I had a great time with the band, and I know that the boys were quite pleased with the whole tour in every respect.....well, except for us running over some rockslide debris in the middle of the road on Hwy 58 in Oregon on the way up there. I really had no choice but to hit the rock. The other options woulda been serious injury or death. The van ran great until 100 miles later when our oil light began flashing. We pulled over at a roadside gas station and discovered not just a leak but a major Valdez-style hemorrhage of oil. We had to wait for the rental company to tow a van out to us from Portland so that we could finish the last 80 miles drive. We got to the East End with barely enough time to spare to afford a few relaxing moments before it was Mayyors' time to play. If anything, all the anxiety that mishap had caused made the performance better.
Usually, when I see the Hunches, I stand in awe of Chris Gunn's guitar playing, and I just feel like I wanna soak it all in in the hopes that I will learn something about how to play the guitar better than...say, the level of skill the first Ill Repute 7". A buncha barre chords semi-fast. That's all I can manage even semi-decently after all these years. But more than any other guitarist I've seen, I think that Chris' wizardry does inspire me to pick up a guitar. Well...just before I could move aside Woodhouse's hair to focus on some masterful fretwork, I saw a different kinda intensity that brought out some unexpected mayhem, causing Chris to murder his guitar. I wasn't learning anything about how to
play a guitar, but it was still a fucking thrilling performance. After a few wild swings, he dropkicked his guitar and repeatedly hurled it until it had broken into four pieces. I noticed that Hart stopped flopping like a fish and watched on, seemingly as stunned as the rest of us were, while the rhythm section stayed so solid, vaunting that feedback notes for several minutes during the destruction. It was a rare and special kinda performance.
Eat Skull were pretty great, too. Berenn was a pretty good drummer the first time I saw her, but right now, she seems about 500% more comfortable and powerful, and I think that the band is even more solid now on the bedrock of tighter rhythm. It gives the spontaneously combustible aspects of the band more license to be more crazy. Guitar's not totally in tune, amps frizzing....no matter. JUST PARTY! This band is even more favorite now. I love these guys. It's so cute and sing-songy on the album; I didn't expect "Shredders on Fry" to be such a
mean song when they perform it live. Rob was exhorting the audience. The Fang cover was killer. And, of course, when Rod hits that one riff break in the middle of "Punk Trips," that's the most rousing moment. Front and center broke out drunken into a mosh everytime for that.
We retired to an old friend's house where we partied until after 5:00 a.m., but only after having a pretty decent torta al pastor for under $4 at Javier's on N. Lombard. We saw a fight almost break out there after some crusties stole a dude's burrito right off his table. Dude gave chase, but he was too fat to gain on them, so he gave up halfway across the tiny parking lot. It was kinda pathetic.
Next night in Seattle at Funhouse started with some hoops in the patio, where I was mostly way off, never stringing together more than three makes in a row. I hadn't shot in almost a year. We went inside in time to catch the last few songs of Partman Parthorse. Musically, they were way too gimmicky for me to like much, but the singer was quite a showman and fun to watch. He played up the Adonis angle so much that he even copped the hairdo of one of those Greek statues. Dude strutted around showing off the physique of a celebrity trainer and some crazy calisthenics and yogic action. When he pulled down the shorts to reveal the dong, though, I was disappointed that no one took the chance to yell the heckle "I guess we know which part is
not horse!" I mean, c'mon....whether it's true or not, that must happen.
Next up was a band called Pleasureboaters, and they were dancey and angular but not in the shitty dancey-and-angular-like-the-year-2002-reliving-1982 sorta way.....this was more like dudes with much better record collections and a better sense of humor and more jagged and raw. It was pretty fun. The only caveat with them is whether you can stand the vocals, which was no problem for me.
Mayyors played next. There was a feedback problem, and the bass was kinda buried and the drum-miking was poorly balanced. Yet, most people seemed impressed enough. Best night for merch sales.
The Intelligence followed, and this was the first I'd seen of the new four-member lineup that added a guitarist to the three-piece lineup that toured through the West Coast a while back. This was the best I'd seen them since the lineup that included Matt Factum on drums and Lee and Nicholas of Popular Shapes. Some nerds were jumping on each others backs throughout the show which touched off a little bit of mayhem, which pulled in the one and only brodawg in the room. I got flung by this guy and hit a really wet spot on the floor and went sailing far and fast, ending up drenched.
Photos from this show are here...
http://www.flickr.com/photos/invisiblehour/sets/72157605523228680/Party followed at Lars' house, which also carried on 'til the sun came up.
The next night in Portland at the Twilight started with Psychedelic Horseshit. Just Matt and Rich and a tape of Kevin? The tape player was very faulty, and the band was so extremely loose, there were some times where it was painful to listen. But Matt kept it funny and fun to watch at least. At one point, when the tape machine was messing up, he just started gesticulating toward the crowd like a magician going "hocus pocus!" or something. Fabulous Diamonds came next, but I didn't even notice they'd started until a few songs had gone by. It seemed like the crowd was ready for some mayhem to happen, but this was starting off a little bit too slow. I had a good feeling that this was playing right into the Mayyors' hands, and it did. Things broke off when the crowd finally heard some loudness and aggression. Eat Skull kept the mayhem rolling. Lars came down from Seattle and yelled heckles from atop a table about "CLOWNING ON BITCHES." There were actually a few dudes there who were informed enough about that inside joke to have a good laugh. In the
Portland Mercury for this week, there was a write-up about the new Eat Skull record which referenced "clowning on bitches" as if it was taking it at least half-seriously as an actual genre. PROOF:
http://www.portlandmercury.com/portland/Content?oid=791734&category=237893) I wrote a letter to the editor chiding this writer for not putting it in all caps.
Afterparty commenced at Rob's house, but we went to go get a box of donuts to bring back. While at Voodoo Donut, we saw this totally whacked drag queen who fell in love with Woodhouse's hair, comparing it to Kelly Liebrock's in her Pantene Pro-V commercials. Back at the party, we viewed some fine doodle masterpieces that should go on the next Eat Skull records and shot the shit with everybody, and TermBo was referenced several times throughout the night.
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