For all of 2012 we had heard about how the Mayans predicted that the end of the world would occur in December, but the date just kind of snuck up on me. Pre-Columbian Mesoamerican civilizations are generally a reliable predictor of the future, so I put off paying my cable bill, and on the 21st I headed out to Lola’s Saloon. If the world is going to end, at least we can go out with some live music.
I got to Lola’s just at the tail end of The Effinays, and I totally missed Gunga Galunga, which just goes to show that my high school English teacher was also a good predictor of the future when she said I would be late to the end of the world. Still, Spoonfed Tribe was just going on, and while I couldn’t get anywhere near the stage, I was least able to get a stool in the back before things got really noisy.
Spoonfed did their usual explosive percussive therapy bit, and their drums, along with an occasional sax part by Jeff Dazey was just the stuff a proper apocalyptic evening is made of. The tribe consists of Egg Nebula (drums, flute, vocals), Jerome 57 (drums, bass, vocals), Sho Nuff (guitar, vocals, drums), Kaboom (drums, vocals) and Goofahtts (drums, vocals).
But Spoonfed wasn’t the end of it. Back in November we got a sneak preview of End of the World Parade, and what more appropriate act is there for the end of the world? It’s right there in the name.
End of the World Parade is a super group made up of Spoonfed tribesmen, members of The Effinays, Jeff Dazey, and pretty much all of the beautiful weirdoes in Funkytown. Performers included Marquis Jones, Julian Raj Ayacannoo, Tom Urquhart, Shadow, Valenti Thomas, Jay Wilson, Matt Cocuzza, Chad Cocuzza, Jerome 57, Troy Williams, Donnie McKean, Joker Demoss, Adria Bristow, Lauren Helper, Daniel Elmes, Scotty Ward, Crystal Cox and Jessica Glubke.
There really wasn’t a clear division between Spoonfed and End of the World Parade. At the end of the Spoonfed set, the Parade marched in from the front patio and joined up with musicians already on stage. Pretty girls climbed up on swings hung from the rafters, and others marched through the crowd with signs that read “Save Yourself” and “Peace.” There was a pirate with a bullhorn charging around (for some reason), and there was something going on any direction you cared to look. As the end of the show (and the world) approached, all the lights were blacked out, and the band wound up in a big circle in the center of the room. The pirate ordered everyone to sit on the floor, and most complied.
So the world didn’t, and I still have to pay my cable bill. Mayans or no, Funkytown will use any excuse to throw a party, and this kind of party is one of the reasons I love being in this town.
