Black Happy Celebrates Twenty Years of Punk Funk with Their Live DVD

Between Soundgarden’s reformation, Pearl Jam’s forthcoming documentary PJ20, and the impending 20th anniversary of the release of Nirvana’s Nevermind, you can’t throw a stick without hitting a reunion by (or retrospective about) a Northwest band that enjoyed its heyday during the so-called Grunge Era’s peak.

Add Black Happy to that growing list. The Idaho funk-punk-rock octet never became the household name that some of the aforementioned acts did, but they packed venues all over the Northwest in the early nineties before imploding in 1995. And like the household names above, they’ve got a 20-year milestone of their own to celebrate.

The band recently commemorated the twentieth anniversary of its formation by independently releasing Settin’ Dogs on Fire, a DVD souvenir of the sold-out reunion gigs they played at the Crocodile and Spokane’s Knitting Factory in 2010. It’s a well-shot and engaging memento, and definitely a must for the band’s devoted fan base.

Formed from the ashes of a Christian metal band, Black Happy were one of the few Northwest ensembles of their era to openly embrace funk and horns alongside metallic guitars and shout-along choruses. It wasn’t a sound born in a complete vacuum, of course: The eight-piece worked a similar side of the street as the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Faith No More, and the many ska-revival bands that proliferated then. But they were probably the only Northwest-grown outfit at the time that could successfully get crowds of their fellow flannel-flyers to shake some serious tail feathers.

Settin’ Dogs on Fire shows that these guys can still kick up some major dust. Despite a fifteen-year hiatus (and next to no rehearsal time), the band plays with awe-inspiring tightness: The rhythm section of bassist Mark Hemenway and drummers Jim Bruce and Scott Jessick is stop-on-a-dime precise; guitarist Greg Hjort navigates metallic arpeggios and smooth funk rhythm guitar with equal finesse; and the band’s horn section still bounces like they’re spring-loaded.

A lot of the songs still hold up famously, too: “Moflo” is one flat-out sublime funk jam, replete with evocative wah-wah from Hjort and a charismatic lead vocal from frontman Paul Hemenway (if only the Chili Peppers’ Anthony Kiedis sang this evocatively). “Three Day Weekend” suggests Van Halen with swing-band horn muscle behind ’em, and “Garlic” jumps around with the spastic abandon of a great old Oingo Boingo track. Drummer Bruce co-directed the DVD with Jake McClure, and there’s real kinetic visual energy to match the musical restlessness.

The documentary that precedes the live music section gives a warm, sometimes funny Cliffs Notes account of Black Happy’s history, and if it glosses over the guts of the band’s ’95 split, so be it: You don’t grab a souvenir from a party band expecting–or hoping for–confrontational catharsis. Even with the genial vibe flowing through the proceedings, Settin’ Dogs on Fire still offers wistful glimpses at what could’ve been for these guys. Black Happy’s everything-but-the-kitchen-sink sound was still in its infancy when the band called it quits, and even at their best they sounded like they were in search of a sonic identity. The mind boggles at what might’ve happened had they held things together for long enough to really find it.