BEWARE THE DANGERS OF A GHOST SCORPION – LIVE

By Rick Fleck

Beware the Dangers of a Ghost Scorpion, Children of The Flaming Wheel and Pink Lids live at Faces Brewing Co. – 4/12/24

When I moved to Boston from Austin in the summer of 1988, my first apartment was in the suburban neighborhood of Malden. Malden was, at the time, a once proud working-class city that was sadly, and noticeably, down on its luck. When you were asked where you lived and replied Malden, you were often given a sympathetic look.

So last year, when I saw a concert listing that I was interested in and found out that it was being held in Malden, I was quite surprised. I hadn’t been back in more than a decade. When I arrived the night of the show, I was taken aback by what I saw; a thriving, energized downtown full of young people out for the
night. There were students and professionals, townies and commuters, and people from the neighboring ‘burbs, all there for the bustling bars, restaurants and clubs.

There was also Faces Brewing Co — a restaurant, bar and concert venue — in the stately old First National Bank Building on Pleasant Street, notable as the site of the nation’s first armed bank robbery in 1863. That was my destination. Across the street from Faces, pouring pints of Guinness to an eager crowd, was the Irish pub, Hugh O’Neill’s. And the street was loaded with Chinese and Southeast Asian restaurants including Pho Bistro, Ming’s and Go Chi, to name a few. The place was simply buzzing with activity.

Now here I was a year later, coming back to Faces for a triple bill that had opener Pink Lids, Children of The Flaming Wheel, and closer Beware the Dangers of a Ghost Scorpion. It was a Friday night and the restaurant-side of the venue was packed with people eating, drinking, and watching the Sox. The backroom was packed with concert attendees.

Wareham, Ma band Pink Lids was a song or two into their set by the time I got there. Lead singer/guitarist/keyboard player Amber Lawson was wailing away on her guitar and jumping around with manic punk energy as the band surged around her. The song they were playing was on the setlist as “Improv.” Improv or not, it was rockin’ and made me rue the fact that I was late to the show. There was another song later on the setlist titled “Nameless New Song.” This was another energetic number that the crowd responded enthusiastically to.

Photos Rick Fleck

Pink Lids is a work in progress in the best possible way. They feature a revamped line-up with stellar musicians including Zach Flanigan on bass, Ellis Roundy on keys and guitar, and Matt Pantanella on drums. They’re finding their feet, their sound, and their personality as a group, and we were lucky enough to be along for the ride. This was their last show of a short East Coast tour and the band was dialed into each other from weeks together on the road.

Lawson looks like Joan Jett and Betty Page somehow had a kid. Then the girl grew up hanging around with Wednesday Addams, the two of them listening to Iggy Pop albums, seeing riot grrrl shows, and skipping school together. Lawson played with the energy and grit of Jett’s first band, The Runaways, the comparison evident in the band’s sound as well. Sometimes bordering on noise rock, Pink Lids had plenty of melody and hooks to balance everything out.

At times I was reminded of the rawer, earlier side of the B-52’s and of one of my favorite bands of late, The Dollyrots. Pink Lids could be a go-go band in a Rob Zombie haunted house. Songs like “Small Talk” and “Junky Garden” married alt/indie rock with punk and what it produced was exciting and fresh.

The show came to an end too quickly with “Eye Catching Silver.” Pink Lids went out on a frenetic high note, and again, the crowd was loud and enthused. Pink Lids is a band I would love to see as a headliner so I could experience more of their songs live. Maybe sometime soon in a music venue near you or me. And I promise I’ll be there on time.

As a concert reviewer, DJ, and all-around music junkie, I like to put bands into their proper “genre” boxes, satisfying my general need for order in the universe. Never has a band more confounded me than Boston’s Children of the Flaming Wheel (COTFW). I’m not even sure where to start.

There were plenty of heavy power chords, prog rock keys, and a lead singer, Niani Campbell, with a powerful and expressive voice. Their Bandcamp page self-describes them as “galapagogo garage punk for the freakazoids.” And I certainly can’t argue with that. The word “freakazoid” brings to mind the Parliament-Funkadelic music collective, especially the heavier amalgamation of Funkadelic, and it makes perfect sense.

COTFW kicked off their set with “No Depo,” the lead track from their album Mother Planet. The songs were lean, spare and powerful, played by band members Vincent Xtaino, Nicholas G. Ward, and Joseph Marrett. The length of many of them, resembled the length of your average surf rock song, clocking in between 2-3 minutes. The songs would start with a bang and end abruptly, sandwiched with power and energy.

There were touches of the harder edged 1960s psychedelic bands and some of the trippier hard rock bands of the early 70s, including the 13th Floor Elevators, The Electric Prunes, Dust, and Captain Beyond. But unlike these bands, COTFW is fronted by a full-voiced female singer who has both power and soul at her disposal. At times, the rest of the band and Campbell seemed like an odd mix. How did they find each other and come up with this particular, color-outside-the-lines sound?

There was a punkier side to the sound as well, which fit perfectly with the shorter song lengths and lack of extended instrumental solos. Campbell, at times, exhibited an I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude ala Johnny Rotten. Was it tongue-in-cheek? I caught her smirking and the audience got an occasional good laugh as well. Sonically, staying in the punk rock playground, I was also reminded of both early X and the Bush Tetras (think “Too Many Creeps” and their 1995 Boom in the Night LP).

I still don’t think I’m giving you a neatly wrapped description of their sound. It’s just impossible to nail down. I can reference various other bands, but they inevitably only harken to one small piece of the COTFW sound. At one point I wrote in my notes, “rhythm and doom.” There was a slow heavy doom-metal element to some of their songs, albeit with very un-doom like vocals.

I believe their own aforementioned Bandcamp description is the best. Regardless, in the end, what difference does it make? They’re an intriguing band to see and they take you down a musical path that is far less trodden than most and yet utterly beguiling.

I am a big surf music fan. I was born in 1963 during surf rock’s chart topping first wave. Artists like Dick Dale and bands like The Ventures, Surfaris, and the Challengers ushered in this exciting new sound of instrumental music that, even in landlocked Pittsburgh, captivated me. I was living in Austin during surf rock’s 3rd wave and got to see bands like Man or Astro-man?, Laika & The Cosmonauts, and Los Straitjackets, as they regularly passed thru town.

I came to Faces to see the headliner, Boston’s surf rock powerhouse Beware the Dangers of a Ghost Scorpion (BTDOAGS). Sometimes labelled as “horror surf,” I think they range beyond that categorization, although when they’re in that horror surf groove, they fit right in with bands like Satan’s Pilgrims and the legendary The Ghastly Ones.

Wearing matching scorpion t-shirts with the bottom half of their faces covered by bandanas, they made a knowing nod to the surf rock tradition of bands in costume. There were also no microphones to be seen anywhere on the stage. This was not only going to be instrumental surf, but there wouldn’t be any stage banter either. Fine by me.

Let me introduce the band. BTDOAGS are Vince Vance Delambre and Professor Coyote Science on guitars, Naughty Bobby the Bitchin’ Witch Boy on bass, and Glotch on drums. I have no reason to believe these are not the names found on their birth certificates.

What BTDOAGS delivered for the next 16 songs was a loving tribute to the original surf rock sound of the early 1960s, combined with the more produced, polished and professional sound of surf’s 3rd wave, brought kicking and screaming into the 2020s as its own beautifully mutated beast.

“The Hydromancer” launched itself with a thunderous and racing start, never slowing up until it reached the finish line. “Cateye Glasses” began with a barrage of lightning fast tremelo picking and then incorporated killer old-school surf guitar licks. The song also included mini solos for each member. “The Nameless One” had a slower pace reminiscent of Southern Culture on the Skids’ crowd favorite “Camel Walk.” (Rick Miller of the SCOTS can play killer surf guitar, BTW.)

“Dreadful Dreck” conjured up a chase scene in a 1960s teen haunted house movie. “Black Wine” is the soundtrack to your Halloween party. The main riff in “Full of Blood” brought to mind Johnny Rivers’ “Secret Agent Man” and left me with an ear to ear grin.

The show continued on like a hearse without breaks rolling down a steep hill. “Desmadontinae” had a bolero tempo and a “Miserlou” vibe, evoking a Sergio Leone spaghetti Western. I wonder what the song might sound like with some background singing like the vocals heard in Ennio Morricone’s “The Ecstasy of Gold.” Many don’t know this, but Dick Dale, “The King of the Surf Guitar,” who brought his version of the Lebanese folk song “Miserlou” to the public, was born in Boston in 1937.

It should be of no surprise to anyone that with credentials of this magnitude, such a remarkably talented band as BTDOAGS has arisen from The Hub. The night ended with “Theme From Acid Chalet Pt III,” and in surf rock tradition, it was played full tilt with no restraints, the crowd sweaty, dancing and punching the air.

There are some really good Boston surf rock bands out there, e.g. The Electric Heaters, Tsunami of Sound, and The Weisstronauts, but there could and should be more. BTDOAGS is a surf rock monster. They could take this Beantown surf rock show on the road and tour the states. They would crush it in surf rock mad places like L.A., Austin, and NYC. I would love to see how they would go over in surf-crazy Mexico City. New England needs more surf rock, from locals and touring acts. Go see these guys, get your mind blown, get inspired, and start your own horror surf band!

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