Bodega, Brooklyn’s punchy post-punk-rap quintet, take to the stage of Glasgow’s Mono for the first of a two night stint in the city.
Doubling up as a record and coffee shop during the day, this wee venue is intimate enough for you to pee in the gender-neutral toilets while eaves-dropping on unassuming rock stars. Shame I couldn’t figure out what the heck they were saying, darn that blasted hand dryer and American twang.
The latest incarnation of Bodega sees founders Ben Hozie on vocals/guitar and Nikki Belfiglio on vocals/percussion, with Tai Lee on drums/percussion, Adam See on bass and new addition, Dan Ryan on guitar. With influences including Wire, The Who, Velvet Underground and The Fall, their sound is a hip-hop-infused mash up of Parquet Courts, The Ramones, B-52s and The Strokes in their uncompromising spoken word, rap and melody.
Renowned for their smart lyrics, Bodega ponder and poke fun at the ridiculous world we inhabit, with special focus on our helpless addiction to technology. New album Broken Equipment is rooted in philosophy, something the whole band are passionate about, especially bassist Adam See, aka Prof, who is also a Professor of Philosophy. Unfortunately he lost his job after playing hooky for our benefit, but on a positive note, Nikki tells us he’s just had an interview to get it back. Good luck Prof!
As the quirky bunch fling themselves into Thrown, first track from Broken Equipment, it feels like a rocket’s gone off. Tai whacks the living daylights out of her drums, her flash of red curls propelled into perpetual motion as the relentless wall of sound vibrates through every crevice of Mono. Even the droopy old spider plants perk up just a little as Ben belts out ‘I was thrown here by chance / I was targeted by big rock ads’ , taking a look at how we’re all the product of what we’ve consumed visually and verbally throughout our lives, with all its contradictions.
Next up is the sparkling Statuette on the Console, Bodega’s latest single, with Nikki taking the lead on this rigorous punk-pop track with echos of The Vaselines and B-52s, topped off nicely with a punch of Toni Basil. She sways her bat-winged arms as she brandishes her drumstick in the air, the crowd swinging to a beat more contagious than covid. I defy you to not tap your feet to this snappy look at the misconceptions of our own identity. The Wedding Present’s Kennedy is now relegated to no.2 on my dance around the kitchen playlist.
The Ramones manifest in a raucous rendition of How Can I Help Ya, before they blast through tracks from 2018’s debut album, Endless Scroll and 2019’s Shiny New Model EP, including the scathing but droll Can’t Knock the Hustle, with its majestic riff and slam-rap dig at capitalism, Nikki incredulous as she cries ‘$9 for a smoothie’ , followed by the biting Warhol. Now this may be a diss track, but just take a look at the towering cool of guitarist Dan Ryan, lurking majestically behind a pair of shades. I mean he could be the late artist’s lovechild. Ben explains that there were no decent guitarists in Brooklyn so they had to look to Baltimore to pick up this work of art, and he truly is a fantastic addition to this eclectic ensemble, playing the part with effortless ease as he strides and thrusts out the classic rock moves.
Ben teases the crowd as he introduces fan favourite, the brazen Jack in Titanic, saying he was going to save it for tomorrow night. Good job he didn’t or he’d probably have been head-butted, but all is well and the jubilant crowd sing along to the popular number which is based around Ben’s realisation that he was in fact emulating the characters he’d grown up watching on screen, such as that young scamp of a hero, Jack Dawson from blockbuster Titanic, who really could do no wrong. With its killer melody and wonderful, wavering riff, Nikki wields her drumstick around like Hermione Granger. Magic!
The primal beats of the Territorial Call of the Female sees Nikki take centre stage, with Ben moving over to drums. Her oscillating vocals compliment her exuberant performance as she batters away at her cymbal and swats her wand about in the air. With her trademark white-rimmed cat-eye glasses, she really can do no wrong and as the night goes on I decide she really could be cool as Kim Deal.
Doers is up next, the first single off Broken Equipment, with an astute and acerbic take on the non-stop lifestyle which is eroding our very being, with a stab at the toxic self-help industry which ironically leaves us requiring even more help. Ben spits his lines out faster than the speed of life, which is ‘making me bitter, harder, fatter, stressed out’, a clever twist on Daft Punk’s ‘Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger’.
The performance reaches fever-pitch with bass-driven Name Escape, a sublimely sardonic rap with hints of Blondie’s Rapture, and even Wham Rap (yep, you read that correctly) as the band lose themselves in the pulsating rhythm. As they jam it out, Dan parades into the crowd to strut his stuff as if it’s a paparazzi-lined red carpet while Ben deliciously sneers ‘Heaven knows I’m miserable now’. But the night just gets better as they fire into the scratch-infused intro of the glorious and timely No Blade of Grass, from Broken Equipment, a crashing mix of rap and melody focussed around the world’s other obsession: the apocalypse. Nikki cries ‘it’s the end of the world’ echoing Jack in Titanic’s hook, as our host harbinger of doom warns ‘One of these days and it won’t be long, gonna wish you had a holy cow’. As the interlude’s impeccable groove builds, Prof nods away quite nonchalantly to his Cure-inspired baseline, perhaps pondering how he can reason his way back to his day job. Meanwhile the bionic Tai is bouncing off the walls while miraculously still clobbering away at her drums with more fury than Animal from the Muppets. This is when it dawns on me that I’m witnessing the most exquisite and explosive live performance I’ve seen in a very, very long time. If that button was clicked right now, well things could’ve been worse…
As the set draws to a close, the lights begin to flicker and fail, not surprising really considering the sonic booms vibrating around the room. My ears had only just stopped buzzing from Bob Mould’s ear-splitting visit to the city’s Oran Mor nine years ago, and here we go again. But there’s no stopping these guys and Ben asks if there are any requests rather than awkwardly shuffling off and on again for an encore. Someone shouts out “Truth Is Not Punishment…for old time’s sake” to which he quips “Old time’s sake?! We aren’t sixty yet!”* before the bass-driven groove of debut single, How Did This Happen fills the room. The elated crowd sing along with the infectious rant about consumerism and nipples in water, which was said to be written the day after Trump was elected. Divine!
Completing the set with NYC (disambiguation) and Shiny New Model, Ben asks the audience if the have anywhere to be, before contemplating another number. Clearly these guys could jam away all night and if we could run our cars off Bodega’s energy, we’d all be swanning about like Tory PPE contractors.
Earlier Ben asked the most esteemed Prof if he could grade the show, which he responded with ‘a solid A’. I’ll drink to that, and match it with a re-sounding 10 out of 10. Phenomenal!
Bodega are touring the UK until the end of the month. Catch them if you can stumble across a ticket, you won’t regret it. In the meantime, clear the floor and get Broken Equipment bought and cranked up.
* Many thanks to the lovely Sherlock Hozie for correcting the request comment!
Words: Shirley Mack @musingsbymarie
Pictures: Calum Mackintosh @ayecandyphotography