Show Review: Huntress, Char Man: 12/4/10

And so then I decided to make up for the laziness of the previous month by pulling one of my all time favorite moves of going to two shows in one night. And tonight’s manouervre, the tricky proposition of going back and forth between two shows, was made feasible only by the close proximity of the venues. And so it began. I ditched out on the crew going for pre game sustenance at Taqueria Cancun to squeeze into Sub Mission Gallery just in time to catch the whole set of Hooray For Everything. This band has Jamie Sanatate, one of the original guitar players of Annihilation Time, on drums, some other bloke on bass, and a lady who sings and plays guitar. I was struck this time, having no distractions really to keep me from putting full attention on the band, by how retro they sound, and by retro I mean 90s retro, because it’s not straight up garage pop/garage rock; it has these little flourishes of post punk punk weirdness to mix things up. They seem to remind me of The Muffs, which may be a lazy comparison due to the raspy female vo-killz.

I bolted right at the end of the set, and I had to come up with a HELL of a story, let me tell you, for the bouncer of Sub Mish, to leave and be allowed to come back in. The fascistic no ins n outs policy of that venue was indeed the greatest obstacle in my quest of becoming immortal that night, but I believe I negotiated it rather well.

MEANWHILE BACK AT BENDER’S: The show still hadn’t begun yet, but a pretty good crowd was building. Dark Black began playing. They’re from Portland and they sound kind of like the simpler and more accessible songs of Diamondhead. I caught a couple of songs only before heading back over to Sub Mish. Walking past the Beauty Bar, I pulled some dude’s stupid ass engineer hat down over his eyes, then punched him repeatedly in the nose. Then I pushed him over onto the garbage strewn sidewalk, took out his iPhone and set it to vibrate, and shoved it up his ass. Sideways. I love The Mission these days!

MEANWHILE BACK AT SUB MISSION: Char-Man was already playing when I walked in. these were some dudes from the Ventura county area, playing dead simple rock music. I found it pleasing, mainly because it was these mexican kids, wearing sunglasses, looking tuff while they played. It worked. Plus, the drummer was Tony Bro, the old drummer for Annihilation Time! I felt a tap on my shoulder, I looked over and it was Porcho! Ventura was indeed in the house. I awkwardly stuck around in between Char-Man and Unfun, forcing undrunk (that's right I was NOT drinking this night! Unbelievable.) conversations with the few who were straggling inside the venue. Most of the crowd was jammed out on the back smoking patio, and I had no desire to sardine with this mass of (in?)humanity, nor inhale their fumes. Unfun had been in town last a few months prior, and I believe that they were STILL ON TOUR! Almost home though. Fuck. Yes, they sound like Jawbreaker, but with the raspy vocal thing taken to such and extreme that it's almost like death metal vocals. A strange combo.

MEANWHILE, BACK AT BENDER'S:
Dark Black had finished, and now everyone was milling about waiting for Huntress to begin. After a while, they did. I had seen them the night before, so I knew what to expect: NWOBHM style rock, with four blokes on instruments and one lass with a microphone belting it out. Anyone who denies that the big focus here is not the music, but the stage presence of singer Jill Tuesday, has no penis, or if they do, they don't like to put it in vaginas. She has a strong voice, "Roberta Halford" comparisons were thrown around, and took command of the stage, bar tables, umm... projector screen, whatever she could get her claws on. The crowd ate it up.

Next were Walken, San Francisco self proclaimed kings of rock. They did proclaim that, right? If they didn't they deserve it anyway. They were their usual selves, and I believe I've described their sound elsewhere in this stupid blog before. Playing while wasted is something that most of us have mastered pretty well, and it seems they have too, as it's quite necessary when headlining Bender's.

After the show we battled assholes for taxi cabs, went to a party in the Western Addition, and later passed out back in the Mission at about 5AM.

R.I.P. Makh Daniels: 8/16/10

I really had to go to this show, even though it was Monday night and I was tired, and not just to see some great bands, but because it was a memorial fundraiser for Makh Daniels, a local hardcore singer, recently killed in a tragic tour van accident. Now let it be said that I didn’t know this guy at, I wasn’t even a huge fan of his band Early Graves, but so many of my friends, including ones whom I respect highly as exellent judges of character, hold this guy in such high regard that obviously he was a a bad ass. When I got there, At Our Heels was playing. I’d never heard of them, and they sounded like run of the mill metalcore. I don’t know if they were on tour or not, but they asked from stage for people to buy their merch, which seemed kind of weird, considering it was aa show to raise money for a dead guy.

Daikon was next. (The band name is a Chinese Radish!) It was Zack from Walken’s sister’s band, and he told me I probably wouldn’t like it very much, due it’s extreme poppiness, but I did. If my limited memory serves me correctly, it was something like a throwback to the late 90’s pop punk of Tsunami Bomb. After that I finally got to see Pills. Al from Acts of Sedition plays bass in this band, and they even practice in the same building on the same night as Hazzard’s Cure. For years, I had never been able to catch a show, not that had really been playing a lot of shows either. Their deal is a 90’s style of enraged technical hardcore, which I have grown rather tired of in recent years, and which I would usually ignore, but when buddies are involved, things change, and I was drawn in. It also didn’t hurt that all the bands were playing attention span friendly three song sets.

It had been a while since I saw Walken, with Sean living in Texas (now back!) and only the most sporadic shows. The melancholy harmonies and and remorseful southern twang which permeates the Walken riffs seemed extremely appropriate for this occasion. Half of Walken remained onstage and Grayceon began straightaway, performing the shortest set I’ve ever seen them do, but continuing the mood of mysterious gloomy epicness that Walken brought to the table. That ended the night for me, although I believe more bands played. I was very impressed by the amount of people and bands who came together and made this benefit happen in such a short amount of time. Sometimes the rock scene does feel like a community and not a high school.

R.I.P.