The Chats lead a stacked roster of past and present punks at high-octane Halloween set in DTLA

Tucked amidst the gleaming masonry and buzzing neon of LA Live, the consumerist entertainment Mecca in DTLA, The Novo (by Microsoft) is a midsized venue with more rules than a TSA checkpoint. It's ironic that on All Hallows Eve this most epically square venue played host to a lineup of bands representing left-of-the-dial underground punk and hard rock from the furthest corners of the globe. Successfully navigating the myriad of marked walkways and cordoned off sections would earn the wayward concert goer a position with a pretty good view of the stage and admittedly decent sound. At The Novo, only the most elite are allowed to mosh as access to the pit was restricted to only the luckiest of fans who had scored the coveted “GA-pit” pass. Despite the rigidly enforced caste system, the costumed crowd was enthusiastic for the opportunity to celebrate Samhain with Gymshorts, The Schizophonics, the legendary Cosmic Psychos, and of course The Chats - sequentially arrayed beneath an unfurled banner emblazoned with the universal rallying cry of the underdog rendered in bold white type on a black field: "GET FUCKED."

Leading the charge, Gymshorts brought their particular brand of larger than life rascal energy to the Novo stage, ripping through a setlist that highlighted the band’s mastery of charmingly scruffy prankster hijinks cranked fully past 11. Perhaps Gymshorts’ greatest appeal is the band’s ability to successfully add layers of mature nuance to the surface-level shenanigans. From the multifaceted “Love You Funny” to the blistering indictment of empty tradition on “0 Thanks Given,” Gymshorts clearly has a method to their mayhem and the crowd responded in kind, jumpstarting the evening with spirited enthusiasm.

San Diego’s The Schizophonics were up next, unleashing a completely insane set of maximum energy 70s style hard rock injected with modern attitude and swagger to spare. Classic rock n roll boogie collided with punk rock fury, propelled with the kind of wild, Jack-and-cocaine momentum teleported directly from ages past, complete with low-budget Diamond Dave splits and backyard beer blast Grand Funk riffs – which are compliments of the absolute highest magnitude! Capping off their mind-bendingly manic set, The Schizophonics brought out every band on the bill to bring it home in a celebration of camaraderie born from the road, inviting everyone in for one last hurrah on this incredible run of shows.

Breathless and sweaty from the evening’s warp speed first half, the crowd welcomed venerable Aussie punks Cosmic Psychos to the stage with wild applause. Long the standard-bearers for beer soaked rebellion, Cosmic Psychos presence on this tour served as an endorsement by one of the most credible names in 80s and 90s punk rock for this next generation of rock n roll hooligans. Without missing a single step the power trio ripped through an whirlwind set that would have put many a younger band to shame, inspiring mosh pits to erupt across the Novo, even in areas where such behavior is explicitly NOT ALLOWED. Bodies young and not so young bounced and collided with gleeful abandon until dispersed by the waving flashlights of venue staff, only to coalesce once again in minutes, driven almost compulsively by the undeniable torrent of Cosmic Psychos’ riffs and rhythms.

Perhaps a window into a possible future, Cosmic Psychos’ enduring longevity speaks volumes to the continual societal struggles given voice by punk rock, a future where one day The Chats may open for the next generation of shitheads just as their forebears did so exhilaratingly this evening. Announced by the thunderous cavalcade of Cheap Trick’s “Hello There” blasting from the PA, headliners The Chats descended upon the soused and willing crowd like a bored out 6-liter Holden held together with duct-tape and pop rivets tearing a thick, smoky burnout in the pit. The band and the crowd were in complete lockstep from the very first minute, thrashing in collective unison with nary a moment’s respite amidst an unending torrent of spilt beer and tattered costumes. The Pride of Queensland delivered a non-stop blitzkrieg of machine gun call and answer pub punk like AC/DC on nitrous, middle fingers raised in a salute of solidarity with the toiling underclasses just trying to survive and have a damn good time doing it. Joined on stage by Gymshort’s firebrand frontwoman Sarah Greenwell, The Chats brought the evening to a close with a collaborative new track that launched off the line like the last of the V8 Interceptors locked in a dead-or-alive hellride drag race versus the rainbow fury of a glistening NASCAR.

By the time the show was over the bruised and boisterous crowd had partaken in something special, an electric evening of revelry masterfully orchestrated by a lineup of bands at the forefront of their craft and unparalleled in raw, unfiltered talent.

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