![]() He is at the centre of a cacophony of sound, a complexity of music that flows around and through the crowd. ![]() His calves are strong, used to this demanding activity.Īnd so he shuffles across the stage, his left foot giving two kicks for each one of the right. His heels are strapped to the frame, each step banging a big bass drum or clashing the cymbals together. The head is tied to a drumstick, which plays a snare on the contraption above him. The guitar is mounted on his belt and is spun during his renditions of Elvis, accompanied by strobing lights. It is studded with harmonicas, a whole “schwack” of the mouth organs, as the musician puts it. His guitar boasts a wooden fish and a reel. It serves as the technical ambassador between the one man band and our stage. Right now, the radio is mated to our own sound system at the Fair. But inside this make-believe antique hums an incredibly powerful sound system, slides and sound outputs designed to work independently using the power flowing from batteries inside the cart the radio sits on. (His grandfather was a big man, laughs the musician). The cabinet is shaped like a monstrous radio of old, a wooden dinosaur he claims came from his grandfather's kitchen. It also contains the wireless microphones that beam the sound generated by this Frankenstinian melding of high and low technology to a massive wooden cabinet looming just off stage. He hoists a framework of percussion onto his back, a fifty pound welded aluminum collection of drums and cymbals, rattles and a tambourine. His is an act not only of co-ordination and musical talent it is also a test of strength. Orange shirt, dark glasses, fedora, he stretches on stage in preparation for the upcoming labours.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |