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    I want to braid their hair together. Lay the four members of C2 and The Brothers Reed head to head to head to head and intertwine the long locks — curly and thick and black and brown. Smooth and tight as the rock-and-roll soul I’m hearing. Sweet as dolls.

    OK, this might be the tequila talking, but sex appeal cascades along the Zanzabar stage. Hair, I mean. It’s over the shoulders of singer/bassist Cameron Clark, who jumps down from his perch on the bass drum and leans into the crowd. His patterned velvet jacket makes flowers of his petite upper body while his voice makes flowers of notes and then sets them on fire. It reminds me of Robert Plant, but with Kentucky roots — a higher-registered grit. The tequila makes me — front row, body thumping — try and make eyes with Clark, now on some Jeff Buckley-sounding la-de-da. A mother of three next to me leans in and whispers, "I know I shouldn't say this, but isn't he so cute?"

    Drummer Kody Reed — who is lost behind all his hair, Cousin It-style — backs the 60’s vibe with steady tempos. He’s a smoking gun, drumming so hard that a microphone keeps slipping from the snare. At some point he loses a cymbal. His hair sticks to the sweat on his forehead. Clark sings that maybe something’s wrong. The band mascot/mannequin, "Paul," sits on the stage wearing a jacket worthy of Elvis and seems to agree. 

    As thick as the ditties dropped on the Nord keyboard: James Weisher’s hair. It rains down in ringlets, marks his face with a mustache. His fingers run marathons across the keys, pumping chords reminiscent of The Band. It makes me think of a church without God; it makes me want to win something. A green “WEIGH STATION” road sign leans against the keyboard, referencing the band’s latest album, Weigh Station Tour, and the band’s first van. They bought the old Astro from a drug dealer and it later conked out in a weigh station lot. One of the dudes slept underneath the van that night. 

    I close my eyes and transport through time (somewhere between Woodstock and a revolution). I open them to guitarist Kelly Reed in a high-knees walk across his little section of stage once the band breaks from a slow groove. His hair is tucked under a backward ball cap (with a Chicago Bulls shirt, he appears to be the band “bro”). His lips are puckered into a firm O. I’m reminded of Alec Baldwin’s Donald Trump exaggeration on SNL. After the show, I mean to ask Kelly about this look that keeps me laughing. Is it a joke? Natural? Inherited? But, ya know, tequila.

    You can check out C2 and The Brothers Reed on Facebook or their website.

    Cover Photo: C2 and The Brothers Reed // by Arielle Christian

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