Rock Lit Circa 2007:
Jucifer Live at Lenny’s in Atlanta
The lucid dream power duo, JUCIFER, lived in Athens from 1991 to 2001 and are now self-described to be nomadic. They stopped along their voyage at Lenny’s on Decatur Street in Atlanta on November 29th. Three opening acts warmed the dressed-to-rock, medium-size audience on a crisp, cool autumn evening. The twenty-four ounce cans of PBR beer cost only $3 and were worth every penny of numbness, for the pounding on stage was assaulting.
“That drummer is pretty good,” I said to my young friend.
“Yeah, he is,” she agreed.
I warned her, “If you think this guy is good and powerful, wait. Edgar is ten or twenty times that.”
Next, Public Enemy was on. The pre-game music was the Intro to their first of several groundbreaking rap albums, “Yo! Bumrush the Show.” We did not get “Bum,” instead we were reminded by N.W.A. to “F**k Tha Police.”
And then I saw her. What if Jim Morrison was a girl? What if Tina Turner’s thighs had played guitar and bass? Cloaked like a medieval witch or warlock, she sulked in the shadows getting the stage set just right. Twice she turned to the sonic breeze to cool her hot body. She was below the light next–a woman and her instrument barely visible in the almost dark. I begged for more flashes to illuminate her. Then the cloak was removed. The sexual energy was palpable as the noise started and she summoned her formidable powers.
And then her husband appeared, breaking my trance. The ripped T-shirt and Daniel Boone hat. The wry expression. Edgar is simply the most provocative and powerful drummer in the world, and he knows it. The beating starts. His physical onslaught reminds me of a linebacker or running back totally dominating a football game. He is Daniel “BOOM” pioneering an unfathomable tunnel of sound and energy.
“Nothing prepares you for him,” I said to my shocked friend.
They are but two and are seamlessly one. JUCIFER is not simply tight the audience gets through the many stops and starts; they are married tight.
Amber is the most overtly sexual rock star in America today. Her short, townie-girl dress comes only to here. Her powerful thighs make love to her instrument. I want to be the cut on her knee. I want to be her wristband, soaking up her sweat. At one point, she whips her guitar repeatedly in a feedback circle that would make the members of Sonic Youth blush. Her black panties are the only thing between the audience and pure rock and roll bliss.
Oh…it was as if I was in love. I finally got what a groupie gets. I got what it feels like to be in awe of and love with that control, that power, that energy. I had succumbed to unabashed gawking–my fandom overcoming me.
The drum kit illuminates to tell me that this is not a dream. I look over at a dude up front and center. I wonder what he is thinking about Amber. From the side of the stage I have the better full view of her, but she is in his face. I bet he loves her too.
Edgar works the cymbals while flashing his wife a pearly white “Hey Honey” grin. Their chemistry has no boundary; their unison has no division. They are one. JUCIFER is brutal and beautiful like life. They may be the best two person band of all-time. I am utterly enraptured, and it all culminates with the diva on the ground on her back absolutely screwing her instrument, her face an ecstatic baby doll alabaster.
Then she is up flash-dancing in perfect leather boots. Closing with force is a given for this pair, but the final encore, “Amplifier,” is easily the most melodic moment of the night. Amber’s singing is so lovely when she wants it to be. “I like Becky’s amplifier,” whimsically floats through the air. Then it is over.
She looks for something on the side stage behind the wall of speakers as I stare and wish for more. One lone roadie escorts her as she walks through the thankful audience to hang out at the T-shirt stand that has been sold out of JUCIFER shirts for the entire evening.
I wait behind one other fan then say, “Amber. Remember me…I used to always eat at The Grit.”
“Oh yeah,” she says. “Hey…It’s good to see you.”
“That’s right,” she is saying as I hug her.
“I’m going to write about you…I think you are going to be the biggest star in the world.”