This blog originally posted on blogspot.blackjakeandthecarnies.com

If you happen to tune in to the greatest sporting event of the year, the Nathan's 4th of July Hot Dog Eating Contest, you will likely see my brother, Patrick "Deep Dish" Bertoletti competing.  Deep Dish normally sports a mohawk and eats to the beat of Flogging Molly or Dillinger Four.  This year he will be sporting a Tony Clifton hairdo and costume.  He has finished in the top four in each of the past three years, and some are picking him to win this year.  He is the number two ranked eater in the world according to the IFOCE, and has beaten the great Kobayashi in other foods, but he has never taken the crown at Nathans.  This is the first time that we are not traveling to Coney Island to watch the contest so we will be cheering him on in someone's living room, watching on ESPN.

Last month, I had the opportunity to launch a competitive eating career of my own when I competed in a fried calamari contest at Mallie's bar and grill in Southgate, MI.  I entered as 'Thin crust', and claimed that I taught my brother how to eat with his hands and that I was going to take back the glory that was rightfully mine.  I did a little bit of training, and my goal was to talk some trash, have fun, and look good while I was eating.  I didn't want to look green around the gills as is often the case with amateur eaters during their first contest, and I certainly didn't want to shame myself and my family with a reversal on stage.  I succeeded in all of these and managed to put down one and two-thirds pounds of fried calamari.  I was hoping to do about two pounds, but I drank about two quarts of water trying to get the calamari down, and filled up my stomach.  It was actually pretty tasty at first, but by the end, it tasted like breaded rubber bands.  Patrick won the competition by eating nearly seven pounds!!  I had a blast competing with my brother and the other professionals, but I knew about halfway through the 10 minute contest that I probably wouldn't be entering future contests.  I officially retired about 45 minutes later during a  'private' moment, safely out of site in the back of Mallie's parking lot.

Though my competitive eating career was brief and lacking glory, I am glad to have had the experience.  My competitive eating dreams for the future are to be one of the opening acts for the Nathan's contest.  Each year, a few bands are invited to entertain the gathering crowd of thousands on Surf and Stillwell before the contest, and some day, I hope that it will be the Carnies.  So if you are reading this, George and Rich Shea, we are available on July 4, 2010...just give me a call.

- Cooter

Black Jake & the Carnies have started a blog at: blackjakeandthecarnies.blogspot.com/

If you visit, you will find random rants, political discussions (the Carnies represent a wide range of political views and perspectives), show reports, trash talking, and general useless information.  Please check it out and join in the fun.

Also, in addition to our show next Wednesday, July 8th at the Circus in Ann Arbor, Black Jake will be appearing on WEMU on Jeremy Baldwin's Roots Music Project to promote our upcoming Ark show (July 25th).  Black Jake will give a rare interview, perform a few songs, and maybe give away some merch.  The show starts at 12, and Jake is tentative schedules to be on the air from 12:30-1pm.  Check it out on July 11th at WEMU, 89.1 FM, Ypsilanti, MI.  You can also stream it at: wemu.org/listen.php

Zach informed us the other day that our album has been illegally downloaded 1258 times. Intrigued, I did a little research of my own and have reached a total closer to 2000 downloads in countries on every continent except Antarctica and Africa (leaving me to wonder, why does Africa hate the Carnies?).

Heh!, these guys have originated "crabgrass", a blend of bluegrass, Americana, and punk, and the appellation is as wry as the music, which never flags in snarky and theatric attitude amid great chops. Right off the bat, I was minded of
the Escape The Floodwater Jug Band, a shining example of taking a mode
and stretching the hell out of it until just the right eccentric housing is established. That way, not only is a great musical product wrought but a heck of a lot of fun to boot.

Under a very attractively packaged skull, crossbones, and banjo logo package, this CD is immediately cheering for its jig tempos and affected style, old West snake-oil stagey and infectious. Black Jake himself, the lead coyote, plays banjo, sings, wrote all the songs, and produced the entire schmear—a talented and busy guy! The gent's an exceedingly clever writer, his lyrics a pleasure to listen to and read (a sheet is included), graceful, witty, often darkly hilarious ironic tales of
human beings fucking around with other human beings.

The title song's a lurid tale of the vicious side of fairies and weird myth folk messing with innocent youth, to humanity's grief. Hunters' Moon details damnation as a werewolf, and A Happy Easter To Ya is anything but joyful. Behind all the madmen, liars, hypocrites, naives, and doomed souls, however, the band keeps up a sprightly pace, oft like a train hurtling down the tracks, with Black's ragged and urgent voice remonstrating and proclaiming. Songs like Crazy McCraedy's develop a genuinely wistful atmosphere populated with the kind of folk one would shudder at seeing in The X-Files and Sopranos.

Black Jake & The Carnies have issued a CD for those who want a bright new
wrinkle in the old tradition, a concoction both reverent and blasphemous, something to evoke a sparkle in the eye while evoking visions from Stephen King and Neil Gaiman. The recording is quite good as is—a very good home job, if my suspicions are correct—but deserving of even more: top drawer engineering with all the bells and whistles.  I'm not sure what to make of the "Special Black Jake thanks to Jesus" line in the credits, but I snorted when I read it. Lotsa fun and tons
of cool musicianship no matter how you look at it.

http://www.acousticmusic.com/fame/p05333.htm

Hey all,

Below are links and text for a few recent reviews and press articles.  My favorite quote is from the Muse's Muse:

"If you're a
bluegrass purist or a fan of Peter, Paul, and Mary folk music, you'll probably
hate Black Jake and The Carnies but I don't think they care. They are
having too much fun. If you like punk music and you like bluegrass and you have
an open mind, Black Jake and The Carnies will make you smile."

The Muse;s Muse


American UK


And, from the Ann Arbor Observer's January, 2009 Edition:

Black Jake & The Carnies: Dark Energy from old times

The application of punk energy to the textures and stories of old-time country music has given a jolt of life to both forms.  The idea breaks punk out of its self-referential box, connecting it to earlier kinds of physically forceful dancing, and it strips the old-time forms of their accretions of sentimentality and nostalgia.  Many bands have mined this lode over the last ten years or so, but Ypsilanti's Black Jake & the Carnies are taking the combination to some new extremes.  There's a movement afoot, with branches in both music and the visual arts, that draws on the rough outsider attraction of southern culture's old-time fringe, and the Carnies seem to be part of that.

They call their music "crabgrass," and in a world of catchy labels that one's no bad.  The eight-piece band includes the standard bluegrass quintet of banjo, fiddle, mandolin, guitar, and bass.  The musicians dress in old-fashioned black coats and ties, and they augment the plucked strings with other old-time sounds like a washboard and a saw.  As for the "crab" aspect, their original songs, when you can understand them - only in bits and pieces in live performances - are on the dark side, made up of murder tales and the like.  When I heard Black Jake & the Carnies at Ypsilanti's Elbow room recently, the music didn't feel much like bluegrass, and, as with punk at its best, the atmosphere was loud, communal, and affirming despite all the grim lyrics.  ringing it back in a bluegras direction though, was the clockwork ensemble playing. 

The songs didn't vary like the waltzes and blues and rags of bluegrass; one followed another with a similar hard-driving energy, with the fast two-four rhuthm that runs through old march-based music from polka to ragtime (from which it flowed into old-time country) to early jazz.  the songs stretch out for a while, and the band gradually involves the audience physicall and in an interaction that grows deeper both within individual songs and over the course of the band's set.  The musicians jump and move around the stage a good deal, and they throw foam rubber balls into the crowd. 

the dancers throw them back at the band, breaking up the usual push-toward-the-stage crush.  By the finale, a punked-out version of "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," some of them have liknked arms, and quite a few people are in high-speed motion around the floor.  Add in the rubber balls, and what you have is a crowd envoloped in a brilliantly generated high-energy dynamic.  Experience it for yourself, perhapse in a more subdued folk-club version, when Black Jake & the Carnies play the Ark on Tuesday, January 6. 
- James M. Manheim

Happy New Year friends!

Just one more reminder that we will kick off 2009 with a very special show next Tuesday at the famed Ark in Ann Arbor.  We will be playing all the old favorites as well as some new ones, have Carnie games and puppets, and have a special guest and new Carnies, and get this, you will actually be able to hear everything as the Ark has great acoustics and sound team. 

So come and join us for 2 sets at the Ark.  Also, its an all ages show that
will be done and have you home at a reasonable hour.

January 6, 2009 - 8pm (Doors at 7:30pm) - $15
The Ark - On Main Street, Downtown Ann Arbor

Finally, check out last months Ann Arbor Observer, this months Current Magazine, and this weeks Detroit Metro times for some press on the show.

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Black Jake and the Carnies

The Ark, Ann Arbor.

Ypsilanti's foot stompin', whiskey swillin' and banjo pluckin' "kings of crabgrass" celebrate the squalling, bloody birth of 2009 with one of their typically raucous live shows. Their backwoods-meets-concrete sound melds old-timey strings with fast-paced lyrics and a punk rock ethos (available for your listening pleasure on their debut Where the Heather Grows). Enjoy two sets of cautionary tales, murder ballads and rowdy reels, along with carnival games (they call themselves carnies, after all) at 8 p.m. at the Ark, 316 S. Main St., Ann Arbor; 734-761-1800; theark.org; $15.
FROM: http://metrotimes.com/calendar/default.asp

Another review, this one of a recent show, from the Jackson Citizen Patriot.  Thanks to Rochelle and Dave, and everyone else that made the event a success.

Art and wine enjoyed by all, unlike my T-shirt

Posted by Bill Chapin June 16, 2008 14:01PM

Categories: Out and about

Wine and punk-tinged folk music are two out of my three favorite things (the third being ice cream that involves chocolate and peanut butter), so it goes without saying that I really enjoyed the Art & Wine Festival on Saturday at the Ella Sharp Museum of Art and History. I wasn't able to get there until 4:30 p.m., but I got to spend two hours wandering around, enjoying samples of wine and the music of Black Jake and the Carnies.

My favorite part, however, was watching the crowd's reaction to Black Jake and the Carnies, who hail from Ypsilanti. Band leader Black Jake plays banjo, and for this show he was backed by five guys playing fiddle, mandolin, acoustic bass guitar, drums/washboard and saw/jug/limberjack/etc. They sang songs about poisoning rats and covered "Hot Child in the City." They bounced around on stage and gave the shocks on the Parks and Recreation Department's mobile stage quite a workout.

"Thanks for getting us a Moonwalk," one of the band members told the crowd at one point.

To be sure, there were a few folks who looked a little baffled as to why there was a group of guys dressed like undertakers playing hillbilly music while they were trying to sip their Chardonnay, but I think most people enjoyed it. Everyone from young children to senior citizens to museum Executive Director, Chris Gordy — himself no slouch on the mandolin, I'm told — shelled out $10 for a copy of the band's CD. Old-time music fans whooped and hollered, and women with tattoos covering their backs danced in the grass.

It was, in short, a wonderfully strange mix of high-brow and low-brow that appealed to my appreciation of the absurd and all-inclusiveness. It was, I think, a success for the museum.

Review by Steve Leggett

Black Jake & the Carnies are a curious octet out of Ypsilanti, MI who specialize in a kind of raucous acoustic Americana that tosses post modern Appalachian murder ballads, Irish drinking songs, skewed, twisted love songs and general cautionary tales into a stylistic blender that has them sounding like nothing so much as a maverick, hopped-up punk polka band in full 21st Century everything-fits jug band mode. The band itself calls what it does "crabgrass," but although the instrumentation (banjo, guitar, mandolin, acoustic bass etc.)suggests bluegrass, the approach is something else again, and the supplementary instruments, which include washboard, train whistle, jug and all manner of odd percussion toys, make the Carnies something closer to a manic jug and string band from the previous century. Then there are the songs, which sound old and ancient but aren't, and which sound upbeat and joyous, but aren't, detailing instead a world full of death, murders, killings and all manner of intentional and  unintentional mayhem. That the Carnies make all this go down like a Saturday night house party gone into overdrive is the real charm of  their debut album. The songs themselves are all of a piece and listening to the eerie but still strangely comforting "Hunter's Moon,"  the explosive "Paper Outlaw," the wild, fiddle-driven "Bone Man" and the truly epic ten-minute title track "Where the Heather Don't Grow" is a bit like stepping through the looking glass. Things seem normal,  but they decidedly aren't. Recorded by Jim Roll in his Ann Arbor living room, Where the Heather Don't Grow has an infectious and ragged  immediacy about it, and while some bizarre and twisted stories are flying by in the lyrics, it's all so vibrant and full tilt that one can't help but smile. Dark stories never played so bright.

We decided a while back that we'd take the entire month of July off from playing gigs, and we're stickin' to it.  We've had to turn down a lot of really great sounding gigs to stick to our promise.  The road has been long and hard, and seemingly more meaningless with every good gig that we turn down, to the point where we just don't know why we're doing it any more.  But by God, if we can't stick to the decision we made at some forgotten point in the past for whatever reasons we had at the time, then... everything would be really bad in ways so insideous that you wouldn't even notice.

So if you ask us to play in July, we'll turn you down.  Not because you're not hot, but because we're in a committed loving relationship with taking July off.  I swear, if you'd gotten to us sooner we'd be totally on board... or after July would work too.  Every analogy breaks down at some point.

Jake