david lynch goes to church
Music: The Jayhawks: Tomorrow the Green Grass (1995)
Through a bourbon-sot fog I remember the first time I saw Quintron and Miss Pussycat. About six or seven years ago I was touring the French Quarter with Jenn the Master Piercer (again) and she was berating me for not having hung out at the Shim Sham Club. Amazingly, we somehow managed to walk from Decatur street near the Marigny where all the bartenders gave her---and therefore me---free drinks to the Shim Sham (now One Eyed Jacks). The Shim Sham originally appears as a small, hole-in-the-wall bar in the middle of the Quarter; it had a rock-a-billy aesthetic with devil imagery all over the place, with a few naked women on velvet thrown in for added taste. I remember thinking something like, "what? Came all this way for a small bar with four tables, devils, and pin-ups! Cripes!"
But I was fooled. The "front bar" is just a tiny waiting room, what was apparently the lobby of a former opera house. Jenn pointed to some double-doors with two large, porthole windows at the top. She said it was a live music and burlesque venue now. "Wait! Is that Quintron?" she said with excitement. A bouncer near the portholes confirmed it was Quintron, and invited us to go in because "the show's almost over" (gosh, I miss the free-drink/free-show attitude of New Orleans! They're so anal here in Austin about their cover charges). So we walked in and it was like a scene right out of the Wizard of Oz, you know, the one when Dorothy walks out of the house in Munchkin Land and discovers Technicolor and little people with flowers on their heads for the first time?
Except it wasn't The Wizard of Oz. Instead, it was more like walking into Lynch's opening sequence in Mulholland Drive. The entire room was painted in red and blue light. On the stage was a very sweaty man with shaggy hair, half-naked, banging himself into a frenzy on a series of organs set into an old car-grill. A contraption made out of a coffee can and a light bulb created a rhythmic drone (apparently Mr. Quintron sells these things as "the drum buddy"). A woman dressed in a 50s-style pink dress with a pomm in her hair, large breasts, and with matching maracas shook away like she was a possessed. Behind them was what appeared to be a weird, Cronenberg-esduqe television set (I learned later it was an enclosure for a puppet show).
And then, there was the music. It was soulful and dominated by organs, but also a bit droney. It reminded me of mid-period Jim Thirlwell (Foetus) , except with much more maracas percussion and much less grunting. Every now and then, Miss Pussycat would scream something, like with the B-52s. In fact, Quintron and Miss Kitten probably invite comparisons to the B-52s the most for sonorous and aesthetic reasons, but Mr. Quintron's voice is much too soulful. It's like church music on acid. It's like David Lynch goes to church.
Upon first encountering Quintron and Miss Kitten, I was totally confused. Just at the point I thought I was "getting it," hundreds and hundreds of multi-colored balloons dropped from the very, very high ceiling on the audience. People went nuts and starting popping them left and right. Quintron started audience surfing and Miss Kitten was screaming something about being a "swamp boogie bad ass." It was utter pandemonium in this opera house, and I thought perhaps Jenn had dosed my drink with acid, cause I just wasn't sure what I'm seeing was real.
Since that day, I've seen the duo (who are also husband and wife) multiple times. I drove to Houston once to see them. But something named Katrina, and the Rita, hit New Orleans and this most amazing musical institution had to call it quits for a while. Then, my friend Macy (whom I had hooked on Quintron) said she was driving to Austin to see the band. I immediately got excited.
Last night I saw Quintron and Miss Pussycat play, and it was truly an evangelical revival. I swear half the audience consisted of displaced and now Austin-homed New Orleanians. I spread the gospel, telling friends that they should go to the show. I pleaded with a group celebrating Matt's birthday party they should attend the show. I managed to convince two beautiful and obviously brilliant friends they should attend. They are now die-hard converts to the Quintron and Miss Pussycat experience.
Here is a gallery of last night's saving experience. Here's a video, but it simply cannot capture the magical spirit of a live show:
Won't you convert to Quintronianism?