Hillfolk Noir, Hymn for Her and Angie Gillis @ the VaC (6/27/13)

According to the press release that I received, Hymn for Her play a guitar made from a cigar box and a broomstick.  They also recorded an album in their 1961 Bambi Airstream trailer.  These two bits of information were enough to get me intrigued.  The reported comparisons to Captain Beefheart, Primus and X and a listen to a couple of their songs sealed the deal.

Sadly, not many others seemed to have shared my interest.  I counted four civilians when I got to the VaC.  Not even ten people showed up over the course of the night.

Angie Gillis opened the show.  She seemed more comfortable and confident here than she did at the Sapphire Room back in May.  Playing to a nearly empty room may have helped.  So could her having run a successful Kickstarter campaign to raise funds for her first EP.  In any case, Gillis's plainspoken lyrics and simple tunes sounded just as impressive.  The slight tartness of her singing suited the directness of her words; it seemed to say, "You can take me on my terms or get lost."

Hymn for Her played next.  The press release didn't mention anybody comparing this Philadelphia duo to the 13th Floor Elevators, so I'll lay claim to that one right now.  Booming, stomping drums mixed with massive, buzzing guitar riffs and alternately ominous and sweet blues/folk/country tunes.  Lucy Tight plucked all kinds of mind-bending screeks, scrapes and wakka-wakkas out of her one-string, cigar-box slide.  Her angelic croon complemented Wayne Waxing's friendly deadpan nicely.  Their godalmighty racket was at once so bizarre and so earthy that it transcended any kind of white trash shtick.  I just wish I'd had the money to buy a bottle of their banana jalapeno hot sauce.

Hillfolk Noir closed out the night.  My kingdom for a tape recorder: Travis Ward kicked things off with a hilariously profane rant about Boise people sucking for not coming to see Hymn for Her.  That set the tone for the rest of their set, with Ward's raucous vocals and greasy slide carousing around with Mike Waite's nimble bass and Alison Ward's limber washboard.  Between the riled-up performance, the oddball lyrics ("Give it up for the hobo with the magic hand"?) and the kazoo solos, I couldn't imagine how I'd ever considered this band hokey or genteel.  And on a non-musical note, I'll add that I dig Ward's scruffy new look (reminded me a little of Levon Helm).

You can find info on these acts on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Wes Malvini and the Evil Wine Show.  If you like what you've read and would like to help keep it going, click the yellow "Give" button and donate.  Even $5 would help.

Calley Bliss and Angie Gillis @ the Sapphire Room (Riverside Hotel) (5/25/13)

I would've liked to have attended this year's Ranch Fest, but I needed to stay around Boise this past weekend.  One of my oldest friends graduated from BSU, and no way in hell was I gonna miss his celebration party.  It worked out well overall: the party was fun times (the morning after, not as much), and the open spot in my Saturday schedule gave me the chance to check out this Idaho Songwriters Association show.

There were about thirty-five people in the Sapphire Room when I arrived.  The official count of the evening was ninety, a number that my own count bore out.  Very respectable.

Local musician Angie Gillis opened the show.  If you've seen her tending bar at the Red Room, you know that this is one smart, tough dame (got good taste in music too: I remember her putting on Exile On Main St. one night).  Anyway, I was glad to find that these qualities carried over into her music.  Her breathy vocals may have reminded some of my indie-centric brethren of Cat Power, but her plainspoken, no-bullsh*t lyrics were much closer to Loretta Lynn or Miranda Lambert.  And actually, her singing had plenty of spunk in it too: on one number, she adopted a nice, sarcastically girly screech to emphasize the middle finger that she was giving some guy stupid enough to tell her how a woman should behave.  Gillis came off as a little nervous--she had to turn away from the relatives sitting up front at one point--but her voice, words, solid country tunes and good sense of rhythm still earned some loud cheers and whistles from the crowd (and not just her family either).

Up next was Calley Bliss.  With her polished jazz-pop tunes and yearning, thoughtful lyrics, Bliss went down much smoother than Gillis did.  She had her share of piss and vinegar, though: she capped off her first set with a sweetly, sensibly strident anti-Monsanto number ("Let's bankrupt those suckers.").  The populist in me also appreciated the opening sing-along of U2's "MLK" (Bliss thoughtfully provided the lyrics on slips of paper) and the guest spots that she gave her music students (she wasn't just being nice; some of those kids could play).  But whatever your feelings about her politics, her vocals could not be denied.  Warm, strong, low and lustrous, Bliss's voice may not be the most beautiful that I've ever heard, but it's definitely in the ninetieth percentile.  Throughout, bassist Tom Jensen and pianist Dustin Wilson provided sensitive support.  It's just a shame that I found out about her so late--she'll be moving to New York soon.

You can find info on Calley Bliss on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Rich O'Hara, Martha Hopper and the Idaho Songwriters Association.  If you like what you've read and would like to help keep it going, click the yellow "Give" button and donate whatever you can.  Even $5 would help.