Austin Fanzine Project

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Geek Weekly #4

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best stuff was out of the Kreature Comforts Lowlife Guide to Memphis which you must get if you go there. But the best part was when we were on the way home and Jeff said, "oh, let's go see one more thing." He wouldn't tell me where we were going, he just gave me directions. We ended up in a vacant lot in a bad part of town and, just as I was beginning to have second thoughts about the character of my "friend", Jeff looked around and whispered reverently, "This was Stax. "

Round two of the Dixie Friend Backalley Brawl: First were the Cowslingers. I liked them more than I thought I would. Fucked-up-truck-stop-country-rock-d-roll. The the Woggles and the Royal Pendletons, I'm not sure of the order. Somehow, any time the Woggles take the stage, I miss them. I've heard I'm not missing much, but I don't know. I also withhold judgement on the Royal Pendletons who definitely have some good songs and, as we discovered Monday morning at breakfast, are some of the funniest guys on the planet.

Anyway, Guitar Wolf was next and I watched most of their set, although it was the exact same show I'd seen in Austin a week earlier. Sure, it was a good set, but I was in Memphis and hangin' out in the alley, drinkin' a beer and shootin' the shit with some local folk was just way more appealing to me at the time. I don't regret the decision at all since I ended up having the closest thing to a conversation I've ever had with Grifters drummer/van pilot extraordinaire, Stan (and his super-cool wife).

The moment I had been waiting for arrived: Man...or Astroman? were up next. If you know me well enough (heh, heh) you know that I have a sick, misguided, obsessive drive to own every single M...oA? release. I think I may be finally coming to my senses regarding this disease, but there's just something awfully appealing to me about a band that repeatedly goes through entire interviews without admitting to being from this planet (it's that damned geek thing again). The set was a bit disappointing to me musically and they were playing one person short, but they were energetic and fearless even when the sampling apparatus went on the fritz and the bassist started reciting all the samples to compensate for the loss. The multimedia aspects were pleasing. IF the music wasn't holding your attention (or,more accurately, if you were trying to drown out the rambunctious asshole next to you who was trying to get the bassist to check out his silly hand made, "Look at my fucking shirt! It says

Last edit almost 7 years ago by ClaudiaDurand
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AND THAT WAS JUST ENOUGH.

Scott had promised me he'd do what he could to get Ben and Carl in to the club (the Empty Bottle is 21+ and Ben and Carl were 16). When they got there no one was watching the door, so they just walked in, but soon they were spotted. They explained that they were with me and I explained that I was with the Grifters and Scott explained that they were cool and the guy marked up their hands real good and instructed them to stay at least 20 feet from the bar at all times and to go to the light booth if the cops came and to say that they worked there. Ben and Carl were fucking thrilled! Especially when Tripp remembered to thank them during the show for running lights. I left them and went into the back room to drink. The room was full of pot smoke and smoke smoke and every time someone knocked on the door I got worried. Each time though, it was the club owner coming to see if the bands needed anything. They would ask for more beer or whatever, but finally someone asked for some tequila and the owner brought a whole bottle.

The Grifters played one of the best shows I've ever seen a band play. It was just incredible. I was having a little trouble standing up, and they were up there doing their thing better than I can explain.

I couldn't believe it. The only sign that they were drunk was at the end of the set when Dave couldn't get his guitar off and cursed, "Tequila."

I hung out for the rest of the weekend with my brother and his friends. We went to see one of the Grifter's instores the next day and just fucked around in Chicago. I really miss that place.

Jennifer LaSuprema

Photo caption: The Grifters (Tripp, Dave, Scott, Stan) in front of the Music Box Theatre next door to Blackout Records in Chicago.

Last edit almost 7 years ago by ClaudiaDurand
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COLUMBIA MISSOURI: A Scene Report

What is it that you do in a college town? In the middle of the midwest, it isn't so much what there is to do, as what you find to do. Certainly it is that way most places but it all seems more prevalent when the shows that come to town that are worth seeing are all organized by kids that I'm friends with and anything interesting that happens is either by a stroke of pure luck or the fact that someone didn't know what they were doing is cool.

What is good about this town? Well there are some good bands. Any college town has to have a few and we do, from the country rock of the Starkweathers to the garage induced mayhem of the Revelators to the obtuse acoustic stylings of the Northerns and the usual cadre of noise bands like the Carters and Product 19. We try, but it is the best we can do.

The fact that there are about 1 1/4 decent venues in town doesn't make going out very easy or worthwhile. The Blue Note holds about 800 people and uses that to their advantage, and our disadvantage. All of the shows that make it in are big and have to negotiate around the regularly scheduled dance nights every Wednesday and Saturday. Sunday and Monday find the Blue Note almost always closed.

That ends up working out okay now as the 200 person capacity blues club has taken to booking, well, "Alternative" bands on Monday nights. Deep Blues brings in decent local blues acts the rest of the week and the occasional good touring blues act. (OH and Missouri blues acts don't typically match up to those Antone's offers)

After that we really start to fake it. The Grifters had the privilege of playing in one of my friends basements until the cops came. The Fusebox used to book shows in the back of a coffee shop. Now they use various rooms around campus and the meeting room adjacent to the radio station. I've been trying to use University money to book some cool bands, but there's only so much I can do. Although I think I got the New Bomb Turks and Teengenerate to play in either an auditorium on campus or the bowling alley in the main Commons. Either way, it is an example of what we can do and how we make shit up in order to do it.

Last edit over 9 years ago by Jennifer Hecker

Geek Weekly #6

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on the drums during a set. I believe it was Mr. Greg Oblivian's time when the machine fot switched on, leading to Mr. Eric Oblivian's departure from the stage. Mr. Jack Oblivian had been performing a song when Mr. Greg Oblivian began an impromptu hymn to the virtues of the drum machine. "Ladies and gennleman, I just wanna tell ya, this drum machine . . . my favorite thing about this drum machine . . . is that . . . as I'm sure you all agree . . . the best thing . . . is that . . . you don't gotta play 'em yourself. Ya just TURN 'EM ON!" Mr. Jack Oblivian said, "Hey, waittaminnit, Greg Oblivian, this is my song!" Mr. Greg Oblivian had, by then, completely derailed the rock'n'roll show and Mr. Jack Oblivian's guitar rapidly became another noisy element of this weird techno-garage stew. He soon fled for the comfort of the dressing room, guitar in hand, to make noise from its confines. Mr. Greg Oblivian continued to harangue the crowd from onstage. "Ladies and gennelmen, I don't blame my parents for the way I turned out, I blame s'ciety!" He eventually followed his bandmates into the dressing room, mike in hand, to finish his "song." It's worth mentioning that at this point some 80% of the crowd had left, leaving only an amazed and baffled minority. Finally, Jack quit hitting random chords on the guitar and somebody must have distracted Greg from the mike, for all that he could be head was the tinny thump of that five-dollar drum machine. Hands down, the Geek Weekly show of the year for 1997.

Grifters 10.30.97 Fitzgerald's (Houston) and 10.31.97 Electric Lounge

Over the years I've emphasized the crappiness of the Grifters' Austin shows compared to those they've played in Houston. Jennifer and I experienced a near perfect pair of shows in Houston a couple of years ago, one at Goat's Head Soup and another at the Urban Art Bar with the Strapping Fieldhands, and on both tours the Austin shows haven't come near to their Houston counterparts. I have no idea what in the hell causes this. The Grifters are much loved in Austin and they even have a groupie home base of sorts here. A ton of people go out to see them when they play. In Houston this past October, there were about fifty warm bodies in the whole damn bar. Margaret and I felt like we had our own personal Grifters show all to ourselves! Hey, maybe that's what I like about those Houstonshows — but really, this one was truly fine. Full Blown Possession is much more to my liking than Ain't My

Last edit almost 5 years ago by guest_user
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Lookout was and hearing all those tunes live only reinforced my opinion. Of course, they also played "She Blows Blasts of Static," which got me more excited than a roomful of nearsighted Jewish boys. The set was short but sweet, with plentiful traces of that old Grifters feeling present. You know, the way that their good shows feel like watching late afternoon sun coming in through the blinds, illuminating dust and making everything look warm and liquid. Speaking of warm liquids, we got to take Tripp out to the Show Palace Halloween night since it was his thirty-first birthday. Margaret and I dressed as an angel and a devil and once we had a buzz on, we went around giving candy to strangers and asking them which one of us they would pick if forced to choose between good and evil. Before the show, the guys came over to dog in my clothes for some Halloween outfits, and somehow got into the wigs. Oh, man, did they look "rock." The show was a good one, of course, being in Austin it wasn't as great as the Houston shows, but they were in good form and overcame the embarrassment of sharing the bill with a Kiss cover band with aplomb. Margaret and I had a catfight on stage during "Last Chance Re-Entry," as we acted out the battle between busty good and lusty evil for the audience. You know, if you think about it, that's really what the Grifters are all about, you know, good and evil, like, in the context of two large-breasted sisters pulling each other's hair and rolling around on the effects pedals.

? and the Mysterians 2.8.98 Electric Lounge

The coolest thing about this show is that there was a good three months of anticipation before it finally went off. The band was accidentally booked to play earlier, but were reconfirmed later, and ended up playing after most people had totally given up and assumed that their original listing in the paper was all a hoax. In the months before the show I had all manner of daydreams about what the live show of this legendary late-sixties garage band might be like. When I got to the Electric Lounge that night I immediately got this nagging feeling that something a lot weirder than what I had imagined was going to happen. I was right -- too right. First the middle-aged-tie-dyed-t-shirt-wearing guys started comin' in. Not many of 'em, mind you, but man, it was cool to see 'em starin' around, taking in the modern rock scene and crowd. Then came the middle-aged Latino men and women. They were definitely there to rock. Next I saw the merch table. They

Last edit over 3 years ago by whatsnotlost
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