Hot Lunch, Carlton Melton
777 Valencia Street
San Francisco, CA, 94110
Doors 8:00 PM / Show 9:00 PM
This event is all ages
"On the night of November 6th, 1979 Black Sabbath was at their most drug addled and explosive standing. They were on tour supporting their newly released Never Say Die album and had a night off in Los Angeles. After knocking back a few drinks at the infamous Rainbow Bar, they decided to check out the local rock scene at the Whiskey A-Go-Go. Arriving late, they caught the tail end of a set by The Circle Jerks. Feeling intimidated yet inspired, they rented a rehearsal space and spent the rest of the night jamming. For an unknown reason they exclusively played Thin Lizzy material and Keith Moon was sitting in… These events never took place. But if they did, the results may have sounded similar to Los Angeles's The Shrine. Formed in 2008, The Shrine play a houserocking breed of heavy, psychedelic, riff based Rock n' Roll. Their debut, recorded on vintage reel-to-reel tape, by local hero Dave O. Jones and under the auspices of the notorious Chuck Dukowski, is the perfect soundtrack to any debaucherous gathering of longhairs. If you and your rag-tag group of riff-raff friends are planning a road trip to Humboldt County to "Score", this is the album you need to be listening to on the way. The Shrine is Josh Landau on guitar/vocals, Courtland Murphy on bass, and Jeff Murray on Drums. Dig It. "-Harley Rother
Following the sudden implosion of Parchman Farm, singer Eric Shea knew that he had only two options; start a Firefall tribute band named High On Firefall or build a heavy punk 'n' roll quartet by sandwiching members from his favorite San Francisco bands. Following his gut, he pursued the sandwich.
Since he had a fondness for heavy acid-rock of the late 1960s, Shea called up Aaron Nudelman to ask if he still played guitar with the wild and shirtless abandon of his old band Mensclub. Nudelman said that although a recent court-order demanded he keep his shirt on in a public setting, he was still summoning a six-string jihad and that it would behoove Shea to lose his longhaired, backwoods, bow-hunting Republican pride and negotiate with guitarrorists.
Two negotiations and twelve beers later, Shea and Nudelman were knocking on the door of Rob Alper, as both drunk men were longtime fans of Alper's drum work with Estrus Records darlings, The Fells as well as his contributions to The Sermon's Volume. Alper apologized for answering the door naked before admitting that he liked the idea of dusting off his behemoth drum-kit and beating the living hell out of those heads like they were that of his own beloved children.
Two twelvers and nine high-fives later Shea, Nudelman and Alper knew they needed a bass player to flesh out their rock sandwich – and not just any bass player but a lead bass player without herpes. Enter Charlie Karr. A former member of The Hostiliteens and Alternative Tentacles recording jerks, Harold Ray Live In Concert, Karr already had much in common with the others, especially their love for surfing, skateboarding, barbequing and playing heavy rock so loud that it melted the faces right off the skulls of evil Nazis, much like the end scene in Raiders Of The Lost Ark.
But the group also shared a lusty hunger for noontime meals served piping hot, which led them to one of the most clever, well thought-out and originally conceptualized monikers in the entire history of all music: HOT LUNCH.
Now with a self-released 45 single out and a full-length album fresh off-the-grill from Tim Green's Louder Studios, all four members of HOT LUNCH are willing and ready to melt everyone's faces like Swiss cheese on an open face pastrami sandwich. And as the late great Warren Zevon suggested before his passing, it would be in your best interest to enjoy every sandwich.
"Unlike many of their contemporaries, [the band] seems to be less concerned with the pulse, and the rhythm, and the groove, as they are with the SOUND, and the VIBE, weaving lush, expansive sprawls of effects drenched psychedelic ambience, drifting more often than driving, huge clouds of swirling wah guitars, and minimal spare drumming, which seems to exist more as a pulse, than a beat proper, everything murky and muddy and washed out, at once lo-fi, but impossibly dense and heavy, the band seeming to drift weightless though swirling starlit sonic skies, their sound loose and free and abstract and ephemeral." --Aquarius Music
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