SOUTHERN CULTURE ON THE SKIDS
I don’t light up with a hot-rod Zippo, decorate my living room in leopard print, or collect Bettie Page merch, but thanks to an old roommate–who strode around the house singing “Banana Puddin’,” from Southern Culture on the Skids’ last album, 1997’s Plastic Seat Sweat, until I realized that it’s great precisely because it’s stupid–I’ve developed a healthy respect for the kitsch appeal of these Chapel Hill garage-rockabilly torchbearers. On record guitarist Rick Miller, bassist Mary Huff, and drummer Dave Hartman are about as innovative as their moniker is subtle, but I was won over for good by the over-the-top silly extravaganza of their live show even before they started tossing fried chicken into the crowd. (The band throws original recipe only, Miller explained to an Australian interviewer, because “the crispy stuff really hurts.”) Presumably for the price of admission to this New Year’s Eve show–$75–there will be enough drumsticks to go around; at the least the club promises an open bar and “party favors.” The Blacks open. Friday, December 31, 10 PM, Double Door, 1572 N. Milwaukee; 773-489-3160 or 312-559-1212. Michaelangelo Matos
Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): photo/James Crump–RSP.