Boss Hog
Rocket Science
@ The Metro, Sydney
October 16, 2000

By my watch, Rocket Science were 12 minutes late coming on stage for their part of the show (advertised as 8:30 to 9:15), but still played a full set despite a half hearted attempt to close them down at the originally-stated finishing time for their set.

No one in the audience seemed the least bit upset by the overrun. On the contrary, they had started off with a much bigger crowd than they got the last time I saw them in the support spot here (for You Am I, almost exactly 12 months ago) and the crowd in front of the stage continued to expand steadily as the set progressed. In fact it looked like they'd succeeded in pulling the largest crowd I've ever seen any opening act attract at the Metro! The airplay their album has been getting may account in part for this, but it still takes a pretty strong musical presence to cause that many punters to break the traditional protocol which requires them to wait disdainfully in the foyer bar until the main act comes on.

After tonight's performance I take back anything and everything I previously have said or may have insinuated about their ability to take off and fly. For a solid 45 minutes they kicked the Metro's collective arse, tearing up the stage and rending the atmosphere asunder by concentrating less on histrionics and more on genuine garage rock, culminating in full on/balls out/take no prisoners versions of "Burn in Hell" and "Jet Lag".

During the break, the roadies only gained back 2 minutes on the published 30 minute change over time, but since for once I was not standing where I could look over the soundman's shoulder and read his copy of the setlist (including "unplanned" encores), I have no idea whether the late start cost the audience any songs out of either band's set.

Rocket Science had set the bar pretty high and at times Boss Hog had a little trouble rising to that standard.

Jon Spencer certainly leaps about with all the energy of a demented skate punk and there's no doubting his ability to play the geetar, but while singer Christina Martinez tries to come across as everybody's fantasy bad girl (and anyone who looks that good in skin tight red leather has got a handy head start in those stakes), through the cracks in the facade there appears to be a wholesome cheerleader peeking out - one who apparently needs glasses as she strained to read the set list at her feet on several occasions and even complained about the typeface, ultimately finding herself left standing alone on the stage when she failed to notice that they had reached the end of the main part of the set and the rest of the band had all retired backstage to wait for those obligatory encores (while a vocal minority began chanting "more... more... more...", one of the clowns standing next to me immediately took up a chant of "typeface... typeface... typeface...").

I should make special mention of drummer Hollis Queens, who at first struck me (fortunately not literally!) as competent without being particularly inspired, but blossomed as the set progressed, seemingly hitting the skins harder and harder with each succeeding song while extending her role from merely keeping the beat to really filling out the band's sound.
- John McPharlin

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