In my other life, I am perpetually late, but not when it comes to going to see live music. So Wednesday night, sitting at the Pink Pony listening to the Clash on the jukebox and savoring my last taste of creme brulee, I was finished stalling. So I ventured around the corner to the Mercury Lounge for Langhorne Slim’s sold-out show. Defiantly too early!
One benefit, I watched the arrival of a slew of important people on a guest list to see the band J. Roddy Watson and the Business. All saying, “I’m on the List.” The back room was filled with about thirty people. The young man on the piano, with his support players on guitar, bass, and drums, was about to give the show of a lifetime, regardless of the statuesque audience. I’ve been to only one other “tryout,” and they are a bit awkward.
J. Roddy, with curly long locks, has a great voice and magnetic delivery of southern rip-roaring rock and roll. I’ve never seen anyone literally hump a piano. I wasn’t sure if the piano stool would slip under him or if the piano would slide across the stage from all the pounding and movement. Leon Russell on meth comes to mind! It was uproariously loud and resurrected the sound of classic rockn’ roll in the highest order. Dated, who cares. Oh soo good!
WOXY Session
I was there to socialize and see Langhorne Slim but decided to make a commitment to see Hoots and Hellmouth’s very enjoyable set. The trio of Sean (guitar), Andrew (Mandolin), and Rob (guitar) with the addition of stand-up bass and Bob Beach, a fierce harmonica player.
The set up of two wooden platforms in lieu of percussion offered a muffled stomp beat that worked nicely with the acoustic instruments. Authenticity abounds. Their instruments resonated while the gospelesque roots rock, soulful vocals, and rich harmonies rose to create a surround-sound effect. Hoots and Hellmouth's unpredictable styling provide a marvelous listening juxtaposition with acoustics that are both soft and furious. And when they come on strong, their flowing hair head-bangs to the rhythm, building a joyful experience to watch and hear!
Flickr Set
Langhorne Slim and the War Eagles
The lounge was packed for Langhorne Slim and the War Eagles with friends, fans, and those that helped along the way. The long-awaited release had finally arrived. We were all there, including five pals from Bermuda who flew in for the night to wish them well on their first headlining tour across the US.
The set began with Langhorne saying, “I promised myself I wouldn't cry.” This show was a tender affair with guitar tuning incidents and some sweet slim banter. The crowd ate it up and smiled, sweated, danced, sang along, clapped, and stomped to the love fest sendoff.
They worked the crowd up and slowed things down. When Langhorne sang Hummingbird unaccompanied, the crowd enjoyed silence with each heartfelt word. “We Love The Animals” was quite a rollicking affair. I had only heard the acoustic version recently uploaded by Crackerfarm on YouTube. The long set left the audience in a sweaty, smiling frenzy and slim invited some of the audience to join them on stage for a grand finale.
As the War Eagles left the stage, the last song of the night, “Rebel Side of Heaven,” was a bait and switch that worked its magic on the crowd, and was delivered with Slim, guitar in hand, and no mic. During the instrumental, he shyly smiled and said, “here’s my solo, guys.” And then, without the usual soulful swagger, he wittily and sweetly sang the closing line. / We ain’t going to hell / well we’re going to the rebel side of heaven /.
And heaven it was, maybe Slim didn’t cry, but many had tears of joy, including me. A night to savor!
The lounge was packed for Langhorne Slim and the War Eagles with friends, fans, and those that helped along the way. The long-awaited release had finally arrived. We were all there, including five pals from Bermuda who flew in for the night to wish them well on their first headlining tour across the US.
The set began with Langhorne saying, “I promised myself I wouldn't cry.” This show was a tender affair with guitar tuning incidents and some sweet slim banter. The crowd ate it up and smiled, sweated, danced, sang along, clapped, and stomped to the love fest sendoff.
They worked the crowd up and slowed things down. When Langhorne sang Hummingbird unaccompanied, the crowd enjoyed silence with each heartfelt word. “We Love The Animals” was quite a rollicking affair. I had only heard the acoustic version recently uploaded by Crackerfarm on YouTube. The long set left the audience in a sweaty, smiling frenzy and slim invited some of the audience to join them on stage for a grand finale.
As the War Eagles left the stage, the last song of the night, “Rebel Side of Heaven,” was a bait and switch that worked its magic on the crowd, and was delivered with Slim, guitar in hand, and no mic. During the instrumental, he shyly smiled and said, “here’s my solo, guys.” And then, without the usual soulful swagger, he wittily and sweetly sang the closing line. / We ain’t going to hell / well we’re going to the rebel side of heaven /.
And heaven it was, maybe Slim didn’t cry, but many had tears of joy, including me. A night to savor!
Flickr Set
Slim singing "Hummingbird" @ The Mercury Lounge
"Rebel Side of Heaven," directed by Crackerfarm
My review of Self Titled