Bao Le-Huu
Thee Monarchy V growing in right direction
Published February 13, 2004I don't know about you but last week was a taxing one for me.
It's tough work making the world go round, you know (wink). As is the
nature of creatures like us, I didn't need to wind down. Shit, I needed
to let loose.
And how many other ways are there to fully enjoy the sensation of all that pressure working its way out of your system than attending a quality live show? Not too many that are legal. So last Friday, I gathered a gang of cohorts and headed to the Copper Rocket Pub to catch The Delusionaires and Thee Monarchy V.
I've been watching Jacksonville's mod garage-rockers Thee Monarchy V develop for some months now. When I saw them perform for the first time last year, I loved the idea and the energy but the execution left something to be desired. But I'm pleased to report that this last show found them in very fit form.
Because Thee Monarchy V are now much more cohesive as a unit, the scrap and thrash of their sound bangs with more purpose. The crashing drums and flat electric buzz of the two-guitar attack rocked the room to a feverish pitch. And The Delusionaires' front-man Aaron Jarvis put on a spirited routine by singing a song with them, effectively making the performance space spill out onto the floor.
During the final song of their set, guitarist Charles climbed onto our table and ripped some fine licks up close and personal. Stepping over my shoulder, he joined vocalist/guitarist Adam and bassist Jon who were already standing and playing on the neighboring booth. And after drummer/vocalist Dennie hurdled his kit (hitting both cymbals by throwing down his sticks in mid-leap), this glorious spectacle culminated in all four bodies on the floor. Now that's fucking rock 'n' roll.
Next, the stage was infested with an upright bass, a pin-wheeling kick drum, a saxophone, dark shades, fez hats and a pencil moustache. Welcome to the cocktail-in-a-dirty-glass world of The Delusionaires.
Driven by Aaron Jarvis' outstanding guitar work, these gifted fellows infected the crowd with the danger of their sleazy, boozy, loungey surf-rock. Throughout most of the show, it appeared that the mic was set up primarily to howl into from time to time. Note to ska kids: This is the only way to make horns sound cool in rock 'n' roll. They wore their sunglasses at night but we're the ones who saw the light.
Now I had full intention of attending the Fear show at Back Booth last Saturday to give you, my darling readers, a report from the trenches, which is where I usually am. However, the damn show sold out by a long shot.
So fast-forward to the next night at Will's Pub. Hailing from Washington state, nice-guy band The Pale started the evening with their pleasant indie-rock. Enjoyable and natural melodies, but nothing remarkable.
Headliner Centro-matic, however, was an entirely different matter. The organic, heartfelt grit of their indie-rock carries the spirit of Texas, a vision that strips away the bombast and illuminates the mystery. Though not overtly twangy, Centro-matic's sound does have a country-rock appeal similar to Lucero (who will be performing at Will's Pub as well on Feb. 19) because it captures the feel of lonelier landscapes.
Opting for the more reflective side of their catalog on this night, their set gave us beauty, pain and honesty. In the way of performance, notable points were the phenomenal drumming of virtuoso Matt Pence, the accomplished piano-playing of Scott Danborn and the heartbreak of Will Johnson's voice (sounding like a world-weary, blue-collar version of The Flaming Lips' Wayne Coyne).
And how many other ways are there to fully enjoy the sensation of all that pressure working its way out of your system than attending a quality live show? Not too many that are legal. So last Friday, I gathered a gang of cohorts and headed to the Copper Rocket Pub to catch The Delusionaires and Thee Monarchy V.
I've been watching Jacksonville's mod garage-rockers Thee Monarchy V develop for some months now. When I saw them perform for the first time last year, I loved the idea and the energy but the execution left something to be desired. But I'm pleased to report that this last show found them in very fit form.
Because Thee Monarchy V are now much more cohesive as a unit, the scrap and thrash of their sound bangs with more purpose. The crashing drums and flat electric buzz of the two-guitar attack rocked the room to a feverish pitch. And The Delusionaires' front-man Aaron Jarvis put on a spirited routine by singing a song with them, effectively making the performance space spill out onto the floor.
During the final song of their set, guitarist Charles climbed onto our table and ripped some fine licks up close and personal. Stepping over my shoulder, he joined vocalist/guitarist Adam and bassist Jon who were already standing and playing on the neighboring booth. And after drummer/vocalist Dennie hurdled his kit (hitting both cymbals by throwing down his sticks in mid-leap), this glorious spectacle culminated in all four bodies on the floor. Now that's fucking rock 'n' roll.
Next, the stage was infested with an upright bass, a pin-wheeling kick drum, a saxophone, dark shades, fez hats and a pencil moustache. Welcome to the cocktail-in-a-dirty-glass world of The Delusionaires.
Driven by Aaron Jarvis' outstanding guitar work, these gifted fellows infected the crowd with the danger of their sleazy, boozy, loungey surf-rock. Throughout most of the show, it appeared that the mic was set up primarily to howl into from time to time. Note to ska kids: This is the only way to make horns sound cool in rock 'n' roll. They wore their sunglasses at night but we're the ones who saw the light.
Now I had full intention of attending the Fear show at Back Booth last Saturday to give you, my darling readers, a report from the trenches, which is where I usually am. However, the damn show sold out by a long shot.
So fast-forward to the next night at Will's Pub. Hailing from Washington state, nice-guy band The Pale started the evening with their pleasant indie-rock. Enjoyable and natural melodies, but nothing remarkable.
Headliner Centro-matic, however, was an entirely different matter. The organic, heartfelt grit of their indie-rock carries the spirit of Texas, a vision that strips away the bombast and illuminates the mystery. Though not overtly twangy, Centro-matic's sound does have a country-rock appeal similar to Lucero (who will be performing at Will's Pub as well on Feb. 19) because it captures the feel of lonelier landscapes.
Opting for the more reflective side of their catalog on this night, their set gave us beauty, pain and honesty. In the way of performance, notable points were the phenomenal drumming of virtuoso Matt Pence, the accomplished piano-playing of Scott Danborn and the heartbreak of Will Johnson's voice (sounding like a world-weary, blue-collar version of The Flaming Lips' Wayne Coyne).