| << Back 2/2/05 Over Yonder Jamboree The Great Gordo’s Guide to Music in Asheville By Jay Hardwig Hammell on Trial I will never forget the first time I saw Hammell on Trial. It was in Austin, in the early 90s — I know, I know, all my stories start that way — and I was swilling Lone Star on the patio of Chances, one of the finest lesbian volleyball clubs in town. I lived with a bunch of musicians at the time, and Ed Hammell had invited them to split the bill with him on that night. None of us had ever heard of Ed — he had recently moved to town from upstate New York — but a gig was a gig, and we were happy to be there. When Hammell’s turn came to play, we watched a short, squat bald man stroll on stage with a battered old acoustic and set up squarely in front of the microphone. With little fanfare, he launched upon a set that was nothing short of revelatory: beating the bloody hell out of that 1937 Gibson, he spoke, sang, and shouted songs built from equal parts fury, cynicism, comedy, and truth. It was poetry, it was punk, it was rock-n-roll, and Hammell on Trial had us hooked. Before long, he was drawing 500 fans and more to his weekly showcase at the Electric Lounge, one of the hippest joints in town, holding court as an anti-folk icon in a town full of hipsters. He was part jester — he told more bad jokes from the stage than anyone I’ve ever seen, and we loved every one of them — and part messenger, sending knowing dispatches from the grimy world of small-time drug dealers, petty thugs, and losers of every stripe. He knew what he believed, and blasted hypocrisy wherever he saw it. And he saw it in a lot of places. Three songs still stand out from those live shows, and each in its way reflects the spirit of a Hammell on Trial show. The first is “Blood of the Wolf,” a wistful and well-spun but ultimately comic tale about his friend Frank, who at the age of 15 robbed the local Kentucky Fried Chicken with a fork. It always drew a laugh. The second is “Big as Life,” a brilliant piece that ties a dream about Count Basie to a story about pulling a pregnant crackhead out of a barroom bathroom to make a piercing point about racism and the trap of our own assumptions. It always drew genuine applause. The third is a live staple of Hammell’s: a monologue about the raw emotion of Johnny Cash’s Live at Folsom Prison album, followed by a breakneck rendition of “Folsom Prison Blues.” It always drew yee-haws, and more than a few. He deserved ‘em all. It’s been eight years since I’ve seen Hammell on Trial — I know, I know, all my stories end that way — but here’s betting he’s up to the same tricks. Since my last time in the tent, he’s released a string of albums on Mercury, Polygram, and Ani DiFranco’s Righteous Babe Records. He’s recovered from a horrific car crash in 2000 — his next album was titled Ed’s Not Dead — and returned to the road with his punk-folk attitude happily intact. Consider this confession from “Halfway,” the second song on 2003’s Tough Love: “I’m a self-righteous prick, with a great big mouth/ But I’m sick to death of mediocrity and lies.” Yup. Sounds like the Hammell I know is live and well. The show starts at 8 p.m. (I think) with an opening set from the Moaners,
a Yep Roc duo that pairs former Trailer Bride front woman Melissa
Swingle with the punk drummer Laura King. Call 828.232.5800 for
ticket prices, and while you’re at it, confirm that start
time. Also Playing in Asheville • Greg Allman w/ Tony Furtado, Orange Peel, 2/3 1. “John Lennon,” from The Chord is Mightier Than
the Sword “I’m a rock and roll show. Period. I love Iggy and the Stooges, Lou Reed, the MC5. Folk singers bore me. Insincerity incites me.” — Ed Hamell of Hammell on Trial |
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