Asbury Park, NJ – 13 April 2023
“New Noise” was great and all, but have you “ever seen the face of revolution?“
Punk rock is a hell of a thing, huh? There aren’t any other genres where a lucky bastard like myself can go to a fairly small venue in Asbury Park, NJ and see five legitimate legends of the scene take the stage together with no barricades to separate the audience and one hell of an opening cast for under $25? But here I am, on a beautiful Spring Thursday catching Fake Names with a killer supporting cast including Space Cadet, Not Yer Baby and The OC Rippers.
I’d long ago resigned myself to the fact that I will not ever get to see Refused, Minor Threat, Embrace or Rites of Spring live. Things never lined up, being born in the wrong decade for the DC scene’s epoch, being born on the wrong continent to spend much time in Sweden’s punk clubs and squandering every opportunity when it did present itself. Luckily for me, some of the best from those bands formed Fake Names and Fake Names brought a quartet of outstanding support.
Space Cadet, formed from the ashes of Boston’s The Explosion released one of the sneakiest bangers of 2021, Lion On A Leash. I quite enjoyed the record immediately upon its release and somehow, missed their name on this flyer. The same way their album surprised me in the best way possible three years ago, their performance caught me off-guard. The two-piece (five-piece tonight) warmed up the crowd with a brilliant presentation of pedal-friendly rock that got everyone’s head nodding and bodies swaying. The band connected with the audience on a deep level, enticing a crowd to abandon the balcony lounge area to crowd closer to stage. When the band closed out with “Start Running Away,” there was already a line forming at their merch table as new fans couldn’t wait to show their support.
Next up, Not Yer Baby, were a Jersey band I’m embarrassed to admit I’d not heard of before they took the stage, but holy fuck have I been missing out. The young quartet has the dancey-punk vibes strong enough to make Stephen Hawking shake his ass. The singer made mention that she struggled with stage banter, and that may be true, but honestly I don’t think anyone in the club noticed what they were saying because the music was just too much damn fun (plus the 9-foot-tall bassist was rocking the shit out of his kilt). The four-piece commanded the stage with the presence and proficiency of seasoned vets.
Not Yer Baby were followed by another Jersey act, The OC Rippers. The South Jersey glam-punks were loud, fast and gritty with a singer carrying himself with an erratic gusto that would have made Iggy Pop blush. I’d be a fool not to shout out the guitarist, I may not have caught their name, but they were a ton of fun to watch as their technical mastery was on full display.
Finally, Fake Names commandeered the stage and holy shit did they command that stage. This may have only been the second time Fake Names performed live (and first since 2019) but that didn’t have any negative impact on the performance. Burning their way through a set full of sick riffs and turns of phrase, politically-relevant post-punk and power-pop paved with panache and power. Fake Names may often get labeled as a super-group, and it’s a fair assessment based on pedigrees but Fake Names stands tall on its own ten feet.
Every member deserves their own wall in the hardcore wing of the Punk Rock Museum recently opened in Vegas: guitarists Brian Baker (Minor Threat/Dag Nasty/Bad Religion) and Michael Hampton (S.O.A./Embrace), vocalist Dennis Lyxzén (Refused/The [International] Noise Conspiracy), bassist Johnny Temple (Girls Against Boys/Soulside) and drummer Brendan Canty (Fugazi/Rites of Spring) are all legitimate legends in the hardcore scene and well on their way to legendary status in the melodic post-punk realm with Fake Names and performances like this.
First show in 4 years, 2nd time on stage, none of it matters because these cats can go. Like the seasoned masters they are. Fake Names kicked off with “Targets” and “Expendables” before Lyxzén took a minute to speak to the crowd.
Sharing tales of his knee surgery in Sweden with the supplemental physical therapy needing less than $150, and his long history of writing songs against the “luxury of our turning our head” and his gratitude and acknowledgment of his luck to be able to sing on stage and have people give a shit.
A testament to their talent, to their tenure, to the total package this show brought the event only seemed half over when they closed out with “Too Little Too Late.” Before the house lights even turned on, Lyxzén and Baker were in the crowd slinging merch, signing records and chatting about shirts in the audience. Hampton and Temple weren’t far behind them, a reminder of the community these gentlemen have spent their lives cultivating.
This is what makes punk so beautiful, and the reason we keep coming back for bands like this.
Bad Dad (occasionally called Ed) has been on the periphery of the punk and punk-adjacent scene for over twenty years. While many contributors to this site have musical experience and talent, Ed’s musical claim to fame comes from his time in arguably the most punk rock Blockbuster Video district in NJ where he worked alongside members of Blanks 77, Best Hit TV and Brian Fallon. He is more than just an awful father to his 2 daughters, he is also a dreadful husband, a subpar writer, a terrible dresser and has a severe deficiency in all things talent… but hey, at least he’s self-aware, amirite?
Check out the pathetic attempts at photography on his insta at https://www.instagram.com/bad_dad_photography/
