Last Friday night, in a VFW hall in South Philadelphia–a joint frequented by that most defining South Philly phenomenon, Mummers (no to time here to explain, for those uninitiated)–where beers are still a dollar and you can call your liquor for two bucks, Rick Froberg (ex- of Drive Like Jehu and Hot Snakes) presented his new band, Obits. In an opening slot for his old Jehu/Snakes band mates, the Night Marchers, Froberg, along with former members of Edsel, Short Stack and Noblesse Oblige, ripped through a set of what legions of Froberg supplicants have been all a-twitter in anticipation of since Hot Snakes disbanded in 2005.
According to Froberg, Obits formed in the immediate wake of Hot Snakes and have been rehearsing ever since. They played their first show in their hometown of New York in January and have since played one-offs in Baltimore, Washington, D.C., and, of course, Philadelphia.
Froberg says the band will record a full-length in the fall (which would put its projected release at spring 2009); they will try get a get a couple of seven-inches out to hold people over until then. Touring will happen on a rip-and-run basis, with ten-day stints here and there, but they should be able to cover the States in due time and will be touring Europe as well.
Obits certainly present a different side of Froberg’s musical sensibility, but are not the result of his efforts and influence alone. Sohrab Habibion, singer/guitarist from Edsel, adds a proclivity for stoner rock to the Obits’ recipe. Blended with Froberg’s frantic, unaffected, naked vocal approach, it all comes out bearing the stamp of the most compelling and efficacious elements of ’60s and ’70s garage pop and Brit blues. It’s something akin to the Chambers Brothers and the Kinks forming a band that’s trying to sound like Blue Cheer, but with the guy from Pitchfork singing.
There are a couple tracks taken from their few live shows posted on their MySpace page and a YouTube clip from a recent gig. Listening to and watching Obits, one can imagine the perplexed little cocked heads of confounded fans, like dogs just shown a card trick, when they have their first listen at this promising change of direction for the indie icon.
(photo credit: Davey Wilson)