Who's Your Grandaddy?

From murderous, methed-up Modesto comes Grandaddy

Comments (0) By Jeff Stratton Thursday, May 15 2003

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A grill, Grandaddy, and thou

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At 6:30 p.m. Sunday, May 18. Call 561-832-7469.

Gosman Amphitheatre by the Kravis Center for the Performing Arts, 701 Okeechobee Blvd., West Palm Beach

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Bad feelings will no doubt fade once the Daddies dock the boat and prepare the grill for their traditional late-afternoon barbecue. In a business sense, Grandaddy's partnership with V2 Records is working out perfectly; Fairchild doesn't have to do anything but drink a beer on a boat, pose for a camera now and then, play music, and tour. The records sell or they don't, but that's of no concern to him. "I don't know shit about that stuff, and I don't want to know shit about that stuff," he says. "I guess everything is finally falling into place, but the alchemy that happens behind the scenes -- that I don't know anything about."

Fairchild won't let those worries bother him for long; Grandaddy doesn't live in the past either. Expect the band to concentrate almost exclusively on new songs during its current shows. Recently, while working up a set list with Lytle, Fairchild allowed his mind to wander until it eventually stumbled upon three Sophtware Slumptunes, all integral to the band's last tour. Discovering that "I had completely forgotten about them -- as songs -- at all," the skewed verses and weird faux-horn honks and lyrics about robots or crazy hair or humanoids slowly came back to him. "And I thought, 'Wow! Those are pretty good!'"