Robbie Fulks; February 15, 2010; The Hideout

I’d been cutting back on my trips to Chicago the last couple years, but the combination of Robbie Fulks Monday night February residency at the Hideout and Marcus’s birthday proved to be a good enough reason to make the drive. I adore the Hideout. The tiny little bar is the only business for blocks, nestled amongst warehouses and next to the city’s maintenance vehicle lot. I’d wonder how they survive, but I already know- loyal customers and quality booking. If I lived in Chicago I would be there all the time.

The room was packed when we arrived slightly after the listed 7 PM start time, but luckily we ran into Alex Millar at the bar and he had room at his table. Each week Robbie has been featuring a different line-up, the week before had been Nora O’Connor and next week’s show was with the band. Tonight’s show was listed as a string trio with bass fiddle. Since it didn’t give any names, I was expecting a fiddle to complete the group. So it was a pleasant surprise when the second person on stage was the immensely likeable Robbie Gjersoe, an amazing guitarist. The first song took place in near darkness, the only light a flashlight that Fulks held under his chin, ghost story style. Over a walking bass line, he intoned a “song” about how they “were putting on a show.” For the rest of the night whenever something started with that same sort of bass line, Fulks would joke that “it sounds like the first song.”

When the lights came up, it revealed Fulks, always the height of fashion, in a flowered shirt and big, thick-rimmed Harry Carey style glasses. The show went back and forth between obscure covers and Fulks’ originals, with slightly more emphasis on the former. The title track from Georgia Hard and “Rock Bottom,” off his debut Country Love Songs, were two of the original highlights. Since Fulks tends to surround himself with excellent guitarists, one tends to forget how amazing a player he is. During solo exchanges between the Robbies, there were several moments of jaw dropping guitar playing. Gjersoe also kept things interesting with his changing line-up of guitars. The most intriging of these was a tiny guitar that his brother brought him from South America, about the size of a parlor guitar, which was a big hit with the audience, especially Alex Millar who was very vocal in his appreciation.

They wrapped up the night in just under two hours, allowing us to get back to Madison at midnight. Since it was so unusual, I told Marcus we should go out for one more beer, but he declined. I guess technically it was no longer his birthday.