Unfortunately I missed the first band, Success!, but arrived just in time for a full set by Skyfox. Skyfox is a four-piece similar in look and sound to Blink 182. Singer Johnny Hill even looks like Mark Hoppus. Skyfox is not a copycat band, though. They come with their own unique style and tons of charisma. All four of them exude innocence, but it’s as if they’re mocking innocence in a humorous fashion. They put on a really fun show as a result.
Skyfox is a young band. I’d be surprised if any of them is over the age of twenty-five. The youthful exuberance they emit onstage is also present in their songs, which are loaded with more hooks than a kindergarten coat rack. But hooks and youth aside, Skyfox tackles some very serious subject matter in their songs, such as taking a friend to rehab.
Introducing the song, Twilight, Johnny Hill dedicates it to all the ladies in the audience, but with a smirk on his face as if mocking the Twilight mania (aptly so). Hill also joked about attending Christian schools and being forced to attend church every Sunday. This led into a bouncy little song called Church.
Skyfox is a band with depth and passion despite their seemingly carefree attitude. At one point they even broke into the Blink 182 chant of repeating taboo four letter words several times. Skyfox puts on a very entertaining show and are definitely worth checking out.
The wait between bands wasn’t too long and The Voodoo Glowskulls were next to hit the stage. And they hit the stage like a raging tsunami, opening with Insubordination. Like a flame to a gas tank, half the audience erupted into raging, burning mosh pit slammers. Front man Frank Casillas, bounced around the stage like an electrically charged rubber ball and a rubber mask covering his head. After the first song, the mask came off and he donned a pair of glasses. Casilla’s vocals demand reverence while his brothers (Jorge on bass guitar and Eddie on guitar) create the driving force. Mark Bush on trumpet and Brodie Johnson on trombone are the combined match that lights the gas tank on fire. There’s no way any hale or hearty person cannot slam to this band.
The frothing, steaming mosh pit only got worse when the band lit into their tumultuous cover of the old Coasters hit, Charlie Brown. Every time the chorus of Why’s everybody always pickin’ on me came around, singer Frank held the mike up to audience members who obliged by screaming the words into the mike.
Other songs that made the mosh pit steam and writhe were Shoot the Moon, which Castillo alternated with Spanish lyrics (The Voodoo Glowskulls have recorded many of their songs in Spanish). The band played many of their classics as well as songs from their new album Break the Spell just released last week.
My only disappointment was that the Voodoo Glowskulls weren’t the headliner. Their set was way too short.
Speaking of headliners, if being drenched by the tsunami that was the Voodoo Glowskulls wasn’t enough, Authority Zero blasted the club to pieces. Singer Jason DeVore leaps about the stage as if there were hot coals covering it. Chris Bartholomew (also vocalist for the band Allura), is filling in on drums for this tour. (Former drummer Jim Wilcox played his final show with Authority Zero on New Year’s Eve.) Jeremy Wood plays bass and Brandon Landelius plays guitar. All of them play so fast it’s a miracle their fingers don’t catch fire from the friction. This band plays faster than a seventy-eight RPM record. The audience never let up either. The circle pit and moshing continued with wild frenzy and only intensified (which hardly seemed possible) when they tore open the chords of their hit, Revolution.
Again, their set seemed way too short, but maybe I was having too much fun.
This concluded my whirlwind week where I worked, picketed, worked, braved the mosh pit for NOFX, worked, worked some more, saw Concrete Blonde play, worked some more and braved another mosh pit for the Voodoo Glowskulls/Authority Zero show. I left achy, sore and bruised, but exhilarated and proud that I’d survived the fact that three of my favorite bands were playing in Seattle on three consecutive nights. As I surveyed my bruises from being slammed into other concert-goers, being slammed into walls, being slammed into the stage, I realized that these weren’t badges of honor. They were war wounds. Suffice to say, the batteries in my camera died before I did.
All photos property of Holly Homan, all rights reserved.
