When Robert Plant wanders in the desert, let’s say to find inspiration for “Big Log 2: Even Bigger Log,” he takes the stage at Pappy and Harriet’s Pioneertown Palace. That is where Fogelfoot will play June 19.
Pioneertown was founded as a vast western movie set in 1946 by Hollywood investors including Roy Rogers and Gene Autry, and more than 50 movies were shot there before the nation lost its heart to “Free Willy.” Pioneertown simply couldn’t compete. But now the town is a vibrant piece of meta-Americana and Pappy’s, which opened as a cantina in 1972 has been host to hundreds of acts, including Plant, Cracker, and Eagles of Death Metal.
The occasion is a benefit for Roy’s Desert Resource Center and four bands will be playing, including Fogelfoot and Sons of the Lawless, a band whose drummer is Jake Busey.
I said to Jake Busey, I said: “If your band kicks the fraction of ass you and Michael Ironside did in ‘Starship Troopers,’ well, it’s gonna be a good show.”
Now Pappy and Harriet’s is one of those places with license plates covering the walls, sawdust covering the floors, and an enclosed, open air performance area that resembles a rectangular bullfighting ring, with the stage at one end and a bar (Thank God) at the other, with Joshua Trees on either side, coyotes in the distance, and the California stars wheeling overhead. Also? An even bigger log.
The group is staying in nearby Desert Hot Springs for a vision quest.
The show begins with a band called The Bullfighters at 6:45. Suggested donation is $10.
These Fogelphotos were recently snapped by our good friend Paulina Merekiova.
Like Mother Abigail in “The Stand” – and yet absolutely not like Mother Abigail in “The Stand” – Fogelfoot makes a desert journey to the famous Pappy and Harriet’s in Pioneertown on June 19, where it will play its haunting murder ballads, horror pop, and alternative history ditties on a bill that also features Sons of the Lawless, Rabbit And Riutherford, and the Bullfighters.
We’re very excited about this show, the proceeds of which benefit the Desert Resource Center, because we need to return some peyote.
See also: Pappy And Harriet’s
In the Fall of 1994 I watched a Heart cover band play on Cape Cod. The singer, a morbidly obese woman, foreshadowed the big-bonedness of Heart lead singer Ann Wilson. Other than that, the band was awful and I developed an aversion to tribute bands except those non-existent ones whose names I invented, including:
- The Bloody Well Righteous Brothers, a Supertramp Tribute Band
- Coldplay, a Radiohead Tribute Band
- The Vibrating Silver Bullets, a Bob Seger Tribute Band Comprised of Marital Aids
But last week I ventured to the wilds of Thousand Oaks to see The Long Run, an Eagles tribute band, and they changed my mind about how good (and even preferable to the real thing) a covers outfit could be.
Here is my review:
Until I saw The Long Run this weekend, I thought of the Eagles as a background, if constant, presence on classic rock radio that I would never consider forking over 300 bucks to see. And, having no other tribute band experience, I figured that The Long Run might be a group of well-meaning fans who’d be lucky to tell their colitas from their elbows.
But The Long Run had the audience from the beginning and never once took it for granted. I was amazed by the band’s musicianship and tight multiple harmonies and, through its performance, have a new respect for the work of the Eagles.
It was one of those experiences that I felt I was in the right place at the right time, and understood the value of an excellent tribute band.
Not only did The Long Run deliver note-perfect renditions of Eagles’ favorites, but they also did it with enthusiasm and love for the source material that was infectious. The band connected with the audience as only fans can, except that the people onstage had serious chops.
Having often been disappointed by the sulky live performances of some of my favorite bands (The Pixies, White Stripes, and various incarnations of Black Sabbath broke my heart), I couldn’t help but think that, aside from not seeing Henley, Frey, Walsh, and Co. in person (or as tiny figures on a stage a football field away, on my budget), I was seeing the better performance.
After all, The Long Run played the music that connected with them both as fans and musicians. As an audience member, I often get antsy when listening to a deep cut or unfamiliar material; the agreement an audience makes with a band is that you have to take the familiar with the potentially-less-fun familiar. The Long Run took that awkwardness out of the equation.
I like that I was five rows away, I like that each of the seven guys (most of whom were named Gary, for some reason) was clearly happy to be there, and I loved that The Long Run has inspired me to turn the radio way up the next time “Life in the Fast Lane” comes on.
There are already several high-quality Fogelfoot tribute bands, including:
- Just So You Know, Lance Crow
- Uncle Tina
- Jose Fellatiano
That said, Fogelfoot’s prices are still reasonable enough to justify seeing the originals, and we couldn’t care less whether or not Walden Woods is made into a Payless Show Source parking lot. Concord needs the money.
See also: The Long Run
Fogelphiles