Jon Spencer rocks the Rickshaw, plus Bad Beats, Aging Youth Gang and Lou Reed

All pics by me

The last time I saw Jon Spencer, before last night, was around 2005 at Richards on Richards, when the Blues Explosion were playing that one album (Damage) where, for one reason or another, they left his name off the cover (which seems really, really weird, since he is so obviously the draw). Believe it or not, I left early -- very early, for two reasons: The person I was there with wasn't enjoying himself -- he found Spencer was trying too hard, didn't seem "authentic" or something: Spencer was leaping and flailing and pushing it, but where was he really in this whirlwind of activity? My friend didn't buy it, was getting judgy, might have used words like "fake" or "forced" or something (I forget!), and, y'know, I wasn't that invested: I'd bought Plastic Fang when it came out in Japan, where I was living all the time, drawn by the delightful cover, but it was really the only album of his I knew (I was more of a Pussy Galore guy). And, I mean, I could see what my friend meant; Spencer's flurry of activity was, like, excessive almost to the extent of being offputting, like. holy shit man, take your Ritalin. 

Or something. 

So I shrugged and headed for the exit with my friend. Besides, I wanted to chat up Beth Ditto (I mentioned there were two reasons), who was sitting over by the merch table; the Gossip -- the opening band! -- had completely floored me, and Ditto was ENORMOUSLY SEXUALLY APPEALING TO ME, and despite the fact that she was ALMOST CERTAINLY QUEER, I had stupid horny hopes that, like, maybe I would figure out a way to, y'know, hit on her or something? (My apartment was just down the street!). This was back when the Gossip were still a blues-punk band, hadn't started really adding other elements to their music (Standing in the Way of Control, where their sonic palette expanded and they began their process of transformation into what they do now, had yet to be released). But I couldn't figure out a way to actually flirt with Ditto -- you could tell she wasn't into chatting, just gave me kinda businesslike answers to my questions about wanting to see them again and so forth. I probably told her I wanted to write about them, but what I shoulda done was, I shoulda bought an album. I shoulda got it signed. Then at least I'd have had something to show besides my limp dick. 

Dumbass!

But I always felt kind of bad about missing out on Jon Spencer. What the hell had that guy been doing, anyhow, flailing and leaping and gesticulating so excessively? Then somehow I had never managed to see him again after that night (until, like, last night). I remember one time about five years ago that I was at the Rickshaw, watching Rotting Christ, who were doing these sorts of ritualized hair-swinging gestures in tandem while playing, which also wasn't doing it for me, when I realized that Spencer was playing at the Fox: "Shit, I shoulda gone to see Jon Spencer!"

Question: what does it mean that the best photos I got last night were from when Spencer (who had to try hard to get this to happen; it wasn't instantaneous) directed the Rickshaw crew to turn the lights down? Why did he do that, exactly? 

Well, as you see, last night I finally got to make good on things and do the man justice. And, y'know what, while he flailed and leaped a little less than he did at Richards, holy cow he put on a dynamo performance. I was ill-prepared: I knew three songs he did, one well ("1 Hour Later" off Dial M. for Motherfucker), one only a bit ("Bellbottoms," off Orange) and the night's cover tune, "The Power of Independent Trucking" by Big Black. I guess I vaguely recognized the song about "the sweat of the Blues Explosion" (I don't know Orange well, even though I realize it's considered one of his all-time classics), so make that three originals and one cover that I knew. The rest of it -- Pussy Galore songs (I think "Alright" might have been in there?), Blues Explosion songs, HITmakers songs--was high energy, skronky blues rock that shifted on a dime between fast parts and slow parts, that seemed to serve more as a trampoline for Spencer to bounce off, but was real hard to dance to consistently, because it was so varied and unpredictable and so high-energy. I got to thrash around a bit for "1 Hour Later." I'm glad Dial M was represented at all! 

Speaking of energy: holy Christ the man has it. It was kinda how one might imagine some alternate universe version of Nick Cave, where, instead of his actual touchpoints of the Bible, Americana, Tom Jones and heroin, Cave got really into bourbon, speed, and Exile on Main Street. Spencer gesticulated and danced and testified like he had a rattlesnake hidden in his pants, dripping with sweat, dropping to his knees, mic at times disappearing in his mouth like he was Lux Interior in URGH! (but it was a smaller mic and stayed on the stand; like, Lux practically deep-throats that thang, but that wasn't Spencer's style, even if his lips could be seen fully around the mic at times). He had a crack backup band with him, too, of Kendall Wind (bass) and Macky Spider Bowman (drums), who seemed like they were less than half his age, but who, with no setlist or notable guidance, effortlessly followed him from one song to the next, tunes often bleeding into each other, overlapping, and sometimes digressing into jammy rhythm explorations when, for instance, Spencer left the stage for a minute and they had to keep things going. Which they did effortlessly! I dunno who these two are but Spencer should keep'em! 

Nick Mitchum -- ARGH!!, or however you want to know him -- was there, and said it was maybe the best Jon Spencer concert of the maybe-ten that he's seen. I tried to take a selfie with him and he started rockin' his head back and forth to the music so this is what the result was:

Anyhow, so, like, sorry, Mr. Spencer, that I blew you off in 2005 to hang out with my fussy buddy and fail to mack on a lesbian. Took me 20 years to right things, and unless some massive familial obligation intervenes or something, I'm gonna be at the next show you do in town! Also sorry that I ended up kinda unintentionally criticizing you -- I could see you take it that way -- when I asked you after the show why "Ghetto Mom" got left off Plastic Fang (I have the Japanese edition of that album, which includes that song, and since it's my favourite song on it, I was really shocked to discover it wasn't included on the North American version). By the by, Spencer's answer was just that, "It's hard to sequence an album," but, y'know, his face kinda fell between thanking me for telling him how much I love that song and then asking him why he left it off the record. I shoulda thought of a different question!!! ("So Kurt of TAD was telling me about 'Dick Johnson'..."). 

Nice full(ish) house! 

Weirdly, Spencer seemed like a normal guy, soft-spoken, even, unassuming, pleasant, approachable, when he came out after the show to sign a few things and say hi to people. Fascinating man, hell of a performer, living legend really except he didn't seem like any rockstar I've ever met -- polite and sociable and just really kind of a normal dude!

That man is NOT a normal dude -- normal people would have SLOWED DOWN after having been in the business for so long (as Nick observed at one point). Were stimulants involved in his performance? I somehow suspect he does not need them.  

One funny thing from last night about openers the Bad Beats: I was totally shocked to chat with a few people who had never seen them before. I figure if you go to concerts in Vancouver, you've seen the Bad Beats, but Nick had not, nor had Sandy Beach (Spores, Aging Youth Gang) who was standing next to me up front, which led to some conversation (Barry of both of those bands was right behind him, too!). Sandy actually played trumpet in the Imperial, with Cam, the Bad Beats vocalist, but last night was his first Bad Beats show (he bought all three of their CDs; he was impressed, as was Nick -- just the sort of amped-up garage stuff he loves). At one point during their set, as I wrote on Facebook, I spied someone texting a friend and read over his shoulder: "I have no idea who these guys are but I'm pretty..." and I watched in great suspense to see how he would finish the sentence: He was pretty impressed? Pretty blown away? Or would it be negative? He seemed to be typing really slow, so I was getting quite tense, peering over his shoulder, wondering what this Bad Beats noob would make of them, but what the guy ended up writing was that he was "pretty fucked up," which he spelled wrong, leaving off the -ed, and illustrating his point perfectly.  

I hope he dug the Bad Beats. If you are reading this and you haven't seen them, why the hell not? 

Sandy Beach!

And about Aging Youth Gang -- they're apparently playing the Princeton on Saturday, for the Lou Reed tribute. I am still pretty pissed off about reports of bad behaviour from Princeton staff and management that surfaced online -- the band they stiffed has apparently forgiven them, but I haven't gotten over the part where it seemed like one server was just presuming to tip himself generously by rather aggressive means (he'd done that to me, taking my $20 and not bringing me change, which got a whole lot more offputting when I discovered that other people had the same experience!). Plus I did not enjoy that Lou show last year: I did not appreciate that the most packed I'd ever seen the Princeton was for a fuckin' cover show, and found I could not really enjoy the performances, because it seemed like EVERYONE had come out to socialize, not listen to the music -- all you could hear was people talking! But Sandy tells me that Aging Youth Gang will be doing "Run Run Run," "Vicious," and "Venus in Furs" -- and the prospect of seeing Aging Youth Gang cover "Venus in Furs" is pretty darn compelling. So, uh, maybe, since I'm not out of town! (But I'm gonna start that night elsewhere).  

One weird thing: Sandy was telling me that the new guy in Aging Youth Gang was "Rich" and I asked him if it was Rich from Daddy Issues and he said yes, so I thought he meant Richard Katynski, but then he said that I had seen Rich's first show with AYG last year, which I couldn't remember at all (remember seeing them, but Richard Katynski, not so much). Reviewing a clip I shot, I think I have figured out the problem, involving Orchard Pinkish's real name: there are actually TWO Richards in Daddy Issues! 

I suddenly want to get Orchard and Rich Katysnki to pose on Richards Street, in front of the condo where Richards on Richards used to be, and entitle the photo "Richards on Richards, 2025." But maybe it's already been done? 

Some other gigs this weekend: John Werner, one of the under-appreciated greats of Vancouver punk, will be doing his much rootsier Sudden Darts project at the Princeton tonight. Rong and the Fomites are at Red Gate Saturday. And for you bluespeople, Robert Connely Farr is at the Heatley on Sunday (previously written about here). I thought for a second I was going to miss all that -- pressing family stuff -- except the family has a cold, apparently, which Erika doesn't want to catch, so plans have changed!

Jon Spencer! Goddamn, what a show, and what a heroic performance. The clip I shot does NOT do it justice (if you know what these songs are, tell me.)