Images: Screeching Weasel, The Dickies, The Queers July 14, 2016 at the Beauty Bar

Fans of the old school Lookout Records scene don’t just like pop punk, they worship it. And while the uninitiated would scratch their heads as to why we would be willing to stand outside in the dreaded Las Vegas heat to see guys in their 40s, 50s and 60s sing about farting, young love and high school, there was absolutely no way I was missing a show featuring Screeching Weasel, The Dickies and The Queers!

I arrived at the Beauty Bar early, as the venue has gained a reputation as one of the few that abstain from the dreaded “punk time.” This was a three band show and the first band was going on promptly at 8:15 – and when that first band is The Queers, you don’t want to be late.  As a pleasant surprise, the venue was already full as the guys took the stage, making the whole thing feel a lot more like a Punk Rock Bowling gig and less like Vegas on a work night.

Frontman Joe Queer introduced his band as “the best fucking pop punk band in the world” which is a bold statement considering his tourmates, but that friendly competition drove the band to the best performance I’ve seen from The Queers. Last time I caught them at Beauty Bar, I commented on how it was great to hear the old favorites played live, but the actual performance was a bit sloppy. I’m not entirely sure if Joe Queer has a new backing band or it’s just that these guys have more time playing together under their belt, but the band sounded great.

“I Hate Everything” earned the first of many pits of the night, “Ursula Finally Has Tits” allowed Queer to show off his impressive shredding skills while the crowd happily took over vocals on the “dammit we’re excited!” line, “Noodle Brain” got middle fingers in the air and a blisteringly fast cover of “Sheena Is a Punk” was awesome, but made me a bit disappointed at how few people sang along (it wasn’t just for lack of Ramones enthusiasm – there was a noticeable lack of singalongs the entire night). “Thanks for making this show happen despite the bullshit” said Queer at the end of the band’s set (the show was originally a Dickies/Queers co-headliner at Backstage Bar before picking up Weasel and moving to LVCS and finally Beauty Bar) before ending things with “Fuck the World.”

“Two of the best punk bands ever are up next” became Queer’s version of “goodbye” and it was also very accurate. The Dickies are the one band on the bill I didn’t grow up listening to, but after being turned on to them thanks to a show-stealing performance at Punk Rock Bowling in 2010, I quickly became a fan. That’s largely due to the charisma of frontman Leonard Graves Phillips. The guy might be a few months shy of hitting 60, but his youthful energy would make it easy to mistake him for a young boy, or at least a young boy in the vein of Francis Ford Coppola’s “Jack.”

Phillips pulled off some dance moves best described as “Austin Powers-meets-Gidget” on “I’m Ok, You’re Ok,” performed a series of jumping jacks for “Give It Back,” became a genie in a bottle for “(I’m Stuck In A Pagoda With) Tricia Toyota” and used his epic imagination to turn a beach towel into a superhero cape as guitarist Stan Lee shredded through “Gigantor.” I honestly don’t know how he keeps the wild energy going. I’m half his age and I not only ran out of breath standing their watching the show, but also sitting here writing this review.

The highlight of The Dickies’ set came when Phillips whipped out a penis puppet for “If Stuart Could Talk.” I’m pretty sure if the frontman ever tired of the whole punk thing, he could easily create a twisted children’s show with the Wonder Showzen guys.

Chants of “Weasel! Weasel” started as soon as The Dickies wrapped up and only got louder by the time frontman Ben Weasel tossed his mic stand aside in favor of holding it tight. “They told us we had no fans in Vegas” chimed Weasel as he looked around the crowded bar. “I guess they were wrong.” And when a fan shouted “go bananas!” Weasel replied “sounds good to me.” And it was on.

Screeching Weasel’s first show in Vegas in… more years than I care to remember was filled with nothing but the hits. “Slogans” had the circle pit of fans stopping only to shout the song’s “na na na nas.” “Guest List” received a similar reaction for its “Whoa ohs.” “What We Hate,” ” Veronica Hates Me,” and the “The Science of Myth” all enjoyed similar floor engulfing circle pits (though again, there were surprisingly few people actually singing along) while “The First Day Of Summer” and the sweat dripping down my back reminded me that man, how was it still pushing triple digits in this town three hours after the sun went down?

Now it wouldn’t be a Screeching Weasel review without addressing the elephant in the room. Ben Weasel has enjoyed a reputation as a heel for a good long time now. Think “Hollywood Hogan” compared to the cuddlier “Hulk Hogan” persona. And while that reputation has exploded over the past few years, and I find it difficult to figure out where that persona and real-life guy diverge, I will say that on this night, Weasel was as gracious and humble as they come. Large portions of the stage banter was dedicated to giving thanks; to TJ of Suckerpunch Concerts, who picked up the show and packed the venue in just 9 days, to the soundman, for making the band sound great, to the “two legendary bands who opened the show” and to the crowd, who proved that yes, there are still Weasel fans in Vegas.

With no green room and the backstage literally being a brick wall, the pop punk band abstained from the usual end of set trickery and followed main set-ender “The Science of Myth” with an encore that included five more songs from the band’s seminal 1991 album My Brain Hurts. “Making You Cry,” “Fathead,” “Kamala’s Too Nice” the title track and a cover of Johnny Nash’s “I Can See Clearly Now”  brought the grand total of MBH songs played to 13, just one shy of a full playthrough (we’d have to travel to Santa Ana on July 16 to see the whole thing).

Screeching Weasel ended their encore by dubbing themselves the “outsider’s outsiders” and promising to shake each and everyone in the audience’s hand after playing “Cool Kids.” I never got to see Screeching Weasel in their prime, but the new guys backing Ben played tight and getting to sing along to “yeah it’s a real cool club and you’ll never be a part of it” was every bit as fun now as it was when I was 14.

-Emily Matview

Photos by Anthony Constantine | https://www.facebook.com/anthonycphotography