King Khan and the Shrines at Triple Rock Social Club on 5/16/09

By: Donette Ambrosy

---

King Khan and the Shrines - Photo by Jenn Barnett More photos forthcoming.

My anticipation for what I expect to be a really great show can sometimes get me overly wound up, prompting me to engage in uncharacteristically sassy and even unsavory behavior. The King Khan & The Shrines show at the Triple Rock on Saturday, May 16 was no exception. I should have known the evening would be raucous from the moment I left the house in a black leather motorcycle jacket, bright red lipstick, and 4” platform heels. Starting the evening at the 331 Club for Art-A-Whirl, I teetered precariously from the start, while getting a good start on the blinding drunkenness that would punctuate the evening’s mayhem. 

There was some debate among my friends as to what sect of people is actually allowed to rock a motorcycle jacket, and whether I was among them. I stand by my wardrobe choice. Not only was it a chilly 40 degrees, but let’s face it – when King Khan is in town, feathered headdresses, leopard-print sports jackets, sequined flapper-cheerleader dresses, and bone necklaces are de rigueur. If that doesn’t give a tee-ball mom some temporary bad-ass license, I don’t know what does.

The shoes, on the other hand, proved a poor choice. Once at the Triple Rock, I frantically danced the night away in bare feet, the concrete floor cool and smooth (read: filthy and slimy) against my blister-ravaged feet. That I did intermittently suffer the shoes to achieve a higher vantage point is a testament to the incredible visual spectacle that is King Khan & The Shrines. That headdress! That cheerleader! Was I hallucinating sparkly rainfall, or was she at times employing some kind of shaker full of glitter? That is, when she wasn’t busy with the pom-poms. (What’s with the recent psychedelic cheerleader trend, by the way? Quintron & Miss Pussycat also rocked the kooky pom-squad shtick at The Entry back in April. But I digress.)

Triple Rock, all spinny - Photo by Jenn Barnett

Why not cheer? King Khan’s raw, soul-powered energy is, at the very least, worthy of celebration. The Berlin-based band is fronted (to use a complete understatement) by the illustrious showman King Khan, who reminds me of a modern-day James Brown…on acid. And nothing gets me quite so out of control on the dance floor as a great horn section, except maybe good bourbon. In this case, two saxophones, a trumpet, and several ounces of the aforementioned libation spun me into veritable dance frenzy. I wasn’t the only one, either. The sold-out venue was packed to the gills with hyper fans, who hollered and boogied tirelessly, worshipping at the altar of King Khan & The Shrines.

In case you haven’t noticed, this review is more about my outfit and drunkenness than it is about the actual music. That’s because it’s difficult to write an esoteric music-geeky dissection of the show when what you remember most clearly about it is how beautifully the room spun in time to the beat. A few things stuck with me, however. I do remember being simultaneously disgusted and intrigued during King Khan’s graphic description of being, um…reborn…in a most sexual way. And I do remember his clothes disappearing gradually as the evening wore on, culminating in him being shirtless, but caped. The feathered headdress was eventually replaced by what registered in my foggy perception as “a bucket with eyeholes,” but what I now recognize was actually something resembling a Darth Vader mask, which he sported during the hilarious encore of “I Took My Baby to Dinner.” “My baby’s fat! She’s ugly! But I love her!”

King Khan & The Shrines were joined by France Has The Bomb, and Mark Sultan, whom King Khan jokingly introduced as his “life partner.” Sultan and King Khan do, in fact have a partnership, in the form of King Khan & the BBQ Show, their two-man band, featured briefly before King Khan fully took the reins.

Sadly, I cannot offer any futher commentary on the opening acts – I was over on the other side of the bar, preoccupied with lining my stomach with my genius new concoction - a fried egg sandwich topped with mozzarella sticks & ketchup. I think it shall be aptly named “The Chubby Cheerleader,” and I hope to see it added to the Triple Rock’s menu soon. It left some great authentic-looking grease stains on my motorcycle jacket.

---

Location Info: Triple Rock Social Club
Artist Info: King Khan and the Shrines

Share this story:

Article comments powered by Disqus