Not their first reunion, but these two shows were The Vaselines’ U.S. debut before heading to Seattle for this sellout record label’s anniversary show.

Maxwell’s

The Hoboken show, Wednesday, July 9, was nearly derailed.  Literally.  The PATH train that connects Hoboken to Manhattan went out of service at 6PM.  Anyone coming from New York who wanted to see the show had to take a PATH train to some other destination in Jersey and then get to Hoboken via the light rail system.  Simple enough for a local.  But for a native New Yorker?  It also didn’t help that light rail announcements of an approaching train didn’t simply say “Hoboken.”  They were more along the lines of “Second Street and Marshall.”  Where the hell is that? I just Googled it and got some place in Marshall, Ill.

Maxwell’s remains a wonderful place to see a show in an intimate setting.  In fact, 20 years ago (damn!) I saw Nirvana play Maxwell’s tiny stage opening for Tad.  Bleach, Nirvana’s first album, had come out already, but Tad’s God’s Balls was also out and seemed to be getting more play. At this time in their native Scotland, The Vaselines were on their last legs and broke up shortly after releasing their only LP, Dum-Dum. Of course, years later, Nirvana covering three Vaselines songs are what led to Sub Pop compiling The Way of the Vaselines, a complete anthology, in 1992. It also helped that Kurt Cobain endlessly heaped praise on the duo, Frances McKee and Eugene Kelly, as songwriters; I mean, Christ, he named his kid after McKee!

 The Indelicates actually look good here.

Opening at Maxwell’s were The Indelicates from the U.K. Hard to say what went wrong. Maybe their earnest insistence for the crowd to clap along in complicated rhythm (c’mon, they only clap for Bruce in Jersey).  Maybe it was their too-dry sense of humor (”This next song is about blowjobs.”). Maybe it was the sophisticated keyboard playing.  Yeah, that was it.  Always blame the keyboards.

The Vaselines 2008! L-R: Bobby Kildea, Frances McKee, Eugene Kelly, Richard Colburn. Out of frame: Stevie Jackson.

“Hey, how ya doing?” Kelly announced at the top. “America, you sexy bitch. We made it, eventually. We’re called the Vaselines.”  Then the show was off with “Son of a Gun” and its marching beat. It was apparent immediately that Eugene’s and Frances’ vocals hadn’t changed one iota in 20 years.  Eugene still sounded somewhat stern and slightly jaded. Frances sings like the girl who gets to do the solos during Carpenters’ songs in fourth grade: wonderfully innocent, wonderfully untrained. On the musical side, the Vaselines had ringers in the guise of 3/7ths of Belle and Sebastian’s current lineup. Bobby Kildea on bass, Richard Colburn on drums and Stevie Jackson, who was most comfortable out of sight, on guitar. Jackson added great leads, even giving “Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam” an unexpected country/western feel, but how could the singer/songwriter of standout B&S tracks such as “The Wrong Girl” and “To Be Myself Completely” have his vocal contribution reduced to meowing on the chorus to the Vaselines’ “Monsterpuss”? Aw, who am I kidding. I’d meow on all fours to be in that band.

Frances said rumors that “Molly’s Lips” was about oral sex were false because “we didn’t know what oral sex was when we wrote this song. . .and some of us still don’t know.”  “I do,” countered Eugene, “Frances told me all about it. Sounds like great fun. We’re gonna try it afterwards.”  Some more joking led to a false start with Frances gasping, “I can’t. . .”

If you’re not familiar with the layout of Maxwell’s, the stage is at a dead end in the room while the dressing rooms are downstairs. Musicians need to walk through the crowd to get between the two. Most bands don’t bother to step off the stage after the regular set and merely take a breather before launching into the encore. The Vaselines chose this route, with Eugene detailing a fantasy of being brought to orgasm by Bon Jovi.  When you conjure up that name, what else can you play except “You Think You’re a Man” for the encore?  They closed out the night with “Dum-Dum.”

Southpaw

I liked them at first. . .

Local band the Crystal Stilts came out strong with cavernous vocals, a thundering stand-up drum kit and a bass sound that threatened to swallow the entire city. A few songs in, they all started sounding the same. Not the fault of the band. The mix was terrible with the rhythm section overpowering the guitar and drowning out the keyboards completely.  But still, that first song was great and certainly better than anything the Indelicates had done the night before.

Encore?

Uh, oh, it’s the Indelicates again!  The Brooklyn crowd flat out dissed them. The noise at the bar was audible through nearly every song. When they started with the handclaps again, I was like, whoa, you’ve just unleashed a weapon of mass alienation!

It’s Stevie Jackson all the way to the right!

Less joking around this night in this larger venue.  I preferred the Maxwell’s show. I think Frances and Eugene did, too, judging by the number of references they made to onstage remarks at Maxwell’s.  “You’re as young as the audience is,” Frances said at one point.  “Yeah,” muttered Eugene, “I feel about 45.”  I’d say he was about 10 years too high. No surprises song-wise for those who attended the Maxwell’s show, right down to the encore.  The entire show was a bit like an extended encore of the previous night. Still, every moment is precious.  Who knows when they’ll be back, if ever?

Fuck, yes!

If I were returning from the the Land of Dead and Gone Things and I could take one thing back with me to the Realm of the Living, it would be Swervedriver.

Luckily, the band resurrected itself after a decade layoff and played at Manhattan’s Bowery Ballroom Wednesday June 11 and Brooklyn’s Music Hall of Williamsburg (both sold out) on Thursday June 12. In all honesty, Swervedriver has never really formed a critical mass in terms of fandom, but their fans — dudes now in their 30s — are seriously hardcore. If they had played New York five nights in a row, I’m sure it would have sold out and that I would be one among a thousand who would buy tickets for each night. It’s difficult to describe Swervedriver’s music (they titled an EP “Space Travel Rock n Roll,” and that’s a good filler answer). I would say that the music itself seems so infused with emotion, it hits the listener on a personal, subliminal level. Witness the audience, so lost in their own worlds, standing still, playing air guitar/bass/drums. If someone stepped away to go to the bathroom, he could return to his spot, as no one would advance to take it.

The Bowery Show

The first opening band, Terra Diablo of Scotland, were all right. Nothing really stuck to me and not too many people were there at this point. Extra points for knocking their equipment around at the end of the set!

Dirty on Purpose, the second opener, wasn’t really my kind of music. The drummer took most of the lead vocals and I couldn’t get into his treble-y voice. The guitarist on the left spoke up at one point. “Hey, I just heard somebody yell ‘Swervedriver.’ They’re playing next. There’s a nice bar downstairs if you want to wait for them.” “Be nice!” someone in the audience admonished him. Dirty on Purpose was in a tough spot. I mean, Jesus, I wouldn’t want to be the band opening right before a cult favorite playing a reunion tour.

Give Swervedriver credit for not wasting any time hitting the stage. After a tuning check, (left to right) Steve George, Jez Hindmarsh, Adam Franklin and Jimmy Hartridge came out to the instrumental, untitled track at the end of Ejector Seat Reservation’s last listed track “The Birds.” The band roared out with “Sandblasted” from first album Raise and and then peeled a sharp version of “The Birds.” The last time I had seen this band was Halloween night in 1998 at Maxwell’s in Hoboken, and damned if they weren’t tighter and hungrier now.

The Brooklyn Show

Up first was The Still Out. Not my kind of thing, and there was a strange moment when during an acoustic number, the keyboard player soloed way out of key, drawing concerned looks from his bandmates.

Up next were Longwave, whose members were impossibly skinny. Right before they went on, I heard one of the bouncers grumble, “These guys are so fucking loud.” I knew they had to be good! Longwave were probably the best opening act out of all four and certainly the most appropriate. Just the right balance of dissonance and dreaminess, IMHO.

What else can I say, except they were even better in Brooklyn, played my jams “The Hitcher” and “I Am Superman” (they didn’t the first night), and just killed with “Rave Down” in the encore.

Let’s do some new songs and a new album. Please. I’m begging here.

I went to see Wire last night, who kicked off the South Street Seaport Music Festival. I wasn’t really so sure if the mix of tourists and Wall Street types would be into the band, currently in their third (fourth?) comeback. But, hey, right in front of me were four guys in their late 50s who looked like they just walked out of a casual Friday at a brokerage. They were smoking pot, chugging beers, passing around a flask of Bacardi and yelling for “Ex-Lion Tamer,” which they never got.

Die!Die!Die!’s “terrified” singer Andrew Wilson.

Openers Die!Die!Die! of New Zealand were an admirably noisy trio. Singer Andrew Wilson looped his guitar track so he could put his instrument down and prowl around the gated area set aside for photographers and get face to face with the crowd. He did this no fewer than three times during a 35-minute set. Bassist Lachlan Anderson, looking like an emaciated, youthful J.J. Burnel, also joined him in the pit. Wound-up drummer Michael Prain was a bit of a ringer for Paul Dano, circa Little Miss Sunshine. Overall a good set, even though Wilson admitted to the crowd that he was “terrified.” Their sound was like a dusty vinyl copy of Pink Flag played with a dull needle. In other words — Bravo!

“We Is Wire. . .You Is Welcome.”

Wire took to the stage and singer/guitarist Colin Newman (who now resmbles Ben Linus from Lost) noted to the crowd, “We is Wire. . .you is welcome,” before launching into a song presumably off the new album (due in July). It’s a nod to the hardcore non-conformism that they play to a huge outdoor crowd and open with a song nobody knows and don’t bother to acknowledge the absence of founding member Bruce Gilbert or that touring guitarist Margaret Fielder had taken his place. In fact, no song introductions period. Graham Lewis mock-thanked the crowd for missing a “golden opportunity” to see the Eagles, who were in the midst of playing a multi-night stand at Madison Square Garden. Newman added: “In 1977 the Eagles were one thing — the enemy!” The crowd cheered. Super lanky Robert Gotobed was having some problems, not sure what, but occasionally he got up from his drum kit and waved his hands around. At one point Lewis besought the lighting person to cut down on his predilection for strobe lights: “I’m getting epileptic up here!” Lotsa energy, lotsa rhythm, lotsa songs sung by Lewis. It’s a new prime period for Wire. The only nod to time passing was an Apple MacBook set up on a stand by Newman’s mike, but I couldn’t tell if it was to display lyrics or had something to do with his effects set up.

First encore: “Lowdown”; “1 2 X U.”

Second encore: “Pink Flag” (with Lewis’ dedication, “For all our dead friends. You’ve all got dead friends.”) With the repeated chorus, “How many dead or alive in 1955?” followed with many shouted, “How many?”s observers had to take it as a sly reference to the Iraq War.

Wire has nothing to prove. They are the proof.

Yeah, I took lotsa pics in this doorway. . .

Check out my Shuffled! feature over on boston progress radio. I talk a leel ’bout six songs picked randomly from my vast music archive.

Artists covered include: Billy Bragg, Asobi Seksu, Taiyo Na, Bad Brains, Asian Dub Foundation and Yellow Rage. I speak of all of them in a rather irreverent tone meant to amuse more than inform.

I will actually be in Boston in July to do a reading, too, man!

Is this generally known? Talking about his genetic makeup, James Brown wrote in his autobiography “I Feel Good: A Memoir of a Life of Soul”:

“I also have some Chinese in me, at least as much as I have black (and maybe a little Egyptian King Tut thrown in for good measure). All you have to do is look at my face–it’s all there.”

Don’t believe me? Check page 54, the beginning of the second chapter, using the search engine on Amazon.com.

Okay, okay, JB was pretty whacked out at times, certainly not in the least here. But hell, I want it to be true so badly. C’mon, papa’s got a brand new five-pound bag of rice!

In any case, happy lunar new year!

(Left, the New Colony Six and RJM Band collection “Sides.” Center, Ray Graffia back in the day. Right, Ray rocking out in November 2007 in New York City.)

Here’s the verdict on New Colony Six’s “Sides” album — it’s pretty essential listening for all you garage music fans. Of primary interest to the most Nugget-headed is the unearthing of a monstrous version of “Rap-A-Tap” — apparently the version favored by the songwriters Ronnie Rice and Ray Graffia.

How do I know? Well, I had an e-chat with New Colony Six co-founder Graffia. I had caught the Chicago-based ‘Six at Cavestomp this past November and although some may unfairly typecast them as a ballads band, they stomped through garage classics such as “At the Rivers Edge,” “A Heart Is Made of Many Things” and “I Confess” from their stone-cold classic first album “Breakthrough” and “Love You So Much” from the also-great second album “Colonized.” And of course, “Rap-A-Tap”!

Even though the Sonics reunion grabbed most of the media attention for the festival, New Colony Six ruled Saturday night, especially after co-headliner Strawberry Alarm Clock turned in a sludgy and indulgent performance — complete with a 15-minute drum solo that pushed more than half the crowd out to the bar area.

Graffia was in fine voice and spirits, dancing, as I wrote in this space earlier, “like a little kid after nap time.” After co-founding the band in 1965, Graffia left in 1969 and formed the Raymond John Michael Band, aka the RJM Band.

But all good things that end come back together and the 21st century finds Graffia back with New Colony Six.

“Sides” the CD was released late in 2007 and includes unreleased songs and alternate takes from not only New Colony Six’s first two albums but also the RJM Band.

Incredibly, the album closes with the title track with vocals that Graffia laid down less than a year ago. I didn’t have the liner notes because I bought the album through iTunes — and I had thought the song had been recorded — and sung — back in the day! And I mean that as a mark of quality!

There is only one song in the collection that rubs me the wrong way, and it was recorded post Graffia’s departure, so I can’t blame him for it!

In any case, this album is the next logical step after “Breakthrough” and “Colonized.” I would readily compare New Colony Six favorably with the Zombies, complete with timeless vocal harmonies. Such a tie-in leads wonderfully into the Q&A with Ray (his replies in reader-friendly all-caps):

–The first time I heard New Colony Six, I thought it was the Zombies. (I hope you take that as a compliment!)

ONE OF MY FAVORITE BANDS FROM THE INVASION - THRILLED TO BE IN THE SAME SENTENCE WITH THEM

– Both you and Colin Blunstone have a certain cool plaintiveness in your voices.

THE PROSECUTION RESTS; THE PLAINTIVE IS TOO COOL - WHAT - PARDON THE NONSENSICAL REPLY HERE - LEFT WORK EARLY AND HAD TO SHOVEL SNOW - TOO LITTLE OXYGEN TO THE BRAIN PERHAPS?

– Former Zombies members Chris White and Rod Argent formed the band Argent to go in a more commercial direction than their old band. Is it fair to see Raymond John Michael Band in that light?

I’D SAY MUCH THE OPPOSITE SINCE RJM LIVE WAS SOME BLUES, ORIGINALS AND COVERS OF BANDS RANGING FROM LED ZEP ALBUM CUTS TO ELECTRIC FLAG TO OBSCURE MUSIC WHICH LEFT MANY FOLKS SCRATCHING THEIR HEADS - WE HAD BEEN SO PIGEOH-HOLED AS BALLADEERS BY THE TIME OF RJM’S FORMATION THAT PLAYING GARAGE AND ROCK & ROLL WAS ALL WE WANTED TO DO. OF COURSE, WE DID WANT TO ACHIEVE COMMERCIAL SUCCESS TOO, HENCE THE DECISION TO COVER THE BEEGEES TUNE. [”Let There Be Love,” ed.] WE FIGURED THAT THE COLONY TIE IN WITH THREE OF US [two other original ‘Sixers — Craig Kemp and James Chitkowski a.k.a. Chic James — were also in RJM Band, ed.], ALONG WITH A STRONG BALLAD, MIGHT AT LEAST GET US AIRPLAY AND WHEN THAT FAILED TO MATERIALIZE WE RELEASED RICH KID BLUES [a song by Terry Reid] TAKING THE OPPOSITE APPROACH. TO THIS DAY I BELIEVE THAT NC6′S MANAGEMENT PLAYED BLOCKER FOR OUR GETTING ON THE RADIO - HECK WE EVEN HAD LONDON RECORDS AS OUR LABEL (AS THEY SIGNED US AWAY FROM A LOCAL LABEL - NOT SENTAR [New Colony Six’s original label]) BUT THE TWO MAIN DUDES BACKING NC6 WERE REALLY POWERFUL FOLKS AT THE TIME SO I WILL PROBABLY GO TO MY GRAVE THINKING THAT IS WHAT HAPPENED. BUT, WHY WHINE - C’EST LA VIE, EH?

–With Sides coming out now, is it odd for you to see the RJM Band material on the same disc as the New Colony Six songs?

NOT ODD TO ME AT ALL. WHAT WAS ODD WAS OUR OPENING FOR NC6 AT ONE GIG - NEVER WORKED HARDER IN MY LIFE TO WIN OVER THE CROWD! BESIDES BEING A SONG ON THE CD, WE CHOSE “SIDES” AS THE CD TITLE BECAUSE THE DISC SHOWS TWO SIDES (OR MORE) TO HALF OF THE FOUNDERS OF THE COLONY - I SAW RJM AS THE NEXT GENERATION NC6.

–Could you have done RJM Band songs such as “Gwendolyn,” “I Can’t Believe That We’re Alone” and “Hitch-Hiker” while you were in New Colony Six?

ONLY AS ALBUM CUTS AT BEST AND IF I BROUGHT “ICBTWA” TO NC6, MANAGEMENT SURELY WOULD HAVE HAD RONNIE RICE SING IT. I THINK RJM’S MUSICAL DIRECTION WAS TRUER TO THE COLONY’S ROOTS THAN WE HAD BECOME RIGHT BEFORE I LEFT THE BAND.

–Who are Bobby and Georgia in the gender-bending RJM Band romp “Bobby and Georgia”?

TRULY NO ONE - JUST AN ANDROGYNOUS NAME (BOBBY/BOBBIE) AND ANOTHER THAT OFTEN CAME TO BE (IN THE WEIRD WORLD OF MY MIND) WHEN A DAD NAMED GEORGE BEGAT A DAUGHTER AND WAS DISAPPOINTED ENOUGH TO NAME HER GEORGIA. I WONDER IF YOU RECOGNIZED THE TUNED POP BOTTLES THAT WE TOOTED AMIDST THE SILLINESS THAT WAS B&G?

–What is the story with the unearthed wondrously fuzzed-out version of “Rap-A-Tap” (even more garage-y than the alternate version Sundazed added onto the Colonization reissue)?

THAT WAS RONNIE’S AND MY VISION OF THE SONG WHEN WE WROTE IT, BUT MANAGEMENT SAW IT MORE ALONG THE LINES OF I’M JUST WAITIN’ ANTICIPATIN’ - [a horn-heavy song on second album “Colonization.” ed.] HENCE THE OTHER ARRANGEMENT

– Are there more goodies in the vaults?

AL CAPONE’S COLLECTION OF DOILIES BUT NOT MUCH MORE THAN THAT…

–For me, the only sour note on Sides is New Colony Six’s foray into Southern boogie rock, “Muddy Feet (On the Mississippi)” complete with a chorus that mentions “angels flying high in heaven.”

PERSONALLY I LIKE THE TUNE - AT LEAST IT WAS NOT A FREAKIN’ BALLAD! ON THE OTHER HAND, IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN SOMETHING FOR JOHN FOGERTY, ALLMAN BROTHERS, DOOBIES OR SOME SUCH, NOT NC6.

– Were the Six considering going in that direction? Had you left by then?

SINCE ELVIS (AND I) HAD INDEED LEFT THE BUILDING BY THE TIME OF ITS RECORDING, I CANNOT SAY WITH SURETY WHAT DROVE THE BAND TO BRING IT INTO THE STUDIO.

–Graffia’s (the band) track “Sides” from which the title is taken sounds pretty promising. What can you tell me about that project?

THANK YOU FIRST AND FOREMOST - IT IS A SONG I HAD WRITTEN AND FORGOT ABOUT UNTIL MY BROTHER, RON - 10 YEARS YOUNGER THAN ME AND THE REAL MUSICAL TALENT IN THE FAMILY - AND I UNEARTHED A REEL TO REEL REHEARSAL TAPE FOR RJM THAT FEATURED THE TUNE. HE IMMEDIATELY HEARD IT AS IF THROUGH PETE TOWNSEND’S OR KETIH MOON’S EARS AND BANGED OUT THE ENTIRE MUSICAL TRACK. I PUT VOCALS TO THE SONG THIS PAST EASTER (RESURRECTION OF A RECORDING CAREER MAYBE?) AND, SHOULD WE GET ENOUGH COMMENTS LIKE YOURS AND/OR AIRPLAY SOME PLACE - EVEN OVERSEAS, WE ARE TALKING ABOUT DOING MORE SONGS TOGETHER AND HAVE A FEW IDEAS ALREADY AT LEAST A MOMENT OR TWO BEYOND GERMINATION.

–What do you think of original copies of “Breakthrough” going for several hundred dollars on eBay?

STUNNED AND AGGRAVATED - THE FORMER OVER THE PRICES; THE LATTER BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE A COUPLE 100 COPIES TO DRIBBLE OUT TO THE BUYING PUBLIC!

– Why has interest in bands and songs from the 60s been rising?

I CAN ONLY SAY HOW BLESSED I FEEL THAT IT IS HAPPENING BUT HAVEN’T A CLUE WHY. MY SOLE THEORY IS THE DEARTH OF GOOD MUSIC BEING SHOVED AT TODAY’S RECORD BUYERS - CONSIDER BRITNEY AGUILERA, OR JAY Z OR JAY LO OR JB AND THE SUNSHINE BAND OR RAP - NONE OF WHICH APPEAL MUCH TO ME. SHOOT IT CAN’T BE US BOOMERS PULLING STRINGS BECAUSE MOST OF US ARE ALREADY BEYOND THE STAGE OF ADDING TO OUR ALBUM COLLECTIONS. DO YOU THINK IT COULD BE BECAUSE PARENTS LISTEN TO OLDIES STATIONS AND THEIR KIDS FIND THE MUSIC TO BE ACTUAL MUSIC AS OPPOSED TO WHAT IS BEING RELEASED BY THE POSERS I LISTED ABOVE? A SECOND THEORY GENERATED ON THE FLY AND OFF THE CUFF!

–What advice would you give to people who are just starting a band?

HAVE A PLAN “B”. WITH THE LOSS OF SO MANY VENUES TO DJS AND PRE-RECORDED MUSIC, I CANNOT FATHOM HOW A BAND CAN EARN A LIVING TODAY DOING GIGS. THEN, CONSIDER THE EXTREMELY LIMITED OPPORTUNITIES FOR AIRPLAY AND THE EXTREME COSTS OF DOING VIDEOS, AND YOU CAN UNDERSTAND MY INITIAL SENTENCE. I’LL BET THERE ARE DOZENS IF NOT 100S OF GROUPS WHO JUST GAVE UP BECAUSE IT IS SO TOUGH TO BREAK-OUT POST Y2K… AND THAT IS A REAL SHAME. PLACES LIKE MYSPACE AND YOUTUBE ARE (I HOPE NOT) THE FINAL FRONTIER. INDIE SEEMS TO ME TO BE THE ONLY AVENUE OPEN FOR 99% OF STRUGGLING MUSICAL ARTISTS, SO EVERYBODY SUPPORT LIVE MUSIC AND DOWNLOAD A COUPLE BUCKS WORTH OF TUNES FROM ANY BAND WHOSE STUFF YOU ENJOY. AND WITH THAT, I WILL JUMP OFF MY SOAPBOX AND HEAD OFF TO THE KITCHEN TO HEAT UP A CAN OF SOUP AND MAKE SOME TOAST FOR FRIDAY NIGHT DIN-DIN - MMMM MMMM GOOD!

Go here now!

http://www.myspace.com/colonyjr

I went to see Ian Mackaye of Minor Threat, Fugazi and now The Evens speak at this on Saturday.

I had sat in the front center seat for the previous panel, which was all about publicizing your work to became famous and rich or both. I felt somewhat uncomfortable during the discussion I guess because there was such a disconnect between the business and the craft of writing.

I remained in my front seat for Ian’s talk, so he actually ended up right in front of me. When someone handed him a bottle of water, he ripped the paper label off so it wouldn’t look like was endorsing the brand. That’s punk!

Ian brought up that good ol’ DIY ideology of creating art and moving forward. “We have our world, and they [meaning corporate America] have theirs.”

Ian also noted that he knew artists who had crates of unsold records and books piled up in their homes. But that shouldn’t be discouraging because even if you don’t reach what you perceive to be your deserved level of fame — “at least you failed at doing something you loved.”

He talked a little bit about the Nike thing and in a subsequent answer to a question, he mentioned the phrase “just do it.” Someone pointed out that that was Nike’s motto. Sheepishly, Ian took a dollar from his pocket and handed it to the guy who spoke up.

Some jerk asked him if he were still straight edge. There were some boos in the audience. Ian paused a long time and before answering told him, “I’m not mad that you asked. ” Then he went on to say that he had written “Straight Edge” when he was 18 and asked the questioner how he would feel if years later people used something he had written as an 18-year-old as justification for bombing a McDonald’s or beating up people.

Here’s the thing that that jerk questioner didn’t get, and a lot of other people don’t get. Ian has dedicated his life to being independent of pretty much any movement (and ironically straight edge became a movement). And yet, after writing song after song that told listeners to be individuals and to think for themselves, people just stuck up Ian on a pedestal and dehumanized him.

I guess Ian underestimated how much people crave to be told what to do.

Most revelatory about Ian’s talk was that he was inspired by Jimi Hendrix to write “Straight Edge” after hearing these words in “If Six Was Nine”:

“I’ve got my own life to live
I’m the one that’s gonna die when it’s time for me to die
So let me live my life the way I want to”

“Straight Edge” inspired by a decidedly non-straight-edge man who was similarly bent on independence? Just goes to show — keep an open mind and seemingly unlikely sources may inspire your own work.

Third night, here we go! It’s your MC, Lenny (”It’s a Nugget if you dug it!”) Kaye!

Up first, The Hall Monitors, from DC. Note female guitar player to the right. She becomes the first female in the festival to sing lead on a song.

The Hall Monitors have issued a pass for a special guest: Eddie Angel from Los Straitjackets! Adding Eddie brings hot licks to this band, which is ambitious, but wasn’t really there yet, musically, for me. Great energy, though!

Ah, now it’s The Wildebeests from Scotland. This beat trio sounded great from the get-go, opening with “Skinny Minnie.” Trios typically sound a little thin during guitar solos, but that rectangular guitar cranked out sparks; they sounded even more full during the solos! Great stuff!

The Lyres! Yeah! Nobody danced more to any other band in all three days, and the third-billed band even got to do an encore: “No Reason to Complain.” An Alarm Clocks (who played the previous night) cover.

And now The Fleshtones! They give you the shirt off their backs. At least singer Peter Zaremba will. (He also MC’d the first two Cavestomp nights.) The theatrics (entering the stage from the audience, playing wireless guitars; bassist Ken Fox and guitarist Keith Streng playing each other’s instruments while still wearing their own; playing on top of chairs set up in the middle of the audience) came off well, in fact, for me, better than the music itself. The PA itself was up WAY too high, reducing vocals to amplified subway announcements. The Fleshtones worked their asses off, no doubt, but I’ve never liked their songs (does that make me a jerk?). The live act is great but I don’t think I’d listen to them on my iPod.

The second night of The Sonics! Feeling confident after their triumphant return Friday night, they played louder and looser than the first night. Most notably singer Jerry Roslie was howling and screaming more. The Sonics botched the end of “Have Love, Will Travel,” but hell, they could do no wrong. The crowd wasn’t as jostling as Friday, but the music was utterly pulverizing! I understand original drummer Bob Bennett had flown in from Hawaii to watch from the audience while original bassist Andy Parypa was playing in The Daily Flash that same night (Daily Flash bassist Don Wilhelm was ironically filling in for The Sonics) so I guess the story that Andy had carpal tunnel syndrome and couldn’t play was a ruse! Let’s see all five original Sonics back together in 2008!

Well, if you’ve never been to the night spot Warsaw in Brooklyn, you’ve probably never had one of these (a kielbasa sandwich) during a 60s garage band show (people love pictures of food in blogs):

I missed taking a picture of the first band, The Higher State from England, but they were an OK, not particularly tight psych-influenced four piece. Extra points for the closing freakout, though.

Next up was The Urges from Dublin. Kinda like an Axl Rose-fronted Stones, and a bit cliche-ridden though they certainly had a lot of life in them.

Then we had The Alarm Clocks, probably best known for the “Yeah”/”No Reason to Complain” single collected on the first side of the the first LP in the “Back from the Grave” series. Singer-bassist Mike Pierce still sings and screams like a snotty teen who just got grounded. New songs and a new album early next year. “Watch” out for The Alarm Clocks!

You gotta love it when a band goes that extra mile to dress up, including thigh-high boots! Co-headliners The New Colony Six as of late have been playing various civic and corporate events, but hell, four-part harmonies never die! Cute anecdotes from Ray Graffia (who dances like a little kid after nap time) were as touching as their ballads, especially: “I wrote this song for a girl I was dating in 1966. Married her in 1967. As of September, it’s been 40 years. Now that shows you that there is faithfulness in rock ‘n’ roll.”

Co-headliner Strawberry Alarm Clock was set to close. You know there’s going to be trouble when you see this elaborate percussive setup around the drum kit.

Strawberry Alarm Clock played their entire first album “Incense and Peppermints” with the highlight the title track. Unfortunately, it’s the second-to-last-song, and psych isn’t really my thing. And a 15-minute drum solo about halfway through the album sure as hell isn’t either. Great that they dressed up and that each of their three guitarists were smokin’ players, but by the time of the encore, about 200 people were left in front of the band while the bar area off to the side had at least as many people. Contrast that with The Sonics, just the night before, when it felt like Warsaw’s capacity 800 people were pushing me around like the 6 train rush hour crowd. Psych is more mellow, too mellow for me. When another drum solo reared its ugly head during the encore, I had to leave. Sunday’s the third and last night!

I’m a big-time fan of The Back From the Grave/Garage Punk Unknowns/Nuggets 60s garage rock reissues/bootlegs, so I was overjoyed to see The Cavestomp back in action! (I was at the last one in 2001, also!)

Well, not a lot to write here, because the human connection with music predates language (our ancestors sang notes to communicate with each other before words were established), but hell, just go listen to The Sonics now now now!

No one is more ready for Cavestomp 2007 than this guy — more than an hour before the doors even open (in fact, you can see that they’re still hanging the friggin posters):

The Staggers, The Outta Place, The Satelliters and The Thanes all came out and rocked, but the curtain only drops for one band. . .

The Sonics storm out with “He’s Waiting”! Appropriate for the first show in nearly 40 years! Closed the set with “Psycho” and the encore was “Louie Louie” and “The Witch.” Not sure what the wizard T-shirt in front of screamer Jerry “I don’t know why they always spell it ‘Gerry’” Roslie’s keyboard is supposed to represent. . .They play again Sunday night, so for those of you in New York or nearby, come on out! I saw a woman there in a wheelchair, so nobody has any fucking excuses not to come! (Except for my wife, who despises such music.)