Rapping Accordion Man / May 11, 2012 / Corner of Court and Union

By: Sam Boyer, Blogs Editor / '90s Blogger

If you ever find yourself walking down Court Street in the early evening, chances are you'll come across a handful of street musicians. They come in all shapes and sizes. You have your garden variety acoustic serenaders, playful bongo players, and the odd violinist.

The bottom line is, if you really want to stand out as a street performer (and rake up some serious cash), you have to have a unique gimmick.

So why not learn to rap while playing the accordion?

It was still fairly early in the evening when my friends and I decided to head to The Union. Our original plan was to check out the Girls Rock Camp Benefit Show at Casa, but our hopes were dashed when the doorman refused to let one us in without an ID (which was kind of ridiculous considering that my friend was willing to pay more money at the door, but I digress). While we were traipsing down Athens' main drag grumbling about this grave injustice, we came across a group of boys standing at the corner of Court and Union (right in front of Whit's Frozen Custard). They were positively enthralled by a man sitting in a rather small camping chair with a very expensive-looking accordion resting on his lap.

This guy was an exceptionally talented accordionist. Like, on par with Weird Al Yankovic. I have a lot of respect for accordion players. I mean, have you ever tried to play one of those things? It's insanely difficult.

So normally I don't stop for street musicians. I know I'm not the only one. I'm usually in a hurry to get somewhere and I always feel awful when I don't have any cash to donate. And if this guy had just been jamming on his accordion, I probably would have walked on. But when I heard him start to rap, I just had to stay a while.

Accordion Man was a regular Biggie Smalls. I'm not even exaggerating. When my friends and I walked up to him, he was rapping about Athens. Some of it sounded pre-written, but a lot of it had to be improvised. The group of boys were cheering him on and one of them whipped out his phone and started recording. There's nothing like seeing a super talented white guy rapping over an unconventional instrument late at night. It kind of felt like a sideshow attraction, but in the coolest possible way.

When Accordion Man noticed that his audience had expanded to include three attentive girls, he immediately turned on the charm.

"You girls ever heard of Big L? Eh, maybe he was a little before your time. How old are you guys? Like 18, 19?"

We informed him that we were 20, thank you very much. He laughed, lit a cigarette and readjusted the accordion on his lap.

"Alright, so at least you guys are legal. Anyway, Big L was this rapper in the '90s. He was pretty offensive. Really misogynistic. I'll play one of his 'cleaner' songs."

"Cleaner" must have meant "only slightly misogynistic." Regardless of the subject matter, Accordion Man spit rhymes like a pro. He even improved a bit after the chorus, pausing only to take a drag of his cigarette.

We ended up standing there for a good 20-30 minutes. The group of boys left after a while, so we were the guy's only stationary audience. He would occasionally get heckled by drunk passersby, but his snarky attitude caught them off guard.

We ended up chatting between songs (and by chatting, I mean he openly flirted with me since I was the only one who carried on a conversation with him). I dropped a dollar in his collections basket (which is a pretty rare occurrence for me) and he began to play more "accordion-appropriate" tunes, including "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean." He got us to timidly sing along and we laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all.

My friends and I eventually decided to go on our merry way, but not before saying goodbye to Accordion Man and thanking him for his super rad set.

So if you ever see this guy on your way to a bar or a show, stop and give him a listen. It's worth it, I promise.

ACRN Presents: Tiny Moving Parts, BFF, Difficult Dogs, Sign Off / April 5 / Smiling Skull

By: Sam Boyer, Staff Writer / '90s Blogger

Shows at the Skull can go one of two ways: Appalachian-friendly country jam sessions, or all-out punk rock mayhem.

Thursday night was definitely the latter.

When I approached the Skull, I could already hear the guttural screams of Sign Off threatening to blow the wooden door wide open.

“Well, this is going to be interesting,” I remarked to my concert buddy, Carolyn Menyes.

We took the two or three steps to the general vicinity of the stage and stood near the back of the crowd. I immediately noticed that the audience had basically segregated itself into the boy camp and the girl camp. The boys stood at the front taking in the action, while the girls hung back and stared bemusedly at the band.

I was honestly a little wary of Sign Off at first. The abrasive vocals caught me off guard, but I gave them a chance and it was worth it.

They had this filthy grunge sound that rubbed me the right way. It was a little reminiscent of the Melvins. The bass was sludgy (in a good way), but still had that punk rock bounce to it. Though it’s obvious that I’m partial to bass, I was also really impressed with the drum work. The beat was clean enough to stand out, but also kept the guitar and bass on the same page. I recall giving the drummer a polite golf clap at the end of a song (you know, out of respect.)

What really made Sign Off’s set interesting was the crowd’s response. A handful of guys standing at the front was getting really into it. I noticed a few of them singing (screaming?) along to some of the songs. It really warms my heart to see a smaller band connect with an audience like that.

I particularly loved the synchronized head bobbing going on. The one thought going through my head was, “Yes, my little grunge chickens. Dance. DANCE.”

Things lightened up a bit when BFF took the stage. They had more of a blink-182(ish) pop-punk sound, which was a nice contrast to the heaviness of Sign Off. Their crowd was noticeably larger, but their set was fairly short and I’m kind of disappointed that I didn’t get to hear more.

Though I unfortunately had to miss Tiny Moving Parts and Difficult Dogs, I’m sure they did a great job. I’ll catch you guys another time, I promise.

Oh, and Sign Off? You get the Rad Band of the Night award. Congrats!

High Castle, Pigeonholes, Nurser, and Hippie Grinder / September 15, 2011 / The Smiling Skull

By: Sam Boyer, Staff Writer | '90s Blogger

My first venture to The Smiling Skull was marked by some apprehension. As a socially awkward sophomore, the thought of wandering beyond Court Street filled me with a ridiculous sense of dread. Translation: I’m really weird and I don’t like hanging out with people. But I’m a big girl now, and I have the ability to traipse around Athens like I own the damn place. Kind of.

Now that we’ve established the proverbial “popping” of my local venue cherry, I can get into the super rad experience that ensued.

The Smiling Skull looks slightly menacing upon first glance, but inside lies the coziest little hole-in-the-wall you ever did see. And by cozy I mean littered with (sometimes X-rated) graffiti and various vintage beer signs. Home sweet home.

The first band up was Pigeonholes, a pop-punk outfit from Parkersburg, W. Va. As I am partial to bands of the punk persuasion, I dug these guys. They were playful and had the three-chord progression thing down pat. The lead singer had a permanent smile plastered on his face, which translated to my face. If you’re happy, I’m happy, dude. And if you name one of your songs “This Coke Tastes Like Pepsi,” you automatically get my seal of approval.

The Skull started to fill up pretty quickly after the first set, but it wasn’t claustrophobia-inducing. One reason why I prefer The Skull over The Union: Atmosphere. There isn’t a ton of space, but the close quarters make for the dank bar equivalent of a group hug. “You smell like PBR and sweat. Let’s be friends!”

But I digress. Nurser was up next, and since I am ignorant to the local scene, I kept an open mind. Unfortunately, Nurser didn’t quite woo me the way Pigeonholes did. The former is a noise-rock band, so comparing the two is absurd. But after a few songs, I came to the conclusion that Nurser is just not my cup of tea. Too much noise, not enough rock. But that’s just my humble opinion. I am not the master of local music.

Due to the fact that I hadn’t eaten much all day, I only caught a few songs during High Castle’s set. What I did hear was fantastic. West Coast punks always rub me the right way. They kind of had an early Green Day thing going on, and considering my GD obsession, that is a very good thing.

I regret not seeing Hippie Grinder, but hopefully they come back around. My expectations for a “hardcore punk” band are very high.