Upon arriving at the designated coordinates, a small house with a large hayfield behind it, we were waved through the entrance by Dickie, the host, and a few of his friends. This whole shindig was a benefit to help raise money for Dickie's soon to be produced independent film. We immediately noticed a preponderance of pompadours, tattoos, and really hot girls bedecked in what can only be described fashionwise as a cross between Betty Page, naughty school girl, horror movie chic, and kick ass biker metal chick. It was kind of like the set of the classic 80s movie "The Outsiders" , if Tim Burton was the director and John Waters wrote the screenplay. In other words, it was outrageously friggin' cool. Well worn classic hot rods dotted the landscape, as did the sight of random wrestling matches springing up everywhere, and it wasn't just the guys who were wrestling! Also notable was the spirited game of Dodge TV (which is a lot like dodge ball, but...well, you get the idea) and the bitchin' rod farting flames from its twin tailpipes, setting the hay ablaze.
We were immediately approached by two fans of the band, who offered to help with our gear and had us sign their bandannas. Right about then, our friends the All-American Playboys lit into a blistering set of down and dirty rock and roll on the rickety makeshift stage set up for the occasion. The Pabst was flowing, the band was rocking, and the girls were dancing, wrestling, and frenching.
When they finished, we donned our gear and hit the stage. The entire party seemed to surge forward upon hearing the first chords of "Psychotherapy." Everyone was right in front of us, singing along with every word. For those of you keeping score, at this point we're a bunch of middle-aged guys in pageboy wigs pretending to be a 70's punk band in front of a very 50's looking crowd in 2004 and it's going over in a big way. Hell - some girl even jumped up on stage and planted a big kiss on me mid song. Gabba Gabba Hey indeed!
"Cretin Hop" seemed to go over well, particularly since a contingent from the Cretins, a local bike club, were in attendance. After finishing our set, the crowd wouldn't let us leave the stage without playing a bit more. We obliged with "Do Ya Wanna Dance" and (appropriately enough) "Outsider."
After our set, we mingled about and enjoyed the hospitality of the gathered masses. We also rocked out to the rockabilly strains of Moses and the Moongazers ("Rave On" - oh HELL yes!), and the more aggressively twangy Hard Money Saints. We missed the Lowe Lives, but I heard they kicked ass too.
To do a show with great bands in a fun situation is always enjoyable. Wrap that up with good people, cheap beer, and a delightfully freaky scene and you have the makings of a fabulous party that would make Martha Stewart crap her pants, but would provide all of your rowdy friends with memories that'll last a lifetime. That is, if the hangover didn't kill them.
Special thanks go to Dickie, Tiffany, and Lareina for having us, and their kind words of encouragement.
That's it for now. See you soon...