Jim Jones Burnt My House Down

In April, I featured The Jim Jones Revue in one of my What Are You Listening To? Wednesday posts.

A friend in England (where the JJR is from) turned me on to them and they rocked my socks off from the get-go.

I watched their video "Princess and The Frog" on Youtube, and all the hairs on my arms stood up. I was hooked.

I said that if this band ever played anywhere near me, I'd be going. No question.

The Jim Jones Revue is made up of:

Jim Jones (singer/guitarist/panty melter)


Rupert Orton (lead guitarist and lead pelvis thruster)



Gavin Jay (bassist and the band's bloggist...I love his tats)



Henri Herbert (this guy can blister a fucking keyboard)



Nick Jones (beats the shit out of his drums every night...and they keep coming back for more)





When I found out they'd be taking their first trip to the States this summer, I checked the tour schedule.

The closest they'd be playing to North Carolina was at The Black Cat in Washington D.C., on September 17th.

Many famous acts have played The Black Cat, including The White Stripes, The Hives, The Killers, Radiohead, Jeff Buckley, and many, many more.




D.C. is about 6 hours away from Swansboro, North Carolina, where I live.

Was it worth it to spend the time and money to go see The Jim Jones Revue?

Three words.

Hell. Fucking. Yes. Bitches.

(Ok, I added in a fourth word. Sue me. It was warranted.)

When I saw this performance of 'High Horse' on Letterman, I was so glad I decided to get tickets for the D.C. show.




When we got to The Black Cat on Saturday night, we chilled a little bit at the bar. It's a very wide open floor area upstairs in front of the main stage. Two bars run along each side of the concert area.




I was really happy it was at an intimate venue.

When a band kicks that much ass, and you know they're gonna get really big, it's always cool to be able to say, "Yeah, right now they're playing stadiums. I saw them when they were playing clubs. Too bad you weren't there."

The Jim Jones Revue was the headliner for the night, and there were two opening bands.

The first band was The Beach Bloods. Can't find a picture of them anywhere, but a couple of the dudes had some seriously awesome hair. I wanted to motorboat it.

The Beach Bloods playing at an earlier date at Asefu's in DC:



Had a hard beach sound, just like the name suggests. They only played a few songs, but I enjoyed them.

The second band was Kid Congo & The Pink Monkey Birds. They also had a crazy surf punk sort of sound. They could really jam.



Brian Tristan, aka Kid Congo Powers, was formerly a member of The Gun Club, The Cramps, and played with Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.

KC & TPMB kind of reminded me of the B-52's, but a little harder. Bit weird for my tastes, but Chuck loved 'em! He always liked punk, even if he never lived the lifestyle.

Kid Congo & The Pink Monkey Birds in Barcelona:

While we were sitting at the bar during the first two bands, Chuck tapped my shoulder and pointed, "Look! It's Jim Jones at the end of the bar!"

Wow, Chuck's phone camera is really shitty...




He was hanging out watching the end of Kid Congo's set, waiting for their own. Then the rest of the band strolled by. Chuck had to point at them too of course.

I was really excited, but was trying to pretend to be cool. Unlike Chuckles. Who doesn't care if he looks cool. That's what I love about him.

When Kid Congo finished their set, I sprang up from my barstool.

"All right Chuck, I'm going up there."

"But they probably won't start for a little while, Kyna."

"I know. I'm gonna go stake my claim on a spot in front of the stage."

"Do you want me to save your seat?"

"I'm not gonna need it anymore tonight, Chuck."

I went right up in front of the stage, and there was a couple already standing up there. I took a pic of the stage setup, and the dude said, "I already made that one my phone wallpaper."




I mentioned how excited I was to see the JJR, that we drove six hours to come see it.

He said, "Are you the one from North Carolina? I saw your post on Facebook!"

So cool, I love the internet. It makes the world much smaller.

Anyway, they'd driven six hours from Cleveland to see the show. So nice to see there were other huge fans there.

Chuckles came up to join me by the stage, I think he was afraid I was gonna get trampled or something. I'm not usually the kind to get up front like that. I'm usually the lame-ass person sitting off to the side and enjoying a band from my seat (but not like the dude that was reading at the bar during the JJR set, who got called out on it by the band...Who fucking does that? Especially at a rock & roll show??)

You can't do that with The Jim Jones Revue! The idea is ridiculous!

I was literally bouncing by the time they came on stage. Like a pogo stick. Like Tigger on crack.

The moment they started the first song, The Jim Jones Revue blew the motherfucking roof off the place. And the doors.




I think there may even have been a cow or two flying past the building, caught up in the musical tornado...

I was really, really glad I picked the spot that I did. I was close enough to the boys to catch some of their sweat spray.

So close that this is the way Chuck explained it to his brother:

"Dude, I was close enough to lean over and kiss the guitarist's balls if I wanted to."

Way to stay classy, Chuckles. (Don't panic Rupert, he didn't mean it literally...)

The Jim Jones Revue is all about thrusting hips and ear-shredding guitar licks and pounding bar room piano and throwing it all in your face. Old-time rock n' roll with beef.

If I had to go deaf, this was the way to do it.

I call it 'Cock-Rock Boogie-Woogie'.

Their guitars were ridiculously awesome. Orton was playing a well-loved (you could tell it was by the wear) Gretsch. Jim's red Gibson was so delicious looking that I could have licked it. I don't know enough about keyboards and basses and drums to tell if they were just as awesome, but it didn't matter... it was the people playing them that mattered.

They played a splintering set, including but not limited to:


Dishonest John


High Horse


Rock n Roll Psychosis


Shoot First



...and ending with my favourite.




Not only did The Jim Jones Revue burn my house down, but I think the flames got my panties too. Jim Jones owes me new ones.

The energy they put into the show was unbelievable. And they do it...Every. Fucking. Night.

I was so jazzed. After the show, we waited around a bit to see if we could talk to any of the band members.

Rupert made his way out to talk to the fans, and we chatted with him for a few minutes.

We were telling him how awesome we thought JJR was (I'm sure they hear that a lot, but hopefully they don't get tired of it...I know I never get tired of hearing how awesome I am), and that we drove six hours to see them.

He said, "Oh, are you the ones from Cleveland?"

He was really nice and chatty (which is why he's the one they send out I guess), and thanked us for our support.

He was saying that the reason they only played a few shows up North is because they aren't signed with any major labels or anything, and they pay for the tour themselves. I admire the hell out of that.

Their success in Europe speaks for itself. And hopefully that success will follow them into the States.

Anyway, Rupert signed my album (I handed him a pen when he agreed, and he said, "Nah, nah, I've got a silver one...") and gave me a hug and kiss.

I was so stoked.




I wore this face all the way back to the hotel. I couldn't sleep.

No, I'm not naked, but JJR's music made me wanna get that way...



Watch these clips. If you love The Jim Jones Revue like I do, tell your friends. All of them.


Tell your friends to tell their friends.


I can't seem to find any video of the Washington, D.C. show on the internet, but if I end up finding some, I'll edit them in.

However, I particularly enjoyed these clips from other shows:

Burning Your House Down:



Show from Nottingham:




Show from New York:




Show from Stockholm:



Hey Hey Hey Hey


My advice?


RUN, don't walk, to see The Jim Jones Revue if they're in your neighbourhood. Or even if they're six hours away.


Show of a lifetime.