Mountain Metal Fest raises a joyous noise
By Chris Cooper
Hold one of your hands up, left or right, whichever you prefer. With your palm facing outward, curl your middle and ring fingers, as well as your thumb, into the palm of your hand, leaving the index and pinky fully extended. You are now making the universal “metal’ sign, similar to the Vulcan “live long and prosper” sign. You may use this particular gesture either in lieu of (or as a precursor to) clapping after a song. If you wish, it can be used to indicate the “metallitude” of someone or something, as well.
Rebel Records roundup
Rebel records, the venerable bluegrass-only imprint that’s as much a home to royalty like Ralph Stanley as it is young upstarts like Steep Canyon Rangers, has issued a slew of fine CDs in the last few months.
Big sounds in this intelligent, intentionally bumpy ride
By Chris Cooper
A rather popular band was recently branded with the criticism of being “a small band trying to sound big.” It’s an interesting idea, because in a different context (and in regards to a different band), it could easily be taken as praise.
An eclectic night at Guadalupe Café
By Chris Cooper
There’s an age-old argument that rears up whenever there are multiple acts on the roster for a show: who goes first? Nobody wants to go first. It’s like being “volunteered” for the chore everybody else skillfully avoided. So what to do when you find your group in this somewhat unenviable position?
Soul Infusion’s fifth
By Chris Cooper
Late Friday night, after the festivities died down and the crickets had begun a serenade for the wee hours, I asked Jason and Karin Kimenker to imagine what they might say 40 years from now about their experience as proprietors of Soul Infusion Tea House. Jason waxed poetic about the whole thing; describing the reciprocal nature of giving and receiving he’s learned from a community he’s grown to love. Karin said she’d just laugh.
Roman Candle’s ‘Wee Hours’ aims for a place in the heart
By Chris Cooper
The best rock album of the year is about to be released. No kidding.
My first encounter with Roman Candle was sometime in 2002. I was slinging beer in a little venue in Charlotte, and the band I was playing with was offered a slot opening for these guys. Of course there was a scheduling conflict, the opening gig fell through, and I wound up bartending the show.
Sweet vinegar sounds
By Chris Cooper
Claiming influences as far apart stylistically as Iron Maiden and Ravi Shankar, Mother Vinegar lean further toward the rocking side of the jam ethic than the majority of their tie-dyed brethren. Off kilter lyrics (understatement?) and a blatant disregard for genre boundaries are the name of the game for these guys, and thankfully their overall instrumental prowess allows them to play musical hopscotch with a minimum of skinned knees.
A gem from Charlotte’s crown
By Chris Cooper
Some songwriters have the gift of saying volumes with very little. They don’t need to spell it out, plaster it with tinsel and candy, and do a little dance to get your attention — it’s as if they really don’t even have to try. It’s a few bars into “Here Tomorrow, Gone Today” that you get the idea that Mike Strauss just may be one of these artists, painting with just a few colors, but always the right ones.
An encore for mama
By Joanne Meyer • Guest Columnist
A soft, spring breeze wafted through the open window, sending a sheer, cafe curtain dancing across the strings of a mandolin leaning upright against the back of a chair. The sound the instrument produced had a startling but enchanting allure. It spoke to me in a voice I had not heard in a long time.
Crafty, curious Codetalkers
By Chris Cooper
To say that Col. Bruce Hampton has carved a colorful swath through the music industry is likely an understatement of considerable proportions. Tossing equal parts Zappa-inspired lunacy, gritty Southern rock, spoken word rants from Mars, gospel, funk, jazz and blues into nearly every recording, Hampton has achieved an instantly recognizable sound in spite of all his stylistic schizophrenia.