Jackson Hole Underground

Just back from cycling through the Alps, correspondent Favio Snimp went over to Driggs last week for his first taste of the Music on Main free concert series, and promptly had his mind blown. Here’s his account of a two-night bender with the best band to come out of Britain lately.

Photographs by David Swift © 2008. Click to enlarge.

I defer to Jim Stanford’s ample research for specifics about The New Mastersounds, even if he has yet to establish whether or not the band’s name is intended to be ironic.

I’m not sure why they blew me away — why, that’s the very definition of art! — but there I was, dragging myself to the Moose well after bedtime Friday to catch their second local show after NMS had rocked Driggs Thursday night. Because there is plenty of room on the Internets, allow me to dwell on what makes The New Mastersounds one of the best live bands I’ve ever heard.

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(Click on photos to enlarge.)

In September 2005, in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, the musicians and music fans of Jackson Hole held a benefit to help victims of the storm. The event was called “Raise the Roof,” and it raised $10,000 for the Tipitina’s Foundation and the New Orleans chapter of Habitat for Humanity.

Earlier this week, I got a chance to see how those seeds have grown.

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We interrupt the political coverage for a quick flash of music news.

First, Banyan, the art-jazz-fusion group fronted by trumpeter Willie Waldman, returns to the Mangy Moose in Teton Village tonight. Joining the band on bass is local boy made good, Andy Calder.

Also, Grand Targhee has added Lyle Lovett to close out its Targhee Fest on July 20.

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Every time Galactic plays the Mangy Moose they make us feel like we’re at Tipitina’s in New Orleans, hot and sweaty.

But when they bring along rapper Chali 2na of Jurassic Five, the place gets nuttier than the Audubon Zoo.

Standing 6-foot-6 with a smile as wide as the Mississippi River, the J-5 singer had the joint jumping last night. He was commanding and smooth, busting out rhymes with a positive vibe.

Apparently, the promise of hip-hop meets psychedelic funk gets the testosterone pumping. By my rough estimation, the density of the crowd measured 10 dpsi — dudes per square inch. I’ve done Bikram yoga in cooler conditions.

Guys were charging toward the stage like it was the Tower Three Chute. Fellas, the front row ought to be reserved for the ladies (and the occasional photographer).

The dance floor was a mosh pit, and the crowding a chafe for much of the night. But Galactic was able to churn up enough energy to let us do as they do in New Orleans: roll with it.

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“Jackson Hole, do you have soul?” Grace Potter warbled to a sold-out Mangy Moose.

With that, the 24-year-old rocker from Vermont launched into a cover of the Band of Gypsies tune “Who Knows.” The song is by Hendrix, but Potter — long-legged in her black miniskirt and tall leather boots — became the female incarnation of Robert Plant, wailing and writhing and even twirling the microphone over her head. She paused to tell those chatting at the back of the bar, “Shut the fuck up.”

It wasn’t until about halfway through her show Wednesday that Jackson Hole got to peer into Potter’s soul. And we found out why everyone’s talking about this band.

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