The Shys and Rock Kills Kid at Detroit Bar: February 22, 2007
We’re not in Michigan anymore! The Detroit Bar is far from it and sits subtly in the corner of a strip mall in Costa Mesa. You wouldn’t think from its location, other than being near Newport—the OC Heaven—that it was much more than some cocktail-serving dive bar for middle-aged surfers and social outcasts. However, the staff is amazing, and I have to thank Joe, the security guard, and Ken, the stage manager, for making our evening a spectacular one. I hadn’t been there in ages and had disappointedly missed the Cold War Kids’ shows there later last year. Even though I’d been there the Monday before to see Manic with the residency band, Venus Infers, it hadn’t prepared me for tonight’s crowd and show.
Let me preface by saying that I’m a huge fan of The Shys and they were basically the reason I came. Yea yea, Rock Kills Kid is the dream 80’s electronic Cure-sounding band with an infamously reclusive and prolific singer (who happens to be as gorgeous as he is reclusive). Before the show someone asked me, “So, what rock?” And I was like, “Huh?” And he laughed as if I was the moron to question such an intuitive thing, “You know, which kind of rock kills the kids?” It actually was a great question that made me appreciate the English language even more than I do! I didn’t know which rock. And damn if I didn’t ask when I had a chance. That’s the thing with bars with great waitresses (it was only her third day and she even had a price cheat sheet in her pocket) who are on the ball with your decent-priced drinks. On top of that was a drunken guy playing pool to win sex with his date (she wanted to go shopping if she won) who was handing my partners in crime and me drinks by the pool shot. This didn’t help my journalistic skills by the time I had a chance to ask anyone anything.
But before that point, I introduced my friends to rock. Yes, true rock and roll from The Shys. They aren’t your typical ’07 band, or ’06 band, or any band since the classic rock era. Perhaps other than a strong resemblance to some The Verve sounds, these guys rock closer to the Beatles, Cream, and Bad Company, rather than Depeche Mode, the Cure, and the Smiths. It’s refreshing to hear something root-based and true to the young band’s passion. For being 22-year-old San Clemente boys, they come off like veteran rockers, stealing the stage with presence and intensity. I told my friends they’d be blown away by the guitar penetration and the soulful voice of the lead singer. My girlfriend, who saw Kyle Krone (the lead singer and guitar player) outside before the set (as I forcefully drew her attention to my boy crush), said he seemed too fragile and tiny to pelt out the sounds I’d described to her. However, when she saw him perform, she was awed by the whole band’s aura. I couldn’t help but rub it in, especially when she later got a kiss on the cheek from him (um, yes, I was jealous). And it was so great to see the crowd singing along word for word to “Call in the Cavalry,” the anthem single off Astoria, their full-length album released in June 2006. “I woke up this morning, I think I need a kickstand . . . about a million miles an hour as I crash into the weekend.” I love blaring this song as I’m exercising or getting amped for an interview. The crowd loved it as well, as they jumped and power fisted to a couple songs off the album and many newer songs that I presume are for an upcoming EP. Even though I didn’t recognize many of the new songs, it was an experience to hear them live again. It’s like nothing else—seriously transporting you to another time when rock was hard and made you ache. I’d listen to it with my eyes closed if they weren’t so damn hot. Missing anything they do on stage wouldn’t be worth it, from Kyle climbing on the drums, to Chris Wulff’s (guitarist) “War Is Over (if you want it to be)” shirt. What’s even better is that they are down-to-earth guys—edgy, but without rock-star ego. Though the line up has changed a bit since I’d last see them, they seem to have a strong connection with each other. Chris was even kind enough to chat at the merch stand and write me out a setlist on a napkin. They are true to real rock and pioneers to a revival of Skynnard riffs and Clapton vocals.
To totally change musical direction, RKK came on as the headliner. At this point in the evening, I wasn’t in the mood to fight out-of-county hipsters or anyone in skinny jeans, black shirts, and angular dyed hair. Plus, the back pool area with its own fireplace was cozy and had a TV screen with the bands playing in fuzzy form. It was alright because I could hear their tunes from my pleather chair, and I could also drink without getting elbowed. This didn’t allow for photos or a true experience, but their music speaks for itself, from their popular “Paralyzed” to the oft-played OC Soundtrack hit, “Hideaway.” I don’t tend to get the comparisons to U2 (other than a riff in “Hideaway” that sounds almost identical to one from an Unforgettable Fire track) and the Cure, but I can see the 80’s synth influence. Jeff Tucker’s vocals sound more like Josh Homme (QOTSA) than Bono or Robert Smith, but the alienation in the lyrics pull out a combination of good tunes that are catchier than anything. I’ve had their album Are You Nervous? since it came out in 2006 and enjoy it for its fluidity and sweetness. Yea, how can songs about isolation and depression make for sweet songs? I can’t explain it, but “Back to Life” is my favorite song that seems to make me happy. Dance happy. You know, dance around the house in panties with a brush in hand? (You mean no one else does this?) Thank God I wasn’t doing that this night, but we did end up getting late-night doughnuts with part of the band. Nothing like a window open for doughnut consumption at 2 am—especially when you get a chocolate/coconut one shoved in your mouth by one of the band members (or one of his entourage).
It was an interesting music-filled night for the OC. Not LA, but the bands were rockin’ the Orange Curtain, if not tearing it down, on this Thursday night!
by Lysa Pavlith