Tag: The Bug Club

The Jesus and Mary Chain continue to produce their signature hydrochloric treacle.

Royel Otis would like to work you over with chocolate-covered brass knuckles.

“Is this the music, is this the music you like?” yell The Bug Club above a robotic repetitive riff. Yes, this is the music I like. Tonight’s special seems to be bands with names too sensitive to read over the air in Rural Colorado, like Pissed Jeans, Mannequin Pussy, and STRFKR. No matter, we’ll turn it into a game for the listeners.

If you’re looking for subtlety and innuendo, keep looking because Mannequin Pussy is out of stock.

Mall Girl is not what you would typically encounter at the mall around these parts.

A flamboyant tip of the hat to Charley, who shared Being Dead with me only recently. I am smitten and kicking myself for missing their debut album’s release last summer, but I am fiercely making up for lost time. This evening’s Velvet Potty Mouth award goes to STRFKR, whose distinctive FUCK sat like a rock in a river of glitter and was carefully edited out for the Grand Valley’s sensitive ears.

A very quiet night, perhaps everyone is hunkering down for the leap day. Featured is IDLES, who all look like they could recommend a good IPA, and also would be willing to kick my ass for thinking so. Tonight featured more than our usual ration of covers, starting with a not-unlikely take on Beck’s “Loser” and following up with takes on tracks originally made famous by Muppets and Devo.

Everyone loves the Office Dog, and is giving it snacks in secret.

It’s the evening before Valentine’s Day, which means absolutely nothing here at lacking org. Instead, we’re opening up with the Sex Clark Five taking on the Byrds, and something from Norwegian up-and-comers Mall Girl, who manage to hold up a broken mirror to American indie rock without cutting themselves to shreds. Also, their bassist name-checks Laddio Bollocko. Also tonight, more splendiferous instrumental musings from the incomparable Matt Berry to kick off the Final Hour.

Joanna Sternberg is an open book, and you can’t keep from turning the pages.