Review: Eddie & the Hot Rods

Heads banged and couples pogoed. Men embraced in expressions of shared joy. It was that kind of night Thursday at the RecordBar. It's a shame that just 50 or so fans were on hand to witness Eddie and the Hot Rods.

Those fortunate few were treated to a furious, almost spiritually uplifting, hour of frenzied rock and roll from the British cult favorites.

 

The man under that heap of scarves and bandanas is Barrie Masters, re: Eddie, leader of the Hot Rods. Photos by Bill Brownlee.

Vocalist Barrie Masters is an elfin man. Even if soaked in beer he couldn't weigh much more than 100 pounds,but his voice roared like a giant's. He's the band's sole original member; the other founders were traded in for replacement parts long ago. They are an energetic quartet of younger men and they supported Brasher with a metallic blues-based boogie.

Ballads were entirely out of the question and cover songs included material by the Who and Steppenwolf. But originality was never the band's forte.

Eddie and the Hot Rods achieved a modicum of renown during the punk explosion of the 1970s, but they had more in common with the pub rock tradition exemplified by Dave Edmunds. Perhaps that explains why even "Do Anything You Wanna Do," the 1977 hit that gave the band a minor foothold stateside, was transformed Thursday from a jaunty sing-along into a furious statement of rebellion.

The pop elements of strong classic material like "Teenage Depression" and "Quit This Town" have also worn away, leaving just raw barroom bashing.

California-based Prima Donna was the last of three acts to precede Eddie and the Hot Rods. They attempted to revive the glam rock of The New York Dolls and Mott the Hoople. While it's a clever concept, it didn't really work. Their set was tainted by a sense of inauthenticity, as if the band members were merely playing at the roles of rock stars.

 

The trash/thrash-rock malestrom that is Cretin 66: The helmet is for everyone's protection. 

Conversely, Cretin 66's scuzzy odes to Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, Evel Knievel and rowdy women were completely convincing. The gloriously trashy Kansas City-area band was excellent.

Los Angeles-based power pop band Johnny Madcap and the Distractions opened the show. Right down to their skinny ties, they effectively evoked the heyday of Eddie and the Hot Rods.

| Bill Brownlee, Special to The Star