One is the Poppiest Number

So tonight I got to hear what a 21st century one-man band sounds like. Like Aqualung or Owl City (even Prince for a while there) Branch Clarke plays everything, sings his own backup and harmonies and then sings and plays live to recorded tracks of himself singing and playing. Yea, it was like a hall of mirrors.

He calls his one-man band Ghostdog and Cinnamon. The reason, I was told by a friend of his, is that he'd decided some time ago that if he ever got a dog, he would name it Ghostdog. If he ever went the feline route, it would be called Cinnamon. Years later, he's still petless so his band name was taken from the absent pets. Or so I was told.

Balliceaux had a really decent crowd for a Monday night show and a lot of people were there because they knew Branch. The two guys next to me grew up with him, hadn't seen him in years and just randomly happened to be at Balliceaux tonight for his show. They were unaware of his musical talent.

Branch came out, sat down at the keyboard with his back to the audience and proceeded to launch into lush pop gem after poppy lush gem, only occasionally turning around to retrieve his guitar on the floor behind him. If you closed your eyes, it was hard to believe that there was only one guy on stage. If you opened your eyes, you saw a guy's back as he played keyboard or guitar and sang his heart out.

Toward the end, he announced that the next song would be his last. "And I don't have any CDs, so you're fucked." Afterwards, when the crowd called for an encore, he said plaintively, "I don't have any more songs." The girl beside me observed that he could play the entire set again as far as she was concerned. Several other people in the crowd yelled the same suggestion moments later.

I'd begun the evening helping that girl finish the bartender's NYT crossword puzzle. Between the three of us (with only an occasional assist from the other bartender) we'd knocked out that puzzle in no time flat, three brains being smarter than one. That was the extent of the heavy lifting for the evening.

After the show, I chatted with a sculptor who inititiated the conversation by sharing his thoughts on tequila (he's in favor of it) and beer (refreshing after a long day of sculpting). He's hoping to be mayor someday and shared a few of his intentions, including charging tolls from every direction to come into the city. He already has his campaign slogan: "Change for effect." Can't you just see that on a button?

But the best part of our discussion was about how the city needs to nurture the artists who come out of VCU by providing opportunities for contemporary sculptors (obviously his area of concern) to place their work in public spaces, even if only on a temporary or rotating basis.

Yes, we've got a good amount of public sculpture, but it's all by dead guys and 60+ year olds. Shouldn't the city that has the number one sculpture school in the country be a public showcase for emerging and up and coming sculptors?

Shouldn't a one-man band have a tambourine?