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Just before The Strange Boys took stage, or should I say took room, I got a whopping taste of Texan hospitality. Some dude, who couldn't have been of legal drinking age, goes into the back room, opens the fridge, and comes back into the adjacent room to hand out free beer to the rest of the kids. Mmm, my first Lone Star. It's no Shiner Bock and it clearly tastes like Budweiser, but I try my hardest not to let my friends know that. Never rip on state-wide beers. They carry some sort of iconic reign over Texas.
There's not a person in attendance over the age of twenty five and the small room is about as half-packed as it's going to get. Lead singer Ryan Sambo begins playfully singing, occasionally shouting, nonsensical jabber into the microphone. Words can't describe how ecstatic I am to be in the middle of nowhere watching my favorite unsigned band of the year. Nothing excites me more than a venue that is so hard to locate (the entrance is literally in a dark alley way behind a revivalist center) that it virtually operates sub rosa.
The Strange Boys - "Drugs Igby Drugs"
The Strange Boys rocked us through a short set comprised of 60s resurgence tunes from their soon to be released Nothing 7". For some reason, Sambo's voice reminds me of a post-punk, blasé take on early Bob Dylan. Combine that with the flagrant throwbacks to ? & The Mysterians and you've got quite an interesting combination of elements. On "Art For Art's Sake", climbing bass lines, blase, retro vocals, and mid-song solos provide for a head bopping, very bandstand-esque escapade. Other songs like "We Both Know" and "Drugs Iggy Drugs" are based upon the incorporation of a surf rock, keys-infused backing. The amalgam of effervescent garage rock elements is overwhelming and watching it play out live is quite an indelible experience.
Yet in the middle of the show I hear Sambo trailing off, "This just ain't right. This just ain't right." As if he were summoning the audience's energy, Ryan was clearly not feeling it. Maybe it was the fact that there were a mere twenty some odd people or maybe he just wasn't feeling the usual synergy betwixt the band members. Regardless, he was determined to rectify the situation by means of cover songs. The Strange Boys concluded their rambunctious set with the The Isley Brothers' "Shout". The rousing rendition prompted the crowd to clap, sing along, and even lower themselves to the ground with Sambo in correspondence to the soft, hushed parts.
As I approached front man Ryan Sambo after their staggering performance, he seemed a little uneasy. I mean, I had been snapping gratuitous shots of them for the last half an hour. I introduced myself and let him know that I had, in part, come out to Texas to see this show after seeing them at the FYF. He maintained a modest front, "Aww, man! You should've come to see another show. We're playing in Austin soon." I could smell his disappointment, but I had just experienced pure bliss. I assured him that it was well worthwhile, considering how infrequently they grace Los Angeles. It was nothing like seeing them in front of an overly appreciative LA crowd, but I got more than I bargained for. It's not everyday that you get to sit through a show this unique put on by a handful of fresh-faced Austin natives.
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I'm never, ever buying a horizontal striped shirt.
You said no one is reviving 60s garage rock? I thought it had been revived. Over and over again. Guided by Voices did it in 1994. And then it happened about 5 years later with The White Stripes and all the subsequent shitty copycat bands.
actually, i saw them at fuck yeah, they were pretty amazing.
whoever this person above should see the band first before judging this 'copycat' band.
after fuck yeah, i went to see them play at someones afterparty in this weird garage setup.
http://flickr.com/photos/akmal-naim/sets/72157601711689969/