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We love the life we lead -- however degenerate it may seem to everyone else -- but good goddamn were we ready for last week to be over by the time Saturday rolled around. Between the Mercy Lounge's anniversary parties and what seemed like every other venue in town booking great local shows, we had rocked out for seven nights straight and our livers were in need of a breather and a good night's sleep. We weren't about to let a little thing like logic or discretion interfere with our Saturday night, though, so we hopped in the hoopty and headed to The Basement for Glossary's CD-release party for their kick-ass new record Feral Fire.
First up were H.P. Witchcraft, the side project from James "Wooden Wand" Toth, James Robbins and Glossary's own Bingham Barnes that we've grown quite fond of over the last few times we've seen them. Their propulsive, overdriven take on country rock makes us wonder what shoegazers like Ride would have been like if they had more moonshine than mescaline -- H.P. Witchcraft definitely have the "raid your mom's medicine cabinet and go driving with your headlights off" sort of vibe. We would really like to sit down with a Witchcraft album and, um, a water-based tobacco filtration device and really explore the more, uh, cosmic revelations in the lyrics, but we were totally stoked to just drink beer and watch 'em rock out a badass version of John Prine's "Pretty Good."
Up next were Vulture Whale, an awesome yet bewildering band who are definitely from Birmingham, Ala., but sound like they could be from Birmingham, England, with their amped-up mod-pop. Seriously, if we were blindfolded, we would have guessed they were foreigners pretending to be Southerners and not the other way around -- think Billy Childish's first band, The Pop Rivets, but without the disco songs and more Alvin Lee action on the guitar solos. Or maybe the Wedding Present teaming up with mid-period Archers of Loaf. Totes McGoats awesome, if you catch our drift. We're definitely putting Vulture Whale on the short list of must-see out-of-towners now that we know they can rock a party like it's 1967.
By the time Glossary took the stage, the room had reached that perfect equilibrium -- packed, but not so crowded it was uncomfortable; steamy enough for the pipes to perspire but not so hot that anything melted besides our faces. There was definitely a party vibe in the air, with folks dancing and reveling like they were, uh, from some city other than Nashville -- and we don't mean Murfreesboro, we mean a city where people dance and shit. When the band dropped into "Little Caney," it was like we were on Lower Broad and somebody had put "Gimme Three Steps" on the jukebox -- kids just exploding with excitement, singing at the top of their lungs. There were a lot of bro-hugs and beers held high, lots of bellowing lungs belting out the words to classics like "Shout It From the Rooftops." It was a whole lotta rock 'n' roll. There is no band that loves what they do more than Glossary, and damn do we love that.
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"think Billy Childish's first band, The Pop Rivets, but without the disco songs" (?!)
The Pop Rivets were a punk group with one piss take: Disco Fever. Hardly John Travolta.
"There was definitely a party vibe in the air, with folks dancing and reveling like they were, uh, from some city other than Nashville -- and we don't mean Murfreesboro, we mean a city where people dance and shit"
dude I don't know what your talkin about. Murfreesboro will break a leg!