teenage riot

This evening, I had a two-hour smile plastered on my face by three Japanese women. It's not as dirty as it sounds, or as dirty as I'd like it to be. It's not dirty at all, actually; I got to see Shonen Knife in concert at a tiny bar just south of here.

The evening didn't get on to the best of starts, though. I even got to interview the band--though only Naoko Yamano did all the talking--in a tiny boiler room in the back of the venue. It was like sitting in a steam cooker. I sat on a cannister of high pressure gas as I sweated through my questions and tried to bridge the culture gap. It wasn't easy, and I was kind of disappointed with how it turned out. I've done plenty better. I never was able to get the connection that I'm able to dig up sometimes, and found it hard to get my footing. I could blame being rushed, or that the machines that kept the bar running were chortling and making noise, or that I had an audience, which never sits well with me, but I'd just be making excuses. I could have done a better job. Still, as we got into it, I was able to get some good stuff out of Naoko--hopefully enough for something short and sweet. As we started to get into it, the opening band kicked in and the noise in the room became deafening. Then I was not only battling the language barrier but the noise. We went through a couple more questions bowing close to each other at the table before I cut it off.

I was kinda bummed. A grittier, more sexed up girl punk band took the stage first, and they were all well and good--dressed up in scandalous china-doll dresses and fishnet stockings. I listened to a couple songs, but their levels were kind of off, and they just sounded pretty green. I retreated to the bar for a Guinness and was pleased that they sounded better from the back of the venue. Still, they never really rose above background noise.



But seeing Shonen Knife was enough to turn the bust of an evening into something special. It's rare to get a chance to see a band that good and that pro that up close. They've been at it for over 20 years, and it really showed. They were so crisp and clean; they made it look so easy. But the coolest thing was, it really was that simple--loud, fast, fun, catchy. Their songs are about jelly beans, chocolate and rubber bands, but they could've sang about skinning puppies and I still would have walked out of there with a toothache. Naoko and her sister Atsuko were super energetic and genuine, and their touring drummer, Etsuko Nakanashi, who must have been half their age, blurred into a frenzy of wildly flailng pigtails. The turn out wasn't very big, but it was a decent size, and everyone on the floor was into it, huddling close to the stage and in a state of permanent bounce. People, many of whom were aging scenesters like myself, howled and raised the hand sign of rock. My inner grump cowered before the power of Shonen Knife. The euphoria didn't wear off until well into the long, desolate drive home, and on the dark state highways of rural California, I remembered what a mopey sack of negativity I am.