With a couple power chords, 3 swinging glittered Hagstrom guitars and a strobe light, Mike Krol blasted through the first half of his latest rocket of an album, Power Chords that him and his band is currently touring. On bass, the beautiful Allison Crutchfield (Swearin’) stands center stage, harmonizing in a whirlwind of Krol’s unique buzzing, boppin’-punk. Such a sweet and badass couple Krol and Crutchfield make. The band compliments Krol’s beat up and black-eyed main character with pink pinstripes and battle wounds bleeding out flaring sparks of rhythm and righteousness. The set was an industrial nuclear bomb. The crowd wasn’t as packed as I’d like to see for Mike Krol, but the closer you got to the stage, the tighter you felt the pack of fans who came out to see the band. Krol pulled out all his tricks, leaving the stage to sing through the crowd multiple times, jumping off the bass drum, slamming the strobe light that rang to the rhythm of his delayed vocal effects. You could read and hear the real fans when he got talking to the crowd and busted out his pocket hits such as “Suburban Wasteland, Neighborhood Watch, Fifteen Minutes, Like a Star and Natural Disaster.” Honestly towards the end of the set, if you didn’t have earplugs in, you’d hit this state of euphoria where you hearing these beautiful, catchy melodies over this ratty, garage fuzz.
Overall, if you’re a fan of Krol, you had a fucking blast. Earthquake Party shot off the show with their minute-long screamers, followed by Savak. Now, Savak is a band from New York, who Krol invited up to Boston to open for him. When they first get on stage, your first impression is, these are some 9-5, 40-year-old looking punks.
‘My Uncle Danny and his buddies up there having a good time, but holy fucking shit did these guys rock.’ I thought.
They rode on conversational guitar parts until the songs would break open like an egg with a raw, bitter bite. I felt like I was witnessing some tension-fused version of Television, The Pixies and Interpol. Check out “Savak,” for real; you’re in for a treat.
P.S. Mike Krol will save your life.