Dead Confederate Up Close and Personal in Hell
Masquerade, Atlanta, GA Oct 23, 2009
Dead Confederate in Hell
at Atlanta's Masquerade Photo by Ellen Eldridge
Dead Confederate took the stage to their warmed drum set fronted by a 10-legged spider in condoms (the image from the EP). The two opening
acts, Winston Audio and Gift Horse, used for the set for their opening performances. In fact, the bass player for Winston Audio broke a string just
before the last song and Brantley Senn of Dead Confederate graciously loaned his Gibson bass for the closing number. That kind of generosity and family
humility is what lured me into grunge bands as a teenager.
Intensity. The one word flashing through my mind as the strobe effects of the stage lighting announced a visual rhythm to the opening of Dead
Confederate. Backlit and building, the music started the show with an intense feeling of what would have been called “grunge” in the mid-90s.
The sinewy body of Hardy Morris stretched emotion across his Fender Telecaster and released it from his tensed neck with larynx high into the
microphone. The squealing effect produced can't be good for his voice, but so many things involved with creating music and unleashing catharsis aren't quite good for us. The product of all this straining is the result of forces which simply should not be held by one band person let alone one man.
Hardy Morris,
Walker Howle
Morris stood stage center with his hair curtained around his eyes like he didn't want to see who showed to welcome an Athens band to Atlanta after
traveling across the ocean and back again. Walker Howle stood stage left holding a guitar with paint half-stripped off, gently caressing it all night
with his slide. That slide effect added to many of Dead Confederate's songs is what I attribute to the media titles of “Southern Rock meets Seattle
Grunge”.
If I were to comment on the nature of “grunge”, it would involve some tongue-in-cheek reference to looking the part of living on a tour bus and playing
instruments with more chips in them than the songwriters had on their shoulders when writing classic lines like, “stupid human, shit for brains”.
The scene from the leaky Hell stage at the Masquerade encouraged more than the dream of living on the road; it inspired a new generation of grunge.
Maybe this time Dead Confederate will lead the way without the heroin holes in arms to dissolve the music.
Walker Howle, the guitar player, wore only his socks on stage leaving his pink sneakers behind him. The toe sticking through announced to the world
that something stronger than money propels his desire to keep touring. That alone is inspirational, but watching the look on his face as he slide
across the notes sealed the idea that Dead Confederate is more than just a passing phase.
Being so close to the stage and packed in a venue gives the audience a very personal feeling and an opportunity to share with the band. Eyes catch one
another and even the band on stage can see who sings along and who clings to the sidelines.
The set lasted about 45 minutes with highlights such as “The Rat” and “Start Me Laughing” and closed ambient and apt with “Tortured Artist Saint”.
I won't lie and say I didn't hope to hear “It Was A Rose and “Flesh-Colored Canvas”, but the show was a great success and sounded amazing from start
to finish.
| 
