There is little as invigorating as a night of pure rock and
roll and Rick Barton’s Continental brought the goods to the Tralf on Friday
night. The venue has been fallow recently,
putting up a show or two a month, but recently has doubled-down on showcasing
some amazing national indie acts.
Opener, The Barksdales, played melodic punk in the vein of very early
Goo Goo Dolls or early 90’s Long Island/NYC bands like Weston. It was well played, hit all of the right
spots, and songs rarely overstayed their welcome. That was the good. The bad?
Well, the guitar was mixed too low in the mix (and lacked any real low
end – perhaps the result of furiously down-stroking barre chords on a Gibson hollow-body?)
and there was something kinda suspect about a band that has only been around on
the scene for just more than year playing “punk” through Orange amps and ribbon
mics (and the less said about the drummer’s wireless headset mic, the
better!) The set-up looked more
befitting a vintage rockabilly combo, one that had logged some miles and earned
the right to use that kind of equipment.
Again, well-played but an odd contrast.
Rick Barton’s newish combo, Continental, on the other hand
oozed sincerity and authenticity.
Despite being plagued with a bum amp through the opening duo of brand
new songs (which still sounded amazing despite the lack of Barton’s trademark
chug….and way to step up and loan an amp and guitar, Barksdales!), Continental played a
tight and passionate set of new and classic tunes. Barton’s voice, sounding like a street
version of Nick Lowe, has never been as supple and his time as front man has
helped hone his instrument. More than
capably backed by son Stephen on bass, a phenomenal 19-year old drummer and
shit-hot lead guitarist (whose tasteful leads were equal parts Billy Zoom and Mike
Ness), the band sound much hungrier live than on record and played with a
tightness that belies the members’ ages.
It’s clear that Barton runs a tight ship (being lead on a painting crew
as a dayjob for 33 years will instill that type of discipline), and the
attention to detail has paid off – songs started and stopped on a dime and the
playing crackled without being unnecessarily flashy.
None of this would matter, however, if the
songs weren’t any good, but Barton has always been an intuitive and sympathetic
writer and he has lived enough life to imbue his songs with sincerity and
honesty. Standouts like album lead “Curious
Spell” and “Wrecking Ball” from their debut ep were more muscular in their live
incarnations, but Barton went straight for the heart and gut by digging out
perhaps the best track he ever wrote with the Dropkicks, “The Torch”. Perhaps it’s the passing of time or simply living
in an underdog Rust Belt town , but the song (always emotional) took on a
mythic quality and the combination of Barton’s chords and voice made this grown
man crumble. And that is the true
measure of art…does it make you feel something?
In his matter-of-fact and own unassuming way, Barton’s Continental were
able to answer that with a resounding yes.
No encores, no frills, but full hearts and honest songs…thanks, gents,
for giving it your all! (And you have to respect any performer who personally goes and thanks each attendee in the audience and passes out band stickers...a true class act...)
P.S. Rick was
generous enough to speak with me after the show at length about the group, his
relationship with his son, and his life.
Stay tuned for the full interview!
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