A few things have changed since I last attended IOTA. The most important change is seating, the lack of which was always a gripe I held with this venue. Additionally, there are cafe tables and chairs in the main room, and the bar has been realigned with the rear wall. Old wooden pews have been tucked where dead space once was, and the entrance has been adjusted to minimize interruption. Standing and drinking remain the standard operation here, but now the chatter so present in all IOTA shows is quarantined to the back corners and doesn’t threaten to drown out the music. I like this new IOTA.
Pleased to see they’ve remedied these annoyances once and for all, I took a seat a little early waiting for Charles Walston (Bourbon Dynasty, The Vidalias) to start. Charles played rhythm guitar and harmonica, his neighbor Chris played lead guitar, and as it turns out, this was the first “proper” gig they’ve played, apart from farmers markets. They played eight songs, silly country songs like “Low Tolerance for High Maintenance,” and a song written solely to mock Twitter, “If hobos were on Twitter what would they say?” being one of the more ridiculous lines.
They continued their performance with more than enough songs regarding the death of a friend taking his own life, “Counting out sleeping pills / One by one / ‘Lot easier than a rope / Guess it was cleaner than a gun.” Another song was about a dog named Ginger that Charles will never forget. (“She was a Labrador-Coonhound mix, great dog.”) They rounded it out with a few surprising gems, including “The Best I Can Do,” which had a Johnny Cash feel: “I can’t give you fancy things like diamonds and gold / But I’ll give you all the love your heart can hold / I’ll be there for whatever life throws at you / It’s not a lot, but it’s the best I can do.” Charles Walston was no-frills, not a single one. His plain country folk, with a few sweet blues riffs thrown in by his neighbor, was straightforward and likable.
After Walston took his leave, a small woman with a large guitar took the stage. Surrounding her were three men: one on drums, one upright bass, and the final with a saxophone in hand and an accordion at his feet; they were ready. Mary Battiata checked her tuning, whispered with the sound guy, and waited for the room of maybe twenty people to grow completely silent.
Then Mary, an Arlington local, thanked us all for coming with a whisper, and announced that this first tune would be a new one. Her voice, a little weak and shaky, benefitted the first song by making the lyrics sound frustrated and strained à la Emmylou. She then announced to the crowd, “My New Year’s resolution was to write songs with fewer words. These two aren’t it.” The crowd laughed, and she burst into her next song with zeal, ready to make up for what she’d lost. “You can’t shame me / I did the best I could,” she belted, and her defiance was inspiring. It reminded me of Kathleen Edwards singing “The Cheapest Key.” (Album: Asking for Flowers, buy it.)
Mary sang a few “high-brow” pieces about politics, chemical weaponry, and current events, which is typical of her folk roots, along with the overly-educated banter between songs. The sharp and thoughtful lyrics and folk-psychedelic accordion arrangement were not the classic country to which I’ve grown accustomed. Often shaking her head and stepping far back from the mic as if attempting to release the final note she’d been missing, Mary sang each breath until her lungs gave way. The highlights were definitely the covers (my apologies), “Sharp Cutting Wings“ by Lucinda Williams, “The Stars Burned Out” by Nick Solomon (whom she contacted to pay a whopping $60 in royalties but who won’t return her calls ), and the finale, “Flashes and Cables,” written by a young songwriter from Denton, TX, Will Johnson (Centro-Matic). This last one was fresh and exciting, with its tempo changes and anthem-like chorus. I hope Mary is right when she says that “Will Johnson, he’s going to be a big star.” Maybe Mary Battiata can snag Will on his way up; she most certainly has the right voice to do his poetry justice.
Now the leader of the Alt Country band Little Pink, Mary Battiata was formerly a Washington Post reporter and foreign correspondent.
