In which I Attend the Forward Music Fest, Day 2, Part 2
fig.1: Droids Attack, attacking
Here’s one thing i didn’t do all weekend during the Forward Fest that i feel should be pointed out—i didn’t get drunk once. There’s a reason for this; it’s because despite running into people i knew all weekend, i was essentially going it alone. And look; stories of romantic rock ‘n’ roll excess play really well when the intrepid music journalist has a traveling partner or two, but alone there’s nothing Hunter S. Thompson about being drunk on Leine’s at three in the afternoon. When you’re 34, live in Milwaukee, and a humble blogger for a local publication, that’s just sad. So yeah, not so much with the drunken antics this weekend.
I point this out because when i walked from the Frequency to Wisconsin’s best live music venue, by far (sorry Cactus Club), the High Noon Saloon, i managed to meet up with some pals who took care of all the alcoholic revelry for me in spades. Not two minutes into my High Noon visit (whereupon walking into the venue my first thought was “oh sweet! I didn’t completely miss Helliphant!”), i heard a “HEY DJ!” and ran into my yes-it’s-only-9-PM-but-god-dammit-i’m-loaded Chicago buddy Tanya and her pals Ashleigh and Kara, who weren’t far behind.
After a completely ripping set from my boys in the Madison stoner-riff combo Droids Attack, i was tickled to hear a bunch of people around me exclaiming sentiments similar to “who were those guys? Droids Attack? They were awesome! Why haven’t i heard of them before?” Argh. BECAUSE YOU HAVEN’T BEEN PAYING ATTENTION. Droids have been around for almost as long as my band (8 1/2 years, guh), so there is no excuse for anyone who attends shows at the High Noon on a regular basis to have not heard of them before Sept. 20, 2008. End of story. Tanya gets a pass because she’s from Chicago.
Speaking of Tanya, it was around this time that her friends were cutting her off because she apparently had enough to drink for the night (it was about 10 at this point). After an extended debate among the three of them regarding this point, i decided my only course of action was to naturally buy her a vodka cranberry, because it was HILARIOUS. Her response, after i said, “so i bought you this because i thought it’d be hilarious”? “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that.” Muhaha.
After a round of denials to her friends (“someone else bought it.” “She found it.” and my favorite, in response to Kara’s “that’s just cranberry juice, right?” “Sure!”), Madison institution Bongzilla took the stage, promptly stunning me with the information that Nate, the bass player from Droids Attack, also plays bass for Bongzilla. I had NO idea this was the case. Knowing that i have a friend who plays in a band with a Kuma’s Corner burger named after them is just weird (Kuma’s: a Chicago gourmet burger joint that names its sandwiches after metal bands. I hear the Lair of the Minotaur is the best one; it has bourbon-soaked pears!). Anyway, Bongzilla played, and they were exactly what i expected Bongzilla to be like—loud, slow, and stoned (for fuck’s sake, two seconds before they started the singer passed a pipe to a girl in the front row right next to me. That’s so perfect). Green brand amps, an American flag hung behind the drummer that replaced the stars with pot leaves…really, i would have been disappointed had they not been so over the top. After all, their name is Bongzilla. They bring to the table certain expectations that must be met.
The flag stayed up on the wall for the feature acts of the evening, starting with Shannon Selberg’s Heroin Sheiks. Full potentially-cred-damaging disclosure: I did not know going into the night that Shannon Selberg was in the Cows, because i totally missed the boat on the Cows and never really listened to them. I know, i know; my credibility as a music journalist is shit now. Why? Not because i am unfamiliar with the Cows, but because i admitted it. You think all those scribes you read that act all informed about shit know what they’re talking about 100% of the time? BWAHAHAHAHA!
Anyway, i’m getting off track. What needs to be pointed out was that by this time, Tanya found herself being held back by her friends whenever she started yelling something like “I WANNA SUCK YOUR DICK SHANNON!” or whatever. This only added to what was a pummeling, ferocious set of driving, hammering noise rock that immediately converted me to full-fledged Sheiks fandom. Their bassist thrashed and perspired all over the place; guitarist Paul Sanders (who, Kara and Ashleigh kept explaining to me, was “charming,” so charming that Kara had to have it written on her cleavage. Seriously. I was at a show with female NOISE ROCK GROUPIES. My band is obviously doing something wrong, although i don’t think any of us can help not being Shannon Selberg or Paul Sanders) rocked out in short pants, and Shannon pranced about the stage like a crazed ringmaster, starting off by eating the paper mask he wore onto the stage and not letting up from there. Completely kick-ass.
Oh, and remember what i said in my last entry about keyboard girls?
fig.2: Call me, Sarah; call me.
Yeah.
fig.3: Yeah yeah, Shannon’s hot, whatever. LOOK HOW SWEATY THE BASS PLAYER IS!
As the mighty goddamn fucking holy shit KILLDOZER were setting up, Tanya yelled, “I used to crank call your law firm and leave voice mails but your secretary would delete them!” His response? “I’m gonna have to talk to her. She’s been making a lot of mistakes! She brings me my coffee and there’s hand lotion on the cup!” Easily the best Michael Gerald quote of the night. They then proceeded to deliver a set not quite as ruckus as their ferocious performance at the Touch & Go Records 25th anniversary show in 2006, but it was pummeling nonetheless. “Richard!” “New Pants and Shirt!” “I Am I Said!” “La Grange!” For fuck’s sake!
fig.4: Your favorite tax attorney hard at work practicing his craft
fig.5: The brothers Hobson, who can now be told apart by their hair, as well as, well, their instruments
After the set proper, the band retook the stage for encore number 1 with a buddy in tow: Paul Zagoras, who joined the band after the original lineup split. The four-person ‘Dozer lineup then plowed through their cover of “Cinnamon Girl,” “Knuckles the Dog Who Helps People”(!!!), and “Sweet Home Alabama,” which was a nice counterpoint to the Neil Young cover, i thought (in case you didn’t know, Killdozer are known for ridiculous covers, including “Unbelievable” by EMF and–for fuck’s sake–“Nasty Boys” by Janet Jackson). They then closed things out with a song i didn’t recognize (i know), and another one i didn;t recognize in the second encore (I KNOW).
Having not eaten anything since Norah’s pizza at noon, i made the executive decision to drive back home that night, hitting the Taco Bell on the way. Unfortunately, the Taco Bell drive-through was about as backed up as my bathroom would have been later in the night had i stopped, so no crunchwrap supreme for me. Alas. I went to bed back in Milwaukee exhausted and ready to hit the road the following weekend, which, oh shit, is TOMORROW. After this recap i’m sure Anya will be waiting for me at Quencher’s tomorrow with a knife. Ah well, it’s been nice blogging for you.
