photo: karl devine

WEDNESDAY, JAN. 16

“This one’s for our lord and saviour—the devil!” shouted Dusty Rhodes
front man Dustin Apodaca to the throngs of disciples that came to
participate in this exorcism of the Echo Wednesday night. The evening
was one of angles and angular guitars, capstoned by the enigmatic
performance of Mr. Dusty Rhodes and his flawless River Band. The
Valley Arena hit the stage first and set the tone for the evening.
Singer Warren Woodward and
drummer Mike Neilsen set up wearing almost-
identical striped shirts: “It’s our angle,” Warren joked. The band
launched into their guitar-driven set and left the crowd dumbfounded.
Cover alums Restaurant mixed it up with a soulful twang that could
only be described as rockabilly-style delta-blues electronic neo-
punk. The band claims they were born out of a fundamental
misunderstanding of the term “pince-nez” and love of all things Wu-
Tang. I like to think they grew up in a junkyard and learned all
their life lessons from old magazines and the backs of milk cartons.
The night truly belonged, however, to Dusty Rhodes and the River
Band. The six-piece played down-home country rock and bluegrass with
the fervor of Black Flag. It wasn’t just a performance—it was a
revival. Dusty Rhodes fucking preached rock ‘n’ roll and shook the
Echo to its foundation. The group’s fantastic songs and the kinetic
energy of the crowd cleansed years of bullshit build-up left by
stagnant hipster copycats and horrendous dance rock bands. Naysayers
who write off the Anaheim project as nothing more than a jam band
obviously haven’t seen them play. It is truly an experience not to be
missed. (JAX)