Pleasureboaters
Gross
Don't Stop Believin'
By Jose Fritz
I went online to begin my research of Pleasureboaters and found hundreds of pictures. They’re young, and the lighting is bad, and the rooms are all crowded. But I noticed that beyond the pixilation and lighting, universally the shots are blurry. All the photos are blurry because the band never stops moving as shoes fly off, matted hair flips around, eyes dart side to side; the bodies and all their parts in constant spastic motion. It was the best news I’d had in weeks.
Somewhere in Seattle the dream is still alive. The singers still leap from the drum sets over the security gates into the flailing and open arms of the crowd. Guitarists thrash across the stage alternately brandishing power chords and feedback, blowing speakers and reducing PA’s into cinders. Drummers still bludgeon like gamey, sweat-soaked pack animals. The girls scream and if the floor is not sticky with sweat, somebody will draw blood until it is. Punk rock power trios decimate the stage, and the dream is still alive in Seattle because the Pleasureboaters are alive and well.
The only imperfection is that these are classically trained musicians. These three art-punks (Tim, Erik and Ricky,) are music nerds that two years ago were playing Bach, Mozart and Mussorgsky. Strange that now they sound more like Fugazi and These Arms Are Snakes. The album Gross strains under its varied collection of freshman inspirations. It collects Mclusky, Drive like Jehu, and the Blood Brothers. It’s all in there somehow.
But now we must reconcile the idea that this might all deliberate. These are formally trained musicians and that they have rejected all their training. That’s real rebellion. The genuine punk aesthetic isn’t just self-reliance it’s self determination. So, not content with snubbing Beethoven, they’ve just completed a short west coast tour. Next the tour van heads across the Midwest for a short spring tour including Tulsa, Salt Lake City, Albuquerque and Ft. Worth.
It’s like the first time I saw The Liars at the Mercury Lounge back when they wrote songs and knew how to maintain a blistering 45 minute set. They had a quality that commanded your attention. The same is true here. I stand in the wake of so much potential that I could scarcely grasp what they are capable of.
|
