Back to Archives

American fateful fantasy

Flaming Fire will bring an apocalyptic vibe to Le Voyeur

Email Article Print Article Share on Facebook Share on Reddit Share on StumbleUpon


We’ve all seen them — standing on some street corner, holding signs and shouting apocalyptic warnings like “the end of the world is near.”



Until a few months ago I passed them off as crazies. It’s hard not to assume a religion-wrapped person donning a handmade sandwich board and proclaiming the end of world is upon us is anything but a few fries short of a Happy Meal. 



But, I’ve seen the light. Sarah Palin has made me realize the crazies may be right.

I know. I know. Sarah Palin has been written about. A lot. And at this point you’re probably tired of hearing about Wasilla’s famous hockey mom.



Still, the woman from Wasilla — or more accurately McCain’s decision to put Palin on the ticket — is enough to make a person wonder if the end of the world  is actually upon us.



Let’s be frank. McCain chose Palin because he thinks  Americans are stupid. There’s no other rationale explanation. He knew he needed to distance himself from Bush, knew he needed to combat the historical power of Obama’s candidacy, and he also knew that Hillary Clinton — a woman, in case you’re playing at home — still had supporters across the country. By choosing Palin, pimping her gosh-gollies, and allowing her name to follow his on the Republican ticket, McCain went “all in” — placing his bet on the stupidity of Americans. McCain’s path to the White House now hinges on whether Americans — who love their reality TV, high fructose corn syrup and haven’t read a book in years — will be dumb enough to fall in love with Palin, a candidate just as stupid as you or me.

 

While that’s depressing, what’s truly worrisome is McCain’s bet may pay off. Americans may be that stupid. We’ll know in a month.



If we are, I have serious trouble believing the end of the world isn’t upon us.



Sticking with the apocalyptic vibe, Brooklyn’s Flaming Fire will play Le Voyeur in Olympia on Saturday, Oct. 11. Born out of bizarreness in 2000, Flaming Fire encompasses as many oddball aesthetics and demented psychedelic twists as a Merry Pranksters’ acid test —with tinges of Goth and God thrown in for good measure. 



The band’s press release sums things up: 



“If indie rock were written by truckers and cocktail waitresses, this is what it would sound like — an American apocalyptic fantasy in all its Bible-crazed, red-state, oxycontin-fueled madness.”



In short, Flaming Fire is an eclectic sonic train wreck not to be missed.



“Whatever kind of art you do — music, film, painting — it should be sacred and fiery, a prayer screamed to the heavens,” says Flaming Fire frontman Patrick Hambrecht. “All good art is a prayer screamed to God on top of a mountain right before you get hit by lightning and die. 



“Good art is church, where some old dude wheeling his oxygen tank gets up and wheezes out ‘The Old Rugged Cross’ between his bronchial gasps, because he felt like he had to sing it for God before he dies,” Hambrecht continues. 



While some bands are “rock bands,” and some bands produce more art than rock, Flaming Fire is the rarest of breeds that’s able to do both with competence. It’s a skill the band will display live at Le Voyeur Saturday, and a skill available for mass consumption on CD — specifically Flaming Fire’s latest record, Kentucky Shroud, released earlier this year. More like a double EP, Kentucky Shroud’s first half is a live recording of the band in NYC, while the second half is, well, not easy to describe …



“The other half of the album is the weirdest thing we’ve ever done —- avant-garde drinking songs written for the fastest, craziest piano player in Brooklyn, John Keen,” says Hambrecht of Kentucky Shroud. “(Keen is) a drunken ragtime freak, playing 32nd notes at a million times an hour. I wrote some songs that only he could play — they’re too fast for any normal human.” 



If you’re drawn to things out of the ordinary, Flaming Fire is a band for you. Apocalyptic fantasies don’t get much more startling, compelling, scary as s*** or ear catching.



Unless, of course, they’re real. 

[Le Voyeur, Saturday, Oct. 11, 10 p.m., no cover, 404 Fourth Ave E., Olympia, 360.943.5710]

comments powered by Disqus