Wednesday, May 19, 2010
The Reverend is in Town.
Rev. Horton Heat
plus: Cracker, Legendary Shack Shakers
Saturday, June 12th 8:00 PM, Doors at 7:00 PM
I am really excited to see the Rev. FINALLY! I've listened to them since high school and I've never been brave enough to see them in person. Now, the weekend the husband is in Vegas, I'm stuck going to this concert alone...unless...
Here is some info on the Rev. and the opening band, the Legendary Shack Shakers.
"Undeniably, The Reverend Horton Heat, aka Jim Heath, is the biggest, baddest, grittiest, greasiest, greatest rocker that ever piled his hair up and pounded the drinks down.
It’s been an almost 20-year journey for Heath, whose country-flavored punkabilly and onstage antics have brought him and his band a strikingly diverse fan base and a devoted cult following, not to mention the respect of fellow musicians worldwide."
Check them out on iTunes here: http://itunes.apple.com/artist/the-reverend-horton-heat/id105453
"The Legendary Shack Shakers’ hell-for-leather roadshow has earned quite a name for itself with its unique brand of Southern Gothic that is all-at-once irreverent, revisionist, dangerous, and fun. Led by their wildly charismatic, rail-thin frontman/blues-harpist, J.D. Wilkes, the Shack Shakers are a four-man wrecking crew from the South whose explosive interpretations of the blues, punk, rock and country have made fans, critics and legions of potential converts into true believers. With the recent addition of former Jesus Lizard guitarist Duane Denison (Hank III/Tomahawk) and drumming wunderkind, Brett Whitacre, the Legendary Shack Shakers have quickly become known for providing some of the best entertainment (live or otherwise) that you can get for your hard earned money." In 2007, writer Clive Young said, "bandleader Colonel J.D. Wilkes unleashes a bizarre blues- and bluegrass-fueled hallucination of the South with Swampblood, an off-kilter portrait of a rotting, morbid world where no one trusts the guy with an education, murder’s around the dead tree-lined corner, and God and the Devil may be one in the same. Diving so deep into a warped vision of ethnic subculture, the disc occasionally feels like-go out on a limb with me here-a Southern-fried answer to Oingo Boingo’s 1985 Dead Man’s Party album (particularly on tracks like “Down And Out”), finding both sets obsessed with death and dying, moral quandaries and the decay of the soul."