Punk musicians revel in old-school concert

The spirit of first-wave punk rock landed with a bang at Viva Cantina in Burbank on Sunday night, with a four-hour concert headlined by L.A.’s the Gears and a farewell set by the elegantly fun Pearl Harbour. It was hosted by the club’s monthly “Messaround” hootenanny and was joyously loud, bristling and melodic.

First up were the Gears, ripping through “Down in the Basement,” a new song in tribute to the Masque, the Hollywood underground venue that helped give birth to the SoCal punk movement. The Gears formed in 1978 and witnessed those early days up close, as the punk acts X, the Germs, Go-Go’s, Plugz and other local pop music revolutionaries led the way.

“We’re a punk rock band of the old school. We don’t do this for money,” Gears singer Axxel G. Reese said following the band’s fast-paced set. After the Gears split prematurely in 1981, Reese spent a decade in the DI’s, another early punk act, before he reunited with the Gears in the mid-’90s.

At Viva Cantina, Reese was a playfully volatile force, crouching at the front the stage or sharing a microphone with guitarist Kidd Spike. They did four songs from the old days, closing with a fiery “Keep Movin’,” but loaded up the set with newer songs from 2014’s “When Things Get Ugly” album.

The band is also subject of a new documentary, director Chris Ashford’s “Don’t Be Afraid to Pogo,” and its limited release has given new life to the Gears brand name, sending the quartet up the West Coast to play in tandem with a series of screenings, beginning in Hollywood last March.

“We’ve been together 35 years and done two albums — two major works 35 years apart,” said Reese. “We’re rolling the dice, but we don’t care.”

The night’s main event was Pearl Harbour, whose pop and new wave-drenched sound dates back to the earliest days of punk, from her hometown of San Francisco to London, where she also spent some quality time. On Sunday night, she was saying goodbye to all that, performing what she said would be her final show leading her own band.

“I’ve been playing since ‘76,” she said offstage. “I’ll still play every now and then, but I’m not going to have a real band. I’ll just sit in with other bands.”

She wasn’t searching for a high-profile farewell, and chose the Messaround in part because it was a night among friends, hosted by Marquee contributor Jonny Whiteside. “It’s fun to play here,” Harbour said. “It’s casual and easygoing. It’s just like a party.”

Her eight-song performance began with the agitated pop of “You Got My Number,” heavy on the organ and flinty guitar riffs, while Harbour danced across the stage in a shiny two-piece outfit, black hair piled high. For “You Don’t Fool Me,” she pulled out a cowbell to bang a taunting beat while belting out: “Get out of my life! You’re just a waste of my time!”

Harbour was once a part of the Clash entourage. She was the only woman ever to perform with that hugely influential punk act onstage, and was married for a time to Clash bassist Paul Simonon. Her own sound always leaned more toward the New Wave side of the punk era, and on Sunday she was ready for a festive night out, kicking her heals and wearing an “Elvis” belt buckle.

As a farewell, her performance was energetic and fun-filled, leaving the stage with all her abilities intact, which only made the goodbye seem a little bit premature.

Earlier, the young trio Turbulent Hearts ripped through a set that showed a new generation taking up the old ways. Singer-guitarist Suzi Moon was a wild and animated force, slashing at her guitar and roaring into the microphone with a bit of Joan Jett coursing through her veins.

As the set rolled on, Moon joked about the sweat stains accumulating under her arms in the heat, then suddenly removed her shirt to finish the final songs while raging in a pink bra. As a punk rock gesture, it was fittingly provocative and confrontational.

Closing the night were the Crazy Squeeze, fronted by Johnny Witmer. Like the rest of the night, the quartet played a roaring set rooted in a punk sound that is still being heard in newer generations of punk and hardcore bands, just now learning a handful of chords in garages across the Western world. At Viva Cantina, it was a sound that was alive and well.