The Spin
Buzzfest
We showed up Friday night at Mercy just in time to catch the end of new teen buzz-band The Turf. They were a little dancier than we expected, but impressive nonetheless, though we’ll reserve judgment till we’ve heard more than a song-and-a-half. As the youngsters scampered offstage, we saw a crew of nubile young things hitting the stairs and heading into the night—presumably to drink 40s under a bridge or in someone’s basement. That’s what high school kids do, right? With some of The Turf’s young fanbase hitting the road, the place cleared out a bit, leaving a contingent of local show regulars. At one point, we looked around and felt like over half the people out on the balcony had guest-listed it up. The fact that The Sleep Study boasted local favorites Rollum Haas and Bingham Barnes in a powerhouse rhythm section didn’t hurt either. The two of them were a joy to watch—it made us wonder what the redheaded stepchild of Glossary and The Features might look like. Last up were local staples How I Became the Bomb, still relatively fresh off a stint in Europe. Singer Jon Burr promised us that he would “rock the house.” And he did, even if some the people in the crowd, many of them quite possibly into double digits in the “Bomb shows” category, were a tad more interested in nurturing their buzz.
Know your friends
Self-professed anarcho-punks Against Me!’s performance last Tuesday at Rcktwn was a mess of contradictions. First, the all-ages venue’s tightly controlled environment is more of a police state than an anarchist’s ideal. Still, along with the swarms of kids and a few parents, we emptied our pockets, got patted down and agreed not to re-enter the building in order to hear a good old-fashioned pissed-off populist punk-rock band. Given the glossier finish of New Wave, the band’s latest full-length and their first for Sire Records, the songs make much more sense in a live setting alongside the band’s back catalog. Frontman Tom Gabel still positions himself as punk rock’s Bruce Springsteen or John Fogerty, barking against the government, the war and then a lot more about the government. Even with all the vitriol, the band unquestionably enjoy themselves. Pogo-ing abounded both onstage and in the crowd. Between the night’s opening bands, the audience was informed by a club staffer that no crowd surfing or stage-diving would be tolerated—a threat completely ignored by the mohawks, cut-off jean jackets and studded belts that made up most of the throng closest to the stage. By song three, the staff had been mobilized, resulting in many concert-goers spending the rest of the show standing in time-out in a corner of the room. During the band’s last song before the ceremonial encore wait, a homemade shirt was thrown onto the stage. Gabel put it on before returning to the stage and asked from where the shirt originated. After identifying the responsible party, Gabel proceeded to lay into the kid, asking how many hit records the kid has made, or if he or she had ever met Butch. When the answer was no, the kid was called an asshole, and the audience rallied behind Gabel. Naturally, we spent the rest of the encore trying to read what the hell was written on the T-shirt. It said “Butch Vig is not your friend,” referring to New Wave’s producer and the producer for such bands as Nirvana, Sonic Youth and Garbage. Doesn’t really seem a bad person to have in your corner as far as we’re concerned.Love us, hate us—just keep the thread going
Nashville Cream, the Scene’s snarky, insular music blog, celebrates one year of pissing you off this Saturday at Mercy Lounge. With DJ sets, cheap-ass booze and a live performance by our favorite trash-rockers JEFF, there’s no reason you shouldn’t try to get as close as possible to the magic we’re making every day.
Deets: Saturday, Aug. 25, 9 p.m. $5. Free drinks and Grand Palace-designed limited-edition posters for the first 100 peeps. $1 Yazoo “Summer Cream.” $1 “Cream Dream” Shots. Dancing. Tomfoolery. Us.
Curious what all this Cream business is about? Join the fray at nashvillecream.com. For regulars, feel free to send us your audition video for the VIP room. And remember, keep it 18 and up—we’re pretty classy.
