Thursday, July 14
Jacykl with The Nigel Dupree Band and Switchmen
Buster’s; 899 Manchester. 9 P.M.
When we were still impressionable youths, under Reagan, we decided, all of us, that we were going to like, listen to, and purchase music produced by blow-dried, androgynous men wearing spandex trousers and sequinned vests. So we did, and that arrangement carried on for the best part of the decade. But the quality of the music declined over time: early Crüe gave way to early Posion gave way to early Warrant, or just Warrant in totality. So goes rock ‘n roll, in cycles. And since this cycle of rock had reached low ebb by ‘89 or so, we realized we wanted something new, something serious. Something to reflect the gravity of the times.
Well, as you know, what happened is that we decided the blow-drying and androgyny had to go, and with them the cartoonish lyrics and sophomoric subject matter, because in ‘89 the world was changing, sometimes in unsettling ways. We needed rock tough enough to carry us through uncertain, unstable times. Kip Winger didn’t write that music, you know?
This cultural need generated two primary responses. First, the remaining hair bands wiped off the makeup, washed out the mousse, and tried to get tough. Most failed, but two of those who succeeded went on to be considered among the most important heavy rock bands of their generation: Guns N’ Roses and Pantera.
The second response came from Seattle, where the ‘80s narrative of the drug-fueled orgy had long since given way to the narrative of the overdose, and so the Seattle bands played loud guitars but sang sensitive lyrics, about real feelings and such. Of those bands, the first couple were excellent, and also went on to be considered among the most important heavy rock bands of their generation: Audioslave and Foo Fighters.
So that was the scene, back then: shooting up, grabbing an espresso, and headbanging to songs with nuanced, contemplative lyrics.
But then, in 1992, came Jackyl and their hit song “The Lumberjack,” and it was as though 1989 had never happened. Nuanced? Contemplative? No, man: drug-fueled orgies. Which was actually refreshing, because Eddie Vedder was really starting to harsh our buzzes with all the social-consciousness stuff, and all Jackyl apparently wanted us to do was drink beer and get laid. And bless them for that.
And theyr’e still at it, bearing the same message of happiness and fulfillment, even as the world has continued to change, almost always in unsettling ways. They’re still at it. Maybe rock doesn’t need to reflect the times at all. I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.
Friday, July 15
Churchill Jax
Cheapside; 131 Cheapside. 9 P.M.
Since I went on and on about Jackyl, the remaining bands listed in this calendar will receive one-word previews to save space. This word will be the best possible word in English to describe to experience of attending the listed show, and you should simply read the word, close your eyes for a moment, and apprehend how you feel about the word. Happy? Sad? Melancholic? Sanguine? Let your feelings be your guide. Ready?
Homegrown.
Orgone with Oh My Me
Cosmic Charlie’s; 388 Woodland. 9 P.M.
Sexual.
Monday, July 18
Cinderella
Buster’s; 899 Manchester. 9 P.M.
Nostalgic.
Friday, July 22
Asylum on the Hill with Truckfighters and Valley of the Sun
The Green Lantern; 497 W. Third. 8 P.M.
Cocksure.
—Buck Edwards
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