Supersuckers - The Last Chance, Gunnison CO - October 13, 2013

[Tuscon/Seattle] It really happened. The Supersuckers themselves visited little ol’ Gunnison – I didn’t believe it until I saw Eddie Spaghetti standing by the pool tables by himself watching baseball on a screen on the wall in his fuck-you-I’m-cooler-than-you sunglasses. So I’m not sure the visit was entirely successful. As per my last four reviews, this band always inspires mixed emotions for me, but in contrast to previous patterns of disdain to worship, this time it was more like anticipation to eh. They’re assholes. They’re the self-proclaimed “Greatest Rock & Roll Band in the World.” And in some crazy sense they’re right. They celebrate all of the clichés of rock (ridiculous posturing, offensive attitude, holding their guitars up to the guitar gods after every song) and then they back it up with very tight engaging garage punk. They somehow manage to celebrate and mock everything rock n roll all at the same time. It’s not like they weren’t assholes in Austin, but more that their asshole-ness didn’t translate as well in Gunnison. In small towns, people are genuine, and everything is personal. So when Eddy yelled at the crowd that it felt more like a Tuesday than a Saturday night, it was personal. Especially because the crowd was excellent. The mass of mad moshing men & women, slipping on a wet floor, over dropped phones and dropped pieces of pizza. What exactly were they expecting touring through towns of 5000? I guess it’s tough to be a B-level rockstar, to be a band’s band whom most people don’t know despite a reasonably successful career. They’ve also got a lot of stupid frat-boy lyrics and refused to play Jackalope for me. So big B for you, Supersuckers. In other news, all of the rumors I’d heard about Last Chance over my 1 year and 2 months in the town came to fruition. I’d found the reputation of the bar a little offensive – a little classist if you will. Well… I’ve been to lots and lots of shows that could have been interpreted as dangerous but I generally find people are there for a reason no matter what they look like: the music. The vibe in this former shit-kicking bar was worrisome - these guys were surly, even to a harmless little woman like myself (if they weren’t surly, they were worrisomely handsy). It was a fucking, fighting sort of place – I think someone even had a t-shirt communicating a message like that. So there was one fight, then there was another, and then there was another...  At one point, a good half of the mosh pit was in a solid ball of brawl and maul, and The Supersuckers carried on – Rockboy was very disappointed in the band for their missed opportunity for enlightenment. Disappointedly (for my worth as a person), I was less virtuous and more fascinated. I wondered, “Why do guys love to fight?” and thought “Thank god I’m not a guy.” Maybe I’ll watch The Fight Club again to find answers to these questions. The person who upset me more was the incredibly intense and very effective bouncer – he used all manners of shoves, neck pinches, and head grips to wrestle men apart and out of the bar. As we left, a girl was screaming back towards the bar that the bitch better watch out because she’d be back with her car. Like TheBestAfroInTown said: “White people.”