Kick Out the Jams: Soda and His Million Piece Band at the Double Down Saloon, May 29

Soda and His Million Piece Band are a little bit country and a little bit rock 'n' roll. They're also a little bit ragtime, a little bit bluegrass and a little bit Dixieland. In a former life, Soda might have been a bus driver, or else he shops for hats at Goodwill. He beats on a little guitar and sings in an asthmatic baritone that makes him sound like he should be serving chipped beef on toast in the employee cafeteria at a button factory ("One, two, three, four, what can I get for ya today, sweetie?").

The other guys in the band--not a million, but six in all--play stand-up bass, electric guitar, acoustic guitar, steel guitar, mandolin, banjo and a variety of horns. Between songs, they switch instruments (everyone, that is, but the drummer and bassist), and when they're really dialed in, they sound like they're performing the soundtrack to a David Lynch remake of Bonnie and Clyde. At least that's what they sounded like Friday at the Double Down.

With the punks and greasers packed shoulder to shoulder, Soda and His Million Piece Band shuffled through a foot-stomping, bottle-tapping set of juke-worthy jams that smacked of Tom Waits backed by a combination of Morphine and the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion. Propelled by a brushed snare and the staccato strum of deadened strings, the Southern California seven-piece proved once again that just because a song swings doesn't mean it can't rock as well. Standouts were many, but the bluesy bounce of "Christine" had shaved heads bobbing and hipster perma-sneers arcing toward the ceiling.

It was a remarkable achievement considering that Soda didn't take the stage until well after midnight, and by that time the majority of the crowd seemed firmly in the grasp of a PBR-inspired sloth. But with the opening thump of the bass, any and all lethargy was swept away in a bubbling tide of Soda and blaring saxophones.--Newt Briggs