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B y Da N B Oll E S
COUrTESy Of aarON BUrrOUghS
Aaron Burroughs
Fired Up
BiteTorrent
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Th 20 Fr 21 Mo 24
RAILROAD EARTH THE BALLROOM THIEVES
CHARLIE PARR GOLDTOWN DUO
BETWEEN THE BURIED AND ME
DEAFHEAVEN, INTRONAUT, THE KINDRED Mo 24 We 26 We 26
BIG CHANGE ROUND UP
GREGORY DOUGLASS, MCKENNA LEE & THE MICROFIXERS, AND MORE!
DWEEZIL ZAPPA
AFTERNOON GUITAR MASTERCLASS
ZAPPA PLAYS ZAPPA
EVENING PERFORMANCE BY DWEEZIL
We 26
IRATION
THE MOVEMENT, NATURAL VIBRATIONS Th 27
GARY CLARK JR.
Th 27
WINTER BREAK: GLOW PARTY GAGU, JAWS
Fr 28
MAGIC HAT MARDIS GRAS KICKOFF PARTY
CONSPIRATOR, DOPAPOD
Fr 28
JESSE DEE
MARCH Sa THE WOOD BROTHERS 1 CHRIS KASPER
Sa 1
WHITE DENIM
We 5
BRETT DENNEN
Th 6
SECURITY PROJECT PLAYS PETER GABRIEL STEPHEN KELLOGG
Fr 7 Fr 7
THE DISTRICTS FOY VANCE
CAROLINE ROSE
FIRST FRIDAY
PAMELA MEANS, DJ LLU, DJ PRECIOUS
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MUSIC 59
for up-to-the-minute news abut the local music scene, follow @DanBolles on Twitter or read the live Culture blog: sevendaysvt.com/liveculture.
FEBRUARY
SEVEN DAYS
SOUNDBITES
Mo 24
02.19.14-02.26.14
Moving on, electronic dance music fans will want to swing by the next installment of the Hoptronica series at Red Square on Wednesday, February 26. In addition to the usual dance-floorbusting mashup of local and regional hip-hop and EDM DJs, this time around the event is highlighted by the return of a native son, mike henderson, aka endo, who grew up in Vermont and is making waves in international EDM circles. In addition to curating a style he’s dubbed “future classic” — a melodic hybrid of deep house and nu-disco — ENDO is regarded as a monster
BETWEEN THE BURIED AND ME
SEVENDAYSVt.com
As we reported a couple of weeks ago, Funkwagon front man aaron Burroughs’ Old North End apartment was recently destroyed by fire. Thankfully, Burroughs was able to get out safe and sound. Well, safe, at least. Sadly, all of the keyboardist and vocalist’s sound equipment was ruined. But because Burlington is Burlington and we tend to take care of our own, the scene is rallying behind Burroughs with a blowout benefit show at Nectar’s this Thursday, February 20. More on that in just a sec. Longtime readers know that, on occasion, I’ve had a little fun with Burroughs over his band’s name. I can’t quite call it a pet peeve, but I confess that the seemingly ubiquitous trend of funk bands using the word “funk” in their names causes my eye to do this weird rolling thing. Really, it’s a case of the pot calling the kettle black. My own musical résumé includes a pair of local ska bands whose names included the word ska — ska-ka-doodle doo! in high school and then the skamapahrodites in college. What can I say? Those were experimental times. The thing is, I’ve teased Burroughs about it only because I really like the guy, and knowing he’s a bit of a smartass himself, I figure he appreciates the gentle ribbing. I think he does. Maybe. Anyway, my first encounter with Burroughs was at a quiet indie-folk show some years back in what was then Parima’s Acoustic Lounge, where Burroughs worked — it’s now the Three Needs. Following a full band set from local songbird maryse smith,
Brattleboro’s wooden dinosaur took the stage and I fully consummated my band crush on them. WD played some gorgeously melancholy stuff that night, and I soon found myself lost in their warm, delicate sound in the plush, musical opium den that was the Acoustic Lounge. That’s when Aaron Burroughs burst into my life. In a break between songs, Burroughs, who was working as a cocktail server that night, strode purposefully to the stage, picked up a copy of WD’s then-new album, Nearly Lost Stars, and addressed a confused crowd. (I’m paraphrasing from memory here, but you’ll get the gist.) “All right, you fuckers!” he bellowed in his gospel-trained baritone. “Here’s how this is gonna go down. These fine folks are going to keep playing some beautiful music.” He gestured grandly toward the band. “And when they’re done, you ungrateful little bitches are gonna fork over $10 for this album. Right. Here,” he continued, tapping his finger on the cover for emphasis. “Because if you don’t, I will not serve you your precious Budweisers or your prissy Cosmopolitans! Do we understand each other?!” Silence. Then, slowly, a round of nervous applause.
“Thank you!” he shouted, giving a little bow and walking offstage. It was one of the ballsiest and most entertaining things I’ve ever seen at a show. And I became an instant fan of Aaron Burroughs. Fans of Funkwagon would likely recognize the sassy bombast I saw from him that night. Burroughs carries the same energy about him onstage when leading his band. And his inimitable style, not to mention his powerhouse pipes and crack bandmates, make Funkwagon a seriously entertaining band to watch, silly name or not. So because Burroughs doesn’t have my pulpit to make a case for himself, I’m going to borrow a page from his playbook to help him out. Ready? All right, you fuckers! Here’s how this is gonna go down. This Thursday at Nectar’s, some ass-kicking bands — Funkwagon, gang oF thieves and lynguistic civilans, to name a few — are going to play some ass-kicking music. And when they do, you ungrateful little bitches are gonna fork over $10 to see it. Because if you do, all of that money, and I do mean all of it, will go to help Aaron Burroughs. And if you don’t? Well, you’ll have Aaron Burroughs to answer to. Choose wisely. In all seriousness, here’s hoping Burroughs gets back on his feet soon. Because the local scene is a better place when he’s rocking — and haranguing — crowds.