Voyagers and Glory Fires: The Top 14 Albums of 2014 (unabridged)

Hello! It's been a while since I've written here. As I imagine most readers know, I've been busy writing for Boise Weekly this past year. It's been a lot of work, but overall, it's been great.

This article was originally published in an abridged version in the Weekly on Jan. 7, 2015 (an apparent upload mishap made it even more abridged). I decided to publish the full version here--with the kind permission of BW, I should add--because I worked hard on it and, God help me, I actually think the writing's pretty good. Hopefully, you good people will feel the same. More importantly, I hope you like the albums I picked and maybe discover something you didn't know about.

Also, I thought that this could serve as notice that I intend to write more for HCTD in the coming year. Admittedly, 2015 has already been keeping me busy: On top of working four different paying gigs, I'm looking into contributing to a Boise-based music website that's being set up (stay tuned for info on that). Nonetheless, I do miss writing stuff here. Leaving alone the freedom to write whatever I want however I want, I have by no means forgotten that this crude-looking, stupidly named blog has been the source of nearly everything good that has happened in my life over the past three years. For that and for your readership, I will always be grateful.

Okay, enough preface. Hope you enjoy!


Tough times call for tough music--music that challenges, surprises, enlightens and delights. Whether it came from young upstarts staking their claims or old lions roaring once again, a lot of this kind of music came out last year. Here are 14 of the best albums of 2014.

Lee Bains III & the Glory Fires, Dereconstructed

The Clash is alive and well and jamming with Lynyrd Skynyrd in Birmingham, Ala. As unlikely as this description may seem, it's really what Dereconstructed sounds like.

Birmingham-raised, NYU-educated Lee Bains proclaims his undying love for the South while railing against some of its--and America's--many ills: racism, homophobia, thieving businessmen, regressive politics, blind consumerism. He and the Glory Fires back up these fighting words with snarling guitars and a rhythm section that can handle sludgy stomp, mid-tempo boogie and full-throttle blitzkrieg.

The Bitter Southerner declared that this punk-Southern rock hybrid "may be the most important record about the South ever released." It may also be the best rock album of 2014.

Jenny Lewis, The Voyager

Many reviews of The Voyager reference the rough patch that Jenny Lewis went through over the past few years. These experiences--the death of her father, the breakup of her band Rilo Kiley, struggles with insomnia--may have influenced the album, but focusing on them can distract you from the wit, empathy and complexity of her songwriting.

With production help from Beck and Ryan Adams, Lewis depicts women making their own mistakes, learning their own lessons and speaking their own minds. These concise tales of sexual and chemical experimentation feature some of the sharpest melodies and slyest vocals of her career, making The Voyager and almost perfect pop-rock album.

Run the Jewels, Run the Jewels 2

At Treefort 2014, Run the Jewels' Killer Mike got a crowd full of Idahoans to shout, "Fuck Ronald Reagan!" With their second album together, he and partner El-P pull off something equally audacious.

Run the Jewels 2 mixes social protest, trash talk and blunt-and-booze glorification without shortchanging any of them. Killer Mike and El-P deliver it all with slamming beats, razor-sharp rhymes and quicksilver flow. Add it up and you have an album that can support cameos from both ex-Rage Against the Machine frontman Zach de la Rocha and ex-Three 6 Mafia rapper Gangsta Boo. The latter, incidentally, comes on a sex rap that practices equal opportunity while piling on raunchy details.

Seun Kuti, A Long Way to the Beginning

As Jakob Dylan or Sean and Julian Lennon could tell you, making music under the shadow of a legendary parent isn't easy. As the youngest son of Afrobeat creator and political firebrand Fela Kuti, Seun Kuti's cross would seem especially hard to bear. He's managing just fine, though, in part because he inherited Fela's band. He's also absorbed his dad's vision and, in some ways, improved on it: "Black Woman," the soulful closing track on Beginning, helps clean out the bad taste left by Fela's condescending "Lady."

Seun's taste in producers helps too. While From Africa with Fury: Rise (2011) featured production from Brian Eno, the Nigerian musician turned to jazz-hip-hop cross-pollinator Robert Glasper for his latest album. Together, they concoct a denser, faster and more abrasive take on the elder Kuti's meld of funk, jazz and High Life. You might think of it as Public Enemy to Fela's James Brown.

Drive-By Truckers, English Oceans

The Drive-By Truckers have gone through two major crises in the course of their 18-year career. The first, which led to the firing of singer-guitarist Jason Isbell, produced the masterpiece Brighter Than Creation's Dark (2008). The second, which caused bassist Shonna Tucker and guitarist John Neff to quit, produced English Oceans, the Truckers' best album since Brighter.

It's tempting to infer that the band's internal struggles seeped into the album's songs: More than usual, Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley's lyrics focus on fraught, complicated relationships. What's more important, though, is that the two songwriters delineate those relationships with humor, wisdom, respect and solid tunes. Two acidic portraits of political hustlers provide some socio-cultural perspective. The two songs that bookend Oceans--Cooley's tough-talking, hard-rocking "Shit Shots Count" and Hood's majestic "Grand Canyon"--provide uplift.

John Nemeth, Memphis Grease

If you like your soul music with two dimensions or less, go ahead and buy St. Paul and the Broken Bones' much-hyped Half the City. If you want the real thing, pick up the latest release from one of Boise's favorite sons.

On Memphis Grease, John Nemeth joins forces with The Bo-Keys, whose members have played with Rufus Thomas, Al Green and Otis Redding (bassist Scott Bomar also scored the great 2005 hip-hop film Hustle and Flow). Nemeth's smooth, nuanced vocals almost steal "Crying" away from Roy Orbison. Also, you might wonder who wrote songs like "If It Ain't Broke" and "Keep the Love a Comin'" until you check the album credits and see that the man did himself. (Sidenote: Nemeth didn't write this one. Otis Rush did.)

St. Vincent, St. Vincent

Annie Clark, a.k.a. St. Vincent, has been dropping so many jaws lately that her music and videos should come with a warning label from the American Dental Association. She stunned viewers and critics with her cover of Nirvana's "Lithium" at the 2014 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony. Last February, she released her most accomplished and accessible album to date.

On St. Vincent, Clark wraps her idiosyncratic lyrics and playful, alluring vocals in bumptious beats, mind-warping noises and loads of irresistible hooks. It's too bad that Lady Gaga already used the title Artpop: This album embodies the concept better than almost any in recent memory.

Sylvan Esso, Sylvan Esso

While St. Vincent kicks down the door, Sylvan Esso sneaks in through the window. Amelia Meath's sweet coo and grounded lyrics ride atop Nick Sanborn's waves of sinuous beats and quirky synthesizer hooks. This spare, clever electro-pop may seem unassuming at first, but these songs will stay stuck in your head for days if not weeks.

Wussy, Attica!

Is Wussy, as Robert Christgau claims, "the best band in America?" It's debatable, but the case for this Cincinnati, Ohio-based indie-rock band gets stronger with each new album.

Wussy's latest, Attica!, is its best yet. Front-people Lisa Walker and Chuck Cleaver have never sung with more confidence or delicacy. A beefed-up rhythm section and some distorted slide add heft and bite to the duo's surefire melodies and droning guitars. Thanks to the power and beauty of the music, Walker and Cleaver sound triumphant even when they compare their apartment to a prison cell or sift through the ashes of their burnt-down home.

Angaleena Presley, American Middle Class

Sturgill Simpson may sound like Waylon Jennings, but his hit record Metamodern Sounds in Country Music has more in common with Youth Lagoon's The Year of Hibernation. Both albums let listeners indulge a fantasy of escaping from this mean old world.

With Angaleena Presley's American Middle Class, such opiates for the masses aren't on the menu. Instead, you get 12 songs that combine the down-home feminist sass of Loretta Lynn (or Presley's Pistol Annies cohort, Miranda Lambert) with the tough-minded yet compassionate class-consciousness of Merle Haggard. Presley may have sweeter tunes and vocals, but she hits just as hard as Lee Bains III or the Drive-By Truckers.

Jessica Lea Mayfield, Make My Head Sing

Great rock and roll takes risks. On her latest album, Jessica Lea Mayfield takes a couple of large ones. Singing softly and carrying a big guitar, she ditches her earlier folk sound and unleashes all the grungy thoughts and noises in her head. She gets support from husband Jesse Newport's steadfast bass and Matt Martin's muscular drumming. Make My Head Sing is raw, tender, brave and beautiful.

Tennis, Ritual in Repeat

"Night Vision," the lead track on Tennis's latest album, fuses the sensual and the spiritual over a hypnotically simple, syncopated drumbeat. It's one of 2014's sexiest songs, but that's just Alaina Moore's warm-up. Drawing from '60s folk and girl groups as well as '70s new wave and disco, Moore and husband Patrick Riley stand up for tender-hearted bad girls and craft affectionate portraits of Vivienne Eliot and a Fundamentalist grandmother. Throughout, they turn three-minute pop songs into odes to female desire, strength and independence.

Various Artists, A Tribute to Bob Dylan in the '80s: Vol. 1

2014 had two excellent Dylan-related releases. One was The Bootleg Series 11: The Basement Tapes Raw. The other was this tribute album, which applies just the right balance of respect and irreverence to the great songwriter's most uneven period. Highlights include Built to Spill's anthemic "Jokerman," Craig Finn's down-and-out "Sweetheart Like You," Aaron Freeman's goofy "Wiggle Wiggle" and Lucius's transcendent "When the Night Comes Falling from the Sky."

The Old 97's, Most Messed Up

"We've been doing this longer than you've been alive," Rhett Miller sings on the first song. You wouldn't know it from the way these alt-country stalwarts kick out the jams on their tenth studio album. With amped-up tempos and unfailingly catchy tunes, they get drunk and get it on like a bunch of freshly minted 21 year-olds. Is it really better to burn out than to fade away? Looks like The Old 97's will find out.

Honorable Mention
Wovenhand, Refractory Obdurate
Frazey Ford, Indian Ocean
Dave Alvin & Phil Alvin, Common Ground
Bob Mould, Beauty and Ruin
Robert Plant, lullaby and... The Ceaseless Roar
Desert Noises, 27 Ways
The Both, The Both
Eyehategod, Eyehategod
YOB, Clearing the Path to Ascend
tUnE-yArDs, nikki nack
White Lung, Deep Fantasy
Brandy Clark, 12 Stories
Peter Murphy, Lion
Badbadnotgood, III
Thompson, Family
Aan, Amor Ad Nauseum
Azealia Banks, Broke With Expensive Taste (note: This one came VERY close to making the top 14 list. If you have any feel for hip-hop, check it out. Aside from a surf-rock parody near the end--seriously, WTF?--this album is stunning.)

You can find info on Facebook and elsewhere online. And if you haven't done it already, follow HCTD on Facebook to keep track of what I'm up to. (You'd think it would've dawned on me to mention that a couple years ago...)

History of Boise Rock Showcase @ El Korah Shrine (3/19/14)

As readers of this blog or my Boise Weekly stuff may have surmised, I've grown interested in the history of Boise music over the past couple of years. So of course I wanted to check out this show, which was organized by Todd Dunnigan and featured seven Idaho acts from the '80s and '90s. It was just fortuitous that the Weekly hooked me up with a Treefort press pass and said they wanted a small write-up on this deal.

I counted about 50 people inside the El Korah's main hall and some others outside when I arrived. Among these folks, I spotted Todd Dunnigan, who was an invaluable source for my big ol' Treefort feature, and Record Exchange manager John O'Neil (aka my boss). There were so many people by the last set that I didn't bother trying to count them. The audience had a high percentage of mid-30's-plus people, which you might have expected, and some younger kids (the children of the middle-agers, maybe?).

Acts who played:

Splinter: At first, this trio's country-flavored tunes, jangling guitar, tuneful basslines and steady drums made me think of Gin Blossoms. However, my friend Annie Berical thought they sounded more like Uncle Tupelo. Since she heard later that deceased drummer Andy Capps was a big Uncle Tupelo fan, I'll defer to her judgment. Smart gal, Annie. Pretty too.

Anyway, Annie also said that she wished this band were around on a more regular basis. Given their catchy melodies and their increasingly confident groove, I wouldn't have minded either. In any case, it was nice to see Mike Rundle, formerly of aka Belle, behind the drum kit again.

"We're surprised we're playing Treefort too."--guitarist Trent McNair

The Melting: Now THIS was a group I wish I could see more regularly. Their ringing guitar hooks, snarling solos, propulsive rhythms and sweet, high vocals somehow managed to fuse New Wave, disco and metal. The fact that lead singer Deidre Rodman had to rehearse with the rest of the band via FaceTime rendered their tight groove doubly impressive.

Was this group this great back in the day? I wonder, but I guess it doesn't really matter. I just hope I get to see them again. It could happen: Rodman mentioned that they'd play another show in Portland soon.

"So Mom, there's still a chance this band will ruin my life," quipped guitarist Joe Davis. "There's hope for me yet."

MC Shake: Ice-T and Eric B. & Rakim fan (not to mention James Brown obsessive) that I am, I was primed to dig MC Shake's steady flow and his band's nice, nasty '70s-style funk (chicken-scratch guitar, rubbery bass, strong 4/4 beat, sultry backup vocals). A song from the Rotating Tongues anthology had an oozing Dr. Dre-esque groove, but Shake's anti-violence, anti-racism lyrics elsewhere were much preferable to your standard blunts-and-bitches shtick.

"Just a funky little crew out of Caldwell," Shake rapped. That wasn't no joke. No, really.

El Dopamine: Another person might be wary of reviewing his/her boss's band. Me, I know John O'Neil to be a wise, kind, unfailingly gracious individual. Oh, and did I mention how handsome he is? (Please don't fire me, John.)

But seriously, knowing John outside of music--well, outside of his band, anyway--I suppose that I could've expected his smart, acerbic lyrics. The same goes for the touches of Neil Young and grunge in the music (ambling rhythms, buzzsaw guitars). But the catchy tunes and the raw solos, maybe not so much. Thomas Paul's melodic basslines were a good addition as well. When combined with O'Neil's rough but not unpleasant whine, the music occasionally called to mind a more emotionally balanced Nirvana.

The surprises that an old curmudgeon will throw at you. I mean that fondly, of course. (Please don't fire me, John.)

Haggis: When I interviewed him, Todd Dunnigan told me that Andy A (Raid, Demoni) was surprised at the demand for his old hardcore band. "Where were these people when we were actually playing?" the punk stalwart reportedly said. "It just seemed like no one came to our shows then."

There was certainly a sizable crowd this night to hear this band's full-speed-ahead hardcore, which was as thunderous as you could want and had some melodious touches too (hey, harmonies). Andy A delivered some searing guitar solos. The lead singer sounded a bit hoarse, but that could've been because of the dry Idaho air. The only thing a little odd about the set was the fact that it was at the El Korah--probably woulda suited the Shredder or the Red Room/Crazy Horse better. Still, the audience did some good moshing for the last number.

Graveltruck: I don't think it was just Jake Hite manning the drum kit that made me think of this group as a more rough-hewn Very Most. The sweet melodies and glittering guitar undoubtedly helped. Their groove sounded a little disjointed at first but congealed as the set progressed. Quirky, charming stuff.

Caustic Resin: The big-ticket item on this bill. I forget who, but I recall someone telling me he wanted to catch this set just to see how big a train-wreck it was. Actually, it really wasn't bad at all. Yeah, there were more than a couple false starts due to Brett Netson needing to re-tune his guitar (took him a while each time too). However, Tom Romich/Tommy Dirtweed's oddball banter and Netson's drier remarks helped smooth these rough patches over. Besides, when the band was on, they were ON: hypnotically droning riffs, tripped-out distortion, muscular drumming. Roiling, primal stoner rock. Some weird-ass projections courtesy of Jason Willford and a guest spot for Trevor Netson were nice touches as well.

Brett Netson: "Hey Tom! Thank you."
Tom Romich: "Thank you! I still wanna see everybody cut your hair, though."

You can find info on these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online. Special thanks to Boise Weekly and Treefort Music Fest.

Hollow Wood, Psycho Adorable and Ancient Psychic Tandem War Elephant @ the Crux (11/3/13)

A few days prior to this show, my now ex-girlfriend Jenn (long story, don't wanna get into it here) heard a song by Hollow Wood on Radio Boise and loved it.  She couldn't believe that a band like that was local, she said.  So when I told her about this concert, she readily agreed to check it out.  This worked out well all around, since the show gave me the chance to see Psycho Adorable's first performance back from their 11-week tour and to see the fantastically named Ancient Psychic Tandem War Elephant for the first time.

I counted over 50 people when I arrived at the Crux.  I saw some of my now former Exposition/Noisefan Music News colleagues (short answer: my connection with the Weekly made my continued association with NFMN untenable), Aaron Christensen (Mt. Joy), Samwise Carlson (Woodwind) and various scene regulars.  Jenn showed up midway through APTWE's set.

While I waited for the music to start, Amber Pollard's daughter Aubrey (possibly one of the most adorable children in the Treasure Valley) ran past me.  "Hi Ben!" she said.  She circled around and ran past me again.  "Hi Ben!" she said again.  Thinking about this now, I still smile.

Ancient Psychic Tandem War Elephant--which turned out to be Brett Hawkins's solo act backed by his brother Taylor on drums and Sun Blood Stories' Ben Kirby on bass--opened the show.  I liked Hawkins fine with just a guitar, but he got farther with a little help from his friends.  With Taylor Hawkins' steady beat and Kirby's viscous bass giving them support, Brett Hawkins' droning riffs had greater force and his vocals greater confidence.  Also welcome were Judah Claffey and Austin Lucas' maudlin violins (that there Lucas can play).  The set's earlier songs took me back to the days when "Creep" played on MTV.  The later songs sounded like Daniel Johnston having a drink with Jimmy Reed.

Psycho Adorable played next.  Their debut performance back in August left me with mixed feelings; it certainly wasn't bad, but it wasn't the fusion of styles and spirits I'd hoped for.  The bond between Bronwyn Leslie and Kelsey Swope felt much stronger here.  Even their outfits seemed to complement each other--grandma-ish blue house-dress and white mesh sweater for Leslie, grandpa-ish short-sleeve blouse and baggy gray trousers for Swope.  Also, while she's never seemed like a pushover (I saw her one time dressed as Kathleen Hanna), Swope gave off a much tougher vibe than last I'd seen her.  On the numbers where she took lead, her vocals sounded rougher.  On the ones where Leslie took lead, Swope stood and hovered (protectively?) over her partner while singing backup.

I'd be interested to hear more about their experiences on the road.  And I'll definitely be interested to hear what they come up with from here, together or individually.

Hollow Wood closed out the night.  Speaking of tougher, this group rocked a lot harder than last I saw them.  I don't know if Adam Jones was trying to channel Clint Eastwood with his poncho, but between the grinding guitars, the vrooming bass and the bubbling beats, the music almost channeled Zeppelin at times.  The vocals and the lyrics were edgier too ("OMG!" I thought. "Did they REALLY just say, 'I could f*ck a virgin'!?").  For me, everything came to a head with the dance-y number about 100 years full of pain and fear.  Instead of sounding trepidatious or despairing, the band barreled ahead as if they couldn't wait to enter the fray.  Sounded as melodious as ever too.  God bless 'em.  And Godspeed.

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

a.k.a. Belle, Brett Hawkins, Calico and Woodwind @ the Crux (11/1/13)

This show was a two-birds-one-stone opportunity for me and my lady-friend: it gave us the chance to see a show at the Crux, which she hadn't done before, and to see a.k.a. Belle, about whom I'd chewed off a decently sized portion of her ear.  As an added bonus, this gave us the chance to show some support for Go Listen Boise, who had teamed up with Heather Roberts's Ten Gallon Cat to make this show part of the former's Local Music Spree.

I counted about nineteen people when we got to the Crux.  The crowd looked mostly on the younger side (early 20's or under, I'd guess).  When a.k.a. Belle soundchecked, the crowd numbered about forty and looked mostly middle-aged.  By the way, the woman in the black-and-white striped blouse is Jenn Siegel, my lady-friend.  It's hard to tell from this distance, but she's pretty gorgeous.  She'll probably appear fairly regularly in future blog posts.

Woodwind opened the show.  Back when my friend Keesha Renna ran the Crux's open mic, I saw a young gentleman perform.  He played one song that blew me away--lovely folk melody; clean, boyish tenor; understated, pained lyrics.  Made me think a little of Nick Drake or maybe Ronnie Lane.  I'd wondered in the months that followed what that guy was up to.  When local newcomer Samwise Carlson played his finale, it hit me: "Holy crap, it's him!"  That last song's melody sounded just as beautiful as I'd remembered, and Carlson's other tunes were almost as pretty.  The stray lyrics that I caught didn't sound too bad either.  Now that I have a name to attach to him, I'll be sure to keep my eye on him in the future.

Calico played next.  I worked the Record Exchange's merch booth when this young group played Alive After Five.  As I recall, they sold about seventy copies of their debut EP, which NEVER happens with a local act.  It's worth noting too that Calico's song "In Our Town" supplied the name for Boise 150's special CD compilation.

Now, do these achievements mean that Calico will be the next big thing for Boise music?  I wouldn't say that.  I would say, however, that they definitely have potential.  Their rhythms could use some livening up, and they come across as a little too solemn and serious right now (so people will take them seriously?).  Still, their melodies are unfailingly pretty, they've got some impressive poise and lead singer Ruby Somoza has the warmth, smarts, sass and straight-up charisma of a natural front-person.

Sun Blood Stories' Brett Hawkins played a surprise 20-minute set of his solo material after Calico.  Hard to tell if he's affected or not, Jenn said of his bone-simple guitar picking, saccharine folk-country tunes, reedy vocals and oddball, sardonic lyrics.  She also noticed that his shirt was buttoned wrong.  Like a drunken uncle playing songs for you, she added later (she meant that in the best possible way).  That trumps everything I had, so I'll just move along.  (And you wonder why I'm crazy about this woman.)

a.k.a. Belle kicked off their set with the premiere of their music video for "Mess You Up," a track from their new album (hopefully coming in February 2014).  It's a cute, funny bit of stop-motion animation created by Catherine Merrick herself.  I grinned when I caught a reference to an old Sam Merrick song (or was it band?), "Don't Pass Up the Chance to See Neil Young."

In the interests of transparency, I should probably mention that Catherine Merrick and I are co-workers now; she works at the Edge (the Record Exchange's coffee shop), and I work at the Record Exchange's main register.  I should mention as well that Catherine tipped me off that the Record Exchange was hiring and recommended me to the owners (I didn't ask her to do that; she just heard that they were looking for a music-savvy individual and thought of me).  Readers will make of that what they will, of course, but I've been praising Catherine since well before we started working together.  And unless she starts to suck, which seems highly unlikely, I don't see any reason to stop doing so.

Anyway, I don't know if everybody drank some coffee beforehand or what, but the band seemed more amped up than usual.  Chris Galli's bass-playing seemed especially fluid and nimble this night (I spotted him nursing some kind of warm beverage earlier).  Whatever the reason, they went a long way towards helping Jenn understand why I love this band so much.  Louis McFarland was as strong and swinging as ever (got off a badass solo on the Link Wray-esque instrumental "Here Come the Deathtraps").  Sam Merrick ripped it up on guitar and joked it up between songs, the latter of which got a great eye-roll and an Oh-God-he's-an-idiot-but-I-love-him look from his wife at one point.  As for Catherine Merrick, I've called her the best singer in Idaho before, right?  Yes?  Okay, I'll just move along, then...

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

The Evil Wine Carnival @ the VaC (9/29/13)

Since this is the last blog post that I have in the queue right now, I thought that this would be a good time to make a brief announcement.  As readers have undoubtedly noticed, there's been a steep decline in write-ups for HCTD.  The reason--or the main reason, rather--is simple: I've been pitching quite a few stories/reviews to the Boise Weekly, and the Weekly keeps saying yes (and tossing me more assignments on top of them).  These assignments must take priority because they require more work, they have tighter deadlines and, most important of all, they pay (well, the ones that show up in the paper do, anyway).

Now, does this mean that this blog is coming to an end?  No, but there'll be fewer posts for (knock on wood) the foreseeable future.  Also, in addition to the Weekly, three other factors are competing for my attention right now.  The first is my part-time gig at the Record Exchange.  The second is my role as contributor/copyeditor for The Exposition, a Boise-based music website.  Jenny Bowler, whose fine photographs appeared in my Treefort 2013 posts, has taken up its reins.  There's some interesting stuff in the works, so find it on Facebook and stay tuned.

The third is... Well, she's about 5'9" (correction: she's actually 5'7") with brown-blond hair, blue-green eyes, a smile like the springtime sun and a curve in her back that drives me to distraction.  She's smart, she's kind, she's tough, she's passionate and she's got good taste--likes Dorothea Lange, Rosalie Sorrels, The A-Team, old-school hip-hop and lots more.  So if, on a given Friday or Saturday night, I'm given the choice between covering a show and snuggling with her while watching Rio Bravo or Black Dynamite... Well, sorry, but you'll just have to tell me what I missed.

But with all of this said, let me be emphatic: I may not write here as often, but I will keep this blog going for as long as I can.  For one thing, it allows me to write more informally and (at my best) colorfully.  But more importantly, I know that this blog and its readers have made all of the above possible for me.  As I've written before, HCTD is easily the best thing that's happened in my life.  I love it too much to just abandon it.

This announcement has gotten much longer than I wanted, so I'll end it by thanking all of you once again for your readership and support.  It means more to me than I could ever say or write.

I've respected Evil Wine since I discovered it two years ago, and my respect has only deepened since then.  Their penchant for smart, raunchy, left-of-center fare has been an invaluable addition to the Boise scene; I've thought of them sometimes as the moon to Duck Club Presents' sun.  Also, I've been impressed by how Wes Malvini and Dustin Jones conduct themselves professionally.

I meant to write about last year's Evil Wine Carnival, but between hitting the live shows hard all summer and learning the ropes at a new job, I was good and burned out at the time (I had a small meltdown at the end of the Carnival that I still regret).  Anyway, I saw this year as a chance to make up for dropping the ball.  I was also happy for the chance to write a feature for the Weekly about Evil Wine (though I made the error of crediting Wes Malvini with starting Gramma's House.  My apologies for that).

I worked a closing shift at the Record Exchange this night, so I got down to the VaC late.  Although I missed quite a few of the musical acts and didn't get to see anybody play any of the games, between seventy and eighty people were still there when I arrived.

Highlights (of what I saw/heard, anyway):

Drinking Contest--Held during Glenn Mantang's set (agreeably trashy punk rock).  Winner Tina B. managed to down a bowl of beer before Mantang and backing band finished the song "Malt Licker."  As I recall, she was still vertical and going strong for much of the Carnival's remainder.  Girl's a viking.

Outside after his set, I overheard this quote from Glenn Mantang to his boss: "I will be there [with] eyes closed!  Cuz I don't ever call in hung over, Rich!  I call in sick!"

Scantily clad Dustin Jones and Wes Malvini--Because it just isn't an Evil Wine Carnival if these two keep their clothes on.

Carnival Games--I didn't play them, but just looking at them made me grin.  My favorite was Birth Your Savior, which involves reaching inside the Virgin Mary and trying to extract Jesus from among the other icons (Buddha, etc.).  Erin Nelson from the Rediscovered Bookshop showed me her slightly discolored hand as proof that she'd tried this one out.

This game was a very close second.

Headless Pez--When I interviewed him, Dustin Jones expressed particular excitement about this four-man Portland metal band.  Seeing them, I could understand why.  Between the dildo-pentagram backdrop, the abs drawn in Sharpie on the lead singer's belly, the bassist's ass-less chaps and song titles like "Handy Dandy Butt Candy" and "Dr. Bonerstein," this group could've sprung out of an episode of The Evil Wine Show.  Their impressive chops--squiggly guitar noise, relentless riffing, machine-gun kick drum, banshee-wail vocals--made them even funnier.

Some quotes from this set:

"This next song's about boners!  And Satan!"
"This song's called Power Death it's by Pantera f*ck you!"
"I totally forgot the words!  Hahaha!"
"Shut the f*ck up!  This part's pretty!  Shut up!"

Introducing their final number, a song about a gay skeleton: "He's scarier than a normal skeleton because he'll butt-f*ck you!"

Kitchen--Twin Falls trio.  Good stuff--strong beat, harshly catchy tunes, snarling distortion, caterwauling vocals.  Worth hearing again, I thought (though admittedly, I'd had a fair amount to drink by this point).

Matthew and Charlotte Vorhies--I didn't get to see this guy play with Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars, but he and his wife deserve a mention here because they were just too damn adorable.  I mean, c'mon, look at them.

The Voodoo Organist--Woulda been worth the price of admission by himself.  Tongue-in-cheek horror-movie melodies and lyrics (song titles: "Do the Zombie," "Vampire Empire"), charmingly sepulchral vocals, rockin' organ and theremin solos (flying hands and feet).

Andy D--"I got drunk a couple of hours ago," Andy D said at the start of his set.  "I'm gonna burn out the rest of my drunkenness onstage."  And so he did, belting and gyrating and dropping off the stage to dance with the crowd (just the guys, though--didn't want to piss off Victoria D/Anna Vision, maybe).  The crowd stayed with him, grooving out to such irresistible numbers as "New Addiction," "Angels on the Dancefloor" and "Hey Tina (Pick Up the Phone)" (possibly my new favorite).  If Evil Wine had done nothing other than bring this act to Boise, it would've justified its existence.

During this set, a dude from Headless Pez gave me a hug from behind, grabbed my crotch and handed me a sticker.  Made my night.

Tartufi--A late but welcome addition to the Carnival.  Aside from a couple of small slip-ups, this San Francisco trio sounded as roiling and tuneful as ever.  Listening to them again, I was struck by the warm, expansive spirit of this group's music.  It could've been the audience; Lynne Tartufi said at one point that they loved Boise "probably more than San Francisco, but don't tell them that."  Like I've said before, they oughtta just buy a house here.

You can find info on the various acts and Evil Wine on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Very special thanks to Wes Malvini, Dustin Jones and Evil Wine.