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Heather Golder

The Black Lips, famous for wild stage antics and a punk-heavy blend of rock genres, played Amoeba on July 13th.  Despite their good behavior (no puke, no pee, minimal spit), their performance entertained not only the fans who showed up early for spots near the stage, but also the other shoppers who found themselves stopped in the far aisles and pulled in by a compelling blend of sounds.  By the time the band took their final bows and Jared flashed the taped-on "thanx" on his bass to the crowd, people filled 10 aisles back and two over, with even more applauding from the far reaches of the store.

In a nearly dozen-song set, the band demonstrated why they draw attention from far beyond punk aficionados. Though the majority of the vocals have the energy of modern and classic punk (thanks to the hilarious and well-mustached Cole Alexander, who also plays guitar), the music that accompanies them ranges from surfer-tinged twang to psychedelic sincerity, tambourine included.  It's the British invasion after a long trip to the Summer of Love played by a Georgia garage band--what the Black Lips mean when they describe themselves as "flower punk."  Joe Bradley drums with fury and precision and brings the same energy to his vocals.  Ian St. Pe, on the guitar, has an amazing stage presence (it's hard not to love his occasional vigorous head shaking when the band is really rocking) and adds a complex serpentine edge to the more psychedelic elements of the band's sound.  Jared Swilley provides a unifying solidity with his bass and vocals, not to mention a fearsome mustache that could rival the facial hair of any prime-time television star from the 70's.

"Authentic" is how many reviewers describe the Black Lips, which makes them sound serious and even a little naive--these guys are anything but.  They are playing without pretense, rocking in a way that feels right regardless of how a young punk band should sound or act.  Punk bands aren't supposed to reference 60's doo-wop grooves? Too late.  Southern garage bands shouldn't try to take on the trippy guitars of the 70's?  Well, they have, and in a way that doesn't feel dated or copied.  Oh, and when I say garage band, I'm not talking about the one that my neighborhood had, five guys playing endless covers of four songs they half knew and sometimes knocking over the drum kit.  This is the garage band I wish we'd had:  four skilled musicians, still soaked in the sweat and energy and enthusiasm of actually getting to do what they enjoy.