999 – Live In Los Angeles

This was one of the top ten shows I have ever seen in my life since I started going to live punk rock shows in 1981. (In case you were wondering, my first show was Suburban Lawns at The Whisky in Hollywood.) I laughed when I took out my notes to write this show review because my notebook is still wonderfully torn and wrinkled from all the pushing, shoving, dancing, sweating, and if cheering makes impressions on paper, I have it right here. First Street Pool & Billiards is located in East Los Angeles in a somewhat rough Mexican neighborhood. The venue was larger than I expected, with a medium-sized stage set back away from the pool and billiard tables. The sound system was excellent and the staff were friendly, helpful, and watchful. 

The Fiends were up first, and I really liked this band because they reminded me a lot of The Stitches, Clit 45 and GBH, but the music was original enough to be its own thing. It was extremely hard but melodic at the same time. This was some excellent tight thrash with good solos thrown in here and there, but not indulgent enough to be considered metal. The Fiends dished out good ol’ high-velocity street punk that set the pace for the rest of the evening. I did not get any of these guy’s names, but I can tell you they have a good stage presence, especially the vocalist, who moves about as if he was born onstage. A few young guys in the audience sporting the traditional skinhead look (Doc Martins, jeans, suspenders, white T-shirt) were thrashing about in joyful approval, and even though they were not always paying attention to where they were going, these skins were the friendly, non-racist variety, so we had nothing to fear but the occasional unintended collision.

Next was The Rails. No, we did not do any cocaine, but this band plays like they are amped on something. I am pretty sure they are high on their own musical ability and the fun they have while playing. Looking at my notes, I guess I am not too far from wrong, because I see they did a song called: “Cocaine, Booze, and the Right to Lose” which is also the name of the band’s EP. These guys were real punk rock vatos that churn out a wonderful wall of buzzing sound. I made myself laugh by thinking the vocalist/guitarist looked like a blending of Phil Lynott of Thin Lizzy and Cheech Marin of Cheech and Chong. He would sometimes point his guitar straight up like Phil used to do. The bass tone stood out to me because it reminded me of Surf Punks. The few slam dancers were still thrashing strong and they were joined by some guy in a Spider-Man costume who kept at it all night long without ever taking off his mask. Standout song: “I Don’t Want Your Love.” Good stuff. The band has an album called “Get Railed.” Check ‘em out. 

As Monty Python would put it: “And now for something completely different,” well, maybe not completely different, but something rather unique and enjoyable…we were treated to the wonderful Black Mambas. No, they were not intimidating men from Compton, but four guys I assume are from the LA area that cranked out a more stylized version of punk rock that included elements of funk, jazz and a bit of a 1950s vibe. Sorry, I did not get their names either, but I made a note to myself that I need to start doing that. When the charismatic singer walked by me, I could smell his fragrant cologne. He even had one of those cool-looking microphones that Elvis used to use. The slam dancing ceased but many people finally chose to come forward and the consensus was affirmative as the many smiling faces on the nodding heads confirmed. My notes are a jumbled, illegible mess, but that tells you how good the band was. The band played a new single entitled: “We Are Stronger When We Are Together,’ and it was great. There are a lot of bands out there with the same name, but they all suck except for this one. 

After that, I finally got to see Rumkicks! I stumbled upon this great South Korean female punk band when I was listening to my friend Mathew’s band 18 Fevers on YouTube. I really liked Rumkicks’ melodic approach to the traditional punk rocksound with its own unique flair of driving basslines and catchy guitar riffs. Mathew was kind enough to ask Rumkick’s guitarist/vocalist Yaewon to put Cathy and me on the guest list and she kindly did that. It is interesting to learn Rumkicks has its own internet conspiracy theory as some people claim it is a corporate creation like those horrible K-Pop monstrosities. That is just plain stupid as are those haters online that call these talented women “poseurs” because of the way they look. The last time I checked, punk rock was about doing what you want the way you want, and while the 1970s British punk look is nothing new, they wear it well, and they live the punk rock life while creating their own music. 

The area in front of the stage became even more crowded and even though it was the band’s first US tour, people clearly knew who they were. Yaewon greeted us with: “Como estas pendejos?” Which was received with laughter and applause as the band launched into, “Don’t Touch My Head.” The whimsical “Fuck You” was played next, and Yaewon extended her initial greeting by saying: “Fuck you everyone. Fuck LA, and fuck the USA.” Well, thank you very much. That was very punk rock of her and we appreciated it. “Drinking Every Day” came next, and I noticed most people knew the words and for every song in the set as well, except for the new single, “Let’s Go,” not just because it is new, but because it’s entirely in Korean except for the chorus. We loved it. The slam pit really started churning and the crowd went wild during “I Don’t Wanna Die.” The set ended with the rocking and amusing “Goodbye Song.” For all the haters out there, please refer back to the song “Fuck You.” The set was too short. Please come back soon.

By this time, it was well after 12:30 am, and I was getting hungry and tired. Starving Wolves were up right before 999, but by this time, I was thrashed out and I just wanted 999 to take the stage. I saw some guy wearing a 999 shirt, and I asked him if he was there for 999. He said he was, and I told him I detected a British accent. “I am from Nottingham!” he replied. “What are you doing here in the US?” I asked. His smiling reply: “I am playing drums for 999.” Well, I felt dumb and with a laugh, Mr. Stuart Meadows patted me on the back and was kind enough to oblige with a fan photo with me and Cathy. 

Starving Wolves is a great band, and the audience backed off a bit to give the energetic slam dancers their space while the band did its thing. I did enjoy the buzzing drone of heavy guitar work, pummeling drums, and supersonic bass lines, but I did not care for the vocals. Vocalist David Rodriguez (formerly of Krum Bums and The Casualties) pretty much yelled more than he sang. Even so, I agreed with most of what I could decipher of the lyrics: The US was founded on stolen Native American land. Check. Cops are assholes. partial check. We should all look out for each other. Check. The song “Broken Arrows” got my attention, (the one about Native American genocide) as did another song where bassist Zach Volta (also formerly of Krum Bums) took up the trumpet and…seriously now…that guy can really play the trumpet in an impressively triumphantly way. I wonder what that song was. I need to start asking band members questions about such things. By the way, shredding guitarist Kevin Nguyen was also in Krum Bums. Starving Wolves has a new album out, so ignore what I said about not liking the vocals, and check out “The Fire, The Wolf, The Fang.” 

After Starving Wolves finished its set, I asked 999 drummer Mr. Meadows if he was ready to entertain me. He said: “Yes, but how are we gonna go on after that hardcore?” He was quite impressed by Starving Wolves. Cathy and I had been at the front of stage right and as the audience began to thicken, she said: “Notice how all the old people are moving to the front?” I said: “Yeah, and that includes you and me.” The anticipation was revitalizing and I was not tired anymore. 

We had the prime location, directly in front of lead guitarist Guy Days, and just to the right of center stage where his brother Nick Cash took his position. It was almost 1:00 am when the band finally started to play, but the wait was well worth it. The last time I saw 999 was at Showcase Theater in Corona with The Adicts, The Skulls, and Mad Parade in 2002. We old-timers were not as rough up front, but we were packed tightly as the slam dancers found their proper place somewhere behind us as the first song “The Biggest Prize in Sport” delighted our ears and minds. Looking around I saw a writhing mass of smiling people dancing, singing along, and hugging people they did not know. “Black Flowers for the Bride” was next and the crowd sang along as “Oh, oh oh oh!” filled the room. “Obsessed” quickly followed and I was having so much fun I did not mind when a crowd surfer unintentionally kicked me in the head. 

Nick’s vitality was simply amazing. The man is now 74-years-old, but he does not look like it and he certainly does not act like it. He has the energy of a man in his 20s, and he never seemed winded at any point of the band’s performance. He mentioned he and his brother started the band 48 years ago, and they are having as much fun today as they did then. Many times Nick offered the microphone forward so one or more of the enthusiastic fans could sing part of a song. During “Boys in the Gang,” some guy I did not know grabbed me by the shoulders, and we happily sang the lyrics to each other while bobbing to the music. Music is magic and we were all under its ecstatic spell. I don’t really dance, but I could not help myself during “Inside Out.” Soon, it was time to “Let’s Face it Now (The Boy Can’t Make It With Girls)” Too bad for him. Good for us. People were shouting out their favorite 999 songs and of course “Emergency” was called for and well-received. The time machine was still stuck on 1980, so we got some “Nasty Nasty” just the way we liked it. What song do you think ended the set? “Homicide” of course! The place went absolutely wild, and the crowd sang along so loudly it was almost louder than Nick’s vocals. 

But wait! The show was not over. We cheered loud enough to call the band back for a legitimate encore. We got to hear two more songs. Nick told us: “My Street Stinks,” and then he made sure we all knew: “I’m Alive!” Mr. Meadows left his drum kit with sticks still in hand, ran forward and into the inviting arms of the audience who carried him around the room. It was almost 2:00 am when we finally left and I drove the hour home with my ears ringing and a big smile on my face. How good was this show? I still get goose bumps on my arms when I think about it. 

Live photography courtesy of Jeff Terranova Photography.