The Savemore Lounge is what you may call a dive, a little dumpy bar in the heart of Lincoln Square. But with that said it has more character then almost any place I’ve ever been. It’s also surprisingly a great place to catch the musical stars of tomorrow.
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Haywood Yards, Eddy Burke, & Adam Mormolstein |
 Entertainment
Art
The Savemore Lounge
Chicago, Ill.
April 13, 2007
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Adam Mormolstein has Bob Dylan’s hair, a James Taylor’s face, the voice of David Gates, the guitar skills of Paul Simon, and a sweater vest he may have been willed by John Denver. Watching him play in a bar that serves quarter beers and looks like it may have been the inspiration setting for Stephen King’s Silver Bullet, is truly time travel.
Never before have I seen an underground show where a tin money pail was started and champion drinkers of generations past get up from the bar for a Cajun two-step. There’s barely enough room in a crowd that packs itself in and stretches back to the door. The flicker in the eyes of old Vietnam vets were complimented by their comments on how talented this young artist hailing from Skokie. He sang songs about girls who have left their marks on him, songs about the silly rules between the sexes, and about not showing our emotions.
His lyrics made a few strangers awkwardly yet innocently kiss without having to say anything. For this, he should be proud - if not for all the attendees basking in his final song “Hey Seattle Sweet Chicago” that sent off a girl with an obvious stiff upper lip. For a man who sites his influences as Packy Lundholm and older men at the gym, this musician will have serious impact on the Chicago folk music scene once the word gets out.
Eddy Burke on the other hand came down from Minneapolis like a troublemaker on probation. With a pair of sunglasses he borrowed from his friend, Bobby, he looked at his bottle of Pabst and remarked, “What does this do? I hear this is the only way you can activate the Benadryl.”
He then took a drag from his cigarette, and remarked, “What does this do?” Finally he looked at the crowd, raised his glasses briefly and said, “I just wanted to get a good look at all you fine people. Okay, see you later.” Kicking off his shoes, Eddy proceeded to sing songs about the women he’s wronged and how they’re out looking for him. With a wit that could cut precious stones and fingers that lacerate his own strings, Burke can sing circles around the first color the human eye registers.
For his self-image of being a scoundrel, he’s incredibly raw in his lyrics spitting he was “shaken like a martini and knocking like an engine.” In his touching ballad, “The Keys to St Mary’s” he sings: “Up on Bryn Mawr they have neighborhood watches, down by the lake they fight over matches, and my heart wonders how much of it matters.” Eddy is by far one of the most tangible and expansive singers in emerging American music with over 500 songs penned and performed.
Burke never stops making music, figuring out how to stack water glasses on a table, how to make strawberry ice cream taste better, or how to get your girl.
Mike Semrad of Haywood Yards, who had walked a tightrope getting the show booked at The Savemore Lounge at the last minute, winked at me from below his grandpa hat and said, “This’ll be great.” Sure enough with the help of Shankar on banjo, Adriene Gregg on violin and backing vocals, Alex Stack on bass, and Austin Hall on drums, Haywood Yards delivered a richly infused sound which stands independent from their heroes such as The Good Life and Howlin’ Wolf.
Melodies similar to The Corrs and gentle vocals which may as well be signature to this project solely, Haywood Yards has an Irish meets bluegrass feel and draw everyday people without itinerated images. If Jim Croce wanted to join a rock band full time, he wouldn’t leave these guys alone.
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