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Listings are
in the opposite order of appearance: headliner is listed at the top,
next is the support band(s),
and the last band listed is the opener.
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Thursday August 29
2019 8:30PM doors -- music at 9:00PM ••• ALL AGES $12 in advance / $15 at the door Tropical Fuck Storm from Melbourne, Australia www.groundcontroltouring.com/artists/tropical-fuck-storm alternative art punk CCR Headcleaner ccrheadcleaner.bandcamp.com/ new american punk rock Toyota discontinuousinnovationinc.bandcamp.com/album/toyota instrumentation \ New Wave Punk Rock Tropical Fuck Storm Gareth Liddiard and Fiona Kitschin, Lauren Hammel and Erica Dunn -from Melbourne, Victoria Australia -Tropical Fuck Storm is an Australian band from Melbourne, Victoria formed by Gareth Liddiard and Fiona Kitschin after taking a hiatus from the art-punk psych band The Drones. Lauren Hammel, from the band High Tension, plays drums and Erica Dunn, from the bands Harmony and Palm Springs, plays guitars, keys and other instruments. In a world where dissident writers are drawn and quartered, communists wear Rolexes, and Trump drives around with a fridge-full of blood; Tropical Fuck Storm’s new single is testament to the jester's duty. The Planet of Straw Men revives Tropical Fuck Storm’s art-punk manoeuvres with a political snarl that pulls your head in, without calling you out. Lauren Hummel’s drums unwind like a sonic mirage of a call to battle. The swagger of Fiona Kitschin’s bass line is as insecure as a parliamentary promise. And Erica Dunn’s uncorked guitars frolic throughout the track like a shit-faced fist fight. In this bare-knuckle ceremony, Tropical Fuck Storm have made a song and dance of diplomacies cheap-suit delusions of grandeur. “They want the glory of a coup de gras!” spits Gareth Liddiard; a broken bottle reminder that General Jack D. Ripper’s red-cap reincarnation is running the show—and how unsatirical this whole joke is. CCR Headcleaner Alex Cargile: Guitar, Vocals Justin Flowers: Drums, Vocals, Guitar Ned Meiners: Guitar, Vocals Mark Treise: Bass, Vocals, Synth -from the Bay Area, CA -I'd seen CCR Headcleaner several times before, usually an entertaining mess of fucked-up rock racket that emerged from the ashes of a Georgia band I liked called Long Legged Woman. But at their Hemlock show opening for Human Eye back in September, CCR somehow transmuted themselves from an unevenly good local band into a marauding gang of Scanners-style head-exploder telepaths and delivered a defining, transcendent, next-level performance. CCR's hypnotic and malevolent psychedelia wasn't faux-fun party-psych or disingenuously mellow Zen Center nature psych—it was more of a Jim Thompson's "Killer Inside Me" psych with elective self-surgery K-hole romps and post hate-fuck cuddle balladry. The band was possessed, the room was juiced, the audience transfixed. At points, CCR's set was suffused with a prosaic evil vibe that reminded me of the Rembrandt Pussyhorse/Locust Abortion-era Butthole Surfers live shows. Musically, CCR are way different than the Buttholes—I'm referring more to the air of all-pervading cathartic menace. Shortly afterwards, CCR went with Fuzz on a national tour (huge props to Fuzz for that act of public service) and I caught them a month later at Death By Audio in Brooklyn. They were in top road shape, which only underscored how special that show with Human Eye had been. -Anthony Bedard Bay Bridged Toyota -from San Francisco, CA -The San Francisco quartet brands itself as a nebulous corporation optimizing the production of punk. Toyota is a fairly new group, formed less than six months ago, and there's little information available about it online. Even so, it has garnered a substantial following in the underground house show circuit on both sides of the bay, largely through its live performances and ten-minute-long demo tape Concept Model(s) I–V, which it released on cassette and digitally on Bandcamp through its own label, Discontinuous Innovation Inc. Concept Model(s) I–V is obnoxiously hyperactive, but it's also infectiously fun. The tape features rapid bursts of punchy, staccato instrumentation. Its repetitive song structures wind into tight spirals, becoming faster and more climactic through the reiteration of each phrase. With its wiry guitars, jolts of drumming, and off-center bass, Toyota largely eschews melody. Its vocals at times sound like maniacal chatter or mean-spirited kids jeering on the playground. And yet its bright, bouncy sonic palette and catchy riffs still tether its sound to pop. |
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