Live at The Bug Jar: The Thieves and Electric Eel Shock
Rochester, New York – March 2, 2005

March 15, 2005
by Craig Curtice

Photo by James Bogue

If the music industry still has any room left for a “next big thing,” it might recognize The Thieves, a tight pub trio from Oxford, England. Consisting of guitarist Hal Stokes, his bass-playing brother Sam Stokes, and their confidant drummer Jamie Dawson, The Thieves have already played over five hundred shows in just four years, and are touring the US through March to support a fine new EP, The White Line.

The weather can often pose problems for bands touring throughout the Northeast during winter months. The Thieves and Japan’s Electric Eel Shock found that out when their bus broke down in snowy Ohio (‘Ello Cleveland!). In order to make their scheduled gig in Rochester, New York, they rented a van and proceeded to drive through hours of blinding snow flurries on Interstate 90. On this cruel Wednesday night, sub-zero temperatures gripped Rochester, a city already choking on piles of dingy snow that cordon off buildings from streets.

Despite the temperature, my friend James and I were excited to see The Thieves, but the added bonus would be watching Electric Eel Shock perform. We arrive at the tiny, but ultra cool Bug Jar about 9:30 PM. I had a feeling there’d be a problem at the door with our guest list stature and sure enough, when I tell the bouncer who we are, he replies, “Sorry man, there is no guest list.” Hmm, did I mention we’re from 2 Walls Webzine? “If you guys want to talk to the band, they’re eating across the street at Doc Hoa’s.”

Besides saving six dollars apiece, I figure it might be better to speak with the Thieves in a much quieter setting anyway. So we traverse the icy sidewalks and enter Doc Hoa, the long-standing Vietnamese restaurant. It’s almost empty except for a large group at the back. Hoping not to be intrusive, we slowly walk toward the table and wave. All eyes look our way.

Hal Stokes immediately apologizes in a British accent, “You must be the guys here to see us! Damn, I forgot to give the doorman your names! Did they not let you in over there?” Born in Ireland, but raised in England, Hal’s dirty blonde hair makes him look like a more shrewd, a more worldly, Jeff Spicoli. He has an affable presence and exudes a grateful happenstance.

Photo by James Bogue

Hal insists we sit down and he introduces everyone sitting around the pushed-together tables. “This is my brother Sam, Jamie, our tour manager, and these are the guys from the mighty Electric Eel Shock, Aki, Kazuto, and Gian, and these are some of their friends.” I was astonished that for two hard rock bands the conversation is amazingly polite and relaxed. There is a genuine camaraderie between all of them as they speak about their current tour together, the important SXSW shows in mid-March, and the long ordeal getting here.

I wasn’t sure if I should ask Hal how he broke his foot, which is currently being held together by metal screws and a large cumbersome cast. But hey, broken bones yield good stories. He seems humbly embarrassed by it, “All right, I’ll tell you. A few weeks ago we were in LA at a Ziljdian party and for some reason we walked over to another hotel. I guess we weren’t supposed to be in this particular area and a security guard starts chasing after us. I ran toward this partition and leapt over. Turns out it was a bit longer drop down than I thought.”

“His foot was just hanging there,” says Jamie, “plus there was the fiasco at that teaching hospital afterwards.” Hal adds, “Oh my God, my ankle was the size of a football, and these people are just wrenching it back and forth. Eventually we got it properly treated at another hospital.” He pauses for a moment and asks us, “Hey, do you know what time we are on tonight? “Ten o’clock,” I say. The clock on the wall says it’s ten of ten.

I survey their table and meekly comment, “Uh, you guys have finished eating right?” Jamie quite calmly says, “Actually no, we’ve been waiting nearly an hour and haven’t gotten our food yet.” Realizing they have to get going, they motion to one of the waitresses and ask her for their orders to go.

In a moment of ridiculous culture clash, two women speaking half Vietnamese banter back and forth trying to remember who ordered what. Apparently they never bothered to write this stuff down, so everyone has to recount what they’d ordered with either cockney English accents or Japanese English. On the way out Hal winks at us and whispers, “Happens to us all the time – no big matter.”

The wind-chill is brutal as we push back through the stubborn front door and head across the corner to the Bug Jar. On metal crutches, Hal carefully navigates his lower leg over the gnarled, ice-encrusted sidewalks to the Jar entrance. This time, thanks to The Thieves, we are given immediate entry.

Hey, now don’t think I’m cheap or anything, but saving six bucks is saving six bucks, particularly because I would proceed to blow seventy on drinks. Besides, do you know how long I’ve spent writing this opus you’re reading right now? If just one person checks out either of these excellent bands, then consider my six dollars paid in full.

Once inside, the guys find they still have a few minutes, so Hal shimmies behind the merchandise table, takes a seat, and stashes his crutches. He proudly hands us each a free copy of The White Line, and we graciously accept. He’s calmly energized and comments that he liked 2Walls' review of the album. “That’s the one with the reference to Mick and Keith is it?” I nod yes.

With beers in hand, Jamie and Sam are more talkative now. The Bug Jar has a tiny stage, so I asked Jamie if this was the smallest bar they’d ever played. “Hell no – once in London we played this room that barley fit my drums, while Hal and Sam stood on the floor. No one could fit really.”

We stand and watch curious Electric Eel Shock fans survey the CD’s, stickers, and t-shirts on the merchandise table. Hal boasts, “They sell so much stuff at every stop, it’s rather amazing.” Cute Japanese girls model new shrink-wrapped CD’s with game show-styled hand movements. “Only twelve dollar!” she beams, “It’s good!”

Finally it’s time for The Thieves to warm-up and Hal struggles to get up from behind the table. Though he never complained about it, his lower right leg has become a useless cumbersome appendage, a painful reminder of that bleary night in LA. He shuffles through the crowd to the stage side of the bar and is helped up the steps is by one of the EES road crew.

Hal hops around checking his monitor and adjusting two sitting stools. He wears a white t-shirt, worn-out jeans, and retro Adidas running shoes, and wraps a long, striped knit scarf around his neck. Strapping on a cherry red Gibson, he perches himself on one stool while hurdling his right leg next to him on another. Sam, who has been fairly quiet, works off a late hangover, plucking thick bass runs from his instrument while Jamie anxiously waits to gallop.

Photo by James Bogue

As they start to play, a small stream of people make their way into the music room. They look confident, sound melodic but rugged, head-bobbingly dirty and loosely precise. Hal sings lead vocals and Jamie and Sam harmonize extremely well. I’m thoroughly convinced a band is only as good as it’s drummer and Jamie Dawson is keenly powerful. Unfamiliar with their music until now, each song sounds like classic Billy Squier, Bad Company, AC/DC, and club-era Van Halen, which by the way, perfectly accentuates a stiff drink.

The fourth song begins with sufficient clowning by Hal. “Did you know that ‘chin chin’ means ‘penis’ in Japanese? We’re learning all kind of things from Electric Eel Shock.” Over a locked bass line and drum beat, he starts chanting Oi! Oi! Oi! A growing crowd takes over vocals and The Thieves crank out a tight rhythmic jam that finishes with Hal falling off the stage into the front row. Once again an ever-present member of the EES crew helps him back up.

Hal’s guitar playing is really special and once this guy gets that damn cast off – look out. The Thieves put on a great forty-minute show finishing with a fantastic version of “Tales From The White Line.” The verdict is in: They Rock.

Photo by James Bogue

About twenty minutes later Electric Eel Shock take the stage as Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man” begins thumping through the PA system. The drinking crowd goes nuts when guitarist and singer Aki Morimoto jumps onstage and does a wicked open-mouthed Ozzy impression complete with slow-motion handclapping. Despite the freezing temperature outside, drummer Tomoharu “Gian” Ito tears off his clothes until he wears nothing but a Chili Peppers-inspired tube sock over his chin chin. Slowly the Sabbath fades out and EES complete the rest of the song on their own.

The fifty-minute performance is totally wild and the crowd loves it. Call it a party trick or what, but Ito is thrilling playing with two drumsticks in each hand for most of the show. While Hal sits at the bar being chatted up by a couple of gooey-eyed, fat bottomed girls, I stand with Sam and Jamie taking in this over-the-top spectacle that is Electric Eel Shock. It’s hard to believe that these are the same mild mannered Japanese guys we’d met at the restaurant just a couple hours earlier. Perhaps equally impressive is how close knit they are with The Thieves.

It’s fast approaching 2:00am and James and I have to work in the morning. We say our goodbyes to everyone and call it a night. Even as we left the Bug Jar, Hal, Sam, and Jamie still hadn’t gotten their food.

Going out the door, the cold sobering air slaps me right in the face again, but it doesn’t matter. I have a renewed appreciation for two bands that have traveled great distances and experienced many hardships to offer a capacity crowd the perfect six-dollar show.

(Craig Curtice is a staff writer for 2 Walls Webzine.)