REVERBfest at The Bit Saloon

Emeralds, Guns & Rossetti, the Valkyries ...

MIDNIGHTDragstrip RiotKnuck, the frontman for DragStrip Riot, told Tacoma's Weekly Volcano that his band was "like rockabilly that got older, pissed off, and turned into cowpunk." In other words, this is music made by dudes who are just as comfortable under the hood of a classic Chevy as they are in front of an amp. DragStrip Riot's songs are pure high-octane rock 'n' roll, like Bo Diddley backed by Social Distortion. Their 2003 self-titled album was produced by Jack Endino, a guy who knows a thing or two about producing loud bands. The result is a greasy drag race of an album, one that will make you think you've spilled cigarettes and gasoline into your CD player. And live, they have the capacity to burn your face. Approaching the club during their set, you'd think someone was revving a motorcycle inside. BRIAN J. BARR11 p.m.Neon NightsSeattle trio Neon Nights pulls off the sweet trick of simultaneously conjuring the sounds of a Sunset Strip rock den and a NYC Lower East Side hardcore crust-hole, both circa 1987. The former comes courtesy of rippin' riffs loud, thick, dirty, and devil-horned, and solos nimble and flashy—guitarwork that reeks beautifully of Schlitz, burning rubber, Ace Frehley sweat, and raw groupie sex. The latter comes mainly from frontman Lou Molitch's unhinged shrieks—a hair-on-fire, I'm-being-chased-by-a-pack-of-demonhounds delivery reminiscent of another Lou (Koller, of Sick of It All), cut with a smidgen of Sam Kinison. And Neon Nights hammers its crowds with tunes like "Born to Die Hard" ("Knowin' nothin' but to keep keepin' on/For the wine, the women, and the song/Gonna give it all I got, all I got 'til it's gone") and "Party Song" ("It's a party, let's party!/Hey, hey, hey, hey...yeaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!") with nary a trace of irony or calculated retroism. These guys really seem to live it. You may want to as well. MICHAEL ALAN GOLDBERG10 p.m.The ValkyriesGet excited, ladies 'n' gents: the Valkyries, Seattle's most badass all-female rock band, have finished recording their first full-length album. Stevie's hoarse, rattly shriek is decidedly unpretty; it sounds like the girl smokes two packs a day, and that's exactly what you want from a furious, take-no-prisoners punk institution like this one. Plus, there's nothing sexier than a tough chick who doesn't take shit and would've beat you up in junior high for looking at her wrong. Except I would've only been staring at her because I was shy and probably creepy and had a crush. And she would have totally beat the piss out of me for it. In fact, I still sort of want this to happen.I mean, when she sings, "You talked your shit all night/You're stinking up the room" in "Let's Fight," screaming, "Fuck you, let's fight!", it makes me almost wanna get beat up. Just so long as she, Casey Chaos, Ginnie the Kid, or Rob N' Riot (hah! that's brilliant) are the ones delivering the pain, I'd wear my wounds proudly. SARA BRICKNER9 p.m.Guns & RossettiGuns & Rossetti make it clear in the headline of their MySpace page: "Not a Guns N' Roses tribute, move along now..." And when detailing what they sound like, they're equally ornery: "none of the piss poor shit they're trying to peddle as rock n roll music these days." Led by frontman (and hilarious former 107.7 The End DJ) Dick Rossetti, the quartet's ratty, crunchy garage-punk is also pretty cantankerous and irreverent, as it should be. With snarling and snotty songs like "Sis Boom Bah" and "Douchebag Boyfriend," G&R sound like they were hatched at CBGB circa 1977, and would've been perfect on a bill with the Damned, Richard Hell & the Voidoids, and Stiff Little Fingers. Have a blast at this show, but don't holler for "Welcome to the Jungle"—we can't guarantee your safety. MAG8 p.m.EmeraldsHow long will it be before our very own Emeralds are signed to a label like Kemado or Holy Mountain? They have the essential mix of proggy exploration, classic hard-rock swagger, and proto-metal heaviness. Their longhair of a singer is unafraid to wail, at times approaching the glorious vocal freakouts of Ethan Miller of Comets on Fire. And in true metal fashion, their guitarist breaks from riffs to show off some of his flashier licks. Nothing about their jams, thankfully, seems too calculated. It just seems like music made by guys who spent a lot of time smoking joints while listening to Hawkwind and Thin Lizzy. As happens when weed is smoked and Thin Lizzy is listened to, somebody winds up declaring: "Dudes! Let's just form our own band and fuckin' rock!" And so they do. BJB7 p.m.BacchusWhile Seattle has arguably always been a rock-oriented town, the metal and harder end of the spectrum has actually had a rough go of it since the grungequake aftershocks subsided. A preponderance of Neanderthal nü metal and the viral popularity of so-called Cookie Monster vocals has made the metal scene more laughable than lauded for quite some time, but all that has been changing dramatically over the past couple of years. Smart, progressive, and powerful bands like Lozen, Helms Alee, and Bacchus are cultivating strong followings among local music fans who appreciate the latest wave of classically influenced yet forward-thinking national acts like The Sword, Pelican, Isis, and Mastodon. "There's definitely been a resurgence of people getting into the harder rock," says Jeff Galegher, guitarist and co-vocalist for Bacchus. Bacchus has been a band for nearly a decade, but is just now finally finding a broader audience. The trio's influences range from Blue Cheer and Kyuss to Hüsker Dü and Parliament, and that diversity synthesizes nicely into a thundering and impressively melodic blend of stoner-rock riffage and bottom-heavy bass. HANNAH LEVIN6 p.m.KEGLike a glam-metal Hasil Adkins, KEG is a one-man band. A thrashy, bare-essentials punk-glam sideshow, KEG—whose real name is Kris Kegley (how amazing is that?!?)—looks like the kind of dude who went to the Sunset Strip in '87 hoping to make it big, only to leave saying: "Well, fuck that place, man, I'll just start my own band!" With his long hair, black denim jeans, black denim vest, and bandanas tied around his biceps, he could pass for Bret Michaels of Poison. He takes the stage as a born entertainer, playing Misfits covers and his originals, which despite their roughness are actually pretty good. Who said arena rock required an arena? BJB

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