Got a Mouth Like an Alligator
Greetings and salutations.
The bad times continue. Writing this article couldn’t be any harder if I was typing with screwdrivers under my fingernails, and yet here we are. Recovering from one of the longest and most difficult weeks of my life, I wanted to throw myself into my work…alas, the computer monitor may have broken a rib when I landed on it. Ever the overachiever, this week’s review of Roanoke’s TK421 (because I’m too lazy to write out the roman numerals) is shined up and ready for your enjoyment…
In what was an otherwise generic Awful Arthur’s Friday night, I watched these guys blow the roof off like it was second nature – and the only reason I’m taking the time out of my depression to tell you about it is because they did it on their own. Yes, they played some pretty good covers (an Awful Arthur’s prerequisite), but that’s not why I’m writing. After all, I’ve an oath to “the brilliant, the gifted, the undiscovered,” not the reasonably popular and financially secure. So why give them the advertising space? Because as a band building their success on originality, they are a benchmark in the scene.
The sound is unmistakably modern rock. Their debut album “Hollow” and their recent follow-up “Disengaged” are ear-friendly slices of the kind of guitar music you’ve heard swimming around on the radio in the last few years. Thick walls of rich distortion fill the void around simplistic stomping rhythms and guttural bass to create catchy textbook anthems. Delectably different about the TK sound is the direction of the vocal melodies, which reach back into the snarl of blues and the passion of soul instead of just occupying the same melodramatic “minor keys are cool” space as their peers. It lends a sense of reality to the lyrics, draws you into the music, and gives distinguishing character to what would otherwise be a reasonably good impression of a successful national act.
From a performance perspective, I was impressed by the energy, the crowd interaction, and the general camaraderie – the difference between playing an instrument and functioning as entertainment. Not afraid of their roots in 80’s metal, they condensed the spectacle of bombastic arena rock into that 3’x6’ stage Arthur’s gives you and reveled in their own absurdity, to the delight of the crowd. Barring a few intoxicated efforts, this wasn’t a dancing night. It was a celebration of the over-the-top glory that made this all so much fun back in ’89. I counted each and every one of the 5 Great Rock Cliché’s:
5.) Drinking Onstage
Most musicians are assumed to drink, but for rock bands, it is completely necessary to advertise that you’re drunk (or on your way to getting drunk) and to make sure you take your shots in full view of the crowd. TK took it a step further with scheduled toasts throughout the performance.
4.) Lead Singer + Makeup
Whether it’s black eyeliner, lipstick, nail polish, or some horrible combination of the three, no show is complete until the lead singer feels pretty. The bass player can probably do with a tad less rouge, though…
3.) Ridiculous guitar tricks
Guitar solos are a self-indulgent staple of the craft. But playing behind your head, playing behind your back, tapping with a shoe, sliding with a beer bottle, making animals noises with your effects pedals, and picking with your teeth…now that’s a lost art…
2.) Essential Posing
For rock musicians, the live show is a ritual that involves many key movements designed to invoke the power of their gods. Drummers must spin sticks, and bass players must hump the air as a means to keep time. Even the easiest song to sing requires painful “from the heart” facial expressions and reaching out to the crowd with one hand as though longing to touch them. Mics have to be swung like whips, and arms must be outstretched to windmill around when strumming a chord on the guitar. You must point to the girl in the front row to make sure she sees you start your solo, and as you do, you must rest your leg against the monitor on the floor. Bending a string requires the eyes to be closed, and high notes cannot be plucked without sucking your lips in like a fish. The gods hath spoken…
1.) The Promise of Bad Behavior
It’s not enough that you get the feeling musicians are up to no good. They must tell you. Not in detail, of course. That wouldn’t be nearly as cool. But teasing the crowd with thin innuendos, vulgar eye contact, and lurid declarations of what might happen at the hotel later are as necessary as the band itself. Musicians aren’t able to talk to regular people for long periods of time without bringing up their music. Talking about how hard you party when you play in between the minutes, hours, and days that you aren’t playing is all they have to fill up the space. TK did not disappoint, and promised enough reckless 18yr old behavior to make you think it was ’89 again. You may know better now, but who cares?
If there’s a dividing line over liking or disliking this band, it probably has less to do with the music and more to do with what kind of party you enjoy. Many bands in town build their act around the idea of freezing a particular era in their lives and in the lives of their audience, effectively defying age for a night. At 35 going on 20, their crowd is more than willing to take a few more shots to forget they have a mortgage. On the other hand, watching TK is about understanding the place that these four men have arrived at in their lives, and not really giving a damn. The music that they’ve created is a reflection of a lifetime’s worth of experience and they’re unapologetic about how they got here. You know that these are the guys who’ll proudly display their Ratt posters and carry wallet-sized photos of their senior picture just to brag about their mullets. If you heard “We're Not Gonna Take It” as a message to your generation, TK invites you to put one fist up and salute.
That’s all for this week. I’ll be all over the place in the next few days, so there’s no telling how long the next column may be, but at least the Band B**** won’t wonder if I’m stalking her. Again, thanks to everybody for the emails, and for everyone who’s keeping me up to date on what they’re doing. I’ll get there eventually. And if I don’t…well, just wait longer. Until next we meet…
- The Phantom
The bad times continue. Writing this article couldn’t be any harder if I was typing with screwdrivers under my fingernails, and yet here we are. Recovering from one of the longest and most difficult weeks of my life, I wanted to throw myself into my work…alas, the computer monitor may have broken a rib when I landed on it. Ever the overachiever, this week’s review of Roanoke’s TK421 (because I’m too lazy to write out the roman numerals) is shined up and ready for your enjoyment…
In what was an otherwise generic Awful Arthur’s Friday night, I watched these guys blow the roof off like it was second nature – and the only reason I’m taking the time out of my depression to tell you about it is because they did it on their own. Yes, they played some pretty good covers (an Awful Arthur’s prerequisite), but that’s not why I’m writing. After all, I’ve an oath to “the brilliant, the gifted, the undiscovered,” not the reasonably popular and financially secure. So why give them the advertising space? Because as a band building their success on originality, they are a benchmark in the scene.
The sound is unmistakably modern rock. Their debut album “Hollow” and their recent follow-up “Disengaged” are ear-friendly slices of the kind of guitar music you’ve heard swimming around on the radio in the last few years. Thick walls of rich distortion fill the void around simplistic stomping rhythms and guttural bass to create catchy textbook anthems. Delectably different about the TK sound is the direction of the vocal melodies, which reach back into the snarl of blues and the passion of soul instead of just occupying the same melodramatic “minor keys are cool” space as their peers. It lends a sense of reality to the lyrics, draws you into the music, and gives distinguishing character to what would otherwise be a reasonably good impression of a successful national act.
From a performance perspective, I was impressed by the energy, the crowd interaction, and the general camaraderie – the difference between playing an instrument and functioning as entertainment. Not afraid of their roots in 80’s metal, they condensed the spectacle of bombastic arena rock into that 3’x6’ stage Arthur’s gives you and reveled in their own absurdity, to the delight of the crowd. Barring a few intoxicated efforts, this wasn’t a dancing night. It was a celebration of the over-the-top glory that made this all so much fun back in ’89. I counted each and every one of the 5 Great Rock Cliché’s:
5.) Drinking Onstage
Most musicians are assumed to drink, but for rock bands, it is completely necessary to advertise that you’re drunk (or on your way to getting drunk) and to make sure you take your shots in full view of the crowd. TK took it a step further with scheduled toasts throughout the performance.
4.) Lead Singer + Makeup
Whether it’s black eyeliner, lipstick, nail polish, or some horrible combination of the three, no show is complete until the lead singer feels pretty. The bass player can probably do with a tad less rouge, though…
3.) Ridiculous guitar tricks
Guitar solos are a self-indulgent staple of the craft. But playing behind your head, playing behind your back, tapping with a shoe, sliding with a beer bottle, making animals noises with your effects pedals, and picking with your teeth…now that’s a lost art…
2.) Essential Posing
For rock musicians, the live show is a ritual that involves many key movements designed to invoke the power of their gods. Drummers must spin sticks, and bass players must hump the air as a means to keep time. Even the easiest song to sing requires painful “from the heart” facial expressions and reaching out to the crowd with one hand as though longing to touch them. Mics have to be swung like whips, and arms must be outstretched to windmill around when strumming a chord on the guitar. You must point to the girl in the front row to make sure she sees you start your solo, and as you do, you must rest your leg against the monitor on the floor. Bending a string requires the eyes to be closed, and high notes cannot be plucked without sucking your lips in like a fish. The gods hath spoken…
1.) The Promise of Bad Behavior
It’s not enough that you get the feeling musicians are up to no good. They must tell you. Not in detail, of course. That wouldn’t be nearly as cool. But teasing the crowd with thin innuendos, vulgar eye contact, and lurid declarations of what might happen at the hotel later are as necessary as the band itself. Musicians aren’t able to talk to regular people for long periods of time without bringing up their music. Talking about how hard you party when you play in between the minutes, hours, and days that you aren’t playing is all they have to fill up the space. TK did not disappoint, and promised enough reckless 18yr old behavior to make you think it was ’89 again. You may know better now, but who cares?
If there’s a dividing line over liking or disliking this band, it probably has less to do with the music and more to do with what kind of party you enjoy. Many bands in town build their act around the idea of freezing a particular era in their lives and in the lives of their audience, effectively defying age for a night. At 35 going on 20, their crowd is more than willing to take a few more shots to forget they have a mortgage. On the other hand, watching TK is about understanding the place that these four men have arrived at in their lives, and not really giving a damn. The music that they’ve created is a reflection of a lifetime’s worth of experience and they’re unapologetic about how they got here. You know that these are the guys who’ll proudly display their Ratt posters and carry wallet-sized photos of their senior picture just to brag about their mullets. If you heard “We're Not Gonna Take It” as a message to your generation, TK invites you to put one fist up and salute.
That’s all for this week. I’ll be all over the place in the next few days, so there’s no telling how long the next column may be, but at least the Band B**** won’t wonder if I’m stalking her. Again, thanks to everybody for the emails, and for everyone who’s keeping me up to date on what they’re doing. I’ll get there eventually. And if I don’t…well, just wait longer. Until next we meet…
- The Phantom
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