M.O.T.O.

For nearly 30 years, pop-punk rascal Paul Caporino and M.O.T.O. (Masters of the Obvious) have been forging timeless sing-along punk with razor-sharp Buzzcocks- and Hüsker Dü-style riffs and an often-twisted wit that recalls Nick Lowe at his most mischievous. Whether he's offering an ode to post-coital self-aggrandizement ("Well, I just...

By Jay Bennett

July 1, 2010

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For nearly 30 years, pop-punk rascal Paul Caporino and M.O.T.O. (Masters of the Obvious) have been forging timeless sing-along punk with razor-sharp Buzzcocks- and Hüsker Dü-style riffs and an often-twisted wit that recalls Nick Lowe at his most mischievous. Whether he's offering an ode to post-coital self-aggrandizement ("Well, I just had sex and I'm walking down the street / And the chicks can tell") or shrugging off the weight of the world two chords at a time ("Who cares about the starving people that you see in the street each day? / I wanna dance dance dance dance dance to the radio"), Caporino has slowly built an underground following attuned to his off-kilter, good-natured nihilism. Now back in his native New Orleans (and reunited with original M.O.T.O. bandmates Jeff and Mike Tomeny) after almost two decades (and a close-but-no-cigar breakout) as Chicago's distinguished gentleman of the scene, Caporino has returned to relentlessly touring America's smallest rock clubs, selling indelible melodies to anyone willing to be hooked on his feeling.

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