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view from the top : Numerous trails of Mount Naomi lead through some of the most spectacular alpine scenery found in the intermountain west./ Photo by Melissa Kamis
Today's word on journalism

Tuesday, September 7, 2004

"The First Amendment gives everyone -- including nuts -- free speech,
but free speech has a purpose: that the people may judge for themselves
and bury the nuts with indignation. We fail our founding fathers if we
let blowhards rage on talk radio, in little magazines and in nasty
books without delivering counterattacks.


   -- Barron's, Aug. 9, 2004 (Thanks to alert WORDster John Mollwitz)

Energetic Hasenpfeffer & Bomdiggity need space for their funk and room for another voice

By Jack Saunders


Hasen Pfeffer, left, gets into the music while Rachael Gianni, on trumpet, and Phil Leffler lend support. / Photo by Jack Saunders

March 2, 2004 | Popular local band Hasenpfeffer and the Bomdiggity (H&B) showed off its brand of eclectic "funky jazz rock" to the unfamiliar surroundings at Firehouse Pizza Saturday.

"This is our first time here," says lead singer Hasen Pfeffer. "We've never played in a place where everyone is sitting down. We're a fun band, and we like it when everyone's having fun."

With little dance space, the back room of Firehouse was jammed with a noisy, head-swaying audience. Some eager-to-dance fans stood in limited space and shook awkwardly to the funky beats, while others focused on a large silver Sony TV and watched USU's basketball team play Irvine. H&B began the same time the game resumed its second half and USU led 25-22.

Known for their energetic, improvisational style and eccentric idiosyncrasies, H&B's groovy funk blended bass-driven, trumpet-blaring jam sessions with ear-friendly sing-along classics, such as Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire , the Tokens' The Lion Sleeps Tonight , Fine Young Cannibals' She Drives Me Crazy , and Ritchie Valens' La Bamba .

Their original lyrics were hard to decipher and difficult to hear as Pfeffer, more or less, talked fast (meaning he didn't and couldn't sing), as the overwhelmingly too-loud-for-this-small-room music drowned his vocals.

Pfeffer, looking like an extreme sport enthusiast, with skateboard knee pads, a fire-engine red crash helmet and ruby-colored ski goggles, sang lead like a mumbling auctioneer and danced like an epileptic. At first the padded gear appeared idiosyncratic, but after a couple of out-of-control, no-rhythm dance spasms, the gear seemed more plausible as a safety precaution.

At times (extremely anticipated times), Phil Leffler (lead guitarist) would take the mic and actually sing. His high-pitched, perfectly-on-key effort during The Lion Sleeps Tonight made Pfeffer's pitchy, fast-paced ramblings seem as annoying as squealing-guitar feedback.

Besides Leffler and Pfeffer, H&B showcased the jazzy trumpet of Rachael Gianni, the drumming free-for-alls of Leo Denoyer, the steady strums of guitarist Dave Eyre, and the bluesy harmonica blares of Matt Cline (nicknamed Moncheechee -- which happens to be a very cool word.)

I sat at my table entranced by the bands style, (except for Pfeffer's singing) while downing pieces (several) of a very delicious "Honolulu Delight" pizza and glancing periodically at the score on the TV -- USU up by two with 12 minutes left.

Fellow listener and father of the restaurant's owner, Gary Fox, shared his feelings of the more-than-half-his-age singing group.

"When I walked in they were playing blues," he says, "which I like. Now they're playing to the crowd, it's obvious they've (the crowd) heard them before. This must be their following."

Including among their following was 4-year-old Dallas, daughter of Denoyer's girlfriend, Jacoba Mendelkow. The band dedicated a song called He-man to Dallas, which prompted her and her mother to get up and dance.

Shortly after the song was over, the two left.

"It's her bed time," Mendelkow said.

Dallas wasn't the only one inspired to dance that night. During a beautifully sung bluesy "can't stop thinking about you" song by Leffler (the guy can sing) two couples slow-danced in-between tables. One of the guys dancing taunted his sitting, beer-drinking friend to ask the girl behind him to dance.

He didn't.

Before, the music drowned the raspy chants of Pfeffer. But, Leffler's voice was sharp and smooth and pierced through the meshed, intertwined music with ease. I wondered why Leffler sang as little as he did and why the band preferred Pfeffer instead. I also wondered if USU's basketball team would keep its lead and why the girl next to me just ate my last slice of pizza. But more importantly, where in the world did "Bomdiggity" come from?

All good questions. Only two were answered.

At the end of the show, the audience roared. They swarmed band members and said their "hellos" (and goodbyes.) I approached Pfeffer and dangled the "Bomdiggity" origin question in front of him.

"When we were thinking of a name, we tried thinking of the coolest sounding word possible," he said. "Bomdiggity was it."

Regardless of a close call at the end of the game, USU won 59-56.

I confronted the pizza-stealing girl. I never did get an answer, but we ended up going home together (OK, OK, she's my wife).

The band's funky jazz was different, but pleasant. They would be better off performing in an area where the crowd could dance. And probably better off making a few changes.

Philleffler and the Moncheechee sounds cool to me.


MS
MS

Copyright 1997-2004 Utah State University Department of Journalism & Communication, Logan UT 84322, (435) 797-1000
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