The Bottom Lounge kind of feels like a garage. The joint is tucked into a big box of a building in the midst of some industrial businesses, underneath the El tracks southwest of the Loop. After passing through the small, busy bar area, the crowd opens out into a smaller box, one painted entirely black, a sort of musty, dusty feeling hanging about. What better place could there be, then, for the garage rock/funk/soul that pulsated throughout the place for the night?

Openers Gentleman Jesse & His Men got the night going quickly; their slick, garage-friendly version of power-pop often felt akin to an antsy, breakneck version of the Modern Lovers. Being from Atlanta, Jesse Smith (the Gentleman in question) doesn’t sound all that much like the Lover’s head Bostonian, Jonathan Richman, but the 70′s organ, punky shout-along backing vocals, and jukebox-ful of guitar riffs find The Men in that company.

The tunes felt all about the same pace, but some differentiated themselves from the others. “If I Can See You (You’re Too Close To Me)” chopped through the room like The Exploding Hearts, its twin guitar lines ratcheting things faster and faster. A small pocket of onlookers hollered when Smith announced their upcoming 7″ on local Hozac records, leaving the Gentleman to chide the rest of the crowd for not respecting a great little label. Later, “Butterfingers” and “Put Your Hands Together” closed out the set just as it started: high energy, sing-along choruses, and rushing guitar/organ interchanges.

From the royal entrance, it was clear that King Khan and His Sensational Shrines were going to hold up to their reputation of never missing a beat, never letting a moment fall un-fun’ed. The Shrines entered first, clad in black, the pack of German/French soul-rock fanatics building a groove, guitarist Till Timm echoing out Khan’s name. The King entered in his finest paisley jacket and feathered fedora, escorted by two perpetually almost undressed female dancers. “Please, shake your asses,” Khan smirked before the nine-piece jumped into “Outta Harm’s Way”.

A rash of other hits from 2008′s The Supreme Genius of King Khan and his Shrines followed, “Land of the Freak” and “Took My Lady To Dinner” causing the writhing, grinding mass at the front-center of the crowd to get a little sweatier. Organ-master Fredovitch leapt around like a wild man, while percussionist Ron Streeter and drummer John Boy Adonis pummeled out a consistently funky rhythm base. As the opening horn blasts of “Welfare Bread” pumped out over the stage, one excited fan proceeded to light a dollar bill on fire, echoing Khan’s lyrics about love getting you through those cashless times. Between that and the multiple female stage-jumpers, it was clear the security at the side of the stage was content to let people have their fun.

“We’ve got a brand new one for ya, it’s called “Bite My Tongue”,” Khan moaned before the group ripped into what’s sure to be a favorite once it’s recorded. The chorus of “I’ll bite my tongue, I’ll keep my mouth shut for you” charmed as well as anything else throughout the night. It might out me as a former band dork, but I spent a lot of time paying attention to the impressive horn section of Ben Ra, Big Fred Roller, and Simon Wojan. “I Wanna Be A Girl” got possibly the biggest reception of the evening, screams and howls pulsing throughout the room. The psychedelic “Stone Soup”  from 2004′s Mr. Supernatural brought even more funk, even more soul.

After a quick break, the encore was riled and ready. During that pause, Khan had made a costume change, coming back onstage shirtless, with a gold cape and pilot’s cap as accessories. There was something so fun about seeing Khan shove a stage-jumper out of his way while singing “And I don’t regret a thing!” A surprisingly tender, Jay Reatard-dedicated “Live Fast Die Strong” closed the night. But don’t begin to think that it was a solemn end to the night. Khan and the Shrines exited in grand fashion: Tenor sax-man Ben Ra screamed through his horn while being passed around the audience, while guitarist Timm and bari saxophonist Big Fred Roller scraped their instruments against each other, the whole group making a loud, joyful noise as the old adage goes, summing up their entire evening. It was wild, it was chaotic, it was impressive, but most of all, it was fun.

Photography by Martin Hamedani
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Gallery by Martin Hamedani

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