Balloons, a loincloth, self flagellation with a belt—this night had it all.
While considering going to see Throw Rag at the Ivy Room, I realized it’s been a while since I went to a show that was all dudes on stage, all night. To me, that’s just not the style of the Bay Area, or maybe I perceive it that way because I prefer mixed-gender bands. I also prefer challenging my assumptions rather than accepting them, so I thought I’d check this show out and see what’s what.
When I got to the venue I expected the crowd to lean towards the burly side, which it did but not as much as I thought it would. It was a mixed bag of punks in a variety of sizes and shapes. On the stage was a minimal drum kit dwarfed by large speakers. I also spotted a classic Fender Deluxe guitar amp awaiting its turn, tucked to the side. There were also several garbage bags of balloons, which led me to feel there might be some surprises this evening.
First up was Stigma 13, who quickly dispensed two vital bits of information:
1) Move forward
2) You’re about to have fun
I was already inches from the stage so #1 did not apply to me, and they did not lie about the latter. Smiling while cranking out some danceable pop punk, I was charmed by their great chord changes and vibrant energy. There was a baby-faced drummer winging his head around fast (so fast!) while not missing a beat, and the lead vocalist/rhythm guitarist took some physical risks climbing on wobbly tables which added a devil-may-care attitude. He also broke out a harmonica on one song and maracas on another, and who doesn’t like a boost of instrumental creativity in a punk song? My favorite song was “Velveeta” with its killer riff. It turned out the aforementioned bags of balloons were theirs, which they unleashed at their last song to the delight of everyone.
Them Creatures describe themselves as horror punk which is not my favorite genre. I don’t like horror films either, I mean, isn’t life scary enough? In any case, I did like their sound and so did the crowd. Concise drumming was built upon with the lead vocalist’s solid bass lines, and overlaid with melodic riffs by lead guitarist. Unlike the previous band, their style was straight no chaser: not a lot of interaction with the crowd, just very focused on playing their set and drawing us into their world. A couple of standout tunes were “Ftsfu” and “Don’t Care.”
Despite their lighthearted name, and the fact that they laid a sequined cloth over one of the large speakers, Flexx Bronco is all business. Don’t be distracted by the drummer wearing just a loincloth even though the folks behind me were.
Person 1: “What the fuck is the drummer wearing?”
Person 2: ”A fucking loincloth! Yeahhhhhh!”
They weren’t distracted for long once the music started, rock with a punk edge. I suppose you could also say punk with a rock edge. Either way, there was some heavy shredding as the two guitarists traded licks and there was one magic moment when both guitarists were riffing in unison. This was another band where the lead vocalist also played bass, underpinning his strong voice. He would occasionally blast up into a show of range and vibrato. I gravitated toward the classic punk of “Blondetourage” with three of the band members singing on the catchy chorus.
After they finished and were moving their gear off the stage, people started crowding in at the front of the room. They definitely had been hanging back until Throw Rag was up, and their moment had come. Sort of. Three of the band members were on stage with the bassist noodling around on his bass for a long while. Band members were looking sharp, wearing black dressy punkabilly clothes and white shoes. Eventually lead Sean Wheeler sauntered on stage wearing a black three-piece suit with white patent-leather loafers. Much of that clothing would be lost during the set, which was all part of the burlesque entertainment style. Wheeler strutted around the stage, occasionally interacting with bassist Francis Cronin in a flirtatious manner, sometimes doing a pose or a dance move, and slowly disrobing. All that didn’t distract from guitarist Patrick Bostrom’s non-stop generation of notes on his Gretsch hollow body guitar with the reverb cranked. Drummer Chango Von Streicher was a precise but heavy hitter on the drums, and his use of toms backed some sultry vibes on the slower bluesy songs. Even though they haven’t recorded since their 2008 album, 2nd Place, the fans gleefully sang along with songs from their discography.
By the time they reached their last song “Beast in Me,” Wheeler was down to just pants and shoes. All he had left to do was to take off his belt and use it to start whipping his well-tattooed back. With their sound ranging from blues to country to straight punk, along with these kinds of shenanigans, the evening ended on a high note. When they said they’d be back next year, I’m sure everyone in that room would be there including myself, who had indeed experienced several surprises during the evening. This included my assumptions about the kinds of shows I enjoy being challenged and vanquished, which was very satisfying.
Words and photos by Artemis Jones
