Thee Oh Sees, Sic Alps, Wimps at the Neptune
THEE OH SEES, SIC ALPS, WIMPS
If you consider yourself a bona fide punk or garage fan, this bill should get your jean vest and funny haircut real wet. Hell, you might even want to show up early and then never leave. Opening is everyone's favorite new Seattle punk band Wimps, composed of ex-Butts (RIP!) punk compatriot Rachel Ratner (also of delightful freak show Partman Parthorse), Matt Nyce (Consignment, Meth Teeth), and Dave Ramm (Scraps, the Intelligence). I was hooked from their sharp, peeled-back demo ("Stop Having Fun" is stuck in my head right now) released in January, and I've been clamoring for more since. In just the past month, they've shared cred-boosting bills with '77 punk legends the Zeros and noise pop band-to-watch Grass Widow and locals like Unnatural Helpers and Don't Talk to the Cops!, and they've embarked on their first tour. Expect a full-length out from Wimps "sometime in early fall"—that means now, right? Gimme!
The latest from San Francisco four-piece garage band Sic Alps, simply called Sic Alps, though it is their fourth LP, sounds as youthful and carefree as a Slurpee on a hot summer day, with the vocals pushed back and guitars lysergic enough to cause a brain freeze. Vocalist Mike Donovan lazily croons as if he were the sexy and talented child of Stephen Malkmus and Bradford Cox, and the fuzzed-up/stripped-down garage-rock nuggets operate with a Jad Fair–ish sort of strangeness. Things don't quite line up, but that's the appeal.
Headlining are San Francisco's prolific psych-kraut punk band Thee Oh Sees, notorious for their crafty garage rock since the late '90s. The new album (their 10th!) is called Putrifiers II and dropped earlier this month on their heavy-hitting Los Angeles–based label, In the Red. In proper Oh Sees form, the album is full of churning riffs that implode to psychedelic squalls at just the right times. Particularly on the older releases I was weaned on as a teen—like 2007's Sucks Blood—Thee Oh Sees' sometimes-folk-pop-tinged songs always seemed otherworldly. But these genre defiers also never cease to be moshable, and even the Neptune's slightly stifling non-basement atmosphere can't hold back the haunted punk dance party. Haze forecast: maximum. Neptune Theater, 8 pm, $15.