The Middleman: Quite Possibly The Best Summer Show…Ever

There aren’t many shows that can gracefully walk the line between utter brilliance and absolute cheesy-ness. I think the part that allows the former quality to shine through is that they embrace the latter cheese factor like they were slow-dancing with a Gouda wheel.

Mmmmm… Gouda.

What’s the premise for this Swiss Colony cheese log? Wendy Watson (played by Natalie Morales) is a cute young artist who’s been temping to make the rent - until an accident at her gig for A.N.D. Labs (“Rescrambling your DNA, how can I direct your call?”) resulted in a hundred-eyed blob that tried to kill her, that is. When faced with danger, you either run screaming or try to stab the blob with a letter opener. Any guesses which choice Wendy Watson made? That’s right, our heroine has what The Middleman (played by Matt Keeslar) would refer to as “moxy”. And after helping to save Wendy’s bacon, Middleman went through channels to offer her a job as his apprentice.

So what the frak IS a Middleman? You’re basically looking at a crime-fighting comic book-type hero - complete with Eisenhower jacket and all sorts of nifty gadgets. There is always one in service with another in training. The current model is a milk-swilling (“Mmmm…That’s good cow squirt!”), no-cursing (“Not a gosh darn chance in heck!”), square-jawed, hair-pomade-wearing do-gooder. In the Middleman’s service is Ida, an android in the guise of a cranky librarian with atrocious fashion sense – but she’s always got the info you need in a pinch.

How does this whole thing work – is MM super-rich like Bruce Wayne, or is it more like a spy-movie meets Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. kinda thing? Don’t make me hose you down fanboy, I’m getting to all of that. I think Middleman summed it up best when he was explaining it to Wendy: “I got recruited, the exact same way you did. When the last Middleman hired me, he never said and I never asked. Ida was already there, so were all the weapons and gadgets and things. Sometimes a box comes in with more weapons and gadgets and things. I don't know where they come from; they just do. Maybe Ida runs the show, maybe it's the conspiracy. Maybe it's God. I'm just The Middleman.” They winkingly refer to their agency as O2STK or “Organization Too Secret To Know”.

So, Wendy gets inducted into this secret cabal and her life gets erased I bet! Never to be seen by friends and family again – she probably gets her fingerprints erased with acid, too! Man, you guys need to get out of your basement more. Dubbie (as Wendy is nicknamed by MM) pretty much keeps her normal life, in fact fueling her painting with the wacky hijinks she gets into at work. She lives in a studio apartment with her best friend Lacey, a vegetarian performance artist and animal activist – and love interest for Middleman (she might be a bit interested as well – she’s been known to refer to him as Wendy’s “sexy bossman” or “pillow lips”). Also living in Wendy’s building is Noser, generally seen in the hallway with a guitar. He’s quick with a quip, and usually addresses you with a song lyric. An average exchange?:

Noser: Yo, Wendy Watson.

Wendy: Hey, Noser.

Noser: Who's the Man?

WW: That would be Shaft, Noser.

Noser: What kind of man?

WW: A complicated man.

Noser: And who understands him?

WW: No one but his woman.

Noser: Right on.

Noser has also been known to kick some ass at “Stump The Band” – which consists of someone in the audience yelling out a song title and Noser responding with “Yup, I know that”… Add in Tyler (a love interest for Dubbie - with a twist), an evil son-of-a-landlord (Shut your mouth!) named Pip, a master sensei in a Luchadore mask and a revolving rogues gallery and you’ve got the basic idea.

This doesn’t sound THAT campy so far. I mean, wasn’t it based on some silly comic book, too? Yes, there were three Middleman comics mini-series published by Viper Comics, written by Javier Grillo-Marxuach and illustrated by Les McClaine. And the tone was smarmy in the comic, so imagine what it sounds like coming out of the mouths of real people – I can tell you, it pretty much sounds like Kevin Smith writing lightning-fast dialogue for superheroes on acid. And as for the camp factor? I’ll give you five reasons this show is dripping with cheese, and yet you’ll still lap up every drop:

1. A Super-intelligent ape starts running the local mafia (as a bonus, the name of the local mob hangout, Il Mutande Grandissimo, loosely translates to “the really big underpants”).
2. An intergalactic boy band (Varsity Fan Club) spreads mayhem – and horrible music – across the universe.
3. Kevin Sorbo (yes, Hercules) plays a Middleman put in cryo-sleep in the ‘60s. And he’s a cocktail-drinking, smooth-talking lothario, baby!
4. Flesh-eating zombies that want to eat your…Trout?!
5. Two words: Vampire. Puppet.

So what’s the catch? And why haven’t I heard more about this show if it’s so good? The only catch is that there’s only one episode left in the first season, airing tomorrow night (Monday, Sept. 1st) at 10pm on ABC Family. The real problem is that if people don’t catch on to how great MM is, this could be the ONLY new episode we ever get. So get caught up on the story – the episodes are available on iTunes, and I’m sure you can find them through more –ahem- questionable methods elsewhere. Then tell everyone you know to tell everyone they know. Then tell them to give ABC Family feedback on the show here. Or take Javier Grillo-Marxuach’s mild suggestion to prompt renewal, as can be read here. And again, WATCH THE EPISODES! Then you too can:

Delight! To the zany antics of our cadre of heroes...

Fear! The men in rubber masks trying to take over the world...

Pee A Little! As you laugh at brilliantly insane dialogue...

Still can’t get enough? Read the Middleman comics, all in one nifty package – click here for more info from Amazon.com.

Then come back tomorrow for the Labor Day song list, kids! Peace and geese for now…

Strange Things Have Been Afoot At The Circle K

Hi all - I know it's been a bit since I've posted any goodies, and that makes me sad too:(

But the truth is, I've been off fighting the zombie hordes to keep your backyards safe from the shambling undead. And in this summer season of BBQs and outdoor birthday parties, do you really want to see the recently deceased chewing on the pony you'd rented for your kids? Of course you don't, it's really hard to get your deposit back that way. You can thank me later.

Right now, though, I wanted to let you know that I'm back on track and have lots on deck. Between tomorrow's Labor Day song list, the impending Fall TV season and all sorts of groovy new music picks coming your way, we should have plenty to keep us chatting.

And no pesky zombies - NOW you can thank me...

Flies On Fire: Overlooked and Under-Appreciated

(First off, a big thank you to Ric Browde and Tim P. for all the correspondence and help compiling this story…)

I was originally going to start this with a funny spoof of the Behind The Music template. I could have started with an intro like: “Four young musicians converged on the LA scene in the late ‘80’s with a common goal: to make a scorching brand of rock and roll that they could call their own”, leading into the story of their brief dalliance with success. But the problem with Behind The Music was that the last segment always morphed into: “Band Member X turned into a giant prick and the others in the group simply ceased to rock.” or something more dramatic like “Hopped up on PCP, their pet Orangutan maimed a clown - signaling the beginning of their downward spiral.” But really, the only tragedy Flies On Fire had to face was the fact that after only two albums, their clearly delusional record label parted ways with this amazing talent.

Flies 101 – In The Beginning…

The back half of the ‘80s was a weird time for music – we saw the end of the era of teased hair and general rock’n’roll clichés giving way to the stripped-down, flannel-clad grunge kids of the early ‘90s. Flies On Fire started out somewhere in the middle of that equation (around ’86 or ’87), and didn’t fit easily into any one category. I mean, sure they were playing a breed of rock – but like all dog lovers will tell you, a good ol’ cross-bred mutt is much more fun. You could hear the obvious Stones influence, but with a slight Southern snarl and twang coming out to play. Or maybe you were holding out for a more punk mindset, or perhaps something that sounds like you just opened the door to a Baptist church on Sunday – just wait a couple songs, the Flies will get around to it. And the fact that they were working the LA club scene in the late ‘80s and wearing jeans and t-shirts instead of sporting spandex and blush? Who needed it - the music spoke for itself.

So, who are these guys and where are they from? Interesting that you should ask – remember that Southern flair I talked about earlier? Well Tim P. (Paruszkiewicz - guitar, vocals, main songwriter) gives a different story than I had expected: “I am not from the South – I was born and raised on the East side of Detroit. I played in a band for some time with a couple of guys from Mississippi and it must have rubbed off. Ritchie (D’Albis – drums, vocals) is from New Haven, CT, Terry (“Mess” Messal – bass) is from Alamagordo, New Mexico and Howard Drossin (guitar) is a native of North Hollywood. We all came to LA separately to play.”

How did these crazy kids put the band together? Tim and Ritchie met through an ad in the recycler (which, I’m assuming, is like our local Penny Saver adverts), and originally played for another band called Derigeur. Those two met Terry through a similar listing: “We wanted him in our band before we ever heard him play”, says Tim. “He was and is truly the nicest person I have ever met – he makes me laugh.” (Howard Drossin was the last to the party, showing up around when the first album was being recorded).

In 1988, The Flies landed the gig as house band for the popular Sunset Strip Night Club “The Coconut Teaszer”. During that residency, the guys won the MTV “Basement Tapes” with their self-produced video for “Long Gone Dead” (yes, MTV was still playing music in ’88 – kooky, huh?). This brought them national exposure, but still no record deal – until producer Ric Browde (Joan Jett, Ted Nugent, Poison) caught their phenomenal live show. Browde got them to record five songs, bringing these tracks to the attention of ATCO Records (then a subdivision of Atlantic), where the Flies signed on with the label.

Flies 201 – And Then There Was Rock – A Discography (Of Sorts)

1989 saw the release of their self-titled first effort. It showed that a band could inject humor into the songwriting recipe without diluting the intelligence of the lyrics, while making it all look easy. And the music? A bullet train ride that took us through most of the rock landscape, from the opening roar of “Anything Goes” to the gospel overtones of “Salvation Boulevard” and back ‘round the bend to smarmy tales of the music industry like “Let It Roll”. The album features bombastic guitar, ferocious drums and vocals that range from a quaint drawl to a primal howl in three songs flat. And the addition of female backup singers and just a dash of harmonica certainly set these guys apart from the generic ‘80s flotsam. No pretentious antics, no devil horns, no gimmicks – just the music. If anything, the Flies were a year ahead of the curve – The Black Crowes took their similar stripped down rock sound to the masses with their debut in 1990.

So why didn’t the Flies’ album sell like hotcakes, too? Ric Browde shared a little speculative history on the subject: “The record company’s president (who was never the biggest Flies fan) insisted on releasing “C’Mon” as the first single, which both (Atco’s) head of promotion and I argued would be a mistake - most of us wanted “Anything Goes””, says Browde. ““C’mon” picked up a few radio stations but not enough – and the second single “Baptize Me Over Elvis Presley’s Grave” never really worked.” From there, ATCO’s president continued to drop the ball as he began to commit resources to his pet project, Enuff Z'Nuff (who, if you’d told me were still around before I started researching this, I would have laughed at – yet they’re still going. Where’s the justice?)

So by the time the second (and final) album, Outside Looking Inside, dropped, Flies On Fire only seemed to be a minor blip on ATCO’s promotional radar. Which is a shame, considering the sophomore album showed that this band had no sign of losing momentum. You could tell right from the opening track, “Cry To Myself”, that the addition of the horn section to their already lush arrangements became something that would leave Jagger and his crew yearning for their glory days. “Hello Mr. Daniels” is the obligatory drowning your sorrows song – a song that was destined to fuel as many drunken debacles as the accompanying mornings after. And you say you want a “Na-na-na” singalong ballad? Well, look no further than “Turn Your Head, Close Your Eyes”. This disc had a little bit of everything, but it was too late – the plug had been pulled on this fantastic band.

After their demise, the band still had a bit of a budget left over, though. So Ric Browde got the boys back into the studio to record a few more songs – all of which made it onto the companion disc to Browde’s book, “While I’m Dead…Feed The Dog” (which sounds hilarious and is still available here).

Flies 301 – Advanced History or “Where Are They Now?”

Is it true that the guys had a punk makeover? You bet your sweet patootie they did - the original core trio of FOF (Tim P, “Mess” and Ritchie) formed Vitamade in 1995. They released one album, “Everything You Need” on Bong Load Records – with each song clocking in under the two minute marker. This configuration eventually morphed into VOMF (Very Ordinary Mother Fuckers) – the same exact band and sound, just without the support of a label. They released one album, for digital download only - and you can still chech them out on YouTube and MySpace.

What happened to VOMF, then? I’ll leave that to Tim: “VOMF and Vitamade were my personal favorite band(s) ever (and I speak for Terry and Ritchie here), and it was the highlight of my performing career. We were and are very close friends and it’s just more fun to be stuck in a van for months on end with people you like. In 99 we played our last gig together as VOMF - the breakup was a totally mutual thing, we just weren’t making enough to support our families and had to move on. I still talk with or see the guys on a regular basis. The subject of Flies On Fire rarely comes up.”

So, are they jaded about the music biz? Surprisingly, they retain an incredibly optimistic view. When I asked Tim for his general take on the industry, he had this to say: “My comment about the music industry is always pretty much the same thing: “Do what you do and do it well.” And never ever forget that it’s a BUSINESS. The ultimate goal is to make a living at it.”

And most of the guys ARE making a living at it – just not as the rock icons I’d hoped they would become. Here’s what they’re up to now:

- Tim Paruszkiewicz is currently the musical composer for Reno 911, The Mind Of Mencia and The Root Of All Evil, all on Comedy Central, as well as the made-for-TV movie “Bait Shop" (starring Bill Engvall and Billy Ray Cyrus). “Apparently the TV/film industry thinks my music is funny…go figure.”

- Ritchie D'Albis moved back to New Haven and has played in many bands. He is currently in an experimental art rock band called Taiga.

- Terry Messal is still in LA, teaching junior high school. He has set up a very successful after school music program called “Garage Band”. “He’s gonna go down as that teacher who makes a difference in young people’s lives”, comments Tim.

- Howard Drossin is a talented film composer/orchestrater who has recently worked on “Inside Man” and “25th Hour”, both with Spike Lee.

Okay, I’m ready to rock – where can I get some FOF music? Well, you can pretty much do your one-stop shopping at Amazon.com – they’ve got both Flies discs (for around 4 bucks each), Vitamade, VOMF (for download) and Ric Browde’s book. It doesn’t get much easier folks – go get it!

Newport Folk Festival 2008 - Day 1, Part 2 (The Rains Came)

And now for the rest of the day – did I mention it was starting to sprinkle a little rain on the festivities during Steve Earle?…

3:00pm: Still at the Harbor Stage, waiting for my most anticipated band of the day, She & Him. If you don’t know who that is – first off, shame on you, but the “She” in the equation is super-cute indie movie sensation Zooey Deschanel while “Him” is alt-country hipster M. Ward. And if you haven’t HEARD them and you’re whining that “This is probably just another pampered Hollywood star needlessly indulging her musical fantasies!” – just shut up now, because theirs is one of the best collaborations/albums of the year. Deshanel’s soulful, delightfully off-kilter vocals mesh perfectly with Ward’s arrangements - a mix of music that is complex in its simplicity punctuated with endearing lyrical musings. Couldn’t have been more excited - so of course the skies had to open up right after they hit the stage. I’m not talking about a little rain, I’m talking about a hosing down rivaling wet t-shirt night, kids. But the show went on in the tent, with Deschanel in a sparkly yellow dress eventually covered by a polka dot poncho as we hit monsoon season. They were troopers, even when technical difficulties threatened – Ward had to abandon the acoustic guitar when it gave some (continuous) loud feedback, pulling a Newport classic and going electric. The highlights of the show? They played a good portion of the material from Volume One (their recent debut CD) during the 14-song set, with Deschanel occasionally playing keyboard. Their two singles were big hits, a rockin’ version of “Why Do You Let Me Stay Here” and their breakout song “This Is Not A Test”. Sandwiched between those two gems was “Magic Trick”, a song from M. Ward’s solo work, which also featured the talent of Jim James – the My Morning Jacket frontman who is up next on this stage. Two other songs of note: first, backup singer Becky Stark (of Lavender Diamond) got lead vocal duties on her own song, “The Garden Rose”, and “Lingering Still” was the other non-solo-act non-album-track – very well received by the audience. They all took their bows after the finale of “Sweet Darlin’”, and Zooey graciously accepted flowers from a fan.

4:00pm: I now look like I’ve BEEN IN a wet t-shirt contest. No way to get under the tent, so we’ve been flat-backed against the fort wall, which has a slight overhang. Not MUCH shelter, but not AS drenched as other folks, so there’s that…

4:10pm: The aforementioned Jim James comes out. I’m not the biggest fan – I like the guitar work, I respect the man, I just don’t get the whole singing-in-a-tin-can vocal sound that he likes. But my girlfriend loves him, so I’m trying. At any rate, he came onstage with a little electric effects box (is there a more technical term – I’m sure, but you get the picture) that he rocked out with solo for the first few songs, later to be accompanied by M. Ward for a few songs (the two seem to travel in the same circles quite often, not just today – I saw Ward open for My Morning Jacket at the Webster Theatre in CT). The rain stopped partway through his set, so we decided to ring out our clothes and take a walk.

4:45pm: Got to the Waterside Stage and couldn’t hear anything at a distance. The Felice Brothers were supposed to be playing, and I was hoping they didn’t have to cancel them due to the rain. As we got closer, we could see the crowd and hear some singing and instruments – unplugged, how quaint, I thought (I also assumed that the tiny tent covering the sound storm probably wasn’t enough to shield it from the rain, and maybe fearing electrocution cut the power. I later learned that electricity had gone out due to the storm, and this was the only stage without backup power.). Trudged through the mud and puddles to get as close as we could, but the crowd was thickly massed around the band to hear better. It turns out that they had taken the act off the stage and into the audience to make things a little more personal. Their energy was astounding, and Ian Felice (lead vocals/guitar) was already starting to lose his voice from shouting. Oh, and he was down to four strings on his gee-tar, presumably lost to the frenetic first half of the show. James Felice, a bearded bear of a man, squeezed the accordion with flair, helping lend some backup voice to his brother. Simone Felice is the crazed drummer of the family, and he was encouraging the audience to sing and clap along, leaving his kit to maniacally roam the middle aisle in an attempt to bring the energy levels to a combustible level. On washboard and fiddle was Farley, joining in the raucous antics. When Ian asked for requests towards the end, it may have been a mistake – people were obviously shouting out things that were too difficult without a mic. They did the big crowd-pleaser, their first hit, “Frankie’s Gun”, and Ian got to take a break when everyone sang pretty much the whole song for him. James had everyone up and dancing with the band at one point shortly before the end, and prefacing the last song (which I think was a rousing rendition of a traditional tune, “Hallelujah (Lay My Burdens Down)”) Ian said it was their finale, then he was going to go die of throat cancer. Hopefully not, because I have GOT to see these guys again!

5:40pm: Went back to the Fort Stage to check on our soggy chairs and bags. Stephen & Damian Marley were still playing – much later than they were supposed to be, but everything on that stage was rain-delayed. They had the crowd up and dancing, but I confess I was preoccupied with drying out – although it was really fun to watch a bunch of older ladies playing the part of the dancing fools:)

6:00pm: The big finale, The Black Crowes. I love-Love-LOVE their studio music, but I confess I’ve been fairly disappointed seeing them live in the past (I’ve see them twice before). My previous experience was that they would noodle around on the guitar, extending each 3-4 minute studio song to a 10-15 minute opus. One of my bad experiences was a nearly two hour set consisting of seven songs. Yeeesh. Don’t get me wrong, I like some jam bands and guitar solos in general. But when you lose track of what song the band was playing out of sheer boredom, they’ve lost you. This set was almost the exact opposite – they came out with acoustic guitar for the first few songs, keeping it to the 3-4 minute limit. Good, I thought, maybe they’ve figured out the right stage formula. But it never really got any flavor to it, and I actually found myself wanting more electric guitar, god forbid. Chris Robinson has an amazing voice, but it just seems like they weren’t giving it an opportunity to shine. It sounded like there was a lot coming off the latest disc, Warpaint, like “Whoa Mule”. Although it’s a solid effort, it may be a bit on the slow side to showcase the band’s talents. I want to love every facet of these guys, but I just don’t get the live stuff…

All in all, a fantastic day – I just wish the rain hadn’t trapped us for so long. As usual, the most fun to be had was at the smaller stages, since they provide more intimate venues and have such great new talent - we've seen Old Crow Medicine Show, Hot Buttered Rum and Foghorn Stringband play the Waterside Stage in the past, and such an exciting way to be introduced to new music.

Coming up soon, I'm looking forward to seeing the Felice Brothers again, and as luck would have it they will be appearing at the Iron Horse in Northampton, MA on Friday September 5th (for more info/tix go here). Hope to see you all there!

Newport Folk Festival 2008 - Day 1, Part 1 (In The Sun)

(Just as a disclaimer, I only attended the festival on Saturday...)

6:00am: “No…No! Captain Stubing, I don’t care if this is the Love Boat, I told you I don’t want to see your poop deck!”… Buzzzzzzzzzzzzz! (annoying alarm clock noise) Whew, what a weird nightmare – crap, is it really 6 in the morning?! Rassum frassum Newport…

7:30am: Stupid birds singing, stupid sun out, stupid people on the road in front of me. Need car-to-car missile system to clear traffic! Grrrrr!

7:45am: Dunkin Donuts coffee good – feeling humanity resurface. Caffeinated Juano happier, doesn’t want to smash puny humans.

10:45am: In Newport now, found nifty back route to Fort Adams last year. Yay, no downtown gridlock!

11:00am: Pulling into Fort Adams – seriously, they’re charging $15 for parking? Gotta say, liked Dunkin Donuts sponsorship a helluva lot more than the Festival Network so far.

11:20am: After setting up a base camp at the main stage, we head over to the Harbor Stage (the mid-sized of the three) to check out the Young at Heart Chorus. Yes that’s right, we traveled three hours from Western Mass to catch a band from… Western Mass. But with all the attention they’ve gotten from their award-winning documentary, we figured it was about time to actually see them.

11:30am: Impressive band backing Young at Heart: Freddy Freedom (Drunk Stuntmen) on guitar, Jim Armenti (Lonesome Brothers) on bass and Ken Maiuri (Mammals, School For The Dead) on keyboard. (Sorry to say I didn’t recognize the drummer, but I will amend if I find out who it was.) Steve Sanderson (Drunk Stuntmen) was also around, mainly helping set up the mics for upcoming singers (and lending a hand with vox at their urging on “Dancing In The Dark”). If you don’t know the story of the Chorus themselves, they currently range in age from 72 to 88 and do covers of songs ranging from Bruce Springsteen to the Ramones. Sounds interesting? Pull your heartstrings a bit? You don’t even know until you see it live – I saw tattooed up, muscle-bound tough guys with tears fully flowing by song #2, no exaggeration (as for me, I'm pretty sure my sun block was just making my eyes water). And the material! Lou Reed’s “Walk On The Wild Side” (with the “giving head” line appropriately – and very cutely – censored with an “ahem” at just the right time), Jimi Hendrix’s “Purple Haze”, James Brown’s “I Feel Good” (with some crazy dance moves that almost made ME need to take a nap), The Ramones’ “I Wanna Be Sedated” and the obligatory Bob Dylan tribute for the set finale, “Forever Young”. Young At Heart’s name says it all – and I wish I could show as much energy at 37 as they do now.

12:15pm: Checked in on the main stage, caught the end of the Cowboy Junkies. Much louder than I remember them – but quite good. Lead singer Margo Timmins has quite the set of pipes.

12:25pm: I was a little worried about this. All the stages are starting to have a lot bigger acts playing, and the headliners seem to be getting more pop/cult-friendly every year. With the Black Crowes as the finale today, and Jimmy Buffett tomorrow, this year seems to be much more jam-packed with attendees. Couldn’t even get past the people standing in back to get into the TENT for Jakob Dylan. Listened to two songs from the back - he played the big single, “Something Good This Way Comes”, for the second - couldn’t deal with the masses of people beyond that…

12:40pm: Went to the Waterside Stage (the smallest of the three, generally showcasing up-and-coming talent) to catch the second half of Red Rooster’s set. They’re a pretty cool alt-country band from New York, and one of the winners of the Ourstage.com competition for slots to play the fest. There were male/female harmonies, banjo and saxamaphone – Oh My! I plan on exploring a bit more of their stuff at redroostermusic.com.

1:20pm: Caught the end of the legendary Richie Havens’ set, which finished with a rousing cover of “Maggie’s Farm” – are you sensing the Bob Dylan trend here? Makes sense given the venue and all, I suppose…

1:40pm: Headed over to the Harbor Stage again to try and stake a claim after Dylan’s set was scheduled to end. Pushed through the throngs to find a little patch of grass off the right side of the stage we could call our own (there was still no getting near an actual seat). Planned to stick it out through Steve Earle/Allison Moorer and She & Him.

1:50pm: Steve Earle came out solo with an acoustic guitar, starting with the appropriate “Christmas In Washington” – which calls upon the spirit of Woody Guthrie to “come back to us now”. Earle’s wife and musical compatriot Allison Moorer came on stage a few songs in to accompany him and did a solo song, “Mockingbird”, about halfway through. The weirdest part of the set? A DJ provided a techno drum backbeat for the last few songs. When you think of Earle, you generally picture a scruffy folk/country singer with earnest and honest songs, and a couple of rants about the police – like the one that started when the speakers picked up some other audio (“It’s probably the cops – they think they own all the frequencies”, he jibed. Give him a break, he was in prison for a bit.) The point is, you don’t expect to hear electric beats backing him up – once you got used to it, it was okay, but hearing him shout “Kick it!” like a kid at a rave was still unnerving. His upbeat singles “City of Immigrants” and “Satellite Radio” actually worked pretty well with this arrangement, a nice exclamation point to a set pulling half of its songs from his most recent effort, Washington Square Serenade.

Up Next: Part 2 - And then the rains came… Craptastic!