Ragtime

at Local 186
by J. Fritz

“Shit, man, is that Howard Stearn on drums?” Guess not. Nevertheless, I was quite entertained. Ragtime sounds a lot like a band that might have surfaced in L.A. five to seven years ago, sans make-up and overdone production. We’re talking straight-ahead rock and roll, “hit material that kicks in the true spirit of…” if I were to quote their promo material. All right, I’ll buy that. I watched their show and found them rather refreshingly easy to grasp in a city like Boston which is generally swarming with self-serious alternadicks. (Yeah, I did intend that last comment to include most of the other bands reviewed in this magazine, in case you were wondering.) I’d go see Ragtime again, even if I had to pay to get in, and I’d urge you to do the same (unless you’re too busy dyeing your hair four shades of green and bemoaning the unfairness of life in this cockrock world). Ragtime is music meant for those who worked all week and feel like seeing a good band without all the whiny intellectualism.