hether we succumb to flesh-eating zombies, a direct hit by an asteroid or apocalyptic storms and earthquakes, you’ll want to find a memorable way to spend Friday, Dec. 21, your last night on earth. Assuming you don’t already have a bunker ready, there may be no better place than Rhythm & Brews at 10 p.m. on that fateful day, and no better band than Strung Like A Horse to celebrate the end of the world.
What makes this band perfect for the occasion is the climate of delirium they create. Strung Like A Horse hits the stage like a hurricane, energy popping from every player. Each performance is an exuberant celebration of the power of music.
Lead singer Clay Maselle has the energy and charisma of a nonpareil ringmaster. His feet firmly planted, Maselle and his bandmates whip up barely controlled chaos both on and off stage. Maselle’s circus barker-style ebullience is matched by B.J. Hightower’s manic bouncing jig with his standup bass, his hair flailing around his face and over his shoulders as the band leans into the music.
While Maselle is cajoling the audience to let go, B.J.’s bouncing, Mark the Fiddler and banjo man Ben Crawford are throwing out blizzards of notes, and Sloth keeps it all rolling with wildly off-kilter kicks on his singular drum kit (largely composed of junkyard detritus).