Boob Slapping: Bob Log III @ Spaceland September 11, 2007

I had no intention of going out last night for a show. However, while browsing for something to do, Bob Log III was stumbled upon and I was informed I should go see this guy. He's a bit odd but sure to be entertaining.... he wears a motorcycle helmet with a telephone mic through the front. How could I not go? So I ended up at Spaceland looking for a good time.

I have a small special place for the white man blues in my heart; I absolutely adore the Black Keys. Bob Log III falls somewhere on the outskirts of this genre. But other than that and a part in Doo Rag, I knew nothing about him (also nothing about Doo Rag, except for the fact I was told this is where he was before). I also didn't know that old dorky guys ever actually ventured out to Spaceland. It looked like outside the Sony studios at lunch with droves of guys in cargo shorts and UFO t-shirts wandering around. I suddenly found myself in cock-rock-ville.

I have no idea who the two opening bands were. Spaceland did not post anything on their site or myspace or wherever. All I know is that fans of the second band seemed quite pissed off that no one really "appreciated" the band and that the guys shouldn't have brought their girlfriends to the show. Huh? Whatever. Cock rock.

So, this Bob guy. He came out on stage donning a silver sparkly motorcycle helmet with a black phone as a mic that looked like another motorcycle man may have gotten pissy and shoved it in place there. He also was wearing a black leather one piece, that was just slightly loose, and studded with metal squares. I think it said "LOG" on the back spelled out with those too. I couldn't see his feet, however I was told he had a small bass drum and a cymbal that he feet used. Most of the songs he was using a slide for, very blusey-country sounding. There was also occasionally the sampled beat coming from somewhere as well. All this while seated in a metal folding chair.

Maybe it was because I was not familiar with the music, but after a while the off beat guitar picking and one-two thumping coming from the drums/cymbal seemed to blend into each other. The energy levels kept up though, and the crowd suddenly turned into a frat party at some point, complete with the really drunk dude running in circles. And subsequently running to a bathroom. There was also the rarely seen encore tonight. For the second half a chick ran up on stage in a tubetop and may or may not have flashed the audience, but regardless stayed on stage rubbing/smacking her boobs for the "Clap Your Tits" song. Again, I felt like I was at a college party.

It was unlike anything I've seen really before, although some performers down on the 3rd St. promenade come close. He really reminded me of a sleazy guy from some backwater town, but I didn't mind. And no one else did either.