|
Written by Max Stout
|
|
Saturday, 24 November 2007 |
|
Page 1 of 4 Glubdub found out about a week too late, That One Guy had played Asbury Lanes in Asbury Park NJ. Upstage Magazine had reviewed the show, and him in general, and what I read made me want to know more about him. I chased him for six months, hoping to catch a show, or connect for an interview, so I could write my side of his story. And then finally I did catch a show and was able to speak with him, and just like that we had a story. Our conversation over the phone flowed with the same fluid energy that exists between him and the crowd. You instantly like That One Guy, and feel the place that his music’s coming from. His music, and the vibe he generates, taps into your very core. And with that, he’s able to expose what’s alive in all of us.
We watched That One Guy assemble the Magic Pipe in front of our eyes, before the show started. And then he began. He dragged his bow across that monster of an instrument, and it cried out in mournful melody. It wept something beautiful from hits lungs that mesmerized and aroused at the same time. When he finally hypnotized us into blissful sorrow, That 1 Guy launched into a four-limbed assault on the monster, and thunder and lightening erupted from it. He’s up on stage, slapping and stomping the shit out of his Magic Pipe, looking like he’s having the time of his life. It's no wonder the crowd sounded three times its size.
That One Guy is part man and part machine, and by night’s end, it was hard to tell where one part ended and the other began. His infectious rhythms popped inside me like I’d swallowed a pinball machine and popcorn maker, and the two battled it out inside my belly for supremacy. It took every bit of me to hold the camera steady through it all. What he laid on us that night was pure and powerful. It could move a dead man’s feet across the floor, or make him sit up with an overwhelming sense of joy, and smile.
<< Start < Prev 1 2 3 4 Next > End >>
|