Saturday, July 16, 2011

Skurfs Way Up, Pounding the Mountains

OK, so the 3D gizmo didn't perform as promised, but the Skurfs certainly did. It was a raucous party as the group released their CD, First Run, at the Top Hat on Friday, July 1, 2011.

Gavin McCourt says Skurf is a combination of ski and surf, and the sound is Montana surf music.

Sam Ore

Aaron Johnson

Dan Venturella, Aaron, Gavin and Sam

In the Independent, Jed Nussbaum said this wasn't the Beach Boys' Surfin' USA. No kidding! This sound is the Ventures, on crack, mating with the Beach Boys a'la Deliverance. The roots are there in the 60s surf music, but this music is here and now, without a whiff of anything old. It's also brilliant. 

If you see Skurfs on a marquee or in the ads, get out for some live and local music. 

Yes, I am returning to the "live and local" mantra, because it is important. Zootown is a hotbed of artistic creativity, and music is a huge part of the scene. Since government wants to cut the arts (because studying art teaches us how to think rather than what to think), we must assist artistic impulses where ever and whenever we can. 

Most local bands play for love of music, as they struggle to make ends meet. When they have honed their skills and produced the awesome sound they were after, Portland, Seattle, Austin, and even the city of Angels appear to be bigger, greener pastures. I have wanted to rant or weep when terrific local bands left town. Anybody been in touch with Thomas Pendarvis lately? What happened to the iNHUMANS?  Closer to the Skurfs, do you remember Arrows to the Sun?

Citizens who can afford it, please, pay the lowly cover charges for live and local, buy locally recorded CDs and assist in keeping some exceptional music in Missoula.

I, on the other hand, cannot afford cover charges. If I paid cover charges, my archive of Missoula music and musicians would only contain hundreds of images, instead of the thousands currently there. Just saying, if you want your image or venue to appear here in the kitchen, or on the stove, let me in. Do not ask me to deal in filthy lucre, since I have none. Disclaimer: I am slow, not from age; I've always been a bit that way. I cannot accept all invitations, can't be everywhere at once, and can't carry a tune in a bucket. Please, don't ask for a song and dance. 

There was a thunder shower just know, and I must go for a walk. I'll see you all along the way, down the road, and hopefully near some art, because I love the stuff and the people who make it.

Still to come:


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