Rat Beach Party
Red Parrot, September 27, 2014
Review and photos by John Keegan
Blowfish in Paris. Sounds like the title of the next Jennifer
Aniston romcom. We imagine the Blowfather
sitting in his hotel overlooking the Rive Gauche, sipping café crème
at 11 pm sweating and slightly delirious, jonesing for the Midway
and a semi-secret Real Kids gig. Will he crack? Will
he slither out and head out into the Parisian night for a guitar fix?
Tune in next week.
In the meantime, we will do what we can to document
the drift of the recent hyperactive action around town. The
Rat Beach party had a hell of a lot of competition for a Saturday
night. Barry and the Remains and Downbeat 5
were at the Regent. Terry Brenner had booked a sweet
looking show at the Spotlight in scenic Beverly. Finally, there was
a rip snorting hard core show downstairs at the Middle East.
The Rat party is a great bash for a good cause -
raising money for The
Rat Musicians Scholarship Fund. It’s a cool mix of cause,
people, the space, drifting between floors, booze and food and the beach
and bands. Saturday’s attendance was respectable, but folks, there is
plenty of room for more. It’s like our own little ATP. It takes place
in Hull, just east of Paris at the edge of nowhere after the season
has passed – nice. Some gripe that it isn’t quite true to The Rat’s
original spirit. Ok, point taken, but so what. What good is nostalgia
if it can’t be a thematic building block to something relevant in real
time? This is a great Boston rock party with outta sight potential.
The Red Parrot is a mid-sized, tri-level
seaside joint overlooking lovely Nantasket Beach. The
food is decent - $1 oysters from 4 – 6pm anyone? Use the libatious upstairs
bar. The band mix is a mish mash of styles and genre. It’s a party mix.
If you don’t like this band go check out the one playing downstairs.
Its catch as catch can for attention spans and first up it’s the Deranger’s.
They played around town in the 90’s and are at it again. Today, they
have lost their bass player to traffic and play as a duo with
Drew Townson on a vintage ’61 Strat he calls Daphne
Blue. Boy, she’s a stunner. They play a stew of spaghetti surf
twang, that, judging from the title of their recent cd, they call Westernmental.
Jimmy Webb’s Wichita Lineman sans lyrics is a familiar
beauty.
Them there pseudo psycho hillbillys Hixx,
then proceed to light up the BBQ. Jeb Hixx on vocals
and guitar, Dusty "Numbnuts" Hixx on lead guitar and
vocals, Ulysses S. Hixx rockin’ on bass and backing
vocals and Nikki Hixx on drums, collectively pose the
musical question of do you prefer sheep or cows. The query seems to
get Dusty’s attention because he is kickin a little six string ass for
the middle of the afternoon. Sabbath Swampy Sabbath. Suddenly, a shotgun
beer contest seems in order – come on, you remember, poke a quarter
sized hole in the bottom of an aluminum tall, cover with mouth, lift,
pop the tab and swallow, fast.
Next up we have Mercy. They are
a more than adequate late 60’s 70’s classic rock cover band. They have
the right bar band spirit. The gal on lead vocals can belt out a tune.
The guitarist is tight but brings his own thing to his solos. The keyboard
player pricks up ears whenever he pushes out one of those synth B3 solos.
The crew who never stray far left of 100.7 could do a lot worse than
to run into Mercy on a Friday night at a Rt. 1 wrinkle
ranch or rocking up the dance floor at wedding reception.
And now for something entirely different – HardWired.
They’ve got a metal heart. The bs, dr, and gtr keep it big and heavy.
The wiry dude on lead with the Dean Dimebionic keeps
the licks fast and scorching and throws whammy bar howl fuel on the
fire. The churning vocal keeps up with the storm. A little distorto
cookie monster might be in order.
Pop Gun is in full hard rock bore
in the downstairs room. Harry Z. leads the charge on
vocals and bass. Harry S. rocks the rhythm. Jim
Melanson rips out the leads and backup vocals. Drummer
Greg Walsh bangs the cans. The guitars and vocals are competing
for attention. They are slingin’ some big rock power pop and it sounds
good.
One sleepy August afternoon, a long, long time ago,
some elementary school hoodlums plucked a bunch of crawdads from the
12 Feet Deep Brook. They nonchalantly dropped them in to the lobster
tank at the local First National grocery store. Within a very short
time it was declared that one of the lobsters had had babies. And that,
boys and girls, is how Moose and the Mudbugs were born…
well, those crusty crustaceans are still raising a ruckus. They rip
through a short set of punkfunk by way of New Orleans. A tip of Prez’s
snazzy black leather cap to Matt B. on replacement
bass for helping Andy the drummer keep the tunes on the tracks. Prez
keeps the fire box full. Alfred Hitchcock does a bari
cameo on the funkified Festival Time and the psycho nematodian Worms.
When Moose hits the stage a rocking good party always
erupts.
Rat Beach Party
|
Rat Beach Party
|
Rat Beach Party
|
Rat Beach Party
|
Hixx - Dusty "Numbnuts" Hixx
|
J-Rat
Project
|
Rat Beach Party
|
Jonee
Earthquake
|
Harry
Sabean of Pop Gun
Reserved
Parking
|
HardWired
|
Rat Beach Party
|
Rat Beach Party
|
Jonee
Earthquake Band
|
Jonee
Earthquake
|
Jonee
Earthquake with Lauren McGrath
|
Dancers:
Lauren McGrath and J. Keegan
|
Laureen
McGrath
|
John
Keegan
|
Bjorn
Nilsson
|
Mathew
Gilbert Gravedancers
|
Gravedancer
|
Harry
Z - Pop Gun
|
Greg
Walsh - Pop Gun
|
Red
House Power Trip
|
Harry
Sabean - Pop Gun
|
Rat Beach Party
|
Rat Beach Party
|
|