Murder City Devils

Plenty of diehard Murder City Devils fans on the west coast screamed with joy, while others on the east coast moaned with frustration when they announced a mini weeklong tour starting in their hometown of Seattle and ending at the Henry Fonda Music Box in Los Angeles.

For most of the crowd, the enthusiasm and anticipation of hearing old favorites was so high, it would be almost impossible to fail. Murder City Devils are renowned for their pure beer-bottle smashing rock and roll sound, and their broken-hearted, Bukowski-going-through-a-break-up lyrics. There is a genuineness to them that’s a rarity in the current American rock and roll scene, where musical integrity frequently takes second place to good looks and cool hairstyles. MCD are, to put it bluntly, too old and too good to waste their time with that. Clad in a green argyle sweater and black-framed glasses, bushy-bearded lead singer Spencer Moody emerged with an acknowledging wave to the audience. They then launched in to a tight set, playing many of the band’s highlights, including “In My Heart,” an abbreviated “Johnny Thunders,” “Dancin’ Shoes,” and “18 Wheeler” as a triumphant closing track during the encore.

The long-term fans are, well, older now, so while there was a lot of pushing, shoving, crowd-surfing, and general rock-show shenanigans, the overall feel was a friendly vibe — a reunion of sorts for an audience that hasn’t come together in some time. There was plenty of reminiscing about high school years by the bar, old friends that fell out of touch embracing, and genial apologies for shoving or foot-stomping that coincide with an older, more mature crowd.

As mentioned, it would be nearly impossible not to enjoy the show as a fan: the band sounded great, it was the final night of their tour, and the opening acts, two-man (and woman) bands Tweak Bird and Silverghosts were both excellent, and no show where people are that happy to be in attendance can really go wrong. It wasn’t a flawless event. A microphone issue early on caused one song’s vocals to be completely inaudible. The band had minimal interaction with each other and with the audience; the physical separation from the audience seemed awkward, as it often does when more hands-on stage presences play larger venues. They cut a couple of my favorite songs short, and nothing’s more disappointing than having your fist in the air ready to scream out lyrics…only to have them just quit. For a final show, the band lacked the satisfied celebratory attitude I’ve seen on previous tours, although during the encore, Moody did warm up a little and address the crowd.  However, it was impossible not to notice that the band seemed a little weary and over playing such old material. That would seem to come with the territory of a reunion tour, seeing as the band members have each moved on to newer projects.

In the long run, these are issues that lead me to label the show very good but not great. In most ways, it was exactly what one would ask for: going out, sneaking Ralph’s Brand whiskey in the parking lot, seeing your favorite band, and screaming out the lyrics unintelligibly with hundreds of your closest friends. People may not have exited the show changed for life, but we certainly felt invigorated and transplanted back to younger days, when our hair wasn’t quite so gray, the beer gut wasn’t as pronounced, and rock and roll had just started to mold us. And that ain’t so bad a note to go out on.

All photos by Linda Janota