Nearly twenty-five years have passed since the world was introduced to a scrappy garage-punk band from Atlanta called the Black Lips. The lineup has changed over the years, and the band has had its ups and downs as they’ve graduated to larger venues only to eventually land back into the smaller venues and dives where they seem to thrive. Yet somehow, despite their wild antics and combustible live performances that would burn out most bands within a few years, the Black Lips have solidified their status as one of modern rock and roll’s most enduring acts with a steady clip of studio albums and a relentless touring schedule that has brought them to seemingly every corner of the globe. On Saturday, November 9th, their itinerary brought them to Portland, Oregon for a raucous show at the Aladdin Theater.
Getting things warmed up was California’s Pancho and the Wizards. This gang of four unassuming young dudes delivered a set loaded with elements of punk, sludge and stoner metal, psych-rock, and general heaviness. The combination of a two-guitar attack plus a heavy rhythmic backbone – and no shortage of sinister riffs – kicked up the energy level in the crowd. The band’s set started with older songs before the second half shifted to songs from an album to be released next year, with the newer material favoring more melodic, indie rock-leaning sounds over the heaviness of their older tunes. What may have been lacking in stage presence and showmanship was made up for with a solid forty-five minutes of tunes.
With more fans flooding the area in front of the stage, the Black Lips hit hard right out of the gate when they opened their set with the saxophone-heavy rocker “Slime and Oxygen.” For the next hour, the band proceeded to do what they do best and give their fans a set of gloriously sloppy, delightfully unhinged, freewheeling rock and roll. Cole Alexander unloaded a wild guitar solo on “Family Tree” before Jared Swilley led the band through the country-soaked boogie rock of “Holding Me Holding You.” The band leaned into their doo-wop-meets-garage-punk on a handful of songs, including the always entertaining “Dirty Hands.” They ramped it up with the spit-filled “Stranger” that brought together the punk edge of the Ramones and a fuzzy psych-rock sound before Zumi Rosow put down her saxophone for the jangly “Get It On Time” that saw the tempo ramping up into a rowdy explosion. In between bouncing around and grooving to the songs, the audience yelled out requests, with Swilley responding, “We probably know how to play only 10% of the songs we’ve written.” Indeed, the band didn’t deviate majorly from recent setlists with many deep cuts, but they succeeded in giving their fans a grand ol’ time for a Saturday night. They would seal the deal during the encore with Rosow and Jeff Clarke stepping into the spotlight for the swooning “Chainsaw” before whipping the audience into a mosh during the lively ode to being a juvenile delinquent “Bad Kids.”
To truly experience the Black Lips, you need to keep an open mind and allow the madness to unfold before your eyes. In Portland, it didn’t seem to matter that the sound was a muddy mess and the light show wasn’t much better, or that the band briskly left the stage after a mere sixty minutes (including encores). While most bands might tighten up after twenty-five years, the Black Lips are still primal in the best kind of way (and Oakley Munson is one of the tightest drummers out there). Their stage antics may have been less rowdy and unpredictable than in the past while onstage in Portland, but their intensity and swagger were hardly toned down.
