WOLFMOTHER + Psychic Ills @ Le National

By K-Man - 05/30/2006

I find myself back at Le National, a dusty old theatre in the east end of the city. Strangely enough, it's raining -- just like the first/last time I was here. This venue has refreshingly fairly priced refreshments... say that ten times without fucking it up and I'll give you money. Psychic Ills just got off the stage and judging by the reaction of this eclectic iPod-inspired audience, they didn't suck. I actually noticed that their merch table was busy as hell, even after the whole spectacle ended. What can I say, I missed the opening band... again.

The latest Aussie export Wolfmother (great name) opened their show with that tune from the iPod commercial, "Dimension". A good tune; the singer sounds like Ozzy (and Tommy Shaw but we'll get to that in a second) and the arrangement of the song is highly Sabbathesque. Many of their songs were. The singer, Andrew Stockdale, is a 20-year-old 70's guy keepin' it real. Pulling no less than all of Freddy Mercury's moves, most of Phil Lynott's, a couple of Jim Morrison's, a few Paul Stanley's, a Nadia Comaneci and some totally hilarious ones of his own, it was hard not to laugh. Keep in mind though, he's also playing the only guitar in this trio and his soloing is solid.

And we laughed, until they rolled into what I thought at first to be a cover of that glass-exploding, scrotum-shriveling song from Styx, "Lorelei". I almost literally had to beat the shit out of someone -- randomly, of course. That guitar player listened to Styx... way... too... much. Personally, any Styx is too much Styx, but let's not get catty.

Playing bass, Chris Ross... a bit of a phenom. I'm not just saying that because he plays the exact same bass as I sometimes do (a'76 Rick 4001 series), but the dude was pulling a Geddy Lee and playing Greg Lake (E.L.P. for those of you who suck) -like riffs on an organ while playing his bass... simultaniously here, people... I'm not making this up... I mean come on, that's something.

Myles Haskett, their drummer on the other side of things, hit like a wee child. The drums were heavily mic'ed to no avail. You still had a hard time dealing with his weak attack. I've heard children make more noise folding origami. Every song ended with a three-minute outro where buddy would stand in front of the drum riser lights, back to the crowd, looking up at some invisible entity and pose the ever-burning Rock 'n Roll question "are you there, God? It's me, stupid" again and again. Honestly, we were in stiches the whole night through.

Season this band with another couple of years of playing, another recording, a few back injuries, drug issues, some life trauma and I think they'll evolve into something less derivative of their musical heros and stand out on their very own (like real men). In a nutshell, they sound like Jack White meets Atomic Bitchwax meets Sabbath meets Bill Gates meets Deep Purple meets Styx. Take that as you will. I was definitely entertained by a hilarious yet tight and retro-heavy 80-minute set. Check 'em out. Good driving music.

[Tune in to "Beyond That Graveyard III" every Friday from 9:00pm to Midnight.]