Endorsement: The Tomatoes – New Orleans rock ‘n’ roll tonight at Mud and Water

Photo by Sally Asher.

I was 19 years old, working for the weekly rag when the editor called me up after hours.

“Matt, are you busy?” He asked rhetorically. “Go to North Gate Tavern and do something about this band from New Orleans. The Tomatoes is what they’re called.”

I was pissed. It was a weeknight, and I hated going out. The editor had no idea who this band was. He said the publisher liked them (glowing review editor guy, thanks).

“Just do it,” the editor said, selling me on the idea of putting clothes on. “We need this for next week.”

I searched MySpace (remember that?) to listen to the band. To my surprise, I found a band that unapologetically rocked.

At that time, rock music full of piss, vinegar and guitars was hard to come by. I had my ears in some punishing corner, listening to everything Pitchfork threw my way—Tapes ‘n Tapes, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah … Hell, I even convinced myself to like Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music.

Again, I was 19.

At the same time, I was realizing bands from Baton Rouge, Lafayette and New Orleans were just as good if not better than what marketing gurus in Brooklyn shoveled across the Internet. I was starting to go to bars, hearing bands like Brass Bed, The Amazing Nuns, Secret Annexe and Big Blue Marble deliver great sets time and time again to diminishing crowds.

I had to write about these bands.

Once I heard The Tomatoes, I knew what my job would be—highlight a great band. It didn’t hurt that they came from 60 miles down the road, so I had an angle.

I saw the video for the band’s “I Gotta Dance,” and heard what I had been missing—rock music. In a little over two minutes, the band did this dirty ditty that captured the garage rock revival of the ’00s better than The Vines, The Hives and whoever else was considered cool at the time.

For the last six years, I’ve seen The Tomatoes at least 10 times whether it was at the now-defunct North Gate Tavern or Mud and Water, where the band will play Friday night with The Scorseses. The show starts at 9 p.m.

The band delivers on its mission every time I see them. The statement is simple: we’re here to rock, no more no less.

Singer/guitarist Will Burdette writes anthems, whether it’s “Teenage Roosevelt” from Trendy or “Back to Baghdad” from the band’s debut The Rise and Fall of The Tomatoes. It doesn’t hurt that he’s backed by a powerful one-two punch of a rhythm section in bassist George Ortolano and drummer Woody Dantagnan, who hits the drum harder than Dave Grohl after three pots of coffee.

In the winter of 2012, the band released an EP, Into the Blackout, which is easily The Tomatoes’ best work.

In six songs, the band hits on the cornerstones of rock. There are callbacks to guys like Tom Petty and Bruce Springsteen on “Juliana Come Home” and “Elysian.” There’s a heavy dose of AC/DC and alcoholic beverage in the disc’s title track.

Then there’s “Cinema Showcase Eight.” Each time I hear it, there’s something new, whether it’s the na-na-na’s at the tail end of the song or Burdette’s line about levitating before the band goes into this jam that could easily last seven minutes and not get old. Live, the song’s tempo increases and propels like a helicopter.

In a time where music still has this identity crisis and critics remain content to promote bands that have no clue, The Tomatoes have consistently delivered on its rocking mission.

In the thankless music world, I have no problem being the guy thanking bands like The Tomatoes for existing and still making me bang my head like an angry 19-year-old.

Check out Into the Blackout below.