Thursday, June 1, 2006

Spank Me Again

Concert Review

By Dan Gattuso

You haven't experienced the ability of music to transcend boundaries and realize that genre is just a state of mind until you've heard a guy with a mandolin performing Nine Inch Nails' "Animal" while his band mates make barnyard noises behind him.

Trust me—it works.

Rewind about 12 years, when the all-acoustic Asylum Street Spankers became a semi-regular ritual for me and countless other Austinites every Wednesday at, ironically enough, the Electric Lounge.

Founded by bluesman Guy Forsyth, country slam poet Wammo and sultry chanteuse Christina Marrs, the Spankers quickly pulled in musical talents from other bands around town—including jazz greats Stanley Smith (clarinet) and Olivier Giraud (guitar, founder of 8½ Souvenirs), flat pick guitarist Josh Arnson, banjo impresario Pops Bayless and vaudevillian barker Mysterious John—all dedicated to producing a musical sound at once old and new. No electricity allowed.

With such an eclectic group of musicians, the shows and sounds were always different from week to week and the hardest question to answer when trying to recruit a new fan was, "What kind of music is it?"

Fast forward to Saturday night at J&J Texas Roadhouse and Blues Bar in Ft. Worth, and that question is still every bit as impossible to answer. Is it blues? Yes. Is it jazz? Yes. Is it country? Yes. Is it folk? Yes. Is it– well, you get the idea.

But things have changed as much, if not more so, as they've stayed the same. Most notably, electricity is no longer vilified, violating the group's original credo. The Spankers have plugged-in, sort of, amplifying their vocals and the instruments with fiber-optic headsets and standing microphones.

Now just a six-piece band (many of the original members opted not go on tour several years ago when it was decided the group should expand its horizons beyond Austin), it seems like the Spankers have had more faces come and go than Joan Rivers.

But co-founders Wammo and Marrs are still there (Smith would be if he weren't on dialysis and unable to tour), anchoring the band through memorable tunes like "Beer," "Wake and Bake," and "Winning the War on Drugs" from their "Spanker Madness" album, an ode to favorite recreational pastimes.

Their following album, "My Favorite Record," also got some play Saturday night, including the title track, the ruckus 1920s-sound of "Monkey Rag" and the jazzy "Breathin'," featuring Marrs' perceptively soulful vocals—some things thankfully never change.

And then there's Wammo. With the help of fiddler Sick (who has been given more of a front-man role thanks to his great personality and showmanship), Wammo's ingenious fusion of the country-western murder ballad and gangsta rap, "Hick Hop," has become a crowd favorite with good reason. Again, trust me—it works.

The show was unusually light on some of their more popular tunes, particularly the bluer numbers. Missing were crowd pleasers like "If You Love Me (You'll Sleep on the Wet Spot)" and "The Scrotum Song," because the Spankers were introducing some new songs from their upcoming children's album. No kidding.

Marrs led a touching cover of Harry Nilsson's "Think About Your Troubles" and a sweet but unpolished original tune called "Sidekick." Of course, most enjoyable for the kids, no doubt, will be the highly educational "Boogers" from Wammo.

Another new tune from Wammo, not to be found on the kids' record, was a reworking of "Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Old Oak Tree" entitled "Stick Magnetic Ribbons on Your S.U.V.," a song that went over surprisingly well in the land of trucks and Suburbans. Then again, alcohol does a fine job of washing away all our hypocrisies.

I can't lie to you—I have a soft spot in my heart for the original group. Since their split, I've gone to shows whenever and wherever I could (Austin, Dallas, Washington, D.C.), always entertained, but always longing for the old days. The absence of clarinetist and scat singer extraordinaire Stan Smith is deafening, and Guy Forsyth was the rug that tied the room together.

The experience may not be what it used to for an old-timer like me, but the musicianship is still second to none, and there is simply nowhere else to hear music like this—not just their indefinable fusion of styles, but straight-up jazz, blues and country from the time of our grandparents.

If you're a music fan of any kind, you're doing yourself a disservice if you don't catch the Asylum Street Spankers the next time they come through town.

Trust me.

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