Recorded at Chicago’s Hideout January 30-31, 2014, Live at the Hideout is essential for any fan of Screaming Females, rock, or quality live recordings. Steve Albini did a great job capturing the fury and power of a live Screaming Females show, and the band (“King” Mike Abbate – bass, Jarrett Dougherty – drums, Marissa Paternoster – guitar and vocals) played not only for the lucky Hideout crowd, but also apparently for everyone on the international space station to hear.
“Leave It All Up to Me” gets the album off to a fine start, showcasing Paternoster’s now-trademark shredding. “Foul Mouth” temporarily downshifts the show, with Abbate’s bass groove planting deep roots before he and his band mates take off like a nitro-burning funny car from the starting line. The band takes that nitro and uses it to almost burn the Hideout stage to the ground on “Buried in the Nude” – which is a blistering punk rock screamfest.
“Extinction” keeps the punk pumping, with Paternoster’s vocals evoking Poly Styrene. “A New Kid” has one of her best solos on the record. It moves back and forth between metal, psychedelia, grunge, and even a bit of shoegaze. “Lights Out” is one of the best metal tunes you’ve heard in a long while, and Paternoster’s solo might make you hang up your guitar.
“Sheep,” a gut punch of a song about a cheating lover, hits even harder live. “It All Means Nothing” is one of their biggest hits, and one of their best live tracks. Paternoster sizzles throughout it and Dougherty’s pulsing beat is a great foundation. His wicked beats continue on “Starve the Beat,” which has some of Paternoster’s most masterful guitar work and Dougherty and Abbate’s best clicking rhythms.
“Little Anne” is a strangely hypnotic short song that’s almost an introduction to “Pretty Okay,” which brings out Buzzcocks-like frenetic energy from the whole band. “Baby Jesus” reminds me of a spinning dynamo. It’s fiery energy that seems barely contained and could overwhelm you at any moment. Paternoster’s solo rises into psychedelic realms halfway through it and then tears into something you’d hear in a crazy anime film about starship pilots fighting Cthulu on the edge of a black hole.
The album ends with “Boyfriend,” in which the band not only topples over the edge from metal into punk rock madness, but also pulls the whole Hideout audience and anyone listening to this record with them. Paternoster screams to the rafters, Dougherty thumps on his kit harder than Chuck Norris beating up thugs in Good Guys Wear Black, and Abbate pounds on his bass with a drumstick at one point. I don’t know what will convince you that this band is a force of nature if this song doesn’t.
It’s a great live record, not only for the song selection but also for catching the power of a Screaming Females performance. If you can’t see them live, at least pick up this record. It will only make you want to see them live more or see them live again again, but that’s a good thing.
Keep your mind open.
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