Childe Harold Feb. 7

By the time the Nurses/D.Ceats show started Thursday night at the Childe Harold, the whole audience knew about the imminent breakup of one of D.C.'s best rock bands, the D.Ceats. A dirge-like atmosphere filled the club, with the sedate, beret-wearing, bearded audience gulping up mixed drinks as if they were Slurpees--at least till The Nurses hit the stage.

With a rhythm like the thudding of an amphetamined heart beat, the three Nurses lurched into "Cardiac Arrest"; the Unicorn's own Howard S.M. Wuelfing led the pace with his snapping bass and ringing tenor vocals. A snarky, jiving stage presence bubbled between Wuelfing and baby-faced gangster guitarist Marc Halpern as they churned out originals like "You Can Dance," "I Can Explain" and a cacaphonous version of Abba's hit, "S.O.S." Blond, bespectacled Harry Raab followed the band in the best drooling, catatonic drummer tradition, pausing to smile foggily as Wuelfing hurled a death threat at a certain Urban Verb skulking in the audience.

Wuelfing's magnum opus "Control" had the crowd shaking until their berets flew off, while Marc Halpern leaped around the stage like an electrocuted rabbit. The show closed with a stirring performance of "Hearts," the Nurses' brilliant new single. In a town given to traditional rock approaches, the Nurses stick out. They have their finger on the pulse of modern rock; they are intelligent but accessible, arty but danceable.

The D.Ceats played their final show with an unmatched intensity. Martha Hull possesses one of the most distinctive voices in D.C., despite a tone something like a melodious foghorn. She stormed her way through standards like the Strangeloves' "Nighttime," Crabby Appleton's "Go Back" and the D.Ceats' own "Best Friend's Girlfriend," making heavy eye contact with the audience, and tossing her microphone around like a hot potato.

Guitarist Keith Campbell and bassist Harrison Sohmer, looking like a rockabilly army recruit who somehow managed to save his spitcurl from a regulation army haircut, charged each other like commandos in a spiritedly sloppy rendition of Link Wray's classic instrumental "Rumble."

But it was drummer Josh Schiffman who stole the show, as he sat stone still behind his drumkit while his arms whirled about in a blur. His face was at first as still as his body, then slowly it began to contort into a spine-tingling sneer that would have made Elvis run home for some mirror practice.

After a rendition of "River Deep, Mountain High" that had the crowd reeling in ecstasy, the D.Ceats set ended in riot; Martha collapsed to the floor, spraying herself with a bottle of beer; Harrison Sohmer leapt offstage wielding his guitar like a machine gun; and Josh Schiffman kicked over his drums, finally placing one over his head and staggering around the stage, knocking into amplifiers. Keith Campbell, in a rare act of wisdom, raced to save his guitars from certain destruction.

Thursday's show was an upbeat farewell for the D.Ceats. For a lot of the audience, it was also a promising introduction to The Nurses, an engaging, smart-assed urban pop band.

--Monica Regan

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Reprinted from the March, 1980 Unicorn Times. Without permission. Monica Regan--get in touch!