jacuzzi boys

In the beginning there were Beach Boys, who begot Soft Boys, and spawned Strange Boys…Now behold: Jacuzzi Boys!——All the way from Miami, FLA, the Boys headlined a very fine Wednesday night at the Rickshaw Stop.  I needed it bad.  Frankly, I was getting sick of San Francisco and all it’s vap-O-pens.  Ocotal, Nicaragua is calling to me.  The first city in the world to suffer aerial bombings (guess who dropped ’em?).  They got a festival there in August.  They close down the streets.  Bands come from all over the country and beyond.   It starts at 10pm and ends around 7am.   After breakfast, donkeys in lipstick and mascara parade the streets.  Where was I?

The Jacuzzi Boys recorded their third, self-titled LP in Benton Harbor, Michigan and Kramer mastered it.  He surely spilt some Bongwater on these guys.  There are “Foggy Notion” feelings and “I Wanna Be Your Dog” sensibilities and even the Legendary Stardust Cowboy is winked at!  The set included a perfect cover of Bowie n’ Iggy’s “Funtime.”  What else do you really need?  Fog machines!  And they had that too, filling the Rickshaw Stop back to front and leaving visibility at 15-20 feet.


SF’s Apache held the midsection.  They dedicated a ‘twofer’ to the Jacuzzi Boys.  One song about coke, “White Hammer,” and another about speed, “Crystal Clear.”  I imagine they do get fine coke in Miami, right up the coast from Colombia and perhaps via Nicaragua’s Eastern Shore.  A rockin’ set all the way through with tasty guitar work a la Scruffs.

Greg Ashley and John Morgan were the perfect start to the night.  Their set closed with the most excellent tale of Prisoner #1131267 (Greg’s former sax player who is up for parole in October!).  The Leonard Coheny ballad is soul stirring.  You can almost hear Mo Tucker pounding a beat and three ladies singing in the background.  Greg and John play again tomorrow, Friday, August 29th, at Chabot Space & Science under the MEGADOME with Buster Keaton and Egyptian images overhead on the ceiling.  Don’t miss it.

terry malts

The mood was so grand and the night so young, it was unavoidable.  Brick and Mortar was just a short ways away and Terry Malts were finishing their set.  Fortunately they played several encores, cause they don’t play around here as much as they used to and it is a damn shame.