A Dank and Dreary Night at The 'Wizard

Bad weather and the impending final exams at UT added up to a slow night last Sunday at The Electric Wizard. Seems like most of the regulars for Dave Whitaker's soiree opted to stay warm and dry, missing what could have been a good show—if there had only been anyone there to see it.

The first band on the bill was Morristown's favorite sons, The Lovejoys. The band showed plenty of potential in their set, but were held back by a lack of confidence and poor quality equipment.

Usually, the problem with newer bands is that they are too cocky and overstep the limits of their abilities. Instead, The Lovejoys were too subdued and simplistic in their delivery. Their playing was dead-on, but they could benefit from a few more licks to vary their simplistic and sometimes monotonous tunes.

Insofar as their songwriting went, The Lovejoys were strong. But the band would probably be better off if it pulled out the stops and took a few chances. It seemed like the members of the band were going to implode from the effort it took to overcome their shyness in approaching the microphones. And their drummer could sure use a decent kit. Nonetheless, the band showed promise and I'm sure the members will overcome their insecurities with time and a little more experience on-stage.

Next up was Knoxville's quasi goth rockers, Pegasi 51. I'd heard the band a lot on WUTK, but its live show overshadowed its recordings by far. The band pulled off a strong set of well played, gloomy songs that were reminiscent of The Mission U.K. and Sisters of Mercy, with perhaps a bit more of a hard rock accent.

Pegasi 51 scored extra points for their exceptional choice of a cover song. Any band that plays a tune by Warsaw (an early incarnation of seminal doom rockers, Joy Division) is A-OK with me. And they played it with verve and panache. Too bad there were only a handful of people there, because the band really shone.

A little before midnight, headliners Flair took over the room and played a powerful set for the few stragglers that remained. The Birmingham-based band was obviously used to playing in bigger clubs to better crowds, and deservedly so. In spite of the dwindling audience, the trio still rocked out.

Flair picked a fitting moniker, because the band was tight and professional. The group came across as standard-issue college radio fare similar to the Afghan Whigs and the like.

The strong points of the band were the exceptional guitar work and rock-solid rhythm section. Vocally, however, the band was a bit lacking. The singer's adenoidal voice was grating—but then again, others might be charmed by it. I thought he was a bit whiny, in a Greg Dulli/Billy Corgan kind of way. He probably would've sounded better through a proper P.A. system.

The main thing missing from Flair's set was inspiration—and who could be inspired by playing to a tiny, empty room on a dismal, foggy night? Nobody would have been able to muster up too much enthusiasm under such circumstances.

This was just one of those times when those intangible factors just didn't come together for a good rock show. The essential ingredient, a rowdy crowd, was missing. So three bands played for each other as the cold rain fell down. No hot rockin' tonight, just the proverbial paying of dues. Win some, lose some. Nobody ever said that show business was gonna be easy.

Local CD Review

American Fool
The Blame

You may not yet recognize The Blame name, the band having played only a handful of local gigs. You may, however, recognize the band's former incarnation, The Scenesters, an intense rock power trio that made waves hereabouts for more than two years.

As the band prepares for another upcoming local show (Dec. 11 at the Longbranch Saloon), it also prepares for the local release of its inaugural E.P., American Fool, a six-song dose of the kind of over-the-edge heavy rock The Scenesters specialized in.

But whereas the former band overlaid earthy post-grunge with powerful Big Rock moves, The Blame is harsher, punkier, replacing the grand gestures of old with a sneering indie vibe. American Fool rides in on a chugging locomotive riff on "Dirty Blonde," a hell-bent rocker that spices tasty trash riffs with bluesy guitar whines. And cuts like "Middle of the Night" and "This Time Is the Last Time" preface relentless punk onslaught with distorto riffs and big feedback, propelled like a runaway dump truck by drummer Kevin Armbrister's perpetual-motion slam.

On "Mile Away," The Blame demonstrate some facility with slower tempos as they churn out a dirge that could have been recorded by Tom Waits on really bad acid, all cheese-grater vocals and thudding menace. And be forewarned that the closing cut, "Figment of My Imagination," ends with some extended feedback noodling before giving way to a tasty "surprise" nugget at the end of the disc.

All in all, The Blame lacks the rock hookiness of its former band, The Scenesters, but hooks ultimately aren't what The Blame is about. Instead, it takes the sheer barnstorming angst and raw rock energy at which The Scenesters were so adept and distills it to a form that's purer yet, achieving yet another, higher level of three-chord intensity. Give American Fool a listen, and Blame no one but yourself.

This Just In

Those of you still hemming and hawing over your New Year's Eve plans may want to consider the following—not only will the pre-millennial eve be the last night to see Knoxville's own V-Roys, it'll also be chock full of other smashing talent. Just confirmed are: R.B. Morris and his band, which features Kenny Vaughan and Hector Qirko, Todd Steed as master of ceremonies, and a short-lived reunion of Run, Jump, and Throw Like A Girl, a Knoxville super-group with Steed, Scott Miller, and Jeff Bills. A champagne toast at midnight can be had by those of age. Party favors will also be tossed to the crowd and the new baby V2K will be on hand to surprise all. Plus, the new, last, and live V-roys CD, Are You Through Yet, will be on sale. Tickets are still available and only $25 bucks—and the price goes up after Christmas. I know where I'll be...

—Zippy "With Bells On" McDuff