BOB LOG III
Bob Log is a one man, Bluegrass rhythm-picking, drum-beating, helmet-wearing, jumpsuiting supreme being. He is a wonder to behold as he enters the back of the venue with a rubber dinghy on his back, playing his guitar with a microphone attached to his helmet like some bastard child of Daft Punk and Les Claypool. Born in Chicago but raised in Arizona, Bob’s love of AC/DC, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins and Check Berry led him to that moment where he decided to don the helmet and blow the minds of those lucky enough to witness the solo rifforama. Bob’s debut album School gave him the chance to travel the world with his brand of blues fueled by plenty of what he calls ‘Boob Scotch’, in which he drinks a scotch stirred with the boob of an audience member. Although there are none stirred tonight, a couple of girls from the crowd matching Bob in their freakiness sit upon his knees as he plays one of his songs. These songs are loose to say the least. One of his best, entitled Bump Pow! Bump Bump Bump Pow! Bump Pow! Bump Bump Bump, Baby! Bump Pow! Bump Bump Bump Pow! Bump Pow! Bump Bump Bump sums up Bob’s lust for the bizarre. The crowd are loving it, lapping up the irreverence and indulging in a hoe-down near the front. It’s hard not to be won over by Bob’s sheer enthusiasm. His intense self belief and hysterical guitar playing cuts through any bullshit preconceptions we may have brought with us. He decides not to exit via the rubber dinghy, but as he walks through the crowd, we get the distinct feeling we’ve been invited in on a crazy idea, and it feels damn good.