Creative Loafing interns Ted Scheinman and Brian Reed (photo credit) make their first trip to Skipper's to see The Radiators while Senior Editor Eric Snider has his first Slayer concert experience.
The Radiators, Sun., July 29, Skipper’s Smokehouse, Tampa
By Ted Scheinman
We arrived at Skipper’s Smokehouse a half-hour later than expected. Disoriented by our, um, pre-concert routine, we found certain aspects of navigation difficult from the outset; a tricky detour on Fletcher complicated matters even further. By the time we arrived, the Glass Camels had finished their set, and the Radiators’ roadies were going to work.
I’m interning at the Loaf this summer, and I’d never been to Skipper’s. The place struck me as something conceived by Jimmy Buffet during a bout of delirium tremens — though Mr. Buffett’s brand of surf-blah was mercifully absent from the evening’s soundtrack. If I were a rumrunner with a blues habit, Skipper’s is where I’d hide.
The Radiators (pictured) are a New Orleans hot-licks combo into which the collective rhythmic ability of the white race seems to have been consolidated; these guys fucking breathe in syncopation. The music is all reckless precision, with coiled guitar choreography, systematic squeals and harmonic funk.
This article appears in Jul 25-31, 2007.