D.I., Bum City Saints, Rockfight
April 19, 2014
Thee Parkside
San Francisco, CA

It’s the D.I. of the Tiger

Have you noticed how stylish bacon has become lately? I don’t mean that metaphorically either. I mean bacon. All over the place. It’s kinda fuckin annoying. Did I say annoying? I meant, perfect and beautiful. Bacon that is. What if bacon were a music genre? I think that’s the only place it has left to go, as a fad that is. The music might sound like the crackling spats of an inferno-ed platter, heating porky slabs to the desired functionality. I feel that the sound of bacon cooking, the talisman for the possibility of it in my future, makes me typically as happy as I was the night I saw D.I. at Thee Parkside. As in, happy as a –well, happy as a pig in turdicles to be consistent with my metaphor.

D.I. is one of raddest bands ever and I find it a mystery that more people aren’t familiar with them. Maybe they remain in the shadow of other bands that their members have graced, namely Social Distortion and The Adolescents (who Casey Royer, D.I.’s lead singer and last standing original member, used to drum for). All I know is D.I. was playing fast, ugly, truthful music about skateboarding and the plastic nightmare of Southern California since the earliest of 80’s. And they are goddamn good at it, I tells ya.

I showed up at Thee Parkside ready to get all punk rock ‘n shit. Small, dirty punk shows are the best. They’re like Cher or fine wine in that they never age, and when they do, it only accentuates what you already loved. Candice had opted to refrain from the evening’s niceties so I was rollin’ solo. My good homeslice Nick was gonna meet me there later. Like myself, he spent his more formative years listening to D.I. and was elated by the news of them brandishing San Francisco with their glorious yelling harmonies. I walked back to the patio and immediately saw some good friends, Michael and Chloe, sitting beneath the warm embrace of nighttime. They had a crew with them and I delved right in. Their cohorts were a regular laugh riot and I felt like they provided the perfect trailer if you will, to the night’s main attraction. We all shared stories of various our exploits over tater tots and beer. I thought that was all quite bacon-y.


Nick and his friend from So-Cal showed up and joined the party. After a while the patio chickens became stir-crazy; loud times loomed. I revved up my rock-throttle as the music began to make headway. The night’s first act, from right here in good ol’ San Francisco, was both a band and a suggestion: Rockfight. I was immediately taken in by their wing of prowess. They pack such a burly punch that they could even get a quadriplegic to dance! Sorry, that was insensitive. But seriously, sister, their fast, yelling wondertude had me floored…despite this one guy who had on a big stupid hat and was a bit distracting, I was completely drawn and enmeshed to the sound of Rockfight.


Next up was Bum City Saints, also from the San Fran of Cisco. They really grated the metaphorical cheese! I loved their set, their energy, the way their singer thoughtfully noted a car owner who had left his or her lights on, as well as their rounded screaming awesomeness. The bass player and guitarist both sing and play off each other really well. I’d say they sing good duets if that didn’t sound so sissy, but it’s true. Sorry guys. You’re still gnarly.


The non-poopy colon to the night’s punctuation was D.I., taking up the climactic slot of our hero’s journey. They were everything I could have ever dreamed. Funny –Nay: hilarious (that’s what the horse said), so fast with so much power, even the miniature jock who kept trying to fight people in the pit was excused. Everyone was just too damn happy smacking the shit out of each other to even notice his legitimate aggression. It was really great. At one point Casey Royer, said to the crowd, “Nothing matters but having fun.” And that pretty much summed up the night. I couldn’t have been more pleased seeing a band who I’ve been listening to since I was an even more immature dork than I am today.


D.I., Bum City Saints and Rock Fight, I personally thank you all for playing for us that night. You made me feel like the world is still alive and wall-to-wall with bacon. And if that’s wrong I don’t want to be right.


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