Seattle Subsonic

Golden Triangle, Turbo Fruits At The Crocodile

July 8th, 2010

I love it when I hit gold with a show. I was impressed with all three bands that played the Crocodile Tuesday night (read about Chain & the Gang’s headlining set here), none of which I had seen live before, and two of which I had minimal exposure to beforehand. These two were Brooklyn’s fashionable trashcan punkers Golden Triangle and Nashville’s 50s-era boogie rockers Turbo Fruits.

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A quick Google search of “Golden Triangle” reveals this to be the nickname for one of Southeast Asia’s opium production hotbeds. Whether the band took this as their name for that reason or not doesn’t detract from the fact that their hazy, haunting garage punk might induce a similar effect as such illicit narcotics. And without any real frills or gimmicks, too—aside from maybe the notion that the sextet is one good-looking bunch. Carly Rabalais and Vashti Windish are the two kindred spirits working the vocals for GT, and their tones and interplay recall at one time the dual femme new-wave vox pioneered by the B-52′s (“Cinco de Mayo”, “Cold Bones”)  and at another the tough, insistent wail of riot grrrl bands Bikini Kill and Sleater-Kinney (“Jinx”, “Red Coat”). Their tambourine-bangin’ tumult was fun to watch, as Rabalais threw herself to the floor often. The guitar work from O.J. San Felipe and Cameron Michel wasn’t easy to separate, but mostly it was just some odd, rockabilly-tinged goth-punk muddled together with bass and drums to create a frenetic and spooky good time. Good for fright night OR dance night (kind of like the Cramps or Thee Oh Sees, I say). “Neon Noose”, a dark, driving post punk tune, seems to be one of their pinnacles:

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You can watch another video I took here.

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Jonas Stein seems to be the creative force behind the relentless bubblegum punk that Turbo Fruits blitzes with (the liner notes in Echo Kids says “Thanks to Wes, Zack, John, and Max for helping me make this record happen”). I had no idea what he was singing about because his lyrics were unintelligible and he spoke rapidly with a cartoon-y Southern drawl. They looked like Seattle kids, though, and played like a Chuck Berry/Joe Strummer/Buddy Holly super group. Poised, brash, well-rehearsed, and not afraid to utilize their pipes for some surf side harmonies (Astro Coast by Florida’s Surfer Blood comes to mind as well). They had some sludgy moments, too, lending a not-too-straightforward-ness to their set. I like it when things get bent out of shape and weird. Also, Stein executed the first well done scissor kick I’d seen in awhile. I was pretty taken with their set that I ended up buying their latest album, Echo Kids (Fat Possum), afterward.

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Lots more photos here. Success!