Full disclosure: I did not catch the Minutemen the first time around; Double Nickels on the Dime came out when I was six.  My first exposure to Mike Watt was through his stellar 1994 solo record Ballhog or Tugboat; that record, packed to the gills with superstar guests, (Eddie Vedder on “Against the 70s,” Evan Dando on “Piss Bottle Man,” J Mascis, Pat Smear, Flea and Dave Grohl on a whole mess of songs, and a slew of other folks)  sparked my interest in Watt and turned me onto D. Boon and company’s seminal work.  In a way, Watt helped me find my way to hipper music I might not have heard otherwise; it’s not like you hear “Jesus and Tequila” on the radio.  Without Ballhog or Tugboat, I very well could have a blog about smooth jazz or something right now.  (That’s a stretch, but you get the idea.)  When Watt announced a cross country tour, his first in four and some odd years; my good friend Vince and I leapt at the opportunity to catch him live.  We never made it to his previous Cleveland gigs and we were well primed for Tuesday.  (Also, to a degree, I feel like I created this show with my brain, as I hoped for some Watt dates in a Lazy Saturday before the show was announced.  If you’d like me to create another dream show with my mind, pass along what you’re looking for and I’ll do my best.)

The opening act, Lite, certainly brought the ruckus before Watt and the Missingmen took the stage.  The quartet from Tokyo, on their first tour of the United States, play a loud and complex instrumental post-rock.  The songs were intricate and thunderous, full of odd time signatures, unexpected stops and starts and, in general, crazily electrified sonic fireworks.  The crowd initially seemed a little shocked by the depth of noise coming from the band, but soon was nodding along gleefully.  (I think we were expecting straight-ahead 1234 Japanese punk rock, a la the Gito Gito Hustlers and so forth, which this certainly was not.)  Overall, Lite echoed Watt’s ethos enough that they both won a bunch of fans and set the mood for the headliner, which counts as a win in my book.

In large part, I let you down when Mike Watt and the Missingmen took the stage; I was kind of selfish.  I did not take enough pictures, I grabbed zero audio or video, I didn’t take very good or very copious notes and I was completely burned when I got home.  I’m writing this review the day after, rolling on my memory and not much else.  It was really hard to be anything other than a fan on Monday night.  I wasn’t thinking about what I was going to write about Watt.  I wasn’t really thinking about anything but the waves of punk rock brilliance rolling off the stage at the Grog Shop.  Watt took the stage, mildly chastised the sound guy for not having any Coltrane playing, thanked folks for coming out on  a work night after his long absence, pulled his bass out of the bag, howled “1,2 surf’s up,” into the mic and launched into “Surfin’ With the Shah.”  After that, there wasn’t a whole lot of critical reflection on my part, just an hour and a half or so of thumping bass and killer tunes.  There are distinct moments that stand out (more on those later), but, for the most part, the night is a blur of amazing music.  It’s maybe a bit cheesy, but I feel lucky to have been five feet from a legend with a close friend while he (the legend) laced through twenty five or so years of music history.  Even better, Watt’s not a nostalgia act in any sense; dude still completely has his fastball.  This is not akin to seeing Southside Johnny at the state fair.  Rather, it’s catching a vibrant musician still in his prime.  (If he was a baseball player, you’d think he was on the juice.)Watt’s partners in time are also crazily talented.  Guitarist and vocalist Tom Watson shredded and wailed with intelligence and half a sneer all night.  His guitar work was varied and consistently interesting and his vocal delivery was just under over the top.  Raul Morales was all over the drum kit, pumping out thunderous and intricate beats for the duration.  To his credit, he didn’t flinch when Watt started punching his cymbals.  Watt’s bass work, predictably, was absolutely top-shelf.  He played with power and subtlety, pulling the strings to the edge of their limits one minute and gently caressing them the next.  Dude is funky as hell.  During “Funhouse.” a clear highlight for the ravenously energetic crowd (and me), he took things way down, then teased notes out, developing a ton of tension with increasingly soft bass riffs and vocals, before the band exploded back up to full volume.  It was a microcosm of the way he conducted the evening; the ebb and flow of energy throughout was masterfully orchestrated.

Other bits stand out: “Big Bang Theory”‘ and the anarchic guitar and drum work there, “Toadies” and it’s catch and release vibe, Watt shifting into elder statesman mode at the end of the show as he thanked folks for coming out, the band retreating behind the speaker cabinet to simulate an encore break.  Overall though, the show was about visceral emotion.  Mike Watt absolutely means it. Three decades deep and it’s still clear that punk rock  changed Mike Watt’s life.  In Cleveland on Monday, he was preaching to the converted, but everybody left with that message a little more deeply ingrained.

Mike Watt and the Missingmen have a ton of dates left.  You need to see them, if only to remind yourself that music isn’t about blogs and buzz and bullshit.  It is about people and the connections they forge with each other through music and sweat.  It took me far too long to see Mike Watt for the first time.  I will not miss him again.  He and the band are also keeping a tour diary on his website.  It’s a good read and well worth checking out.  Since I blew it and didn’t grab any audio, there’s some stuff below from previous Watt endeavors.  The first two are indicative of the work he’s doing now with the Missingmen.  “Surfin’ With the Shah” sounded just as good on Monday as it did in 1985.  Lastly, Watt did not play “History Lesson, Pt. II,” but if that song doesn’t give you goosebumps every time you hear it, you’re kind of an ass.  As such, it’s nice to have an excuse to post it.

“Funhouse” – Mike Watt and the Missingmen, Boulder 2006

“Big Bang Theory” – Mike Watt and the Missingmen, Boulder 2006

“Surfin’ With the Shah” – The Minutemen, San Fransisco 1985

“History Lesson, Pt. II” – The Minutemen, San Fransisco 1985