Given To Wail 2.0 - The Mike McCready Page

Bumrush: Shorter Than That 45 Second Punk Song
or How To Give Lukin A Run For Its Money
by Rick Posey

SEATTLE, WA - There are three known shows, 4 known bands, openers and headliners, 9 songs and 2 guitars. Well, make that one guitar… unfortunately, the Les Paul didn't survive. All this and you could probably fit their entire catalogue on a 90 minute Maxell XLII tape and still have plenty of room to spare. This, ladies and gentlemen, was Bumrush.

Seattle, wealthy in its incestous history of guitar-slinging, rock n' roll was home to this heavily punk influenced quintet. Now, for the average Pearl Jam folk, punk's lasting impression on the band's music is no mystery. You don't have to search hard to find the power-chord progressions and simple, yet heart thumping beats in their music to know what we're dealing with here. Spin the Black Circle, Lukin (working title "100 Pacer"... who remembers that?), the KKK Took My Baby Away (one of the many Ramones covers), Comatose. Sure, the scene's influence is more obvious in Vedder than other bandmates but it's undeniably there.

When you think of Mike's influences, obviously KISS, Zeppelin and the Stones come to mind first. Then there's the blues: SRV, Muddy Waters, Mississippi John Hurt and Howlin' Wolf. But what about the aforementioned Ramones? What about the Sex Pistols and the Buzzcocks? Musically, Mike let his blues out with the likes of Buddy Miles and Billy Cox. He let his rock roll with Flight To Mars (and, duh, Pearl Jam) and dug up the classics with Heart and Shadow (sidenote: Nugent and Kiss qualifying as classics can be debatable another time). And with Bumrush, we had our punk outlet.

At the now closed Lake Union Pub in October of 1995, at least as far as we know, the world had its first taste of Bumrush. It's been called a shithole and a dive bar with barely enough elbow room but to many, it was Seattle's punk bar. All you have to do is think of a crowded, sometimes dark and loud punk bar and you might find yourself there. The opening act, Zeke, is no mystery to us either: they recorded two Ramones songs with Vedder for the Ramones tribute ("We're A Happy Family") put together by Rob Zombie, "I Believe In Miracles" and "Daytime Dilemna (Dangers of Love)." Although the setlist at this point in the game is almost entirely unknown (it might be a safe assumption that the "setlist" the band mapped its way through this evening might be very similar to the one known setlist from the Croc), you can say with certainty that the word LOUD sums this one up. A Sex Pistols song here, a bassline from The Who there ("Happy Jack" for those curious) and a dash of Blitzkrieg Bop" and you've got your Bumrush show.

At one point during the show, it became obvious that some in the crowd were quite annoyed with the moshers in attendence. I swear if you look hard enough, you'll find that a pit can open anywhere, like an elevator which probably isn't far from the total square footage this place claimed. "Stop, let's be like the Grateful Dead and all love each other," was Mike's plea and almost on cue he found himself with beer cups raining down on him. Why take it seriously? Everyone was having a great time at a place where the greatness is questionable.

Flash foward almost 3 months and we're at the Crocodile Cafe on a Friday night in Seattle. Mike's no stranger to this place outside of Pearl Jam: Mad Season played three shows here two years earlier in 1994. With openers Hog and headliners Neurotic Boy Outsiders, Bumrush found themselves in the middle of the order this time. It seems as though they came more prepared as well as one audience member managed to snag a setlist with actual titles (thanks Caryn). Mike even had his green picks on hand. With a new bass player from Green Apple Quick Step, Bumrush ripped through their set and let a little of the rockstar out. They threw out tshirts, Mike lost some clothing and sadly (guitarists, avert your eyes), a beauty of a Les Paul went to heaven.

"Have you ever had the feeling that you've been cheated?"

The setlist at this second known show was littered with Sex Pistols quotes, random riffs (Duran Duran's Rio anyone?) and pieces of what was once a black Les Paul. Just thinking about loud, short bursts of punk and power chords lined straight in to your Fender amp sitting on the floor with maybe a couple pedals driving your distortion over its own speed limit might be enough for any guitarist to want to pick up their axe and annoy the neighbors. If you're 16. Kidding. But we haven't even covered the highlight of Mike's stint with Bumrush folks so just sit back and keep thinking about how you missed all this.

The next evening, the 13th of January takes us to Moe's. Moe's found itself host to a private "Neil Jam" show just 7 months earlier but tonight, 7 Year Bitch played host for a benefit with a 4-band bill of noise, featuring our very own Bumrush. While the setlist was nearly identical to the previous night's, the antics however, were of a different kind. While bandmate Lance Mercer was pinned as the most normal looking Bumrusher (get it???...), the rest of the gang was playing dress up: James in a skirt, Dick in leather and the nameless bassist in a gangster suit. And. Kids, this doesn't really seem like a surprise if you know Mike or have seen those really old Flano's tapes from Lollapalooza in 92, Mike in a dress. Thankfully, this stayed on.

A different night found a different guitar (an orange Strat this time that survived) with Led Zeppelin riffs emanating from its neck and pickups. Almost typical. As the show went on with the crowd interaction and the dress straps clinging for life, it was clear this was all fun for everyone involved. And that's Bumrush. Fun. Loud. Punk. And, unfortunately, short.

According to lore, there's a video of this last show but whether or not it has found itself into the hands of traders is a mystery. A tape exists of the Lake Union Pub show although one contributor gives it a different date (11/1/95 if you need to know) so perhaps this is a fourth show. There's a Mike pick, a couple photographs and somewhere out there maybe even a tshirt. But for the rest of us, there's history.

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I couldn't have written this without Caryn Rose's notes that the internet has long forgotten. The pictures are her's too. Thanks Caryn.

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