An Americana "Billie Jean," Fried-Chicken Fight And More Great Shows From The Fabulous Satellite Lounge

[Part 2 of a three-part series. Read Part 1 here.]

Richard Thomspon:

LOM's brother-in-law called us on a Sunday afternoon and said Thompson was playing the Satellite that night; we'd heard nothing about it. Thompson had just released his rock record,

Mock Tudor

, and we went what we thought was early. Even though tickets were $25 (unheard of at Satellite), the place was packed like a sardine can, and we ended up watching the show from near the sound booth on the back wall. There were so many people the doors were left open and people stood out on the sidewalk to hear Dallas boy Michal Jerome on drums and Danny Thompson on bass - an amazing performance that night.

Dave Alvin & Robbie Fulks: LOM saw a handful of Alvin shows at the Satellite, and they were all torrid. Fulks was the opener, and walked out in an oversized white T-shirt and nothing but an acoustic guitar. It was apparent within minutes that he was shit-hammered drunk. But by the time he finished his set, the crowd wouldn't stop clapping and yelling until he came back for an encore. Fulks proceeded to blow every mind in the place with amazing Americana versions of ABBA's "Dancing Queen" and Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean."

Southern Culture on the Skids: These North Carolina crazoids always packed the joint. On this night, during their usual schtick of throwing pieces of fried chicken into the audience from the stage, things went awry. Some girl down front caught a piece, then threw it at another girl, whose boyfriend took offense. The fight was on, and within seconds, at least a dozen people were duking it out. The band, meanwhile, played on. SCOTS return to Continental Club next Friday and Saturday; read LOM's interview with bassist Mary Huff in next week's print edition.

C.C. Adcock: The "Lafayette Marquis" had just released his first album and the buzz was huge. But at his Wednesday night show at the Satellite, only a dozen or so showed up, including our two hillbilly mountain-men cousins from northern New Mexico. That still didn't keep the bass player from jumping off the stage and punching it out with someone who called him a fag. Adcock and the bouncers had to break it up. And LOM's cousins got their posters signed.

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