Wednesday, November 9
Buster’s; 899 Manchester. 8:30 P.M.
For 20 years, the jammiest of the jam bands have toured relentlessly, building the grassiest of grass-roots fanbases. I don’t know anyone who owns any of their albums, nor anyone who can even name a particular song, though I’m sure those people exist. Then again, with music like moe.’s, songs and albums are nothing more than arbitrary divisions of the never-ending groove.
Kentucky Theater; 214 E. Main. 8 P.M.
This show costs $27.50. I bring this up because even though we don’t usually print ticket prices herein—the idea is that the cost of art is irrelevant when considering whether to consume it, and that most shows in Lexington are pretty cheap anyway—this particular price caught me off guard.
Now, I am old, but hear me out: I saw Clapton in an arena, 10-row floor seats, for $22. That’s 22 smackers to sit no more than 30 feet from Slowhand himself. This was 1990, on the Journeyman tour. Nathan East did a haunting “Can’t Find My Way Home” on vocals and electric upright bass. Then Eric encored with “Cocaine.” $22.
And now some band called Beirut is charging $27.50? Then what’s a Clapton ticket these days? $400? A grand? We thought $22 was expensive back then, because we’d only paid $14 to see R.E.M. tour Green the year before. $27.50?
Look, I don’t know Beirut, but I’m sure they’re worth every penny. They’ve been on TV, and the Kentucky is a pretty swank venue all told, so they’re probably great, and they’ll pack the place. But just remember: I saw God for $22.
Thursday, November 10
Green Lantern; 497 West 3rd. 9 P.M.
Editor’s note: this anonymous submission came without mention of the actual band. The editors attempted to contact the author, to no avail. Then they attempted to visit the Green Lantern events page to ascertain the name of the band. Again, no luck. So we don’t know who the band is, or if they’re actually playing this night. But sometimes you gotta take a chance in life, right?
On Thursday this week a band from Dayton, Ohio will be bringing their brand of indie, synthesizer-driven punk rock to the stage. Their distorted vocals remind me of old seventies punk rock, a real snotty we-don’t-give-a-crap-what-you-think-about-us feel. At certain moments their music even seems to take on a very prog-rock sound, with intense melodic textures. I’m especially interested in seeing them live, just to find out how they get all of their interesting sounds mixed so flawlessly. One of the musical influences listed on their web page is video-game music, and you can definitely hear that at times.
At other points there are very haunting reminders of early Nirvana—you know, that underground feeling that hadn’t yet been exposed to the MTV glitz and glamor. This band is a definite treat and you should for sure check them out. Local rock stars the American Werewolves will be opening the show to round out a great lineup.
Friday, November 11
Tall, Dark and Handsome
Natasha’s; 112 Esplanade. 8 P.M.
Traditional American music that incorporates jazz, country, and folk; later in the evening, Natasha’s continues its “Alumni Reunion Party,” celebrating 20 years of food, music, and theater.
Jonathan Sexton and the Big Love Choir
Cheapside Bar & Grill; 131 Cheapside. 9 P.M.
Look: I’m no friend of Jesus. My heart is shuttered to the Holy Spirit. The only time you’ll hear me intone “I am the resurrection” is when I’m singing along with the Stone Roses in the car. And I like it that way.
That said, sometimes that ol’ time religion does provide for some infectious tunes, so maybe it isn’t all bad. For instance, it’s a truism that the funkiest music available, at any given time, on any given set of radio stations, is to be found on the black gospel channel. And who doesn’t love Norman Greenbaum’s “Spirit in the Sky?” It’s a positive, groovy song that just happens to be about Christ. Not obnoxious at all. Of course, one could argue that Creed’s body of work more than makes up for whatever obnoxiousness “Spirit” lacks, but you can always turn the channel.
Anyway, Jonathan Sexton’s music, blessedly, resides firmly in the positive, groovy sphere, and as such may be apprehended by you secular humanists with little trouble. Doesn’t mean you’ll like it—just that the religious bits aren’t overbearing. The music itself is gospel- and blues-inflected rock, sharing sensibilities with Robert Randolph and Derek Trucks on one hand, and early John Mayer and Dave Matthews on the other. And it’s nothing like Creed at all.
Kansas Bible Company
Al’s Bar, 601 N. Limestone. 9 P.M.
Despite the name, the Kansas Bible Company aren’t shilling for the Savior. They’re not even from Kansas. And they have horns, and expansive arrangements. They sound like the lovechildren of Billy Joel and Fee Waybill. Cool.
The Moonshine Millionaires
The Crossroad on Southland; 286 Southland. 9 P.M.
Rockin’ country from Louisville. ‘Nuff said.
Saturday, November 12
Buster’s; 899 Manchester. 9 P.M.
Small towns. Beat-up pickups. Rain. Hickory trees. River bottoms. More rain. Freight trains. Freightliners. Still more rain. Home cookin’. Billy gone off to the service. Jenny run off with that ne’er-do-well. Cornbread. Rusted quarter panels. Yet more rain. Chris Knight’s in town.
Thursday, November 17
Natasha’s; 112 Esplanade. 8 P.M.
Songcraft. That’s what this show is about. Many people can’t recognize it when they hear it; for them, there’s no difference between a disposable piece of pop fluff and four minutes of distilled greatness. As long as I can tap my foot to it, the Philistine thinks, it’s plenty good for me. But you know better. You know what emotion can be wrested from the form. You know the power of a perfect lyrical couplet, can appreciate a sublime chord progression. For you, there’s RB Morris.
The Tin Roof; 303 S. Limestone. 8:00 P.M.
If you’re a college student, you’re probably gonna be at The Tin Roof anyway, so enjoy the show. If you’re not a college student, and you’re over 30, and you’re planning on being at The Tin Roof, then you’re pretty creepy, man.
Which brings me to another point: why do college girls in this town insist on wearing heels when they simply cannot walk in them? Is this a local problem, or a generational one? I seem to remember that when I was in college, girls walked in heels just fine. And when they got drunk, instead of persisting with the endeavor, as local girls do, they simply took them off and walked in stocking feet.
Is it a failure of upbringing? I mean, in the small Southern town where I grew up, girls were taught these things. Guys held doors and said “yes, ma’am” and “no, ma’am” and girls learned to walk in heels. It was universal; even goth chicks with shoe-polish hair and nose rings could walk in heels like they were born in them. Just another sign of the decline of America, I guess. Will the Occupiers address this at some point?