Speaking with new rock nyc writer David Muehlenkemp before he goes on stage to DJ Fuzzy G’s set at another rock nycer, Woody Fullers’s 4Thelovemusic Fest, David expresses his joy at being in New York and in pursuing his dreams of rock music: of immersing himself in a scene and building a scene for himself and his friends.
When summer ends childhood ends and it is time to choose the dream you want for yourself. Stella Celenza, who graduated last year, speaks of living in Brooklyn and wanting to change the world. Sam Miller works the door at Don Hill and starts his freshman year at NYU, Alyson on the West Coast goes back to teaching next week, in a coupla weeks later Mary Magpie is back at High School.
Even Woody is back to school in North Carolina on Monday. Everything changes, summer ends, childhood ends. So here is the last blow out.
Meghan, a comic and MC is pretty damn funny. She tells a killer about a one night stand at the Puerto Rican Parade (“Great day, bad summer” ) and keeps the proceedings moving and much better than her visage might suggest.
If Lonesome Mustang had wanted a worse choice to review their American blues duo, they couldn’t have found it. Of all the major music forms I am least comfortable with blues, and when I do listen to blues I go for Delta and 50s embryonic rock, Robert Johnson on one hand, Howling Wolf on the other.
Lonesome Mustangs is neither, it is an inspired Blacks Keysy ruckus and roar with a lively drummer who can beat the fours to death and a great guitarist (though just pretty good vocalist) who plays the genre very well.
On a song like “I Can Lose It (I’m guessing at song titles here) they begin with a pop hook before battling through to a blues lickarama, all three four notes skidding from one end of the guitar to the other and all hard nut roiling sound machine.
I am thinking Hendrix which is easy to place and Stevie Ray Vaughn which is a little harder.
The problem isn’t the playing, or maybe the blues (except in blinders me a little) the problem is the material needs to be a bit tighter. On a song, maybe a cover, I’m not sure, “Old Woodstock” the Lonesome Mustangs reach a height of intensity and a strong powerful if relatively low key performance I would like to have heard more because this is some promise they’re making.
During the next break I wander the audience and find a very talented artist (picture above) painting near the stage. Woody is putting on one of those kinda nights!! Elsewhere I meet the rock nyc writer’s mother who is very sweet and very charming so now we know where he gets it from. I also speak to Stella, one of Woody’s best friends and a very nice woman but to whom I always seem to be being rude! For one thing, I don’t immediately recognize her and for which I officially apologize and promise to turn on the charm next time our paths cross.
I haven’t seen Fuzzy G since his gig at Bowery Poetry July 4th weekend. The show at Bowery was Fuzzy showing off the depth of his repertoire, his conquering of just about every genre of rock music, his musical IQ. Last night wasn’t that. Last night Fuzzy sized up his audience of coeds and old pals and partied like a maniac on a dynamic set which was firmly set in hip hop.
The give was the missing of his masterful emo hop “The Beginning Of The End”, instead we get the thrilling pop explosion “Optimistically Speaking” where the man can’t stand still. He almost jumps out of his skin with excitement and so dues the audience and not just on this penultimate number.
He wows, wows, the audience, at one point DJ David says from the stage “Fuzzy is killing here”. He was KILLING. After the opening song “Seedless Fruit” he puts down his guitar and leaves it alone for song after song, Even when he puts his guitar back on for a bottle neck bit of show off, he later forgets he has it on at all!!!
It’s alright by me.
This one is for the fan’s and you can count me among them.
Then I leave, just pausing to be a jerk to Stella on my way out.
The night will go on (I think Woody will be writing it for us), but I am a little sad. I hate change and I’ll miss Mr. Fuller.
But he sure knows how to say goodbye. And hello.
Well done, Woody. Now start writing…