Photo of Chris Barrows by Gabe Loewenberg
Pink Lincolns
Sat. Nov. 24, New World Brewery, Ybor City.
Two verses into the first song, Pink Lincolns singer Chris Barrows hurled the metal mic stand at an audience member. The kid managed to put his hands up just in time to prevent having his face clobbered. It was at this point in the evening — well past midnight — that I removed myself and my $5 beer from the danger zone.
Going into Saturday’s Pink Lincolns gig, I had my doubts that the show would be very ferocious. After all, the legendary Tampa punk quartet has been offering its snotty sonics and anarchic stage antics for more than two decades. Perhaps frontman Chris Barrows had mellowed now that he’d reached middle age.
Nope.
Wrinkles marked the singer’s leathery face, a wedding band shown on his left index finger, and when he ditched the shirt, his wiry figure revealed a post-Turkey Day paunch. But a few extra pounds and deep lines around his eyes didn’t stop the Lincolns’ fearless leader from making the most of the intimate confines of New World Brewery in Ybor City.
As most Creative Loafing readers are aware, the venue has no stage. The musicians perform directly in front of the crowd at eye level. Or in the case of Barrows, writhe at the audience members’ feet, leap into the crowd, deliver a line while seated on a dude’s lap, spit incessantly on the dance floor, and push some kid so hard he falls back into a girl that a half-assed brawl ensues.
This article appears in Nov 21-27, 2007.
