Negative Approach, Bad Antics, Raid and 1d @ the Venue; Sun Blood Stories and Ronnie and the Reagans @ the High Note Cafe (2/15/13)

I was seriously pumped for this show when I first heard about it.  Initially, the headliner was OFF!, the current project of former Black Flag/Circle Jerks frontman Keith Morris.  Then word spread that they had canceled the gig due to health issues and that tickets would be refunded.  That bummed me out in a big way.  Not long afterwards, however, I received word that the other acts on the bill would still play.  Since a couple folks whose taste in music I respect were more excited to see Negative Approach than OFF! anyway (they've got a pretty impressive history too), I said what the hell and headed over to the Venue.

I only counted about twenty people in the crowd when I arrived.  That number would build to about fifty-six or fifty-seven as the night progressed.  Not the number that would've turned out for Keith Morris, I imagine, but respectable enough.

Local hardcore band 1d opened the show.  Their buzzing and squealing guitar, their rumbling basslines and their flailing drums all sounded sharper here than they did at the Rich Hands show.  Nonetheless, their yelping-dog vocals, manic stage presence and haphazardly constructed songs still felt too rote and received.  Granted, it's a bit unfair to ask a bunch of teenagers to have all their crap figured out.  Also, the fact that they're getting out there and doing something like this is probably a good in itself.  Maybe I'm just getting cranky and impatient in my old age.

Local band Raid played next.  See?  I'm not that hard to please.  It's enough for me if you at least create the impression of coherence.  I caught exactly one lyric out of this entire set: "I WON'T GO QUIET!"  They weren't howling Dixie there.  But anyway, the solid rapport between their buzzsaw guitar, twangy bass and rampaging drums persuaded me that the songs would make sense with the volume turned down.  It helped too that their songs showed some sturdy construction and that their lead singer could bellow loud enough and clear enough that I could kinda make out the words.

Bad Antics, a four-piece outfit from Placentia, CA (it's to the northeast of Anaheim), played next.  I thought about describing Raid as hyperkinetic, but then I heard these guys and figured I oughtta save the adjective for them.  This band's piercing scream, furious drums, greased-lightning bass and face-melting guitar called to mind Motorhead's joyous relentlessness.  With all his strutting and hair flailing, their lead singer showed enough energy for two mortal frontmen.  The crowd matched him pretty well even if some of the folks in the moshpit started to wilt near the end.  Oh, and in case you were wondering what the lead singer's face looks like...

You're welcome.

Negative Approach closed out the night.  This old-school hardcore act didn't fool much with your standard jerky tempo shifts.  Maybe they figured that that crap would dilute their rage.  The only thing more fearsome than frontman John Brannon's slit-eyed glower was his blood-curdling growl.  His bandmates backed him up with some machine-gun drumming and yowling guitar noise.  As brutal and unyielding as their music was, however, they still managed to work in some tunes and a groove.  The crowd became a maelstrom of moshing, roaring and crowd-surfing during this set.  Brannon seemed to express his approval with a curt nod. Coming from him, that was downright heartwarming.

After Negative Approach wrapped up, I swung by the High Note Cafe to see if I could catch part of the show there.  I counted over fifty people, which made this far and away the best-attended show that I've seen at this place.  I managed to catch the tail end of Idaho Falls band Ronnie and the Reagans' set.  What I heard sounded pretty good: an arty, slightly skewed take on blues, folk and country.  Have to watch out for these guys in the future.

Sun Blood Stories played next.  The body heat was all-consuming as the enraptured crowd hollered and grooved to the hot molasses of the band's blues-rock.  The strobe light flickering behind the band added to the set's psychedelic feel.  Primal, sexy stuff.  Prophetic too--I just know that this is what it's gonna be like at Treefort.

photo by Keesha Renna

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

The Rich Hands, Meth House Party Band, 1d and Rollersnakes @ the Crux; A Seasonal Disguise @ the Red Room (1/26/13)

I had fond memories of the Rich Hands' performance back in July, so I jumped at the chance to see them again on this joint Duck Club Presents-Manor bill.  I was also looking forward to seeing Meth House Party Band, who hadn't played a gig since last year's Evil Wine Carnival, and Rollersnakes, a local act I hadn't encountered before.

I counted about twenty people when I got down to the Crux.  The crowd would build to about fifty as the night progressed.  Not bad at all, considering that there were three other shows going on around town.

Rollersnakes kicked off the night.  I may not have heard of this duo before this night, but I'll definitely keep an eye out for them from now on.  Nimble drumming, catchy surf-metal riffs, pretty smart lyrics.  Their stage presence was a little on the wooden side and their groove came slightly unglued at points, but some more gigs should loosen them up and tighten them up.

1d played next.  Their bash bash bash, riff riff riff and bark bark bark had the same glimmers of promise--a sharp noise solo here, some rubbery bass there--that I saw at the State of Confusion show last September.  Those glimmers didn't seem as bright, however, considering that I could only make out one lyric: "F*CK YOU!"  I wonder when/if they'll take the hint from their "Rise Above" cover and recognize that more often than not, great punk rock requires intelligibility.  At least the younger guys in the crowd got into it: there was plenty of cheering, moshing, stomping around and grabbing the mic to sing.

Meth House Party Band played next.  If you're gonna be indecipherable, this is the way to do it.  Their poppy tunes and snarled vocals sounded so playful and articulated that even when I couldn't quite understand the lyrics, I was willing to take it on faith that they made sense.  They sounded a little ragged in spots--their guitar player told me that they hadn't played live since the Evil Wine Carnival--but overall, I was more than happy to hear their viscous basslines, manic drumming and terse, noisy solos again.  The crowd seemed happy to hear them too: there was quite a bit of playful jostling, moshing and crowd-surfing during this set as well.

The Rich Hands closed out the night at the Crux.  Their groove sounded more tight-assed and their songwriting just a touch less distinguished than I remembered.  Still, their simple tunes, peppery drums, buoyant basslines, jangly guitar and rough vocals proved immensely enjoyable a second time around.  The original song that they busted out for their encore sounded like some lost 60's pop classic, and they punked up Bobby Darin's "Dream Lover" very nicely.  Maybe some Motown would help make 'em a little more limber.  Anyway, the ladies in the crowd took this set as an opportunity to get their kicks in.  I mean that literally: a handful of them kicked, danced, leaped and ran around.

After the Rich Hands finished, I swung by the Red Room in the hopes of catching at least part of the show down there.  I counted about forty people when I arrived.

I missed Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars and CAMP, unfortunately, but I did manage to catch all of A Seasonal Disguise's set.  This night's lineup featured Jumping Sharks' Reggie Townley on guitar and Z.V. House's Cerberus Rex bandmate Jake Hite on drums.  Thanks to the new personnel, the band sounded fuller and heftier than they ever have before.  Hite's drumming provided a Gibraltar-like foundation for the ever-smoother keyboard, bass and xylophone.  Meanwhile, Townley's howling distortion and elegant soloing served as an ideal foil for House's gnarled, forceful guitar work.  Very impressive.  Very promising too.

You can find info on these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Eric Gilbert and Duck Club Presents.

State of Confusion, Little Miss and the No-Names, 1d and Sandusky Furs @ the Venue (9/1/12)

Before this night, I'd never heard of State of Confusion.  Now, before some of you get all offended or indignant over that, please bear in mind that I was only eight years old and hadn't even moved to Idaho yet when they played their last gig.  Anyway, this show caught my attention because it marked their one-night-only return and because it featured three local punk acts I hadn't written about before.  And besides, I was just itching for a reason to write about the Venue again.

I showed up about an hour before the gig, and there were already a handful of punk scenesters hanging around.  By 7:20 pm, I counted at least forty people.  That number would at least double as the night wore on.  The crowd seemed nicely balanced between underagers, twenty-somethings and gentlemen and ladies of a certain age.  I also noted with pleasure the plethora of bitchin' band T-shirts (Black Flag, the Ramones, Husker Du, the Vibrators, the Runaways, the Germs, etc).

Sandusky Furs' grinding, tuneful punk-metal hybrid got the evening off to a fine start.  Tony Wright's rough bellow and thunderous drumming locked in perfectly with Dave Wall's fluid bass and Terry Harvey's buzzsaw riffs and ripping solos.  I couldn't ID any of their covers, but they sounded as tough, melodious and galvanizing as their originals.

Up next was young hardcore trio 1d.  At first, this group didn't strike me as anything special.  Howled vocals, jerky tempo shifts, manic drumming and riffing--with hardcore, all that stuff is just par for the course.  As their set wore on, however, I noticed that their tunes and riffs got sharper and that they laid down a damn solid groove when they slowed down some.  Also, their guitarist cranked out some impressive Greg Ginn-esque noise solos.  I take it as a good sign that my favorite of their original songs was also the newest.  Highlight: their set-capping cover of Black Flag's "Rise Above," during which a bunch of guys in the crowd grabbed the mic and shouted the lyrics in unison.

Little Miss and the No Names followed 1d.  Their harshly catchy songs, equally Greg Ginn-esque guitar, hard-driving basslines and whirlwind drumming all sounded fine and dandy.  What really put them over the top, though, was "Little Miss" Rebecca Noel's sneered/screamed vocals and fierce, heedless stage presence (flailing her hair, colliding with the crowd, etc).

By the way, I'm sorry about the crappy picture.  I wanted to move closer and try to take a better one, but...

...that really didn't seem like a good idea.

State of Confusion's headlining set justified the substantial audience that had come out for them.  Sharply crafted chants and riffs met with screeching guitar solos, massive basslines and hyperkinetic drumming.  SOC's music wasn't all just straightforward thrash-and-burn either: they managed to work in a groove even at their most frenzied, and a couple numbers near the end featured some jerky Minutemen jazz-funk and savory Sabbath sludge.  Their set had a couple technical difficulties--the guitar conked out now and again--but somehow, that just added to the warm, friendly vibe in the room.  The only real sour note was the knowledge that you probably weren't gonna see this group again.

You can find info on these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Jenean Claus and the Venue.