Five gong hits by drummer Sachiko Fujiyama signified that the 5.6.7.8's had arrived at the Black Cat Tuesday night. After toiling in relative obscurity for more than 15 years, through breakups and roster changes, the all-girl Japanese trio has seen a sudden rise in popularity during the past year since their appearance in Quentin Tarantino's blood-drenched epic, "Kill Bill Vol. 1."
The group was originally formed during a short-lived surf-guitar and early '60s resurgence in the late '80s and they were finishing up their short swing across the United States in a big way by playing the Black Cat to a packed house. By the time leader singer and guitarist Yoshiko "Ronnie" Fujiyama (no relation to the drummer) throated in coy, broken English, "We are 5.6.7.8's from Tokyo," the Cat purred approvingly.
Of course, the promoters seemed intent on making the crowd sing for its supper with two bizarrely mismatched opening acts that made Cat-goers hungry for something better. First up was the Fever, personal friends of the 5.6.7.8's who have been accompanying them across the States. Yes folks, another "The" band in an era when the prefix is starting to loose its charm again. The band itself was mediocre but competent, doing their best Ramones impression without a throaty bass line or much of a direction. C'mon guys, Johnny isn't even cold yet.
Next came Dead Moon, an aging punk band of what looked like Neil Young's demented siblings that no one talks to at Thanksgiving. Nevertheless, they've managed to maintain a small, cultish fan base. If nothing else, their handful of fans added a unique dichotomy to the place. Seeing a large Grizzly Adams knock-off adorned in a Smith college t-shirt, with fistfuls of beer in both hands, standing next to a petite young woman in a pink kimono was one of the more bizarre contrasts of the night.
Dead Moon was refreshingly dynamic at first, serving as rich chewing tobacco to the Fever's Bazooka Joe. The aging trio consisted of husband and wife Fred and Toody Cole, with Andrew Loomis on drums. According to allmusic.com, ol' Fred spent the Vietnam War up in Canada hunting grizzly bears. Most people would have probably wanted to hear stories about that instead of the last 30 minutes of their agonizingly long 45-minute set. Sorry guys, wrong card to go overtime. Pick up a bar of soap on the way out.
After a disappointing couple of warmups it was up to The 5.6.7.8's to deliver big. They didn't disappoint. Granted, most people were there for novelty reasons - to see the "Kill Bill" band of cocktail-dress-wearing girls who sung '60s twist numbers do "Woo Hoo" and "I'm Blue." Maybe it was that reason that the viewers were as stiff as boards when the 5.6.7.8's launched into a roaring hour-long set of their favorites as well as covers of popular domestic tunes like "Hanky Panky" and "Green Onion."
Don't get the wrong impression: The crowd loved the set, but it had to try awfully hard not to betray its cooler-than-thou hipster sensibilities. It should have followed the lead of the girl in the pink kimono, who was doing the twist so fast you could feel the sound barrier buckle.
The 5.6.7.8's themselves were phenomenal. Fast, smooth and sexy as hell, lead guitarist Fujiyama launched into Link Wray-inspired guitar solos while maintaining a girlish charm on numbers like "I Walk Like Jayne Mansfield" and the Ventures' cover "Three Cool Chicks." Her polite deference to the crowd between swigs of Heineken and the "manipulation" of her instrument probably had half the guys in the joint practicing marriage proposals in their heads.
Bassist Yoshiko Yamaguchi, the newest 5.6.7.8's member, had a more elegant demeanor than her guitarist counterpart, hiding shy smiles between brief solo cues and vocal accompaniment. Her beehive haircut shined just as brightly under the evening lights as the two veterans as she lied back calmly while Fujiyama launched into toe-tapping numbers. Clad in a leather vest that contrasted with Fujiyama's white flapper halter top, Yamaguchi didn't stick out as strongly but made her presence known at the right times. By the time the band had the crowd doing the "Barracuda," her dancing cues with Fujiyama were flawless.
Drummer Fujiyama was celebrating the eve of her birthday (and eventually the actual birthday by the time the set was over at 12:15 a.m.). Giddy on the ride cymbal and back-up vocals, she looked like the den mother of the group, presiding over two rambunctious youths and egging them on to do more. Fujiyama provided the slender anchor needed to reign in the surf guitar work that night. She never upstaged the other two or sought the spotlight, but her band-mates were anxious to give it to her during their brief comments between songs.
Before launching into two encores, Fujiyama launched into what was probably the most defining moment of the night for the 5.6.7.8's. She did her best Jimi Hendrix impression during the song "Shake," when she writhed on the floor and did an ear-splitting solo after finishing the last of her beer. The guitar broke, and she replaced it with one from the Fever. By the time they recovered and the crowd caught its breath, they ended with two more songs, finishing up with "Bomb the Twist."
At the end of the night, socks were collectively rocked. The 5.6.7.8's had made the club jump and cry their name out loud into the night sky.
