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Thursday, May 01, 2003 Kick Out the Jams
The Flash Express, The SuperBees at The Rock, April 25 Far be it from me to chastise you--a fair, open-minded and undoubtedly thoughtful reader--but judging by the attendance at local shows of late, you simply don't know what you're missing. And I'm not talking about one show. I'm talking about three shows at three different venues that all took place within the span of a week. And--though each highlighted vastly different approaches to rock 'n' roll--they had a couple of things in common: (1) They rocked and (2) almost nobody was there to see them. Take the 440s show at the Double Down two Saturdays ago, for example. In just under an hour, the Tucson-based greaser metal quartet thundered through a set that left the meager crowd of drunken gearheads pounding the tables for more. Or how about the recent Rocket from the Crypt show at the Huntridge? A blustering homage to all things good about the last 40 years of rock 'n' roll, only four or five dozen Rocket devotees (a sad crowd even by Monday standards) witnessed its whacked-out, soulful ferocity. Which brings us to the 2003 Vegas Invasion last Friday at the Rock. In front of 50-odd spectators (not even enough asses to fill all the stools in the main showroom), SoCal garage rockers The Flash Express and The SuperBees kicked up a storm of sweaty electric blues fierce enough to rattle fillings out of their sockets. Perhaps nowhere was this more palpable than in the peacock strut of Flash Express singer/guitarist Brian Waters, who--shucking and jiving like the Godfather of Soul himself--reminded everyone, "When you got no guts, you got no guts to spill." Not far behind were The SuperBees, whose matching black trousers and full-blown guitar growl hinted at what it must have been like to see MC5 back in the day. Refusing to be outdone by Waters' righteous swagger, the Bees' set culminated in "Girl from Kansas City"--a feedback-soaked romp that would've sent chills of nostalgia down your spine. So while you were sitting home, waiting for your chance to win Beastie Boys tickets on Xtreme, the rock 'n' roll was blowing up all over Vegas proper. Of course, it's not over. The onset of summer promises a plethora of amplified pandemonium, but you're going to have get off your ass and get out to a venue (which, chances are, will be rocking). Don't make me tell you twice.--Newt Briggs |
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