November 13, 2002

litterbox

Adventureland
By John O'Neill

SO THERE I am standing in the middle of the dance floor, buzzed out and laughing helplessly because I'm experiencing déjà vu all over again. Not that anyone notices – all eyes are riveted to the stage, where the Teenage Harlets are heating up. The floor is slick with spilled beer, toilet paper-streamer trails litter the tables, and everyone is completely delighted, except the occasional club owner, who makes a silent vow to never book these idiots again. Tonight the lead singer-head moron is attempting to shimmy up a support beam while singing. After he falls, a couple of onlookers decide to shift into audience-participation mode and proceed to drag him around on his back, making him look like the world's ugliest squeegee. It's nothing out of the ordinary for the Harlets, although when they're not running completely amok, they also play music. Folks are dancing up a storm, slipping and falling, yelling vulgarities, and spraying $3 bottles of Bud around the room in a grand display of nitwit tribal revelry. And there in the middle of it all with a shit-eating grin and roughly two dance moves is the kid from the Rock and Roll Adventure Kids. I think his name is Marcos, although I haven't been able to confirm this. In three previous attempts to talk to him, I couldn't get him to stand still long enough to find out. He looks a little like a young Jonathan Richman and acts a lot like I imagine a young Hasil Adkins must have, meaning his behavior travels on a loop between slightly manic and thoroughly unhinged. This much is for sure: Marcos, or whatever his name is, is head over heels in love with music. As a result, I have become so enamored of him and his funny dance-floor antics that I am now an unabashed champion of the Rock and Roll Adventure Kids. The band is that special, and the funny thing is, I'm not even sure I can explain why. They aren't unique; the number of chords they have at their command is finite, guaranteeing that there's nothing new under the sun. And you can hear their musical reference points. But I always end up watching them with a certain amount of awe, as if I've stumbled across a lost tribe of musical primitives. Meanwhile, they act like they can't believe how lucky they are to be able to strangle some noise out of their instruments. Maybe that's what makes them so great – they're intent is so pure, so uncomplicated; you automatically pull for them. It doesn't matter that a good portion of their lyrics are just a load of hiccups, shrieks, and ranting, because you feel like you're hearing expressions of utter joy, and that directly translates to the crowd. When so many artists are busy making important statements, it's nice to find a band whose only declaration is "You can dance if you want to."

Rock and Roll Adventure Kids and the Teenage Harlets join the Red Barons and Hatemail Express for an all-killer, no-filler throw-down Fri/15, 9 p.m. Talk of the Town, 4481 International Blvd., Oakl. $6. (510) 534-8255.