The Town Pants Don’t Have A Drinking Problem

Duane Keogh has that look in his eye.  Run to the hills!

Starting things off with the signature tin whistle/fiddle celtic jams that launched the band from local pub phenoms to global touring sensation, "Shore Leave"  kicks off with the self-titled track about a musical sailor who heads ashore to celebrate his newfound land legs to sexx all the women and drink all the beer.  After an epic binge, he misses the train back to his boat ("Trains Not Taken"), and  throws a drunken fit on the platform about some guys in Vancouver and how absurdly awesome everything is there ("Rainville").  Failing to catch the train, he wanders on down the road, and happens upon the coolest graveyard in the world, where the ghosts of Van Gogh,(who, through a clever play of words, is only "half cut") Trotsky, Tesla, Magellan, Ernest Hemingway, and an all-star cast await hapless passers-by to come along and buy them a drink.  "Both angel and devil drink here, and it's always your round".

  Is this boozing meme inherent with celtic rock?  If so, this will really help me come to grips with the Irish Rovers and that "green alligators and long necked geese" song, cause those dudes must have been WASTED when they wrote that!

As this epic journey unfolds, the Pants introduce us to the most melancholy song of the album, "Angel", which, I assume, is our hero's ex-girlfriend.  He really didn't know just how amazing she was.  Whatever.  It's time to drink!

[blackout]

Dave's head feels like a football.

Thinking about Angel leads Mr. Pants to a local pub, where he meets the guys from Iron Maiden and tries to drink them under the table.  Awaking to most whorrific hangover of all time, in "Death Feels Like Me Today", he briefly laments "Why does feeling like dying make me think that I've been livin'?".  He seems to recall a shooter contest with Bruce Dickinson, and telling the band that the Town Pants can be way more metal than Maiden should the mood strike, but the remorse is short-lived.  "The Unlikely Redemption of Oliver Reed" finds our hero back on his feet, vowing to drink until he's dead.

This dude is hardcore.

Flash forward: our hero has found his ship home.  With "Coming Home" he posts a message on Facebook about how hardcore life on the road is, and invites everyone to come on down to join him for a pint at English Bay.  Unfortunately, he's not quick enough with the update, and one of the women he met while making his way to his ship instant messages him:

"Hey you"

Awkward moment.

He responds (in "Sailor Song")

"When I said that I loved you I was drunk, but I meant it anyway"

She responds:

"Im cumming 2 Boozapalooza in Vancouver and im bringing my brother who thinx ur Jesus.  Can u guys play sumthing we know?"

Oh, my. 

Looks like Pants has himself in quite a predicament!

Just think Hendrix burning his guitar at Monterey.  Only replace "guitar" with "misbehaving imaginary chicken".

Let's just fast forward things a little bit here, and introduce another character to this lil' adventure: me.

As I swagger into the Commodore in my typical swaggering fashion, I can't help but notice just how painfully empty the Commodore Ballroom's dance floor is.  Isn't this Boozapalooza 3?  Where the hell is everyone?  Whatever. 

I make my way up to front of the stage to secure my spot for Rich Hope and His Evil Doers' set.  It isn't much a of challenge: there's like 12 people up there.

As Rich Hope And His Evil Doers swagger onstage, also in their typical swaggering fashion, and unleash some nasty, dirty blues rock on the minimal audience, I'm struggling not to laugh every time I look over at the drummer's bass drum emblazoned with the band logo "Dawg Dick".  I've heard Rich Hope is an ass-kickin' jokester who's really all about just rocking out and being a bluesy jackass, so I guess this is to be expected, but what the hell is that thing on his lip?

Oh, that.   Actually, he's sportin' up and taking part of Movember, to help conquer all sorts of bad things that plague dudes around the world, like prostate cancer and depression.  Considering just how goddamned awful that thing looks, y'all should do the guy a solid and head on over to his Movember site and help him out: http://ca.movember.com/mospace/353262/ . 

And goddammit, go and buy his CD, because it's high time the guy got some funds raised to record a new one.  Oh, and did I mention his drummer is Adrian Friggin Mack?  That's right, it's just Rich Hope and Adrian Friggin Mack, the guy who's written columns and dunce-crushing Payback Time responses since before I even knew what a PC was.  Writing a review for these guys is like inviting an amateur thumb wrestler into a UFC ring to play with Brock Lesnar.  All I'm going to say is that Rich and Adrian killed it from the moment nobody was there to the time the floor was full, which really didn't take long.  By the end of the duo's set, (who are the "Evil Doers" anyway, Rich?   Cause there's only two of you.), the floor was full, and Rich was rockin' it  like there was ten thousand people up front. 

Now, when the next band up starts bringing out hay bales and boxes emblazoned with the "Cock Brand", you either shitcher britches or get ready to "Let 'R Roar".  I did both.  I'm sorry, everybody.  That smell of roses?  Me.

I have only heard of Run GMC through their MySpace page and a few name-drops here and there, and was, to be honest, a little cynical at first.  A "trucker rock" band?  From Vancouver?  I checked out their MySpace page and spun their few select tracks enough times that I knew the songs word for word by the time they rolled around to 'em onstage.  I'm still wondering just what the hell is up with these guys:  Were they thrown out of the USA?  How come they sound so American?  Why did the "Ol' Dragon" die on a "cold Colorado night" on the album, but a "cold Fort Langley night" when they played it live?  Why are they so awesome?  Why don't they have shirts larger than Large?  Why weren't they selling hats?  Did their bass player's wife have their baby yet?  When will we see an official video?

Straight up: I love Run GMC.  I picked up "2 Pickets To Tittsburgh" and have been rocking it steady ever since. Although the EP only has 6 songs, the band played a whole bunch of new tracks, featuring some badass Steve Earle-esque vocals and lap steel from their laptop steel player Whats Isname.  Why these guys don't have an official web thingamajig with a bio and all that fancy stuff is beyond me, but I guess it's all part of their charm. 

How I managed to hang onto my spot for this long is a mystery.  By the time the emcee of the evening (who had a voice like Sam Kinison and Gilbert Godfried) returned to get the crowd pumped for the Town Pants, I was surrounded by drunks, looking to get their dance on.  Some chick behind me was massaging my back and reading whatever was on the back of my Clutch t-shirt multiple times. Not that I minded: she threw in a couple backrubs, too.  My newfound concert buddy, Diane (I think that's her name) to my left, made sure that my elbow received plenty of elbow boob-massage time, while The Most Stoked Dude In The World to my right made sure to pogo against me for the entire duration of the Town Pants, while constantly wide-eyeing me to be sure I was having the most awesomest time of my awesome life at the awesomest show in the awesomest world.  Our little circle was intermittently broken up by fellow gate-charging elbow-boobers.  I was in a great place.
 

Kicking things off with the morbid classic "Mr. Valentine's Dead", the Keoghs, the ultra-dapper Aaron Chapman, bassist Brendan Mooney (who apparently wishes he could levitate, as he was in the air more often than not), the drummer whose name I didn't get, and that lovely violinist whose name I didn't get either, proceeded to turn the Commodore into a "Liverdance".  As this was their CD release party, 9 of the 10 new tracks were played, with the exception of "Angel", along with the classics: "Lamenter's Lament", "The Old Landlord", "Monahan The Mutineer", "New South Wales" and that's about as far as my memory serves.

No, wait, they ended the night with an all-star ensemble singalong of Iron Maiden's "Run To The Hills", and it was awesome!!!!  I thought I may have dreamt that , but it's the last track on the album and goddammit, it rules.

As awesome as their version of the Maiden classic is, I'm a little confused by their mix-up of the lyrics:

It's:"Raping the women and wasting the men"

  Not "Wasting the women and raping the men".

Actually, now that I think of it, that's pretty goddamned metal.  I bet they did that on purpose.

Check out the Town Pants photo gallery here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/telemov/sets/72157622741229113/

Run GMC pics here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/telemov/sets/72157622740262681/

Rich Hope/Dawg Dick And His Evil Doers:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/telemov/sets/72157622734352665/