July 2010 (PDF) - Antigravity Magazine

Monday $1 Schlitz Nite
Tuesday Tikioki (Tiki Drinks & Kareoki)
Wednesday Heidi + Skwirl
Thursday $2 Tecate Nite
Friday Skwirl + Something Fun Nite
Saturday Dance Parties
Sunday Hangover Tavern w/ DJ Pasta
facebook.com/thesaintbar
twitter.com/saintbar
myspace.com/saintbarnola
961 St. Mary, LGD, New Orleans

STAFF
Publisher/Editor in Chief:
Leo McGovern
leo@antigravitymagazine.com
Associate Editor:
Dan Fox
fox@antigravitymagazine.com
REVIEWS EDITOR
Erin Hall
erinhall@antigravitymagazine.com
Contributing Writers:
Carlton Barzon
carltonbarzon2007@u.northwestern.edu
Michael Bateman
crawstika@gmail.com
Bryan Davis
thebryandavis@gmail.com
Emily Elhaj
alhaajj@gmail.com
Laine Kaplan-Levenson
lainekaplev@gmail.com
Dan Mitchell
danmitchell@antigravitymagazine.com
Sara Pic
sara.pic@gmail.com
Mike Rodgers
mike@antigravitymagazine.com
Brett Schwaner
brett@antigravitymagazine.com
Mallory Whitfield
mallory@antigravitymagazine.com
Derek Zimmer
derek@antigravitymagazine.com
FEATURES:
ANTI-News_page 6
Some of the news that’s fit to print.
Quintron & Miss Pussycat Go
On Tour_page 16
Q&P embark upon another adventure.
Eyehategod_page 18
It’s a classic tour with the metal marauders.
COLUMNS:
The Splash Zone_page 10
A look at the month in theatre.
Guidance Counseling_page 11
Maddie Ruthless answers your questions.
The Goods_page 13
This month in fashion.
Slingshots, Anyone_page 14
Derek returns, reinvigorated.
Photo Review_page 28
The month in photos.
REVIEWS (pg. 21):
Albums by Happy Talk Band, Devo, Hank
III, Lovey Dovies and more...
EVENTS (pg. 24)
July listings for the NOLA area...
COMICS (pg. 30):
How To Be Happy, K Chronicles and a special
guest strip by Will Frank.
Ad Sales:
ads@antigravitymagazine.com
504-881-7508
Cover design by Dan Fox w/ photos
by Josh Sisk.
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ANTIGRAVITY is a publication of
ANTIGRAVITY, INC.
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Homepage:
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4
INTRO
Was your last weekend of June anything like mine It started
promising enough with a quiet dinner at the mid-city Mona’s
with the folks, a feast which ended up fueling a real Friday night
rager. My room-and-bandmate, the newly minted “Uptown” Izzy and I hit
up the Local Skank CD Release party at the Blue Nile, and did those ladies
(and one dude) ever deliver. There’s something so basic and fun about what
they do that even the crustiest old cynics should crack a smile watching this
band. I highly recommend tracking down Lewis D’Aubin’s video footage
from that night; it should be on Vimeo. Try “Bummer Pie,” one of my new
favorite songs. A great set by a great band, but we were not satiated. Not yet.
With more whiskey than hope in our hearts, we raced down to the Saturn
Bar hoping to catch a piece of Evil Army, but lo and behold they hadn’t
even started yet! We caught the entire set and Izzy has the cut on his head
to prove it. Probably happened during one of Rob Evil’s dive-bomb solos.
After that we caught the end of Michael Bateman’s Bounce Night at the
Saint, then (finally) headed home where Izzy shoveled Ben & Jerry’s into
his face as we belted out a real doozy version of “Across the Universe” for
the 4 track. Saturday was a much more relaxed affair spent with my dog Chloe at the Riverbend dog beach, taking in a little Juan’s (Jerk nachos
every time!) and revisiting the Wire. David Simon you evil genius! Sunday was Webb’s Bywater Anniversary party, and after playing a quick set
with the Lovey Dovies (an hour after waking up no less!) I melted into the afternoon with everybody else after gorging on Billy Bones’ crawfish, a
great performance by Imagine “the” Band (my favorite part his “cape,” which he insisted was beaded up like a Mardi Gras Indian’s. “Jacque-mo-fina-nay
motherfuckers!”) and finally, an amazing set by Eyehategod, a band I’ve been a huge fan of since I discovered how rotten I like my music. It
was great to see how fresh they sounded even coming off weeks’ of tour and playing in a sweat-soaked, cramped space. All in all, an epic weekend
of family, friends, music, food and even an above-ground pool to soak in late into Sunday night—under a full moon, of all things. One month in and
I can say this summer’s not getting away from me. It’s not escaping a lot of bands, either, who are taking off for far-away lands, a tradition as old
as the power chord itself. When we found out that Quintron & Miss Pussycat and Eyehategod were going on tour at the same time, we had to ask
them to document their travels and damn, did we ever get what we asked for! Feel free to live vicariously through Isabel Theriot’s accounts of the Q
& P tour or truly appreciate your A/C as Gary Mader and Mike IX Williams rehash their travels with EHG through the Midwest. They’ll be playing
together in October—a real clash of civilizations to be sure! We also have tour reports from Maddie Ruthless, Thou, writer Dan Mitchell’s travels to
Tennessee for Bonnaroo; even Derek, our own straight-edge Jedi ninja, took off for the beaches and revolutionaries of South Central L.A. So whether
you’re staying or going, try to enjoy this precious season; if you can’t get in the van, at least make a day for tubing or a bike ride through the city.
Or don’t. Either way, nothing’s gonna change my world. —Dan Fox, Associate Editor

ANTI-NEWS
PAUL COLLINS’ BEAT & A BRIEF
INTRO TO POWER POP
It’s been months
since I learned
that M. Muscle
somehow stumbled
into promoting a Paul
Collins’ BEAT show.
What have I learned
over this long wait A
lot more people than
I would’ve guessed
have no idea who
Paul Collins or his
Beat are! People who
should know better,
too, that have never
sang along to “(I
Wanna Be with a)
Rock ‘n’ Roll Girl”
--- a Mod Dance Party
MVP by the by. How
is the quintessential
L.A. Power Pop
group, championed
by none other than
Thee Eddie Money
in their early days,
unheard of I don’t
know. Maybe just
as few people know
what Power Pop is.
Excuse me if the following tangent is unnecessary:
Greg Shaw of BOMP! fanzine did his best defining the Power Pop sound in early 1978, when Collins was still
playing with The Nerves [another very important band of the New Wave]. It took him 6 pages to make things
crystal clear. In short, it’s the girl-crazy, skinny-tied, angst-ridden, cleaned-up punk kid of early Who/Beatles/
Byrds and the Ramones. “Power Pop” can be used to describe anything from the Raspberries or the Romantics
to punkier bands like The Undertones (“Teenage Kicks”!!!). But, for me, the first records that come to mind are
Flamin’ Groovies’ Shake Some Action, the Nerves’ 7”... and the first Paul Collins’ Beat LP, which lies proudly upon
the tuff’er, hard rockin’ end of the spectrum [i.e.: the kind of Power Pop band that will get laid after a gig]. I kinda
can’t believe that the man behind that album is playing here. He’s even doing a special mini-tour of a whole lotta
Mississippi, plus Memphis and Mobile! Nuts. Get to studying: I went down to check out the local disco show / I
saw all the people dancing on the floor / I wish there was an easier way / to meet the girls of today / And if I had a
chance / This is what’d I say / I wanna be with a rock ‘n’ roll girl / I pick up the phone and get a dial tone / I call
up the number, but nobody is home / But I saw it on my TV / They said there’s someone for me / I wish she would
answer / and give me her name / I wanna be with a rock ‘n’ roll girl / I see them walking, one by one / I hear them
talking, man they are dumb / I wish there was an easier way (hey HEY) / to meet the girls of today / I really wanna
talk / But what can I say / I wanna be with a rock ‘n’ roll girl Repeat. An important note: the first Paul Collins’
Beat album was issued as simply The Beat. They later prefixed their name with P.C. due to the success of the other
[English] Beat. Ya know, “Mirror in the Bathroom” THIS IS NOT THAT! Go skank somewhere’s else. —Michael
Bateman
Paul Collins’ Beat will be playing at One Eyed Jack’s on July 24th. Opening are King Louie’s Missing
Monuments and closing the show will be Quintron & Miss Pussycat. Find out more at paulcollinsbeat.com.
TRAVEL GUIDE:
A LOOK AT CHICAGO’S
PITCHFORK FESTIVAL
We are now in the thick of things with respect to summer, and as I mentioned
in last month’s issue, on the musical front, summer means it is time for
festivals. With dozens of festivals across the country over the course of these dog
days, you may find it difficult to choose which ones are truly the ones to attend,
based on musical lineups, the atmosphere of the events themselves and the costs
associated. To me, the lineups are really the selling point of the festivals. And when
Pavement announced last fall that they were planning on reuniting and playing
shows throughout 2010, including a multitude of both domestic and international
festivals, I made a promise to myself that I would do everything in my power to
find my way to one of these shows to see them live for the first time. Not only do I
consider Pavement to be the quintessential American band of the 90s, the decade
I grew up in as a child and then as a young teenager, but they are also one of my
favorite bands of all time, regardless of time-period or genre. So, when I learned
that I was to have the opportunity to attend the Pitchfork Music Festival in Chicago
to report for ANTIGRAVITY, I became ecstatic, for the headlining band on the
final night was slated to be none other than Pavement.
There are hundreds of music media outlets in this country, whether they are
blogs, websites, magazines, fanzines or radio broadcasts, and they all serve
different purposes with respect their reach and their goals. While this publication
aims its sights primarily on local New Orleans happenings and events (and does
a damn good job to boot), others focus on the broader national and international
musical sphere without giving specific mind to any city in particular. Pitchfork
Media falls into the latter group, and is not only one of the more influential daily
media sources, but also seems to cause more shit talking and hatred than any other
outlet I can think of. Many people feel the writers are pretentious tastemakers and
concern themselves with only the next up-and-coming group or artists, the hipster
mentality so to speak, without paying mind to the past. People who feel these things
about Pitchfork, in my mind, are fairly closed-minded and obviously do not read
the site or their interviews, with artists new and old. While they lack good coverage
in certain areas of music, metal and punk come to mind, the aim of this outlet
is to be as informative as possible, with respect to music, and highlight what, in
their mind, is relevant to both their readers and to the general musical psyche.
Aside from providing the public with free, daily, year-round musical factoids and
coverage, Pitchfork also knows how to through a festival. This year is no exception.
Marking the fifth-year anniversary of the festival, held each year in July in
Chicago’s Union Park, the festival is one of the better American music festivals
of 2010, boasting a diverse line-up of both new acts and older revered ones.
The headliners, Modest Mouse on Friday, LCD Soundsystem on Saturday and
Pavement on Sunday, add up to be the best grouping of artists the festival has
ever featured, with the daytime sets leading up to the headliners absolutely packed
with acts worth seeing as well. Over the course of the weekend, fans will enjoy
sets from respected, loved and established groups and artists such as Broken
Social Scene, Liars, Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, Panda Bear, Raekwon,
Lightning Bolt, Big Boi and Wolf Parade. And of course there are the newer
groups present as well, like Bear in Heaven, the Smith Westerns, Girls, Titus
Andronicus, Sleigh Bells, Surfer Blood, Neon Indian and Major Lazer, just
to name a few, that are sure tear it up during their allotted set times. This year’s
Pitchfork Music Festival, set in beautiful summertime Chicago, amidst crowds of
approximately 50,000 strong, is sure to be a weekend well worth experiencing, to
say the least. —Dan Mitchell
6

JUST FILLING SPACE: LIGHTNING BOLT
to-the-wall and exerting ever last ounce of effort for the sake of
their performance.
So, get ready New Orleans, because Lightning Bolt will be
playing at their seemingly ideal venue in town, the Zeitgeist, in
ANTI-NEWS
Lightning Bolt, since their inception over fifteen years
ago, has made a journey of pushing the limits within the
constraints of performing in a two-piece rock group. Whether it
be sound decibel barriers or musical structures, this duo, made
up of Brian Chippendale and Brian
Gibson, has never stopped at anything
less than what they deem acceptable,
rarely concerning themselves with
outside opinion or advice. Their live
shows are the stuff of legend and
rightfully so, since their on the floor,
in-your-face approach connects them
directly with the audience in a way
that few bands have ever attempted
before, and in a way concerned with
“making the whole scenario good. And
that’s exciting,” explains Chippendale
on their DVD The Power of Salad,
speaking in reference to the power and
intention of their live performance. The
reason for the excitement is because the
‘making the scenario good’ has very
little to do with turnout or feedback, but
rather the excitement concerns itself
with a sharing, on a common ground,
of a possibly unknown or untapped
understanding of what shared musical
experience can be. It does not matter if
they play in a club, at a house party in
rural Texas or on John Peel’s doorstep
waking Steve Albini up with their
racket; they never shy from going ballsonly
a matter of days. When I mean ideal venue, I refer to the
large space of the place and the openness that it offers to a band
like Lightning Bolt. When Chippendale spoke about “filling up
space,” as quoted above, he was referring to his drumming and
drawing style and I think this idea he offered
years ago to elucidate his method works as
a perfectly telling way to think of the band
in general. Wherever they find themselves,
Lightning Bolt immediately goes to work
with their sound to fill the space with as
much energy and excitement as they can
possibly muster. Couple this with the vigor
and verve of those in attendance, and you
have one of the most densely packed fronts
of animation imaginable. With too much
existing in the world to be disillusioned and
pissed off by these days, at least we have
people like Chippendale and Gibson, guys
who are working for us and with us, with
a goal of “making the scenario good.” We
need more of this ‘good’ in general, but I
think that of all major cities in this country,
New Orleans understands the importance
of shared celebration and merriment in a
communal setting better than any other.
It’s good for the soul, so to speak. This is
the New Orleans show of the summer,
in my opinion, so come one, come all, let
Lightning Bolt lead you into the ether, let
them fill your head and soul-space with
music, and let them blow your eardrums and
minds while they are at it. —Dan Mitchell
7

ANTI-NEWS
THOU / MOLOCH WEST COAST
TOUR 2010: A HIGHLIGHT REEL
For the past seventeen or eighteen days I’ve been traversing the country with my band Thou and our pals
Moloch from the U.K. More harrowing insanity has transpired in that time than can fit in the space that the
ANTIGRAVITY overlords have allowed me. Thus, I give you a meager sampling of our time on the road.
The Terrible. U.S. Border Patrol: they did not seem convinced that there was no marijuana in the van. Tires: we
experienced a blowout in the middle of the desert and our spare was only half-inflated. Luckily, about thirty kids
stuck around to watch us in San Diego though we were hours late. Two shows a day, nearly every day: a brilliant
plan put together by local punk/small-time criminal Bryan Funck. It looked fun on paper. Sleeping in/around the
van: our drummer was nearly vanquished by a skunk in California after a failed attempt to sleep near the ocean—
still better than a filthy crustlord mansion. More wild animal attacks: I learned that rabid dogs in Tijuana don’t give
a fuck. Folk punk bands: still hate ’em... except for O Haste Annihilation and the Let Down. Overnight driving:
Albuquerque to Tempe is a painful stretch. Cruising through the mountains and desert at five A.M. while listening
to Om Conference of the Birds was transcendental. So was getting to sleep at nine A.M.
The Joyful. Hiking in the
Redwood forest: best cure for a
hangover ever. Two vehicles: eleven
people don’t fit in one van. There’s
Kia Crew and Van Kru. Van Kru
is all about driving in complete
silence and daytime drinking. Kia
Crew is all about listening to bad
indie rock and jumping off bridges.
California: it’s seventy degrees and
sunny right now in Berkeley. Two
shows a day: okay, sometimes it’s
fun. All four of our L.A. shows
were amazing, despite the fatigue.
Road friends: a fourteen year-old
kid hitchhiked to Portland to see us
play; Jello Biafra’s drummer came
to our Gilman Street show and we
got to see all of our friends across
the country, including some NOLA/BR ex-pats. Carpinteria, California: beautiful beaches, seals in the ocean and I taught
a bartender how to make a Mint Julep. Salem, Oregon: on top of getting to see our really good friends in Leech, some guy
cut open his arm and wrote “Hell” on the basement wall in his own blood before the show started. Wait, maybe that belongs
in the “terrible” category. Mexican Border Patrol: getting in was a piece of cake. They didn’t even ask for our passports.
Downside: two seventeen year-olds with machine guns standing nearby. Tijuana: everyone was super friendly; we ate
amazing homemade burritos and I remembered that we left the cymbal bag at the venue before crossing the border. Whew.
Meth Leppard: one of the few bands we’ve played with that truly sound exactly like you think they do. Record shopping: I
was really close to buying five Madonna 7” singles at a dollar a pop. They didn’t have “Get Into the Groove.” Deal breaker.
Not having to endure my bandmates’ penchants for Morrissey in the van: speaks for itself. Glory is the road. —Andy Gibbs
CREEPY CRAWL TO CREEPY
FEST 2010
Have you been craving an all-you-can-eat style buffet of this
city’s best punk rock bands Or are you wondering just
what the fuck “punk rock” means these days Well, the second
annual Creepy Fest should satisfy you either way: a five day
celebration of simple, timeless thrashing and bashing with all of
the gore, guts, fights, shit, piss, dreads, moshing, shredding, beer
and generally not-giving-a-fuck any degenerate could dream of.
Let’s get right into this impressive line up, shall we
Day 1 at the Circle Bar features Portland’s Guantanamo
Baywatch, winning the “best band name” contest outright.
Locals the Dives and the Unnaturals kick off the fest. I caught
the Unnaturals a while back and with their tight surf-punk
sound and their very able covers of the Dead Kennedys and
Dick Dale, won me over immediately.
Day 2 takes us to Outer Banks, that crazy little dive bar off
of Tulane Avenue that’s hosted some great shows—and a few
chicken drops—over the past couple of years. (Don’t know what a chicken drop is Google it.) Concrete Shoes play good fightstyle
punk and let you know exactly how they feel with songs like “Ditch that guy.” Donkey Puncher (contender for worst band
name) and Hattiesburg’s Nemesis Destroyer lead off the night’s debauchery.
Day 3 brings us uptown to the Saint for The Bills, Makeshift Lover, Toxic Rott and Dem Nassty Habits, Brian Turd’s band.
Some of you may remember—and plenty definitely do—that Brian was murdered a couple of years ago in the Irish Channel,
leaving behind a legion of friends, fans and this chainsaw of a band.
Day 4 is at the Bayou Park Bar, a new venue on South Jeff Davis and Broad that’s already being called the next Dixie
Taverne. let’s hope Bill Heintz has recovered from the Bills’ previous night’s set for another go-round with the Pallbearers
(pictured) who will be fresh from tour and seem to only be gaining steam through the ages. Face First, Crotch Breaker and the
Vapo-Rats round out the night’s lineup.
Day 5 is billed as the Poots’ CD release party and they share their penchant for adolescent, angst-ridden Recess Records-style
punk with Chalmette’s Dummy Dumpster. Grrl punks the Split()Lips and the globe-trotting Red Dons complete this short
week of mayhem. If you catch all five days you’ll start to see a lot of familiar faces, since many of these bands are different
combinations of the same members—just another part of that beautiful, incestuous smorgasborg of raw talent festering in this
city. —Dan Fox, Photo by Gary LoVerde
Creepy Fest 2010 kicks off on July 14th and runs through the 18th. For information on venues, times and other details, check
out myspace.com/aysia999 and myspace.com/86dproductions. There are also a ton of flyers around town because, amazingly,
some people still actually do this.
8
RECYCLING AS AN
A R T F O R M — W O R N
AGAIN RETURNS
Press Street is probably New Orleans’ most unsung art philanthropy
collective. Since 2005, the group has dedicated itself to supporting local
artists and promoting arts education. The collective is best known for its annual
24-hour Drawathon event (which attracted over 500 participants in 2007), the
Antenna Gallery of Contemporary Art, and for the publication of Revacuation,
a graphic novel by local artist Brad Benishek that puts a post-modern fantasy
slant on post-Katrina New Orleans. On July 24th at the Howling Wolf, Worn
Again, the city’s foremost sustainable fashion exhibition, will be throwing a
party to make sure Press Street keeps its community mission alive and look
drop-dead sexy while it’s at it.
“There’s lots of recycled fashion events in New Orleans,” said Elizabeth
Underwood, the director of this year’s event. “But we don’t want to see clothes
that are made to be worn once. We’re not looking for shoddy craftsmanship.
We want to make people rethink what’s trash and what they’d wear. We try to
get rid of the word ‘trash’ entirely.”
The party, now in its fourth year, is the brainchild of Garyt Shiflett, who
envisioned the event as both a challenge to the city’s vast pool of talented fashion
designers and as a fundraiser for nonprofits doing community-based work. Past
Worn Again parties have benefited the Virginia Breast Cancer Institute and New
Orleans Recycle for the Arts, among others. The momentum and consistency of
the Worn Again is giving it the cultural leverage to confidently bill itself as the
“French Quarter Fest of Recycled Fashion.” It’s a label Underwood embraces
and affirms by asserting the competitive nature of the show.
“Not everyone who submits will make it to the runway,” said Underwood.
The judging process for entries is extremely selective, both in order to
encourage creativity and
to maintain a strict quality
control. Nearly all (about
90 percent) of material
at the show is recyclable
and all the designs are
open for bidding. Despite
the uptight façade,
Underwood maintains
that the focus is primarily
on fun and having a good
time.
“I’m a huge DJ fetishist
and the Recycled Dance
Competition makes
for a huge party,” said
Underwood. “We all get
a buzz from each other
celebrating the community
that’s supporting us. Last
year’s theme was a bordello
and this one’s is a Russian
fairy tale. Everyone in New
Orleans wants to be a star.
We like that, but we try to
keep things humble.”
Veterans of previous
shows will be happy to
hear of a familiar lineup of
favorites while Worn Again
virgins should keep an eye
out for names such as Sarah
Dunn, Cree McCree, Leigh
Reveley, and Laura Keith,
who are all award-winning
past designers competing
again this year. Another designer of past Worn Again glory is Mallory Whitfield,
who will be on this year’s jury. All of them will be tasked with making a miracle out
of clothes that even Thrift City would turn away and that, according to Underwood,
is exactly what makes the show political.
“At its core, it’s political because it’s about sustainable creativity. Let’s
rethink where we buy our clothes. We want it to be a free party where people
get a break and wake up energized for the fight.” —Carlton Barzon; Pictured:
Alicia Zenobi
The Worn Again Fashion Show is scheduled for Saturday, July 24th at the
Howlin’ Wolf. For more info, go to thegreenproject.org.

ANTI-NEWS
GETTING SLUTTY FOR A GOOD CAUSE: NEW ORLEANS
BANDS RALLY AROUND DAVE “DEE SLUT” TURGEON
Anyone who’s seen 47-year-old Dave Turgeon—aka “Dee
Slut”—perform onstage knows he’s not a man who can
be stopped very easily. His antics with a 100-ft mic cable at
the Hi-Ho Lounge in March were some of the most memorable
of the venue’s fourth annual Raise the Dead festival, which
should only be expected of a man who was once invited to try
out for the lead singer position in Black Flag.
“The man is absolutely crazy,” said John Hartsock, the Hi-
Ho’s owner. “We had to put together this cable to let him sing
in the street. He couldn’t keep still. He was running out side
and singing to people in the street. That’s what music used to
be. I just wish I could understand the lyrics.”
Turgeon’s iconic role as the founder and frontman of The
Sluts, one of New Orleans’ first punk bands, has cemented him
firmly in the annals of local pop music history, but his roots
here in Louisiana have never been shakier. The BP oil leak
in the gulf has decimated the Louisiana fishing industry, and
Turgeon’s livelihood as a seafood dealer is drying up along
with it.
“Nothing in the world could convince me so many people
could all be this stupid,” fumed Turgeon. “Everyone from BP,
to the Coast Guard, to the politicians; it’s almost like they want
it to happen. I’ve watched friends of mine lose everything. I’ve
had to lay off my own son.”
Turgeon espouses the same anger and cynicism that fueled
the Sluts’ uniquely buffoonish brand of hardcore punk and
helped define the underground rock scene in New Orleans in
the early 1980s. Inspired by West Coast punk godfathers Black
Flag, Turgeon formed The Sluts in late 1981 after dropping
out of high school. The group quickly moved from playing
backyards to clubs like the Rose Tattoo and The Steamboat
in a matter of months, and became staples of the local sound
alongside other bands, such as The Normals and Shit Dog.
“It was a family deal,”
said Turgeon remembering
the old shows. “The Normals
were big in town and we’d
open for bands like Black
Flag, Minutemen and D.O.A.
a lot. The California scene
was coming to New Orleans.
We did a lot of free shows
and benefits in Fat City, but
you’d have to get a ride for
those because the cops were
efficient. It was constant fun.”
The Sluts went on to
tour both the West and East
Coasts extensively, living out
of their van and booking their
own shows as they went,
but Turgeon’s penchant for
raucous performances made
him just as many enemies as
friends.
“The Circle Jerks, Black Flag
and the Minutemen were awesome friends with us,” remembered
Turgeon. “Jello Biafra of the Dead Kennedys told us we’d never
play with him again after getting in a fight with the crowd. When we
went to D.C., we thought Ian MacKaye would be cool, but we did
not hit it off well at all. But the Bad Brains were all incredible guys
when we played with them Christmas night.”
Turgeon plans to bring the current incarnation of The Sluts to
the Hi-Ho again July 3rd as part of a benefit to put his business
back afloat and hints his frustrations may result in some new
Sluts’ material.
“I could definitely let out a lot of anger on some new
Sluts songs,” said Turgeon. “I can’t wait. The greatest high
is having a mic in your hand.” —Carlton Barzon, Photo by
Gary Loverde
The Benefit for Dave “Dee Slut” Turgeon will be held on
Saturday, July 3rd at the Hi-Ho Lounge with The Sluts, Die
Rotzz, Guitar Lightnin’ Lee, The Unnaturals, Miss Kitty
Lynn, Velveteen Elvis, The Bastard Sons of Marvin Hirsch,
Lonely Nights and DJ Team Hardhat.
9

THEATRE
COLUMN
NOTES FROM
THE SPLASH ZONE
by SARA PIC
SARA.PIC@GMAIL.COM
VISIT WITH SOME ZOMBIES
This month, I’m featuring two new exciting theatre projects
that will add to the already diverse range of theatre we are
lucky to have available to us in New Orleans.
The Elm Theatre was founded earlier this year by Garett
Prejean, co-Artistic Director, along with Prejean’s childhood
friend Joe Buch, co-Artistic Director. Prejean is a native
to Baton Rouge but lived in Chicago the last several years.
While there, he worked at the prestigious Second City and
also ran his own theatre company which featured all original
works. Elm Theatre is “dedicated in bringing stories to New
Orleans emphasizing on the social and cultural barriers that
affect our surroundings.” The Elm Theatre has its own studio
space on Julia Street, which Prejean chose in order to help
invigorate that part of the city, already rich with visual arts,
with theatre as well. The theatre has been offering classes in
acting since its opening but is now launching onto the theatre
scene with its first full production, Blackbird by Adam Rapp
(writer and director of many plays as well as the film Winter
Passing, which featured Ed Harris, Will Ferrell and Zooey
Deschanel). Blackbird, directed by Laura Hope, who is also
Professor of Theatre at Loyola University, is set in the late
‘90s in New York in a squatter’s tenement, where two people
reside, an Iraq War vet from the first Gulf war (played by
Prejean) and an ex-stripper heroin addict (played by Becca
Chapman, who was in Bang The Law, part of the New
Orleans’ Fringe Fest, and Goat in the Road Productions’
recent student playwright showcase, PLAY/WRITE). As
Hope describes it, the play is a love story “about two people
who no one else loves and no one else would. All they have is
each other—not even electricity or plumbing, they are living
hand to mouth. The play explores how lonely people are and
how much we all need love, but sometimes it’s not enough.”
Prejean adds that part of why Elm Theatre chose this as their
first production was because it was about people who are
otherwise forgotten or looked down upon in society. The
theatre’s mission is to break down social and cultural barriers,
because, as Prejean describes, “once we do we set ourselves
free.” Growing up in a poor neighborhood in Baton Rouge,
Prejean considered people like the characters in Blackbird
his friends. As Hope elaborates, “We pass people like this
on the street every day, and it is worth giving them back their
humanity.” As a new theatre company, Prejean acknowledges
this is a weighty subject, but considers it to be a vital topic.
And though he plans to continue to focus on producing
dramas with serious subjects, he does have a sense of humor as the theatre also produces a show called I SAW
YOUs, which are readings from craigslist personal ads.
Not a new theatre company but a new collaboration, Southern Repertory Theatre has boldly expanded its
line-up by becoming the resident theatre company at Le Chat Noir.
Mark Routhier, Associate Artistic Director, is in charge of the new programming which will be shown at
Le Chat. As Routhier describes this new venture, it is part of “an effort in the entire theatre community towards
collaboration and sharing of resources.” Routhier is already putting plans in motion for several exciting new
programs at Le Chat, including a Wednesday night soap series about crazy old money New Orleans families
called Debauchery by Pat Bourgeois; a monologue and slam poetry series on Thursdays; and possibly a latenight
comedy series in collaboration with several local theatre companies. Routhier is especially excited about
a “ten minute play project,” where six playwrights (with two alternates) are delivered a theme, possibly New
Orleans-centered, and who then have one week to write a play on that theme, which will then be directed and
cast by Routhier. Local playwrights Lisa Shattuck, Michael Santo’s, Gabrielle Reisman, James Bartelle,
Pat Bourgeois, Brian Sands, and alternates Madison Curry and Jim Fitzmorris are on the bill. Routhier
says that in general Southern Rep at Le Chat will be looking for edgier plays that maybe wouldn’t be as
suitable for Southern Rep’s main stage. They are coming out strong with their first full production at Le Chat,
Zombie Town, a play about an earnest San Francisco theatre collective, the Catharsis Collective, who travel
to Harwood, Texas, to interview the surviving residents about a recent zombie attack. The collective has then
come to New Orleans to share with us the healing power of theatre through the interviews with the survivors
(tongue firmly in cheek, of course). As Routhier describes it, Zombie Town is a “mix of Waiting for Guffman
and the Laramie Project.” Lest you worry that because this play takes place after a zombie attack that there
might be no actual zombies in the show, Routhier assures that there will be surprise guest zombies in the show.
And for those of you keeping track, this is my third time writing about zombies in this column which is not
even a year old yet. And that’s how you know that theatre really is good in New Orleans!
Blackbird opens Friday, July 9th and runs through August 14th on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays at
8pm at the Elm Theatre, 220 Julia. Ticket prices are $15. Student and industry discounts are available. Also,
if you bring in a flyer, which will be papered around town, you get a $5 discount. For more info check out
elmtheatre.org.
Zombie Town runs July 1st through July 18th on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 8pm and Sundays at
6pm at Le Chat Noir, 715 St. Charles. Tickets are $20, though there may be special discounts available via the
theatres’ websites, southernrep.com and cabaretlechatnoir.com.
10
Send me press releases, vague info on shows, or theatre/performance art news or gossip! Holla at sara.pic@
gmail.com.

ADVICE
COLUMN
GUIDANCE COUNSELING
THIS MONTH'S TRUSTED ADVISOR: MADDIE RUTHLESS
THE ROOMIE SWAP DOESN’T EXIST
JIM RUSSELL'S RECORDS
1837 MAGAZINE ST. NEW ORLEANS, LA 70130 (504) 522-2602
NEW ORLEANS #1 RECORD STORE
LARGEST SELECTION OF
USED VINYL LP's, 45's, CD's, CASSETTES, VHS & DVD's
VIDEO GAMES, LASER DISCS, 8-TRACKS
CLASSIC rock, jazz, R&B, hip-hop, COUNTRY
OPEN MONDAY thru SATURDAY 11am-5pm
“Brutal honesty is sexy”
Maddie Ruthless is the kind of girl that can make you feel stupid and lazy,
because at 21 she’s already on top of her game more than you’ll ever be.
With steady gigs around town spinning Ska, Rocksteady, Reggae, Afro Beat,
Pyschedelic, Tropicalia and New Orleans R&B in addition to fronting Maddie Ruthless
& the Secret Affair, her rocksteady backing band (who just happen to be Fatter Than
Albert), Maddie is taking over New Orleans one irie jam at a time. Also, she’s on tour with
DJ Karo right now, tearing up the West Coast. One dispatch from the road: “a semi truck
hit us and destroyed the car—and tried with us—but our tour soldiers on. DJ Karo and I
have been on a roller coaster of extreme ups and downs but it’s all been very productive and
not boring.” That’s tour for you: cheating death and soldiering on. With such a workload
(and newfound appreciation for life), she’s the perfect person for some lightning-round
summer advice. When she gets back from tour you can look forward to regular DJ gigs at
the Saint and Domino Sound, and the Secret Affair will be dropping their new album, Hold
the Phone, at the end of this month. Cue it up, Maddie.
WE SHIP WORLDWIDE
Find us on MySpace and Facebook
www.jimrussellrecords.com
I got this buddy, great friend, but when we’re out together he always horns in on what’s
going on and makes a huge ass of himself—at my expense. He’s got a woman too so I’m
not sure why he wants to fuck up my situation. So what do you do about a friend who’s an
insanely huge cock block
Outshine, out sass and out the undermining intentions of your buddy. Love is war and it’s
death or glory! Maybe invest in a nice suit and a pocket knife. Just lay it all out on the table.
Brutal honesty is sexy.
If you’re seeing someone but really want to get with their friend, is there any way to make
a successful “swap”
Honestly, it sounds like some hippie to me but if you and your friends are “groovy” maybe
it will work out. Or make a dramatic declaration to all parties over a bottle of wine and a
prayer. Love triangles always work in your favor if you’re the Rocksteady Queen of New
Orleans.
Will you help me move
Hell no! Moving is the worst. That’s why I stay at Nowe Miasto, where I can acquire as
many things as I please until we fill it up.
11

BY MISS MALAPROP
FASHION
THE GOODS
COLUMN
HELLO@MISSMALAPROP.COM
WARMING TO THE CREOLE COTTAGE
The Creole Cottage is a new home décor shop dedicated to high quality, low cost, recycled
furnishings and home goods. Started by a mother and daughter team, Joyce and Summer,
just this past spring, The Creole Cottage has already gained legions of loyal fans who
line up early to get their hands on the one-of-a-kind goods (the shop often sells out of the week’s
inventory in a matter of days), and they’ve already had to expand their shop to a larger location.
The boutique recently moved from its original location at 1029 9th Street to a more expansive
space at 1817 Magazine Street. I recently caught up with the younger half of this mother-daughter
creative duo, Summer, who manages marketing and sales for the shop, to find out more about their
new endeavor.
Miss Malaprop: How did
The Creole Cottage get
started
Summer: The Creole Cottage
was an expansion of a store
called Greenhouse in Atlanta.
The owner, Joyce, has been
upcycling home goods for
over fifteen years. She started
off in Atlanta doing street
vending and when the city
changed its rules regarding
street vending, she opened
a store called Antiquing
Atlanta, with two other
partners. The store eventually
grew into a one-woman
business, and changed names
to The Painted Horse and
then finally Greenhouse. In
late 2009, Joyce decided she
wanted to relocate the idea of upcycling furniture to New Orleans, which is her original hometown.
The Creole Cottage was born in February of 2010 and doors opened May 2010.
You’re already moving to a new, larger location—congrats! Can you tell me a little bit about
what the response to your shop has been like here in New Orleans
The response has been overwhelmingly positive. People have commented they love the concept
of getting recycled furniture that is in great condition and more sturdy than say your average piece
from Wal-Mart or Target. Additionally they love the price points: it’s not your typical Magazine
Street prices, which can be unattainable by your average working class family or college student.
So we try to make the items look nice and remain affordable.
What goes into your “upcycled” home furnishings—where do you find the original materials
and what do you do to refurbish them
We find goods in Atlanta and surrounding areas. The owner searches for items that have “good bones”—
solid wood pieces, interesting curves and details on chairs, and practical items. Many of these items are
donated or thrown out because the original owner didn’t see a purpose beyond its current look. Joyce
takes the items and with a creative paint technique, some sanding or new fabric choices, transforms
them into items that feel like new furniture, but really are older items with a fresh purpose.
Who is your ideal customer
When the business was started, the idea was to provide items for the working class. Not everyone
can afford $4,000 tables and $7,500 armoires, so our idea was to target those who are working on
a lower budget, but still want a beautiful home. We have attracted young professionals, retired
individuals, college students, realtors who are staging properties, and we even have dealers from
higher end stores shop from us because our prices are low enough for them to make a profit off of
in their stores.
Is there anything else you think people should know about The Creole Cottage
The incredibly positive response from NOLA has left our store empty on a number of occasions
and with the owner being a one-woman-show regarding refinishing items, it has made us really
have to sit back and rethink how we can keep the supply up to par with the demand. We weren’t
fully prepared for such a great response, but for any new small business, it is a great problem to
have. What we’ve found is that those who know about us now are very studious in keeping up with
our website and new items. As fast as we set items down, they can get sold, so we recommend
bookmarking our website (thecreolecottage.net) and checking back as much as possible to make
sure you don’t miss out on anything.
Stop by the new location of The Creole Cottage at 1817 Magazine Street, Wednesday through
Saturday, 11 am til 5pm, to check out their ever-changing range of recycled furniture and home
décor, and be sure to tell them Miss Malaprop sent you!
13

COLUMN
SLINGSHOTS, ANYONE
BY DEREK ZIMMER
Last month proved an awfully busy one for a certain funemployed miscreant. To mourn
the passing of my teenage identity and celebrate the beginning of my life as a quasiadult
who didn’t happen to perish at the hands of a taxicab the month previous, I
decided to use my plane voucher to take a little vacation. So I set off—for a place
where the ocean flows in pristine, sludge-free glory. Where the mountains stretch in undulating
masses. Where beautiful women and vegan straightedge kids alike instinctively flock like the
salmon of Capistrano. That’s right. I’m talking about a little place called California. Only a few
days into my adventure I met up with my friends in New Orleans’ most cacophonous pop band,
Caddywhompus, outside Amoeba records one sunny afternoon. After an eventful few hours
spent at the amazing Museum of Psychiatry learning about the dark past and present of one of the
medical industry’s most notorious pseudo-sciences, we hopped aboard “The Lobotomobile”—as
we soon christened the Caddywhompus tour vessel—and drove out to Leimert Park that evening
in anticipation for their first LA show.
Upon our arrival, we figured out that the venue wouldn’t be opening for at least another hour. So
with time to kill I decided to undertake my pre-show tour standby and one of my most cherished
pastimes: a leisurely stroll to explore what the neighborhood had to offer. You know, nothing
clears my head and gets the creative juices flowing like a good walk. And by “good walk” I mean
lighting up some grilled-ass nuggz. And by “clearing my head” you know I’m talking about
getting blazed as fuuuuck on some of that hellifried reefer-tree! But at a glance, I must admit I
felt a bit hesitant to go
gallivanting through
South Central LA alone
after dark; I mean, I
don’t know about you,
but that movie Boyz
N the Hood left quite
an impression. Hence
I resolved to venture
only so far as around
the corner to Crenshaw
Boulevard.
And as usual, the
cosmos offered forth her
unpredictable treasures
like grand hydroponic
sweetness. No more
than a block into my
ambling I stumbled into
a cluster of vendors
JUDGEPEREZREVENGE@YAHOO.COM
BURN HOLLYWOOD BURN
not unlike those set up on any given night on the sidewalks of Canal Street. Hearing the phrase
“COINTELPRO,” I looked about in wonder. Clearly I was in the company of some revolutionary
bad-asses! I noticed a table of paintings with the likenesses of famous black musicians, one of
which I recognized as the very same adorning my brother’s apartment where I was housesitting.
I commenced modestly thumbing through the book of street art nearby. “Look through it. It
ain’t gonna bite you,” said the imposing man in camo fatigues manning the table—who later
introduced himself as the Ghetto Van Gogh. “You lookin’ at it like you scared.” After my long
campaign of tabling books for the Iron Rail Book Collective and harassing people to browse
my selections in sweltering houses and smoke-filled bars alike—at last, it appeared, “the tables
had turned!” The irony!
“You know it’s Malcolm X’s birthday today” said the Ghetto Van Gogh, more like a
statement than a question. I didn’t. “You know who else’s birthday it is today”
I shook my head.
“Ho Chi Minh’s,” he answered, raising his voice as though addressing a crowd. “You know
about Ho Chi Minh He had little kids up in trees dropping bombs on American soldiers. Tell
me revolutionaries don’t come in cycles!”
Remember the feeling of attending your first punk rock show—where it seemed as though,
like Polly and Diggory arriving in Charn, you had discovered a whole new world, where every
interaction and the very air itself felt alive with volatility, pregnant with meaning Such were
the sensations tingling through my nerves as I stepped into a humble bakery on Crenshaw.
Granted, I was the only white kid there, but I felt no inkling of hostility or even skepticism as to
my presence there in that room. It reminded me of a past evening in San Diego where my friend
Joven and I attended a Spanish-spoken discussion on race and class dynamics in City Heights: I
had been an outsider, a minority for a moment within a nation where my skin and class typically
offered me so much privilege, yet the whole experience proved one of the most broadening in
all my short years.
There in that bakery, youths spit rhymes, a dreadlocked man in sunglasses beat a Congo drum
to a piece for his 13-year old daughter entitled “Struggle” and a woman recited a poem about a
teenage girl attacked and murdered in a parking lot on a rendezvous with her boyfriend. I thought
about how far the tragic realities of poverty were from own middle-class upbringing, yet how
greatly they shaped the world around me—and thus myself. After a few more speakers, a lady
named Rah stepped up to the mic, and the emotion was palpable in her voice.
14
LOCAL CULTURE
“I had a speech prepared,” she said. “But you know sometimes the spirit just moves you...”
Her proceeding words resonated intensely with some of my own recent musings: “You know,
it’s easy to come to the bakery week after week and say ‘We revolutionaries.’ But it’s like
church: we leave feeling really good, but we not changing anything. Because if we was, we
wouldn’t be here, in the state we’re in. It’s only gonna change when we take it outta the bakery
and into the street.” I thought about every hardcore show I’ve attended, about the nature of the
do-it-ourselves punk community I identify with—how inspiring it is yet how ritualized it can
be at the same time. About how privilege can so easily make us complacent and blind to the
atrocities that happen every day.
“How many years has it been since Malcolm, since Martin, gave their lives for us” Rah
continued. “And things still haven’t changed.” Drawing her speech to a close, she emphasized a
quote—”Revolution is a process, not an event.”
“So without further ado,” she ended a few minutes later, “I want to introduce our next speaker…”
And out of seemingly nowhere stepped Professor Griff, the “Minister of Information,” from
the legendary hip-hop group Public Enemy.
If I could transcribe every word of that half-hour and offer it here, it would surely prove more
profound than any column I might ever write. He spoke about his book Analytixz, a collection of
interviews he has conducted with various individuals over a span of twenty-six years. He talked
about his departure from Public Enemy resulting from an interview with David Mills, a man he
referred to as a “traitor.”
“I constantly question whether or not my
efforts are supporting a scene that exists
simply to perpetuate the status quo,
entertain white people, enforce sexism
and all the rest of the bullshit that makes
me want to puke like a frat boy after a
night on Bourbon Street.”
Interestingly enough,
this deceased journalist,
I later found out, was a
writer for the TV show
Treme, which everyone
seems to be creaming
their jeans over these
days. He also alluded
to the Iluminati
conspiracy of the musik
industry and the ways
the media (“Maniac
European Devils In
Action”) dominates our
psyches.
“If you wake up in
the morning, and you
have to plug yourself
in, turn on, tune in—
you under mind control,” he told the audience. “Some people say they’re not under mind
control—and they’re probably the ones under the mind control!”
He continued, “The first Public Enemy shows, we went out on stage with Uzis and ski masks.
We had to get y’all’s attention. We even hung a klansman at one point! Public Enemy formed
to raise the consciousness of black people and get out of the business quick.” He went on: “But
the industry crept its way in, and our message was diverted by the advent of gangsta rap—with
groups like NWA.”
I stepped out of that bakery after that talk in a daze. Clutching a Public Enemy comic book I
picked up for a friend—signed by none other than the “Minister” himself!—I walked back to the
club where my pals in Caddywhompus were about to play a show, and I felt this renewed sense
of purpose. Inside the space, where the bands were setting up, I noticed a poster tacked to the
wall. It pictured the assassinated revolutionary Malcolm X holding a gun with the caption, If you
are not ready to die for it, remove the word ‘freedom’ from your vocabulary. Indeed.
I constantly question whether or not my efforts are supporting a scene that, rather than
elevating consciousness and arming us with fuel to create a firestorm to purify, exists simply to
perpetuate the status quo, entertain white people, enforce sexism and all the rest of the bullshit
that makes me want to puke like a frat boy after a night on Bourbon Street. Often I need look
no further than most of the shows I attend—or the pages of this magazine, quite frankly—to see
there’s a lot of mindless complacency and not a lot of meaningful dialogue going on. But rather
than deliver a scathing treatise on the need for radical critique in our community—a feat which
I won’t undertake partially because I feel it would be largely unproductive but mostly because I
lack the energy after a long day on four hours’ sleep combined with the start of a summer tour
in less than six.
Only you can decide what steps are right for you to take to live better and be a better person.
However, with so many Clear Channel billboards, the thirteen minutes of commercials to every
thirty minutes of TV airtime, and the barrage of corporate-controlled stimuli flooding our mental
environments as surely as the crude rushing into our Gulf every second, I think it’s high time we
define who the “the powers that be” actually are and—following the wisdom of Public Enemy—
begin fighting against them.
“We want the airwaves back. We don’t just airtime. We want all the time all of the time.”
–Refused

MUSIC
SWAMP ROADIE BADASS:
LIFE ON TOUR WITH QUINTRON AND MISS PUSSYCAT
BY ISABEL THERIOT
“The reason I go on tour is for the hour on stage per night... I could
give a shit about anything else.” —Quintron
Hellooooo! My name is Isabel and I’m currently selling merchandise,
puppeteering and acting as a roadie for the Summer 2010 Quintron
and Miss Pussycat tour. I joined Q and P last summer for their West
Coast tour and had a ball and I am thrilled to be on the road with them
again. The original plan was that I would join the tour in NYC on June
11th, but because of some unexpected, super exciting developments
I was asked to do the whole tour. I had to get my shit together a lot
quicker than I thought I would have to! The only small annoyance
was a brutal sinus infection/head cold that I had been battling and that
I’d hoped to get rid of before diving into the controlled chaos that is
tour. But all that aside, I was anxious to get out on the rode again with
Q and P.
Baton Rouge: I had the first driving shift. On the way to Baton
Rouge, Q and P let me know that “Swamp Buggy Badass” had been
selected to be in a scene in the finale of Treme, so we were all in a
very celebratory mood during the drive! We arrived in BR about two
hours before any bands would play to load out and back-line all of
the equipment, which, if you have ever seen a Q and P performance,
you’ll know is a lot of equipment, including all of Quintron’s gear
(Drum Buddy, two Leslies, two organs, car grill, headlights, bass
amp, P.A., fog machine and large light for back lighting during the
performance) and Miss P’s puppet things (skeleton of puppet theatre,
skin of theatre, puppets, lights and all other accessories). It takes us
about an hour to set everything up most nights. Q usually finds a silent
place to hang out and mentally prepare himself for the show and P
puts on her make-up and then reads, naps or keeps me company.
The opening band was a psychedelic/surf/folk rock band out of San
Francisco called Grass Widow; kind of a weird pairing, but the girls
were very nice. The Q and P show started out a bit bumpy when the
CD player that plays all of the puppet show audio broke... I think it
kind of psyched us all out, and we were all already nervous since the
puppet show is brand new and we’d only practiced it twice before.
The puppet show is a collaborative effort with Q, P and myself all
acting as puppeteers. It takes a a few shows to really figure out the
groove of it, so the first shows are hectic enough without technical
hiccups. I was especially excited and nervous about this particular
puppet show because not only would I be acting as a puppeteer, but
I also did the voice for Candy the elephant! Although Q and P had to
jump into the musical portion of the performance a bit earlier than
expected, the show was good. Q and P are working on songs from the
new album on this tour so this first show really let them practice the
new stuff and work out the song order. After the show we crashed at
our friend Willie’s amazing pad in BR. I got to sleep with Cochise,
Willie’s awesome cat!
Austin: We woke up at around 8am to do the drive from Baton Rouge
to Austin. We were all exhausted from being out late the night before
and I had the added bonus of having that horrible sinus infection. Fun!
It was also going to be insane because I would have to drive Q and
P to the airport at 4am the day after the Austin show so they could
fly to a gig in Connecticut. I would then begin driving the van by
myself from Austin to Memphis. With all of this in mind, I think we
all felt a little overwhelmed. Tired or not, we arrived in Austin right
on time. The bar, the Mohawk, is enormous with one small stage
inside and a huge patio and large stage outside. The opening bands
for the night were a Mexican punk band called Ratas Del Vaticano,
who coincidentally opened for Q and P last summer in San Francisco;
Psychedelic Horseshit, who Q and P toured with two tours ago and
the Box Elders, one of P’s favorite bands. They were all great and the
singer for Ratas Del Vaticano told me that I was the most beautiful girl
that he had ever seen and gave me a free t-shirt. Score! We finally got
our chance to properly debut the puppet show and it went relatively
smoothly for our first run-through. Q and P’s set went well; the
audience seemed to enjoy the new songs.
Austin to Memphis: We didn’t arrive at the hotel until around
3:30am, so Q and P decided to pack for the plane while I slept for
about 15 minutes. I dropped them at the airport at around 4:30 am
and headed back to the hotel for a bit more sleep before the ten hour
drive from Austin to Memphis. I was a little nervous about the drive,
being that it was the longest that I’ve done alone in my life, but it
proved to be one of the most relaxing, meditative experiences of my
life. I know that sounds corny, but I seriously loved the drive. I took
all back roads, so I passed through so many cute, quaint towns and I
had the opportunity to think about a lot of things that I often push to
the back of my brain. I also discovered the magic that is Five Hour
Energy (it had me singing every song on the radio out loud) and that
squeezing your butt cheeks together while driving not only keeps
you awake but is good exercise, like a pilates class while driving.
Wheeeee!
Photo by Josh Sisk
16

MUSIC
Memphis: After meeting up with Q and P at the most amazing La
Quinta Inn (which we dubbed the La Shawnka), we headed out for
the most satisfying Olive Garden meal ever. We were all deliriously
tired, so two bottles of wine, a clairvoyant waitress and two hours of
noshing seemed like heaven. After our delightful OG sojourn, we all
fell asleep for about 15 hours... it was glorious. The following day
was chock-full of activity. We started the day with a visit to Goner
Records where we stocked up on the new Quintron single “Tire Shop”
and chatted with Eric Friedl, co-proprietor of Goner. After a quick
breakfast-brunch-lunch, we headed over for load-in at the Hi-Tone.
The load-in was very smooth, since Q and P know the Hi-Tone so
well from playing there gazillions of times. It was after loading in that
I started to feel very bad. My sinus infection was killing me, so I was
popping antihistamines and ibuprofen like crazy. It wasn’t helping.
By the time the show started, I felt like my head was melting. Because
of this melting sensation and because I fell asleep at the merch booth
(oh yes, I did!) I don’t have many memories of the show. I hear that
it was good, though.
Chattanooga: The promoter for the show cooked us a dinner of toospicy
vegetarian chilly, french bread and a yummy green salad with
mozzarella balls and had it all set up for us after load-in; it was great,
great, great. After eating, I decided to take a walk around the city to
stretch my legs and check out what Chattanooga had to offer. The
city is so cute! There is lots of interesting street art, like a frilly dress
made of thin sheets of metal. Also, the city has a free electric bus
transportation system. Very impressive! My favorite part of the city
was the Chattanooga Choo Choo; it used to be the city’s train station,
but it’s since been converted into a hotel. It has a very Shining feel to
it, complete with a grand entrance hall, turn-of-the-century decoration
and a bar with a mirrored back and eerie music. I met up with P on
my way back to the venue and we decided to get a drink at the bar of
the Choo Choo. She agreed with me about the hotel’s creepy chicness.
We had some wine and a hitchhiker tried to pick us up! Anywho, the
opening bands at Discoteca were great. I especially enjoyed Thomas
Function and the band that dressed like gnomes. There was seriously
a gnome-dressed band; they gave out gnome hats. The puppet show
really began to flow nicely by this time. We were really beginning
to actually puppeteer rather than just trying to keep up with the
soundtrack. The audience was really jazzed about the puppet show
too, which was also very heartening. The show itself was big fun.
Seeing Q and P in a smaller venue is always nice. There tends to be so
much energy in the room and people are more inclined to dance when
crammed together with a bunch of other people dancing. There was
one near-catastrophe when a thrown microphone nearly knocked Miss
P’s front tooth out during “Swamp Buggy Badass.” P ended up with
a pretty badly busted lip, but at least all of her teeth were still intact.
After the show, we headed over to good ol’ La Shawnka for Sierra
Nevada in our beds, American Beauty and sleep.
Jessie’s, but our hosts were so gracious and the party was da bomb.
All very hung-over, we headed back to the Earl for a tedious and tiring
load-out. While loading out the day after a show may seem like a
blessing when you are drunk and tired and ready to party, it tends to
be more like hell when you’re hungover and tired the following day.
Plus, if you have a show that night, you end up loading three times in
one day... ugh. After a quick breakfast with Suzy at the Earl, we set
off for Savannah.
Savannah: We arrived in Savannah at around 5 and checked into a
hotel. We were all hungry, and Q and P wanted to have a nice dinner
complete with wine. Q asked the concierge at the hotel for suggestions
and was told that Fiddler’s was the hot spot, so off to Fiddler’s we
headed. We were all impressed with the Grand-Isleish-boat-theme of
the outside of the restaurant. There was a moat, water gushing off
of the tin roof into the moat and a bridge over the moat. It was very
promising. Unfortunately, all of these decorative aspects of the eatery
could not make-up for the Applebee’s-quality food. The water in
Savannah also had a very eggy smell. Q and I dubbed it Fartesian
Springs, water that is unique and diSTINKtive! After dinner, we
headed over to the Jinx for load-in. I was very nervous when we
walked into the bar. Very bad, very loud modern country wafted out
More Quintron and Miss Pussycat tour diary on page
25...
“It’s not like you guys are Metallica or something.
We didn’t think that we’d need extra security for
your show.” —Bartender
Isabel, Q&P and company at dinner with Fred Schneider
Atlanta: We were all excited for the Atlanta show, as we know a
lot of folks there, and Miss P had a special dinner planned for us
with Heather Henson, Jim Henson’s youngest, and Alan Lewis with
the Atlanta Center for Puppetry Arts. We arrived at the Earl at
about six and began quickly loading into the venue. I know that P
especially wanted everything to be set up and checked well before the
show, since they would be performing in front of Henson, Lewis and
other members of the Center. Dinner was perfect. Green Sprout is
a vegetarian Asian restaurant: all meals contain very realistic-tasting
meat substitutes. It was also very interesting to find out about all the
things that Alan has been doing at the Center and about the different
puppetry initiatives and festivals that the Henson Family Foundation
is involved with. I’m a big Jim Henson fan, so chatting with the person
that runs the organization that furthers his goals was very special. On
our way back to the Earl for the show, Q shared some interesting
German words with me. Did you know that the German word for
“puppet trunk” is “puppe keister” or that “exit” is “ausfahrt” in
German I didn’t, but I’m very happy that I know now. The show
at the Earl was pure magic! My friend Suzy Moran from Atlanta’s
monthly ‘60s dance party Fringe Factory came to the show and so
did all of the members of the Black Lips and Subsonics. Also at
the show were Henson, Lewis and our friend Adrian Barrera, whose
bands the Barreracudas and Gentleman Jesse and His Men opened
the show. Not only was it tons of fun to party with all of these peeps,
but it was great that they were there for a hiccup-free puppet show
and high-intensity, fun show. Afterwards, a few of us headed over
to a bar down the street for a little more debauchery and interesting
pick-up lines. After a long night of partying, we headed over to Jessie
of Gentlemen Jessie’s house for more partying and possibly a little
sleep. We were so pleasantly surprised at how beautiful Jessie and
his girlfriend’s house was! A real grown-up’s house: decorated well
with fancy, vintage furnishings, clean and with a guest bedroom and
numerous other sleeping options! There was very little sleep had at
Isabel with the Maryland Dance Team
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DEATH TRIP THROUGH THE HEARTLAND:
AN EYEHATEGOD TOUR JOURNAL
BY GARY MADER WITH MIKE IX WILLIAMS
Eyehategod is Mike IX Williams, vocals; Jimmy Bower, guitar; Brian Patton, guitar; Gary Mader, Bass;
Joey LaCaze, drums
New Orleans: We leave N’awlins at two in the morning for our first show of this new tour that starts in
Orlando. What follows is hours of darkness and listening to the controversial broadcast Coast to Coast,
former announcer and real life X-files pundit Art Bell’s conspiracy-driven radio talk discussion of high
frequency destruction, shadow people, cold fusion, solar flare-ups, chupacabras and digressive black holes;
all a prophecy of the high road to inevitable decimation of humanity and all life forms as we know them.
Hence the EHG tour 2010 slogan: “First the Oil Spill, Now This...”
Orlando: We pull up to the first show, all good vibes so far. We’re doing this tour with a couple of black
metal bands (We think. What’s black metal nowadays) Nachtmysium and Withered and they have a
big stage production compared to us, the headlining band. So we watch them load in their stage show and
groan. When the gig finally starts we run into a bunch of old friends from over ten years back that stayed
with us at one time or another. Henry Wilson (Floor, Dove, Cavity), whom we haven’t seen since the
Dixie Taverne days, makes it out to the show as well as Rick from Torche, Rob from Dark Castle and
other friends we’ve made along the way. The last time we were supposed to play Florida, we cancelled
due to an approaching hurricane, leaving many disappointed fans who drove from as far as Tampa to see
us. But they are all here tonight. The first note of shrill feedback sets the crowd on fire, leaving behind our
trail of riff hearing impairment and dysfunctionality in the name of rock n’ roll. One down and we’re off to
a good start. We also find out tonight that Ninth Ward mainstay Mr. Quintron and Miss Pussycat are on
tour in the U.S. as well, only a day or two ahead or behind us. Hope we can meet up with them.
Spartanburg (SC): The last time we were at this club we played to about seventy-five people and got
obliterated on Jagermeister and um, some other shit and Mike and our driver at that time—EZ Money—
threw a bunch of chairs and bottles up on the roof of the joint. To the obvious dismay of Mick, the club
owner, we made our beds on pool tables and a concrete floor while Mick and his friend were “up” all night
making sure we didn’t break into his snack machine or help ourselves to drinks that we didn’t need at that
point. This comes up in conversation immediately. “Man, the last time you guys was here, one of y’all
had puked all over the floor.” He continues in his inimitable Southern drawl, “Yeah, we went to cleanin’
it all up, and it looked like one of y’alls had ate some goddamn silly putty or something.” That was Mike.
The best memory of this show was the barbecue catering for the meet-and-greet and seeing the amazing
anomaly Joe Buck play. He used to be the stand-up bassist for Hank III and now has a one-man band,
although he distances himself from that tag. He had driven up from Kentucky because he heard EHG was
playing and wanted to get on the bill. “Man, I got a kick drum and a guitar; that ain’t a damn band.” Joe,
a beautifully nutty human being, who may suffer from as much mental disfigurement as any and all of us,
lights up a crowd that just sat through two hours of black metal with his erratic, southern country twang
and feedback, burning holes in the souls of an unworthy audience with a distant and furious gaze as he
spews his discontent with civilization, re-enforced by a cannon-like kick drum and frantic riffery. “We’re
livin’ in the Dark Ages man! They’re learnin’ nothin’ in the schools!” Awesome. Pre-show discussion
that day between Mike, Joey and myself of paranormal experiences, old haunted prisons and sanitariums.
EVP: electronic voice phenomena. The electronic translation of voices of those stuck in the middle of life
and death. In the case of haunted sanitariums, what does a paranormal expert say to an apparition There
are recordings of women screaming, murdered prisoners still longing for freedom and those still locked in
psychological trauma, even after death. Joey: “They’d be like, “Are you a patient” And you’d hear a voice
say “yyeess” which he mimics in a voice not unlike Carol Ann from Poltergeist, that will have us losing
our minds laughing and being stupid the whole tour. Yes, we are easily amused and are thankful for this,
given the hours of boredom and delirium that lie ahead. Small jokes make for wasted time, I guess. Joey
puts it best: One and a half hours of fun, twenty two and a half hours of wanting to die. Okay, it’s not that
dramatic but boredom does take its toll.
Raleigh (NC): Today we meet up with Haarp, one of New Orleans’ finest, and Christ is it good to
see them. They will break up the monotony that the two hours of black metal has been for the last few
nights. Not that the BM groups ain’t good, but two hours of anything sucks. I think everyone more than
shares that opinion. Mike got rolled up on after calling Withered out on the ridiculous smoke machine
and light show that we had to wait for them to set up every night. What happened to just getting up and
jamming Funny thing, after Mike said something, the next night it seemed like their show was lessened
a bit. On a positive note, we are lucky to not only jam with Haarp, but also some good ol’ fashioned
Raleigh hardcore courtesy of Stripmines. There is a healthy, early-’80s style Hardcore scene on the
East Coast, primarily North Carolina and Virginia with bands like Plagues, Cross Laws, Government
Warning, Wasted Time etc. Haarp completely devastated everyone. Two songs, the first a 16 minute
new song played flawlessly while Sean meandered through the crowd violently, getting inches from the
kids’ faces... We are in full destruction mode at this point with more than a few hangovers under our
belt. Mid-set, Jimmy’s guitar strap breaks so he pulls up a stool and we finish another great show. The
whole time we are playing, security are flashing lights at us but we don’t realize why. We later find out
it’s because we are smoking cigarettes. You see, the smoking ban is everywhere. At 41 years of age
Jimmy is scolded for smoking by the promoter, who seems to be having a rough night and takes it out
on us. We leave, unwelcome as usual. That’s something we have grown accustomed to (and learned to
find amusing at least) over the years. Fuck them if they can’t take a joke. Plus, this night is meeting a
couple of dudes from North Carolina’s Double Negative, a great band that we want to tour with sooner
than later.
Our worthless nine hour ride to Louisville starts immediately after the show, featuring DJ Lacaze, aka
Lil Daddy LLL (Live Life Loaded), jamming New Orleans’ own UNLV 6th and Baronne and then a
Roky Erickson rock block... I Think of Demons... are you a patient... yyeeess. Then “Daddy sang bass,
Momma sang tenor, sun comin’ up and I can’t decide....” We’re rolling through the Appalachians. Mike,
in a moment of drunken absurdity: “You know somewhere down there [in the valley] some dude’s jerkin’
off to a picture of Jesus.” Jimmy: “Some dude’s jerkin’ off and don’t know his chick’s watching.” Enter
Total Delirium and Insanity Programme One.
Eyehategod in Nashville
The band in Cleveland
Louisville (KY): On the way to Louisville, we find out that Brian, our driver, has not only had a CDL since
he was 17, but also spent four and a half years in the Marines, six months of which he spent driving a truck
loaded with high explosives in and out of Baghdad during the initial invasion of Iraq, while being fired on
by RPGs and other shit that could have made a disaster of the cargo. We thank him profusely for putting his
life on the line, something he says folks seldom do. We pull up to the club, Headliners, for a meet and greet
that we have before some of our shows and the promoter has arranged for catering by Big Dave’s BBQ for
the guests and the bands. We sign posters, CDs and adult diapers for about a half hour (as strange as this may
seem to our fans and friends at home and to us, people want to meet us... yes, we know this is weird) and we
do an extended sound check for our guests. Doors open shortly after and a line from the club door to the street
make their way in. Haarp kills it again, followed by Nachtmystium, who play the best show any of us have
seen them play thus far. The beginning of our set is punctuated by some dude smashing a beer bottle to pieces
over a wedge monitor, glass spraying out in every direction. Where there’s broken glass, there’s fun, right
So far, this has been the best show all around, many thanks to a promoter that gives a fuck about the bands he
books; thank you Terry Porter. Travel note: if you ever find yourself in Louisville, hit up Big Dave’s BBQ,
the ribs were on fire!!
St. Louis (MO): It’s a Monday night in St. Louis. What was supposed to be a four-hour drive feels like ages
and decades gone by. We pull up to the club and find out there are seven freaking bands before us and we have
no free alcohol. We are told there is a convenience store a few blocks away, but that we should not walk there
because we will “get jacked.” We did anyway. Travel note: to see the only “ghetto” in the whole United States
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times. Mike yelled at the booking agent and threatened to “slap his glasses off his face.” Tough
guy. It was akin to Van Halen on the Mean Streets tour times negative a thousand. Used to be we
were thankful for the few hundred fans that showed up, but the size of this club diluted any hint
of a vibe. We played good at least. Waffle House is calling our name. At least we set off some
giant smoke grenades and M100s outside. That was fun. We got a new driver tonight, some kid.
Dude was born the year our band formed and thinks Hatebreed is a hardcore band. We are now
officially elderly... but top notch cool.
Frederick (MD): Jimmy’s quote for the day: “Eyehategod: born assholes. Born an asshole, will
die an asshole.” Negative pain sets in. The club we play tonight is in bumfuck Maryland in a strip
mall between an adult care center and a Christian church. We are hoping for a picket line, but it
never happens. This is grind legends and good pals of ours Brutal Truth’s first of four shows
with us. Kevin Sharp and gang are the coolest jerks ever and we’re glad to share the stage with
’em. Sherman and the Earthride boys are playing this one as well. Tonight we have EHG story
time onstage with the Una-Drummer Joey Lacaze—something about being in a bunker with Eva
Braun and Hitler, and testing a syringe full of poison on Hitler instead of the dog or something or
other, prefacing each sentence with “So, anyway, I’m hanging out in this bunker....”. Funny shit.
Jim bears his teeth
The guys check out the mint-condition ’74 Thunderbird
with a university, people jogging and a micro-brew cafe, come to St. Louis. We ran into Gary Nicholls, formerly of the
infamous Alcoholic Sluts (who hosted some of the most lawless and greatest shows in NOLA in the early ’90s at RC
Bridge Lounge and elsewhere) and we hang with Haarp. Gary anecdotes us with a tale of a gig gone real bad in NOLA
with the Supersuckers where somebody was an asshole and the band got their merch swiped. ‘Nuff said. Fun times,
good people. That incident is going to be documented in Pat Roig’s book Staple Guns and Thumb Tacks as a story by
Glenn Wilson, so we’ll leave it at that. Shameless plug for Pat’s book. Pat owes us now. Just remember that it ended
with Glenn beating the shit out of them on one Carnival night. This was sadly Haarp’s last show with us and we were
more than a little bummed. The crowds they played in front of have a newfound appreciation for not only New Orleans,
but more specifically “Da Parish.” After the show we head out to the only Denny’s I’ve ever seen that isn’t 24 hours,
then we part ways. Drive safe brethren, the sea is angry.
Nashville: The club we are playing tonight is new, been open for about three months I think, and is called the Muse.
The stage is so small we can barely fit our equipment on it. Some hours later, it’s packed with a new generation of EHG
fans, and it’s going to be a killer show. But things go downhill when we take stage as there is zero air conditioning
or ventilation of any kind. As in a typical summer A/C unit at least. By the third song, Mike is puking the water and
alcohol he’s trying to hold down, wringing out his shirt in puddles in between songs. At one point, we completely ruin
the beginning of our song “Depress” due to poor stage sound, but mostly because we are so hot that it’s hard to think.
Hotter than the Dixie Taverne in August fer sure. So after we finish, everyone is a little edgy as this was our weakest set
of the tour so far, no fault of ours. It happens. Mike and Jimmy get into a bit of a silly row on stage, screaming over what
none of us will completely remember the next day. To add insult to injury, this is the only show so far that was broadcast
and streamed online. Sixteen hundred folks logged on to see our worst show so far; thirty-eight of them watched us fight
on stage—killer!! We are the critical ones however, only judging ourselves so desperately.
Richmond (VA): One of my favorite things about touring is hanging out with old friends that you haven’t seen in
years and years and in Richmond, that’s really all we had to look forward to. Ash from Buzzoven plus Skillet, Laura,
Dave Witte from Municipal Waste, etc… were out en masse. Good folks. But anyway, what’s worse than playing a
club-size show in a 1500-capacity concert hall Doing it in Richmond when the gig got moved around more than three
Philadelphia: On the way out of Maryland we hit the Broadway Diner, a Food Channel-acclaimed
joint with excellent food and an amazing strawberry milkshake. I wake up in Philly two to three
hours later at the First Unitarian Church, a killer all-ages DIY space. the last time we were here,
it was a fantastic show and the show tonight has sold 380 pre-sale tickets in two days! I guess
everyone was waiting to see if we were actually going to show up. This gig was off the hook;
fights and chaos ensued. Packed house. This is the part of the tour where every show will be good
from here on out. After the show, some friends bring us to the Philly cheesesteak hot spot, Geno’s
Steaks. It’s 2:30am and they probably crank out a hundred sandwiches every twenty minutes, and
for good reason. In all honesty, it doesn’t come close to a down home roast beef po-boy, but this
officially completes our visit to Philly.
Brooklyn: En route today to one of our favorite cities to play: Brooklyn, New York. Tomasa
is coming out to this show and Mike’s wife, Kitten IX, is here already for the Philly show and
this one. We are excited to spend a day with our better halves; we’ve only been out for eight or
nine days, but it’s always cool to spend time together somewhere else besides New Orleans, for
something as cool as this show and NYC in general, is going to be. The show starts at 6 and ends
at 10:30; immediately after we play, the club turns into a Polish nightclub. Weird. Following the
show, Mike is supposed to guest DJ at the Charleston. I don’t know what they expect, but I hope
they like the Germs, Middle Class, Juvenile and the Testors.
There is nothing more exciting for us than playing New York. Alway good times with good
friends, and the shows never suck. At the start of the show, there are like thirty people here. The
promoter is running around frantically, hoping to break even on the show. Two hours later, the
club is filled to capacity as Brutal Truth lays it down. The response tonight is overwhelming; our
Northern fans here have so much love and respect for this Southern band of delinquents. Even
Guitar World is here to cover the show, in addition to ten to twelve other publications. We only
have a little over an hour to play to make room for the dance party following. We are rudely kicked
out after we play, but the after-glow of having such a good show keeps the good vibe going.
Off to the Charleston, a metal/punk kind of bar where Mike IX is slated to DJ and where, for
some reason, he gets cut off after fifteen or so minutes for playing “questionable” music, which
was either Venom or Skrewdriver and the hipster Brooklynite kid up before him apparently
doesn’t wanna relinquish his space. Mike says “fuck it” and who cares anyway, there is free
alcohol for the band and entourage and we take full advantage of this until sunrise. I had my first
“Mexican Car Crash,” which is a bottle of Corona inverted into a Margarita. We had planned on
leaving for a hotel in New Jersey afterwards but our driver is exhausted from dealing with NYC
traffic, a hectic load out and a run in with the NYPD; we are a walking talking wreck. We luck
out and stay at a friend’s house five minutes from the club. Thank you, Kirk and Natalia. It will
be hard to top our time here.
Providence (RI): We all have post-New York blues. We leave behind a great time, Tomasa, Kitten
IX and our NYC family. Today is Providence on a Sunday. Another fucking ten-band bill, and
we are all useless and pointless after last night/this morning. We just found out that our New
Hampshire show has been cancelled because of a promoter with cold feet, but if that’s the worst
thing we have to worry about on this tour, we are in good shape.
Despite being completely fucked over from watching the sun come up, we deliver with unbridled
aggression. Good times with Seth from Anal Cunt (who had to cancel their tour because he broke
his leg again), Andy from Glazed Baby and a few other New Orleans transplants. Brutal Truth
slayed tonight and it sucks ‘cos it’s their last show with us. Farewell, Bros.
Milford (CT): As of this morning, we’ve already picked up a replacement show for New
Hampshire in Boston; this is good news. Days off equal no show, no money and usually in a town
where the main attraction is a truck stop or the country’s largest junkyard. We are hurting for a
day of rest, but dammit, it ain’t gonna happen on our watch. There’s rock music to be played.
One of our tires is looking cracked and bad so we pull into some seedy neighborhood on the
outskirts of Providence to get it replaced. In the midst of an overgrown lot across from the shop
is the owner’s ’74 Thunderbird, in mint condition: interior, exterior and engine. If you’ve ever
seen the movie The Departed you know that this area from Providence to South Boston is wellconnected.
The owner already gives off a “goodfella” kind of vibe, gold rope chains and all. Joey
asks him if he is the original owner. ”Nah, nah ya see, this guy in Florida... he, ummm, ‘died’
and I had the car shipped up to me.” It only has 35,000 miles on it; I don’t think we are too far
off in thinking this shop is a mob front. He lets Joey take a picture in the driver seat. “I look like
Donnie Brasco in this bitch.” The old man just smiles.
The show tonight is right around Yale university. Coffeeshops, restaurants and the Daniel
Street Cafe, where we play. Tons of NOLA band shirts and excitement that we actually showed
up. Mark, the promoter, completely hooks us up with beer, vodka, Dunkin’ Donuts and the
healthiest meal we’ve had all tour. The crowd is thick for a Monday night, so we are looking
forward to a good show. I don’t know if people came for a spectacle or if they even care about
or like us. Every single night, even with smaller crowds, people go apeshit when we start. Not
tonight. There’s applause, then silence and people looking at us really weird. Despite feeling
19

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“The owner of the hall walks up and tells us to not play another song. The
neighbors had enough of this show and the police are here to close it down. It’s
an honor to know we still have the capability to annoy someone.”
that they were ready for us to be done, the crowd demands
an encore, so maybe they did like us and we just have an
inferiority complex (well that last part is a given). One guy
yells over and over for us to do “Shoplift.” At his request
we play it, while the same guy text messages throughout the
whole song. Was it just something “cool” to yell Did a family
member pass away and he needed to send this text right there
People are sometimes dumb as fuck.
Boston: Pulled into Boston at 3:30; load-in wasn’t until 6. Hours
of nothing to do, as usual. The show tonight is at the Cambridge
Elk’s Lodge, very much like playing at the Jefferson Lion’s
Home or the old VFW hall. The promoter had two days to hype
the show and managed to round up almost 200 people, a lot
of whom traveled from Maine, Rhode Island and surrounding
cities around Boston. There is no stage and the crowd is literally
inches from us. There’s no P.A. so we use two 8x10 cabs and
Jimmy and Brian max out on volume. Mike is screaming
through a distortion-blown stack. Sounds great. About five songs
in, during “Sister Fucker,” the hall lights flicker on and off. We
thought someone was putting on a makeshift light show until the
owner of the hall walks up and tells us to not play another song.
Of the five bands playing, we get shut down. The neighbors had
enough of this show and the police are here to close it down. It’s
an honor to know we still have the capability to annoy someone,
although it did kinda suck that our fans had driven this far to
see us play a few songs. Funny thing is, the authorities didn’t
even know the chaos that was brewing inside the hall, what with
people diving all over us, Joey’s drums getting knocked over
maybe two or three times at least, huge pile-ons and possibly a
fight or two. Perfect.
Rochester (NY): Smooth sailing into Rochester. The posters
for tonight’s show have Mother Theresa on one and Ghandi on
the other; we’re going to hell, I believe. Tonight is a miracle
show; there are only two opening bands as the blackened
ones skip a few shows due to a scheduling conflict. We hang
out with Mike Randolph and some of his drama, a NOLA
transplant who did the first legendary extreme music shows at
the now Katrina-destroyed Dixie Taverne. Actually, he is the reason that
any shows ever took place there in the beginning. Our old pal Dan Lilker
(ex-Anthrax/S.O.D. now Brutal Truth) shows up and we bullshit the
drunken night away. After a sweaty, energetic set and load out (which
is never energizing) we are ready for our first regular night of sleep in
days. Only four shows left... Bummer vibe.
Cleveland: The promoter knows King Louie, Matt Muscle and the
Pallbearers and plays in a band called the Inmates. He also owns the
coolest DIY punk club in town called Now That’s Class, an excellent
setting for tonight’s rowdy show. Openers are the Atlas Moth,
Keelhaul and Strong Intention. Keelhaul played in the basement
of the club, unleashing an assault of heavy yet intricate riffing that I
couldn’t begin to play. Anytime we play in Cleveland, we play with
them; they are like extended family. Tonight’s crowd is a turbulent
ocean of flying bodies and the usual blood and broken glass. A huge
skinhead that nobody wants to fuck with (and I guarantee has never
heard of us before) keeps getting on stage, gets pushed off, gets back up
and is taking up way too much space on a stage with only barely enough
room for five. He decides he’s going to lie down in Mike’s zone. Bad
move. At first none of us know what to do with this dude, then Mike
starts spitting all over him while he’s lying on stage, which then escalates
to the guy catching the iron base of the mic stand in the back. He finally
got off the stage. All in all, a great night, all captured on five camera
angles by our friends at Digital Live. The night ends with (surprise,
surprise!) the fucking bonehead getting in a fight with some guy, then a
bouncer, and then the owner of the club. Wild. Also in attendance,
“Rosco,” a very cool, African-American cop (yes, a cop) that loves our
anti-authority music because he says he ”feels it.” Rosco would show
up for both nights in Chicago as well. We figure we bring in the best
mix of a crowd. Beside the outsiders, weirdos and usual losers that can
relate to us, there’s the crusty contingent, the Pantera fans, braindead
rednecks, the hardcore kids and then the die-hard headbangers. It’s good
to be able to pull folks from different scenes into our little death trip.
Detroit: Riding into Motor City with MC5 blowing the speakers in
our jail-on-wheels, we arrive at the club way too early. Nothing but
a Greyhound station across the street and the bridge to Canada. We
are a little sketched out about this club because of some of the things
we have heard through the grapevine about the owner pulling a gun
20
Above: Mike in Cleveland
on Fang and Verbal Abuse a few weeks back and sending them off
without pay. It’s definitely a strange vibe but we always hope for the
best and we feel like we’re stuck in the ’80s with all the Megadeth
and Lizzie Borden flyers from days gone by. Soundcheck takes about
what feels like two hours as they freak on the feedback and try to tell
us to turn down. Tons of fried chicken, potatoes and dinner rolls for
grub but the only thing weird is that right outside of our green room,
it smells like a meth lab. There are tons of security personnel, and
while they are all cool with us, a strange vibe persists. We’re talking
ten to fifteen security guards—big boys—for a show that draws about
250 people. The show starts off kinda slow, but we are having a good
time hanging out with old friends: Matt, aka EZ Money, who was our
driver from the 2005 End Times tour, Steve from Emetic Records
and other assorted friends from back in the day. After the show, the
entire crew of security thought we were the greatest, had never heard
us before and we’ve made new fans. This is good considering Mike
called out the sound guy for putting some kinda reverb effect on his
vocals. Something like “Hey assholes, would you take that fucking
effect off” Come to think of it, he called out the lighting dude too.
“Hey assholes...” Despite what we had heard, the entire show goes
smooth. No guns, hostility... and we got paid. We find out later that
the soundman and most of security belong to a well-known biker gang
whose name we will leave out; 180 of them had been recently indicted
for human and drug trafficking. Good thing they liked us.
We opt to skip staying at Matt’s house eight blocks from the venue in
a gutted-out neighborhood and take up a nicer offer to stay at a 75-acre
estate in the middle of the woods, thanks to Gordy, of an old Detroit band
called A-Frame, who used to play gigs with EHG in the mid-’90s. After
two weeks of frequenting every shithole hotel on the East Coast, this
change of scenery breathes life into us. We have an entire guesthouse
to ourselves, right outside of a lake and an expanse of trees that goes
on forever. A serene closing to fifteen days of destroying ourselves, the
audiences and everyone’s hearing. Final destination: The Windy City.
Chicago: One thing that I have forgotten to include in this journal:
our first driver bailed on us in Richmond. For what, we don’t know.
He claimed he had a court date but based on the thousands of text
messages he made for his short run with us, his girlfriend probably
wanted him home. We call bullshit. He refused to sleep when he
needed it: why Because he was texting. This became very
annoying when you take into account that Jimmy had to take
his slack a lot of times and he probably almost killed us all
because he texted the entire time he drove. Once in Richmond,
we were supposed to get a fifteen-passenger van and a new
driver. The van we never got, and it was looking like we were
gonna have to take a gas-guzzling RV. The only thing that
kept us from punching the kid in the back of the head was that
he offered to leave his van with us.
We already changed one tire somewhere near South or
North Carolina and while changing the second tire we spoke
of earlier in Providence, it comes to light that one of the rear
shocks is broken off from the suspension. Fast forward to
today; because the shock is just hanging there (it had been all
tour) the alignment is now off and the van wobbles so much
that my teeth rattle. Then it comes: BLOW OUT. We had
only one hour ‘til Chicago, and the fact that the alignment
was fucked wore the left rear tire until it exploded out on the
highway. Long story short, we made it to the club, but the day
wore us all down. We all want to leave this van in Chicago
and burn it on the side of the highway. Oh yeah, by the way:
we’ve had no spare or insurance the entire tour. Strong
Intention pick us up on the side of the road and we pack nine
dumb musicians into one “short bus.”
We are playing two dates in Chicago; tonight we play In the
Name of Suffering; tomorrow Take as Needed for Pain. We’ve
not played some of these songs since our Austin show where
we did the same thing (except all on one night) and haven’t
rehearsed them all tour. Aside from the fact that some of these
songs are like feeding the crowd a huge Xanax, I thought
the crowd ate it up. Everybody is burnt out from a long day
of sitting on the side of the highway and all injuries, mental
and physical, that we’ve collected over the course of this tour
melt away up on the stage. Our fans still loved it; bless them
for not hearing and/or ignoring all of the fuck-ups and missed
cues tonight. We crash at Ron Holzner and his wife Carol’s
house. Ron is ex of fantastically brilliant Chi-Town doom
ensemble Trouble and now plays bass with Earthen Grave.
Mike, being an ordained minister, actually married these two in
unholy matrimony in Tilburg, Holland earlier this year. Their house is
always a good time and a chance to decompress. Their entire—and I
mean entire—house is a taxidermy museum; a sort of animal rescue for
animals that have passed away, been preserved and either ended up in
a dumpster, antique store or auction. I love this house. The first time I
stayed here, I had blacked out after the show and woke up on a couch
surrounded by squirrels, bats, bobcats and a two-headed kitten.
Wake up in the morning/afternoon by the smell of Ron hooking
us up with his traditional get-back-on-your-feet breakfast. Everyone
is in a better mood today and are ready to make the best of this
last show. Mike and Joey do a noise set with Mark Solotroff from
Bloodyminded at 3pm at Reckless Records and their fifteen-minute
power electronics assault, under the name Ten Suicides, has a store
clerk stuffing napkins in his ears and wincing. After that we head to
a burger joint called Kuma’s Corner, where this week’s special is the
Eyehategod burger: a ten-ounce burger topped with bacon-wrapped
dates, pecan crumbles and Dusseldorf mustard. Luke, one of the grill
cooks, hooks up our entire meal. I had the Mastodon burger. Joey said
the EHG burger was pretty damn good.
Tonight we are on fucking fire. If there is any record we lean to
more in our usual set, it’s Take as Needed for Pain and that is apparent
as we play it flawlessly. Some guy comes up on stage to bring us all
shots of whiskey. Mike trusts no drink given on stage due to getting
dosed with something wrong at our 20th anniversary show. The guy
does Mike’s shot with us and walks offstage. Twenty minutes later, the
same guy gets on stage, rips the mic from the stand, throws it on the
ground, gestures “fuck you” and starts walking off stage, only to catch
a good shove from said vocalist that sends the guy flying face first off
of the stage and into the ground. He falls so hard that it looks like a
cartoon, followed by crowd applause. We could not have ended this
tour on more of a solid note. Afterward, we bid farewell to our new
friends in Nachtmystium and Atlas Moth. It’s kind of sad in the end
after making this run and becoming friends through the good shows,
bad shows and bouts of inebriation and hungover days, but home is
calling and we can’t wait to get there. All tours usually end on that
melancholy note, it’s certain to say. On the ride home, we begin to
feel the heat as we approach the South, and it has never been more
welcomed. We pulled this shit off once again.
Find out more about Eyehategod go to eyehategod.com.

REVIEWS
DEVO
SOMETHING FOR EVERYBODY
(WARNER BROS.)
Finally, after more than a decade, the truth
can be told. Every man, woman and child will
know the truth about de-evolution! DEVO have
returned and from every angle their new album
is a triumph. It’s always a shame when legendary acts reform for new
glories only to tarnish their legacy with weak records, but like most rock
conventions, DEVO sidesteps this pitfall. Something For Everybody
is pure DEVO, mixing precise pop melodies with weirdo electro and
a deeply cynical sense of humor. The band sounds like they haven’t
lost a step from the early classics. From the quirky man-machine throb
of “What We Do” to the bleepy pop of “Mind Games,” the record
straddles the fine balance between new wave synthesizers and guitars
like the best DEVO music always has. “Human Rocket” propels itself
on an engine of synth percussion while “Please Baby Please” jazzes
up a swing rhythm with Mark Mothersbaugh’s classic snarky delivery,
squelching keyboards and an old school rock solo. At a time when
culture is increasingly commoditized and pop music in particular seems
to be the product of an ever devolving populace, DEVO’s brand of
simple hooks and obtuse, if prescient, subject matter has never been
more appropriate. Despite a few tracks hanging around the middle that
feel less than enthralling, the record is A+ from top to bottom; whether
it’s the dreamy balladry of “No Place Like Home” or the shiny, analog
march and ray gun klaxons of “Don’t Shoot (I’m a Man),” Something
For Everybody ranks among the best DEVO albums. –Mike Rodgers
EMERALDS
DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M HERE
(EDITIONS MAGO)
From the summer of 2009 through the dreary
winter months of 2010, Cleveland, Ohio’s
Emeralds’ synthetic opus Does It Look Like I’m
Here began to take form and was recorded.
Slowly gathering pace and volume, the opening track “Goes By” is
reminiscent of pixilated static as it begins to take shape into the absolute
cybernetic organism this album is. Elements of both Brian Eno and
Robert Fripp are pronounced, however, this Emeralds album attacks the
senses (particularly on the title track) rather than layering coats of ambient
ganache over your eardrums. Perhaps a departure from their earlier
Hanson Records output, the trio of John Elliott, Steve Hauschildt and
Mark McGuire has honed their craft. The album includes tracks from a
limited 7” release on Wagon Records in addition to tracks exclusive to this
Editions Mago release. Complex organic and digital compositions form a
union not unlike Eluvium’s intricate musical layering, electronic pioneer
Deiter Moebius’ (known for his work with Cluster) work, or fellow
Ohioan and Burning Star Core member C Spencer Yeh’s experimental
musings. In the future, this album will be seen as a crossroads for the
band, marking the period when they graduated from a single synth set
up to a more complicated musical arrangement, forming an original and
intriguing new soundscape. –Emily Elhaj
hank iii
REBEL WITHIN
(SIDEWALK)
There’s nothing quite like good ol’ country
music, and nowadays no one does it better
than Hank Williams III. Rebel Within sheds
much of the gutter thrash that had been creeping around III’s music
and returns him back to Grand Ole Opry territory. It’s interesting
that an artist that so closely hews to the traditional country template
could both be ostracized by the country music world and embraced by
metal heads and punks. Maybe it’s the integrity and honesty that’s so
readily evident in III’s music The haunting “#5” lays out his troubles
with addiction in such a straightforward way that at first it seems like
another love-lost ballad until the bitter mentions of deaths, downers
and needles bare his soul. Assjack didn’t completely bleed the crust
out of Hank though; the title track lets a screaming III take backup
vocal duties before dropping into a swirling, nasty guitar solo.
His voice sounds stronger here than it has since Lovesick, Broke &
Driftin’- his nasal high notes highlight the sorrow of “Gone But Not
Forgotten” and add a douse of hillbilly speed to the tale of Popcorn
Sutton on “Moonshiner’s Life.” The music is topnotch throughout
Rebel Within, hitting those bluegrass tempos and delving deep into the
cowboy singsong dirge of “Karmageddon”. What Hank Williams III
understands is that country music has a place in people’s hearts, and
not that polished, weak ass pop music that Nashville keeps dumping
out, but real country. Music that evokes the hardships of everyday life
with soul. Music about drinkin’ and living life hard.Nobody makes
better country right now than Hank III. –Mike Rodgers
HAPPY TALK BAND
STARVE A FEVER
(PIETY STREET)
Late night Mimi’s bartender Luke Allen’s
succinct, clever and often beautiful lyrics
have helped make Happy Talk Band one of
the city’s very few successful, popular, damn
good original bands that is not fun-obsessed. For that alone they
deserve thanks.
Happy Talk’s last two hearty and consistent albums featured
guitars, bass, drums and warm analog keys playing in an altcountry
style, loyally following around the main guitar on which
Allen probably wrote the songs, alone, in his bedroom. On the new
Starve A Fever, the band – plus auxiliary member/producer Mark
Bingham – stretch out, embellishing Allen’s straightforward ideas
with thoughtful atmosphere. Happy Talk seems to have become a
band with varied but interlocking ideas.
While not as psychedelic as Wilco, Starve a Fever provides a lot
more to pay attention to, musically. On the intros to “Not Accidental”
and “Dr Ike’s Lament” (a song about the ironic insomnia suffered
by the anesthesiologist who puts on the Ponderosa Stomp) the band
plays so lightly it’s almost ambient. “Muggers Waltz” defends its
subject via lullaby with lines like, “Muggers have bedtimes too,”
against a gorgeously recorded odd backdrop of bells and Helen
Gillet on cello. The compositionally eclectic “Fine” sounds so
unique among the Happy Talk catalog that you’d almost suspect
the band wrote it for Allen when he wasn’t around. Surprises have
never been Happy Talk Band’s biggest strength (once you catch
Allen’s drift, you’ve caught it), but Starve A Fever is definitely more
instrumentally interesting.
The expected is also here, such as Allen’s penchant for naming
names: Here it’s “Allison,” “Addy, dear,” “Ramona” (who in
this tale of Bywater recidivism is “riding her bike to the bar” as
the Happy Talk boys sing a drunken gang vocal), and Gordo, the
monkey the U.S. blasted into space. Like a good episode of Treme,
Allen drops New Orleans signifiers like Bunny Bread and “woadie”
on “Answer Me.” Even the stylized country moments (“All Played
Out”) are enjoyable, if mostly for the perfect recording of perfect
guitars played by Bailey Smith (Morning 40’s) and Alex McMurray
(every other band), who provide authentic country tones and solos.
–Michael Patrick Welch
KATZENJAMMER
LE POP
(NETTWERK)
Having first spotted these lovely lasses at
Bonnaroo in 2009, I have been waiting
rather impatiently for their first full U.S.
release. Le Pop serves as a great introduction
to American audiences and an admirable encapsulation of the
group’s vast talent. Comprised of four young women from Norway,
Katzenjammer is the epitome of a musician’s band. Each of the girls
is adept at multiple instruments and they each spend the album (and
live shows) jumping from the accordion to the banjo to the piano
to the larger-than-life balalaika bass (the face of which is painted
like a mischievous cat named Borge Dannson - you can friend him
on facebook…seriously). Their style can range from sugary pop to
Balkan folk and the vocals (also a duty the girls split) echo iconic
female sirens from Dolly Parton and Loretta Lynn to Janis Joplin
and Ann Wilson.
After a brief, somewhat creepy, accordion overture, the album
rips wide open with the propulsive “A Bar in Amsterdam,” which is
packed with blistering, mariachi-tinged horns alongside dexterous
banjo and honeyed, but surly vocals. “Demon Kitty Rag” is
dizzying fun – a charming piano jive chock full of tongue-in-cheek
sweetness that never becomes cloying. “Tea With Cinnamon”
is a slow, country-pop waltz with lush harmonies and heartland
vocals. “Hey Ho On the Devil’s Back,” the darkest of the tracks,
has a very traditional European folk sound – high drama, high
intensity and an epic tale of supernatural struggle. The title track
is careening pop chaos that would be at home swirling out of a
French ice cream truck, while “Virginia Clemm” is full of romantic,
Parisian accordion. “To The Sea” is pulled straight from the pages
of traditional sea shanties while album closer “Ain’t No Thing”
practically drips Mississippi Delta blues. “Play My Darling, Play”
channels Celtic guitar while “Der Kapitan” (an instrumental track)
bursts with militaristic horn work. The vast array of influences and
styles these girls have mastered is nothing short of stunning. Their
jovial aura gives each track a signature life and light, allowing the
album to breeze effortlessly from open to close, leaving the listener
intrigued and likely in a better mood. If you’re a fan of multicultural
pop/folk and adorable girls in sundresses, do yourself a favor and
pick up Le Pop as soon as possible. If it doesn’t make you smile, I’ll
eat my hat. –Erin Hall
LOVEY DOVIES
LOVEY DOVIES
(TUFF FUZZ)
A friend of mine said to me recently, “If you
are going to follow in a tradition, Dinosaur
Jr. is a pretty good one to follow.” He was
referring to the Lovey Dovies, the band
that I was currently playing through our stereo at work, a band he
actually thought to be Dinosaur Jr. – perhaps a recording he had
not heard before somehow. I thought it was funny to hear that from
him, because upon first visiting the Lovey Dovies self-titled album
a few weeks before this occasion, I had the very same thoughts.
It is not that the Lovey Dovies sound like a rip-off Dino act and
I certainly don’t mean to slight their sound this way, but their
MUSIC REVIEWS SPONSORED BY THE OFFICIAL RECORD STORE OF ANTIGRAVITY
21

REVIEWS
music brings me to a place very similar to the one I find myself
in when listening to Dino or other likeminded rock acts. There
exists an immediate warmth in their sound amidst the fuzzed-out
maundering of the guitar, the bass-lines that ensure head nodding
(and alternatively banging), and the drums that abuse the cymbals
to wonderful effect and work with the bass to truly drive the music
home.
At a terse 29 minutes over the course of nine songs, the
tracks fly by with ease, while managing to grab your attention
straight off as well. Opener “Sheepskin and Stone” hits
immediately with the undertones of the bass, only to open up
to a head back, eyes-to-the-sky chorus of huge proportions.
Put simply, these guys rock in a way that makes me envision
myself in a car, windows down with buddies, doing 100mph
on the highway, cigarette in hand, on my way to anywhere
that may have me. While “Stained Sleeve” is my favorite cut
at this point (that changes with almost every listen), there is
not a single throwaway track on the album. The Lovey Dovies
impress time and again on this debut album and lucky for us,
they are in local touring mode right now. Go check them out,
because they rule. –Dan Mitchell
Nachtmystium, a metal group formed in
Chicago by primary member/ guitarist/
vocalist Blake Judd, has gone through some
serious changes in sound and direction over
the course of their twelve-year career. Starting out with extremely
lo-fi recordings akin to early ‘90s black metal (think Darkthrone
circa ’92-’93) and moving forward with each release to incorporate
new influences and shed their corpse paint of old, the Nachtmystium
we have today sounds very little like the band of yesteryear. To black
metal purists, this kind of trajectory may seem ill-advised, but for
those who appreciate diversity and forward thinking in their extreme
metal, Nachtmystium should certainly be at the top of your list of
favorite bands. The change from traditional black (i.e. Scandinavian)
metal really started for these guys back in 2006 with the album
Instinct: Decay. Amidst the primordial sludge, new elements began
creeping into their sound that saw the band expanding. However, it
was 2008’s Assassins: Black Meddle Part I that really stood out as
being something entirely different. Praised universally, this album
took extreme metal to a completely new level – a psychedelic one.
So where does a band go after garnering such positive applause
for its newfound psychedelic sound For Nachtmystium, they
go to the chilly, abandoned, industrial buildings of the ‘80s and
make an album at once dreary and hopeless, while, dare I say,
also somewhat catchy. Hardly gone is the edge to the sound; Judd
still coarsely howls over the tracks, spewing lyrics to be described
as desperate and downtrodden at best. And there are moments of
absolute brutality; tracks like “High on Hate” and the pummeling
breakdown on “Blood Trance Fusion” exhibit it perfectly. It is
hard, though, to deny inherent catchiness of the hook during the
tambourine-percussed “Nightfall,” the bounce of “No Funeral” or
the soaring chorus of “Addicts.” I go back and forth with Addicts, at
times thoroughly enjoying the ‘pop’ (relatively speaking) sensibility
running through it and at times feeling a bit disappointed. While it is
certainly no Assassins, it is still better than most metal bands could
ever hope to put together. –Dan Mitchell
STARS
FIVE GHOSTS
(VAGRANT)
Stars may be a Canadian band, but their rise to
fame came after they embraced Europe and its
love of synthesizers. After the release of the
much-acclaimed Set Yourself on Fire, Stars
became one of the best-known Canuck outfits. Songs like “Ageless
Beauty” and the title track made use of dominant synth parts and
well-developed choruses, and they came into heavy rotation around
the same time that Death Cab for Cutie was becoming mainstream.
Stars followed that success with 2007’s In Our Bedroom After the
War, which received a nomination for a Polaris Prize. After a threeyear
hiatus, lead vocalist Torquil Campbell and his band mates are
back with Five Ghosts, which sees the group returning to some
familiar territories and key signatures.
Fans of Stars will not be disappointed by this release; Five Ghosts
has several big numbers that employ soaring choruses and lush chord
structures, qualities that listeners have come to expect from the band.
“I Died So I Could Haunt You” is both moody and upbeat, and it
22
NACHTMYSTIUM
ADDICTS: BLACK MEDDLE, PT. II
(CENTURY MEDIA)
reflects the overall appeal of the band after four full-length releases.
However, the individual parts present on Ghosts never quite click.
The album lacks the same emotional punch of Fire. While Five
Ghosts addresses lots of love and death – see “Dead Hearts” and
“How Much More” – the album ends up falling short of the band’s
desire for intimacy and poignancy.
The songs are all pleasant, but they do not always engage the
listener. Some of the problem is the record’s muffled mixing, which
muddles the melodies and the background voices. However, many
of the album’s weaknesses stem from the group’s construction of
moments instead of coherent musical structures. Sometimes the
band works so hard to achieve euphoria that it loses sight of the big
picture.
Five Ghosts is a pleasant listen, and it will appeal to folks looking
for a down-tempo dance party. However, the emotional melodies are
relegated to topical sensations that fade shortly after the record runs
down. –Bryan A. Davis
SWEET APPLE
LOVE & DESPERATION
(TEE PEE)
Sweet Apple seems like a really good idea.
Pair up Cobra Verde’s John Petkovic and
J. Mascis on a throwback, ‘70s arena rock
project and what could go awry The fact is
Love & Desperation is simply mediocre with a few bright spots to
show you what the group is capable of. Opener “Do You Remember”
is perfunctory, its power pop riffs dotted with piano stabs and an
appropriately hooky chorus while “Flying Up a Mountain” drapes a
pop hook in bluesy crunch. The song provides some of the brighter
lyrical moments of the album with gems like, “I wasn’t born, I
was detached,” defining the tongue-in-cheek approach to grief that
fills the album. “I’ve Got a Feeling (That Won’t Change)” is the
record’s high water mark. The track’s gentle pop riffs and Mascis’
trademark vocals add up to a fun two minutes, but it’s telling to
note that the album’s best song is the one that most resembles a
Dinosaur Jr. cut. The rest of Love & Desperation simply rides the
earlier songs’ momentum. Each one is a slice of radio friendly rock
-- light hearted and fun, but just not very compelling. “Dead Moon”
is a faux-Zeppelin breeze, “Hold Me, I’m Dying” apes a glam rock
stomp and “Somebody Else’s Problem” does its best to sound like a
Cheap Trick deep cut, but nothing comes close to even the moderate
fun the opening quarter provides. Love & Desperation is simply
uninspiring, making Sweet Apple more a diversion than an exciting
new band. –Mike Rodgers
WATAIN
LAWLESS DARKNESS
(SEASONS OF MIST)
“We are the Devil’s emissaries, and we
have come to do his work.” These words
from Eric Danielsson, the bassist, vocalist
and primary spokesman of Watain, taken
from an interview conducted by Brandon Stosuy back in May,
truly explains what Watain is all about, in both their music and
their beliefs. It may be of note to talk about the (real) goat’s
blood these guys spew on crowds at their shows or the fact that an
interviewer found leader Danielsson living in their studio a year
or so ago amongst rotting animal carcasses and “cartons of putrid
animal blood.” Nevertheless, this type of ritualistic living taken
up by these three Swedes is but one facet of the band. The other,
of course, is the music. And if their practices seem extreme, just
listen to their music.
Formed over a decade ago in the Swedish city of Uppsala,
this three-piece – also featuring Pelle Forsberg on guitar and
Hakan Jonsson and drums – has recorded three tremendous black
metal albums dating back to 2000’s Rabid Death’s Curse, and
now unleash upon the world their fourth epic, entitled Lawless
Darkness, here in 2010. Where past releases, especially 2007’s
Sworn to the Dark, have garnered the band recognition in metal
circles, it is their newest offering that truly pushes Watain past
contemporaneous groups and onto a platform of their own. The
album is ten songs long, not including the bonus track “Chains
of Death,” and runs for a whopping 79 minutes, without a single
track under five minutes in length. While Sworn may have
recalled Sons of Northern Darkness-era Immortal in its intensity
and riffage, Lawless is a bit of a different beast. It’s not that
Watain has lost anything in force and power here – they haven’t –
its just this time around, the songs exhibit a maturity in structure
and sound that proves a step forward for the band. Watain is
perhaps the best traditional black metal group of the past ten
years and this dark, twisted monster of an album only bolsters
that case. –Dan Mitchell
WOLF PARADE
EXPO ’86
(SUB POP)
Since establishing themselves as perhaps
the preeminent indie rock band back in 2005
with the release of their outstanding debut
album Apologies to the Queen Mary, the men
in Wolf Parade have been busy, especially the two group leaders
Spencer Krug and Dan Boeckner. Krug, the more prolific of the two,
has released at least eight records with three groups and has put out
one solo record as Moonface, while Boeckner, in turn, has released
two full-lengths with his electro-rock group the Handsome Furs, a
collaborative endeavor with his wife Alexei Perry. So yeah, busy
is one word to describe them. On top of all that, they found time in
their packed schedules to come together to release their sophomore
outing as Wolf Parade in 2008, entitled At Mount. Zoomer.
It has been two years since Zoomer and we now finally get an
all-new Wolf Parade album, an eleven-song collection called Expo
86. To me, it seemed as if WP was not firing on all cylinders on
Zoomer, perhaps due to the members’ involvement in such myriad
other projects. Not to say that I disliked the album, but it lacked
the cohesion and propulsion of Apologies; Expo 86 is another story
entirely. Right from the get-go, with the excellent Krug-led “Cloud
Shadow on the Mountain,” Wolf Parade sound as tight as they ever
have before, and this consistency and solidarity does not relent over
the eleven tracks. As always, the tracks are split down the middle
with Krug and Boeckner alternating as frontmen. This time Krug
takes six cuts, with “Two Men in New Tuxedos,” the aforementioned
opening track and the brilliant closer “Cave-O-Sapien” standing out
above the rest. Typically, Krug gets more praise than Boeckner for
his unique poetics and dense songwriting, but Boeckner stands tall
here with “Little Golden Age,” “Yulia” and “Pobody’s Nerfect” all
working as some of the best songs he has ever penned. On Expo 86,
the men of Wolf Parade work as a team and reclaim their crown as
the kings of indie rock. It feels good to have them back in such prime
form. –Dan Mitchell
XASTHUR
PORTAL OF SORROW
(HYDRA HEAD)
Xasthur has been the hateful center of
the USBM scene. His ghastly howls and
complex, dilapidated arrangements have
earned him a cult following. It’s too bad
then that Portal of Sorrow is said to be Xasthur’s last record, as its
added musical styles and horrific tone push Malefic’s compositions
to new levels. Xasthur has been consistently moving further away
from metal into black ambience, but this record finds the perfect
medium between the two styles. The trappings of extreme metal
– quick tempos, grinding guitars, screaming vocals – are dotted
across the record, but counter-pointed by dark ambience and gothic
towers of sound. At a time when black metal is becoming more and
more popular, it’s interesting to note that Xasthur is pushing further
from the mainstream. The record utilizes acoustic guitars regularly,
adding a level of organic sound. “Broken Glass
Christening” pairs wet-box, blast-beat drumming with distorted
keys to create a pseudo-metal grind that leads to a heavy riff buried
under piano and wails. The addition of Marissa Nadler provides an
interesting juxtaposition within the music. Her ghostly voice floats
above the grimy moan of “This Abyss Holds the Mirror” while
Malefic’s growls lurk below the surface. Xasthur is more concerned
with mood and exploring the more subtle aspects of darkness. Bleak
instead of grandiose, self-hating instead of confrontational, Portal
of Sorrow is despair personified. I wait in anticipation for whatever
direction Malefic takes next. –Mike Rodgers
BOOK & FILM REVIEWS
BRETT EASTON ELLIS
IMPERIAL BEDROOMS
(KNOPF)
Less Than Zero is often remembered more
as a cultural artifact than a novel. It detailed
the vapid, corrupt lives of rich, L.A. teens
in the high and bright ‘80s and brought its
young author into the realm of stardom. Now
over twenty years later, Ellis returns to those
characters to sneak a glimpse of their lives
circa 2010. And it’s not pretty. Following Clay, Blair, Julian and
Rip once more, Imperial Bedrooms is less the sequel it’s billed as
and more of a vicious comment on both the work that built his career

REVIEWS
and the kind of depraved culture victims that still populate the seedy side of Hollywood. Clay returns once
more to L.A., this time as a screenwriter for a new film cheekily entitled The Listeners. The plot opens like
most of Ellis’ work, narrating the ins and outs of high society in a detached, hyper-detailed way, while a
plot slowly begins to surface. Mystery begins to cloud the book and soon the characters are caught in a
web of espionage, murder and sex that their emotionless psyches are ill equipped to deal with. It’s not that
over the years Ellis has become a different writer – just a better one. He deftly weaves threads of tension,
hidden agendas and surprising, even shocking moments of violence into his milieu of insubstantial parties and
circular conversations, letting the reader come away with not only a breathless new story, but insights that
reshape Less Than Zero as well. There are interesting meta-moments throughout Imperial Bedrooms: Clay
details the book that was written about them and the movie made from the book, taking potshots at the cleanup
job Hollywood had perpetrated on their sad story. It’s just another way that Ellis has improved as a writer
since his debut. At just over 150 pages, Imperial Bedrooms is more a novella than anything, but the story’s
brisk pace, the arid nature of the prose and the initial impact of the book’s gruesome, heartlessly cruel climax
all benefit from the precise, sharp nature of Ellis’ voice. –Mike Rodgers
JUAN JOSE CAMPANELLA
THE SECRET IN THEIR EYES
(SONY PICTURES CLASSICS)
“The eyes...speak’” is one of many declarative discoveries in Argentinean filmmaker
Juan Jose Campanella’s 2010 Best Foreign Film The Secret In Their Eyes. This
enthralling tragedy unravels a cloak-and-dagger case alongside the characters left to
piece together the unjust and tragically fatal rape of a beautiful young woman, with a
widower left vengefully frozen in time. Part murder-mystery, part thriller, this picture
is touching, clever and captivating from the initial suffering through a string of hidden
truths that ultimately lead to unearthing the most shocking of secrets.
“His future was full of nothing,” the voiceover narration laments after Ricardo
Morales (Pablo Rago) comes home to find his twenty three year old wife bloody and
mangled across the couple’s shared bed. Morales spends the rest of his life obsessing over the loss of his love,
and Benjamin – the federal agent assigned to the case (and first to arrive at the scene of the crime) – thereafter
spends most of his years consumed by this incident and its key subjects, both dead and alive. Emblematic of
South American storytelling’s convoluted romanticism, Benjamin is so deeply disturbed by this abrupt end of
an affair due to the pent up adoration he holds for his boss, Irene, also entwined in the incident’s aftermath.
Campanella strikes with swift scene transitions and cuts with an unrelenting forward motion, but never
lingers, gracing the audience with few wide shots and a smattering of long takes. Still, as comedy is weaved
into the suspense, one is forced to swallow a strong dose of emotional conflict synced with the thrill. The
Secret also successfully maps out a heavy script packed with conversational dialog and an intellectual voiceover
(providing the audience an intimacy with Benjamin’s inner sentiments and thoughts). In those camera
moments not displayed through blurred close-ups and a frequently hyperactive focus lens, the direction
resembles certain theatrical inclinations, such as blocked shots that produce a premeditated composition of
mise-en-scene. The Secret In Their Eyes gracefully dances with multiple genres and styles, maintaining a
refreshing quality resulting in unpredictable conclusions. The film stares point blank at death, loss, memory
(“or memories of memories”), and challenges one’s ability to live with and without not only the unattainable,
but more importantly, what’s behind closed doors. –Laine Kaplan-Levenson
ROLLER
DERBY
The University of New Orleans
Human Performance Center
(on the corner of Leon C. Simon & Elysian Fields)
s a t u r d a y
07.24.10
Doubleheader!
BERG AllStars
vs.
Oklahoma Victory Dolls
Doors at 5pm
Action at 6pm
Crescent Wenches
vs.
Chattanooga Roller Girls
$12 in advance | $15 at the door
TICKETS
AVAILABLE
Tickets
NOW
Available
from
www.bigeasyrollergirls.com
www.BIGEASYROLLERGIRLS.com
$12 in advance | $15 at the door
23

EVENTS
N.O. VENUES
All-Ways Lounge/Marigny Theatre, 2240 St. Claude Ave., (504) 218-5778, marignytheatre.org
Banks St. Bar And Grill, 4401 Banks St., (504) 486-0258, www.banksstreetbar.com
Barrister’s Art Gallery, 2331 St. Claude Ave.
Bayou Park Bar, 542 S. Jeff. Davis Pkwy.
The Big Top, 1638 Clio St., (504) 569-2700, www.3ringcircusproductions.com
The Blue Nile, 534 Frenchmen St., (504) 948-2583
Broadmoor House, 4127 Walmsley, (504) 821-2434
Carrollton Station, 8140 Willow St., (504) 865-9190, www.carrolltonstation.com
Checkpoint Charlie’s, 501 Esplanade Ave., (504) 947-0979
Chickie Wah Wah, 2828 Canal Street (504) 304-4714, www.chickiewahwah.com
Circle Bar, 1032 St. Charles Ave., (504) 588-2616, www.circlebar.net
Club 300, 300 Decatur Street, www.neworleansjazzbistro.com
The Country Club, 634 Louisa St., (504) 945-0742, www.countryclubneworleans.com
d.b.a., 618 Frenchmen St., (504) 942-373, www.drinkgoodstuff.com/no
Der Rathskeller (Tulane’s Campus), McAlister Dr., http://wtul.fm
Dragon’s Den, 435 Esplanade Ave., http://myspace.com/dragonsdennola
Eldon’s House, 3055 Royal Street, arlovanderbel@hotmail.com
Ernie K-Doe’s Mother-in-Law Lounge, 1500 N. Claiborne Ave.
Fair Grinds Coffee House, 3133 Ponce de Leon, (504) 913-9072, www.fairgrinds.com
Fuel Coffee House, 4807 Magazine St. (504) 895-5757
Goldmine Saloon, 701 Dauphine St., (504) 586-0745, www.goldminesaloon.net
The Green Space, 2831 Marais Street (504) 945-0240, www.thegreenproject.org
Handsome Willy’s, 218 S. Robertson St., (504) 525-0377, http://handsomewillys.com
The Hangar, 1511 S. Rendon. (504) 827-7419
Hi-Ho Lounge, 2239 St. Claude Ave. (504) 945-4446, www.myspace.com/hiholounge
The Hookah, 309 Decatur St. (504-943-1101), hookah-club.com
Hot Iron Press Plant, 1420 Kentucky Ave., hotironpress@hotmail.com
House Of Blues / The Parish, 225 Decatur, (504)310-4999, www.hob.com/neworleans
The Howlin’ Wolf, 907 S. Peters, (504) 522-WOLF, www.thehowlinwolf.com
Kajun’s Pub, 2256 St. Claude Avenue (504) 947-3735, www.myspace.com/kajunspub
Kim’s 940, 940 Elysian Fields, (504) 844-4888
The Kingpin, 1307 Lyons St., (504) 891-2373
Le Bon Temps Roule, 4801 Magazine St., (504) 895-8117
Le Chat Noir, 715 St. Charles Ave., (504) 581-5812, www.cabaretlechatnoir.com
Lyceum Central, 618 City Park Ave., (410) 523-4182, http://lyceumproject.com
Lyon’s Club, 2920 Arlington St.
The Maison, 508 Frenchmen St., maisonfrenchmen.com
Mama’s Blues, 616 N. Rampart St., (504) 453-9290
Maple Leaf, 8316 Oak St., (504) 866-9359
Marlene’s Place, 3715 Tchoupitoulas, (504) 897-3415, www.myspace.com/marlenesplace
McKeown’s Books, 4737 Tchoupitoulas, (504) 895-1954, http://mckeownsbooks.net
Melvin’s, 2112 St. Claude Ave.
MVC, 9800 Westbank Expressway, (504) 234-2331, www.themvc.net
Neutral Ground Coffee House, 5110 Danneel St., (504) 891-3381, www.neutralground.org
Nowe Miasto, 223 Jane Pl., (504) 821-6721
Ogden Museum, 925 Camp St., (504) 539-9600
One Eyed Jacks, 615 Toulouse St., (504) 569-8361, www.oneeyedjacks.net
Outer Banks, 2401 Palmyra (at S. Tonti), (504) 628-5976, www.myspace.com/outerbanksmidcity
Republic, 828 S. Peters St., (504) 528-8282, www.republicnola.com
Rusty Nail, 1100 Constance Street (504) 525-5515, www.therustynail.org/
The Saturn Bar, 3067 St. Claude Ave., www.myspace.com/saturnbar
Side Arm Gallery, 1122 St. Roch Ave., (504) 218-8379, www.sidearmgallery.org
Southport Hall, 200 Monticello Ave., (504) 835-2903, www.newsouthport.com
The Spellcaster Lodge, 3052 St. Claude Avenue, www.quintonandmisspussycat.com
St. Roch Taverne, 1200 St. Roch Ave., (504) 945-0194
Tipitina’s, (Uptown) 501 Napoleon Ave., (504) 895-8477 (Downtown) 233 N. Peters, www.tipitinas.com
The Zeitgeist, 1618 Oretha Castle Haley Blvd., (504) 827-5858, www.zeitgeistinc.net
Vintage Uptown, 4523 Magazine St., askmexico@gmail.com
METAIRIE VENUES
The Bar, 3224 Edenborn, myspace.com/thebarrocks
The High Ground, 3612 Hessmer Ave., Metairie, (504) 525-0377, www.thehighgroundvenue.com
24
THURSDAY 7/1
The Abney Effect, The Maison, 9pm
Gulf Coast Benefit w/ Galactic, Ivan Neville, Coco
Robicheaux, Rotary Downs, Joe Krown Trio, John
Gros, We Are One Brass Band, Young Fellaz Brass
Band, Tipitina’s, 9pm, $15
Natalie Palms w/ The Jamesons, Hannah Kreiger-
Benson, Circle Bar
Paul Sanchez, d.b.a., 7pm
Red Dog Album Release Party, The Maison
(Penthouse), 8pm
Shamarr Allen and the Underdawgs, d.b.a., 10pm
Vivian Green, House Of Blues, 9pm
FRIDAY 7/2
ActionActionReaction Indie Dance Party, Circle Bar
Earphunk, Banks Street Bar & Grill, 10pm
Gal Holiday & the Honky Tonk Revue, Country
Fried, Tipitina’s, 10pm, FREE
Hot Club of New Orleans, d.b.a., 6pm
The Iguanas, d.b.a., 10pm, $5
Izzy and the Hesstronics, The Maison, 10pm
Leroy Jones Quartet, Antoine’s Hermes Bar, 9:30pm,
11pm
Lovehog, Underwater Aces, Hi-Ho Lounge, 10pm
Robert Meachem & Tracy Porter’s Official Essence
Kickoff Party w/ EF Cuttin’, The Hookah, 10pm
Soul Rebels, Blue Nile, 11pm
Steve Eck and the Midnight Still, Natalie Mae, The
Long Tangles, Saturn Bar, 10pm, $5
SATURDAY 7/3
AG Strongly Recommends: Benefit for Dave
“Dee Slut” Turgeon f/ The Sluts, Die Rotzz, Guitar
Lightnin’ Lee, The Unnaturals, Miss Kitty Lynn,
Velveteen Elvis, Happy Talk, The Bastard Sons of
Marvin Hirsch, Lonely Nights, DJ Team Hardhat,
Hi-Ho Lounge, 8pm, $10
Art of Luxury Black & White Exclusive w/ Doug E.
Fresh (Live In Person), Juvenile, DJ Biz Markie and
more, House Of Blues, 10pm
Celebrity Day Event w/ Idris Elba, Ryan Cameron,
DJ Biz Markie, Al B. Sure, DJ Vince Adams, House
Of Blues, 1pm
Dappa, Blue Nile (Upstairs), 9pm
Dirty Bourbon River Show Album Release Party
w/ DeBauche and the Tillie Vermillion Burlesque
Troupe w/ Dorian Frost and Jessica Dennuit, Banks
Street Bar & Grill, 10pm
Glen David Andrews, Antoine’s Hermes Bar,
9:30pm, 11pm
Legally Blind, Blue Nile, 11pm
Little Freddie King, d.b.a., 11pm, $5
Marc Stone, Bayou Park Bar, 10pm
Shamarr Allen’s 3rd Annual B-Day Bash f/ Shamarr
Allen and the Underdawgs and Special Guests,
Tipitina’s, 10pm, $10
Spickle, Hostile Apostle, Circle Bar
SUNDAY 7/4
The A-List Special Essence Party, The Hookah,
10pm
Hat Talk and Special Guests, Banks Street Bar &
Grill, 9pm
Lost Grips, Circle Bar
World Be Freeman, d.b.a., 10pm
MONDAY 7/5
Head Case, Banks Street Bar & Grill, 9pm
Rooney, The Young Veins, Republic, 8pm, $15
TUESDAY 7/6
Debauche, My Graveyard Jaw, Felix, Hi-Ho Lounge,
10pm
TUESDAY 7/6 (Cont...)
Michael Shaefer, Circle Bar
Open Ears Music Series w/ Music Mash Up v.3.0,
Blue Nile, 10pm
WEDNESDAY 7/7
The Geraniums, Circle Bar
The Mirlitones, d.b.a., 7pm
THURSDAY 7/8
Big Soda Band, PS Eliot, Banks Street Bar & Grill,
11:30pm
Homegrown Night w/ Raw Revolution, Official
Business Entertainment, Tipitina’s, 8:30pm
My Graveyard Jaw, d.b.a., 7pm
Proud Father Radical Temple, The Maison, 10pm
R. Scully and the Rough Seven, d.b.a., 10pm, $5
Soul Project, The Maison, 9pm
Woven Bones, Giant Cloud, Moon Dudes, Circle Bar
FRIDAY 7/9
Adopt a Unit Fundraiser f/ Fleur de Tease, Morgan
La Rue, Eudora and Depp Soul, Mahayla, Alias
Orion, Howlin’ Wolf
Flow Tribe, Blue Nile, 11pm
Jak Locke Green Genes, The Maison (Penthouse),
10pm
Jamie Cullum, Julian Velard, House Of Blues, 8pm
Krewe of Dead Pelicans Benefit for ProtectOurCoast.
org w/ Pair-O-Dice Tumblers Brass Band, Hi-Ho
Lounge, 9pm
Meschiya Lake and the Little Big Horns, d.b.a., 6pm
Mia Borders, The Maison, 10:30pm
Panorama Jazz Band, Antoine’s Hermes Bar,
9:30pm, 11pm
The Space Heaters, Banks Street Bar & Grill, 10pm
Terranova, The Bar, 10pm, $5
The Tom Paines Album Release Party, One Eyed Jacks
Walter Wolfman Washington, Tipitina’s, 10pm,
FREE
Yojimbo, The Maison, Midnight
Zing!Zing!, Republic, 10pm, $5
SATURDAY 7/10
Alex McMurray w/ Bill Malchow, Antoine’s Hermes
Bar, 9:30pm, 11pm
B. Sterling Band, Café Prytania, 9:45pm
Benefit for Big-Arian Maecklin f/ Stooges Brass
Band, Hot 8 Brass Band, Free Agents, TBC, We Are
One, Kin Folks, All-Stars, Tipitina’s, 9pm, $10
Big Chief Monk Boudreaux, d.b.a., 11pm, $5
Big Rock Candy Mountain, Blue Nile, 11pm
Bionica, Blue Nile (Upstairs)
ELLE!oh!Elle, The American Tragedy, Through
Heidi’s Eyes, House Of Blues, 6pm
Jak Locke and Green Genes, The Maison
(Penthouse), 10pm
Kevin O’Day and James Andrews All-Star Band,
Banks Street Bar & Grill, 10pm
Marlon Jordan, Bayou Park Bar, 10pm
Ola Podrida, Benjamin Jones, Julie Odell, Circle Bar
The Revealers, The Maison, 10pm
Slow Burn Burlesque and Grindin Diamonds Present:
South of Heaven, Howlin’ Wolf
Stix duh Clown, Spirit Family Reunion, Hi-Ho
Lounge, 10pm
Turnip Greens, Wilson & Moore, La. Music Factory,
2pm
SUNDAY 7/11
The Geraniums, d.b.a., 10pm
Girlfriends, The Dives, Dead People, Circle Bar
Gorilla Productions’ Battle of the Bands, Howlin’
Wolf

EVENTS
SUNDAY 7/11 (Cont...)
Marc Stone, Banks Street Bar & Grill, 9pm
The Turnip Greens, Banks Street Bar & Grill,
4pm
MONDAY 7/12
Defend New Orleans Presents Bob Log III
w/ Molly Gene One Whoaman Band, Dirty
Bourbon River, One Eyed Jacks
The N’awlins Johnnys, Banks Street Bar &
Grill, 10pm
The Preservation, Country Fried, Circle Bar
TUESDAY 7/13
Curren$y Album Release Party, Republic, 9pm,
FREE
Open Ears Music Series w/ WATIV, Blue Nile,
10pm
Turnip Greens, Circle Bar
WEDNESDAY 7/14
Creepy Fest 2010 w/ Guantanamo Baywatch,
The Unnaturals, The Dives, Circle Bar, 10pm,
FREE
OTP, IWRESTLEDABEARONCE, Stray From
the Path, Bury Tomorrow, The Parish @ House
Of Blues, 8pm
The Protomen w/ Super 8 Bit Brothers, The
Adventures of Duane and Brando, One Eyed
Jacks
The Unnaturals, Guantanamo Baywatch, Circle
Bar
THURSDAY 7/15
The Abney Effect, The Maison, 9pm
Andrew Duhon, d.b.a., 6pm
Aquarium Drunkard Presents Roadside Graves,
Futurebirds, The Blue Party, One Eyed Jacks
Creepy Fest w/ Concrete Shoes, Donkey
Puncher, Nemesis Destroyer, Outer Banks,
10pm, FREE
George French, d.b.a., 10pm, $5
Happy Jack Frequency, The Maison, 9pm
FRIDAY 7/16
Big Rock Candy Mountain, Vox and Hound,
Hi-Ho Lounge, 10pm
Booty Trove, Republic, 10pm, $5
Chris Duhon’s Stand Tall Foundation Presents:
The Dynamic Duo of Comedy f/ JJ Williamson
and Debra Terry, House Of Blues, 6:30pm, 8pm
Creepy Fest w/ Nassty Habits, Toxic Rott, The
Bills, Makeshift Lover, The Saint, 10pm, FREE
Felix, Lovey Dovies, Glorybee, Circle Bar
Good Enough for Good Times, d.b.a., 10pm, $5
Groovesect, Banks Street Bar & Grill, 10pm
Honey Island Swamp Band, The Tangle,
Tipitina’s, 10pm, FREE
Hot Club of New Orleans, d.b.a., 6pm
Kermit Ruffins and the BBQ Swingers, Blue
Nile, 11pm
Platform One, Howlin’ Wolf, 9pm, $45
Shannon Powell Trio, Antoine’s Hermes Bar,
9:30pm, 11pm
Southern Gothic Festival, Howlin’ Wolf
SATURDAY 7/17
6 Pack Deep, The Maison (Penthouse), 10pm
A.J. Loria, Troy Turner, La. Music Factory,
2pm
Barbara Menendez and the Help, Carrollton
Station, 10pm
Becky’s Birthday Bash w/ Meadowflow, The
Bad Assets, Banks Street Bar & Grill
Creepy Fest w/ the Pallbearers, Crotchbreaker,
VapoRats, Bayou Park Bar, 10pm, FREE
DJ MC Microphone Off the Dome Emcee
Competition, Hi-Ho Lounge, 10pm
Easy Company, The Maison, 10pm
Groovesect, Gravy, Tipitina’s, 10pm, $8
Ingrid Lucia, Antoine’s Hermes Bar, 9:30pm,
11pm
The New Orleans Bingo! Show, One Eyed
Jacks
OTRA, d.b.a., 11pm, $5
Robert Fortune, Blue Nile, 9pm
Southern Gothic Festival, Howlin’ Wolf
The Viatones, Child Bite, Circle Bar
SUNDAY 7/18
Creepy Fest w/ The Poots’ Album Release
Party, The Split()Lips, Red Dons, Dummy
Dumpster, Saturn Bar, 10pm
Kristin Diable, d.b.a., 10pm
Lonely Horse, Circle Bar
Marc Stone, Banks Street Bar & Grill, 9pm
MONDAY 7/19
Cointreau Presents: An Evening With Dita Von
Teese, House Of Blues, 9pm
Earphunk w/ Special Guests, Banks Street Bar
& Grill, 10pm
TUESDAY 7/20
Clarence “Trixzey” Slaughter’s Exclusive
Birthday Party, Blue Nile, 10pm
Cointreau Presents: An Evening With Dita Von
Teese, House Of Blues, 9pm
Man at Home, Summer Pledge, High in One
Eye, Circle Bar
Open Music Series w/ Naked Orchestra, Blue
Nile (Upstairs), 10pm
WEDNESDAY 7/21
Reverend Beat-Man, One Eyed Jacks
Sons of an Illustrious Father, Meg Roussel,
Mallory, Circle Bar
THURSDAY 7/22
Armandos Comedy/Sketch Show Encore, One
Eyed Jacks, 8pm
Bounce w/ DJ Jubilee, Big Freedia, Jean Eric,
Katey Red, Rusty Lazer, Republic, 10pm, $8
($5 w/ Student ID)
Drivin N’ Cryin, Tipitina’s, 10pm, $15
Legalpalooza! 2nd Annual NOBA YLS Charity
Concert, The Parish @ House Of Blues, 7pm
Soul Project, The Maison, 9pm
Velveteen Elvis, Circle Bar, 10pm
FRIDAY 7/23
2010 New Orleans Beatles Festival f/ The
Topcats, Chuck Credo IV, Beatin’ Path, Wings’
Thaddeus Richard and Various Artists, House
Of Blues, 9pm
Brass Bed, Empress Hotel, Native America,
Blue Nile, 11pm
Quintron and Miss Pussycat Tour Diary, Continued
from Page 17...
of the back door. The people seemed perplexed and joked as P and I
set up the puppet theatre and the bartender seemed like he was waiting
for any opportunity to smash any patron who crossed him. On the plus
side though, Susanne, the bar owner, was very accommodating and
nice and the drummer for the opening band the Cusses was superfriendly.
They really drew a crowd and warmed them up for Q and P.
Despite my initial worries about how Q and P would be received in
Savannah, the crowd went crazy. One red Lycra pants-clad young man
was thrown out for continuously jumping on stage and attempting to
dance with Miss Pussycat. P loved that and I tried to get the fella back
in, but I was told not to interfere. The Jinx is kind of a metal bar, and
the metal-fan bartenders didn’t think that Quintron and Miss Pussycat
fans should be moshing/fighting. Because of this, the bartender took
it upon himself to shower the crowd with water to “cool them down.”
In his words, “it’s not like you guys are Metallica or something. We
didn’t think that we’d need extra security for your show.” I think this
made Q and P proud.
Washington, DC: I love DC, so I was stoked to spend some time
there. We arrived at 5 and headed over to an Ethiopian restaurant for
dinner with Ian Svenonius and Kid Congo Powers. The food was
delish, and the conversation was even better. Ian told us all about
his recent interviews for VBS’ Soft Focus, his last European tour
with Chain and the Gang and he gave us his newest album. Kid
Congo Powers gave us some tips on where to stay in various parts of
Europe... neat! DC was our introduction to Jeff the Brotherhood, the
band that we would tour with for two weeks. Jake, Jaimen and David,
their tour manager, are three of the sweetest people on Earth and that
was immediately apparent. They are big Q and P fans, so they jumped
right in to help P and I set up the puppet theatre and seemed to relish
the chance to watch Quintron do some maintenance on his equipment.
The first band, Peggy Sue (from England), really knocked my socks
off. Their harmonies are pitch perfect and all the members are multiinstrumentalists!
My first Jeff the Brotherhood live experience was a
thrill; they are such great showmen. Their onstage presence actually
reminds me a bit of Q and P: fog, lights, dancing in the crowd... Their
music is awesome: prog-rock/grunge/psych, and it’s so catchy. Oh,
and Jake and Jaimen are cute as buttons, which makes it all the better.
The DC show was also our first meeting with Allen Shepherd, close
friend of Fred Schneider of the B-52’s and an all-around awesome
guy. I loved the DC show for the dancing crowd. They danced
their asses off and I know that Q and P soaked it all in; the crowd is
definitely the variable that can make or break a performance, and this
crowd made the show.
Baltimore: We got to Baltimore about five hours before we had to
load in, so we did some exploring. P and I surprised Allen Shepherd
at the all-organic hair salon that he works at, and he washed P’s
hair with organic shampoo that smells and tastes (yes, you can eat
it) like chocolate cake! Q and P then headed over to Atomic book
store, where all of John Waters’ fan mail goes, and stocked up on
some books for the road. The van is a veritable library, by the way,
since we all pick up some form of reading material at most cities that
we visit. We loaded the gear onto the tiny stage at Golden West,
which doubles as a greasy spoon cafe during the day. The highlight
of the night was the dance team that performed during Q and P’s set.
One of the members of the team had contacted Q a week earlier and
asked permission to perform a dance routine to “Place Unknown.”
Obviously, Q and P were thrilled at the prospect of this. The dance
team exceeded all of our expectations: their outfits consisted of a
neon-colored, geometrical pattern on spandex with correlating
geometrical shapes painted on their faces and bodies! And the dress
that I happened to be wearing that night perfectly matched what they
had on! Their dance moves mirrored their outfits: loud and over
the top! Everyone was really into it. Another very interesting tidbit
about the night is that a baseball-capped Talib Kweli watched the
end of Q and P’s set from the back of the cafe; he arrived and left
very inconspicuously so none of us had the chance to chat with him.
I can proudly say, though, that his head was in a constant state of
bob during the show.
Brooklyn: Our first show in NYC was in Williamsburg at a DIY
club called Death By Audio. The place is pretty grungy but the
sound is great! It’s run by musicians that build and sell guitar pedals.
The show ended up selling out, evidenced by the most continuously
long bathroom line that I’ve ever seen. Golden Triangle opened
the show and chaos ensued. It was particularly exciting when OJ
crowd-surfed while playing guitar. The energy mounted during
Jeff the Brotherhood’s set and reached its peak during the Quintron
and Miss Pussycat performance. There was a near show-stopping
moment when Q’s organ was almost pulled off the stage by some
over-zealous folks in the crowd. The place also went ape shit when
sexy Alix Brown, bass player for Golden Triangle, joined Miss P on
maracas for a few songs.
Manhattan: I was really looking forward to the Manhattan show
at Santo’s Party House all tour for a few reasons: it’s Andrew
WK’s bar and I’d heard that the place was really nice and sounded
great; I knew we had the following day off, so we could stay out
as late as we felt like and I knew that a lot of our friends were
going to be at the show. Santo’s did not disappoint. It’s a big, black
box theatre-styled venue, and the sound is every musician’s dream.
There are speakers everywhere you look. The sound guy, Daniel
Neumann, is super talented and very nice too. I really enjoyed the
first band of the night, Ava Luna. The band consists of three girls
that do back-up vocals, a drummer, a guitar player and the lead
singer who also plays keyboard and tambourine. He’s a nerdy
white kid that sings like a black ‘60s-era soul singer. The girls
reminded me of the Ronettes. By the time Q and P played, Santo’s
was packed! There was a bit of drama when a drag queen who said
she was with the press threw a hissy fit after finding out that she
wasn’t on the guest list. Aside from this minor disturbance, the
show was bushels of fun. I danced my ass off! The last thing that
I remember is eating tons of cheese balls while chatting under a
table with Jake from Jeff the Brotherhood. By far, the most surreal
night of this tour was Monday, June 14th, the night that we had
dinner with Fred Schneider! Allen Shepherd arranged the dinner
per Fred’s request; Fred, it just so happens, is a big Quintron and
Miss Pussycat fan! We met up with Fred, Allen and their crazy
drummer friend at Vinyl in Manhattan. Q, P and I were all a little
nervous to meet Fred, the rock legend that he is, but he was so cool
and laid back; he put us all at ease. We followed up dinner with
drinks at Fred’s favorite French restaurant, where Fred showed us
his bar dance. Imagine the bar is a horse, and Fred is riding it.
AWESOME!
Quintron and Miss Pussycat are still on the road as of this
printing, but will be back in town to play with Paul Collins at
One Eyed Jack’s on June 24th. For more information, check out
quintronandmisspussycat.com.
25

EVENTS
26
FRIDAY 6/23 (Cont...)
Egg Yolk Jubilee, Banks Street Bar & Grill, 10pm
Glen David Andrews, d.b.a., 10pm, $10
Johnny Sketch and the Dirty Notes, Mia Borders,
Tipitina’s, 10pm, FREE
Kyle Turley Band, One Eyed Jacks
Meschiya Lake and the Little Big Horns, d.b.a., 6pm
Panorama Jazz Band, Antoine’s Hermes Bar,
9:30pm, 11pm
Planarian Productions Presents Old School
Bounce Cheeky Blakk, Hi-Ho Lounge, 10pm
Rebirth Brass Band, The Lee Boys, Howlin’ Wolf
Wolves, Where Republic, 10pm, $5
WCP, The Maison, 10pm
SATURDAY 7/24
Headcase, Bayou Park Bar, 10pm
Lucy’s Retired Surfer Bar’s Annual Block
Party Luau w/ The Unnaturals, The Bills, The
Americanos, Lucy’s Retired Surfer Bar, 2pm
Eric Lindell, 11pm, $10
Gal Holiday & the Honky Tonk Revue, Circle Bar
Juice, Andrew Duhon and the Lonesome Crows,
Tipitina’s, 10pm, $10
The Lobbyist, the Auto Pilots, Howlin’ Wolf
(Live in the Den)
Machine Made Slave, Fat Stupid Ugly People,
Moonhoar, Hi-Ho Lounge, 10pm
Mia Borders, Chickie Wah Wah, 9pm, $10
Mike Darby and the House of Cards, Banks
Street Bar & Grill, 10pm
Mike Dillon’s Go Go Jungle meets Hairy Apes
BMX, Blue Nile, 11pm
WTUL Presents: New Orleans Record Raid, Iron
Rail, Noon-6pm
Quintron and Miss Pussycat, One Eyed Jacks
Sasha Masakowski, Antoine’s Hermes Bar, 9:30pm, 11pm
Worn Again nola4, Howlin’ Wolf, Patron Party,
7pm; Fashion Show, 8:30pm
SUNDAY 7/25
Amy Trail Album Release Party, The Maison, 10pm
Marc Stone, Banks Street Bar & Grill, 9pm
Mas Mamones, d.b.a., 10pm
Peace of Mind Orchestra, Circle Bar
MONDAY 7/26
The N’awlins Johnnys, Banks Street Bar & Grill, 9pm
TUESDAY 7/27
Charlie Louvin, One Eyed Jacks
Open Ears Music Series w/ Dana Jessen, Jeff
Albert and others, Blue Nile, 10pm
Sublime, Rome, Howlin’ Wolf
WEDNESDAY 7/28
Lydia w/ Deas Veil, Rocketboys, One Eyed Jacks
THURSDAY 7/29
Ballyhoo!, Mike Pinto, Howlin’ Wolf (Live in the
Den), 10pm
Colin Lake, d.b.a., 7pm
Easy Company, Circle Bar
Will Bernard Trio f/ Coogan and Lott, d.b.a., 10pm, $5
FRIDAY 7/30
Brah, Prytania, Viva Da Lay, One Eyed Jacks
DJ / Drummer Set w/ Damion Yancy & Eric
Rogers, Republic, 10pm, $5
Hot Club of New Orleans, d.b.a., 6pm
John Rankin Trio, Antoine’s Hermes Bar, 9:30pm, 11pm
Kermit Ruffins and the BBQ Swingers, Blue Nile, 11pm
Lillian Axe Album Release Party, Howlin’ Wolf
Papa Grows Funk, The Revivalists, Tipitina’s,
10pm, FREE
Silent Cinema, Banks Street Bar & Grill, 10pm
SATURDAY 7/31
Captain Midnight Band, Banks Street Bar &
Grill, 10pm
City Zoo, The Swip, The Maison (Penthouse), 10pm
Dan Rivers, MEschiya Lake, Roddie Romero and
the Hub City All-Stars, La. Music Factory, 2pm
The IQ f/ members of the Iguanas, Antoine’s
Hermes Bar, 9:30pm, 11pm
Jamaican Me Crazy: A Night of Reggae f/ Bo Dollis
Jr. and the Wild Magnolias, Tipitina’s, 10pm, $8
The Mandrake Product, Glasgow, Hi-Ho Lounge, 10pm
Mia Borders, Rusty Nail, 10pm
Paul Sanchez, d.b.a., 8pm
Roddie Romero and the Hub City All-Stars,
d.b.a., 11pm, $5
Soul Rebels Brass Band, Blue Nile, 11pm
Tony Italiano, Automatic Man, Bayou Park Bar, 10pm
WEEKLIES EVENTS
MONDAYS
Blue Grass Pickin’ Party, Hi-Ho Lounge, 8pm
Brett Richardson, Spotted Cat, 4pm
Dominic Grillo and the Frenchmen St. All-Stars,
Spotted Cat
Glen David Andrews, d.b.a., 9pm
Jak Locke, The Box Office, 8pm
Jayna Morgan and the Sazerac Sunrise Band, The
Maison, 7pm
Jazz Vipers, Spotted Cat, 10pm
Mad Mike, Checkpoint Charlie’s, 8pm
N’awlins Johnnys, Banks Street Bar & Grill, 9pm
New Orleans Musicians Open Mic Jam w/ Soul
Project, The Maison, 10pm
Noxious Noize’s Punk and Metal Night,
Dragon’s Den (Downstairs)
Open Mic, Bayou Park Bar, 9pm
Trivia Night, Circle Bar, 8pm
TUESDAYS
Acoustic Open Mic, Carrollton Station, 9pm
Acoustic Open Mic w/ Jim Smith, Checkpoint
Charlie’s, 10pm
Barisal Guns, Banks Street Bar & Grill, 10pm
(Dark on 6/15)
Brett Richardson, Spotted Cat, 4pm
Cortland Burke w/ Special Guests, Bayou Park
Bar, 9pm
Jerry Jumonville, Spotted Cat
Meschiya Lake and the Little Big Horns, Spotted Cat
New Orleans Cottonmouth Kings, d.b.a., 9pm
No Name Trio, The Maison, 10pm
Open Mic w/ Whiskey T., Rusty Nail, 8pm
The Smoking Time Jazz Club, The Maison, 7pm
Tikioke, The Saint, 9pm, FREE
The Tom Paines, Circle Bar, 6pm
Trivia Tuesday, Hi-Ho Lounge, 8:30pm
WEDNESDAYS
Bionica, Banks Street Bar & Grill, 10pm
Booty Trove Brass Band, Howlin’ Wolf, FREE
Brett Richardson, Spotted Cat, 4pm
Cat’s Pajamas, The Maison, 9pm
Dan Wallace Quartet, The Box Office, 7pm
DJ Lefty Parker, R Bar
DJ T-Roy Presents: Dancehall Classics,
Dragon’s Den, 10pm, $5
Gravity A, Blue Nile, 10pm
Jim O. and The No Shows w/ Mama Go-Go,
Circle Bar, 6pm
Kenny Holiday and the Rolling Blackouts,
Checkpoint Charlie’s, 9pm
Khris Royal and Dark Matter, Blue Nile, 10pm
Loose Marbles, Spotted Cat, 6pm
Lynn Drury and Friends, Bayou Park Bar, 10pm

EVENTS
WEDNESDAY WEEKLIES (Cont...)
Marygoround & The Tiptoe Stampede, All-Ways
Lounge
Mojotoro Tango Trio, Yuki (525 Frenchmen St.), 8pm
Musician Appreciation Night, The Bar, 7pm
Ratty Scurvics Unplugged & Special Guests, Hi-
Ho Lounge, 7pm, 9pm
St. Louis Slim and the Frenchmen St. Jug Band,
Spotted Cat, 10pm
Standup Comedy Open Mic, Carrollton Station, 9pm
Teddy Bear Elvis, The Maison, 7pm
Tin Men, d.b.a., 7pm
United Postal Project, Blue Nile, 8pm
Walter Wolfman Washington and The
Roadmasters, d.b.a., 10pm, $5
THURSDAYS
A.S.S.tronot, La Nuit Comedy Theater, 8:30pm
Brett Richardson, Spotted Cat, 4pm
Classic Country w/ Ron Hotstream, Bayou Park
Bar, 10pm
Come Drink with Matt Vaughn, R Bar
Comedy Gumbeaux, Howlin’ Wolf (Live in the
Den), 8pm
Dave Jordan’s Neighborhood Improvement,
Banks Street Bar & Grill, 10pm
DJ Frenzi, DJ Daniel Steel, Dragon’s Den
(Downstairs), 10pm
DJ Kemistry, LePhare
DJ T-Roy, Blue Nile, 10pm
DJ Tom Harvey’s Unlock the House, Blue Nile
(Upstairs), 10pm
Exhale: A Ladies Night, The Hookah, 10pm
Fast Times ‘80s Dance Night, One Eyed Jacks
The Fens w/ Sneaky Pete, Checkpoint Charlie’s, 10pm
Jeremy Davenport, The Davenport Lounge @
Ritz-Carlton New Orleans
LEGIT, Republic, 10pm, $7
Maison Free BBQ Grill Out, The Maison, 7pm
Miss Sophie Lee, Spotted Cat, 6pm
New Orleans Moonshiners, Spotted Cat, 10pm
Ovis, The Box Office, 10pm
Sam and Boone, Circle Bar, 6pm
Soul Rebels, Les Bon Temps Roule, 11pm
Stooges Brass Band, Hi-Ho Lounge, 9:30pm
FRIDAYS
The A-List Unplugged w/ EF Cuttin’, The
Hookah, 10pm
Brett Richardson, Spotted Cat, 4pm
Cottonmouth Kings, Spotted Cat, 9:30pm
DJ Kemistry, Metro
DJ Real and Black Pearl, Blue Nile (Upstairs),
Midnight
God’s Been Drinking, La Nuit Comedy Theater,
10pm, $10
Jeremy Davenport, The Davenport Lounge @
Ritz-Carlton New Orleans
Jim O. and The Sporadic Fanatics, Circle Bar, 6pm
Jumbo Shrimp, Spotted Cat, 6pm
Mykia Jovan and Jason Butler, Blue Nile, 8pm
Open Mic Stand-Up, La Nuit Comedy Theater,
10pm, $5
Ratty Scurvics Lounge, All-Ways Lounge
Some Like it Hot, The Maison (Downstairs), 7pm
Throwback, Republic
Tipitina’s Foundation Free Friday!, Tipitina’s, 10pm
The Way, St. Roch Tavern, 9pm
SATURDAYS
ComedySportz, La Nuit Comedy Theater (1st/3rd
Saturdays), 7pm
DJ Damion Yancy, Republic, 11pm
DJ Jive, LePhare
DJ Kemistry, Metro
DJ Real and Black Pearl, Blue Nile (Upstairs),
Midnight
The Drive In w/ DJ Pasta, R Bar
Hookah Hip-Hop w/ DJ EF Cuttin, The Hookah, 10pm
The Jazzholes, Circle Bar, 6pm
Jeremy Davenport, The Davenport Lounge @
Ritz-Carlton New Orleans
John Boutte’, d.b.a., 7pm
Ladies Night, The Hangar
The Loose Marbles, The Maison, 7pm
Luke Winslow King, Spotted Cat, 3pm
Palmetto Bug Stompers, Spotted Cat, 10pm
Panorama Jazz Band, Spotted Cat, 6pm
Washboard Chaz Blues Trio, Blue Nile, 7pm
SUNDAYS
Acoustic Open Mic w/ Jim Smith, Checkpoint
Charlie’s, 7pm
Attrition, Dragon’s Den (Upstairs), 10pm
Brass Band Sundays w/ Hot 8 Brass Band,
Howlin’ Wolf
Cajun Fais Do Do f/ Bruce Danigerpoint,
Tipitina’s, 5:30pm, $7
Drink N Draw, Circle Bar, 3pm
Ear Candy w/ DJ Rik Ducci, The Hookah, 10pm
FabuNOLA Presents Sexy Salsa Sunday, Blue
Nile, 7pm
Free Swing Dance Lessons w/ Amy Chance,
d.b.a., 4:30pm
Larry Scala and the Rhythm Jesters, The Maison, 7pm
Lil People Brass Band, Bayou Park Bar, 10pm
Loose Marbles, Spotted Cat, 6pm
Mambomundo Latin Dance Party, Banks Street
Bar & Grill, 9pm
Micah McKee and Friends, Circle Bar, 6pm
Music Workshop Series, Tipitina’s, 12:30pm
The Palmetto Bug Stompers, d.b.a., 6pm
Pat Casey, Spotted Cat, 10pm
Rights of Swing, Spotted Cat, 3pm
St. Claude Serenaders, The Maison, 4pm
The Sunday Gospel Brunch, House Of Blues
27

PHOTOS
28

PHOTOS
29

COMICS
30