The opening band. It\’s like musical Russian Roulette.
You\’ve come to see the headliner. This band is just the band in the way of that. Nine times out of 10, you aren\’t going to be impressed.
Last night, I saw Dinosaur Jr. at the Variety Playhouse in Atlanta with my son. Opening act was a band called Easy Action. Never heard of \’em.
Google described them as a \”glam metal band from Sweden.\” We kind of laughed as we imagined what that would sound like.
When the band started filtering out onto the stage, I thought they were sound techs. They seemed to be fiddling around. The bassist was older, sleeved in tattoos, long white hair, long white beard that was tied and knotted at the end.
The guitarist was bald, handlebar mustache, dressed like a mechanic in white t-shirt, pair of Dickies and boots. The drummer was younger, but looked like a guy you would meet at the comic store for a D&D campaign.
A tall, lean guy saunters on stage. He looks like Nick Cave. He\’s in his mid-to-late 50s, hair thinning, the years etched on his face. But his CONFIDENCE!
He walks on carrying a mic like he\’s in charge, staring at the crowd like he\’s waiting for US to impress HIM.
He stops and glares at all of us for what feels like a LONG time. Then he says, \”Check it out, man, we\’re Easy Action.\” As if on cue, the music immediately explodes from the amps.
Guitarist plays the entire set with his back to us. Bassist is flinging his hair. The riffs are fast, punishing. This isn\’t glam metal. This is maximum rock \’n roll. This is the MC5! This is the Ramones!
And the singer is still staring at me. He\’s leaning forward now.
He jerks the mic up to his mouth and howls. His voice is blistering, like he\’s shredding his vocal chords, but with melody, in tune. Every phrase he jerks the mic into his mouth, lets it fall to his side again, and shakes it like he\’s thinking about punching you in the face.
The crowd was skeptical, but you can hear him winning them over. They shout louder, hands are up now.
He doesn\’t smile. He stares them down. I see him whisper, \”Come on, man.\” I don\’t know who he\’s talking to, but I imagine he\’s talking to me. I find myself dancing harder.
I can feel myself smiling now. Pure elation. After another song, I say to the guy next to me, \”It\’s like Nick Cave and the Jesus Lizard had a baby and made THIS guy.\” He doesn\’t acknowledge me. It doesn\’t matter, though.
They blaze through a 45-minute set. The crowd bursts with shouts, applause. Singer says, \”Thanks, you guys.\” He doesn\’t smile, but he means it. He walks off, mic in hand.
Mascis, Barlow, Murph play (LOUD) the hits, deep cuts. Some Sebadoh?
Now it\’s time for the encore.
Last song: J speaks for the first time all night. \”Let\’s welcome John Brannon out here.\” John Brannon? Lead singer of Easy Action! He saunters out again, still carrying a mic, still staring down the crowd. This is going to be incredible.
It\’s even better than I imagine. Mascis launches into \”I Want to Be Your Dog\” by The Stooges. Brannon leans forward, glaring. He wants to make sure we know that he means every word. Where Iggy Pop sneers, Brannon screams in your face.
It\’s pandemonium. The kids are jumping, slamming into each other. NOBODY is standing still. Hair is flinging, arms in the air, everything is electric. Brannon just watches it happen, and occasionally nods his head as if he approves, but maybe it\’s not good enough just yet.
Each time Brannon screams, \”I…wanna…be your DOG!\” it\’s like he\’s trying to convince me even more. I believe him, and I scream it with him.
Before I know it, the song is over. The lights come up. The crowd is filing out. I feel elated and exhausted — alive.
My son and I file out a side exit and walk by the tour bus to the car. We hear conversations fading into crickets, night, shoes on pavement. In an alley behind the building, we see Brannon sitting alone on the bumper of a van, smoking a cigarette, staring at the ground.
I walk straight to him. Shake his hand. \”Man, you were incredible.\” I gush. I fumble for my words. He is all smiles and humility. So human. \”Wow,\” he says, \”thank you guys.\” We leave him as he was, contemplative. My son and I talk about him long after we leave.
I think about him this morning, too. I Google him and find I didn\’t see Easy Action the Swedish glam metal band. I saw Easy Action, Detroit band led by \”punk royalty\” John Brannon — lead singer of hardcore punk band Negative Approach, lead singer of garage rock band Laughing Hyenas, artists on the legendary Touch and Go record label out of Chicago.
He\’s been staring down crowds, howling into microphones and starting fights since I was running around in diapers.
I think back to him sitting on the bumper of the van. I imagine him processing decades of audiences — hardcore fans and disaffected bystanders, and how he\’s had to win them all, one by one — all the time wondering if and when rock \’n roll might become irrelevant.
He abandoned all else for music when he was young, and I wonder if he reevaluates that decision as an older man. Is it more difficult now? What is it like to make an indelible impression on someone — make them FEEL something! — and then walk back into a normal life?
Does he ever think about his legacy the way I obsess over mine?
I follow him on Twitter. His profile simply says, \”I didn\’t realize I\’d become the Francis Scott Key of Hardcore.\”
I get my answer, I think.
Here\’s to you, John Brannon. You seriously and thunderously rock.