Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Jock La Feet --Byline: Chelle La Fleur
New Orleans club fixtures Jock La Feet played The Ninth Street Dive tonight to a packed house. Nothing new there; Jock La Feet is a band that, with a better name, oughta be out there on a bigger scale, sorta like Rat Catcher. I may have only been around this scene for a few short months and may have spent zero time on the far side of the levees, but I gotta tell you, if you don't think that Jock La Feet can compete nationally, you haven't heard Jock La Feet. Which makes me wonder if you're realy dumb enough to think you can read this review and feel like you were there.
After a write-up like that, what I got to say next will make you wonder. And that's 'cause at their record release party last night, Jock La Feet got showed up by this little band from somewhere West of the Mississippi, four dudes who rolled into town in their lead singer's dad's Ford Bronco, with the equally bad name of ShapeShifter and an even worse gimmick, where each band member identifies with an animal.
It's their music that makes these four guys -- two who seem to like their leather pants a little bit too much (was that dinner on them?), and two who seem even more bland than that -- stand out. Nothing could have made New Orleans ready for this band, and as you know, this is a city that's seen and weathered an awful lot.
Opening with "Take the Stage," ShapeShifter erupts with speed and sound, sort of like a meteor if it was racing toward the planet, bound and determined to make contact. And like flying space junk, you can't get away. Believe me, there were a few in the packed club who were dumb enough to try.
From that -- again, horribly titled -- song, ShapeShifter delivered a half-hour's worth of music, almost ten songs in all, and all available on the band's first record. Which, no surprise, they were selling out of the back of Daddy's Ford Bronco until the cops tried to arrest them for not having a permit. (They escaped by skipping town.)
I'm telling you here and now, this is a band you're gonna wanna watch. They got a lot of growing to do before they're half the band that Jock La Feet is, which means they have a ways yet before they're ready to tour like this again. Doesn't matter, though, 'cause they blew Jock and the boys two parishes over.
Remember the name: Chelle La Fleur. I told you here, and I told you first.
After a write-up like that, what I got to say next will make you wonder. And that's 'cause at their record release party last night, Jock La Feet got showed up by this little band from somewhere West of the Mississippi, four dudes who rolled into town in their lead singer's dad's Ford Bronco, with the equally bad name of ShapeShifter and an even worse gimmick, where each band member identifies with an animal.
It's their music that makes these four guys -- two who seem to like their leather pants a little bit too much (was that dinner on them?), and two who seem even more bland than that -- stand out. Nothing could have made New Orleans ready for this band, and as you know, this is a city that's seen and weathered an awful lot.
Opening with "Take the Stage," ShapeShifter erupts with speed and sound, sort of like a meteor if it was racing toward the planet, bound and determined to make contact. And like flying space junk, you can't get away. Believe me, there were a few in the packed club who were dumb enough to try.
From that -- again, horribly titled -- song, ShapeShifter delivered a half-hour's worth of music, almost ten songs in all, and all available on the band's first record. Which, no surprise, they were selling out of the back of Daddy's Ford Bronco until the cops tried to arrest them for not having a permit. (They escaped by skipping town.)
I'm telling you here and now, this is a band you're gonna wanna watch. They got a lot of growing to do before they're half the band that Jock La Feet is, which means they have a ways yet before they're ready to tour like this again. Doesn't matter, though, 'cause they blew Jock and the boys two parishes over.
Remember the name: Chelle La Fleur. I told you here, and I told you first.
Labels: Chelle LaFleur, creative writing, fiction, musicians, ShapeShifter
Comments:
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Ooooh, I like that spunk.
Great intro to Chelle. I like her and I love her tagline... 'I told you here, and I told you first'
Great intro to Chelle. I like her and I love her tagline... 'I told you here, and I told you first'
Cool! I'll have to keep the tagline -- I wasn't sure, especially since she really doesn't tell much in terms of a concert review (like she's supposed to be doing), but she IS full of gossip (was that breakfast on their leather pants?).
I think she'll be fun to play with.
I think she'll be fun to play with.
Jock La Feet? *groan* That's such a bad, bad play on words. So bad, it's good.
Yep, I'm back again. :)
Yep, I'm back again. :)
This is from the Tour Manager, actually. I was trying to come up with a name for a New Orleans band that wasn't totally cliched to the usual NOLA stuff. He suggested I name the band after Jacques Laffite, an explorer.
So I did.
Only now, he's not so sure if that was really the explorer's name or not, and I'm too swamped to take 2 seconds and Google it.
Anyone?
So I did.
Only now, he's not so sure if that was really the explorer's name or not, and I'm too swamped to take 2 seconds and Google it.
Anyone?
So... you're telling me I named a band after a dude who drives cars?
*shrug*
Works for me -- and is even funnier. Jock. (sorta self-explanatory)
La Feet: what you use to drive a car with!
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*shrug*
Works for me -- and is even funnier. Jock. (sorta self-explanatory)
La Feet: what you use to drive a car with!
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