The Bosstones: Reaching Out at Great Woods

The Mighty Mighty Bosstones have arrived. This truth finally hit home a couple of weeks ago -- not because of all the MTV airplay, or the upcoming features in glossy magazines, or because they were headlining Great Woods' season opener a week ago Wednesday, above established brand-name favorites L7 and the Offspring (plus Tree, Bim Skala Bim, and AFI). What did it was the second time I heard "The Impression That I Get" (currently the nationwide hit single off their fifth album, on Mercury, Let's Prove It) played between faceoffs during a Colorado Avalanche home playoff game. When they play your shit at out-of-town hockey games, it's Miller time.

With Let's Prove It poised to go gold, a David Letterman gig scheduled for mid June, "The Impression That I Get" scaling the modern-rock charts, and a fresh stack of Phoenix/WFNX Best Music Poll awards under their belts, who could blame the Bosstones for a trophy gig like last Wednesday's Great Woods show? Growler Dicky Barrett assured the 11,000-strong crowd that the Bosstones aren't permanently abandoning the clubs (while hinting that they'd like to make the one-off shed show a summer tradition). After years of building up a national circuit, they're finally on the cusp of substantial mainstream recognition -- and here at home, the band took a moment to bask in the high-beam glory reserved for superstar prodigal sons, war heroes, Aerosmith, stuff like that.

"I am so proud of you guys," gushed Barrett as he took the stage in Travolta-ish white suit, black shirt, white tie, and shades. "I hate to swear because my mom's here, but fuck I love you guys, and you're making me look really good in front of my mom. Thank you." As the Bosstones ripped through a career-retrospective set -- playing material off every album and EP they've released thus far -- what was most impressive was the way they've been able to reinvent themselves and their songs, the way they've made the transition from plaid-clad Converse-ad novelty to the hardest-working band in Boston rock. "We're gonna have do something about my dry cleaner," clowned Barrett. "This suit was plaid before I took it to the cleaners."

The suit wasn't the only thing that was cleaner -- the new sober-minded Bosstones are a tighter outfit than they've ever been. The show ran along the lines of an old soul revue, with Barrett as itinerant jive-ass frontman playing off the steadfast, power professionalism of the "Hurtin' for Certain" horns, and back-up vocalist/dancer Ben Carr providing right-hand-man support. A retooled "Dr. D" got introduced as a "swing number," with members of tourmates the Pie Tasters beefing up the brass. "Let's Face It" came off as a slick soul-ska take on "Tears of a Clown"-era Smokey Robinson. And the straight-up ska of the new album's "Rascal King" and "Royal Oil" bled into the hits: "Where'd You Go," "Kinder Words," "Someday I Suppose."

And as an ebullient "1-2-8" segued into a tight reworking of their old-school ska-core rave-up "Hope I Never Lose My Wallet," Barrett addressed what may be the Bosstones' biggest challenge as they make the leap from theaters to sheds. "Nice and easy," he advised the front row of revelers as they clamored to jump up on stage. "There's 10,000 people here. I'm not gonna pull you all on stage." The Clash had roughly the same problem 20 years ago -- how do you maintain the intimacy of the audience-performer relationship when suddenly your fan base explodes exponentially? The Clash never resolved that dilemma, and they imploded. Last Wednesday, with Barrett splitting his time between the front-row trench and on-stage dance routines with Carr, the Bosstones seemed to have the answer. Barrett still stuck the mike out at arm's length during the choruses; the kids were a little farther away, so they just had to shout a little louder.

-- Carly Carioli