Dickies finally manage to mollify disgruntled crowd

Tuesday, November 3, 1998

Dickies finally manage to mollify disgruntled crowd

MUSIC: Despite concert delays, complaints from hecklers, veteran
rockers satisfy riotous audience

By Brent Hopkins

Daily Bruin Contributor

Just watching the fans creep into the dark confines of the Roxy,
it became apparent that the night was going to be strange. In one
corner stood a ghost with sunglasses, another held a
not-so-innocent-looking Dorothy and roaming through the crowd was a
creepily realistic seeming Unabomber. And of course, the punks.
Lots of punks.

Whether they were authentic or merely tricked out for Halloween,
the leather jacket and spiked hair crowd was in full force for the
three-band punk show on Saturday.

The original opening act, Kingpin, never showed up, pushing back
the opening of the concert for an hour and a half. This lengthy
delay left the crowd ill at ease, kicking off a long evening of
restlessness.

When Lunatics On Parole finally took the stage at 9:30 p.m., the
animosity did not cool off at all. Throughout the hour-long
performance, the crowd yelled obscenities at the band, asking them
in less than polite terms to pack their things and go home.
Fortunately, the advice was taken, and the torturously bad heavy
metal rantings ended within an hour. After a lengthy delay, Agent
Orange took the stage.

"We’re feeling a bit stiff up here. I think it may be rigor
mortis setting in," tuxedoed singer-guitarist Mike Palm said.

Though Agent Orange, mainstays of the Southern California punk
scene, may be a bit older than most punk acts, they certainly
didn’t seem it in their energetic set. The mosh pit started before
Palm even sang a note.

The audience offered a few more lewd comments during the hour of
hard-edged punk, but overall, they seemed far more satisfied with
the band’s quick-paced offerings. The frenzied pit action continued
throughout "Too Young To Die," "Bloodstains" and a surf-tinged
cover of "Secret Agent Man." Fans even jumped onstage to sing along
during "Somebody To Love," but were quickly hurried off by
security.

It was a fickle crowd that night, just as apt to cheer the music
as they were to scream and throw beer onstage. Even when the
Dickies took the stage, decked out in a full range of Halloween
costumes, they were still unsatisfied. Though they danced furiously
and cheered the headline act’s throwback punk music, they continued
to throw things onstage.

Leonard Grave Phillips, the group’s deranged-looking frontman,
seemed unconcerned, throwing the objects right back, never losing
his composure throughout the evening.

The Dickies have been together for more than 20 years, and look
it. Guitarist Stan Lee, with his long curls draped over a maroon
jacket, could have been lifted straight from a Miami Vice episode,
as Phillips pointed out. This is not to say that Phillips looked so
young himself, appearing more like a social security collector than
a punk singer.

The Dickies’ sound, however, was anything but old. Phillips’
wild antics onstage were not that of an aging drug addict, as he
referred to himself, but those of an energetic teen. He strutted
about like an arrogant rooster, danced like a football player in
the end zone, kicked a stage rusher back into the crowd and leaped
around like a ballet dancer ­ albeit one with a severely
impaired sense of rhythm. His manic sprints, combined with his
furious high-pitched vocals, made for a stage presence that was
hard to dislike.

"I’m not a genius; I’m just a hard- working guy," he said,
describing the efforts he put into the show.

The band’s amalgamation of punk and rock mirrored Phillips’
energy. Their twin guitars recalled a classic sound somewhere
between Boston and the Ramones, cranking out fast-paced snarls that
complimented Phillips’ childlike snarls nicely.

They worked through a fairly dense catalog of songs, including
"My Pop the Cop," on which the band showed some backing harmony
worthy of the Beach Boys; an ode to substance abuse, "I’m On
Crack"; and "Wagon Train," which Phillips dedicated to deceased
band mate Chuck Wagon. The band also delved into cartoon themes,
sending up punk-branded covers of both "Gigantor" and "The Tra La
La Song" from the Banana Splits. Cartoon rock has never sounded so
scary or fun.

Throughout the concert, Phillips maintained an odd rapport with
the audience, alternately thanking them graciously and telling them
to shut up. Even when he insulted them, his wry sense of humor
showed through.

"You guys were too cheap to buy KISS tickets, weren’t you?"
Phillips joked, referring to the mega-event across town.

Some may have preferred the glitz and production of the ’70s
superstars to the stripped down sound of the Dickies, but for most
of the animated crowd, it looked like the band was serving just
fine. It may have taken a long time for the evening to get rolling,
but the Dickies were certainly worth the wait.

Photos by BAHMAN FARAHDEL/Daily Bruin

The Dickies play during their Halloween show at the Roxy.

Single line photo cutline.

The crowd at the Roxy moved to the crashing guitar chords of the
Dickies on Halloween night.

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