Bill Spooner and the Folkups
Live at Slim's, San Francisco, CA
October 3, 1998
Witty and unassuming are only two of the many fine adjectives available to describe this band. The principal Folk-Ups are Bill "Sputnik" Spooner and Alex; they augmented their lineup for their October 3rd show at Slim's in San Francisco with a new stand-up bassist and a drummer.
In a punchy, well-paced set they moved effortlessly through a wide range of styles and treatments from Django-style swing to country-folk and neo-classical, performing clever twists on old favorites and even TV theme songs. Listening to their very tight harmonies which are quite reminiscent of Gram Parsons and Chris Hillman or the Everly Brothers, it’s easy to miss the humour that infuses nearly every song with a sly wink; songs about cows in heaven or love song obituaries and the great opener ‘You Racked up My Heart’ in which love is apparently a car wreck, to name a few.
They come off as casual and I’m still wondering if the one or two flaws in the show were staged just for the fun of it. Playing to a packed house of Dave Davies fans, they easily won over the crowd – in fact, in back of where I was standing I overheard a man tell his friends “This is the perfect band to open for Dave Davies!”.
Alex is a great imp of a man, it’s fun watching him amuse himself. His multi-instrumental talents add a lot of ‘bang fer the buck’.
Bill is the charmer in this duo, his voice - which was great in the Tubes, now has an added grace – and his guitar chops, fast and flying solos or slow, sensitive chord-melody stylings must be heard (and seen) live to be believed.
I think the crowd favorite would be 'Hamburger Dream' while I must admit that I found his new version of ‘Young and Rich’ to be my personal highlight.
C.Linstrom, 10/7/98
NOTE: You can continue to scroll down this page for a more "gonzo" style review of the same concert. However, be warned...the language is occasionally "R" rated. -- J.D.
Bill Spooner and the Folkups
Live at Slim's, San Francisco, CA
October 3, 1998
I know all too well from a twisted wealth of personal experience that every crowd, everywhere is the same – they’re all like your best friend who’s beenup on a bad speed jag for a week, which is to say that their love can turn onyou – horribly – without you ever knowing why. One minute you’re god then suddenly they’re a crazed pack of screaming hell-hounds poised to pounce,aching to rip the shredded flesh off of anything that moves. Bars encouragethis deviant behavior – it sells more booze and that, my hapless puppies is what they are there for. Forget entertainment, it’s only the back-drop for ahuge grunion run of the massing throng, except that sometimes, thank god, themusic is better than the kind that populates most adult films.
Such was the case on a breezy night in San Francisco, October 3rd as I recall, at Slim’s – an upper-class sort of dive different from the Paradise Lounge (where my friend’s bands usually played) only in size. We arrived early, having failed to bribe our way onto the guest list and immediately recognized that we were, in fact, in a dangerous and possibly fearful spot. We found ourselves helplessly trapped in the midst of rabid Dave Davies fans,appropriate, of course, as he was the headliner. We attempted and succeeded,to a point, in blending in. Unfamiliar to the cold which can be described as a warm night in “The City”, I asked the piranhas, with all politeness, to standin a line and upon obliging I thanked them for being a good wind-break. Badmove. They were on to us and began speaking in loud menacing tones “Who IS theopening act.” “Who ARE The Folk-Ups?” Against the advice and better judgementof those close to me, I faced the fuckers full-on and proudly, loudly stated“Don’t you know? This is Bill Spooner’s band, You heathens HAVE heard of theTubes, haven’t you? My God, people, the man is having some fun and you havethe great opportunity to hear him.” I closed my eyes, I knew they were stepping away from me like you would any lunatic (my companions later, sadly, confirmed this).
This separation lasted another hour, until the doors opened.
One goddamned long hour.
Inside, for the betterment of all humanity, was cold beer and clean bathrooms. The place filled up quickly. We moved immediately to the bar wherea cockroach attempted to take up residence upon my hand. I shook it off muttering something to my companions about how it was hard to lose a pet. I believe Donny Osmond was in the reserved section – the balcony, I scared him once back in 1984 in an accidentally ugly experience but brevity demands thatI reveal that story at a different time.
Yes, but let’s get to the matter at hand. In an earlier, personally reality-impaired situation, I happened across the band playing at Hamburger Mary’s. They were like a lot of the bands that I had been in – and since some weird unknown gravity walked by and pinned me to the bar, we decided to stay. Drunks crashed against the band’s gear, an unknown geek of some sort ran off with the band’s proceeds – yes, this I could identify with. In between I saw a coupleof guys and a bass player run through some fun songs. Songs that sounded like normal songs but had twisted lyrics that could really only be understood by the truly doomed, myself among them. Recognizing this, my advisor quickly escorted me from the establishment. A wise man makes a good friend. But Idigress. The mood at Slim’s was one of anticipation. The stage was loaded with acoustic gear. Some in the crowd even postulated that the opener would be Ray Davies. Fat-fucking chance, knowing the brothers Davies. Oddly, I knew The Folk-Ups would be everything they’d desire.
The band came up from the deep suddenly and broke into the first of many irresistible tunes (some nicely punctuated with tight close harmonies). “You Racked up My Heart” in which love is a car wreck was followed in time by an ingenious take on an old standard by a man from Seattle. (No other clues, kids – trust me). The songs stumbled seamlessly forth and the crowd voiced its approval, to the point where some citizen behind me shouted “This is the perfect band to open forDave Davies!”. I must agree. I believe it will take a few shows to get to know the quirks of this combo adequately enough to speak on familiar terms . . .but I can say that the new version of ‘Young and Rich’ was the highlight of the set for me, but recognize, though that sentimentally is my congenital vice, i.e. I’m just a mess.
Meanwhile, the crowd seemed obscenely attached to a song in which cattle as hamburger are lionized up to and into the pearly gates themselves. We stayed half-way through Dave’s set but it seemed like he was far-away –still playing in the arena of his mind, whereas The Folk-Ups are here, NOW,and happy to be here. Go see them.
C.Linstrom, 10/7/98