Recap Meat Puppets at Schubas

On Saturday, the first of Meat Puppets’ two scheduled nights at Schubas, there was a power outage. Six hours later, Commonwealth Edison still hadn’t shown up to turn the juice back on, and the concert was canceled—a huge pain in the ass to all concerned, not least the band members themselves.

When a band has been around for nearly 30 years, and when they’ve influenced scores of celebrated bands (like Nirvana and Pavement), and when they’ve recorded 12 albums—at least eight of which are certifiably great—one has certain expectations about how the group will tour; they'll sell out unmanageably large venues with horrific acoustics, and every few songs, a roadie will rush onto the stage and furnish the band’s frontman with a fresh, expensive-looking guitar.

But not with the Meat Puppets. Longstanding and legendary as they are, Curt and Cris Kirkwood did not take the stage in some cavernous echo chamber, but in a small, friendly neighborhood bar with a great sound system and a penchant for indie acts. They played on road-worn instruments, through pedals and amps that they had, in part, set up themselves.

In other words, this wasn’t a fluffy reunion act, coasting on the accomplishments of yesteryear. This was something much more fun to watch. Longtime fans were sure to hear what they came to hear, but there was no telling what might happen. At one point, Curt’s pedal board malfunctioned in the middle of a blistering solo, rendering his guitar totally silent until, with a few disgruntled stomps, he brought the box back to life, producing a tone that seemed to surprise even him. At another point, the band invited infamous beardo and local poet Thax Douglas onstage to read a poem entitled “Meat Puppets #6.” Curt began to introduce Douglas as “the always entertaining...” before trailing off and laying into another song.

With the exception of Mirage (1987), every album that the Pups made between 1984 and 1994 got some love on Sunday night. The title track from Up On The Sun (1985) started off straight, but gradually melted into a long, slow-burning jam. “Look At The Rain” from Huevos (1987) and “Touchdown King” from Monsters (1989) provided some unrestrained rock energy. “Sam” from Forbidden Places (1991) became a showpiece for the band’s tight musicianship. “Comin’ Down” from Too High To Die (1994) and a cover of Jimmy Driftwood’s “Tennessee Stud” were outlets for the Kirkwoods’ patented, countrified soulfulness. Meat Puppets II (1984) received special attention, as the Pups played “Plateau,” “Lake of Fire,” and “Oh, Me” (the three songs that a scrappy Seattle ragamuffin named Kurt Cobain famously included in Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged), as well as “Lost” and a particularly laid-back “I’m A Mindless Idiot.”

The Meat Puppets have a real gift for combining their sloppy, thrash-centric roots with the considerable musical dexterity they’ve gained over the years—and this is particularly clear when they play their older songs. Curt no longer wails and yelps like he did back in the days of the group's debut album, nor is Cris’ bass quite as free or unpredictable as it once was—and new drummer Ted Marcus is far more restrained than original drummer Derrick Bostrom. But each member of the current trio works off of the other two to great effect, playing tightly but allowing enough looseness to keep things from becoming at all mechanical. They're smart enough to stay out of their own way—never letting themselves be so self-indulgent or silly as to sacrifice musicianship, but never letting themselves be so musicianly as to sacrifice their sense of fun, either. They’re older and more experienced, but they’re ultimately the same Pups that they always were, and that fact serves them well.

Hopefully, next time around, the arbiters of Chicago’s electricity will serve them well, too.

Here is a video of the Meat Puppets performing “Comin’ Down” at Chicago’s Permanent Records earlier on Sunday: