The Black Lips, known for their trippy-psychedelic/country/punk, as well as their live antics, stopped off in Austin at Emo’s outside stage on February 23. I decided to make the trip, despite having seen them before, because the live music scene had been pretty dead as of late. So I packed up and headed to town for a night of fun and loud music – and that’s exactly what I got.

First up were the Strange Boys, an Austin based band comprised of what looked to be some boyish youths with the most terribly sunken eyes you can imagine. The sound was twangy 60’s blues with a psychedelic folk twist in the form of the wavering strained vocals from lead singer Ryan Sambol. I won’t lie: his voice was grating and unpleasant to hear. The music and the energy from Sambol and drummer Matt Hammer (is there a better name for a drummer?) were great but every time Sambol tried to sing, one couldn’t help but wish the mic would cut out or Sambol would turn around and laugh at the little trick he’d played on us and then bust out a perfect Lou Reed to compliment the songs. But alas, no such luck.

As the Strange Boys cleared the stage I pushed up to the front to fully experience local faves White Denim when they took the stage. If you’ve never had the chance to see White Denim live, you owe it to yourself to take the trip. The boys aren’t as tight live as they are on record, but the sheer amount of energy pouring out of them is enough to turn any complacent fan into a true believer. White Denim play loud, soulful rock music reminiscent of other great trios, such as Cream and The Jimi Hendrix Experience. I can hardly put into words the rush of seeing them perform. There are moments of sheer transcendence as the drums pound, bass throbs, and the guitar wails when the band is just hitting on all cylinders. And then there are moments where you can feel the song falling apart in front of you. Every member grabs his mic stand and madly sways around the stage screaming with all his might the most bizarrely soulful lyrics (see “Darksided Computer Mouth”). Then, without missing a beat, they jump back into the song faster and louder than they had left it. White Denim barreled their way through their set leaving every last ounce of themselves on the stage; I’m surprised they had the energy to move their equipment off.

Though White Denim may have had the most energetic stage presence, they had sadly failed to get the audience to move and hardly anyone but themselves had broken a sweat. I, on the other hand, was exhausted, so I went to grab refreshments. This left me in the back as The Black Lips took the stage, a sorry place to be. The Black Lips immediately jumped into material from their latest album, “Good Bad Not Evil,” and the front went ballistic. The back of the room, however, stood still, arms crossed, almost afraid to move, even during the band’s universally recognized hit, “O Katrina!” After half of a set of watching the Lips raucously play their unique brand of self-described “flower punk” (heavy on the punk aspect when they are live), barely able to move a muscle for fear of being ostracized, I had had enough. Just as The Black Lips counted off “Bad Kids,” a bouncy song dedicated to the crowd, I grabbed onto the nearest bouncing drunk making her way to the front and managed to squeeze my way up to the stage. Here, the energy from the crowd finally matched the energy from the Lips. Jostling, stomping, pushing, and beer throwing were prevalent in this small area near the front. This is how one should experience a band like the Black Lips; with other sweaty, dirty “Bad Kids.”

The Black Lips have recently cleaned up their live act quite a bit. If you’ve read anything about them, you’ve probably heard of bodily fluids and other such heinous acts being performed by the band members. Recently, however, the boys have decided to simply play the music with all of the raw energy they always have, and let it speak for itself. This seems to work fairly well, though it loses that anticipation of the unexpected that so caught me the first time I saw them live. The Black Lips kept the energy up for most of the night, rarely slowing down tempo or letting between-song moments last too long. Ending the night with a three song encore of old favorites (including a personal fave, “Everybody’s Doing It”), the Lips finally released their hold over the crowd to allow the sweat/beer drenched mass to pour out to 6th Street. Moral of the story: If you catch yourself standing still at a Black Lips concert, you’re not in the right place.

- Review by James Hoelscher