Name Seattle’s Funnest New Rock Night

“Name a band whose logo you might’ve drawn on
your high-school notebook.” Jake Stratton is dressed up like a smarmy
1970s game-show host—with slicked-back hair, a cheap suit, and
giant sideburns. Behind him, on a screen hanging over Re-bar’s stage,
is a nearly exact digital replica of the classic Family Feud display, a column of blank rectangles concealing the top five responses
to the question.

Stratton is standing behind a beat-up podium. On either side of him,
Helms Alee bassist Dana James and Akimbo singer Jon Weisnewski are
facing off, buzzer hands at the ready. Their bandmates stand lined up
behind each of them on either side of the stage. The audience, crowded
into Re-bar’s showroom, whisper and giggle to one another. James slams
her hand down on the buzzer and shouts, “Def Leppard!”

Stratton turns to face the screen and calls out, “Def Leppard.” Then
he grins and asks the catchphrase question of the evening (because all
good game-show hosts have a catchphrase): “Does it ROOOCK?”

Ding! One of the rectangles flips over, and with that, Helms Alee
have gained control of the board over their challengers. Half the tipsy
crowd explodes with cheers, while the other half jokingly boos and
heckles. Members of Akimbo throw their hands up in defeat.

This is Grudge Rock: The Rock ‘n’ Roll Family Feud, which Stratton
has been hosting at Re-bar for going on seven months. It is Seattle’s
funnest new rock night.

For the rest of the night, the members of Helms Alee and Akimbo are
asked to name Musicians Who Are Infamous for Their Attraction to Young
Ladies (Jerry Lee Lewis, R. Kelly), Popular All-Girl Rock Bands
(Sleater-Kinney, the Runaways), and Bands Whose Lead Singer Went On to
Do Bigger and Better Things (Police/Sting, No Doubt/Gwen

Stefani).

Just like in the traditional game of Family Feud, the band
that can guess all the correct answers before getting three strikes
wins the points. If the band gets three strikes, their opponent has the
chance to steal by simply naming a single correct answer. To make it a
little more rock and roll, the bands take turns performing live sets at
the end of each round. On this particular night, after stealing quite a
few points (and playing a killer set), Helms Alee took home the grand
prize, an envelope containing all of the door money. The losers of
Akimbo got free haircuts and a bag of porn.

Grudge Rock was thought up years ago when Stratton—a Family
Feud fan who can rattle off the long list of hosts along with
trivia about each of them—was watching reruns of the classic game
show and dreaming about who would be on his team should he ever be
lucky enough to play. He realized he wouldn’t want his family there by
his side—he’d
want his bandmates. Hence, Grudge Rock.

“It’s one of those things where you get an idea, and you start going
through all the things that would work against this idea,” says
Stratton. “And then you’re like, ‘Man, you know what? This could
actually fly!’ Then when you start doing it, you’re just waiting for
that thing that you didn’t think of to come out of nowhere and fuck
everything up. And that hasn’t happened yet!”

Grudge Rock is a perfect balance of sloppy DIY attitude (lots of
beer, homemade buzzers that “moo” or “meow” instead of buzz) and
thoughtfully planned effort. What makes watching the whole spectacle so
great is Stratton’s knack for playing the greasy, know-it-all game-show
host professionally enough to control both the crowd and the
drunker-by-the-minute band members onstage.

Stratton is no stranger to the spotlight. He’s been the announcer
for the Rat City Rollergirls derbies for years, he’s MC’d Seattle’s
Semi-Pro Wrestling league (and “fought” in a few matches), and he’s
also the frontman of long-lived local band BlöödHag, a
sci-fi-inspired grindcore band notorious for throwing pulp paperbacks
at the audience. (Their motto: “The faster you go deaf, the more time
you have to read.”)

Stratton says the inspiration for his hilarious Grudge Rock persona
is legendary Family Feud host Richard Dawson.

“The Richard Dawson era is the best,” Stratton says. “My preparation
for becoming a game-show character is to go ‘pinkies out.'” He laughs
and daintily sticks his right pinky out. “It’s the Dawson way. The
entire day, leading up to the show, I’m pinkies out when I drink, when
I ring people up on the cash register at my day job—and that’s
how I hold my microphone during the show. I’m collecting pinky rings to
help me with that.”

Despite its growing success, Grudge Rock is still a work in
progress. Stratton would love to build a more professional rig for the
buzzer system, get even better “fabulous consolation prizes” for the
losing band, and, of course, attract a larger “live studio audience.”
He’s already lining up some exciting things for Grudge Rock’s near
future.

“I don’t want to talk too much about what’s coming up, because I’m
afraid I’m going to jinx it,” say Stratton. “But I am working with the
Vera Project and the Showbox to do what I’m calling ‘Prime Time
Celebrity Specials,’ where I would get two larger bands, who might not
want to play Wednesday night at Re-bar, and have them play for charity.
And I’m working with the Vera Project to do an all-ages one—we
don’t want to leave the kids out.”

A Grudge Rock tour is also a possibility.

“I’ve been trying to get bands from out of town to do it, but what
touring bands like the chance they might not get paid? But we can pack
all of this up in a car pretty easily and take it down to Portland,
book a few Portland bands, maybe take it all the way down the coast for
a week.”

For now, Grudge Rock is still Seattle’s secret, happening the first
Wednesday of every month at Re-bar. The next “episode” is April 1
with—survey says! (sorry, I couldn’t help it)—the Girls
versus Blank Its. Does it rock? Hell yes.