Sons of Hercules at The Continental Club

Dave, Kim, Jeannie, Renet, Monte

My friend Renet took me to The Continental Club in Austin, Texas, to see Sons of Hercules and a few other bands. We arrived in time to hear Big Balls, an AC/DC tribute band. Lee Scott screeched out the AC/DC sound. Was it my imagination, or did his voice begin to give out after the first half of their set? The audience revelled in sing-alongs of Dirty Deeds and other classics. Some of the fare must have either been album cuts or original material. Notably absent were the songs "Hell's Bells" and "Back in Black".

Chris Gates & Gatesville remained solidly in "country rock" or "southern-fried rock" territory. The exceptions to this were lead guitarist Tony Redman's excursions into hard rock riffs and solos reminiscent of Joe Satriani.

Nick Curran & The Hustlers

Nick Curran did not look like blues would come out of him. He resembled more of an early eighties high school senior. He scraped out some R&B standards. Most impressive was a guitar solo late in his set. I looked left and right to find the rhythm guitarist, then realized that Nick was using multiple finger picks to play both lead and rhythm himself.

Frank Pugliese

About one in the morning came the moment we'd all been waiting for. Sons of Hercules took the stage and stormed through a nonstop power set. Front man Frank Pugliese croaked and strutted his way through brutal skull-thudding songs with plenty of hooks. His grimaces, leers and strutting antics provided a clear focal point, despite the lack of a mid-stage spotlight.

Lead Guitarist Dale Hollon

The band has defined punk and garage rock for San Antonio. Each member of Sons looks like a wizened, hard-livin' rocker, except the drummer, who looks like he could be a Sunnyvale classmate to Buffy. Nevertheless, he took off his cardigan after the first two numbers, then pounded the skins enthusiastically and with lightning speed, and sweat profusely through the remainder. I personally would love to see a duet by Frank and Iggy Pop. 'Twould be the stuff of nightmares.

Frank Howls