WEDNESDAY
January 16, 2019 | doors at 8:30pm
Sharing is Caring
OK Productions presents:
JON SPENCER & THE HITMAKERS
Subsonics
  • $18
  • $20
  • ADVANCE
  • DAY OF SHOW
JON SPENCER & the HITmakers
SPENCER SINGS THE HITS!
JON SPENCER, THE BLUES EXPLOSION MAN who put the BELLBOTTOMS on BABY DRIVER!
The Top Cat who spread the Secret Sauce in BOSS HOG!
The Rockabilly Right-Hook from Heavyweight Outlaws HEAVY TRASH!
The Swank-Fucking Master of PUSSY GALORE!
Jon Spencer is back! Often imitated, never duplicated, the original NYC underground-rock legend returns from the wilderness with twelve red-hot hits, each more powerful than the last!
This is Garage Punk for Now People! A wizard's brew of rhythm & blues and subversive dance grooves, weaponized with sci-fi skronk and industrial attitude, calibrated for the Revolution, a ball-peen hammer of sound guaranteed to destroy any post-modern hangover!
Pulsing with energy, clanging with excitement, and dripping with radioactive soul and raw emotion, Jon Spencer opens up his heart like never before, exploring man's modern condition with caustic guitars and outerworld crooning, asking and answering the musical question, "Is it possible to torch the cut-throat world of fake news and pre-fab, plastic-coated teen ennui with the cold hard facts of rock'n'roll?"
THE ANSWER IS YES!
SPENCER SINGS THE HITS!
This is the truth serum America has been craving, the beginning of a rock'n'roll special counsel that takes no prisoners and puts the squares on ice!
Recorded and mixed with Bill Skibbe at the Key Club in Benton Harbor, MI.
Featuring the talents of Sam Coomes (Quasi, Heatmeiser) and M. Sord (M. Sord).
Subsonics
At long last, SUBSONICS have descended again upon the denizens of the steamy rock’n’roll jungle with their first album in seven years, "In the Black Spot" (Slovenly Recordings 702-112)! The Subsonics have been called the "Best band in Atlanta" by fellow Georgians BLACK LIPS and for good reason: previous works by this beatnik, noir-punk careen machine have left indelible marks, or black spots if you will, on the psyche of big-bam-boom-shang-a-lang rockers the world over during their nearly two-decade tenure. This new album brings more of singer Clay Reed's petulant, masculine-feminine vocals and surreal lyricism, shaken up with his signature garroted guitar, Buffi Aguero’s inventive, incessantly churning drumming, and Rob Delbueno's (Man, or Astroman?) rolling basement bass. On this latest spin, previously unwritten, yet eerily familiar, melodies ("Lime-Lime" and "Miracle Worker") echo in the catacombs of America's soul and ring throughout with a childish enthusiasm, like a funky delinquent's budget bubblegum album. What we really have here is an obsessive, detached drop-in to an after-hours opium den, where Super-8 movies are projected onto a soiled sheet, and the soundtrack is undeniably Subsonics.