By Adam Lovinus
By Lilledeshan Bose
By Gabriel San Roman
By Rachel Mattice
By Stephanie Zacharek
By Daniel Kohn
By Nate Jackson
By Mike Seeley
Fuck pop punk, fuck gay punk, fuck surf punk. Punk rock is enough of a battered and abandoned kitten to have to suffer through denigrating and divisive genre lines. The character of punk rock provides and demands a more radical understanding of definition. Call it punk-think: Whether or not the Queers (or the Vandals, or Bad Brains) constitute one or the other tiny, fading-from-memory classification of music is no longer the point.
At any rate, the Queers' mťtier—one they do with aplomb—is to provide solid, beer-hall entertainment, punk rock as exclamation, not explanation. Their adorable, melody-driven song index (which is mitigated on occasion with more attitudinal offerings) spans something like 18,000 records, and for a band from exactly nowhere (fine: New Hampshire), they've cranked out just as much goofball material in their golden years as they did early on. All of it is thematically held together with total contempt for the silly posturing of their trying-too-hard punk peers, a heady fuel that's been worked since 1982.
Part of the Lookout! Records fall-out contingent (the Berkeley label is most famous for losing the majority of their roster after sugar papas Green Day left), the Queers have rereleased some back-catalog selections on Asian Man, who also handled the release of Munki Brain, their newest record.
The Queers perform with the Methadones, the Manges and the Diffs at Alex's Bar, 2913 E. Anaheim St., Long Beach, (562) 434-8292; www.alexsbar.com. Sat., 9 p.m. $12. 21+.