The Weasel Walter Welcome Wagon

An extremist drummer moves to town to fuck shit up and kick your genitalia off

Which doesn't exactly always pay the bills, of course. "It's been a struggle to survive," he admits. "I lived under Spartan conditions, devoted to making creative output." Sage advice came from saxist Sabir Mateen: " 'The reality is a hand of cards,' " Weasel recalls being told. " 'You play the fucking deck or you don't.' " The young drummer heeded the call: "My attitude is not be a martyr and whine about it."

And now he's loose in Brooklyn. It's a December evening at Zebulon in Williamsburg, and Weasel, sitting in with rock-oriented free-jazz eccentrics Talibam!, pulls off a bumbling instrumental switcheroo, commandeering Kevin Shea's drum kit but soon thereafter writhing on the floor with both a guitar and a bass clarinet, flailing, goofily meting out rock-star-worthy high-kicks. After impromptu gigs at the Stone and Pianos, the revamped trio schemed to record an album before the Zebulon set: immediately before. As in, get together in the afternoon, record it, package it, and sell it that night. And, as usual with Weasel, mission accomplished. I paid five bucks.

Get used to this face.
Howard Huang
Get used to this face.

Weasel Walter performs with Cellular Chaos at Death by Audio January 15, with Peter Evans at Silent Barn January 23, and with Marc Edwards at the Knitting Factory January 31

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