NQC 11: Friday night
You’re on your own tonight folks. Except for Chris Allman and a few bars from Wes Hampton, there wasn’t anything much for me to write home or blog about. If the morning brings new mercies or insights, I shall declare them then.*
*In the light of a new day, the only amplification I might add is that there wasn’t much worth blogging about from my perspective. Others, obviously, do and should disagree. Sure, I could have talked about how Ivan Parker seemed to be suffering from and sounded like an affliction; that the Hoppers seemed unable or unwilling to make any distinction between classic songs in their past and boring old tunes that were retired for a reason; that Legacy Five seems to be earnestly trying but nevertheless still searching for the right material to generate a pulse on their set and sound; that I can’t recall the last time anyone got the kind of response Kim Collingsworth elicited for her assaultive rendition of the Hallelujah chorus on the piano; that Collingsworth’s giant arrangements and keyboard showmanship make Jeff Stice look like a regional showcase winner; that sometimes on stage there’s a mean streak to Gerald Wolfe’s emcee work that reminds me of a slicker version of Jim Hamill; that the Isaacs seem to be losing their mojo; that, if one were to judge by last night alone, the talk of Tim Riley’s legendary abilities might seem as much the work of the self-deluded who refuse to admit that group’s moment has long since passed as anything else; that the Kingdom Heir’s badly punned tune, “No Bones About It,” seemed positively in good taste compared to the vulgarity, crudeness, and adolescent nature of the humor on stage throughout the evening (there were bad butt jokes; unfunny bathroom jokes; and of course Gordon Mote blind jokes, which typically seem to stay just this side of inappropriate but veered across that line for me when, at the end of his set, Gaither had his arm around Mote and said “let’s go from lesser vision to Greater Vision”); that the Perrys bring a well-rounded set even when they have just an ok night; that Gaither occupies his own realm of power and glory in the hearts and minds of the southern gospel world; that dominionist militarism alternates with poverty profiteering as the two emotional poles of the non-musical portions of the official NQC show; that Peg kicked off her shoes.
But when all this fades from view and passes from memory, what I will have taken away from last night that mattered to me was the unadorned honesty and soft power of Chris Allman (with Stan Whitmire) covering “I Know a Man,” and Wes Hampton revivifying “He is Here.”
Until tonight, that is all.Email this Post