
Once upon a time in a town called
On Friday, September 28th at the Casbah in
Wild in the streets. Erratic and unprofessional. Jaded and enthusiastic rantings of a menace to pop culture. Anti-plastic. Wild sounds. Maximum resistance. Hardcore Noise and Soul.

Once upon a time in a town called
On Friday, September 28th at the Casbah in

Upon further investigation, I found Ms. March to have quite an impressive discography. Her first recordings were made in New York in the late '80s using her real name, Elinor Blake, in The Pussywillows. In 1991, she began her career as April March and formed The Shitbirds. She's collaborated with The Bassholes, and Los Cincos, among others, and was the singer for The Haves. Jonathan Richman has made a rare guest appearance on some of her recordings. She's even recorded with Brian Wilson. In 1997, April March teamed up with northwest garage prodigies, The Makers, for the release of, April March Sings with The Makers, on Sympathy For The Record Industry, and her song, Chick Habit, is featured in the Quentin Tarantino action flick, Death Proof.
Sometimes a band comes around that makes me feel like a kid again. In the way that I experience the same wonderment I felt when I first started to discover the sounds of the underground. Back when finding The Ramones End of The Century in my stepsister's record collection was the kind of discovery that could change the entire course of my life. To this day, rock and roll remains the most exciting thing I've ever encountered in this world, and I'm excited about The Sess (pronounced Se-sh).
Last Sunday I popped into The Pink Elephant in North Park to catch a matinee show that had caught my interest upon the recommendation of the two people who have turned me onto more awesome music than anyone or anything else in my life. The Sess took the stage and they took me by surprise, bursting straight out of the cacophonous swirl of warm up noise straight into a tight, spectacular, harmonious powerpop blitzkreig that had me grinning and bouncing on my toes. I was frantic with excitement. Discovery!
The San Diego quintet isn't trying to reinvent rock and roll and yet their honest interpretation of it has a freshness that gives their music a unique sound. I kept feeling like I was hearing something familiar, but there was no distinct derivation in it. The music was simply evocative of the feeling one gets when they hear music that's amazing and perfect. Like discovering Sonic Youth, Jonathan Fire Eater, Guided By Voices, or The Soundtrack Of Our Lives for the first time. I thought, "This shit is genius."
Or is it?
The music is definitely devoid of pretense. And I don't think The Sess are even caught up in caring if their music is genius or not. I think they're just happy writing honest, catchy rock and roll that feels good to play, because it feels right.
I wonder if this band knows just how good they are, or if they mask this knowledge with a guise of humbleness that makes them that much more appealing. After experiencing their show I was enamored. I wanted to meet them, to make sure they know just how important what they're doing is to people like me who make rock and roll their religion. I must have come across like some starstruck teenage girl, a potential obsessed fan turned stalker. Their set was like a shot of pure adrenaline to me and I was bouncing off the walls.
With a band like The Sess, it's as if they're tapped into some secret something that most bands, sadly, will never realize. They are enlightened. They're in the club.
The Sess have a two song seven inch (a side: Fuck The Navy b side: Don't Look Back) on Single Screen Records.
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