In the Jungle

The Mobay was stellar. The monsters were laughable. The music was oddly-lit.

Our ambitions were hardly lofty tonight - bad Japanese sci-fi was more than enough.

Since it was showing at the VMFA, Amuse got the nod for dinner.

Sitting at the end of the bar, I sipped VMFA Meritage as I watched drinks with a strong visual element being concocted.

The Kaleidoscope, with its multiple jello "jewels," went out in droves and the woman next to me got the Ice Cube, hers with a big round blue ice cube in the enclosed glass.

Our amuse bouche was a housemade cracker with Mobay (a Wisconsin made version of Morbier done with sheep and goats' milk) and a half grape on top.

It was one exquisite bite.

Tuscan kale and potato stew with housemade lamb sausage followed, although the broth was rather thin to be called a stew.

The flavors, though, were spot on.

Mussels with Surry sausage rounded out the meal as the hordes began to arrive and fill up the restaurant.

After sopping up the broth with as much bread as they'd give us, we beat feet for the auditorium.

Back section, front row, we got center seats for the show.

Goldrush was performing an original score for "Destroy All Monsters," a bad 1968 Japanese movie.

Host Trent Nicholas greeted the crowd, saying, "Welcome to our lecture on ancient Egyptian sarcophagi."

He did his best Ed Sullivan imitation, noting of Goldrush, "They're a great bunch of kids."

Bandleader Prabir broke it down even further. "Alright, thanks for coming. Let's do this!"

Over visuals of Monster Island (Godzilla, Mothra, Rodan) and the undersea farm, the band played their original score which, not surprisingly, included many of their usual songs.

Let's just say "Roll One" reared its familiar head.

There was a feminine alien race (the leader wore gold pumps and white gloves while looking through binoculars on the beach) controlling the scientific minds of the men.

So easily led.

And then there was Prabir singing while peering out from under his bangs while Matt, Treesa and Greg tore it up on bass, violin and drums respectively.

There was also the pleasure of Japanese movie subtitles.

"If they fail, we'll be vaporized, too."
"Let's just relax and have some coffee."

Clearly authenticity was not a goal in 1968.

Half the time the monsters looked like they were dancing not terrorizing and the models of buildings used in the devastation scenes looked like Monopoly houses.

Picky, picky.

Luckily, the seamless soundtrack was entertainment enough...at least for those of us who like a "really big shew."

End of corny humor.

With the movie over by 8:15, I had plenty of time to get back to J-Ward and the Speakeasy.

It was my first time there and I was encouraged by the doors and hallways required to enter it.

Once in, though, it was a bit underwhelming.

High ceilings, overpriced bevvies and the feel of a room for rent.

Club music was pumping and little green pinpoints of light flashed, but it was not a club crowd.

It was the CD release show for Zac Hryciak and the Junglebeat and I walked in to find a favorite friend at the bar.

We shared our disappointment at expecting the feel of a speakeasy and walking into what felt like a banquet hall, but we also shared our ideas on how it could be turned into something far more interesting as venues go.

Sadly, management was not asking us to do any consulting on taking the business in a new direction.

Pity.

Jonathan Vassar was opening and his beautiful and sad songs had to fight to be heard over the mindless chatter of the growing crowd.

If nothing else, they could have shut up given the auspicious occasion.

"This is the last show I'm going to play till I'm a father," Jonathan noted.

Considering that's not happening until February, I did everything I could to hear what he was offering tonight.

As usual, well-written songs full of sadness and even a new Speckled Bird song (the bird is the one on the nest until February).

The minute his Americana stopped, the music came back on at 120 beats per minute.

My friend and I just looked at each other and started laughing at the incongruity.

Meanwhile, all kinds of musician friends I hadn't seen lately stopped by my stool to say hello.

The good news is some of my favorite musicians are practicing a new lineup, a fact which had me smiling almost as much as they were when talking about it.

Finally Zac and the Junglebeat took the stage to celebrate their new record release with angelic voices, schooled musicianship and non-traditional song structures.

Oh, yes, and a lamp at the back of the stage.

Zac loves cracking wise and it wasn't long before he said, "I hope y'all took LSD or Ecstasy before this or the $1000 deposit for the lights was a waste."

He was referring to the green lights and the flashing circles of lights that made it feel like a bad middle school dance.

Saying, "If you're able-bodied or even just like us, then come closer to the front," he pulled the crowd in and they did as they were told.

The band moved effortlessly through old, new and brand new material, including a song Zac described as, "This song is about Mila Kunis but it's also about my lack of masculinity."

A song so new that humans other than the band hadn't heard it was "Colossus" with its three-part harmonies.

Another such stellar first-timer was "Babbayagga," which came from a bad dream about chicken legs and for a while meandered in a Latin direction.

Older songs like "Shoot Me to Sleep" got big responses from what was clearly a crowd of friends and fans.

"This song is about being at a party and you're stoned and everyone else is drunk," Zac said by way of introduction. "Sorry, Mom and Dad."

His parents smiled back  proudly.

At the end of "In the Jungle," violinist Jessica chastised the bandleader, saying, "Zac made it too fast."

He kept to tempo for the next one, saying, "This song is called 'Fond of Blonds.' I'm open to anything but I'm just saying I'm fond of blonds."

"Fresh Beast" galloped along and all of a sudden the band was through and Zac was exhorting everyone to buy CDs.

He thanked the crowd, he thanked Jonathan, noting how handsome he looked, and he thanked the Speakeasy.

It was a great show by a beautifully musical band who doesn't play out much in a new-to-me venue right in my charming neighborhood.

And, yes,  a speakeasy in Jackson Ward has the potential to be a great idea.

For that matter, I've got a few suggestions on how to realize that potential.

You know, in case anyone's interested.