Sat Jan 3, Fun House, 9 pm, $5.
There was the time when they came out with duct tape patched over their faces, a microphone cocked in the singer's mouth like an S&M gag. Or the time when one of their drummers pounded on car parts, and a guitarist flopped around on his back like a struggling cockroach. Or the shows when their frontman chipped a tooth, got naked, or broke a rib. These are the moments when Tractor Sex Fatality most feels like a band perilously rubber-banded together, connected by a slim thread of low-end rhythm and nebulous sobriety that's stretched to the breaking point, and if one live wire connects with one big drop of sweat, everything's gonna short-circuit and self-destruct and all that'll be left are a bunch of frayed cords, busted amps, and a drunk guy in the front asking, "What the fuck was that?"
The answer to that question is not so simple, as even "Who the fuck was that?" depends on what period you're asking about. At present, frontman Rob Fletcher tethers guitarists Dave Bessenhoffer and John Laux, bassist Karlis G., saxophonist Eben Eldridge, and drummer Ward Reeder to a world of aural collisions, where performing on top of the next guy is as natural as the carnage in old driver's-ed flicks--limbs and parts and fluids and noises commingling in a gnarly pileup as megaphone sirens blaze in the background.
"It's weird," Fletcher says, "because we have Point A and we have Point B and we know how to get there, but what happens in between always changes. I like a lot of noise and half the band is more pop-oriented. They have more traditional standards. I don't like the Buzzcocks or the Jam.... I like Swans, Lightning Bolt, Wolf Eyes, stuff like that. So I always want to be ridiculously noisy, to the point where, in the early days, we were joking that we should let people in for free and make them pay to get out." Raised on '60s and '70s country music in Illinois, Fletcher (who many will recognize from his day job at Video Vertigo) says his original idea was to have a band that sounded like the Honeymoon Killers and Pussy Galore doing the Charlie Daniels Band. "I wanted to do Southern, swampy country songs done horribly wrong--like 16 Horsepower," he adds, "but noisy."
The first couple shows garnered comparisons to the Butthole Surfers and sounded, according to Fletcher, like "standing inside a jet," but they've since found a happy medium between the fluttering tunings, megaphoned psychobabble, caterwauling feedback, and the essential backbone of a strong rhythm section keeping the gale in one general direction. "Now it's more like you're listening to a song that you think you might like, but it's on an AM radio station that's not tuned in," Fletcher says.
But being at a TSF show isn't like watching a bunch of sound freaks prod you with acerbic wankery. There's a fucked-up blooze/garage punk aesthetic in the sound as well, held down by the collective resumé of the band members (which includes time spent in/with the Blow Up, the Gloryholes, and the Gimmicks). Saxophonist/backing vocalist Eldridge adds further complexity to the band with his skronking instrumentals and vocals, which, given his background as a soul singer and his love for Detroiter Mick Collins, at times add a Gories-style element.
Live, TSF's energy is exhausting and exhilarating. Their sets, at 25 minutes max, spin into mini tornados, with music and band members fighting against the opposing options of keeping their shit together and abandoning structure completely. Says Fletcher of the band's deranged aesthetic, "With most bands, you're like, 'Well their last song was good because they finally let loose.' They're holding up the energy until the end. Why not just start on the encore and go?"
When asked why he's so drawn to maniacal music, he says, "I just like the aggressiveness. There's an element of danger there, and not even on an album, but live. Seattle seems to be lacking in danger. And not that we're really dangerous, but when you see stuff like the Germs footage--I like the idea of Darby Crash, [but] without being a junkie and hustling."
