The man, the band
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Paul Saitowitz
Who needs a full band to rock these days? The White Stripes, the
Ravonettes, Mr. Airplaneman and the Black Keys have helped make bass
players a thing of the past, and Lightning Bolt has rendered the
guitarist obsolete.
All you really need is a motorcycle helmet, a monkey paw, two
working legs and plenty of attitude. At least that’s all the
ubiquitous Bob Log III needs. The Tucson-based one-man blues band has
traveled the world over several times, and this Thursday he’ll make a
stop at Detroit Bar in Costa Mesa.
According to legend, when Log was a child he lost his left hand in
a boating accident. It was soon replaced with a monkey paw, and a new
guitar style was born.
“It’s my own personal style, see,” Log said. “The paw moves much
quicker than a normal hand, so my real hand has to flop around a lot
to compensate.”
Whether the alleged paw exists, the sounds the mysterious Log
wrangles out of his guitar hit like a hypnotizing hurricane coming
straight out of the north Mississippi hill country, mixed with the
groove-driven garage blues coming out of Detroit these days. Some of
the riffs -- played on a severely down-tuned ax -- are so jangly and
awkward that they inspire hints of baroque music. The up-tempo beats
-- not just kick-snare, kick-snare -- he puts behind those guitar
lines are a lot more busy than you would expect from just one guy.
And then there’s the motorcycle helmet. Log never reveals his
identity, instead choosing to wear a helmet with a microphone in it,
which makes his already rough vocals sound like they’re being sung
through a megaphone. When asked about the unruly headpiece, Log
replies “What helmet?”
That’s what makes this man, whoever he is, the real deal. This
Evel Knievel-looking troubadour encompasses the mystery and
rabble-rousery that makes blues-based rock ‘n’ roll dangerous. With
two of his more tame song titles being “Drunk Stripper” and “Six
String Kicker,” Log sings about all the things he should be singing
about: whiskey, women and fighting.
He has garnered quite a following, including spooky musical
vagabond Tom Waits, who said of Log: “He wears a motorcycle helmet
and he has a microphone inside of it and he puts the glass over the
front so you can’t see his face, and plays slide guitar. It’s just
the loudest strangest stuff you’ve ever heard.”
With three albums -- recorded on primitive four-track and
eight-track equipment -- on Oxford, Mississippi’s venerable Fat
Possum Records (R.L. Burnside, T-Model Ford, Paul “Wine” Jones) Log
is part of a dying breed. A road-weary bluesman, who is by no means a
guitar virtuoso -- like Robert Cray and Robben Ford -- but rather a
nasty, dirty, soul-fueled crooner who feels every note. According to
Log, blues is “bent, bending hard, blues is a feeling.”
Catch him on Thursday to see what the feeling is all about.
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