Longtime local favorites close up shop

Written in magic marker on a white board behind them were all the songs they'd never play again.

"Anything you want to hear?" Skorchamenza frontman Timothy Styles asked of no one in particular at the Divebar on Friday night.

"In case you guys didn't know, this is our last show," he had announced a bit earlier.

Next to the stage was an assortment of the band's merchandise, from T-shirts to stickers, all priced to move.

"Just take it," Styles said with a wave of the hand. "Your conscience will eventually catch up with you."

And with that, the band launched into "Eat Your Heart Out," a blustery rocker that guitarist Justin Vega played from the back of his heels, his sweaty hair flying every which way. Drummer Mike McDonald pistoned up and down, up and down, on his stool while bassist Jesse Love stood statue-still, anchoring the bottom end.

Styles climbed atop tables, shook his guitar as if it were being consumed by flames and yowled like there was no tomorrow.

And there wouldn't be. Not for this bunch.

It was a scene that has unfolded itself countless times, the battered, beloved and beleaguered bar band eventually calling it a day. It's a tough slog for any DIY act such as Skorchamenza, spending years in dank dives, generally playing in front of crowds of 50 to 100, sometimes more, sometimes less, self-releasing CDs, doing it all mostly for themselves and a small clutch of true believers.

Skorchamenza had achieved more than many of their peers over the past five years, building a loyal local following, playing to a full room at the House of Blues at one point and recently releasing their second album, "8 Bit Nation." But when Vega decided to move out of town late last month, Styles pulled the plug on the band.

"I'm glad to be done with that part of my life, because I'm old now, and you don't want to see me at 40 shuckin' and groovin' on someone's table with a gut," the thirtysomething rocker says with a self-effacing chuckle. "It's so not cool."

And so Skorchamenza came to a rather abrupt halt. Styles only had a little more than a week to arrange the group's farewell show.

In the end, a few dozen people wished them farewell at the Divebar, where former band members got onstage to sing a few lines of this song and that while a couple of drunk chicks danced themselves in circles.

Styles will carry on his musical career with Vegas art popsters Big Friendly Corporation, which McDonald is also a part of. Love is in too many bands to mention, among them Thee Swank Bastards, The Tartinis, 1/2 Ast and others.

And so you'll see these dudes again, even if the same can't be said of the band that lit it up one last time on this night.

"We're lucky enough to go out while we're still relevant," Styles says. "I'm happy that I was able to take four nerds and make people care about them. Somehow, we pulled it off."

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