Austin-based troubadour Red Hunter, who sings under the moniker Peter and the Wolf, channeled his inner Tom Waits last night at Lou’s Tavern, a neighborhood joint on the backstreets of Little Italy. Cleveland Institute of the Arts students and other assorted drunks filled the place to capacity. Folks had to sit on stairs, share chairs, and avoid a crazy drunk woman to hear his air-choked melodies. ...
The tiny location of this performance was similar to previous gigs Hunter, who has a striking resemblance to Jason Shwartzman, tends to accept. He’s played gigs in graveyards and abandoned busses.
So on a lonely, Monday night in Cleveland, he just walked into the place, set up his guitar and beat machine, and started to howl out some music.
Hunter’s voice is hard to peg down. It moves from the whisper-like softness of Nick Drake to the nasally overtones of Elvis Costello. It feels like a family movie from the 1960s, sun-bleached and grainy.
As the night progressed, he relaxed into an alcohol-induced state and produced sounds that resembled a faded photograph. They’re the same sounds that endear him to music critics like NPR’s Kathryn Yu, and the taste-snobs at pitchfork.
After he finished up his set, he slowly walked to the bar for another beer. He looked tired and sleepy and melancholy and drunk. He was totally present and completely absent, a singer-songwriter finished for the night. – Bradley Campbell