A brief break from Piccolo! (But let me just say that The Cody Rivers Show, which I saw tonight, is one of the most unique, inventive, straight-up brilliant live productions ever. The aquarium bit alone is worth the price of admission.)
So last night I went to see Robbie Fulks at the Village Tavern; he played with just himself and another guitarist (Robbie Gjersoe) and it was easily one of the best performances I’ve seen in Charleston, much less at the Tavern. They played for over two hours, these two finger-pickin’ wondermen, singing their hearts out…to an empty room. I could’ve counted everyone watching them play on two hands. In fact, there were 10 people watching. Now, there were more people THERE, but they couldn’t have cared less that this man, who’s been playing music for over THIRTY YEARS and who regularly sells out venues in Chicago and San Francisco, was ripping shit apart onstage. No, chatted up potential one-night-stands at the bar or played pool in the back so loudly that you could hear the constant *crack* of the pool balls over the music. The two Robbies took it all in stride like professionals, taking requests from the faithful few and making the occasional witty remark about playing in a strip mall.
When they played “Georgia Hard,” the title cut from Fulks’ fantastic 2005 album, I went all fangirl and took a video. I mean, this is what technology’s for, right? To capture the moments you wish could go on forever?
The concert was amazing, but I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed for my city and regretful that I hadn’t written a better article, something that would’ve possibly maybe lured some of the people who helped sell out the Charleston Music Hall last time Ryan Adams came to town. These guys are 10,000 times the musicians Ryan Adams is (and listen, I luuuurve me some Ryan Adams), and I guarantee that anyone who enjoyed either of Ryan’s recent shows here would’ve fallen in love with Robbie Fulks and his aw-shucks, unapologetically authentic old-school twang. And not only did he have an incredible voice and mad guitar skills, he turned the evening into something of an Opry-style variety show, but brainy and sarcastic — between songs, Fulks became a smiling, world-weary stand-up comedian, rapping with the audience (well, one guy in the audience) and doing impressions of Merle Haggard (Right after playing his song “Sleepin’ on the Job of Love,” Fulks improvised a hilarious little ditty called “Fixin’ to Quit” that was spot-on Haggard), Willie Nelson, and Jimmie Dale Gilmore.
Despite how awesome the show was, I left feeling just awful. The Robbies didn’t seem upset about it — like I said, they’re professionals, I’m sure they’ve played some crazy empty honky-tonks in their days — but I fully understood last night why Trey (the owner of the VT) sometimes breaks down and rails against the world at poorly attended shows. Because these really talented musicians, they come to Charleston, they see that NO ONE GIVES A SHIT, and they leave with a bad taste in their mouths and probably tell other people to avoid this town full of apathetic assholes who just don’t care if they haven’t seen a mention of the band on Pitchfork or whatever the heck it is that gets people to head to Mt. Pleasant and take in some lifeblood — I mean live music.
–sm
(Let me preface this by avowing how much I enjoy Cheerwine, the ready availability of which is one of the best perks of living in South Carolina.)
So, not having the money (or desire, really) for cable, on the rare occasion when I watch TV, I’m stuck with the channels I can pick up with my $5 antenna — NBC, ABC (only on clear days), CBS, ETV, Fox, and MyTV. Considering the three programs I tend to watch are Nova specials, Seinfeld, and The Simpsons, this is not such an unbearable thing. However, one major downside to watching free, non-ETV television is the dearth of commercial variety. Let’s just say, if pressed (or paid!), I could sing you the entire “Hoover Country” song, including the stanza they cut out of the 30-second spots (“Shoppin’ on the run/Just havin’ fun/You never know just what you might see/Oooooh ooooh this is Hoooover Country…”).
In the last week or two, a pair of new Cheerwine commercials have aired repeatedly on Fox during the 10-11:30 p.m. time slot. They both star the “Cheer-watch News Team,” led by “anchorwoman” Stacy Sharpe’s cleavage, as they “protect your right to drink Cheerwine” through hard-hitting, soft-drinking “investigative reports.” Sure, the faux broadcasters bit is a little trite, but they’re just a framing device. Really, the Cheerwine ad creators are aiming to get your attention through the oldest, laziest gimmick possible: unadulterated stereotypes.
The relatively innocuous first spot, “Northerners Hoarding Cheerwine!” features a pair of track-suit-clad “Yankees” stuffing cases of the beverage into a car trunk. When “correspondent” Skip DeLuca asks, “Why are you taking our Cheerwine? Where in New York are you taking it?”, one of the men pulls a lollipop out of his mouth and responds, “We’s from Charlotte.” The clip ends with a shot of the car driving away, a microphone cord trailing out of the trunk. Mobster jokes, yawn. The first time I saw it, I rolled my eyes at the complete lack of creativity but otherwise shrugged the whole thing off. Then I saw the second spot, “Teens Denied Cheerwine!”
In it, Skip DeLuca heads to “a local convenience store” where the owner is refusing to sell Cheerwine to teens. He walks in and asks the owner — an Asian man — why he won’t sell Cheerwine to everybody. The man responds with, “Read sign!” as his wife emerges from behind him and frantically points at a hand-lettered “You MUST be 21 to buy wine” sign in front of the Cheerwine. Skip DeLuca tells him that “Cheerwine’s not a wine, it’s a cherry different soft drink that everybody can enjoy…” The store owner’s response? “Ahhh. THEN PAY NOW!” as he snatches the can out of Skip DeLuca’s hand.
I was aghast when I saw this. Although I question why I found “Teens Denied Cheerwine!” so much, much more offensive than the mobster ad, the combination of both of them has me teetering on the edge of boycotting Cheerwine altogether. It’s not just that these commercials are racist (and vaguely misogynist) — it’s that they’re mind-numbingly unoriginal. They’re the complete opposite of the brilliant Geico cavemen commercials, which Slate.com’s Seth Stevenson (I would LOVE to see him pick apart these Cheerwine ads, btw) wrote about earlier this year in his fantastically pithy “Ad Report Card” column.
What really eats at me is the fact that no one at the Carolina Beverage Corp. (Cheerwine’s parent company) had a problem with this commercial. ‘Perhaps it’s just a trial run for a new campaign,’ I thought hopefully as I headed to the Cheerwine website. No dice. The website, where you can watch both of these commercials, used to be filled with various promotional gimmicks and a neat section where you could print out Cheerwine recipes (I actually made a Cheerwine cake from one of them a few years ago, and it was delish). Yeah, those are gone now, replaced with a new site constructed around the “Cheer-watch News Team” theme. Just in case you haven’t had your fill of Asian jokes, you can click on a “Meet the Kims” link on the homepage (“Huang was one of Korea’s top Olympic ping pong prospects” — curious, what with Huang being a Chinese name) and listen to “a message from Mr. Kim.” Guess what it is? “Pay now!” Hm. Color me sensitive, but I’m thinking I probably won’t be paying now or later.
–sm
