There's just one of me, and sometimes the batteries die. That happened on Saturday. Apparently, I slept for 14 hours. It's already five days later, and I have yet to write about two great shows I saw before my big sleep.
Webb Wilder was holding musical court at the Coffee Pot. Here's a situation where Wilder, "the last of the boarding house men," and the Pot, the old roadhouse that's on the National Register of Historic Places but still maintains a dive-ish charm, are a perfect fit.
If Wilder's doing anything, he's doing roadhouse-ready music. His latest album, "More Like Me," is one of the best he's ever recorded, and it was well-represented. Wilder's own songs -- this is his most prolific work to date -- "Too Cool For Love" and "She's Not Romantic," were laid back but cool.
Wilder and his band powered through some of the disc's covers. "Don't Slander Me" (Roky Erikson) was psychedelic, with Wilder screaming notes well past the top of his baritone. It's great to hear that he can still get it vocally, even after all these decades of touring and recording.
Longtime Wilder bandmates Jimmy Lester (drums/harmony vocals) and Tom Comet (bass/harmonies) were their usual solid but sly selves. Wilder has a rotation of guitarists, based on who is playing with whom and when at a given time. On Friday, Bob Williams was onstage, and I'd swear he is as good or better than anyone I've heard with Wilder, save maybe original Beatnecks guitarist Donnie "The Twangler" Roberts.
Williams has obviously listened to his fair share of David Grisson and Sonny Landreth. The Landreth connection shows up more in his single-note picking than his slide work, a sentence which adds up to one word -- hard but atmospheric.
Wilder always improves as a guitarist -- always with the tasty and slashing rhythms to complement his lead player, and often with a few neat solos of his own. Where both he and Williams really excel, though, is as a pair of tone farmers. From vibratos set to sound like spinning speaker cabinets to an overdriven crunch strong enough to give AC/DC a run for its money, these cats can make their axes sound hot.
Honestly, Wilder and his band rock as hard as they ever did. He's aged well, and he realizes his crowd has aged, too, so his shows are happening earlier. This one started before 9 p.m. I hope that on future dates, more kids will come out to see how it's done -- then head out to later shows.
Afterward, I hit Martin's Downtown Bar & Grill for the Jamie McLean Band show. I had only heard the former Dirty Dozen Brass Band guitarist once -- from a long distance, at FloydFest -- but I liked it. Catching him in the more intimate downtown bar gave a better indication of his playing. He burned stylefully on songs from his "American Heartache CD."
His rhythm section included drummer Brian Griffin, a classmate of local guitar hero and educator Cyrus Pace at Manhattan School of Music. Pace was at the show, and said that everyone wanted to play with Griffin. The guy was a groove machine and showed hints of the drum wildness inside him.
Tomorrow, I'll post my thoughts on The Duhks amazing show on Tuesday night at Kirk Avenue Music Hall.
