Homer Alaska - Arts

On Thursday, Aug. 5, Homer will have the opportunity to catch The Grannies live when they descend upon the Down East Saloon with their fast, aggressive guitar riffs, snotty yet imploringly catchy lyrics and gimmicky get-ups.

Six albums later, all of which were released on their own record labels Dead Teenager and Wondertaker, all of which were produced by Jack Endino, the man who introduced Nirvana's first album to the world, The Grannies are still at it.

Working within the constraints of a 40-year-old genre doesn't intimidate them. They are instead melding the various definitions of punk rock into something wholly their own.

It's not the three-chord faster and faster guitar battles of The Ramones' and Clash's era, it's not the hard core Henry Rollins-esque macho punk of the 1980s, it's not the grunge noise of the 1990s, but a blend of their own creation.

"It's our aim to slay apathy," The Grannies' lead guitarist Sluggo said. "It's fast, aggressive punk rock, but because we wear dresses and look like retards it takes away from that macho-ness that goes hand in hand with modern day punk rock."

There's certainly nothing macho or sexy about adult men dressed as elderly women who have taken their band name from the imagery of the wolf in grandma's clothing of The Brothers Grimm version of "Little Red Riding Hood."

Within their albums one can find aggressive electric guitars, catchy song lyrics, an acoustic tune every now and again, even a quiet melodic song buried within their CDs. While their music may dance around previously drawn genre lines, their attitude holds true to the punk rock mentality.

"We want our songs to be catchy and fun, but punk rock is at its best when it is something to rail against," Sluggo said. "Since I've been playing there's been Reagan, Bush, oil spills. There are no shortage of things to be mildly upset about."

Their music isn't overtly political. They are more fueled by fun and making a spectacle of themselves, Sluggo said. Their worst fear is boring their audience. "I think we're doing all right if someone hates our music. At least they're listening and we're getting some sort of a reaction."

Such carefree attitudes have contributed to holding the core members of the band together for 11 years, getting them a headlining position at the Haight Street Fair, getting shut down at a performance or two and featuring their poster in the next Superman film. The Grannies were even painted by Frank Bauer in an 8-foot-by-5-foot oil piece that sold for $25,000.

Alaska is their next challenge.

"We're not too worried about what a community is used to seeing," Sluggo said. "We'll have fun no matter what."

The Grannies shouldn't have any trouble with a community like Homer where residents appreciate the need for an artistic outlet in their daily lives, whether it be electric guitars or watercolors.

The Grannies isn't a career for its members, it's not how they feed their children.

When these men aren't dressed in drag they're picture framers, cab drivers, massage therapists. But The Grannies is their outlet for daytime careers that limit their creativity that leave them with little control.

"It doesn't pay off monetarily," Sluggo said, "but this band is our outlet and the love of our lives."

Meet Special Edna, Drool Cup, Granzig, Stagger G (Sluggo) and Granimal at 10 p.m. Thursday, Aug. 5 at The Down East Saloon where they will be playing music from their latest recording, "Hot Flashes."

Jessica Knox is a freelance writer who lives in Homer.