Rustic at Dos Kolegas

Around the time of Rustic’s band members’ births, about two decades ago, their country’s doors were just being opened up to the rest of the world. With that came sweeping changes, new opportunity and exposure to alternative lifestyles previously unimaginable in China, especially for three self-proclaimed “poor boys” from rural Hebei. Jump forward to 2010, when Rustic, on their way next week to London to compete as China’s national entry in the upcoming Global Battle of the Bands, are well on their way to their openly stated dream of rock stardom: eyeliner, booze, women and all.

They’re not quite there yet. On Friday evening, they played before a half-full Dos Kolegas crowd, which warmed to their trademark retro rock and roll theatrics without being completely won over. Rustic’s tightly wound pop-punk, which gleefully mines everything from early Sex Pistols-era punk to 80s hair metal, makes for an escapist, hope-fuelled performance, where members announce their starry-eyed dreams as brazenly as bassist Ricky Sixx’s open chest; the stage a platform that lifts them—at least for now—far above the cynicism and irony of the modern world.

“Diamonds are a girl’s best friend…but girls are always a boy’s best friend!” screams lead singer Lucifer, wearing his trademark rectangular sunglasses, a nod to his idols, the British “punk pathetique” band Toy Dolls, whose coarse humor and working class pride present clear inspiration. He continued to throw out a litany of tongue-in-cheek one-lines throughout the set, including “If you say you don’t play rock for girls or money, you’re a liar!” and, in reference to their upcoming contest: “We’re just three boys from Hebei who are going to kick the world!”

They led the set with “Girls Are Not Yours”, a riff-tastic dedication to hedonism, whose fast-flowing hooks and chorus are all Mötley Crüe and Poison, a nod to Ricky Sixx’s glam metal roots. His is an obsession turned way-of-being that flows through his entire soul, from his bleach blonde shag and skin tight cow (niubi) pants to his sensual, phallic bass-playing. Lucifer, who briefly demonstrated his musical prowess with a surprise clarinet solo early into the set, sneers his way a la Billie Joe Armstrong through tales of debauchery like gutter punk-ish “Pay to Cum” and “Rock n Roll for money and sex.” His guitar playing is smooth and assured, and he and Ricky possess a magnetic, naturally flamboyant interplay. Behind them, drummer Li Fang, with his bright red mop top, propels the mythological Starship Rustic forward with swift, deliberate economy.

They closed with “Anarchy in the UK,” fitting given that their next gig will take place there, but also because of Sex Pistols manager Malcolm McLaren’s recent passing. The show was entirely over-the-top, utterly anachronistic and filled with a joie de vivre so refreshing within Beijing’s gloomy post-punk-focused scene. It was also a lot of fun.

Forget the fact that hair metal died long ago, or that most casual observers will see Rustic as a group of country boys playing dress-ups. These three wild boys from rural China—poverty-stricken, naïve and boundlessly talented—are out trailblazing a new path to that of their yuppie peers, but one born of the same ambitious dreaming and dedication.

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Links:

Official Myspace: http://www.myspace.com/rusticpunk

Written for Beijing City Weekend, published April 11, 2010: http://www.cityweekend.com.cn/beijing/articles/blogs-beijing/the-beat/rustic-at-dos-kolegas/

Concert review: 24 Hours at D22

Last Friday, I saw the Xi'an three-piece 24 Hours tear up D-22 with their set of sharp, irony-tinged pieces of perfectly danceable indie pop.

One of the points that has garnered a lot of attention in coverage of Beijing's booming rock scene is the prominent role of women. 24 Hours is no different: their bassist/lead singer and guitarist are both women, and their lock-tight playing, bounty of jaggedly catchy hooks and no-nonsense, utterly confident stage presence left the crowd in a state of dazzled awe.

Musically, they recall a lot of the bands that have influenced this past decade's indie sound: the band themselves cite garage, disco and post-punk as influences, and will appeal to fans of Bloc Party, the Long Blondes and (perhaps most of all) Franz Ferdinand. The band's name comes, according to their Myspace, from the film "24 Hour Party People", the 2002 classic that covered Manchester's music community through the late 1970s and 1980s, and their Brit-pop roots gleamed clearly through their set.

They aren't however, slavishly imitative of their influences. For a Chinese band that performs in English, the group's lyrics are surprisingly good. Though it's not something to judge by a double standard, it needs to be acknowledged that writing songs in a foreign language is significantly harder than singing in one, and I strongly doubt that most folks living in Xi'an, central China, get the chance to use English as much as say, those from France or Sweden, other countries whose bands (think Phoenix and Peter, Bjorn and John) often sing in non-native English. Their lead vocalist, Zhang Chen, in a classic retro-black dress and straight-cut bangs, swung between delivering lines with dark, tongue-in-cheek gall a la Alex Kapranakos and nailing speedy bass lines in full rock-out mode. Her voice is already far more filled-out and authoritative than peers; beyond the yelps and shrieks, she’s also able to actually carry a tune. Additionally, the other two band members frequently sing as well, sometimes employing an engaging call-and-response male/female interplay that suggests a more danceable, gender-switched Von Bondies.

Their songs, while not breaking much new ground, are well-constructed, layered three-minute affairs, with plenty of impressive, angular riff exchanges between the guitarist and bassist. Meanwhile, drummer Li Guan Yu glided effortlessly from punishing four-to-the-floor rock to funky disco hi-hat work. And as high-caliber as their songcraft is, what really lifts 24 Hours into rarefied territory is their musicianship: the three-piece are already a ferociously tight, skilled rock machine. If they missed even a single beat, I certainly didn't hear it, and the way they consistently landed genre-leaping, mid-song rhythm changes and breakdowns was quite mesmerizing. That is, except for some in the crowd for whom the band’s rock righteousness was simply too much to contain, pogoing in riotous joy throughout their set. 

And though you can get a taste of 24 Hours on their Myspace, just know that the posted tracks do their live shows no justice, which is surely why fans are so eager to hear their upcoming debut album, to be released, I’ve heard, in October on Maybe Mars records.

Bigger Bang followed 24 Hours, and while their musicianship was not at the same stratospheric level, they show a lot of upside, while they continue to develop their sound and presence. Working much in their favor, however, is spry lead singer Pupi who, in her Karen O-evoking eye liner and bowl haircut, staggered and swung around much like, well, Karen O. She dominated the stage with her slightly deranged, smiling clown-girl poses, and though her voice was drowned out by her bandmates, she has an undeniable charm and pull. The band's sound is similarly YYYs-molded, moving from minimalist punky pop nuggets to softer, fuzzed-out ballads.

Earlier on, the crowd was treated to a couple of other decent acts: Defy, a fun, old-school rockabilly group in full greaser get-up whose set included lively renditions of the 50s classic by Eddie Cochran, “Summertime Blues” and the Clash’s “I fought the law,” as well as the proggy, surf-rock tinged jams of Rubber Phonograph Needle, who looked like they’d just walked off the set of a Monkees cover shoot and whose similarly well-dressed girlfriends/groupies stood motionless before the stage throughout their entire set. 

24 Hours: http://www.myspace.com/nopartypeople

Bigger Bang: http://www.myspace.com/biggerbangtheband

Defy: http://www.myspace.cn/defys 

Rubber Phonograph Needle: http://www.myspace.cn/rubberphonographneedel