With the Party of Helicopters and This Moment in Black History. Friday, January 3, at the Grog Shop.

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Grafton bassist Donovan Roth wields the mightiest beer gut in Ohio rock. It's clearly a great source of pride for Roth, who often stalks the stage shirtless, cigarette in hand, an absurdly massive wall of amplifiers at his back. As Grafton pounds through its brutal, brawling, boozy barroom rock, his gut seems to glow and pulsate and mesmerize everyone who lays eyes on it.

It's kind of weird.

Fortunately, Grafton's music will pulverize you into submission before you think too hard about it. The trio exemplifies Columbus's obsession with surly, impossibly loud garage rock, designed to create the sensation that you've been submerged in a giant can of Pabst Blue Ribbon. It's always half a heartbeat away from sliding completely out of tune, losing all sense of rhythm, falling flat on its face, and drunkenly hitting on your sister. And if you've drunk as much beer that evening as he's spat out, you'll think the guy is Jesus Christ -- with Buddha's belly.

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