Off the couch

After a week of low-grade flu, when couch sores begin to set in, and your right thumb develops a callus from hitting the buttons on the remote, it’s time to look for something better to do. You know the feeling—that moment when suddenly you feel better, or at least good enough to go out and cause a reasonable amount of trouble.

So, what to do? This being “Rocktober,” you hanker for some 1970s-style buttrock, the kind to which you can thrust your butane lighter skyward with utter conviction, but the Roadhouse in Robla doesn’t have Y&T and Montrose coming in until Friday, November 1. Or so says the club’s Web site, under the page heading “June’s Upcoming Bands.” Oops. Of this week’s attractions, the logo for Habeas Corpus (Thursday) looks rather Enigma Records circa 1987, the kind of logo a band would have if its members go around saying stuff like, “Those insane Norwegians, they are false metal; they are not the true worshippers of Odin.” Funk-rock band Mama’s Pride (Friday) plays around town quite frequently, but a mullet-head tribute combo that’s either called Creagles or Heartache Tonight (Saturday), as far as we can tell, doesn’t. As the moniker implies, this must be an Eagles cover band that also does Creedence Clearwater Revival tunes, along with the occasional Bob Seger Chevy truck commercial.

If that’s a little too 1970s for you, the Roadhouse (1556 Bell Avenue, which runs parallel to I-80 a couple of blocks north of the Raley Boulevard exit, just west of the former McClellan Air Force Base) has some prime 1980s nostalgia lined up on Friday, November 22: the Dead Kennedys. Apparently, Jello Biafra won’t be part of these festivities, as he had a not-so-amicable parting with East Bay Ray, Klaus Fluoride and D.H. Peligro sometime back. Instead, the Dead Kennedys lined up Brandon Cruz, the kid on 1960s TV sitcom The Courtship of Eddie’s Father, to front the band, which looks like what might happen if the Rolling Stones fired Mick Jagger and roped Jerry Mathers in to take his place. Should be a novel way to mark the 29th anniversary of the assassination of a certain dead president, don’t you think?

I don’t want to pick on the Roadhouse for a bad booking joke; there are a few other feeble attempts at humor around town. Take Old Ironsides’ new buttrock DJ night every Thursday, with DJ Roger Carpio spinning “hair bands, glam rock and punk” sides for trendies to lean against the bar and snark at. Please. Betting pool starts right here on how long this great idea lasts; at least give Old I credit for booking a couple of live bands to go on early.