Room 710, September 27,2003
is not Metal. Well no shit, you say? The point is, even though
they're not Metal, they completely rock my head off. Must...
bang... head. What they are is "retro-futurama"
with bass-blasting butt-shifting power. Pong music bubbles
up from the groin and fills your heart with bubbles. The nasty
funk powers of Funkadelic and the soaring, Gary Numan-esque
keyboard lines will strap you into your time machine. It's
like taking off on a flying saucer to party with intellectually
advanced but wise-assed aliens.
pump out the best live sound I've heard at 710, plus a superior
lights and video show. It's a beautiful world. It just pumps
your butt full of boogie. Does that sound gross? I dare you
to come to a Pong show and hold still. You can't. If you can
you're full of cement. Yo miss Annabella, miss Belladonna,
you wanna? All you college kids haul your Darque Tanned asses
out of Spiro's and get your Pong on next time they rip the
roof off of Room 710. I wish someone would-a told me these
things when I was in college.
Room 710, October 1, 2003
Carrera, minus their usual bassist, plus Dixie Witch bassman
Curt equals a hard rockin’ jamfest. Guitar player Jason
Morales, drummer Erik Conn and Curt rocked out on 710’s
stage, improvising slabs of mind numbing buzz. With Jason
leading the way, and Curt and Erik backing him up, TC explored
the musical spheres like a Slash led String Cheese Incident.
Watching Conn play drums is like watching a well-aimed fist
connecting with an out thrust chin, he has got to be one of
the bad as in good drummers in town. If you dig free wheeling
heavy improv, check out Tia Carrera and dance like a tripping
hippie if you want to.
51 consists of ex-Butthole Surfer/Honey bass player Jeff Pinkus,
Scratch Acid axeman Brett Bradford and Ministry skinsman Max
Brody. Quite a powerful line up to say the least. The heavy
cacophony that emanated from the stage hit me like a jet-black
speeding SUV all tricked out with angry red and purple paisleys.
Like a multi-limbed fever dream monster, A51’s psychedelic
rock can leave your mind reeling. Sometimes Brody’s
solid drumming is the only thing keeping you anchored in reality
as the caterwauling of Bradford’s axe and freaky effected
vocals wash over you. Areola 51 puts the noise in the term
“noise rock” and throws the touchy-feely vibe
of psychedelia out the windowpane. Go see ‘em and experience
the auditory madness for yourself.
p.s.-I think my phone is being tapped
Ted/Confuzatron/Rubber Robot – a Night in Outer Space
Room 710, October 2, 2003
710 never ceases to kick my ass. Three weirdo bands in one
night, and all the one-buck beers you can drink. A recipe
for my destruction. Opening band Rubber Robot was boppy, sloppy
and sludgey, with the first "thrash theramin" playing
I’ve seen. The frontman thrashed his electro-gizmo,
eventually onto the floor to my delight. So thrilled was I,
that I bought a Rubber Robot shirt: a wife-beater displaying
a hand-stenciled metallic robot. Low-tech, like their guitar
was fabulously freakin’ weird as usual, but they looked
even more mutated next to their "normal cute boy"
guest bassist, John Acker of the 710 mafia. Even though it
wasn’t their most pumping show, I still lost it. More
quirky, groovy gadgetry to spin my eyeballs and spark my fuse.
did the chicken cross the road? To check out Brian Jonestown
Massacre at Red Eyed Fly. Within 30 seconds after the hottie
door girl let me through, it was apparent that BJM were not
the crack-smoking rock maniacs I’d heard about years
ago, but a pretty-boy poser band, swaying and dipping like
a tribute to The Monkeys. I ran screaming, back to 710.
crowd was pretty hopped up when I joined in. The macabre carnival
sound of Attic Ted pushed us past the point of "jiving
around acting cool" and into the swirling abyss of "geeks
gone wild" – as in, who cares what you think, if
I want to put on a boogie-monster mask and dance like a headless
chicken till my hair is matted and my friends have all left
without me. What I left with was one cool shirt, two CD’s,
and a sweaty, cop-repelling stank. That’s the first
time I’ve gone full-on psycho cheerleader in a long
time. Well, not that long. My head hurts, my neck hurts, my
ass hurts. Yeehaw! Freak out with Attic Ted at the BIKE RODEO
on October 19th at Cafe Mundi.
Cowgirl/Five Digit Disco
Room 710, September 30, 2003
A country band followed by three lesbo garage-rock
bands? I just love Room 710, So I decided to stay all night
and drink, even though most of the chicks in the bar were
holding hands with each other. They're fun to watch, at least.
Otis started the show with a sound that one girl in the crowd
described to me Bob Dylan meets Dick Dale. I didn't hear the
Dick Dale influence, but it was some good folky country music
with really good lyrics. My favorite song involved a dark
but hilarious story about the antics of a pregnant junkie
girl. I liked this band because they seemed to be focused
on writing good songs instead of the endless bluegrass jams
that are so trendy these days. Oddly enough, their last song
told the story of a girl who won't give head. I wonder if
she was in one of the other bands? They had some really good
songs, but they took their damned sweet time inbetween playing
each one. Note to Otis : make a set list and make it flow.
After what seemed like an eternity of nothing
on stage, the drums and bass duo of hellosuperlocal finally
got started. The beat was good, but the soft whispering of
the nervous bass player and her tendency to do some serious
shoegazing made me want to fall asleep. Note to hellosuperlocal:
Lighten up! Rock and roll is supposed to be fun!
Next up was Karate Cowgirl, another duo with
drums and guitar. These girls kicked ass! Who would guess
that such a small girl could be such a huge percussion monster?
They could have blown the doors off the hinges with a bass
player, but the rhythms were tight and the guitarist laid
down plenty of solid hooks to back up her drumming sidekick.
They threw in a few nice vocal harmonies in the right spots,
and the cover of Tom Petty's "American Girl" took
on a new meaning coming from a couple of cute lesbian girls.
I wished they had played a longer set. Note to Karate Cowgirl:
You Rock! Just find a cute lesbo bassist to finish the act
and you'll really kill.
Last up was Five Digit Disco. I'll have to
admit that by this time I was pretty toasted and I had started
to chat up some of the cute dyke girls, so I didn't get to
pay much attention to this band. They reminded me of some
good old anything goes garage punk, the bass was very melodic
and they had some really good freakouts. The drummer was solid
and simple, and the singer/guitarist had a nice voice. After
being drawn in by Otis and blown away by Karate Cowgirl, I
just lost my will to watch because I was too busy trying to
convert some of the cute lesbo girls. Note to Five Digit Disco:
Nice leather pants!
Room 710, September 24,2003
is Good! So many heavy bands seem to forget this major detail
when trying to play music that has been lumped into the category
of “stoner rock”. (Let me just say that I find
this label offensive, as one that enjoys more than the occasional
marijuana cigarette, because it’s all stoner rock when
you’re high) Though I was not high at this particular
juncture, I thoroughly enjoyed Activator and Totmoshi.
California’s Totimoshi came roaring out of the gates
ready to lay it down on an otherwise ordinary Wednesday night.
This three-piece makes their mark with heavy groove-oriented
Activator took the stage I was reminded once again why I like
this band. The low end produced by their rhythm section is
astounding. Coupled with the one two punch of guitarists LJ
and Derrick, you can’t go wrong. The quintet is completed
by Jason R, whose vocal stylings and stage presence remind
me of all of the rock gods that I worshipped during my formidable
must borrow an adage from fellow Rank and Revue writer Erin
Muscato to fully encapsulate their sound, this is music that
provokes you to move like a whore. You know, the kind where
you’re grinding that imaginary pole, kind of like that.
So whores beware, you’ll get some stiff competition
at an Activator show.