Thursday night at The Knockout began with a long trip down Mission, thinking about food and looking for a sweet spot to find some grub. After some seafood curry and chicken in peanut sauce up the street, we headed over to the show in time to catch G Green setting up their stuff. The Knockout is a narrow club with a long bar running up one side of it, a couple of seats and benches and a cozy stage at the end of it all. Between sets a young woman kept the groove alive spinning sweet songs one after another and 2 large video screens silently alternated between bodacious 80’s hair bands and films like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligheri.
G Green, out of Sacramento, opened the show and tore into a quick set of songs driven by a limping drummer and giant bassist with a 6-foot smile- good kids playing good music. After some frantic adjustments to their gear, Blasted Canyons laboriously made their way through a sound plagued set never seeming quite satisfied with the levels. I was looking forward to hearing them and was not disappointed despite obvious frustration from the band. I got chills during their song “Ice Cream Man” as the trio rotated among their synthesizers, guitars and drums for each song and were awarded the blue ribbon for kick-ass mustache of Noise Pop.
The room rapidly filled up as the darling child of the bay area Ty Segall took the stage with his latest incarnation Fuzz. I will include myself in the crowd of gawkers that came to catch a glimpse of this one man record label. Ty Segall has produced more good music in the past year than most young musicians dream of cuddled in their moon and stars sheets brushing their tousled hair out of their eyes. My impression- he’s locked in, powering through the set hitting the drums hard, hard, hard. Singing, screaming, driving the pace and holding his accompanying musicians, both flawless and impressive, through a short set of low end thrumming re-verb book-ended in feedback; and new songs, one with lyrics one without- look for the 7″ coming soon- hope hope.
Fuzz unloaded their gear and the spectacle was over, the well dressed half of the crowd made their way to the exits and the punk rock kids shuffled closer to the stage awaiting a real rock and roll treat of the classic punk variety- OBNIII’s. They were the coolest kids at the club, their demeanor was charged, moving slowly and precisely gearing up and then POW. Orville Bateman Neeley III is the man, the lead guitar was the reincarnation of Buddy Holly in his true to life form, I’ve always held the belief that Buddy Holly was the first punk born 50 years too soon. The bassist stared down the crowd swaggering back and forth, the rhythm guitar slammed out power chords Johnny Ramone style and the drummer was solid, the little punk rock girls swooned to his beat.