I ain’t never scared. But as I surveyed the audience of about 250 from my perch on the upper deck of Knuckleheads’ outdoor stage on Thursday, May 30, I realized I may have been the most feeble person at the venue. Every member of Nashville Pussy, Guitar Wolf and the Turbo A.C.’s is capable of knocking me out in seconds flat. The bikers, the dude in jorts with a glorious mullet and even the 90-pound Guitar Wolf superfan could also have easily made quick work of me.
I didn’t pay the $20 cover charge to get beat up, so I minded my p’s-and-q’s with another sober pal. The conventional punk band the Turbo A.C.’s were eager to please, but Guitar Wolf didn’t bother with niceties. The storied Japanese trio played 45 minutes of confrontational noise. The band took the stage to “Cretin Hop,” but Guitar Wolf sounded less like the Ramones than the sort of cacophony made by Keith Moon and Pete Townshend when they trashed the Who’s stage sets. While Seiji has led his band for more than 30 years, he often played as if he never bothered to learn how to play guitar. Needless to say, I loved every moment of Guitar Wolf’s debilitating anarchy.
My pal repeatedly insisted Nashville Pussy is “so badass.” Rather than risk him tossing me over the railing, I heartily agreed with his enthusiastic assessment of the headliner. The longstanding quartet exemplifies everything rock and roll should be: sexy, dangerous, defiant and subversive. Yet Nashville Pussy’s stubborn insistence on musical competency and actual songcraft meant that the night belonged to Guitar Wolf.
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I write weekly concert previews for The Kansas City Star.
(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)
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