Shoo-Fly Pie at the Bar: J. Robbins (band) at Johnny Brenda’s, 2/23/24
Bitter Branches
J. Robbins (band)
Johnny Brenda’s
Philadelphia, PA
2/24/24
A longtime fan of Jawbox—damn-near 50 and still starstruck—I took the Friday evening drive on the reliably crowded Schuylkill to see J. Robbins (lead presence of the aforementioned Jawbox, who is currently touring as a solo artist) perform in support of his newest effort, Basilisk. Johnny Brenda’s was the spot, so I was Fishtown bound.
Via the marvels of social media, before Friday’s gig I’d connected with Gordon Withers, cellist extraordinaire, who was standing outside the venue with J. Robbins, apparently locked out and awaiting access. Within seconds of reaching the venue I was happy to shake Withers’s hand and exchange pleasantries. With an hour to kill before the opener, an interesting array of circumstances led to me being offered some excellent and personally delivered shoo-fly pie that’d been transported from Kutztown, swallows of Allagash White washing down every forkful. Not a common occurrence by any means.
Note: it was the best, sweetest shoo-fly pie I’ve ever tasted.
9PM: Bitter Branches is a Philly-based AmRep-styled hardcore act whose members boast healthy lineages from the 90s punk scene, including Deadguy, Lifetime, and Kiss It Goodbye. Vocalist Tim Singer matched his throat sonically to the amplified shrapnel the band could grind out, taking rapid occupancy of what space he had available to him on that stage with each shouted stanza. Pairing the annihilative high-energy onslaught of Unsane with the rhythmic idiosyncrasies of The Jesus Lizard, Bitter Branches produced a rush of gratifying aural assault.
At one point during their set, Singer dedicated a track to an audience member wearing an Obituary t-shirt and recounted when his band, Kiss It Goodbye, were kicked off of an Obituary tour after two days because a member took offense at being referred to as “Oh-shit-uary” by Kiss It Goodbye’s bass player. Laughs were had. Singer also made mention of seeing Beastie Boys t-shirts being sold at The Gap.
“Moment of silence for that, please?” he asked with recognizable defeat in his voice.
10PM: J. Robbins (band) took the stage amidst the thick sound of audience members mid-conversation. “How you guys doing?” Robbins asked, cutting through the muck of crowd noise. “This is a classy place.” Conversations immediately shifted to applause and the band—Robbins, Withers, bassist Matt Dowling, drummer Pete Moffett—launched into an opening block of five songs.
Joy. There was a feeling overall that pervaded the mood of the evening, Friday’s gig being the second to last show of the tour cycle for Robbins and Co. The night felt almost celebratory. At one point during “Exquisite Corpse”, lead single from Basilisk, Robbins was mid-solo and smiling, exuding an air of satisfaction that seemed to extend to the rest of the band. They were having fun up there and the obviousness of this set the tone for their entire performance, which was tight to say the least.
“So, sometime between everything stopping and then everything starting again,” Robbins said during a round of crowd engagement, “I made a second record and it just came out, February 2nd. This song is on it, it’s called ‘Old Soul’”. One of the more gorgeous offerings from Basilisk, the intro to “Old Soul” was met with light encouragement in the form of a whistle or shout, but mostly silence from the crowd. Reverence.
Four more songs were performed without much of a gap, the last of which, “The Escape Engine”, (originally recorded by another of Robbins’s projects, Burning Airlines), garnered inquiry from an audience member:
“What’s the song called?”
“What, that song?” Robbins answered. “The song’s called ‘The Escape Engine’. Also the title of a fine short story by J.G. Ballard.” He paused and then followed with, “Just like every other lyric I’ve written.”
Props to Bitter Branches followed along with an amusing roll call of personnel. “This tour is almost over and I have to say it’s been super-fucking-fun,” Robbins stated. “And now I’m going to shut my fucking mouth. This song is called ‘Ray O’ Sunlite’”.
As if beholden to the tradition of the pre-encore walk-off, Robbins, Withers, and Dowling managed to make it offstage, but Moffett didn’t. With the crowd’s insistence for “one more”, the band eschewed heading backstage and just stepped right back up to the platform. “Sorry, that was like a totally cheap gesture,” Robbins said. “We didn’t learn all these songs not to play them. But, also thank you.” Applause ensued.
“It’s not really an encore, it’s just more songs. Seriously, though, how nice of you guys to come out. Really, thank you so much.”
The band promptly tore through a couple more songs. And then it was time to buy some merch and head home.
Postscript: I stood in line for the merch table, intending to buy a copy of Basilisk. Robbins was handling transactions. Unfortunately, copies of Basilisk were sold out, but I was able to acquire his 2019 album, Un-Becoming. After the purchase was made, I did a dumb thing and fell into fanboy mode during our interaction, more or less tongue-tied while trying to explain how much hearing the Jawbox deep cut “68” at 17 years of age meant to me and made me a lifelong fan. I remain unsure how this went over, but Robbins was cool about it and shook my hand. With loss of dignity, I nestled my newly-acquired album under my arm and walked the necessary 5 or 6 blocks to my car.
Sincerely,
Letters From A Tapehead
