After a second night at The Horseshoe that was by many accounts a rousing, shit-talking affair, French Canadian-turned-German singer King Khan took his wild, beatific presence to Rancho Relaxo to perform with longtime partner Mark Sultan, a.k.a. BBQ. At first glance, Khan seemed down for the count, as when I ran into him he was lying on the ground outside Rancho, but in the end he powered through. Doors didn’t open until twenty minutes after 1am, leaving the venue’s bar very, very busy for forty minutes. The event was to celebrate the 30th birthday of Mark Pesci, a longtime fixture in the punk/garage scene and onetime member of powerpop acts The Bayonettes and The Dangerloves. More recently, Mark has been somewhat of a maven, booking a myriad of shows for a wide range of touring acts. As folk departed the Slim Twig concert that had wrapped, others filed into the new event, presumably prepared to sweat and stay out late.
The openers were The Sweet Sixteens, an Indiana act on a three-show Toronto culture jam. Their sloppy, fun and poppy garage punk definitely set the mood for the night, hopefully keeping those grumbling about just wanting to see BBQ & Khan in check. (Grumblers included my tummy.) The Sweet Sixteens cut it off after perhaps fifteen minutes, and at least twenty minutes after that, the duo of the evening hit the stage Khan and BBQ spent some time tuning, before slowly launching into "Fish Fight," a rollicking song that had a slightly slower, more haggard take, still eliciting a frenzied crowd response. The crowd itself was a pretty interesting combination: punks force-mingled with jock runoff from The Horseshoe show and some the finest hipster douche scum in Toronto. Khan took something of a vocal break for much of the show, allowing Sultan to showcase his minty-fresh voice on some of his own songs, sounding incredible on singalong hits like "Waddlin’ Around."
After a joyful, lengthy bunch of songss led by Sultan, the band switched it up and performed their gnarled cover of Circle Jerks’ "Operation." They finished with another rave-up, and attempted to close the night with Johnny Thunders’ "You Can’t Put Your Arm Around A Memory," sending all to their beds as the clock struck four. Hopefully nobody got fired for showing up late to work the next day.