Please note this review contains a drunken Chad and his novel absolutely brilliant use of the English Language (Contains Swear Words)
Written by: Jimmy Palmiotti, Amanda Conner
Art by: Chad Hardin
Publisher: DC
Okay. So I’m pleasantly drunk and just got back from seeing one of my favorite bands—Bobaflex—perform one of the coolest live sets ever. Now, I could write a review about Harley Quinn: #1, but the comic was complete fucking shit, and I don’t want to ruin my good mood. Given that, and given the fact that no one on this site bothers to edit anything I write these days, I think I’m going to stick with being happy. We cool with that?
Good. (As if you had a choice.)
I live ten minutes away from a small city in Wisconsin called La Crosse, and ever since…maybe two years ago, 95.7 THE ROCK has hosted what they call a “booze cruise.” They load up a small tourist boat called The La Crosse Queen with 100 people, get a band to play an acoustic show, and then sail around for an hour while serving liquor at a reasonable price. I’ve had the displeasure of missing out on the two previous booze cruises (Wayland and Royal Bliss for the one person who cares) because the shows sell out in under an hour.
When Bobaflex were announced as the next one, I was determined to go. Nothing in the world could stop me! Thankfully, I heard about the show on my way to work and just used a work computer to buy tickets. It was actually really, really easy.
Now, the other thing you should know is that Bobaflex are a metal/hard rock band. Their stuff tends to go one way or the other depending on the album, but in general, I’d rate ‘em at a constant 7.5 or 8 on the rock hardness scale. Songs like “Chemical Valley” and “Vampire” probably come closer to a 9, but that’s a rarity and debatable since metal heads are insufferable pricks.
This means that them doing an acoustic set was very, very different from their norm.
Let me paint you a picture…actually, I don’t feel like it. Let me tell you what happened instead, since that’s what Harley Quinn #1 was all about. (Might as well pretend to stay on topic.) We board this boat which isn’t very big and head to the upper deck. It’s filled with chairs and three lovely waitstaff who are taking drink orders. Jack n Coke is only $5.00, which is pretty alright in my book. I order one and find a seat somewhere in the middle of the venue. In this case, “middle of the venue” is something like nine feet from the stage.
After a bit of waiting and gulping my first drink—I have been accused on many an occasion of gulping my drinks—Bobaflex show up and open with “Chemical Valley.”
Hearing one of their hardest songs acoustically was one of the coolest things ever! It was so different yet not, and in some cases, not all that acoustic. The guitars weren’t distorted to hell and back, and the drums weren’t going crazy since half of them were missing, but Sean’s vocals were still as raspy and hard hitting as ever. Shouts were still shouted! I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him sound so crystal clear or on point, or “Chemical Valley” performed in such a gorgeous way.
Metal music can be beautiful. I stand by that 100%. Metal vocals, be they clean, raspy, or distorted from the gut, can also be beautiful. In this case, raspy was made beautiful. It was also cool as shit!
After a handful of songs, Sean traded places with Marty, and they jammed a bunch more. Marty has a slightly cleaner voice, but it’s still kind of raspy, and honestly, who cares because it’s awesome as hell. I think my favorite bit was when they played, “A Spider in the Dark” because fuck that song is awesome. I mean, I love all their other songs, but this one manages to hit a nice level of creepy, and the guitar work is wicked.
Bobaflex played for a solid hour and some change, going through their big singles (shoutout to “I’m Glad your Dead“) and the occasional…non single. Does that even have a word? Probably. I heard most of my favorite songs by them, and the ones I didn’t hear I knew they weren’t going to play. The non-singles from three or four records ago never get played anymore. Hey Bobaflex, how about you throw us a bone and jam to “I Still Believe”? That song is rad as fuck!
The whole show was absolute perfection, with lots of nice banter between songs. That was a change of pace, since normally they gun through their tunes with only the occasional intro of, “This song is called” before starting up. I liked getting their personality, and I liked that they were having as much fun as I was. One would think that impossible, but hey, one is stupid.
Or something.
Good God though, hearing a guitar solo that’s normally all about the whine and the shred unplugged is cool as hell. I don’t know how to describe it because I don’t know music words, but really, it’s amazing. If you know a bar that plays host to live music, you owe it to yourself to go. You’ll probably hear exactly what I’m failing to talk about.
Harley Quinn #1 was shit in case you forgot, by the way.
Now, of course I came to this show ready to jam and have a blast—which I did—but I also came with a mission. I have their newest album, Anything that Moves, and it was quite sadly unsigned. That needed to be fixed post haste! I also brought a silver Sharpie Marker because this mofo comes prepared.
My work was simple: find and talk to every band member and ask nicely for a signature.
I did this. The execution was actually equally as simple. I mean, we were all confined to a boat with a bar, and there were only a 100 of us.
But it was still cool as shit! I’ve gotten to meet Bobaflex a handful of times (the most notable being two years ago on my birthday when they had me do a pull of Jagermeister with them), and they’re always just so awesome and nice. Today was no exception. I chatted fishing with their drummer, music reviews with one of their guitarists, La Crosse with Sean, and was recognized by Marty as, “that guy who knows all the words to our songs.”
I do. I know all the words to their songs. Well, except for the songs where I don’t know the words to them.
After some more drinks and partying, I bought a t-shirt because drunk me needed yet another Bobaflex t-shirt. I then had my brother drive me home because I’m responsible. Don’t drink and drive kids. That shit is not cool.
I then went, “Do I really want to review Harley Quinn #1 when it’s shit when I could talk about something way more fun?”
I wonder what the answer to that question was.
