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Time moves slowly, if at all, in urban-Appalachian Cabbagetown. Across the street from a tiny Baptist Church under the stacks of the old Fulton Bag Mill, Smoke are teaching themselves new songs.

The quintet doesn't usually practice the older tunes, but they take a moment to indulge by digging up "Dirt," a perfect example of their sound-without-brand-name. The somber blues that Smoke creates -- from Siberian sambas to state fair freakouts -- is arresting in every sense of the word.

The music of the depressed and dispossessed rarely draws throngs of admirers. Yet Smoke tends to pack the venues in which they serve their eloquent time. With the release of their second record Another Reason To Fast, they attempt to meet the lingering anticipation of their growing following intrigued by 1994's Heaven on a Popsicle Stick.

All but one of the band members live in Cabbagetown, the perfect environment for this troupe. Much like Smoke, the dilapidated Atlanta neighborhood holds a colorful mix of folks, historical importance, and a vaguely promising future. From the original cast of characters when Smoke formed in 1992, only vocalist Benjamin and cellist Brian Halloran (both ex-Opal Foxx Quartet) remain. But Bill Taft (ex-Jody Grind), who plays banjo and cornet, joined the band shortly thereafter. More recently, guitarist Coleman Lewis (Grand Fury) and drummer Tim Campion (ex-Insane Jane, ex-Blood Poets) have stepped in, while Dana Trotsky occasionally accompanies on clarinet.

Although they use the tag team approach to songwriting ("like championship wrestling!" exclaims Taft), the band is undeniably led by Benjamin. Without him, the Smoke will clear. Benjamin, who has a home at the moment, says he's leading "a more full life than ever before." Moments later, he recalls hearing Patti Smith's "Kimberly" at 16. "I can remember the day, the minute," when music emerged from the background and, enthusiastically, into the foreground of his life.

Your 'typical' Southern-raised pill-popping homosexual/drag queen, Benjamin has paid his performing dues in this town by way of such 1980's noise and punk outfits as Medicine Suite and Freedom Puff. Years ago, Benjamin told Lowlife Magazine that the experimental, exhibitionistic Medicine Suite was his way of saying "Hey Atlanta industrial bullshit scene, let's see how cool you really are! Let's see how much culture and art you can take, let's see how much dick and sex and piss you can take." But, with Debbey Richardson (ex-Magic Bone) on guitar and Benjamin on bass, Freedom Puff reverted to the simple, comparatively wholesome joys of (sorta) punk rock.

As for the 90s, Benjamin is perhaps better known to some as Ms. Opal Foxx, frontperson for the legendary "quartet" that often featured over a dozen members. Regardless of garb or genre, he is always in character. Over the years, his unmistakable low-end grumble has resembled the roar of a wounded lion, a French intellectual in the gutter, a confused Southern outsider, a forsaken soulmate of Hank Williams, or (the inevitable reference) a Georgia-bred Tom Waits.

Remarkably, Smoke blends luxuriant pop with atonality with a Blue Ridge flavor.
Something in its chemistry makes the band as comfortable at the High Museum of Art or a swanky New York gallery as at the seedy Clermont Lounge or a burnt out carriage house in Rome, GA.

It's in the instrumentation, too. Taft's cornet, for example, a shorter, fatter, less shrill trumpet, refines the Smoke sound while his occasional banjo brings it back to earth. Halloran's vivid cello enriches the combo. Apparently, violins and cellos are proliferating in pop music. With amusement, Taft notes his conversation with a DC booking agent who informed him that strings are "really cool; the string thing is just really big now." One of the original three "plink plank plunk" brothers, as one Athens critic referred to them, with Taft and Todd Butler (Smoke's first guitarist), Halloran's cello is more foundation than trendy window dressing. On Another Reason To Fast, the mix caters to the mid-range, presenting Halloran's cello more prominently than 1994's Heaven On A Popsicle Stick CD.

The new album was recorded in Athens by Sugar/Buzzhungry guy David Barbe, "a genius maniac freak" of a recording engineer, Benjamin applauds. This batch of songs features such highlights as the resurrected Opal Foxx classic "Clean White Bed," and "Friends," a melancholy tune that has little to do with the hit TV show. But the disc also carries a subtle new direction away from Smoke's original sparse ballads of pain. These are the songs that Benjamin has taken to sarcastically introducing as their "new wave" tunes.
Campion and Lewis are behind these energetic pieces. Whereas Todd Butler maintained an acoustic presence, Lewis adds a Gibson electric. On the first single "Shadow Box," he takes center stage alongside Campion's impossibly funky beat.

"I was terrified when Tim came because I was afraid that it would suck. Instead, it was twenty times better than it had been," Benjamin recollects of the addition of Campion's meticulous, perfectly pressurized drumming. Far from jumbling the ensemble, Campion's stripped down kit fits in seamlessly.

More so than any other Atlanta act, the comfortable Smoke vibe is made for commiserating. But not everyone can fathom the beauty Benjamin somehow culls from the despair and pain of a self-described addictive personality.

He has a handful of heroes: Tracy Terrill (the reclusive songwriter also known as Cake), Debbey Richardson, Dana Kletter (Black Girls), Vic Chesnutt, and Nina Simone. According to Campion, Smoke's songwriting is what distinguishes it from previous bands, especially the beloved spectacle of the Opal Foxx Quartet. "After two years of fucking kicking ass and having a great time,we could finally hear what we were doing (with Smoke)," adds Benjamin of the transition. Indeed, the modern day Smoke relies less on depravity and more on the crafting of songs. As only Benjamin could get away with singing the words he sings, the band is getting away with making music that only this collection could possibly conjure.

Perhaps referring to the fact that all music lovers - everyone - can enjoy the common denominator of his pensive, lyrical sufferings, Benjamin delivers Smoke's musical bottom line wryly: "No matter where you are, people know good stuff. People go, 'Uh-huh, something my body needs anyway.'"

by Thomas Peake, 11/95

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"Benjamin was the chosen name of the lead singer of the band, Smoke, based in the Atlanta neighborhood known as Cabbagetown. The band (cello, trumpet, drums, banjo and electric guitar) played a wild Southern mix of country, blues, jazz, and punk, backing a singer whose drag-queen background, utterly honest storytelling, and visceral approach to life and music both cemented the band's fame and guaranteed its limits. While Smoke was frequently cited as one of the best local bands in the Atlanta area, Benjamin's extraordinary persona, his utterly uncompromising performances, and his HIV status created a mixture too volatile for the mainstream and the record industry. Smoke's roots in the Atlanta music underground go back to the early days when outsider cultures of drag performance, New Wave, Punk and Disco fermented and collided. When Benjamin's cohorts, including the now famous Rupaul, went off to forge their fortunes in the New York drag scene, Benjamin stayed behind to front a series of unheralded, radical, underground bands whose members ranged from unknown Georgia dykes to the "redneck poet." - Deacon Lunchbox

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"Hank Aaron" [written by Dana Kletter] - clip from the film, "Benjamin Smoke"

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The documentary from Jem Cohen and Peter Sillen (click to buy)....

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