(Photo by Tyler Callister)
Better Than: Staying up all night working at a gas station.
Download: A sexy video by one of the opening bands, Sex and Machines.
At most of the rock shows I’ve been to lately, the disco ball was just sitting there. Not spinning. It was just a little spherical emo boy hanging from the ceiling. But at the Rockit Room on Wednesday night, the disco ball was in full effect -- strutting, spinning, waltzing, tangoing, doing the cha-cha, doing the Charleston, doing the running man, and even grabbing its crotch like Michael Jackson.
Unfortunately, it was a Wednesday night, so the disco ball only had a handful of friends to dance with. Nonetheless, the Rockit Room was a classy venue with its almost-Asian rectangle lamps, subtle candles, and plush couches with a cool view of the street from the second floor.
Despite a very modest turnout, The Coma Lilies managed to take the unfettered minds on epic instrumental journeys with a diverse cast of characters. Sometimes it was a scary journey—like that one night you got lost in Golden Gate Park and got chased by a crazy vampire lady. Other times it was a silly journey—like that time you were on Market Street and that homeless guy let you try out his spaceship bicycle.
At their best, The Coma Lilies sound like Tool doing an interpretation of Prokofiev’s “Peter and the Wolf.” It’s pretty damn cool. Seriously.
The night’s mood was playful. The opening band, Trannysuarus Sex, sexed up the stage with catchy drum machine pop. Following them was the Santa Rosa band Sex and Machines who laid down a Mr. Bungle meets David Bowie sound.
About halfway through third band, Cult of Sue Todd, the sound tech chimed in through the monitors and told the band, “you guys have like twenty minutes left.” The band’s front man smiled and said, “Well shit, we’ve only got five minutes worth of songs left.”
And here’s what to take away from last night’s experience: there’s poetry in tiny local shows like this. This lovably self-deprecating nerd rock is refuge from a mostly vacuous service economy. That guy with the weird hair who waits your tables, or bags your groceries, or sells you beef jerky at the gas station food mart, this is what he does as soon as he gets off work on a Wednesday night. Hell, I think these modest little shows may be one of the only reasons to get up in the morning. Or… maybe it’s just rock n’ roll.
Critic's Notebook
Personal Bias: I’m a musician myself who grew up playing local shows.
Random Detail: Reasonable volumes and earplugs were in full force. I love the ear shattering rock, but it’s good to see the kids rocking safely.
By the way: The Rockit Room has more great shows to check out.
--Tyler Callister
