GUADALCANAL DIARY

40 Watt / April 5
by Jason Slatton

"Now what kind of assholes would we be if we didn't play "Watusi Rodeo"? You know we're gonna play it, but you have to wait." -- this, from Murray Attaway, midway through Guadalcanal Diary's first of two reunion shows. Apparently, Murray was being harangued by an overzealous fan who had planted herself at the foot of the stage, absolutely determined that she was going to hear "Watusi Rodeo" at some point that evening.

Like a lot of the rest of us, she was understandably excited about the prospect of hearing this band, who hadn't graced a stage in seven years. She obviously remembered the old days, when Guadalcanal would wander onto the stage at the old 688 Club and completely tear the room to pieces.

A lot of us were doing some remembering that night. No one in the band looked a day older than they did when they played that farewell show at Legion Field (although drummer John Poe has a few more gray hairs than he used to), and then there was that sound. Throughout their entire career (and this evening's set), Guadalcanal could veer from manic rockabilly-isms ("Watusi Rodeo," "Let the Big Wheel Roll") to vaguely unnerving atmospherics ("Little Birds," "Walking In The Shadow Of The Big Man, Pt. 1") to pop-like-only-they-play-it ("Pretty Is As Pretty Does," "Michael Rockefeller," "Always Saturday," "Why Do The Heathen Rage?") with startling dexterity.

That "sound" I mentioned previously is something undefinable; it's not a tangible, signature characteristic. When Guadalcanal slammed into their opening song "Trail Of Tears" -- Poe pounding away, Walls raking his hands across his strings while performing some hellacious scissor-kicks, Crowe wrestling her bass into submission, Attaway testifying like Hazel Moates himself -- the last seven years evaporated completely. So I don't need to convince you that they found "it." They did, and played it for all it was worth, sampling each album liberally.

What they didn't do was simply recreate "past glories." "Pretty Is..." was a little shaky, but felt right. New song "Ten Minutes" was downright edgy, frightening and perfect (and hell, maybe a little apocalyptic. "Litany" was (and I know Murray will wince here) majestic, and they finally hit "Watusi Rodeo," beginning the song like some old George Jones chestnut, until Walls stopped the band, quoting Elvis Presley from years ago -- "Wait a minute boys, that don't move me. Let's get real, real gone for a change..." -- and then he counted into a ferocious version of "Watusi" that sounded like the four people on stage knew they'd never get the chance again.