It’s easy to get your
rocks off when someone — anyone — is watching. The true test of a musician
is when one can pour it all out with little or no feedback. Baby, it’s a breeze
and we’re all rock stars when they’re all drunk and flailing in front of the
stage. But when the number of people on stage out numbers those in the club, it’s work. So last Friday I went to Milestones to see my
rockabilly boys (sadly a minority in this burg) Krypton 88 work and slave on the band stand. Warming up for
Canadian SRV disciple David Gogo, the band sounded big and echo-y (bodies soak up
the high end, donchaknow) and bopped through some
classics including the King’s “Paralyzed.” Ain’t heard that one in years.
They sounded slick and shiny like Jim Via’s big
orange guitar.
Zipped over to
WaterStreetMusic Hall to see A Flock OF Seagulls.
Remaining Seagull Michael Score no longer sports his ’59 Cadillac do, and looked uncomfortable and bored. I’ve never liked synthesizers — or trusted them, anyway — but the band
actually didn’t sound all that bad.
Waxing philosophical
one night with Dick The Dancing Record, we concluded
that 40 is the new 20. Now, I’m not knocking the tykes, but some of the best
bands coming from Rochester lately have been marinated and seasoned in various outfits
over the years and are now putting out some great music. The Atomic Swindlers, The Margaret Explosion, The
Veins, The Grinders, The Quitters, to name a few, have members
approaching their 40s, in their 40s, or over 40. And we’re talkin’
good music here too.
This started to make
even more sense when The New York Vaults played The Spy Bar Friday. The band eventually mounted the stage perhaps a
little somber but proceeded to blast forth the type of rock ‘n’ roll that just ain’t in a kid’s vocabulary. Sure, some of the younger kids
in the joint dug it. But if they wanna play it —
and play it right — they’re gonna have to wait
until they’re older.
This article appears in May 3-9, 2006.
