ass food, plenty of beer and wine, music, a Moon Walk for
the kids, and a butt lode of ASSHOLES. The peeps at the Chronicle
threw a mighty fine shindig, good job to Chris Grey and all
those who put it together.
near everyone there had their heads so far up their asses
one can't imagine how they could have seen enough to leave
their houses. Not only do people in Austin lack the intelligence
to operate motor vehicles, they lack the ability to be anything
other than rude and annoying at social events.
the crowd was courtroom proof of people as cattle. How many
boneheads can walk so blindly into a party and stand in the
first line they see before realizing
it's the chow line, and not some kind of check in.
dumb ass! No body cares how self important you are, you don't
have to block the path to be seen. I don't give a rats ass
if have to stand in a line, just as long as those in front
of me are not fucking things up with their thumbs up their
butts. Well guess what folks, a line that went out the door
and around the walkway was stymied by a room with four rows
of tables full of good eatin grub and about ten people getting
food and another twenty jackin jaws, causing the damn back-up.
I mention that this was otherwise a great shindig? And no
doubt others had a great time. Rank and Revue's own Chad Holt
had a rockin good time! Dressed in his Sunday go to meetin'
suit, he was hit up by a few folks letting him know he had
some serious brass balls for showing up. Well he's got the
balls and he has the class to one-up anyone there.
final note to the night's events, it always amazes me how
the people in Austin let their own kids act like little heathens
and busy about everyone else's kid.
it were, little Mr. Jefferson Pinkus (son
of J. Pinkus) got thrown out of the moonwalk for defending
himself. Here is his review of
was in the moon jump, with Gus and Kavic. Kavic is Crow's
boy. Gus is Snoopy's son. I went past the chicken and went
to the deserts. I almost got beer but they didn't have what
I wanted. I didn't like the girls. They were so enjoying they
should have put a moon jump for the girls to. I got into a
fight with one of the girls. I only used self-defense. I got
kicked out. It was 30 minutes before I came back. I want to
go back next year. I also wonder how much trouble I will get
-- Jefferson Davis Pinkus
lastly if you're a big dumb oaf, and have "chronic fatigue"
don't bully your way through a beer line, pour beer on, and
then smart off to somebody. You will likely get your ass kicked.
This is just what happened to one of our bro's, only he restrained
himself and was the better man for not pummeling the bonehead.
Like Jefferson says, can't wait till next year…
Thunder @ EGO’S “Honky Mondays”
seeing Damon Obanion sing for Dixie Waste, I couldn’t
wait to see him again with Drunken Thunder, a Houston band
since 1990, in which he is flanked by guitarists Rigo Perez
and Eric Bush, Trevi Sebastian Biles on bass, and Bobby the
Cock on drums. I showed up amped for more of Damon’s
ripping punk vocals and cute take-it-or-leave-it antics. But
uh… somehow, being inside this hole-in-the-garage bar
gets me goofy quicker than normal. Or maybe there was a spell
on me… whatever rabbit hole I’d slipped into,
I can’t remember too much about this night except being
held captive in a dark corner by a big furry evil firbolg
while a coven of snarling witches pointed and laughed, and
the sound of rock debauchery raged around me.
day after, Drunken Thunder was all a blur, so I caught up
with their singer, Damon Obanion:
Aw, the Ego’s show? I was drunk too! It was a blast,
and it’s always a pleasure playing with Honky, we have
a history playing with them, we’re like brother bands.
We played some new songs that night, which we’re recording
with Pinkus right now. That album should be coming out in
Mr. Pinkus himself just happened to be at my house as we spoke,
so I asked him how that was going.
Well, the computer took a shit, [blabbedy blah computer shit
talk]… but it’s coming out cool, I like working
with those guys.
Damon and I recollected the rest of the evening. Paris Hilton
and Johnny Depp were seen together at the show, and the crowd
was out of control, throwing beer bottles and heckling Miss
Hilton, who kept holding up two fingers (the wrong ones) and
slurring, “I am not a tramp!” The boys slammed
through 15 of their 30-song rep, then in the typical Drunken
Thunder fashion, ended the show with a full-on rock stadium
bow. They like to have a good time and be silly, and they
hope to play as much as possible.
Discography and other cool band junk can be found at www.drunkenthunder.com
– I’m going there now to re-remember them. No,
I will never grow up.
City/The Dickins/Halo Rings Her Head
Ego’s Punk Rock BBQ
There’s no better way to cure a hangover than to get
drunk again. So I met Jonna Rose at Ego’s on Saturday
afternoon for beer and BBQ. And because, dammit, I wanted
to see the Dickins. I’d been hearing great things about
them for awhile. When I got there, I was pleasantly surprised
to find out that some old friends of mine were playing as
Halo Rings Her Head is kind of an ambient, moody, “Oh
my Goth, did you just hear that? Did you see that?”
band. I’m always intrigued by bands that have that kind
of internal metronome type of thing going where they don’t
even seem to realize how tight they actually sound. Also,
there’s no singer, which is always a plus for me.
Next up was the Dickins. What a perfect band to drink Pabst
Blue Ribbon to—heavy. If you guys didn’t already
know what a badass Mike Belyea is, then you need to see this
band. What an amazing voice this guy has. I think I’m
in love with him. He can sound like Tom Araya from Slayer
and switch over to a snotty generic punk rock voice with each
Slum City played next, and I’m pretty sure one of the
girls was just as drunk as I was at that point—because
she kept saying that she was hammered! Regardless, they were
fine by me. I like seeing girl bands that don’t suck.
Even though there is a giant corn-fed boy playing drums, the
girls are right at the forefront. Dig it!
This event shouldn’t be missed, especially if you like
beer and BBQ. The profits go to good local causes, too. See
Ego’s, December 8th
you had an awe-inspiring weekend spent on Red River seeing
all the great illustrious local Rock bands at one of the eight
outstanding drinking/music establishments. Come Monday if
you find that you are one of the diehard music fans and need
something to help get you through to the next weekend, go
see Honkey at Ego’s. They have started playing a regular
Monday “happy hour” gig at the funky local sub-apartment-complex
bar. When I heard that the hard rockin’ Honkey was going
to play there, I had visions of the front door busting off
the place and smoke pouring out with the opening riff of their
first song. Ego’s has always seemed a bit claustrophobic
to me, the parking garage ambience surrounding the front door
lends an underground feel to the place, not to mention the
slightly surreal feeling you get just walking up to the almost
nondescript door while you’re thinking “Man, what
if I lived here? That would be awesome!” Pinkus took
the stage somewhere around 9 with a banjo and sang a little
ditty while he sawed at a wah pedal as he was a pickin’.
Banjwah that is. Bobby and Kenny took the stage as Pinkus
got his bass and metaphorically the front door busted off
as the veteran rockers leapt into musical action. Honkey plays
more notes in one song than other bands play all night, the
riffage Honkey puts into one song is more than most bands
have on one album, and yet, they are but three men. Playing
a slew of hard rockin songs including ‘Lung Punch’
and ‘Smokin’ Weed With Helios Creed’ and
Honkyfied covers such as ZZ’s ‘I Thank You’
the Honkey boys showed the meager crowd where it was at. Go
see Honkey at Ego’s, your shakin’ booty will thank
ya for it.
Flamingo Cantina, Saturday, December 13
Ducktails and Creepers, chains and spikes, cuffed jeans and
flame-painted leather, and dammit these rockabilly boys are
so into their grooming that I’d swear they were all
gay, if they weren’t so… cool. Hair-do’s
like a shark sitting on your head. OW! This is not my scene,
and I don’t know much about rocka/psycha-billy stuff,
but here comes a band that turned my Metal head with a sound
and style of their own concoction.
Concombre Zombie is a lean & mean psychobilly trio, all
powerful and hard-hitting players, with one of the slammin’est
stand-up bass players around – sometimes off-track from
his drummer and sometimes upstaging him with his highly percussive
finger slapping. It took a while to figure out where that
bone-rattling rat-a-tat-tat was coming from – the bass
slayer! His bass adds a unique element of style to the music,
and also serves as a billboard for his commitment
to the band, with fucked-up skulls and the band logo plastered
all over it. Talented, vicious, and committed. CZ worked it
hard, ripping through a fast-paced set for their dolled-up
fans, who stood back and dug the show with some reserve. The
too-cool crowd finally started slamming on the next-to-last
song, “Buried Alive” – which I really dug.
Overall the show was not as exciting as the first time I saw
them at Cucaracha, maybe because my expectations were higher
this time than when I had just wandered in and heard this
nasty Texas growl, looked up and seen these heavy dudes tearing
it up all crazy! I was missing the Chris Issac cover, which
they had done very heavy and ultra-cool; the song was a great
vehicle for the frontman’s vocal talent. Without that
song the set lacked variety, but still tore it up full-throttle.
Check these guys out!!
Rock Stars, Thurs., Dec 11th
Catching wind of the Caucus Club/Matt Meshbane
debacle, I wandered down Sixth Street to check out both the
new venue for Meshbane’s acts and those most sublime
of mod-rockers (mockers?), the Golden Apples. Named for Eris’
scheming temptation in the halls of Olympus, the former members
of such disparate combos as Jet Jaguar, Tyrant Swing, the
(Texas) Instruments and the Shindigs have formed a band to
give any self-respecting Creation fan a much needed shot in
the arm. And check out Steve Chapman’s drum work on
“ Everything in Between” . Sure it’s the
lick from “ Tomorrow Never Knows” , but that part
is looped backwards on Revolver. Chapman gets it perfect in
As for the venue of Rock Stars, if Meshbane
has his way, there will be another venue for live, original
music on Sixth again. Good for him. I still miss the Cannibal
Club. And kudos to him as well for telling the management
of the Caucus Club to screw themselves when he caught wind
of their mismanagement of band money. That’s the diplomatic
way to say it. Rock Stars is a bit cheesy, having formerly
been a disco, but with the momentum rolling, come SXSW, those
LA scumbags will have a place in which to feel right at home.