Swinging in from another dimension—OK, Orange County, California—the Aquabats descend on the Huntridge Theatre, unleashing their own unique brand of pop-ska-punk.
The group is somewhat shrouded in mystery, as befits a group of thirtysomething men who dress like superheroes from a 1950s Japanese sci-fi movie. Are there six of them, as is pictured on their website, www.theaquabats.com? Or are there "eight (almost nine)," as it reads in their biography?
Who knows and who cares? What matters more, at least to Christian Jacob, aka MC Bat Commander, is that after two years in absentia, the Aquabats are back to fight evil in all its evil, evil forms. Oh yeah, and to promote their new DVD, Serious Awesomeness!
"The mission is to get out there and put a cap on the past 10 years that we've been a band," says the Commander. "That's kind of what the DVD is. It's just clips and shows from the past 10 years."
The band isn't doing a full-scale tour, and Las Vegas is just one of a handful of cities in the country where they will be appearing.
"We've kind of been lazy, fat superheroes for the last year or so. Two years, actually," muses the Commander over the phone, possibly playing with his pencil mustache drawn on with Magic Marker. "Just playing shows here and there. We did a tour called the Tangy Heat Wave tour where we basically went out to see if anyone would still want to come see us play. Practically all the shows we played were sold out. They were all new kids. Without sounding creepy, it's kind of like we get a little older and the kids stay the same. It's the same as Matthew McConaughey's line [in Dazed and Confused]: 'That's what I like about these high school girls, I keep getting older, they stay the same age.'"
Of course, the Commander makes it clear that it's all meant in fun, much like the band's persona and music. The Aquabats have had their critics; they include a bad review in their press kit that includes such lines as, "Goofy band that makes silly faces and wears foam suits." They've even had audience members try and knock them down a couple notches.
"We come out on stage wearing ridiculous costumes … and kids would go, 'You look stupid,'" says the Commander, and I imagine him using his cape to dab a tear from his eye, even though he is in fact returning a rental car during the course of the interview. "And, it's like, 'Really? So these costumes aren't that cool?' We're just having fun, and it just shows that the kids who come to the shows just want to have fun."
The fun is captured in their music. And it's not just me who has a problem describing it. The Commander struggles over that vexing issue, as well.
"It's probably just more pop-culture blender than it is anything else" he says. "We all grew up listening to punk, and we all like the Specials and ska and the Ventures and surf music, and we live by the beach, so that's kind of a natural extension of where we're from. But, at the same time, just watching TV and Batman and cartoons, just everything boiled down into one.
"We've seen many popular musical variations of rock come and go over the past 10 years that we've been a band, but again, one thing has remained the same. We still keep appealing to people because we're not trying to pigeonhole one time per se, but a place in your youth where it's timeless." The Commander's voice rings through the airwaves and I picture him arms akimbo, chest and chin stuck proudly out. Perhaps a light breeze blows, and if he's wearing his cape, and I know he is, it flaps.
"I mean, without sounding too deep. The Commander can't get too deep. It's against the code," he quickly says, with all the modesty a superhero rock 'n' roller can muster. "I mean, I look at pictures of myself when I was in junior high school dressed like a punker, and I'm like, 'Man, what a poser!' But I can look back at myself dressed as a commander, and if I'm 50 or I'm 13, it's fun."