BY LIANA KATZ

In print | May 1, 2008

When high-end fashion designer John Varvatos moved into the space once occupied by New York’s legendary CBGBs, it seemed as if punk rock had finally met its end. Last Friday’s Olde Club lineup, which featured Cheap Time and Jay Reatard, rebuffed mourners and cynics alike, proving that punk is still alive and kicking.

Cheap Time opened the night like a train speeding down the tracks towards a fiery wreck. Hailing from Nashville, the trio looked like a slickly disaffected indie outfit but played with the fury of teenagers cooped up in their parents’ garage. With a powerful drumbeat rolling in the background, Cheap Time ripped through a handful of songs that couldn’t have been more than two minutes each.

Three-chord progressions, thudding bass and unintelligible vocals were the hallmark of the songs that the band played off of their recently released LP. In addition to simple melodies, Cheap Time also brought incredible energy to the Olde Club stage. Pausing only to count out ““1-2-3” between each song, the band ended its set soaked in sweat. The modestly sized audience responded in kind to Cheap Time’s enthusiasm and bobbed approvingly with the beat.

Jay Reatard and his Reatards began where Cheap Time left off and performed a breakneck and electrifying show to a now seething crowd. As with Cheap Time, appearances were deceiving. While the Reatards trio may have looked and head-banged like characters pulled from Wayne’s World, they played with unmatchable drive and ferocity. With no time to waste, Reatard powered through songs from a variety of his most recent releases, shouting out the title of each track. Blending Ramones-style blitzkrieg punk with scaled back rock riffs, the Reatards evoked the spirit of the late 1970s when black leather jackets were cool and music was rawly “do-it-yourself … It was refreshing to have two bands that played fast-paced garage punk instead of lethargic indie pop,” Robin Lipp ‘10 said.

Despite the band’s punk roots, its sound was incredibly tight due to Reatard’s extensive musical experience. Having dropped out of high school to play guitar and record demos, the Tennessee native was signed to a label at age 17. Now 27, he has released 18 full length albums and has gained a reputation for wild live performances. In a recent interview with SPIN magazine, Reatard admitted that he is trying to bring a more studied component to his recordings. “I used to be in bands where the focus was on making the loudest, most annoying sounds we could. Now I’d rather figure out how to make four chords work the right way,” Reatard told journalist David Marchese.

All of Reatard’s practice paid off as the audience thrashed the night away. However, what did bother Olde Club goers was the fact that his time on stage seemed truncated.

“I’m glad I came and I had a lot of fun … I just wish that [Reatard] had played a longer set,”” Sarah Ifft ‘09 said. For all of his fabled antics (beer bottle throwing, spitting, fistfights– to name a few), Reatard also seemed remarkably tame. His most feral moment came at the end of the night when, crouched over an amp, he alternately screamed and violently abused the strings of his guitar. The subhuman wail that filled Olde Club resonated with the core element of punk that is not afraid of being disgusting, dirty and dangerous. For the most part, the biggest threat came not from Reatard’s music but from overzealous moshers.

So, next time you play at Swarthmore, Jay Reatard, challenge us a little, make us scared. A longer set might also be nice.

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