I'd like to preface this by mentioning that I got a stern lecture from a part-time shuttle driver, full-time pastor on Saturday at the Houston Press Music Awards. I dropped too many F-bombs -- big freaking shock -- and the first thing that came to mind was how Chris Gray would be shaking his head and laughing at me. Missed you there, CG.
I got to Home Plate in time to see one of my favorite bands, Vivian Pikkles, discuss three invaluable things in life: Boys, Beers, and Burgers. I'll never get tired of hearing lead singer April scream about ordering a chicken sandwich and two tacos after a night of drinking and chiefing. It was also pretty cool to see Girls Rock Camp Houston represented at the show. A burger bank was passed around for donations as April announced that supporters could put their donations in their "burger slot." Hey-o!
Screwtape played next upstairs after VP and I was reminded again of how musically versatile Nosa Edebor is. He began his set on the guitar, singing melodically on pitch and then moved to the keyboard and rapped.
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One band whose performance I wanted to catch, but missed, was Sean Reefer and the Resin Valley Boys. The name alone painted a black light portrait of a Americana marijuana band. Lucky for me when we got into the pastor shuttle, the group was there. They practically serenaded my entrance with a bluegrass tune.
I got out of the van in time to catch the 4th overtime of the Texas A&M game in the V.I.P. Lounge before wandering over to Hollywood F.L.O.S.S. I recently saw F.L.O.S.S. open for Das Racist and loved how the full band transformed the energy of an impatient crowd of waiting hip-hop fans. Saturday night wasn't much different except for the fact that no one had been waiting two hours for a headliner. Everyone seemed like they were there to see him.
That's what I loved the most about Saturday -- there were no headliners; every band got a chance to showcase some of their music and gain some new fans.