Standing around between bands during last night’s opening salvo of Gonerfest 20, I saw none other than Graham Burks walk by, decked out in headphones and other comm gear, toting a Sony Handycam. As part of a small army of camera operators making the Gonerfest 20 live stream happen, his exhilaration was contagious: he’d just shot an incendiary set by The Kids, who were clearly not phased by having to play borrowed instruments.
“You bastard!” sang front man Ludo Mariman on “Fascist Cops,” a prescient clarion call the Belgian band released in 1978. The band was hitting on all cylinders last night and conjured up that first wave of punk as if it were yesterday. And Burks, having been in the heart of the action as the band played, was glowing like he’d been playing along himself.
Such exhilaration was common among the camera crew. Another of the videographers, Kim Lloyd, had just finished her shift after shooting the French/Swiss band Jack of Heart, who had a similar old-school punk vibe, with echoes of hardcore but still loose enough to pull off a roaring cover of “You’re Out of Time” by the Rolling Stones. Though discharged from her duties for the rest of the night, Lloyd exclaimed “I don’t want to quit! What a rush!” It’s the next best thing to actually playing in a band at Gonerfest.
But when I saw Burks, it was obvious that he was not done, nor was the night. “The next band is going to be wild!” he exclaimed with a manic grin moving back to his post onstage. And he wasn’t lying: next up were Osees, aka Orinoka Crash Suite (1997–2003), OCS (2003–2005, 2017), Orange County Sound (2005), The Ohsees (2006), Thee Oh Sees (2006–2017), and Oh Sees (2017–2019). Their reputation as one of the most explosive bands of the last quarter century clearly preceded them, and they did not disappoint.
But they didn’t quite bring the frenzy from the start, opting to start their set with a sonic wash of noise until the beat kicked in with a vengeance. Featuring two drummers, bass, and synth/second guitar backing guitarist and lead singer John Dwyer, the band is a steamroller that blends punk, psychedelic post-punk, and even hints of guttural death metal. There were plenty of pogo-worthy moments, as the mosh pit made clear, but also slower, stop-time beats that allowed plenty of space for the guitar crunch to hang in the air.
Many flipped birds also hung in the air, as Dwyer saluted the crowd with them repeatedly, always receiving them in return with aplomb. “This one’s for you mom!” he shouted with a jeer, before stepping back and saying sincerely, “Seriously, this one goes out to your mother…”
But he also showed Memphis some love. “This one’s for the Oblivians!” he said before unleashing a volley of solo guitar noise. Apparently, the noise was a little off: he stopped mid-riff and announced “I fucked up!” before launching the tune again. Later he quipped, “We’re one and a half months into a tour…and we’re only getting worse!”
Not that he came off as the humble type. Indeed, Dwyer’s mix of bravado and self-disdain perfectly complemented the pounding machine of the band, who also sported some intricate arrangements and varied textures thanks to the telepathic interplay between Dwyer and synth wiz Tomas Dolas, even as the front phalanx of dual drummers (Paul Quattrone and Dan Rincon) and bass (Tim Hellman) propelled them onward. As it turned out, the Gonerfest program guide was not far off in noting what to expect: “Full mania. The biggest act of the fest!”
They were the capstone to an evening that began on a more local note with Memphis’ latest supergroup, Laundry Bats, led by erstwhile Manatees member Abe White “in inimitable Abe-Style,” as Goner’s guide notes. Singing his own songs and playing guitar, he was backed by an enviable collection of superfriends: Jack Oblivian on drums, Alicja Trout on guitar, and Greg Cartwright on bass. Together, they unleashed scratchy twin-guitar rock that harked back to the Golden Age of the Antenna Club. Though all are seasoned pros by now, they exuded a youthful enthusiasm, especially as Cartwright and Jack Oblivian locked down the rhythm. “I’ve never played bass in a band before,” noted Cartwright after their set. “It’s fun!”
Alien Nosejob, the solo project of Ausmuteants’ Jake Robertson, then brought a unique mix of pop-punk that chugged along like a locomotive covered in graffiti. By then the audience had filled in and the crowd surfing had begun. As the night progressed, that and the moshing would gain momentum in the zone in front of the stage, even as hundreds pushed in from the peripheries of Railgarten to get that much closer to the intoxicating sounds.
By the time Exbats took the stage, it appeared to be the most well-attended Gonerfest in history. The love Memphians have developed for this Arizona band since they appeared at Gonerfest 18 was palpable. Their perfectly minimalist ’60s pop songs by drummer Inez McLain, accompanied by her dad Kenny McLain on guitar, with the bassist and second guitarist chiming in “oohs” and “ahhs” in the background, was like a breath of fresh air. And this fresh air had hundreds of fans dancing and pressing ever-closer to the stage. In the slightly steamy evening, that was the whole night in a nutshell: an audience made up of superfans, hanging on every note, shaking, grinding, and slamming to the beat, thrilling to the freaky harmonies. Gonerfest 20 had begun.
