NINE INCHES: The city decided bars could stay open till 4 a.m. on Sunday instead of closing at midnight, which allowed for four more hours of dancing and drinking. That meant even more time for Transfixion -- an evening of drag rock 'n' roll -- at the Metro (or as friends lovingly call it, the Sketchro). Before the show started, we chatted at the bar with a former CL intern and her friend, local musician Richard Bicknell. Seems everyone needs a little wig-action in his life -- even folksy singer/songwriters.
The band featured members of the former Glitterdome outfit backing some of the best gender-bender entertainers to forgo lip-synching for their own vocal talents.
Miss EJ towered over the crowd in white fuck-me boots chanting, "We Will Rock You," followed by horror-show Kristiva Diva in a Union Jack sack dress. Who said rock 'n' roll is dead? Atlanta legend Diamond Lil captivated the crowd with "Cabbagetown Katie," while handing out chunks of cabbage from a pail. The crowd began to froth when EJ took the stage again to perform Nine Inch Nail's "Closer to God." To get nearer to the deity, EJ's left hand sported nine-inch acrylic cylinders that shone with mini lights against a metal bodice. Trent Reznor, eat your heart out.
-- Jerry Portwood
HOW MANY INCHES?: The Sunday performance of Hedwig and the Angry Inch at Actor's Express provided a good reason to start drinking before dusk. No really, the performance area has been transformed into a country bar called Dwayne's Range complete with picnic tables and bar stools. Katy Carkuff, our server for the evening -- dressed in a short, plaid skirt with hot pink extensions in her hair -- delightfully brought us drinks throughout the performance. I pronounce her Waitron of the Week. An even bigger draw was hunky new Artistic Director Jasson Minadakis posing as the bar's namesake with a cowboy hat, wrap-around shades and a tight-fitting T.
Hedwig is fast becoming the Rocky Horror Picture Show of this century, and the audience dutifully arrived dressed for the occasion. Local puppeteer and gore-master Chris Brown sat at a table near the stage with green spiked hair and another woman was in a see-through shirt and cowboy hat.
Finally, a place to wear my buttless chaps and not look out of place.
ALL THAT JAZZ: At last weekend's 26th annual Atlanta Jazz Festival in Piedmont Park, one of the big draws was the free admission. As in free of charge. But not, it turns out, free for non-humans.
Animals weren't allowed at the music fest. A sign posted at the entrance warned: "Pets prohibited." Perhaps couples dining on grilled steak and salmon didn't want to contend with Fido and his doo-doo. Indeed, most of the jazz enthusiasts seemed more intrigued with their wine and grilled fare (despite the "No grilling" signs) than the acts on stage.
The grillers weren't the only festival-goers to flaunt the signs. Some pet owners, like the guy with two ferrets (read: chick magnets) and the one with five identical puppies (read: hot chick magnets), did dutifully perch outside the festival entrance. But others, emboldened by their pet's bulk, ventured within. The guy with a python slung around his neck drew more attention, undeservedly, than the band Metalwood, performing onstage. But who's going to tell him that his pet snake's not allowed?
-- Mara Shalhoup
WHEN CAUCASIONS ATTACK: Saturday night Garrison Keillor and crew broadcast the latest "Prairie Home Companion" radio show live from the Fox Theatre, and 6-8 p.m., there was no greater collection of sensible shoes elsewhere in America.
If you are too young or cool to know who Garrison Keillor is, let me break it down for you: GK and his Prairie posse are the Dr. Dre and Eminem of the NPR set. They do an old-style radio variety show with skits, monologues and musical guests. It's mental Courvoisier for the Land's End crew.
And yet Saturday's show was an unusually edgy one for the owlish Keillor, who must have figured that since he was in the land of FOX news and Neal Boortz, he should get as many good-natured licks in on the GOP as possible.
Of course, Keillor provided the requisite Georgia and Peachtree jokes, riffing on local points of interest like MLK, Sweet Auburn, The Varsity, Stone Mountain and the Civil War.
The guests skewed Southern, too, including charmingly rumpled author Roy Blount Jr., blues singer Francine Reed done-up all silver and sparkly, and country-bluegrass musician Sam Bush on mandolin. The crowd ate it up and the sensible-shoes were set a-tappin' (but, you know, in a dignified, Protestant fashion).
We also hit the trifecta of local celebs from WABE including hosts Pat Matthews, John Lemley and am pretty sure we caught a glimpse of honey-voiced "Second Cup" host Lois Reitzes.
In general, all the jokes were strong, all the guests were good-looking and all the performances above average.
-- Jane Catoe
"I didn't watch baseball, football or basketball for nearly a decade because it was from…
"What about the ITP fans? Are they fat asses...?" _______________________________________________________ I suppose, but Oy and…
"Some people join unions for philosophical reasons." __________________________________________ All people join unions for philosophical reasons…
" I am asking you for your source to prove union members are leftists." _________________________________________________________…
"GO BRAVES! AND KEEP RIGHT ON GOING!...right outta town...."
Finally - common ground!