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Kick Out the Jams

Ill Repute, Bad Samaritans and Agent Orange at the Cooler Lounge, Feb. 8

A hand-scrawled sign posted outside the Cooler on Saturday night said it all: "Sold Out." Inside, the bar was crammed from end to end with nogoodniks of every shape and size--all there to bask in the faded-leather glory of the punk rock of yore. Ahh, yes, the perfect moment to apply the three fundamental tenets of punk-show preparedness:

1. Purge yourself of all fluids before entering the venue. Failure to observe this rule will significantly increase the chance that you will have to relieve yourself during the show. If you're lucky (and those of us who stuck around to see Agent Orange most assuredly were not), there won't be a half-inch deep layer of piss-water sloshing across the bathroom tiles, but why take the chance?

2. Forget any notions about personal space. At a crowded show, you're inevitably going to end up pressed against other people. While this may occasionally be an appealing member of the opposite sex, it is far more likely to be a shirtless, sweat-slick behemoth with a spiderweb tattooed on his face. In these situations, it's best to just ride it out; struggling only makes it worse.

3. Wear clothes that you won't regret burning at the end of the night. Besides the aforementioned bodily fluids, your chosen garb will be assaulted by spit, vomit, flying beers and carelessly held cigarette butts. If at all possible, a flame-retardant poncho is highly recommended. You also might consider a sturdy pair of galoshes (see rule #1).

Now, if you made a good-faith effort to observe these rules, you really could have enjoyed the many highlights of the show: Ill Repute's "Cherokee Nation," the lightspeed flailing of Bad Samaritans' drummer, the bevy of scantily clad alterna-chicks hovering outside the mosh pit, and, of course, Agent Orange. Despite the fact that it hasn't made a decent album since its 1981 debut Living in Darkness, the Agent Orange trio still manages to wail, blending hardcore spunk and surf twang into a patchwork of sonic delights. Besides its one true classic, "Bloodstains," it also blasted out covers of Dick Dale's "Miserlou" and Jefferson Airplane's "Somebody to Love." And above all, they just looked happy to be there.

My guess: They had the good sense to pee before showing up.--Newt Briggs