Vini and the DemonsCreated: February 03, 2000
BY AMY AUMICK
Jazz would be an empty house without the blues.—Whitney Balliett
The lights are flashing off and on at Common Grounds Coffeehouse. Brooms are falling over. Windows are crashing through and the police have the building surrounded. No, it is not Y2K, not the ending of a millennium, but the beginning of a whole new era. The members of a new blues band in Gainesville seem to face danger at every corner since they started playing together a few months ago.
The week I saw Vini and the Demons play was the anniversary of blues legend Duster Bennett's passing. Was Duster there that night? The hairs that raised on the back of my neck when one of his songs was played and the chaos that ensued around the band whispers, Yes. Yes. I still live. In this moment, and in the lives of these five men on-stage..
They live in a world of their own. Put together five guys, some instruments and a pact with the devil and you get a musical experience that spans the whole of American history. But we're not just talking about any five guys, we're talking about Vini and the Demons. And we're not talking about just five instruments, we're talking about a repertoire of sounds that encompasses America's classical music — the blues.
The myth behind the music is as compelling as the music itself. Who are these "Demons"? And who—or what—is Vini? Is he some ringleader who has come to lead the lambs of God astray with the 'devil's music?
The Demon brothers are Vini, Skibo, Tom, Joe, and Evil Evan. Vini is one hell of a front-man who sings and plays inspired by Muddy Waters. Like Waters, Vini Demon sits in a chair on-stage because of an accident in the past that was supposed to tie him to a wheelchair. Heroically, like the blues artists of the past, Vini has overcome this obstacle and walks. No he doesn't walk on water, but when he plays with his brothers, it seems as if he can. Playing the blues has kept him strong.
Skibo is a veteran to the Gainesville music arena. He has been playing on the frontlines and behind the scenes for nearly 14 years, and his talents are just as numerous. From guitar to blues harp to bones, Skibo's phantom-like presence cements the Demons' gritty blues sound. About this group of brothers he says, "I have been waiting all of my life for people like this. We are covering the entire blues gambit, bringing it back and into the next millennium."
While it's true that the blues seem to be lost in the flashy business of modern rock, it's nice to know that there are musicians dedicated to preserving the history. Says Joe Demon (very passionately), "Yes, we play the devil's music. The blues came out of an era of blood and suffering. Men bled for this music, they died for the message that we are all one. We are all the same."
Joe sings most of the songs during the set with an ethereal quality. Truly it seems that the ghost of the old blues legend Robert Johnson, to whom the band attributes most of their inspiration to, is back. He possesses this young man's body and creeps into his soul to wail out his suffering in a most beastly manner.
Tom Miller Demon is best known for his literary talents, but the calling to play the blues with the Demons proves that he is not one of those artists that is locked inside of his virtuoso. In fact, this "calling" is how all of the Demons interpret their passion. "It's like this," says Tom, "people are locked inside their tunnels. They get up, go to work, come home, watch TV, and sleep. And then they get up in the morning to do it all over again. Playing the blues is about the interpretation of real life, and if you're willing you can let it in."
The quietest member of the group is Evil Evan Demon, but he is also the backbone of the Demons' sound. Evil Evan spent the majority of his music career playing jazz drums. Now, in playing with the Demons he has learned to slow down a bit and focus on the fine art of balance. This may be Vini's brainchild, he says, but the tradition of the blues is what makes the Demons live on.
As simple as it seems, the sounds of the blues are actually complex interpretations of the human condition. So while buses come hurling toward them, and the ghosts of the past mess with their electric's, Vini and the Demons persevere. Of course, they are taking precautions. Because if Robert Johnson truly did sell his soul to the Devil at the crossroads to play like that, then he is alive and well in the spirit of any musician who plays his song. And so is Duster Bennett, and Elmore James, and Charlie Patton.
And we who love the blues say "Thank You."
-- MOON MAGAZINE