Bruce Who?

I've said this before but I'll say it again - anytime I've ever been involved in anything you could really call a "local music scene," there was one constant - people in bands turned out in numbers to see other bands. It happened in Hoboken in 1980, ABC No Rio in 1990, it's a hallmark of NYC's Pop-Punk-Message-Board scene, and it's very much a part of what's going on in Asbury Park.

So it was heartening last night to see so many familiar faces at the release party for Rick Barry's new EP, "This Antediluvian World." There was Joe Harvard, Anthony Fiumano, Gordon Brown, as well as Val Emmich and Allie Moss (who sing on the record and added backup vocals onstage last night;) and a bunch of other local musicians whose faces I know, even if I don't their names. But it wasn't just band dudes who showed up - the Saint was packed, from the front of the stage all the way to the rear of the club, and pretty much for the entire night. Bravo.

And if you weren't there, well, you missed it. It seems like every time I see Rick and his band the New Rick Barrys, I leave saying it was the best Rick Barry show ever, and that was true again last night. Impeccably tight and beautifully nuanced, the band showcased about ten of Barry's intricate folk/rock compositions with a masterful command of dynamics, from whispered ballads to full-bore rockers. Guitarist Ron Haney (also of the Churchills) was nothing less than stunning, with his array of effects pedals and subtle use of ebow; he wrestled so many different sounds out of his guitar, it was like having a second synthesizer in the band.

The piece de resistance came at the end of the set, when Michael Ghegan (who tours with Justin Timberlake and Cirque du Soleil) came onstage for the epic rocker "All Of Your Mistakes Have Names," adding a very Clarence Clemons-like tenor sax that hammered home the message that we were indeed watching the future of Asbury Park. And he followed that on soprano sax with tender, mellifluous melody lines on Barry's brilliant metaphorical take on the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, "Atlantis."


The Frank Bressi Trio


The night opened with the official debut of The Frank Bressi Trio, a distinct departure from the post-pop-punk of Bressi's last band, the Chilling Details. With stand-up bass (both sonorously bowed and percussively picked) and twangy lap steel guitar, the trio gently rocked through a collection of tuneful country-flavored ballads that proved pleasantly and unexpectedly toe-tapping, especially given the absence of drums.


The Bloodsugars

The ostensible headliner, the Bloodsugars, came to Asbury from Brooklyn with a cheery, upbeat dance-pop sound reminiscent of 80's new-wave hitmakers like Wham! (and if you can believe me, I mean that in the nicest way possible.) Big smiles and layered synth fills propelled the group through an ingratiating and enjoyable set.

You can check out the photo set here.

Get Up And Dance (Or Not)

The Millionaires/Cash Cash - The Blender Theater, NYC - Feb. 3, 2009

Jersey Beat has tiptoed into the minefield of Emo Crunk before, and while it's not a place where I (as a fully vested grown-up) feel particularly comfortable, it's there. And we've always lived by the credo that anything the youth of America finds interesting is interesting, whether we like it or not.

And so you will find at JerseyBeat.com an interview with the NJ dance-pop-emo-crunk combo Cash Cash, and so I found myself at the Manhattan date of their current tour with potty-mouthed disco-pop divas The Millionaires tonight.

So let me explain this Emo Crunk thing, at least as I understand it. It's synthesizer-driven bubblegum dance-pop, performed by teenaged or barely post-adolescent males in very tight jeans. While Emo Crunk groups typically resemble turn-of-the-21st-century boybands - handpicked by some Lou Pearlman-like overlord for their model-pretty good looks - every group must have at least one chubby member and one guy with a ridiculously oversized afro. The scene has a very strict dress code, which includes headbands, Stay-Prest hair, flamboyant scarves, neon day-glo tee-shirts (preferably two sizes too small,) and the aforementioned skinny jeans; in short, it's the best thing to happen to effeminate teenage boys since roller disco. Teenage girls just a tad too old to admit still liking Hannah Montana and High School Musical figure heavily in the mix too.

Possibly because it had been snowing all day (or maybe just because it wasn't a particularly strong bill,) the Blender Theater was 3/4 empty when I arrived just before Cash Cash's set. True to form, the boys bounded onstage to chirpy background music and immediately started pogoing and throwing their arms in the air, just assuming that a tightly-knit throng of passionate fans would be doing the same below them. Tonight... not so much. Granted there were a few kids really into it (including about a dozen guys in full E-C regalia) but it was - for a band based in NJ and touring behind a brand-new album on a major label - a pretty tepid showing.

Again, maybe it was the weather.

Although Cash Cash has guitar and bass, 80% of its sound comes from Alex Makhlouf's giddy bubblegum synthesizer fills, with brother Jean Paul Makhlouf's high-pitched falsetto-heavy vocals carrying the rest of the load. It's all so saccharine-sweet and perky (typical song titles: "Sugar Rush," "Dynamite," "Electric Hearts,") the dancing cherubs from High School Musical seem like The Smiths in comparison. There was a bit of drama afoot since the band's bank of synths had apparently crapped out just before the show, but amazingly a necessary piece of electronics showed up just in time for the boys to plug in and perform their vocoder-saturated single "Party In Your Bedroom," which may just be the most obnoxious song ever recorded.

My anthropological curiosity satisfied, I hung around briefly to see a bit of The Millionaires (in all honesty, expecting a BritPop band along the lines of The Kooks or The Subways.) Wrong. The Millionaires turned out to be three lithesome and provocatively slutty young divas "dancing" and "singing" (and boy, are there quotation marks around that)disco/rap filled with four-letter words and sexual innuendo, backed by Garageband loops played by an equally provocative DJ. (Inspirational verse: "Just Got Paid, Let's Get Laid.") I commend you to their MySpace Page for a listen. You can't make this stuff up.