As it is with so many fireballs of rock’n’roll (Prince, Little Richard, Jimi Hendrix, Alice Cooper, Kurt Cobain, Angus Young…), to meet Adam Weiner off stage is to meet a different person from the Adam Weiner on stage. He’s polite and earnest. He’s approachable but keeps largely to himself. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t shout or make a scene. But put him on stage, or in front of a camera, and it’s a different story.
Every week since March this year, Low Cut Connie’s piano-thumping mastermind has been singing, playing, gesticulating, sermonising and sweating profusely for an audience he can’t see. Often he’s stripped to his underwear by the end, writhing on the floor of his Philadelphia apartment like a man possessed. It’s like watching an evangelical church service led by the pale Jewish love child of Little Richard and Tina Turner.
“I’ve bombed more times than I’ve killed. I had to go through that to become the performer I wanted to be.”
Adam Weiner