By New Times
By Derek Askey
By Mark Deming
By Serene Dominic
By Jason Keil
By Robrt L. Pela and Amy Silverman
By Jeff Moses
By Serene Dominic
It's a chilly night in early November, but the crowd of kids gathered outside 910 Live in Tempe is feeling plenty warm. It isn't surprising, given that they've spent most of the past hour skanking up a storm to the beats of local ska septet 2 Tone Lizard Kings.
Bathed in a blue and purple glow of stage lighting, the throng of barely legal music fans (a few of which sport porkpie hats and Madness shirts) danced around — elbows thrusting, knees in the air, and feet strutting — in a large circle as the band bounced its way through energetic songs like "Wayo" and "Bail Song."
910 N. McClintock Drive
Tempe, AZ 85281
Category: Bars and Clubs
"Did someone say the ska scene in Arizona isn't so hot?" he says, referencing a widely held misconception that local bands practicing the jumpy, Jamaican-born genre are nonexistent.
"Shut the fuck up!" replies bandmate Gary Bolena.
Though he's only joking, the bassist's expletive-laced jape is justified, considering there are currently as many active ska bands in our fair state (many of whom play at 2TLK's shows) — if not more — than during the genre's last heyday, in the late '90s. Even during those days, when No Doubt and Reel Big Fish were a staple of MTV and ska blasted across the airwaves of defunct station KUKQ, Arizona's scene amounted to roughly three groups (all of which have long since bit the dust): Phoenix's Kongo Shock, Dave's Big Deluxe from Tucson, and Flagstaff's Warsaw.
Speaking of history, the Lizard Kings' choice of venue for their CD release show is somewhat significant. In another lifetime (read: from 1991-2001), 910 Live was known as Boston's, an epicenter for ska shows in the Valley. The aforementioned local acts performed at the club regularly, as did two-tone tastemakers like The Specials and such ska-punk superstars as Skankin' Pickle and Fishbone.
Although Rankin's stage presence is nowhere near as manic as Angelo Moore's during a 1998 gig at the old Boston's (where he literally climbed the walls of the club), the Lizard Kings' singer packs as much power into his performance as the Fishbone frontman. Still, 2TLK saxophonist Dave Siebler says that an off-the-hook atmosphere is inherent to the band and its shows.
"That what's this music is all about. We get off on it when people are getting down, the band is riffing, people are dancing, and everyone is having a good time," Siebler says. "This band is at its best in a live setting with a really raucous crowd."
Ska has instigated both dancing and revelry among the younger masses since its Caribbean origins in the late '50s, when artists like Prince Buster and Clement "Coxsone" Dodd recorded a mix of R&B, calypso, and traditional Jamaican folk. Its frenetic and colorful up-tempo stylings eventually begat reggae and were a hit in dancehalls of the 1960s, when rude boys (impoverished and unemployed street kids clad in black suits) were hired by promoters to disrupt competing shows. Both the genre and its fashion was eventually transplanted to the U.K. for the two-tone revival of the '80s and, later, to America for the third wave and ska-punk revival of two decades ago.
Bolena says ska's energy and danciness are what keep it alive, if only as a niche genre.
"Today, it's still a lot like it was then — people just want to dance and have a good time. Just like people like reggae, jazz, or Motown, there will always be people who dig it. It's been popular twice before in the past and, hopefully, it will be again in the future," he says. "It just gets you up and makes you dance. I've never really seen anyone who's gone to one of our shows and not had fun."
"I was watching them as a fan long before I thought I was ever gonna be in the band," he says. "And it's been just as fun being in the band as it is being in the crowd." (Disclosure: Matt is the brother of New Times contributor Sarah Ventre.)
His joining the ensemble is the latest in a long series of lineup changes that 2TLK have endured. Over the past five years, Siebler and Bolena have seen more than a dozen musicians come and go, which they attribute to a tricky learning curve for ska. It's made for some frustrating recording sessions and is one of the reasons they feel the local scene remains relatively small.
"There's a certain nuance with playing ska, and you spend time picking it up, as Matt will tell you," Bolena says. "That's the thing about a ska band: There's this feeling that everyone can do it; then you realize how much work it is."
Traditional ska style involves a 4/4 time signature and quick, upbeat rhythms, with guitar riffs and chops on the off beats.