God Gave Rock & Roll To You

A day without rock and roll is far worse than a day without sunshine. I went to school in San Francisco for two years during which the sun only came out about seven times. Asking me to go an entire day without big, fat beats and fuzzed out guitars, however, is expecting the impossible.

It was a very, very sunny day last weekend when The Echoplex hosted nine stoner-rock bands, including Earthless, that real-live bunch from San Diego that is pretty much the single greatest band on the planet.

My dear friend Daisy (aka Day-Z) was my hook-up for this event, which was an added bonus since we don't get to hang out nearly enough these days. She had something to do that afternoon, so I was flying solo for the first couple bands until she joined me.

Day-Z's tardiness turned out to be a blessing for her. For starters, the doors didn't open until after 4 even though the tix said the event would begin at 3. If you haven't been to Echo Park recently, consider yourself lucky. To call it a crappy neighborhood would be giving the area far too much credit.

Things got started (just before 5) with a band who stumbled through an uninspired but mercifully short set in front of the handful of us who were punctual. It wasn't a bad band, per se, but there was nothing to really distinguish them or motivate me to give any of their music a listen.

Things picked up quickly, though, when Night Horse strafed the place. This five-piece set from Los Angeles was a revelation, featuring a snarling, hyperkenetic front-man; a tight, relentless rhythm section and a riff-tastic sound centered around a pair of lead guitarists that had a very-late '70s Detroit feel to it. (The same kinda stuff that The Racounteurs draw from for inspiration.)

A little post-concert homework revealed their debut EP is going to drop in the coming weeks and they nailed down at least one surefire sale with their scorching set. Now we were in business.

One of Night Horse's guitarists pulled double duty as he stuck around to front the next band on the bill, The Ancestors. This was by far the ticket's heaviest band, with a downtempo sound built on a seriously detuned guitar and a bass amp so loud that you could feel it in your chest cavity.

I'm not much of a doom metal fan, but The Ancestors were joined at the end of their set by a blonde girl who laid down a pretty lyricless vocal that offered a nice counterpoint to the band's sludgy sound. It reminded me of a heavy "Great Gig In The Sky" and was definitely the highlight of the set.

Day-Z arrived in time to see San Francisco's Assemble Head In Sunburst Sound, who had been touring with my beloved Earthless the last couple months, offer one of the bill's most interesting sets. We were intruiged the moment I saw them set up a theremin, which, for the uninitiated, is one of the first electric instruments and is best known for giving the Beach Boys' "Good Vibrations" the eerie haunted-house sound that accompanies the chorus. Sweet!

I really dug Assemble Head's sound, but am having a hard time trying to find ways to describe it. Theirs is a very ecelectic mix that encapsulates the sum of rock from the late-'60s through the mid-'70s: Kinda blusey, kinda spacey with a bit of dirty guitar to give it some teeth. It was such a great set that I immediately hit the merch table to pick up their CD, which I've really dug in the days since.



It's also worth noting that they had a cute hippy chick playing bass and keys, which is always a huge plus for a band. Halfway through the bill and two bands have been CD-purchase-worthy. Business was definitely picking up.

The good times continued with Graveyard, who were just plain brilliant! Incredible musicians and great songwriters who laid down very complex tracks with a lot of tempo changes and titanic drum breaks.

Most of the bill draws heavily from Black Sabbath for inspiration; It's kind of a given that retro-metal bands will look to the guys who invented the sound. But there's a lot more psychadelic blues reminiscent of Cream and Zeppelin in Graveyard than most of the bill.

It was the bill's third CD-purchase worthy offering, and Day-Z was particularly impressed with this Swedish band. And here we thought our friends to the far north were only good for boxy, reliable cars; cheap furniture and, of course ABBA.

I'll consider Graveyard as reparations for all of the above. All is now forgiven, Sweden.



That's bassist Mike Eginton.



Dude on the drum kit is Mario Rubalcaba.



And this is Isaiah Mitchell. Collectively they go by the name Earthless. Immediately contact the police if you see any of them because they killed a few hundred metalheads that night with an incindiary set that left a huge crater where the concert venue previously stood.

Think I'm gushing a little too much over Earthless? Then you've never heard them before. I've never heard a band that was so unrestrained and otherworldly without veering away from rock and roll into experimental noise. Earthless most definitely rocks. Rubalcaba and Eginton are the backbone; a tight unit that effortlessly seques from pushing the riff that forms the loosest of song structure for their jams while occasionally changing things up with a double-or-triple time outburst and some devestating seven-megaton beats.

Mitchell is nothing short of mind blowing, weaving an effects-laden guitar tapestry that melts the face of all who dare not avert their gaze. Like the rythm section, Mitchell switches gears many time during the set. Etherial sitar-like lullabies give way to massive, Earth-shattering riffs that explode into crushing tsunamis of wah-wah and feedback. Mitchell colors in the spaces between the riffs with inspired, seemingly endless, head-popping solos the likes of which I've never heard before.

I discovered Earthless at The Silent Movie Theatre a couple months back where they performed following a screening of the stoner-rock doc SUCH HAWKS, SUCH HOUNDS. I proceeded to fall in love with their glorious sound from their first note up until the LAPD shut 'em down about 40 heavenly minutes later. I scooped up the two records they've released over the past three years, and they are nothing like anything I've heard before: Old-school psychadelic metal with a jazz sensibility from three insanely brilliant musicians.

Now after seeing them perform a proper set without fear of Johnny Law killing our buzz, love has given way to infatuation. I'm not the only one, either. Seemingly every musician on the undercard lined the sides of the stage to watch them do their thing. Day-Z also developed a bad case of Isaiah Mitchell. I had the pleasure of meeting the master at the merch table after I'd recovered from their set ("Don't look him directly in the eye and be sure to call him 'sir'" I warned Day-Z) where he sold me a shirt ("You should ask him to sleep in it and then give it to me" Day-Z suggested) and gave me a head's up on a live disc recorded during a European festival that's going to drop next month. Nice!

As a postscript, Day-Z was a little bent a few minutes later when she saw the cute hippy chick from Assemble Head cozy up to Mitchell at the merch table. She had some less-than-kind words for hippychick, but I offered that the pairing could have children that would end poverty, cure all disease and benevolently rule the utopia they'd create.

Co-headliner Witch wrapped things up, and they were a great outfit. Unfortunately, for them, it was now midnight and I was getting pretty rocked out and hungry by this point. Also, Graveyard and Earthless are tough, tough acts to follow. But, I dug Witch's heavy, riffy sound enough to buy their CD and give them a listen when they have my undivided attention.

What a beautful, loud day it was, the remnants of which I got to enjoy for the next 36 hours, which is when the
constant ringing in my ears finally abated. Permanent hearing damage has never been so much fun.