N.L. at the Fish Fry with Soulajar and Spud - By N.L. Belardes

Mardi Gras winds down every year just after a final hurrah called Fat Tuesday. I don’t typically celebrate, but this year I knew Soulajar was going to be performing with ska king and company over at the Fish Fry.

Of course I’m just a lowly novelist wanting a glimpse of the music scene, to capture some of its essence and drama for Paperback Writer, just so readers can be entertained and enlightened...

The evening began with me talking with Fishlips owners Kip and Shawna about some hockey songs at the Fish Fry. Shawna said, “I like to read your blog. You’re funny.”

I smiled, talked to Kip and then sat for a little while by the pool tables.

Before I even arrived I was starving. I can’t function with an empty stomach so I walked over to some tables in the middle of the room, hoping a waitress would feel sorry for me and offer a menu. Meanwhile, local Bakersfield band Soulajar got to performing up on the Fish Fry stage.

Why see Soulajar? Besides having a great name, clean website and a killer Fat Tuesday flier ( I should have uploaded it... sorry), Soulajar’s improvisational music is rich in texture, vocals, and even has a bit of a new twist these days. Vocalist Jon Ranger and company took a step back recently then regrouped with a new outlook on their music. Ranger himself decided to get from behind the keyboards and get in touch with the crowd in a whole new way by being a front man with a Mic. Right away I noticed he could explore the stage and the crowd while allowing a new chap from London to take over keyboardist duties.





I spoke with Ranger for an upcoming episode of the Buck City Podcast and he indicated that although their CD isn’t out yet, the new regrouping of the band promises to bring their style of rock to old and new fans with lots shows and music throughout 2006.

While Soulajar was into their performance I finally gave up on a Fish Fry waitress. My luck is completely opposite of Matildakay's. I told her later that night, “I’m transparent. I hang out a lot by myself and when it comes to getting a drink or food I might as well be a ghost.” Of course she never has that problem as she knows the bartender. I just give her mean looks when she comes back with drinks.

While I wanted to see all of Soulajar, I was just too hungry. I wandered down to Gumbeauxs where there was a hopping little gathering and some kind of backyard bayou band that scared me right out the door. Forget about food there. I practically ran back across Chester Avenue. All I could think of was that mama on the Waterboy and the way she cooked those Louisiana vittles...

I headed back towards the Fish Fry and suddenly remembered Mama Rhoomba’s. The food is far too expensive, but by this time I could have eaten Cesareo who I saw plodding through the night like a Chicano ghost. He didn’t look too different from the image of Che on the wall staring at me from inside Mama Rhoomba’s.



Inside, there was a happy group of people chowing on food. I just sat and ordered a mountain of empanadas, bread, a giant spicy tri-tip and Sangria.



On the TV was some Keanu Kanunu Reeves devil flick where I got to watch him drown some chick in a bathtub so she could see the other side of the heavenly brass knuckles underworld that he was constantly battling. I watched it in the reflection of a window.

Cesareo passed the by again just as Kanunu punched some ghoul in the chops.

Just then I could hear some guy in a green ADIDAS-type jacket as he hugged the waitress/bartender. “I’m listening to Soulajar,” he said and tried to get her to go to the Fish Fry later.

I headed back to the Fish Fry hot on the heels of Cesareo once again. He was in search of his Mardi Gras crown, drums, and a few other madcap errands. He walked really fast and disappeared like he was the ghost of Che on his way through a Bolivian jungle.

Back inside I watched Soulajar perform and Jon Ranger leave the stage while the band jammed. I looked around for him and for a second thought he might have gone to Mama Rhoomba's too. I then went and hung out by the pool tables to try to be as inconspicuous as possible. I was in a far corner when Spud from Bakotopia came by. I told him he was doing a good job with his the local paper's niche market site.



I find it interesting that if you build a website and you’re already a part of the local media you can get awards. nlbelardes.com has no awards, but is a local competitor amongst a fragmented media created to bring the local paper more traffic and eventually more advertising dollars. Spud and I did agree that cross-linking is how websites get high rankings and is necessary between medias. I think he forgot that I understand such ranking processes, that nlbelardes.com has a 4/10 on google rankings, just as Bakotopia does. In fact, I would consider nlbelardes.com and all of its affiliate sites as being somewhat larger and more cutting edge for grassroots media… ahead of even Bakotopia.

Think about how many millions went into Bakotopia. My site and conglomerate of sites? I maintain built it for free. Sort of a Bakersfield Drudgereport proving you don't need big media to spawn an art-related meida site that gets attention. Sure, Spud indicated his brother's failure in the LA music scene inspired some of the direction for Bakotopia, but would it have existed without big media money? And why Bakersfield? I asked him in an interview. Since he built the site in Colorado, why not Denveratopia, or Colorado Springsatopia?

But who was I to argue? Bakotopia is part of the local paper, so has strong friends in the media. It gets awards because it is the media blogging, and that's big news to the media. Peers rewarding peers. We had an interesting conversation and interview for Buck City where Dan talked a lot about uplifting the local music scene through one more promotional tool: Bakotopia…

Of course the entire time we talked, the ska king crooned and jammed. Matildakay arrived and got her drinks so fast I thought she must have went behind the counter to get them. I soon got in another conversation with a young lady who read my novel. She wondered if I had a negative view towards Bakersfield. “No, just towards Lords in the 1970s,” I said. “Explore my website. You’ll discover whether I like Bakersfield or not.”


More beads, please...

This entry was posted by N.L. Belardes, on Wednesday, March 01, 2006. You can leave your response.