Immortal Lee County Killers with Andy Curran and cadillac Bill and the Creeping bent at the Horseshoe, July 11. Tickets: free. Attendance: 100. Rating: NNN
even more troubling than goingto an Immortal Lee County Killers gig and seeing instead Coney Hatch survivor Andy Curran onstage was discovering that the Horseshoe was double-booked with a skateboard company meet 'n' greet.Of course, Curran's Rammstein-without-the-fire routine was annoying, but at least there was a fixed time limit. The chatty skateboard dweebs just kept yapping and yapping. Such are the drawbacks of no-cover shows.
Sure, the club needs a reasonable draw like Curran to make it feasible to put on a free show with an act of limited appeal like the Immortal Lee County Killers. However, it may be time to consider charging a nominal cover.
Even if it's just a buck, it could help ensure that the people in the back room are there for the music, while cash-conscious sales reps who'd prefer discussing third-quarter marketing proposals all night might see it as more cost-effective to keep their opinions in the front bar area.
Once the Killers got revved up, the blabbering wasn't much of a problem. There may be just two of 'em, but these well-amped Alabama grubs kick up a Razorbacks marching-band-sized racket. That's just what you'd hope to hear from Quadrajets rejects.
Although their aggressive take on Delta punk often draws comparisons to Jon Spencer's Blues Explosion, their sound is much closer to the grunting neanderthal savagery of the early Cramps or latter-day Scientists, especially after the Killers have had their tequila shot inspiration.
A bearded Bossman, strangely set up sideways against the wall stage right, slapped out the joyous beats of a man relieved not to be digging ditches for food, as guitarist Chet "Cheetah" Weise busted out demented slide runs revealing the blessed inspiration of Reverend Utah Smith.
The knee-walking bit was a definite crowd-pleaser, although Weise should look into a longer guitar cord if he plans to keep the table-walking in the act. When you only have a drummer behind you, accidentally unplugging yourself by hopping up on a chair can ruin a perfectly good wallow.