Confessions of a Song and Dance Man: An Interview With Low Cut Connie's Adam Weiner (Part I)

Touring the glitter factory with Madonna in the bloodstream

Adam Weiner of Low Cut Connie (Photo by Shervin Lainez)

Remember that paleolithic adage, “the hardest working man in showbiz?” Anyone who’s witnessed a Low Cut Connie show knows what’s up, why it’s not ridiculous to trot it out in 2024. In the spirit of his Philly brethren Questlove, Adam Weiner can come off like something of a conduit that simultaneously connects great swaths of his rootsy musical universe together and reignites it.

I couldn’t personally name any other rock bands to emerge over the last decade that prominently feature piano, much less any this exhilarating, welcoming, sweat-soaked, self-aware, politically astute. I wouldn’t say everyone who’s primarily plugged into music via the nostalgia circuit is prepared for, say, the celebratory trans overtures of “Shake It Little Tina” or the pinkeye lament “Montreal,” or the screwball Buster Poindexter send-up “(No More) Wet T-Shirt Contests” that sneak up behind powerhouse Stone Pony scorchers like “Revolution Rock n Roll” (whose video, full disclosure, features my partner) or the Obama-approved “Boozophilia” (whose video, full disclosure, features me). So not only do they not make ‘em like this anymore, but with each passing year of Low Cut Connie’s unprecedented triumph, I increasingly doubt that they ever made them like this before.

As you probably guessed, Weiner is maybe my proudest conflict of interest. Attended my alma mater Cherry Hill High School East some six years before me, put me on for my band’s first-ever real shows (RIP, North Star Bar), and built up some of the 2010s’ biggest sans-Pitchfork word-of-mouth for a quality rock band this side of Knocked Loose. Low Cut Connie had already won the hearts of Bruce Springsteen, Elton John, and Barack Obama (not to mention a healthy bloc of Rolling Stone editors) before Weiner’s wildly uplifting livestream series-cum-variety show Tough Cookies won him the jaw-dropping and bittersweet honorific of “Pandemic Person of the Year” by The New Yorker in 2020. Made a bunch of great albums, too.

Last year’s typically knockout Art Dealers was quickly followed by an entertaining flick of the same name, part concert and part doc that gives equal weight to the vivacious personalities on and off the stage in Low Cut Connie’s current formation. No one should ever use the cliché “victory lap” unadvisedly but Art Dealers really feels like a party thrown by, y’know, the PPOTY, in honor of everyone being able to go outside and enjoy live performance again. The concert film as a celebration of (working-class) life. RIOTRIOT got on the horn with my friend for a lengthy and rewarding chat about what it’s like being so awesome and leading the best live band in the world.

My man. Daniel, how are you?

I'm getting over a cold. How are you?

‘Tis the season. I'm fine. Can you hear me all right?

Yeah. I can hear you.

Wonderful. Beautiful. Sultry. 

I’m hearing that we both just saw Madonna.

Oh yeah, well, I went up to New York. Did you see the Philly show?

Yeah, I went to the Philly one.

How did you like it?

Oh, it was the best thing I've ever seen. Was this your first time? It was mine.

Oh, no, I've seen her before. I thought it was fucking great. Look, it's Madonna. I'm such a fan that I even liked when she did the Madame X tour where she only played two songs that anyone knew, and talked for most of the show. All kinds of anti-Trump shit. I was in for all that.