Rock Shows of Note XLVIII
After meeting up with Cory last night -- and persuading him that he should at least check out a little of Scrapple's Christmas show, we hopped on the T and headed to Bay Village. I haven't been to Jacque's since the Queens & Zines fest I helped organize in 1997 when the folks behind Bunnyhop, Ben Is Dead, and Genetic Disorder hopped in an RV and traveled across the country. (I helped paint the basement, and I'm sad to report that they've since repainted it.) And I always have trouble finding it. True to form, Cory and I wandered around an eerily similar street corner a couple of blocks over from Jacque's before we were finally able to make our way to the space.

Upstairs, Jacque's is a drag bar. It's been an epicenter for Boston's queer community since before Stonewall, and just when you think that it and the neighborhood surrounding it would finally have figured out how to peacefully coexist, word is that people living in the area are pressuring the city and management yet again. Downstairs from the bar's stage area, in a smaller space, there are occasionally rock shows. Last night, it was the Scrapple Christmas show, a CD release party for Neptune, and a performance by New York-based Big Boote (pronounced "bootay").



First up, Big Boote, an energetic if somewhat sludgy four piece. Reminding me of a combination of Slot Machine and Double Dong, the band is fronted by a lanky, spastic singer who trades off well with the diminuitive guitarist. Lyrically, Big Boote leans toward potty jokes, but there were several interesting numbers. The duet children's song about the cow that went to the moon was awesome, and the songs in which the singer utilized various vocal styles, including falsetto, were quite interesting.

Then came Neptune. I've gone back and forth with Neptune, but last night I loved them. Yeah yeah yeah, scrap metal rock. Yeah yeah, we make our own instruments. Yeah. But last night the band opted for a less arty set and focused instead on a brash selection of their post-punk meets post-jazz Fugazi-like skronk. And the crowd responded quite well. Plenty of dancing and shaking going on as the front man held forth with dramatic flair. Brilliant! There were also more cute girls at this show than any show I've gone to in recent days. What's up with that?



Lastly, Scrapple. Oh, Scrapple and your brand of sexy popera. The Christmas show was an extravaganza indeed. The band opened with Chris and Lisa dressed in nightgowns, eagerly greeting Dave's sleazy Santa. Jef and Chris (a different Chris, lest you be confused) held forth as gangster rap-styled hoodlum reindoors. And the music rocked. Combining bluesy rock with faster almost-punk bits and musical-styled stage theatrics, this was a great way to continue to count down to Christmas. Fun!