I knew Owen Temple was a good songwriter. During the time he spent in
They played it straight for the first half of the set; Adam playing songs from
Several of the songs were written with Adam who brought his terrific sense of words to every song he was a part of. For their shows, they alternate songs, Owen playing one then Adam. Unfailingly, Adam would preface every song with a long-winded, ambling story about the writing or recording of it, to the point where you just wanted to tell him to spit it out already. Any animosity was forgotten when he finally got around to playing the song, as they were all terrific. Apparently Adam doesn’t leave the state of
Toward the end of the first set Owen confessed that in the time he and Adam have been touring together they’ve written a lot of songs. But these were the kind they realized they couldn’t release under their own name or it would ruin their careers. Thus Gary Floater was born. Gary Floater writes country songs, and he has singer in mind for every one of them. He doesn’t quite understand politics, he’s quick to anger, he mixes his metaphors and is probably dumber than you would guess. Since they didn’t want their name son this project anywhere, they became the Gary Floater cover band, Owen as Daryl Watkins and Adam as Puffy Dan Walters. In fact they created such a realistic back history for him that many of the folks at the show were convinced he was real. All of that was funny enough, but the songs turned out to be absolutely hilarious.
“The Dirty South” was the first track we were treated to. Every verse ended the same way “I punched him straight in the mouth, because that’s how we do it in the dirty south.” The punchee ranged from his kindergarten teacher to Tanya Tucker (it was his wife that did the punching in the latter case). As the night wore on they couldn’t stay away from the Floater material. “When the Eagle Screams” has
Seldom has a basement show been this laugh out loud funny. With this pair of songwriters we got the best of both worlds, music and humor.
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