The Slats at the 7th Street Entry
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.
Get the Music Newsletter
Keep your thumb on the local music scene each week with music news, trends, artist interviews and concert listings. We'll also send you special ticket offers and music deals.