The Kernal is running late. Real late. The old church bus that gets the band from gig to gig had engine trouble and then a flat tire, leading to the guys limping into the venue a short while before Jordan Foley and The Wheelhouse takes the stage.
The garage door is open at Tuffy’s Music Box in Sanford, FL. It is a gorgeous Florida winter’s night. Jeans and rolled up sleeves weather. The kind of evening that reminds one why we choose to live in this wild swamp.
Foley and his band* take the stage to a crowded, rowdy room. These are the days of plague, yet it feels safe here. Well-attended but not packed. Folks having fun but mindful of each other.
The gamut of Sanford, Florida’s slice of America is in attendance. A country girl boot scootin’ in a Daytona t-shirt. A couple of old hippies. Some young sorority girls just out of college. A smattering of aging hipsters.
Foley and the boys kick off the night with an ass-shaking, foot-stomping set. Smiles exploding around the room. The band adding their contributions to his growing catalog of evolving songs.
This does not feel like an opening set. Not a scene-stealer - hell, one would have to be engaged in intricate sabotage to steal from The Kernal - but a performance worth the price of admission on its own.
Earlier in the night, Foley was talking about these songs with The Marinade. He gives such deference to them as being their own entities and to his band’s ability to make the tunes something special. All of that is true, but Foley’s sincerity in his love of these people, these characters, these moments, deserves the most credit for driving the live Wheelhouse experience.
By the end of Jordan Foley and The Wheelhouse’s set, the crowd is enjoying a solid buzz, both alcohol and music induced. Some folks have been devouring The Kernal’s Listen to the Blood record since its recent release. Others have no idea what to make of this quirky looking foursome.
The Kernal is hard to miss. Well over six feet tall. Slicked back hair. Lightbulb eyes with a hint of mischief in them. He strides like a stallion, taking five steps to every one of a normal person.
The buzz in the room simmers awaiting what The Kernal has in store. They open with “U Do U,” the first track on Listen to the Blood. It’s the song with the unmistakable crowd-favorite line, “When the only Chic-fil-a back in the day was in the mall.”
Folks here for The Kernal shuffle forward. Most are thirty or forty-somethings who grew up on 90s and classic country, maybe went through a punk phase, and know every word to Master P’s “Bourbons & Lacs.”
We are alone in singing along but have plenty of company feeling the music. The Kernal is controlled chaos. If Kern and his band are feeling an impact from the trying trip here, no one in this room would know it. His verbose, layered tunes finding universal acclaim in a group of folks who came here open to the idea of being transported.
Sent to tales of therapy in the country and “Wrong Turns to Tupelo.” By the end of the fifth song, when The Kern himself opens up the floor for questions, he has brought any strangers in the audience to the flock of believers.
The Kernal is known for his performances and this night shows how that reputation was earned. Unpredictable but professional. Heady yet focused on having a good time.
From the first note of Jordan Foley and The Wheelhouse through the airy energy of The Kernal, Tuffy’s Music Box was aflame with the good medicine of great performances.
*Jordan Foley and The Wheelhouse is: Jordan Foley, Tyler Hood, Cris Faustmann, Mikey Guzman, and Matt Wassum