Songs that were as tight as Newt Gingritch’s sphincter. Two basses, good fashion sense from the guitarist, and a freight train of sound bowled us over.
I was chosen to go see Klover at Bill’s Bar. The real reason I’m here is because of an “erotic fashion show” by Sarah Good, a dressmaker/store owner in RI.
Riverdales keep it simple: No excessive harmonies, no tricky time changes, and few variations in tempo, key, and beat. Yet the songs are instantly catchy.
Too punk for their own good, the Red Aunts fuckin’ rocked! Nothing is sacred when they have mics at their mouths. They insulted everything and everyone.
Machinery Hall have played over 450 shows in just three years. They’re on tour in support of Title. This band does not know the meaning of the word “stop.”
A the staid Baystate Hotel, where most people are too cool to move, they were hot footin’ it around the carpeted floor. Yeah, they were cuttin’ up the rug.
Sugar Ray launched into their heavy chugging rap attack and wasted no time getting the crowd fistbanging, headslamming, bodysurfing, and that whoa-whoa thang.
Five kinda white/hispanic guys with mics and bats and lottsa tats. They’re trading their raps and stompin’ around, while the drummer’s chillin’ in the back.
They had a hard, driving bass, and showcased the conga playing of percussionist Jorg’e Acevedo, while it’s the lead guitar of Richard Lymon that really shines.