Chronicle Xmass Bash….

Fine 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.

Unfortunately.....

Damn 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.

Watching 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.

Hey 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.

Did 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.

A 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.

As it were, little Mr. Jefferson Pinkus (son
of J. Pinkus) got thrown out of the moonwalk for defending himself. Here is his review of
the Moonwalk:

"I 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 into".
-- Jefferson Davis Pinkus

And 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…

Drunken Thunder @ EGO’S “Honky Mondays”
December 15

After 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.

The day after, Drunken Thunder was all a blur, so I caught up with their singer, Damon Obanion:

Damon: 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 Spring 2004.”
Mr. Pinkus himself just happened to be at my house as we spoke, so I asked him how that was going.

Pinkus: 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.

- Beky Hayes

Slum 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 well.
.
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 song change.

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 you there.

–Corri Mava

Honky
Ego’s, December 8th

So 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.

-James E

Concombre Zombie
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!!

-Bek Sabbath

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