Shook Twins, Stone Seed and Grand Falconer @ the Egyptian Theatre (9/20/13)

I'd never seen the Shook Twins before, but I'd been curious about them for a while, especially since Katelyn and Laurie Shook were born and raised in Idaho.  Indeed, I was so interested in them that I pitched a feature on them to the Boise Weekly (which I thought came out rather well overall).  Anyway, I also got a chance to check out this show thanks to my job.

I counted about 130 people when I got to the Egyptian Theatre.  I don't know how many were there when the Shook Twins played.  I don't know how many people went down to Tom Grainey's to wish a happy birthday to To Entertain U's Seth Brown either (happy belated birthday to him, by the way).

Grand Falconer opened the show.  I'd remembered this local band being good, but I didn't remember them being this good.  Their blend of folk and indie-rock sounded sharper and more balanced than it did before.  They complemented their ringing guitar, warm cello and clean three-part harmonies with stomping, syncopated rhythms.  Their playful, self-deprecating banter was most welcome as well.  Guitarist Michael Johnson joked about their being notoriously awkward onstage, but they didn't seem that way to me (or they were comfortable in their awkwardness, at least).  Over half the crowd was on its feet by the set's end, and those who weren't nodded to the beat in their seats.  I'll look forward to this group's new EP, which they said they've been working on these past eight months (thought it had been a while since I'd seen their name around).

Stone Seed played next.  When the Weekly feature on the Shooks got shared around on Facebook, this band tagged me in a comment asking what they needed to do to get mentioned in the article.  A little pissy, perhaps, but they did kinda have a right--I try to make it a point to mention the openers in my articles, but unfortunately, it slipped my mind with this one.  My bad.  Anyway, this roots group's high energy and smooth grooves did a good job of filling the space of the Egyptian.  Idyltime's Beth Mason looked a little stiff on standup bass (she'd only played with the band for a couple of weeks at this point), but Ty Clayton's guitar and Benett Barr's djembe held down the rhythm just fine.  Lindsey Terrell's sultry harmonies meshed nicely with Clayton's gritty baritone drawl, and her elegant violin solos gave the music some extra spark.  People danced off to the sides, in the aisles and in their seats.

The Shook Twins closed out the night.  I imagine that if, at any point in the proceedings, Katelyn and Laurie Shook came across as smug or calculating, I might have found their plaintive folk tunes and pristine harmonies unbearable (not to mention touches like the Lite Brite that read "SHOOK TWINS" that sat at the foot of the stage).  But since they came across as thoughtful, warm, funny and endearing as Katelyn Shook did when I interviewed her, said tunes and harmonies won me over completely.  As did their sprightly beats, skillful beatboxing and subtle looping.  Indeed, between their offhandedly sophisticated musicianship, their smart, slightly off-kilter lyrics and their expansive, generous spirit (an a capella Tears for Fears cover--why not?), I'm halfway tempted to call them the only real 21st century folk band.  But that sounds way too pretentious for this music, so I'll just say that this was easily one of the best shows I've seen this year.

You can find info on these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to the Record Exchange, To Entertain U and Idaho Live.

Boise Weekly Review: Lauren Mann and the Fairly Odd Folk, Holly Johnson Loves You, Starlings Murmurations and Kevin Schlereth @ Neurolux (7/25/13)

photo by Tyler Carney

“You guys can join us up here if you want,” Lauren Mann told the 15-person crowd at Neurolux near the start of her set.

No one moved. However, the song that followed the Calgary musician’s invitation earned a round of loud applause.

In spite of a meager turnout, Lauren Mann and the Fairly Odd Folk delivered a polished, enthusiastic performance on Thursday, July 25. The audience responded by whooping, whistling and clapping to the beat.

***

To read the rest of this review, go to the Boise Weekly's Cobweb blog.  Special thanks to Tyler Carney for his photos.

There Is No Mountain (2013)

Preface: In case you forgot or you missed it, There Is No Mountain opened for Angel Olsen at Neurolux back on 4/16.  Click here for the post on that show.  Below is a review of their new album.  I meant to get this out sooner, but, well, stuff happens...

The name change made me raise an eyebrow.  "There Is No Mountain?" I thought.  "What, like the Donovan song?  What was wrong with the name 'Ascetic Junkies?'  Don't tell me they've gone all mush-brained and woo-woo."

A listen to their self-titled new album's first track, "Owl Hymn," alleviated most of my fears on that point.  Sure, its lyrics talk about sending out your blood to search the deep end and what have you.  However, between the sprightly beats, Matt Harmon's spiky, dexterous guitar and Kali Giaritta's bright, sweet, strong vocals, the song trounces Donovan's warmed-over folk-rock psychedelia quite handily.  "Well, okay," I thought then.  "If you're gonna go all New Age-y, this is a fine way to do it.  At least they still sound like the Ascetic Junkies."

The next track, "Wave of Taboo," was even more encouraging.  Over a rippling, stuttering riff, Matt Harmon croons about how the titular wave--a metaphor for all of our earthly troubles and insecurities--will not leave him be.  Not that he'll give up without a fight: "Release me, release me," he and Giaritta chant on the blithely raging chorus.  "Aha," I thought then.  "So the world is still very much with them.  Okay, that's promising."

The rest of the album makes good on that promise.  The jittery "Nail Salon" playfully conveys the hustle and bustle of daily life that such establishments are meant to relieve.  "Stories" dreams of shuffling off all the baggage that comes with this mortal coil.  The subject matter gets heavier from there, ranging from the broken glass and broken dreams of "Broken Glass" to "A Blizzard's" vision of the end of civilization.  For anyone bothered by the totemic stuff at the beginning, there's "O! Painted Hills," which casts a cold eye on both "Top 40 fossils" and religious fundamentalism.  For anyone who wants to keep their options open, there's the declaration of agnosticism in "I'm Not Convinced."  Taken as a whole, the lyrics make clear that the sweetness and light of There Is No Mountain's music represent neither pie-eyed naivete nor willful denial.   Instead, they represent a philosophical triumph.

They're a musical triumph too.  The melodies and harmonies go down so smoothly that you may not notice right away how much work has gone into these songs.  The sudden tempo shifts and swinging rhythms add some kick.  Matt Harmon's nimble fretwork makes me wonder if the man did a tour with a metal band or two.  His light vocals may seem tossed off until you realize that they hit the bulls-eye on every single note.  As for Kali Giaritta, her voice reminds me a little of the good girls in those 40's and 50's films noirs: it seems all cute and innocent at first, but then you start to notice its muscle, heat and curves.

All of these elements coalesce in the album's masterpiece, "Good News."  In all of American music, does any other song so succinctly, levelheadedly, lightheartedly and wholeheartedly embrace death, loss and the meaninglessness of existence?  If so, I haven't heard it.

The same old windy whisper that tells the fruit to fall
Has blown into my bedroom, leaving word behind: "This is all."
But when I look around, I notice I've got everything,
That there's no difference between the joy we leave with and the joy we bring.

Paired with a fully blossomed tune and as sung by Giaritta, this becomes almost as perfect in its calm beauty as John Keats's "To Autumn."  I can't imagine setting Keats to a bouncy African beat, though.  Simply put, this is one of the greatest songs I've heard in my life.  And it helps make There Is No Mountain one of the best albums that I've heard this year.

You can find info on There Is No Mountain on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Their album is available now on Bandcamp.

Angel Olsen, Villages and There Is No Mountain @ Neurolux (4/16/13)

I was curious about Angel Olsen, but what really attracted me to this show was There Is No Mountain, a Portland-based group formerly known as the Ascetic Junkies.  I caught their show at the Flying M last July and liked them very much.  Since then, I'd listened to their recordings, and my fondness had only deepened.

I counted a little over thirty people at Neurolux when I arrived.  The audience would grow to about thirty-six or thirty-seven over the course of the evening.  Fairly typical for a Radio Boise Tuesday.  I did appreciate, though, that most of the crowd chose to sit or stand close to the stage.

There Is No Mountain opened the show.  I'll admit that their name change made me sad at first (seriously, just take a moment and think about the brilliant irony of the name "Ascetic Junkies").  Anyway, since they sounded every bit as sweet and smart as they did back in July, I got over my grief pretty quickly.  What's more, thanks to the stomping beats and nimble, good-enough-for-metal riffing of their newer material, they rocked harder.  Matt Harmon's gliding, Michael Buble-esque croon complemented Kali Giaritta's clean, strong, subtly sultry voice like Tracy and Hepburn.  Also, I'm more than ever convinced that "Good News" is one of the greatest songs I've heard in my life.  I could explain why here, but I think I'll save that for my review of their new album, which will be coming soon.

Up next was experimental group Villages.  From Tracy and Hepburn to David Lynch: this Asheville, NC act's waves of drones, tinkles, hisses and whooshes was by turns ominous, soothing and overpowering.  The audience's attention wavered during this set, but a handful of folks kept their eyes and/or ears locked on the stage.

Angel Olsen closed out the night.  This Chicago musician and her backing band made me think of a group I've always wanted to like more, the Cowboy Junkies.  Everything I've heard by them (the Junkies, that is) has sounded real purty, and I do like my moody, rootsy stuff, but yeesh--would it kill them to lighten up a little?  I mean, for crying out loud, even Townes Van Zandt cracked his fair share of jokes.

Anyway, with her resolutely blank expression and suppressed-sob singing, Olsen came off as a touch or three too solemn and self-serious for my taste.  Still, she did sound real purty.  So did her band's jangling riffs, serene cello, stately beats and dash of Velvet Underground drone.  Also, when Olsen turned up the heat a little on her vocals, she got a nice Dusty-in-Nashville feel going.  And I'll note for the record that the crowd's appreciation seemed much more unequivocal than mine: about twenty people lined up along the edge of the dance floor and hung on Olsen's every sigh.

(Sidenote: I just listened to a song off the Cowboy Junkies' latest album entitled "F*ck, I Hate the Cold."  Its lyrics live up to its title.  Guess there's hope for everybody...)

You can find info on these acts on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Eric Gilbert and Radio Boise.  If you like what you've read and would like to help keep it going, click the yellow "Give" button in the upper right-hand corner and donate whatever you can.  Even $5 can go a long way.

Hey Marseilles and Hollow Wood @ the VaC (4/13/13)

I didn't get to see Hollow Wood at Treefort, but their opening set for What Made Milwaukee Famous had impressed me very much, so I was eager to check them out again.  Also, I liked the handful of Hey Marseilles songs that I listened to, so I marked this show down on the calendar.

I counted about seventy-five people when I arrived at the VaC.  During Hey Marseilles's set, I counted over a hundred.  The crowd seemed split evenly between twenty/thirty-somethings and forty/fifty-somethings.  I'd hazard a guess that most of the former were there for Hollow Wood while most of the latter were there for Hey Marseilles.  In any case, it was nice to see so many folks staying out late.

Hollow Wood opened the show.  When I step back and think about this group, they puzzle me.  Why should I like them so much when I have so little patience or regard for Typhoon, Bon Iver, the Last Bison and their ilk?  After all, they clearly draw from the same synthetic folk well.  It might be hometown chauvinism, but I don't think so.  Maybe they just do it right.

Not only will their melodies and harmonies bring tears to your eyes, their intricate, infectious beats dare you not to dance.  The polish and assurance of their songwriting and arrangements would be impressive coming from musicians twice their age.  Their friendly, all-embracing, high-energy stage presence kicks any hint of false gentility to the curb.  While Adam Jones--with his gravity-defying hair, manic strumming and goofy banter--is the clear focal point onstage, each band member feels like a vital part of the whole.  Sure, the vocals and the lyrics get a little corny, but so what?  People like corny.  I like corny (sometimes).

I try not to make predictions.  Still, when I think about this set--how the music ebbed and flowed, how a hush fell over the crowd just seconds into the first song, how people got up and moved forward right when Adam Jones invited them to, how Brian Bays from the Deadlight Effect came up to me afterwards completely blown away--I can imagine Hollow Wood playing to larger audiences in larger venues.  I can imagine them becoming one of the groups that people talk about when they talk about Idaho.

Hey Marseilles closed out the night.  This Seattle septet kinda came off as Hollow Wood's older, more settled-down brother.  Their steady waltzes, bright guitar, tinkling keyboard, comforting cello and violin and gentle tenor vocals called to mind Automatic For the People-era R.E.M.  Between their music, their clean-cut look and their discreet, polite stage presence, I could imagine these guys being in a spunky little power-pop band back in their college days before settling down to a life of mortgages, NPR, 2.3 kids and a couple glasses of wine on the weekends.  They still had some fire in the belly, though: their keyboard/accordion player climbed onto a speaker during their rousing closer, and the second song of their encore featured some rumbling drums and a nice rocking riff.  Not bad at all.

You can find info on these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Sam Stimpert and the Visual Arts Collective.  If you like what you've read and would like to help keep it going, please click the "Give" button in the upper right-hand corner and donate whatever you can.  Even $5 can go a long way.

Ari Shine, Adrienne Pierce and Chris Jennings @ the Red Room (3/8/13)

There were some big shows this night.  While Neurolux hosted Thao with the Get Down Stay Down and Treefort alumni Sallie Ford and the Sound Outside, the Venue hosted punk stalwarts the Swingin' Utters.  I grew interested in this folk-leaning Red Room show, however, after receiving a press release on it.  Then, after I'd listened to Ari Shine's latest album on Spotify, I was certain that this was the show to see.

Apparently, no one else reached that conclusion.  I counted thirteen people when I reached the Red Room.  The crowd never got higher than twenty, if that.

Chris Jennings opened the night.  He was a little nervous, he admitted at the start of his set.  "Just drink more whiskey, man!" somebody in the crowd shouted.  "That's what I'm doing," he replied.  "It's not working."  I dunno, though--something seemed to be doing the trick.  Both his singing and guitar-playing sounded smoother and steadier than they did at the Crux back in January.  His "He Stopped Loving Her Today" cover was still a little awkward, but he did a pretty good job on "Bartender's Blues."  Meanwhile, his originals still had a plainspoken charm to them.

Adrienne Pierce played a set of her songs next with Ari Shine backing her up.  Her impeccably crafted pop-tunes brought back fond memories of Rilo Kiley.  Pierce's lyrics were more grounded and sensible than Jenny Lewis's, however, and her sweet, light, firm voice was all her own.  Personal favorite: "Winner Takes All," a cruelly kind/kindly cruel put-down of social-climbing arrogance.  Would make a nice companion piece to "It's a Hit."

Ari Shine closed out the night with a set of his own material.  My ears have grown so accustomed to perfectly imperfect voices (Townes Van Zandt, John Prine, etc.) that this gentleman's smooth, roots-flavored tunes and pleasant, polished croon raised some red flags for authenticity early on.  However, since he boasts lyrics as real as anything I've heard this side of Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley, it didn't take long for me to take a shine to him (sorry, couldn't resist).  I was disappointed that he didn't play the lovingly detailed matriarch portrait "Best of Her Days."  Still, I was grateful to hear "Welcome to the Biz," a white-collar companion piece to Merle Haggard's "Working Man Blues," and "Ninety Nine," an Occupy Wall Street homage that could stand tall next to James McMurtry's "We Can't Make It Here."

You can find info on these musicians on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Wes Malvini and the Red Room.

Hi Ho Silver Oh, Charlyne Yi and LeAnnimal @ Neurolux; Bugman's Burkeback Mtn. Benefit/Drunk Tank Extravaganza @ the Shredder (1/25/13)

I'm a sucker for interesting names, and Hi Ho Silver Oh and LeAnnimal interested me.  With names like those, of course, the risk is that the groups will prove so cutesy-poo that they'll make my dinner come up.  Still, I'd never seen any of the acts on this bill before, so I swung down to Neurolux.

I counted about thirty people when I arrived.  The crowd would build to about forty by the time that Hi Ho Silver Oh played.  Pretty modest for a Friday night, but there was a lot of other stuff happening around town (see below for an example).

LeAnnimal opened the show.  These days, it seems like you can't throw a rock without hitting a fluttery-voiced songstress who comes bearing some lullaby melodies and some oddball, sweet-and-sour lyrics.  Still, this local musician had enough smarts and shy, spunky charm to get over.  Maybe she could just work on not banging the mic with her guitar and ukulele.  And maybe she could go easy with the lyrics about the Lost Boys too.

Charlyne Yi played next.  It was the smirk that did it.  That little touch of self-satisfaction, of saying, "Look how cute and funny I'm being!"  That was what pushed me over the line from thinking, "Well, this is kinda funny and the drummer's good and the riffs are decent and this girl ain't no kinda singer but I'll roll with it" to thinking, "I paid money for this shit?"  I should add, though, that most everyone else in the crowd seemed to feel that they got their five dollars' worth.  A bunch of people stood close to the stage and danced and laughed and clapped along to Yi's tone-deaf, excruciating cover of "Georgia on My Mind."

Hi Ho Silver Oh closed out the night at Neurolux.  It's nice when your patience gets rewarded.  This Los Angeles group's mix of sinuous basslines, bouncy drumming, glittering dual guitars and ringing harmonies was worth much more than the $5 cover charge.  Their pop-tunes were as tasty and their beats as danceable as you could want, but they could churn the sludge and crank out the distortion too.  This was their first time in Boise, they said.  Hope it won't be their last.

After Hi Ho Silver Oh wrapped up, I headed over to the Shredder to check out the benefit for Jason Burke a.k.a. "Bug," a local musician/scene regular who injured his back in a sledding accident.  I was happy to see over forty people there showing their support.  I caught a pretty good set by local punk trio Radillac and a pretty great one by Hotel Chelsea, but honestly, the music was beside the point.  Hopefully, Bug's gonna get a nice chunk of change from this shindig.  On that note, if y'all have some money to spare, click here to send some of it Bug's way.

Hotel Chelsea's bassist Mikey Rootnote did not appreciate getting antagonized by a hot-pants-wearing, well-into-his-cups Adam Showalter (a.k.a. local mock-gangsta act Sword of a Bad Speller).  However, I'm sure he appreciated Showalter getting dunked in the water tank set up behind the Shredder.  Showalter still stuck around afterwards to groove out to Hotel Chelsea's set.

Next time people think about talking smack about Josh Gross, they should consider this: the man was willing to strip down to his boxers and get dunked in water in the middle of winter to help raise money for an uninsured convalescent.  That's gotta count for something.

You can find info on the groups in this post on Facebook and elsewhere online.  And again, if you'd like to contribute to Bug's recovery fund, click here.

Naomi Psalm, Joseph Lyle and Johnny Butler @ the Red Room (1/3/13)

A brief announcement before my review:

Last March, I decided to start a blog.  Figured I could use it to sharpen up my writing.  At the very least, it'd give me something to do--I'd been unemployed for about nine months by this point.

At first, I'd conceived of the blog as a dump site for my thoughts on movies that I'd seen, books that I'd read, etc (hence the blog's name, which was a joke of sorts on the Bob Dylan lyric, "I need a dump truck, baby, to unload my head").  Then I started writing about the live shows that I'd seen.  I'd gone to so many of them over the two years prior that I figured I might as well.  Writing these posts proved to be a lot of fun.  Even better, people actually seemed to read them.

Fast forward to today.  I've had the chance to hear a lot of great music and to meet some really cool, talented people.  I got a steady, paying writing gig in September thanks in no small part to this blog.  I won third place for Best Local Blogger in Boise Weekly's Best of 2012.  Quite a few people have told me that I'm helping the music scene around Boise.  In short, the thing that I've wanted for most of my life, a writing career, feels within reach for the first time ever.

And none of this would have happened or been possible without the readership and support of you good people out there.  So once again, as always and forever, thank you so much.

Okay, enough of that.  Back to the music...

This show interested me because it featured two acts I hadn't seen in quite a while, Naomi Psalm and Johnny Butler.  Also, Joseph Lyle's band, A Sea of Glass, had impressed me greatly at the Garage Voice concert back in November, so I was curious to see how he'd do on his own.  Admittedly, Naomi Psalm and the Red Room seemed like an odd fit, but hey, odd works for me.

I'd thought that some of the First Thursday crowd might find their way down here.  Goes to show you my powers of prediction: there were five people at the Red Room when I arrived (not counting me or the bar staff), two of whom would leave before the live music began.  Some of the musicians' friends and a few random people showed up over the course of the night, but the crowd still didn't rise over fifteen.  Oh well.

Johnny Butler kicked off the show.  His melodies sounded just as soothing as they did at Tom Grainey's back in July, and his guitar picking/strumming/tapping was as assured and inventive as I remembered.  His lyrics still didn't strike me as anything special, but they connected anyway thanks to the extra little oomph that he put into his light, pleasant vocals.  When you give your songs titles like "Morpheus," "Venus" and "At Eternity's End" and I don't roll my eyes, you're doing something very, very right.

Joseph Lyle played next.  His guitar playing wasn't quite as astonishing as Johnny Butler's was, but it was still plenty dexterous and had a bit more straight-ahead propulsion.  Both his lyrical pop-tunes and his delicate, yearning tenor held up fine even without his bandmates backing him up.  Enticing stuff.

Naomi Psalm closed out the night.  Her bassist couldn't make the gig for some reason, but she and her rock-steady new drummer did a more than respectable job on their own.  Her folk-pop melodies sounded just as fresh as they did last June, and her sweet, quietly aching vocals sounded even stronger.  Her funny, down-to-earth lyrics retained their charm, and the meager audience didn't seem to faze her or dampen her spirits in the least.  Irresistible.

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