On Stage 5/18: No Big Deal
When Dennis Massengale and his friend, Paul Hatcher started BIG DEAL in 1994, the intention was to record the originals they were co-writing. Because of the vast cover band experience represented, BIG DEAL became a staple at Chattanooga clubs. An Atlanta agent heard the band and shows followed in that city, New Orleans, Huntsville, Athens and across the Southeast.
Please welcome Chattanooga’s own NO BIG DEAL to the EPB Stage this Sunday, to round out a 100% Local Music afternoon at the Chattanooga Market.






“Upon first listen to the New Binkley Brothers, my immediate thought was ‘There is indeed still hope for country music’. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about that canned crap coming out of Nashville nowadays (pop stars in cowboy hats). I’m talking about honest to goodness southern music which incorporates the gritty, shuffling fiddle of the famed North Georgia string bands of the 1920’s, the driving clawhammer banjo and the mountain harmonies that make your hair stand on end. These boys get it right. Hailing from Chattanooga, TN, this old-timey trio know just when to whoop it up, stomp and swerve out a fiddle tune, as well as break it down with old religious standards. In true southern fashion, these gents perfectly toe that line between saints and sinners; get down and get right and are as refreshing as cool corn liquor on a hot summers night.” –Leo Chancy TN Dept of Transformation

Everybody knows the stars at night are big and bright deep in the heart of Texas, and the celestial has always been proudly represented in Lone Star culture, be it bands (Explosions in the Sky), sports (Houston Astros) or the state nickname itself. Amy Cook also sees something unique up there, but the alt-folk singer-songwriter isn’t content simply marveling at the enormity of what lies beyond earth. On The Sky Observer’s Guide—written in a prolific four-week gush—she tells simple, bittersweet, earthbound stories, refracted through the panoramic scope of the heavens. Things like this happen when you leave the industrial clamor of L.A. for a humble, weirdly-named West Texas town like Marfa.





