If superfluous memory serves me correct, I believe I lost my virginity listening to Scream, Dracula, Scream by Rocket From The Crypt. Thirteen years after the release of that monumental album, I found myself at the Mercury Lounge, near the famous Katz's Deli (where a sandwich costs more than my ticket for the night's show), hungering for the latest sliver of rock n' roll liverwurst from Sir John Reis. Sir, mind you, wrought by virtue of my unimpeachable ability to bestow such monikers upon my musical heroes. Under the Night Marchers handle, the man and company delivered the meaty byproducts the crowd lusted for. Nary a eye—nor undergarment—was left unsaturated as the band tore through a bevy of pending hits like "Open Your Legs."
Night Marchers kicked the set wide open with "Bad Bloods" and then launched into the double barrel assault of "Closed For Inventory" and "In Dead Sleep" that leads off the band's debut See You In Magic. During this initial melee, Reis announced to the crowd that he was likely going to axe the article from the band name. A few songs later, after basking in the glow of the crowd's response to his repeated request for them to "fan the flames," the frontman officially decreed to the enraptured punkers present that the men before them were to be referred to simply as "Night Marchers."
The most notable element of the live show was how streamlined everything felt. Even with the return of powerhouse drummer Jason Kourkounis to the fold (after his departure from Reis' old Hot Snakes to settle down in his chosen digs in Philly for a spell behind the skins in Juilliard brats Burning Brides) this live NYC unveiling of a new crop of Reis penned gems was a decidedly less raucous and more lighthearted affair. Despite the overall sound reeking of a familiar amalgamation of the singer/guitarist's previous outfits, the simplified dual guitar and rhythm section setup crammed a shiny new apple in the mouth of a well-roasted hog. The songwriting dynamics distanced Night Marchers from the sound of the similarly pared down Sultans. In this live setting, though, even newly covered ground like the 1970's era Heart-sounding riff that opens "Jump In The Fire" translated as something more comfortingly ragged: dragged out of the garage, dusted off and tossed on stage.
Aside from the much loved horn section of Rocket From The Crypt, also notably absent this night were the weight on Reis' frame and the hair on longtime band crony Gar Wood's scalp. Interestingly, Wood's recessive hairline gave a touch of earnestness to the moustache sprouting above his lip that defied the seemingly inevitable hipster stylings of such facial fashion, especially in the midst of a late night midweek L.E.S. crowd. Rather than one more posturing douchebag, Wood came off like the world's most badass computer programmer.
The guitar and bass wranglers flanking Reis on either side announced the victory lap with their barked harmonies as the foursome let the suitably apocalyptic "And I Keep Holding On" loose on the crowd, before disappearing into that good night. On his way off the stage, Reis handed out random names to the concertgoers as he thanked them, as if each ticket came with its own arbitrary stage name. Playing out perhaps with something new to prove, this was a rebirth after the demise of all of Reis' former bands. But the mutual agreement between artist and crowd that the man they'd come to watch would not let them down also included a caveat: anyone in the crowd could be on that stage with their own rock inked across their own sleeves, so long as their hearts resided on the appropriate corners. All that's left now is to turn those corners until one leads to Brooklyn, where the still article-encumbered Obits feature the Peter Wolf to Reis' J. Geils—Rick Froberg of Pitchfork, Drive Like Jehu and the aforementioned serpientes caliente, a man who knows firsthand exactly how strong Reis' influence comes across.
Download "Whose Lady R U" from See You In Magic – [mp3]
For more information visit myspace.com/thenightmarchers
