This was supposed to by my week of rock and roll heaven. Ministry’s farewell tour one night followed by Clutch the next. Unfortunately, much like my first few efforts at the wild thang it ended up becoming a frustrating disappointment that left me wondering if the lost sleep was really even worth it. Let’s start with Ministry shall we…

Had this just been another Ministry tour coming through town I would have been a little disappointed in the show but I would have been over it by the time I could walk the 6 blocks home but it wasn’t. This was it. The C U LaTour. The big finale. To quote their own fucking press release: The show will consist of a 2 1/2 hour set featuring not only tracks from their 28 years, but also archival Ministry video footage. Featuring not only tracks from their 28 years…

My beef with the Ministry show wasn’t the show itself…matter a fact, if your knowledge of Ministry began with Psalm 69 then you probably loved the show. My beef is what was absent from the show. No Stigmata? Are you kidding me? Where the fuck was So What?

See, there’s my beef. Pure song selection. Hell, I wasn’t wanting Everyday is Halloween but Supernaut would have been nice. So, as Al and his merry band left the stage I looked to my friend and our eyes were both saying the same thing…Are you kidding me? The better not be it…but it, it was and I left feeling like I had been given a big fuck you from Al and Co.

Clutch was to be my saviour from the disappointment the night before. Wash off the disappointment. My brother shows up at the house and we prime up with a few whiskey drinks before walking up to the show. As we approach the show I’m noticing an abnormal amount of people walking away from the show. I didn’t think to much about it until I noticed a big hand written sign in front of the doors and another taped to the door which, and I’m paraphrasing here, read: Due to Neil having throat problems Clutch will be performing as The Bakerton Group. For those that don’t know, The Bakerton Group is the bluesy jam band Clutch side project. Decidedly not Clutch. The disappointment would not be cleansed tonight.

Since I had gotten a free ticket I went ahead and went in to at least see what The Bakerton Group was all about. I made it for 3 songs. I am not a jam band kinda guy and just could not get into it. I don’t blame Clutch at all…people get sick…but on this particular evening it was a massive bummer.

In an effort to shed all this nastiness I am posting a few of the songs I wish I would have heard of this intended week of rock and roll heaven:

Ministry - Stigmata
Ministry - So What
Ministry - Supernaut
Ministry - Jesus Built My Hotrod (Al could have sung it for the final tour)

Clutch - Cypress Grove
Clutch - Mob Goes Wild
Clutch - Regulator

Joe Buck brought his one man band into Dave’s last week for a night of evil songs sung by an evil motherfucker from Tennessee. In return, the Bay Area hellbilly and Hank III fans made a respectable showing.

Opening the show was a local band I really wanted to catch after listening to their myspace offerings, Tailgunner Joe and the Earls of Slander. These guys approach a live show the way I would if I were in a band…take your recorded material, increase the intensity two-fold, and rock the fuck out. Guitars were louder, lyrics previously sung were yelled, and the rock stance was a little wider. The crowd seemed to genuinely like these kids and I hope they make an effort to play on the St. Pete side of the water a little more often.

Up next was Joe.

Now, I’m gonna be honest. I’m not really a fan of Joe’s recorded material. I just can’t get past the muddy production and the songs really aren’t that interesting to me. That said, what fails to captivate on cd flourishes in a live setting. Turns out, Joe writes the kind of music you need to be in the same room with. Joe, hunched over a guitar, red uplight casting eerie shadows, his hyperactive left leg smashing out a back-beat on an old bass drum while he recites lyrics of murder and satan through gritted teeth. I started wishing I had listened to his cds more so I could join the crowd in singing along.

Halfway through Joe’s set he was joined on stage by one Mr. Shean Doe from Throwrag for about 4 songs. I really enjoyed their set together, but as a testament to what Joe was doing, I really just wanted Shean to finish up so Joe could get back to his business. By the end of the night Joe had made a believer out of me. If he comes to your town you should give him a shot, regardless of what you think of his cds. He might make a believer out of you too. And don’t be fooled by the mohawk, evil faces, and evil lyrics, the man himself is as nice as they come.

Joe Buck - Took Up With The Devil
Joe Buck - Dig A Hole
Joe Buck - Devil Is On His Way

I gotta say, I got the best pictures I’ve ever gotten at a concert on this night. You can check them out here.

Normally, I’ll walk into a show and know one person there if I am lucky. Walking into the Orpheum, I was amazed to see groups of people I knew, he bulk of whom, like myself, had come to finally catch a glimpse of the Appalachian Apocalypse from New York that is O’death.

Over the past year I have read many an O’Death review raving about the ferocity of their live show. As result, I think I had romanticized the possibilities to the point where I was expecting sparks to shoot out of their asses and the devil to be playing fiddle. Neither case played out, instead the band opened up a little on the reserved side after a particularly miserable Miami crowd the night before. However, but by the end of their set shirts were missing and requests were being played. One thing is for sure, after seeing the passion these kids put into their music, any questions I had about the authenticity of a group of 20-something New Yorkers playing Appalachian folk songs were put to rest.

Drummer David Rogers-Berry lived up to his advance billing; screaming, howling, beating trash cans with chains, hyping the crowd, and just generally beating his floor toms so hard you could almost see them wince in agony. Adding to the drum-abusive energy was fiddle player Bob Pycior stomping and dancing about while trying his damndest to saw his instrument in half. Much like Berry, he plays with such an intensity that you get the impression he is punishing his instrument more than playing it. Balancing out these two was Gabe Darling’s banjo and ukulele and Greg Jamie’s guitar and sometimes woeful, always captivating vocals, which help give the band it’s dark sound. By the end of the show the band had loosened up and began interacting with the crowd, and by the end of their 30 minutes the crowd managed to goad them into playing one more song before packing up. I left as O’Death packed up figuring I had seen the best this particular night had to offer, and having finally caught the band live, I’ve come away knowing two things:

1. Believe the hype.
2. Thirty minutes just wasn’t enough time.

Come back to Florida, O’Death. Fuck Miami.

O’Death - Down to Rest
O’Death - Only Daughter
O’Death - Nathaniel

I managed to actually remember my camera and actually managed to get some pretty good pictures. You can see them here if you’re interested.

O’death’s Official Site, O’Death on Myspace, Buy Head Home

Just to set the scene.

Some Irish-ish, Flogging Molly-ish band from Japan hits the stage first and Flogging Molly are third. Sandwiched between this was Rev. Peyton armed with his acoustic guitars, Washboard Breezy with her washboard, and Jayme Peyton on the drums, bringing their back porch brand of rocking blues. I walked into the show midway through the first opening act and the place was packed with kids dressed in green and pumping their fists to Japanese Irish fight songs and I began to worry for the good Reverend and his merry band. There was no way in hell this crowd was gonna wanna hear blues music. Not tonight. So, I began talking to the people around me in between acts. The typical conversation went like this:

“You looking forward to the next band, Reverend Peyton and His Big Damn Band?”
“Who are they?”
“An awesome three piece blues band from Tennessee.”
Grimaced face…”Blues?”
“Yep”
Even more contorted face, “What are they doing at this show?”

Oh. Jesus, I thought, I better get another drink. This could get ugly.

Oh me of little faith.

The band had the crowd wrapped around their little finger in two songs. They even moshed a little, which may surprise some of you, but Tampa will…nay HAS…moshed to They Might Be Giants. If there is a band and any sort of a crowd, a mosh pit is soon to follow…but I digress. The crowd ate them up. Breezy with her washboard and mean face was the favorite of the fella standing beside me. Personally, I loved watching Reverend with his high-waisted pants, higher stomping foot and manic guitar picking. While I didn’t bother to stick around for Flogging Molly, I can not imagine they put on a better show.
Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band - Amberdeen
Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band - Another Bottle
Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band - My Old Man Boogie

Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band’s Official Site, Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band on myspace, Buy The Reverend’s albums

Galactic recently came to St. Pete in support of their From The Corner To The Block album and brought a couple of rappers in tow. The opening act (whose name I never caught) had the misfortune of being on stage in the middle of an NFL playoff game and, judging from the density of the crowd around the televisions in the Tamiami, they were playing to an all female audience. Fortunately, the game was pretty much decided by the time Galactic took to the stage. Galactic, kicking out their signature funk-inspired sound and bringing in their own lights/light, show made Jannus a stoner’s mecca for this particular evening and, judging by the smell, they were well represented.

They brought two rappers with them; Mr. Lif and Boots Riley. I was already familiar with the works of Mr. Lif, but had never heard of Boots Riley who, it turns out, fronts the hip-hop crew The Coup. The two could not have been any different. Mr. Lif was basically a crowd killer. Nobody was feeling him and my complaints about his recorded material mirrored my complaints about his live show…too wordy. Boots was the polar opposite and easily the highlight of the show. In both his delivery and his performance, he had the crowd’s undivided attention any time he hit the stage and made a fan out of me.

Galactic - Never Called You Crazy
Galactic - Bittersweet

Galactic w/Mr. Lif - And I’m Out

Galactic w/Boot Riley - Hustle Up

Galactic, Mr. Lif, The Coup, Buy From the Corner to the Block

Last week I walked down to The State to see Blind Melon. Yes, that same Blind Melon. Yes, Shannon Hoon died. Yes, they got a new singer, and much like Creative Loafing penned, I walked into the show thinking, “Who wants to ride the jock of a dead guy?” However, despite expecting something terrible, curiosity got the better of me and I had to go. So I went. Drunk. And not that pre-show, catch a buzz drunk either. I was ‘1/3 a bottle of Beam at home topped with 2 beers and a double at Dirty Nelly’s’ drunk. That’s not wobbling, but beginning to show signs of mouth failure drunk for those that don’t know me. The rest of this tale is told from those fuzzy memories.

Upon walking into the venue I was blow away by the amount of people who had actually come out for the show. I dunno what I was expecting, but it wasn’t a packed house. So I jumped in the beer line, got my eight dollar big beer and set off to find a good spot to watch the show from. Down go the lights and out comes the band with their faux-Hoon. They open with “Galaxie”, with the singer wearing a fully buttoned coat, gloves, a wig and a mask, all the while carrying a mannequin head. Maybe it was the Beam talking or maybe I got it, but I thought the outfit, coupled with the lyrics/chorus of that song, was their way of taking on the issue of Shannon not being there head-on. Two songs later, Travis (the new singer) removed the getup and the band broke into one of their new tracks from their upcoming album. Having a certain flair for dramatics, the metamorphosis wasn’t lost on me and I’ll admit it, they had won me over at that point.

If you close your eyes, Travis Warren does indeed sound just like Shannon Hoon, and I guess it’s easy enough to suggest that they’re riding on a dead dude’s jock, but as I watched the show I got to thinking….This ain’t that bastard version of Lynyrd Skynyrd currently running around the country. Four out of the five original members were up on the stage. They wrote that music too. Shannon Hoon wasn’t Blind Melon…he was the singer of Blind Melon. They have a new singer, he sounds like the old singer, and that will help with the songs from their first 3 albums. They put on a good show and you could tell they were appreciative of the crowd and eager to play. Next time they come to town, I think I’ll go see them again.

I took a few pictures but as I stated earlier, I was rather drunk. Those I did take that came out are visible here.

Blind Melon - Galaxie
Blind Melon - Dear Ol’ Dad
Blind Melon - Tones of Home
Blind Melon - Toes Across the Floor
Blind Melon - No Rain

I was wondering, as I walked into this show, what exactly was I gonna write about? I’ve seen LSS more times than I have fingers to count. I was worried that I was just gonna end up writing (or worse, copy/pasting) the same review into a new subject and moving on. There are parts of the last LSS show where a copy/paste is relevant, if not necessary:

The scene was familiar. Newbies to LSS standing up front. Veterans of Shaker shows standing out of range of snot rockets and the occasional pubic hair tossing, but with their hand covering the top of their cups just in case they underestimated J.D.’s snot launching and pube tossing prowess. The bean pole that is J.D. Wilkes preaching to the crowd with a fire and brimstone to rival any Pentecostal preacher, sometimes using old-fashioned microphones or a harmonica, all with a frenzy that surprising everyone, rookie and vets alike. All being backed by his choir, featuring the ever popular David Lee (guitarist), Mark Robertson (bass) and the new guy on drums banging out a gothic-rockabilly-polka version of southern rock/punk.

However, let’s talk about that drummer for a spell. I have no idea who he is, but he has really added a new element to the Shackshaker’s live show. Either they have really turned the volume up on the drums or this dude beats those things liked they fucked his girl last night. I am gonna vote the latter. Somehow, those bigger drums and the addition of a double bass has given the band an infusion of energy (I didn’t think it was possible, either). The end result was the best performance I have seen by the band since the Halloween show of 2005 at Skippers…and that was probably the best show I saw that year.

So, November gave me the best Shack*Shaker album in a few years, coupled with the best Shack*Shaker show in a few years. Coincidence? Who cares, it kicks ass!

The Legendary Shack*Shakers - Blood on the Bluegrass
The Legendary Shack*Shakers - Where’s the Devil When You Need Him
The Legendary Shack*Shakers - No Such Thing
The Legendary Shack*Shakers - Old Spur Line

Note: I took pictures but being the idiot I am I forgot to upload them last night. I’ll put them up when I get home tonight and post the link here.

Normally, unless I specifically went to a show to see the opening act, I do not write about them. Normally, seeing an opener that I’ve never even heard of doesn’t leave much of an impression. However, judging from the undivided attention the crowd at theOrpheum was giving them, I think I speak for most of the venue when I say the Pine Hill Haints aren’t your normal band.I missed the beginning of the Pine Hill Haints show due to the wife feeling ill and walked in in the middle of a stirring rendition of “Will the Circle Be Unbroken”. The first thing I noticed was the contraption that serves as a Bass; a washtub with a nylon rope coming out of the center that is attached to a broomstick. It looks odd, but it was more than adequate. The drummer’s kit is a single snare which he was playing with steel brushes. The bassist and drummer were rounded out by a guitar-playing singer and a girl who played everything from Mandolin to washboard, and even a handsaw at one point. The band plays a self-described style called Appalachian Ghost Music, a style whose name comes from the fact that they are playing a brand of music that they feel is dead in the modern world. As their set unraveled, the crowd stood motionless as if they were indeed staring at ghosts.

I’ve never seen an O’Death show, but I imagine the Pine Hill Haints pull of a similar vibe. For all the talk of ghost and haunting I’ve done, I don’t want you to get the impression that this was some ethereal belly-button lint picking show. For such a minimal stage setup, these guys beat the hell out of it. Jumpin’, hollerin’, and singin ‘, while a crowd who had never heard them before danced and nodded in approval. Matter of fact, the crowd liked them so much that it requested, and was granted, an encore. Everyone I spoke to after the show was utterly impressed.

If these guys come to your neck of the woods, you should go check it out, it’s a damned good time. Then, as so many others did, buy a copy of their debut disc, Ghost Dance. Taking it’s name from the Native American dance of the same name, the band does lose a little of it’s awe-factor in translation from the live show, but it’s still a wonderful effort nonetheless.

The Pine Hill Haints - Catfish Angels
The Pine Hill Haints - Spirit of 1812
The Pine Hill Haints - When You Fall

The Pine Hill Haints on myspace, Buy Ghost Dance

I was really excited to see this show. There isn’t a III show in the Tampa/St. Pete area that doesn’t find me in attendance, and despite being a fan of their for many years, I had never seen Nashville Pussy. Since both bands were pulling opening slots, I got to Jannus early to ensure I didn’t miss Nashville Pussy. As a result, I was stuck waiting for quite a while…2 1/2 big beers long. Long enough that the wife, whom I had left at home to join me later so I wouldn’t miss Nashville Pussy, even made it in time to see the entire set. Didn’t matter. Having now seen them I can say with certainty that Nashville Pussy can not disappoint. In fact, the only thing about the Nashville Pussy set that was disappointing was it’s brevity. Despite the time limits, Ms. Ruyter Suys and Co. managed to squeeze every single drop of rock from thier time on the stage and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Even my wife, who can take or leave the whole cock rock thing, admitted that it was a rock fist-worthy show.

Nashville Pussy - Fried Chicken and Coffee
Nashville Pussy - Atlanta’s Still Burning
Nashville Pussy - Hate and Whiskey
Nashville Pussy - Rock n Roll Hoochie Co

I was so captivated by the NP show that I did not notice just how crowded it had gotten during their set. In the down time between NP and III I went to get a beer, and Janus was already a sea of bodies from the stage to the entrance to the Tamiami. I got my beer and worked my way up front just in time for Hank III to grace the stage and rock St. Pete with his Honkytonk-meets-Hellbilly set. Two songs into the set, the entire night went to shit. Some 18 pound girl decided she was gonna start running into everything she could manage to. Some dude told me if he did not get his hat (some people behind me took it) back in 10 minutes he was gonna beat me up and that I should tell my boys. I told him I was with my wife, no boys. He said I had 9 minutes. He eventually got his hat, but I was drunk and therefore was planning to punch him on the way out, but the wife, as usual, proved to be a cooler head and pointed out the problems of a 34 year old man getting into scuffles at concerts. Then there was an unrelated fight beside us. Then someone decided they were sick of the 18 pound waterbug girl and threw their drink at her….which hit the wife square in the back. III was awesome…the crowd was absolute crap…and that leads me to this:

Fuck you Tampa/St. Pete Reverend Horton Heat fans. As a collective, y’all suck. It’s like a fucking amateur night at the Apollo with y’all. When you ruined my Legendary ShackShakers show, I should have learned my lesson…but NOOOOOOOOO….I had to give you the benefit of the doubt….I had to go to another show….no more. I’ve learned my lesson. Y’all are a collection of complete fucking idiots. Lemme repeat that. Complete. Fucking. Idiots. The Reverend deserves better.

Hank III - Hellbilly Joker
Hank III - Pills I Took
Hank III - Country Heroes
Hank III - Gravel Pit

It was with lowered expectations and a warm whiskey buzz that I walked into Janus last week for my second Cult show in a year. Last time I saw them, I felt a little let down because they didn’t sound like The Cult I had remembered from 17 years ago. I knew what I was walking into this time and was quite familiar with the new material, so I felt like I was gonna be in for a good show. Ian, Billy and crew took the stage and ran through an acceptable mixing of their new material, buffered with all the classics Cult fans wanted to hear. Time is a bitch, though, especially if you are a singer. With age comes vocal degradation. Ian still sounds like Ian, but he just can’t perform the songs in the same manner that he did 17 years ago. This put me off last year, but this year I went in knowing how it was gonna be, and like Jimi Hendrix said, “If you wanna hear it the way it sounds on the album, stay home and listen to the album.” That said, Ian performed the new material perfectly. Lucky for Billy, time is much kinder to guitarists and he was spot on. All in all, I am glad I went to see them even after being somewhat disappointed by the last show. I had a much better time and would recommend that any long time Cult fan go see them again. Enjoy it, but remember, you can’t do the shit you used to do 17 years ago, and neither can Mr. Astbury…but that doesn’t make it rock any less.

The Cult - King Contrary Man
The Cult - Edie
The Cult - I, Assassin
The Cult - Born Into This

The Cult’s Official Site, The Cult on MySpace, Buy Born Into This