I woke up at 7 a.m. to rain and a delightful temperature of 36 degrees. Who in their right mind would trade the warmth of their bed to listen to a bunch of hyper bands blasting horns and jumping around like kangaroos on acid? I found out as soon as I stepped into the Clark County Amphitheater for the Ska Circus Weekend.
Never a huge ska fan, my knowledge of the genre and its culture was limited to what I've heard on mainstream radio, but I got a severe schooling Saturday afternoon. Ska, for those who need a refresher, is a blend of reggae, punk and some rockabilly with plenty of sax, trumpet and trombone. It's a lot of styles mashed together, which means ska fans are going to be a mix as well. The hundreds of guys and dolls, mostly high-schoolers and college students, who had converged at the small venue sported beautiful mohawks, dyed hair, dreadlocks, zoot suits, black-and-white-checkered Vans and black-leather jackets with skulls and crossbones painted on; the unofficial ska mascot—the guy who wears his skinny black tie without a shirt—even made an appearance. Perhaps surprisingly, everyone got along ... in fact, there was so much hugging and kissing going on it felt more like a love-in than a concert. And the dancing, that unique ska dance everyone was doing, where you sort of double over and skip in place, is so energetic, and the music itself is so upbeat and intoxicating, it was impossible not to get caught up in the moment and feel a little giddy.
Which is why it was so ironic that Reel Big Fish (just one of a dozen bands that performed that day, including the Voodoo Glow Skulls, The Toasters and The Skatalites) opened their set playing "Your Guts (I Hate 'Em)." Hearing singer/guitarist Aaron Barrett belt out "I hate the way you talk / I want to punch you in the face" was so much the opposite of the positive vibe that was intoxicating the audience, but RBF was such a self-deprecating band it made for a side-splitting performance.
The Vegas show was the last of the Circus' 51-city tour, and though it was chilly, I think pretty much everyone there would have braved the cold and wind in a trumpet-tooting heartbeat to do it all over again.