Author Archives: zombie rotten mcdonald

Come and see us, after the rain

The Mekons seem to have built themselves for a pandemic. They live scattered across the planet, and do not get together until they feel the need for recording music. And after the plague rolled in, they felt the need to make new music and did so from all the various remote locates, winding up with a final effort by a limited number of band members, working in an isolated studio in the middle of the southwestern desert.

The result is an album, that mixes the expected folk-punk, with spare, isolated noise work that sounds like Grateful Dead at the same time as the Meat Puppets. It channels the wide lonesome sound of the desert with the unnatural ability to construct great songs. And it was done with much of the work being done with ad hoc recording instruments around the world, sent to a central mixing wizard. And they did it like it was natural. OK< I love this band, but their ability to rise above roadblocks is fucking stellar.

Obviously, this blog will continue to be somewhat inoperative for some time. I have tickets that are ostensibly valid for next year some time, but we will see how THAT goes.

Before shutdown, we saw a They Might Be Giants show which was just as much fun as you would expect. And I also saw a Jon Langford/Sally Timms show that included a guest appearance by the amazing Bethany Thomas, which was amazing fun.

So, what happens for someone like me, who lives to see live music?

Well, the reciprocal thing is that most musicians also live to play live for us. In addition to the financial hit they have, they also seriously miss the emotional live connection.

And they are trying to reach back out.

Emma Swift/Robyn Hitchcock do a weekly subscription live show. Ramblin’ Deano has been working on different ways of playing that works with his life and schedule.

And bands continue to release new music. Bob Mould. Blue Oyster Cult. The Eels. Brian Fallon. Springsteen. Soul Asylum. The Mountain Goats. Something to Do. Tawny Newsome & Bethany Thomas. Drive By Truckers.

One of my older Imaginary Digital Friend who now seems to have ghosted (as opposed to zombied) use to always say about me that if he cut me, I would bleed music. But I think he has that basically backwards. We get music because the musicians can’t help but put music out.

Also, because this song just kills me every time.

so, anyone who still pays attention, just be patient. WILL BE BACK.

Retreat from Memphis

The pandemic has all of us on our fucking heels, it does.  Even if it didn’t cause you to lose your income, it either makes you limited to your residence (however limited in size, or not) or desperate for human contact and time outside, especially as the weather is becoming nicer.

We are extremely fortunate to be able to work from home, and although I have commandeered a big chunk of the dining room table while I do so (Wife Sublime has a dedicated office) we are still not aggravating each other to the point of this:


That was a guy up the block from us who had taken his wife hostage with a gun.  I fear this will become more and more common as time goes by, and close quarters create high tension, and there are far too many households with hard weaponry.

But that is not what I am hereI am here to  to talk about.  I’m here to talk about the draft. Wait.  Let me get a new drink.

I am here to talk about music.

Our last concert was March 5, at the Pabst Theater. They Might Be Giants, and even then I was starting to be concerned about the large numbers of people.  It was however, a great show.

Not long after that, we were scheduled to go to Costa Rica on a tour, and two days before, the tour company canceled all trips.  I was a bit relieved, I admit, because while I was concerned about the travel environments of airports and airborne death tubes, I was more concerned that during our trip, Trump would lock us out.

Not long after that, the NBA shut down.  A friend and I had tickets for Tame Impala at the Forum, which has been rescheduled.  We had tickets for the Mountain Goats, which has been postponed.  We also had tickets for Roger Waters, and he rescheduled his entire tour for next year.  All of our typical theater has been canceled.

Almost all of the ethnic festivals that happen in our summer are being canceled.

But the crowning jewel in our summer festival schedule, has been ostensibly rescheduled for several weekends in September  You and I, let’s just roll the fucking bones whether that happens or is canceled.

So, for the foreseeable future, this blog is likely to see nothing happening, no action below the belt, as Langford says during one episode of the weird as fuck tape Mekons New York.

It is very weird to look forward to no actual shows.  Some of my musicians are putting shows on from their living rooms basements, and totally vacant stages online.  I applaud them.  But it’s not good enough.

It will be a while, I guess, before I have better updates hereabouts.  But there is not real idea when that might be.

Be well. Be safe.  Stay home.

Good Night for Bad Decisions

Ooh, Friday.  Remind myself that this is the onset of the Last Weekend; As Something To Do says, “Everything ends it’s a simple fact…” and by Tuesday, I am going to be feeling like something is missing.

But today, everything was in place.  Favorite bands at the fest, and we went down a little early to catch a band at the Rebel Stage, the Roving Scallywags.  Somewhat predictably, the stage was behind schedule and we had to leave to get good seats for the next band, on an adjacent stage.

But at the Rebel Stage, were some friends who knew that they were likely to find me there.  They are smart friends!  So we all wen over to the next stage, and got front row seats for Something To Do.


They’ve got a new album out (Design For Living) and haven’t been to Summerfest for a couple of years.  They looked snappy in their tradition ska two-tone clothing, and the horn players were peppy.  In fact, I could never get a picture of them all jumping around, because they were moving to fast for me to get my phone out….

More friends showed up during the show, and we all pop-ska rocked the afternoon way.  Later, after a pitstop, we hung out at the merch tent chatting with the band.  Next up they will do a nice long set at Bastille Days, where they become French.

Since we had a decent group that hadn’t seen each other in a while, we went to the rooftop deck at Water Street Brewery where I had a delicious Midnight Lager, and we argued about things like the Brewers and the streetcar.  I, of course, as the only resident of the city proper, was in firm favor of the streetcar, while the guys who lived in the suburbs thought it was a waste of money.  Huh.  Who could have predicted that?

And while I am asking questions, why was I the only guy who brought his wife along?

After a bit of this, we rolled back to the Rebel Stage where a pirate-punk-Irish band called Brave the Sea was scheduled.  Of course, the stage was still running way behind, so the other guys who had more of a drive home, headed out after hugs and kisses.

We hung for Brave The Sea and they turned in an energetic, if shortened, set of punky Irish sea chanty-shouty ….things.



We were looking forward to Whiskey of the Damned, of course.  It seems like everybody else was, too:


The stage area filled in as much as I’ve ever seen it.  people standing on tables, out in the circulation path, on the rocks….everywhere nearby.

Then the band started.

The sound was awful.  It started out with feedback that couldn’t seem to be tracked down, so the volume was turned way down and the packed bodies made everything mushy and indistinct. By mid-show, the sound had improved to barely tolerable.  It had gotten chilly, though, and since we couldn’t see the band OR hear them, there seemed little point.  so we pulled the rip cord and headed home.  We had seen them play better AND louder, and we knew we would see them again somewhere; best not to taint the good with a one-time bad performance.

It was still a good day at Summerfest.


Wait So Long

Well, that escalated ….OK, not quickly, it kind of took all day.

I decided to go down for lunch, and there were a couple of things to watch for entertainment.  I rode the bus, and it was Children’s day, so free entry (I have the 11 day pass, so whatever, but still cool) and definitely needed a Martino’s Chicago Dog.  Got a beer and Ate it while watching the First Robotics demonstration.  WOW that was good.


I want another one RIGHT NOW

I remember Pat McCurdy when he fronted a New Wave band, the Men About Town.  That was a long time ago, and they lost (barely) to Sawyer Brown on Star Search, so he abandoned the Rock Dream and since then, he’s been mining a solo sardonic music comedy show.  As he says on stage “it’s a ridiculous way to make a living, but I’ve been doing it a long time and I have a house!”  So I usually see him once a year at Summerfest, he has been there almost as many times as Sigmund Snopek.  I watched him for a while and had another beer.

Also, walked through the merch building.  No good t-shirts this year, but I got a pin and some nice fridge magnets.

Next, I went way north on the grounds and found a local band I hadn’t heard of, the Gleasons; an Irish-Americana-rock outfit that sing songs about Wisconsin and Ireland and drinking beer.  Sign me up!

From there, I rambled one stage over for the Whiskeybelles.  We first saw these ladies at Locust Street Festival of Art and Music, sitting right in front.  They are amazing; doing country acoustic versions of covers and originals with an infectious charm and enthusiasm for, yes, whiskey.  They even sell a flask!  As ever, they were great fun, with an excellent cover of Ring of Fire and a set-closing All Along The Watchtower.

At this point, my wife showed up and at the end of the set, Kyle.  Kyle doesn’t get to Summerfest too often anymore, so we make the most of it.  We got some Famous Dave’s BBQ, and then moved on.

We rolled down for a bit of Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band, who are fun in a back porch country blues kind of way.  He also thanked Summerfest for a slot in 2007 that got double-booked, allowing them a slot opening for Flogging Molly (I was there).  He also said “This is the kind of band you’re dealing with; we’ll set our friends on fire”. But my wife traded the washboard for a violin at the neighboring stage, a bluegrass band from Madison called Wheelhouse.

Now, this was probably my mistake in going over the schedule, because I forgot that we saw, and liked, Wheelhouse last year with Paleotectonics.  Now the important thing here is to remember in addition to being an excellent band, they have their own whiskey.

We parked for the remainder of their set, and Kyle had to leave.  Like I said above…. Wheelhouse finished their set with a rollicking cover of “Comfortably Numb”.  No really!

Let’s keep in mind at this point it was only 7:30.  I went over to an adjacent stage, where Jason Isbell was slated to play later, but the stage was MUCH bigger and seemed to be filling up pretty well already.  So we stayed where we were at, where we had snagged a pretty sweet table location.

So we were camping out for the headliner, and Dead Horses came on.

Dead Horses is a local band (again!) based on the songwriting of Sarah Vos and a tumultuous childhood and young adulthood, including losing friends to heroin (thus, ‘Dead Horses’).  A band I had not heard locally, but they’ve been receiving accolades and it was about damn time I rectified that, don’t you think?

At first I thought the music tended toward the mopey, but as I listened closer, I could see the depths waiting below, like it was a calm day on Lake Michigan, concealing the power waiting below.  By the end of the set, I was strolling to the merch booth, looking for at least the latest CD “My Mother the Moon”.  Alas, all they had were t-shirts, so I rectified it on my computer when I got home.

After this was another band, regional this time, that I like quite a bit:  Trampled by Turtles from Minnesota.  I first became aware of them when I stumbled across “Wait So Long” video on the internarfles, which became one of this songs you kind of ignore at first, then perk up somewhere in the middle when it really grabs your attention and then you have to listen to it four or five times.

Story has it that the band formed when the singer’s rock band equipment was all stolen except for his acoustic guitar; when he looked for people to join his new gig, he looked for people who also were not traditionally folk or bluegrass artists (the villain player was a drummer in a thrash band), and the band hit the stage like they were a thrash band.  Thrashgrass.  violent, frantic and propulsive, they refused front lighting so we could hardly see them or what they were playing.

For the entire set, they barely slowed down, once or twice, allowing me to sits my poor feet.  They played a short encore, featuring Petty’s “You’re So Bad” and another slower song to calm everyone down; my wife said “they probably shouldn’t even come out for an encore, they are probably exhausted”.

But they finished their set with that song that got me started, and holy shit I had forgotten how much I like this band:

We went home.  I went to bed.  Dammit.

That, I think, may have been the longest day I’ve ever spent at Summerfest.  I didn’t put a stopwatch on it (because Summerfest!) but it was 11 hours, give or take.  I saw seven bands and a bunch of robots.  I am glad we stayed, because HOLY SHIT Trampled by Turtles are really damn good.  But although I am not a youngster any more, I can still run the race with them, even if I don’t sprint.

Oh, and since the day was cloudy with possible sprinkles, I forgot sunblock.  So it got warm, humid and sunny, as it will.  Although it usually happens earlier in the run, as they say in Shaun Of The Dead, I’ve got some red on me.

Rain In The Summertime


I was sitting on the dining room table, writing yesterday’s post, when I saw a post from the Rebel Stage and realized that I wanted to see two of their artists in early afternoon.  As an independent stage, their  schedule is not dictated by the Overlords Of Summerfest, but it is also not part of their app schedule, so you have to figure it out.  Anyways, Wife Sublime was so excellent to drive me down so I could see a solo set from Eoin McCarthy and one from Andrew Weber, both from Whiskey of the Damned and dammit you should know that damn band.

I spent a fair amount of time there, and got to know many artists.  Because musicians are beautiful people.  But after a while, I had to bail so I could go get a place for Roger Clyne, who is also an artist nobody (other than mikey) knows.  And that is kind of when the rain started, on an off-and on pattern.

Roger was awesome, and I think he was better than when we saw him last year, but maybe that was because I was right up front:


And then it started raining with more enthusiasm.  Roger said “in Arizona we consider rain to be a blessing”.  Sorry, buddy, but in Wisconsin we find rain to be a pain in the ass and it tends to dilute our beers.

We sloshed over to the stage where the Wooldridge Brothers was supposed to play, and they were scrabbling to recover from the downpour.  It took forever, and the band (a large band, 7 piece) were considering playing without monitors but they managed to get the magic in place, to allow them to play a hard and fast half hour set.


Hilariously, their bass player Jack Rice immediately scampered to the neighboring stage, to play with Radio Radio, a local new wave cover band.  After much mopping, the band managed to play the first Cars album front to back (with extras) and a couple of good augments.  But I felt like the Cars themselves probably were not as good.  And certainly, they never had an ASL interpreter as part of the show….


After this, I needed to buoy my glucose, and so I got a couple of tacos, and then we wandered for a bit, but hangin long enough to see Pat Benatar or Rick Springfield was, for me, a difficult sale.  So we bailed.

The Legendary Band (That’s Still Together)

As I said a post or two ago, I was pretty much decided that I would skip this day because of the heat.  But then, Mike Benign posted on Facebook that the heat was not so bad with a decent breeze.  Then, I reviewed a bunch of his, and Trapper Schoepp’s songs.  And so THIS is what I posted in response:  ” I was gonna skip it because of the heat, but listened to a couple of your songs, and some of Trapper’s, and said “Dammit! I’m going!” About to get on the bus…

So, this was the view as I waited for the bus:


yeah, It’s a Beautiful Day….

So, my timing was perfect, even counting being buttonholed on the approach street by a contractor I work with (who laughed at me because I didn’t recognize him in normal person clothes), and I rolled in with enough time to piss and buy a beer.

I’ve been seeing Mike Benign in bands since I came to Milwaukee.  IN college, one of my friends (Scary Joe) did sound for most of his bands until Joe moved east. Although I don’t recall seeing Mike in his first band, Umbrella Man, I was an Early Adopter of his follow up; Arms And Legs And Feet.  They had a complex alternative sound that owed not a little to early Talking Heads and as an English Major, Mike’s lyrics were dense and complex.  Also, Mike’s voice tends to be kind of mid-range and broad, so Joe’s mix to bring the vocals up without obscuring most of the instruments was crucial.

This became even more important in Mike’s next band, Blue IN The Face.  They were more pop-oriented, and they added a three piece horn section so the mix was much more difficult.  At this point, we all suddenly had careers and families and Mike hung up his rock jock.  For a while…

After his kids were grown a bit (I met his kids yesterday at the show) he returned with The Mike Benign Compulsion, and last year returned with “Kid” easily one of the best local releases of the year (As I told him last year at a show, I have to give the top spot, however, to The Wooldridge Brothers’ “Starts At Dusk”.  He agreed).

So yesterday they had a tight 60 minute late afternoon slot at a stage where many of the crowd were waiting for Phil Vassar to headline later.  Mike said from the stage “I know you people don’t know these songs” to which I said to no one in particular “Some of us know these songs” and a young man sitting in front of me said “I’m his son, so I know these songs TOO Well”.  I replied “Maybe some of us are sick of these songs, huh?”  He laughed and knocked his beer over.

Mike’s set tended toward his brighter and more accessible songs, like “Haley Daley” and “My Michelle”.  There was mention of their drummer, who is going for rotator cuff surgery and this is his last show for a while.  There was a shoutout to a particular zombie, as a stalwart supporter of local music.  Mike’s daughter & wife were celebrating their birthdays, and his is on Wednesday.

And we all had a wonderful time.


It is an odd year, as evidenced that I skipped Opening Day, and further shown by it took until this, the fourth day, for me to spend any time at my favorite stage, The Rebel Stage.  Caught the end of Pretty Beggars and most of The Young Revelators.  None of you hav ever heard of those bands; hell, I never have.

Trapper Schoepp was playing at the worst stage on the grounds.  The miller stage is too flat, the seating has no dish to it at all, and the seating bleachers are unnecessarily long.  It seems to attract the kind of people who feel like they have to stand on the bleachers even if they can see fine and even if they don’t care about the band that’s playing.

I saw Trapper the first time several years ago in a sparsely attended mid-afternoon slot that completely blew me away.  They had an self-released album at the time and an indie release that re-released about half of the first.  They had all the fire and spit of a band of kids that had nothing but energy and passion and, apparently, a tremendous gift for songwriting.  Been a fan ever since, and a high point was when I traveled to Minneapolis to visit Snag and Paleo and see a star studded tribute to Big Star at First Avenue.  Guest musicians at that event included Trapper and Tanner Schoepp as well as Brian and Scott Wooldridge.  Who I am seeing at Summerfest today.

The first part of the show was devoted to Trapper’s concept album about Green Bay’s legendary amusement park, Bay Beach.  Where Elvis reportedly hired for an entire night, and spent from 1 AM to 6 AM riding the Zippin Pippin nonstop.  But after this, the show really took off as they played some of their best, including “Tracks”, “Mono Pt. II”  and “Settlin’ or Sleeping’ Around”.

During “Settlin'”, a little kid, wearing a “Rock Kid” shirt,  adorably took the stage with a ukulele strung like a guitar and sat in on the song.  He was amazing!  He not only had the strum pattern down, but he knew a fair amount of the vocals and had his own rock moves, kicking and doing rock poses at the front of the stage to delighted roars of approval from the crowd.  I could only get a pic from the screen:


Their set was a bit short, as they had to clear the stage for Third Eye Blind (pfagh).  Admittedly, most of the crowd was there to see them as headliners.  Meh.  I bailed, but not before spending a little time talking with a friend:


And with that, satisfied, I called it a night and left, but not before running into friends Pete and Deb at the front gate.  no time for anything but hugs, they were coming in and I was going out, but it’s always good to see the Ramirez’s.  And I am sure we all had a wonderful time.

Also worth a mention is that Summerfest has partnered with Uber to set up a pickup/drop off zone not far from the main gate.  For the number of rides they have to wrangle it is impressively run, where they align available drivers into several rows, and you just have to walk down your assigned row to find your driver.  Rather than trying to scurry around adjacent streets to locate someone.

The Best Years Of Our Lives

Friday came in hot, like a flaming trash truck.


but the Big Backyard stage had booked a day-long reggae fest, with the bands until the 10 PM headliner all being Wisconsin bands.  So, what could we do?

We made it down for the Tritonics at 2.  They were pretty damn good, with a nice mix of originals and covers.  They even did an instrumental dedicated to local dive bar Circle A where I saw Deano Waco a couple of weeks ago.

Next up was a wide-ranging touring band called Unity the Band from the Fox Valley.  The band was from all over, and the singer from Fiji.  The bass player had a severe case of Bass Face:


The singer tried like hell to convince us, over and over, that reggae music was comprised of every other musical style including bayou blues and disco.  He didn’t convince me.  But the music was still really good.  But he also kept re-iterating that the music was about love and, yes, Unity.  Also, some really cool reggae-fied covers, like Down Under and All Along The Watchtower…

As such a hot day, we elected to go with Lienie Summer Shandy and although this is not to be considered an ad or an endorsement, this was a relatively light weiss style beer with lemon citrus flavorings that went down pretty well on a hot day.  However, after a few of this mixed up with straight water hydration, I was kind of sloshing like a goatskin.  So my only recourse was to tamp it down, and Water Street Brewery had just thing; they have a new beer this year, Midnight Lager, and it is fucking DELICIOUS.  It’s a Guinness-style beer with a rich thick foam head, and it tastes good warm so the warm weather worked in its favor.  A couple of this made all the other beers behave….

Next up was local long time stalwarts Kojo.  I remember the first time I saw this band, many years ago, and how muscular and beautiful the music was.  And that’s why when they started with three muted, mushy sounding songs made us blanch and nearly made us wander off.  “Wait” I said.  “She said this is the last (whatever) song before they kicked it off.”  And they did, and at the end of this misguided mess, the drummer kicked it in and like a shot of nitro in a car, it woke up the elderly lead guitarist and kicked the band into the stratosphere.

THIS was the band I remembered.  Every single member sang songs and they, like every other band, alternated between originals and covers, and announced the origin locale of each song, taking us on a trip around the country and around the world, ending, of course, in Jamaica.


King Solomon had the ‘official opening slot’ at 8 PM.  Stu, the lead guitarist is a friend who we met on a trip to Ireland – our kids knew each other from Little League and grade school.  I shouted “HI!” at him, but never managed to see his wife, who I apparently barely overlooked because I walked right in front of her.

The band was blisteringly hot (in both meanings), and very loud.  In addition to several singers, they had a ‘toaster‘ who is from Ocho Rios and sounded like Cookie Monster when he wasn’t singing.

They added a guitarist and a pair of sax players for the show, which made them sound HUGE.  And I had only seen them on the stage of a local bar, where they were pretty cramped, but even with the added members, it seemed like they were miles from each other on this full-sized stage (Stu is on the far left):


There was a HUGE enthusiastic crowd for them, far exceeding what I expected.  I know they’ve been playing out quite a bit, but it was still impressive.  And the audience seemed to spur the band to higher effort; in particular, Stu’s solos were RIGHTEOUS.

But at this point, we had been sitting in the heat watching an all-day reggae party for 8 hours or so, and I was seriously flagging.  I called for the escape hatch, and glad I did; our choices were Third World or Social Distortion, and both of them were going to be standing events, with a massive exodus mob at the end.  But it served; I woke up today without aches in my feet and back, and feel like I can tolerate another day in the heat.

It was a completely awesome and enjoyable day, heat or not.  The bands were all simply great, as good as anything I’ve seen and I’ve seen Ziggy Marley, UB40, and Steel Pulse.  The crowd was cheerful and polite and enthusiastic and were all receptive to the messages of inclusion and peace that the bands felt like putting out.

Throughout the day, although the Orange Motherfucker’s name was never mentioned, the message was clear from every band:  Resist, keep resisting, love each other, find joy where you can, and work to make the world better. Kojo ended with a rousing version of Get Up, Stand Up, and the crowd understood, singing and shouting along.  The bands and the crowd were completely multi-cultural, and we were all in love, at least for one day.

The Rhythm Of The Heat

A quick update for the fourth day of Summerfest.

It is likely I will not go, even though two favorite bands, Mike Benign Compulsion and Trapper Schoepp are playing.  It looks like the temps in Milwaukee may top 100 degrees today, and without a wind off the lake, it is hard to take.  Further updates as events warrant.

And on a downer note, esteemed science fiction writer Harlan Ellison died this week.  Writer of A Boy And His Dog, the best damned movie Don Johnson ever made, and thousands of other things, including short story anthologies Dangerous Visions and Again, Dangerous Visions.  Driftglass has a wonderful remembrance at the beginning of the Professional Left podcast, available on iTunes or here.

To end on a better note, here are videos of the two bands I would go see today, if I was seeing bands today:



Dammit, now I think I’ll go.

Up On The Sun

Well, that was unexpected.

We knew that this Thursday was going to be an Impossible Day.  Too many bands, too many overlapping slots, spread out over the entire grounds and the entire day’s schedule.

It was Throwback Thursday, and beers were half priced until 6 PM.  The first throwback band was the northernmost stage, a Milwaukee bunch from the 80s, X-Posed 4-Heads, a new wave outfit that had local hits like “Nice Guy” and a very fervent appreciation for the B-52s and Devo.  They even did a cover of “Whip It”!  They did it good!


I bought what will become my favorite shirt, from the excellent Rebel Stage:


Then we slopped down to the southern edge of the grounds to a covered pavilion for Pet Engine, a local alternative power pop band from the 90s, who put in an energetic set and even brought out Posies Ken Stringfellow and Jon Auer to help out on a couple of songs.  At this point I discovered that local brewpub Water Street Brewery was offering a new beer called Midnight Lager, a Guiness style concoction that was fucking delicious.

Next Up was Matthew Sweet.  As I told my buddy Zelmo, there’s no way he approaches the level of when we saw him do all of Girlfriend from right in front of the stage.  But he was pretty good, if a bit by-the-book and he didn’t say very much.  Spent a lot of time facing his amp, shunning us like a cat.


Next we moved BACK north, just past the midpoint, to another covered pavilion to see former Milwaukee boy Kevn Kinney and his band Drivin’ n’ Cryin’.  He name-checked a few passed Milwaukee musicians and landmarks, including Kenny Baldwin and the Starship; but mainly he seemed to be content to largely channel the barf ‘n’ boogie southern crunch rock stylings of his adopted hometown.  I have much more appreciation for his folkish and country and punk leanings, so I was a bit disappointed.

At this point, we headed toward the Rebel stage, but since we were eight people at that point, the Physics of Summerfest (specifically the Rule of Six) took immediate effect and as soon as we left the pavilion, the group split up.  And then we got to the Rebel Stage to discover that their last band started at 8, and they were breaking down.  I warned these guys, but you know how people feel about experts.

BACK NORTH again.  We wound up at the northernmost stage for 2 George Thorogood songs.  He was….well, what do you expect from Thorogood?  That’s what it was.  So….on we go.

Back to the mid-point pavilion for the Meat Puppets.  The place was so empty (although it filled up later, with pleasingly energetic youngsters), we felt kind of sorry for the band.

I had seen the Pups quite a few years ago, at a 300 seat club, and they were so blisteringly good, the songs filled with desert and psychedelic vocals, and the solos swooping, soaring and stabbing directly into my brain.  It made me feel like I was tripping, just from the music.

This night was almost as good, the band was so tight. The rhythm section kept things completely together while Kirkwood and the keyboard player wove instrumental tapestry around each other.  And the only time they properly ended a song, rather than just decaying into feedback and guitar solo feeding into a new riff, was at the end of the show, when they made about seven false stops to “Lake Of Fire”.


They played my Favorites;  Backwater, Sam, Coming Down, Up On The Sun, Plateau…they tore the paint of the place, then painted it back with the colors of the desert.  I had a vision of Curt Kirkwood, living in a run down ranch in the middle of nowhere, walking out onto his porch naked and playing these songs for about twelve hours at ear-splitting volume into the desolation.

And that was it for Thursday.

So here’s what was unexpected.  In the course of that day, having seen six different bands at three different stages, I never expected that Matthew Sweet would be the second-most disappointing (relatively) band of the day.

Starts At Dusk

And it did, too.  The Fainting Room (which included a Whiskeybelle) started a little past 8 PM.

Continuing the Milwaukee Music Summer, tonight was an album release party for the Wooldridge Brothers at local java joint Anodyne Coffee Roasters.

I have been a fan of these fellas since they moved their entire band from Indiana to Milwaukee to be part of the thriving music scene here in 1984, and they were called the Squares.  Of course, that scene fell apart, as did their band (although members of that band are still making music here) and Scott moved to Minneapolis.  But the brothers continued to work together, landing songs on TV shows and films, releasing fine albums.

A couple of years ago, they launched a Kickstarter project (since there’s no music industry anymore) to release two albums; a solo Scott Wooldridge album, and a Wooldridge Brothers band album.  I , of course, supported their efforts, and my support resulted in a producer credit in the liner notes, which is kind of exciting.

Scott’s solo album came out a while ago, and it is fine, in the same vein as their previous records, and it yielded this excellent song:

But they decided to take the band album in a bit different direction.  They took their time and pushed the production levels up, as well as bringing Brian Wooldridge’s guitar solos well forward in the mix, providing an energy and attack that had not been there before.  In addition, their influences -Elvis Costello, Squeeze, the Kinks- are laid more bare than usual.  The result is, frankly, quite startling.

One of the things they did when they realized their schedule was slipping, was create a video for one of the songs, a bittersweet song called “Drive Through Summer” which they recorded in a drive-in theater.  After they filmed it, they realized that the drive-through would provide, if not a concept album, a tone and feeling throughout the album; so they named it Starts At Dusk.  What an evocative name….

We chatted with the Brothers briefly before the show, talking about the new album, other Milwaukee musicians, the show in Minneapolis, and summer family vacation plans.  I had received the album a week prior, as I was a Kickstarter Producer (along with a couple of rare discs of covers and demos) and it was already making quite a mark on me.  Particular standouts are “Waiting It Out” (excellent guitar work by Brian) and “Zero Information” ( think Graham Parker).  It is not to be released online until September; until then it is SOLELY available at Milwaukee Anodyne coffee shops, because there are no record stores anymore.

The show was simply amazing, we were sitting right up front.


That is actually the Wooldridge Brothers and a Sister-in-Law.  They played almost all the new album too, and we loved it.  It was maybe too short; a tight 90 minutes or so.

Other than the record release, they are mostly relieved to have a project finished and will be focusing on other things for a while, so this may be a rare appearance -although if you live in Minneapolis, Scott plays out relatively often.  In an interview, they said that they hope to be more active in 2018, but until then, there is this absolutely outstanding new album to enjoy.

Up next:  Rancid, Dropkick Murphys, Bouncing Souls and a guy from Stiff Little Fingers.  IN this place: