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LIVE REVIEWS f§
FIVE EIGHT / DRIP
Thursday, Sept. 10
40 Watt flub
Drip had already started the sec
ond song of their loud opening set as
I walked into the club this evening.
Guitarist Andy Lemaster was clearly
warmed up both emotionally and
physically, as was drummer Clay
Leverett, who looked like he was
always about to fall out of his drum
thione. Bassist Casey Scott with his
usual three-step staggei looked
almost Entwistle-like by compai.son.
The club was half-full of folks
standing around and staring at the
stage, where Drip was jumping and
shuffling and screaming through
much of their new material off the
recent album Inside Job. Was it “Rot
Re-Decay" or “Rotten Rita Kay?"
It’s almost shocking how loud
Drip can get (especially that snare
drum). Maybe they mean to feature
volume as a tool with which to
hamme r their audience. Their riff-
heavy. start-and-stop song arrange
ments certainly benefit from such
dynamic extremes. LeMaster’s quiet
“thank you's" between songs con
trasted his emotive hollering, as
well. Energetic set.
Five-Eight climbed on stage as a
trio with new drummer Mike Rizzi
behind the red trap kit, guitarist Mike
Mantione on the left and bassist Dan
Horowitz on .he right. It looked eerily
like the band's first few shows in ‘88
— before Tigger Ferguson joined as
the long-term drummer.
There was a sense of anxiety
among some in the crowd as the
band prepared to start. Many have
recently dismissed the-band as
“washed up" and unable to bounce
back with any sort of spark or wit after
such a difficult year in which they lost
two members, their record deal and
their manager. The n2y-sayers were
wrong. Five-Eight rocked hard with a
welcome on-stage jubilance not seen
in a long, long time.
Opening with dynamic versions
of the popular standards “She's
Dropping The Bomb’ and “The Ape,"
the band took its time building up the
energy level. Instead of playing the
songs exactly like Ferguson, whose
style tended to be more bashing and
mechanical, Mike Rizzi reinterpreted
and applied new drum parts to them
with his own signature. It worked. He
was playing the songs, not just the
drum, parts
The ‘new guy” wasn't the most
surprising aspect of this show. More
importantly, the band sounded and
looked completely at ease through
their set and sounded very much
together Older songs from Gasolina
and Weirdo sounded fresh, as did the
brand new, un-released “hospital"
songs like the slow tune “Surgery,"
the pounding and ironic ‘All My
Patients” and the unusual, prog-rock
er “trilogy" with four parts. They filled
up t : songs as
a trio, despite the
absence cf sec
ond-guitarist
Sean Dunn —
an absence that
may have actual
ly allowed moie
effective and
subtle dynamic
opportunities for
the band. Mike
jumped around
like the madman
of yore while
Dan joked about
upstate New York
accents, his.
dog's puke and
other strange
topics.
Five-Eight
played nearly two
hours, including
the encore. It was
as energetic, as funny and as edgy as
any of their best gigs in the eariy days.
Maybe filing on one's ass and com
ing full circle ain't such a band thing
after all.
Ballard Lesemann
BIG ASS TRUCK
Thursday, Sept. 17
High Hat Chib
Big Ass Truck, the five-piece
white-boy funk-rock outfit from
Memphis, Tenn., returned to Athens
this evening for an inspired two-set
show. They had previously played in
Athens at the High Hat back in April
on the night of the enormous
Widespread Panic concert. That gig
was good. Tonight’s gig was superb.
There’s nothing worse than a run-
of-the-mill funk band who can’t play
with genuine enthusiasm or tech
nique. The genre has been abused
and exploited plenty throughout this
decade. Usually, the worst culprits
tend to be white rock musicians hop
ing to cash in (watch MTV or listen to
commercial ‘new rock" radio for any
dozen or so examples).
Big Ass Truck were not faking it
on stage this evening. They somehow
found a way to balance their tenden
cies to jam out with lengthy funk
grooves and actually played well-
arranged lyrical songs with real ener
gy. The songs were well-sung by gui
tarists Steve Selvidge (is that the guy
from BASEketbaliP) and Robb) Grant
(is that the guy from Fastball?). The
rhythm section was tight and good-
natured vbassist John Stubblefield
made the only mistakes audible to the
crowd and quickly laughed them off).
Many folks wondered why Big
Ass Truck’s drums were situated in
front of the band facing backwards.
I’m not sure whether drummer Robert
Barnett suffers from severe stage
fright or simply prefers to look his
bandmates right in the eye — either
way, it's cool to see a good drummer
from a behind-the scenes point of
view. He and turntable DJ/percus-
sionist Colin Butler stole the show
and made their random stops-and-
starts, tambourine overlaps and cow
bell duels look easy.
It wasn't all just authentic funk
and soul pouring through the speak
ers either: Big Ass Truck seemed
equally ready to toss bits and pieces
of Bowie, Rush. Floyd and even Hall
And Oates (whether they realized it or
not) into their riffs and progressions.
It was weird, amusing and infectious.
Even skeptics of the new funk
would've been impressed.
Ballard Lesemann
OLIVIA TREMOR CONTROL
BLACK SWAN NETWORK
Friday, Sepl. 18
Hw Athens Brewing Co.
A “dream-machine:" Brion
Gysin's potentially trance-inducing
creation, consisting of a perforated
cylinder mounted on a revolving
disc, was already set up and a*, the
front of the Athens Brewing
Company's stage on this auspicious
Friday evening when yours truly
walked in and ordered a cold one.
The sound started welling up soon
afterward — it had to have been the
workings of the Black Swan Network,
Olivia Tremor Control’s ambient and
free-form alter-ego. Several members
were noodling around on stage creat
ing an electric/ electronic drone that,
even over the din of the babbling,
socializing crowd, was rather relax
ing, especially in combination with
the dream-machine.
Also, at the base of the stage, was
a microphone setup with a sign on it
indicating for anybody to come up
and recite a dream that they might
have had. This apparently was run
ning through some effects because I
couldn’t make out what those few who
came forth said.
An aside: standing near the front,
a buddy and I encountered a fellow
who wanted to know when Olivia
Tremor Control was playing because
the music at the time “sucked.' I pro
ceeded to emphatically disagree with
him, notifying him that Olivia would
be up shortly. Grumbling, the single-
minded “dude" wandered off; did he
realize that BSN and OTC were one
and the same? Do I care? The bril
liance of the fact that the poppy and
tight Olivia were the same people as
Black Swan might have escaped him.
Anyway, soon enough, the Olivia
Tremor Control hit the stage with their
peculiar brand of psychedelic bubble
gum pop. I was particularly
impressed by their tightness. This is a
very professional act; it comes as no
surprise that they have crested to
international notoriety within the last
few years. Personally, I could stand to
hear some of their songs veer off into
a more dangerous and rocking
sound. But what these guys do works
and is unique enough to draw an
enormous amount of interest. Another
affirmation of musical excellence from
some true originals.
S.D. Fitzpatrick
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