Strange Americans, Brass Bed and Marshall Poole @ the Red Room (7/11/13)

Okay, so you've probably noticed that I'm posting this review waaaaaay after the actual show.  I don't think it's ever taken me this long to get a post out (not one on a live show, anyway).

I've got a good excuse, though.  A couple of weeks ago, I had a meeting with a couple of editors at the Boise Weekly.  They were interested in having me do some freelance music writing for them.  I've already completed a handful of assignments, including a review of the Blaqks' first headlining show.

Don't get me wrong; my blogging days aren't over.  It just means that I may not have time to write as many posts.  I'll post links for the stuff that I get published in the Weekly, though, so y'all can check it out.  If you want to, anyway.

Anyway, back to our normally scheduled programming.

Both Brass Bed and Marshall Poole had impressed me very much when I saw them last year.  So when I had the chance to see them both again, I took it.  It didn't hurt either that I'd never seen Strange Americans before (I do like a promising name).

I counted twelve people when I got to the Red Room, most of whom were out on the patio.  When Strange Americans played, I counted thirteen.  So it goes.

Marshall Poole opened the show.  If anything, this young Caldwell trio sounded even more impressive that they did last September.  Their thunderous riffs, fluid basslines and swift, muscular drums had slightly more of a punk feel than I remembered.  That could've just stemmed from their tight groove and sharp, concise songwriting.  As scorching as Rider Sloan's guitar solos were, what amazed me most was how Melanie Radford could sing while still plucking the strings like crazy.

Brass Bed played next.  In my post on their Neurolux show, I wrote that this Louisiana band sounded like the Beatles one minute and Black Sabbath the next.  I didn't quite hear that this time around, but that's not to say that they sounded bad.  Far from it: light, murmured vocals blended with pounding drums, twangy bass and phantasmagorical guitar sounds.  Both dreamy and rousing.

Strange Americans closed out the night.  Their massive riffs, hard rhythm section and soothing vocals and melodies weren't all that strange (kinda reminded me of Kings of Leon, actually), but they certainly weren't bad.  If the modest audience disappointed them, they didn't show it: the guys bounced, lunged and bent low as they played.  They also joked around between songs ("Can you tell we've played enough G-rated shows?").

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Holy Water Buffalo, Brass Bed and Uintahs @ Neurolux; A Seasonal Disguise @ the Red Room (9/4/12)

The UT band Holy Water Buffalo has been through these parts a few times before, but I'd never gotten the chance to see them.  That in itself would've given me a reason to check out this most recent Radio Boise Tuesday.  It helped too that the bill featured Brass Bed, a Louisiana band whom I'd also never seen, and Uintahs, a local band whom I've grown quite fond of.  And of course, "Holy Water Buffalo" is one funny name.

Some work at home had tied me up, so I got down to the Neurolux a little late.  Thankfully, I managed to catch most of Unitahs's opening set.  Attendance was pretty sparse (only about 20 people), but at least the crowd gave the music an appropriately warm reception.

I'd very much enjoyed Uintahs's set at the Red Room a couple of weeks back, and this one was even better.  Marcus Youngberg's rapturous, aching howl sounded in fine form.  His and Perry Bentley's guitars sparkled, swirled and cascaded while Patricio Torres's chugging bass and Malcolm Youngberg's rumbling drums pushed the music relentlessly onward.  This was their first gig at the Neurolux, Marcus Youngberg told the crowd.  "I hope they let us come back."  I doubt that they'll need to worry about that.

Up next was Brass Bed.  Their dreamy yet clanging guitars, streamlined bass and muscular drums sounded just a little similar to Uintahs, but their evident classic rock influences gave them plenty of distinction.  They sounded like the Beatles one minute (pop melodies, boyish vocals, dancey beat) and Black Sabbath the next (screeching solos and sludgy, stomping outros).  "This is our first time in Idaho," their lead singer said at one point.  The way his face lit up when the audience responded with a big round of applause could suggest that it won't be the last.

Holy Water Buffalo played last.  Their long hair and tall, skinny frames screamed 70's classic rock, and their music matched their look--I heard some Stones, some Skynyrd, some Zeppelin, some Sabbath.  Luckily, they had the chops to pull it all off.  Crooned vocals joined with twangy, elemental riffs, bluesy solos, soulful keyboard parts, rubbery basslines and dynamite drumming.  Their strong groove and catchy melodies proved irresistible to the crowd, who cheered so loud that you'd have thought that there were two or three times as many people there.  "You guys are the shoot!" the lead singer told them.  "We're on the radio, gotta be careful."

After Holy Water Buffalo finished, I headed over to the Red Room.  Wes Malvini had been excited about booking a band from Oakland called Silian Rail for this week's Atypical Tuesday, which made me eager to see/hear what they're about.

Unfortunately, I didn't get the chance: both Silian Rail and the Dirty Moogs had canceled.  This left A Seasonal Disguise with the task of playing an extended set.  From what I caught of it, however, the local group handled the challenge just fine.  Z.V. House delivered stunning solos throughout, and his bandmates sounded even stronger and more confident than they did when I saw them back in May (especially drummer Annie Berical).  Consequently, their original material rocked harder and sounded lovelier than ever, their brooding take on "When the Levee Breaks" could look Led Zeppelin's right in the eye and their "Cortez the Killer" cover was an act of flat-out shamanism.  On that last song, House invited a member of the meager audience to sing when he couldn't recall the words.  That left him free to demonstrate just how eloquent his guitar can be.

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