Butch Walker and The Black Widows, F*ckit
February 28, 2011
Shhhhh Los Angeles
A week or so ago Butch Walker (@butchwalker) tweeted this:
And I responded with something like this: “I wish @ButchWalker would do another residency. . .”
Amazing musician? Great songwriter? Brilliant producer? That’s all merely a front – Butch Walker is a mother f*cking genie!
Tonight marked the second of four Monday night shows by Butch Walker & The Black Widows. The songs are so new, Walker has the lyrics readily available on an iPad. At the same time, Walker and The Black Widows know the set so well, the setlist is merely a placemat for the whiskey.
“Is this too loud out there?” Walker asked, leaning into the crowded room. “I feel like it is, but f*ck it. . .”
The Black Widows played for about an hour, trying their new songs out on friends and family, before they head into the studio to record an album. The music is fun. There’s a song that takes you on a Bryan Adams flashback, and you somehow come out feeling okay (that’s genius). There’s a song about being sucker-punched and the corresponding story about how Walker secured this Monday night venue (surely, there could have been a less-painful way). The songs are more “upbeat” than some of Walker’s previous work, although there are some thematic similarities. If you’re a Butch Walker fan, this all makes sense. If you’re not familiar with Walker. . . chances are nothing I’ve said makes sense anyway. Wiki him and you’ll find you do know Butch Walker.
The venue? The drinks were strong and affordable. In fact, they served me the strongest drink short of those I’ve made myself. Cover charge? There isn’t one. I can’t tell you where it is, but I’ll give you the following hint: it’s one of few places in LA where the AT&T iPhone seems to get reception.
Thank you for making my wish come true, Butch. If we don’t count “no line in the women’s room” and “free parking”, I get two more, right?
The Black Widows: