Images: NOFX, Direct Hit!, Mean Jeans, Illicitor April 18, 2016 at the House of Blues

The first thing NOFX frontman Fat Mike said when he took the stage to a seemingly sold out House of Blues audience was “there’s nothing better than a Monday night in Vegas, except about 3,561 other things.”

Come on Mike, you’re a local at this point and we know you love it here. And the fans certainly love having you here, which became unwaveringly apparent as they erupted into thunderous applause like young fans freaking out during Beatlemania as soon as Mike and his band took the stage.

Since NOFX is out promoting a book – The Hepatitis Bathtub and Other Stories – a history of the band that I’m pretty sure will be at your local library soon (not kidding), the band’s song selection was more or less a greatest hits package. “Murder the Government?” It was played. “Franco Un-American?” It was played, with help from Dance Hall Crashers’ Karina Deniké on keys. “Linoleum?” “The Brews?” A cover of Rancid’s “Radio?” You get where I’m going with this. Perfect setlist.

The band has never been one to stick to the “Less Talk, More Rock” philosophy, though this set featured significantly less banter than the band’s recent PRB performances (which, for the record, is still significantly more than most bands). The band’s main target? Matt Skiba. The Alkaline Trio frontman, best man at Fat Mike’s recent Vegas wedding, and current Tom DeLonge replacement was not only the butt of a few jokes, but the band’s background image during fan favorite “Stickin in my Eye.”

To warm up the crowd, NOFX brought with them Fat Wreck’s two newest signees, Direct Hit! and Mean Jeans. Direct Hit! is a longtime favorite of Punks in Vegas, playing a brand of Midwestern pop punk that is as likely to appeal to Dillinger Four fans as it is zombie and sci fi nerds. Admittedly, the idea of seeing them on this stage, “10 feet above us” as frontman Nick Woods put it, instead of at a cozy bar, seemed like a strange proposition at first.

But as they played through songs like “Werewolf Shame,” “Snickers or Reeses” and “On and On” it quickly became apparent that they were born to rock the big stage. The antics of guitarist/frontman Nick Woods and guitarist Devon Kay get a chance to flourish when they have more room to prance around, especially when in front of an LED banner that misspelled their name as “Dip Shits.”

As a pleasant surprise, more people were singing along than at their last Vegas show, which is awesome and either indicative of the power of the Fat Wreck machine or of constant touring. Members of Rayner and Be Like Max started a pit that lasted the whole set while that group of fans, myself included, sang every word. Mixed in were two new songs that make me want to freeze myself until June so I can hear the new record in full.

Mean Jeans are a band that a drunk guy in a Rancid shirt standing a bit too close to me called “fuckin’ alright…  I guess.” There’s no “I guess” about it, my new friend – these guys just rule. The band’s brand of Ramones style pop punk with guitar solos ripped from Pinkerton is insanely catchy, though it took a song or two to win over the still-growing crowd. Before long, the band had a respectable pit for songs like “Outta Smokes,” “Croozin” (which the band dedicated to all the fans of the Mighty Ducks films) and “Steve Don’t Party No More,” which elicited playful “boos” at the very notion that someone wouldn’t want to party.

And I’m happy to say after doing four or five reviews of locals Good Grief where I’ve compared them to Mean Jeans, I can finally flip it and say: Mean Jeans, these guys really remind me a lot of Good Grief. Someone please get these two bands together on a house show pronto.

Vegas’ own Illicitor started out the night, sounding absolutely fantastic, with Zabi’s bass in particular really shining through the HOB sound system. Illicitor was the only band of the night that doesn’t fall into any subset of “pop,” and it was obvious looking around the quarter filled floor that many Fat Wreck diehards were unsure how to take the band. That tension was broken by their adoption of a bit of the NOFX-style humor, claiming that they got this gig by “sucking a whole lot of dicks,” making this the first PIV review to end with “sucking a whole lot of dicks.”

-Emily Matview

Photos by Aaron Mattern |https://www.flickr.com/photos/akmofoto/