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The Little Killers

the jacks

The Negatives

The Negatives

the jacks

beerland, TX

The Negatives
Beerland, September 24, 2003

Though the crowd was sparse, the energy filled the room. This classic 70's garage/punk band, The Negatives, is kinda Ramones meets the Angry Samoans. "Gregative" beat the crap out of the drums, never missing a beat and never slowing down. Each song demonstrated different tempos, the change-ups maintaining the focus of my attention. As Gregative put it, "It's like riding a bike," after admitting he hadn't picked up a pair of drumsticks in two years... until the night before when they tried to remember the old Negatives set list.

Gregative lives in California now where he is not playing music and most certainly wasting his talent. Members of the Deadites, Darin and Mike, contributed to the powerful and theatrical performance, by swinging guitars and running out into the crowd. Guitarist Darin belted out the tunes and plowed away at the guitar as Mike thumped away rhythmically at the bass. The show was great, and better than was expected. With only a scattered few observing this performance, I left with the feeling that Austin missed out on a good show. But then again...what's new?

- Katy Corser

The Dirty Sweets /The Little Killers
Beerland, October 2, 2003

It's getting hard for me not to see the Dirty Sweets when I go out these days. What can I say that I haven't said before, Penny wasn't stabbin' drunk, but she killed anyway. The guys played like they were pissed off, bolstered by a mini-tour with the Tyrades in Illinois. And I don't know if you'd call it an encore when the audience doesn't let your band get off stage, but they played one more song than they at first wanted to. They did GG Allin's rattlesnake baiter, "Bite It You Scum". I expected to see more people out, but I imagine some of you drank a weeks worth of beer at the Turbonegro show on Monday.

New York's Little Killers played before, amidst mucho hype about the show they put on at last year's Blackout rock-fiesta in Chicago. The threesome featured a Carrie-Anne Moss look alike on bass named Sara who was a total tease. She kept her back to the audience most of the time and only turned around to do occasional backup vocals. But when she did, whew yeah... I mean is it chilly in here or what? HELLO! She was pointing those things right at me, I swear. But aside from my infantile rocker girl fascination being satisfied, their debut release on Crypt records (see review in this issue) made me expect a bit more from them live.

They played a tame set of catchy up-tempo rock songs and were completely non-offensive. The group appeared to be caught between blowing their New York cool and opening up to the crowd. They sheepishly mumbled something about playing some bad shows lately but that Austin rules (duh). Songs like "Mind Of It's Own" and "Spider" got my fist in the air but they should've played every song with the intensity that they did on the closer, their records' opener, "Volume".

-Dave Roybal

Rockland Eagles
Beerland, September 20, 2003

“Cock rock rules where indie rock stood,” yowled the Rockland Eagles over a wall of arena rock mayhem.

With the Pocket Fish’rmen a happy memory, the Rockland Eagles have taken the mantle as Austin’s premiere tongue-in-cheek rock band, paying homage to Evel Knievel, hot rods, the Six Million Dollar Man and the very genre of music they have so readily embraced. Between the twin leads of former Fish’rman Chris Burns and Andy Thomas, the guest bass thumping of Chepo Pena and the Lemmy distorted vocals, there was absolutely no excuse not to shake it till it broke, which the small but enthusiastic crowd did with abandon.

Borrowing from not only 70’s shlock rock, the Eagles show their versatility in and knowledge of the rock realm as a whole. I’m pretty sure I heard the guitar riff from Wire’s Strange as well as several other splices of 3-chord rock and roll greatness, illustrating the band’s primarily punk rock upbringing in that tiny, one school town called Rockland.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, not real original you say. I’ve heard it all before, you sniff with a superior air. Well, what part of rock has been original in the last twenty years? Ain’t the point, you soul-patched loser. Why don’t you take your whiny, pretentious, jazz- and ambient-loving ass back to the coffee shop that aborted you and get the fuck out of my face? I’m here to ROCK!

And thanks to the smokin’ alumni of the Rockland High School for the Mentally Challenged and Spastic, rock I did.

-Trevor Wallace

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