The idea of a Rock and Roll competition is probably shortsighted, a bit silly (the Stones vs. the Beatles?), and arguably worthless. But Lucky Strike’s Band 2 Band Combat annual competition isn’t really about “The Best Band” but actually seeing some of the best talent in the region. For four years Lucky Strike has sponsored the contest which enables bands to compete by audience vote for a $15,000 booty and a lot (I mean A-LOT) of national publicity.
The only downside of the competition is that it’s a competition. Where I’ve been able to see some amazing talent from other states (notably Detroit’s Rev—a ferocious pop trio with a rabid snarl, and St. Louis’ White Label—a rhythmic hardcore group that combines hot white rock with aggressive rap seamlessly), the sad part is, they all can’t win.
Every competitor does something different. Taken as an avenue for a big break and a shot at the prize makes Band 2 Band invaluable for the contestants. Taken as a chance to see great music from the Midwest makes it priceless for the audience.
This year’s winner, Strain Busy Sky, was crowned June 1 at the Park West. In true beauty pageant style, last year’s winner, the Swinging Love Hammers, handed over the check (no tiara). The headliner was Tantric, but seeing S.B.S. and S.L.H. back to back was the whole reason for going.
On my list of top 10 shows from last year, the S.L.H. blow-out at the House of Blues topped the list. Why? because I’ve never seen anyone work as hard on stage as if nothing mattered. The S.L.H. live resemble a stripped down 3-ring circus—no flash, no pyrotechnics, just bare-assed stomping—and like the best live bands of all time (the Who, the Stones, the Attractions, the E-Street Band) it’s more about the combination of the personalities working off one another than anything else. In Marty Kasey the band has a gifted frontman, less a singer/performer than a spontaneous whirling dervish of a hip-shaking man/child. Lead guitarist Bill Sawilchick resembles a carrot-topped Dennis without the menace, a jolly brat adorned in Bettie Page T’s throwing tantrums with a smart-ass smirk. The rhythm section, brothers Dino and Rob Koralis, probably have the bluntest percussive attack this side of Kraketoa. Dino, swinging his bass like a machete, stomping around in circles, and bopping into pointy toed bunny hops gives Sawilchick a run for the $ in the mayhem department. Rob—though you can’t see him you can definitely hear him—is all violent vulgar attack; sharp-pointed bashing aimed at the spine. And to the left, looking bored, distracted, and like he’s seen it all before, Ben Kelly, sedately playing slicing guitar runs like bleach.
By contrast, Strain Busy Sky is a smart 7-piece band with much less visible mayhem but more of the same energy focused in the music. It’s still a ROCK show, less to do with spandex, lights and visuals and more about pushing the music/lyrics across with an edge. That S.B.S. has some of the most intelligent, funny, and incisive music I’ve heard in a long time is one thing—but the approach makes it something else altogether. Between guitarists James Rubino and Fred Ephram, bassist Rick Stoper and vocalist Phil Trocchio, S.B.S. is sweaty pointed soul with an abrasive edge. On “Laugh at Me” Trocchio snaps “Would you laugh at me/’cause I watch Tom & Jerry?/ Would you laugh at me ’cause my back is hairy?” but though the lyric is amusing (Ricki Lake turns up in that song too), Trocchio delivers it with a deliberate stiletto edge. Blessed with a flaming whiskey soaked snap, Trocchio is the heir to a line of fine white soul vocalists (Eric Burdon, Darryl Hall, Paul Young) but the man is so damned endearing and sincere on stage that it’s hard to not watch him. Better still is the band’s interplay, a sort of jolly camaraderie entrenched in the music.
The last time I saw S.B.S. they were hosting the Y-Meee Benefit at the Hard Rock Cafe (May 12). Blissfield offered a rousing set, but the suspense was whether Trocchio would be able to perform with a throat infection. It wasn’t “42nd St.” but he did make the show and crowned the benefit. The kicker at the end of that set was “Revenge,” a swooping mile a minute rap with an ominous sinister sounding chorus.