I crashed on into this gig after a hop and a skip from the James Blunt show. Pretty polar opposite! What I walked in on was the middle of the Black Lips set. Total freaky, chaotic noise and dim slippery visuals projected on them from somewhere at the back of the room. Yet somehow, that flip-flopped back and forth between songs that were almost surf-pop in nature. Aside from the most trashed bass drum I have ever seen, the most exciting thing on stage was the band’s tiny singer. Sporting a fat moustache and worn clothing, he kicked out his mic stand and yanked it back to himself, did backwards somersaults on the floor and spat beer all over the place while playing. This action managed to give him some ongoing guitar strap problems but he figured it out eventually. Near the end of the set, he launched one more fountain of beer out of his mouth, which landed on me a lot. Black Lips ruined my camera and now I stink like beer. Ew.

Following that madness, was yet more madness! The Dirtbombs are an eclectic bunch, poppy and edgy at once. They have a singer who looks and kind of sound like Barry White, a snazzy Asian bass gal, two drummers, the lead of which is insane, and yes, another bass player as well. Insane! Madness! Furthering his Barry White-itude, the singer expressed lines like, “This one’s for the ladies…” Sweat flew, the female bass player did uncountable odd moves with her hand, and the lead drummer that blew my mind used a cymbal on one of his toms as added percussion from time to time. The crowd was going completely mad for this, causing a riotous mosh pit in the middle of the Richards floor. At one point in the set, a pint glass went sailing far overhead and exploded against the brick wall above the stage. Nothing but sheer chaos… melodic chaos, but chaos nonetheless. Go Dirtbombs!

Elsewhere

By Andy Scheffler
Photos : Andy Scheffler
Published : April, 2006.