Sloppy Seconds, Nobunny, and the Spits at Churchill's Pub, Miami
The Axe and the Oak at Sweat Records, Miami
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Better Than: Sitting at home on a Saturday night with a $10 dollar jug of wine and having my ass handed back to me on a casual game of Scrabble. Seriously.
Little Haiti's most beloved musical corner, the Churchill's/Sweat axis, offered a night of amazing musical experiences this Saturday. My starting point was Churchill's, and very unseasonably early for the venue. The sort-of-English-pub's new booking lady, Nayra Serrano, had forewarned everyone repeatedly that the show would get going at 8:30 p.m., an hour unheard of in Churchill's time. Sure enough, by 8 p.m., the frenzy was underway in the crowd to get the shit started.
First on the scene was newish Miami act The Can't Stand Ya's, an act basically made up of every member of Stay Hitt , plus Joe Basick on guitar and vocals. It was nice to see their inspired take on punk rock and roll enjoyed with gusto by the small crowd that got there on time. Actually, the frontman threw two Basicks songs into the set, which is okay; I dig the Basicks. The band also did an awesome cover of the Ramones' "Bonzo Goes to Bitburg." Expect to see more of them in the near future.
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Back at Churchill's my boy Homer's new outfit, Enough!, did an inspired, albeit short set of good punk with indie undertones. Soon after, recent Livid Records signees Furious Dudes did a sweaty set of their raging hardcore punk rock a la Bad Brains/Necros and it was as satisfying as it usually is. They should have a new record coming out soon and you should pick that up if you prize life and applied sciences. Mad Martigan was a late addition to the bill and they never disappoint either.
At this point, let's review the who's who of the local punk rock scene in the crowd that night. Marcio "Grim" Gemelli, drummer for The Crumbs was in attendance, Bundy from Mekahgo N.T. was there, Juan Manuel Rotulo and Jose Flores from The Getback (who'll be reuniting later this month), Fabio Destroyio, my boy Gordy, my ex-wife's manicurist, Nancy "Say Hey" May, local author J. David Gonzalez (who I shanghaied into getting me a PBR), poet Peter Borrebach, MPC founder and University of Wynwood rector and New Times alum P. Scott Cunningham, Livid Records head honcho Chuck Livid, Chris Critic from Critical Recordings, my boy and electric wiz Gavin who promised me a good rate on an outlet that I fucked, Japes, Mavis, Jacob, and many more heads from South Florida's punk rock past. DJ Skidmark kept it lively between acts with some choice punk rock cuts.
Soon Nobunny took the stage, backed by the Spits in bunny ears.While I'm a big fan of his, Hasil Adkins/ lo-fi take on one-man-band, D.I.Y. punk rock, it was unclear how it would gel on stage. Wow. Nobunny, the man, can wear whatever fucking costume he wants. The set was a raucous tromp through R&B via punk rock, delivered by a guy in underwear, fishnets, a leather jacket, and a bunny mask. Though the set was short, he did pepper his grab-bag of tracks with guaranteed hits "Boneyard" and "I Am Your Girlfriend."
The Spits took a little breather before returning to the the stage in cute, matching, black over-sized burkinis and delivering a fucking zinger from left field. Listening to this band on the web or off an album does titno justice. Synchronized, harmonic, blistering ... I'm short for words as to what the badassery of their set was truly like. The band boasted a dude in a cop outfit controlling the electronics onstage, like a bizzaro version of Mission of Burma's Martin Swope/Bob Weston? It was a drunken epiphany to witness "I H8 P*ssies" live.
To close the evening out, Sloppy Seconds came out strong with the fury only older, fatter punk rockers can bring to the fray. Take 'em or leave 'em, junk rock waits for no man or diet plan. They tore up through a set of their 20-plus years of knowledge, standouts being "Why Don't Lesbians Love Me" and "You Can't Kill Joey Ramone."
Steve Sloppy held the skins down but is looking a little heftier to me. Bo'Ba Jam looked like he lost a little weight. Meanwhile B.A. is the perfect match for Poison Idea's Jerry A. as far as gorgeous corpulence goes. That man makes a sleeveless green T-shirt look good and bitches, if you haven't fucked a fat guy, you haven't fucked, period. Ace Hardware plays a mean punk rock guitar and still wears that goddamned leather baseball cap.
To another 20 years of balding, chubby punk rock!
Personal Bias: I fully understand time restraints. I might not abide by them (my boss in the day job will tell ya), but I like the new Churchill's attitude. Maybe bands going on, on time is the new black, or pink, or whatever you got.
Random Detail: Nothing about the evening was random. It was a calculated assault on my receptive senses.
By the Way: By the fucking way? Nah! Keep shit like this coming!!! Woo-hoo!