XL REVIEWS

Scratch Acid rekindles manic '80s fire

Plus: Austin Symphony with Joshua Bell, Riverboat Gamblers

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Punk

SCRATCH ACID DIGS DEEP TO REKINDLE THAT '80s MAGIC

It's been nearly 20 years since the legendary Austin band Scratch Acid played a show. Twenty years since singer David Yow, guitarist Brett Bradford, drummer Rey Washam and bassist David William Sims took the stage together. The band's sold-out performance at Emo's Saturday night was something the audience simply never thought it would see.

It would be rude to say the band played as if no time had passed, because it has. Yow and Sims spent 10 years in the Jesus Lizard as one of the best live bands of the 1990s, Bradford and Washam on various projects. (Besides, I wasn't there in '87.)

But as one pal put it, the show was better than it had any right to be. After a tight set from the Austin noise octet Gorch Fock (which covers a Scratch Acid song on its excellent new album "Thrilller") (yes, three "L's."), the packed crowd jostled for space.

Suddenly there was Scratch flipping Acid, looking more than a little nervous. Less than 100 hours of rehearsal time versus 20 years. You do the math.

But by the third song or so, it seemed to dawn on the guys that they weren't going to choke. Everything locked into place. Bradford's spidery riffs crawled and scurried. Washam, still a stunning drummer, and Sims, still menacing, poured a heavy, shifting foundation. And even at 46 years of age and more than six years from regular time in a band, Yow remains one of the finest frontmen of his generation: shirtless, howling, sweating through his jeans, cracking jokes ("So what have you been doing the past 20 years? I know in Austin that's a rhetorical question. 'Oh, nothing — same old, same old.' ") and giving his all to the band's noise-noirs. Songs such as "This Is Bliss," "She Said," "Crazy Dan" and the rolling "Cannibal" were waves of mutilation surging into the thrilled (two L's) crowd. What a blast. —Joe Gross

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Classical music

BELL RINGS IN EXUBERANT START FOR AUSTIN SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA

The first of what promises to be three epochal Austin performing arts seasons opened with a vitalizing concert by superstar violinist Joshua Bell and the Austin Symphony Orchestra.

This season likely will be remembered for its constriction, as major indigenous arts groups squeeze their shows into the Bass Concert Hall space, while the University of Texas Performing Arts Center books a hurried run of money-making touring musicals, on top of its international and pop series. Come spring, Bass closes for almost two years of renovation, so let's call this season "Exodus."

After that, the big companies will play all over the place, wandering from one improvised space to another, for an extended "Wilderness," before opening the doors on the Long Center for the Performing Arts and the refurbished Bass for a season one hopes will be dubbed "Renewal." (Meanwhile, the Paramount Theatre, State Theatre and Hogg Auditorium await much-needed upgrading.)

From the evidence of Friday's performance, the smart Austin groups will attempt to deepen impressions with audiences before exiting into "Wilderness." For a high-strung opener, the orchestra attempted William Schuman's Copland-esque 1939 American Festival Overture, sounding high-impact during the brilliant, percussive sections and viola-animated subdued parts, less so during the intervening, luxurious eruptions.

Bell glided onto stage as if his teen-idol looks would last forever. The ensemble, however, introduced his Beethoven Violin Concerto with a merely steady, not stately commencement. Bell's Stradivarius broke into the dry, late classical structure with early Romantic personality. The music didn't so much possess Bell as visibly inebriate him, as if piercing his heart while shuttering his eyes, swaying his form.

Like a multifaceted geode inside a sturdy shell, Bell showcased dazzling skills, producing sheets of simultaneous notes, shaping micro-passages within broad passages and, especially, making the cadenzas his own (which they are). The first time that the well-composed orchestra matched Bell's sensitivity was when the strings plucked tenderly to the milky melody during the Larghetto. Soloist and ensemble finally linked arms firmly during the romping Rondo, which bolted the audience to its feet at its finale.

The architecture of the subsequent Brahms Symphony No. 2 is, of course, flawless. Every note holds up another note. One could live inside this structure. Conductor Peter Bay understands the architecture, and each movement rose organically from the previous one. The cellos and violas provided the foundation, the violins the upright elements, the winds and percussion the decoration. I wish I could say that that the brass contributed to the construction, but they did not. If Austin Symphony plans to rock the roof off the Long Center, this must be fixed.

— Michael Barnes

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Rock

RIVERBOAT GAMBLERS MAKE THE MOST OF OPENING SPOT FOR X, ROLLINS

Henry Rollins and X are rightfully regarded as underground alt-rock legends, but it was homecoming kings the Riverboat Gamblers who held the winning hand Wednesday night at Stubb's.

Named one of Rolling Stone's top picks at South by Southwest 2006 and one of Spin magazine's Top 25 live bands (Top Five, the way I see it), the hyper-punk Gamblers had a respectable daylight crowd when they hit the deck at 7 p.m. in all their hard-charging, low-slung glory.

With no rafters to climb on the outdoor stage, cyclone singer Mike Wiebe stormed towers of speakers, climbed a second-story railing, ran across rooftops and stretched his microphone cord deep into the crowd, where he sang in people's faces and doled out hugs in a frantic display of affection.

"What's What," "Rattle Me Bones," "Still Not Dead Yet," "True Crime" and "Ice Water" received shout-along crowd responses that were matched with measured enthusiasm when Wiebe shared a story about dearly departed Austin club favorite "Handsome Joel" Svatek.

Much to the obvious delight of Gamblers guitarist Fadi el-Assad, X man John Doe joined the band for the final two songs. Simply put, written reviews will never do the Gamblers justice. Only seeing is believing.

Graying, but still fierce in his shirtless pit-bull stance, Henry Rollins started strong but quickly settled into a repetitive-sounding muscular throb. His grunting turned to ranting when Rollins acknowledged the one-year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina by bashing President Bush and praising Texans who offered shelter to strangers. Remembering better times, he later rattled off a list of underground Texas rock heroes, including the Big Boys, Butthole Surfers, Roky Erickson and others.

By comparison, X markedly picked up the pace with its seminal alt-punk sound. Like Rollins, frontwoman Exene Cervenka acknowledged Austin's storied punk past by dedicating "Los Angeles" to the Big Boys.

— David Glessner