Man, film is everywhere in rock nowadays, and why not? The line between music and video and stardom has been blurred by the camera over the last 10 years or so. Fortunately, Charlotte has a number of bands that understand the visual medium rather well -- see Pyramid, Bellglide, The Interstellars -- as well as a band named Filmschool, so we ought to be all right. Friday, Bellglide, Pyramid, and Hardcore Lounge played a set at the Visulite Theatre, whose spacy confines and video screen make this a perfect multimedia venue. When I was walking in, I noticed the "d" in Bellglide on the marquee had glided to the right of the "e," rendering the band "Bellglied," a name that sounds like the capital of some fledgling European country. Pyramid were first up, and, in keeping with their film school background, played along with images projected on the wall at the back of the stage. Bellglide were up next, and didn't use film as much as they did colored lighting, which cast neat monolithic shadows. Bellglide vocalist Slappy was attired in an outfit usually not associated with a name like hers -- fishnet stockings, a short red slip dress, and heels. Fortunately for Slappy, the stage was set up at an angle, with the keyboards somewhat perpendicular to the stage front. Every now and then, the band would launch into a quick-tempoed number, and Her Slappiness would jump high into the air before Pete Townshending a big power chord, a huge Attack of the 50-foot Woman shadow on the wall.

The multimedia move seems to be gaining ground, and for a good reason -- it's like a big trippy television to watch for those who just want to hear some good music while drinking and doing drugs with their friends. And, as comedian Doug Stanhope has noted, nothing draws in a drunk like a muted television in a bar.

Did I say Doug Stanhope? I did? The Segue Gods must have smiled upon me. Later Friday night (Saturday morning?) I attended a 1am comedy show at the Perch Theatre, headlined by none other than Doug Stanhope. Stanhope, as you may know, is signed to the late Bill Hicks' comedy company, Sacred Cow, and is set to co-host version 2.0 of The Man Show when it comes out later this year. Stanhope, it should be said, is not a woman basher -- he's a hypocrisy basher, and I was psyched to see him. After an opening set by the Perch's Quay Rogers -- and one other guy I can't remember because people didn't rag on him all night like they did Rogers -- Stanhope took the stage. The Perch band began playing some good "ol porno-style instrumental music, heavy on the wah-wah pedal. Stanhope began his act, and, if you know anything about the guy, the porn music was a nice touch. Stanhope was soon almost three minutes into his bit, and the music was still going strong. It was like someone forgot to turn down the house music before the show. Soon, however, both comedian and band started working together, and the synching became inspired, like that time Jack Kerouac read from On The Road while tightass Steve Allen played piano.

Before long, it was well after 2am, and folks were down to the last of their adult beverages, including Stanhope, who, after stumbling, looked for his train of thought. "Maybe it's in here," he said, eyeing the bottle. "What should I talk about?" he asked. "Talk about how The Man Show is sexist towards women," a Perch regular shouted. "Not yet it ain't," replied Stanhope with a grin, who then launched into a bit more reminiscent of his usual terrain -- his wife's recent abortion. (See how a pall came over this column? It was much the same way at the Perch, except for myself and two or three other folks who snickered all the way through the bit. Our senses of humor are either very well-developed or rather sick.) Stanhope then brightened everyone up by talking about the impending war (paraphrased here). ""America -- love it or leave it.' You hear that everywhere. But they're hypocrites. John Walker Lindh, the American Taliban, did just that. He didn't love it, so he left it! And what do they do? They arrest him over there in Afghanistan and give him all kinds of hell. Make up your mind!"