la dimension de trastos: CLOCKED OUT

Sunday, January 16, 2011

CLOCKED OUT

Last night, when I'd normally be plugging away at some sort of post, I got kind of sidetracked. It started inauspiciously enough, just poking around looking for an idea of something to post. I happened upon a post about Rocket From the Crypt, which led to breaking out some of their records, and then watching a little of the DVD of their final show. Before I knew it it was 10:00 and time for the Swami, a radio show on San Diego's FM94.9, hosted by RFTC singer/guitarist John "Speedo" Reis, aka the Swami. It's a weekly mish-mash of way out and wild sounds from all eras & all genres, and it's the best three hours of radio you'll listen to all week. (A sample playlist can be found here). By 1:00, when the show, and my fucking around, ended, I decided that I'd leave a Rocket post for another day. I woke up this morning, and dang me if it wasn't another day.

I'd put off doing a post about Rocket From the Crypt for a while. I'm not nuts about doing posts about bands that I know members of, because it opens the subjective can of worms. (So, full disclosure: I count a couple of the members of Rocket as friends, the kind that you can shoot the shit about music with, and I mean music in it's broadest sense.) Another reason is that it would be hard to fit in everything in one post. Because, I'm of the opinion that Rocket From the Crypt is the best rock n' roll band to come out of San Diego, (are you ready for this?) ever.

Though I'll cop to being a little subjective, when the objectivity hat goes on, they still come out winners. There really aren't a whole lot of bands that you can compare them to. They had the energy of a punk band, but weren't. They had horns, in a band that rocked hard (none of the Jersey shuffle stuff). The song writing was good, and there were enough in-jokes to keep even the most obsessive fiend busy. And they had Reis' voice, a raspy sneer, the type that made the 60's garage bands sound so anti-pop (as Wesley Willis once documented in song "Speedo can really sing!", which they copped on "Born In '69"). They lasted all of seven or so years, but in that time put out a fuck load of records, so many that their official web site threw it's hands up at having a complete discography.

That's another thing. The sound and efforts of their recordings vary wildly. There were some records, particularly the 45s put out by Sympathy For The Record Industry. that went from studio to vinyl in a matter of weeks. Timetables prevented over thinking things, and the immediacy of those records were reflected in raw productions. Then there's the "Scream, Dracula, Scream" LP, their first for a major label, Interscope. Interscope threw the bank at them, funding long top notch recording sessions (and a free tour, in which every gig was paid for by the label). The LP was produced by Reis (with mixing assistance from a few others) and he went all out; there were strings, brass (obviously), accordion, percussion gizmos, and big, loud, arrangements. The sound was thick and layered. Let me put it this way: Before it was released, Reis invited me and, then road manager, Max Bristol (of Flapping Jet Records and the Widows) over for a impromptu listening party. His audio set up was pretty damn dynamic, and as we had Reis annotating different parts as we were listening, it would be reasonable to think that, by the end of the night, we'd have heard everything, right? That wasn't the case, because after it came out and I had a copy, I was still picking out things I hadn't heard before. I'd go into more detail, but if you really listen to music, you'll know what I mean. Pick it apart, it's fun.

Live, oh boy, it was a show, let me tell you. They were were tight, a well oiled machine, and the songs went from one to the next at breakneck speed. When there was between song banter, it was usually something along the lines of "Anybody here from Florida? (Cheers) I hate Florida." Reis could be deceptively corny, for example saying "here's my solo," playing an errant solo, and finishing it with "did you like that?" And, there was action up there as well. The unofficial effort indicator in these parts is horn player sweat. That is to say, if the horn players are sweaty, then you know the whole band is working it. The horn players sweated.

Live, three songs in less than five minutes.

Even with all of the above blabbing, it's really just scratching the surface of the band. A lot could be added. There's the varying matching outfits that they wore at almost every live gig. The fact that they almost never gave a straight answer in an interview. The nicknames, which were used on just about every piece of written material about the band. The touring antics (of which I've heard a few). Their Halloween gigs, which were always big events (their last gig was on Halloween, recorded and filmed for the "RIP" two-fer swan song package). And there's Reis' other projects; he was in Rocket, Drive Like Jehu and Hot Snakes simultaneously, and was in earlier and later bands Pitchfork, the Sultans, and his current band, the Night Marchers; not to mention his record label and way-rad radio show.

~ NOTE: ALL MEDIA IS HOSTED BY THE BLOGS & SITES NAMED BELOW ~

1 comment:

Bobby Lane said...: Not bad for a band that started up with the intention of only playing parties.Saw lots of their early shows,on the steps of museum of man on halloween,their first show I believe,and at the Richmond street house.I wish I had seen them more in later years.i could be wrong about the "parties only" stuff.The Swami knows...; February 2, 2011 at 5:19 PM