Don't Blame Me...I Voted For The Whigs

After a mostly hellacious week peppered with customer service blues and legends morphing into shams (Big Papi), I skipped out of work Friday, elated, school's out for summer style, to change, pick up Chrissty, get the Mazda's oil changed, and head up to Macon to see friends and the Whigs return to The Hummingbird Stage and Taproom.

After the three and a hour trip, long because of 300 yards in 45 minutes due to an abandoned SUV and sedan in the emergency lane (I'm guessing it was an accident) and scattered Amazon Forest rainstorms, we made it to The Riverview Hotel and Ballroom where Travis and Steph had already rented a room to pass out in after the show. We've stayed there before during past quests for fine original tunes and stayed there again, not because of its service and quality, but for the price and proximity to downtown.

It's a place where the elevators go up but not down, laptops and CD's are hidden in trunks, and where the views don't include rivers of any kind, instead settling for dilapidated brick buildings and a probation office for gazing. Though, to the Riverview's credit, the sheets seem clean (although I forgot to borrow 20/20's blacklight), the A/C works, and we've never experienced a 3 a.m. hooker and/or crack addict's tap tap on the door wake-up call.

It was great seeing Travis and Steph, especially considering it had been a few months since their Valdosta visit. To my surprise, Dickey had decided to come to the show, which was great because I would have felt terrible making the trip to Macon without seeing him. It was early so we stopped for a bite to eat at Acapulco. I cannot say much about the food as I only ate a single taco, but it was tasty, and what I would expect from any similar Valdosta Mexican eatery. Everyone else seemed to enjoy their meals with no complaints. The margarita pitcher Travis and I split was a bit watered down but it did its job inducing the buzz that got the night started off perfectly.

After making our way into The Hummingbird, and realizing I wasted $4.44 in ticket processing fees because I bought our tickets online and Dickey purchased his at the door for the same $10, we made our way to the bar. I had every intention of sipping a frothy black and tan but the $2 PBR special played its siren's song into my belly all night.

The Hummingbird is the type of watering hole that Valdosta desperately needs. It boasts the laid back vibe of a college bar while still providing a dimmed lights hang out where conversation then quality, original music thrive over underages throwing up their fourth meal on vintage suede. The front boasts rock posters of bands to come while the brick walls inside are decorated with music paraphernalia including the infamous poster of Johnny Cash flipping the bird above the bar.

It hadn't changed much since my last visit to see Modern Skirts a few years ago. Although, out back, a deck with cornhole and a massive screen showing the stage for the outsiders viewing pleasure had been added. While Chrissty and Steph secured a table near the stage, we enjoyed a few games of what I called "bean bass toss" until I was corrected and learned that cornhole is actually taken pretty seriously. We tossed the bags long enough for the smell of soured vinyl to seep into my skin (10-15 minutes) and made our way back to the table for the opening band, Vulture Whale.

I sat back and enjoyed the Birmingham, Ala. quartet as I sipped on number three. At times they reminded me of The Replacements, Modest Mouse, and Valdosta's own Ninja Gun. They were good, don't get me wrong, but nothing got me off my seat to join the masses nodding around the stage. Maybe it was the contemplative mood I was in, or that I had achieved the perfect angle of slouch. Either way I enjoyed their set from my seat and anxiously waited for The Whigs.

When the time seemed right I made my way to the front of the stage where I met Travis and was later joined by the rest of our posse. The stage at the Hummingbird is the size of a train station locker and is raised maybe a foot off the ground. Therefore, being at the front is practically standing amidst the on-stage thrash. The Athens trio made their way out egged on by the Atlanta Braves' tomahawk chop chant. Grabbing their instruments they got into two newbies, then grooved straight into "Production City," a track off their second album "Mission Control."

From the beginning it was clear that Parker Gispert, lead vocals/guitar, has been getting the hang of things since the two years I had seen him last. He and the band put on a great show then, but now his Gumby contortions weren't just confined to the basement. He was more involved with his audience, weaving ice cold (alright, alright, alright) stares with one legged pogo-stick antics and even bringing it to the masses, once getting so close that he almost knocked my teeth out with his guitar neck. Luckily for my parents, their hard earned money on orthodontia was not wasted.

Bassist Tim Deaux looked comfortable and has clearly found a new home replacing founding member, Hank Sullivant, while drummer Julian Dorio continues the awe inspiring work that led to an Esky award for best drummer in 2007 by Esquire magazine.

As David Letterman remarked after the trio rocked his show, "thatta boy, nice going, now that was cool," the same goes for Saturday night's performance. Highlights included "Violet Furs," "Half the World Away" and "Nothing is Easy" from their debut "Give 'Em All a Big Fat Lip," and "Already Young" from "Mission Control." The night culminated perfectly with dripping sweat and the bar erupting to "Right Hand On My Heart," which would have been the perfect ending to their set but they decided to end with another tune, which I don't remember. I'll blame it on number 5. (yes, journalism at its finest.)

The new stuff sounded pretty good and I'm anxious for more listens before their new album comes out either late this year or in early 2010. The band played "Technology," the single highlighted by "Rolling Stone" during The Whigs' 2006 "Band to Watch" days, which is usually one my favorites, but this live performance seemed to lack the alt pop flair that makes it so. Instead it was churned with rock heavy guitars that caused Travis to lament that the band had sold out. I don't agree and I think for him it was probably the 420's talking or maybe the bitterness over Ron Paul not being pres projecting itself. Correct me if I'm wrong, good sir.

As the band is about to tour with Kings of Leon, opening for them at places like The Forum, it was remarkable that they returned to such a small venue. I never thought they would play The Hummingbird again, so Saturday was an unforgettable treat.