Sir Finks: Carousel Lounge, August 18

Sir Finks

Carousel Lounge, August 18

Hyhyhyhyhyhyhyhyaaaa, wipeout! It certainly was. Just the sort of white-water crash the Surfaris documented in 1963 with their immortal surf call-to-arms "Wipe Out." Gone was drummer Damien Llanes, the Sir Finks' tastefully delicate precision, and the local surf trio's three-man lineup. Instead, there was a big new John Bonham-style basher, an alt.rock-inspired bombast, and a new guitarist-cum-singer-shouter. The band's trademark hearse was parked out front of the Eastside setup bar and watering hole -- same pink elephant in front of the stage -- same echo coming from Austin's instrumental honchos, but things were not the same. As the brown-baggers streamed into the Carousel on a busy Friday evening, the low-light L.A. hula-hut atmospherics were punctuated by the band's amp-bound spotlight. Up came the Sir Finks with their new, 16-ton diesel roar, and as if to amplify the group's transformation, out went the power. "Alright," muttered one of the band members, "time out." Yeah, big time out. Regrouping at a lower volume (hint, hint) and with even fewer bar lights, the Sir Finks were soon up and running again, but no less fast and furious. Shouting over the twin-guitar roar and Kodo drumming, the fourpiece's new frontman was all energy and leaps, but with new vocal numbers like the sophomoric "I'm Gonna Break Your Heart," it couldn't help but make one nostalgic for that breezy sound of old. Before, when letting the Sir Finks wash over you on, say, the outdoor deck at Central Market, there was a certain concern over where the then-trio might take their genre's one-dimensional sound. After all, where can one really take surf music? Dick Dale has been wading in the same tide pool for nearly 40 years now. SF's Mermen have been able to paddle out into the brine with Sonic Youth on their longboards, but surf music as a whole has been treading water since the Beach Boys were adolescents. The Sir Finks have no doubt taken a step forward, but in becoming a band better suited to Emo's than the Carousel, it seems they've simultaneously taken two steps back. The tsunami of sound evinced in the band's first 30-minute set displayed plenty of? & the Mysterians in its stripped-down twang, but the evening's longer second set could only be described as surf thrash. Or is that surf slam? When their smoke machine came on, it felt like the Carousel Lounge had been tear-gassed. Someone call the cops. We've been robbed.