 |
the modern day
Hoot Night may be a direct descendent of the old-time hootenanny, would-be hoot
organizers should stand warned of one aspect wherein the two are practically
polar opposites. Where the hootenanny was largely an offhand, sometimes
spontaneous collection of singers and songs, today’s Hoot Nights are all about
planning, without which an evening can easily turn into unmitigated disaster.
An unplanned/unmoderated Hoot can result in a dozen bands all boring the
audience by playing the same damn song; hold a Jethro Tull Hoot without strict
supervision and you’ll end up with several ear-splitting hours worth of
“Aqualung.” Also, as I found out upon hosting my one and only hoot night, when
things run late and bands get bumped, tempers tend to flare really high.
My hoot was hosted by my Not Daniel Johnston persona, and is remembered
variously as “Not Austin Music Night,” “Austin Does Austin,” and “Incest
Night,” and I assembled it with care and pride. There were numerous high
points, from the sparkling Randy “Biscuit” Turner, resplendent in full Roman
centurion garb, proclaiming the lyrics to the Pocket FishRmen’s “Amy Carter”
off a papyrus scroll to the majestic “Mike Hall sings Ed Hall” segment, where
the lines “The Armadillo, Raul’s/In those days there were no fools” proved to
be perfectly suited to the sound of Hall’s hearty acoustic folk-rock. What
there wasn’t, though, was enough time to accommodate all the acts that had
dedicated themselves to the night as eagerly as I had.
Thus, I nearly ended up getting decked by a furious hooter who didn’t get his
turn when Brad First declared the night over around 2:15am. That moment,
however, paled in comparison to the roomwide hatred aimed at Javelin Boot that
night. After their own reasonably brief set, consisting of Rank & File’s
eponymous theme song and the True Believers/Reivers mishmash “Freight Train
Rain Won’t Help You When It’s Over,” the band remained onstage to back up Wammo
for an incredibly complex — and incredibly long — Daniel Johnston/Butthole
Surfers medley.
 |
lyrics from one of Johnston’s songs with the music of one of the Buttholes’ and
vice versa, the other waiting acts saw only what appeared to be a band that had
already had their time being joined by a guest vocalist and continuing to play.
Not only were most of them furious, they stayed furious, and it took a long
while before the Boot shook the resulting stigma of being a band who didn’t
know when they’d worn out their welcome.
Javelin Boot also found out the hard way what curses can befall those who are
too good at a Hoot Night. A full-blown performance of Queen’s “Bohemian
Rhapsody” at a “Seventies Night” at the old Texas Tavern back around a decade
ago “is still the highlight of our 18-year career — unfortunately,” sighs Dan
O’Neill. “People’s jaws were dropping — this was before Wayne’s World,
remember — and they were all saying `They’re not really gonna do it!'”
But do it they did, in its entirety. After the feat, with current Buick
MacKane member Dave Fairchild providing the fourth harmony, one ravenous Queen
fan gushed to the band that “Man, even Queen didn’t do the opera part live!”
Hunter Darby offers this one sentence warning to Hoot Night organizers: “If you
don’t want to be blown off the stage, don’t invite Javelin Boot.”
There’s more than one way to get blown off the stage at a Hoot Night, however,
as veteran Alejandro Escovedo tells it: “There was a Neil Young Hoot and I was
playing pool upstairs at the Cannibal Club, and I was winning a lot of games.
Every time I won a game, I’d get a couple shots of Maker’s Mark or whatever. I
kept trying to go downstairs, thinking I was pacing myself — not knowing I was
getting totally shit-faced drunk. I could barely make it down the stairs when
my name was called. I got up and I was totally out of tune and just fed back
the whole time through the two songs — I think. Then I fell off the
stage. I think I got carried off to the emergency room somewhere. I didn’t get
invited back to too many Hoot Nights.”
 |
Chances; use undependable props. Unsatisfied by simply performing “True Blue”
with vocalist Kasey Jo Smith tied to a chair (in honor of a similar act
allegedly perpetrated upon Ms. Ciccone by Sean Penn), the band brought out a
rollaway bed for “Like a Virgin” to simulate the writhing scene from that
song’s video. “As we picked up speed,” recalls drummer Terri Lord, “Kasey
started jumping up and down on the bed and it folded up on her.” The resultant
collapse started a domino effect that knocked over several guitars belonging to
other bands waiting to play.
Of course, the unexpected isn’t necessarily a bad thing. After the Cannibal
Club’s Hoots had fallen into a clique mentality — with the same bands playing
week after week — the notion that then-Back Room denizens Pariah had been
“allowed” to play the Sex Pistols vs. Clash Night was met with much derision.
In the end, notes Darby, “They ended up doing the best Pistols,” elevating the
show over what had become something of a rote event. When Darby’s own band the
Wannabes decided it was time to make a statement about the dead end Hoots were
headed down, however, the response was less than enthusiastic. The ‘bes showed
up at a Beatles Hoot and, feigning innocence, launched into “Rockin’ in the
Free World,” the current hit by well-known non-Beatle Neil Young. “That didn’t
go over too well,” Darby recalls in something of an understatement.
 |
good Hoot Night. Witness last Sunday, when Paul Minor put on a Rolling Stones’
“Rock and Roll Circus” tribute at the Hole in the Wall (see “Live Shots”). With
only one actual invited band (the ARC Welders) performing amid a night of
mostly rotating members of regular Sunday night Free-for-All attendees, Minor
admits that the show was “more of a jam, really,” and it may have been exempt
from the attendant problems that have befallen many a true Hoot.
Still, with iced-over roads and shivery climes that had closed down most of
the city’s businesses, nobody expected much of a crowd. Instead, the warm
insides of the Hole were filled with a just-short-of-uncomfortable sea of
toasty, happy people, grooving along to the tunes of the Stones in an evening
that probably reached its peak with a rousing “Jumping Jack Flash” featuring
members of Sincola, the Superego, Fastball, and the Gourds. One and all learned
a valuable life lesson that night: When the rains and snows come, and all
around is darkness and frozen waste, sometimes the only way to keep your head
above water is to give a Hoot.
This article appears in January 17 • 1997 and January 17 • 1997 (Cover).