With Child, Gem State and Sleepy Seahorse @ Neurolux; The Butcher Boy and Red Hands Black Feet @ the Red Room (1/15/13)

I decided to check this show out mainly because it gave me the chance to see With Child again.  I'd heard that Elijah Jensen had added some new personnel--to wit, his brothers Jeremy and Noah along with Ethan Smith--and was curious to see how this augmented lineup would affect the music.  Also, I was curious about local musician Tim Andreae, whom I'd never encountered before and who was performing with a band under the name Gem State.

I counted about twenty-five people when I arrived at Neurolux.  Another twenty or so would show up as the evening progressed.  I took up my usual spot at the bar and listened to the Talking Heads and Pixies songs on the PA, which were selected by my friend Daphne Stanford.  She hosts The Poetry Show on Radio Boise every Tuesday at 12:30 pm.  She's a pretty good poet herself, though she might deny it.

Sleepy Seahorse opened the night.  The fan of the perverse in me kinda wished that Joey Corsentino had sung with the Jason mask on again, but that's really neither here nor there.  Corsentino's tunes sounded as warm and well-crafted as ever.  The same went for his backing tracks and lyrics.  His voice, however, was in especially fine form.  The slight whine in Corsentino's vocals felt less like a cross to bear and more like a show of empathy for all the sadsacks out there.  It seemed to say, "Look, fellas, I've been there before.  It'll be okay."

Gem State played next.  Tim Andreae's backers (which included Thomas Paul and Mostecelo/Palankeen's Rebeca Suarez) deserve the Jennifer Warnes/Sharon Robinson Award for Most Valuable Backup Singers: their witty, acerbic, angelic interjections went a long way toward making this set halfway tolerable.  Perhaps Andreae's prolix, tuneless story-songs will sound better in their proper order on the album that he said he's working on.  In this context, however, they felt mostly like in-jokes that I wasn't in on.  Even the songs whose melodies/lyrics I liked tended to hang around like a socially inept friend who won't take the hint to go home.  The reedy, slightly smug flatness of Andreae's vocals didn't do them any favors either.

With Child's set threw me for a loop.  Having seen/heard the Jensen boys in various capacities last year, I expected that the tunes would be as solid as rock candy.  I was completely unprepared, however, for  Jeremy Jensen's piercing solos, for Noah Jensen's fluid, melodic basslines and for Ethan Smith's propulsive drumming.  As for Elijah Jensen, he seemed to be in a particularly rowdy mood: he flipped off his trademark mesh cap, got some sharp interplay going with Jeremy and put some extra lung power into his charming croon.  He also dropped the F-bomb a few times, which apparently caused the live broadcast of the show to get cut off.  Personally, I gotta give the man props: that was easily the most punk rock thing that has happened at any Radio Boise Tuesday show.  It was just too fuckin' bad that the folks at home probably didn't hear the part where Elijah Jensen got everyone to shout, "I LOVE YOU!" or the ten-minute-plus jangle/Spector/surf/disco mash-up finale.  Wrote it for his mom, Elijah Jensen said.  She should be proud.

One upside to being unemployed right now: I can see a show at Neurolux and then swing by the Red Room without having to worry about getting up the next morning.  That's exactly what I did this night after With Child wrapped.

I arrived in time to catch the tail end of the Butcher Boy's set.  Between this Maine band's obnoxiously flat vocals, dirge-y guitar riffs and toy xylophone, however, I might have been better off hanging out at Neurolux for just a little longer.  Their music was clearly well-crafted and not quite as insular as Gem State's, but it still got pretty annoying.  Maybe if I'd seen the whole set...  Then again, maybe not.

Red Hands Black Feet closed out the Red Room's show with a typically solid performance.  They brooded their way through their newest song, made "Django's Last Ride" yowl and shriek and stretched out the intro to "This is What You Get When You Befriend a Stranger in the Alps" like they were pulling taffy.  The fifty-plus people in the crowd whooped and hollered it up.  A fine way to end the night.  I kinda missed "Sink the Bismarck," but I imagine that I'll hear it again sometime soon (and not just because I picked up a copy of their album, which is also available on Bandcamp now).

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

Ramona Falls, Dark Swallows and Sleepy Seahorse @ Neurolux (10/27/12)

Aside from hearing that its leader used to be in Menomena, I didn't really know anything about Ramona Falls before this show.  That would've been enough to attract my interest right there, but then a music-savvy friend's excitement about this gig got me excited too.  She didn't get off work in time, unfortunately, but I managed to make it down.

I got a little chagrined when I arrived at Neurolux and found only fifteen people inside.  Happily, the crowd would build to about sixty or seventy by the time that Ramona Falls took the stage.  I saw quite a few nifty Halloween costumes as I sat and waited for the show to start: Elvira, 70's cop, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, Carmen Miranda, Elliot from E.T. (the guy wore a red hoodie and carried around a plushie E.T. in a little plastic crate).  The hands-down winner, however, was the lady dressed as a binder full of women.  Almost as impressive were these guys who looked just like the Soft White Sixties.  Of course, they benefited from the fact that they were the Soft White Sixties.

Local act Sleepy Seahorse opened the show.  Joey Corsentino's hockey mask muffled his vocals slightly, but it did create the wonderful juxtaposition of Jason Voorhees singing like Michael Stipe (not to mention give me the chance to write down the horrible pun of Corsentino playing a really cool "axe").  Anyway, a highlight of this set was a solo-electric cover of the Talking Heads' "Wild Wild Life," and Corsentino's originals sounded as tuneful and incisive as ever.

Next up was Dark Swallows.  I didn't recognize Ivy Meissner wandering around before the show with her blonde wig on and without her glasses.  When she sang in her somberly transported moan, however, I couldn't have mistaken her for anyone else.  Meanwhile, the band's rubbery basslines, indomitable drums and droning, howling, interweaving guitars sounded as hypnotic as they did at the Horse Feathers show back in August.

Ramona Falls took the stage dressed as the White Stripes and kicked off their set on a humorous note by playing a little bit of "Seven Nation Army."  They shifted from there to a series of serenely urgent original tunes that sounded slightly classical (as in Mozart, not the Stones) but somehow avoided feeling too fussy or genteel.  Brent Knopf's light but insistent murmur held plenty of charm but made it hard to hear the lyrics over the bar chatter.  But then again, the easy, playful camaraderie between Knopf's forward-marching guitar and tender keyboard and Lauren Jacobsen's high harmonies and soaring electric violin sent a clearly positive message.  So did the fact that, while Knopf may run the show, Jacobsen's violin took the lead throughout.

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

Noah Jensen, Sleepy Seahorse, Younger Shoulder and Richard Album and the Lifestyles @ the Red Room (8/21/12)

As I was planning out my schedule for August, I realized that I hadn't actually seen an entire Atypical Tuesday show in a while.  This last Tuesday seemed like a perfect time to work one in, since it gave me the chance to see Sleepy Seahorse again and a couple of out-of-town acts for the first time.

I counted about twelve people when a friend and I arrived at the Red Room.  A few more wandered in as the night progressed but not many.  So it goes.  Hopefully, all the people who could've been here were at least over at Neurolux's Radio Boise Tuesday gig.

Nampa musician Noah Jensen started off the night.  He admitted at one point that he was nervous, and it showed--had a couple of false starts here and there.  Overall, however, his serene tunes, steady tempos and pleasant tenor went over fine.  If he can tough it out through a few more gigs--and the little bite in his lyrics suggests that he can--he could become a pretty solid act.

After Noah Jensen came Joey Corsentino a.k.a. Sleeply Seahorse, whose synth/bass/drum tracks gave his performance some extra kick (not always intentionally--the sound system kinda freaked out at one point).  In any case, his fresh folk-pop melodies, his high, earnest tenor and his mature, insightful lyrics more than lived up to my fond memories of his opening set for Spondee and the Very Most.  When you can cover Tears for Fears' "Shout" and make it sound like stone cold truth, you're my kind of singer-songwriter.

Next up was the Seattle group Younger Shoulder.  High, fragile vocals rested safe and secure atop jangly guitar, sinuous basslines, winsome keyboard parts and yeomanly drums.  They formed such a strong groove that my only real complaint was that their songs felt too short.  But then again, listening to so much James Brown may have just spoiled me.

For the night's final set, Chicago-based musician Richard Album handed the bass off to the keyboard player and took the mic, leaving Younger Shoulder to serve as the Lifestyles.  His yelping, charmingly punky vocals reminded me a little of Richard Hell.  His unpolished enthusiasm seemed to seep into his bandmates, who cranked it up a couple of notches but still kept it tuneful.  It's too bad more people weren't here to see Album run through the bar and roll around onstage, but so that goes.

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

The Very Most, Spondee and Sleepy Seahorse @ the Flying M Coffee-Garage (4/28/12)

I was excited about this show for a handful of reasons.  First, it featured Spondee, a wonderful Boise band that I hadn't seen in a little over two years.  Second, this would be my first show at the Flying M Coffee-Garage, which has been putting on some intriguing stuff for a while now.  Finally, it gave me an opportunity to explore Nampa, which I'd never really done before.

I showed up a couple of hours before the gig and wandered around.  If I'd grown up in Nampa, I imagine that I'd have been bored out of my mind.  Coming to it as a visitor, though, I found it surprisingly picturesque.  All of the circa-1910 brick buildings made me feel like I was in They Live By Night or Bonnie and Clyde.  I took a few pictures while I was there.  Here are the best ones:

I found that Nampa's Flying M shared with its Boise counterpart the same pleasant, mellow, thrift-store hip feel: big windows; warm, earthy tones; slightly ratty old couches; mismatched wooden tables and chairs.  Once I stepped inside the garage, I deduced fairly quickly that it really had been an auto garage once upon a time (the place had a big red plastic Firestone sign on one wall as well as a faint scent of oil and grease).  There were some more charmingly mismatched tables, chairs and benches set up, and on the wall around the entrance were autographs of musicians who've played there.

First up this night was Sleepy Seahorse a.k.a. Boise musician Joey Corsentino.  If the balance that he struck hadn't been just right--if his voice was just a little whinier, his delivery just a little less earnest, his guitar strumming just a little less assured, his ruminative lyrics just a little less well-observed, his melodies just a little closer to their sell-by date--Corsentino could have proved annoying if not unbearable.  As it stood, though, his music perfectly captured that point in life where youthful dreams and ambitions meet hard realities and compromises.  I'll have to keep an eye (and ear) out for this guy in the future.

After Sleepy Seahorse came Spondee.  An incident early in their set illustrated why I like this band so much.  After they finished their first song, you could hear a buzzing sound.  Frontman Clint Vickery called to the soundman and calmly told him that smoke was coming out of one of the speakers.  The soundman proceeded to rush about and swap out the burning speaker for a new one.  While he was doing this, Vickery asked the audience to give the man a round of applause for his good work.  "I do sound," he said.  "It's not his fault."

You hear that same mix of sweetness and savvy in Spondee's music.  Their bouncy beat, clean guitar jangle, warm New Wave synth, friendly lyrics and irresistible melodies and harmonies always guaranteed a good time whenever I saw them previously.  I don't know if their absence had just made my heart grow fonder, but they seemed to have gotten even better since they've been away.  Considering the new material that they played, which maintained their tuneful standard yet rocked hard enough to make their Built to Spill cover not sound out of place, that may well have been the case.  It's good to have them back.  And kudos to the new guitarist, whose sharp fills and soloing added a little extra spice to the band's sugar.

By the time that headliners The Very Most took the stage, the show had taken on an intimate, familial feel.  I looked around and saw a lot of parents, grandparents and young kids in the audience.  The Very Most's super-catchy indie-pop-rock suited this crowd perfectly: it sounded sweet and light enough to make it appropriate for children but was tough enough rhythmically and lyrically to keep Mom and Dad engaged.  Leader Jeremy Jensen's gentle, boyish tenor belied his slightly gruff appearance.  Holly Wallace provided some pleasant harmonies.  Lindsey Lloyd got off some good vibraphone solos.  Elijah Jensen's guitar, Jake Hite's drums and especially Brion Rushton's bass reminded me of all those Beatles and Motown songs that my parents played me when I was a kid.  Another local band I'll need to watch out for.

Going back to families, I have to share the most heart-warming moment of the entire concert.  After a few songs, the Very Most's throats started to get a little dry.  Jeremy Jensen asked if someone in the audience could bring them some water.  A few seconds passed, and then a little girl that Jensen identified as his youngest daughter walked up to the stage and handed him a cup.  Awwww.

You can find info about all these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online (Myspace, reverbnation.com, etc).