The Scars
The Rocks
Richmond, VA
By Jillian Abbene
(SugarBuzz Wash DC/Richmond)
SugarBuzz Magazine
Hmf. Boston has homespun yet another band paying homage to the intoxicating wasteland of fun. The Scars deliver a humorous sincerity sending the street punk message of inebriated tip-of-the-hat, with a beer in a swaggered hand, a salute, all in smirked-drunken defiance.
It’s no wonder that David Wells, the lead vocalist looks relaxed on stage. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that when work is fun, it looks effortless. With his baseball cap firmly planted sideways on his head, the set is opened with, ‘Look Around.’ Instantly, David revokes the same essence of a misrepresented Bruce Springsteen in his look and style. Soaked in alcoholic rasps on the same vein as Mike Ness, there is a romantized dirty-American theme that is simple, gritty, yet melodic.
‘Take It As It Comes,’ surges in palpitated cadence. Dave is especially gravelly in leads of melody above the punctuated ganged-chorus that slightly nicks the same inflicted style of Social-D. A humorous line, ‘hanging out drinking labels for free,’ is a catchy repeat about a Boston frequent hang-out. This song sparks the set.
‘Gone,’ is a maligned guitar mesh that is slapped between an incredibly catchy M8 and a twiddled riff. Dave is crooning a fitted accapella nestled aside a gang-chorus—giving licensure strictly meant for live participation. The steady beats of drum-ticks follow to a surged ending. The crowd now outside the tent moves in towards the stage.
Changing pace, a surprising cover of Tom Petty’s 1989 hit, ‘I Won’t Back Down,’ breaks with the first verse as the crowd has a brief blank expression. I think they were a bit surprised or perhaps didn’t recognize the song. After all, the average age at The Rocks that night was in their early 20’s. Nevertheless, with the help of Rick, a Richmond local, he throws in vocal support as The Scars chalk out the ensnared faster-tempoed version of this rendition—minus the Tom Petty signature slurry-drawl. Spurring a daring attempt, it was an updated solid punk rock interpretation of a dated rock and roll classic.
‘Never Give Up,’ is one awesome ganged-vocalled comp. Shifting the beginning with an infectious line, “Now I won’t lay down and die,” has a one piss-drunk Rick standing on a metal folding chair, chiming in on the chorus. While croaking out the verse, he suddenly loses his balance and sprawls backwards. As if in slow motion, arms and legs are flailing for balance as the chair collapses underneath, and sending him and the chair crashing to the ground. Although The Scars glance at the sudden commotion, the band members each flash a smirk and grin without an interrupted beat. Witnessing this was very comical—only after I was sure Rick was ok. (I don’t think he could feel a thing!)
Two other stand-out songs, ‘Get Out Of My Face,’ and ‘This Ones For You,’ shows a steady progression of consistency through urgency. ‘Get Out Of My Face,’ has Chris Myhre pulling a guitar intro that repeats between each verse through the song. A longer-noted M8 fades in time for the snotty drunken ending. ‘This Ones For You,’ is fuelled with a harder-driving beat that highlights with exclamation points, “So Let’s…Get...Fucked…Up!” It’s a straight-up enticing rally call for serious drunkenness in catchy balls-out fashion with a, “Fuck You!” at the end. It’s great.
To break the tone up, the set changes to a more somber, melancholic folk-based tune. Chris switches to rhythm strums, and David croons one of the best songs written on their CD. That’s interesting because I usually like the heavier fast-paced tunes comparably. Solitary guitar strums without drum and bass, evoke an emotive component, and then the chorus and solid back-ups echo the verses to follow. After the first verse, the drum and bass breaks, effectively depicting a sense of depravity. “So I came up the crossroads/ Which way I’ll go I could not tell/ I see the crack beneath my feet (Chris echoes crack beneath my feet)/ And put my best foot forward (Chris and Dave croon together)/ Foot in heaven, foot in hell.” The crowd was still, as if hanging in some kind of personal reflective melancholy, but a great way to end the set. Leaving the show, the tune was lingering and playing in my head.
If The Scars continue to spit out solid songs like this first debut CD, I’m sure by demand, there will be another one quickly to follow as they blossom into a solid live band. You can purchase their debut album on www.interpunk.com. However, the live version is always better.