cuponoodles

After hearing about the band Gram Rabbit through Melissa from the Oregon Commentator, my friend Pete convinced me to accompany him to their show at the Doug Fir on Saturday night. Gram Rabbit was one of the opening acts, along with local band Minmae, and the headlining act was The Golden Republic, from Kansas City, Missouri.

"Dirty Horse," the first song off Gram Rabbit's debut album, "Music to Start a Cult To," has been described by the LA Alternative Press as:

"…the soundtrack to Tarantino’s wet dream — this is (for all practical purposes) the equivalent of Lee and Nancy dropping acid and sharing a couple of tokes with Satan."

As Pete, Autumn, Brandon and I have been indulging in Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra collaborations lately, this certainly piqued my interest.

Pete got to the Doug Fir before I did, but we both ended up at the venue a half-hour before the show started. After downing a few cocktails ($3.50 whiskey sours, $4.50 greyhounds), we headed downstairs.

At around nine o'clock Minmae stepped up to the plate and belted out their set. It definitely wasn't my kind of music, but it wasn't bad. The lead singer had an excellent voice and the drummer played some catchy beats, but the songs tended to mush together and I didn't discern much variety in their sound.

After discovering much to my displeasure that my white Russian cost $6.00, Gram Rabbit started setting up on stage. Pete expressed dismay that one of the members of the band was sporting a toupee, because he said he had seen the fellow sporting a bald head and bushy beard in one of the band's group photos.

"He looked liked a Mormon missionary in the photo," Pete said, looking disappointed. Pete later said that the guy did rock out the toupee, though.

Anyway, aside from the lack of baldness, Gram Rabbit put on an excellent show. Surprisingly, the group has no drummer and instead relies on the aforementioned gentlman to provide beats on two turntables. He had a tendency to run off stage and hug friends that were in the modest crowd in front of the stage. He later rocked out so hard that his toupee came off, probably on purpose.

A fan threw a stuffed bunny rabbit on to the stage and the lead guitarist placed it on top of the band's keyboard. Throughout the performance, the lead singer and keyboardist, Jesika von Rabbit fished around a basket for more props ranging from wearable bunny ears, to a toy six-shooter that she brandished and waved around.

The best description of their music that I can put into a few words is that it's like the soundtrack to a David Lynch movie: Twisted, dark, insane, on acid, with some sultry, deep vocals, cool keyboard and guitar work, and sleazy electro beats.

Really, I'm not music reviewer, so you should really just go listen to some samples or download mp3s from their website. Both Pete and I bought a $10 CD from their merchandise table. I had a pleasant conversation with their lead guitarist, Todd Rutherford, and warned them about the crappiness that is West Eugene when he mentioned that they were planning on playing at the CD World on West 11th.

"I get the feeling that it's going to suck," said Todd.

However, I did tell them that their show at John Henry's later that evening will probably end up being pretty good.

The nice surprise of the evening was The Golden Republic's performance. They really knew how to rock it out, with some excellent lead and backup vocals, catchy hooks and a good variety of melodies. I was bobbing my head during their whole set and grabbed their CD after the show.

After the show Pete and I headed out to (where else?) the Gardens, where we both managed to blow some money on video poker and play a few games of pool. I sat at the bar most of the time, while Pete paid some attention to the dancers, and just people-watched for a while. At one point, a number of girls from the Rose City Rollers, the all-female roller derby team, showed up to the club decked out in some shiny evening wear, a number of tattoos, and their roller skates. They appeared to be regulars because the old lady who mans the bar seemed to know them on a first name basis. One of the gals (or one of their friends as she seemed a bit older) leaned against the bar, looked over at me and asked, "Are you ready to rock?"

"Uh, I'm always ready to rock…?" I replied, feeling a little unsure of what this lady was going to ask next. Was she going to ask me to participate in some roller-derby action? Apparently the answer was "No," as she turned her attention away from me in order to get a drink offered by her friend.

After a few games of pool, Pete and I set out in search of a meal. The night of rock n' roll, dancers, and alcohol had deprived of essential nutrients. I recommended the Roxy, where I had eaten a fine meal of biscuits and gravy after my Zoobomb experience in October. Finding it was a little bit of an adventure because I only had a general idea of where it was. But we eventually snagged a sweet parking spot across the street from the greasy spoon, and before too long I was digging into a hearty plate of country-fried steak and eggs.

The guy sitting next to me at the counter seemed a little bit odd, as he asked me about my country-fried steak, and then asked me if I voted for Kerry, and then started talking about some local environmental activist named Bernardo, and then the Aviator and Leonardo DiCaprio. Mind you, he would ask me one or two questions quietly, then not really listen to my answer, and then talk to nobody in particular. Half of the time I would think he was talking to the guy seated on the other side of him, but I would realize he was mainly talking to himself. Very odd, but it didn't make me feel uncomfortable as I mainly kept my mouth full of food so I didn't need to engage him in conversation.

After the Roxy, Pete and I took our separate and thus another weekend adventure in the city of Portland came to an end. Oh, and if you're in Eugene make sure to check out the Gram Rabbit show at John Henry's tomorrow night. I don't think you'll be disappointed.