The Rondelles [Note: We have no pictures from this show. We found this Rondelles shot in an image search and have been unable to identify the photographer. If it's yours and you'd like credit, or want us to take it down, e-mail us and we'll do so immediately)

On March 9th, Mark Robinson's wonderful Teenbeat label celebrated its 15th anniversary with a great showcase at the Black Cat, featuring six of its best live acts. Included among these was the final concert performance for Flin Flon. Doors opened for the show at 8:30, and by 8:29, the very interesting, very bizarre Butch Willis had already taken stage.

Butch Willis, for those who don't know, likes to dress in platform shoes, spandex pants (they were yellow this time) and, well, nice shirts! Normally he is backed by a band, which takes at least a smidgen of focus from his voice. To describe the voice...imagine all of the missed high notes from a Townes Van Zandt concert, then string them together. His is a voice so beyond bad that it somehow can become compelling -- or just plain frightening when combined with nothing else, as it was this evening. Yes, I was lucky enough to catch the first Butch Willis set performed acapella.

While I normally creep as close to the stage as I can upon arrival, Butch creates such a strange presence that I was somewhat afraid to be separated from the rest of the pack at the bar. Frankly, he has so much schtick and presence that he scared me. With arms flapping back and forth as if desperately needing another drink, he sang energetically and enthusiastically in his uniquely godawful manner about subjects like "Drugs" (Drugs'll do it to you/Rock, rock, rock/Make you feel spicy/Make you feel icy/Make you want an ice cream cone/Make you want to scoop your own). While some may go to see a Daniel Johnston concert the way others see a car wreck, I can't imagine any moment seeming more distanced from one's daily life than watching Butch onstage, especially when he ends such perversely oblique songs with remarks like "True story".

About a minute after Butch Willis left the stage, laughing off the idea of an encore -- he's quite self-deprecating, I should add, and easy to love for this reason -- Jeff Gramm and Aden came out and, within about a minute, began playing. If you're unfamiliar with Aden, they are as good a substitute for Holiday as can currently be found in the indiepop community. They also look nicer than any Shaun Cassidy, so the audience was now confortable enough to approach the stage.

The outfit supporting Jeff on this occasion included John Lindaman and Matt Datesman, two members from True Love Always, as well as regular Aden bassist Fred Kovey. All of their songs were lovely, including "Black Cow" from their last album and "Sampler Track" from the 2000 Teenbeat Sampler . One of the highlights in this set, though, was when the TLA members exited the stage and Aden began to sing one of the new songs from their upcoming CD (which was recorded in Chicago after the concert). Jeff could only get one line into the horse race song ("You take three to place") before breaking out in an embarrassed laugh; while the song is undoubtedly great, it is hilarious to hear such a line sung as if one's trying to sooth a heart.

After Aden came Phil Krauth, formerly a member of Unrest and for the last few years in charge of a fine, if neglected, solo career that includes the mini-masterpiece Silver Eyes. While Krauth's records put his voice at center stage, earning him worthy comparisons to Lou Reed or the occasionally decent Jim Carroll, the live Krauth experience is something far more deafening. He and the band began with a scorching jam, killing all the peaceful feeling Aden had created. Then, through the remainder of the set, the group ran through "Satu", "Vida Dura" and all the other formidable solo material, generally with his voice barely rising above the clanging guitars. For me, this is the best way to experience Krauth, and while I was thrown for a spin by the sheer loudness of his set, it was a noise that has grown ever more fond in my memory as the days have passed and my ears have recovered.

True Love Always, again without any set-up time, appeared almost immediately after Phil Krauth's set ended. With the incredible Matt Datesman pounding the drums, the love songs of Lindaman took on a more immediate, less exultant state than they do on their records. Tobin Rodriguez, the other member, provided wonderful bass playing, but this was mostly the drummer's night to shine. On songs like "Bicycle Rider" and "I've Got a Crush on You", it sometimes became difficult to tell that the songs were happy as you watched Datesman's tiring arms and his slightly distorted face keeping to the slow but insistent rhythms.

For me, the highlight of the night came next. The Rondelles have turned themselves into the coolest rock band on the planet. They were the only group that took a while to set up, but it was fun to watch bassist Yukiko and guitarist-singer Juliet just laugh and strut around the stage in their vintage dresses and boots, with Yukiko also sporting a black boa. Perhaps you have to be a guy to understand the fascination... In addition, drummer/keyboardist/madman Oakley (with wild, Horshackian hair) and new guitarist Corey (who used to be their roadie, and looks like a young Malcolm McDowell) just have the meanest sense of fashion and would surely make any British band envious. For their set, the band went through many of their favorites, including "The Fox", but left off a masterpiece or two, like "Rediscover Fire". In concert, though, I guess it doesn't matter what they play. It's impossible not to be mesmerized by them.

Juliet, who has the best female voice in rock today, was largely drowned out by the band's raging attacks on their instruments, but the mere fact you could make her voice out was amazing. Oakley, who somehow plays both drums and keyboards while standing up, also spits out Mark E. Smith-style utterances; they never make much sense, but add to the spirit of the punk hootenanny.

Oakley, to some extent, helped solidify the event as the Night of the Drummer, though all of the Rondelles were readily fascinating. If this band ever gets some internal friction in the lineup we're in for a big loss, as it's quite a sight to see Yukiko and Corey dare each other to play quicker, or to watch any of them looking about, knowing they're at the center of something truly special.

Versus (photo by Ashley Atkinson, borrowed from Insound's Photo Gallery)

Versus had the lamentable job of performing right after the Rondelles, but have you ever heard Versus perform? When Richard Baluyut is leading them, they seem as loud and intense as Sonic Youth in their Daydream Nation heyday. I'm not too familiar with the work of this band, but every song they performed was wonderful. Fontaine Toups, the female Patti Smith in the band, changes the sound of the band considerably when she performs, helping to make the music a bit kinder to the ears; my ears weren't asking for this gracious act, but what the hell? A good song is a good song, and Fontaine's Chrissie Hynde moments had more than their bit of charm.

Finally, out came Flin Flon, the group Mark Robinson formed shortly after calling it a day with Air Miami. Though Mark Robinson sings all the songs, Flin Flon has always been a purely democratic band, and onstage they were no difference. If anything, bassist Nettles (from the fantastic Cold Cold Hearts) and drummer Matt Datesman were the ones who kept grabbing and earning center stage, as evidenced during the long intro (where a deeply tired Matt was joined by Versus drummer Patrick Reilly) and the fantastic if surprising instrumental closer. Despite being their final show, hardly a word was spoken during their performance, and songs which started on a wrong note were often stopped midway to be played again. Mark, donning a Washington Capitals t-shirt, and known for having written songs about shoes and such, had his quirkiness nicely matched by the hecklers the band attracts. I doubt I'll ever see a concert, even in Boston, where a female audience member screams, "Bruins suck! Celtics suck!". She also said the Pacers suck, though I don't know why.

I hope I'm conveying not only the sort of great night this anniversary party turned out to be, but also the fascinating aspects of the Teenbeat label. Unlike, say, the wonderful Le Grande Magistery, which focuses upon a particular sound, the Teenbeat label pursues cool, generally local acts that care a great deal about their music. Occasionally, some on their roster lag in talent (and who could say otherwise for Butch Willis?), but they are always tremendous in concert. While the Rondelles excel in any department you care to mention -- be it the look, the music, or whatever else you're after -- all of these bands have the song at the core of their performances, making each upcoming anniversary for the label something to wait for with eager anticipation.