JD Pinkus and WhiskeyDick Bring Tried & True Dirty Rock Asheville’s Fleetwood Dive Bar (SHOW REVIEW)

For more than 30 years, JD Pinkus has been on the radar of every self-respecting punk, alt, and psychedelic music fan on the planet. From joining Austin punk legends Butthole Surfers in the mid-80s to his time with the Melvins in the late 2000s, not to mention various other projects including Honky, Daddy Longhead, and Areola 51, Pinkus is a guy who has always unabashedly let the music take him wherever his imagination wandered, and his current musical offerings — just him with a banjo and a pedalboard that seems to work magic — are no less outstanding than anything else in his history. 

Friday, November 5 found Pinkus at Fleetwoods, a friendly little hole in the wall dive bar in West Asheville, NC, known also for its day job as a wedding venue and vintage shop. Pinkus took the stage in the chapel, flanked by racks of wedding gowns and fur coats, weird projections in the background, barefoot and looking every bit like you’d expect a banjo-wielding punk icon to look after settling in the mountains of Western North Carolina. The lights were dim, the sound divine after the usual glitches were resolved, the audience a welcome change from the folks often seen out and about on the Asheville music scene: They were there to hear the music, not to use it as a prop for their Instagram stories and to shout over the artists. 

Pinkus kicked off the night with a killer loop of warped and warbling banjo laid over layers of his voice singing a melodic chorus of “Roll me up another fatty,” up and down like a mountain road, curving back on itself before he laid into the opening track off his latest album, Fungus Shui. His sense of humor was as evident as his musical skill as he tore through highlights of both his solo banjo albums, including “Happy Cow,” “Pissin’ Dirty,” and the beautifully snarky and unsettlingly honest “You Look Funny When You Cry.” If “punkytonk” wasn’t such an asinine portmanteau, Pinkus would have thrown out the perfect example with the stripped-down “Broke, Soaked and Dirty,” and it wouldn’t be a complete review without mentioning the grungy, nearly-surreal trip into Pinkus’s brain with “Woke Up Dead.” And as if the whole thing wasn’t fucking trippy and cool enough already, the audience was treated to a perfectly Pinkus rendition of Harry Nilsson’s “Everybody’s Talkin’.”

Solo Pinkus live isn’t what fans of the Butthole Surfers or Melvins might expect, but it’s every bit as powerful as when he plays backed by a full band. The skill with which he manipulates the sounds from a single instrument, the lyrical whimsy combined with stark reality, the easy-going way he interacts with his audience: all of these come together to make Pinkus an artist whose live performances absolutely should not be missed. 

JD Pinkus is a hard act to follow, but fellow Texans WhiskeyDick pulled it off with their bizarre and beautiful blend of honky tonk and metal. There were times it almost sounded like you were catching a whiff of early Metallica, and then they took it to the next level, belting out darkly comedic lyrics over the frenzied acoustic guitars — and that’s all they were, two guys with guitars, deep Austin drawls, and an audience that was flat in love with the sound. Reverend Johnson played a silent straight man to Fritz’s hilarious and easy stage banter; these are two guys you’d want to know, even if their music wasn’t absolutely stellar. Highlights of their set included the raucous and wonderfully offensive “Wookiee Pussy” and an absolutely unexpected cover medley, including one of the best renditions of “Purple Rain” this reviewer has ever heard. 

The crowd, the music, the setting — Pinkus and Whiskey Dick at Fleetwoods provided the perfect cap to a long and chilly week, bringing much-needed dirt and authenticity to this booming town. All that can be said beyond that is more, please, and soon. 

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