-Scratch Magazine
May, (Issue #99) 2004
Busstop Hurricanes, The Ziggens @ The House of Blues Anaheim
I came for the second band, The Busstop Hurricanes (ranked #27 on O.C. WEEKLY's list of the all-time greatest O.C. bands), so they get the biggest piece of my pie. This sextet (two guitars, bass (a stand-up most of the time), drums, keys, singer) was, by far, the least like the others on the bill, featuring a swank swing melded with surf rock. Think the lounge act in a Rat Pack movie if it were directed by David Lynch. They got to play only seven songs-the durational equivalent to the first and shortest of their usual three-set night when I've seen them at the Continental Room in Fullerton (which they play as often as twice a month)-but they made the most of them. Taking the stage in their slick hepcat attire (though the keyboardist lacked a collared shirt, so the overall effect was slightly incomplete; but bonus points for the color-coordinated Strats), as always they delivered a perfectly-measured and tight performance, wearing their playfully aloof collective veneer and shimmying all the while. One of the particular highlights was the fourth song, "Re-entry", a gentle, mid-tempo alt-pop number. Even though this one is not a paradigm of their stuff, I suspect that if they ever get their LONG-awaited full-length out there, this is the crossover single. But it was the closer, "Monte Carlo"-a paragon of the TBH aesthetic-which really brought the house down. Singer Sammy Tonic took his wireless out onto the floor, and guitarist Twisty Lem'ons (the only gal on tonite's bill) drew a rousing ovation with her solo as she maneuvered between the floor monitors to the extreme front of the stage. Fans were won on this night. I hope more people get wind of TBH, because they're doing their own thing, and doing it just about perfectly-and a lot of people out there will appreciate it. Check this band out if you want something other than just predictable progressions of power chords, yelling as the main way to generate energy, and sweaty young guys bobbing their heads as they hack away for the mosh pit. There's a place for that, but there's more to life. Find out more about what I'm saying at www.busstophurricanes.com.
The H.O.B. Anaheim is clean and safe, the staff seemed courteous enough, you can see pretty well from pretty much everywhere, parking is easily validated so that you don't have to pay for it...but fuck, Mr. Sound Man, when Spinal Tap talks about going to 11, there's a joke there, not a message to crank it past the pain threshold. Aside from that, on this night you got four bands who I think represented themselves well (never mind my personal taste). I think some would like a double-bill of Brodii Split and Chris Paul Overall; I know that many would need no opener for two goofy hours with The Ziggens; and a bunch of us would like the waitress to keep the martinis coming as we groove to The Busstop Hurricanes.
-O.C. Weekly
June 20th, 2003
"129 Greatest Orange County Bands EVER" edition
(list compiled by all O.C. weekly writers who have
contributed music reviews for the publication).
Number 27- The Busstop Hurricanes
Sure, the whole band is frolicsome and tasty, but there's none so tart and tasty
as Twisty Lemons, the guitar goddess with the perfect hair and the icy demeanor
who reduces happily married men to gibbering morons. Catch a show for yourself.
While singer Mick grinds on a table, Twisty's liable to climb up on a bar--her
face as bored as Billy Zoom's--and shred like she's Ruyter Suys, but with a
marvelous ennui. All, of course, while lying on her back. And while all their
music's outrageously fast and fun, ask for "Burn", the cowboy serenade
on the pawnshop guitar. It's a preposterously beautiful love ballad with a Spanish
gypsy beat, dark and smoky and horrendously perfect. Ask now.
-Skratch Magazine
February (Issue #84), 2003
(By Greggory Moore)
A few years ago I happened to be at the Hub
when The Busstop Hurricanes played. Fast-forward to maybe a couple of months
ago and I'm in the Continental Room for the first time. It's a find for me:
a swank, plush, lounge-type bar with just a hint of dive bar about it----perfect.
Suddenly curtains rise on a tiny stage area at one end of the place: it's The
Busstop Hurricanes. I wasn't there to see live music, but I'm interested to
see TBH, interested because here it is several years later and this band doesn't
seem to have changed it's aesthetic much to better capitalize on what will give
it the best chance to sell records, instead sticking to its unique brand of
music----sort of a Golden Earring meets The Blasters and The Fabulous Thunderbirds----and
sticking to it with conviction. I had to leave early into the band's set, but
I resolved that at a later date I would willingly augment my usual SKRATCH duties
as proofer and columnist to give TBH some press.
And so I am once again in the Continental Room on the 16th as the members
of The Busstop Hurricanes take the stage (which is backed by lovely red curtains
that would make David Lynch giddy). It's a good crowd, everybody looking nice
and clean, many obviously familiar with TBH. The set opens with an instrumental,
a mellow rockabilly-meets-surf tune with that plush, lounge-music swing. It
seems the Continental Room and TBH were made for each other; I doubt you'd like
one and not the other. The mix and volume are perfect, allowing you to hear
everything without wishing you could hear it a little less.
Right away TBH's aesthetic is clear: no one overplays, each member confining
him-/herself to serving the overall song----which doesn't mean that the individual
parts aren't fun to play. (Very different music, but think about the playing
on Blur's self-titled album). The music is handled by J. Edgar Hoover (bass),
Twisty Lem'ons (guitar), Chief "Joey" Tambourino (drums), and Caesar
Clave (trumpet); and over the course of the evening they moved through their
20+ songs with a nicely controlled energy, feeling both tight and live, a band
that seem very comfortable playing together. After the opening number they were
joined by vocalist Sammy Tonic. Like the music, his vocals did not lack for
energy or crispness, and his mobile stage presence (which was by no means confined
to the miniature stage) was a nice adjunct to shimmying of his band-mates.
Both of the quintet's first two sets (there was also a short third set) seemed
to become increasingly energetic as they wore on, at the same time expanding
on the swank foundation of its music (songs like "Monte Carlo" could
be used to score a montage in a Rat Pack road movie), eventually smoothly moving
into territory that you wouldn't necessarily have expected. For example, the
fifth song of the second set, "Re-entry", has little or no trace of
the TBH swing (more akin to the spirit of the swinging passages you occasionally
come across in The Pixies and The Cure than with swing dancing), instead being
smooth, tuneful alt-pop. Along these lines, the band did two covers: "London
Calling" (as a homage to the late Joe Strummer, of course) and a Cure-sounding
version of Duran Duran's "Planet Earth". These were obviously the
band's least well-rehearsed (because this sounds like a VERY well-rehearsed
band)-----and I later found that this was the first time they'd played either;
but what came across from these was not that they were poorly done (they weren't)
but the band's sense of fun. This is a fun band---and it's a unique style of
fun.
All five bandmembers were dressed in a manner concomitant with their music: swank, smooth, lively. As for their performances, Tonic's vocals are full-throated and confident, dripping with a swank blues tone and personality----which his peregrinations only augment; Tambourino's drumming is tight, busy enough but adhering to that jazz adage that a drumer's doing a good job when he doesn't draw attention to himself; Clave's trumpet weaves it's way in and out of songs almost imperceptibly, so well does it add a layer instead of taking center stage; Hoover's stand-up bass work not only gives the songs a punchy bop but also the kind of texture that gives him away as an out-of-the-closet-and-proud fan of the great arrangers of the mid 20th century; similarly, Lem'ons smooth and subdued guitar work reveals her to be in the Johnny Marr camp and not in the Steve Vai school. (I found out after the set that the band is, ultimately, a sextet featuring a second guitarist (who is able to make it down from up north every third show or so, I am told). I don't doubt this gives TBH an extra layer, but the fact is that I would never have guessed anything was missing from the stuff I heard that night).
The Busstop Hurricanes is not a band out to conquer the world: its members play for the love of what they're doing-----and it shows. They are signed to Bite Mark Records, and as of now have produced only a six-song EP, THE SATELLITE ROOM. However, they do plan to release their first full-length sometime in the summer. Meanwhile, they continue to play live about three times a month----again, simply for the love of it. The Continental Room is a regular place to catch them (every other Thursday.... and what a place! No cover, great decor, wonderful atmosphere.... just check it out: 115 W. Santa Fe, the south end of Downtown Fullerton), but you can find a full (and regularly updated) listing of where and when they can be caught on the band's Website, www.busstophurricanes.com. If you like the idea of a band that puts on an excellent, energetic show without pretense and that becomes part of the room instead of just playing at it, then The Busstop Hurricanes is a must-see.
And . . . Square, Peepshot, the John Wilkes Kissing Booth, Busstop Hurricanes, Supernovice, Havalina Rail Co., Throw Rag, Smile, Third Grade Teacher, the Killingtons, Mention, Lo-Fi Champion, Bourbon Jones, the Dibs . . . any time, anyplace, anywhere.
-O.C. Weekly
February 18th, 2000 (By Rich Kane)
Ikey Owens, keyboard genius of Teen Heroes, certainly
found Linda's okay enough, for not only was he doing his thing with slightly
whacked opening band Fred Wilson FBI (who fabulously tarted-up Madonna's "Burning
Up"), but he was guesting with the Busstop Hurricanes, too! And boy, did those
'Canes blow! Hyuck! Hyuck! Somebody stop us! No, no no, not really. Quite the
reverse, for the Busstop Hurricanes were indeed fantastic, a reincarnation of
the Animals and Mitch Ryder & the Detroit Wheels, and fronted by a mesmerizing,
manic, jittery singer we think was named Sammy, who looked like a young, foppy
Van Morrision.
They're a meaty band grounded in the rebel-rock anthems that came out of 1960's
garages (back when rock& roll was still dangerous) and loaded with great,
nasty, offend-your-grandparents guitars. And what showmen! Sammy, for his part,
spent a good hunk of the set crawling on top of the bar (when he wasn't falling
off it) while belting out high-test R&B. The only weak moment arrived during
their odd, awkward attempt at esoteric jazzbo poetry ("Onion, my onion, when
I cut you, you make me cry, cry, cry!"-whatthafuh?), but mostly the band pinched
off perfect music for laying down rubber across open, foreboding highways. On
the very day when Screamin' Jay Hawkins left this planet, we're sure that some
of his spirit entered the bodies of the Busstop hurricanes on its way to heaven.
-Los Angeles Times (O.C. Edition)
October
2nd, 1998
That delicious '60s form, chronicled by Rhino Records
on the recently released "Nuggets" box set, married blues sensibility and tasty
pop-throwaway songwriting methods with buzzing fuzz-tone guitars and conceived
a hallucinatory aura ideally suited to darkling, sparkling probes of inner space.
That's where the Busstop Hurricanes live, getting' down with the fuzz buzz and
the blues hoodoos and not forgetting to chuckle while
they tune in to Channel Noir.
The Fullerton band with the raw, juicy sound consists of five players sporting
silly pseudonyms (Sammy Tonic sings; Twisty Lem'ons and Hector Jesus Joaquim
D'Lamour de Dios make the guitars wail and bite).
Most of Busstop Hurricanes' debut six-song EP sounds like a séance in which
Jim Morrison's dark spirit has invited itself to nestle within Phil Alvin's
blues-screaming skull. When not forcing contact between the Doors and the Blasters,
Busstop Hurricanes take over Chris Isaaks's sultry, Mexican bungalow for the
CD's big romantic moment, "Burn."
They also blithely nick the Yardbirds' most famous chords on "Blue Eyed Devil,"
which starts with the "For Your Love" riff and goes on to sound like the Cult
with all the arena-rock pretentious sucked out and replaced with a relish for
gritty basement surroundings.
Not only is the musical construct inherently fun, but Mr. Tonic puts a humorous
spin on the songs by enjoying his boastful, blues-drawling love-god role while
not taking it altogether seriously.
In a spoken-word number, "Lab Rat," he gives voice to that lowliest of creatures,
a caged rodent, who jive-talks to keep his dignity while begging his keeper
for a taste of cheese in place of his laboratory gruel. "I could get it on with
Parmesan… A little Gouda would put me in the mood-a", he implores.
If Busstop Hurricanes doesn't put you in the mood-a, here's your fedora, and
there's the door-a. Don't let it snag your zoot suit on the way out.
-O.C. Register
June 5th, 1998 (CD review by
Robert Kinsler-- 4 stars)
Like it’s contemporaries, this band of renegades mixes rock, swing, rockabilly & lounge styles, but that only tells part of the story. Spoken word moments, U2 like guitar positioned over Eddie Cochran-like beats and a healthy share of radio crackle somehow co exist without clashing..
-University
Reporter CSUF vol. 4, issue 1.
I must admit that this is one of the most difficult
reviews that I have ever encountered. Reason being there is so much to say about
the fabulous Busstop Hurricanes, I don't even know where to start. Last Tuesday,
I had a very tedious day and wasn't in the mood for much conversation besides
that I was genuinely nervous about the whole thing. But I'm know for keeping
my word and went to see what they were all about. Let me tell you, it all changed
the minute I stepped in their miniature palace. I felt very welcomed and quite
comfortable in their kingdom. Sammy Tonic the sexy lead singer, was Bar-B-Queuing
some delicious salmon and the most juicy corn on the cob ever. How can I refuse?
After a few Coronas from the tiki bar, everything started to make more sense.
Most of them couldn't stay out of jail and off the drugs long enough to actually
play a few gigs. Their music style is incomparable; it's not ground breaking
but has a different approach. I believe their writing is the root of their creativity;
each song is very original and puts the unconscious mind to work. To put in
a more familiar way, the Busstop Hurricanes music is a combination of mango-passion,
Latin-desire and good wine. It's an experience all on it's own. It comes out
pure and dry, no bull.
Their first album "The Satellite Room" came out last October on Bitemark records. There are six delightful melodies that gets you moving and grooving. My favorite is track five "Burn," it tickles my heart. If you have the privilege to see them perform you'll get a completely different opinion then listening to their album. They put on a great live show with plenty of surprises, and risky songs that are not even on the record. Not only do they have "Tina," they interact with the audience in a special way; either jumping on the dinner table or inviting you over to spin the bootie. The Busstop Hurricanes are not in their own Ivory tower, as a matter of fact the closer you get the better. Right now they are working on their second full-length album, due at the end of the year. In the meantime you could see the next big thing September 9th at the House of Blues with They Might Be Giants, and September 12th at Linda's Doll Hut in Anaheim. The album can be purchased at Black Hole Records in Fullerton, or their live shows. Contact Bitemark Records at (714) 282-6958 to confirm dates. The talent doesn't stop here, Tim Magg the engineer on "The Satellite Room" who played with Jane Weilend and Dephine Memphis former Go-Go's is also playing with The Lucky Stars a western swing band worth seeing. Their next live show will be at the following: September 4th in Hollywood at Jack's Sugar Shack, September 5th in San Diego at Tio Leo's, September 18th & 19th in Huntington Beach at Lube Joint and September 26th and Dixie Belle in Downey.
(We think this reporter may have been under the influence
while interviewing; hence the mentioning of "Tina", and Go-Go's comment.....
Tim Magg played in legendary punk band "The Cramps" not the Go-Go's; and she
must have been referring to "Twisty" with her "Tina" reference. We also
believe she might have been implying the "Juke Joint" in the last line, but
that's anyone's guess....)
-Daily Titan
April 30Th,
1998
"Earth day celebration at The Hub "
The most entertaining band of the show was the Busstop Hurricanes. The band began slow with a bluesy swing style but progressed into a representation of sleaze and filth in its best form. The crowd could not be held back as they eventually took the stage over and danced between the band members who did not mind. The audience lost control when the group performed the Gary Neuman classic "Cars." The set went off so well that the band was forced to do the first encore of the day. The band jammed out a song about rodeo clowns for fifteen minutes and by the time it was over everyone could not stop dancing.
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