The Starvations w/the Holy Ghost Revival, the Blessed Light
Sat June 12, the Switch House (4026 22nd Ave SW), 6 pm BBQ, 7 pm music, $5.
As Raymond Chandler and the NFL have shown us, nothing organically comes out of L.A. Things go there. Even the famous palm trees were trucked in, and the rock bands are no different. Try finding a band made up entirely of indigenous Los Angelenos. Now try finding a talented one. The good stuff, like the Gun Club and the Leaving Trains, know they're bastard son amalgamations of far-away roots stuck into earthquake dirt. Welcome to the world of the Starvations.
While they've been together in some form or another since 1998, the Starvations have toured little, though they play the L.A. area constantly, and have managed only two long-players and a few singles. Hence they've remained from whence they came: in the underbelly. But they've immersed themselves in the concrete and neon nightmarescape of Tinseltown long enough to come to terms with it.
"The general anxiety of this city is equally handicapping as it is inspiring," explains singer/guitarist Gabriel "Scarecrow" Hart. "As long as you don't buy into the big deceptive 'lottery' of becoming rich and famous, Los Angeles is an amazing place, especially for existential types who want to carve out their own niche." That hunkering down in the face of the phonies has helped make the Starvations one of the best American bands going. They take the trashed roots wrangling of the early '80s Slash Records era (X, Gun Club, Flesh Eaters, Blasters) and raise it up out of wannabe cowboy territory, but there's also a gothic heart and a few Bad Seeds mix tapes at the center of this band. Each release has shown a hard-won progression, a throwback to when bands concentrated more on retooling their sound than retaining their "brand."
The 2001 debut CD, A Blackout to Remember (Revenge), thrashed along on second-generation psychobilly that angled more toward booze and graves than pompadours and Cramps impressions. The One Long Night EP (2002, Kapow) was a huge leap into a low-rent high drama that had no analogous stylistic contemporary (short of the late, great, similarly underappreciated Rock*A*Teens). Though most, including Hart, had given up looking to L.A. for any innovators. "It was a dismal time for us in L.A. until around 2001. No one got what we were doing, and we got stuck playing with all these horrible 'punk rock 'n' roll bands.' Then all of a sudden all these great younger bands started popping up--the Alleged Gunmen, Rolling Blackouts, the Orphans, Flash Express, the Fuse, Red Onions, the Grand Elegance--who were giving the middle finger to history and doing stuff that sounded really vital and new. So a camaraderie was inevitable."
It was with the "Horrified Eyes"/"Maintaining My Grave" single (2002, GSL) that the Starvations really pulled away from the pack. Then came the album Get Well Soon (2003, GSL). Like early Gun Club playing New Order's Power, Corruption & Lies, it was the most tragically gorgeous record of the year. Violins and Vanessa Gonzalez's pulsating accordion and piano romanced their rockabilly willies. The Starvations don't come to praise their roots, but think fondly then forget 'em like you would a deadbeat dad. Hart admits, "We'll eventually morph into this hot new genre known as 'death doo-wop,' as soon as we feel like the world is ready for it."
Remember, the bravado has yet to dry up, and with good reason. The Starvations' live show appears desperate and disheveled, but moves you like a gospel revival. And their recordings keep getting better. The new GSL single portends great things for the upcoming untitled CD. Hart promises, "It sounds [angrier] but also more atmospheric, more piano driven."
A full U.S. summer tour should help expand the band's horizons, but don't hold your breath. The smog ain't lifting any time soon. While their L.A. punk forefathers saw the city as a hole to dig out of, the Starvations just kind of dig it. "It's no surprise that there have been hundreds of books and movies about Los Angeles as the host of the apocalypse," says Hart. "We made a paradise façade right on top of a major fault line. [There's] the whole blurring of fantasy and reality with a movie being shot on every corner. The sunshine everyone comes here for gives you cancer. The smog being responsible for our beautiful sunsets. I could go on and on." And hopefully they will.
