26th August 2010

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Nobunny/Jacuzzi Boys at the Knitting Factory

What a show to forget my camera. As each member of Nobunny took the stage, things got progressively goofier; the guitarist was wearing a Zorro mask, the bassist was wearing a Silence of the Lambs mask, the drummer was dressed kind of like a big baby, complete with oversized novelty bowtie, and Nobunny himself was covered in weird and creepy accessories. Of course, there was the bunny mask, unnerving enough on its own, but in addition to that nightmare-inducer, he was sporting blue briefs and no pants (oh, and so were the drummer and bassist) with a special cottontail, a red ball-gag draped around his neck, and a pair of handcuffs hanging from his waist. Oh, and he had a carrot taped to his microphone. Now, with all that shit happening, you might worry that they put all their effort into appearance, and may lack in the performance department, but don’t sweat it. They sound exactly how you’d want a band dressed that way to sound. Having already heard their record, I wasn’t really expecting them to put on as fantastic a show as they did, but Nobunny turns out to be one of those special performers (like the Mummies, for instance), where no recording could ever do them justice.

Cell phone camera again… lame.

The entire set was full of jaw-dropping moments, but I think the craziest thing happened during their first song. The group got maybe half of the way through “Nobunny Loves You” before a guy pushed his way to the front (right in front of me, by the way), started grabbing empty beer cans and cups, and hucking them at the band. A couple seconds after this, a full one came back his way, but missed its mark, and ended up getting me more than anything else. A half-second later, Nobunny had walked over, at which point I attempted to get some distance from the scenario. This turned out to be a good idea, because, somehow, the disgruntled audience member managed to grab the guitar out of the man’s hands, and swung it against the stage, before yelling “FAGGOT!” and running away. He didn’t get too far before Nobunny caught up to him. One might be worried this would put a damper on things, but just a few seconds later, the show continued, Nobunny continuing to play the guitar, now down to four strings, and shit rocked even harder. I was covered in beer, and it was awesome. Someone got a picture of me all wet, so here’s hoping that surfaces soon.

Throughout the rest of the performance, Nobunny would fall down, sit in girls laps, get tangled in microphone cables, slap a cowbell, and perform the “suck it” sign multiple times. Perhaps most hilarious, some young ladies would get up on stage, start doing some R. Kelly shit to him (you know, grind on him, suck on his fingers, attempt to fellate him, the usual), and he would turn down their advances in order to feel himself up. That’s a true artist.

Musically, I couldn’t ask for more. Stomping, blazing garage punk, and the few cuts heard from the new record were definitely taking things to a new level. Of course, my favorite part was probably the Spinal Tap cover, but then again, that would probably be my favorite part of any show in which it was included.

Nobunny is proof that drunkenness can lead to some awesome shit.

Now, I shouldn’t forget the opener, Jacuzzi Boys. They knocked out some sweet Dinosaur Jr.-inspired jams, complete with stomping drums, psychedelic face-melting guitar licks, and punchy bass. In other words, they had all the parts you need for a kickin’ set. They were a bit rough around the edges, like you’d hope (at one point, the guitarist accidentally muted himself, confusedly exclaiming into the microphone “what the fu…?”) and knew how to get heavy grind going. My only complaint was they they had too many bookbags.

Tagged: nobunnyknitting factoryjacuzzi boyswpodfuck you

3rd July 2010

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The Oblivians/Andre Ethier at The Knitting Factory

Just in case you missed it, The Oblivians, supported by Andre Ethier, put on a free concert Thursday night at the Knitting Factory. Although I’m not a big fan of corporate involvement in music, I guess I should show some appreciation to Scion for sponsoring the event, not only because I didn’t have to pay money to go, but also because they were giving out free Black Lips/Pierced Arrows splits, and I snagged two of them. So, that was cool of them. But enough shilling. Let’s talk about rock.

Andre Ethier, photo courtesy of my crappy phone camera.

Opening up the night was Andre Ethier, with whom I was pleasantly surprised.  To me, his set sounded like the psychedelic sounds of Bob Dylan. Ethier had the kind of stream of consciousness vocals that few people can really pull off, and when you hear someone do it right, it’s really something special. Whoever was on lead guitar duty that night was really driving it home. I’m hoping that’s not the last I’ll hear from Andre Ethier.

The Oblivians - another picture taken with my phone camera. Anyone want to be my photographer?

The fucking Oblivians. If you’re not with it, the Oblivians fucking rock. That’s all you should need to know in order to be caught up with what’s going on. They hit the stage, and annihilated for an hour and fifteen minutes before taking a couple of minutes off before the encore.  I lost count of how many songs they played (can you blame me? they’re all a minute and a half long) but I did manage to keep track of how many fights broke out: three and a half. That half fight was when a girl poured her beer out on a guy’s head… it would have been a fight, but they were both too scared to hit someone of the opposite gender. Of course, things never got past a bro-style “hold me back!” exchange, as the crowd seemed to be able to completely separate aggressive-types, so things only seemed energetic, not dangerous. Exactly what you want at a punk rock show.

Each member of the group got to have several turns leading things, and everyone seemed to know exactly what’s up. After their reunion tour last year, they seem to be in fantastic shape; the band rocked exactly as hard as I’d always hoped they would. When Greg Oblivian sat behind the drum kit so Jack O could have a turn on the mic, things got both sloppier and cleaner, somehow at the same time.  Greg’s drunken southpaw style on the drums was loads of fun to watch, and Jack’s songs had their own unique punch to them that I really appreciated; “Strong Come On” might be the best minute-and-thirty seconds of music of all time. For the encore, the guys brought up a friend to play some organ, and, of course, they continued to kick everyone’s asses.

If you ever get the chance, you need to see the Oblivians. They did mention they’d all just moved up to Queens, by the way… I’m hoping we’ll be seeing them around more in the future.

Tagged: strong come onstuck in thee garageBeing at a punk rock show always reminds me I need to have more sideburnsoblivianseconofuck youholee shitkick out the jams motherfuckermissgofuckyourself

6th February 2010

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So much of the time when people talk about “songwriting,” they actually mean “lyric-writing.”  It seems like the song itself is ignored almost completely, given the most boring, simple treatment possible.  It’s offensive to music, it’s lazy, and I think it’s a cowardly evasion of something nobody really understands, a question which has so much importance: what is it about a specific piece of music that has an effect on you that you simply can’t stop? It’s something intrinsic in the sound, and, oftentimes the words have nothing to do with it.

Lyrics are of secondary interest to music.  In a perfect composition, the words will be intelligently or cleverly written, and perhaps would work well on their own, but it is the music itself which makes it something without which you could not live.  When lyrics are what you focus on first, before sound, you are a literary critic, not a music appreciator.  You’re missing the point.

Tagged: fuck you