Why Kids Love The Possum Posse

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Today's blog entry is written by none other than Nolan, a recently-turned two-year-old. In June, the Posse was hired for Nolan's birthday party and was so impressed by his maturity, candor, wit and sagaciousness, that we asked him to guest-author our next blog post. The following is his account of the party, and The Posse's performance. Thanks to Mike Wolfe for the Photos and to Marjorie Matthew for the video.

Hello. I'm Nolan. Upon hearing the news from my Mother that I would be turning two in a matter of days, my immediate reaction was one of anxiety and disbelief. I must admit that I'm a bit under-informed when it comes to human life expectancy, but the idea of doubling one's age in a matter of days is a heavy concept. I consoled myself by recounting the words of the French actor, Maurice Chevalier; "A comfortable old age is the reward of a well-spent youth." Perhaps I do deserve a bit of bacchanalia for all the genteel and benevolent behavior I've displayed since turning 1, but in any case, I couldn't help but feel that it was all a bit grandiloquent. I resolved myself to live in the moment and accept some deserved kudos.

In any case, I conceded that a modest, tasteful event would be a great way for my friends and family to enjoy each others' company and blow off some steam, assuming the appropriate guests were invited and that my favorite band, The Possum Posse, could perform.

I've been a huge fan of The Possum Posse for most of my life. At the age of 1 and a quarter, I attended my first Posse show. While some have argued that The Posse's original music is a bit droll, sophomoric and perhaps even boorish, I found it to be intelligent and profound, with subversive allegorical motifs. I became an instant fan when I heard their recent E.P. "What's Goin' On With Grandpa?" and read this post regarding the band's Miley Cyrus cover. Also, The Posse is dirt cheap and almost always available.

The arrangements were made and the party was scheduled at Buster's BBQ in Lakeway. I arrived via car-seat at approximately 5:00pm. My older brother, Weston, had filled me in on basic birthday party etiquette on the way over.

But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when we arrived at Buster's. This was no ordinary party. It was a TOY STORY THEMED PARTY!!! I can still recall those first few moments of jubilation. The birthday cake decorated with Buzz and Woody, the cowboy hats and bandannas handed out as favors, and the custom invitation featuring what I now understand to be a photoshopped image of Woody and myself together! Ah, the elation!

The band began playing soon afterwards. Of course, the music was top shelf, as always. Always a huge proponent of keen observation, I quickly determined that there were four major denominations within the listening audience:

1) The Confused, but Pleasantly Surprised. These folks came out to the birthday party thinking they might hear some nice soothing tunes and eat a little cake. Upon hearing The Possum Posse's original tune about a wife's infidelity with "the Pepsi Man," set in a West Texas convenience store, this group of people spit out their collective mouthful of cake and thought, "what sort of parent booked this band at a two-year-old's birthday party?" But then, after listening for a while, they realized that the songs exhibited certain high-minded undertones, and actually served as a sort of moral compass. This group of people left the party feeling refreshed. They felt invigorated by the notion that great music is still being made in America, for Americans. And in all honesty, most of them also woke up the next day and revisited the thought "what sort of parent booked that band at a two-year-old's birthday party?"

2) The Unimpressed. These folks showed up to the party with other things on their mind. Obviously, any person with time to kill and an opportunity to hear The Possum Posse would not be able to resist the appeal of the transcendental tones of the greatest band in the universe, possibly ever. But some who attended the party were preoccupied. Sure, some people may say "but Nolan, don't you think it's possible that some folks just don't like the Posse's music?" The answer is no.

Some of the offending distractions included books, iPods, friendly conversation, food and beverage, video games, toys, cloud shapes, leashed dogs, and passing cars. I must admit, even my attention was momentarily stolen by a boisterous squirrel in the large oak tree above the dance floor (as you can see by following my gaze in the picture below).

In any case, this demographic represents a minute birthday party counter-culture that was in no way representative of the overall mood of the party and/or band performance.

3) The Rednecks. This party market segment was the band's "bread and butter." While generally considered to be musically obtuse, these Coors Connoisseurs, which incidentally included my Father (far left), seemed to pick up on the most subtle of social commentary in The Posse's lyrics. In fact, heated debates broke out after several of the band's politically and emotionally charged numbers. Lincoln and Douglass would have been proud. Lincoln and Douglass are two of my stuffed animals, and they tend to enjoy a good debate, but unfortunately, they were unable to attend the shindig.

4) The Kids. Perhaps the most enthusiastic portion of the audience was the children (of which I was, and still am, a member). Most of my friends, including my older brother, Weston, found the music to be infectious. Had there not been a dance floor, I suspect we would have, with no less vigor, shuffled and boot-scooted on top of our chairs!

Yes, it was one of the most memorable birthday parties I've had yet, and has no doubt set the bar high for future affairs.

And perhaps growing older isn't such a worrisome thing after all. At least I don't feel any older. I'm beginning to think this whole "age" thing is a bit overblown. It's probably best captured by English author, Aldous Huxley; "The secret of genius is to carry the spirit of the child into old age, which means never losing your enthusiasm."

But also, birthday parties are awesome! Here's a video of the dance floor...

Banjo in the Band, Yo!

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

If you follow Possum Posse politics like so few Americans do, you know that we suffered a huge loss a couple of months ago. Long-time Banjoist, Robert, semi-retired from The Posse for personal reasons. My theory is that he needed to let his fingers heal from all the speaker-blowing, finger blistering banjo shredding. In any case, Robert will still be making multi-instrument guest appearances with the band, but we have been searching for a full-time replacement.

I'd like to say it's easy to find a banjo player in Austin, known as the Live Music Capital of the World... but it's not. Banjo players typically fall into 3 main categories:

• Technically not very good and/or Undisciplined (see figure A)
• Easily distracted and/or Unmotivated (see figure B)
• Out of our league and/or Currently in a real band (see figure C).

Needless to say, we were excited to hear the news that Ivy League graduate and world-class banjo player, Lincoln (or "Log," as he is known by his friends and minor enemies), was moving back to Austin from the East Coast. Not only is he disciplined and technically very good, he's motivated, focused, interested, and most importantly, available to join the band. In fact, the word "join" is probably not the best term to use for what he's doing. As it turns out, Log was the band's original banjo player. In those days the band was known as "Rascal Red and The Possum Posse" and the closest thing we had to a gig was when we would ring somebody's doorbell and deliver them one of our patented Bluegrass Breakdown-a-Grams (see figure D).

As a founding member of The Posse, Log was known for his onstage antics and immense stage presence. To add drama to a song about cattle rustlers, he once brought a bull whip onto the stage and cracked it during the most dramatic parts of the song. While the old lady in the front row might argue that it wasn't worth the risk, it was well received by most of the audience.*

*The old lady and the band eventually settled out of court on the whole "whipped in the eye" thing.

Since rejoining the band a couple of weeks ago, Log has also undergone some incredible changes. He's brushed up on all the Posse songs, and perhaps most noticeably, has begun tweaking his personal image - as prescribed by the rest of the band. Much like a prize fighter gets out of shape if he or she does not continuously train, an inactive Possum Posse member begins to lose that special something about his or her image that lets people know he or she is a Posse member. As you can see from the following photo collage, Lincoln has some work to do to get back to his "fighting weight." But as you can also see from the photo collage, future Log is predicted to be just as impressive, if not more impressive (appearance-wise) than past Log.

Lincoln's skills will be tested at his first official Possum Posse gig this Saturday, June 25th at Buster's BBQ in Lakeway, Texas. The show is free to attend at begins at 6:00pm. Come on out and see if the new banjo player is up to snuff. Plus, we've got a new shipment of T-shirts and free koozies as long as they last, so you can't lose!

See you there!

Save the Last Dance for Robert

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

If you came out to Thunderbird Coffe last Friday night to see The Possum Posse, you no doubt noticed something a little different about the band. Did Brian get a new pair of boots? Did Jes get a new sparkly green guitar? Did Marty get a mustache trim? Was Jomo sporting a court-ordered ankle bracelet? The answer is "Yes" to all of the above, but that's not the thing I'm talking about. In fact, I'm not even talking, I'm typing. No, the thing is that one of our band members, Robert, was inexplicably missing.

For those of you "Fanjos" out there, you no doubt have noticed Robert's unique banjo techniques. You might know him for his riffs, his rolls, his runs and his rhythms. You might know him as the "DJ" of the band, as we once determined that the banjo is the closest thing we have to a set of turntables - and subsequently relegated him to try to transpose any 808 or Moog parts in the Posse's extensive hip-hop cover song repertoire into banjo music.

Others may think of Robert as the Dance Czar of The Possum Posse. Robert's dance moves have incited swooning, fainting, dance fever, hypochondria, aberrations, mania, seizures, cramps, and bloating among a huge number of ladies over the years and earned him fans from as far away as Singapore and Bastrop. At a recent gig, The Posse earned $80 in tips during one of Robert's dance numbers. Yes, it was all from one solitary creepy dude, but the fact remains.

In any case, Robert recently decided he needed to take a hiatus from the band for personal reasons. We're not exactly sure how long Robert's break from The Greatest Band in The World (Possibly ever) will last, but we do know one thing... until he returns, there will be a proverbial hole in the band's proverbial soul.

In the meantime, we've compiled some of Robert's greatest Posse moments into a photo collage for your enjoyment. Stay tuned for more info.

Fast Times at The Bastrop Academy of Music

Monday, April 25, 2011

A few weeks ago, we were given an awesome opportunity to play at the regionally famous Lumberyard Music Hall in Bastrop, Texas. We thought it might be an opportunity to test out our elaborate scheme of playing a statewide tour exclusively within old closed-down lumberyards. But we also thought it might be an opportunity to have a paying gig. We always take paying gigs.

We arrived and were met by Jeff, the owner of LMH, which he runs in conjunction with the Bastrop Academy of Music. Jeff had papered the town with our show posters, depicting the band as human-shaped music trees, each with an intricate root system. We never pass up an idea for a show poster, no matter how ridiculous or bad.

We set up on a stage that featured a tiny piano just in front of it (see picture). I suppose it is used to teach cats or small children how to play the piano when the lumberyard is moonlighting as a music academy. We were a little late getting started with our show, mostly because we lost track of time pretending to be giants, and also pretending our harebrained scientist spouse, played by Rick Moranis, shrunk the piano. Also, we pretended that I belonged to an immigrant family that pooled together its money to buy the smallest child (me) a tiny piano because of my amazing musical talent at age 3. Playing through the years, I entertained my immigrant family with Tchaikovsky and Chopin, but the family simply could not afford an upgrade. Over time, I became increasingly successful, and began playing publicly. Once I had earned enough money through my tiny-piano performances, I upgraded to one more appropriate for my size only to find that I could not recreate the musical magic on a full-size instrument. I resigned myself to live a life of humiliation and shame as I worked to become the world’s foremost pianist, but was forced to play a silly miniature piano. Honestly, that one was probably the one that wasted most of our time and ultimately caused our late start.

Anyway, we were all feeling perhaps a tinge of frustration after our recent gig, wherein we were asked to play at less than 70 decibels. We cranked our amps and decided to really bring the heat to Bastrop and the Lumberyard Music Hall Listening Audience. It was liberating to sing loudly and to play our instruments as they were meant to be played, holding nothing back and sending wave after wave of honky-tonk bluegrass tones out into the universe. You know, they say that light waves and radio waves can be received thousands of years after transmission by far-away planets and possibly beings… serving as a sort of time machine. I’m no scientist, believe it or not, but I think that perhaps one day aliens might have the technology to pick up sound waves from earth and listen to what happened that night at The Lumberyard. And I think they’ll probably say (or think through telekinesis) to each other “Hey, these guys really brought their A-game that night. You guys are always talking about how we should annihilate the human race, but this… this really speaks to me. I’m not so sure about human annihilation anymore.”

UPDATE: I’ve been told sound waves don’t travel in space. Bummer. Nevermind.

The point is, we had a great show. Tons of locals came out and some even showed their support. We gave away CD’s and took requests. Robert even found a moment during his Miley Cyrus song when the Spirit moved him to play an impromptu solo on the tiny piano. It was magical.

I think we'll return to Bastrop soon. In the meantime, don't miss our upcoming show, Friday, May 6th at Thunderbird Coffee on Koenig Ln in Austin. It's outdoors, but there is NO sound ordinance enforced!!

Keepin' It Real Quiet

Monday, March 28, 2011

Two weekends ago, we were asked to play at Uncle Billy's on Barton Springs Road in Austin. Pre-Story Side Note: For 2 out of the last 4 gigs we've played in Austin, we've been misspelled on the marquee. It's really interesting how people choose to spell Possum Posse. As you can see from the picture, Uncle Billy's spelled it "possume," as in "don't make a poss out of you and me." Jovita's (not pictured) spelled it "possum pose," which made me think of a Parisian model making some sort of uber-hip play-dead pose for the cameras at the end of the runway. My favorite spelling suggestion is from Dawn Elder, who was also at the gig, which is "P-awesome Posse" because it points out the fact that we're awesome, or at the least implies that we are in fact awesome. Anyway... Uncle Billy's is a cool place - they make their own micro-brew beers and have a nice, big patio for sitting around and drinking said micro-brewed beers and purportedly, to listen to live music. We were told that because of a certain neighbor of the bar, who had chosen to live in the middle of "the live music capital of the world," but who also does not like music, we would need to keep the sound level under 70 decibels. For those of you who are not familiar with the decibel system, 70 is roughly equivalent to the noise caused by creasing a fresh sheet of paper. So basically, we were asked to perform at roughly the same volume as someone making a flock of origami swans. And if you've been to a Possum Posse show before, you know 1) We rock way too hard for that... and 2) We are not good enough at controlling our instruments (and certain band members) to keep our sound within a reasonable volume. As always, I brought my foot-drum (see picture). I receive tons of compliments on it everywhere I go. People say things like... "wow, that thing actually plays?" and "what did you do to that perfectly good kick drum?" and "is that the ratchet strap you borrowed from me that I keep asking you to give back?" - all in a good context, of course. I have it "engineered" to play both a tambourine and a kick drum (and a snare, which I left at home on this particular occasion), but I knew the kick drum would be way over the 70 decibel level, so I told the manager that I would only be using it for the tambourine functionality. I used the word "functionality" to make it seem more like some sort of high-tech device and less like a piece of crap I strapped together and duct-taped into place. She seemed agreeable, but perhaps a bit suspicious. We started off with a nice, peaceful tune about doves or puppies or something - basically a Colorado-bluegrass style thing where we all sing in high and lonesome whispery voices that are barely audible to humans. The manager walked to the back of the deck and pulled out the decibel meter... after a quick reading she shot us a thumbs up. Boom. Business time. She disappeared into the inside-dining area and we immediately broke into our rendition of "What's Goin' On With Grandpa" - with heavy kick drum and group shouting (see photo of "Grandpa" lyric writer, Ross Baxter enjoying the show and a cold micro-brew). Soon we were on to other songs that included synchronized clapping, liberal usage of the vibraslap, Jes's wailing electric guitar solos, and heartfelt yelling. Of course, the crowd went wild. People were weeping for joy, dropping pulled pork bbq from their amazement-induced open jaws, and as a general rule, moving to the grooving. We were giving out tons of our Demo CD's, which incidentally make great coasters (see picture). The weather was great, and people really seemed to enjoy themselves. The tip bucket was filling up, the CD bin was emptying, and good times were being had by all. At one point, I noticed some people dancing toward the back of the patio. This is not uncommon at our shows because our music is so infectious, the good vibes tend to spread like whooping cough. Turns out, it was the manager and some random guy, dancing the night away. I guess she had slipped back out of the restaurant without our noticing and didn't mind the fact that we had grossly neglected the city's noise ordinance. After the show was over, we packed up our stuff and waited to see what the verdict was. After about 15 minutes, and no police or angry neighbors, we decided that nobody seemed to have noticed our raucousness. The management even invited us back for the next weekend! I think it was Robert's amazing performance during "Party in the USA" that was the nail in the coffin (see picture). I guess it's sort of like the great writer Aldos Huxley once said... "After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music." Also, kind of like he said... "Silence is golden, but not when The Possum Posse is doing a show." - I think he said that. Photos by Chris Corona and Mike Wolfe