Amps were blown.
On Sunday, a few hundred people in Freud Playhouse were lucky
enough to catch the two-by-four to the head that is David
Thomas’ dynamic duo of punk rock, Rocket From the Tombs and
Pere Ubu. The show concluded a three-day orgy of avant-noise and
rock ‘n’ roll poetry known to the mere mortals in
attendance at Disastodrome!
Frank Black kicked off the festivities Friday with an inspired
acoustic set. The former Pixies bandleader wailed and crooned his
way through 40 minutes of his quirky Western soul. Black’s
nimble guitar playing and angular riffs were stellar, but it was
the man’s voice, filling the corners of Freud Playhouse, that
maintained the set’s intensity. The Kidney Brothers played an
arresting set of blues with the use of two guitars and the
occasional harmonica solo. It’s not often an opening act
plays an encore performance, but such was the case with the crowd
pleasing duo.
Friday night’s highlight, though, was undeniably Thomas.
Lurching around stage and clutching a flask, his nasally croon
drifted in and out of the set between Andy Diagram’s trumpet,
off-kilter electronic manipulation and Keith Moline’s
delicate guitar. More akin to broken carnival music than structured
rock ‘n’ roll, the inventive trio took their music to
surreal, even creepy heights. The abstract soundscapes they crafted
were loyal to the group’s motto: Self-expression is evil.
Saturday witnessed the U.S. debut of Thomas’
improvisational rock opera, “Mirror Man.” The show, an
abstract pastiche of musical monologues, found sound and
extraordinarily frenzied rock ‘n’ roll, painted a
haunting picture of longing and loss in the American West. While
lacking any cohesive narrative structure, the show relentlessly
assaulted the senses and emotions of the audience, the cacophonous
light and sound providing the perfect compliment to the frequent
emotional crescendos.
Still, the highlight of the festival was Sunday’s concert.
Rocket From the Tombs, a legendary, if somewhat obscure, ur-punk
outfit from Cleveland played its first show in 27 years. If the
performance Sunday is any indicator, this band hasn’t missed
a beat. The band’s original guitar player, Peter Laughner
died in 1977, but Thomas has found an able replacement in Richard
Lloyd, formerly of fellow punk legends Television.
Though joking that they had already broken up four times that
day and threatening to do so once again, Rocket From the Tombs
played a tight, focused, energetic set of their original material
and garnered awed approval from the audience. Indeed, if a single
complaint could be leveled, it would be that the band simply rocked
too hard for the seated Freud crowd.
One concert-goer was reduced to near hysterics, able to only
repeat again and again, “Rocket From the Tombs rocks my
socks.”
But if his socks were rocked by the first set, he must have lost
his pants by the time the night was over. After a brief
intermission, Thomas took the stage once again with his main band,
Pere Ubu.
Pere Ubu has been turning out consistently revolutionary rock
since the late ’70s, and Sunday’s performance was no
exception. Thomas delivered baleful, apocalyptic vocals, all the
while gloating over the fact that the set was in alphabetical
order.
“And you couldn’t tell the difference,” he
told the audience as his set came to a close.
The one-song encore was far from sufficiently satisfying the
hunger of the audience for more.
The festival’s poster said that “We call it DISASTO
so nothing can go wrong.” Far from going wrong, Thomas’
opus this weekend may have made rock history.
And if nothing else, it rocked everyone’s socks.