The Headliners Thursday & Tuesday, Nov. 15 & 20

[November 14th, 2007]

[GRITTY AMERICANA] The Headliners are schizo. They jump styles every 30 seconds. One minute, drummer-vocalist Holly Hotbox is crooning in a deep, warbling Patti Smith-ish drawl. The next, she’s backing guitarist JT Halm Filst on “Baby Drivin’,” a dark hellride on which JT’s voice resembles that of a ’50s crooner who just finished smoking a carton of reds. All the while, Hamburger Chubs keeps the rhythm rolling with bounding basslines.

“Playing is kinda like church was supposed to be but never felt like to me,” says Hotbox (the band members specifically asked to be referred to by their rock pseudonyms). Ripping into a fifth of cheap whiskey in the band’s practice space, she adds, “It’s real.”

Forged from the ashes of a harsh breakup between Holly and JT, the Headliners began as a duo, a Band-Aid for the pair’s bruised relationship. “That’s what saved our friendship,” says JT. “[Holly] was like, ‘Playing music is the only way we can hang out.’ Now we’ve got totally different reasons to fight.”

Seven years, a bass player and a self-titled album (and another on the way) later, the Headliners are popping up all over town. Wearing its influences proudly, from pre-rock Americana’s folk and country roots to ’60s soul; from jazz and murder ballads to garage rock, the band’s sound is like a snowball effect of the past 90 years of American music—all rolled into one distortion-heavy package.

The members all have all-American rock-star mentalities, too. They drink (and drank me under the table) and smoke like rock-’n’-roll chimneys. Whether they’re in practice or at a show—regardless of whether the show is packed or empty—they behave like rockers. When they fuck up, they don’t care like rock stars. In fact, when the Headliners do fuck up, they use it as a springboard for humor and improv.

A lot of people fake the whole rocker attitude, yet there’s not an ounce of insincerity among the Headliners. “I’m not doing anything but rocking out with my friends,” Holly says as Chubs and JT get into a heated discussion about something jazz-related. “Everything’s from the gut. It just happens.”