Friday night, I was 16 again, except for the part about needing a fake ID to get into the club. If there wasn't a good time being had by anyone and everyone in the vicinity of Knuckleheads, well, it's on them, because all the ingredients were assembled for them—all they had to do was shake.

 

Deco Auto got things rolling, and the only problem I had with their set was that it wasn't long enough. Seriously, seven songs? These guys deserve more. Steven Garcia just wails, both his vocals and his guitar; Tracy Flowers maintains the power pop beat with some of the most right-on bass playing in Kansas City, or anywhere else for that fact. The band is rounded out with Pat Tomek on drums. You know who he is. He's the unnamed drummer who not only didn't object, but probably thought it was a grand idea for Steve, Bob & Rich to change their name and become The Rainmakers.

 

But they're resourceful and made the most of what they had to work with, and played mostly new stuff from the new LP The Curse of Deco Auto (which is awesome and you should buy a copy). They closed with a crowd favorite, “The Mercy Kind.” I can only imagine the speeding tickets that song has inspired.

 

Deco Auto opening for The English Beat was like a pyromaniac gleefully setting a blaze, and then watching with smug satisfaction as the headliner fanned the flames.

 

And fan the flames they did. For two hours, they burned down the house. If you haven't gotten it by now, I'll just tell you… I had a great time. For a few hours I was as carefree as I was when they provided the soundtrack of my youth, and that was the effect they wanted to have. The Beat has a new album coming out next month, and the playlist interspersed songs from it with the songs of our youth that most of the attendees came to hear… “Tears of a Clown,” “Save it for Later,” “Hands Off…She's Mine,” “Mirror in the Bathroom,” “Twist & Crawl”… they knew what several hundred people turned out on a glorious May evening for, and they did not disappoint. For more than two hours they had the crowd on their feet, dancing and skanking (relax, it just means 'boogying' in ska-speak) and forgetting all about the babysitters that were on the clock and making more than the revelers made in their first two or three jobs combined. But no one cared, because the show they came for… they got.

 

--Tammy Booth