Shawn and the Marauders, Jumping Sharks and 605 to San Gabriel @ the Red Room (2/20/13)

On the day after this Red Amp Productions show, I was telling someone about this band from Pocatello that I'd seen the night before.  "There's a band from Pocatello?" the guy asked incredulously.  I'd kinda thought that too originally, which was why I put this show down on the calendar.

There were only about twelve people when I got down to the Red Room.  By the time that Jumping Sharks were midway through their set, the crowd had built to about thirty-five.  Not too bad for a Wednesday.

Local band 605 to San Gabriel opened the night.  I'd thought that this group was pretty good when I saw them at the Shredder last August, and they sounded even more pretty good this night.  I found Tomas Fisher's singing slightly mannered back then but not here.  He and Lorraine Fisher's light, assured vocals blended nicely with the smooth, reggae-ish groove formed by the band's chiming guitar, ringing keyboard and  limber drumming.  Their secret weapon, however, was Jeff Erekson's fluid bass work.

Boise band Jumping Sharks played next.  I remembered being quite impressed by their set at the Mike Watt concert back in October, but I didn't remember them kicking quite so much ass.  Zane Norsworthy's pleasantly plain croon and fiery guitar, Reggie Townley's elastic bass, Mike Swain's elegant keyboard and Ben Wieland's propulsive drums plowed through shifts in tempo and genre like they weren't even there.  The crowd got some good cheering, whistling and dancing going during this set.  My ingrained sense of discretion made me think twice about taking a picture of Reggie Townley after he'd stripped down to a pair of red tights.  But, well...

All in the name of good journalism, people.

Pocatello band Shawn and the Marauders closed out the night.  Early on, I didn't know what to make of this group's unlikely blend of reggae, blues, country, rock and gangsta rap.  Also, I dug Jeff May's wiry guitar and Casey Johnson's sprightly drums well enough, but what was up with Dorian Hitchcock's swooning cello?  After they played a smart, funny boom-chicka-boom number entitled "Raging Alcoholic," however, everything snapped into focus.  Their instrumental and genre mash-up wasn't pandering, I realized, but defiant--the product of guys who figure that life's too damn short to worry about dignity and decorum.  Emblematic of this spirit was leader Shawn Barnby's very evident shitfaced-ness and their cover of Nine Inch Nails' "Head Like a Hole," which featured vastly different chords than the original (Barnby said that they came to him while he was high on opium).  Oddball, charming stuff.  I just hope that their hangovers weren't too bad the next morning.

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

Mike Watt and the Missingmen, Jumping Sharks and The Hand @ Neurolux (10/2/12)

In his book Our Band Could Be Your Life (the title of which, incidentally, comes from a song that Mike Watt wrote), Michael Azerrad writes, "The Minutemen of San Pedro, California, were paragons of the subversive idea that you didn't have to be a star to be a success... D. Boon, George Hurley and Watt proved that regular Joes could make great art, a concept that reverberated thoughout indie rock ever after."  This encapsulates nicely why I respect Mike Watt as much as I do.  When you add to that my very fond memories of his two most recent appearances in Boise, you can understand why this show excited me so much.

I counted about thirty people inside when I made it down to the Neurolux.  That number would almost double by the time that Mike Watt took the stage.  A solid enough crowd, sure, but still kinda meager for a guy of this stature (he got recruited to play bass for the Stooges, for God's sake).  Meh, whatever.  Given Watt's "econo" philosophy, I doubt that he dwelled on such matters much if at all.

First up this night was the Hand.  With their Detroit-meets-Seattle sound, this local trio had the right to open for Watt if anyone did.  Scott Schmaljohn sang the always catchy, sometimes downright anthemic tunes in his raw, Cobain-esque shout and cranked out one yowling, shrieking guitar solo after the next.  Dustin Jones's rumbling, booming bass and Andrew Viken's gracefully hard-hitting drums handled hardcore rave-up and jazzy slow-grind with equal assurance.  They sounded twice as good as they did at the Red Room back in May, and they sounded great then.  Definitely a group to watch out for.

After the Hand came Jumping Sharks.  This local quartet's music borrowed from so many different genres (reggae, jazz, funk, metal, country two-step) that it threatened to feel just a bit too miscellaneous at a couple points.  Thankfully, their strong groove helped blend all of the elements together.  Guitarist Zane Norsworthy and keyboardist Mike Swain's inventive soloing suggested that they could've become a pretty good jam band if they'd stretched out a little more often (a beach ball materialized at one point as if to accentuate this idea).  However, Reggie Townley's bass and Ben Wieland's drums kept the songs charging down the tracks and into the station.  This made them appropriate openers for Mike Watt too, I thought.

The sound of John Coltrane's A Love Supreme on the PA system heralded the arrival of Mike Watt and the Missingmen.  The crowd pressed in close as the band plowed through one jerky, goofy, playfully profound jazz-funk-rock song after another.  Watt looked as if he'd put on a few pounds since the first time that I saw him here, but that just gave him a certain old-fart charm and dignity (as did the moment where he tripped and stumbled back a little).  Of course, it helped that his bass-playing sounded as lean, tough and spry as ever.  Singing-wise, nobody could've mistaken him for John Doe, but his rough bellow suited the quirky material perfectly.  Meanwhile, Tom Watson's wiry, fierce guitar and Raul Morales's mercurial drumming backed up the leader every step of the way.  Three for three.  I can't wait to see this group again.

You can find info on these bands on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Eric Gilbert and Radio Boise.