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Y'know, some clubs just can't CHARGE $15, no matter WHO is on stage. I objected to the Star Bar's cover for Fuzzfest, only to have them say "Hey, this ain't our show!" But the organizers hadn't realized the whole mod revival just hadn't caught on like the swing/rockabilly thing. They might have packed the joint at $8, might have at least gotten some fans at $10, but instead they asked too much and received too little - I walked into a club half empty and it never got crowded on either day I was there. Ah well, on with the noise:
I arrived late due to social obligations, but just in time to catch the Insomniacs' stripped-down 60's garage sound with a beat you could go go to. If this type of music doesn't make you want to pin down the members of Oasis one by one and beat the shit out of them, nothing will - you are lost and there is no hope for mankind.
The Fleshtones followed - I'd heard the name and now I know why. "They're almost as good as the Hate Bombs!" yelled degenerate GN. (If you don't know who the Hate Bombs are, you haven't been paying attention to Degenerate Press broadcasts.) The Fleshtones quickly got the place shakin' and after a couple of encores a lot of people couldnít take the pace and go go home.

So there's the Fleshtones, then there's everyone else. Or The Others, in this case, a fuzz band from Italy who don't have the energy or command of the English language to keep everyone's attention. Not to mention they followed the pinacle of the garage movement, if there can be such a thing. To make matters worse, they had some heavy unintentional feedback going through about half their set. Painful in many ways.
Saturday we headed to the wedding of the century ‚ degenerate GN staged a gathering of local musicians, family members, and general slackers for his end to bachelor life as he knew it. The Penetrators played as the crowd surfed into Urban Nirvana and took their places in the sweltering heat. Everyone was waving little fans and it was a beautiful New Southern moment when Mike G. of Kingsized did his Elvis cover after the vows were exchanged. The Penetrators played everyone to the door and the reception was taken outside for the food and beverages. Outside it's a who's who in local music with gossip flying (Kingsized is done recording their new CD, the Ramblers have added a new person, is a cool new site with lots of local bands on it, should be up and running soon, etc. etc. etc.) The Continentals swung into action and after things cooled down a bit and everyone got some beer in 'em they started swaying to the first revivalists of swing and rockabilly in Atlanta. Amy's amazing voice was joined by Mike for a few numbers and lots of folks were swingin' about the joint.
So as not to waste a night in a suave outfit, it was back to the Star Bar for the Degenerate staff, just missing the Hate Bombs (they're back the 20th of this month!) But just in time to catch the Boss Martians playing hard and fast, surf, mod, and ol' time R & R. Out of Washington state, they are Boss, doing everything from Bird is a Word to Misirlou ("We just do that... sort of... as a joke." the guitarist says humbly after smokin' through the Dick Dale classic.)

The Loons add more of a Morrison flavor to things, if only the lead singer had done a bit more acid to push him through the Door. He flew around wielding a tamborine like a weapon, yelling odd songs with lots of engergy.

Then original members of GONN stormed the stage for the first gig in the U.S. outside of their home stomping grounds in 30 years - and they were happy as coked-up 14-year-olds to be there. Perfect garage-a-go-go. Maybe too perfect - their covers of Doors tunes were utterly unimprovised, cloned strait off the records. But they did their own numbers and others with lots of gusto and eventually the doorman couldn't take any more and turned on the lights. That didn't turn off GONN, however, and they rocked for another hour. 4 AM came around before they'd call it quits but the crowd wasn't ready to go and the doorman had to hurl obsceneties at the fans before they'd slink out the door reluctantly.

Sunday we missed our usual broadcast - no, not to honor Princess Die, no, not to show solidarity with opressed laborers in our capitalist society, but to be degenerates. Two of the girls from the Canadian all-girl-garage act The Girl Bombs needed a tour of our fine city and we happily obliged - "There's where they blew up the Omni. Here's where they blew up the Stadium. Here's where they blew up Centinnial Park..." The usual degenerate tour. Eventually they had to get back to Fuzz Fest but we were beat and had more degenerate plans and were forced to miss ? and the Mysterians, as well as the Kingsized/7' Politic show at the Masquerade. So if anyone made it to Fuzz Fest Sunday or the Swing Night at the Masq, give us a report!
Oh yeah, the two first-run movies we've seen in the last couple of weeks have reminded us why we stopped paying to see movies on the first run - do NOT waste your money on Air Force One or Event Horizon. Both are worth $2, but worth no more!

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