DECEMBER 2003 Show Reviews

THE DAUGHTERS
FAIRWEATHER
THE BLED
GIVE UP THE GHOST
October 10, 2003 @ the Troubadour (Hollywood, CA)
By Todd Markel

The Daughters are a band whose press release calls them "Apollonian" in nature and that they are processing the "Dionysian" spirit (whatever the fuck that means). They have short, fast songs belted out with wild abandon by an Adonis-type screamer. If you don't like the song they are playing, just wait a few seconds and it will be over, and they're on to the next. But if you didn't like the first song, you probably won't like this one. I have to say that their songs pretty much all sounded the same to me, but they did have great titles, such as "I Slept with the Daughters and All I Got Was This Song Written About Me", "Pants Meet Shit", and "Nurse Would You Please Prep the Patient for Sexual Doctor". They were also a lot of fun to watch. Their head-banging bass player looks a little like Lemmy of Motorhead, and the singer commands the stage like a hardcore Jim Morrison, writhing on the ground and flirting with the boys in the front row. You can check out their complete new CD, CANADA SONGS, at www.wearedaughters.com.


The Daughters

The next band left me wondering, Who was that? They were good. Well, they were Fairweather. They played a tight, well-received set punctuated with good, poppy song with catchy rifts and infectious hardcore grooves. They seemed a little out of place playing with these screamo hardcore bands, but the crowd seemed to enjoy their set—as did I. According to Fairweather's Website, this is their last tour. It seems some members of the band aren't in the right place in their lives to continue working the way they've been working, and so they are calling it quits. A few days after this show they canceled the rest of their tour to head home due to two separate family emergencies. The band promises two more shows before they are done. Check out their latest release, LUSITANIA, out on Equal Vision Records and their Website at www.fairweatherva.com - and hope that they decide to make a come back in the future.


Fairweather

After opening a few shows for Thrice in 2003, The Bled have been turning (if not banging) quite a few heads recently with their instant hardcore classics (like "Red Wedding" and "Ruth Buzzi Better Watch Her Back"). They have a metal sound with a lot of complicated double-bass pedal work. The Bled hit the stage full throttle, with vocalist James Muñoz all over the place, on his back, and in and out of the crowd letting fans share the mic with him to scream along. From Tucson, The Bled are out to show the world there's a lot more to the Arizona desert than snakes and Gila monsters. Check them out at www.thebled.net.


The Bled

Formally known as American Nightmare, Boston's Give up the Ghost are currently touring in support of their new CD, WE'RE DOWN TIL WE'RE UNDERGROUND, on Equal Vision records. Give up the Ghost exploded on the stage with a ton of energy and proceeded to rock the house. Singer Wes Eisold looks mild-mannered, but he proves looks can be deceiving as he lead the crowd in scream-alongs such as "AM/PM" (featured on the Atticus release DRAGGING THE LAKE) or new songs like "Love American" and "Since Always" off their new CD. They are touring Europe 'til Christmas, and then its on to Japan in January. To stay updated, go to www.giveuptheghost.com.


Give up the Ghost

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OMAR'S 2ND ANNUAL HALLOWEEN BASH:
THE FOLD
LAST PRIORITY
THE VOIDS
PEEPING PERVZ
THREATENING VERSE
October 24, 2003 @ private residence (La Puente, CA)

This was probably the best party I have ever attended. At least a couple of hundred punk teens and young adults congregated in a residential backyard in the Southern California city of La Puente to enjoy the booze, the bands, and the overall good vibe emanating from everyone. Imagine this: small yard, dirt, tattered wooden fences, pallets for a stage, rockin' bands, cheap drinks, and lots of cool people. When the cops finally showed up, even Johnny Law had a good attitude.

"Three bucks," said the heavy-set Mexican kid at the gate. I quickly put on my rubber mask. My mask was an oversize troll head that had two mohawks on each side of the noggin. The guy at the gate laughed, then let me in because everyone in costume was admitted free. The place was packed. The yard was wall-to-wall punk kids standing around laughing, drinking, smoking cigs and some strange-yet-fragrant-smelling herbal product. I saw many creepy creatures like monsters, gunshot and burn victims, and plenty of bonita hinas in sexy outfits.

Having missed The Fold, I walked in just as Last Priority was finishing up its set. I could hear loud music coming from the back of the house, and I wondered, "How long until the cops shut this down?" "Hey Marcus, I did not recognize you with that mask on," said Superbrass, the bassist for The Voids. What a funny guy—I was not wearing a mask at the time. The band set up quickly and charged right into the set. High-spirited bedlam ensued as The Voids whipped the drove into a swirling mass of excitement. Dirt and smoke filled the air as everyone thrashed around the backyard. The whole yard was a mass of happily-intoxicated people bouncing off of each other. A few crowd-surfers appeared, as the throng of partygoers was compact and wild enough to support elevated, thrashing people. It did not take long before the pandemonium overtook the band's precarious position. The "stage" was a few nailed-together wooden pallets covered with scraps of plywood. The people poured forward, and The Voids fell backward into the drum kit—but Adri kept singing and the rest of the band continued playing (as best they could). The band tried to play the ever-popular "LAPD" for its final number, but the crowd knocked the musicians down twice. Adri showed me the lump on her forehead after the set.

I took the time between bands to admire the handiwork of some unnamed electrical genius. Somebody somehow wired an ordinary portable radio/CD player to function as a PA system. Dozens of wires lay jumbled about on the ground, leading to the amplifiers on the "stage." The ingenious contraption was powered by a big, orange extension chord leading across the yard, through a bedroom window, and into an unseen bedroom wall socket. All night long people would bump into the amplifiers, but somebody always caught the equipment before it hit the ground. Whoever happened to be nearby always took it upon themselves to save the show.

Then it was time for Peepin Pervz, four guys in black trench coats playing eerie-sounding, bass-heavy punk. Maybe it was the alcohol, but I imagined a punk-inspired mobster movie filmed in black and white, Peepin Pervz providing the soundtrack. Does that make sense? Drink a bottle of Boone's "Melon Ball" spiked with a $2.99 bottle of vodka, and maybe you will understand. The vocalist started out the set with a real jack-o-lantern on his head. During the first number, he danced around while bashing his pumpkin head with both fists until the carved squash came completely apart. That's entertainment.

The final band of the evening was Threatening Verse. This band creates rhythmic, focused clamor bordering on complete chaos. Classic punk in the '80s vein was created for our collective enjoyment. Again, the crowd kept surging forward into the band, causing numerous instances of toppled musicians, nearly-toppled amplifiers, and creative rearrangement of the drum kit. Threatening Verse may very well be the quintessential backyard punk band. No matter how chaotic things became, the crew kept playing—and well. At one point, I had to squat down before the drum kit to hold it together while simultaneously holding guitarist Gnat's microphone stand with my other hand. I remember looking up at Gnat as he played, shouting, "Yeah, Gnat! Go! Fuckin' go!" This seemed to be appreciated by the vocalist, who is a very intense, young, and friendly Mexican woman who seems a bit more "cholo" than "chola." Comprende, chingon? Chale', then. "The cops are here," she said, and the ghetto-bird was soon overhead sweeping everyone away with that high-powered Mercury spotlight.

"Goodnight and drive safely," I heard one of the smiling police officers tell the exiting party people. Believe it or not, all the police on hand were being completely cool about the situation; and nobody in attendance gave the police a difficult time. I went up to one officer and said, "Thank you for your patience and for allowing us to have so much fun." "No problem," was his smiling answer as he pointed the way out with his flashlight. Muchas gracias, Omar. See you next year!

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CATCH 22
SLICK SHOES
BOYS NIGHT OUT
WORTHLESS UNITED
November 4, 2003 @ Chain Reaction (Anaheim, CA)
Text and Photos by Annette Ovanessian

I forgot what a drag it was driving from Los Angeles to Anaheim on a Tuesday evening. I guess you could imagine how much traffic I sat through just to get there on time. Well, I left early enough, so I got there quite a bit early. I ended up waiting in my car doing my math homework before the doors opened.

The line was pretty long and mainly consisted of males. Chain Reaction is an all-ages venue, so it's a given that most of the audience is still in high school. As I have been out of high school for about six years now, looking at the teenagers nowadays leaves me in disbelief. The girls were totally obsessed over making out with their boyfriends and wearing crop tops in the really cold weather. All the guys probably wanted to go off by themselves, but their girlfriends insisted they tag along—or else there will be no more making out for the night! I only noticed a handful of girls that actually started a female "non-violent" mosh circle, and that was unexpected.

I selected to review this show because of Catch 22, but since I was there, I had to observe three other bands equally. Openers Worthless United came all the way from New Jersey to shine on new crowds throughout the tour with their typical rock-band sound. Surprisingly, I enjoyed the band, despite all the "hey"s and "yeah"s they shouted out frequently. However, the audience's response was not very enthusiastic: there was barely any movement, and there was very minimal clapping. I know the singer felt the silence and indifference from the crowd, because he said, "It's like playing at the Anaheim old-folks home!" The crowd started responding a little more when the saxist from Catch 22 joined the band for a song.

At this time, I began to get impatient—and I still had three more bands to watch. I, along with the majority of the crowd, picked up magazines and started reading until Boys Night Out took stage. Coming from Canada, this band can be nothing else but some soft-core emotional men. With a melodic, fast-paced sound, the audience knew them well. Singing along and finally moving around with a lot more appreciation being expressed, this night was definitely for the boys! These Canadians were much better than their openers...however, not as exciting as Catch 22.

With the last two bands left, I was really hoping that I will at least start enjoying myself...but with Slick Shoes on next, my enjoyment had to wait. I'm not a fan of the band, but, honestly, they were not as bad as when I saw them open up for The Mighty Mighty Bosstones last year. I know my judgment is not quite fair, because the reactions from the audience told a different story, as they joined in with the lyrics, danced around in a circle, and called out for "one more song!" Slick Shoes left the stage without playing one more song, but gladly signed ticket stubs from the fans in the crowd. I noticed that a lot of heads left after Slick Shoes finished—and Catch 22 definitely noticed that as well.

Also a New Jersey band, Catch 22 is one of the last few ska bands on the planet right now. That sucks, because ska bands have no choice but to have a bunch of sucky rock bands open up for them. The scarcity of it really makes wonder why ska bands don't join forces with each other and start a union! Anyways, Catch 22 was great. The vocalist expressed his sense of musical knowledge, tracing down to the roots of ska punk music by wearing a Bad Brains T-shirt. Not a lot of people know about Bad Brains, so it was cool that he showed his love for the band in a simple way. The rest of the show was a "sing-along" affair, mixed with sporadic mosh-pit activity. Being six members strong, they filled the stage with confidence and pride, as they carried themselves with enthusiasm. The sweet sounds of free-flowing reggae mixed with uplifting dub combined with soft rock truly describes their charismatic sound. Dropping heavy bass lines and rolling horns together with racy vocals is for their musical talent. It was funny that when some people were leaving the show the singer acknowledged their exit on the microphone. He was saying, "Goodbye. Hope you had a great time!" And the people who were leaving really couldn't understand what he actually meant. I noticed that the show was rather empty now, but it didn't stop the fans from getting what they could from Catch 22. Singing songs from their new album DINOSAUR SOUNDS, as well as mixing in old songs from their previous releases, collectively, all the songs sounded the same. Even though I don't mind that at all, I purposely had to mention something about the similarity between each song, anyways. Besides that, I was utterly excited when they kept on playing when the lights came on in the venue. Concluding the show with ska-filled emotions and rock-filled energy, Catch 22 is the next best-selling novel at your local music store!

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JAMISON PARKER
MURDER BY DEATH
THE NEW AMSTERDAMS
STRAYLIGHT RUN
November 6, 2003 @ Chain Reaction (Anaheim, CA)
By Todd Markel

Jamison Parker is Jamison Covington and Parker Case. They are a couple of bright-faced young guys who, after exchanging demos by mail, decided that they could make beautiful music together. Many of their songs have a jangley acoustic sound that had most of the crowd singing and dancing along. In fact The band seemed really surprised by how many people seemed to know their songs and were singing along. Helping out on this tour is drummer Jarrod Alexander and bassist Ted Vega. Together, they play some great catchy songs about relationships and love—you know, stuff like that. Among the songs I recall them playing are "Home", "Dear Everybody", and "Dead to the World". Parker commented that this show was sort of a record-release party, since it was their first show since their new EP, NOTES & PHOTOGRAPHS, came out. You can listen to streaming audio of their EP at www.jamisonparker.com.


Jamison Parker

Once and a while you go to a show and are completely blown away by a band that you've never heard of before. Well, this is what happened tonight—and I know I wasn't the only one to be affected this way by Bloomington, IN's Murder By Death. They first thing I happened to notice when they were setting up was that there is a cute girl in the band who plays an electric cello...and who is this little kid playing the keyboard? Well, they soon just blew away me and most of the venue. Their new CD is called WHO WILL SURVIVE AND WHAT WILL BE LEFT OF THEM? It is a story about revenge and the Devil wiping a small Western town off the map. They started off with the first song off the CD, "The Devil in Mexico", and right away I knew that they were different. They sounded like a full orchestra at times, with many different layers of sound. The audience seemed surprised, as well, yelling things out like, "You guys rock!" They continued telling their tale with "Until moral improves the beatings will continue", and then with a song that singer Adam Turla introduced as "a song about Zombies" called "Killbot 2000". It starts off sounding a little like Steely Dan meets E.L.O. Next time they come through town, check out Murder By Death. In the meantime, go to their Website at www.murderbydeath.com.


Murder by Death

Next up was The New Amsterdams. I'm expecting a full band, but only one guy comes out, who says "Hi, I guess I'm The New Amsterdams." As it turns out, this is Matt Pryor, who is also the frontman for The Get Up Kids—The New Amsterdams being his side project (where he can be a "total dictator"). In the past he has been backed by a band for The New Amsterdams, but for some reason tonight he's doing a solo acoustic set. After breaking a string during the first song and having to borrow a guitar from Jamison Parker, Matt then proceeded to engage the crowd in a intimate, powerful unplugged show. At one point he asked the crowd if they liked cover songs, and someone yelled out the name of a song by The Get Up Kids. He laughed and said he wouldn't be playing any of those songs tonight, then he played a great acoustic version of Outkast's "Hey Ya". He also played a number of songs off his new CD, WORST FOR THE WEAR. Check out The New Amsterdams at www.newams.net.

The headliner for the night was Straylight Run, featuring former members of Taking Back Sunday John Nolan, and Shaun Cooper, and John's beautiful sister Michelle Nolan on backing vocals, piano, and guitar. My first impression might be to call them lounge music, but then they got into some very deep, emotional songs with heavy, poetic lyrics. An example from "The Tension and the Terror": "A look, a laugh, a smile / A second passes by and I regret it." At one point, John traded places with his sister and played a little piano, while Michelle strummed the guitar for one song. The crowd seemed to really be into them, but I have to admit that halfway through their set is when I took my cue to check out the merch booths and leave to find my truck. For more info on Straylight Run, go to their Website at www.straylightrun.com.

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RANCID
TIGER ARMY
November 9, 2003 @ the Wiltern Theater (Hollywood, CA)
Text and Photos by Annette Ovanessian

I'd seen Rancid many times before, but this night was like the very first. My heart was filled with excitement and power once I walked into the sold-out show at the Wiltern Theater. I smelled Rancid, I felt Rancid, and I was Rancid every minute of the way.

Every time I turned my head, there was a multicolored Mohawk overpowering the airspace above. There were Mohawks on a lot of ladies, too. The wardrobe description would look like your typical punk show attire, but since Rancid's playing, "Why not overdo it!" Let's all wear torn, faded black jeans with black Converse shoes. And let's all wear the sweater with all the patches about to fall off. And let's wear all my silver jewelry in every hole in my body!

I quickly got my photo pass and mingled with some friends before the amazing Tiger Army took stage. All photo press had to be escorted one level above the pit to take pictures. That sucked. Usually, barricade access can reward you with better shots, but with limitations, it's hard. That's not all, though! A special thanks goes out to Barbara Streisand for falling down and breaking her leg while a mob of photographers flashed her eyes out. Now, using flash is prohibited. Wait! There's the infamous three-song rule: no more picture taking after three songs. On a brighter note, Tiger Army was fucking awesome! The band holds a completely stylish and different sound, using instruments like a stand-up bass to enhance their unique essence. The band's image is that of tattooed rockabilly punk rockers, and their music is a punk-filled harmony with smoothed out protest vocals. Just like Rancid, Tiger Army delivers a special kind of an impression on you. Too bad I could only see half of their set due to another photo-pass issue. Now I had to trust the office workers at the Wiltern Theater with my very expensive cameras, because after the three songs were up, you couldn't walk around with your cameras in your hand.

I went by myself, so I was just kind of hanging around in the corners scoping out the scene while I was waiting for Rancid to bless the stage. After 20 minutes dragged by, I had to report to the P.R. lady to ESCORT us to the photo area AGAIN. This time I was going to haul my ass by snapping away for the next three songs. I almost died. A ton of hardcore Rancid fans thought it was cool to jump over a bunch of innocent photographers with expensive cameras just to get into the pit. There goes half of "Ruby Soho" without any pictures. If anybody knows Rancid, it's me. They have really short songs, so I had to work some miracle here. Snapping away and away, before I knew it I was being tapped on my back to get out. So now I checked in my shit at the office and ran back to the front to get my full view. That was a bad idea. Of course, I ended up being an innocent victim in a violent mosh pit. I needed to be saved. A nice, young gentleman guided me out of there quickly before I got socked in the face. I finally found my spot right on the side of the barricades, so now I was in a comfortable, full view. Wow! Rancid is literally amazing in an effortless way—first, by talent; second, by style. Tim and Lars are mighty hot meat on the market now that they are both single! Beyond their incredible attractiveness, the talent they disport makes them even more appetizing. The audience went wild and crazy, loudly singing along with all the songs the band played. With incredible love and devotion to their own music, Rancid threw their affection straight into the hearts of the audience. They sang a mixture of songs from all their albums, surprisingly singing "Fall Back Down" in the middle of their set instead of at the end. If you saw Rancid at the Warped Tour this year, you would have figured that they would bring out the hunk Skinhead Rob from The Transplants to rap his verse from "Red Hot Moon". The next exciting thing that happened on stage was when Tim took off his shirt. When he came out shirtless, you could finally hear the ladies in the audience! The colors on stage stood out refreshingly, using Rancid's bright-red album cover background with glowing yellow lights. Lars matched the background wearing a bright red jumpsuit with the words "sex" and "violence" written on the front. With a loud and clear voice, Lars took time out to introduce the band to the audience. Labeling Matt Freeman the best bass player in the world and naming Tim Armstrong his best friend in the whole wide world, it's no wonder all their works have been a match sent from heaven. After ending the show suddenly, they of course had no choice but to come out for an encore. They extended the last song, "Time Bomb", so every one could release the last bit of punk-rock energy into the mosh pit before they bounced. Closing the show with a look of appreciation and pleasure, Rancid kissed me goodnight and left me feeling orgasmic.

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BRAND NEW
HOT ROD CIRCUIT
EISLEY
Nov. 14, 2003 @ the Scene (San Diego, CA)
By Brian Spiegel

It's hard to put a label on the kind of music Brand New plays. Thanks to a recent summertime jaunt with Dashboard Confessional, some might call their music emo. Or maybe, because of their edge, some might call them screamo (even though they don't actually scream). One could also pay attention to their Long Island hardcore roots with such bands as Glassjaw, The Movielife, and Taking Back Sunday (with which the media has christened a rivalry that simply does not exist) and go as far as to call them a hardcore band. So what are they? Hardcore? Emo? Screamo? Hardscreamo? Whatever—I'll just call them Brand New, quite possibly the best band of 2003. What Brand New lacks in easy classification, it makes up with in its ability to rock out. A classic double threat—great CDs and live shows—Brand New has an intensity and emotion that is rare in rock music today. After catching them only a few months earlier opening for Dashboard Confessional, Brand New came back to the area to play the Scene in San Diego. In their 90-minute, headlining set, the band was able to branch out a bit and play not only favorites, but also lesser-knowns from their two superb albums, YOUR FAVOURITE ENEMY and DEJA ENTENDU.

Opening the show was the Texas-based band Eisley. Frankly, I just fell in love with this band from the first note. This family foursome (not in that way you pervert) were fresh off the road opening for Coldplay in places like the Hollywood Bowl and other giant venues, yet they fit perfectly in a smaller venue like this. The band began their five-song set with the hauntingly beautiful "The Winter Song". The band has a sort of soft, almost bohemian feel to it, sort of like The Dixie Chicks meet Cat Power. The three sisters (Chauntelle, Sherri, and Stacy) share vocal duties, the pure beauty of their harmonies reminiscent of The Cardigans. Most of the songs came from their new EP MARVELOUS THINGS, a fabulous record that sounds great live.

Hot Rod Circuit was the "sandwich band" (in the middle of the show—get it?) of the evening. The band has a bit of a The Get Up Kids feel to them, with a more complex sound then you would expect from an "emo" (damn classifications!) band. The sound varied from song to song, sometimes relying on heavy keys, at others having a bright, very light feel to them. Overall, I was much more impressed than I thought I would be.

Brand New began their set in a sea of fog and lasers as the first chords to "Okay I Believe You, but My Tommy Gun Don't" echoed out of the speakers. It's nice to see a band depend on a backlit scene instead of standard lights. Throughout the bands 90-minute/15-song set, the lighting (to which lead singer Jesse Lucey had given props in a pre-show interview) added a new layer to every song, and the effect of the backlit band members lent an eerie feel that went well with many of the newer songs. The set hit stride on "I Will Play My Game Beneath the Spin Light", an acoustic guitar-driven song that kind of sounds like mad Bob Dylan singing about an act of mayhem that he was gleefully proud of. A few songs later, the band pulled out their greatest weapon, a sped up version of the breakup anthem "Jude Law and a Semester Abroad". The intensity of this song is amazing, and it probably elicited the biggest response of the night, with 500 people screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs. It was a proud therapy moment that made the need for Prozac or other medication woefully unnecessary...at least for one evening. After playing the last part of their set (which included the hit "The Quiet Things that No One Ever Knows", another fan favorite), the band took an encore break before coming out to play an acoustic version of their sing-along hit "Soco Amaretto Lim" and their wonderfully creepy "Sic Transit Gloria...Glory Fades", a song that is dark and disturbing, yet totally rocking. "Sic Transit…" is about a boy who loses his virginity to a slightly more-experienced girl. Interpretations are welcomed, but it seems that the girl has forced herself upon the guy. Regardless of your interpretation, it's a wonderful song and a great way to finish the show.

After the sing-along had stopped and the T-shirts have been bought, the fact remains that the kids tonight had seen three great bands that are, in some way or another, the future of rock.

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HELLCAT RECORDS TOUR:
RANCID
TIGER ARMY
ROGER MIRET AND THE DISASTERS
November 16, 2003 @ Roseland (New York, NY)
By Janelle Jones

This show had been sold out for a while, and with good reason: it was Rancid's first time back to New York since they played Roseland in 2000. But just promoting their self-titled fifth studio album is as good a draw as any. Add to this the fact that as supporting acts they enlisted the more-popular-than-I-had-imagined, purveyors of psychobilly insanity Tiger Army and NYC's own Roger Miret, that hero of hardcore who has dabbled in streetpunk/Oi! while fronting his side project The Disasters.

I knew that Rancid would headline, but I didn't have any idea about the rest of the order. I had this crazy notion that Tiger Army would open, followed by Roger Miret and the Disasters. This turned out to be foolish on my part, for, as influential and legendary a figure as Roger is (he fronts the groundbreaking NYHC band Agnostic Front), he and his brethren were relegated to the first slot. No matter, however, as they blazed through much of their wonderful, self-titled debut release on Hellcat. Granted, the first half of their set essentially follows the record's track listing, but the four-piece simply brings so much energy to the stage that it's infectious. Yet movement amongst the crowd was almost nonexistentæso minimal, in fact, that Roger had to demand the formation of a circle pit. Still, the band forged on, playing tunes like the opener "Run Johnny Run", "Radio, Radio" (which they appropriately dedicated to Rancid), and the unsurpassable "Boys Will Be Boys", which is highlighted by shouts of "boots and braces!" and a mid-song chant of "ole ole ole ole." Damn, that song is good. Their sound is rather rough streetpunk, and Roger's signature tough vocals/snarls sound great in this medium: they're gritty and sometimes out of tune, only adding character to songs that primarily deal with life on the streets, fighting, and rebellion. The guys also played a Clash cover as an homage to Joe Strummer (something they've done at every show I've witnessed so far), this time in the form of "Career Opportunities". And could Roger get through a set without breaking out an Agnostic Front tune? Nah. Instead of the mainstay "Crucified", they cranked out "Gotta Go", which had us singing along. What else could we do? And, as always, they concluded with their riotous rendition of Cock Sparrer's "England Belongs to Me", retitling it "New York Belongs to Me", a fitting tribute to the World Trade Center.

The country music blaring through the sound system signaled the commencement of Tiger Army's set. When the trio assumed their positions, the crowd went crazy, proving that many have embraced TA's spin on the psychobilly phenomenon. Opening with "True Romance" from 1999's self-titled debut, they pummeled through furiously quick songs off that record and its follow-up, II: THE POWER OF MOONLITE. The deep, slapping bass lines of Geoff Kresge (whose glistening ivory stand-up bass, though quite stunning, cannot compare with labelmates Nekromantix's coffin-shaped beauty) resonated throughout Roseland. With the aid of Fred Hell, who is back after being shot four times in March (the man has a bullet permanently lodged in his brain), pumped out gloriously dark rhythms highlighted by guitarist/vocalist Nick 13's croons and campy B-movie imagery. For this being their first time on the road since January, TA sounded damn good—and, fittingly, were well received by the crowd.


Tiger Army

Rancid always puts on a killer live show, and this night was no different. And for as "into it" as the crowd was for Tiger Army, it was nothing compared to their reaction to these punk veterans. From the first few songs to the very last encore, there were crowd-surfing and pits galore. Early offerings included "Ruby Soho"æperhaps their most well known composition to dateæand "Maxwell Murder", both from the tour de force …AND OUT COME THE WOLVES. Other highlights from that record included "Listed M.I.A.", "She's Automatic", "Lock, Step & Gone", and guitarist/vocalist Lars Frederiksen's affecting "The Wars End". Lars also strutted his stuff on "To Have and to Have Not" (from his side project Lars Frederiksen and the Bastards), as well as some new ones off Rancid's latest INDESTRUCTIBLE—which. by the way, sounded great live, including the brutal "Out of Control" and rabble-rousing "David Courtney". We got some ska via a new one, "Red Hot Moon", and, of course, with that old radio staple "Time Bomb". Longtime fans' memories were ignited when "Nihilism" and "Salvation" were played, those two greats off 1994's landmark album LET'S GO. Meanwhile, guitarist/vocalist Tim Armstrong, sporting his bowler and leather jacket, went topless sometime around mid-set (perhaps for the ladies). In any event, they even went way back into the vaults for a great performance of "Hyena" (from their first LP), which opens with a memorable, ominous bass line from the masterful Matt Freeman. Hey, who am I kidding? ALL of this guy's bass stylings are tremendous. Likewise, the great guitar interplay from Tim and Lars is one of the band's greatest assets, as is the frequent vocal-swapping between the two. Tim's vocals live are just as garbled and slightly inarticulate as they are on record, while Lars's are more tuneful and clear. Rancid had to pummel through at least 20 songs before leaving the stage, only to come back once again for a couple more—namely, "Olympia WA" and the finale "Radio", another crowd-pleaser.


Rancid

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DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE
NADA SURF
November 16, 2003 @ The Scene (San Diego, CA)
Text by Tiffany Chow
Pictures by Eric Lawson

It is not particularly common to have lines wrapped around the venue at shows in the indie scene. It is also not common to see a wide range of ages and styles in the scene, as usually everyone appears to be cut from the same cookie-cutter, all the way from the hair down to the shoes. So when both of these irregularities occur on the same night, you know something worthwhile must be happening. This was certainly the case on this night. The crowd was a mixture of old and young, scene and non-scene, diehard and green fans. Crowds of people without pre-bought tickets were turned away.

In the SKRATCH interview I got to conduct with Death Cab for Cutie's lead singer/guitarist Ben Gibbard awhile ago, he told me he was excited that the only band opening for them on tour would be Nada Surf. Not only is Nada Surf highly praised and well-liked, they have been making good indie pop/rock tunes for awhile, even having a popular radio hit in the '90s, "Popular" (ironic, since it's their only hit). Unlike most bands, they opened with a very mellow tune, with each song following being more poppy and upbeat than the last. If you have not heard Nada Surf before, they sound like a smooth blend of Death Cab for Cutie and The Promise Ring, with melodic and poppy tunes accompanied by friendly vocals. When Nada Surf began playing, the crowd was still relatively small. Halfway through their half-hour set, the place was packed. Nada Surf was the perfect band to open for DCFC on this tour. I think most of the crowd would agree with me.


Death Cab for Cutie

After a surprisingly (but fortunately) short waiting period after Nada Surf left the stage, the four-piece indie-rock pioneers Death Cab for Cutie took the stage, welcomed by cheers and applause from the excited crowd. Opening with an older track, "Title Track" (off of WE HAVE THE FACTS AND WE'RE VOTING YES), the crowd knew that DCFC's set was going to be a satisfying range of old and new songs. However, despite the ability of the band, the performance sounded terrible. The sound guy was not doing a very good job mixing the instruments at all, as the bass overpowered everything the entire night. DCFC still performed amazingly well despite this setback. Clear from the very beginning was the knowledge that DCFC was surely going to please its fans. With only one opening band, they played for over an hour-and-a-half, totaling about 16 or 17 songs, old and new. Some crowd favorites were "We Laugh Indoors" (track 3 off of THE PHOTO ALBUM) and "405", which they saved to play for their encore. One highlight of the evening was a genuine trip-up on the part of Gibbard. During "Title and Registration" (one of the well-loved songs from the new album TRANSATLANTICISM), he joined the drummer to uphold the beats in the song by playing on two drum pads that had been situated next to his microphone. Not far into the song, he lost rhythm completely—much to the surprise of himself, the band, and the audience. Shaking it off with a nervous laugh, he got back on track, and they finished the song strongly. After completing the song, he voiced his disappointment in himself, stating, "You'd think that muscle memory would kick in after all this time." Bandmate Chris comforted him from behind the keyboard, saying, "If it had to do with muscle memory, I'd be able to play 'Stairway to Heaven' by now!" This sort of dry and soft-spoken humor continued throughout their set, as the audience looked on in awe.


Nada Surf

Death Cab for Cutie surely deserves the awe they instill in their fans, as each member jumped from instrument to instrument throughout the night, displaying their prolific talents in music. Nada Surf, despite their talent and popularity, truly was JUST an opening band on this tour, as the crowd's dedication and devotion to Death Cab for Cutie made clear. Surely this band inspires unusual occurrences; but with their talent and natural inclination for creativity, it's only to be expected.

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The Carriers
Apollo Sunshine
The Killingtons
The Anniversary
November 18, 2003 @ Chain Reaction (Anaheim, CA.)
By Ian Wilkins

Skip this review. There is not a lot I can say about this night to make it even remotely interesting to read. If you continue to read this, then you accept responsibility for your loss of brain cells.

I have learned from past excursions to Chain Reaction to start carrying a flask in the bag of tricks. On this fantastic night I, of course, forgot it at the damn house. Promptly after signing my speeding ticket and parking my car, I had the guy at will call inform me that there were to be no in-and-outs for me this evening. Usually I like to go outside and meet the band members, maybe jot down some names, but that was not to be on this night. As I walked through the doors, I had the feeling that if I backed up I might suffer tire damage. Before I go on, let me take this opportunity to say that the girl working the candy stand was an absolutely huge help. Thanks for helping me stash my bag (of writing stuff, damn).

The best band of the evening was The Carriers...and that's not saying a whole lot. It was two guys who both looked like the missing link (links, in this case). Coming straight out of Colorado, they both had the appearance of not having slept since they partook on this journey. As they took the stage, one could not help notice the giant movie screen set up behind them. Lights dim, the crowd noise dwindles to a mere hush, and then...and then...and then you witness pure, unadulterated insect porn. I'm talking two snails doing the nasty on a 7' x 7' screen. My horror soon turned into respect for that male snail—he had some serious determination. The Carriers might have been a lot better if their drum machine wasn't louder than the vocals. They sounded (as I was to soon find out) just like everybody else in the venue. Sounds weren't up to par, and everything seemed really flat. One thing they did have that nobody else did was creativity—and that goes far. If they were to focus their abilities in other ways, they might have something.

Is it anticipation or is it boredom? It's boredom when you have to wait 20 minutes for a band to get their gear onto the stage. If it's The Vandals, fine—that's anticipation. If it's Apollo Sunshine, it's the latter. What is it with the leisure suits nowadays? I had to wear one when I was eight to a school picture, and it was hell then. Have they suddenly made a comfortable one? And what's the point of wearing one if your going to strip down to a T-shirt by the second song? (Unless you are just showing that you're cool enough to pull off the look.) Since the show started a half-hour late, that meant I only had to listen to a half an hour of new wave meets country. I did feel bad for the band because during their set Chain Reaction had the house music still going. If your into long, drawn-out music, check these guys out.

What is worse than waiting for the band? A band that sounds like everybody else. How exciting is that? Not very—and that is what I thought of The Killingtons. Wish I had more, but I don't. It was a total let-down. I had heard from plenty of people that The Killingtons were the shit—but were they? No. Between songs they decided to take at least five minutes to make sure everything was in key. For god's (or whatever's) sake, how long are we suppose to wait for some music?! People were here for a show. Can we get one?!

Headliner time. Does it suck? Yes. It was slow, it had no potential...Why am I stuck listening to it? Why? 'Cause of you, my fine folks: I am here listening to crap for you. The Anniversary had the same thing to offer as the three bands before them: a bunch of nothing. The guitar solos were all ones I have heard before; and the only person who complained more than the singer was perhaps me. But then again, I wasn't asking the crowd what was wrong between songs.


The Anniversary

Overall, it was a sad night for music. If you concentrate more on how you look than how you sound, then it makes you a model, not a musician — and you might want to start learning how to walk the runways.

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Hidden in Plain View
Copeland
Count the Stars
The Early November
November 21, 2003 @ Chain Reaction (Anaheim, CA)
By Eric Lawson

It had been over a year since I had last seen The Early November play, and I was a little surprised by the difference in the crowd from last year. It seemed as if I had gotten a year older and everybody else had gotten two years younger. I guess saying I was surprised by this might be a bit of an overstatement, considering that the target demographic of all Drive-Thru Records bands seems to be 14-year-old girls, but that's a different story. After suffering through many conversations in line with girls quizzing me about whether I like Tora Tora Torrance or The Rocket Summer, Chain Reaction opened its doors almost an hour late (as usual) and the crowd started filing in.

The first band, Hidden in Plain View, came on after ANOTHER hour of soundchecks. It seemed like I'd forgotten what it's like going to pop-punk shows, but the lead singer had no problem reminding me. From the first crash of a cymbal until the end of the their last song, Joe Reo was in constant motion. He showed the passion of a singer who knew that he was lucky to be on a tour at all, as did the rest of the band. Guitarist/back-up vocalist Rob Freeman was constantly perched on the edge of the monitor leaning out over the crowd trying to get the crowd into it. Their first two songs were very strong, and it seemed like it was going to be a promising set. Alas, all was not well. At the start of their third song, lead singer Joe screamed out to the crowd, "You all know this song. I want you to sing along!" From what I could see on stage, I knew that the band was playing, but all I seemed to hear was a giant wall of distortion. It seemed all the instruments had blended into one giant mass, rendering the song indecipherable. Even the die-hard Hidden in Plain View fans had no clue what was going on. I don't even think the sound guy knew what was going on (but do they ever?). Eventually, lyrics could be heard, and the crowd went merrily on their singing way. Two more songs and the set was over, and the crowd was anxiously awaiting the appearance of Copeland.


Hidden in Plain View

It was obvious that Copeland had the largest number of supporters in the crowd, and you could feel the excitement building in the tiny room. Copeland came out and, with no words, went right into their first song. I was amazed at how similar they sounded to old Juliana Theory. Guitarist James Likeness lent perfect supporting vocals to the lyrics of lead singer Aaron Marsh, and they harmonized wonderfully. Copeland definitely mellowed the crowd down. Instead of pounding it out like Hidden in Plain View, they seemed like a band that was more apt to take their time and prove their talent to the audience. They were indeed very talented, proving that with the ballad "Walking Downtown", where they seemed to flow effortlessly through the verses and breakdowns (and once again it should be noted that the back-up vocals of the redheaded James Likeness were superb).

Count the Stars was the next band to come on stage, and they definitely brought the punk feeling back into the show. It wasn't just the fact that they looked the part (their bassist was sporting a mohawk and lip piercing), but their stage antics were, for lack of a better word, intense. It seems as if you couldn't keep these guys on the ground even if you tried, because gravity doesn't exist for them. The highlight of the set was "Taking It All Back". Just one listen to the song and you'll know what I mean when I say that they have perfected the art of the sing-along chorus. They kept playing their catchy tunes until it seemed like they were on the verge of collapsing.

Then it was time for The Early November. The first part of their set was some of the older songs, and it was obvious that The Early November was definitely a touring band, as they were the most polished in everything they did. They played their new single "Baby Blue" in the middle of the set, and that definitely got anybody who wasn't really paying attention into the show. After a few fast-paced songs, Ace Enders, the lead singer and the night's teen heartthrob, grabbed his acoustic and played a few songs by himself. If anybody in the room doubted the sincerity of Ace's lyrics, all doubts ended when he played "Ever So Sweet". The passion he put into that song was incredible. At times it seemed as if he was on the verge of tears. The band came back and played a few more songs with what seemed like a renewed source of energy.

As for the show as a whole, it is safe to say that any fan of pop-punk went home with a smile on their face thanks to Count the Stars and The Early November.

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