22 Jacks, Save Ferris and Lit @ the Hollywood Palladium

22 Jacks, Save Ferris and Lit

AT THE HOLLYWOOD PALLADIUM / FRIDAY APRIL 7, 2000

By Terry James

Friday night I found myself once again enjoying a show in the faded glory of the Hollywood Palladium.

I’d come this night to hear Southern California’s own Save Ferris and Lit, who were bringing a tour to a close here in the Southland. The lines around the block and "SOLD OUT" sign on the marquee made it all too clear that I would be just one of many. I swear they must have packed half of Orange County onto the ballroom floor, and these folks were ready to go!

Concert-goers ran the gamut from junior high school, to frat rats, to mom and pop and the kids. For men, bowling shirts and Dragonflys were the attire of choice, while the ladies sported everything from T-shirts to sweater sets and cocktail dresses. No matter what they wore, though, everyone shared a smile in anticipation of the good time to come.

L.A.’s own 22 Jacks opened the show with an up-tempo punch, delivering their surfer-ska buzz-punk sound with as much conviction as anyone could hope for. Despite a deplorable sound mix, which placed them in a muddy cave for the first three numbers, the Jacks pushed on, urgently spreading their love.

Their high-energy antics helped ignite the crowd, and by the time their set ended (with an unfortunate, and unnecessary, remake of "Message in a Bottle"), the 22 Jacks had turned the crowd into a head-boppin’, hand-clappin’, body-thrashin’ mob. This was a friendly mob however, for as lead singer Joe Sib kept reminding us throughout their set, in a world beset with problems, crises, and negativity "22 Jacks stands for the positive!"

It’s refreshing to see a band play so earnestly and with such joy. These guys are positively worth a listen.

The darlings of alternative radio, Save Ferris, were next on the bill, and it was obvious they were in their element.

After a WWF-style introduction ("In this corner, with a combined weight of 1165 pounds…"), they burst onstage and the crowd went mad. Monique wore her best Cruella Deville leather and feathers, which she shed early on to reveal a sequined T-shirt emblazoned "GLAM LIVES."And Mo certainly played the glamour queen, simultaneously seducing and berating her audience. She vamped her way through all of the band’s big hits; "Millionaire," "Good-bye," and, of course, "Come On, Eileen."

KROQ’s Christy Carter came out to introduce the first Ferris song the station ever played, "The World is New," which originally aired on "Rodney on the ‘ROQ" in ‘96. This was a real crowd-pleaser, as the kids flew into an even greater frenzy, and the surfers soared above the crowd.

By the time they closed the set, both the crowd and Mo were thoroughly soaked from the intense musical workout.

Christy Carter came out again to introduce the evening’s headliners, Lit. With slinky organ music building in the background, they stormed a stage now covered with their trademark hot rod/ lounge life theme. Bathed in moving spotlights of neon green and magenta, and sporting images of playing cards, rolling dice, and airbrushed flames, the whole stage looked like a giant ‘50’s tattoo, topped off with a six-foot martini glass complete with a glowing olive. The vintage setting of the old Palladium itself lent a hand in creating a Rat-Pack atmosphere, adding that extra touch of class.

The boys themselves looked like the Vegas vagabonds we all know them to be--Jeremy in sharkskin silver and A.J. in a leopard-print jacket that Little Richard would kill for. They slammed through "Four" and "Down" with a furious intensity, while the crowd, particularly the ladies, screamed with pleasure. By the time they got to their current radio hit, "Miserable" they had the whole room singing along, and moshing itself into a pulp.

Lit was joined on stage by several guests throughout their set. About midway, a member of the Kottonmouth Kings stepped out. Swathed in bandages and a kaleidoscopic trench coat, he did the freaky robot through the next number, "Zip-Lock" I believe, and supplied his services as a one-man fog machine, releasing huge pungent clouds from that strange cigarette he was smoking.

A few numbers later the horn section from Save Ferris, T-Bone Willy, Eric, and Jose, joined them for the horn licks on "Happy," lending a very appropriate show band quality. A.J. leapt about the stage like a quicksilver lothario, and Jeremy strolled out on to the P.A. cabinets and serenaded the balcony with his blistering guitar.

By the time the boys reached their breakout hit, "My Own Worst Enemy," the crowd was totally in their hip pocket, or hip flask, (which apparently, is usually filled with Jagermeister judging from their indulgence that evening). The whole room sang along, thrusting fists in air and leaping together as one, while the boys cruised the caddy home, top down, and brought the show to a satisfying close. Slick, polished, and gleaming like chrome, they put it into overdrive and left the crowd in a musical cloud of dust