Doors 7pm / Show 8pm
Tickets $13 advance / $15 day of show
Ages 16 & Over
A Bowery Presents Event
An Open Letter from Ron Gallo to Humanity:
(Shredding. Speaking. Writing. Thinking. Reading.)
I straddle the fence between two mindsets –
1. The world is completely fucked and,
2. The universe is inside you.
I have probably spent too much time being pissed off and upset with humanity; how far we’ve let ourselves go. Just another millennial guy with large hair trying in earnest to take on the weight of the world; taking passionate and hypercritical walks down city blocks, somehow totally aware and above the illusion, overflowing with informed negativity to destroy the illusion and only feeding it.
Besides a couple of years of emotional and mental turmoil, loss, confusion, breakdown and internal growth what did all of that ever
get me? Well, it gave me this record called “HEAVY META” and it is the first few findings from my guerilla treasure hunt for bullshit, both outside and within. Ethos meets pathos.
There is nothing about reading this bio that will achieve its only goal - to further acquaint you with the music. I suggest you put the phone down, come to a show and make up your own mind. You work hard, or don’t work at all; but the search for purpose and meaning is real and the need to relate, release and rage is just as visceral. And though I can’t control what you think, maybe, JUST MAYBE, I can spark some emotion that might unite us in tacit understanding through the language of music – where the words “fuck yeah” say everything.
Just the existence of a biography in someway makes it seem like my life is more interesting than your life - far from the truth. I am more interested in YOU, and how we connect that to the WE; that is the reason why I put this stuff out there. These songs - whether they’re about the time I saw a mother’s cigarette ash falling onto her child’s head in a stroller, or the wars we start within ourselves or, the domestication of punks - they immortalize images and moments in this singular existence that seem to hold a more universal truth than what is taken at face value. And for all this I have nothing but gratitude for the process that lead me to create this album - the 4,929,647 album of all time.
HEAVY META LP
...is 11 tracks of lyrical confrontation and laughter for cynics laid down roughly on a bed of fuzz, chaotic structures and primal sounds evoked from a red Fender jaguar electric guitar - there is bass, there are drums and not much else besides the occasional icing (no artificial colors or dyes). It’s not comfortable and easily pinpointed and I’m sure that will create an issue for the desire for neat little boxes we have grown to love. On my shelf currently there is a Mahalia Jackson record sandwiched between “Funhouse” by The Stooges and Minor Threat. Lately on long drives, we’ve been deep into the Eckhart Tolle audiobook for “A New Earth”, a variety of comedy podcasts (specify), our friends and bands in our new adopted home of Nashville, stand-up specials and revisiting 90’s hits - oh, and listening to our own record a lot to make sure the mixes are right on car speakers. My bedroom window curtains are orange. We tour in a maroon SUV. The band, RG3, consists of Joe Bisirri on bass and Dylan Sevey on drums.
If you’ve made it this far, now might be a good time to go over some pretty boring backstory to create further context for the “assets” of my “brand”:
I was in a band called Toy Soldiers for about 8 years that started as a drum/guitar duo between my longtime friend from middle school and I, fluctuated into a 12- piece freak show and then eventually a solid 5-piece rock and roll group. I consider that brand my musical training wheels. It was the reason one night in 2007 I realized in a low ceiling south Philadelphia basement that maybe one day I could be a singer. We barreled around the country many times, made many mistakes, had good times and eventually played our last show in August of 2014. Shortly thereafter I started a label called American Diamond Recordings and put out a record called “RONNY”, the cover is my face with a slice of pizza on it and it sounds like an island vacation. I didn’t know what I was doing when I made it. I still don’t know what I’m doing and I plan on keeping it that way.
The only thing I do know is that I want to use music to reflect the times and as a primary outlet for me to become a total psychopath on stage, challenge myself and talk about potentially heavy real world things, call you out, then maybe we can even hug after the show. I am forever grateful for this life and anyone that ever comes to a show, buys a record and wants to have a real conversation. I have no idea where things are going, but I know it’s best to grow with them and be okay with whatever happens. As for right now, it seems like a great time to WAKE UP, put all of ourselves into it, acknowledge our own personal limitless value and beauty and if I can be any part in that, well then, awesome. Thank you.
Naked Giants are a threepiece garage rock wildebeest from Seattle, WA. Grant Mullen's bluesy guitar solos, Henry LaVallee's pounding backbeats, and Gianni Aiello's juicy basslines combine to form a psychedelic whirlwind of fuzz. Their friendship ties together their various influences to curate a different take on the traditional garage rock sound. Unlike what you've heard before, their spontaneity and their stylistically diverse catalogue sets Naked Giants apart from the cutandpaste garage outfit. They bring together sounds influenced by the likes of Ty Segall and the Sonics as well as Pink Floyd and even Spinal Tap with an audible energy that gets any crowd doing the twist.
The band jumped into Seattle's music scene by playing shows to hip teens in museums and to sweaty college kids in packed house shows, and have carried the same pure rock'n'roll energy regardless of the audience or venue.
This four-piece punk dynamo from Rhode Island, is everything you want in a punk band: brutal, unrefined, and absolutely thrashing. With songs like, “Daylight Savings,” on which the band asserts, “I wish every day was daylight savings/an extra hour of sunlight/ an extra hour to get high,” they are exactly how you’d expect them to be offstage; upbeat, hilarious, New England punks who’d like nothing more than to goof off and make music with their friends. However that impression partially collapses when they mount the stage, strap into their instruments, and reveal their sludge-coated surf riffs and drums that sound both wildly anarchic and assertively tight.