Wheatus @ Continental - 2/16/99
 

As tattooed Lezzies (LES = Lower East Side) worked the bar and stiff bouncers maintained the entrance, the Continental (3rd Ave & St. Marks) slowly began to fill with a lively crowd. A waitress began to make quicker and more frequent rounds and one could easily imagine the stacked up cases of Millennium Edition Budweiser slowly disappearing from the basement.
 

This was an after-work crowd. People fortunate enough to wear the attire of their own design had obviously dressed this morning with the evening in mind. Those who find their attire prescribed for them dressed to give off the impression that such was not the case. Wardrobes aside, what made this group an obvious work-force was the way that famished lips reached out towards the bottlenecks before motor skills worked to raise a held beer to one's mouth. The group was decidedly hungry, but what one must wonder was: were they hungry from a grueling day of work and denial of nourishment, or like a pack of dogs faced with the promise of a meal, was this visible hunger a Pavlovian response to the Wheatus on the horizon. 
 

A quick survey of the crowd revealed many familiar faces. This group most likely averaged having gone to approximately 2.25 Wheatus shows per person. Politely and well-behaved, the group mixed and milled with one another until the house lights dimmed and the coloured lights brightened to herald the coming of Wheatus. 
 

The house music played something of a Who's Greatest Hits and bassist Rich Liegey playfully donned his Entwistle guise and joined in the canned music. After a lengthy discourse with the disembodied voice of the sound man, Wheatus frontsman Brendan Brown began with a customary greeting of all in attendance and began to strum his guitar in likewise introduction. Wheatus appeared quite relaxed. 
 

Their last show took place February 5th at the Luna Lounge on the eve of the Chinese New Year (incidentally and for what it is worth, 2/5 was also the Anniversary of the Constitution - a Mexican anniversary). What must remain prominently fixed in the minds of showgoers of that evening was the head-to-toe Chinese New year outfit worn by B. Brown. Tonight, all that remained was the bottom half of that ensemble. Brendan covered the rest of himself with a simple blue T-shirt and for the entire night his eyes remained hidden beneath a Kangol lid. Mr. Liegey was similarly and casually dressed. One wasn't sure if he truly came to rock the house down - or would rather sit by the pool and enjoy an iced tea. Percussionist, The Artist Known Simply As Phil (AK-SAP), wore nothing all too memorable, other than the intense expressions and reaction upon his face. 
 

From the moment his face became bathed in red and blue lights, the renowned AK-SAP performed an opera of facial expression in addition to his contributions to the quartet of Wheatus. Drummer, Peter Brown sat behind the group in what looked like a soccer camp tee, his sticks at the ready. The band began with a bang. Tightly and accurately, Wheatus began to get the crowd up and moving with their music. B. Brown initially motioned to a gap in front of the stage, demanding it be filled. Lo and behold, almost instantly the crowd expanded to swallow any empty spaces in their way. Wheatus played a set list consisting of pure quality. Punk Ass Bitch opened the evening and displayed the band's ability to work tightly and together, as the focus shifted between the impressive drumwork of P. Brown, the madness of King AK-SAP, and the vocals of both B. Brown and Mr. Liegey. Wheatus worked through their much loved repertoire. Cheers greeted the opening bars of such songs like Wannabe Gangster, LeRoy, I'll Never Write a Song About You, and the ever touching Teenage Dirtbag. 
 

Towards the end of the night, Wheatus smashed through a new tune, Freak, which selflessly demanded that no matter who the audience ever considered freaking with, Wheatus would have to be first. No sloppy seconds for these guys. Incidentally, the crowd contained the parents of brothers Peter and Brendan Brown. The brothers could be seen glancing in the direction of ever-supportive mom and dad when they broke into Hey, Mr. Brown, Don't Have A Cow. 
 

Wheatus tunes have the power to rock through you and are as equally body-moving. Additionally, the lyrical work is nothing to quickly dismiss. Teenage Dirtbag, for example, is a moving anthem of teenage alienation and challenged to self-esteem - with an ending that gives hope to all. The song begins: "Her name is Noel/ A have a dream about her She rings my bell/ I got gym class in half an hour Oh how she rocks/ in Keds and tube socks But she doesn't know who I am/ And she doesn't give a damn about me Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby/ Listen to Iron Maiden baby" The protagonist faces such disappointments as the tougher, Iroc-driving neighbor who seemingly already has a hold on Noel's affections. Despite such destabilizing blows, it's not until prom night, when: "Lo and behold/ she's walking over to me This must be fake/ my lip starts to shake How does she know who I am?/ and why does she give a damn about me? She says... I've got tickets to Iron Maiden, baby/ come with me Friday, don't say maybe I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like...you."
 

* * * Earlier in the evening, as I waited for others to join me outside the Continental, I overheard someone from the bar speaking to a member of the band-to-follow-Wheatus, Girl On Top. What was heard was the bandmember being told to get their equipment ready and that they would follow right after Wheatus, who would be off at 9:30 sharp. At approximately 9:55, Wheatus left the stage to much applause and cries of: "More Wheatus!" Seemingly there was nothing that could contain the music to something so insignificant as a time slot. Throughout the evening it was softly and subtly hinting to this objective reporter - but it was not until a bleary eyed woman came up and hitched two fingers in the waist of my trousers. Her dazed vision made her think that I was a representative of the band and despite my protests she reintroduced herself anyway. It was then, as she stammered out her name: Katherine (or it could be Catherine - she didn't spell it out to me) - that I realized it wasn't the drink that put her this way, but rather the intoxicating power of Wheatus. Here before my very eyes was one who 'freak[ed] with Wheatus first.'
 

Wheatus is currently the #1 ranked group/ Artist of the Week on Billboard Talent Net 
 
 
 

Also visit the band's official website -