If I could record my voice and play it for you right now, I would have a sound clip of my reaction to Screaming Females. I would throw some metal up on both hands, cross my arms and do some sort of opera/Justin Hawkins voice that would be "THAT ROOOOOOCCCKKK". I've known of the band's existence but never bothered to pay attention. Gimme a break, you should see my inbox and stack of promo CDs.
Their home base is New Brunswick, NJ (motto: crushing your academic dreams since 1766). I went to college there and we NEVER had any bands form while I was there. So I missed Thursday, The Gaslight Anthem, Tim Fite and My Chemical Romance emergence from the central NJ rock scene. With MCR, maybe that was a good thing that I missed that. In any event, Screaming Females have been playing house parties, basements and backyards for a past few years. More recently, they've been doing that DIY Brooklyn thing and opening up for Dead Weather.
Which brings me to Saturday's set, Marissa Paternoster is a guitar god in the making. She's this Cobain and Prince hybrid shoved into a 5-foot frame. She plays guitar like it was a wild boar that's attacking her. She spins and jerks around as if she's trying to tame her instruments. The screeches and distortions give it a raw energy. On the top of that, she screams her head off. Thus, a perfectly named band.
Their music is very much in the DIY, lo-fi indie punk vein -- your basic, guitar-bass-drum trio. Their advantage is Paternoster's chops. There a few songs where she'll just do her things while the others hang back and enjoy the chaos. It's something I've got to see again to witness that ball of energy slam around on a small stage. Thus, they play Maxwell's on August 13 and Death By Audio on August 14. And a head's up to my British readers, Luminaire on Oct. 28 -- get your arse there!
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