The Flyer's music writers tell you where you can go.

by Jim Hanas & Mark Jordan

Suffice it to say that the retroids will be out in force next Wednesday at Automatic Slim's, and with good reason, as Link Wray puts on a pair of shows. Usually credited with introducing the fuzz-tone guitar sound by judiciously jabbing a pencil (or a pin, accounts vary) through his amp (admittedly, years after "Rocket 88" was shot through an even more damaged amp at Sun), it's safe to call Wray a living legend without risk of hyperbole. He only had a couple of hits (1958's "Rumble," followed by "Raw-Hide" the next year), but his influence goes well beyond that, ranging from surf to punk to grunge. In the early-Eighties, Wray moved to Denmark, and only now is he embarking on his first U.S. tour in more than a decade on the heels of a new album -- Shadowman -- and his inclusion on several movie soundtracks, including those for Pulp Fiction and Independence Day.

There's also reason to believe he'll be glad to be here as well, since, as he recently told a reporter, "it all started in Memphis, Tennessee." -- Jim Hanas

For whatever reasons, Robert "Wolfman" Belfour kind of gets lost in the shuffle among local blues musicians. This may be in part due to his own staunchly independent stance; though he plays on Beale Street often, he is not likely to pander to a crowd with covers of "Mustang Sally." And then there is the fact that he plays "deep" blues, a darker, more intense, deceptively complex form that doesn't usually sit well with happy, let's-get-drunk audiences. Belfour, in short, is the real deal, and hopefully somebody will pick up on that soon.

Which brings us to the fact that we haven't noticed his name on any local marquees lately. Word is that he's been touring in Europe and the States, playing clubs and the always-strong festival circuit. But this Saturday (and Saturday, November 22nd, as well) Belfour will be back in one of my favorite Midtown drinking haunts, Murphy's. So, if you're looking for me this weekend, you're likely to find me there clutching a cold beer and letting Belfour's hypnotic guitar sweep me away. -- Mark Jordan


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