Chris DeLine

Playing a sold out show at Minneapolis’ 7th St. Entry, Atlanta’s The Black Lips defied their well documented reputation through most of their performance, playing a straight ahead brand of rock and roll equal parts punk and The Beatles. By the time the show was wearing down however the band had treated its audience to a gig worth remembering, one that escalated from sharing beers with crowd members to guitarist Cole Alexander finishing the set with his pants around his ankles and bassist Jared Swilley exchanging a joint with his new friends. Well before the band took the stage however New Orleans duo Quintron and Miss Pussycat played an unforgettable set.

Quintron and Miss Pussycat are a unique pair, each offering up a bit of spectacle, a bit of sweat and a whole lot of energy. Quintron, armed with his Drum Buddy, a hi-hat and a pair of keyboards, never stopped moving throughout the entire show despite being primarily stationed at his keys.

Far more darling in her delivery was Miss Pussycat, steadily keeping in time with her maracas while occasionally erupting with powerful vocal wails. Sounding like that of the many powerful female singers out there (the ladies from Mika Miko come to mind), Miss Pussycat (not unlike Quintron) performed with a strange sense of realistic sexuality that engaged the audience while negating stereotype. Later joined by a third member on stage the duo eventually stepped from the stage into the crowd during their performance, each individually raising the level of energy amongst the crowd of the sold out show.

After concluding their set the trio then took place behind the overbearing housing that accompanied them on stage, continuing the performance by delivering a surprisingly enjoyable puppet show. What started as something heavily uncertain eventually turned into something overwhelmingly enjoyable with the entire crowd loving the goofy storyline as it played out.

Rumor of The Black Lips’ shows often overshadow the music itself, this night’s show being no exception as it ravaged the small club. The floor directly in front of the stage was a strict vessel for those attempting to bash about drunkenly – so even when the action on stage was maintaining a moderate pace there was always something to watch out for. The group hit the stage around 11:30 with multiple beers in each band members’ hands. From there they quickly assembled their gear and waded surprisingly casually into a brief cover of Link Wray’s “Rumble,” the song acting as the introduction to the show.

As the set grew longer each of the band’s members took on a presence of their own. Guitarists Cole Alexander and Ian St. Pe balanced the band out, each standing at one end of the small stage; Alexander sporting a makeshift Friar Tuck hairdo and occasionally smashing beer cans on his head, St. Pe rocking gold fronts and a cocked Atlanta Braves hat.

The band blasted through a number of solid tracks from last year’s Good Bad Not Evil including “O Katrina,” “Bad Kids” and “Cold Hands” as the crowd continued its boisterous energy, often shoving bassist Jared Swilley’s monitor around the front of the stage and knocking St. Pe’s mic stand over.

After the bulk of the set had played out the band returned to the stage with beers and smoke in hand; St. Pe looking especially satisfied after the band’s extended break. The group continued by hammering out a few more songs, further inciting the crowd and getting everyone’s blood pumping. The audience might not been witness to the folklore that helped give the band its outlandish reputation on this night no blood, puke or piss, but it did see a fantastic show by a great group of guys who played the living hell out of their instruments.

[This post was first published by Culture Bully.]