The Stuntcocks
Prosolar Mechanics, Buzzkill, 3 To 6 Inches,
and the Stuntcocks Bring Back The Sounds of
Nineties New Brunswick
By Jeff Norstedt
Photos by Mark Segal
This past weekend, the Court Tavern in New
Brunswick hosted the second of two reunion
shows in support of Stuart Wexler’s
planned Cruel But Fair, a documentary about
the Hub City’s indie music scene during
the halcyon days of the mid-to-late Nineties.
This installment featured Horsey, 3 to 6 Inches,
Prosolar Mechanics, the Stuntcocks, and Buzzkill.
I missed Horsey’s set due to dinner
plans. It bears mentioning that my dinner
plans were with Wil Barker, who (along with
Jersey Beat’s own Jim Testa) was one
of the patron saints of that scene. As it
turns out, Wil’s Community Sound Company
was quite possibly the most successful thing
to come out of that scene. These days he can
be found behind the board at festival-sized
events, including All Points West and all
of the shows on Governor’s Island. Back
then, he was the guy that would set up a PA
at the Ale ‘n Wich, where Bionic Rhoda
honed their chops.
Also worth noting: I got plenty of guff from
Mark, the notorious money collector at the
Court. Frankly, at the show in November, I
was disappointed that he happily made change
and stamped me with a smile. It felt like
going to Disney and not getting to see Epcot.
Luckily for me, this time around I paid with
a $20 and he had to make change. Pointed barbs
were exchanged, heads shook, and I was ready
for another night at the Court.
When I arrived, 3 to 6 Inches was already
mid-set. With vocalist Lisa Omps Woodley’s
dissonant and urgent vocals out front and
her bassist/husband James’ booming bass
not far behind, the band sounded like they
stepped straight out of 1997. They closed
with an airtight version “Gaslight,”
which was featured on the “Kitra Vol.
1” compilation about a dozen years ago.
While I am not sure the band’s songs
transcend the era, they proved to still be
capable of a captivating performance and it
was a good way to start another journey down
memory lane.
Prosolar Mechanics
Prosolar Mechanics was up next. Of all of
the bands on the bill, I was most eager to
see PMX. I was a big fan back in the day and
was very curious if their songs would stand
the test of time. Honestly, I was afraid they
might sound dated and my memory of the band
would be tarnished. However, as they launched
in to their set, I was struck be a completely
different thought — Prosolar Mechanics
was not a band whose sound was dated to the
late 90s. In fact, they were ahead of their
time. Their gig always involved blending futuristic
and mechanical textures with heavy organic
guitars and melodies. I can only imagine what
Prosolar Mechanics could do with the affordable
digital toys available today. I also remember
that they were one of the only bands from
that scene to start using the web. In fact,
their “Mechanics Log” was probably
the first blog I ever encountered. At the
time I didn’t get it. Clearly they did.
In their heyday Prosolar Mechanics could
always be counted on for impeccably executed
guitar tones. Some years later, their tone
was not quite so precisely dialed in; however,
Amy Jacob’s vocals rose above the band
better than ever. The highlight of their set
was “Heaven Grand,” which features
a guitar riff for the ages. The recording
of this tune off their Turn On album would
have to go in any time capsule from the scene.
Next up was the Stuntcocks, New Brunswick’s
answer to Damn Yankees. The city’s resident
super group, the Stuntcocks managed to incorporate
most of their lineups in the reunion set.
Dueling frontmen Johnny Stuntcock (Albie Connelly)
and Bobby Stuntcock (Rob Porter) still oozed
charm and charisma, which carried the original
lineup as they careened through era anthems
like “She Gets All Her Pets High”
and “Basement”. Their later lineup
tunes like “Pre-Traumatic Stress Disorder”
are more focused and showed off their song-writing
craft. The sum of the parts was a sloppy fun
romp.
Nineties nostalgia would not be complete without
some slam dancing, and for that there is Buzzkill
(or Butthead depending on how far back you
go). By the time I was old enough to get in
to the Court Tavern, Buzzkill had already
graduated to the varsity squad, touring the
country in support of an LP out on Jello Biafra’s
Alternative Tentacles label. By 1997, they
were like the star quarterback who had already
graduated but would come home to party with
the kids from high school every once in a
while.
Buzzkill
As soon as they hit the stage, it was clear
that they were the one band in the room that
had done any significant touring. Their unique
brand of punk rock mixed with metal and a
bit of the perverse was tight and hit hard.
Their cover of Judas Priest’s “Hellbent
For Leather” showcased the humor and
love for metal that set them apart from some
of the über serious punk bands of the
day. Short story: Buzzkill killed it.
In the middle of Buzzkill’s set, bassist
Dan Roorda did take a minute to deliver a
sincere thank you to the audience. As with
just about everybody in every band that played
either of these shows, he seemed as happy
to see the audience as the audience was to
see them.
Having been on the circuit in my own band
for some time now, it was refreshing to see
two shows where the bands were just up there
having fun. No one was spinning the details
of their latest industry opportunity, and
no one thinking three steps ahead toward world
domination while they performed. It would
be easy to chalk this up to the fact that
all of these bands are basically broken up
at this point. But the truth is that, in the
heyday of the scene, it always felt like that.
The beauty and the tragedy of music in New
Brunswick from about 1996 – 2001 was
that none of the bands were particularly career-oriented.
The tragedy is that there are only a few hundred
people (if that) that were ever able to appreciate
most of these bands. But the beauty was that
it was a very supportive and fertile environment
where you could be sure to catch at least
one good show 2-3 nights per week.
The Internet exploded as the local scene in
New Brunswick imploded. Now place is nearly
irrelevant in the spread of underground music.
And while late-90s New Brunswick will never
go down in history with Seattle as a legendary
local music scene, I do have to wonder if
it was one of the last ones. Either way, I
feel lucky to have been there, and these Cruel
But Fair shows were an excellent opportunity
to revisit some great memories with some great
people.
