Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Red's Blew Up

We left the V.F.W. Hall right after Bobby Rush started his second set. He was amazingly resourceful, working the same big-booty-blues joke over and over and inside out to maximum effect during the first set, but we wanted to leave on an up beat. Nothing is worse than when the band itself makes you dislike them by running themselves into the ground right in front of you.

We rolled up to Red's Juke Joint at about 1 a.m. to complete and utter howling mayhem. A bunch of dudes loitered out front, cackling and busily selling barbecued chicken off of a massive smoking grill. Inside, the band was just exploding. EVERYBODY was drunk, dancing, waving beer bottles and howling to be heard over grungy blues guitar and thudding rhythms.

You know when you see scenes in movies about rowdy, wild bars where someone gets punched but it turns out alright? This was one of those scenes, only no punching and everyone would have sweated their makeup off. It was dark and the only light came from a reddish bulb in the ceiling. The flash in this picture below betrays the dark red light, but here you go:

reds.juke

Several largeish women cleared space on the dancefloor for what could only be described as an ass-shakin' contest. One threw herself on the ground, crab-style, and vigourously ground her bits on another man's leg in time to the rhythm:

reds.grind

Not to be outdone, her friend hiked her skirt up, clearly exposing a bare rump and shook it like a sack of gelatin to thrilled screams and a LOT of flashbulbs. She cackled madly, as if to say, TOP THAT!

Another friend sure did. She threw herself face-down on the ground, grinding her pelvis hard into the carpet and moving her rear like a massive, stumpy prehensile tail. The camera snapped as she was rolling over to stand up...
floor.dancer
...and jump up on the bar, smashing bottles out of her way, and continued grinding her massive prehensile backside into faces and thin air.

EVERYONE in the house shouted and clapped. The second friend turned to Tash and said "Damn. I thought my ass was a good one, too. Do you?" And quick as that, she hiked the skirt again and displayed it.

The atmosphere was just as wild and anarchic as any of the best punk shows I've ever been to, but nobody was trying to prove a damn thing...except that they were having a great time.

3 Comments:

At 5:22 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Good Lord.

--Richard

 
At 9:25 AM, Blogger weasel said...

Jeez I'm sorry; mom always gets like that after a couple of drinks.

Interesting stuff and it makes me very envious that I have to live it second hand through your (outstanding) writing). DOes it feel odd to play the role of social anthropologist in your own ountry, is is this place so big its an inate thing all Americans are born with?

 
At 5:45 PM, Blogger V said...

I randomly came across your blog but my husband & I just did a 2wk roadtrip from LA to Nawlins & Clarksdale was a highlight.

The Delta struck a phat chord in my heart for which I think I do not sound the same...

Loving this blog, will check out more :)

 

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