Stagestruck

THE ASYLUM STREET SPANKERS
@The Texas Union Theater, Austin, TX
August 14, 2004
Ten years is a long time for any band to stay together—hell, for most bands that's an unattainable figure. You'd think it would be doubly difficult for an outfit like Austin's iconoclastic Asylum Street Spankers, the lineup of which often stretches into the double digits and which specializes in updated pre-rock & roll styles of music: blues, jazz, hillbilly C&W, string band music, western swing, even vaudeville. But, by god, they've done it. In celebration of a decade of musical spankings, the Spankers threw themselves a party at the Texas Union Theater, the perfect venue for a group that plays with no amplifiers or close mikes. It also allowed them to work with a backdrop, a cartoonish city scene displaying signs of the sadly defunct Austin clubs (R.I.P. Electric Lounge) they once played.

To help commemorate ten years of service, the Spankers decided to bring back a few of the many, many musicians who've passed through the ranks. In truth, nobody came off as a "special guest" or "former member"—once a Spanker, always a Spanker. Bandleaders Wammo (vox, harmonica, washboard) and Christina Marrs (vox, various stringed instruments, saw) and current Spankers Nevada Newman (guitar), PB Shane (bass), Scott Marcus (drums), Reese Gray (piano) and Sick (fiddle) were joined by erstwhile comrades Paul Schlicting and Mike Henry (drums), Kevin Smith and Adam Booker (bass), Korey Simeone and Eamon McLaughlin (fiddle), Olivier Giraud, Josh Arnson and Django Porter (guitars), Pops Bayless (vox, various stringed things), Mysterious John (vox, impressions, kazoo), Stanley Smith (vox, clarinet, guitar) and, most significantly, Guy Forsyth (vox, guitar, harmonica, paddleboard), a group co-founder who had a major impact on the group's early recordings. Indeed, whenever Forsyth hit the stage, he took control, directing the group and the audience as if he'd never left all those years ago. Seeing him perform with the Spankers for the first time in a good eight years or so, I suddenly understood how one band probably couldn't contain two egos the size of Forsyth's and Wammo's.

Ah, but what of the music? Due to the parade of veterans, the set list was understandably light on recent material, though a few gems from My Favorite Record (the modernized folk tale "Monkey Rag," Wammo's acoustic pop tune "Antifreeze," Forsyth's sardonic seduction rap "Whatever," the round-robin title tune) and Mercurial (the amazing doo-wop take on Muddy Waters' "Got My Mojo Workin'" made the cut. Otherwise, it was nothing tunes considered classics by Spankers fans the world over. Smith crooned Ivory Joe Hunter's "Since I Met You Baby" and his adaptation of Benny Goodman's "A Smo-o-oth One" and offered amazing clarinet solos throughout the show. Arnson led a barnburning run through the traditional "Sittin' on Top of the World." Bayless reminded fans of his contributions to Spankersana with "Superchief" and "Funny Cigarette." Mysterious John regaled the crowd in his Al Jolson-esque style with "U.F.O. Attack" and the lovely "Lullaby of the Leaves." Simeone favored us with what he called his "homework assignment" from when he first joined the band, the pothead anthem "Gettin' High." Wammo was his usual smartass self, offering his singalong ode to "Beer," his tribute to the illicit pleasures of "Amsterdam" and his opinions on the state of country radio (still relevant, alas, eight years after it was written) with "Startin' to Hate Country," featuring Mysterious John's mid-song call-and-response evocation of C&W greats. Forsyth ripped into the blues with Robert Johnson's "If I Had Possession Over Judgement Day" and "Jerry the Junker." Marrs, as usual, stole the show every time she opened her golden throat, which wasn't nearly often enough. Still, her versions of "Sugar in My Bowl," "Got My Mojo Workin'" and her duets with Forsyth on "Tain't Nobody's Bizness If I Do" and "If You Want Me to Love You" made clear who the heart and soul of the Spankers is, no matter what the era.

The familial aspect of the Spankers was well-represented by the many duets and round-robin vocals, such as the Marrs/Forsyth tunes, Wammo and Forsyth's genial "Deep Ellum Blues" and their amazingly musical "harp rumble," in which the two dueled on harmonica in a jam that could have become tedious but instead remained fun for band and audience alike. The Marrs-sung "Tight Like That" made use of every Spanker present, as did the encore presentation of "I'll Be Glad When You're Dead You Rascal You." The latter extended the performance to the audience, who were invited to give suggestions from which Forsyth and Wammo would improvise lyrics. It was a reminder of the all-inclusiveness of the Asylum Street Spankers; not only is everybody who's ever been in the band still a Spanker, but so too is anyone who participates, even in the slightest degree. The show was a blast for all concerned. Here's to another ten years. Michael Toland

STAN RIDGWAY
@The Saxon Pub, Austin, TX
August 17, 2004
Another dream fulfilled: after being a fan of Stan Ridgway's music for over 15 years, I finally got to see him play. Ridgway is one the most genuinely unique individuals in American music, the filter through which the combined spirit of Stephen Foster, Dashiel Hammet and some nameless carnival barker comes through, and he has a fine catalog of amazing, utterly distinctive songs going back 18 years—24 if you count his years in Wall of Voodoo (of "Mexican Radio" fame). I've eagerly devoured every record, but have never had the luck to catch him in concert—he doesn't tour much anymore, and when he does, he doesn't often hit Texas. So I was jazzed to see him in as intimate a space as the Saxon Pub. Accompanied by only his acoustic guitar, his keyboardist wife Pietra Wextun and, for about half the set, guitarist Rick King, Ridgway did his own version of the "An Evening with…" setting, playing tunes from nearly every album (skipping only 1991's Partyball, for some reason). He'd occasionally enlighten the small but dedicated crowd as to the subject or inspiration, though more often he'd simply entertain us with his own brand of observational humor. "There's been some changes since last time," he remarked dryly as he put on a pair of glasses and set up his lyric book.

The scaled-down presentation suits Ridgway surprisingly well; while the clever arrangements of many of his songs were missed, the stripped-down style served to heighten both his storytelling skills and his tunes' emotional content. Songs like "Afghan/Forklift," "God Sleeps in a Caboose" or Mose Allison's "Monsters of the Id," all from his latest record Snakebite, felt the most comfortable, simply because the album itself is as low-key as this show. But every tune he played worked, even if it had to be drastically rearranged. "The Big Heat," which is synthesizer-heavy electro-pop on record, became more of a bluesy folk song. "Goin' Southbound" exchanged its synth bass-driven rock for dry folk. "Mexican Radio" was, fittingly for the town and venue, performed in a Tex-Mex folk style not unlike Doug Sahm. Many of my personal favorites—"Stranded," "Peg & Pete & Me," "Police Call," "A Mission in Life," "Camouflage"—made welcome appearances, all in fine versions.

Ridgway's mood seemed to improve greatly as the show went on—he came off as somewhat indifferent at the beginning of the set, but quickly warmed up. Simply because he and his companions wanted to continue playing, he treated the crowd to two four-song encores with gems like Wall of Voodoo's "Call of the West" and covers of Joe South's "Down in the Boondocks" and, mind-bogglingly, Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit." After all these years, even surrounded by longtime fans who know his tendencies, Stan Ridgway still has the power to entertain, enlighten and, most of all, surprise. He's one of the greats and this show proved it. Michael Toland