[Carmel, CA]
ElPrimoHaole specifically recommended this I Bar Ranch Tuesday because it was
being crashed by Rushad, a semi-regular visitor to Gunnison and supposedly an
outstanding cellist. His band Tornado Rider seems to be an especial favorite. But
who are we kidding, we would have gone even if it was just another bluegrass
band… oh wait, it was (after Rushad)… because this venue is adorable and
summer’s nigh over in these parts. Turns out, the man was an amazing cellist!
It was punk cello. It hung from him on a pink furry strap and we could see from
the expressive hands of the old farmer in front of us that he couldn’t figure
out what the hell was going to happen to that cello. Well, he slapped it and
beat it and it was really very exciting. There was an instrumental called “The
Witching Hour.” Then he started singing and the tone of the show changed
decidedly. His first song with vocals was “Fluffy Arabian Cat Disease.” It’s a
#1 hit on another planet (he said). He sings in a sing song voice, the sort of
voice you’d hear in kids’ music (and did the kids ever love him). I kept
thinking of the “They're Coming to Take Me Away, Ha-Haaa!” And with ElPrimoHaole’s
tale of kids dancing in a congo line behind him the last time he saw Rushad, I
was reminded of an old Vegas neighbor’s tale of a glorious (to him) They Might
Be Giants concert when the entire audience congo-lined to a flute solo. Rushad
was They Might Be Giants crossed with Dr. Seuss crossed with Frank Zappa. His
lyrics paint big stories about fantastical characters. He used his own sneff (?)
language at times. His sponsor is the Evil Mouselord. I ought to have mentioned
he was wearing diamond-patterned pants and a green pointed hat – somebody,
probably Rockboy, who was acting like a kerplickemoff, called him a Keebler elf
on acid. Frankly, I worried some that he was going to get shot. The I Bar
Tuesday nights attract a rural crowd, who typically expect to hear bluegrass or
the like, and frequently are packing. He was eating flowers and rocks for gods
sake… but the old farmer in front of us was pumping his fist in celebration and
TheOriginalRafter told Rockboy to “stop being afraid of different.” I was
somewhere between the bitter folk and the people chuckling at all of his witticisms
(“I Peed On a Bird” was a hit with the whole audience), but I liked that he
realized he pushes envelopes and even talked about it. Maybe it was part of his
shtick, but he seemed to realize his audience was potentially not ‘his audience.’
He played a classic number midway through because he could tell “we didn’t
trust him.” He told us a story about how his dad changed his name from Bob to
Rabin, and that’s how he ended up the way he is. Despite all the burner-ness, he
was very present with the crowd. And, ultimately, his cellist skills are
undeniable – he can play it classical, fiddly, gypsy punk, kiddy, Spaghetti
western,… He attended the Berklee College of Music and has been associated with
acts who have received Grammys. He’s bringing the cello to the people, and I
think we were lucky to see him. (photo courtesy of Wikipedia)
Comments
Post a Comment