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The Passion of Steverino Hayes

steverinohayes The Passion of Steverino Hayes

This entry is categorized under “Noise Consultations” because that’s where all the feature-based writing tends to end up. But the story of Steverino – who he is, how I met him, and how it is that this guy actually exists, probably deserves its own category. Nevertheless, I’d like to introduce you to Steve Hayes, who performs under the name “Steverino.” As foreshadowing to this story, it might be relevant to add that I made the graphic above from a picture Steve uses as the background on his website. The file is called “steverino4u.jpg,” for what it’s worth. This tale of indescribable weirdness is 100% true.

Steverino is a stalwart gentlemen, roughly Roman in proportion, and in his plainclothes motif is conventional in fashion and appearance. He’s probably in his 50s, if I had to guess, with sandy and graying hair, spotted wrinkles and crevasses in his face. His casual wear generally consists of Hawaiian shirts and cargo shorts. Just a dude, ya know.  I later found out he’s in some faction of the military. He has a flat tenor of a voice, sounding like a corn-fed laggard Midwestern boy, a product of growing up in parts of the country not intimately touched by the latest diffusion of innovations (or I have to assume). This explains a certain naivety or obliviousness that borders the pencil-thin line between endearing and obnoxious.

I first encountered Steverino in 2006. At the time, I was the promoter for The Dame in Lexington, Ky, a music venue that specialized in hosting indie rock, punk, alt country, and some hip-hop shows. On Monday nights, unless we had a national act coming in, The Dame would usually host an open mic night as a means to assuage the need to have some sort of music on a slower weeknight. Lots of white dudes playing shitty blues and acoustic covers was the usual fare.

The pervasive mood of stagnation and apathy was shattered one spring evening when Steverino came in to perform – and nothing was the same. This is not hyperbole – skies parted, food tasted differently, et al. Continue reading ‘The Passion of Steverino Hayes’

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