The Rockstarter

When Billy, my little brother, was a wee bairn, he dreamed of becoming a "rockstarter" when he "grew up."  I'm not sure about the "grown up" bit yet, but he has succeeded in the "rockstarter" department.

In 2005, my brother and his good friend, Terry Turtle, formed Buck Gooter.

Cats are cool.

I was there for their first show and I attended their 250ish this past Saturday at the Galaxy Hut in Arlington.  The first show was, erm, well ... it was a first show.  I respected the hell out of them for getting up there and doing their thang, especially considering their "thang" involved a theremin and a rattle of some sort played(?) by my brother and an acoustic guitar with an effects pedal played by Terry.  Not your normal, every day music shenanigans.

Billy still plays the theremin, but his repertoire has grown to include a drum machine, sytlophone, synth, a little iPod and <other things I can't identify>.  In his words, it's "just a bunch of non-instruments."  Crammed into boxes, bags and an old suitcase, it all looks a mess to me, but he's up there like a little mad scientist turning that shit into music, entertaining the hooligans in the crowd.

That theremin has seen a lot in its day.

And sometimes there's an umbrella.

I don't know how to talk about music.  When I find a new band or song or artist I like, I typically say, "I like this band/song/artist.  They play music good."  Succinct, to the point, not a lot of flowery language.  Music does move me and it makes me feel things and I get excited about 'discovering' new artists, but I struggle with articulating the why.  Rather than stumble my way through it, I'm going to let some other people talk about BG in my stead:

Jason writes on his blog,  7 inches, "..."Devil Worship" which has that thin, fuck-the-drums repetitive loop running under a mess of distorted snake guitar work from Terry who along with Brat are yelling through a shitty house PA about ... you guess it, devil worship.  You can hear the audience yelling along with them, there's no regular melody, this is based in pure expression.  I will always hold something like this up a little higher than a commercially successful band who is making a living."

Pretty nice words, those.

Found on Heathen Harvest:

"Listening to Bad Vibrations, the new CD by Mr. Buck Gooter, you hear the duality of juxtaposition between Buck's caterwauling, cacophonous railing; screaming, snarling, gnashing and whatnot ... The tunes are rockin' brainy, syncopated sprawling with a hind of jazz technique thrown in.


One can't help thinking to oneself if this is a white-trash parady of trailer park life, a punk-rock free-style or some sort of crypto-intellectualizing with a ciphered message.  Whatever the intention, one gets a kind of involuntary head-banging, arm-shaking, foot-stomping reaction from listening to it."

Yeah, what he said.

They're not all glowing reviews:  Terminal Boredom says, "..."Devil Worship" is recorded live in some bar-n-grill in Harrisonburg, VA, which seems to be just a bunch of drunks screaming over a drum machine. Sounds like the fleeting 4:00am moments of a bad karaoke night."

Pfft.  What does he know?

KARAOKE!

My love of Buck Gooter flows largely from my love for Billy, but there are a number of songs I genuinely enjoy in their own right.  I'll admit, not all of it is for me; sometimes it's too loud and screamy and hurts my ears, but many loyal fans love them for that very reason.  Whether you love 'em or hate 'em, they're out there doing it and I am a proud big sister.  Last weekend they wrapped up a 13-show mini-tour across a little chunk of the ol' USofA:

Buck Gooter gets around.  The slut.

Despite the small crowd, there was a lot of energy at Galaxy Hut Saturday night, and I think both Buck Gooter and Mounds -- one of the bands they were touring with -- feel they went out on a high note.

One thing I can say for sure is that my brother puts on a good show. Don Zientara, owner of Inner Ear recording studio, said of Billy and BG, "It takes some bands years to figure out how to get put on a show like that and have that kind of presence on stage."  Don has recorded Fugazi, Joe Lally, O.A.R., and Henry Rollins, to name a few, and is a heck of a musician himself, so he would know.

As a big sister, it makes me squeamish to see stuff like this:

(please don't hurt yourself)

But that squeamishness dissipates when I sit back and watch fans come up to them after the show, singing (screaming?) their praises.  People genuinely enjoy talking to and being around my brother (I mean, I've always known he's great, but it's nice to see other people recognize that as well) and damn they love them some Buck Gooter.  You see, not only is Billy a good entertainer and quite the crowd-pleaser, he has a presence that draws people in.  He puts folks at ease by doing nothing more than being himself and he has a network of friendships that span the country to prove it.

And of course Terry plays a huge part in this as well.  I don't mean to diminish his involvement or talent in any way; I went into this post planning to focus on my bro, 'cause that's what big sis bloggers do.  (Ew.  I just called my self a "blogger").  But rest-assured, Terry is a talented mo-fo, he's a part of the family, and we love him to pieces.

Little Penny loves her "T".

(This is ridiculously long. I will stop writing now. I have a Red Bull to finish.)

In conclusion, I would love to see that first show again, just to truly appreciate how far they have come in the last seven years.  Billy says, "We've been around a while, we do what we do, and try our best most of the time."  Succinct, to the point, not a lot of flowery language.  Siblings.

In another seven years, when we're all flying around with our jet packs, maybe I'll think back to this moment and I'll write a "14 Years of  Buck Gooter" post.  Of course we'll all be jacked in using our Google Glasses or something and I'll just be able to think my blog into creation.  The future.

Let that tambourine flutter.

One more thing... I spent $8 on Saturday night -- $5 to get into the bar and $3 on Mounds' CD.  I regret nothing.