Young, loud, and snotty

The Marvels crash the local music scene with wit, cynicism, and stinky, three-chord punk

by Pete Hodgin

"This is for all the frat boys over at the 6gig show," Zim, guitarist for Portland's newest four-piece punk outfit, the Marvels, announces with a smirk, eliciting a smattering of laughter and applause from the mass of shaved heads and dark eyeliner swarming around the stage at the Better End. The dis is nailed home as the band launches into the opening riffs of Survivor's "Eye of the Tiger," a latter-day anthem for the Greco-American athletic community, before positively erupting into "The Man Song" (from the film Orgazmo) with sweaty, amped-up, punk-rock abandon. The Marvels are officially off the Ultimatum Records Christmas list, and frankly, they couldn't care less.

Zim and Marvel's drummer, Nate, moved up from Florida a short time ago and hooked up with Staffy, a growling, green-haired vocalist, and Shawn, a bassist with local hardcore rockers Lowlife. Having played a couple shows together in the area, the Marvels already regard parts of the local music scene as hellbent on mediocrity.

Talking at a dimly lit table in Geno's, Zim, Staffy, and Shawn don't hesitate to sound off about what they see as a tendency for bands to dumb-down their craft in the name of commercial success. "All the bands that you talk to, probably their big dream in life is to get on MTV, and you'd have to shoot me first," Zim asserts, adding "there's a whole outlook, a whole sociology, that goes with that sort of mainstream mentality that's just very uncool. That's just selfish and shallow. That's why I'm not attracted to it. And it'd be pretty easy, I think, to play in like a Tool wannabe band."

Although this attitude may strike some as a bit too punker-than-thou, the Marvels nevertheless make a convincing sonic argument, with their quick, catchy brand of unpretentious, '70s-era punk rock that doesn't suck up to anyone. They ask me specifically not to draw band comparisons, so let's just say that anyone who knows the difference between CBGB's and the Warped Tour will be able to hear that the Marvels do the punk tradition proud.

Bucking local rock convention, the Marvels are emphatic that they would rather play for quality, not quantity -- for small audiences who actually know and care what punk rock is all about, opposed to huge audiences of sheep who think Richard Hell and Johnny Thunders are a World Wrestling Federation tag-team. "The masses are pretty gullible," Zim insists. "The average frat boy just wants to like the same things that everyone else likes. And that's fine, but those aren't the people we want as our fans. We don't want to look out from stage and see a bunch of kids wearing Korn t-shirts."

"Or any Kid Rock fucking impersonators, either!" Staffy adds, as Shawn comically pitches his baseball hat to the side of his head, mocking the current look of some of the area's lower-case G's. "They think they're actually doing something different," Staffy continues. They're so fucking stupid! They think, `Oh well, I'm not listening to Brittany Spears, so I'm truly fucking unusual,' when really it's just another form of Brittany Spears packaged a little bit differently. They're missing the whole point of any of it."

"Those are kids who don't live for their music." Zim says. "People who are into punk rock are into it not only for the music, but it's a whole way of looking at life. We're going to have a lot more success trying to convert a high school kid who listens to Beatles than we are converting a high school kid who listens to Kid Rock, because the kid listening to the Beatles is at least thinking for himself."

Although they refuse, as a matter of principal, to even entertain the idea of playing some of the area's better-known music venues, the Marvels claim it's in fact easier to promote yourself and get live exposure within the punk subculture, provided you don't forget who you are. This means not sharing bills with bands you don't like, not watering-down your sound to suit someone else's taste, and supporting others within the scene by attending other bands' shows and trading gigs. No one in the band seems fixated on releasing a hit local album, playing any high-profile showcases, or while I'm at it, garnering all kinds of accolades from local press. "We don't have anything to prove," Shawn nods. "We just play our fucking shit."

"Granted, we'd like to make a living out of it," Zim finally admits, "but you can make a living out of that one out of a hundred kids who has the same type of outlook on life that guys like us have. The rest of them, I don't care. They can go listen to Kid Rock. They think they're rebels, and that's fine."

" `Bawitdaba' is a bad form of rebellion," Staffy sighs.

As if on cue, the jukebox at Geno's suddenly begins blaring the latest single from Limp Bizkit. The Marvels' heresy must be starting to piss-off the gods of corporate rock.

Pete Hodgin can be reached at ph4872@aol.com.