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beerland, TX

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that microwave world photo by beau been

beerland, TX

The Pricks

Rewind to the 1970’s: Retro is still original. Ted Bundy is livin’ it up. I’m in some nether-world trying to score an extra liver before being kicked back for another round on Earth. (They can make me come back, but goddammit I’m gonna be prepared.). And the world is having a punk rock orgy with bands like The Dead Boys, The Misfits, The Stooges and The Ramones.

No…wait. It’s Friday nite happy-hour at Beerland where we’ve all come to toast and roast Bob on his birthday. Age: Rockin’!

First up were one of my local favorites, The Sweethearts. New song, tight set – Linette’s sultry croon. If you don’t yet have their CD, go buy one motherfucker! Then Bob took the stage alongside his fellow Pricks: K.O., (drummer???), (Gonzalo was in Peru). Let the Punk Rock Karaoke begin! To quote a wise man (Bob): “This is about drinkin’ with friends and singing all the great songs from our shitty adolescence.”

The Pricks played hard-core – just can’t resist the hard ones – with the added bonus of local-vocals: the singer from the Peen Beats (sorry man, don’t know your name…but you got my number, right?), Vinnie (The Cravings, The Convulsions) rocked out for two songs, and Ronya’s (The Homewreckers) performance had everyone burning to Go-go with her on “Vacation”. And the smash-it-up finish, “Sonic Reducer”, was delivered by Pitts Gaffer (PiNK SWORdS) who burst onto the stage as if Stiv Bators himself had returned to steal a few minutes of sheer rock energy.

Now wouldn’t that have been a cool present, Bob?

Dani Helle
________________________________
rock and fuck, long and hard

mood kilers
Stickpony
Beerland, Thursday, Dec. 11th

“Thank you, bartender, for the best years of my life…,” Brit Jones crooned to Billy Hankey and the other drink slingers - past and current - watching Stickpony early Thursday evening. A well-attended show for 9:00, the band provided the soundtrack to the heavy drinking that is encouraged at all their shows. Not as drunk as they often are when they play later (although this hasn’t occurred in a while), the band tore through a set of soon-to-be retired songs, playing each as lovingly and viscously as it were the first time they had been performed for a crowd.

And, again, as I watch them give the Meat Puppets a rave send-up, the thought hits me like a cartoon anvil: “ Why the Hell aren’t these guys on Bloodshot Records? They’ve got the hooks, they’ve got the drunken despair and they’ve got the rage that accompanies any misspent youth. Does someone have to physically drag Alejandro Escovedo down to see these boys, so he can tell the label how good they are?”

Well, do they?

–Trevor Wallace

The Tuna Helpers
Beerland. Thurs., 12-17

Walking in on the Tuna Helpers was like witnessing Tori Amos and Beth Gibbons high off a ‘spoon full of sugar’ from Mary Poppins. The lead singer’s grimacing eyes were big and bright, resting in a focused stair upon the queer and the curious that made up the sizeable crowd at Beerland. Her high-pitched, operatic wails were hardly audible over the monotonous keyboard melodies. The drummer was a true talent, but her “I’m hard’’ act was a total turn-off. Just when I began to lose interest in the show in search of my Shiner, the hilarious three-piece would flip the script. The keyboard player busted in to some psuedo-sign language, interpretive dance routine while the lead singer hid behind an elaborate puppet stage and allowed her two-headed, marionette alter ego to dance and lip-synch the songs. I feel funny saying I’d fork over the five bucks to watch these cracked-out Barbies, but I can’t lie—it was extremely entertaining.

-a punker chic named Katie

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