Yow’s new band is all the good parts of the ’90s brought back for your enjoyment
I have been listening to Jesus Lizard since I was 13. My friend Owen put on two songs from “Liar” on a tape he made for me before I moved to the Tri-Cities and that was all that was needed to hook me. On that same trip, I read every Thrasher I owned, including one from ‘91(?) that had an interview with Jesus Lizard where they asked David Yow, “Do you get drunk for every show?” And he replied, “I call it ‘getting lubricated,’ and yes, I feel I should get a little lubricated before every show.”*
I missed my one opportunity to see the Lizard — a Portland show just after “Down” came out — and I missed all three Scratch Acid reunion shows. But luckily I, and practically anyone else who wants to, can see Yow in all his glory fronting Qui. To sum up Qui pre-Yow is easy: Jesus Lizard meets Houdini-era Melvins. Now fronted by Yow, it’s almost like the [url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMmPn-6DUYM]real thing.[/url]
Qui played two shows in the Bay Area that weekend, at the Hemlock and the Uptown, and the Uptown promised a longer show at a venue that wouldn’t be as crowded as the Hemlock on a Saturday night. I missed the first band but caught stoner-rock two-piece Lozen, who Yow appreciated more than the audience did; he dropped their name as well as made out with one of them during Qui’s set.
Replicator played directly before Qui and I can honestly say I have never seen a more contrived band. Qui sounds like the ’90s, but Replicator WANTS to sound like the ’90s. I left after the bass player, a fat, blonde guy with glasses and a TAR shirt, put one foot on the monitor and made the most ridiculous rocking-out moves I’ve ever seen. Sadly, because I refused to watch the rest of the band’s set, I missed them play “Wheelchair Crisis” with Yow singing. Boo!!!
In the first few songs of Qui’s set, people started leaving. It’s understandable; those first songs were listless and so was the band. People like my friend Mike stormed out, ranting that “They want to be Jesus Lizard without a bass player, and the bass player was the best part!” (I’m guessing they’re going to face that kind of criticism for as long as they exist.)
Then Yow mentioned something about a song Lozen wrote and the band busted into “Glamorous.” You can hear people in my recording going, “No way!” Even I threw down my headphones and ran right to the front of the stage. I would say everyone, even the soundman, lost their shit.
Everything went uphill from there. The second half of the set featured less art and more Melvins-like heaviness, and the band really pumped up the performance.
I kept trying to pull Yow into the crowd, but he resisted. He never stagedived the entire show; he didn’t even jump on the people in the front of the stage. The way things were going, I realized no one planned on stage diving, so I took the honor for myself.
As I ran past Yow to the other side of the stage, I heard him guffaw. He probably knew what was coming.
After taking off, my face, or more specifically my lip, collided with another man’s skull. I felt it swelling up instantly. The funny part was that the man who I fell into didn’t seem to mind, but his girlfriend sure did; she pushed me and hit me as I walked away. I just laughed because, by the time I reached my original position in front of the stage, a pit was in full force and someone was crowd surfing. I think my message got across.
Though the band was great, Yow was worth the price of admission. Not only did he still own the stage, pulling off other antics such as swinging the mic stand and dropping his mic, he was a gentlemen: when someone in the audience asked him for one of his beers, he obliged. Even better, he has a totally Berkeley cousin — glasses, North Face Jacket, and his wife drove him off in a Prius — and Yow seemed genuinely excited that they came out; he ushered them over to the merch table and told them to take “whatever they wanted.”
I caught him around that time, told him how great the show was and shook his hand. I told him how great it was that he was a “lifer” and he said, “I don’t know about that!” I left him soon afterwards, but not before I told him what he probably already knew, that he was “the soundtrack for a generation.” He looked at me quizically; hearing it from a guy with a swelling lip who was obviously “well-lubricated” himself, he probably realized it was nothing to be proud of.
I’m only posting three songs from the show; since I left the recording device unattended, I picked up a ton of “pops” and “crackles” I still have to remove. Be patient.
***Thanks to Adam Idea for the pictures!***
*Could be a misquote; it is from memory.