HBD Durty Nelly’s.
Well it was the old gal’s 47th on Monday and her haggard beauty was on full display.
There were balloons and streamers. Somebody made cupcakes. Liz and Kelsey, members of the best bartending team in town, kept the swing oil flowing as the venerable happy hour crowd was joined by the local usual suspects and then, it seemed, by half of Nelson and Albemarle. Most of them showered and all had a little extra pep in their step knowing what Koda had booked for the shindig.
But let’s slather some love on Durty Nelly’s true beauty a bit before we talk bands.
After all these years, the beauty really still is the music. From her nasty-ass acoustic tile ceiling to the rough sawn oak on the walls, the bodies that fill her, and the board that everyone seems to know how to work, Durty Nelly’s never lets anyone sound anything less than the best they’ve ever sounded.
Maybe she wasn’t intentionally built for her acoustics but somehow it worked out that way.
Tonight, Jesse’s Houze had the honor of kicking off the evening and was joined by Chamomile and Whiskey’s Koda Kerl on lead guitar. Jesse was hilarious (watch ‘til the end up there for the warning on the cupcakes) and the set was perfection. The high point for Old Hank was this nasty thing in D minor, Rain’s Gonna Come. Jarrod (Bass) and Darrell (drums) set a tempo that had the steady roll of a diesel train full of musicians drunk on gin and high on goof-butt heading to Chicago. Koda’s tele had that early electrified tone you used to hear every night in the Checkerboard Lounge on the South Side. Jesse poured honey on it from the SM58. It was stanky as all hell. Filthy good.
By the time Jesse handed the stage over to Wild Bill and the Bruisers, the crowd was loose and lubed with a nice lather going but no one, including Old Hank was ready for the onslaught that was about to hit them.
Wild Bill and the Boys are Rockabilly, Honkey-Tonk, Hootenanniers out of Nashville. Bill has the manic electricity of a down hi-voltage power line, snappin’ and poppin’ all over the place. Set yerself and watch this ‘un.
Trying to shoot these guys on a couple of beers and a bowl (and let’s face it, rudimentary camera skills) was like trying to fight Floyd Mayweather in a bar — constant movement, you never see whats comin’ till it hits you, and when it does, you’re probably goin’ down. But man it was fun!
Ryan Hartman’s unfathomably good Tele work made all the other guitar players in the room slightly suicidal. Roger Ross didn’t just smoke the drums, he lead-voxed a great version of Livin’ on Tulsa Time. These boys know how to play and they know how to party. You can just see them getting sweaty panties thrown at them by a bridal party that fell off a pedal car and into the bar on Broadway in Nashville.
All in all, it was about as perfect a birthday bash as you could imagine. Unless you get to thinkin’ about what Koda and the gang will have planned for the old gal’s 50th. Woooeeee!
