A glimpse of Rock Gods? (get it, a statue of a god) Decide for yourself.
After a recent trip to the musical hub of southeast East Baton Rouge Parish, I experienced a musical euphoria simply dubbed, The Last Chalaron. Below is my brief yet thorough description of each piston that drives this V-6.
Christian Crawford- Simply put, worth the price of admission alone. If there were one person to be counted on to bring 110% intensity to the stage every night, Crawford is your man. He is a cocoon of talent simply waiting for the spotlight to shine upon him to release the beautiful gifts he veils inside. For those of you who simply can not be bought off with supreme artistry and majesty, the one thing that can top the treat your eyes are in for is the delight that will be delivered upon your ears. His highly honed pipes would make the likes of Pan himself jealous. Prepare to laugh, to cry, feel extreme warmth, and at times fear. You are in for a harmonic journey that is worthy of note for generations to come.
Ross Loftin- Just one take of this guy and the phrase “intestinal fortitude” will overcome your thoughts in a matter of seconds. Loftin is what a scholar would refer to as the proverbial man’s man. The boldness he uses to attack and control his elegant and graceful tool of the trade is a conundrum in itself. With each lick he aggressively caresses his guitar with, he seems to be making personal connections with anyone and everyone in earshot making it impossible for anyone to leave without feeling that they have been ravaged and altered for life. Having the fortunate experience myself to simply sit in on a personal jam session, I left the room with a disturbing yet peaceful grip on reality. Blues seemed bluer, reds were redder, and at the same time, the absence of light seemed exponentially more evil. As you will see for yourself after only a short time in his presence, Mr. Loftin sharpens all ends of the spectrum and everything in between. An experience which no human on this Earth should deprive themselves of.
Matt Dawson- Dawson is a widely revered intellect amongst the community of the extremely talented. His witty rhetoric is ever present in every song that the band has ever decided to deliver upon the chosen few who have had the incomparable experience of letting this man’s audible thoughts wash over their bodies. Dawson has the unique ability of demanding attention from the depths of shadows, for this reason among others, I’ve heard many reference him as a silent and stealthy assassin. A pillar of constant focus and demand of his craft, the common man can only hope to grasp the surface of the many layers that are so intricately woven into the bass lines that he supplies as the foundation for every musical note that is produced by the whole. If ever I were forced to compare the being that is Matthew Dawson to a historical landmark, it would most undoubtedly be the Parthenon atop the Acropolis that can be found in Athens. He is as sound and solid as the magnificent columns that frame the structure and he also is one of the few mortals that can claim the notoriety of sharing the same magnitude of overwhelming thoughts inside their walls.
Paul Buller- Or, as I prefer to think of him, El Matador. The name should make complete sense to anyone that has the intellectual capacity to muster up a decent pile of drool, and if you think it has something to do with his last name, you need to check on your salivary glands my friend. Buller is able to take something as powerful and destructive as the music that bellows from his guitar and make it follow his every command to create something as beautiful and flowing as an early morning dew drop making its way to the fresh soil that pillows beneath. He is able to take his audience through breath taking experiences, coaxing them into believing that he will lose control of this powerful force at any minute, only to see him string together near death sounds that come together like a wonderfully choreographed ballet. If you are lucky enough to witness the phenomenon that sometimes occurs when Buller decides to add to the vocals, sometimes even leading them, consider it the coup de gras, but trust that you have been done in by one of the best.
Chad Townsend- Known in many circles as the GQ timekeeper, Townsend is a myriad of talents. The great Gene Siskel is once quoted as saying when asked to describe the image that Townsend displays on some of the quicker paced songs that the band delivers “Chadwick appears to resemble an octopus falling out of a tree, there are limbs everywhere.” Siskel then followed that quote with “pun intended”. That Gene Siskel was a cheeky bastard, but I digress. Townsend has the claim of fame for being the iconic idea behind the idea for Rolex. After only a short interview, the fine gentlemen at Rolex soon realized that Townsend is the epitome of a classy time piece and decided they should never surrender in the pursuit of excellence in time keeping. The previous is only one of the many realizations that he has spawned over the course of his enlightening musical career. Often being accused of having extra appendages, it is truly a testament to the musical Gods that such a rhythmic sound can be produced by a man granted only the standard number of extremities. Despite several requests, the band has constantly rejected my idea of a revolving stage, for it is my belief that every band member deserves his share of time in the forefront of the viewers eye, this man in particular commands it. He often has a plethora of eyes seeking him amidst the pageantry that he resides behind. Deservedly so, deservedly so.
Todd Williams-He is what the author refers to as "Calm Chaos". Always assuming the power stance with his wiry frame, his digits dance along his keyboard like a Russian ballerina wearing cottenelle shoes tip-toeing on clouds of marshmallows. Like a fine merlot, Williams is enjoyed by all that experience him, but only truly appreciated by those with the most refined pallette. A wonderful addition to the band, he takes the phenomenon to a whole new level. If the band were Super Mario, Williams would without a doubt be Mario's ability to fly with the racoon suit. The band would be great without him, but I wouldn't want to even think about it. I like to think of him as the Samson of electronic ivories. If I am correct and his power resides in his lustrous locks, consider wearing a kickboxing helmet to their next show, for you will face a barrage of blows that would weaken the knees of any man.
