May 25, 2006
At the Soapbox:
I missed most of Jim Testa’s opening set and his rendition of the W.E. Fest Song thanks to my battle to find parking. Luckily it would not be the last time he’d play it here (see Night #5). Jim is the editor of Jersey Beat; the long-running underground music fanzine that has set the standard for many others. He has been to every single W.E. Fest and performed at five. His music, much like his writing, is honest with no pretense other than simply telling you what he feels.
Tom House followed and was given a rousing recommendation by W.E. Fest organizer Kenyata Sullivan. I had never seen nor heard of Tom before. His style is classic, twang-filled folk with funny stories to support the songs. Including one about how he met Elvis Costello.
I thought to myself that the sound of the next band Regina Hexaphone was a mixture of psychedelic meets 50s pop meets 80s drama with a dash of accordion to taste. Hailing from Durham, NC, the band members keep busy with this and a plethora of other musical projects. The breadth of influences can certainly be heard in their songs.
In true W.E. Fest spirit, there was an unscheduled treat for the Festers, Kenyata invited up some dude named Joe who had been traveling around the country randomly playing songs for gas money. Mainly shoe-gaze mumbles but certainly heartfelt and honest. Besides, it takes serious balls to just pop up on to a stage to play at any event, let alone one such as this. Kudos.
Next up came one of my W.E. Fest highlights. The Majestic Twelve’s latest CD ‘Schizophrenology’ is wrought with sharp, political satire and spiced with an anger that is blatant and certain. Tonight marked the official CD release celebration and their performance was fueled for cooking.
To break up the set, they treated us to two fantastic videos. The first was for the up beat ‘Living on the Beach’ complete with scenes of toxic hilarity and slapstick poetry. A brilliant visual satire, it was directed by Brian Rainey. The crew (from the NBC Show ‘Surface’) apparently worked on this as a gift to the band. It’s testament to their artistic influence in the Wilmington area.
The video for ‘Trapped Underwater’ was a surreal and disturbing array of an aqua man attacking an underwater beauty. The story behind the second video is one of true indie-centric, W.E. Fest business acumen. Kenyata being a huge film buff discovered Norwegian film called Dypets Ensomhet (Depth Solitude). The band cut it together with their song and thought it looked pretty cool.
Never being one to steal anything, Kenyata proceeded to track down the filmmaker to get his permission. He sent him a copy of the video to let him know what the band was doing. He wasn’t sure if he’d be denied the right to use it or if the filmmaker would want boatloads of money. To Kenyata’s surprise, the man wrote back with a couple of edit suggestions that he felt would work better with the song.
After the final cut was agreed upon came the usual financial negotiations. When Kenyata explained that there was no record label or corporate representation, the filmmaker was impressed and kind enough to give perpetual rights for a very reasonable $2,000! When you see the video, you’ll know what a bargain that was. We estimated that this was easily a six-figure shoot.
After puffing a few smokes and drinking more $2.00 bottles of Pabst Blue Ribbon (this would be a common thing for me while here) came Ape Fight from Jersey City. They had matching uniforms, a bombastic sound and a video screen with lyrics and absurdly funny vignettes.
There was a brief moment of nudity and the occasional strategically placed flashlight which showed more than I needed to see. They did keep us entertained in between songs by spouting out all sorts of North Carolinian facts. Things like the state bird, fish, mineral and so on. None of which I remember.
After the Show:
That night, after the bands ended, I was asked to come back to the beach house being rented by Jersey Beat’s Jim Testa and several others for an after party. Joined by W.E. Fest Grand Exalted Poobah Kenyata Sullivan, Gregg Yeti and Dave from Syracuse and a handful of housemates, we sat on Wrightsville Beach until nearly sunrise discussing the horrors of corporate music, contemplating the idea of fame for fame’s sake, drinking beer and wading foot deep in a clean ocean.
Our walkway was lit thanks to the minor’s style light on the head of D. Michael McNamarra. He is a very talented writer and publisher who travels the country in search of fun and adventure. To kill time and curtail boredom on the long, dark nights of driving, he writes. So when he says he keeps a travel journal, he is being quite literal. I don’t have the hand, feet, eye, brain coordination to drive and write.
This night would spoil me for the rest of the Fest. I’ve always loved the beach. I love the sound of the waves and the soothing breezes, but living in NJ, it is rare that you can find any privacy. I’m also not so crazy about the hot sun and filthy water. Sitting in this hushed night of cool air and warm friendship was perfection to me.
I fell asleep on the beach house sofa at around 6:00. I’m thankful to my new housemates D. Michael, Dave Jr., Nina, Zoe, Margo, Jared and Jim. Without them I would have essentially been homeless. I came to W.E. Fest with no place to stay. I wasn’t concerned though, I’d done this before and never had a problem. It’s part of the welcoming nature of our community and the adventure of this trip.
