Monday, January 25, 2010
The Spin Chris Crofton's 'Kingdom Come' Stand-Up at The Basement, 1/22/2010
Posted by The Spin on Mon, Jan 25, 2010 at 11:07 AM
Avid readers of The Spin may find themselves asking just how in the hell we managed to be at both The End and The Basement on Friday night. We'll tell you how: We're the gawdamn Spin, that's how. So don't worry about it. We showed up at The Basement just in time to catch an attentive audience checking out all-new material from familiar local garage-rock faves The Clutters, and their set -- raucous as ever -- did not disappoint.
We tried our best to take in a smoke on the patio among a sea of aging hipsters and faded black clothing, but we ended up tripping over loads of names being dropped by someone rehashing a recent trip to Chicago -- did we indeed hear someone claiming to have fraternized with indie god Frank Black? We piped up and turned around to find none other than local celebrity Bobby Bare Jr., who was in attendance to see friends and frequent collaborators Ghostfinger, spilling said names.
Next up was comedian -- and host of the Cream's pride-and-joy podcast, The Chris Crofton Show -- Chris Crofton, who claimed to have jetted into town after a long-ass cross-country stand-up tour. Obviously his tour kept him too busy to purchase new shoes, as the left one was being held together with duct tape. By this point, The Basement was packed full of diehard Croftonites as well as many newbies, including a large-breasted young lady who proudly raised her hand when Crofton asked if anyone was "into anal." We heard she approached him after the show, and the rest is history.
We've seen Crofton's stand-up countless times -- hell, he's played some parties we've put on -- and we'd say it's B-plus at worst. Friday night, however, he was on fire, and the crowd couldn't have agreed more. The concept of explaining Grizzly Bear to black people has never been more entertaining. We know that's right! Crofton was armed with new, well-timed bits and spot-on observations, including this favorite: To paraphrase, Nashville resident Jack White laments over the fact that he can't go anywhere in this town in his matador costume without being recognized, while the legendary Robert Plant seems to make it out to shows, Grimey's and Bongo Java just fine without getting hounded. Oh boy! No more fashion blues 'round here (sex position)!
Sadly, the double vodka-sodas that Geoff generously poured proved too much for us, and by the time Ghostfinger had geared up and sorted out some sort of malfunctioning microphone issue, we found our D.D. ushering us home. We're certain Richie Ghostfinger and his Band of Matts played an exceptional set of hilarious stoner-Southern-blues-rock, but we'll have to take a rain check. The Spin was gettin' the spins.
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