Even Rude and Munkfest – by mia west
Harboring a devilish hankering for an Evenrude performance in the buff (lead singer, Mike King, has been known to drop them drawers on a whim), my hopes of a man-flesh filled evening were sadly dashed, but I will surely admit the absence of nudity stole little away from the night. It was a glorious show, brimming with blow-up Betty’s and rock n’ roll 101, and like the cherry so sweet resting atop of a sundae, I had some Munkafust for dessert.
Before we go any further, let me school you a bit on the Evenrude fundamentals. Here you have four dashing young men, complete with big top antics and talent to boot. You’re looking at a punk, funk, rock, hip-hop, reggae cocktail that goes down smooth. But be prepared for some unexpected jars. Because when you shake up so many ingredients, you’re bound to get knocked on your ass (in a good way). So now that you’re up to speed, it is my pleasure to introduce you to my evening.
Scheduled relatively early on the set list, the venue failed to yield the fruits of a buzzing audience, but Evenrude did not refuse us their usual enthusiasm and infectious humor. A scantily clad plastic babe (unfortunately not a band mate) is the victim of domestic abuse as they volley the cheeky gal back and forth, and their exuberant energy nearly lands them a four-person pile-up on 14 Below’s matchbox stage. It is their typical show, with a few twists for our viewing pleasure – including a game of round robin on lead mic. One special treat, was Jazz Jovi, a lovely jive improvisation of “Shot Throught the Heart” brought to us by drummer, “Ricky Retardo Montebahn”, but don’t quote me on the name. I’m not banking on it being on his birth certificate.
As Evenrude’s set concludes, I still yearn for a peek at someone’s “stuff”, but am immediately pacified by my next encounter. This is to be my first Munkafust experience, and though it is a sound and feel so adeptly different from that of Evenrude, I’ve been snared. We’re talking hook, line and sinker. I tend to be a snob when it comes to poppier, more mainstream type of vibrations, except I can’t resist the playful, good-time feel of this alternative/funk band. From their juicy bass lines to their comical lyrics and arresting hooks, they have a crisp, earnest appeal that seems to cohabitate somewhere with the Sugar Ray’s and Third Eye Blind’s of the Top 40 world, but manned by greater musicians. Lead singer, Evan Brau, has a remarkable voice that dances on each tune, never missing it’s mark, and the audience, now dense with bobbing and swaying heads, is captivated. Wasting little time with theatrics, Munkafust moves through songs both new and old, and the night ends in colorful revelry. And I return home, a surprised, but affirmed fan of the crafty, irresistible Munkafust.
