THE JESUS LIZARD

Emo's, January 16

Austin old school. And for The Jesus Lizard, a line reaching down the block to the Blue Flamingo (old school closed). Most were still out there when the Chicago-based quartet entered through the side door of the club's downstairs stage, the only refuge in an ocean of people. A cheer went up, the room bracing for the assault about to begin and the musicians looking casually menacing.

"Hi," said David Yow. "We're Poi Dog Pondering." And so it began, hard, David Wm. Sims' basslines clenching like muscle spasms - painful, pulsing, straining. So hard. Hit it again, you bastard. And Duane Denison's angular guitar riffs, grinding across basslines while some new drummer pounds away. And Yow, looking like his usual serial killer self, hair quickly soaked and shirt gone. Screaming like a maniac. "Lies, placidyls, set up a camera to record your own death," comes into focus at one point, "Blue Shot" from the band's Shot. That's Yow, some criminally insane sociopath stalking the audience, leaping into it at every turn. It's his form of assault, yet the crowd catches him with loving arms, Yow twisting and writhing while the mike cord curls around him like a vine. No sooner is he spit back up on stage than he leaps off it again.

The band, meanwhile, keeps hammering away, Denison's slide guitar on "Thumbscrews" coming off like the Devil wielding an industrial table saw. "This one's for Glen Taylor," says Yow, remembering the Dicks' bassist (old school deceased) midway through the band's 45-minute main set. The pace slows for three minutes - a virtual ballad. "Thanks to Starfish and Thighmaster, goodnight" says Yow the blink of an eye later. No! Don't stop, please. Come back.

They do, playing another 45-minute set - plugging the need, filling the hole. Midway through, Yow snarls and gives the audience the finger - a scowl to go along with it.

In response, off towards the back entrance, someone touches index finger to thumb and gives Yow the "A-Okay" sign. Yow sees it, stops, gives a dreamy smile, and leaps off the stage. Swimming towards the door, Yow's feet finally hit pavement and he finds himself in the arms of Brett Bradford, guitarist for Sangre de Toro. Along with Yow, Sims, and drummer Rey Washam, Bradford was Scratch Acid (old school best). Grinning and hugging like Christmas morning, Bradford, Yow, and Billy Pringle enjoy a moment. Fifteen years ago, this moment was probably enjoyed at the Cave Club. Old school. The Greatest Gift. - Raoul Hernandez