Also posessing an increasingly distinctive sound are My Ruin, the latest and most promising vehicle for charismatic shouter Tairrie B. Having first stomped onto the scene at the helm of Manhole, who turned into Tura Satana, Tairrie has developed her sound and taken a massive leap forward with 'Speak and Destroy', her first album under the new guise.
Although troubled by first night nerves, tonight's show is an onslaught of power and frayed emotions. For the first time, Tairrie is expressing more than just female aggression and outrage. Now she can mix a whole gamut of emotions into her music, varying her output from the tried and trusted scream-fests to spoken word numbers and even, gulp, actual singing.
Onstage, she's hard to resist. Shaking, clawing at herself, falling to her knees, making eye contact with just about anyone brave enough, Tairrie B is undoubtably a worthy star. 'Sychophant', 'Blasphemous Girl', and 'Sick With It' are torn open, revealing the raw and pulsing emotions beneath. IT's Tairrie's dangerous cocktail of defiance and vunerability that makes it all seem so damn real.
'Luna' and 'Flux' kick like mules, but in many ways it shte more experimental, moodier pices such as 'Close Your Eyes' and 'Absolution' that are most interesting, establishing My Ruin's genuine distinction fro any previous Tairrie project. And for the first time, the frontwoman isn't the only focal point onstage. Guitarist Melanie Makaiwi, and bassist Megan Mattox are both beguiling figures also. Marcelo Palomino, retained from Tura Satana, remains a total powerhouse on the drums.
During the encore, there is a keenly felt tribute to Snot frontman Lynn Strait, who was sadly killed in a car accident last year. Strait had contributed to the Manhole album in 1996 and remained a close confidante of the band until his death. Tairrie B sheds tears as she describes him, but that's how it is with her. Honesty is both her finest quality and greates weakness. On this occassion, everyone loves her for it.
Certainly one of the hardest-touring bands in the country, Breed 77 seem to exist only for the lure of the road. Tonight, performing at an unhelpfully early hour, their muscle-bound sound is posessed of a style that is becoming increasingly distinctive. As usual, they turn plenty of heads from the bar. A shining example of perserverance.