I’ve wanted to see Screaming Females live since 2012 (when I discovered them while working for WSND), and was delighted to see they were playing barely over an hour’s drive from my house last Sunday at the Brass Rail in Fort Wayne, Indiana. They were gracious with their time and kind enough to let me interview them while sitting in their touring van. I’ll have a full transcript of that interview soon, and I’m working on an audio version that I’ll play on a future show on WSND.
The night started with the Ron Gallo 3, a fun punk trio who played a loud set of songs like “Kill the Medicine Man,” “All the Punks Are Domesticated,” and “Why Do You Have Kids?”
Up next were Ft. Wayne’s own Dead Records, who dropped a loud, fast, screaming set on the crowd of friends and new fans.
Screaming Females then got on stage for their first gig in Ft. Wayne. I’m not sure how many people there knew who was about to play, but I saw a few of us singing along within moments. Everyone else stood dumbfounded for the first three songs because Marissa Paternoster, Jarrett Dougherty, and “King” Mike Abbate almost flattened the place.
I’d seen videos of their performances, so I had a slight idea of how powerful they are live (especially in a small venue like the Brass Rail). The videos don’t do them justice. They have a chemistry that can only be created through lots of performances and deep friendships. Paternoster, who is without question one of the best guitarists today, emotes power through her vocals as well as her axe (which she straps around her waist instead of over her shoulder, giving her even more of a gunslinger presence).
As much as Paternoster wields her guitar like Clint Eastwood in A Fistful of Dollars, Dougherty hits his drums like Franco Nero blasts a Gatling gun in Django and Abbate drops his bass riffs like James Coburn drops dynamite in Duck You Sucker. The two guys in the band get into heavy grooves that make Abbate break into grins and Dougherty to go into what appears to be Zen-like meditative trances.
The fans had snapped out of their stunned state by the time the band played “Empty Head” from Rose Mountain. Paternoster thanked everyone for coming to their first Ft. Wayne gig. “Please move here!” A man yelled, echoing the thoughts of everyone in the room.
“Leave It All Up to Me” and “Ripe” were other crowd favorites, and they were cooking with gas by that point.
They closed with the powerful, stunning “Triumph,” which is a fitting end for such a set. It was a triumphant debut for them in a town they hadn’t played in before then.
A friend of former bandmate of mine, Chad, saw the show with me, and he’d only heard one song (“Hopeless”) by the band before seeing them live. He was shaking his head in a bit of disbelief by the end of their set.
“She’s not fucking around, is she?” Chad said.
“No, she’s not,” I told him.
And now I’m telling you. Screaming Females aren’t fucking around.
Keep your mind open.
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[Thanks to Jarrett for getting me a press pass to the show, and to him, Marissa, and Mike for being such groovy cats.]