Jeff Dahl
Pancake 31 (Triple X)
by Craig Regala
If anyone’s a lifer in the “rocker” world, it’s Jeff Dahl. Tenured in the Stooges’ Raw Power school of hard rock, Dahl was one of the few that actually circled the wagons ’round that particular Stooges rec., whilst his bell was rung (hard) by the fallout from Chuck Berry that the New York Dolls grafted to power chords and a shrieking sneer thirty years ago. While there were fans of the stuff, Dahl wanted in and found like-minded citizens and ended up doing time in Vox Pop and the band it mutated into, The Angry Samoans, as well as the Motörheadish/speed metally Powertrip. I read somewhere he was also in the sludge/porn/gunk factory, the Mentors. So… from being involved in that honing and stomping of proto metal-nascent punk two decades ago, where’s he end up?
Well, being the rock’n’roll guy he is, the roots of what lit his big band became (or always were) his. What seemed like it pointed towards the future was a continuation of the basic bar band choogle. Without outstanding tunes, firm band interaction, and a sense of attack down in the rhythm section, “good ol’ rock’n’roll” pretty much clunks along, seeping into the groundswell that produced it, giving off a retro-vibe without an edge to jump from. The best cut, “X-Punkrocker,” can be found on A Fistful of Rock’n’Roll #3. Incidentally, the cover photo for Pancake 31 was taken by “one of the Trash Brats,” whose best song, “Must be the Cocaine,” can be found on the fifth volume of said series, holding down the number 13 slot quite capably. Buy all the volumes of the Fistful… series to get a generous-ass overview of the terrain Mr. Dahl purveys.
As it goes, Pancake 31 doesn’t have much goin’ on. Maybe a reanimation hookup with an ace bunch like the Pontiac Brothers or Lazy Cowgirls (also on Vol. 3 of Fistful…), would give the aforementioned some compositional help and creative stimulus and push him towards the fire the Hellacopters, Backyard Babies, and Glucifer bring from Scandinavia, Roadsaw’s full-force kick-ass, or the black-leathered rocker-as-super hero/mythic goober the Supersuckers have worked out the past decade. As is, this is a limp punk rock version of some 40-year-old guy down-at-the-plant yakin’ about his high school football days.
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