Concert #13: Heavy Trash @ Club Hell

I showed up last night just in time to catch openers The Cobra-Matics, a straight-a-head rockabilly group from Providence.  The highlight of their performance came when the Heavy Trash stand-up bassist came out and raged out a jaw-dropping guitar solo.  Overall, The Cobra-Matics were tight and true to their rockabilly throwback style.  Nothing out-of-the-box, though.  That would be saved for later on.

During the intermission I noticed I was the youngest person in the crowd by around 8-1o years.  Either I was the least hip person in the room or I am already an aging hipster.  Leaning towards the latter.

Big ups to the guy in the New Bomb Turks shirt!  I wish you had been more talkative and less “fucked up.”  His words, not mine.

Anyways, Jon Spencer, Heavy Trash lead singer and minor rock God, has charisma spurting from his pores.  The magnetism he exhibits naturally creates his slicked back hair-do.  John Spencer doesn’t need hair gel.  He is that bad-ass.

The dude puts forth so much energy in his performance I could hardly believe he was still standing after a full hour into the set.  He played roughly an hour and fifteen minutes, barreling his four-piece crew through psycho-billy cuts from all three of the Heavy Trash records.  They didn’t stop playing, ever.

OK, they stopped once: Jon Spencer peed once, during the encore break.

My favorite part of the night was the last song before their encore break.  Heavy Trash dove into the psychedelia of their personality, building up a song into a weird, mentally crippling frenzy, and eventually creating an explosion of epic proportions.

I could’ve left then, satisfied that I basked in the glory of Jon Spencer.  Nope.  He was not done.  Heavy Trash came out to play another five or six tracks, before I had to leave to hunt down some late night snacks.

Please check out Heavy Trash, The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, or Pussy Galore:

One response to “Concert #13: Heavy Trash @ Club Hell

  1. Jon Spencer has always been the best of showmen: satisfaction guaranteed at live shows with encore galore … pity the Blues Explosion ran out of mileage and ironically imploded.
    Pussy Galore? A much underestimated sound collective, the residues of whom went on to entertain many in the 1990s.

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