American Sharks, Flash Boys
Hotel Vegas, Jan. 3“The rest of this set is all instrumentals,” lied Flash Boys beacon Frankie Nowhere three songs in – before what felt like half of Austin’s population stuffed inside a closet. “My throat hurts.” Then the ex-Chump/Eastside Suicide went off again, howling another recidivist anthem, popping eyes and flashing feet like a River City Iggy Pop. With the dual guitar firepower of Darren Bond and moonlighting Bulemic Jason Kottwitz, the singer fronts this 7-year-old power-punk outfit’s strongest lineup yet. Speaking of double duty, meet Tear Dungeon: members of Sweet Spirit and A Giant Dog indulging in some loud, extremely distorted three-guitar riffing. Throw on blue latex Mil Máscaras masks and one severely creepy, near-immobile guitarist front and center and their 20 minutes hardly felt sufficient. Finally, American Sharks: a monstrous drummer who could be The Muppet Show‘s Animal, a guitarist with a tone like a giant bee, and a singing, bass-playing hair mountain who insists on the band’s tuning up the entire set. Somehow, that “soundcheck” retooled stoner rock into something with the energy and attack of the Damned. Behold the birth of stoner punk. American Sharks must be sprinkling Heisenberg’s finest on their chiba.
This article appears in January 9 • 2015.
