Some call it amateur night…
You know, New Year’s Eve.
To the hardcore drinkers and scenesters it’s a night to make fun of those slobbering fools who can’t handle their shizz getting totally, stupidly wrecked.
"Too many amateurs on the road tonight, I’m staying in," they say. "Those rookies really need to leave the drunk driving to us professionals."
They look disgusted and feel invaded, like they’ve earned the right to party by paying their dues in all the dark, dirty bars seven nights a week. Then their liver jumps out of their chest and strangles them to death…
Saturday, December 31st, New Year’s Eve
Split Lip Rayfield at the Bottleneck in Lawrence
Who here has never seen Split Rip Rayfield? If your hand is in the air, get your ass to the Bottleneck for an old school, Kansas style bluegrass beatdown. Though the band took a hard hit a few years ago with the death of founding member and all around firecracker Kirk Rundstrom, the Rayfield boys have rebounded nicely as a three piece. Lead
man Wayne Gottstine blazes the trail on mandolin with a picking style so fast you can barely see his fingers flying around the tiny frets. If I could move my hand that fast I’d never leave the house.
Expect to hear all the favorites on this night of revelry, including the insanely speedy Record Shop and Old #6, the classic laments Whiskey Is Gone and Used to Call Me Baby, and probably any others you request. These guys are pros, they always aim to please and they put on one helluva good show.
And yes, the rumors are true- Jeff Eaton plays a one string bass that is actually a gas tank from a 1965 Ford. Seriously.
Also on the bill is relative newcomers Dumptruck Butterlips, who are kind of a gypsy hippy new-grass soul kind of deal, with several scantily clad ladies playing everything from the washboard, to the fiddle, to the standup bass (sans gas tank) for your listening and viewing pleasure. Plus a bearded dude. But don’t think this act is all style and no substance. Quite the contrary actually. They’ve been gaining traction on the local and national scene, scoring a slot at Yonder Mountain String Band’s Harvest Festival a couple months ago in Arkansas.
Minden, Capybara, and Ghosty at the RecordBar in KC
Last time Minden played in Lawrence was for the 11.11.11 deal that Jacki Becker put on with, like, eight thousand bands. They were in the cramped and sweaty basement of the 8th Street Tap Room getting ready to come on after some guy who was playing a bongo and rapping about a burrito, I think. I asked Minden’s guitar player what kind of stuff they play, trying to gauge whether or not I should bolt to one of the other venues packed with Jacki’s minions. "Sex music," he replied a little confrontational-like. "Oh, so like, Marvin Gaye?" I pressed. Not exactly.
I think I finally pinned him down with the label of "heavy rock" or something. So I stuck around. And they were good, real good. On their Facebook page they seem to embrace the description of their band as "pop," eschewing the "fresh and cleverly-named genres." Like sex music? Word.
Listen to Minden here: http://www.facebook.com/mindenband?sk=app_204974879526524