squeekybelly (squeekybelly) wrote,
squeekybelly
squeekybelly

Ahhh... nothing quite like posting to the sounds of beer fermenting. The gentle sound of bubbles poppin'...

Yesterday night, Mission of Burma took the stage at the Cabaret and it was glorious. Yes, the sound could have been better, especially Clint Conley's voice, but eh, it's not like you get to see living legends everyday. And unlike most "living legends", these guys hadn't played a show in like 20 years, and only played a handful of gigs.

A few things I noticed that was strangely new to me is that all three musicians on stage sing (there's actually 4 musicians in the band, but the tape-loop player stays by the soundboard). Second, most of the melody is actually carried by the base as opposed to the guitar, with all of the rythm work being done by the drumming. Roger Miller's (guitar) voice was strained, but he more than made up for it with sheer energy and verve. And seeing his chubby little head topped by those noise-reduction headphone made me smile.

Of course, they played all of their big songs (That's when I reached for my revolver, That's how I escaped my certain fate, Academy Fight Song) along with what seemed to me most of their output, except for the new album. They played only two or three numbers off of OnOffOn, but seeing as most of the crowd was there because they grew up listening to them or found out about them as they explored the roots of (intelligent) punk, it was all good.

The two opening acts were more problematic. The first one, Malajube, was more of a comedy act with competent playing, if really boring songs. Dunno how they ended up on the bill as I could easily think of local acts that would have been much better suited for this gig. The second act, Read Yellow, could have been interesting if only they had played more songs rather than long masturbatory passages. When they did play songs, they almost sounded like a much angrier version of early Jawbox, complete with Joy Division overtone. There was something that rubbed the crowd the wrong way about them though, myself included.

Now, all that's left is to see a reunion Husker Du show and I will be truly happy. If there is a punk rock fairy godmother out there...

Grab and scratch
Strange impulse
    to grab, at first sight
any piece of paper
    and lay down proper
all of your bright insights
    and secret loses.

Is it really any worse
    than just talking to anyone
when you know, perfectly well,
    that you might just as well
be speaking to no one
    or to your very own arse?

But then
    you decide
for no other reason
because you don't care
to drop
    any
pretense
of even trying to rhyme.

Face it.
No one wil ever see it
    anyway.

Fuck.
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