The subjects of this article refer to themselves as Mr. Lewis & The Funeral 5 and they had good company. The Venue was 710 just the type of backdrop for this kind of thing. I ordered a drink I noticed a cute gal dressed the right kind of easy in that classic style. This is how a good night usually starts off ya know? It is important that some element in the scene sets the mood. You just have to have the eyes for it.

 

I was there pretty early with a friend of mine drinking the fermented fuel known as Fireman's #4. Now if I had my way I'd a chose a Belgian beer to cut down to the chase. Nevertheless after a few beers my eyes started to glaze a bit and I could already feel the drunken pirate swagger taking hold.    I looked up as the right kind of easy was taking stage. The light cast on her while she was doing her sound check. The first song took me by surprise. Her voice and the guitar illustrated that unbridled enthusiasm reminiscent of forties and fifties music. However the lyrics took on a sardonic but cheeky style of humor that reminded me of a David Lynch contrast. I remember at some point during her set she stopped and said "It is weird to be playing these songs in a rock and roll club". However to me I couldn't think of a better way to start the show. In fact I'm glad I had nothing to do with it other than serving as a spectator.

 

During the break I went for a nature walk just to come up for a breath for a bit. So I went upstairs seven ten has a pretty cool lounge with a balcony so you can overlook the stage. It really has a nice post modern dirty saloon feel to it. The next band to take stage was Peculiar which the former sweetheart I spoke of also played in. Honestly during this time I was very focused on drinking so I don't even remember what they played. I was upstairs with a few of my friends knocking drinks back and shooting the shit something fierce. At some point we made our way back down stairs where I do recall hearing The Pretzel Men. It looked as if they converted a good deal of kitchen utensils to furnish their percussion section. A dominant pulsing beat with a hint of melody facilitated by what one my friends told me was a bass clarinet. The singer had a real theatrical sense to his stage demeanor armed with a double barrel gutter voice like Tom Waits. Toward the end of the set I retired back upstairs to the balcony. The Pretzel Men took on the background of another great shit talking fest between friends. There was a break either during the show or just before the infamous five took stage. I talked to the singer about random drunken babble and about purchasing a CD.

 

Not to long into the show there was an awkward occurrence during the show where a woman who I thought earlier was just really drunk turned out to be a cripple. I discovered this as she was walking back from the bar she fell. I was shocked when she first fell because I thought she would get up and try to play it off. As you can imagine the cringing feeling I got from making the assumption I had previously. Anyhow my friends and I helped her up still kind of dazed from the whole thing we decided to make sure she was ok. I believe Mr. Lewis and the Funeral Five were in the middle of My Girl Suicide a great song. By this time of the night I was thinking more in colors and images then I was in words. The music always seems like it would be right at home at an old western New Orleans style cabaret. They ended the set with a fast charged roaring dark riff that I couldn't help but pound my fist to. I hassled the singer right after for a CD which a woman who identified herself as the agent of White Ghost Shivers sold me. I waited outside for my little brother who couldn't get in earlier. I spotted the classic gal from before she was locked in with a girlfriend of hers leaning up against the wall. For some reason I thought it was an opportune time to tell her what I thought about her music. However it came out sort of like if you were to read a page out of a mad lib book without filling in any of the blanks. She let me off the hook with an "okay drunkie!" look and I bid farewell. I turned away crossed the street and met up with my brother. He told me about the bum gauntlet he had to run coming back from a friend's dorm. I assured him not to worry as he will soon learn to tune it out with the rest of the city noise. So it is that the review ends here a night that was the perfect soundtrack to the absurdity that it is the normality of everyday life.