The Koffin Kats

The Koffin Kats
By M. Alberto Rivera

The Koffin Kats are a trio that plays solid and intense pyschobilly, soaked in gasoline and nurtured in the confines of a cramped van, who deliver rock solid music every chance they get.

There are millions of bands who think they have what it takes to do what KK does, only to collapse under their own weight and egos halfway through their first road trip — mile after endless mile, enduring crap food and questionable accommodations to play another cramped bar where the sound guy swears the monitors were working fine the night before. When they hit the stage they will explode like the time bomb they are, and will leave the audience wanting more.

Equal parts Rev. Horton Heat and The Misfits, the Koffin Kats are clearly steeped in Detroit’s long-standing legacy of exquisitely tough, no-nonsense garage and punk rock. With songs about horror movies, drinking, suicide, and mercy killings, the Koffin Kats focus on the darker, seedier side of life. Listening to their songs, you can picture late TV flickering with static as a black-and-white horror movie marathon plays. Images of convertibles, switchblades, and leather jackets swirl to a soundtrack of reverbed guitar (heavy on the whammy bar) just before the hoodlum-turned-heroes save the town from a grisly end.

Vocally, Vic Victor often sounds like Elvis before he went into the Army. Victor plays an upright bass  (which is how you know a band is serious about rockabilly) and throws it around as easily as Hendrix set his six string behind his head. The band’s blue-collar approach to touring ensures a good show. Like Gene Vincent and the Blue Caps after downing a dozen Four Lokos, the Koffin Kats deliver an uncompromising and incendiary performance.