The Big Green House

Monday, September 29, 2003

 

Pabst Blue Ribbon, neighbor

FM Knives, The Spits, The Intelligence, Sunset Tavern, 9/27/03

I�d never been to the Sunset for a show before, although I once spent a rather desultory St. Patrick�s Day evening there during its previous incarnation as a dive bar. It was the kind of place that had a drain in the middle of the floor & probably had more than one opportunity to put it into use. (Thanks to Science Girl�s friend C. for remembering that little detail.) Now it�s done up in faux Chinese restaurant style � lotsa red, black, and gold everywhere (including the incredibly sticky carpet; maybe they shoulda kept the drain after all), ideograms on just about every flat surface, �vintage� framed Asian advertising posters, etc. I�m not sure if this is progress, exactly, but I guess it�s better than the nicotine-stained walls I remember.

The Intelligence went on around 10:30 � 11:00. To be honest, I found them somewhat monotonous, myself. There just wasn�t much tension in their music. They�d find a vaguely Fall-esque groove and stick with it until the song petered out. Lather, rinse, repeat. SG said she heard some Bauhaus influence as well. Not my idea of a good time, but some folks seemed to be digging it. Take that for whatever it�s worth. It was a short set, anyway.

The Spits were up next. I�m not really sure what to say about them. On the one hand, their sound was really good � guitar bass drums punk, fleshed out with some obnoxious (in a good way) two key synthesizer stabs and harmonies (!) between the bass player and guitarist, who traded off lead vocals. Bonus points were awarded for sporting the Unabomber look � all four members hit the stage in zipped-up hoodies and mirrored aviator shades. Very stylish, indeed. On the other hand� um, I suspect these boys had been drinking a little before the show. Given that this was a Saturday night show, I�d guess they got started Thursday morning. After the first three songs, every number was billed as the last for the night. There was a lot of fucking around between songs, including some fairly incoherent audience-baiting (I haven�t heard the phrase �You fuckin� pussies!� this much since, oh, maybe seventh grade), pouring beer on those down front, hitting various audience members with mike stands and guitars, etc. The audience, for their part, kept up a steady barrage of empty cups, ice, wads of paper, and who knows what else. Overall, lots of testosterone and cheap beer* flying around. It got tiresome after awhile. When they could be bothered to play, though, The Spits were pretty good. I, for one, wouldn�t mind seeing them again, as long as they were denied beer until after the show.

As Brian the promoter swept up all the crap thrown on stage, a large portion of the audience (friends of The Spits?) went home. Out of a crowd of maybe 150, I�d say 75 left early. Which was very much their loss.

In a perfect world I wouldn�t have to tell you about FM Knives, because you�d already know and love them. They�d be all over the radio, which would still be locally owned and operated; national music magazines (which would know enough to cover actual musicians rather than manufactured starlets and hideous pseudo-bands) would feature them prominently on their covers; MTV, of course, would never have happened.

Things being what they are, this is quite possibly the first time you�ve heard of the band. It is therefore my great privilege and pleasure to inform you that these guys are simultaneously the bee�s knees, the cat�s pajamas, the otter�s housekeys, and the nudibranch�s pituitary gland. By which I mean to say they�re quite good. Their songs are very much of the melodic school of punk, a la the Buzzcocks. The band themselves were loose yet tight, if you follow me; it appeared that the singer had (at least) a nice buzz going on, but there wasn�t a lot of extraneous bullshit to slow things down. In other words: less fucking around, more rockin�. And quality rockin�, at that. Those of us who stayed around saw and heard a great show** (including, I�m happy to say, the keyboard player for The Spits, who was merrily bopping away right down front). Do yourself a big favor and see FM Knives if/when they come to your town.

*What is this fascination you kids have with Pabst Blue Ribbon? It can�t be the taste. I mean, I�ll drink PBR when I can�t afford anything else, but it sure as hell ain�t my beer of choice.

There. I�ve just cemented my old-fart status. If anyone wants me, I�ll be clipping Metamucil coupons over here in the corner.

**Except for the three boys involved in the virtually non-stop homoerotic cabaret directly in front of Science Girl and myself. I don�t think they saw much of the show, as they were much too busy punching each other on the shoulder, grabbing each other around the neck in headlocks, and, at one point, rolling around on the floor together. One of them had a punkette �date� with them, standing off to the side with a fairly bemused look on her face. I wonder if she knew she was gonna be their beard for the night?

bmarkey 9/29/2003 08:03:00 PM