words and photos by Jacob Sprecher
Burger Boogaloo is getting better with every passing year, which isn't a slight on prior installments in the least. Boogaloo guru Marc Ribak deserves a lot of the credit for continuing to build upon what's already been a winning formula, as does the city of Oakland for letting a bunch of drunk rock 'n' rollers overtake what's normally a basketball-centric city park for two full days in the middle of summer. 2015 saw the edition of a second stage, a known emcee, and more live music than ever before. Here now are my officially unofficial awards for the occasion.
Man of the hour: John Waters
How much can an emcee really contribute to a festival? 30 seconds to a minute before and after name acts…not that big a deal, right? Wrong, apparently. Because the legendary John Waters brought a style, mood and swagger to Boogaloo that practically wafted through the air. He was funny, intelligent, hip and altogether real. This was not an aging celebrity being escorted down the steps with dollar signs in his eyes: Waters was a part of the atmosphere, and appeared as if he genuinely enjoyed being there. I don’t know what it cost to bring him, and I don’t know what it’ll cost to bring him back. But I do know that he’s worth every last grimy penny.
There can only be one: Jonathan Richman
There is nobody like Jonathan Richman. Nobody, nowhere, no way. To say that he is a special performer would be an incredible understatement, which this year’s Boogaloo is most certainly a testament to. Following Guantanamo Baywatch, who had the crowd worked into a sweat-stained tizzy, Jonathan decided to make his mark this time around by setting up not on the stage, but in the pit directly affront. Romantically coaxing the audience to sit, Jonathan and drummer Tommy Larkin henceforth delivered a magical set of Pete Seeger-esque bohemian brilliance; it was the kind of thing you had to be there for, the crowd laughing, giggling and cooing at every last joke, anecdote and melody oozed. It was arguably the highlight of my weekend, and I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in that sentiment.
Lived up to the hype: The Mummies
The Mummies are one of those bands that seem to be on everyone’s bucket list. “Man, I’d like the sweat off Donald Trump’s nut_ _ _ _ for just one chance!” That’s a tough thing to live up to, but make no mistake about it: A lot of people are going to be licking Donald Trum—no, really, the Mummies were fucking awesome and the crowd ate it up. Costumes and antics aside, they ripped; and yet those same costumes and antics (motor scooters!) just made it all the more glorious. “Stronger Than Dirt” was a personal favorite along with pretty much all their banter, most especially the repeated referencing of Boogaloo as a warm-up for their “big show” in Portland.
Most reliable: Shannon and the Clams
There are certain bands you come to expect quality from over time, Shannon and the Clams being one such group. Off Broadway this year at Boogaloo’s second stage (Psychoville), Shannon Shaw and the gang dazzled and delighted as per usual. They smattered old favorites with a healthy dose of new jams from their forthcoming album, Gone By the Dawn, all of which were well received. When you get the type of consistency you do with the Clams, it’s almost easy to take them for granted, which of course you shouldn’t. With that in mind…tour dates!
Most underwhelming: Nikki Corvette
Nothing to see here, move along.
And the award for delicate fabulousness goes to: The 5678's
If you hadn't physically seen them, you might not have known they were playing. That's how quiet and restrained Japan's 5678's were, and I loved every second of it. It's hard to even describe just how magnetizing they were at such a minimal stage volume; perhaps Sachiko Fujii's deft and effortless drumming best sums it up, but then again I'm not really sure. I think it's a package deal with this trio. Kill Bill gives you an idea, but the reality is so much more. Get down to Beach Goth in Orange County this summer if you'd like to see for yourself.
I-didn’t-know-you-but-now-I-do Award: Untamed Youth
For the handful of bands I didn’t really know prior to the lineup being announced, Untamed Youth ran away with my new-found enthusiasm. I’ll start by saying that when I grow up, I want to be like Deke Dickerson. (Never mind that I’m 32.) This guy licks and twangs like a Dick Dale/Duane Eddy hybrid, all the while maintaining a laidback and humorous charm on the mic. If it sounds like a have a crush on Deke, that’s because I do. And the rest of the band only complemented, as they whirled through the likes of “Elly May,” “She’s So Satisfying,” and an inspired rendition of “Pabst Blue Ribbon.” In fact, I dug the set so much, that the day after I bought More Gone Gassers on Discogs.
Drunkest good time: Black Lips
God that was a wildly entertaining show. I could scarcely contain myself by the time they kicked into “Family Tree” two songs in. The entire band was loose in the best possible way, with bassist Jared Swilley clearly wasted, yet together enough to maintain his balance and spout lead vocal duties on “Smiling” and others. This is a band that, despite my years of fandom, have somehow eluded me in a live setting. They were on my list, and I left Mosswood Park on Sunday wrapped in toilet paper and buzzing from Ancient Age. Thank you, Black Lips, not just for riling my drunken soul, but for playing all those Arabia Mountain cuts.
