So I basically had my dream show double feature this weekend. Hunx and his Punx and Dum Dum Girls, back to back. I was pretty skeptical of going to an SF show after my last disappointing experience with A Place to Bury Strangers, where everyone in the crowd looked like a stranger who, in fact, needed to be buried. But I had gotten the Hunx and his Punx ticket months in advance, when I first discovered the band, so I decided to give SF another chance.
He was playing at the Independent, site of many a fantabulous show, so I was hopeful. My cheap $2 beer buzz from across the street abruptly turned into a nightmare when I walked in. The SF band Bridez was playing and god were they and are they awful! I’m not even going to try and put this any other way. I really wanted to like them because they had the whole “fuck it” attitude down real good and Liza Thorn, the singer and tambourine dabbler, had a sort of Courtney Love in her heyday thing going on and man do I love Love, but I just couldn’t. She wasn’t giving me anything to work with and every time she opened that gorgeous mouth of hers, suicide came out. I literally HAD to leave. The music wasn’t half bad, and I found myself actually rocking out to it during the instrumental parts. Not super complex or impressive but not bad at all. It was really the singer that did it for me. The stumbling glam rock junkie stage persona only works if you are good. When you’re not, you look like a drunk asshole at a party that everyone wants to make shut up and leave. Please someone put me out of my misery. The entire time they were playing, Seth Bogart (lead singer from Hunx and his Punx), who was, to my utter excitement, full throttle rocking Brando circa The Wild One, was leaning over the stage and staring Thorn down. I couldn’t tell whether he was into it or not. He seemed to be attempting to give them a chance but when he performed “You Don’t Like Rock and Roll” during his set, I could have sworn he substituted Bridez for Morrissey. Or maybe that was my subconscious desire for them to be called out on their suckage?
Conversely, Hunx and his Punx were incredible, in a word. I am a sucker for costumes when done right and the Punkettes definitely had the leather biker gang uniform down, but over the top doesn’t look so over the top when you’re the fucking coolest chicks on the planet. It was perfectly done. This band was definitely born to wear black leather and rock peoples’ worlds. I completely fell in love with every single girl and would totally have been perving on them, jaw to the floor, the whole time if it weren’t for Hunx prancing around the stage in his shiny black latex tights and motorcycle jacket, shoving his crotch into frightened little boys’ faces in the front row, and generally just being a kickass showman. At one point he swiped a swig of a beer sitting on the stage in front of him and then accidentally kicked it into the owner’s face that was standing mute in front of the stage. You’ll never guess what happened. The guy DID NOT move a muscle! He just stood there soaking with beer, either mesmerized by Hunx’s onstage cock power or was simply too scared to respond. I can see how the front row of a Hunx show would be a little intimidating if you have a penis. The audience participation level, AKA getting groped by Seth, is pretty high. When you’re seeing Hunx and his Punx, there are gay dudes, and then there’s everyone else. Honestly, I’ve never felt so square for not being a gay man in my whole life. The John Waters meets motorcycle gang image coupled with Seth’s Iggy Pop like stage presence was positively captivating. I’m pretty sure everyone in the audience, gay, straight, boy, or girl wanted him. About half their set was songs from their release, Gay Singles, but he didn’t play his commercial hit, “Gimme Gimme Back Your Love” for obvious reasons. I guess the whole Lens Crafters fame kinda spoiled it for everyone. The new stuff is equally as delicious as the stuff you can hear on Gay Singles, not an aberration from their signature 60s girl group/garage punk sound. I really can’t wait for a follow up album.
The following night I convinced a friend to accompany me to see the Dum Dum Girls at Bottom of the Hill. Bad idea. She just lost her wallet the week before which meant that she was sans a current license (she had her expired one) and the bouncer was not fucking around. Right before the Dum Dum Girls came on, he actually charged to the back of the club, a full fifty or so feet of jam packed hipsters and kicked her out for drinking a beer. Be warned. I was left to watch my girls solo, which is usually the case anyway. Dressed in their typical gothic/60s mod uniform, the girls came and just rocked it out. There was no introduction, no banter, no jokes, just straight up song after song after song, a ballsy move I might say. Honestly, they didn’t even need to build a rapport with the audience, the venue was packed and they sounded amazing. The sound guy actually managed to achieve that garagy lo-fi sound that Richard Gottehrer, who has also worked with groups such Blondie and the Go Go’s, and “Dee Dee,” front woman and group founder, so perfectly created. Bright red lips harmonizing perfectly, those leggy punk femme-bots delivered each song with not much more movement than consistent head bob. Usually, I scorn this type of automatron stage behavior but it worked really well for them. They delivered more edge and rock n’ roll energy than is available from the recordings and none of it had to do with flailing guitars or rolling around the stage. If they were robots sent from planet Hip to make us fall in love with that lo-fi, 60s girl group sound again, but with an injection of garage rock and still uniquely hip, I would not think twice. Mission accomplished.
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