A Live Shot Two-fer

A large and rowdy crowd assembled at Moose's Music Hall last Tuesday for a cheapo concert by Machine Head and Shootys Groove. As part of a Extreme Radio 94.3 FM promotion, scads of rockers clad in big pants and baseball caps filed in with a can of food for a donation and 94 cents to see the concert by a couple of up and comers on the new metal market.

Shootys Groove took the stage first, playing a mix of rap, reggae, and some heavier sounds that sounded unsettlingly like 311 or Sugar Ray. All of the prerequisite yo boy moves were part of the band's onstage presentation, something I chose to sit out in the front room bar.

After a brief intermission, Machine Head mounted the stage while some hokey, semi-operatic music played, which was apparently calculated to put the crowd in a darker frame of mind. Donning their guitars, the band blasted into some standard heavy guitar riffage that quickly degenerated into the usual rap-metal hybrid that is so popular with the wild, cigarette smoking kids of today.

The crowd really ate it up, jumping and cheering with the least bit of provocation from the band. A real highlight of Machine Head's crowd participation schtick was when the lead singer got the crowd to chant along, saying, "when I say f—k, you say 'you!'" Talk about boldly going where no man has gone before in terms of outrage...

The real topper of the evening was when the band displayed its old-school metal roots, butchering two great metal standards in a row. First of all, the band attempted a rendition of Black Sabbath's "Iron Man," which it couldn't complete. Instead of minimizing its losses, the band then went on to play Iron Maiden's "The Trooper"—couldn't finish that one either.

A quick look at Machine Head's laughable style choices was a portent of the lame show to come. The drummer looked like Scott Weiland, circa 1992, the longhaired bassist looked like a good old Satan worshipping metalhead (leather pants even!) and the lead singer had lady liberty spiked hair, facial piercing, and enough sports paraphernalia to signify that he listened to rap as well as metal. The worst of the lot was the guitarist with the latex shirt on and one of those piled high, fountain-looking dreadlock formations popularized by the bad boy in N'Sync. I wonder if his mama knows what he's wearing in public?

Meanwhile, Dave Whitaker's Pinnacle Promotions truly reached its apex last Tuesday, netting record attendance for the Wesley Willis concert at the Electric Wizard. Over 100 scenesters flocked to the diminutive arcade for a questionable show that was, as predicted, the social event of the season for Knoxville's indie rock insiders.

The evening's festivities were opened up with an acoustic set by none other than former Metro Pulse senior intern, Greg Siedschlag. I didn't manage to catch Greg's set but the word on the street is that this kid has that special something—whatever that is. He sure did look spiffy in his thrift store suit, that's for certain.

Next up were Knoxville favorites Mustard, playing a loose, sit-down set of quieter material. Plenty of the old crowd-pleasers like "Rolly Polly" were pulled out of the hat, to the delight of Mustard's hardcore fans. Sure, the set had its charms, but the lack of volume and laid-back delivery meant that the band's biggest strength, Chris Cook's excellent guitar mangling, took a back burner. Cook and company are versatile enough to pull this kind of set off; but the band is at its best when they crank it up and kick out the jams.

Along for the tour with Willis was Chicago indie pop band, My Super Space Out Day. Yep, the band looked cool enough and played the right kind of music for the 20-something crowd—meaning meandering pop with quiet and loud passages, but they just weren't that tight or lacked in the charisma department. Cool tattoos don't necessarily make your music any better.

Finally, after the bewitching hour of midnight, Wesley Willis took the stage with his Casio keyboard in tow. At this point, the 'Wizard was so packed that you couldn't see what was going on even if you climbed on top of one of the video games (I tried).

Willis kicked off his set with "Kula Shaker" and then launched into a series of songs that all had similar titles and like-minded themes. It seems that each song was called "Suck a [put any animal's name here] Booty Hole." Now I don't know about you, but hearing countless songs about oral copulation and corpophilia with animals is not exactly my idea of high art.

About half of the crowd was actually attentive enough to hang around for the entire set, which seemed to go on forever. It was funny to watch people nodding their heads along to Willis' inept keyboard playing as if it were actually good.

I can't really say whether or not the audience was laughing at Willis or laughing with him, because Willis wasn't laughing at all. The gigantic schizophrenic was so out of it that he apparently thought there was some kind of substance to his material. I kind of felt sorry for him.

The burning question in my mind was just how exploitative this kind of event was for someone who is probably better off institutionalized. I sure can't point fingers at anyone else though, because I was there, too.

To Do:

Thursday: A Band Called L.I.F.E with Wicked Cow People at Moose's Music Hall.
Friday: Poetry Slam at Bird's Eye View.
Saturday: Edi Ocri at Barley's.
Sunday: Gothic Retro '80s at Lava Lounge.
Monday: Louise Mosrie at Java.
Tuesday: The Haywoods at Charlie Peppers.
Wednesday: Rockslide at Barley's.

— Zippy "Four Fingers Back At Me" McDuff