Hi Fi and the Roadburners

Fear City (Victory)
by Lex Marburger

Let’s hear it for greaser rock! Hi Fi and the Roadburners are Stray Cats gone punk. They’re the mechanics that always represented the bad influence, the ones mother warned you about: Hair slicked back, Lucky Strikes rolled up into white T-shirt sleeves like on Happy Days. Go to the Roadhouse Bar and Grill, but stay in back; you’re not one of their kind. Broken beer bottles and broken noses predominate the place, nicotine-stained fingers clutching a longneck like a nun holding a crucifix, impatiently waiting for the band.

The sax blares out, the dirty howl of a man who has seen too much of asphalt and monkey wrenches, sick of all these pansy squares who try to rock, but never had the experience needed. A hard, upbeat shuffle takes control of the sound, and turns it into a driving riff backed by guitar and bass. The blues holler with brick and glass throats and the thunder of a vintage Harley Davidson. The night ends with the inevitable fist fight and broken chairs, police showing up to bash a few more heads, and you promising that you’ll be back tomorrow night.