The Bare Bones, CAMP and Wildcat Strike @ the Red Room (6/3/12)

I made an announcement on this blog's Facebook page earlier today.  In case you didn't read it, I said that HCTD has received over 2,000 pageviews in only three months!  It's not much compared to some other blogs, I know, but it's much more than I'd ever expected.  What's more, I celebrated HCTD crossing the 1,000-pageview mark just under three weeks ago.  This means that views for this little guy doubled in that time.

I've said this before, and I'll say it again: thank you so much to all my readers out there!

This show at the Red Room caught my attention because it featured two young Idaho bands who had impressed me greatly.  I hadn't heard of the touring band, but venturing into the unknown is a big part of the fun that I get out of going to live shows around Boise.

First up this night was local trio The Bare Bones.  They hadn't been able to practice since their last Red Room gig, guitarist Chris Brock admitted at one point, so they were playing the same set that they had then.  I certainly didn't mind, and no one else seemed to either.  This group's fleet-footed, psychedelic-tinged rock sounded just as good the second time around if not better.  Chris Brock fired off some nice, spare solos, Nathan Norton's liquid basslines laid down the groove and Aaron Bossart's virtuosic drumming made the music achieve escape velocity.  This is definitely a band to watch out for.

After The Bare Bones came the Twin Falls psychedelic/shoegaze band CAMP, who played this night without their keyboard player or projection show.  However, between their strong tunes, mind-warping guitar sounds, steadfast bass, muscular drumming and tasteful trumpet/trombone improvisations, they managed just fine.  Horn player Shane Cox's contributions made me wonder what Miles Davis could've come up with if he'd joined forces with Built to Spill.  He left the stage after the first two songs of the set, but the three remaining musicians soldiered on and generated a massive, ear-soothing, sternum-vibrating sound.

Wildcat Strike, a pumped-up, roots-tempered rock band from Salt Lake City, closed out the night's music in fine fashion.  Straight-ahead basslines and galvanizing drums powered droning country/blues riffs, sharp fills, terse soloing and smart, detailed lyrics.  I thought that their lead singer screamed a bit more than was necessary at first, but in the end, I reasoned that that just added to their rowdy, punkish intensity.  I did find my first impression somewhat justified, though, when the band turned down playing an encore because he needed to rest his voice.  Rein it in just a little bit, man.  Won't hurt the music none, believe me.

You can find info about all of these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.