I’ll try not to get too preachy, but I really want you come to church with me on Sunday, okay?
Don’t worry, there won’t be anyone speaking in tongues or dancing in the aisles. No pastor with weird “Donald Trump” hair will beg you for money, between sips from his golden goblet. No one will be asking for a witness. In fact, I’m certain that no one will be there at all. Just you. If you’re up for joining the church … of AWESOME!
I had no idea that Supersuckers’ singer Eddie Spaghetti was such a revivalist. And had he not been such a great frontman, I doubt I’d have even listened to his appeals for a new world religion. Simply being ‘awesome’ and the inexhaustible pursuit of ‘it’ is enough to join. More on this to come.
I actually had no idea that I’d even watch, let alone like, the two opening bands, but I did. More than Social Distortion.
Blackpool Lights, a four-piece from Kansas City won me over early. I have to think being from Kansas City works in your favor, right? It’s like the Flaming Lips being from Norman, Oklahoma. Who is from there?? Aside from the standard Midwest city crop of fat women, Gates & Sons BBQ and Puddle of Mudd, not much comes to mind when calling up Kansas City exports.
The now defunct Get-Up Kids hailed from KC, with their demise in essence giving birth to numerous side projects including Reggie & the Full Effect and Blackpool Lights, the band fronted by Jim Suptic, co-songwriter and TGUK guitarist; a tidbit I wish I’d known before talking to Jim in my opera box after their set. When Suptic reminded me that The Get-Up Kids were from Kansas City, I waved my hand at him as if to say, “ahhhh, they broke up and don’t matter.” Whoops.
Suptic and his band delivered an easily digestible set of the most enjoyable, melodic grit I’ve heard in at least a year. Not knowing what it’s like to open for Social Distortion myself, the best I can guess is that making it through the set without being hit by a beer bottle is a win. The crowd, comprised mostly of older dudes in leather and Social Distortion t-shirts, seemed warm to their tight, John Mellancamp meets Rancid sound.
I’ll add that I was surprised to see so many greasers in Social D shirts. Isn’t that like cardinal concert rule #1? Don’t be “that guy.” There were many “that guys” in the House of Blues. Weird. And I’m pretty sure that any given one of those “that guys” was carrying either a switchblade knife or a switchblade comb. Take your pick.
During Blackpool Lights’ set, I harked back to a quote I’d read a few weeks ago from Panic! At the Disco guitarist Ryan Ross, in which he said something to the effect of “four guys in jeans and t-shirts, playing songs on stage, just doesn’t work anymore.” Perhaps, it was Ross’ involuntary way of saying that they need their funhouse mirrors, elephants, circus clowns and Cirque du Soleil chic magnitude to cover the fact that they’re just 19 years old, and maybe not mature enough to comfortably own the arenas they’re imprudently going to play, drawing material from only one album, this Fall. Regardless, Blackpool Lights begs to differ with Mr. Ross, whether they know it or not.
I couldn’t help but wonder what Johnny Cash would’ve thought of Panic! At the Disco. I know what he’d have thought of Blackpool Lights. The majority of their rough songs sounded, somehow, roughly familiar, like future rock radio classics that you know you’ve never heard before, but someday will. Maybe that’s why Suptic breathed a raw sense of life into an old one himself. Their “American Girl” overhaul was a perfect late-set link between new and old; both very real, stiff shots of American rock and roll.
Supersuckers lacked the congenial likability of Blackpool Lights, but somehow I don’t think they’d mind. They looked a little more poised to solely kick some ass, with very few questions asked, then head out on ‘the open road.’ After a six pack. Or two.
It didn’t take more than a few songs to know that this was undoubtedly one of the most underrated rock and roll bands touring today. And when I say ‘rock and roll,’ I mean it. I don’t mean All-American Rejects or My Chemical Romance. Nor do I mean any disrespect to them. I just mean real rock and roll. No tricks, no games; just ‘Route 66’ rock at its booze fueled finest.
Typically I don’t enjoy a self-serving monologue from a self-important singer during a rock show, which is what I thought Eddie Spaghetti was ramping up to when he started the verbal riffing over the band’s ‘bring it down a notch’ jam session. I was wrong. Eddie was right. It was here that he converted the crowd to the aforementioned Church of Awesome.
Then, to prove that the band was as awesome as their mantra, they passed around Eddie’s bass guitar, each taking turns on a solo; an ironic feat that followed another amusing, tongue-in-cheek, discourse by Mr. Spaghetti about the bass guitar beating out astronaut as the preferred career choice among high school students. Perhaps the most impressive of the bunch was drummer Scott Churilla, who banged his solo out, seated and with precision, beating his drumsticks across the strings while Eddie worked the frets. Impressi---- no …. wait. Awesome.
Supersuckers took a well-deserved bow after the set, to which the crowd responded with more love and thanks for doing something so simple, yet so different. The difference lies in its simplicity.
For the main event, Social Distortion, I must admit that I was, to some extent, disappointed. Now, I understand that a small portion of the crowd came only because “it’s Social D, dude,” and there is a certain relic element that comes with seeing Mike Ness live. It’s a problem when that feeling is reciprocated from the stage.
You may have gone and thought it ruled, which is cool. If you dug it, I’m happy. I’ve just developed this qualified eye for spotting boredom on stage. They appeared lucky just to remember that they were in Chicago. And guess what??? You’re never going to believe this … Chicago is one of Mike Ness’ favorite “towns!” Yeah, that’s right. He likes us!!!
Gee, I’m beginning to think that it must be true … every band says that!
I wholly realize they’ve been doing this a long time. They’ve played and destroyed Your City, USA more times than I’m sure Ness will ever remember, but it just felt uninspired this time down the road. Sure, “Mommy’s Little Monster” was cool, and the hits, they go without saying, but I could’ve been spared the rest.
I don’t have much more to say about Social D, other than there is no doubt in my mind that each musician in the two opening bands was a step ahead of their elders, whether anyone wants to admit that or not.
Now, if you’ll excuse me … I’m off to Bible study. I fully anticipate that it’ll be … awesome!
