The Breckening Report: Ozzy Rabbit - April 2nd

Hi there. My name is Brian Breckenridge and I am a DFW stand up comedian and am by no means a musician. The following article is the first review, of hopefully many, of my experiences at local music shows that nobody asked to hear about.

Alone, friendless, and pretty bored/drunk, the goal here is to emulate my past dozen years of observing the goings-on at local venues and shows across the DFW area. Not to say that I don't have any friends, I just met them outside the music scene. Also, they're usually pretty broke, don't have a car, or only like 311.

That being said, this is a comedic layman's first hand account of, according to some people, the greatest thing on Earth: local music.

(The following review is a completely biased opinion and, in no way, should be taken seriously by anyone, ever)

Date: Thursday, April 2nd, 2015

Venue: Ozzie Rabbit Lodge

Bands: Bulls, Leroy & The Bad Hands, Huffer, The Cosmic Trigger

I'm pretty familiar with the Ozzie Rabbit. I used to host a comedy open mic outside on their back patio, and despite that goddamn train and the borrowed guitar amp-turned-PA, it was actually well-received and usually a good time. That is until the weather turned cold, so we moved the open mic inside where NOBODY COULD CARE LESS. I soldiered through the silent indifference but eventually moved further west to the Grotto.

It's been awhile since my last visit to the Ozzie. It's located in the middle of the uninhabited Ft.Worth/Arlington neutral zone of Lancaster & 820. Having to walk in through the patio and finagle my way out of the $5 cover, I get inside and OH LOOK WHO'S GOT A SHINY NEW P.A. SYSTEM INSIDE THE BAR NOW!! This doesn't help my internal struggle against music in the battlefield of the local performing arts and bar scenes. Comedy doesn't keep people in places for 3-4 hours like bands do, nor should it. But we're cheaper, easier to manage, and won't eat your electric bill away. Although, we do require your venue to shut the fuck up for at least an hour and half, but it is only to impart the precious gift of laughter. But I digress.

Time to arrive fashionably late because, even with smart phones and wi-fi, nothing can ever start on time and it took me 10 years to learn to stop believing what I read on flyers.

First up on the docket is a band called Bulls, who are already two songs in. According to my Facebook research, they are a professional basketball team out of Chicago. Thinking that obviously wrong, I dived further into the social matrix and find that they are a new band, self described as "post riot girl" (I can dig it). They were definitely post-music, which is a hard pill for a lot of straight-up rockers to handle, but I've seen Daughters twice, so this was easy for me. Another post- aspect of this band is how most of the people there were post-ed out back on the patio. First band in and I'm hearing complaints that they are too loud, not volume-wise but in the salvia-flashback sense. The drummer vocalist was a unique touch although not out of left field for a noise rock trio. I give Bulls props for doing their own thing but have to neg you for never saying "Daaaaa Bulls" once during their set. Your noise rock guys, liven it up a tad.

Up next is Leroy & The Bad Hand. "Now which one is Leroy?" some may ask. I'm not sure. Said Leroy never spoke out and claimed this band as his own until after 20 minutes of really hard rockin'. Turns out it was the singer/one of three guitar players all along. That's right: THREE guitars (bass not included, of course). Personally, I didn't know that was allowed in rock-n-roll unless you've been a band for over 30 years. Iron Maiden and Bad Religion can do whatever they want. They give us music and an urge to read, but Leroy...you've got some balls, my friend. Now these dudes really looked like they were enjoying themselves and that's always a major plus in any genre of live music. Some onlookers had wondered in from the elements to check out Leroy's funky bunch, but after a quick census, the patio still owned a majority of the attendees. They have many names in many languages, but Patio People are the leading cause of OBB (opening band blues). This doesn't seem to bother Leroy and his Sunshine Band, because they jammed from beginning to end, even subbing out a guitarist for a song. Well played gents.

If there's a "buzz band" around, it's definitely Huffer, who played next. Noticing my elbow room quickly vanishing, it's apparent this band knows how to bring their friends out. A three-piece garage rock outfit, similar to a heavier Foo Fighters who never intend to sell out, Huffer also has a very popular t-shirt. And as we all know, sweet merch is half the reason to have a band. The logo is simply a bicycle with their name, but damn do I see this shirt around Ft. Worth a lot. People are now starting to stand near the band and it all starts to resemble the feel of a house show, except for me because I'm still sitting at the bar. I should probably point out by now that ever since I got here, the TV behind the bands is playing a loop of classy, vintage naked women in black & white. Wow, amateur porn has really changed since the 50s, eh? Much like rock-n-roll itself, I suppose. Deep.

Now for the main course - THE Cosmic Trigger. Ft. Worth's stoner metal answer to ATX's The Sword, but minus the low cost health insurance (GET WITH IT, FT. WORTH!!) and massive exposure. This band has lights out shredded every single time I've seen them. Whether first or last, I've seen these dudes give it all in every performance. Awesome riffs, free-wheelin' solos, and a stupidly awesome name is what makes this band one of my favorites. Brothers Tyrel (vocals, guitar) and Dustin (slappa da bass) show that they've been playing together for quite awhile. Spencer (guitar) and Josh (drums) round out this force of nature. At this point, I placed my notebook behind the bar and starting allowing the alcohol to take the driver's seat. The personal setting created an amazing heavy atmosphere and, thanks to one of the guys from Leroy, a light show accompanied the chaos, making the Cowboys From Hell riff homage even better. After many flying beers, a shirtless, grounded Tyrel, and headbanging by only those who dared, my only suggestion to Tyrel & The C-Trig (please help that catch on) is that you save me one of those baseball length tees. Size L.

Random Facts/Questions of the Night:

- Why is a pregnant woman here and who the hell allowed this? I'M SMOKING, YO.

- Where the hell can I get a VHS copy of that classy ass 1950s boobage?

- Guy who angrily exited the men's room: Turn on the lights next time and your drunk ass won't be so upset that you're an idiot who can't leave a public restroom with civility. You make the rest of us look bad.

- The crunching of the bottom of cars entering and leaving the parking lot that never gets old.