Concert Review: August 1994

Vanilla Trainwreck and Thee Hypnotics @ The Zephyr Club

The warm-up concert for Livestock on the Tuesday beforehand. The Zephyr Club stage featured a true retro band, and the audience members experienced the ’60s as they really were. More on that later.

A few came to see Vanilla Trainwreck. I say a few because the record label fell down in their job of supporting the band. If no one knew Vanilla Trainwreck was playing, it was because the record label didn’t tell anyone. That’s the kind of support I’d want if I were a struggling musician touring the United States. Oh well, Juliana Hatfield and Frente pay the bills.

The Trainwreck guys weren’t all that great. They performed an ear-splitting set of headache-inducing noise and almost begged the audience members for a place to spend the night. Don’t blame it on us Vanilla, blame the record company.The Trainwreck guys finally relinquished the stage, and the event of the week set up.

Thee Hypnotics had some label support—at least the press in town knew they were coming. Not that the write-ups did any good, because most in town were saving their energy for Saturday when the has-beens would hit the town. Thee Hypnotics are some skinny little English guys with black hair—except for the drummer who looks like Mark Eaton‘s brother Lurch. He’s about seven feet tall even sitting behind the drum kit.

This group took the stage and launched into the most powerful set of acid rock I’ve seen since The Wrecking Crew took out the Terrace Ballroom. The lead singer, Jim Jones, had the Jagger/lggy moves groupies wet their panties over. The bassist had a huge red one, the model of which I couldn’t make out. The two guitarists smoked long filtered cigarettes as they cranked out the most amazing blues-drenched rock and roll I’ve heard since Blind Faith broke up and Winwood left Traffic for pop stardom.

The ’60s returned for one night only in Salt Lake City. It didn’t cost $150 plus airfare to New York. It didn’t cost $10 to watch balding gray-beards (minus the lead singer) crank out tired hits. It wasn’t Woodstock and it wasn’t the Livestock Festival. But, for $5 and the price of drinks, you could have experienced exactly what those of us old enough (and with the mental capacity to remember) went through back in the day. I walked out of the Zephyr shaking my head in disbelief and wondering what I’d just witnessed. The air was filled with patterns before my eyes. The sidewalk moved, the air breathed and tracers followed cars down the street. I saw God and Jesus and laughed all the way home. –Zig Zag Man

Read more from the SLUG Archives:
Local Review: American White Trash by Dinosaur Bones
Victims Willing: A Band You Can Count On