Courtesy of Vice Records
Geniuses of stupidity
Garage-punk rockers the Black Lips get goofy in Austin
By Erik Adams
Published: February 25th, 2008 | 10:30pm
February 23, 2008, in Austin — Remember that part in the first Men In Black movie where Will Smith’s Agent J says the general public is smart enough to deal with the fact that they share the Earth with thousands of extraterrestrials, to which Agent K (Tommy Lee Jones) replies, “A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals and you know it”? That’s a perfect assessment of the audience’s reaction to the Black Lips at Emo’s. Aluminum cans rained from the ceiling and far too many fans went for an ill-advised crowd surf inspired by the maniac playing of Atlanta’s favorite self-proclaimed “flower punks.”
If you don’t remember the aforementioned line, it’s probably because it’s been a while since you’ve seen Men In Black (if you’ve seen it at all). And that’s completely understandable, because the film is, to use a bit of Tommy Lee Jonesspeak, “dumb”: It’s loud, flashy, and offers little in terms of emotional depth or stellar performances. But it’s also a very fun movie, which explains why it made boffo box-office and spawned an entirely uncalled-for sequel. It’s fun to watch Will Smith wrestle with CGI bad guys while spouting a million variations of “Aw, hell no!”
And that also corresponds with last night’s Black Lips show.
As a band, the Black Lips are geniuses of stupidity. They traffic in a genre — psychedelic garage punk — that has never grasped at lofty pretension. Possessing snotty noses and smart mouths, the band epitomizes everything that Lenny Kaye meant when he described the artists — and Black Lips forbearers — collected on Nuggets: Original Artyfacts from the First Psychedelic Era, 1965-1968 (Rhino) as “punks.” They revel in bad humor, best seen in the entirely un-PC video for “Fad,” where the band members dress in cartoonish American Indian garb and attack a camp of equally cartoonish cowboys. At Emo’s, each band member came equipped with an ironically dim-witted accessory, some removable (guitarist Ian St. Pe’s grillz, guitarist-vocalist Cole Alexander’s red floppy cap with the flipped-up brim), and some a little more permanent (bassist-vocalist Jared Swilley’s 1800s pugilist mustache, drummer-vocalist Joe Bradley’s Beatle-meets-Prince Valiant mop top).
But I don’t think St. Pe, Alexander, Swilley, and Bradley have completely switched off their sincerity receptors; it’s hard to whip a crowd into a shit-losin’, beer-and-water-sprayin’ frenzy when you don’t really mean it. Even as they played a song that rails against a hurricane (the killer “O Katrina!”), coated in the lysergic colors of a liquid light show, their righteous anger showed that the Black Lips are more intelligent and earnest than they let on. Thankfully, they don’t let that get in the way of the fun.
Unintelligible vocals — mumbled, yowled, or distorted— were the order of the evening, but due to some unfortunate choices at the mixing board, so was unintelligible bass. This didn’t hurt the headliners as much as it did the sparse sound of White Denim, who turned in an otherwise–fan-winning performance. I hesitate to call the band’s blend of itchy blues guitar, lead drumming, and fuzzy bass spasmodic, but it is, given to frantic tempos and sudden pauses, and frontman James Petralli’s vocals skew toward “hyperactive.” Ditto to the band members’ stage presence, a frantic scene of gyrating, stomping, and flailing. I’m certainly not the first — and hopefully not the last — to say so, but keep your eyes and ears open for White Denim.
The evening’s other local opener, the Strange Boys, provided their share of freak-outs via guitarist-vocalist Ryan Sambol’s delightfully seizure-esque soloing, but for the most part represented a smoother side of the garage. Credit that to a mannered back beat from drummer Matt Hammer, whose last name couldn’t fit his playing style any less. Sambol’s was the mushiest mouth of the evening, a nasally whine singing blue-eyed R&B. It was annoying for a little bit, until I heard a voice in my head (something like a talking dog) say “Oh bite me, it’s fun!”
Issue #25
Comments
Please login to be able to comment on this article.
more