Musician enjoys digging in dirt

I just miss freaking out,” Timothy Styles begins. “Don’t you miss watching someone go through an Iggy Pop tantrum?”

Styles is sitting on the patio at a Coffee Bean on a recent Tuesday evening. It’s dark and freezing, with a windchill suggestive of a skinny dip in a giant Slurpee.

He seems to enjoy the cold.

“I hate the summer,” he says.

Here are a few other things on his crap list: subtlety, modesty, fey indie rockers, musicians who take themselves too seriously.

For the past year and a half or so, Styles has been playing bass with artful Vegas popsters Big Friendly Corporation, but before that, he was the leering frontman for ballsy rockers Skorchamenza, who seemingly called it a day the summer before last.

But recently, Styles reconvened the band for a gig at the Bunkhouse on Friday night.

“Since I stopped doing Skorchamenza and I concentrated full time on Big Friendly, I got lumped in with the indie rock crowd, which I don’t mind, there’s a lot of good stuff out there,” says Styles, wrapped up in a black peacoat. “But with the quality of bands we were playing with, it was more interesting to look cool at the expense of writing good songs. A lot of this bogus crap, these guys with skin tight pants on. I just find it lame and really pretentious.”

No one would accuse Skorchamenza of being the latter.

A raw, frenzied, pointedly off-the-cuff rock ‘n’ roll combo with a knack for hooks and hell raising, the band was known for their anything-goes gigs, where Styles would smash guitars, shake his stuff atop bar tables and delight in antagonizing the crowd, such as the time the band dressed as ’80s wrestlers opening for psychobilly favorites the Koffin Kats at the Cheyenne Saloon. Their set ended with Styles, costumed as Rowdy Roddy Piper, attempting to put strangers in headlocks.

“I cleared that place out so fast,” he beams. “It was so awesome. I was so proud.”

These days, Styles is focused on helping to get BFC’s third record together and working on a solo project that he describes as “super lo-fi garage scum with some electronic work.”

But Skorchamenza’s return is a way for him to temporarily cut loose, to kick out the jams and kick up dust at the same time.

“I wouldn’t want to jump back into it with those guys full time, because there was a reason why we stopped. It was time to die,” Styles says of Skorchamenza’s long-term prospects. “We’ll do this, if it goes great, in six months, we’ll do it again. But it has made me realize how much I miss just laying into a crowd. You miss the dirt and the scum of bands that just don’t give a crap. They’re doing it for the right reasons. And that’s what I’m doing on the side here, coming up with some dirt.”

Contact reporter Jason Bracelin at jbracelin@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0476.