When the Inmates Rule Austin's Asylum Street Spankers play music the way God intended it. he first time I heard the Asylum Street Spankers -- arguably the quietest band in town that night -- they were playing the Young Avenue Deli -- the loudest bar in town. But even in that cavernous venue, with billiard balls and clinking glasses echoing wildly, the 10-piece acoustic outfit managed to beat the noise, thanks in large measure to the efforts of their Steve Dallas look-alike emcee Mysterious John, who, through his megaphone, begged, screamed, berated, and bullied for silence the whole evening. "How rude," a friend commented after Mysterious John, decked out in Hawaiian shirt and Ray-Bans, yelled at one bar patron to be quiet. But the way I figure it: It's their show, their rules. If you didn't come prepared to listen and respect the band, why did you pay the cover? You see, the Spankers are not just an acoustic ensemble, they're hard-core acoustic. The distinction lies not only in their instrumentation -- a grab bag of acoustic guitars, mandolin, ukelele, banjo, dobro, fiddle, washboard, and drums -- but in the fact that they play without amplification of any sort. No amps, not even microphones for the vocalists. "Music the way God intended it," Mysterious John likes to say, without the presence of "demon electricity." The loose assemblage of friends and musicians who would eventually form the Asylum Street Spankers first came together in the early '90s over a wild weekend at a B&B in tiny Llano, Texas, just a couple of counties away from the band's current home base of Austin. There on the front porch of the Dabbs Hotel (over many drinks), the musicians found a shared fondness for an older, quieter, more sophisticated form of music. They soon organized and were all set to play their first gig when somebody forgot the PA. They went on without it. And continue to do so. Though they've put out a number of CDs -- the most recent being Hot Lunch, produced by Bad Livers' Bob Brozman and Daniel Thomas -- which fans can turn up as loud as they like, in concert the Spankers stubbornly stick to their very quiet guns, playing a peculiar amalgam of blues, New Orleans jazz, jug band, old-time country, Tin Pan Alley, and Gypsy swing. The effect is retro, something they often play up with their '20s-era suits. You can easily imagine yourself in a speakeasy listening to Bessie Smith, or, when clarinet player Stanley Smith tears into one of his sweet solos, the Hot Five. But the Spankers are unabashedly modern and very funny, too. Just hear the band's "Jerry the Junker," dedicated to the "greatest of American folk heroes, the junkie" or washboardist/vocalist Wammo sing about his good friend Lee Harvey Oswald. As much foot-tapping, head-swaying fun as a Spankers show can be, however, it can also be frustrating, like a Frank Capra movie in which the hero remains true to his ideals even as his world comes crumbling down around him. By staying completely acoustic, the band imposes limits on itself. The Spankers make a tremendous opening act for their fellow throwbacks, the Squirrel Nut Zippers, but as things stand now they couldn't be heard in any of the small theatres where the Zippers play. Why can't the Spankers at least throw up a couple of ambient microphones? In the final analysis, I'm probably wishing for something I don't really want. People don't realize that there was a time when Robert Johnson could rock a whole juke joint with just a guitar and his foot. Sometimes all that metal, wire, and electricity simply get in the way. When the Spankers' Pops Bayless strums his guitar and sings "Mama Don't Allow," it's not a processed electrical signal you're hearing. And when the incredible brothel-mama Christina Marrs lets rip on "Summertime," the sound is going straight from her pipes to your ears. It's a sound from another time, harnessed in the here and now like a faded, ragged old photograph. And it's all the more precious because of it. Music Notes Edited by Mark Jordan Memphis Jazz On Record Niko Lyras, a noted local record producer best known for his work with the Three 6 Mafia collective, and Irwin Sheft, the city's most vocal proponent of jazz and the producer of the World Class Jazz concert series, have teamed to form a new record label. Tentatively titled Memphis Jazz Heritage, the new label will focus on recording local artists for distribution primarily in Europe. "There is much more of a market for jazz recordings in Europe than there is here," says Sheft. "And anything with Memphis attached to it does very well over there as well." Potential artists for the label include saxophonist George Coleman and pianists Mulgrew Miller, Harold Mabern, James Williams, and Donald Brown. The first release will likely feature guitarist Calvin Newborn and pianist Charles Thomas, Sheft says. All the label's releases will be recorded live before an audience in a to-be-determined local venue. The first session is planned for July. Talent Explosion Southern Flava, a local artist management group, is holding auditions this Saturday for its Southern Explosion urban-music talent showcase to be held at the New Daisy on July 30th. Auditions will be at the New Daisy with a morning and evening session. Registration for the morning session runs from 7 to 9 a.m.; registration for the afternoon session runs from 1 to 3 p.m. Auditioning artists must bring their own accompanying CD or cassette, a bio, and a photograph. For more information, call 441-7272. For The Benefit Of Mr. Stubblefield It's hard to imagine anyone making a smooth escape lugging a 6-foot bass fiddle on his back, but apparently someone did and left poor John Stubblefield, bassist for country-rockers Lucero, without an ax. To help Stubblefield out, some friends have organized a show for this Friday at the Overton Park Shell. Joining Stubblefield and his band will be Trousseau, Megan Reilly, Reginald, and deejays Sean O.D. and Lorin. The show starts at 7 p.m. Half the proceeds will go to the Shell and the other half to the John Stubblefield Bass Relief Fund. New Stuff In The Bins The cover of Homestead Gray, the new album from Memphis' Beat Generation, features a photograph of the legendary Negro League baseball team the Grays. Though marred by some tacked-on lettering, it's a great cover photo. The CD it trumpets, however, has nothing to do with baseball or the Negro leagues or anything like that, but that's okay. Lead Beat Rick Nethery, who wrote all but one of Homestead's 11 tracks, has made an engaging album of unadulterated rock-and-roll. There are no bows to fashion -- nuevo or retro -- here, just guitars, bass, drums, and the occasional harmonica. The band -- Nethery on lead vocals and bass, drummer Paul Buchignani, and guitarist Buddy Nemenz and Richard Hage -- can crunch it fast and hard on tracks such as "All Dressed Up (No Place To Go-Go)" and the decidedly unsubtle "Train Song," and then turn around and bring it down to the soft, melodic folk of "Talkin' Tattoo Blues" or the flat-out great "Picture Of A Girl." But at heart it's all rock, original in its lack of affectation. The lyrics are occasionally goofy -- c'mon, "(No Place To Go-Go)"? -- but in general they're earnest, light, and catchy without being inconsequential. New national releases in the bins this week include: Arthur Adams Back on Track (Blind Pig) -- Leader of the house band at B.B. King's Blues Club in Los Angeles, Adams gets assistance from his boss and Memphis blues compatriot on his latest. The Chemical Brothers Surrender (Astralwerks) Natalie Cole Snowfall on the Sahara (Elektra) Debbie Davies Tales from the Austin Motel (Shanachie) The Dixie Hummingbirds Music in the Air (Platinum) -- Stevie Wonder, Paul Simon, Mavis Staples, and Bobby Womack guest on the latest from the legendary gospel group. Béla Fleck The Bluegrass Sessions (Tales from the Acoustic Planet Vol. 2) (Warner Bros.) Paul Geremia The Devil's Music (Red House) Abdullah Ibrahim African Suite (Tip Toe) Diana Krall When I Look in Your Eyes (Verve) -- Lush string-backed balladry from one of jazz's few young superstars. Lyle Lovett and His Large Band Live in Texas (MCA)