You might recognize James "Scarecrow" Jenkins as the former bull fiddler of Lake Worth's punkabilly band Viva Le Vox, but you also might recognize him because he's got a lotta look. Nowadays, Jenkins heads his own outfit, Loxahatchee Sinners Union, a rootsy Americana act that came about by accident. In an attempt to set out on his own, he ended up bringing in too good a cast of backup musicians for a performance. Thus, the band was born. He calls the sound "swamp gospel." With him at the helm, singing with the charisma and enthusiasm of a preacher, it's hard not to hear what he means. As a singer, he knows exactly how to manage his vocals, creating an emotional plane, complementing the jangle of the banjo and the wail of the accordion with either excited exuberance or with the haunting howl and growl of a campfire storyteller.

From the magical, otherworldly sounds created by Astrea Corporation's Mike Astrea and Sandor Davidson arises the strange, mystical, and powerful vocals of Carly Astrea. Her look is majestic. She's always dressed to kill and crowned with great, big, loose curls. She's the siren to their song. Astrea's voice is often compared to that of Beth Gibbons of Portishead, the trip-hop goddess. Astrea says of first joining the act, which was already in place, that her partner Mike caught her randomly harmonizing with the sounds he made. "Whatever rolled into my head began rolling off my tongue," she says. "Shortly after this, I began laying down vocals for tracks and performing with the group, which ultimately led to me becoming a member of  Astrea Corp." And we're glad she did.

Dooms de Pop is what you might call a new kind of rock band. Its music sounds familiar, but it's a whole 'nother animal creeping around, banging up the menagerie. It's like mainstream power pop and heavy rock with tasty touches of Flaming Lips and They Might Be Giants. Garo Gallo, who leads the act, is also founder of the Bubble, the Independent Working Artist Network concept facility located in Fort Lauderdale. "I'm just paying homage to the pop bands that I've loved my whole life and trying to re-create that feeling of comfort and nostalgia," he says. "But as soon as you get as comfortable as you're going to be, I like to take a left turn and take you somewhere you didn't expect and make that comfortable too." Gallo's band mates are musical veterans, and all take part in the creative process. There's Darryl Bonebrake on drums and Brady Newbill on bass. They have yet to release their LP Ticker, but no worries; it's definitely on the way.

If you wolfed down a handful of mushrooms and then sort of sat in the sun for too long without drinking water, what might appear before you in all of its glory is the two-man act Tumbleweave. These trippy mammajammas take our crazed, otherworldly hallucinations and actualize them onstage. Dressed in what is part Hershey kiss, part metallic Snork, Matt Cutler and Ben Mendelewicz bring performance and sound to the next level, the outer-space level. While costumes make them 100 percent fascinating and their unusual body movements 100 percent fabulous, the sounds from their synths, live drums, and even the ear-grinding feedback make their stage show some next-level shit that is best consumed live.

The term slacker has been hurled at tie-dye-wearing, Grateful Dead-loving folks for the past half century. No description, though, could be less true of Brotherly Love Productions, the most important force in the growing jam-band scene in South Florida. BLP organizes regular and sporadic events that bring together bands from South Florida and beyond with the dancing folks who love them. The comprehensive weekly e-newsletter that the group sends out is highly recommended for anyone looking to share in the groove.

The smell of the swamp, the slick of sawgrass, the chomp of the alligator. That's the kind of authentic South Florida shit you experience with Boise Bob and His Backyard Band. Their songs take a humorous approach to country music. He talks about eating 'possum and getting shitfaced at a bar he loves more than he loves you. The act isn't made up just of Boise Bob — his Backyard Band includes a host of musicians jamming on backwoods instruments you'll rarely see around these parts. There's an electric washboard, a washtub bass, a harp, a banjo, kick drum, slide guitar, fiddle, mandolin, and, whew, the occasional pig and bird sounds. Boise Bob is a longtime Broward County resident whose music represents this swampy cityscape like no other. And damn, can these guys deliver some motherfuckin', fun-timesy, country-twanged dance songs, perfectly suited for anyone who knows the feel of the hot Florida sun on their backs and of gators nipping at their ass.

With a name like Chrome Dick, you might think this guy'd be spitting rhymes about his genitals and how strong and shiny they are. But Chrome Dick is actually Raphael Alvarez, a musician who's been involved for years in popular Broward bands like .ihatejulie, Traded to Racine, Harvey and the Buckets, and now Suede Dudes. As Chrome Dick, though, pop leaves the room and noise enters. His EP Portal Between Heaven and Hell actually sounds like the space between the celestial and the satanic. There's nothing regular about Chrome Dick's sound. He creates haunting soundscapes and abrasive soundtracks simply with pedals, guitars, and a mic. Inspired by books on noise and experimental acts like Throbbing Gristle, in 2008, this musician became an experimental musician and a performance artist. Noise is more than just creating a cacophony of disruptive sounds; for Alvarez, it's about emotion, concept, and intellect.

Robb Bank$ has a serious gold grill and looks as young as 15. But his sound is savage and his voice smooth. The music is trippy. It's like he's laying rhymes over ethereal experimental soundscapes. Robb Bank$ is likely to catch the eye and ear of the industry, and soon. This jit is half of the group Tuesday Thru Sunday with partner Matt Meyer Lansky. His mixtape Calendars marks his solo debut. The South Florida boy sings about everything, from Pokémon and oral sex to hipster girls and smoking pot. He just about has the male experience covered.

It has been several years since the utopian Deadhead night at Fisherman's Wharf on Pompano Pier went the way of Jerry Garcia when the bar/restaurant gave way to new ideas for "development." In the period since, South Florida heads have followed Crazy Fingers, the well-loved Grateful Dead tribute act, around to a few new Thursday-night spots. But none has felt quite as homey as the old Wharf used to, until now. With the jam-band scene in South Florida growing more energized, the landscape is prime for the weekly Deadhead night at Boca Muse, where Crazy Fingers throws down two sets for the patchouli-loving folks and straight-from-the-office, undercover heads alike. Crazy Fingers is as reliable as always these days, paying homage to the band that set so much good energy into motion while being faithful to their own groove at the same time. For now, SoFla heads have plenty of reason to be Grateful, at least once a week. Keep on truckin', Crazy Fingers.

Paper Chaser Committee, or PCC, began in 2003 as a clique only. It has since grown to a five-man crew, consisting of some recognizable names in the underground hip-hop scene in West Palm Beach. There's Cookem Up — the CEO — then a mix of rappers including Vandam Bodyslam, Mic Check, A.I., Breezy, and Moneyman. They came together in 2008 to take danceable beats and lay down hard-core lyrics over them, already putting out a few mixtapes and more than 30 YouTube videos. Their single "Club Scene" has been on heavy rotation on turntables around South Florida. This is a big leap since Mic Check first was simply making beats at home. PCC is still a group that feels like a family. Members stay true to one another even when their jams are blowing up stereos all over town. Hopefully, they'll remain tight even after stereos are blowing up with their sound all over the world.

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