
It’s been a while since I saw a show at the Rock n’ Roll Hotel. It’s also been a while since I saw a band’s manager run out on stage with a bottle of tequila and make everybody on stage do a shot. And I’ve never seen a drummer crowd surf off the stage, through the audience to the back of the club, get an upside-down shot, and crowd surf back. Until last night.
I’ve written about White Reaper earlier this year. My nephew, Connell turned me on to them. They are a hard rockin’ punky breath of fresh air on the music scene and I was surprised the number of people last night did not reflect that — even though the size of the audience’s enthusiasm did! (Your loss, DC!) The band hit the stage and never stopped moving. They barely took a break between songs — exhaustingly segueing from one tune to the next with only the occasional banter and request to contribute to the tip bucket that was being passed around to help the opening band pay for their broken down van. I love watching bands like this because they remind me of all the late 70s punk bands that I never had a chance to see: aggressive, catchy, sweaty, bouncy, LOUD, and clearly, just happy to be on stage performing for a receptive audience who responded to every note like the local radio station had been playing nothing but White Reaper constantly for the past month. Ha!
I thought the band’s debut album was brilliant when I first heard it, and I can tell you that their blistering live performance last night only backs that up. White Reaper may very well be the world’s best American band. For now, they are just the Happy Medium Song of the Day again — this time with a song appropriately entitled “The World’s Best American Band.” (Please use the comments box to share your thoughts.)