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D.O.R.K.

On stage, something just wasn’t jiving with Dylan from D.O.R.K., who seemed like someone had stuck some itching powder in his shorts, making him very uncomfortable. He seemed to be whispering into the mic instead of taking a raging, puck rock attack, to the point where I thought the sound guy had fallen asleep at the board. Bryan was throwing down funny lines in between each song, keeping the crowd entertained and jabbing Tyler with a few verbal shots as well. “Say ‘Hi’ Dylan.”

Dylan responds with a quite, “Hi.”

Bryan exclaims in a Circus Ring bellow, “See folks. He CAN talk!”

But a few nights later at Herman’s Hideaway, Dylan sung like a vocalist veteran, sans the stage frights from the week before. Chalk it all up to the growing pains of a musical group, evolving individually and as a team. For only being together a year, these guys have made it way beyond the garage and are putting themselves out on stage and on the road, paying their dues to grow their fan base and a buzz. The show that night overall was spiked with punch and vigor, with a huge dash of melodies and sparkling lyrical themes. D.O.R.K.’s sound goes down smooth, quenching your thirst for head-bopping pop punk.

To get a hold of “One Up,” go to their web site www.wearedork.com. At the site, you’ll also be able to see how they’re surviving their road to fame via their tour diary, which includes encounters of the hot chick kind in Utah (would have never guessed that one), maneuvering a tour van in the streets of San Francisco, and dealing with drunken bar owners, like the one in Reno who “did not pay us because he was blasted and drove home.”

And if you’re wondering what D.O.R.K. stands for they’ll tell you, they don’t know.

Donovan: We’ve actually left that up to our fans. We’re asking them to name the band for us by emailing us ideas of what it should stand for.

One of the funniest tid bits on the site is the compiled list (that I’m sure is growing continually) of Schuyler’s mishaps during the tour, which includes pulling down curtains and rod in Salt Lake City where he tripped coming in the motel room and grabbed the closest thing to break his fall; breaking strings at every show; nearly destroying an entire table at a Chili’s in Reno; and spilling a drink on Corey’s laptop, turning it into an electrical hazard. One can only imagine what else will happen during the next five weeks of their travels.

Makes you wonder. Screw the drugs and chicks (figuratively speaking of course), with Schuyler’s repair bills, how do they afford their rock n’ roll lifestyle?

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