February 27–March 6, 1997

critical mass|stone's soul picnic

Two Release Parties and a Funeral

The week that was in local rock.

By Neil Gladstone

Lately it seems like anything written about the local music scene is bound to be depressing: this band is breaking up, that nightclub is closed, so-and-so just got dropped from his label and will be hosting open mike nights until the Tuesday after forever. But are things quite that bad? City Paper's local music shelf has been brimming with new albums and just last week there were two record release parties by Philly bands. Is it time to break out the "Hooray for Philly Rock" cheer? No, but was it ever?

Before we ring in the new, let's mourn a little vehicular manslaughter. Moped was pronounced officially dead shortly after midnight on Friday, Feb. 21, at The Balcony. Bassist Bob Vanstone took to the stage looking resplendent in a lipstick red and navy blue floral print dress. Drummer/guitarist Bret Tobias gave an inspired eulogy: "Thanks a lot for all of you coming out. Of course if you'd come out before like this, this probably wouldn't have happened." In between plenty of drunken shenanigans, the trio stumbled through a set of sloppy and fun Superchunky tunes that should have made 'em local demigods. The ceremonial smashing of the guitar was left to Vanstone, who obliterated a Fender Telecaster so thoroughly, even Pete Townshend would have been impressed.

Speaking of Townshend, you can find a bit of his group's influence in The Photon Band, who played the next night at The Balcony. Led by ex-Uptown Bone/ex-Lily Art DiFuria, the music displayed an affection for The Who circa 1973 and Their Satanic Majesties Request-era Rolling Stones. Strummy and psychedelic folk tunes were beefed up and blissed out with sustained power chords and acid-rock leads. In days of yore, such elements would have probably been topped with flower-child harmonizing, but DiFuria opted for a dour and woebegone delivery, occasionally straining for melody. Though the vocalist admitted to being sick, the songs still were strong enough to make the band worth checking out when it's firing on all cylinders.

Rupert Speed, the featured act of the evening, was celebrating the release of their new CD, Ridin' the Pines (Compulsiv). Imagine if an Indy 500 pit crew decided to form a band: all testosterone, all the time. Their brand of bad ass metal-punk revs up on influences like ZZ Top and AC/DC and then turbocharges it, Amphetamine Reptile-style. Though their "waa-chuga-chuga, waa-chuga-chuga" riff rock occasionally came off sounding dated (it's not quite time for early '90s retro, is it?), the performance had enough "pedal to the metal" panache to put them in the winner's circle.

Photo by Adam Wallacavage.

Chris DiPinto and Jimmy Satan of Wastoid.

Just when it seemed like things couldn't possibly get more macho, in walks Wastoid wielding more chops than a forest full of lumberjacks. No need to worry if Van Halen III is going to pass muster with this gang around, 'cause they've got everything you're looking for in an '80s metal band: Flying V guitars, Spandex, a laser light show and more gratuitous leads than the editors of Guitar Player magazine will be able to transcribe in a year. Master axemen Chris DiPinto and Jimmy Satan entered the room soloing and never stopped. The songs, filled with the requisite devil references, brilliantly balanced tongue-in-cheek humor and diehard reverence for the genre. It's not quite as goofy as Spinal Tap, but it's more rockin' than Dokken.

On Saturday, Feb. 22, Upstairs At Nick's was more crowded than I've ever seen it to celebrate Holy Hand Grenade's new album, Smoked (Countdown/Unity). The band plays Beatles-by-way-of-Squeeze melodic power-pop that should find its way onto modern rock playlists without much trouble. The trio is competent and affable in a way that's easy to like, but hard to love. If they came on Y100 you probably wouldn't turn them off, but it's difficult to differentiate them from a host of other MTV bands. Four words, my friends: make a great video.

Turning from the happenings around town to a party-on platter, Tracey Lee's "The Theme: It's Party Time" (Universal) gets things thumping with a little help from a Schoolhouse Rock melody. But even though the refrain is instantly recognizable, producers Deric Angelettie and Ron Lawrence don't rely so heavily on the Gen X element that it turns into a De La Soul novelty track. The hint of braggadocio in Lee's tone adds an edge to this upbeat number, so it hopefully won't be labeled another Philly "happy-rap" single. Lee is currently putting the finishing touches on an album due out in April, just in time to get the block party beat boxes cranking.

As long as we're on the subject of all things kickin', D.O.D./The Situation has a new tape out, Price of Fame. Things get started with a noodling jazz piano and group members rambling on about how they never get played on the radio. On the title track, rappers Jamal Faulkner and Kenyatta Muhammad lay down rhymes about gritty street life without the gangsta attitude. A bouncy jazz guitar and female soul vocalist comprise most of the backing track. Though D.O.D./The Situation shows a lot of promise here — covering a similar ground as The Roots' last joint, illadelph halflife — the tracks lack the complex arrangements and punchy refrains necessary to make their tunes great.

Now's time for Philly old-school punk rock corner. This week's installment features Zonic Shockum's new self-titled album. Having caught Zonic live several times over the years at shows with abysmal sound systems, I can safely say that they fulfill their promise best on record. Vocalist Debbie Polak, occasionally reminiscent of Royal Trux's Jennifer Herrema, fares well here because she doesn't have to struggle to be heard over a din of distorted guitars. Many tunes will bring you back to those sweaty, punk-rock warehouse parties, but plenty of them also show that Zonic has added some depth to their chunky, "1-2-3-4" stylings. The quartet thrives nicely with the biker/acid rock of "Dirty Old Car" and even shows a little vulnerability on the strummy "Marcsong." For the most part, Zonic Shockum is good ol' Philly punk rock. Turn it up and kick some azz.

As long as we're talking about local rock that rawks, we shouldn't overlook Anthrophobia's latest offering, Pulse (Oxygen). The riffs are pretty much Monster Magnet-style metal without the dry sense of humor. However, the overall sound quality is exemplary. Produced by Joe Mattis and Anthrophobia and mixed by Phil Nicolo, the guitars are thick and tight and the drums woody and crisp. If you're a metal band who can afford this production team, do it.

What better way to take a break from all that Tractor Pull tonnage than with Paris Hampton. The former Philadelphian, now living in New York, recently released her self-titled debut on 60-Cycle/Yipe! records. Sure, her bubblicious songs sometimes make you feel like you should be watching Beverly Hills 90210, but most of the album manages to be modern rock at its most memorable. "I am more of a man than you will ever be," coos Hampton in "Venus in Furs" with a pristine sweetness. Guitarist Tim Bright (whose credits include work with Lisa Loeb) wings off glistening hooks one after another. For better or worse, this is the kind of high quality pop you'd expect from a larger label.

Just one upcoming show worth mentioning: Emily Valentine will be playing with the Rolling Hayseeds on Friday, Feb. 28, at the Pontiac Grille. Valentine features former members of Napalm Sunday and Bag of Hammers and rocks out with a kind of mid-'80s earnestness that recalls Elvis Costello and Joe Jackson. And if you're still depressed about the scene, go cry in your beer while the Hayseeds croon out a few twangers.