Critic's Choice

Before '60s garage-rockers got ahold of fuzz pedals, pharmaceuticals and the British Invasion, a different kind of noise was oozing out of American teenage suburbia. A raw, Neanderthal mangling of surf and R&B, it has since earned the dubious designation of "frat rock" -- a style drilled into the cultural...

By Jason Heller

December 2, 2004

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Before '60s garage-rockers got ahold of fuzz pedals, pharmaceuticals and the British Invasion, a different kind of noise was oozing out of American teenage suburbia. A raw, Neanderthal mangling of surf and R&B, it has since earned the dubious designation of "frat rock" -- a style drilled into the cultural consciousness by the Kingsmen's lunkheaded "Louie, Louie." Four decades later, Denver's own Orangu-Tones are still aping those wild, primitive sounds. Boasting former members of punk and country-swing combos like Boss 302 and the Dalhart Imperials, the Tones make music that's all treble, cheap brews and savage beats, a willful throwback to the manic raving of the Wailers, the Ripcords, and Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs. The Orangu-Tones' sophomore disc, Pledge Kappa Epsilon Gamma, was produced by famed roots musician Deke Dickerson; the quintet will celebrate its release on Saturday, December 4, at Bender's Tavern. Besides a hairy dose of monkey-phonic rock, the band promises the added attractions of a twist contest, beer-drinking tricks and -- at no extra charge -- lame jokes. It's sure to be a zooor at least an animal house.

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