Casco Bay Weekly
March - 8 - 01

PORTLAND
PROWLER

by Chris Busby

Fears of a clown

Let's face it: Clown school isn't for everyone. Students who think studying such a jovial art will be child's play are often shocked by the dangers this grueling form of higher education entails. Take pie throwing, for instance. For every pie a student throws, another student must receive said confection in the face, and since they're still in training, there's no guarantee the pie will arrive soft-side first.

Balloon-Animal Construction 101 is a notoriously hazardous class most clown schools consider a requisite course for graduation. Even if students are able to overcome their deep childhood fear of popping balloons, the damage balloon shrapnel inflicts after repeated explosions often makes heavy makeup a necessity, rather than an option.

And who can forget the controversy that erupted last year when a student-clown car, packed with over 40 freshman fools, flipped over on the New Jersey Turnpike, sending several harlequins to the hospital? Surgeons were unable to remove a big floppy shoe from one student's posterior, and a lawsuit is pending.

Similar considerations prompted would-be jesters Moische and Cranky to become the Clown School Dropouts, a duo whose cartoonish jazz can be heard the first Sunday of the month at Free Street Taverna, among other places.

"I couldn't throw a pie straight," explained Moische, a drummer who's augmented his set with a wondrous variety of toys, horns and gizmos that whir, squeak and honk throughout the pair's performances. Moische's identity is something of a mystery, though given that the two people in Portland who've never been seen in the same room with him are King Memphis drummer Mike Dank and Portland Press Herald columnist Bill Nemitz, the mystery may soon be solved.

Cranky's identity is also a matter of some debate. The fact the saxophonist's arrival on the scene a year ago loosely coincided with the end of former WMPG DJ and Shutdown 66 sax-man Frank Turek's show, "My Vinyl Recliner," and Old Port landlord Joe Soley's decision to dye his hair, has led many to suspect Cranky could be either of them.

The pair walks what Cranky considers a "fine line" between being clowns and musicians who just dress funny. Wearing makeup and a wig "would be going too far," Cranky said. "We try to bring our own elements from the perverse side of the concept. [We're] sort of clowns for adults, what clowns do on their day off."

"We don't want to piss off the clowns," Moische said. "I think clowns are extremely frightening."

"That was the basic premise when we started out -- clowns are scary," said Cranky. "Let's put some music around that."

The music the pair concocted draws heavily from klezmer, old-time jazz and the cartoonish compositions of Carl Stalling, Raymond Scott and others. The Dropouts play a mix of originals with such oddball titles as "The Three Legged Camel," "Sinister Sleazebag" and "Deal Behind Tent #3" and covers such as Scott's "Arabian House Party" and "Girlfriend of the Whirling Dervish," a song popularized by the Hoosier Hot Shots.

The duo performs in the vaudeville tradition -- every element of the performance entertains. On a recent Sunday, the pair sported black bowler hats, loud plaid shirts and jackets and, in Cranky's case, bright, green trousers and mismatched sneakers. They encouraged audience members to adopt a clown name (or dropout name, if they preferred), which participants wrote on name tags and wore during the two-hour show. At intermission, the pair provided pre-blown balloons and encouraged the audience to make balloon animals or, in my case, a balloon representation of DNA that was striking in its simplicity.

Importantly, such shenanigans never detracted from the music itself, which was well played, catchy and full of amusing surprises. Cranky and Moische are both accomplished players who can groove and swing through their quirky tunes while punctuating them with funny noises from their toy/instrument contraptions without missing a beat.

On their final number, "Moische's Mood," Cranky added percussion by stepping on the audience's balloon animals and dragging a chair, atop which sat the donation box for Project Rescue -- the Dropouts' fund to "save hapless souls from the pain and humiliation of clown school" -- to the center of the room with his foot.

The next time the Dropouts play, please give generously to Project Rescue -- a pie pan is a terrible thing to taste.

CBW

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