Pop Evil, Royal Tusk and Quiet Crimes Shock the Monkey

Photos by Laura Collins

It was nearing the witching hour and this reviewer needed an extra jolt or six of caffeine to push through to the other side of the hard rock cacophony that was currently bringing the thunder down upon The Brass Monkey stage. Did I spy me a 24-hour Timmy’s next door? That I did.

So, how much thunder was brought down upon Nepean’s best venue for a little live music and pool shooting combo? Let me put it this way, as I sat down with my evening java I noticed the ripples in the double double. Was a T-Rex about to burst through the coffee shop, tearing the place to shreds in a spray of dark roast, milk and splattered Boston Creams?

Everything was rumbling as though this place was situated directly under a rocket launch! I glanced up at the staff who puttered about as though this was business as usual. I guess it was because, when you set up shop next to the Monkey, most nights you’re living inside the thunder and tonight that rumble roar was being provided by Michigan’s Pop Evil. Whether you wanted it or not, Tim Horton’s was stirring some alt-metal into allllll their cups!

“Guess there’s a party going on next door, huh?” asked one of the late nighters. I just nodded.

A party was not how I’d describe it. It was more like a joint full of rabid rockers ready to burn it down for Pop Evil’s first Ottawa show ever. If you know anything about your typical Brass Monkey audience it’s that they are loyal not just to the bands but to the venue, something the place repays with a constant barrage of weekly bands. On this night the faithful snaked around the building despite winter firmly taking up residence in the Capital. A chill and few snowflakes weren’t going to stop ‘em. Rock and roll, baby!

“Can we get heavy in this mother fucker?” screamed Pop Evil frontman Leigh Kakaty. The crowd answered with a sound that could only be understood as a “hell fucking yeah!”, devil horns and first thrust skyward as the music smacked them like a full-force Atlantic gale. Boom went the dynamite!

I do love me a rock show where the hair whips around like a cyclone and there’s guitar solos longer than a Stephen King novel. This show had an abundance of both with the second track of the band’s recent self-titled release, “Colors Bleed” setting the pace for an audience that was read to body bounce and head bang.

These show reviews usually don’t careen headlong into what’s at the merch table but, well, what the hell? Pop Evil’s impressive and creative tees were flying off the racks nearly as fast as Hayley Cramer was slamming sticks to drums! It takes a special kinda’ band to rock both the stage and a fine selection of pop-culture wear that references Jaws, Pepsi, Pac-Man and Voltron!

Head snap back to stage where Kakaty was asking: “Who’s ready to get rowdy?”

(Insert slow hand raise)

Mr. Kakaty, sir, this joint was already off the hook with rowdy. It was a canyon full of rowdy! Yet, Pop Evil still managed to crank up the crowd with cuts like “Hero”, “Last Man Standing” and “Hell on Heels”. They even busted out an early Christmas tune with Kakaty leading the crowd a “Silent Night” despite the night being light years away from quiet.

Edmonton’s Royal Tusk was a meaty appetizer ahead of Pop Evil’s main course. They began with a furious flurry of drums and some wild speaker hoping agility from the lead guitarist. This was not top-40, man. You could stuff your commercial radio bubblegum where the sun don’t shine as this group is all about unshackling those unhinged days when rock wasn’t a reverse-engineered factor only interested in rolling out the hits.

Royal Tusk cuts through all that crap like Soundgarden and Mudhoney before them. It’s high-voltage-fill-up-your-ears-to-the-max-with-high-octane-turbo-fuel. The set was peppered with cuts from TUSK II, a worthy follow-up to 2016’s Dealbreaker.

Opening the eve was O-town’s own Quiet Crimes. Again, anything but hushed! If the road towards midnight was paved with smoothed asphalt, this band ripped it up to ensure the rest of the night was gritty and rocky. This was smash-mouth music accentuated by this Bearded Berserker of Bass who’s chords reached in, clutched your innards and shook you into submission!

“We’re sharing a stage with Royal Tusk and Pop Evil? Goddamn,  what a night!” shouted singer Mike Raymond. Not only does he make a mean hot sauce (that’s Noisy Kitchen, my friends) but between wails he made things clear as your sinuses after munching down a bucket full of ghost peppers!

Nobody would disagree. Goddamn, what a night!