I went to see the father of my friend play with his country band at the highway 99 blues bar tonight. Highway 99 is across from the Aquarium and seated next to an antique shop. It lies beneath the foothills of Seattle, a short distance from the ferry terminal; if it weren’t for the large, seemingly displaced, and dimly lit sign a person would probably walk down the street (most likely the other side since that is where all the water and the tourist action is happening) passing by without acknowledging it. Although it was a Wednesday night and we were witnessing a rarely known band playing a style unusual to the venue, it is probably the Highway 99’s location that lured an intimate crowd of 12 into a space that could easily facilitate 200.
The 5 man band mostly played covers from the late 50s to the early 60s- the Beatles, The Birds, Elvis Presley, Santo & Johnny- most a little too up tempo for my taste but nonetheless technically flawless; the beat of the music cranked the dance-ability on high although nobody was dancing on the tempting, empty linoleum floor, probably tended to by the bar tender who didn’t wash her hands. Everyone, aged 50 plus (except maybe for the long haired bassist who should have been playing tool covers), was dressed in black. The lead singer wore a black blazer over his black shirt and sweat profusely because of it. My very thoughtful boyfriend astutely observed while sipping on a can of cheap beer, “you know when old people sweat, and they get a little tired… well they don’t look very good at all”. This remark brought me back to the meat market gym at school where sweating was sexy for all the young people. I pushed that nightmare out as fast as I could and focused again on the middle aged sweating man singing “and then he kissed me” and dripping all over his electro acoustic guitar. This lead singer, Dennis, just had to crack a joke or make kisses into the microphone after every song. As I sat and listened I half dreaded half waited with sick pleasure for the next lame comment. I should have kept track but they must have taken up at least half of the show. He would babble on about how they pronounce repertoire, say things like “you guys are lucky, we only play this song once every gig”, and when they played a Honky Tonk song, he declared “you are now entering Oklahoma, you are no longer in Seattle” in a semi mystical voice. During a song I think he winked at me. He and the electric guitar player would do half assed old man Elvis moves also but that’s “showbiz” I guess. This band also had a steel guitar player, who showed up an hour late, but tardiness was only a minor offense after hearing Santo & Johnny’s Sleepwalk. The man who looked like the mafia mayor of Las Vegas in a cowboy hat and glasses could have made an ogre weep with his steel guitar. I think I was the most impressed by the drummer’s astounding ability to sing and play at the same time (and to look off into space whenever Dennis would start talking in between songs). People just don’t seem to do that anymore. In fact, I liked the distribution of singers in this band- the drummer, Dennis, and the electric guitar player. Having so many singers made up for Dennis’ ego issues.
I’d like to see what kind of crowd really goes to these shows. They usually play every week at the red hen on Thursdays, which is a Country and Western bar suitable for a band like that. And the people dance there, too. I can imagine these guys have a pretty decent following, for they are not just a cover band, but they have some “pretty good originals that are worth hearing”, or so the drummer says.
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