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By Dave Miller

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It wasn’t the most conducive night to go to a concert. Not only was it a cold night, but a new job has me waking up at 6:45 a.m. these days. Truth be told, I felt more like going to bed than going out. However, I kept an eye on the clock as show time began to approach. I wasn’t saying yes, but I wasn’t saying no either. My heart was saying head out, while my body was saying, “Oh, baby, please don’t go.” After I wolfed down a late dinner and took another look at the clock, it was time to make a decision. Should I stay or should I go?

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I quickly changed out of my work clothes, dashed out the door and jumped in my car. Like a magnet, the power of rock and roll pulled me to Liar’s Club, located on a barren block of Fullerton just east of the bridge over the Chicago River between Damen and Ashland. The area was so dark and desolate that I missed the place at first before another drive-by found a band loading its gear. It must be the place, I thought, though the joint didn’t look very inviting. Heck, it didn’t even look open. But I left the comfort of my warm car and ventured into the cold night. When I came to the right address, I peeked into the hazy window and saw dim lighting in the distance so I opened the door.

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The inside wasn’t much brighter, but this was definitely the place. The dive has a darkly exciting vibe

to it even though it was nearly empty. A lonely doorman eyed me and the bartender quickly served me a beer as I joined the other three people sitting at the bar. Oddball Kiss paraphernalia was scattered throughout the place including a phone that rings “Rock and Roll All Night.” A sign behind the bar pictured the Man in Black flipping the bird, noting terms were “Cash Only.” A naked lady glow-lamp by the register demanded attention. The lone TV in the place played old “Midnight Special” episodes featuring the likes of Tammy Wynette and George Jones, Anne Murray and Dr. Hook. A rock and punk mix filled the narrow room. In the back, I saw a couple familiar musicians onstage fiddling with their gear. At first I thought I may have showed up too late to see them, but then realized they were setting up. I early. Actually more like the band was behind, but whatever. I wasn’t going anywhere. I knew what could come next.    

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Finally, at a few minutes past 10 p.m., the four musicians took the stage, for a soundcheck. They’re the kind of band that can be exciting even when they’re only warming up, and true to form that was the case again. Impatient by the usual soundcheck tedium, the leader of the pack couldn’t wait any longer. “Fuck it,” she said, knowing the bar’s attention was on the stage. “Don’t think we’re starting because we’re playing a song because we’re not.” The band then ripped through a number, grabbing the song and everyone’s attention by the throat. Then just like that, it was over, and they left the stage to get ready for the show. Meanwhile, a guy at the bar tore into the soundman, who looked like he could have been Iggy Pop’s nephew, for, I kid you not, how the sound was during soundcheck. The two had a heated exchange. That, apparently, is how tough the Liar’s Club crowd can be.

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Add it up and it was the perfect place to see a combustible band rock on a small stage, and this band seemed to know it, even through the dream-like vibe of playing a 100-capacity room that was a third full. “Hello, Chicago!” the lead singer greeted the faithful a few minutes before 11 p.m. Then she sang like her life depended on it as the band blitzed their way hard through the opener. The second song saw both guitarists add their sweet backing vocals during their no-nonsense playing as the band attacked it with a vengeance yet showed just enough restraint to create enough tension before release. All songs featured incredible, versatile, interesting and, ultimately, powerful drumming, which seemed to spur the band more than usual on the small stage. “The best female drummer in the world” was how she was introduced by her bandmates before they dedicated a song to her.

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The sound was cranked wonderfully high to match the performance onstage. The lead-singing bassist, one of the most interesting and in-the-moment frontmen I’ve seen in a long time, was on top of her game, her vocals matching the drumming behind her. Someone mentioned the sound was too loud. “Too loud,” she asked rhetorically. “Take your pants off!” Sports somehow came up, but didn’t stay on the topic for long. “Bears, beers,” she said. By the end of the night, she was playing in the crowd.

Not many people know it yet, but this is a great band. It was good for these ears to hear confirmation for the first time that the band knows it, too. “You’re not going to see this every Tuesday night at Liar’s Club,” the lead singer proclaimed late in the set. Giving the drummer some was another sign that they know they’ve got top chops. The tour-de-force performance sped by in a less-than-an-hour blur.       

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As my favorite rocker wrote when he was a skinny kid before many people knew him, “Show a little faith, there’s magic in the night.” Not many bands could have pulled me out of the house on this night, but The Wanton Looks are one of them. They rewarded me with one of the best shows of the year. 

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The setlist:

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Get Thru to You
Worst Side of Me
Forget You
All Your Fault
Come On
Used and Abused
Demons
Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah
86 Me
Neverending
Electromagnetic Force
I Wanna See You Again

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Start: 10:54 p.m./Finish: 11:40 p.m.
Totals: 12 songs, 46 minutes

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