Hearsay: Wednesday, June 5, 2003
Wingtip Concrete Shoes

Hats and bandanas off to the boys and gals at the Moon this past Sunday, where the Acoustic Mafia was doing its thing — allowing a group of singer-songwriters to take turns churning out rocking and rollicking acoustic music for the regulars and the unwashed (including HearSay; the gig’s been going on for a little more than half a year, and HearSay had never before deigned to make the trip up to Berry ... mainly for fear of facing a hangover the following day).

Watching the show and talking to some of the musos reminded HearSay of a trend your writer’s been noticing over the past few months: Bands and singer-songwriters are going cuckoo for singles. Flickerstick’s polishing up a major single that lead singer Brandin Lea says should be on the air within weeks; Collin Herring is finishing a single of his own; and John Price is itching to get a great new song of his on polycarbonate disc. With contraction having taken place across the industry, major labels are looking only for proven talent — acts, like the rappers of Wreckshop Records in H-town, that move 50,000 units independently; or acts that are in solid rotation in college and commercial radio stations across the states. Singles: A new movement? Possibly.

Good(-win) Shoe

In his weekly (or bi-weekly or whenever) e-mail, Goodwin’s Tony Diaz stole the words right out of HearSay’s big-ass mouth — Diaz’ subject line was “Why didn’t you come out?” The you in question would be, um, you, and the place would have been the Wreck Room, where Goodwin played last Saturday to a lamp, three chairs, seven people, and an empty beer bottle. OK, this paper probably deserves most of the blame for the lousy turnout: The dates in the Wreck Room ad last week were a little screwed up. Still, HearSay was positive that the Wreck, as a bar and a music venue, would have attracted its regulars, ’specially on a beautiful, balmy weekend night like last Sat. What happened? (Dan McGraw — where were YOU, you local-music junkie?!?) Diaz, after his band’s smoking set, blamed the lousy turnout on the Dismemberment Plan, playing at the Ridglea Theater as part of a farewell tour. Fine. But there’s never been any indication before that Wreck Room denizens were DP babies. (DP in the jukebox? Nope. DP on a bill? Nope.) Also, a co-worker who saw the DP said there weren’t that many people at the Ridglea. So HearSay’s not buying Diaz’ excuse. Your columnist’s two cents: Mavericks hangover. West Seventh is like Mavs central, and those playoffs were like one big, giant party in which everyone thought that those last few shots of Jaeger would keep real life at bay. Especially after a packed Friday night at the Wreck, you could understand why some music lovers might have wanted a Saturday night off. It’s too bad: One helluva show took place. Expect Goodwin’s first full-length disc in a few weeks.

Contact HearSay at hearsay@fwweekly.com.

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