Dropkick Murphys fans rocked out in Clifton Park on Friday as the niche hit Celtic punk band played at its loudest and fiercest to a highly appreciative (although not terribly discerning) audience. The crowd of die-hard fans was certainly having fun—that is, if the energy evident in the mosh pits was any indication—but as an impartial listener, I found that the concert had very poor sound quality and a set that dragged on for far too long, making the headlining group the rather ironic downside of the night. In an odd turn of events, I actually walked away from this concert far more impressed with the supporting bands than with Dropkick Murphys.
The opening act of the evening was Rat City Riot, a San Diego punk rock outfit with a lot of energy and sometimes even some musical talent. With a short but intense set that got the crowd moving much more than that of a typical opening band, this group displayed a confident live performance that suggested they may be a force to be reckoned with in the future. The music also made obvious the singularly aggressive personality types that are often drawn to Dropkick Murphys’ shows, as a significant number of heavily-tattooed men in kilts were seen knocking each other around in some rather poorly attended mosh sessions which thrived regardless of whether music was actually playing at the moment.
Everybody Out! played second, with a performance that left this writer unusually impressed. A recent amalgamation of ex-Dropkick Murphys guitarist Rick Barton and Dead Pets vocalist Todd Sweeney, this band succeeded in jamming together the best aspects of Operation Ivy, Rancid, and Flogging Molly in a hybrid breed of punk that was hard to pinpoint but highly exciting nonetheless in today’s clichéd scene. Sweeney’s vocal performance was among the most energetic I have ever seen, with some obvious John Feldmann influence evident as he repeatedly stage dove while continuing to belt out vocal assaults. Later, he was seen performing outrageous dance moves in the crowd and occasionally reprising his crowd surfing talent, once resulting in him being dropped on his head (fortunately, he got up quickly and laughed off the injury).
Danish band Horrorpops played next, with its uniquely retro pop-punk/psychobilly blend that combines with outrageous dance routines to create a splendid live act. Patricia Day’s singing was spot on, and the audience mellowed out enough to engage in some dancing of a less violent persuasion, if only for one act.
Then, in a strange twist of fate, the atmosphere was ruined by Boston’s premier Celtic punk rock band that everybody came to see in the first place. The set opened promisingly enough with a mellow track that highlighted the band’s diverse arrangements of pennywhistles, bagpipes and acoustic guitar. After that, things pretty much fell apart—either Al Barr’s microphone was broken or he had completely lost his voice, and he combatted this unfortunate situation by making his hard-edged vocals even rougher than usual, resulting in a disastrous lack of polish in absolutely everything they played. Perhaps its fans were so intoxicated by this point that they didn’t care, or maybe they just didn’t care in the first place, but the be-kilted demographic seemed to be having the time of their lives beating each other up in the pit to the dissonant tones of poorly-played highland pipes (security was seen dragging out at least one of the more hostile concert-goers.) After a set that lasted at least an hour, a limp encore pulled the band onstage for renditions of two more numbers, neither of which were recognizable to the casual listener.
I feel terrible for anybody who came only for the headlining band and missed the vibrant performances that graced the stage early in the evening. Anybody who keeps up with current punk rock should make a point of checking out Rat City Riot and Everybody Out!, but nobody should feel bad about missing an uninspired and not-very-tuneful performance by Dropkick Murphys.
