By: Bob Longmore
 |
|
Reanimators - Photo by Bob Longmore
|
As I walked into the Spring Street Bar and Grill, I could hear the sound of machine gun drums rising up from the basement. I descended the concrete stairs and turned the corner into the punk rock rumpus room that is Club Underground, and an exuberant trio called Reanimators greeted me with their hardcore, Misfits- and Slayer-inspired rock. They were all snarls and sweat during their songs, and then all smiles in between; it was refreshing to see a band so devoid of hipster jadedness.
The Bullets front man Johnny Evans grabbed the microphone as if he was shotgunning a beer, and at the same time half straddled the stand. His voice was strong, and was the perfect mix between punk rock toughness and classic rock swagger.
Evans (formerly of Midnight Evils), guitarist Dave Feirn (Janis Figure) and bassist Joe Shake all stood close to the edge of the stage, and all at once they would lean forward across the edge and sing in unison. When this happened, it felt like they were coming out into the audience to get us.
Feirn, in his Jeff Spicolli checkerboard Vans, had all the rock star moves down as he played brilliant, scorching guitar lines. The Bullets are definitely a drinking band as Evans, beneath his breath, at one point said, “Man. I’m fucked up.” And this was before a tray of Jagermeister shots were delivered to the stage.
To end their set, the Bullets totally owned their version of AC/DC’s “Whole Lotta Rosie.” It was a perfect song for their sound; they are a punked-up version of the Australian band. As they ended their extended jam, Evans gave a final shout to the audience with a nonchalant, “Alright. Cheers!”
I had listened to a couple of The Rockford Mules' songs online, but that in no way prepared me for what I saw from them live. Every song was frantic, always moving forward and always seething with a southern tinged, hard rock sound.
 |
|
The Rockford Mules - Photo by Bob Longmore
|
Guitarist Ryan Rud set up his lap steel guitar on top of what looked like an old writing or sewing desk; regardless, probably picked up from a garage sale, or maybe his parent’s basement. The guys have an old school feel to them, and they look like they sound: big and sweaty and ready to kick some ass.
The band started with "Cold Rusty Shiver." Singer and guitarist Erik Tasa, with his muttonchops, growled the words into the microphone as the rest of the band pushed and pulled the song along. Then halfway through the song Ryan Rud started teasing the strings of his slide guitar, coaxing out a stuttering, psychedelic, staccato rhythm.
Personally, I have never seen anything like it before. As the band jumped back in with a blazing solo by Tasa, I picked my jaw up off the floor. It was at this point (only halfway through their first song) that the Mules had totally convinced me that they were going to be my new local band crush.
The band powered through an hour-long set, barely letting up the gas. There were heavy riffs, soaring solos and interlocking guitar play. Everything about the band was just spot on: the way that Tasa would spin and rock back and forth, and then jump at the microphone to scream the words. The way that bass player Craig Peck would bounce his head and shoulder slightly to the beat. And the way that Rud, sitting at his lap steel, would shoot a knowing glance every so often behind his right shoulder at drummer Joel Habedank.
The Rockford Mules sound is a dichotomy; like nothing you’ve ever heard before, but at the same time instantly recognizable. I was driving home with their finale, “Crooked Teeth,” still echoing in my ringing ears, and I was trying to come up with the perfect adjective for them. I had to make up a word: “dirtysouthernboogiehonkytonkrocknrollmetal.”
But for short, I could just call them “really fuckin’ good.”
Location Info:
Club Underground
Artist Info: Reanimators, The Bullets, The Rockford Mules
Share this story:
Article comments powered by Disqus
