Tutu & the Pirates: Booze and Speed

Tutu & the Pirates: Booze and Speed

Good timing, considering the whole Ben Weasel as woman hater thing, huh?

Apart from Screeching Weasel, Chicago really doesn’t boast a wealth of intriguing punk acts. The city didn’t spawn a sub-genre and it’s middle of the road hardcore really wasn’t ever breathtaking. Da!, for whatever reason, makes Windy City citizens cream themselves. It shouldn’t. And while Tutu and the Pirates are a bit better, if not removed from that other group’s aural proclivities, the band isn’t too much more than a crop of Midwesterners appropriating music from other locales. That isn’t good bad or indifferent, just so.

While a far sight more entertaining than Hounds, Tutu (who was the band’s drummer) and company were significantly less adept at their instruments, but may have accidentally set up the template for Weasel and company to follow. There’s a wealth of Ramones cops here, as in a great number of bands from the ’77 era. But it’s in those moments listeners can hear the Pirates functioning as conduit for the Weasels’ latter triumphs.

“Burn Down The Discotheque” isn’t musically forward thinking, or even much more than a surprisingly catchy anthem from a bygone era. But in the band’s dumb thump and ridiculous solos, there’s a pretty sizable antecedent for Weasel songs aping an almost hardcore approach to its punk – listen to the opening guitar part on “My Right” for instance, or even “Dingbat.”

Losers like “Anarchy, Man” probably seemed like a good idea at the time. And whether or not the joke was a good one back in the day, the song’s accompanying hard rock stuff doesn’t work out too well. At least, this one doesn’t fail by dint of its dodging musicality. With all the bummers in the pack – so far, everything referenced was worked up as a demo as the group didn’t issue a proper studio album – it’s a surprise that the band counts so many auld tyme adherents.

Easily the strongest track, and unfortunately recorded live and rather poorly, “Rot Gut Wine” easily surpasses everything else in pace. While aping the Ramones, though, the Pirates wind up sounding like a vintage Boston band somewhere between the Real Kids and DMZ’ punkest moments. There’s nothing extraordinary about the track – or the rest of what’s here – it’s just that this one song is able to distill the entire era sonically and topically. Booze and speed. It sounds like an easy formula. Just not one these guys excelled at.