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The
Vigilantes of Love are an internationally famous cult
band based out of Athens, GA and fronted by a prolific
and down-to-earth songwriter named Bill Mallonee (pronounced
MAL-uh-nee). They first came to national recognition
nearly a decade ago in 1992 when they played The
Cornerstone Festival to rave reviews. Their third
album, Killing Floor (1992), which so
happened to be co-produced by two big names, Peter
Buck of R.E.M. and the pioneering (and now deceased)
singer/songwriter Mark Heard, subsequently gained
critical and audience praise which, propelled forward
by the promotional engineering of The Call's manager
Dan Russell, got them signed to Capricorn Records.
From there they ascended to the Warner Resound label
before getting dumped by them and then subsequently
getting passed from label to label, taking their devoted
following with them wherever they went. They've released
twelve albums in ten years, and although Bill's songwriting
style has remained essentially the same over the years,
the music style has shifted amongst acoustic folk,
organic folk-rock, electric alt-pop and alternative
country.
The Vigilantes keep a busy touring schedule and visit
Dallas relatively often (at least once or twice a
year). This time around they are touring for their
twelfth and latest CD Summmershine;
unfortunately this show was not well promoted so the
crowd of seventy-five paid that they usually bring
was only twenty- five. But the missing fifty's loss
was, as you can imagine, the other twenty-five's gain.
The first band to perform were locals Not Called Common
(formerly known as The Red Letters until some idiot
who "already had the name" threatened to
sue them). Not Called Common are fronted by Ezra Boggs,
whose former bands included the celebrated local acts
Trio of One and Drive By Orchestra. This hard- working
art-school pop quintet have to be one of the best-kept
secrets in town right now, as their music will permeate
a room with an intoxicating atmosphere of gently rustling,
romantically ethereal emotion, the only problem being
that the rooms they've played in have generally been
empty up to this point. Unfortunately the beginning
of their set was no exception as Ezra's wife and the
author were the only ones there at first.
We've reviewed many a band far less talented than
Not Called Common who think they are the new Aerosmith
or Van Halen and have the rock star attitudes to go
with it. Not Called Common are an amazingly professional
outfit, so obviously so that they could probably get
away with being arrogant and haughty in this way.
But instead they are so unpretentious and down-to-earth
it threatens to betray the romantic mystique of their
music. Throughout the set Ezra was announcing the
arrival of friends of the band as they walked in and
was dedicating songs to whoever in the audience raised
their hand; occasionally Ezra and his guitarist and
bassist would sing in purposely annoying voices to
throw the audience. Speaking of annoying voices, Ezra's
nasally and somewhat impish voice is one of those
that can be annoying if one is not used to it, but
like the voice of Tom Waits or (more obviously) Dylan,
adds a definite fingerprint to the sound.
Not Called Common's trademark art-school ballads actually
bookended a series of
stimulating jazzy/funky songs that prompted the author
to jokingly warn Ezra's wife to keep Ezra away from
the P-Funk records from now on. Actually, these songs
worked very well, genuinely reinventing the funk and
fusion sounds of the 1970's without sounding nostalgic
or white-boy-trying-to-be-black.
The most sobering part of the evening was when Ezra
received a yellow slip of paper from someone in the
audience, and after reading it to himself, announced
that George Harrison, the ex-Beatle, had just passed
away. Ezra's statement was, "I pray he knew what
he meant when he said 'My Sweet Lord'. Please pray
for the families and all the fan who were inspired
by the Beatles' music when they sneaked to the record
player late at night and listened to Mom and Dad's
copy of The White Album." When
it rains, it pours.
The second act was relatively short at only six songs.
What we saw was the infant stages of what will soon
be a celebrated band, but is currently a one-man band
accompanying himself on guitar, foot percussion and
occasional harmonica. The name of the man is Greg
Vanderpool, and the name of the band is Milton Mapes.
The Austin-based band has one other member so far,
who was not able to make the evening's performance,
hence the solo performance. The songs were those of
a sad, lonely cowboy driving a lone truck on a barren
West Texas two-lane highway late at night. So far
the band (or band to be?) have one self-released,
seven-song EP that features the mastering assistance
of Buddy Miller—a good guy to have on your side,
especially as a new artist. We are confident that
we'll be hearing far more from this act in the coming
years.
When Bill Mallonee and his band hit the stage, Bill
transforms from a kind, people-loving gentleman that
looks like a college kid that grew up and had a couple
of kids into a human lawnmower with a guitar. His
muscular rock-star body tenses every muscle, his movements
become jagged and angular, almost unhuman and his
pose is as if he's telling off the microphone, head
cocked to the side, eyes shut. The rather lengthy
concert consisted of one-half songs from the new album
and one-half older songs, going all the way back to
Killing Floor. The new album is a return
to electric alt-pop after a lengthy foray into alternative
country that got so country we thought we were going
to see Bill and the gang on the Grand Ole Opry before
too long. But the Vigilantes have returned to electric
rock, and a triumphant return it is. This is some
of the most powerful music we've heard from clean
guitars in a long time, delivering a solid crack to
the skull. The older songs were much more intense
live than in the studio and the new songs bled with
bursting red emotion just like the flower on the cover
of the new album.
 The
current line-up of backup Vigilantes, consisting of
guitarist/backing vocalist Andrew Grow, bassist Jake
Bradley, drummer Kevin Heuer, are a trio of power
and prowess that not only fill up the sound behind
Bill but also interact with him well as a full band.
Given the personality Drew Grow has on his own they
could probably break off and start their own band
if they wanted to, although considering that the current
chemistry works so well that's probably not advisable.
Bill and Drew each had four or five different guitars
at their disposal—acoustics, Rickenbackers, hollow-bodies—and
were constantly changing them out throughout the lengthy
set, Bill doing it in his quick angular motions and
Drew in a more laid-back, shy-guy kind of way. This
rotation of guitar sounds added a subtle variety of
sounds to the show that, mixed with the intensity
of the sound, kept even the most sleepy-eyed members
of the audience hooked into the performance.
As mentioned, the Vigilantes come into town relatively
often, so next time they come be sure you are not
one of the poor souls that missed out on the Vigilantes'
incredible performance. By the way, the photos of
the Vigilantes in this article are courtesy of a photographer
named Debbie Foster, who was also at the show.
If
you would like to see more pictures from this show
and her summations of the performance, go to this
link.
Also
you can visit the Vigilantes at their
website, http://www.billandvol.com
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David Gasten,
dallasmusic.com
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