My Songbook, Chapter 4: Asylum Street Spankers
[Originally written on 17 September 2005]
Asylum Street Spankers: Strawberry (Bootleg Series Volume One)
2004, Spanks-a-Lot Records
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With so many bands, either I like them in concert or I like them on album, but I don’t like them both ways. The Spankers are the rare exception for me — their concerts are different from their studio albums, for sure, but I really like both formats, for different reasons. This album, Strawberry, splits the difference: It’s a recorded-live album, from a music festival they played back in 1998, out in California or something. It really captures their live show at its best, I think, although I’ve never been too disappointed with a Spankers show.
No doubt, part of the reason the Spankers have released so many live albums (5 out of their 9 releases, I think, if you count Nasty Novelties and Spanker Madness in there) is that the band does sound very different in the studio. I’m sure people have demanded albums that capture the antics of their crazy live shows. Unlike a lot of live albums by other bands, the Spankers’ live albums do a good job of that.
The Spankers got started right about the time I was moving to Austin, back in ’94 or so. The Spankers were an Austin supergroup because it brought together a bunch of random musicians who had hot Austin music careers going in their own right: Guy Forsyth, the young blues hotshot; Olivier Giraud, from 8 1/2 Souvenirs; Stan Smith and others from the Jazz Pharoahs; etc. As legend goes, these folks had all gotten together at this hotel out in the hill country somewhere (the Dabbs Hotel in Llano, according to the liner notes to Spanks for the Memories). Evening came, and all these folks found themselves hanging out together on the front porch of the Dabbs, singing and smoking and talking about old-timey music. They sang a bunch of songs together that night… and the Spankers were born.
They took the old-timey theme to heart, and to this day, they refuse to use any “demon electricity” at their shows — it’s a bunch of musicians with banjos, guitars, harmonicas, and just about every sort of semi-musical noisemaker you could imagine, playing ‘coustic to whomever is close enough to hear…
Over the years, the lineup of the Spankers has shifted a lot, and there were also some tiffs, apparently. (I suppose keeping a supergroup together is especially challenging.) Tiffs, plus folks getting busy with their own schedules and lives and such. After a couple years, Pops Bayless and Mysterious John split off to form Shorty Long, Olivier left, and Guy Forsyth went back to doing the solo thing. These days, the only original folks are Christina Marrs and Wammo, I think, although you still find Guy Forsyth or someone sitting in from time to time. It’s still a fun show. Amy and I went to see the Spankers at the Saxon Pub not too long ago (a year ago now? oof, time flies) for Stan Smith’s “goodbye” show. His health has been getting worse (liver failure) and he has needed to cut back the gigs. It was still pretty fun, even with many new folks on the roster. Then there was some Spankers show not long ago that advertised itself as “all the original lineup,” so I guess at least some of the water has passed under the bridge.
In the early days, the Spankers would play regular gigs plus a “Sunday Gospel Brunch” at La Zona Rosa. We even went to see that sunday brunch show over our wedding weekend; I think we took Granny Liz to that, it being a gospel show and all. (And who better to appreciate a gospel show than the Southern Baptist grandma?) Part of what made seeing the Spankers so much fun in those days is that you just felt like you were in the presence of greatness. They were all such amazing musicians, and there you were, ten feet away, just basking in their deitous glow. (Is deitous a word?) You felt personally connected to them, just by being there.
And really, if I think about it, I guess that’s a lot of what I find fun about writing down stuff like this, and reminiscing about my little personal connection with bands. Somehow, when I trace my “six degrees of separation” stories from these musicians, it makes me feel like I shared that fun, that coolness, that fame, that glory with them. And who doesn’t like a little rock ‘n roll glory?
That being said, around the time that we got married, Amy and I were on a friendly basis with Stan, because his band, the Jazz Pharoahs, played our wedding. We had lunch with him at the Magnolia Cafe on Lake Austin, and we talked about all the arrangements for our wedding, and had a fun conversation about his life. He was really gracious and friendly, and we got on pretty well. Turns out he had roots in Indianapolis, and had been involved with a couple of jazz clubs there. He and I shared some stories about Indy (since I lived there for a while and my mom still does).
One of the fun revelations from that conversation was that Stan had known Duke Tumatoe pretty well. Duke Tumatoe is one of my guitar heroes, in part because I used to go see him in Indy and Ann Arbor at about the time I started playing guitar. Because he was older and seemed to be having such an amazing time, he was a big inspiration to me. It made me realize that you didn’t have to be a big rock star to have a great time playing music — you could have a hell of a lot of fun playing to twenty people in little clubs. One of my favorite memories from a Duke Tumatoe show was him having this little tiny electric guitar and a really bright headlamp on his head; the band was totally rocking out and he took this long, extended guitar solo while he walked all through the audience and eventually out into the street, just totally wailing on the little thing while he walked around on the sidewalk shining this really bright spotlight on the people walking by. How fun is that? As a little personal tribute to Duke, one of the things I always wanted to do was put a great bar-blues band together and call it Kid Tomato and the Toads, in honor of one of Duke’s early bands, Duke Tumatoe and the All-Star Frogs. (I still might do it.) I even went up to him after a show once to tell him that he was one of my inspirations: “Thanks, I appreciate that. How long you been playing?” “Three months.” “Keep practicing, kid.”
A couple of months after our wedding, the Spankers were on a national tour (!) and they came through Pittsburgh while Amy and I were in grad school there, getting our nonprofit degrees. The Spankers played at Rosebud’s in the Strip District, and of course Amy and I went to see them and dragged as many of our friends as we possibly could to that show. At one point — and how cool is this? — Stan introduces a song with “This one goes out to Amy and Brent. Me and Jimmie Dean and a couple other guys played at their wedding a couple months back. So here’s to the happy couple.” And then they played “Since I Met You Baby,” which is one of our songs…
You know, looking back, that probably came at a really good time for me and Amy. After we got married, we had a lot of big, scary second thoughts about whether we’d made the right decision to marry each other. We couldn’t stand each other a lot of the time, to be honest. That “what have I done?” kind of thing. But I remember dancing together that night while the Spankers played that song, and how amazing and in love I felt. And I still do feel that way when I think about that song. Every once in a while, me and Amy put that on and dance in the living room together. Sure, it’s corny, but is that so wrong?
After the show that night, I got all of the Spankers’ band members to sign my copy of “Nasty Novelties.” I don’t have that many signed albums, but there’s a few that I cherish. My signed copy of Nick Lowe’s “Nick the Knife,” for instance. For my dad’s 60th birthday, which is next month, I bought him a signed vinyl copy of “Blind Faith” off of eBay. It’s signed by all four members of the band: Eric Clapton (my dad’s musical hero), Steve Winwood, Ginger Baker, and Rick Grech. It was pretty expensive, but how often does your dad turn 60? Don’t know if he’ll really like it, but I sure couldn’t figure out anything else to give him.
Anyway, when Wammo signed his autograph that night in Pittsburgh, he wrote, “Brent, Thanks for the blowjob. —Wammo” …And to this day, I still don’t get it. Was he playing off my gushing over the show, calling that a blowjob by analogy? Was he trying to be deliberately offensive? Was he just trying to be funny? I can’t figure it out.
Maybe sometime I’ll take that cd with me to a Spankers show, and ask him what he meant…
17 sep 05
P.S. Here’s the Spankers at the top of their game, performing “Funny Cigarette”
