MARCH 2004 Show Reviews

FINGERS CUT MEGAMACHINE
THE RED LIGHT STING
THIRD DAY PROMISE
THE MR T EXPERIENCE
January 18, 2004 @ Chain Reaction (Anaheim, CA)
Text and photos by Todd Markel

I knew something wasn't quite right when I got to Chain Reaction. The parking lot was near empty. "What's up with this," I say to myself, "this is The Mr. T Experience, The East Bay's best-loved, longest-running pop-punk band." Once inside, I can see that empty lot means empty venue. Well, maybe the crowd will arrive a little later. It can't be all that bad: the latest issue of SKRATCH has been delivered. So I stake out my spot in front of the stage (which wasn't a problem, since I was the only one doing so), read SKRATCH, and waited for the fun to begin. The opening act was a band called Fingers Cut MegaMachine. Lead singer Devon Williams was formally in the band Osker. They played a great folksy acoustic/electric set reminiscent of Van Morrison meets Donovan. A number of songs they played had a twangy country sound to them. Their lead guitarist nicely filled this sound out with his clean, haunting guitar licks. They played a song called "Laughs per Minute", which I wouldn't be surprised to hear on KROQ, as it was very radio-friendly and catchy. Devon sings with almost a British accent in his voice. I liked them a lot, and they were well received by the ¾-empty club.

Next, we went from one genre of music to the complete opposite. >From Vancouver, BC, a hardcore—or, as some might call them, heartcore—band called The Red light Sting. They had a female keyboardist (which seems like a trend lately) named Zoe, who just about blew eardrums with her high frequencies. (It was at this time that I realized I didn't have my earplugs with me.) Their backbeat was harder than Jack White pounding on Jason Strollsteimer. They had a much more original sound than the usual screamo bands and some funky bass lines that had their lead singer dancing around the stage like an Indian rain dance. They seemed a little out of place in this lineup, but I could see them going over well playing with bands such as The Bled, A Fall Farwell, or A Static Lullaby.

Third Day Promise was the next band slated to appear. By their name, I was expecting a Christian rock band, but I was wrong: they are a female-fronted pop-punk band. Lead singer Audrey Seiberling does a good job of leading her group through punk rock sing-alongs, such as "Not the Hero". I enjoyed their set, they were good, but I couldn't help but be reminded of a local band nights at Chain Reaction. I got the feeling that all the fans up front bopping along were personal friends of the band—not that there's anything wrong with that. Keep an eye on them, because they do have the potential for much more.

The club is still looking about half-full by this point, and I'm expecting to see A Futile Xistence play next. I notice that one guy in the band setting up looks strangely familiar. Duh—it's Doctor Frank of The Mr. T Experience. I think he's sensing right away that this is not going to be a good night. They started off with "She's Not a Flower" off of their latest CD, YESTERDAY RULES (which just came out on Lookout Records on January 13th). Next they played "Book of Revelation" from 1992's MILK, MILK LEMONADE. After three songs, Dr. Frank says, "Well, we made it through three songs without anything bad happening." He also commented that "I don't remember the last time we played here, but I'm guessing we didn't do so good." They did have a number of die-hard fans up front showing their love, but I just wasn't FEELING IT. They showcased a number of songs off of the new CD, and then they finished their set with "Love American Style" and with "We'll get by" from their 1999 Lookout release, ALCATRAZ. Not a good night for MTX, but not from a lack of material, as their new CD has some great songs. I think they could have benefited from another Lookout Records-type band on the bill with a little drawing power of their own; and the diverse lineup didn't help.

I did find out that A Futile Xistence's no-show might be attributed to them breaking up. Their Website says the band will be playing one last show on March 5th at the Showcase Theater in Corona.

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DEAD KENNEDYS
DAMNATION
PLAY PRETTY FOR BABY
BAD SAMARITANS
TERMINAL HOLOCAUST
January 24, 2003 @ Malibu Inn (Malibu, CA)
By Ian Wilkins

Hey, it's me again! Have you missed me? Grab your long board, dude, 'cause it's time for…Dead Kennedys in Malibu.

The Malibu Inn—ever heard of it? Neither have I. It reminds me of the House of Blues meets Frankie Avalon. A quick warning to all with a limp: the only parking they have is a tiny lot which is comparable to a Burger King bathroom. You are going to have to park on PCH, so plan on walking a marathon. But when you finally do get inside you will have your choice of three fully-stocked bars.

Terminal Holocaust is a band straight out of my fucking nightmares. No rhythm, no rhyme—in fact, a big waste of my time. And by no rhythm, I mean these guys probably couldn't even take a fucking piss because their timing was so off. Even punk has somewhat of a groove, but these guys could not even make a scratch.

Bad Samaritans, on the other hand, is a band that really had me shitting myself in euphoria. Although I personally feel the singer is carrying the band, I must say the drummer was no slouch. In fact, their shit was as tight as an asshole with some Preparation H. If you feel like having a good time, then you might want to mosey on down to their next show.

The only thing bad about Play Pretty for Baby was the name. This band is quite a step up from the run-of-the-mill punk band. They have originality in a world of followers. With some mind-bending lyrics, blaring guitars, and plenty of head-ripping drum fills, it gave me a new outlook on the future of punk, my brothers and sisters. I can feel a revolution coming on. Be a part of it, and join the collaboration of Play Pretty for Baby. Can I get an Amen?

Damnation is a band that I've liked for some time now, and tonight I was not let down. In fact, I felt like I was lifted from my tight-ass BVDs by Mr. T. I like fast music, and tonight I saw some good old running-man shit (not the movie, but some chubby-chick-on-the-dance-floor-type shenanigans. Need I say more? No, I don't think so, 'cause I got a boner to start the DK portion of this little bedtime story.

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away, there lived a little boy who dreamed of seeing Dead Kennedys. Okay, I am that little boy, and I have seen them enough times to know that they are beyond the fucking shit. Jeff Penalty, the new lead singer, is the best thing to happen to the band since "California Uber Alles". Peligro is the Mozart of the drums, Klaus is fucking insane, and East Bay Ray is still my idol. After running to the bathroom to put on my Depends because I was pissing in my pants, I made it back in time to see the band take the stage. The crowd is going nuts, I am going nuts, you are going nuts, all of God's children are going fucking nuts. I had myself quite a chuckle when one of the fine idiots in the pit asked for a drum stick during the first song and Jeff so eloquently announced, "Why don't you wait 'til we finish playing? We kind of need them." (Oh yeah, that was basically the mentality for the entire crowd for the evening, just in case you were wondering.) Dead Kennedys must have read my mind, because they played all my favorites: "Too Drunk to Fuck", "Kill the Poor", "Let's Lynch the Landlord"—and yes, you stupid fucks, "Holiday in Cambodia" (I'm just kidding, you're not a bunch of stupid fucks). They played two encores, but I was wasted out of my mind at that point and can't really remember what they were. Sorry, momma, I will try harder next time.

The whole evening was basically a musical masterpiece, except for one band—but hey, let's leave the past behind us and focus on how great everything else was. The beer was ice-cold, the three bands before DK were great, and, fuck, what do you think I'm going to say? Dead Kennedys were fucking awesome. Hey, I was just kidding about the encore, but I don't really want to tell you what the songs were right now. E-mail me at fortydosdegrees@yahoo.com and I might tell you. (Damn, don't you hate it when you burn your thumb on your lighter?). Fun supplied by Mr. Extra. Co-produced by Fred One.

The Junior Varsity
The Phoenix Rising
Glasseater
Three Words to Live By
January 25, 2004 @ the Metro (Chicago, IL)
By Jonathan Willoughby

Not knowing too much about the bands playing tonight, I basically came to the show with a blank slate. Of course they were bands I have heard about before, but ones that I never really had the chance to listen to. I met Chuck, the owner of British Records Corp.—which is the label The Junior Varsity is on. He got me everything I needed for tonight, so we were ready to rock. On entering the Metro, I received all my passes and went and got ready to shoot.

Please, Three Words to Live By, move around! Not to bust anyone's balls here, but man, this is a Metro show, guys! Next time swing something around, or just walk around a bit. Their music was a classic rock/punk/emo mix that was catchy at times. Three Words to Live By played very well, all in all. In the end, they made up for any stillness with a powerful set.

After talking with the guys in The Junior Varsity, I had the pleasure to see one of the great new hardcore bands around, Glasseater. Glasseater is like a punch in the gut. The way this group of guys play is the way hardcore should be. Taking the stage, they drove song after song like a railroad spike into the skulls of the audience. Sounding like a harder Thursday with more of a punk feel, they moved the crowd in a way that got everyone stoked. A great set was cut short by the singer's bronchitis, which I was surprised he even had. Great set, great sound, great performance.

The next band was The Phoenix Rising. As opposed to the hard sound of Glasseater, The Phoenix Rising had a light, poppy sound. No doubt they like to rock out, though. Most animated was the singer, who seemed to be everywhere on stage. Something about very still bassists tonight, though. I liked their sound and thought it was fun. Very catchy and poppy, which the crowd was really into.

I can't say enough good things about The Junior Varsity guys. They greeted me with open arms. I think it's important to anyone who goes to see a band that they be radical and personable. This is exactly how The Junior Varsity presented themselves. A great bunch of guys. The set they played is something to be proud of. Never a dull moment on stage. The Junior Varsity played their hearts out, and the crowd was always into it. Their sound is a balanced mix of some straight-up rock with a touch of synth every once in a while. I also appreciated the hard chug of the guitars and the breakdowns they throw in for good measure. Their set was the only way to end the night.

Leaving the show and walking to the car, I was happy I went to this show. I met a lot of great people and had a blast with some of the bands. Check them out. I was happy I did.

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TED LEO/PHARMACISTS
THE FIERY FURNACES
LUCKY JEREMY
January 29, 2004 @ the Casbah (San Diego, CA)
By David Small

It's shows like this that reconfirm my belief in showing up early to catch the opening bands. I'd never heard of Lucky Jeremy before this show. I now have his album, CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT…BUT THIS CITY IS MINE, and it's in heavy rotation when I'm in the mood for dancing alone in my room (which is quite frequent, being lonely and single). Not only does he rock, he's also freaking hilarious. He shows up in a skin-tight, red belly shirt. "The thing about wearing a shirt like this is, if you're good and everybody likes you, then it's funny; but if you suck, then you just look stupid and everyone thinks you're some kinda dick," he explained after introducing himself and the back-up band as "the California Party Girls." I think they're actually "the New Minneapolis" of "Lucky Jeremy and the New Minneapolis," but the name seemed appropriate. They weren't girls, or from California, but they WERE there to party. The lead guitarist was ridiculous. That guy must have spent some serious time alone in his room as a kid to write solos like that. Jeremy sang with great enthusiasm in his cute little outfit. The sound, in general, was probably the best I'd heard at the Casbah (which says a lot, because it always sounds good there). The drums were perfect. Bravo, sound guy! In an effort to fill time between songs—they only had nine to play, most from their new album—Jeremy talked a lot. He shamelessly advertised his CD, holding it up to his head and telling everyone to buy it; and complained that he hasn't seen enough reviews in SoCal. I thought I would do both. Buy his CD! Write good reviews about it! With the talent and moxie these chaps possess, they're bound to go far.

I was excited to see The Fiery Furnaces for the first time. Hopefully, they'll go far, like the other "supposed" brother/sister group, but without the obnoxious drama. I'd listened to some of their stuff I downloaded from the information superhighway after I was assigned the show, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I wanted to buy the CD, GALLOWSBIRD'S BARK, but my financial situation has not been secure enough for me to go anywhere near a record store lately. Luckily, shows are free when you write for SKRATCH, so I at least got to see them in person. They weren't in quite the same cheery spirit as Lucky Jeremy or Ted Leo, but when you're trapped in a van with your sister or brother for months at a time, I guess there's not too much to smile about—not to mention the fact that Eleanor is singing lyrics like "He beat me / He buried me / I wish I was single again" while every guy in the room stares at her. Having two sisters of my own, I imagine that would be more than a little awkward. Her voice is amazing, and her stage presence says, "Hey there, I'm intimidating, talented, and attractive, but I think we should hang out." Her voice is SO good, delivering her songs with intense stares, often kneeling down to be eye level with the audience and holding the mic with both hands like she's praying…but sexy praying. Her brother, Matt, played the Roland and Rhodes to perfection and rocked the house when he stood up to play his Telecaster on a couple tracks. He rocked that axe like the best of 'em, but with a serious I'm-only-doing-this-because-I-have-to-but-I-really-hate-being-a-so-cool look on his face. They played the popular Beatlesy duet, "Inca Rag", and most of the tracks from the GALLOWSBIRD'S BARK album. They've really got a great sound, but CHEER UP, guys—you're living the dream!

Next: Ted Leo/Pharmacists. That's all I need to say…but I imagine you'd all be pissed if I didn't write more. In typical Leo fashion, he was all smiles and how-do-you-dos. Ted (I can call him Ted because he said hello to me on the way in and we shared a moment) played a rad Epiphone hollow body, which he really laid into during his 10-minute encore rock-out jam. They only went outside for about 30 seconds before coming back in for the encore. He apologized to the crowd for the lack of suspense, explaining that it was a Thursday night and he didn't want to waste anyone's time with the usual egotistical pre-encore formality of going backstage and pretending you're not going to come back until you feel the sore-from-clapping crowd IS actually about to leave. In their set, Teddy and the Pharmacists played "Building Skyscrapers in the Basement", "Abner Louima v. Gov. Pete Wilson", and "Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?" from their new album; and "Biomusicology" and "Timorous Me" from TYRANNY OF DISTANCE. The band has been on the road pretty much all last year with their Hearts of Oak tour, and they'll continue trucking on the East Coast over the next few months before landing in the studio to lay down some new tracks for you and yours.

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TSOL
THE BRONX
RED TAPE
January 30, 2004 @ the Casbah (San Diego, CA)
By David Small

I've been to the Casbah countless times, but never on a night when they serve plastic cups instead of pint glasses and there are actually security guys in each corner. I guess the Casbah folks knew what kind of show it was going to be. I didn't know what to expect. TSOL nearly two decades after their prime…playing shows?

Just as I found Greg, the keyboardist from TSOL, to let me into the show, Red Tape started rocking. Starting with their very first song, they were full of energy, and more people started coming in from outside. Lead singer Jeff has an amazing voice. Singing with the bassist, the harmonies were very impressive. They sounded really tight. I could tell they'd been practicing their little Sacramento butts off for this tour. Keep an eye out for these cats. They definitely won't be opening for very long. In typical Casbah style, everyone stood six feet back from the stage and with hands in pockets until Jeff told the crowd to start moving. A few guys moshed for their last song, a meager tribute for such an energetic new band.

From their experience on the road, The Bronx's lead singer—whose voice is even better than on the record—knew how get this crowd moving. At first he stayed on the stage, glaring around the room with that creepy look like he was sizing us up. By the time the floor got packed, he walked into the crowd—with mic stand and all—and slowly started pushing everyone around, finally getting everyone to loosen up. The place finally started to look like a punk show, and the security finally had something to do. (I should give serious props to the Casbah's security, as they couldn't have been cooler, letting everyone do their own thing.) When he was actually ON the stage, he'd go from crouching down in front of the bass drum to leaning over the audience on a monitor to grabbing a guy in a headlock and driving the microphone into the side of his head as they both screamed the lyrics. He did this to everyone he saw singing along. F*cking cool? Methinks! From start to finish, The Bronx were so into it, which got the crowd into it, too.

By the time TSOL was up, the place was way too crowded, hot, and sticky. I think even the floor was sweating. When Jack Grisham walked on stage with his face painted, everyone went nuts. Wearing his patented pin-striped suit and black facepaint around his eyes and mouth, he had more stage presence than anyone I'd ever seen—even before he started to sing. The performance was incredible. They sounded just as good as they did 20 years ago. Of course, I didn't see them 20 years ago, but I can easily say they put on one of the best punk shows I've seen in my life. The usual trend is that when a band disappears for a while then returns with a triumphant new album, it sucks and everyone hates them for tainting their once-respectable memory. Jack joked about how nobody there had probably even heard anything off the new album, but everyone should, because they came back and can still kick the sh*t out of any punk band around today. They played a lot of off their new album, but they knew what the crowd wanted and played a bunch of old stuff, too. Between songs, he picked on their new drummer (who he simply introduced as "F*cking New Guy") and told jokes ranging from his failed attempt at becoming governor to sleeping with 16-year-old girls. His best line: "You're not f*cking punk until you've gone down on some 75-year-old lady whose stomach sags on the mattress while you're doing her doggy style." I got doused with beer by some moron trying to mosh with a beer in his hand during "Fuck You Tough Guy". Some of my best pictures have beer spots on them. Technically, that's pretty damn punk, but aesthetically it sucks. You have to expect sh*t like that to happen at a show like this, but I couldn't help get a little pissed, considering my cameras cost more than my f*cking car. One thing's for sure: this was definitely one of those shows where your girlfriend makes you shower before going to bed. Plus, two decades after their prime, TSOL proved they can still rock the f*cking Casbah.

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STRUNG OUT
ADOLESCENTS
THE FACTION
OFF THE RECORD
January 30, 2004 @ the Grove Theatre (Anaheim CA)
By Marcus Solomon

The Adolescents played a fucking ripping show that was so tight and on the mark that 20 years of waiting to hear this band live was well worth it. Supporting band The Faction also gave a great performance with its back-to-basics brand of vintage '80s power-chord skate punk. Oh yeah, and for the KROQ crowd, the headliner was Strung Out, and the opening band was called Off the Record. Kids, if you are a fan of either of the last two, sorry, but you might want to turn the page, because this old-school skate punk with a thesaurus does not relate to the new breed of pretty-boy, image-conscious, radio-product bands that claim to be punk rock. I was not alone in this assessment. After the Adolescents completed its tremendous set, the crowd did a complete flip-flop, with the old-school punks (and their kids) leaving the front for the influx of upper-middle-class white bros and their preppy blonde girlfriends. As I exited the building, I asked a young teenage kid in a wheelchair what he thought of the show. His reply was, "The Adolescents are the best!" Ah, yes, the wisdom of youth.

Situated in the shadow of Anaheim Stadium, the Grove Theatre is one of those nice venues that sort of makes me feel like a burglar in somebody's house. I read somewhere that the Disney Corp. sold the Grove Theatre to the city of Anaheim, thus increasing the weirdness factor. The city of Anaheim hosts punk-rock shows? Wow, times have really changed. Another strange thing was the nearly complete absence of people of color. Orange County is notoriously Republican, so perhaps the Office of Homeland Security was stopping blacks, browns, and yellows at the county line.

The opening band, Off the Record, was on stage as I arrived, but I thought the music was KROQ (or something of the sort) being piped through the Grove's PA system. While in the bathroom, I wondered aloud why they would play the same band over and over again. Off the Record was not bad, but it sounded like so much of everything else being played on "alternative" radio: poppy, crunchy, upbeat with contagious sing-along choruses. If you like Hot Topic and showing your punkness while hanging out at the mall, well, there ya go.

Once Off the Record got off the stage, skateboarding legend Steve Caballero and his band The Faction took control. Resurrecting the spirit of early-'80s skatepunk, Steve and the boys crunched through the set with power and style. The Faction is primarily stripped-down, power-chord chunkiness with the occasional slow to mid-tempo "Pete Shelleyish" solo leads. Nothing really fancy or new here, but just like a good frontside grind, it is pure, elemental, and a hell of a lot of fun. Steve really knows how to put those simple chords in the right places. He and the other three members put on a really good show that spotlighted a more innocent aspect of the genre. For example, consider the lyrics to the song "Let's Go Get Cokes": "Let's go get Cokes / 'Cause anything else will make me choke / 7-11 Gulps are the best / I won't settle for anything less / You can call it stupid, but I call it Zen brilliance." Did the band play "Skate and Destroy"? Of course, you dumbass!

Then it came time for the highlight of the evening: the Adolescents! "This is called 'Serenade in E'," Tony said over the opening notes of "No Way". My friend Cathy informed me that the song really is in the key of E. I turned to her and shouted, "No waaayyy!" directly into her face while in sync with Tony as he began the vocals. The band did most of the blue album (what else?), while the old punks and the new danced and slammed themselves silly to these punk-rock classics. Here is a partial chronological list of songs played: "Who Is Who", "Democracy", "Lockdown America" (a new one), "LA Girl", "Word Attack", "California Sun" (another new one), "Rip It Up". During the rendition of "LA Girl", Tony jumped over the stage barricade into the crowd. While supported by a small sea of delighted fans, Tony seemed amazed. I looked at his face projected on the big screen, and he was clearly reveling in this ecstatic morass he and friends had created. It was a look of joyful awe. Meanwhile, Steve Soto's flawless bass lines punctuated every note and seemed to come from somewhere deep inside my chest. We were also treated to "Creatures" and another new song called "Within These Walls". The band played a bit of a joke on Tony by suddenly starting "Amoeba" as he talking. "I would like to thank…" "AMOEBAAA!" Almost everyone was singing along, and it sounded like an evening with the Orange County Punk-Rock Chorus. This was all accentuated by the shredding metal leads that make every song glow. The steaming set ended with a rendition of "Kids of the Black Hole" that caused chills up and down my spine from start to finish. No encore, so it was time for the shift change.

We punk-rocker types gave way so the pretty boys who drive flashy trucks could get close to their favorite band, Strung Out. I don't like to say too many negative things…especially about anyone who can actually play an instrument. I prefer to listen to musicians that do not take themselves too seriously. Strung Out strikes me as a celebration of the ego—and the group does it well. Their fans enjoyed the show with much fervor while the rest of the world exited the building. I listened to three songs while wondering when the drummer would find the rhythm with his bass pedal. Since I could no longer relate, I decided I did not want to intrude on someone else's show, so I went home. Like Tony, I would like to thank Strung Out for inviting the Adolescents to play. I guess we have something in common, after all.

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Les Savy Fav
The Hold Steady
The Fire Ups
January 31, 2004 @ NorthSix (Brooklyn, NY)
By Pham Wolfe

"Can't a girl get a coke around here?" "You know, coke isn't good for you. The next day you feel like ass. If you need a good lift, you should really use crystal meth. More of a kick and less repercussions the next day." "Ummm...okay. I was talking soda, not drugs, but thanks. You were very informative." Thus began my descent into the seedy world of sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll. Even in the pretentious work of Brooklyn hipsters—the land of the fur-collared jackets, striped shirts, and metrosexuals—you can still find the obligatory couple coming out of the bathroom together, clothes askew—and not because they heard the beginning of Les Savy Fav, either. If I need to spell it out to you, folks, you shouldn't be reading this magazine. Go back to your HIGHLIGHTS or RANGER RICK. So there you have it, my good readers, the sex and the drugs part. Now I will give you the rock 'n' roll.

I was still awaiting the arrival of my SODA when The Fire Ups began their set. They were amazing! I got whiplash from looking away from the bar so quickly. With a strong vocal performance belted out by their female frontman mixed with the band's loud, antagonizing beats, their sound is comparable to The Yeah Yeah Yeahs'. The Fire Ups are a great band to listen to when you're driving somewhere, and either a. you know you'll be stuck in traffic and need to keep your energy up, or b. you're dreading your destination and need a reason to keep your mind off your family reunion. This 100% kick-ass band is sure to get you moving. Although listening to them in the car is fantastic, you really do need to see them live to appreciate this up-and-coming band.

The Hold Steady is a Brooklyn-based rock band that, unfortunately, I managed to miss some of their set, as I spent some of the time vomiting in the bathroom. But I can tell you that what I did see rocked hard! The Hold Steady have a fantastic stage presence that kept me entertained despite my delirium and need for my bed. Vocalist Craig Finn is so fun to watch. You just follow him around and wish that he could perform just for you. Honestly, there was so much energy emanating from the stage that I wished I could just suck some of it and redirect it towards me. You should definitely check them out at their record-release show at the Mercury Lounge on March 4. Go to their Website at www.theholdsteady.com for more information on this band.

By the time Les Savy Fav took the stage, I was ready to pass out. But, like a true rock reviewer, I persevered and managed to stay for the first three songs before I headed back to New Jersey for some much-needed meds (from the local pharmacy, not the local dealer). Les Savy Fav's guitarist was truly my favorite. He played with such vivacity that I was completely blown away. The music that emanated from his guitar held me in a trance like state. I did find that the Tim Harrington was the crowd's favorite, though. He had them mesmerized right from the start with his entertaining and fun lyrics. I, on the other hand, was constantly being redirected to their guitarist. There has been so much hype behind Les Savy Fav's live shows that I wasn't sure that they could live up to my expectations. But with their ever-loving need to rock and amazing sound, I will surely see them again.

If I had three wishes, I would use one of them to go back in time and see this show again. (Of course, I would use one of the other wishes for 10 more wishes. Hey, I'm not greedy.) I feel that because of the timing of this thing called the flu, I was missing out on the true rock 'n' roll essence of The Hold Steady. I don't think that my review did any of the bands justice, so please go out on your own and check them out. I, for one, will be at the record-release show (germ free) for The Hold Steady on March 4 at the Mercury Lounge...with my coke in hand and not up my nose.

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Modest Mouse
The Helio Sequence
French Toast
February 5, 2004 @ Irving Plaza (New York, NY)
By Pham Wolfe

"Hello, my name is Pham, and I'm not really sure if I'm supposed to be here. I mean...I don't think I have a problem, although my friends tell me I do. I'm just a magnet for it. I can't help it. It's like knowing that you should give it up because you're too old for it—but yet, oddly enough you can't. Fine! I'll admit it! [Sigh] My name is Pham, and I'm a supposed-to-be-on-the-guest-list-but-never-am addict." It was on this wintry night that I again was declined entry to this sold-out show. It was at this exact moment, while the hairs in my nose began to freeze and my fingers were almost at the point of needed amputation, that it hit me: I am an addict and need help! Divine intervention came to me in the form an angel who managed to get me into the show after an hour of waiting outside Irving Plaza amongst the crowd of fans searching for a scalper to buy tickets on the streets of New York. This angel had a name: Benjamin Weikel, the drummer of The Helio Sequence. Through the powers that be (okay, maybe it was Benjamin and a publicist), I managed to enter Irving Plaza like I should have an hour ago. Hey, better late than never, right? Unfortunately because of the time-consuming nature of my admittance, I was unable to catch the first band, French Toast. This made me very sad because of the crowd's positive reaction to their set. One soul told me that they rocked so hard that he could now leave this crowd of bad-ass cigarette smokers (smoking is prohibited in New York venues), since he saw an awesome-enough band. He could just leave and listen to Modest Mouse in his car. I feel I may have missed a new band that I would have thoroughly enjoyed. Oh, well, that's the life of a music reviewer...and addict. Maybe I should have bought a ticket six months ago and secured a chance to see the whole show. There's always the next time.

I had never heard of The Helio Sequence, so I didn't know what to expect. When two boys came out on stage, I wasn't sure what was going to happen. By the time their set ended, I was in a state of euphoria and am so glad that I was given admittance (albeit late) to this show. The Helio Sequence has become one of my permanent CDs in my stereo. This Beaverton, OR, duo with an intense love for music (as shown by their passionate energetic live performance) seemed to have not only captivated me but their audience, as well. Their music is reminiscent of The Flaming Lips' in their dreamier state and The Coctails combined. And the most amazing part of The Helio Sequence is that they managed to pull it off with only the two of them. Their music is spacey, almost dreamlike at times. It blew me way to watch these two put together a stream of songs so intricate and masterfully maintained by Brandon's trance-like voice and Benjamin's ferocity on the drums (as well as their pre-recorded keyboard music generating out of a computer). This is pure, talented musicians at their best. Check out their new album coming out on Sub-Pop sometime in the near future.

In between the live performances we, the audience, were entertained by TV screens playing odd, witty parodies of such favorites as BEHIND THE MUSIC and some truly memorable public-service announcements by a comedian (I have no idea what his name is. You just need to know that he was entertaining and blatantly honest about our culture's obsession of peoples lives and habits).

Ah, yes, the headline time. Modest Mouse is known far and wide for their live performances. Actually, I have heard that depending on whether Isaac is drunk or not is how well the show will go. This time he was sober or at least not fall down belligerent drunk. The show was spectacular. They played many of my favorite songs including, "Doin' the Cockroach", "Bankrupt on Selling", and "3rd Planet". They were as amazing, as I expected them to be. Every time Isaac grabbed his microphone and sung, some drunken-ass chick kept yelling at him to "Show us your tits!" That was extremely irritating, and how I wish we could have thrown her over the balcony. Also, I would have loved to stab...oh, did I say stab? I meant kick—the jackass in front of me who kept on feeling the need to mosh to every single Modest Mouse song. What self-respecting Modest Mouse fan is going to mosh like he was at a hardcore show?! So, yeah, I am an addict, and no matter how much I would love to get help and stop this obsession of being a reviewer on the guest list, I will not stop. If I were indeed to end this passion that I have for good, well-played music and get help, I would have missed knowing about The Helio Sequence and my intense hatred for chicks who must chant show me your tits. You also must know that my new obsession for The Helio Sequence has nothing at all to do with my savior Benjamin: it is their music that I love and respect.

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Poison the Well
The Bled
Murder by Death
The Kinison
February 6, 2004 @ the Glass House (Pomona, CA)
By Jessica Rihal

The Kinison are a lovely band from the small town of Oblong, IL, who specialize in an infectious, hard-hitting type of live show. Starting their set off with "New Way to Dance", The Kinison quickly proved that screaming doesn't strictly have to mean moshing and getting hit in the head, but it can mean moving your hips while shaking you're junk, too. Singer Chris Lewis (who resembles a younger version of Thom York) kept the sold-out crowd entertained by violently pulsating across the stage, feeding off the energy from a dancing and yelping audience. Overall, The Kinison were received well by the crowd, especially as soon as the opening chords of "Hey Hey Hey" were heard. Following songs off of their latest Fearless release, MORTGAGE IS BANK, The Kinison performed some new material that, believe it or not, had a significantly different sound, which is refreshing. Their new work still has their energetic screams but sounds a little more garage than their older material. Keep your eyes open for a new release from The Kinison later this year.

The next band to grace the stage was Murder by Death. The buzz on this band seems to revolve around the fact that they have an electric cellist who can tear it up, so naturally my anticipation for them to play was getting a bit out of hand. What a surprise I was in for. Murder by Death began their set with moody, dark melodies that carried the energy through the venue and demanded attention—and boy, did they get it. Singer Adam Turla's vocals were nothing short of perfect, bursting with strength and clarity, and throughout they managed to keep the attention of the crowd in the palm of their mighty hand with simple emotional lyrics about drinking, gloom, and cowboys. Murder by Death was at their best during the song "A Masters in Reverse Psychology". However, their closing song "Medley of Evil", was definitely the show-stealer. This instrumental piece conveyed so much emotion that lyrics just couldn't do any justice. If you get a chance to see this band, I strongly suggest you check them out. Check them out at www.murderbydeath.com.

Up next was Tucson, AZ's The Bled. Suddenly, kids who were standing outside on the sidewalk for previous bands were flooding into the venue filling the space to maximum capacity. I was a bit surprised to see this many loyal fans showing their support. Like a crash of thunder, The Bled violently took the stage and began their brand of lively, energetic hardcore. Suddenly, the entire floor turned into a mass of pushing, swinging arms, and hxc dancing—something that I don't mind as long as I'm not in the middle of it. However, in this case, the energy was so high that I found myself wanting to jump right in, though I managed to keep my sanity. But nothing could save me from random flying hxc dancers hitting me in the head. The song that yielded the most crowd participation and scream-alongs was "Dale Earnhart's Seat Belt". The Bled definitely knows how to put on a good, energetic life show that I will be checking out again in the future.

Finally, after a long wait in-between sets, it was time for South Florida's Poison the Well to take the stage. They opened the show appropriately with "For a Bandaged Iris" off of their latest Atlantic release, YOU COME BEFORE YOU. Singer Jeffery Moreira had some difficulties with his mic, and the guitars sounded out of key at times, which made for some awkwardness, but it barely seemed to phase the ecstatic crowd. The audience seemed most satisfied with some of the older songs, such as "Artists Rendering of Me" screaming along each line "I will / Never/ Follow your false ideals" in unison. The most exciting part of the show came about halfway through, when bassist Geoff Vegas accidentally slammed the top of his bass into the singer's head during one of the songs. Without hesitation, Jeffery screamed out the rest of his lyrics stronger than ever as blood began to trickle down his head. A completely metal moment.

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THE SHINS
CASS MCCOMBS
SAM JAYNE
February 11, 2004 @ Black Cat (Washington, DC)
By Rob Macy

After cramming the platform-raised, pyrotechnic-lit, spandex-smothered rock star down the public's throat, seeing the club-packing headliners raise a suspicious eyebrow of club security is refreshing. The overzealous guard uncocked his brow and reconnected with his stool after he realized that James Mercer was allowed past the sacred ropes and tried in vain to regain his coolness. That's the quality of the working rock star: fame on smaller scale, with less notoriety, less invasive publicity, and fewer inflated egos. And even though James Mercer may be the actualization of the beatnik pop king that Dylan once was, he's as humble a gentlemen as you'll meet.

The first thing you'll realize when you meet your working rock star (aside from that you are taller than they are) is that they're surprisingly accessible and will immediately remind you of someone you already know. At this juncture for Sam Jayne, Cass McCombs, and the four Shins—despite their success—they're all setting up their own gear. No bandanna and Marlboro-uniformed legion of Butches and Jakes shifting drum kits, pianos, and amps around and tossing towels, water, and duct tape like circus jugglers, just musicians setting up their own stuff like they did when they played their first frat party—and in turn ruining that greatly dramatic first glimpse of the stars on stage, especially when you've seen them hunched over, awkward, and frustrated with the sound guy, bearing their ass cracks for at least 20 minutes.

Sam Jayne comes on stage and straight-away discloses his appreciation of the past night's crowd, who whispered "You suck" as opposed to shouting it at him. The former brains behind Love as Laughter revealed why he was the creative center behind the group's touchingly twisted songs. The finish on his guitar looked like the unpolished floor of a Dust Bowl-era hospital, as he played his '80s-style lyrical hate under the guise of a '50s-style bum. His humor on stage was only matched by his tendency to lose himself in his songs and let go of that rational adult inside us all that won't let us feel any music totally. If Jayne is serious about his solo venture or just gigging around to stir-up Love as Laughter attention, he showed why he is an upcoming songwriting talent and fit for such a gifted bill.

After making the 25-minute drive down the B.W. Parkway, Cass McCombs left behind the comforts of a friend's couch to battle some on-stage demons. After playing for five minutes with his facing the wrong direction, Cass found solace in the faces of bandmates Trevor Shmizu (bass), Natalie Conn (keys), and Dutch E. Germ (drums). McCombs nervously danced away from the spotlight to his broader versions of these lush yet fragile album tracks. His studio single, "I Went to the Hospital", once played as a fragile boy from yesterday's folk tales, was turned into a new-wave whirlpool around the crackle and fuzz of the full band. Seemingly soothed within the uproar, Cass went undisturbed by the ignorant, mumbling voices from the back while he sings his soul away. He seems confident in knowing that soon they will talk to, about, and (possibly) for him (despite his best attempts). Displaying a poise and talent that he's somehow not be able to match in self-assurance, he sings like a possessed choirboy and writhes on stage like Ian Curtis or Morrissey or anyone who didn't have to fake their misery in the '80s. In distorting the singular expressiveness of his record A on stage, Cass McCombs has found a depth as a singer/songwriter. His duality and grace on both sides can only increase the acclaim of his developing genius.   

Over the course of two brilliant and genuinely different Sub Pop records, notoriety still doesn't wear well on New Mexico's The Shins—Marty Crandall being the exception, as he gets the cheap pop when he pounced on stage and shouted "SOLD MOTHERFUCKIN' OUT!" He leads James Mercer, Dave Hernandez, and Jessie Sandoval on stage, giggling at the sight of a second night of sold-out D.C. fans. There is a new surprise and happiness in The Shins in the wake of CHUTES TOO NARROW, and it suits their music well. They now hold familiarity and fluid easiness in art and life; and as the pop-band jams and turn psychedelic for a second, you start to realize the caliber of talent they are working with. Mercer is one of the best songwriters in the game, and the fact that the other three can keep up with his distorted and vivid picture of love and sorrow and stay in tune is a small measure of miracle. "Pink Bullets" could be the saddest song ever written for the saddest boy on the downside of the saddest of love affairs. On stage, it traps every eye in the sold-out crowd like a deer in headlights, forcing harsh memories of loves lost upon them. The tuneful hero is left with a pocket full of despair and metaphors to soften the damage of the actual fall. The somber pop songs King James spins occasionally got drowned out by the drunken giggling of Marty, who, blowing kisses, passes into the front of the crowd. He stops momentarily when James jabs, "Are we going to play some songs?" and then he stops completely after receiving flowers with a cock photograph, a love letter, and an e-mail address attached. Looking sheepish, Marty was able to sweat the booze out the full charge on "Know Your Onion". The rush of that song would ultimately define the higher points of The Shins' show, which you cannot find on record. They turn their giddy, delicate pop songs into defiant rock landmarks on stage, breaking their niche and critical hearts. The political frustration of "So Says I" can be conveyed to a lesser extent on record, but in person Mercer parts your hair with his resentment for the uninvited establishment and human cruelty. The fine balance and mood-swinging grace of The Shins allows them the privilege of performing both kinds of songs with the same integrity and honesty throughout. You would hope that, in a perfect world, being able to retain your artistic expression and sensibility would land you a bigger bankroll, but The Shins persevere and probably keep the sensibility they have in perspective because of their small checks. Just hope that one day they can hire someone else to set up their gear.

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PREMONITIONS OF WAR
BREATHER RESIST
AESCHYLUS
THE RESCUE
LEGS UP
SHATTERED DREAMS
February 12, 2004 @ Molly Blooms II (Amityville, NY)
By Janelle Jones

Not many people came down to Molly Blooms II on Long Island for this hardcore show featuring six bands—four of which were local acts—and the meager crowd only dwindled as the night wore on.

Walking into the club a bit late—and thereby missing Shattered Dreams—I was greeted by Legs Up's nervous, spastic-sounding hardcore. A couple kids in the crowd got into the set about three songs in, "dancing" and doing some gymnast-like moves, cartwheels into fist pumps and similar shit. Guess this is the "new school" way. Whatever. As long as people are enjoying themselves, that's all that matters. Anyway, Legs Up performed about seven songs during their 20-minute time slot, ending with "Keep Your Shirt On".

The Rescue play what my pal Captain Two Man best described as "chaotic hardcore," replete with crashing dual guitars, screamed vocals, and tempestuous drums. True, they may not be traversing any new ground with their style, but they do it well. And the crowd reacted by forming a circle pit with crazed kids going nuts. Some songs they played were "Drum and Bass", "The Art of Masking Emotion", and one I believe was called "Jackie O. Destroyed Modern Romance", which ended with an insanely heavy breakdown. They have an EP coming out in June.

Beckoning people to move up front prior to kicking off your set is never a good sign—and that's just what Aeschylus, an impressive hardcore troupe with singing/tortured screaming, heavy instrumentation, and plenty of emotion, had to do. The guys didn't seem fazed, though. During the entirety of their set, the frontman was quite theatrical, at times even sprawling out across the foot-high "stage" screaming in agony. Was he really THAT affected by his band's music, or was it just a ruse? Who's to say. What is for sure is that their music is cathartic and forceful. Still, somehow movement amongst the crowd was non-existent. Perhaps they were all too enthralled watching the singer and the guitarist on the floor giving everything they had in the name of hardcore.

After the local bands were through, the "crowd" was outta there, as well—which is really unacceptable when you think about the final two bands coming up. Breather Resist, a four-piece from Louisville, have been on tour with Premonitions of War for a good chunk of February. The scant crowd that was left unfortunately didn't move AT ALL, though they did seem to show some interest in the band, which makes sense, as they are exceptional musicians who play a brutally heavy, chaotic style of music. A standout of their set was "The Second Half" from the 7" of the same name. The headbanging in unison from the guitarist, bassist, and drummer was pretty cool, too.

It really was sad to see the mighty Premonitions of War play in front of a measly 25 people, many of whom were not even standing by the stage, but they must be given credit, as they stuck it out and played a thrilling set (which turned out to be quite different from their performance at their NYC stop the previous Sunday). This time opting to play four songs (yes, it seems like a scant amount, but it worked), rather than the seven or so offerings on Sunday when the club was practically filled to capacity, they were every bit as energetic and into it, which is excellent to see. And the varying of sets was a bit surprising when taking into account the fact that Dustin, The War's regular drummer, was not present and probably wouldn't be for quite some time, as he had broken his arm the day of their record-release show (January 27th)which he actually played, despite having to tape his drumstick to his cast! Seriously, that is beyond belief, for this band has some incredibly sick drumming, which is one of the true highlights of their sound. Filling in for the time being is Dave Beaver, who has done an exceptional job, especially considering he had an extremely short period of time in which to learn the songs. Yet, this is also the reason why the band's sets have been rather short. Nonetheless, on this night, The War kicked things off with the impassioned "The Octopus", no doubt one of the slowest songs on the band's latest record LEFT IN KOWLOON (which is essentially a collection of short, ferocious bursts of noise that fuse metal, grind, hardcore, and thrash). In any case, it seemed as though they slowed "The Octopus" down even more so than on the album and elongated it, making for an even more dramatic version. And as on Sunday, they also tore through "Black Den", the most creative, powerful song on KOWLOON, as it starts off super fast (as many of their songs do), but then quickly slows down and becomes almost monotonous in a (good) way, with the same dark, sludgy part being played over and over, while Brad's measured screams come through the guitar/drums/bass assault every so often. And once again, Dave pulled off some great drum work on this number. Premonitions ended with two other songs off the new album. Good stuff, indeed. If only the people of Long Island knew about this Toledo, OH, band! The turnout may have been depressingly poor, but the quality of the music was inestimable.

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THE FORMAT
HELLO GOODBYE
JACK BIGHEAD
February 17, 2004
By Tiffany Chow
Photos by Eric Lawson

Tuesday-night shows are not usually much cause for endless buzz and anticipation, but exceptions can be—and are—made, especially for this particular show. The massive, anxious crowd was a diverse mix of old and young, various ethnicities and styles, and personalities. In fact, it was quite possibly the most random group of people I have ever witnessed at Chain Reaction. Any conclusion that can be drawn about the reason behind the randomness must come back to the idea that good music draws all kinds of people, regardless of what it is.

For the first time I've ever seen, there was a substantial crowd inside the venue at 7:30 p.m. Many groups of people stood about waiting for the first band, Jack Bighead, to begin their set. This band was almost as random as the crowd they were performing for. With a bassist with a 'fro and a full beard and moustache accompanied by a singer in a bright yellow Stevie Wonder shirt and a bassist sporting an old *NSync shirt, their confusing appearance was actually an advantage. They were so impossible to figure out based merely on looks—so you had to give the music a chance. When you did, you discovered an energetic sound filled with guitar solos, thumping bass, and '60s-rock-influenced tunes. There was constant and almost spastic movement on the stage, and by the end of their set it had spread like a cancer to most of the audience, who had clearly been won over by the catchy songs.

Jack Bighead tore down their equipment pretty quickly, but, due to unfortunate technical difficulties for Hello Goodbye, the lull between the two bands was long and frustrating. Many people in the crowd were anxious to see the new Drive-Thru Records band play, having come out mostly to see them. They finally got their keyboards to work and, with profuse apologies, began their set. They had a guest drummer, Parker (of the pop/rock duo JamisonParker). They played with enthusiasm and energy, despite the difficulties and the lack of a regular member. This band is known for the entourage of fans/friends/supporters they draw to their shows. The entire crowd was a swaying mass of dancing and singing. Opening with an all-time favorite, "All Time Lows", the crowd instantly began enjoying themselves. Even though their set was shortened drastically, they were able to put on a winning show that pleased even the most frustrated audience members.

Even though many people came out to support the two opening bands, it was obvious by the time Hello Goodbye left the stage that the majority of people were anxiously awaiting the start of the headliner. The Format, two men from Arizona (but a full band when touring), have blown up over the past few months. After signing to Elektra, they have finally received the promotion they needed to get their contagious and irresistible music out to the masses. Since then, they have gained an enormous amount of fans, as this show displayed. They opened with "The First Single", appropriately titled for its catchiness and ability to become their first hit. Immediately, nearly every person in the room began singing along to every line, dancing and clapping in perfect time with the music, which was played impeccably. Playing songs off their new album INTERVENTIONS AND LULLABIES, the singing and dancing continued throughout their entire set. The thing about The Format that is able to win them so many loyal fans is their ability to concoct tunes that could become classics. They are that perfectly written. Closing with an even more moving rendition than the original of "On Your Porch", the band left the stage.

Chain Reaction was packed by the end of The Format's set. People swarmed around the merchandise and the exit. A successful night—even though a Tuesday, I think most would say.

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SKA IS DEAD TOUR:
CATCH 22
MUSTARD PLUG
BIG D AND THE KIDS TABLE PLANET SMASHERS ASOB
February 19, 2004 @ the Downtown (Farmingdale, NY)
By Janelle Jones

Nothing like an all-ages ska show on Long Island to make one realize how OLD he/she is. Damn! For a majority of the night, as I had expected, I must've been the oldest one at this sold-out show. In any case, arriving a bit late, I walked into the club only to see a huge mass of kids and LI's own ska purveyors ASOB (a.k.a. Arrogant Sons of Bitches, a band who have had their ska groove on since the mid '90s) nearing the end of their set. Before ripping into the appropriately-named "Abandon Shit", they made a good argument about all the people in bands who had forsaken ska only to jump to the next trend (viz., emo), leading up to an emphatic shout of "Ska is NOT dead!" This point was definitely evidenced by the large amount of people who had turned out for the show. They directed us so that when they would say "emo," we would shout back "go home!" ASOB also played "Royale Fuck Deluxe", and their finale was prefaced with a resounding yell of "Ska orgy!" During this upbeat skankfest, they were accompanied by some Catch 22 and Big D and the Kids Table members. What I got most out of their set was their well-founded hatred of emotional hardcore.

Montreal's Planet Smashers didn't impress much. Well, I should clarify: the kids LOVED their fun, comical brand of ska, but I wasn't feeling the charm. Maybe it's because I remember flipping channels one night and hearing this annoyingly poppy song "I Like Your Girl". When the band played this, I finally put two and two together. And when they asked everyone to sit down on the floor for a while until they would motion us to get up during one song, my cronies at the bar and I defiantly stood our ground, not following their lame shenanigans like the rest of the lemmings. Anyway, some songs they performed were "Life of the Party" (from the album of the same name)—which I must admit did have a good stomping beat—"Never Going to Drink Again", and the horrifically-titled "Super Orgy Porno Party". They ended on "Sk8 or Die" and said they'd be back for the Warped Tour. My sentiments aside, it was apparent they were well-received on their first-ever LI stop.

It's nice when a band plays requests, and Big D was all about the requests on this night, yielding to intonations of "Jeremy" and another one immediately after. Also in this fiery Boston band's repertoire was a Rudiments cover and more originals, including "Evil Girl/Angry Girl", a song dedicated to some dude Randy, who, apparently, was drenched in vocalist Dave McWane's blood, causing the young man to quickly ask Dave if he had AIDS (the answer was no, if anyone cares). Someone in the band said Randy deserved a T-shirt, but instead he was treated to this song. Funny stuff. Good set.

Perhaps the greatest incentive to come out for this show was the prospect of seeing Mustard Plug again. Not having seen these Grand Rapids, MI, ska kings since '99 (I think) (with Catch 22 and the now-defunct Edna's Goldfish and Errortype-11) made me think back to the good old days. The fellahs took the stage after a bit of real momentous-sounding music was played while the kids chanted "Mustard Plug." The band immediately tore into "Not Enough" off their '02 LP YELLOW #5. They kept the momentum going through 'til their final offering, "Beer Song", a number you can't help but sing along to. In between, we heard such greats as the uproarious "Skank by Numbers"; which was followed by the slightly more sedate "You"; their best song EVER, "Mendosa" (from '97's EVILDOERS BEWARE); and "Lolita". For their penultimate song, they asked us if we wanted either "Box" or "Mr. Smiley". It was a no-brainer: the upbeat and fun "Mr. Smiley" all the way, hands down. Mustard Plug's undeniably entertaining set was the true highlight of the night.

To the sounds of extremely theatrical music and shouts of "Catch 22," the NJ six-piece came out, heading straight into an instrumental piece, then into "What Goes Around Comes Around" (from ALONE IN A CROWD). Newer songs they performed included the soulful "Motown Cinderella", "Wine Stained Lips", the slower "Chasing the Moon", and the mellow "Good Times", which was dedicated to all the bands on the bill. There was much singing along and arm-waving in unison for "On and On and On" (from their debut, KEASBEY NIGHTS). At one point during their set, they said they wanted to slow things down, but couldn't, realizing the crowd was going pretty crazy. That's always a good sign that the band's doing something right. As a result, they decided to do the super-fast, more hardcore "Sounds Good, but I Don't Know" (from AIAC). Another song that elicited much action was "9mm and a Three Piece Suit". I actually left after "12341234" and can only guess that that was towards the end of their set, as was the case previous times I've seen them. Undoubtedly they came back for a couple songs as an encore. Overall, they had good participation from the crowd, a commanding stage presence, and some very, very strong horns (they really sounded great!). The rest of the country can catch the Ska Is Dead tour when the second leg commences this April.

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YOUTH BRIGADE
THE BRIEFS
STREET DOGS
JACKASS
February 20, 2004 @ Slim's (San Francisco, CA)
Text and photos by Cassie Burke

Oh, man! It's Friday night, and not only are The Briefs in town, but they are here with Youth Brigade! Okay, so the show starts tonight at 8:30. Yeah, right. I decide to show up at 8:45. As I get closer, I can hear the muffled sounds of guitar and twangy vocals. Well, I'll be damned: Jackass is playing! No problem—I'll just get my photo pass and be inside before the set is over. I reach the window, show my i.d., and hear the words that all of us photographers love to hear: "Ummm...you're not on the list." WHAT?! So, I'm standing there completely frustrated, when Mr. Lance Romance of The Briefs comes outside for a smoke. I've known him for a bit, so I explain my situation to him. Then, just like the superhero in the night that he is, he gets me on the list with a photo pass and a kiss. (Okay, so I made the kiss part up, but I'm sure he won't object.) Thanks, Lance!

It is unfortunate that this mix-up at the door prevented me from seeing the opening band, SoCal's Jackass. So, I decide to check out their Website, www.jackasstheband.com. I was assaulted by what the band themselves proclaim as a genuine punk-ranchero style. If this means good ol' honky-tonk punk rock, then I'll have to agree. The mp3s on the site impress me enough to recommend catching them live...or at least give their Website a spin.

The Street Dogs are midway through their set now—and, from the looks of it, tearing the place up. Okay, so there are only 50 or so kids near the stage, but they are REALLY enjoying the set! These Boston natives appear to be just what their name implies: street dogs. They are rough around the edges and so raw that you can almost taste the angst dripping from the lyrics. The Street Dogs are solid throughout their set, but really pump up the house with their cover of Black Flag's "Rise Above". Oh, yeah, did I neglect to mention that the vocalist for this band is none other than original Dropkick Murphys singer Mike McColgan?! Five years after his descent from Dropkick, he is back with a little more punk and a little more rock! The Street Dogs have just released their debut album, SAVIN HILL, so if you can't catch these guys live, there's still hope for you.

Ahhh, The Briefs! I have been anticipating this night as much for these guys as for Youth Brigade. The first person to grace the stage is drummer Chris Brief in his fantastic white Devo suit. The audience is engaged for that reason alone. Steve, Dan, and Lance then bound on stage, and they break into "Poor & Weird", which, I've come to realize, is a classic in its time. Maybe it just seems like a classic because they are a very '70s punk band, complete with suits and retro signature sunglasses; or maybe it's just because they are a great band. Either way, the kids are into it, and they hardly know if they should be pogo dancing or slamming. It's amusing to watch them kinda do both at the same time. The Briefs keep fueling them with songs like "Knife", "22nd Century Man", "Sylvia", and, of course, "New Shoes". The room is filled with so much energy that I'm convinced that narcotics were handed out at the door. Dan and Lance vault into the air more times than gymnasts, Steve is shredding his vocal chords, and Chris Brief has just about beat through his drum heads. What incredible talent! Do yourself a favor and check these guys out every chance you get!

Everyone knows what time it is now, as the guy on the loudspeaker needlessly introduces the legendary Youth Brigade. Shawn, Adam, and Mark Stern walk on stage (which seems massive with only the three members) to incredible applause. Mark climbs behind his drum kit, and Shawn does a little bit of fine tuning. It's obvious that they are not in a hurry. After about three minutes of tuning and banter, Youth Brigade is ready to begin with "Not Like That Anymore". The kids immediately explode into a pit, as if any song would have created this reaction. Youth Brigade only pause to remind us all how important it is to vote to get a certain idiot out of office. Then they continue with a great yet almost contradictory, song about apathy, "Makes No Difference". What impresses me most about Youth Brigade is their disregard for barricades (most all shows at Slim's ARE barricaded). Shawn reminisces about the time that he told a cop that he doesn't need protection against kids who came to see him play. This excites the crowd, and they keep playing for another 30 minutes. The show comes to an end with an encore that includes "Men in Blue". Very appropriate!

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