brendan halpin

Last night I ventured to Deep Cuts in Medford to see Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol. Their most recent album is called Big Dumb Riffs, and, I mean, talk about delivering what’s on the label. It’s a really fun, gleefully stupid record.

(Does the band’s name make you uncomfortable? It makes me a little uncomfortable, though I’m having a hard time articulating why. I mean, something about 3 white guys using Rickshaw. I was thinking, as I stood in the all-white crowd, would I feel comfortable wearing this band’s t-shirt around Asian people? I think I wouldn’t. Is it possible I’m overthinking? Certainly.)

Somehow, when I wasn’t looking, Medford became a place people want to be. I was stuck in traffic at 7:30 at night and had to drive around forever looking for a place to park! (Yes, the Green Line does technically go to Medford now, but it’s the other end of Medford.)

Anyway, the venue was jam packed. My friends who ate there told me the food was excellent.

Lip Critic opened up, and wow, I was very much not a fan of this band. Two drummers like Molly Hatchet, no guitar, no bass, just a guy with a box making beeps and boops and a vocalist who sounded like Ian McKaye doing a Slick Rick imitation.

No melodies, no choruses, no hooks, just (admittedly, bangin’) beats and a guy shouting at us. Lots of people in the crowd seemed to like the band, and I kept thinking about Sly Stone: “all we need is a drummer for people who only need a beat.” I am not one of those people, so it wasn’t for me.

Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol, on the other hand, was definitely for me. Oh my God, the bowel-shaking low end this band generates! Singer/guitarist Leo Lydon plays an 8-string guitar, and I read a thing about how he and bassist Aaron Metzdorf tune their instruments about as low as they can go while still having enough string tension to be playable. Low. LOW. Like I’ve seen doom metal bands that didn’t generate this kind of low end. (Just one—WORM. They were excellent, btw.)

It’s not doom metal, though. For one thing, you can understand the vocals, and for another, most of the songs are way too fast to be doom. The set list leaned heavily on the new album, and the crowd seemed to know every song. “Body Bag,” “Clowntown” and “1-800-EAT-SHIT” were crowd favorites. I was pleasantly surprised that they played “In A Jar,” a slower, melancholy tune with a beautiful melody that happens to be about committing homicide. They closed with “The Cincinnati Tilt,” which is a great song even if you didn’t happen to grow up in Cincinnati as I did. (and as the band, to my knowledge, did not. Though they’re billed as being from Austin, Leo Lydon’s sister was in the crowd (and given a lengthy and reverent crowd surf) and Aaron Metzdorf mentioned having dated someone from Scituate, so maybe they have local roots.

In any case, an absolutely kickass rock and roll show. It was about an hour long and never dragged for a second. If they come back to Boston, I’ll be there.