Rocks Off Concert Cruises presents Electric Six

The answer is, I don't really know. His girlfriend informed me that this wasn't the first time he had littered in an act of protest against technology. Having recently gotten out of prison, perhaps he was still adjusting to life on the outside -- and on the outside we were. We had just appointed our phone-chucking friend as the president of the autonomous Republic five of us had recently formed on a section of the aft deck of The Temptress while waiting to depart from the dock; perhaps the pressures of public office were already getting to him.

Had we elected the wrong man? Were we doomed to follow the Luddites in some machine wrecking frenzy? A neighboring nation passed a joint our way and the paranoia began to creep in. Was this a peace pipe or a trap intended to weaken our defenses? As Mr. Weed's girlfriend sat on the arm of my seat I began to question if we were strong enough to defend our ideal location from invasion. The music hadn't even started and we were already wading in questionable waters. When you're on a boat in the middle of the Hudson River as dusk fades into evening, you already have something going for you. You lean over the rail, beer in hand, feeling the river breeze blow away a hot summer day as you gaze at the Manhattan skyline and lose some stupid bet over what U.S. President has his face plastered on the dime. I don't know why I thought it was Eisenhower. So you buy the next round of beers and the thought occurs to you: what I could really use right now is some live music.

Rocks Off aims to accommodate that desire with a concert cruise series that takes place somewhere between New York and New Jersey. The company's name exhibits some honesty in advertising. If you're looking to nod your head in knowing recognition to the musical efforts of the latest cutting edge act then this is not the scene for you. If, on the other hand, you are inclined to jump up and down and sing along with the chorus of a song you kind of know, then you may want to get on board before the season is over. Alcohol is available on the boat and with tickets ranging roughly from twelve to forty dollars, you could easily justify the venture as an excuse to do some sightseeing. Jersey is particularly majestic this time of year. Transitioning between the programmed show and your own experience is so easy it almost seems encouraged.

The night I went, Electric Six was playing. A friend I respect had recommended them to me and after listening to the first album and watching some videos on YouTube I was inspired to check out their live show. Hailing from Detroit, it's somewhat fitting that these jokers in rock clothing should have roots in a city that is in real need of a good laugh. Fans were present as well friends of fans who were just along for the ride. The crowd felt like a geeky fraternity party that was crashed by representatives of Jersey and the Outer Boroughs, reminiscent of college gatherings.

All through the set, random devotees were compelled to assured me that the band's front man, Dick Valentine (not his real name), had the most amusing stage banter. I was never able to arrive at my own conclusion on this matter, as the people in the pit were so eager to react to everything the man said that I didn't get much of a chance to hear what he had to say. What I did get was that Valentine pulled back on his vocals, not quite as over-the-top as he is on YouTube, and the newer the songs the less humor driven they seemed to be.

Though the instruments were tight and Valentine does have a unique presence, Electric Six seems weighed down by an albatross in the form of the shtick that made them worthy of attention in the first place. It seems only natural that they should get tired of playing the same old joke, but there's nothing less funny than a comedian trying to be serious when they don't have it in them. I ran into our phone-wielding president once again as the boat crept back towards the dock. Slumped in the depressive trough of his earlier manic crest, there was a tired look on his face that was a good representation of how I was feeling. The people had voted and the results were in: all dressed up and nowhere to go. - C. Jefferson Thom

Mr. Thom lives in New York City and walks dogs, writes plays, and loves dissecting pop culture.