Also in this Issue
- Microhouse Goes Macro at the Dinkytowner JP Hungelmann and the rise of the Twin Cities minimal-techno scene (Arts Feature)
- Sleater-Kinney Gets Up Hot rock trio links arms, seethes, fills up sky (Music)
- Unplugged Amphibians Follow the Sound of Roaring Crickets Elusive Salamander prepares for Heliotrope '05 (Music)
- More articles from this issue...
More In Da Club Articles
- Kimya Dawson at the Acadia Café Whisper-singing singer backed by xylophone and singing about powdered ice tea elicits spontaneous applause (Jun 8, 2005)
- In Da Club: Styrofoam Duck at the Hexagon bar One way to battle stage fright: Share the spotlight with a drug-addled duck mascot (May 11, 2005)
- In Da Club: Misplaced Music Radio broadcast at the Dinkytowner Local trio flips wigs (Apr 20, 2005)
- In Da Club: STNNNG at the Entry and Buck 65 at the Quest Rockers avoid collision at Entry show, Rapper-storyteller impresses drunks in bathroom (Apr 13, 2005)
- In Da Club: Haley Bonar at the 400 Bar Sulking toward Nirvana (Mar 30, 2005)
- Every Other Tuesday showcase at Acadia Cafe (Mar 23, 2005)
- La-La (Means I Love You) Coming alive with Ashlee Simpson, Brother and Sister, Soweto Gospel Choir (Mar 9, 2005)
- Jam Factory at Arnellia's Now that's what I call someone else's music! (Mar 2, 2005)
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Iowa transplants offer sugary melodies covered in salty feedback
The Slats at the 7th Street Entry
Image: theslats.com
After finally realizing that the band dressed up like accountants for their big set at O'Donovan's last Friday night were, in fact, accountants, I relocated to the Entry to see local punkers the Slats. The Iowa transplants took the stage in a big, sweaty clamor, looking (this is strictly guesswork) like they might be wearing the same socks they wore daily in college--still unwashed, of course, for luck. They played with frenetic energy, bringing the audience to the brink of Ed Sullivan Show-like mania with their pop-punk schizophrenia. Nearly sadistic in their commitment to eardrum-bursting guitar roar, the Slats offer up their sugary melodies as sacrificial lambs before feedback-laced power chords and general racket. At least one song was about social anxiety; or maybe all of them were, indirectly. It's grating stuff, also entrancing, and kind of hard to resist.
