A Short Trip into the Unknown

I’m really late on this (and thus have forgotten many details), but I’ll give it a shot anyway. Back in late April, Matt (who can chime in with the lost details) went down to the always interesting Southgate House to see the enigma that is Unknown Hinson. The man who is tatted across the arm of Hank Williams, III has been one of our points of interest since we found out he was the voice of Early from Squidbillies.

We made our way down to Newport on the Levee and were looking for a little pre-show drink and grub. A failed attempt to find a spot at the Hofbrauhaus (thanks to drunks from the Reds’ day game – including one, um, handicapped fellow who fell into me in the hallway) led us to Bulldog’s. It’s a pretty typical sports bar, but a highly functional one at that. A large circular bar with lots of TVs and a decent selection of draft was a pleasant welcome as we walked in. We decided we just wanted some appetizers as we weren’t that hungry… well, we could have split one at this place. Little did we know that our order would yield the largest plate of nachos and quesadilla that we’ve ever seen (along with some damn good onion rings – I’m pretty much a health nut). Drink wise we tried something that the bartender sold as being “pretty much like Blue Moon”. Uhhhh no. IT was a lemony weizen. Which was fine, but didn’t pair just right with what we were eating (Mexi-ish food & German beer together… not so much). After that we went with a bucket of “Meeler Lite” (inside joke). So why all this info about the meal? 1. I love food. 2. Trying to take down those nachos combined with the inhaling of the beer led to stomach cramps only comparable to those brought on by the “double-pork chop incident” at Spagio. It pretty well ruined the next few hours for me. Constantly needing to stand up to help ease the pain.

At any rate, we made it through the torrential rain over to the Southgate House. Unknown brought in an even more eclectic group of misfits for people watching pleasure than normal… and if you’ve ever been there you know it sets a pretty high standard on a normal night. The thematic appearance of weirdness carried over from the crowd to the stage as well.

The opener was a completely drunken ball of awesomeness named Scotty Karate. So awesome at drunkenness that he has a beer named after him. He stumbled onto the stage dawning an over-sized “Loyal Order of Water Buffalo” hat, complete with horns. Mr. Karate had a very interesting set-up that included him sitting in a chair with his guitar while also playing a kick drum and a hi hat… not to mention covering the vocals as well. A true Honky-Tonkin’ “one man band” indeed. He proceeded to rip off a set of very similar sounding, yet individually hysterical songs. Some gems of lyrics that I only wish I could recall. Between each song he would rattle around the stage to find his set-list that he had thrown just minutes earlier. His combination of drunkenness and blindness required him to hold the list within inches of his face to make out what the next song was to be. The end of his set presented an opportunity to grab a Jack & Coke to help me burp out the remainder of the uncomfortable feeling that the pre-show activities had left me with.

The break was short before Hinson’s backing band came out. A sharp dressed couple of throwbacks to the 60’s that were solid throughout the whole show. Then to the stage came the man, the myth… the self proclaimed “hillbilly vampire king of country-western troubadours”. With a token Early Cuyler “Wheew!”, the crowd was ready. I’m honestly not terribly familiar with all of Unknown’s songs and it was difficult to understand the lyrics from the spot we were sitting up in the highest part of the balcony. I will tell you that Hinson can freakin’ shred it on the guitar. I would go see him again just for that. He absolutely tore it up on a cover of Hendrix’s “Purple Haze”.

The night closed uncharacteristically as we left a little early. Being beat down tired and dealing with the still pouring rain just made it a necessity. Still troubled by the damage done to our stomachs the next day, our first thoughts were of breakfast. We hit the Original Pancake House in West Chester to find what would be the biggest omelets in the world… 4 eggs! Oh, and you get a side of short stack pancakes. I ate about a third of it and had the rest for lunch the next day. Definitely worth the $10 price to cover 2 meals.