The Monsieurs, Free Pizza, Nice Guys (Cantab Lounge 12/5)

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This Friday Cantab lounge opened it’s doors, or rather, it’s basement to the kind of shaky, grinning milieu only punk could create. Leave it to Illegally Blind to curate a lineup like this one, and notably one local to boot. The trio of Nice Guys, Free Pizza and The Monsieurs made for a night of quick and sweaty rock and roll set against Cantab’s “Club Bohemia” signboard. Which frankly, couldn’t be any more fitting.

Walking into Cantab as a first-timer, I quickly realized the venue’s place in Central Cambridge as being something like a spot. Not exactly an institution of sorts, but certainly a place to run into familiar faces and one characterized heavyset, white-haired doorman I’d guess has been employed by the venue longer than I’ve been alive. And despite his age, could probably knock my teeth out. But only if I deserved it.

Cantab’s Club Bohemia isn’t lavish by any means. Which really made it the perfect setting for the work of Nice Guys, the lo-fi Allston four piece who kicked off the night with a seriously unrestrained bang. Like any garagey outfit, the band relied heavily on quick percussion, thick basslines and the snarling intertwined vocals of frontman Alex Aronson and bassist Jake Gilberton. As the band’s first kick of deafening fuzz zipped the room’s pre-show chatter to a close, the audience moved to take in the band somewhat humorlessly. Only when Gilbertson jumped from the stage did things really get going, as the bassist thumped away in the middle of the room’s linoleum floor three songs into their set.

With Gilberton back on stage the band took a turn for the political, as Gilberton yelled out “hands up, don’t shoot!” to the crowd in what was his first turn at speaking into the mic. Showgoers noted this eagerly. Some even chose to answer his quick address by facing the stage with their palms in the air. Just hours earlier, countless protesters filled Harvard and Central square for a die-in consistent with the Black Lives Matter movement. Later in the night saw Nice Guys launch into a tune from their August release, L.A.P.D, an album whose artwork features a 1950’s-esque cartoon cop winking at onlookers while poised to smoke a joint. Mirroring the artwork’s counter to any serious political gripe, the band began their following tune with a much more whimsical preface. “This next song’s about cats.”

“Later in the night saw Nice Guys launch into a tune from their August release, L.A.P.D, an album whose artwork features a 1950’s-esque cartoon cop winking at onlookers while poised to smoke a joint. Mirroring the artwork’s counter to any serious political gripe, the band began their following tune with a much more whimsical preface. “This next song’s about cats.””

The true highlight of the night came with Free Pizza, whose name on the small marquee inside Cantab’s lobby provoked questions from those headed to the upstairs bar. It’s easy to equate the band with actual free pizza. This, of course because of their name, but also their sound, one easily equated with the emotions you’d experience when handed a slice of pepperoni on the house. Free Pizza made for the perfect fill between opener and headliner, the sort of jangley punkish tunes certain to hit you with a twist whimsical aggression. From start to finish the band had the crowd moving like happy, disjointed fools, largely attributed to Jesus Vio’s chubby basslines and perfectly cumbersome baritone. A standout for sure, though Nick Rasmussen’s quick ease on drums should be noted, alongside Santiago Cardenas’ welcome place on guitar.

Though the bulk of Free Pizza’s sound almost called for skanking, some songs came forth in an entirely different light. Take “Freedom Pizza” a tune more fitting of an analeptic square dance than the band’s often surfish standard. But despite the quick change from punk, to western, to the plaintive reality of “Foward,” Free Pizza maintained personality on stage, and was largely a fan favorite. Though it’s safe (and awfully sad) to say, any emotion towards the trio was largely impacted by their recent announcement to move back to Vio and Cardenas’ hometown Miami. After roughly three years in the city, we wish them all the best. Though we wish we didn’t have to.

“The true highlight of the night came with Free Pizza, whose name on the small marquee inside Cantab’s lobby provoked questions from those headed to the upstairs bar. It’s easy to equate the band with actual free pizza. This, of course because of their name, but also their sound, one easily equated with the emotions you’d experience when handed a slice of pepperoni on the house. “

Near the end of Free Pizza’s infectious set came something unusual to any show, as Vio called on the audience to do his vocal work for him. That’s when Tim Manns came into play, a fixture to the local music scene and a stylish one at that. Like any pro, Manns hopped on stage and belted out his own version of an upbeat number. The results where clearly improvised, and surprisingly good. “If you don’t know what I’m talking about/You should probably read the internet/I like what he had to say,” the longhair screamed with an amusingly pleasing timbre. As with other Free Pizza tunes, the song was over almost as quickly as its catchiness worked its way into our bones and got our tones tapping. Manns leapt from the stage in finale, allowing the band to finish off with “Boston, MA,” a number far better than any “Dirty Water” or godforsaken “I’m Shipping Up To Boston.” Long live Free Pizza.

The Monsieurs finished off the night in promotion of their new release, a self-titled full length packed with  classic rock and roll ferocity. Easily the night’s most classically punk act, this blonde outfit followed the true format of power cords, 4/4 beats and the maniacal antics of Tunnel Of Love’s Andy Macbain. The singer took the stage like a warhorse alongside Hilken Mancini and Erin King’s dynamic duo, heightening his presence atop the stage’s bulky amp setup and meeting the crowd with wild eyes. Macbain spewed aggression like a true shirtless pro, working the basement’s yellowed spotlight like a hypnotist’s pocket-watch and capturing the attention of every soul in the room. Earlier, I stood with Free Pizza’s Santiago Cardenas and chatted about The Monsieurs before they took the stage. New to the band, I asked what to expect. With the enthusiasm of a proud parent he looked on with assurance. “Oh man, The Monsieurs make you want to piss your pants and wash your hair with beer.” I couldn’t help but find this funny, and fitting of the act I’d soon experience. Thinking of the act now, I still can’t think of a better way to sum them up. Now, to wash that beer out.