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Trio of five >> Slaphappy 5: too fast to live, too smart to die but not smart enough to count by RUPERT BOTTENBERG
Drummer Jackie Gallant has been spotted smacking the skins for Fidget and dance troupe La La La Human Steps. Bassist Michael Burns (Chris's brother, eh!) moonlights with Steak 72. Chris Burns himself can be held accountable for the improvised idiocy of 1-2-3-Go!, Nutsak, and lately, the Colonel Dink Bummore Show. Tracing the lineage of these bands proves the Appalachian inbreeding of the local music scene: Detention's Sam Shalabi, Rick Trembles and André Asselin of the American Devices, cartoonist Howard Chackowizc, all as interchangeable as Lego pieces. Through it all, though, Slaphappy 5 remain, close to a decade old and still going strange. Too dumb to give it up, perhaps? Twenty seconds: "The Rolling Stones? No, Elvis and the Beatles... yeesh... Smudge? I think that is a band. Smidge? And, uhhh... Music Sucks..." Not in the case of this punchdrunk faux-quintet it doesn't. They classify their sound as 'racket roll,' a convoluted, caffeinated kaleidoscope of punchy, problematic pop. "I had a good analogy for it the other day," says Burns. "I look after kids frequently, right? A nanny musician. I went to the schoolyard to pick up some kids after school. You know how you're there, there are all the parents standing around, and you can feel that excitement in the air, in the class, and it's starting to get a little loud, and then the bell goes and it's just chaos! All these kids come scrambling out, they go running and bumping into each other and they find their parents and then boom! It's quiet again. I was thinking, 'That's kind of like a Slaphappy tune.'" That prepubescent glee comes through in every respect of Slaphappy 5's music. Come on, how seriously can you take a band that titles a song "The Dawn of Crack," or christens their forthcoming show the Late Spring Shing-Ding-a-Ling. It's a loot bag of grade-school goofiness, weird-assed wordplay and kneejerk guitar jitters. A frenzy of cross-eyed, cornball fun with an undercurrent of genuine cleverness too strong to dismiss. Call it an idiot-savant thing, if you want. Forty seconds: "Twenty Seconds Til Nonexistence... uh, Bland Band 3000... Uhhh... I'm drawing a blank here!" That's okay, Chris, time's up. You can take five now. At Hotel 2 Tango (173A Van Horne) with Blowhard, Scat Rag Boosters, the Colonel Dink Bummore Show and Men, Women & Chainsaws. Saturday, May 30, 9pm, $4
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Alright, go. "Uhhh... the Fudge Beef Explosion... the Pickled Beri-Beris... ay-yi-yi... the Flattop Bloopers..." I've given Slaphappy 5 guitarist Chris Burns exactly 60 seconds to come up with as many new band names as he can. Not just to reflect the maniacally high-speed inventiveness of his trio, but also the rate at which Burns and his bandmates bang out odd little side projects, from legitimate we-gotta-CD affairs to one-offs and what-the hell-was-that kinda things.