Song, by Toad

[Campfires & Battlefields has been such a constant support to this website, what with his sarcastic sniping and everything, and and I never thanked him properly for filling in so kindly while I was away. So thanks, pal, it really is much appreciated. And here, seeing as he introduced me to the Felice Brothers and I missed them playing in Glasgow a month or so ago, is a live review of their show in Annapolis last week, courtesy once more of the excellent C&B. ]

The Felice Brothers have been to the D.C. area a few times in the last 6 months or so, but for one reason or another events kept conspiring against my going, so when I saw in late April that they were scheduled to swing through again in early June I committed myself early by buying up a non-refundable ticket. That did the trick. Actually the gig I ultimately went to see wasn’t in D.C. at all, but at the Ram’s Head Tavern in Annapolis, Maryland, which is about an hour or so outside Washington. I really don’t think I’ve ever been to such a “civilized” venue, and I’m not sure I really like places like this. It was all tables and seats, with waitresses bringing beer and snacks and shit like that during the show. Kind of distracting if you ask me. To my astonishment the tables actually had little signs on them demanding that people be quiet and refrain from getting up and dancing, although to be fair the place typically caters to a somewhat different crowd, with great but “mature” artists like Guy Clark and John Prine walking the boards.

Well, as it turns out I needn’t have worried because the Felice Brothers pretty quickly subverted the whole staid tone of the place. The watchword was “messy.” Messy hair, messy clothes, messy bus, and yes … messy playing. Positively ramshackle. And completely engrossing. It was one blistering murder ballad and drunkard’s hymn after another, with this new guy Farley–who joined the band pretty recently–playing a mean scratchy old fiddle and attacking a metal and pine washboard with a heavy file that literally sent sparks and sawdust flying all over the stage. The hirsute, larger-than-life James Felice assaulted his accordion with his typical zest, looming over the slight, nicotine-stained frame of brother Ian Felice, who played a messy guitar and “sang a song in a shaky voice that was real as the day was long.” Simone Felice, who plays the drums, stepped out from behind the kit to sing lead on a few tunes, and he was a true showman in his short pants, motorcycle boots and sleeveless tee shirt with a picture of Idaho on it. Christmas, the bass player, is “they shy one,” hanging out in the back and plugging away at the backbeat just to keep the rest of those drunken louts from spinning completely out of control. People got up out of their seats and danced in the aisles, shouting at the band in appreciation and ultimately giving the Ram’s Head a bit of a roadhouse feel at long last. Great. Fucking. Show.

After the last tune of their encore they jumped out into the audience, slapping backs and sharing a word or two, and then hit the street outside, where they opened the door of their shitty old Winnebago and produced boxes full of new CDs, including an updated, expanded copy of their “real” debut, called “Tonight At The Arizona,” as well as their own “bootleg” CD of a gig they played in Omaha, Nebraska, in late March (on my birthday, coincidentally). The tracks below are from that CD, and they give you a pretty good sense of what went down at the Ram’s Head. The problem apparently was that they were selling and happily signing these CDs on the street for almost nothing, thereby completely undercutting the merch shop inside the venue, where the same CDs were selling (or rather, not selling) for two or three times as much. So this lady from inside marched right out into the crowd on the street, got up in Simone Felice’s face and (I’m not making this up) started yelling at the top of her voice that the Felice Brothers would never play the Ram’s Head again if they didn’t stop selling their own CDs. Simone Felice looked her right in the eye, wrapped his arms around her, explained very calmly that they were going to do whatever they wanted and that they weren’t worried about being banned. Farley then started walking around waving cheap CDs over his head, shouting “The Ram’s Head says no, but we say yes!” The lady just sort of shook her head at that point and walked away. Once I got my CDs signed, I did the same.

The Felice Brothers – Hey, Hey Revolver
The Felice Brothers – Helen Fry