Hey we’re actually playing live before Holt goes to Europe and Trey tears up the Southwest!

Saturday, Sept. 2nd at Barley House – Dallas – Show starts with us at 10;30 and then airline follows (note; we now are playing first)

We’ll have plenty of time to plow thru just about the entire catalog.

I usually post geyser-sized plumes of praise for my favorite bands, friends and artists. Because of this, there is no way to go beyond it when something truly wonderful comes along. Annoying preamble aside, let me make the following statement:

There has never nor will there ever be a Texas band as good as Ten Hands.

All others myself included are mere pretenders compared to them. Even after a 15 year hiatus Ten Hands delivered a show last night I’ll never forget. I literally held back tears of joy as I listened to tune after tune played with the same energy, verve, humor and passion as when they were THE band in Dallas. You can say I suffer from good-ol’ days syndrome, but objectively I can’t name another band that matches their combination of musicianship, song-smithing, improvisation, originality and stage presence.

The fans filled up the stage-side and many were dancing and singing along even more ecstatically than myself. Many intricacies within each song could have easily been omitted or dumbed down for the one-off performance. They rehearsed a mere two hours Sunday afternoon to ensure that each beat stab, off-timed stop and ending dive was there. Every part was effortlessly recreated so that more attention could be paid to the energy driving it. They also did two off-the-cuff improvs about Club Dada and Beard the Doorman. Any other band would have spent hours trying to craft something with similarly complex sonics and lyrics. Ten Hands just played ’em like they had known ’em for years.

Rather than drone on and on about it, just watch a bit of it here and listen here too.

Two of my all-time favorite bands are reuniting for single shows in the next coupla weeks – Ten Hands (Dada 7/30) and Fever in the Funkhouse (Dada 7/25) !

I will never forget the first time I saw Ten Hands. It was literally the last day of high school in 1987 and a bunch of friends were going down to the West End to see New Bohemians that evening. Opening for them was this interesting band from UNT that sounded a lot like Adrian Belew/King Crimson – especially the guitar player. They had a Chapman Stick guy as good as Tony Levin in place of bass – too cool. The lead singer was full of quirky energy and banged the hell out of his keyboard. But the rhythm section – the drummer and percussionist – sheesh it was music all by itself. Totally impressed, I made a mental note to see them again.

Over the course of the summer I must have seen Ten Hands at least a dozen times. They played a weekly Wednesday gig at The Prophet Bar and not many people came to those shows – usually just me and my friends. It was like they were ‘my’ band. I would always stand close to the stage and dance my white ass off to their groovy tunes. They used that night to work on a lot of new material like ‘Love is the Question‘. Even as badass as they were it was fun to watch them screw up the opening stabs of the song. They would just make up songs during parts of the show – asking the audience for subject matter and then creating a wonderfully weird melodies and lyrics out of thin air. Many of those improvisations were turned into regular songs by the next week. Sometimes they would just let the percussion section jam for an hour. I loved every minute of it.

Before I moved to Austin for college I kept hearing about the town’s legendary music scene. I couldn’t wait to see what all the fuss was about. Unfortunately I left show after show under whelmed by almost all of the bands there. Most were comprised of sloppy players who wrote really forgettable songs. Luckily, Ten Hands made it down there a few times. People were really blown away by them – they had never heard such professionals before. I though it was really funny when Ten Hands would have to open for a shitty band like “I really can’t remember any names”. By the end of a set, the crowd who came to see the headliner was won over.

Two years later, things were very different. Ten Hands had gathered a huge flock of fans and they were playing to capacity crowds at Deep Ellum Live. By this time they had replaced drummer Matt Chamberlain with Earl Harvin. I didn’t think the band could get any better, but of course they did. Earl was simply a monster – easily the best drummer Dallas had ever seen. My friend Sam was buddies with Mike the percussionist and so we got to hang out with the band backstage before the gig. I asked Paul what it was like to go from playing for 5 people to 500 in such a short time. He was totally nonchalant about the whole thing.

I kept waiting to hear that Ten Hands had signed some big record contract. The world needed to hear this band. After all, they had songs like ‘Old Eyes’ which could have been mistaken for Peter Gabriel. I gathered that the band wouldn’t compromise it’s odd style for anyone and was happy to remain independent. They released several cds, but my all-time favorite was their initial cassette, Kung Fu – That’s What I Like. The Greenhouse Effect still gives me chills.

As the years rolled on, members came and went and at one point the band sort of tried to embrace that grunge rock garbage. Paul had even traded his keys for a guitar. They still played to a lot of people, but I wasn’t into it as much. I wanted the old band back. Eventually the band split up. They had a helluva run though.

In the last several years the band has reunited, with almost all of the original lineup, to play a sold-out shows at Dada. I don’t think they even rehearse – but hell, they don’t need to. The last reunion show I attended, the material sounded as fresh and energetic as it did 15 years ago. It will be a blast to see them again.

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I first heard Fever in The Funkhouse when they opened for Ten Hands at 500 cafe (also the former Xpo). At that time the club had a great outdoor theater and it was filled up with fans buzzing about ‘The Next New Bohemians’. “We’ll see about that,” I thought. Fever had the same instrumentation as the New Bo’s, but to be honest, I really didn’t like what I heard. In my opinion they were unfocused and hadn’t really found their own sound. It was kind of New-Bo Lite to me.

About a year later I gave them another try. Everyone had grown up after numerous shows and tours. The sound was more southern and their own. They had lost the percussionist, which allowed drummer Brian Wakeland to shine. If you haven’t guessed, I’m really into drummers – no question they either make or break a band. I can’t say exactly what I like about Brian’s playing – I just like it. Nick Brisco had lost the nerdy glasses and looked and sang like a true rock star. He had written these gritty songs like Piss In The Wind and King Of White Trash. Really catchy stuff.

The most talented member by far was guitarist Chris Claridy. He never made a mistake playing memorably intricate picked hooks and slides. A true professional, he never was showy – he always held back a bit. He wouldn’t unleash a wild solo I know he was capable of – which created this sort of warm aching tension, like your veins calling for nicotine when none is around. I could watch him play for hours.

From then on, I made it a point to see them every chance I got. Like Ten Hands, when Fever would come to Austin they would open for some shitty band and absolutely destroy them. The Austin flavor of the day would sheepishly take the stage, dazed and confused by the aural decadence that had come before them. I loved it. I would be mean and shout out, “I’d hate to be the band that has to follow that!” But really I WOULD hate to be that band. Fever in the Funkhouse was that good.

They had everything – the look, a powerful lead singer, a superb rhythm section, an unmatched guitar player and most importantly, great songs with hooks everywhere. I was thrilled when I heard they got signed. Unfortunately their A&R guy left the label and the replacement didn’t ‘get’ them. Later they were dropped and eventually the band broke up. I often think that Fever would have exceeded the success of The Black Crows if given the chance. They really should have been that band from Dallas that everyone around the world knows. Still, I can’t wait to see what they come up with this Tuesday at Dada.

Rock!