Detroit houserockers The Gories are nothing short of legendary. It may not seem all too out of the ordinary for a band to make a name for themselves on an obscure international label and having raucous, high-energy live shows; however, the difference is that the Gories were doing it in the late 80’s where doing it yourself was your only option, and not an ethos.
Despite breaking up in 1992, their legend grew after signing to Crypt Records, who released their last album before re-releasing a package of their first two from the French New Rose label. They reunited in 2009, and have been touring Europe and America off-and-on ever since. And for all that renown that follows their name, they still play any venue, even the wonderful Bell House, like it is your off-campus apartment living room.
Read more of the rocking night after the jump
Brooklyn’s own Mighty Fine started off the night with their brilliant blend of James Brown soul and hard Stooges rock. Not in recent memory have I seen a band so impeccably dressed as Mighty Fine, who don some sharp neo-Mod style suits, and play ‘til they are dripping and pouring with sweat.
Lead singer Steve Myers is a whirlwind of smooth dance skills (which sometimes caused himself some frustration as the microphone often came unplugged and had to rely on bassist Paul V’s mic to catch up), and has an impeccably classic sounding voice that recalls Prince’s falsetto pleas and want-you-bad purrs.
Though a fairly short set list consisting mostly of tracks from their new album, the Mighty Fine pack such a punch in their big sound, all thanks to Uncle Mitro’s hard guitars backed against the soul-style electric keys, and (for some of the set) filled out even further with help from the horn section of the Slackers.
Any other band in Brooklyn take note: this is how a opener should act: own the show.
Mighty Fine certainly don’t overshadow the Gories or Mark Sultan by any means, but they take command and leave you begging, and it helps that even songs that were “for the ladies” (that classic line indicating that things might slow down a little bit) were still high-tempo, hip-shaking numbers that are impossible refrain from even shuffling your shoulders at the very least. Setting the mood for the rest of the night is one thing, but playing like you’re just as good as anyone else on the bill leaves a lasting impression. (Their latest, Get Up to Get Down is available now from Brooklyn’s Drug Front Records, and features vocals from the Gories’ Mick Collins, though he did not come out to help when Mighty Fine played them).
Mark Sultan, A.K.A., BBQ (yes, yes, that BBQ) came out unceremoniously, set himself up, and tore into his set. Anyone not familiar with Mark Sultan would have assumed that the stage tech just started playing a random one-man band set, in which he sped through a quick list of punk-infused R&B. As you can imagine, there isn’t much spectacle to watch in a one-man band, so it becomes fascinating to watch Mr. Sultan’s face when he performs – a range of colorful expressions from ‘passionate begging’ to ‘possessed by a devil,’ to ‘utterly bored and can’t wait to leave.’
How he transitions between songs without anyone to back him up becomes the only other aspect to watch with interest in his performance, as it usually consists of skronking the guitar into an extreme blast of noise, before, surprisingly, landing in a song that is slightly different from the previous tune.
The only song standing out was the last for the simple reasons that it was the only interaction he had with the audience – announcing this was his last song of the night, and flipping off someone in the audience who screamed ‘fuck yeah,’ and a Tecate can just missing Sultan’s head. But it was also the most brilliant of the songs, beginning with an impressive show of his range for R&B-style vocal balladry, ending in a brilliant scream of noise as he waved his guitar (loosely, by the neck, and held at a distance) up to his vintage amp, and let the distortion back him up. And he left, just as mysteriously as he came; the audience, satisfied, but with an air of missed expectations for something a little more intense.
After setting themselves up on stage, The Gories came out to wild applause and opened with the track that introduced them to the world way back in 1986, “Hey Hey, We’re the Gories.” The 26-year difference between then and now is already apparent – between those first records (and let’s be honest, they’re not very good records) and the time The Gories spent apart in different bands – as they are still noisy and wild, but much tighter in execution.
Sure, they still stop and check themselves every once in a while to make sure they’re still playing in the same key, but there’s some maturity in their performance, though anyone would think otherwise about a band that plays with shitty taped-together drum sets and guitars missing their backing plates. In a venue like the Bell House, which has one of the better sound crews of the venues in Brooklyn, even a band as notoriously messy as the Gories can still sound soulful as Mick Collins does on “You Make it Move,” or “Early in the Morning.”
Similarly, Dan Kroha’s voice, which has been criticized sometimes as being ‘too nasal,’ has matured somewhat, but still has a primal wail that was perfectly pitch for a sharp-as-nails cover of the Motown classic, “Leaving Here.” But the more complex songs, fun as they are, isn’t where the Gories shine best. Instead, stripped-to-the-basics rock songs like “Great Big Idol with the Golden Head” is where Mick takes lead, Dan can hone his guitar and respond in vocals, and Peg O’Neill can bash her floor tom, high tom, and tambourine and still give Scott Asheton a run for his money.
The Gories also do not engage the audience too often, nor do they engage in many theatrics, besides a few power crouches, that is, until the end of the show when they played a surprise double-encore. For the first time that evening, drummer Peg O’Neill smiled as Mick called on the crowd to help him out with their blazing cover of “Land of 1,000 Dances,” and even took a fan request (my own, actually) for their second to last song of the night, “Telepathic.” There were a few desperate pleas from the crowd for their version of Spinal Tap’s “Gimmie Some Money” and Earl King’s “Trick Bag,” which they dismissed both: “Man, we forgot how to play [those songs].”
It’s unknown whether the Gories will ever record an album together again; certainly these often-enough reunion shows give hardcore Gories fans hope. But seeing the Gories on stage, as long as the respective members have been beating and blasting hard garage sounds either together or apart, is a spectacle to behold in just how big and deep two guitars and quarter of a drum set can sound this far out from the heart of the Motor City.
