(This is a guest post by the distinguished Dan "Curly" Talton, of Little Timmy McFarland of Flight 19. He hails from the mighty nation of Texas and is, believe it or not, afraid of cows. You can download his album for free when you visit his site!)
When I speak of the sweet city of Beaumont, nestled in the scenic industrial landscape of Southeast Texas, you might think of the World’s Biggest Fire Hydrant; an army of fat people, gathering like locusts awaiting the End Times; or perhaps restrooms that are belligerently clean. But when I think of Beaumont, I think of good ol’ fashioned rock and roll. On the relatively clear night of Tuesday, May 19, (the day before my birthday! whee!) Kevin and I set out on a magical quest to find what can only be called “Sum Funs.” Our journey took us through the heart of the Fire Kingdom, past vicious tangerines, adorable mutant poodles, and, finally, to the den of some totally rad wolves. More about that later.
Our first stop was the Art Studio Inc. The Art Studio is a volunteer run art gallery / music venue.
They are always friendly to artists and bands of all kinds, from “seasoned vets” to first-time high school bands. Best of all, they serve food! For FREE! How cool is that?? We were treated to some tasty toast creations, travellin’ from wheat to white and back again until our little Texas tummies were satisfied.
The first artist of the night was Sinuendo, a trancy electronic project of one very bearded musician. Rather than utilize the standard, look-at-me-look-at-you performer/audience set-up, Sinuendo set up chairs facing a far wall, where he had set up a large projector screen, which played a weird 1980’s, VCR looking “Self-Hypnosis Tape.” I thought this set-up worked really well with Sinunendo’s tunes. While some tunes were more typical electro-dance stuff, most of Sinuendo’s music seemed to be more ambient: a series of loops that would shift in and out of focus, musically and rhythmically, with one another. By taking himself out of the performance visually, Sinuendo was able to convincingly create the illusion that these loops were self-perpetuating. Rather than being an instrument controlled by the artist, the listener felt like the sounds had a space and life of their own, an illusion cemented by the fact that the sounds were not necessarily engineered to make a “cohesive musical statement.” Though they did “work together,” the sounds existed mostly of their own accord, tumbling in and out of weird harmonies and rhythms seemingly at random. To use a cliché, they were more “landscapes” than songs.
One my favorite parts about going to the Art Studio is that it is basically a warehouse. The performance area is a stage in a large, unfurnished room complete with a tall ceiling, and concrete walls and floors running parallel to each other – a surefire recepie for cacophony. With nothing to absorb the soundwaves, the waves just pingpong off the walls in all directions. A room like this will take the gentlest of singer-songwriters and turn it into a huge, soupy mess! This worked very well for Sinuendo, causing the droning bass and bleepy melodies to take on a sort of physical presence as well, vibrating up and down the listeners’ bodies in time with the music.
The next artist we saw was Octopoodle, or as they are sometimes known…
Octopoodle is two of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet: Poodle-Hair Jake and the guitar player, who, for some weird reason, still remains nameless to me. I’ve always called him Meedly Guy because he plays guitar very well, which sometimes takes the form of squeedlies and beedlies, but often consists of meedlies. That is not to sell him short! Both Poodle-Hair and Meedly guy are absolutely fantastic musicians, technically and artistically. They’ve been playing together in various bands for years now, the most well-known, I suppose, being Hello Chief, and are superbly tight. This time around, they’re calling themselves Octopoodle and have stripped down the number of members, and the number of tools. Don’t think that means they’ll be playing nicer or quieter! Meedly Guy runs his guitar through a guitar cab as well as an Ampeg bass amplifier and Jake knows how to hit the drums very, very hard. Early on, it because obvious to me that these guys are masters of their instruments. There were few lyrics sung and few lyrics needed, Meedly Guy’s sometimes mangled, sometimes chiming synthesizer-esque guitar parts, and Jake’s skittering snare and playful rhythmic presence did all the talking anyone wanted. What impressed me most was the group’s versatility. Octopoodle jumped from fun, almost goofy guitarmonies and syncopation (a la Battles) to totally chaotic punk rock freakouts (a la Lightning Bolt) several times per song, using only a few loops, three or four guitar pedals, a kick drum, a snare, a hi-hat, a ride cymbal, and a cowbell (A COWBELL!!!). Octopoodle was my favorite kind of band: a band that does a whole lot without using a whole lot.
After watching Octopoodle, Kev-kev and I left the Art Studio for Tequila Rok [sic], a local nightclub. Not too much special about the Rok, just standard nightclub stuff: there’s the booze, there’s the potty, there’s the stage. The first group was Knights of the Fire Kingdom, a gruff hard rock band performing for the first time. I didn’t pay too much attention as I was still recovering from Octopoodle’s very, very loud guitars. But what I did tune into was some fun, Dave Grohl-y rock and roll!
After Knights of the Fire Kingdom came We Were Wolves, the band I had been most excited about seeing. I had heard their last record and thought it was pretty swell. It was meat and potatoes rock and roll sleaze, and I love sleazy. I had also learned recently that they were in the process of recording a new album, which excited me more. Here’s a video of their new single. Bands in the process of recording tend to be well rehearsed. To make matters even more exciting, I found out the show at Tequila Rok was going to be recorded for a live record. Bands recording live records tend to be very well rehearsed. Here’s the bass player, looking very well rehearsed.
I didn’t take very many pictures during the show, because I wasn’t very interested in taking pictures. I was only interested in listening. The band was pretty great on record, but absolutely killer live. We Were Wolves was loud, raucous, sleazy, fast, ugly, harsh, and everything else I’ve ever loved about rock and roll. The whole show was one long smear of sound, punctuated shotgun snare hits and lyrics only intelligible enough to catch a few, wonderfully profane words. If you wanted to learn the lyrics, though, all you had to do was listen to the crowd, who knew every word to every song. Every now and then, guitar solos, dripping with fuzz and fat as a Beaumont native, would sound off, barely rising above the wash of guitar and cymbal, like a beautiful blue dolphin surfacing for air above a turbulent sea. If I’m speaking in stupid metaphors or similes, it’s only because I don’t actually remember what happened very well. Like when you get your first kiss, or get in your first car crash, you’re not thinking much besides, “Oh God, oh geez, oh wow, oh man….” It was rock and roll transcendence in all its disgusting glory, and I liked it.
So remember, the next time you’re somewhere besides Beaumont, Texas, don’t forget to curse your bad luck.
Some other great Beaumont bands:
Cussins: Schizoid “polite punk” three-piece (video)
Jenny and the Reincarnation: Soulful blues-punk, striking in its simplicity
Gonzo Sirens: Swamp rock that's given my friends and I reason to hit each other at shows for years.
Plus More: Goofy pop-punk. Swell music for swell times.
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