 Lullaby for the Working Class |
& Sleepers” section, limited to Wednesday South by Southwest showcases
only, is just a faint rolling sound compared to next week’s pull-out section,
which will have a couple hundred more “Picks & Sleepers” covering the rest
of the conference. Take cover and stayed tuned for instructions… — Raoul Hernandez
WEDNESDAY PICKS
DIRTY DOZEN: Dropping the “Brass Band” from their name and adding a drum kit totheir arsenal after 20 years has not changed the modus operandi of this
multi-horn-powered New Orleans juggernaut. Their rhythmic onslaught covers the
entire range of Crescent City music from Louis Armstrong to free jazz. And when
they lock into a groove, you’d better have your dancin’ shoes on. (Liberty
Lunch, 8pm) — Jay Trachtenberg
KIMMIE RHODES: The Willie Nelson School of brilliant, introspective Texas
songwriting didn’t die in the Seventies; his friend Rhodes is now pursuing a
Doctorate. Check out West Texas Heaven on Justice for the best album
since The Sound in Your Mind. (Stubb’s, 9pm)
— Lee Nichols
LULLABY FOR THE WORKING CLASS: Lullaby for the Working Class’ debut Blanket
Warm is absolutely exquisite. The closest I can get you for a comparison is
the Bad Livers on codeine. The Lincoln, Nebraska band lacks the furious finger
picking of its local counterparts, though, gently strumming out its melodies on
mandolins and banjos instead, then enhancing the sound with the odd
glockenspiel and violin. (Hole in the Wall, 11pm) — Michael Bertin
THE MULLENS: A really tall, ’64 Jaggeresque frontman perched before a buncha
guys fond of the self-same Stones, New York Dolls, Stooges, and Australian punk
rock of the Birdman/Saints ilk. No, this ain’t the Sons of Hercules in
disguise, just a Dallas-based combo who prove that the Sons’ talent is immense
enough to begin inspiring like-minded combos. Rowdy roots trash punk for now
people, okay? (Flamingo Cantina, 9pm) — Tim Stegall
JASON & THE SCORCHERS: What can you say about the legendary Jason and his
Nashville Scorchers that hasn’t already been said? Arguably among the pioneers
of cowpunk, their high-energy old-school take on country rock is flamboyant and
loud — just like last year’s Clear Impetuous Morning.
(Liberty Lunch, 10pm) — Christopher Hess
TITO & TARANTULA: You can’t possibly imagine that I would recommend a band
playing against the Awards show unless it was someone I wished I had on the
bill. Enter Tito Larriva (ex-Cruzados and Plugz) and company, who oozed
straight out of hell in From Dusk Till Dawn playing appropriately
greasy, bar-smokin’ Tex-Cal-Mex rock. Damn the luck. (Steamboat, Midnight)
— Margaret Moser
FUCKEMOS ’97: For years now, the Fuckemos have delighted in being the
Austin rock scene’s own personal enema. A Fuckemos show cleans you out like a
diamond on the end of a Roto-Rooter, spraying shit all over the walls and
numbing you with pain. Snap on the rubber gloves if you must, but there’s no
escaping the power of a Fuckemos show to make you feel really dirty, really
fucked up, and really fuckin’ happy to be alive. (Flamingo Cantina,
Midnight)
–Christopher Gray
WAYNE HANCOCK: “Set the Wayback Machine, Sherman.” “Where are we going today,
Mr. Peabody?” “This trip is purely recreational, Sherman. We’re going back
about 40 or 50 years to hit a juke joint and catch one of the legends: Ernest
Tubb, Hank Sr., Jimmie Rodgers, or even Tex Ritter.” “But Mr. Peabody, we can
just catch Wayne the Train. Besides it would be much easier to go up the street
than go back in time.” “Hmmm, Yes, I suppose so, Sherman. Musically it’s the
same thing, but the beer was much cheaper in the Forties.” (La Zona Rosa,
Midnight)
— Michael Bertin
 Kathy McCarty |
Awards could be the pinnacle of Daniel Johnston’s visibility, but a far less
ephemeral (and far more graceful) gesture was Kathy McCarty’s Dead Dog’s
Eyeball, an album consisting entirely of her doing Johnston’s songs, and
one of the local highlights this decade. (Hole in the Wall, Midnight)
— Michael Bertin
BALI GIRLS: Despite the fact that their eponymous debut, on NY indie
Bittersweet, sports a trio (none of ’em “girls”), Seattle’s Bali Girls were a
duo during their last stop over at Emo’s, and one that makes alternative,
loud/soft meisters Local H sound like Sonny & Cher. Talk about calm before
the storm. The music just kept building until the explosion hit, the paint
peeled, and the whole building was raised to the ground. That’s why they’re
playing… (Flamingo Cantina, 1am) — Raoul Hernandez
ZEKE: Ripping down from the Pacific Northwest like a particularly nasty
Chinook, Zeke throws the punk-rock rulebook straight out the window with a
crudity not seen since early Mudhoney. Their tales from the hard side may
require earplugs (if you’re a wuss), but it’s a small concession when a band is
as visceral and feral as this one. (Emo’s, 1am) — Christopher Gray
LOOSE DIAMONDS: Ok, just when exactly are the Loose Diamonds gonna get
some respect? I mean, besides from The New York Times, which voted last
year’s stripped-to-the-acoustics Fresco Fiasco! one of the 10 overlooked
albums of the year. Maybe their troubadour roots music, burning with Americana
spirit, will get swept up in a certain popular movement. Maybe you should get
swept up in the Loose Diamonds. (Steamboat, 1am) — Raoul
Hernandez
WEDNESDAY SLEEPERS
MY FAVORITE MARTIAN: Buoyant punk with humor: “Me I never lie/ I’m just acasual fibber.” MFM guitarist and vocalist Al Bloch used to be the bass player
for WOOL. MFM isn’t nearly as painful, and with most songs clocking in at under
two minutes, they’re friendly to your busy schedule. (Electric Lounge, 9pm)
— Michael Bertin
GEORGE DEVORE: Since moving to Austin from Nashville last year, Devore
has been a fixture at La Zona Rosa — where regulars are really buying into
Devore’s working-class songs and Jim Carrey-meets-Bruce Springsteen stage
presence. That his band the Roam is arguably Austin’s best new backing outfit
hasn’t hurt things either. (La Zona Rosa, 9pm) — Andy Langer
HOTWHEELS JR: Even though we’ve apparently moved from a state of
`post-punk’ to one of `post-rock,’ Hot Wheels Jr.’s blinding flashes of Sonic
Youth energy are no less important. This Austin four-piece plows through
introverted, brilliant melodies, and blistering rhythm work like a bulldozer in
a dirt bike race. (Emo’s Jr., 9pm)
— Christopher Gray
 Star Hustler |
boys in the Los Angeles area. While the music on their self-titled debut
(released both on giant DGC and tiny Seattle label Scooch Pooch) is as
relentlessly sunny and alternative format-friendly as anything Wiedlin has ever
done, the lyrics carry considerable vitriol. (Emo’s, 9pm) — Ken Hunt
TERROR AT 10,000 FT: A quarter-century ago, James Brown asked the JB’s
“Can we give the bass some?” Terror responds with a resounding, “Yes” — only a
single timekeeper stands between this Austin band’s three bassists and their
monster speaker cabinets. Subtle like a great big truck and recommended for
headaches. (Copper Tank, 9pm) — Phil West
THE JUGGERNAUT JUG BAND: Jazzy, bluesy, ragtime, swing, and original
music combined in a strange concoction called jug band music. Besides the
obvious jugs, other instruments include: washboard, trumpet, cans, blues harp,
snare, walking bass, running nose flute, washtub bass, violin, guitar, and
mandolin. If that wasn’t enough, look for interesting realizations of “People
Are Strange” and “Black Dog.” (Electric Pavilion, 9pm) — David Lynch
6240: When 6240 played SXSW last year it was a watershed moment for
Ames, Iowa’s burgeoning music scene, although the band’s oddball debut, Made
in the USA, is itself a rewarding experience: a psychedelic mix of
ska-dubmetal and frontman Andy Schneider’s wonderfully obscure ramblings. A
year after the album and showcase, it’s a good bet this bizarre outfit may just
be ready for impact. (Copper Tank, 10pm)
— Andy Langer
PINETOP SEVEN: There used to be this story circulating that the reason the
Crash Test Dummies’ Brad Roberts had such a deeeep voice was because he
only had one testicle. Someone better check Darren Richard, who leads this
Chicago quintet, because he’s got the Roberts’ things down. (Electric
Pavilion, 10pm)
— Raoul Hernandez
FUMES: Onetwothreefour. Thankyouverymuch. Onetwothreefour.
Thankyouverymuch. Onetwothreefour… Being from Spokane — “Capital of the
Inland Empire” — must build up a lot of tension, since this quartet fairly
bursts with nervous energy. Their album Self-Appointed Guardians of the
Machine keeps the spirit of early-Eighties Los Angeles hardcore alive. (Emo’s, 10pm) — Ken Hunt
DITCH WITCH: Hard drivin’ guitar rock infused with a bit of small town angst.
Blissfully pissed off factory town rock replete with ringing guitars and heavy
drums, the kind of Americana that makes you proud to be drunk — er, American.
(Babe’s, 10pm) — Christopher Hess
FIL�: Dem Cajuns sho love to dance. Austin expatriate D’Jalma
Garnier’s outfit Fil� takes a few cues from Beausoleil when it comes to
expanding traditional Cajun music’s horizons with jazz, rock, and blues, yet
take a back seat to no one when they crank some bayou-fied dance floor gumbo
spicy as last year’s album La Vie Marron. (La Zona Rosa, 10pm) —
Christopher Gray
GOMEZ: The biggest KISS and Star Wars fans in Central Texas spin
around the lip of pure kitsch with a blend of East Bay pop-punk and SoCal
hardcore. At a time when you cannot, or won’t, distinguish between the sincere
item and Green Day babies, Gomez lets you know exactly which they are — with a
huge grin. (Emo’s, 11pm)
— Ken Hunt
MARY CUTRUFELLO: Seen recently adding a mustang twang and kick to Jimmie
Dale Gilmore’s band, Houston guitarist Mary Cutrufello has long been one of the
Lone Star State’s best-kept six-string secrets, kicking her raunchy rhythms in
a decidedly Keith Richards fashion rather than a Vaughan, Johnson, or Vaughan
mode. The country growl, however, is all her own. (La Zona Rosa, 11pm)
— Raoul Hernandez
WINGNUT SUPREME: Your standard twin-guitars-bass-drums combo has been
given a bizarro, minimalist twist in a manner not seen since, maybe, Some
Velvet Sidewalk. On their T.O.N. album F96, disconnected guitar figures
and mechanistic drums tread the fine line between syncopation and collision;
the singer sounds like he’s channeling a peripheral character from The
X-Files. If Devo, Big Black, and the Jesus Lizard all prefigured one thing
in rock, it’s Wingnut Supreme. (Copper Tank, 11pm) — Ken Hunt
CHLORINE: This four-piece alternative rock act is currently the buzz of Houston
— literally, with two demos getting heavy airplay on KTBZ “The Buzz.” And
their recent placement on a new Alternative Press sampler has also
helped fanned the A&R flame, with one interested A&R rep saying he
can’t really argue with the “Thin Lizzy meets the Goo Goo Dolls” comparison he
recently overheard at a sold-out showcase. (Tropical Isle, 11pm) — Andy
Langer
PARANOIDS: High-concept garage trio — “high-concept” only ‘cuz they’re as
likely to cover Flaming Lips or Daniel Johnston as they would be, say, Billy
Childish. Their own originals are as much in a Pete Townshend-“My Generation”
mode as anything else, but no one faulted Paul Weller for this at 17, did they?
(Emo’s Jr., 11pm)
— Tim Stegall
SUNSHINE: Doug Sahm’s recorded one of their songs, and they’ve recently
turned into a quartet by adding local pop veteran Johnny Goudie. Not bad for
what’s been, up to now, a little local pop trio. And while a slew of new demos
show that they’re getting a feel for the compact song, the live show also
indicates a band with not just confidence and charm, but also an impressive
flair for full harmonies and spunky hooks. (Steamboat, 11pm) — Andy
Langer
STARHUSTLER: Out in support of their marvelous new Dirt Records release,
Vapid Drivel, this Portland, Oregon band of mopers are Wilco without the
lithium. Their sad folk, made bittersweet by a lovely mulch of banjos,
mandolin,s and fiddles, weaves itself around the melancholy vocal stylings of
Jason Hatfield (of those Hatfields) and Cheri Lee Dillon, who ache with
the essence of everything Americana. (Tropical Isle, Midnight) —
Raoul Hernandez
CAROLYN WONDERLAND & THE IMPERIAL MONKEYS: Houston blues have changed a lot
since the days of Lightnin’ Hopkins, Gold Star studios, and Duke records. Now
they live in glitzy bars on strips like Richmond, and aren’t shy about adding
in the rock & roll. Wonderland is one of the crown princesses among
Houston’s blues divas, and her earthy, bar-band beltin’ plays pretty well in
Austin, too. (Stubb’s, Midnight)
— Christopher Gray
 Chris Wall |
all fair game for Paul Cebar & Co. And while Wisconsin is not known as the
hotbed of upbeat R&B, these guys, demonstrating deft handling of different
styles, do more than a respectable job with it. (Antone’s, Midnight) —
David Lynch
MISS GALAXY: If it’s power-pop you want, then there’s no better band to
throw it at you than Austin’s Miss Galaxy. Or is it sugar-punk? Melody-metal?
Whatever you wanna call it, Miss Galaxy’s got enough of it for you to pogo your
posterior off and send it skidding into the stratosphere. Just don’t call them
Miss Universe. (Emo’s Jr., Midnight) — Christopher Hess
THE ADULTS: Don’t be afraid to get a little dirt on ya. Austin’s Adults deliver
rough and muddy rock by the beer light with the occasional spate of
boogie-woogie thrown in at the most pleasantly inopportune moment. Their ’96
debut full-length, Action Street, confirms their hidden diamond status
with dark humor and brash aplomb. (Copper Tank, Midnight)
— Greg Beets
CHRIS WALL: With a 10-gallon black hat and a grin big as all outdoors,
Chris Wall is as reliable as the trains he’s fond of singing about. Poking
sharp observations into a honky-tonk dance feel, he’s finally reaching an
audience that likes to listen to lyrics as much as it likes to dance and drink
beer. Well, okay, almost as much. (La Zona Rosa, 1am)
— Christopher Gray
TAB BENOIT: Hailing from the small Gulf Coast oil town of Houma, this Bluesiana
fret burner plays a honest and direct style of Cajun influenced blues. This is
the real deal y’all so if you love the bayou blues check out Benoit. If we’re
lucky he’ll play the harp, as well. (Stubb’s, 1am) — David Lynch
ANODYNE: Vets with a fledgling project. Not the likeliest union, Anodyne is
essentially ex-Hammerbox guitarist Harris Thurmond and former That Petrol
Emotion vocalist Steve Mack. Remove the noise and you’ve got more of an
Eighties D.C. hardcore band than anything else. (Babe’s, 1am) — Michael
Bertin
SEMI GLOSS: The Telecaster twinkles and so does Verena, the
Swiss/French/Chinese chanteuse in NY’s Semi Gloss. Pure pop from an innocent
time, before those obnoxious Americans, the Bangles, ruined everything jangly
and girlie. I’m moving to Paris, where the folks are positively dainty.
(Tropical Isle, 1am)
— Raoul Hernandez
POPDEFECT: From L.A., Popdefect bring their slightly polished, fast, and
trashy pop music to Austin in hopes of securing another regular stop on their
perpetual tour pattern. They have something like a dozen records under their
belt, and their shows split time between the two distinct and jarringly odd
vocal styles of the frontmen. (Electric Lounge, 1am) — Christopher
Hess
This article appears in March 7 • 1997 and March 7 • 1997 (Cover).