Clown Fights and Clam Songs - One Loud Month

Recently the Ozark-yodeler Nick Shoulders released his 5th album, Refugia Blues. Terrific record, very true to his unique sound, but tracks like “Dixie Be Damned” and “Tatum Spring” somehow feel timeless, old, and modern all at once.

I was able to attend a not-quite album release party on the day of the drop, Halloween 2025, at one of my favorite venues: the Grey Eagle in Asheville, NC. Opening for Shoulders was a Prine-esque young artist named Chris Acker, who flowed so easily between humor and heavier subjects, just like Prine and Shoulders tend to do.

Chris was amazing, and Nick and his crew absolutely blew my socks off. Seeing one of my favorite artists perform while dressed as “Slutty William Wallace” was not something I ever planned to witness, but boy am I thankful. Hearing those two standout songs live in such an intimate space was unforgettable.

Toward the end of the set, my bladder won a battle and I had to step out for a break. While I was out, I got the chance to speak with Acker for a moment. He is just as kind and friendly off stage as he seems on it. When I headed back in, I knew Nick only had a song left, so I decided to hang by the sound booth and wait for my boyfriend to meet me there after the show.

Well… my luck being what it is, two massive men broke into a full-on fist fight, one of them in full clown face paint. Despite my best efforts to sidestep the chaos, one of them got shoved straight into me. I have never been more thankful to see my man than the moment I felt myself getting dragged out of the scuffle and looked up to see his beard-clad face, immediately asking why I was in the middle of it. How the hell do I know?

We spent the rest of the weekend enjoying the beauties of WNC and celebrating our 8th anniversary. And then, only three days later, it was time for another show I had been eagerly waiting on for months: Viagra Boys.

They played at the Ritz in Raleigh. If you have never been, keep it that way. Since being bought out by LiveNation, it is probably the most hectic, echoing, least acoustically pleasant venue in the Triangle, though it still somehow attracts bigger acts. Normally, as someone who is 5'2", I go upstairs to watch the show from the railings, but there is now a $150 per person charge to go up there. So instead, I ended up right on the barrier. Front row at a show this size was brand-new territory for me.

Black Lips opened for VB, and I can honestly say I have never seen anything like them. Every member looked like they belonged to a different band in a different genre, but the stage antics kept the energy high and their punky vibe worked surprisingly well in a mid-size venue.

However, once VB took the stage, it was pure pandemonium. Dancing, jumping, pushing, moshing… all things I have somehow managed to avoid through years of metal shows, but apparently not during my Swedish rock experience. It was wild, but in the best way. Advice for my fellow vertically challenged folks: you have to get up front to see, but you had better get your shoulders ready to box people out. Still, it was worth every second. I even got to catch the keyboardist, Elias, as he launched himself into the crowd.

These two shows could not have been more different, but that contrast is exactly why I love music. It can take you from a mulleted mountaineer yodeling about the Southern soul to a tattooed Swede in a gnome hat screaming about harvesting clams in 10-degree weather, and both hit you in the chest in completely different ways. Music shapeshifts. It mirrors whatever you need in the moment: comfort, chaos, catharsis, or just a good story to tell later.

This week reminded me that I do not have to pick a lane. I can love all of it, and I do.