Blogs

Photos by Shea Serrano

​

8:18 p.m.: Walking in, Pac Div, a serviceable hip-hop trio from L.A., is just finishing up their set. They're cool. They make fun of some guy for wearing a Fubu jersey. We automatically like them for it.

8:21 p.m.: There are two hipster-rap fans in here, one close to 13, the other close to 30, dressed almost exactly alike. The weird thing though is that one that's 13 looks adorable and the one that's 30 is deplorable. Revelation of the day: Hipster-rap fans are like dogs. Shit they do that comes off cute as youngsters is the same shit they do as adults that makes you want to hit them in the nose with a newspaper.

8:24 p.m.: Drake was in town not too long ago. He showed a lot of love to Houston, even going so far as to include Z-Ro's "Mo City Don" freestyle into his set. We're curious to see which of the acts tonight plumbs the "You should like me because I reference Houston rap" tree the most.

8:26 p.m.: B.o.B. is next up. The last time we saw him perform was on TV when he was being completely ignored at the ESPYs. Curious to see how he does tonight.

8:28 p.m.: Oh no. How's this for a horrible opening line: "What's up, Austin?!" B.O.B. is immediately booed. Going to be a long night for him, we suspect. He plays it nicely though, saying something along the lines of, "Oh shit. My fault. Okay. I'm gonna go off stage and then come back and you all act all excited." Funny.

Friday

​Newly crowned Best Indie Rock winners Spain Colored Orange bring their florid psych-pop to the Contemporary Arts Museum's monthly Steel Lounge Underground, with Gracie Chavez and a showdown between Sasha Braverman and Henry Chow. 8 p.m., free.

Houston industrial fiend Mike Terror menaces at under-new-management Alief rocker refuge The Blue Door (11124 Westheimer) with DJ Naika Whisperwish. 8 p.m., $8.

Sing along with the common people - or just watch them dance - at Boondocks' '90s dance party with Austin DJs Doneski and Orion.

Tyagaraja, whom you may remember as the man behind Million Year Dance, plays a free show at Block 7 Wine Company, 720 Shepherd (at Washington). 8 p.m.

Ambient rockers Calm Blue Sea float in from Austin to join Caddywhompus and Hat Talk at Rudyard's.

French-twisted L.A. pop-rockers Carney stop by Walter's on Washington with Houston tunesmith Chase Hamblin.

You can leave your hat on...but get the rest of that kit off fast. The ladies don't mess around when it comes to superficially hot, oiled-up dudes (of questionable sexuality, but does that really matter?) getting naked on the stage at La Bare. But because the musical content at places like Chippendale's et al ranges from mildly obnoxious pop to oh-God-why levels of aural insanity, here are a few songs we ladies wouldn't mind seeing you take your clothes off to -- on the stage or in the bedroom.

1. Missionary Man, The Eurythmics: Rarely was Annie Lennox this smoking hot. You can take a few tips from the sultry, warbling sounds and pounding beat of this 1980s hit to kick your routine into high gear. Not to mention you can totally exploit the title to show all the ways that you aren't a "missionary" man all the time.

2. Take A Bow, Madonna: Because nothing's hotter than a bullfighter. Well, maybe only to some of us. But still: Tight pants, cape whipping around, an overly intricate blouse/vest ordeal that we just want to see ripped off? It's a winner all around.

Rocks Off has a naked lady fetish. It's shameful to admit. We really like seeing naked chicks. It's been something we have dealt with since we were four years old and started sneaking into the women's dressing room when our Mom would go clothes shopping. It's not so cute today, what with the beard and druid's cloak.

Once we got older and were dominated by peer pressure, we found ourselves in some random strip club every few months or so. We soon found that our demanding musical tastes dictated which women we would patronize. If a dancer came out to whatever hip-hop song was popular at the time - say, some Nelly cut - we sat down and fumbled with our cell phone with indifference.

Upon our first trip to a strip club, we saw a dancer named Ivory dance to Pantera's "Walk." It was a magical experience, one that has forever etched the song into our brains not as the band's finest five minutes, but as the soundtrack to a nursing student's quest to afford textbooks. She was a talker, that one.

After a horrific brainstorming session, we came up with ten tracks we'd love to see a stripper dance to. Chances are we would never hear any of these songs at a real-life strip club unless the Suicide Girls opened one up, or Rocks Off did ourselves. Hmm...

​Satin Hooks "Trinity School Road": Houston's Satin Hooks are a noise-punk band in the same sense that Liar-era Jesus Lizard and Incesticide/Bleach-era Nirvana once were: torture-slurred, aggrevied vocals, gunk-gummed stop-and-start guitars that wanna beat you bloody while sneaking an earworm melody in under all the crunchy grit.

The whole thing's over in just under three minutes, but leaves a lasting impression, from David Gomez's laser-focused, yet somehow imprecise,m drum fills to Lucas Gorman's inky bass rumble to Kerry Melonson's relentless, steel-cable axe slinging - dig that shredtastic solo showcase about two minutes in. Whew! Can somebody get these dudes a 7-inch in the Sub Pop Single of the Month Club, already?

[Ed. Note: In our humble opinion, this is the best post we've ever had on Rocks Off. Period.]

Rae Bourbon

Let Me Tell You About My Operation (UTC Records, 1954)

​One of the most jaw-dropping album covers in history is courtesy of one of the 20th century's oddest, most interesting, yet least-known characters. Of course he was from Texas.

Born under the name Hal Wadell on a ranch in 1892, Ray/Rae Bourbon was one of the most celebrated performers on the "pansy club" circuit in the 1930s. He first came to notoriety in the early '20s when he submitted a photo to a Paramount Pictures contest looking for the next Hollywood starlet - and won. Lost to the sands of time: the exact reaction of studio bosses when their contest winner showed up... and was a man.

Nevertheless, Bourbon was soon appearing in bit roles in silent films alongside the likes of Rudolph Valentino and Gloria Swanson, often playing the part of a woman. Soon he was touring the country with his own drag comedy/variety show, capitalizing on a little-known, underground craze for gay and female-impersonation themed clubs in pre-WWII America.

Mike Ruiz

​They say man can't exist on indie-rock and metal alone, or something like that. Rocks Off firmly agrees, so when we hear good mainstream pop we ride that horse for all it's worth. That's why a little over a year ago, when Katy Perry hit with her single "Ur So Gay," we were enamored with the raven-haired California native. It wasn't quite bubblegum, and it wasn't quite rock and roll, but it was catchy as hell. Plus it was delivered in such a non-plussed pinup/rocker-girl motif, that many likened her to a curvier American Lily Allen.

Houston and Perry have had quite the hit-and-miss relationship over the past year. She has had to cancel her last two appearances in the 713 due to illness (or SXSW) and, well, an American Idol slot. Until Sunday, the last time Perry performed in front of a Houston audience was last year's Vans Warped Tour at Sam Houston Race Park. Her 2008 album One Of The Boys has already yielded the pop songstress four hit singles including "Hot N Cold," "I Kissed a Girl," "Waking Up In Vegas" and the ballad "Thinking Of You."

Each cancelled date bothered Perry, she swears, and she hopes to be able to do something for her Bayou City fans who have waited patiently for almost seven months to hear her live. Over the phone, she suggested a pizza party, and we countered with "How about a booze party?" Rocks Off temporarily forgot we are actually a part of the silent, drunken male minority in her core fanbase that prefers Lone Star to slices of pepperoni and cheese.

Welcome back to Five Spot. Every Friday, we'll examine a recent bit of music news and, sometimes awkwardly, tie it to a bit of Houston rap. It's five videos and occasional cussing. Send tips to introducingliston@gmail.com.

​You know, prior to the three seconds of gunshots that unwound all the good will, Trae Day was actually a solid event.

As expected, there were the usual concert-day shenanigans that kept us entertained before Trae, Bun, Ross, and Shawty Lo (finally) took the stage - seriously, the "Ricky Bobby" guy performed for about three hours. But J-Dawg, the one guy not named Trae that we were most excited about seeing, did a well enough job that we're legitimately sad that it will be largely forgotten.

J is arguably the second best rapper in the Boss Hogg Outlawz crew. At times, he's certainly more visceral than head honcho Slim Thug, but he lacks the overall marketability that Slim's packaging provides. He's got this unmistakable bottom-of-the-mouth stage whisper for a flow that, when at its most imposing, feels almost skeletal. It gives his songs an immediate sense of weight (most of the time). On more than one occasion we've heard him described as "the Trae of the North," but we're not quite ready to co-sign that statement just yet.

After the jump, listen to a few of his songs and decide for yourself.

Photos by Chris Gray

Umbrella Man

​

As Maureen McGovern once sang, there's got to be a morning after. And it's about as pleasant as you imagine it is. It's not even that Rocks Off is hung over (much), it's more that after Thursday night's Houston Press Music Awards ceremony, we literally left it all on the field. The tank is empty. Even Jackson Browne has no idea how spent we are.

Even so, we'd be lying if we said we didn't have a good time at the awards. Or that we're not proud as a peacock that so many people came out - enough people to fill up Warehouse Live's ballroom, until the inevitable moment in the evening when people decided they'd better go ahead and get to the afterparty. We're equally proud of the winners, be they first-timers like Roky Moon & BOLT (Best New Act) or artists who are on their second trophy case, like the Zydeco Dots (guess what category they won), D.R.U.M. (Best World Music) and Los Skarnales, who, with Thursday's Latin Contemporary win, have now taken every category except Best Female Vocals - congrats, Kristine Mills - and will probably figure out a way to win that next year.

Chris Gray

Scarface (right) and 2009 Best Punk winners Flamin' Hellcats

​

Best Local CD/LP: Bun B, UGK for Life

Best Local EP/7-inch: Wild Moccasins, Microscopic Metronomes

Best Local Song: Mechanical Boy, "She Does"

Best New Act: Roky Moon & BOLT

Songwriter: B L A C K I E

Local Musician of the Year: Little Joe Washington

Best Guitarist: Little Joe Washington