Last night at Stickyz, the Flameing Daeth Fearies opened for Goner Record’s Nobunny and his current touring band, the Bad Sports. The Nobunny-hype must have stopped just short of Little Rock, or maybe the punkers are distracted right now. Only about twenty people showed, and according to Nobunny, “This is, like, ten times the amount of people that came to the last Little Rock show.”
Nobunny is Justin Chamblin, a former animal-themed Elvis impersonator from Tucson and Oakland. The Nobunny concept (a pop-punk art project about love, horny love) was born on Joey Ramone’s death day. The songs are screechy, fuzzed-out, Ramone rips about eating burgers, getting dumped and a prostitute named Tina. Chamblin plays on his own recordings, but during live shows, he focuses on theatrics. Barefoot and pantless, Nobunny is a titillating muppet frontman in the style of GG Allin, Iggy Pop or The Cramp’s Lux Interior. Except that, at least in Little Rock, Nobunny was pretty tame. Texas rockers Bad Sports backed Nobunny and, in addition to catchy tunes and a bunch of pantomiming and karate kicks, we were treated to this inside scoop: Bad Sports lead guitarist Orville Neeley prefers boxers, drummer Gregory Rutherford prefers briefs, and bassist Daniel Fried prefers pants. Nobunny performed in his trademark rabbit mask. He gave us a few crotch clutches and some microphone deep-throating, but there was nothing truly outrageous.
During their own set, the Bad Sports delivered cocksure remnants of the Stooges, the Ramones and '60s proto-punk garage and surf acts. Their songs were about how bad Puerto Rico sucks, how much they love themselves and how much they love teenage girls dancing in the streets.
The Flameing Daeth Fearies are Rusti Majere on lead guitar and vocals, Jo Bob Thorndyke on drums and Ginger Hiro on bass. They hail from North Little Rock, and they sound like early Blink 182 or maybe a gag-laden version of the Get-up Kids. They look like a cross between a Japanese cartoon and a Brittney Spears video, and they go out of their way to stage a production. Last night’s set included lit-up props, dancers in fuzzy costumes (furrydom, anyone?), amp-hopping and rock-star posturing. All of this meant that I could enjoy their show without actually digging their sound, which is fine, because I’m not really their demographic. (And I should mention how annoying I find the Get-up Kids, and how in 1995, they were only one of my favorite bands. So, you know…)
More pictures and video after the jump.
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