Just to add to Ms. Fensterstock’s assessment of the Happy Talk Band show at the Bingo Tent, it was one of the better shows I’ve seen. Everyone looked exhausted, drunk, crazed, or some combination thereof. Several musicians’ bags under their eyes had bags under their eyes. Yet they powered through singer/songwriter Luke Allen’s songs with a desperate intensity most befitting of the subjects of said songs. At a certain point I looked at guitarist Alex McMurray who had one of those looks on his faces and said to fellow OZ programmer the Boudin Cowboy, “Look out for McMurray. He’s either going to do the most amazing solo or bash some dude with his guitar.” Lo and behold McMurray 10 minutes later played his guitar with a ferocity of someone smashing the skulls of his worst enemy. And then there were the shirtless bearded guys in front wearing masks on the back of their heads drinking tall boy cans of Heineken dancing and singing to every word. Happy Talk Band groupies! Like most things in the Bingo Tent, it was in technicolor and then when you walked to the other stages they were in black and white. The whole show reminded me of the Royal Fingerbowl Jazzfest sets in the late 90s/early 00s when they started at 11:15 AM on the Sprint Stage and hadn’t slept the night before and you never knew what was going to happen. As the poem I am going to write about this set will go:
Confusion almost reigns
Nobody’s slept
Nobody’s sober
It’s 12:45 PM and
the fun
is just beginning
Alex McMurray led the Tin Men and his oddly popular Valparaiso men’s chorus through a rousing set of sea shanties that was possibly the most high-energy of any set at the Bingo! Parlour all weekend. (Funny, how he can deliver a line like “Boston, the land of the bean and the cod” with such sweaty conviction.) This iteration of the choir included Bad Off frontman Erik Corriveaux, klezmer wizard Jonathan Freilich, Happy Talk Band leader Luke Allen, actor Chris Lane in white tie and tails and Gambit contributor David Kunian. 
Quintron and Miss Pussycat continued a strong line-up in the Bingo! Parlour. The group kept up a funked up vibe with Mr. Quintron’s Drum Buddy in full function through new (Swamp Puppy Bad Ass) and old work. The strange world of self-reference even extended to likenesses of the Drum Buddy on Miss Pussycat and the extra maraca girl’s dresses. It was one of the Bingo! Parlor’s better shows.
Rolling Elvi plan their… rolling, beside a placid, sun-dappled lake. Last year at Voodoo I swore I would figure out a way to sneak in a kayak this year and I totally forgot. 
The Happy Talk Band started out the day with a freaked-out Velvets-style version of “Legalize Suicide” starring a hungover-looking Alex McMurray’s fuzzy, squealing guitar. After the song, a fan handed singer Luke Allen a full handle of Jameson’s Irish whiskey in thanks. (Mitch Palmer on pedal steel and Casey McAllister on keyboards also pictured.)
In its spiffy new big top tent, the Bingo! Palour has been one of Voodoo’s best and most improved attractions. Clint Maedgen had a good day with both his Clint + 9 project and here leading the Bingo! Show. The tent has also hosted big touring acts like Man Man, the Gutter Twins and Shudder to Think. But for a mix of music, debauched clowning and boho zeitgeist, the Parlour is well worth some time on Voodoo’s final day.
A small child dances (and then falls down) during the opening set from One Man Machine, with Mark Bingham on electric banjo. 
One of the most refreshing things about Voodoo is the extent of locally based booking - the Bingo Parlour and the Noomoon Stage both promise eclectic billing straight out of New Orleans, with acts culled from Crescent City cult favorites, local legends, bohemian celebrities and just plain weirdoes. This podcast introduces a few. Thanks to Ben Jaffe and the 