Post a Comment        E-mail To A Friend        Join The List

Effie's Club Follies And More

by The Bridge
10/25/2006

You gotta love street buskers in Athens. Our city has had a few downtown staples over the years. I recall Professor Euphoniuos Thump and his traveling piano being a downtown fixture for quite a while; likewise Electric Guitar Dude (not his real name - at least, it'd be a really weird coincidence if it was), who used to set up just past Rocky's Pizza before relocating to a spot just past Five Star Day Cafe, and then after that I think he hung around the sushi bar and Last Call for a bit. The Stuttering Fiddle Dude is back, usually on Clayton street. I remember him from my teenaged days, when the stutter was stronger and the fiddling just as bad.

Then you have the out of town buskers: traveling brigades of punk kids playing mouthharps and accordians for spare change, that sort of thing. While fueling up for a night of club-hopping at the downtown Taco Stand on Friday night, a friend and I spotted what looked to me like just such a band of roving punks playing on the corner of College and Broad for a small, bemused crowd. There was a washtub bass, being lackadasically strumped (strummed + thumped = strumped. Is too a word.) by a gloomy looking guy, a sallow-cheeked fellow doing not too much with his muted trumpet, a young girl on spoon-and-washboard duty, and the band's lone piece of energy: an extra peppy lad in pleated slacks, a fitted suit vest and sleeves, and a natty chapeau. He played the fiddle decently, doing an odd sort of dixie-swing thing that incorporated his rather forced growling vocals to questionable effect. Still, he was fun to watch, doing impromtu soft-shoe jigs in his worn out sneaks and generally whooping it up.

After polishing off our fine tex-mex grub, we departed for the Georgia Theater to check out the Tent Revival, which promised several bands and a show from Athens premiere burlesque squad, Effie's Follies. The opening band was local country-rockers Poncho Magic, who played a cover-heavy set of sturdy, reliable cowperson rock, including not one but two Lucinda Williams covers, as well as Concrete Blonde and the traditional gospel number "I'll Fly Away." Poncho Magic are coming along just fine these days. Guitarist Dave Martin is particularly profficient, turning in one liquid solo after another, and drummer Marla Getford's exuberant, no-frills four/fours are punchy and appropriate, the perfect support for lead singer April McDowell's gutteral singing. I do wish McDowell and fellow singer/strummer Sarah Shumake would back off the volume a bit - they're singing from their chests and midway through the set the strain starts to show. Still, these guys seem quite happy together, and it's always fun to see a band enjoying themsellves. We particularly enjoyed watching April tell off an ex-lover in "Ellen": "Ellen, you're from hell/You're fat and ugly/And you're always yellin'/Ellen."

We headed over to the 40 Watt after the Poncho's set to get advance-stamped for the Summer Hymns. While on that side of town, the call of cold sake at the Manhattan proved irresistable, so we missed the next band. We did, however, get a a word of advice from another friend on the burlesque show: "It's just a bunch of dumpy chicks in lingerie." Despite this editorial comment, we headed back to check it out.

And I, for one, am pretty offended by that crude assessment. I guess Effie's Follies has done a couple of shows that were less than runaway successes, but whatever - how was your band's first show? Here's betting it sucked. Everyone deserves a little grace period when embarking on an entertainment adventure, and I'd say Effie's deserves an extra long one for doing domething a little outside the usual barroom-entertainment box.

Not that they need it, apparently. Effie's is a large (eighteen folks, according to the program) crew of entertainers who dance, sing, and perform in various comedic skits and musical numbers. Each player has a stage name and a back story, and it's all done in the style of classic vaudeville performance. According to the program, Miss Effie (the child of circus freaks) runs a halfway house for "Wayward girls," including the dancing daughter of a Sicilian mafioso, a pirate-cum-vampire, and a former child star.

These kids put a lot into their shows, and you can tell. The show opened with a gospel choir befitting the tent revival theme. The choir entered from the back of the club and marched onstage singing the traditional tune "Down to the River to Pray" with what one might have mistaken for Christian fervor, had they not concluded the number with half of the singers kneeling, in a stance more suited to oral service than prayer, in front of the other half, who sprouted amongst them a few grins.

Next up, the evening's MC, Tammy Faye (played by company member Lemme Lickett) took the stage and gave us a quick rundown: this evening was about the healing power of burlesque, apparently, which naturally involved lots and lots sexual innuendo from Ms. Lickett as she introduced the various numbers. The first one, a bit of dancing and striptease by Nina Aurelia, made me seriously doubt the "dumpy girls" comment. Ms. Aurelia has what duders at the beach tend to call a "hard body," and she could dance. Her number was called "Pussy Cat" and it involved a parasol, some perky dancing, and upside down splits in stockings and garters. Next up was a cute number involving Miss Effie and Peggy Day suited up as Siamese twins (cojoined twins, if you wanna go the P.C. route), singing a winking little ditty called "Freeway to a Threeway." Next was another sketch devoted to the "revival" theme - a rousing dance number complete with a bellowing evangelist and a choir of spirit-filled dancers, who joined forces to "Heal" an old lady with a walker. It was pure slapstick fun, with Granny humping the stage and shaking her padded derriere.

Other highlights included a fiercely impressive gyspy dancer (who danced to a really good cover of Screamin' Jay Hawkins "I Put a Spell on You" - love to know who did it), a chick who lit a lightbulb in her nether region, and a mermaid who sang an aria, Lucia di Lammermoor's "The Mad Scene," with such amazing skill that I was convinced she was just a really good lip-syncher. "Nope," Peggy Day assured me. "That was her voice." When the time came to move on to our next venue, we did so with a heavy heart.

Which is not to say that we didn't have a fine time at the Caledonia, where I saw local rockers Engineering for the first time. I'd heard a bit of buzz on these guys, and I can't say I was unmoved. Engineering play a choppy, post-punkish brand of dance-guitar rock that boasts slighly more hummable songs then a lot of bands in that realm. They've got a clean, tight sound - you wouldn't suspect them of slacking on rehearsal time. But somehow the energy isn't up to the level this kind of jumpy, kinetic rock demands.

Summer Hymns provided a chilled nightcap at the 40 Watt. These guys are, as my friend (and devout Summer Hymns fan) put it, very hit or miss live. "This one time, (lead singer) Zach was so drunk, he just leaned on his delay pedal for the entire set," she sighed. "You do that at practice, maybe. Not live." I think I might have been at that show. They can get kinda murky sometimes. Friday's show was one of the more coherent ones. On some of the slower numbers, there was a feeling that the band might be playing underwater, but it wasn't sloppy. More like dreamy.

Towards the end, Zach (whaddya need his last name for? You a stalker or somethin?) became stricken with a form of encore-itis, and continued to screw around with his trusty delay pedal and snippets of "Amazing Grace" and Pink Floyd's "The Wall" for a while, looping his voice and trying to sing rounds with himself without snickering too much. It was endearing, like watching your really smart, sort of slacker friend playing drunken fugues by Bach on the piano at midnight: even though they're obviously goofing off, their talent shines through the fog.