Hairline fractures are beginning to spread at all four corners of my windshield due to the simple fact that five of the six slots in my car’s CD player are stuffed with Thee Oh Sees. With all the screeching reverb, driving guitar, distorted yelps, and occasional off-beat jazz flute interjections, the SF garage rock natives demand to be listened to at full volume. So when they showed up at the Echo last week with their own PA system, to be used in addition to the house’s, I decided the safest place to be was as far away as possible from the mirror-lined bar.

Fortunately for the Echo’s insurance premium, The Fresh and Only’s were scheduled to spread their sticky rhythms and catchy bass hooks all over us all before Thee Oh Sees would have a chance to shatter our every bone. Like a Vietnam vet who’s been through The Shit and left a part of himself there, Fresh and Only’s singer Tim Cohen pulled his smooth bellowing voice from the pockets of his camo fatigue with a nonchalance that assured us all would be okay, at least until the end of their set.

As Thee Oh Sees began piling their amps and speakers clear to the ceiling, I realized the true meaning behind Cohen’s blasé demeanor: he had come to the realization there is no avoiding the type of guerrilla warfare born from John Dwyer’s frantic…everything. As soon as Thee Oh Sees powered up their equipment we were taken for a frenzied run through a springy forest teaming with reverb booby traps and tambourine tripwires until we reached the mansion where the head of state resides. Luckily, everyone figured out pretty quickly that the best way not to get destroyed is to just keep moving.

—Daniel Pelt