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| Breech Release Party Spectacle for "Tarnish & Undress" |
| band: Breech |
| Album: Concert Revew |
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BREECH RELEASE PARTY SPECTACLE FOR
"TARNISH & UNDRESS"
 
"And if there is one hellish, truly accursed thing in our time, it is our artistic dallying with forms, instead of being like victims burnt at the stake, signaling through the flames." ~ Antonin Artaud
"Those who really desire to attain an independence, have only set their minds upon it, and adopt the proper means, as they do in regard to any other object which they wish to accomplish, and the thing is easily done."
~ P.T. Barnum
Billed as machetes, chaos, art, fire, and mayhem, Breech delivered on all promises at the Lounge Theatre on October 10, 2007 for the christening of their "Tarnish and Undress" CD. Not included in the brief description were cookies, brownies, $3 beers, a fine musical opener in Val Esway & El Mirage, a touch of class, the atmosphere of a family gathering, a Barrett Tripp Rockumentary on the making of the music, new friends to be made, and music I was happy to buy without asking for a freebie—and that's just crazy considering the unreasonable demands my landlord is wont to make on me once a month.
The typical CD release "party" is an attenuated hour at an established club between two unrelated bands. This spectacle and event is part of what makes Breech matter and is indicative of the imagination they bring to their music. This event takes the cake and serves it too with hostess Missy cutting and delivering, after providing heaping serving of aggressively sexual, deeply felt, cathartic, honest, dark and vital songs to a hooting hollering deeply invested audience of friends and lucky visitors.
The assembly line CD release party is short, controlled and common. Breech had the sense to jump ship on this processed product, to rent the Lounge Theater comedy and theater venue, sell the music at full price and the beer at a discount, and give Orpheus is due with a little spectacle for folks in their raised and padded seats four hours of friends, damn fine cookies, living room warmth, and the unfamiliar joy of building anticipation toward a concert that actually matters with intelligent, unvarnished rock with all with its vital sexual energy that hasn't been stepped on, cut or diluted. If that sounds like hyperbole, take this as a case in point. After eye surgery—both eyes—Missy refused to cancel a performance. She sang blind with sunglasses on against doctors orders! There are pictures in the documentary to prove it. That passion makes her the one wild animal in the room it isn't safe to ignor.
Missy Gibson is the undisputed focus of this band, a force of nature, unpredictable and dangerous with a microphone in her hand. The doc shown early in the evening shows Missy nine months pregnant flipping off the camera next to a van with Missy narrating that Mike Flanagan kept the band alive that month telling her she needed to get into the studio. Missy the mother refused cookies at Kulak's with the message: "I don't let my child eat sugar yet." Missy is a modern powerful woman responsible to her own without leaving the chaos and mayhem of rock behind. Mike narrates in the doc that Missy gets a little snippy when she needs to perform. That sex, sweat and abandon Missy brings to a performance sets her right and makes her a better Mom, so I believe. At the Lounge Theater a lovely patron opened her legs when Missy walked mic in hand to the audience singing the encore "Holiday" with admirable abandon, leaving room for the Divine M to lunge across her and sing accusing, disarming and a little naughty to the man in the third row a wordless howl from that gut nestled as it was against a willing fan. After the concert I spoke with the woman who acknowledged that when Missy approached she knew to spread her legs and lean back for that astonishing moment. Next concert that seat may sell for a quite a bounty.
Mike Flanagan has an inventive music style that drives a song and is capable of surprise, a musician worthy of respect, adding that musical magic on multiple instruments on the CD and all that matters on keyboard and hollow body electric guitar in performance. Missy's intensity with a mic in her hand manages to hurl a fireball of sensual and sexual energy through the darkest of stories told in song, she is naughty with a mic or mic stand and sings directly between the eyes with an stare to each listener turn and turn about. She makes every story rock 'n' roll with passion demanding attention. Her listed "influences" are accurate enough: "PJ Harvey, Cowboy Junkies, Lotte Lenya, the sounds of a heart unraveling." She thanked a double score of contributors to the album and the event with all the heart of a host, between lusty songs and murder ballads delivered with that performance energy that amounts to shared catharsis, anarchy, and inspired choice all delivered in performance sex and a dangerous focus demanding all conscious attention.
For the deaf or those who like to watch their music Missy is a visual that is all rock 'n' roll. There's that dirty secret look with the mic or mic stand strategically placed where the music maybe comes from, an unflinching stare into the soul of the audience with her head extended, and plenty of unpredicted contact with willing fans steadying her walk up the stairs. Missy buried her head in the chest of one man while belting the song from beneath a tangle of pigtails lost to the intensity. There's also Missy with eight inch cymbals crashing over her pigtails and the look of divine decadence for the classic Schubert Waltz gone Kurt Weil disintegrating into chaos rocker. She is that rare singer who demands and gets every eye, lives for the release of performance, and notices every eye in the room. I hear tell she's shouted down cell phones, and in this performance she called out the name of a friend who felt the call of nature between songs, "So, it's like that is it?!" The entire audience is put on the spot with her delivery of this music. If you came to network, you may leave chastised! This music is all that matters that moment, and don't you dare think otherwise. Mike Flanagan on lead guitar, keyboard and backing and occasional solo vocal leaves the stage in a sweat, Whitney Lockert on rhythm guitar and keyboard looks like Rick Springfield playing rock, Mike Sattin is connected, supportive and fun to watch on bass, and Greg! on drums is a welcome imaginative sound and visual with his marching band kick drum marked "San Fernando Valley Youth Band" adding to the look and feel of the band.
Vincent Wolf & The Devil's Plaything ate fire and walked on machetes…
This is a band willing to hold bake sales to create what the biz don't choose to fund. I won a door prize for answering Jeff Favre's question: "How much money did Breech raised from bake sales to fund the 'Apron Strings' album?" Answer: $7,000. Stole that answer from a conversation in the lobby, but I took the prize without explanation or apology. The prize: The DVD "Black Fist" a kung fu movie—original, not a copy. There were plenty of prizes. Jeff's MC effort was way cool, and made the event that much more fun. "Freak show" performers Vincent Wolf & The Devil's Plaything walked on knives and ate fire. Oakland's Val Esway & El Mirage performed real fine songs as an opener. Bought their CD! Great line in Val's song: "I'll pretend to believe, and you pretend not to leave." The recently married 18th bassist for Breech was presented with the "when drunk and we needed a bass" party instrument signed by most everyone who attended his wedding. It was a family thing this event—a whole lotta' talented believers in that audience, and not an A&R man in attendance.
Ladies and gentlemen behold a miracle: An event and spectacle to celebrate a CD release in Los Angeles.
 "Puking Rainbows" by Carol Powell
Cover artist Carol Powell's work was on display with the artist in attendance. These cloth art objects, including the large original construction shown on the album, were available to be seen and purchased at the event. Her work has a homespun, expansive, dreamlike quality that fits the band, and speaks for itself.
More of her artwork, dolls and astonishing titles can be found at carolpowell.net.
BREECH:
Missy Gibson (Vocals)
Mike Flanagan (Guitar & Keyboard)
Whitney Lockert (Guitar/Keys/Vox)
Mike Sattin (Bass)
Greg Berella (Drums)
THE PICTURE BELOW IS LINKED TO THE BREECH MYSPACE
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