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!
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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.
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.