Vampire Hands have always functioned just slightly outside of what would normally be construed as a standard rock and roll band. Their interesting blend of Krautrock and swirling psychedelia were on display in fine form when they opened the Black Lips show at the Turf Club. The band was set up in a near circle with the drummer out front and the lead guitarist in the back for their nearly 40 minute set. The two “sides” are taken by the two main singers, who also play bass and synths/percussion. This strange tribal setup is match by their boundless energy and pulsing rhythms that are splashed with both Animal Collective-esqe meandering vocals and some haunted falsetto by Bass player/singer Chris B. His vocals are utilized best on the song “No Fun,” which may be the strongest track on their amazing sophomore record Me and You, Cherry Red. The group seems to have tamed down their live act in recent months, but with the more straightforward stage presence has come a new found level of maturity to their songs. Where before they may have gotten lost in the massive soundscapes they were creating, the band now seems totally in control of whatever direction their wildly idiosyncratic music is going. Vampire Hands have been recording some new tracks and will be hitting the road after SXSW with buzz band Wavves for a national tour that will surely bring them some much deserved attention.

Monday night’s Black Lips show at the Turf Club was everything a good rock ‘n roll gig should be: loud, sweaty, spontaneous and sloppy. The band left most of the hijinks to the rowdy crowd and concentrated (for the most part) on the music during their blistering and boisterous set. The band is never going to earn points for their technical skill, but they more than make up for it with youthful exuberance and a dynamic stage presence that proved infectious on this evening, as the crowd took their cue from the band, and built into enough of a swirling mass at the front of the stage for not only a stage dive, but also allowed bassist Jared Swiley to briefly walk on the hands of the audience towards the end of the set.

It took a while for the mayhem to fully kick in though, as the set began with a slipshod version of “Sea of Blasphemy” that found the band still looking to settle on the proper mix of their sound. Things picked up with a fiery version of “I Got A Knife” that Swiley introduced by saying “I don’t know what song this is, but I’m pretty sure it’s good.” And it was. “Dirty Hands” really allowed guitarist Cole Alexander, dressed festively as a punk-rock bandito for the evening, a chance to shine, and also showed the 1960’s surf/garage/psychedelic rock influence that bands like the Troggs and the 13th Floor Elevators have had on the band. For underneath all of the chaos and discord of their songs, there are catchy radio singles from a bygone era.

The whirlwind set continued on, replete with almost comical stage effects like “Magic Time” lighting and the worlds tiniest strobe lights, as well as an amusing smoke machine that seemed to work only when it wanted to. All of this was intended to add to the spectacle unfolding on stage, and seemed to reflect the shambolic, fledgling nature of the band. But without the superb songs at the heart of the set, all of this would have amounted to nothing more than a curious circus sideshow. But the music was blazing, and the crowd responded in kind, as songs like “Make It,” “Drugs” and “Cold Hands” drove the crowd into a frenzy.

The band apparently has moved on from their somewhat notorious stage antics, instead choosing, on this evening at least, to delve more into the energy and impact of their music than their infamous tomfoolery (perhaps they got that out of their system in India). Sure, Alexander caught plenty of his own spit in his mouth, guitarist Ian Saint Pé was proudly displaying his gangsta grill, and microphone stands were knocked into the surging audience as the band thrashed about the stage, but the majority of action was happening in front of the stage and not on it, as the crowd writhed about wildly.

But again, all of that was mere window dressing to the music being played on stage, and with the relentless timekeeping of drummer Joe Bradley keeping the boys on task and the set finely focused (at least for a Black Lips set), the songs were deafeningly loud and thunderous, and the hits kept on coming, with “Bad Kids” being a real standout from the end of the set. And after a noisy, discordant “Juvenile” really set the place off, complete with a random stage diver and Swiley brazenly walking into the crowd, precariously held aloft by the hands of the audience. Totally spent and soaked in sweat, the band sauntered off the stage, with Saint Pé telling the audience “Remember, we’re four friends trying to be musicians, not four musicians trying to be friends.” It was a quick but telling riposte that in the end proves quite accurate, and sums up the appeal of this band. They are guys who clearly are having a good time performing with each other on stage, and that level of merriment easily translates to the audience, who in turn revel in the spectacle of it all. It’s a real give and take relationship that adds up to one hell of a raucous good time.

The band ambled back out for an impromptu three-song encore, tearing into a storming (pardon the pun) version of “O Katrina!” that had the crowd flailing about with impunity. It certainly was one of the highlights of a volatile, rowdy set, and it would have been a good way to end the show. But the band trudged on with a labored version of “I’ll Be With You” that really brought the energy level of the show down considerably. And Saint Pé was thanking the crowd and putting his guitar down for the night when Alexander insisted they couldn’t go out like that and they had to play another song, claiming “That song was too slow. It sucked.” And with that, the band introduced “Workin’” by saying “some jobs are more glamorous than others, but we all have to work,” and they proceeded to tear through the incendiary song that again brought the energy of the crowd to the boiling point. And, as Saint Pé flipped his guitar around to show “Thank You” written on the other side, the crowd and the band were in agreement that THAT was how you end a show.

So, while the show was in no way perfect (what Black Lips show could ever be called perfect, anyway), the band delivered a blistering set that had an energy and a form of release that all in attendance were searching for on the last Monday night of Winter. Those people who go to a Black Lips show expecting technical brilliance and awe-inspiring skill will invariably be disappointed by the hot mess that is bound to unfold on stage, but people who go to a Black Lips show to have a genuinely good time and bask in the chaotic beauty that is rock ‘n roll have most assuredly found their Pied Pipers.

[Vampire Hands by Josh Keller, the Black Lips by Erik Thompson, photos by Jon Behm, videos by Chris DeLine]

Black Lips: Official | MySpace | Wikipedia
Vamprie Hands: MySpace

Also: (Expanded video footage of the Black Lips @ St. Paul’s Turf Club)