Noise Pop: Mission of Burma

We headed out to the Noise Pop Mission of Burma show all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 9:00 p.m., standard concert time, only to turn up at Bimbo's and find out that the concert started at 7:30! Not doors at 7:30, started at 7:30! We're very sorry we missed Seattle's The Ruby Doe and the ex-Versus Asian-American band Whysall Lane (hey, nice logo!) -- but, shamefacedly, we should also admit that we felt a huge surge of relief that we'd probably be getting home before midnight. God, SFist is old.

Speaking of old, Boston-based Mission of Burma recorded a number of hugely-influential punk rock records from 1979 to 1983 (including the two big hits "Academy Fight Song" and "That's When I Reach For My Revolver") and then broke up when guitarist Roger Miller's tinnitus became unbearable. After taking around 18 years off, the band reunited in 2001, much to the joy and delight of the older half of Generation X, and began recording together again. This is the tour in support of their new album, ONoffON.

So, you ask, how was the show? WHAT? WE CAN'T HEAR YOU! HOW WAS THE SHOW? Click through the haze of concert ear and find out.

So it turns out we got there right before the last opening act, the East Bay's edgy Erase Errata. Erase Errata was previously an all-girl quartet, but since their guitarist left, they've reshuffled instruments and added a male singer (who, mysteriously, was not there last night). Who says girls can't do math? Erase Errata syncopated their postgraduate rhythm section all the way to a tenure-track position in number theory, all over shrieks, yelps, and some kickin' high-hat cymbal work. We miss the horns from their previous incarnation but we love love love the bass.

Roger Miller was standing right next to us through their set, clapping enthusiastically. Erase Errata thanked him for getting them some Amstel Lights, as he ambled to the backstage.

Mission of Burma hit the stage at exactly 9:30, looking perfectly adorable with their noise-cancelling ear protection. Rapturous cries from the audience. This audience was awesome. Remember how in college, you lived down the hall from that quiet guy who majored in engineering who, every now and then, would play music that sounded like sheet metal being crushed? And then you found out from your roommate that he'd made a million dollars off the Netscape IPO? Well, if there's any problem with the Google search algorithms, it sure wasn't getting solved last night, because that entire department was shaking their scraggly beards and sweatpant-clad booties at Bimbo's 360. We stared, mesmerized, at a man with a windbreaker tied around his waist, gently rocking from front to back.

How was the band? LOUD. Loud loud loud loud loud. No wonder Roger Miller got tinnitus. They were so loud we could barely understand any of the between-song patter (something about Bush being evil, something about San Francisco being a great town). They said their tape loops were a little off that night but honestly, you couldn't tell a thing from the waves of noise. They sounded great, though, like the 20 years of Reagan and Clinton had never happened.

The engineers loved it too -- we've never seen moshers who have over $100,000 vested in their 401(k)s before. We think we saw some fingers pointed like pistols during "That's When I Reach For My Revolver" too, unfortunately, but we can probably forgive that.

Show let out at 11:30, and we were home by 11:45. Plenty of time for concertgoers to get home and rest up before hitting 101 South to Mountain View for today's beta product launch!