April 2006 Live Reviews

(scroll down to read all of them)

NAMM Convention
January 22,2006 @ the Anaheim Convention Center
By Charlotte Gordon

I don't ever remember seeing so many old men with long, tousled hair in strategically-ripped blue jeans. They passed in herds, hands in pockets with faces cloaked by shades, decidedly not amused by the fevered frenzy all around. There was a good amount of Japanese business men who passed by hurriedly, on cell phones and brandishing pocket planners as proof that they had somewhere to be. I stood for a moment in Hall C, Row 4700 to take it in, the all-encompassing musical orgy where amp cables entwine, bongos and double-bass clash, and different guitar stylings all mesh into one to create a fine white noise masking the useless chatter of people. Welcome to the NAMM show.

NAMM - Photo by Charlotte Gordon

So Anaheim nightlife has been jostled once again with the return of this instrument smorgasbord known as NAMM-a music-industry tradeshow featuring special guest appearances by up-and-coming musicians, as well as legends of rock. Taking place at the Anaheim Convention Center downtown, the event occupies three levels and showcases just about every instrument known to man, from electric accordions to seussian zithers to purple flying-V violins with menacing flame decals. But mostly, they display guitars, lots and lots of guitars...as well as some pretty gnarly drum equipment. It's all like community property, available for the fiendish paws of passholders to try out for the four-day run of the show. Ultimately, this privilege was abused. (My sincerest apologies to the fellows who patiently waited to use the guitar synth at the Boss booth.)

This phantasmagoria of custom guitars and shiny displays had been in Anaheim before but had a brief stint in L.A. while the Convention Center was being expanded into the big, beastly building that it is today. And so here I was, taking up a little square of space in Row 4700, battling a fit of agoraphobia while wondering where I should head first. I floated nervously along, holding out my weighty program for guidance like a divining rod, until I happened upon a man with a black devil lock defying his receding hairline and dividing the face into two symmetrical parts. It could only be Jerry Only from The Misfits. Perhaps he could direct me to the nearest newsworthy event? I contemplated the question as I held one of his signature fat, vinyl gloves, and, like the scene in A CHRISTMAS STORY where Ralphie meets Santa, my picture was taken, and I was whisked away before uttering a word. No time to ask about the new band line-up with Dez and Robo. But Mr. Only had given me a subtle push toward a sign that read "Dick Dale and Jimmy Dale at 2:00." My presence was definitely required. I had to see legendary surf guitarist Dick Dale, a man who played with Johnny Cash when he was still wearing baby blue suits. Not familiar with Dick Dale? You hear his awesome guitar stylings every time your musically-deprived self is being hurled through Space Mountain. Heck, the guy has stood on the top of Space Mountain, guitar in hand-without the use of a harness-to rock all of Disneyland. Yes, he is a bit bonkers, but his mind is sound enough to teach his dearest son of the importance of music. "There is beauty in all music," he tells his 14-year-old protogé (whose looks are a bit reminiscent of a young Elijah Wood). The boy is a musical wunderkind who not only shreds on guitar but is also a seasoned pro on the drums. (And he also happens to fly helicopters.) "Even in metal?" the prodigy child questioned his father, suspecting that beauty wasn't inherent in ALL music genres. But Jimmy was quickly reassured that the theory did apply to metal, as well. Dick swears the two must be sharing an invisible umbilical cord as they finish up an acoustic set of in one of NAMM's cozy soundproof demo rooms. "Sounds like one note," he says as the two let their guitars ring for the audience to fully understand. Beautiful. But another song from the dueling guitarists awaits the small and cramped crowd-"Miserlou"-you know, that kick-butt song the Black Eyed Peas sampled to remix into oblivion. Overall, an unbeatable set (though at times Dick wasn't as spot-on as Jimmy-which the latter had no qualms about pointing out when his dad botched a note or two). But do the two have an album out together? Dick assures us that it's in the works and bids us good day. And so I was catapulted out of the soundproof box to wonder aimlessly again, almost being bulldozed by Gene Simmons and his full entourage of cameras and overhead microphones, as his own son, dazed, followed behind. Apparently, filming has just begun for Gene's A&E real-life series titled GENE SIMMONS' FAMILY JEWELS. Nick Simmons will definitely turn out not to be a crazy-haired and rowdy Jack Osborne. For all the stalking I did, he seemed to be a quiet and reserved type.

As for feature products from the show: Fender's line of Hello Kitty guitars (fenderhellokitty.com) look pretty bad-ass. Hello Kitty herself even made a special guest appearance to promote the novelty instrument. As for the specs, the Hello Kitty Stratocaster comes in black or pink, with Hello Kitty's round, whiskered face forming the pick guard, allowing for only one little volume knob. Adorable. Too much testosterone for the kitty guitar? Well, there's always the Badtz-Maru Bronco Bass. There's no need for talent when you have a pick guard featuring that chock-full-of-attitude penguin face.

As for accessories, Elixir has perfected some phosphor bronze strings that weren't properly introduced before Larrivee snatched them up as the default for their new acoustic guitars. Their packaging looks surprisingly like a condom box. Must be inspired by all that extra protection that comes with coated strings. I also found a booth with some strange and foreign custom guitar picks that I couldn't quite figure out-so I let them be.

Although Krappy Guitars did not secure a booth this year, I'll feature them anyway, because no one can beat their mission statement: "Our instruments are built for frugal people who aren't very concerned with regard to quality, construction, materials, or safety." So you can just forget about that fancy new Masterbilt EF-500RCCE by Epiphone, with the solid rosewood back and cedar top. Think of that awesome two-string Krappy custom-shaped like a laptop computer. Brilliance. Krappy has also made guitars with built-in ashtrays and beer holders. Now, that's innovation.

I ventured on through the show, catching glimpses of Kerry King and Joe Satriani (whose oversized beanie made me mistake him for a toddler) as I weaved my way through B.C. Rich coffin cases, funky Longhorn Danelectros, and a really cool custom Vampira guitar. After all the loitering and booth-hopping, I was defeated, overpowered by rock, social anxiety, and a hankerin' for a veggie burger. The after-parties and private hotel concerts would have to wait until next year, but the essence of NAMM followed me home and lived on (disguised as a slight and pesky ringing in my ears).

To comment on this or any other review you see in SKRATCH, feel free to e-mail us at speakup@skratchmagazine.com.

Come Clarity Tour:
In Flames
Trivium
Devil Driver
Zao
January 28, 2006 @ the Wiltern LG (Los Angeles, CA)
By Thomas Hoevel

Since their formation in the early '90s, In Flames has been a musical powerhouse, producing deification-worthy death metal from the legendary town of Gothenburg. Though they've been receiving salvos of flak for their recent works, it still goes without saying that In Flames is one of the best metal bands still in existence. Tonight was proof of that.

It's well known that opening bands generally suck. However, the opener was metalcore legend Zao. After thanking everyone for coming out, Daniel broke into a Gossow-esque scream. Needless to say, plenty of eerie breakdowns and body spins ensued. At one point, Daniel dropped to his knees and thrusted up his left hand whilst unleashing a shrieked verse. But Zao's beautifully chaotic performance was just a taste of the mayhem that was to come.

Zao

Devil Driver's performance can be described in three words: storm of hair. I've never seen so much hair being flung around in my life. From the first song, "End of the Line", it was constant circle-banging from the guitarists; and if the bassist had hair, I bet he'd be swirling his noggin, as well. Though the seemingly endless amount of headbanging became tiresome, Devil Driver's performance was just as good-if not better-than Zao's. John Boecklin's drum work was flawless, as he pounded away in his signature "beat the hell outta everything" style. Near the end of the end of their set, it became apparent that the pit contained very little movement. I've seen more action while watching the L.A. Philharmonic. As Devil Driver prepared to end with "Meet the Wretched", Dez's voice took on a tone of normality as he addressed the pit with dismay. "I want a full blown circle pit, none of this pussy hardcore, kicking/boxing bullshit!" Moments later, a secondary pit of about three dozen people broke out in the general-admissions area. If the pussies in the pit weren't going to heed his call, the rest of the crowd was.

Devil Driver - Thomas Hoevel

Once the small riot on the main floor had quelled itself, Trivium's drummer Travis took the stage. Illuminated by a lone spotlight, he raised one arm, signaling that the night had just begun. Opening with "Like Light to the Flies", Trivium quickly caught the attention of the otherwise lifeless pit, causing them to actually begin to mosh. Not only was the pit alive, but the small riot on the main floor had fired up again. After finishing "Requiem", a familiar heavy riff filled the room: "Walk". After finishing the intro, they began to play "Domination". Ending "Gunshot to the Head of Trepidation" and "Pull Harder on the Strings of Your Martyr", Trivium definitely displayed their much-lauded musical ability.

Trivium - Thomas Hoevel

In Flames - Photo by Thomas Hoevel

Surprisingly, In Flames did not shove their newer, sub-par material down our throats. Instead, they dabbled with their entire musical career, much to the delight of the crowd. During their set of around 20 songs and maybe two hours, they played older songs such as "Trigger", "Episode 666", "Bullet Ride", "Pinball Map", and "Black & White", as well as a few from COME CLARITY and SOUNDTRACK TO YOUR ESCAPE (namely, "Touch of Red", "Leeches", "Friend", and "Take This Life"). Halfway through their set, Anders addressed the crowd in his "straight from the Shire," Bilbo Baggins accent, announcing that he was thirsty and needed to grab some forgotten whiskey. Not being one to leave us idle, he pulled some random guy from the put to sing "Bullet Ride" for us. The squat, tank of a man next to me started muttering a few "Holy fuck"s as he rubbed his soul patch. It was at this point that I named him Metalhead Steve. As Jespers and Bjorn started tearing into their guitars like a pair of wolves, the stand-in Anders started to throw his head up and down in a V-pattern. Then, in a burst of rage, he pulled the mic to his face and said nothing: he choked. He stood there like an idiot and cracked a grin only seen on child molesters, as the word "pussy" could be heard from the crowd. Metalhead Steve then pushed his face two inches away from mine, his eyes filling with bloodlust as he screamed: "THIS IS DO OR DIE!" I've never met a man in my life whom I was more afraid of. Another guy from the pit jumped on stage, grabbed the mic from the other guy, and started screaming. Soon Anders came back, and the two stand-in Anderses went offstage. Whether you condemn their newer music or not, In Flames puts on one of the best live shows: no ri-goddamn-diculous makeup, extreme pyrotechnics, or excessive tongue exposure needed.

To comment on this or any other piece you see in SKRATCH, feel free to e-mail us at speakup@skratchmagazine.com.

BONE ROTT
DECEPTION
ETERNAL NEMESIS
SONATA ARCTICA
February 10, 2006 @ Key Club (West Hollywood, CA)
By Ashton Howarth

Sonata Arctica have made their second appearance in North America, this time in support of their new release RECKONING NIGHT. Originally from Finland, this band has managed to make a huge impact all the way here in Hollywood. They were teamed up with several local acts, which made for some quality entertainment. Butt-rockers from near and far came out to see these guys put on an epic show.

I walked into the Key Club just in time to see opening act Bone Rott getting offstage. They received a fairly large amount of applause, so I'm guessing that they put on a fairly good show (or that the bar tabs were already getting pretty high).

The venue swelled with people as Deception took the stage. These guys put on a great performance, expertly shredding up some fast-paced riffs and sweet guitar solos. I was constantly harassed by the long hair of nearby fans as they whipped it around in circles to the driving beats. Deception was very well-rehearsed keeping all the songs very tight despite the intricate guitar work. It is something one doesn't usually see coming from local artists. These guys have been around for a while, which I'm sure that was part of the reason. They received a large roar upon their departure from stage-and this time I was sure it was genuine and not a result of the extreme intoxication of the now-enormous crowd.

An unsigned act out of Riverside, Eternal Nemesis, were very much like a modern version of Megadeath or Iron Maiden-basically, just hair metal up the ass. They defiantly didn't suck, but they lacked any distinct originality. Having never heard them before, I couldn't tell one song from the next. I guess I should have asked some of the other people there what they thought.

After the first few bands had had their 25 minutes of fame, the headlining act, Sonata Arctica, made their extravagant entrance. The crowd, by now noticeably liquored-up, expressed their delight with a deafening roar. I could actually feel the floor bending under the weight of the jumping fans as the band opened with "Misplaced". This five-piece had the audience throughout their entire set-despite its being 15 songs-with melodic riffs and expert shredding. Singer Tony Kakko) made use of his impressive falsetto vocals to let the crowd know he had a wide range of control. A few other great songs played were "Black Sheep", "Don't Say a Word", and "Full Moon". These guys made me feel like I had taken a time machine back to medieval times and that I should be merrily swinging a pint back and forth in unison with the crowd. The set was full of high energy, as Sonata Arctica was just as happy to be playing for this huge crowd as the crowd was to be listening to their talented and technical music. Even after they had finished playing, lots of people stuck around trying to get an autograph before they made their way off.

To comment on this or any other piece you see in SKRATCH, feel free to e-mail us at speakup@skratchmagazine.com.

8TH ANNUAL INDIE FEST
February 2-14, 2006 @ Roxie Cinemas and the Women's Building Auditorium in San Francisco
By Melanie Roberts

Despite his best efforts, Jeff Ross, founder and director of the San Francisco Independent Film Festival, could not hate me. The seemingly shy, sullen guy who (I'm almost positive) puts on a black T-shirt of apathy every morning wanted nothing more than to be left alone following the long-awaited showing of the festival's provocative kickoff film, THE PROPOSITION-a violence-heavy Australian western by famed author/musician Nick Cave and director John Hillcoat. Fortunately for me, his attempt at villainy was weak and overpowered by his genuine love for the festival and the films it supports. "Yeah, I know your publication. And you want an interview. And I've been drinking," he confessed. Ross is every brilliant, outsider teen turned adult that I have ever met. He is Dungeons & Dragons. He is The Legend of Zelda. He is what happens when people don't get everything handed to them and have to make shit happen on their own. That's who all of these people are-and that's what makes SF IndieFest so damn good. It's just freaks and geeks getting together to bitch about the intensifying southbound spiral of mainstream cinema, share some cheap drinks and laughs, and tear to pieces the envelope other festivals waste their time pushing.

After milliseconds of short, half-grumpy/half-shy, matter-of-fact bursts of answers, Ross quickly decided to retreat back to his comfort zone and redirected the summarization of a year's worth of hard work, passion, and preparation to Bruce Fletcher, director of programming for SF IndieFest, "Talk to Bruce, he's better at this." According to Fletcher, he is the artsy one and Ross is the "framework," the nail holding these two together being the shared, unique mission that Ross relayed to Fletcher in the festival's early years: there must be walk-outs from every film shown. Long story short, Fletcher liked what Ross was preaching and jumped on board-and they have been putting the "walk-out philosophy" into practice for the last eight years.

Much to Fletcher and Ross' delight and doing, the 8th Annual SF IndieFest (February 2-14) pulled in approximately 10,000 people who were dared by films sardine-packed with the kind of creativity that scares parents and the authorities, examining things such as their own moral groundwork, tolerance for reality and lunacy, and the ability to think outside the mainstream box office, each film seen in the light of its own modestly-budgeted yet highly creative cinematic glory. From the more than 100 films shown at the festival, the following five cling most tightly to my memory:

Gregory Hatanaka's MAD COWGIRL is (to make a pun) rare. This hematic tale of a meat inspector (played by Sarah Lassez) turned killer due to a mad cow disease-induced brain disorder left me feeling confused…and nauseous. Then again, I'm not a huge red-meat-eater, nor do I enjoy perpetuating masochistic relationships (Biblically speaking) with a severely creepy, significantly older pastor (Walter Koenig), a won't-take-no-for-an-answer ex-husband (Vic Chao), and a melancholic, suicidal brother (James Duval). While the film offers little in the way of dialogue, it did capture a few impressive, artfully-shot gems that will be forever branded on my psyche. MAD COWGIRL is just messed up enough to secure its fate as a cult favorite.

PIRATES OF THE GREAT SALT LAKE is probably somewhere being underrated at this very moment. Written in one week's time and shot in less than a month, it is E.R. Nelson's directorial debut-and one of the funniest movies at the festival. It is a campy comedy about two social underdogs who, via rampant imagination and immaturity, band together to live out their youthful dreams of being pirates. Captain Kirk Redgrave (Kirby Heyborne) and First Mate Flint Weaver (Trenton James) float around in their tattered rowboat not very far off the shores of Utah's greatest lake awaiting clueless strangers from whom they can steal and pillage. In truth, this amounts only to storms of empty threats shouted through a bullhorn to confused lake visitors. Throw in an awkward-spoken, villainous pawnshop owner (Larry Bagby) and Redgrave's inability to break pirate character, and you have yourself what is arguably the silliest and most quotable film since NAPOLEON DYNAMITE.

A transparent guy with a deadpan voice and ocean waves for hair is, perhaps, the most endearing character in the "amalgamation of animation" that is CARTOONS, ETC. In "Tales of Mere Existence"-one of the 16 animated series featured in the film-creator Lev uses what seems to be a felt-tip pen to draw conclusions to some of life's most annoying themes, such as procrastination and the seemingly inevitable test of love couples embark on whenever in a video-rental store.

What the fuck can I say about Steve Anderson's documentary FUCK? Oh, it's pretty fucking good… and it's also pretty fucking thorough. Actually, it was a little too fucking lengthy in the beginning, but then it really picked the fuck up toward the end. It was jam-packed with interesting fucking facts, quotes, and interviews-all surrounding my second favorite profanity and its role in the argument for free speech. Anderson pulled in some pretty fucking impressive interviewees, such as long-time ABC News anchor Sam Donaldson; legendary rapper and founder of Public Enemy Chuck D; and life-long social critic and counterculturite Hunter S. Thompson. There are also funny fuckers Billy Connolly, Kevin Smith, and Alan Keyes (oh, wait-that last fucker is crazy, not funny. Sorry).

Once upon a time, in a suburban neighborhood somewhere in one of those forgotten middle states, there plotted a deranged teenage couple who, through the magic of gutter-dwelling self-esteem and lackluster parenting, met and fell dangerously in love. JIMMY AND JUDY, a hellish Romeo-and-Juliet "romance" by Jonathan Schroder and Randall Rubin, is a distinctly disturbing piece of true cinematic genius that reminds us how, when joined together through sex, drugs, and confusion, true adolescent love is a partnership not to be taken lightly. With video camera always in hand, Jimmy (Edward Furlong), a tumultuous soul with a mile-long psychiatric rap sheet, stares down Judy's (Rachael Bella) most intimate and self-loathing emotions, breaking her free of her teenage prison. In return, Judy falls in wholehearted love with Jimmy and remains a devoted partner throughout the hells and high waters of their misadventures. Together, the two take on drug abuse, sexual mischievousness, violence, and a whirlwind of shit brought on by one bad decision after another. JIMMY AND JUDY is the most beautifully messed-up homage to love and devotion I have witnessed since SECRETARY.

The 8th Annual SF IndieFest went off without a hitch, and Fletcher rated it a great success. As proof, he points to the experience of Jason Wiener, the unofficial "mascot" of SF IndieFest, a physicist for a nuclear medicine company and fan extraordinaire. For the past five years, Wiener has been buying his IndiePass (it gets you into every film and party) and staying up through the night to see every single film. "[Wiener] declared this festival the best one yet," said Fletcher. "He's my hero." Truly, SF IndieFest remains true to hardcore film fans like Wiener. If that's not "keepin' it real," then I don't know what is-and I don't want to. Go to www.sfindie.com/indiefest06 to find out more about SF IndieFest and the other mind-blowing films that were shown. Special thanks to Megan Fenton (major team player) and Chris and the gang at Karen Larsen and Associates for all their help. If you would like to comment on this interview or anything else in SKRATCH, please e-mail us at www.speakup@skratchmagazine.com.

THE REGGIE SHOW:
REGGIE AND THE FULL EFFECT
COMMON DENOMINATOR
FLUXUATION
February 23, 2006 @ Chain Reaction (Anaheim, CA)
By Brian Spiegel

It would be safe to say that Andy Kaufman and Reggie and the Full Effect frontman James Dewees probably wouldn't get along. I guess that's not saying much: when Kaufman was alive, he really didn't get along with anybody. Still, the two have a lot in common, including a love of creating elaborate jokes and characters. The only difference between the two is that Kaufman never admitted that he was Tony Clifton (his most famous character), while James's three creations-pop-hardcore band Reggie and the Full Effect, British dance twosome Fluxuation, and Finnish black-metal quintet Common Denominator-are all conducted under assumed names, James isn't shy to slip in less than subtle hints that all three bands are essentially one in the same. That isn't to say that this admission has made the overall joke any less funny. Consider all three bands current playing "The Reggie Show," a two-and-a-half-hour extravaganza that stopped off in mid February at Chain Reaction. The night showed off James's (or is it Reggie's?) willingness to take a joke far enough to make your eyes water (in you're in the know, anyway).

The fun began at 8:30 p.m. sharp with Fluxuation, who features "Reggie" and a pal dressed as mimes doing a silent interpretation of R Kelly's "Trapped in the Closet (Chapter Four)" before performing their three-song set with booty-shaking intensity.

Following a half-hour set change, Reggie and the Full Effect hit the stage, launching into the crunching guitars and keyboards of "What the Hell Is Contempt". The band members, all of whom were clad in various black shirts and pants, were solid, rifling through songs, James/Reggie tweaking his keyboard, singing/screaming, and leveling jokes at the audience. In recent years, Reggie and the Full Effect have become one of the most reliable American live acts. While their intensity onstage is unquestionable, the band has developed an ability to take extremes of emotions and meld them into songs, something that gives the set an almost schizophrenic personality. While a vein of comedy-sometimes dark comedy-runs through a Reggie set like the Colorado River cuts through the Grand Canyon, many songs are mired in a sort of sadness that gives the otherwise "hardcore" vibe another level. From the crushing blows of "What the Hell Is a Stipulation" and "Craving" to the softer tones of "Happy Valentine's Day" and "Get Well Soon", the band's 70-minute set was all about extremes. As a frontman James/Reggie has carved out a place as being funny and likeable-and as someone who understands that self-deprecation and self-pity are two different things. By the time the band blew through "The Trooth" to finish their set, the audience was in a stupor with excitement. A few pits even broke out , and a few lucky fans crowd-surfed their way onstage, only to become brunt of Reggie's good-natured jokes.

As the band shuffled offstage one by one, Reggie/James remained onstage for a few moments, clicking his keys and keeping the guitar feedback going. Eventually, a bassist (who may or not be Reggie's bassist) appeared onstage wearing a skeleton outfit, wig, and blood-soaked face. Follow a high-five, Reggie/James finally left the stage, and an extended bass solo was played while the rest of the band (dressed in "Scandinavian" metal clothing and wigs, faces drenched with blood) returned to the stage. As they broke into a metal riff, Klaus/Reggie hit the stage, thus completing Common Denominator. They broke into the techno-metal glory that is "Deathnotronic", their third song from their debut album (or so Klaus said), before blazing through "Linkin Verbs" and "Dwarf Invasion". Even though it's a joke, Common Denominator is a very good death-metal band, a band that Reggie/James/Klaus fronts with such over-the-top metal attitude (including a bare blood-soaked torso and faux Finnish accent) that the band would actually fit in very well touring Sweden with a band like Arch Enemy.

"The Reggie Show" finished up James/Reggie/Klaus, still soaked in blood, doing about 10 minutes of very funny, improvised stand-up before the Full Effect reappeared (all clean and shiny) for an encore of the band's newest single, "Take Me Home, Please".

Maybe the funniest thing is that all three bands have become such solid live acts that at some point in the evening you have to sit back and realize that behind all the jokes, all the costumes, and all the fake blood is great music. It's enough to make you follow Klaus's advice and buy a T-shirt. To comment on this or any other piece you see in SKRATCH, feel free to e-mail us at speakup@skratchmagazine.com.

MOTION CITY SOUNDTRACK
OK GO
PLAIN WHITE T'S
THE SPILL CANVAS
March 3, 2005@ the Glass House (Pomona, CA)
By Brian Spiegel

The word "gimmick" can sometimes be a dirty word in the music industry. When the words "gimmick" and "music" are inserted somewhere in the same sentence, people's brains automatically travel to a worst-case scenario, a place where sinister record company execs manipulate an artist's music or look to fit it into some carefully carved-out scene where they can enjoy increases in both record sales and notoriety. Gimmicks can be good, though-especially when they are developed to be a parody of a certain worn-out "standard" that has been done to death in more "traditional" situations. For the Chicago band OK Go, the gimmick in question is the choreographed dance, and what they did with it was not only "Why the hell didn't I think of that?" clever, but also pretty damn impressive in its own right.

For OK Go's 40-minute opening set, the band was the picture of how to play with an audience. Their over-the-top, self-absorbed shtick was pitch perfect leading to great one-liners (e.g., "You guys are a bunch of pussies. Fuck, I broke my broach.") and audience participation (e.g., lead singer Damian Kulash virtually walking on them at one point). The music wasn't half bad, either, from the Bowie-ish riffs of "Here It Goes" to their "hit" single "Get Over It". For a band that was backed by giant screens projecting nothing but various wallpaper prints, the response was surprisingly solid from such a young crowd. Most of the youngsters seemed to get the jokes, as laughter prevailed over the few weird looks stemming from some of the kids donning entirely black outfits. After the band busted through their last song, "Invincible", the group disassembled the drum kit, and Kulash came to the top of the stage to announce that they would play their new single, "A Million Ways", through an iPod-a funny, postmodern idea. And when the band assembled in formation and the song began to pump through the speakers, they began a perfectly choreographed interpretative dance (which you can view at WWW.OKGO.NET). The best way to describe it would be half-WEST SIDE STORY, half-MR. SHOW, and all inside joke. It was one of the best non-musical moments I had ever seen on stage-and proof that even indie-rockers can dance (and dance quite well).

OK Go - Photo by Jimbo

With the dance portion of the evening out of the way, headliners Motion City Soundtrack took the stage to a raucous reaction. The six-piece from the Land of a Thousand Lakes were solid in their hour-plus set, keeping the lights to a minimum and the music piercingly loud. For some reason, as their set progressed, what kept racing through my head was: "Maybe it's the lack of sleep or the bad Japanese fast food I had before the show, but Motion City Soundtrack might just be the best-looking band I've ever seen onstage." I don't mean this in a "attractive" way or even in a musical way; I mean more in the way the band exuded confidence onstage, combined with their love for black, button-down clothing and that the lights in the entire venue were those illuminating the band. It was almost hauntingly, giving the band a darker personality-even as the music remained fairly light. The band sounded good, aside from crazy-haired lead singer Justin Pierre's voice, which was (by his own admission) shot. Instead of blasting his weak voice through the speakers, they left it as is, letting the audience loudly sing along to most everything the band pulled out, from their hit single "Everything Is Alright" to the handful of older songs they pulled out. MCS have been called a band to watch for 2006. While I'm not quite convinced that they will be household names, their music is interesting enough to take the punkers attending the Warped Tour by surprise this summer.

The show featured two very good, very well-received openers. Plain White T's have spent the last five or so years teetering on the edge of mainstream success. While the band have a healthy underground following, their lack of mainstream exposure has more to do with a clog of similar-sounding bands occupying their position in the major leagues than anything they can be blamed for. Seriously, they have all the right stuff to break big: boyish good looks, stage presence, and above all, very solid and accessible music. Sure, it's not complex, but their blend of pop-punk is catchy enough to sell records and make the women in the audience swoon. The band's set was strong, the highlight coming courtesy of their catchiest ditty, "Take Me Away".

Plain White T's - Photo by Jimbo

First up were The Spill Canvas, who are on the same page as the T's: waiting for their spot at the top of the Warped Tour world. With a bit more of a mature sound, they would probably be better poker buddies with OK Go than with Motion City-which is not to say that the audience didn't eat up their Jimmy Eat World-meets-a disco beat sound. The fact that the lead guitarist looked like a WB soap star probably didn't hurt, either.

The Spill Canvas - Photo by Jimbo

To comment on this or any other piece you see in SKRATCH, feel free to e-mail us at speakup@skratchmagazine.com.

THE XBOX 360 TOUR:
PANIC! AT THE DISCO
THE ACADEMY IS…
JACK'S MANNEQUIN
HELLOGOODBYE
March 4, 2006 @ The House of Blues- Anaheim (Anaheim, CA)
By Brian Spiegel

All hail the guilty pleasure! You know what I'm talking about: the real songs you listen to. The ones that are on your "other" mix tape. The music that those stuck up music fucks won't admit they like. You get the picture.

The thing about the kind of music that one might place solely in the "guilty pleasure" category is that it's usually just as catchy and complex as the "hip" stuff that you might find in the pages of, say, SPIN MAGAZINE, it just tends to fit into the "younger" end of the spectrum. And once a band begins to dot the pages of BOP! and grace the walls of Hot Topic it seems that some people can no longer take that kind of band seriously regardless of how good the band might be. Early March saw The XBOX 360 Tour (all hail corporate sponsorship!) hit the House of Blues Anaheim with several of the best guilty pleasure bands around (Panic! At the Disco, Hellogoodbye, Jack's Mannequin and, to a lesser extent, The Academy Is…) donning the stage and putting on a show that proved even if it is "pop friendly", good music is good music.

The first band to hit the stage to a warm, "scream-worthy" response from the primarily 14-17 year old female audience (and, umm, me) was Huntington Beach's Hellogoodbye. They are a band that is deservingly building a rather nice buzz, thanks in part to its MTV approved single "Shimmy Shimmy Quarter Turn" (a perfectly executed piece of keyboard fueled pop that will make you push repeat on your car stereo). While the band has matured a bit from their AYSO soccer themed club shows circa 2002, their 30 minute opening set was anything but serious (even with their indie-band beards) thanks to profile cut-outs that dotted the stage( from Paris Hilton to ET to George W. Bush who, in what might or not be a political statement, was placed farthest from the front of the stage) and a finale of "Call n' Return" where band members dressed in various costumes (giant pizza slice, giant tequila bottle, giant chicken) and threw a full out moog dance party. Even with the juvenile atmosphere, the band was impressive and showed that even as the venues get bigger their live shows can fit any sized room with humor intact.

In proof that this tour was planned out at least six months in advance, Las Vegas disco-punker's Panic! At the Disco, a band who currently sports a top 40 album and is invading MTV2, played second, much to the confusion of any rational thinking human being in the venue. From the opening of the spectacular "The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide is Press Coverage" to the sampled violin of "I Write Sins Not Tragedies" to everything in between, Panic! showed that not only is all the buzz valid, but prose about their triumphs should be sung from the rooftops by mistrals in golden robes. Though a tad of annoyance seemed to settle in the air at their early set time, the band effortlessly showed their guns. Panic! threw the kitchen sink at the audience but did it in such a subtle way that it was hard not to become memorized. Lead singer and pianist Brendon Urie will probably be music's next big time front man. With his Brandon Flower's swagger and pristine voice, Urie's true talent lies in classically trained piano skills that would make Liberace proud (not to mention a white piano that looked like it was purchased at his estate sale.) For all intents and purposes this is Panic's tour, and a great prologue to a career that should bring the members riches that could exceed anything that ever inhabited Liberace's wildest dreams (ok, that's it, I apologize).

Panic! at the Disco - Photo by Olivia McDonald

In a special matinee performance, a very grateful, very energetic and much skinnier Andrew McMahon took the stage for a one off performance with his side project Jack's Mannequin. A recent survivor of leukemia, McMahon was as upbeat and forceful as ever with his piano skills, singing to an audience which was firmly placed in the palm of his hand from the opening chords of "I'm Ready". McMahon, and his very capable backup band, played a good, but also very guarded, eight song/ 40 minute set. It was odd to see McMahon, a man who is so brilliantly good at forcing both his voice and his piano playing to the limit in the criminally underrated Something Corporate, play a set that featured a restrained vocal performance. Sure, he stood up and forced out some brilliant chops on songs like "The Mix Tape", but for the most part he didn't stretch his vocals out as much as far and deep as he usually does. Being a side project with lyrics that involve more many more "I's" than "you's", McMahon gets a pass on trying something different even if the set did leave you longing for the days where McMahon would jump on his piano and belt out his sorrows. Those times will come again, I assure you, and in the mean time it warms my heart to have him back in the game and back on stage, where he belongs.

The Academy is…

"Headlining" the show was The Academy Is… The reports of a mass exodus following the openers sets never occurred with a good 90% of the audience stayed put for the closers. Those who stayed put were treated to a band that is unremarkable, but crowd pleasing. In other words: it's not my type of music, which I guess makes me the stuck up music fuck in this situation. Oh bother.

British Invasion 2K6:
Broken Bones
The Varukers
Funeral Dress
Naked Aggression
Resilience
So Unloved
March 5, 2006 @ the Orange Show (San Bernardino, CA)
By Zach Felmly

I know there were a lot more bands on the bill for this event, but those listed above were the ones I saw. Hey, with two stages and a riot, it was difficult to see all the bands!

I was all over the place during the show, and the first band I was coherent enough to see was So Unloved, an all-female act that puts out some really great tunes. They really got the crowd moving (unlike the last band, where the whole crowd just pretty much stood still, bored beyond all comprehension. So Unloved-so fucking great!

After a short reprieve, I saw Bay Area heroes Resilience. I fucking love Resilience and they put on an unbelievable show! I stood in the center of the pit smoking my cigarette (which everyone thought was a joint, for some reason, and wanted a hit of). Every song was a politically-charged anthem. They played all of their best material (e.g., "Sound of Strength", "Freedom"), but the highlight of their set was their cover of Reagan Youth's classic "Degenerated". Being the dirty punk bastard that I am, I jumped into the pit for a little carnage.

Time for merchandise! Okay, after the capitalistic orgy had passed, I headed back to the outside stage. Naked Aggression was on. As expected, they gave a great performance, playing all their classics (e.g., "Right Now", "Smash the State"). When they played "Bullshit Fuck You", the crowd went into an unforeseen rage, and people started throwing food in a juvenile manner. Very immature. (Has it ever been mature?) Everyone wanted more than they got from Naked Aggression, so the band came back with an encore of Kim Wylde's "Kids in America", which seemed to satisfy our thirst for more.

What do you expect from a pseudo-Oi! street punk? Nothing much, I hope-and that's exactly what Funeral Dress gives you. Don't get me wrong: I like Funeral Dress; they're just really "boring." They do perform some pretty sick songs. Especially fulfilling my lust for quality punk rock was "The Punks Are Back in Town" and their cover "Leaving on a Jet Plane". These boys from Belgium (hey, it's supposed to be the BRITISH INVASION!) put on a good (if a bit mediocre) show. Not my favorite.

"All Systems Fail"-the best Varukers song ever! Don't try to change my opinion. Oh, fuck it, they're all good! And as I hoped, they did play their classics, such as "Die for Your Government". As old as he may appear, vocalist Ratt, moves with the vulgarity and energy of a young punk, throwing himself around like mad and causing pure and utter chaos! I really hope this isn't the last time The Varukers tour the U.S., because every time they play, it just gets better.

Broken Bones, Broken fuckin' Bones! "Fuck off and die!" ran through my mind when they took stage. I wanted so desperately to hear them play that song, but they didn't. The last song I remember hearing was "Teenage Kamikaze". Most of you already know what happened next.

(The following is based on a personal account conflated with several interviews with my friends.) While I was still inside, events unfolded which would ruin the night for me and about 4,999 other concert goers. From what I was told, the Nazis were freed from their pathetic existence to start shit with all of us again. Chants of "White power" and rebuttals of "Fuck white power" led to the stabbing of a bonehead (apparently by a Suicidal [gang member]). The pigs were out tonight, and tear gas and pepper bombs were deployed both outside and inside the venue. The disoriented concertgoers (myself included) spilled out into the streets, many of us without rides and agitated by the events. I was across the street, where I witnessed the demolition of the interior of Jack in the Box. The Weinershnitzel was the safe haven. All of those who felt unsafe and insecure about being in the middle of it all flocked there. I was one of them. Everyone was minding their business, and the staff at this fine establishment locked us inside so that we didn't get hurt. After their "generous act," they ducked out the back, and being trapped like we were made us an easy target for the cops to terrorize-and terrorize us they did. In full riot gear, they rammed the windows in and threw tear gas into the place. This spelled trouble for the eight or so who were trapped. We made it out, luckily. This was really the first time I've ever dealt with police brutality on this scale. I'd like to thank all the douchebags from San Bernardino PD and whatever other police department aided in this heinous act. Why didn't you guys just deal with those responsible for the rioting instead of making everyone else pay? In the words of the fine gentlemen of N.W.A.: FUCK THE POLICE!

POLYSICS
AIRPORT 81
FIFTY ON THEIR HEELS
March 6, 2006 @ the Casbah (San Diego, CA)
By Beth VanBoxtel

I had been looking forward to this show for a while. This was only my second time at the Casbah, and the crowd was especially large this time, even for a Monday evening. Starting out the night was a local band called Fifty on Their Heels, but I didn't notice much of a crowd or following that came to see them that night. Regardless, my attention was drawn to the lead guitarist, because he made the most commotion on stage. With rapid moves and flings of his body, he was pretty entertaining. He didn't limit himself to the small stage, but danced around the audience gathered up front. I was impressed by the drummer's skillful beats, which were felt through the entire venue. I would say that he almost stole the show with his phenomenal breakdowns and non-stop beating. I hope to hear from this band in the upcoming months. To check out Fifty on Their Heels, visit www.myspace.com/fiftyontheirheels.

This next band was a group with a growing buzz that I had heard the previous night on a local music show dedicated to San Diego bands. Airport 81 is mostly instrumental, with only a hint of vocals. I was most impressed by the band's style of music. It wasn't overtly boring and monotone; instead, it was more like a fun and lively soundtrack to a defunct Atari game. I'll definitely be looking to see more of their shows around town. Check out their music on their Myspace page at www.myspace.com/Airport81.

As a fan of bands on Tofu Records, I had previously heard songs from Polysics and played them on the air of one of our local radio stations. The positive feedback we had gotten from playing "Coelakanth Is Android" from their latest release, NOW IS THE TIME!, made me excited to see them live. Hailing from Tokyo, this highly energetic band nearly exploded my eardrums with the shrill, chilling electronic sounds in each song. I was so overwhelmed by the high-pitched singing and sounds that I had to take a quick break outside between songs! I was befuddled by their ability to make so many loops out of their voices and recreate the many effects in the songs recorded on their albums. Polysics are not only unique in sound, but their performance was visually stunning. Each member of the band had his own style of dance moves to complement the music. (Think Michael Jackson in "Thriller" combined with vapid, robotic moves.) On top of this, I was delighted with their choice of cute costumes: matching neon orange jumpsuits with giant Ps buttoned near the chests, as well as sunglasses that could have come directly from the '80s new-wave era. Overall, I was surprised and came out with a better appreciation for Japanese electronic music. I would love to attend another Polysics show in the future and recommend doing so to anyone who loves crazy, thrilling music. Their Website is www.polysics.com/en.

Polysics - Photo by Don Richner

To comment on this or any other piece you see in SKRATCH, feel free to e-mail us at speakup@skratchmagazine.com.

the highlight of the night for me was "Sidekick" from LET'S GO, it seemed to have received the best response and the loudest sing-along even though the crowd got a couple verses mixed-up. Lars gave us all a choice of hearing "Antennas" or "Olympia WA" and it was no surprise that "Olympia WA" won out with a large cheer, during which Tim was pointing at Lars as he sang the line "Hanging' out with Lars down on 6th street". They finished up much too soon with "Ruby Soho" and Lars reminded everyone that they will be playing here every Tuesday in March. Tim asked the crowd if they should play another acoustic

LEFT ALONE
SOCIETY'S PARASITES
RANCID
March 7, 2006 @ The Echo, (Los Angeles, CA)
Photos and text by Todd Markel

Are you on myspace? Is Rancid a friend of yours on myspace? No? Well too bad then, cause if you were you would have received a bulletin announcing that tickets would be going on sale for some very special shows. Every Tuesday night in March is Hellcat Records night at The Echo, a tiny club in Echo Park. Showcasing some of Hellcat's brightest upcoming acts and headlined every night by an acoustic performance by Rancid. The tickets went on sale at 3:00pm the same day the announcement was made and sold out right away. Tickets were dirt cheap at only seven dollars apiece and they were sold through Ticketweb, so the services charges were extremely low. I was one of the lucky few to score a pair of tickets to every show.

The Echo is a literal shoebox, it's a very small and intimate venue, just north of Echo Lake on Sunset Blvd. Parking was a bargain at one dollar for ten hours. Upon entering the venue I could see the band set times posted and it showed Rancid playing second in the line-up. First up were some local punk homeboys from the Echo Park area called Society's Parasites. They were pretty good playing a hard rocking punk rock. With songs like "Fear The Night" and one called "Echo Park".

The mighty Rancid were due to play next, I know these shows were originally billed as acoustic sets by Rancid, but a part of me was hoping to see all of their equipment sitting on stage. The roadies were only setting up microphones for four musicians and their acoustic guitars. After a short wait, Lars Frederiksen walked out accompanied by Tim Armstrong, Matt Freeman and Brett Reed. The opening song was very appropriate, from LIFE WON'T WAIT they played "Who Would've Thought" and when Tim sang the line of "But I can't believe you're with me after dark / So let it come together in Echo Park" the whole place just kind of clicked and joined in singing. In fact the entire night was just one big punk rock, campfire sing-along. Lars, looking better than he has in years came to the microphone and introduced Matt and Tim, reminding everyone that they used to be in a little band called Operation Ivy. I don't think anyone needed any reminding, as this news was meet with a large cheer. Lars went on to introduce one of Operation Ivy's best-known songs "Knowledge". The crowd sang along with an unrestrained glee and the band seemed visibly pleased with the response. This was followed up with Rancid's song about Operation Ivy, "Journey to the End of The East Bay" which begins with Matt's legendary bass intro. Matt Freeman was playing an acoustic bass and looked to be in top form after his recent lung cancer scare, which turned out to be nothing. Lars did most of the talking tonight, introducing the next song as by a band from Orange County and then playing Social Distortion's "Story of My Life". You might ask what drummer Brett Reed is doing at this show? He's doing a fine job playing acoustic guitar right along with other three band members. The crowd was asked what they wanted to hear next and someone shouted out "a bass solo" and Matt obliged with a short, impressive solo. Lars sang his cover of Billy Bragg's "To Have and To Have Not" and from the first Rancid CD they played "Whirlwind" and "Rejected". Probably set next week or if they should they play electric and the overwhelming response was "ELECTRIC!" Tim laughed and said, "Alright we'll play electric." Wow what a fantastic show, I really feel lucky to have attended.

Rancid - Photo by Todd Markel

Before Lars left the stage he reminded everyone that coming up next was the hardest working punk rock band out there, Left Alone. I kind of felt sorry for them having to go on stage after such a great performance by Rancid. Lead sing Elvis acknowledged this fact and pointed out that the bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and the long Island ice tea in the other were really helping him deal with the pressure. I had seen Left Alone a few months back on tour with the Horror Pops and they were incredible. Tonight's show was no less so. They kicked the show into high gear with one great song after another. Tonight's entire show was being videotaped on multiple cameras, so lets hope we get to some of this on a Hellcat DVD someday.

FISHBONE
KNOCK-OUT
STIFF JIMMY AND THE VIAGRAS
EVE OF DESTRUCTION
March 9, 2006 @ Showcase Theatre (Corona, CA)
By Marcus Solomon

The recent British Invasion 2006 supergig in San Bernardino ended with racist skinheads giving the police an excuse to play with their tear gas and riot gear; but only a few days later, the Inland Empire was rocking with some funky-fresh ska fusion and heavy, joyful racial harmony. Like a tiny candle in the vast, dismal darkness, the Showcase Theatre was a warm and comfortable place to temporarily escape the cold, violent world outside. Fishbone was in the house-and make no mistake: "Fishbone is here to party!"

I left work as early as possible, but with apologies to the two opening bands, I made it to the show just as Knock-Out began its set. Knock-Out is always a good show, and from the looks of things, this band is poised to really take off. The club was surprisingly full for a Thursday night. Surely Fishbone helped bring in the bodies, but the majority of the fans were also eagerly awaiting this Riverside, CA, four-piece. Knock-Out has somehow tapped into the spirit of the late, great Sublime without becoming a cheesy rip-off. If you have never heard of this band before, remember that you learned it here first. These amazingly adept young men kick out the reggae/ska-laden punk jams with an ironic casual intensity. The music is clean, tight, and intense, but it's played in such a way that the notes seem to just flow from the musicians' bodies through their respective instruments. The recent addition of a second guitarist adds a full and richer dimension to this soon-to-be-famous band's already fine sound. Think of Sublime meets Fishbone with a healthy dose of Bad Religion, some Descendents, a heaping helping of Bad Brains, the wafting spirit of Peter Tosh and Bob Marley, and more-all channeling through the bodies of four young dudes who are allowing themselves to be vehicles for something larger than themselves. Crowd-favorites on this evening included the band's obligatory, ska-infused rendition of Bad Religion's "Generator" and the extremely Sublime-ish "Nice Day". The latter is a Knock-Out staple about a cheating girlfriend. "You say you're sorry and you don't know what to say / Fuck you! That's bullshit, why don't you get the fuck away." Brilliant! Everyone also really enjoyed the hilarious cover of Guttermouth's "Lipstick", which is a very funny tale about lazy and cruel teenage abuse of the female parental unit. Record labels looking for another great band to sign, take notice! Go to www.myspace.com/knockoutrock.

Knockout - Photo by Marcus Solomon

As the eight members of Fishbone found a bit of space on the relatively small Showcase stage and began to tune up, bassist Norwood babbled some semi-coherent personal insights into the microphone. Everything just fell into place. Each band member seamlessly drifted into the first song, "Suffering", as the crowd pressed ever forward, eagerly melting into the musical moment. It was all so very warm, friendly, and quite stony in a hard, reggae-ska-funk vein. The energy continued to build until vocalist Angelo Moore was completely immersed in melodious possession. He jumped from the stage singing "Everyday Sunshine" as he danced through the crowd. There wasn't much room for eight black guys to dance on that stage, but dance they did, dancing all over the place, weaving in and out, knocking over mic stands, tangled guitar chords, and leading the happy fans in yet another celebration of life. We were treated to some rub-a-dub-style reggae, straight-up ska, and some very Hendrix-y psychedelic blues. Angelo also took the time to impart this very important public-service message: "President Bush, you suck!" Of course, this wise sentiment was loudly cheered. But wait: another Sublime cover! Even I know the title of this one: the ever-popular "Date Rape". (Guitarist Tori Ruffin later informed me that Fishbone co-wrote that tune with the now-departed Brad Nowell.) Damn! What a fine show!

Fishbone - Photo by Marcus Solomon

In parting, here's some info for all the racist pinheads out there: black people invented rock 'n' roll. It is a blending of blues, jazz, and jungle rhythms. Whenever anyone enjoys rock music, homage is being paid to black culture. If you don't like that, then I suggest completely dropping out the rock world and organizing your own racist skinhead polka scene. Fishbone came to party, and Nazi punks fuck off! To comment on this or any other piece you see in SKRATCH, feel free to e-mail us at speakup@skratchmagazine.com.

THE STROKES
EAGLES OF DEATH METAL
SEAN NA NA
March 14, 2006 @ Stubbs BBQ (Austin, TX)
By Denise Blaz

Since the show was sold out in less than a day, I was not surprised to see a line of people wrapped around the block. I got up to the box office and was given two after show passes. Pretty sweet, huh? I got in right when Sean Na Na started playing. There was already a ton of people jam-packed at the front of the stage, including some famous people (Elijah Wood, the comedian who was the MC of the Hugh Hefner roast on Comedy Central, some girl from the movie THE FACULTY). At first glance, I thought the lead singer looked like Har Mar Superstar sans the glitz and glamour. After further inspection, I realized that it WAS Har Mar Superstar! Apparently, he's on a brief hiatus from doing Har Mar to focus on Sean Na Na full-time. This was their first show in three years, yet their sound was pretty tight. He made it known that one of the members was a local boy.

Before I knew it, Eagles of Death Metal took the stage. Jesse came out with a lightning-bolt shirt with glitter (much like his personality) and coolly wore a pair of aviator sunglasses at night. He's a total rock star in every respect and is the kind of guy who makes no secret that he loves the ladies. Queens of the Stone Age frontman and new dad Josh Homme took his seat behind his drum set, while the other EODM drummer, Samantha Maloney, took her spot on the other side of the stage. Seeing EODM live is somewhat intoxicating. All of their songs are danceable, and Jesse's an amazing frontman, always grabbing the audience's attention by always yelling out something like, "Are y'all ready to rock?"

Every time I see The Strokes take the stage, it's like I'm time-warped to a taping of AMERICAN BANDSTAND, except, well, it's a much modern version. Girls start frantically screaming, and everyone immediately starts dancing. Even though not much was said in between songs, all of the members commanded that stage, a kaleidoscope of lights illuminating them. Fabrizio jammed away on his raised drum set while chain smoking, Nikolai was his calm and collective self, Nick played his inventive riffs, Albert wore his signature tie and coat, and Julian wore a biker-looking leather jacket with a pin. They played an extensive, 22-song set that included a duet with Har Mar and songs such as "Juicebox", "Alone, Together", "Try Your Luck", and one of my personal favorites, "Barely Legal".

As I ended my night and as was walking to my car, I came to the realization that that was the first time I'd ever went to a concert alone-and I really had the best time.

To comment on this or any other piece you see in SKRATCH, feel free to e-mail us at speakup@skratchmagazine.com.

POISON THE WELL
HORSE THE BAND
APIARY
WHO RIDES THE TIGER
March 15, 2006 @ the Troubadour (Hollywood, CA)
By Brian Spiegel

Like any scene in today's wide musical landscape, hardcore music can sometimes suffer from a stagnant feeling. I must preface the following rant by saying that I do not identify myself as a "hardcore" kid by any stretch of the imagination (ask me about the striped Polo shirt I'm currently wearing), and my experience going to "true" hardcore shows has been limited to a few excursions with friends and other females I was trying to impress at the time. The problem that I see with much of today's hardcore music (as well as the rock, indie rock, country, and rap scenes also) is that a feeling of repetition has spread like a blanket over most bands that call the genre home. I've found that many hardcore bands have begun to subscribe to a very similar sound, with thrashing "roots" winning over experimentation much of the time. Which is not to say that this is necessarily a bad thing for fans of this particular scene. Many people seem to be content with a three-hour show of nothing more than double-kick drums, spiky guitar changes, and lots of screaming. Sometimes repetition breeds comfort, and comfort leads to content. While not a bad thing in itself, for someone on the outside looking in, it doesn't exactly grab you and shake you. This is why HORSE the band has knocked me for a loop. Not only have they thrown a wrench into the somewhat tired system of hardcore music, they seem to have shot 20cc of adrenaline into the beast's heart. By injecting (pun alert!) both keyboards and humor into an already solid hardcore base, they have come up with something that is not only fresh and funny, but also attractive to people who are looking for something different from their everyday maligned existence.

HTB's set was like a frantic, well-played half-hardcore show, half-comedy routine. If it wasn't for their musical expertise (I've never seen a keyboardist play with such split-second precision), it wouldn't be that much of a stretch to believe that HTB is a comedy troupe and their performances is nothing more than improv. The five-piece (three of whom were dressed in rather dapper-looking short shorts) opened heavily with "Birdo", a song that melds together so many different structure changes that it could lead to schizophrenia, before keyboardist Blade (who may or may not have been heavily intoxicated) began hilariously ranting on various topics, eventually focusing his attention on the "pussies" sitting up top. "I used to sit up there back before I had a girlfriend," he said, "then I would go home and cry". The band spent a good third of their 30-minute set trading jabs with the audience and each other. My personal favorite was lead singer Beef Sore putting this mic on his head and stating, "Hey, I'm a unicorn." Musically, the band's best attribute was their ability replicate their complex songs in a live setting. This might sound like no big deal, but when you see how quickly Blade has to move his hands during songs like "Bunnies", you realize what an accomplishment this is.

As much as the crowd deemed HTB pit-worthy, the throngs were here to slam their bodies in approval to Poison the Well. One of the better-known bands on the hardcore circuit, there is something intriguing about PTW. While they sometimes fall back into some of the repetitive signatures of hardcore music, they also have the tendency to change it up a bit, throwing some punk and even some straight rock moments into the equation to keep the music from becoming bogged down in cliches. The band's musical prowess was undeniable during their 50-minute/14-song set, as lead singer Jeffery Moreira prowled every nook of the stage, much to the approval of the audience. You get the feeling that PTW could pull out a 15-minute baroque orchestral song and fans would still bash their bodies against one another with approval. Where is Esa-Pekka Salonen when you need him?

Opening the show to a sparse crowd was Who Rides the Tiger (a question that I have no answer to), a band whose heavy guitar, distorted bass, and pounding drums were reminiscent of Kyuss or heavier Queens of the Stone Age. The three-piece was actually quite good, despite the audience being so quiet that you could hear the lead singer talk when he turned away from the microphone.

Sharing the opening duties were Apiary from San Jose, who were loud, fast, screamy, and fairly generic. In other words, the hardcore fans ate it up with pit-starting, fist-shaking approval (while I worked out my tax return in my head). To comment on this or any other piece you see in SKRATCH, feel free to e-mail us at speakup@skratchmagazine.com.

ANTI-WAR MARCH AND RALLY PRESENTED BY THE ANSWER COALITION
March 18, 2006 (Hollywood, CA)
By Matt Edmund

It's been over three years since our country invaded and first occupied the country of Iraq. A bloody battle over land rich in natural resources has led America down a road of uncharted danger. More and more Americans are questioning our true intentions for invading. Are we there really to bring a free society to the Iraqi people? Perhaps this is the start to World War III, planned over decades by military think-tankers who see opposition to the United States as a threat to our economic future. Whatever the reasons for questioning, people are growing more and more concerned with the direction our country is headed. Most feel their only way to change things is to vote. Others (like myself) find it necessary to take our feelings to the street and protest this unjust act of aggression. This was the case in Hollywood, as over 20,000 people came out calling for an end to the occupation.

The rain cleared about 10 hours prior to the march, leaving the L.A. Basin free of smog. Taking the Metro from Long Beach to Hollywood, I got into Hollywood around 11:45 a.m. This being my sixth time participating in a protest against the war in Iraq (three up in my home area of the Bay Area and three in my new home of Southern California), I knew exactly what to expect. A decent-size crowd gathered at the intersection of Hollywood and Vine, but it was nothing like crowds in the past. Many people sported signs of "Impeach Bush," while another group carried cardboard caskets lined with American flags in honor of those men and women who lost their lives in this war. There were also cardboard caskets draped in black to remember the Iraqi civilians who were also victims of this war.

I have to admit that after attending six of these events, I have observed some disappointing things. For one, I have to question how serious these protesters are about actually fixing the problems that face this country. Personally, I don't trust politicians to fix anything. I'm an anarchist, plain and simple. I have hope that someday the truth behind the lies of both major political parties will come to light and we, the people, will stand up and take back this country from the capitalist grip of greedy politicians. I see many people stating that putting a Democrat in office will right the wrong. In my opinion, putting faith in a Democrat or any politician is like putting a Band-Aid over a bullet wound. Face facts: our political system is broken, and it needs to be smashed. Another observation I have made is that people treat these important marches and rallies as some kind of social event for liberals to Bush-bash. Granted, the man is evil, but the fact is that the problem is much deeper than his administration.

The march started around 1:00 p.m., an hour after the intended start. The march stretched down Hollywood Boulevard and eventually made its way to Sunset Boulevard. The police presence was considerably light, as only cops on motorcycles and bikes patrolled the route. Marchers chanted anti-war songs while making the trek to Hollywood Boulevard and Highland Avenue (where the rally was to take place). Eventually arriving in front of the Kodak Theater and Mann's Chinese Theater, the stage was set for a huge rally. Perhaps the most surreal thing about the setting of this rally was the mix of protester and foreign tourists. Imagine seeing Japanese tourists taking pictures next to some guy in a Homer Simpson costume while someone is holding up a sign that states "Fuck Bush" only feet away. It was something out of an acid trip! The rally consisted of representatives from ANSWER (Act Now to Stop War and End Racism) and others opposed to the war. Congresswoman Maxine Waters spoke to the crowd, as well as some of Hollywood's film-industry elite. Actor Martin Sheen gave a rousing speech that moved the crowd with cheers and applause.

I was impressed with the rally up until the point when KPFK radio host Jerry Quickly took the microphone and proceeded to pressure the crowd to donate money to ANSWER. Why do this in the middle of what should be a rally focused on the war? I understand the need for funds in order to put together a march like this, but there is a time and a place for this kind of thing. It felt very inappropriate. This is just another way that ANSWER has dropped the ball by diluting the anti-war message. Why do the issues of immigration and police brutality need to be brought up at an anti-war march? This does nothing but take the focus off of what we are all marching against. If ANSWER wants to march against police brutality, do it on another day. Let's keep the focus on one issue at a time!

As I took the Metro back to Long Beach, I did a lot of thinking about what I witnessed. I thought back to my first march in San Francisco before the invasion took place in February 2003. Over 100,000 people took to the streets in a boisterous, energetic, and angry mob. We were pissed off and frustrated that our president was about to strike against a country that posed no threat to us nor had a connection to the attacks of September 11th. The crowd in Hollywood lacked energy and seriousness. While I walked along shouting at the top of my lungs and pumping my fist in the air, I saw people talking on their cell phones, chatting with each other about sports, and drinking Starbucks coffee.

Jello Biafra once said, "Real freedom scares you because it means responsibility!" It's as though people want to place blame rather than fix the problems at hand. We have been conditioned to believe in the voting process, that voting Democrat will successfully place a Band-Aid on the Dick Cheney/conservative bullet wound. The anti-war movement in America is almost as depressing as the war itself. People don't want revolutionary change because that would mean giving up comfort. As for me, I'll be hitting the pavement no matter who is in office, because the expansion of American empire not just a Republican agenda but that of whichever of the two major political parties that may be in office. As for the Green and Libertarian Parties, we have yet to see the day when cruise to political victory, and I doubt we ever will. Perhaps things could be different, but it seems very unlikely. I mean, consider the fact that they are also politicians-meaning they're capable of anything. Who knows what America would look like if Ralph Nader became president? The bottom line is that people need to get pissed off and aware of the lies sold as truth. People need to get angry and motivated. People need to WAKE UP, or else we'll be marching for peace for decades to come. Let's get serious and send a sincere message to our faulty government. It's time for a real revolution.

Anti-Flag
The Casualties
The Unseen
Smoke or Fire
March 20, 2006 @ House of Blues (Anaheim, CA)
By Brittany Zane

The last time I had seen Anti-Flag was Warped Tour 2000, when they were just another fairly unknown punk band with songs about drinking and a distaste for the government. Fast forward six years, and they've covered a lot of ground (and airwaves), with an old classic that suddenly has a whole new relevancy, as well as a brand-new album.

The first band, Smoke or Fire, really didn't seem to take much of the anticipation out of the crowd. Although there was a bit of an explosion of clapping and movement to their third song, "Cops and Drugs", and quite a bit of healthy fist-shaking to the band's appropriately-titled "Good-bye to Boston", the crowd was generally placid and doe-eyed throughout the set. The band was decent, sounding a little like The Descendants at times (especially during "Fire Escapes"), but nobody really got into it. Their set ended with a distastefully radio-friendly punk-rock song, "50 Cent Hearts". Maybe the audience was saving up their energy for the next act.

Smoke or Fire - Derek Tobias

The Unseen probably put on the best show of the night. Seemingly powered by some sort of self-replenishing energy source, they erupted onstage in a burst of light, energy, and sound and kept it going throughout their set. Opening with "Weapons of Mass Deception", vocalist Mark wasted no time in jumping right onto the barricade and feeding the mic to the crowd. During their second song, audience participation was not merely welcomed, it was demanded with the question, "Are we dead yet?" This resulted in a chant of "We're not dead." During this song, Mark was in the audience practically more than he was onstage. Not even minor guitar difficulties kept these guys down. They also played "On the Other Side" (from their new album, STATE OF DISCONTENT). The audience participation continued with a sing-along to "Social Security". "So Sick of You" (from EXPLODE) was introduced with a dedication to Anti-Flag and The Casualties. Mark explained the meaning of the song by saying that it was written as a response to people who talk shit about a band once they have gotten "to a certain point and tour a lot." "So This Is Freedom" was dedicated to the president, and the crowd screamed along the entire time. Another highlight was the introduction to "You Can Never Go Home", which was a quasi-acknowledgment of the absurdity of a punk show being here: "We wanted to play some happy music for Disney, but all our songs are about how fucked up we are or how fucked up the world is. Instead of growing out my hair and putting on girl pants and makeup, I grabbed a six-pack of beer and wrote this song."

The Unseen - Photo by Derek Tobias

The Casualties - Photo by Derek Tobias

Classic punk-rock staple The Casualties didn't exactly give the crowd a break. The entire set was basically a gigantic sing-along, and not even a small fight that broke out could deter the fans from devouring everything the band threw their way. A couple major highlights were their slightly pogo-perky "Punk Rock Love" and a cover of The Ramones' "Blitzkrieg Bop". Their set ended with the crowd screaming for more. However, they were soon satiated by the main course.

Anti-Flag - Photo by Derek Tobias

Anti-Flag opened their set with "Die for the Government". I thought that the guys would've made the crowd earn the infamous anthem, but they burst right onto stage and totally rocked it. Maybe they were a little excited about their new record, FOR BLOOD AND EMPIRE. They followed this up with just as much energy, playing "Kill the Protestor". Even though the floor was lacking room for dancing, it didn't stop the crowd from giving their all right back. There was plenty of screaming and flailing. In spite of everything emulating from both sides of the barricade, including all of the very real feelings and girls in the audience passing out, there was a certain authentic punk-rock vibe missing. Sure, the guys looked good, displaying visible passion for their music and oozing with charisma, but didn't they have anything to say? The first part of Anti-Flag's set came off as more of a pep rally than a punk-rock show. Just as I was beginning to become disillusioned with the band, the guys turned it around by introducing the song "Got the Numbers" with a speech about a clause in Bush's "No Child Left Behind" plan. There was a small lull during "911 for Peace". However, they won the crowd back with "Hymn for the Dead". I mean, these kids got seriously into it, some even sporting the closed-eyes, "fired up for Christ" faces. The show wound down with "Underground Network" and "Death of a Nation". Anti-Flag made a brief exit and then a very predictable return for a three-song encore: "One Trillion Dollars", "One People, One Struggle", and "Turncoat".

To comment on this or any other piece you see in SKRATCH, feel free to e-mail us at speakup@skratchmagazine.com.

» BACK TO TOP

---

---