So, we were obviously at Richard’s last night, which is a fine place to eat and you should go there. But it’s also the kind of place that, for better or for worse, is getting a reputation for good music. Which means that you’re sitting in there eating your delicious barbecue stuffed shrimp wrapped in bacon over a bed of rice with the largest heaping of vegetables you ever saw laughing at your dad complaining about a lack of zydeco for him to dance to when all of a sudden you see them: The Industry Folks.
I don’t know why it is that you can always spot the industry folks, but you can. Sure, they’re wearing jeans, but they’re just a little too tight or a little too stylish. Sure, their hair says “long and carefree” but with every curl perfectly in place. And when they enter a place, they do that subtle look to see if anyone is looking at them.
I don’t have anything against industry folks, but when they show up, you know a band has buzz and when a band has buzz and there are industry folks, forget about getting your Diet Coke refilled, that’s all I’m saying.
Well, it’s not all I’m saying. I’m also saying this. I hate when you can tell by listening to a band what their pitch is. Not what range they most comfortably sing in, but what the little hook the Industry Person who gets her fingers into them is going to use to sell them to the rest of the company.
Last night, the band that was starting just as we left was Dixie Chicks meets Little Big Town. Which, as you know, is basically Dolly, Linda, and Emmylou meet Fleetwood Mac and if you understand why getting excited in 2008 about that act is somewhat troublesome for me in terms of country music, you’ll understand why I was less excited about the band than everyone else in the restaurant.
But it did get me thinking, what is a pitch that would make you have to see a country act?
For me, I think it’d have to be something like “Hank Williams meets Dave Brubeck” or something that just made you go “What?!” I don’t want a pitch that gestures me to something I can imagine. Gesture me towards something I have to see to believe.
Like that dude who used to play down at the Bluegrass Inn who could play the piano with his butt.
I ask you, once I say “There’s a dude who plays the piano with his butt.” don’t you have to see that?
Granted, I can’t say for certain if there’s piano playing with butt in this video because I can’t get YouTube to work this morning, but you can get a feel for how it might happen.
Filed under: About Town
“Hank Williams meets Dave Brubeck”
Isn’t that Willie Nelson?
And I do so love Willie Nelson.
I don’t know why it is that you can always spot the industry folks, but you can.
Perhaps it’s their uniform of jeans, tshirt and (usually black) sport coat – the sport coat exists to “dress it up”… and the older male ones have the spare tire poking out from said sport coat.
I will continue ignoring country music until the first unabashedly out country star comes along and is marketed as so, which will happen eventually. My family contends we’ve already got that in Kenny Chesney (har har), but I’m talking OUT out, like, on the cover of the Advocate or Out Magazine or whatever, and just being unapologetically gay. That would get me to a country show fo sho.
I suppose there’s some room here for “pitch” jokes here if anyone’s feeling up to it.
It’s the Nashville Hair. That oh so styled, shaggy, swooped, and perfectly unkempt Nashville Hair. I’ve gotten to a point where I can’t help but point it out whenever I see see it. Worst example ever? Brett Manning. Vocal coach to the country stars and judge of the CMT show Can You Duet. Google Image him. Seriously.
Lindsey, does it have to be a star? Can it just be a musician in someone else’s band?
nm, in my fantasy it’s a star. A big huge Tim McGraw-type star. But any musician with big name recognition would be a step in the right direction toward the big huge out star.
R, that kind of hair makes me want to punch little children. Arrrrgh!
Me, too. Lindsey. And maybe part of it is meeting TV on the Fritz, whose life as a gay boy growing up was so different than the lives of gay boys when I was growing up. To think he’d never seen a vagina before! I mean, thank the gods! Because I can’t tell you how much it sucks to be the girl gay boys try to prove to themselves they’re not gay on.
I’m all for a world in which gay boys can be gay unabashedly from the time they figure that out for themselves.
And I know, in my heart of hearts, that a country star coming out–or maybe not even “coming” so much as just being out–would make a world of difference for a lot of young gay folks.