Heavy Cream w/Peach Kelli Pop, Diarrhea Planet and Fox Fun at Glenn Danzig's House, 5/30/11


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The Spin is like any other red-blooded American: We like our Memorial Days packed with barbecued animal flesh and plenty of day drinking. So when we entered the sauna-like conditions of local house-show bastion Glenn Danzig’s House on Monday night, we were already two sheets to the wind and reeking of freedom — we were just looking for that third sheet.

High-school-aged garage-punk duo Fox Fun was already cranking out jams when we showed up, and we’ll admit: Those two little dudes have exactly what we look for in a high-school-aged garage-punk duo: They were loud and upbeat, and it appears as though they’ve been studying the prerequisites for forming a rock outfit of their nature — namely, bluesy punk, classic rock and raw, ’90s-style indie rock. We’ll certainly keep an eye on those young gentlemen.

Diarrhea Planet
And then it was time for the fecal-tinged explosion that is Diarrhea Planet — a six-man-deep, deafening wall of honed punk-pop guitarmonies. Having just completed a two-week tour of, as they put it, “every city in Ohio,” the semi-shirtless DP crew was all too ready to incapacitate the few dozen folks in Danzig’s cellar-like premises with a bewildering blast of party-rock shrapnel, once again proving that — though their name may be a joke — they likely aren’t going anywhere. Which means we have to keep watching our more straight-laced colleagues recoil in snooty horror when we tell them that “Diarrhea Planet is really much better than their name sounds. Honest!”

At some point during DP’s set, our photog broke his flash, meaning he wasn’t able to capture the mad pop-and-lock battle that was transpiring atop a white van parked outside in the between-band interim. (The dancers in question were apparently playing a show up the street and had come to peddle CDs and impress us with their moves. Fair enough.) Anyway, the turnout was, at this point, the biggest we’ve ever seen at Danzig’s, and Danzig’s resident/general punk-rock dude Cy Barkley was having to play the dual role of bouncer and GM, rounding folks up and keeping us out of the street rather efficiently.

Peach Kelli Pop is perhaps the most fitting band name we’ve come across in years. The Canadian coed crew churned out sunny, sweet indie pop that isn’t particularly sophisticated and hovered around the same tempo, but it had its twee charms. Their vocal harmonies, however, reminded The Spin and our cohorts of ’60s all-girl art-brutists The Shaggs. Take that however you want. That’s just what it reminded us of.

The ladies and dude of Heavy Cream — who, young as they may be, are shaping up to be a veteran act in the local punk-rock scene — shut the whole thing down with a sticky, satisfactory, crowd-pleasing set. Our old-fogey side had us concerned for the safety of some moshin’ and crowd-surfin’ youngsters, considering the rather snug quarters. But as most of the voices in the room joined together to sing the chorus of HC’s “Watusi” and we clutched our special-edition Budweiser can — the kind with the stars and stripes printed onto it — to our chest, we remembered that you're never too old to give a fuck about not giving a fuck. Good Memorial Day.


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