SHARKFORUM: OPINION WITH TEETH

We hit the party just in time to catch a set by Steve Wynn and band. It was a great band playing a great set. Just the way you like to start the day. Had a couple of friends on the bill, so this seemed like the gig to hang at for a while. It was great to see Willie Nile there. Just 9 months earlier I was trying to put together a three headliner solo tour with my friend Ivan Julian of the Voivoids fame among numerous other outfits.(Shreikback, Mathew Sweet...) The idea of this was largely based on the fact that I own a van.

As good a reason as any. Ivan new Willie and we both thought he would be the the perfect 3rd wheel. Willie'd come up in the early 80's under the dreaded "New Dylan" marquee the major labels used to employ as what they thought was a good marketing technique. It turned you into a human dart board. Both he and Steve Forbert suffered dearly for this bit of "Eighth Wonder of The World!" propaganda campaign. He'd been doing great work since the bullshit parade had ended, but as anyone who's been on a major label knows, it's very hard to revive a career once the big boys have signed your death certificate. But his latest release, "The Streets of New York" is getting more attention than an octuplet birth announcement and has put him back on the radar screen. He sounds great. Good to see somebody beat the odds every once in a while. Nice man.

Mathew Sweet was now performing a duo show with Susanna Hoffs. Matthew's an old friend and another non-stop song writer with a studio in his backyard. They'd just finished an album together of cover songs from the 60's largely featuring Susanna on lead vocals entitled "Under The Covers Vol. 1" and were taking it around the block before a SXSW show at the Drake that evening. He'll be finishing off his latest record when he gets home. A lifer.

Now it was time to eat. Real Food! Alejandro and Kim took us to a great Indian restaurant. But this is Texas. Probably the only time you'll find 80% percent of the cuisine on an Indian menu made up of steak. Hindu cowboys rustled up some grub for us.

While we were there, got a call from Charlie Sexton saying he dug the new album and wondered if I wanted him to back me up at my Continental appearance the next night. I told him to fuck-off and get his own band, at which, point he burst into tears and began pleading with me until I finally gave in and let him back me up for a couple numbers. If you believe this... I should also mention that in China, I am a huge pop star! I was thrilled and flattered of course. Took the sting off the cancelled days gig.

That night, with my manager Heinz, we hit the center of the action: 6th Street. During SXSW this area resembles N.O.'s quarter on a busy almost Mardi Gras type of scene, only without the mojo and also the victim and prey thing you watch in action when the night gets especially late and the rubes are to drunk to realize they're about to be rolled. Austin has a safer vibe to it. Less of the beyond poverty down on your luck vibe you find in a lot of the South. It's here too, but not as desperate.

Anyway, the mission of the evening was to catch a rare set from the Brooklyn 70's master of modern, gritty soul music: Garland Jeffries. We entered a fairly large club and caught a pretty good Austin band with a more than a pretty good drummer behind the tubs. The group was named after it's leader: Guy Forsythe. I told Alejandro I saw and liked them the next day and he said, "Ah, he's a God damn actor!"

All musicians hate actors who become musicians. It pisses us off. We just don't like the idea of somebody acting up there. Anyway, he played to good to have learned the instrument for a role, so I cut him a break. the drummers last name was Hooper, I believe.

Then came Garland. Kicking ass...taking no prisoners, with a vibe to him that made you feel like taking chances. You could feel him all through the room, like some giant love magnet. Great set. The payoff was that Heinz told me he was going to sit in with Alejandro at tomorrow nights gig. Even better! At this point, both The Shark and I were beginning to feel a little over easy for the evening and drove back to our hotel room and Dr. Wal-mart for a nightcap.

Le Shark:
Well you've pretty much covered it Nick, The Shark was happy again with his food source restored, Charlie Sexton -what a great guy -so unpretentious, and such a terrific guitarist - I was eagerly anticipating closing night at the Continental -speaking of which -the Ed "Big Daddy" Roth show upstairs at the club really is something- the whole muscle car Rat Fink thing The Shark can relate to....it doesn't hurt that the work is all so well designed and illustrated, that it has content and context which are discernible without the prerequisite hence ubiquitous wall plaques so much contemporary art now leans on in attempting an epistomology..it would be nice to see this show come to Chicago -perhaps the MCA -I don't see why not.

as for actors.......well of course they are the least of all artists -as they never play themselves -and if they did, who would want to watch it? -which is probably why bio-pics -of, say painters for instance usually fail -actors can't play brilliance brilliantly because they aren't -which is not to say they can't play lesser roles with brilliance...but ....did you see Pollock?.......what a tepid and grating piece of taxidermy that was.......simply put, there isn't a guppy that's been born that can convincingly play Carcharodon Carcharias......but put them on a stage and then just try and get them off of it...its always interesting how so much emptiness can one actor at a time, be the center of the universe............or perhaps I'm still bitter about the Jaws films where when they had the real thing, they chose to go with a rubber dummy.........if I didn'tknow better I would have thought it was an actor directing that thing........

DAY 3 SXSW

Nicholas Tremulis:
The last day of SXSW is on Sunday and is also my favorite day of the festival. Most of the people who attend the conference usually hit the road or air on this day to head back to their music type jobs in some other town, country... whatever. Those who know better stick around for the final gig at the Continental Club Alejandro throws for some charity organization or friend. (The first year, we did it; it was to help the then ill drummer Frosty)

There's a saying about this gig in Austin: "It ain't over until the little Mexican sings."

The gig is part final throw down and part sigh of relief for the performing musicians and certainly the Austin community. Every year they are invaded by hundreds of thousands of music industry types and now more and more, spring breakers and music devotees whose idea of seeing 150 or so bands in 5 days is the perfect vacation. This is why playing SXSW is such a superior experience to playing any of the other music biz festivals around the country. It's somehow devoid of the tiresome attitude that drags all other music conferences down. Those of you in bands out there who've played a showcase at say, the Mercury Lounge in NYC knows what I'm talking about. It's like performing at a Thorazine assisted halfway house. Everyone's busy trying to hide from your manager while finding a good dark corner from which to vanish from. Just enough show to say they were there. Odds are no one's going to stick their neck out and toss a contract on the stage either.

It's like taking your sister to the prom. You're not going to score. (This analogy may not be as clear to those of you residing in some parts of Tennessee or perhaps a castle in London.)

Anyway, the gig, as always went great. Charlie Sexton played my songs like he grew up next to me all my life, not to mention handing my guitar down to an insistent Garland Jeffries, "A set like that deserves a man to hand his guitar to when he leaves the stage." The other bands were all as diverse as ever and mesmerizing, particularly the great Liverpudlian, Peter Wylie, (Remember Wha?) John Langford and Sally Timms, (Perhaps you've heard of them.) Word Association, (A great rap group.) Grady (Austin's nitro-fueled power trio.) and maybe the best set I've ever heard Alejandro and band perform, as well a chance to jump on stage and join them backing Jeffries for his beautiful song, "35mm Dreams." The perfect ending to a perfect trip.

The next day the Shark and I headed for home. The weather seemed gentle for most of the morning across Texas. Then, somewhere in Oklahoma, the sky began to change. I'll leave the rest for "fish boy" to dream up.

Le Shark:
Today was the day The Shark swam out to Alejandro's compound say, 20 miles outside of town -we visited with the chickens and chiwawas, hung out on the porch overlooking a dried out creek -not a rivlet of water anywhere, walked around a peyote circle and headed back....I remembered thirty years ago racing out of Austin on a Yamaha 500 looking for psilocybin mushrooms to eat -and then, trying to relocate Austin on some warm summer night....

The Shark was afraid no one could follow the ZZ Top -on steroids, sonic (and completely fun) onslaught that is 'Grady'....but Mr. Tremulis aided and abetted by Charlie Sextons beautiful steel dobro playing handled the situation with mastery and ease........Alejandro Escovedo's Orchestra is simply one of the finest bands playing today - as noted here on Sharkforum previously, they will be performing in the next while here in Chicago -we will make note of these performances do not miss these upcoming dates. Here is a band is employing string arrangements/dissonance, and some really hard rock, led by a great songwriter -and I don't use that word lightly, with stellar musicianship in all quarters - exploring areas that bands like Wilco have also attempted to plumb; what I am liking about this group is the sheer variety of approaches - all hinging upon what is being expressed, and, with an emotional clarity that seems paramount to Alejandro's vision -just engaging to watch how they are exploring this musical terrain/ a synedoche of complex conceits, attitudes/ how this is all being arranged and executed - with a sense of ease and abandon, that was readily apparent at The Continental. Exciting stuff; much excellence.

The Killer Tornado that had you, Nicky-poo, reduced to a mound of quivering nicotine stained jello, sunken in a puddle of tears, whimpering to your maker? That is until The Unflappable Great Shark saved the day and told you to in no uncertain terms, calm down? Is that the 'change of weather' you are referring to?



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All images © Todd V. Wolfson 2006