Tuesday, October 22, 1996
By Vanessa VanderZanden
Daily Bruin Contributor
A slender figure with black-rimmed glasses, spiky hair and a
blue lounge jacket takes the mike as anxious band members wait
patiently at their stations. The mixed crowd of tanked frat boys
and long-haired Whiskey regulars stare intently at the stage as he
raises his hands and in a deep, commanding voice calls out, "We’re
gonna have ourselves a love ruckus!"
Instantly, the lead singer emerges from the adjoining staircase
with a go-go dancer on each arm. From beneath their blue and pink
wigs they snap gum and remove the singer’s fur coat, slipping off
the to the far corner of the arena. Stage lights flash, and Love
Ruckus kicks full tilt into the first set of their Friday night
performance at the Whiskey.
Bobbing his short, afro-ed Chia head in tune with the rest of
the five-member outfit, lead singer Eric Elbogen flashes his eyes,
his arms flailing to the incantations released from his lips. To
his right, the short, shirtless, hairless bassist rips into his
funky instrument like a spastic plucked chicken. In direct contrast
to his high energy chords, the guitarist on the other side of
Elbogen stands stock still, like Dave Nevarro, connecting with the
wispy chords and Grateful Dead-like flair of the song.
As the go-go dancers do the swim in the corner, the crowd tries
desperately to catch the band’s vibe, but no one seems able to
understand how this sunny afternoon groove made it into a dark
Sunset night club. Still, they nod their heads respectfully, as the
crew slips into the second song, full of slower riffs. As the
bassist begins stomping, the drummer bangs away on his set, his
bushy afro dripping over his chin and hiding him in a jungle of
curls.
Soon, the last surge of electric energy trails off and Elbogen
ends his swaying, at last able to speak to the audience.
"We’re gonna take an inner ride to a far off land, to Love and
Ruckuses and Moonpools and Caterpillars," he breathes, referencing
the previous band. "And all that crazy stuff. I don’t know if
there’s room for all of you, so maybe if you scream a little louder
the conductor will let you on."
With this, he sends his guitar into a steady driving sputter,
chanting, "tick, tick, tock" like the wheels of a train. The Congo
drummer, clearly John Lennon reincarnate, lets loose, tapping his
toes to a distant world only he can see. Though half of the
audience has cleared out by now, a good number of fans still exist.
The show becomes more intimate and smooth, as Love Ruckus focuses
on their sound, unconcerned with providing a wild event. As the
last song melts away, Elbogen begins the tender piece,
"Butterflies."
Yet, Love Ruckus seems to be at their best when Elbogen takes a
break from the mike, focusing instead on a solid jam where all
three guitarists wheel around each other, the two drummers
providing a spiritual beat. Still, trying their hands at a bit of
clever showmanship, the bassist asks Elbogen melodramatically for a
smoke. Soon, Elbogen straps on a harmonica and wails something
about a cigarette as most audience members look up in confusion.
However, with a drink in one hand, they begin squirming to the
song’s rhythm, unable to care much about the lyrics.
Soon after, Elbogen abandons his vocals and concerns himself
with his guitar. The bass trickles in, reverberating like a snake
slithering in and out of waves of torture. Elbogen and his band
glow to the radiation of a common vibe, strongly in tune with each
other’s style, while a sad, red light ushers them along.
Just as the crowd begins to understand Love Ruckus’ groove, the
stage turns to yellow and Elbogen yells out, "Johnny, take us to
Arabia." Doors-style notes spread through the small club as the
bassist moans like a dessert monk through the sound system, deep
into the caravan trails laid in the crowds’ minds. Elbogen and the
bassist share a grin of connecting while the melodies warp into
each other with swami-like zeal.
By the last song, most of the audience has begun nodding off,
but they get it together for a final surge of enthusiasm. Friends
of Love Ruckus start a wild "skanking" session in the Whiskey’s
back corner as the song spins into a full-bodied experience,
complete with astral guitar splatterings. Rolling riffs and a
steady beat trail off into the night. Though it’s 1:20 in the
morning, Love Ruckus has so tapped into their vibe that they could
probably stroll on through dawn with their stirring sound and
gyrating notes. All members of the band bop their heads
simultaneously to the beat, and the bassist even head-butts Elbogen
playfully in a final display of emotion, before the lights turn
dark and the Whiskey clears out.
BAHMAN FARAHDEL
Love Ruckus’ lead singer made a flashy entrance with a go-go
dancer on each arm during Saturday’s concert at the Whiskey.