Monday, July 27, 2015


Thieves Are Watching/Open Box Policy/Say It Ain't So/Pinehurst
Friday, July 17th 2015
The Market on 7th, Ybor, FL

Originally published at Suburban Apologist


The Market On 7th is a place where you can get tasty pizza, alcohol and live music all at the same time. That's not the only way it's muddled. On the Ybor brick walls there's an ad for old furniture, surfboards, butterflies. highly original naked women in the name of art, and Tiki poles. In the back parking lot you'll find chickens in the trees like some ethological CBS programme. Even the TV on this night has lost it's centre: America vs Man United? What? (Turns out it's not "America" but Club América, a hugely successful Mexican soccer team.)

Like the venue, first act Pinehurst are something of a mutt, but I'm not necessarily being critical of them for it. In fact, they were my most anticipated and favourite band of the evening. They quickly reassure anyone worried about the acoustics of a place filled with circles of dough. Flitting between third wave (what some might call whiny) emo/screamo vocals and a melodic hardcore sound overall. There's soft instrumental parts that come and go seamlessly too, and all this takes place within the songs rather than between them. Although Pinehurst may remind you of the likes of Small Brown Bike they pull off the difficult task of original songwriting. Pressured by the need to get one of their members to work early the next morning, they play just 20 practically nonstop minutes. Pining for more is not just a bad pun at this point. 

Named after a Blink lyric, Say It Ain't So also mix a few interesting influences, throwing metallic minded guitar solos in with the pop-punk. But that isn't enough to sedate their time jumping desires. SIAS cover a track from almost every decade of modern music: The Beatles, The Ramones, The Romantics, Green Day and current radio friendlies Walk The Moon. Even old posi hardcore makes an appearance, with the line "it starts tonight" trailing off a song, 7 Seconds style. Early in the set singer Jack Eppink's voice seems to be breaking. I wouldn't make note of this, seeing as it's normally raised in a pejorative manner, implying some sort of BS punk seniority, but it works very well for them. He uses his voice to give a shout out to Let's Get Fired Promotions, incorporating them into one of the bands' tracks, and to increasingly display a circus ringmaster showmanship.  There's lots of without further ado's and an attempt to carve out a ring for himself on the floor while doing a spinning chicken walk. 

On the subject of the promoter, this debut gig of theirs had a couple of bands drop out. Luckily Let's Get Fired kept it cohesive with an open slot policy making room for Open Box Policy, yet another Tampa Bay act. The most striking aspect of watching this 3-piece as opposed to listening to their recordings is just how much vocalist Vinny Suffredini sounds like Billy Joe Armstrong, going so far as to mimic his silly face warp expressions. 'When I Come Around' mega confirms that this isn't a coincidence (dedicated to Say It Ain't So). The Green Day/Blink-182 sandwich filling of the show is completed with a rendition of 'Dammit' sung by a guest singer, with neither the guest or the inclusion of a verse from TLC's 'No Scrubs' being explained whatsoever. Their open box policy might account for that particular innovation, but the band is hardly thinking outside the box, with stage talk rarely rising above the tired level of evil girls and grandmas giving blowjobs. Their new bassist is covered in patches for Nine Inch Nails, Slipknot and Lamb of God though, so maybe as just a fun side project we can allow for some laziness. 

I wonder if Thieves Are Watching are on the NSA's radar? Aside from the fact that damn well everyone is on the NSA's radar, the irony of this privacy-stealing organisation listening to this band might make their fancy vacuum cleaner computers short circuit. Using their Batman-undermining technology they'd have a good view right now, judging by all the people on their phones. If being nice in a world of impersonal economic relations is dangerous to the authorities, Thieves Are Watching fit the bill. This self-deprecating band ("this song needed a pointless breakdown, so we put one in") came all the way from Ft. Lauderdale at rather short notice, and the sadly diminishing crowd does not do them justice. Swinging his carrot inspired microphone scarily close to my head, singer Ryan Camuto, like Shawn Renfroe of Pinehurst, occasionally goes a little high for some tastes, but it's backed up by enough slabs of heavy that it works. Between 5 dudes there is not a single band t-shirt. They show that there's a way to not take yourself too seriously without acting clumsily adolescent. It's pop-punk, it's hardcore, it's intriguing. Give Thieves Are Watching a listen -- even if you can't easily watch them.

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