Sweet 75: Krist Novoselic Does the Roxy
"Well, she's no Kurt Cobain." That was one friend's chagrined mid-set reaction
to former Nirvana bassist Krist Novoselic's new trio Sweet 75 when they opened
for Dinosaur Jr. at the Roxy last Thursday. The "she" is singer/bassist and
former Seattle busker Yva Las Vegas, an intimidatingly stocky Latino woman who
hit the stage outfitted like an old-school punk rocker, with short-cropped
dyed-blue hair, a dog collar around her neck, basic black jeans, a T-shirt, and
stomping boots. And, yeah, as visually impressive as she was, Yva really didn't
have any of the scruffy charisma of a Kurt Cobain.
In sharp contrast to Las Vegas's class-of-'77 get-up, Novoselic stuck to the
clean-cut tie-and-jacket look he's been cultivating for the past few years as
the founder and leader of the Joint Artists and Music Promotions Political
Action Committee (JAMPAC) in Seattle. (At last year's South by Southwest music
conference in Austin, Novoselic stressed the importance of donning the proper
attire for political activism in a well-articulated speech on fighting
censorship.) When he walked on to the Roxy stage wearing a Nixon mask,
shoulders hunched, both hands in the Nixonian victory sign, I was gripped by
horrifying visions of Lee Atwater's Bush-campaign guitar cameos. But Novoselic
is still a gutsy player, and there was joy to be had in watching all six and a
half feet of him bouncing around up there, slashing at his 12-string guitar,
emitting a dense shower of angular chords.
Unfortunately that wasn't nearly enough to carry Sweet 75's 12-song set.
Unlike his former bandmate Dave Grohl, who's turned out to have a surprising
talent for channeling the grunge-pop spirit (as well as the frayed vocals and
churning guitars) of Kurt Cobain into his
Foo Fighters, Novoselic
seems to be reaching back to the primitive punk and post-punk sounds that once
inspired two Aberdeen outcasts to form Nirvana. There were hints of the
Raincoats in the jangly, mid-tempo mood of one tune and, in much of the set,
strong reminders of the dark, aggressive hardcore (T.S.O.L., early Social
Distortion, Flipper) that dominated the West Coast in the early '80s, including
the thrashy "Bite My Hand" and a Melvins-like sludge to the bottom-heavy bass
lines Las Vegas favored. The dearth of engaging melodies, sharply defined
hooks, or even a sense of ironic playfulness left a void too big to be filled
by Novoselic's celebrity. And to judge by the poor turnout last Thursday (only
around 800 of the 1500 tickets to the Roxy show had been sold by the time Sweet
75's set was over), people either don't know that Novoselic has a new band or
don't care.
The folks at Nirvana's old label, Geffen, still care enough to give
Novoselic's new outfit, which was originally powered by former Ministry drummer
Bill Rieflin, a shot. (Rieflin has since been replaced by Alan Wade.) An
as-yet-untitled Sweet 75 debut is due August 12. But if the Roxy show is an
accurate indication of how the disc is going to be received, then Novoselic
probably shouldn't put his politicking on the back burner just yet.
-- Matt Ashare