Walking with Kookoonauts - By Johnny Davenport
Let's pause for a minute and take stock of the world of the Kookoonaut! It was a Belardes-esk morning, caked with Tule fog and the baccate of Borba Dairy hanging in the Bakersfield air. "How many of you that sit and judge me, have smelled the streets Bakersfield?" Got over to Home Depot, over by Sam's Club. Got the white board, clear paint and vinyl letters to make the Kookoonaut sign. Driving back in the hedge rows of dirt back home, parting the road’s treasure-dust, McDonald' bags and chicken feathers as I roamed. Then back to the door of the Kookoonaut brothers in Silver Creek, the small section of Southwest Bakersfield that seems to have been created as an afterthought and then forgotten by the Okie Lords (see Lords Part 1).
Photo by Johnny Davenport
It was koo koo for Condors night at Rabobank Arena and the Kookoonauts were getting set to play at 1st section break inside the massive arena and in front of the arena at 6Pm. N.L. Belardes had set up this type of show. He turned us over to Craig Turney of the Condors, their sound guy as we had arrived to promote the new CD "Growing up Fighting" which comes out soon. I was there for my friends helping gather cords, picks and drumsticks, the sign was an afterthought. The Nauts were just getting up when I got there: eating Cheerios, an old Mickey Mouse cookie and Moon Pies. Then it was get the gear into the front room and inventory: toms, cymbals, base drum, sticks, picks and licks!
Then it was make the set list for the outside show, tune the guitar and bass and make the sign. Then there was a call from "My Dysfunctional Me" and set up the use of the PA system they own. My Dysfunctional Me kindly offered the Nauts the use of their gear and help for free, these guys are the real unsung "spirits of the Golden Empire," not the self-absorbed, self-righteous TV folks that continuously pat themselves on the back for other people’s donations. Off the soapbox and back to the story; we were now all set to go. Next we scrambled into the car and tooled down to The Get-Away Café and pigged out on some hardy fair: chicken and tri-tip and fixins, I never knew what "fixins" were until a few days ago; they are side orders, I regretted having the beans later!
We loaded up the old truck with everything and headed off to Rabobank Arena , formally the majestic and grandiose "Centennial Gardens". We unloaded and started setting up on the cement stage near the fountain on the front court of the Arena. One of the amps fell on Bryan's effects peddle, so about half the songs had to be a wash - all the ska ones that had multiple guitar settings. Kurt had made T shirts, Bryan had made posters and James had made bumper stickers and the bunch together made CDs, but they forgot to set up the merchandise table, later they found it down on Truxton somewhere , so sales were not mega-mart in quantity.
It started getting really dark at about 5:30 PM and My Dysfunctional Me had just finished setting up the PA and amps. There was maybe a couple hundred folks in line and meandering around the Grand Foyer. My Dysfunctional Me had the Nauts do a sound check but the band thought they were supposed to start playing, so the did, it was load, and rumbling like a hurricane, playing originals, including the song of the hockey CD "Bird Of Prey" and punk rock classics like "Blitzgrieg Bop and Last Caress ( the T-Rex and Triceratops of punkdom) and for the oldsters some pumped up Elvis and Johnny Cash tunes - who says there is no "rural punk"? Anyway, we forgot to bring lights, so the whole show was played in pitch darkness, kind of artsy-fartsy though. Like the indoor announcer said on the onset of the Kookoonauts inside arena show "get ready, this is going to be really load!" After the outdoor show, that went from 5:30 to about 7:00 I talked to some folks that had heard the show from "Tailgaters" down the block and it had shaken out their fossilized dentures—even the Poly-Grip was no match for the velocity and veracity Kookoonauts unleashed on downtown Bako-land. There in their darkened corner, the Kookoonauts unleashed their madness on an unsuspecting world. Prehistoric predators of the deep: sea monsters. It was a strange sight to see Bako-sapians , spectacular creatures, emerging from the darkness into the realm of the Kookoonaut and requesting CDs, posters and T-Shirts from an old fat guy clad in a green rubber alien mask. Even old weathered faces crinkled into a smile. I thought that was only a fantasy, like coming face-to-face with long extinct reptiles.
Then through the darkness and the strife emerged the face of N.L Belardes himself, a comforting sight to the Kookoonauts I am sure, like a clean well lighted place to a lost wanderer. The Nauts were surprisingly well received for a punk rock band ("rural punk pioneers") in a republican stronghold.
Next, it was take down the rig and head inside for that show, it was like changing meals on a cattle drive with the old chuck wagon. The Condors and Aces fought it out down on the ice and 7142 fans cheered them on. The Nauts, and friends, My Dysfunctional Me, set up for the inside show high above the action-packed game below. It seemed fairly quick to me and the spotlight shot a large white stream on the trio and a tsunami of sound came pouring out of leather jacket clad cave dwellers high up on the ledge, like Birds of Prey, like Condors often do. There was indeed sound, energy and persona ...it was a magically delicious, whole grain wholesomeness and for sure historic moment in the history of Bakersfield's rich punk rock history, and a milestone for the pioneering of the rural punk world-wide. Has punk rock gone extinct or has it just evolved into something else? Deep in the human psyche a flow of evolution gave rise in the fear of darkness and thunder, what kind of creatures make us afraid of the dark and then strangely attract at the same time, it's Rock and Roll.
Photo by Johnny Davenport
It was koo koo for Condors night at Rabobank Arena and the Kookoonauts were getting set to play at 1st section break inside the massive arena and in front of the arena at 6Pm. N.L. Belardes had set up this type of show. He turned us over to Craig Turney of the Condors, their sound guy as we had arrived to promote the new CD "Growing up Fighting" which comes out soon. I was there for my friends helping gather cords, picks and drumsticks, the sign was an afterthought. The Nauts were just getting up when I got there: eating Cheerios, an old Mickey Mouse cookie and Moon Pies. Then it was get the gear into the front room and inventory: toms, cymbals, base drum, sticks, picks and licks!
Then it was make the set list for the outside show, tune the guitar and bass and make the sign. Then there was a call from "My Dysfunctional Me" and set up the use of the PA system they own. My Dysfunctional Me kindly offered the Nauts the use of their gear and help for free, these guys are the real unsung "spirits of the Golden Empire," not the self-absorbed, self-righteous TV folks that continuously pat themselves on the back for other people’s donations. Off the soapbox and back to the story; we were now all set to go. Next we scrambled into the car and tooled down to The Get-Away Café and pigged out on some hardy fair: chicken and tri-tip and fixins, I never knew what "fixins" were until a few days ago; they are side orders, I regretted having the beans later!
We loaded up the old truck with everything and headed off to Rabobank Arena , formally the majestic and grandiose "Centennial Gardens". We unloaded and started setting up on the cement stage near the fountain on the front court of the Arena. One of the amps fell on Bryan's effects peddle, so about half the songs had to be a wash - all the ska ones that had multiple guitar settings. Kurt had made T shirts, Bryan had made posters and James had made bumper stickers and the bunch together made CDs, but they forgot to set up the merchandise table, later they found it down on Truxton somewhere , so sales were not mega-mart in quantity.
It started getting really dark at about 5:30 PM and My Dysfunctional Me had just finished setting up the PA and amps. There was maybe a couple hundred folks in line and meandering around the Grand Foyer. My Dysfunctional Me had the Nauts do a sound check but the band thought they were supposed to start playing, so the did, it was load, and rumbling like a hurricane, playing originals, including the song of the hockey CD "Bird Of Prey" and punk rock classics like "Blitzgrieg Bop and Last Caress ( the T-Rex and Triceratops of punkdom) and for the oldsters some pumped up Elvis and Johnny Cash tunes - who says there is no "rural punk"? Anyway, we forgot to bring lights, so the whole show was played in pitch darkness, kind of artsy-fartsy though. Like the indoor announcer said on the onset of the Kookoonauts inside arena show "get ready, this is going to be really load!" After the outdoor show, that went from 5:30 to about 7:00 I talked to some folks that had heard the show from "Tailgaters" down the block and it had shaken out their fossilized dentures—even the Poly-Grip was no match for the velocity and veracity Kookoonauts unleashed on downtown Bako-land. There in their darkened corner, the Kookoonauts unleashed their madness on an unsuspecting world. Prehistoric predators of the deep: sea monsters. It was a strange sight to see Bako-sapians , spectacular creatures, emerging from the darkness into the realm of the Kookoonaut and requesting CDs, posters and T-Shirts from an old fat guy clad in a green rubber alien mask. Even old weathered faces crinkled into a smile. I thought that was only a fantasy, like coming face-to-face with long extinct reptiles.
Then through the darkness and the strife emerged the face of N.L Belardes himself, a comforting sight to the Kookoonauts I am sure, like a clean well lighted place to a lost wanderer. The Nauts were surprisingly well received for a punk rock band ("rural punk pioneers") in a republican stronghold.
Next, it was take down the rig and head inside for that show, it was like changing meals on a cattle drive with the old chuck wagon. The Condors and Aces fought it out down on the ice and 7142 fans cheered them on. The Nauts, and friends, My Dysfunctional Me, set up for the inside show high above the action-packed game below. It seemed fairly quick to me and the spotlight shot a large white stream on the trio and a tsunami of sound came pouring out of leather jacket clad cave dwellers high up on the ledge, like Birds of Prey, like Condors often do. There was indeed sound, energy and persona ...it was a magically delicious, whole grain wholesomeness and for sure historic moment in the history of Bakersfield's rich punk rock history, and a milestone for the pioneering of the rural punk world-wide. Has punk rock gone extinct or has it just evolved into something else? Deep in the human psyche a flow of evolution gave rise in the fear of darkness and thunder, what kind of creatures make us afraid of the dark and then strangely attract at the same time, it's Rock and Roll.
This entry was posted by N.L. Belardes, on
Monday, January 16, 2006.
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