Article and Photos by: Aldo Morazán

Two blocks east from Whittier College, at the 6747 Bar, over-boisterous Lakers fans cheered Kobe Bryant's ability to put a ball through a basketball hoop. Tonight was definitely not the night to stop in for a pre-gig beer. Unbeknownst to these obnoxious bar flies, John Carpenter and his band quietly prepared to rock the socks off a handful of the school's musically savvy down the street. Club 88 is itself one of Whittier's newest, biggest, little secrets. The small hall can easily be mistaken for one of Hollywood's more upscale clubs, as people too dressy for rock-and-roll dance no less than ten feet from the stage to the band's catchy riffs, vocals, and guitar solos. The only telling feature of the club's location is the free-flowing IPA beer, which the school generously supplied for the graduating class.

Individually, the band members seemed to play their instruments with their bare bones. The bassist used no pick, drummer Joey a simple four-piece set, and singer John appeared to know from where all good rock music evolved – the blues. It's a rare and refreshing contrast to the music with which the populace at large is constantly bombarded. With songs like “Rollaway,” Carpenter and company brutally attempted to kick the listeners’ mind into raging against the musical insults MTV and the like spoon feed daily to millions. Their set was a musical rollercoaster that ensnared the audience from its catchy offset, until they were released in a daze from John's final, soloing notes, leaving them to wonder what he meant by “I can't make the flame bend to the moth.”

“The Night is Young,” “All That Glitters is Gold,” and “Haunt My Home” all shared one element: they were equally haunting. “The Night” was Carpenter's middle finger pressed hard against the faces of all who claim blues music has no place in rock. The main riff was a solemn salute to all the bluesmen before him, while the chorus, coda, and solo were collectively a nod of the head to those who still venture to place a piece of their band's well-being in the hands of the blues. “Gold” crept in with a chilling set of synthetic strings. And, by the first chorus, it was reminiscent of something by The Verve or any other one of England's finer pop bands. The driving bass line and all around feel of “Haunt” can only be described as something that was lodged in the back of the audience's head which has now come loose and made wild by the chiming of soft, twinkling piano keys.

By the end of their set, a sense of sadness set in. The source was hard to pin down. Was it that there aren't more musically savvy folks attending Whittier College? Was it that the band may never play these parts again in such an intimate setting? Or was it that some of the IPA beer may go to waste? Good God, no! But, the evening was yet to be over, as Elizabeth Power Robinson graciously arranged an interview with John.


Knocks: Whom would you say is your biggest influence?

Carpenter: Scott Walker, Echo and the Bunnymen, Hendrix, Sam Cook, Roxy Music, Teardrop.

Knocks: You are clearly influenced by blues music. Who's your favorite?

Carpenter: Ottis Rush, T-Bone Walker.

Knocks: What's your typical song about?

Carpenter: Loss, passing away, losing time.

Knocks: How long have you been together?

Carpenter: Joey and I have been together three years. I left college after a few weeks to play for a gospel band. Then, I moved around for a while and joined my first band in Providence. I met Joey, in New York, after going through eight other drummers.

Knocks: How many years of musical training did you have?

Carpenter: Zero. My dad taught me a piece on guitar, when I was twelve. After that, I didn't put it down.

Knocks: Where did it begin?

Carpenter: I started playing solo, in 2001. I was singing “nylon” music.

Knocks: Where would you like it to end?

Carpenter: Never. I wanna go out like George Jones.