Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars, Junior Rocket Scientist and Ghost Mic @ Neurolux (2/9/13)

It's no secret how big a fan I am of Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars.  I always enjoy seeing them, but that in itself wouldn't have attracted me to this show (quite the opposite, in fact).  A couple members of the band had told me, however, that they'd had some tricks up their sleeves for this show.  I figured that that gave me reason enough to check it out.  Of course, it also helped that the bill featured Junior Rocket Scientist, whom I hadn't seen in a while, and Ghost Mic, whom I'd never written about before.

I counted only seventeen or so people when I arrived at Neurolux.  There would be over seventy, however, by the time that Junior Rocket Scientist came on.  A pretty solid Saturday night crowd.  

Ghost Mic opened the show.  This newly formed local trio had more than a few rough edges; they faced themselves more than the audience, had a couple of false starts and sounded rather stiff in general.  In spite of all this, their crude, clever, catchy songs showed tremendous promise.  They swapped instruments periodically during their brief set, but the music hit hardest when Rex Arnold's screeching guitar linked with Chris Jennings's elegantly simple basslines over Isaac Bonn's thrashing drumwork.

Junior Rocket Scientist played next.  It had been a while since I'd seen this group, but I honestly didn't remember them sounding quite so much like New Order or Joy Division (though I will note that I did compare Brian Anglin's bass work to Peter Hook's in both of my two previous write-ups).  Anyway, that's not a complaint--indeed, that kinda suggests how much I enjoyed hearing their tuneful basslines, clanging guitar drones, propulsive drums and wailed vocals again.  They may have sounded a little loose, but they plunged into the music with more than enough energy to compensate.  I just wonder how come they were only a trio this night.

Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars closed out the night.  As promised, this set did indeed feature some surprises.  In addition to bringing back the flashing colors, abstract shapes and oddball black-and-white footage that this group employed back when they were a trio, they invited Fleet Street Klezmer Band's Shlomo Kostenko onstage to play some mellow, swooning stand-up bass on a couple of numbers.  The far bigger surprises, however, were the set's preponderance of stellar new songs (they were new to me, anyway) and pure hard-rocking power.  While Mathew Vorhies's accordion and Luna Michelle's backup vocals sounded as serene and charming as ever, Storie Grubb's guitar, Dustin Jones's bass and Bruce Maurey's drums surged forward with a righteous, punk-like ferocity.  This performance earned some appropriately boisterous applause from the audience.  Honestly, I try not to write that this is one of Boise's finest bands too much (don't want the description to get redundant), but dammit, there's just no way around it.

You can find info on Junior Rocket Scientist and Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars on Facebook and elsewhere online.

JamesPlaneWreck, Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars and Chris Jennings @ Neurolux (12/11/12)

JamesPlaneWreck and Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars.  Admittedly, the pairing struck me as a little odd at first--kinda like putting together Lynyrd Skynyrd and Neil Young (though they actually really liked each other, believe it or not).  But hey, I wasn't gonna complain about seeing two excellent local bands on the same night.

There were about twenty-five people at Neurolux when I got down there.  I counted a little over thirty by the time that JamesPlaneWreck took the stage.  Pretty modest, but decent enough.

Starting off the night was local musician Chris Jennings, who debuted as a solo act with this set (he played bass in the Caldwell group Lakefriend up until a couple of months ago).  This performance had plenty of rough edges: Jennings's basic picking and strumming wandered off beat, he forgot lyrics occasionally and he looked pretty darn nervous in general ("I'm a little bit shaky," he admitted with a grin at one point).  All the same, he definitely showed potential.  His simple tunes and unaffectedly plainspoken lyrics went together nicely with his multiple George Jones covers.  Also, while Jennings was no match for Jones vocally (who is?), his subdued delivery had a certain charm to it (don't know about that faux-twang, though).  I'll be interested to see where the man goes from here.  Maybe he could do some duets with Kailie Leggett.

Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars played next.  Their spot on this bill attuned my ears to the elements of folk and country that run through their melodies and riffs.  This set was also noteworthy as the debut of Dustin Jones (The Hand, The Evil Wine Show) on bass.  The man certainly didn't waste time making his presence felt: the casually expert interplay between Jones's muscular basslines, Storie Grubb's jangly guitar and Bruce Maurey's intricate drumwork added a whole new dimension to the group's older material.  It also gave them the confidence to venture out into some lyrical instrumental passages.  Meanwhile, Matthew Vorhies's accordion floated on top as serenely as ever.  Luna Michelle's tambourine jabbed in and out skillfully, and her lovely harmonies continued to temper the smart abrasiveness of Storie Grubb's vocals.  A great band is getting even better.

JamesPlaneWreck closed out the night with their best performance yet.  Aaron Smith's rough vocals sounded more assured than ever.  Shane Brown's twangy leads zipped and stung.  Shaun Shireman's bass kept the music gliding along.  Andrew Bagley let off enough dynamite for two drummers.  Their indelible tunes, chugging guitars and thunderous rhythms got people on their feet and dancing.  When the band reached the chorus of the anthemic "Fuckin' with Ghosts" (which they changed to "Walkin' With Ghosts" for this show--they were being broadcast on Radio Boise), the crowd sang along loudly.  No doubt about it: this is one of Boise's best bands.

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

Dark Dark Dark, Emily Wells and Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars @ the VAC; the Soft White Sixties @ the Red Room (10/28/12)

Sometimes you gotta make the hard decisions.  Each of the Soft White Sixties' three previous performances in Boise had kicked ass, so I had no doubt that their show at the Red Room would prove equally posterior-brutalizing.  Not only that, that bill featured two fine local acts, Brett Netson and CAMP.

And therein lay the rub: I'd already written about all three acts before (multiple times, in two cases).  So, much as it pained me to miss the Sixties, I opted to check out the show at the VaC, which featured two acts I'd never seen, Dark Dark Dark and Emily Wells.

Some chores at home kept me from getting down to the VaC until 8:30 pm.  I did a quick head count and tallied somewhere between fifty and sixty people in the crowd.  A damn good turnout for a Sunday night.  I just hoped that the Red Room's show had a comparable audience.

First up was local group Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars.  I missed the beginning of their set, but everything that I heard reconfirmed my belief that this is one of the best groups in Boise.  Storie Grubb cranked out some sharp guitar solos while his vocals caressed the tunes one moment and gave them an Indian burn the next.  Mathew Vorhies's jaunty accordion and Luna Michelle's calm harmonies added sweetening to the acerbic lyrics.  Luna Michelle's sinewy basslines grounded the music while Bruce Maurey's drums blasted it into the stratosphere.

New York-based musician Emily Wells played next.  It took barely one song for her bluesy purr-and-moan and her intricate tapestry of beats (both canned and fresh) and hooks (conjured up via synth, melodica, violin and looped vocals) to get the crowd up and dancing.  Wells responded in kind by keeping them that way right up to her set-capping art-rock reconstruction of "Fever."  Worth the price of admission and then some.  And then some more on top of that.

 

Dark Dark Dark closed out the night at the VaC.  Part of me wants to say that this Minneapolis group combined the glum atmospherics of Desertshore with the gleaming tunecraft of Chelsea Girl, but comparisons with Nico don't quite fit.  Rather than a hopeless stare into the abyss, their jazzy mixture of solemn keyboard, tidy trumpet, soothing accordion and fluid drumming felt more like a warm blanket on a solitary winter night.  When they put a bit more oomph into the music, it was like walking arm in arm with your girlfriend/boyfriend on an autumn afternoon.  Whether dropping standard show patter ("What's up, Boise?") in a guileless monotone or recounting how the band discovered a bunch of deer skeletons along the Salmon River (her main memory of Boise, she said), leader Nona Marie Invie's awkward stage presence proved endearing almost in spite of itself.  The crowd didn't really dance, but a handful of folks swayed appreciatively.

A prudent man would've gone straight home after the VaC show so he'd get enough sleep to function properly at work the next morning.  I, on the other hand, am not one to let concerns over my financial, physical or mental well-being get in the way of seeing a great band.  So, I headed over to the Red Room and arrived just in time to catch the entirety of the Soft White Sixties' set.  The San Francisco group looked just a little tired--this was the last gig of a two-week cross-country tour--but sounded in fine form nonetheless.  In fact, they fell into such a strong, seemingly effortless groove that I was willing to overlook their shout-out to the Giants for winning the World Series (I'm a lifelong Dodgers fan).  Happily, over fifty people got to hear and dance to Josh Cook and Aaron Eisenberg's fiery guitars, Ryan Noble's liquid bass, Joey Bustos's bedrock drumming and Octavio Genera's soaring, soulful vocals.

Four for four.  Come to think of it, that kinda makes 'em like the Giants, doesn't it?  Crap.

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

Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars, Hectic Hobo, Insomniac Folklore and Fleet Street Klezmer Band @ the Red Room (8/25/12)

I caught Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars' excellent set at the Mountain Music Sleepover on the 19th, but I didn't write about it because I didn't see enough of the other acts to do justice to the show as a whole.  This show attracted my attention, therefore, because it gave me the chance to make up at least partially for that failing.  It helped too, of course, that it featured three acts who were unknown to me.

A little over twenty people had braved the sickeningly smoky air and made it down to the Red Room by 8:45, and that number at least doubled as the night progressed.  That made me glad: the acts this night certainly deserved a good audience.

Local group Fleet Street Klezmer Band kicked off the night.  Although Gogol Bordello obviously sprang to mind, their Jewish/Gypsy/Russian folk tunes and jaunty tempos also reminded me a little of the Pogues in spirit.  Of course, a big difference was that you could understand what leader Shlomo Kostenko said when he sang in English.  The lyrics were definitely worth hearing too: my favorite song, "Dance of the Unemployed," was as detailed and bitter as you'd hope.  ("Has nothing to do with anything today," Kostenko said.  "At all.")  Even when I didn't understand the words, the hearty, communal spirit of this group's music struck right to the heart of what I love most about folk and punk.  Extra kudos for the rockin' clarinet solos.

Up next was Insomniac Folklore.  "We come from places like Portland, Oregon and St. Louis, Missouri," leader Tyler Hentschel announced, "but mostly we come from a station wagon."  Tom Waits may have set the template for their stomped-out beats, bluesy tunes, twisted lyrics and carny shtick, but this group's brains, chutzpah and good cheer put them on the right side of the line between influence and imitation.  Hentschel's low, tongue-in-cheek vocals and winningly cartoonish stage persona found solid support in Amanda Curry's deadpan bass and the sweet backup vocals of Adrienne Curry and Wallace, "the world's only singing sheep!"  The crowd held up their lighters during "Bodies and Arson!" and roared with laughter at the children's singalong, "Listen To Your Parents But Don't Trust the Government."  Ultimate message: "L'Chaim to life."

After Insomniac Folklore came the Salt Lake City group Hectic Hobo.  Their groove felt just a little stiff compared to the two preceding acts, but their swinging backbeat and gypsy folk/sea chanty tunes were greatly enjoyable nonetheless.  Hasen Pfeffer's throaty groan and rasp served as yet another object lesson in how Tom Waits has corrupted our nation's youth.  "The Ranger" let rip some stinging electric guitar solos, but Nicholas Newberry's accordion dominated the music.

Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars provided a fine ending to the night.  Their set at the Mountain Music Sleepover planted the suspicion in my mind, and this set left no doubt: they have become one of the absolute best groups in town.  Their indelible songs and riffs, sweet and sour vocals, thoughtful basslines, gorgeous accordion and turbo-charged drums all blended together and moved as one.  It's just a pity that the crowd had thinned out pretty severely before they played.

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

Murder By Death and Ha Ha Tonka @ Neurolux; Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars and Duckmandu @ the Red Room (8/14/12)

I'd planned to check out The Last Bison and A Seasonal Disguise at Neurolux this past Monday, but I got too caught up working on my backlog of posts and--gasp!--a genuine, bona fide paying freelance writing gig!  I'm both scared and excited about that last one.  Just gotta jump off the cliff and see if I can fly, I guess.

Anyway, I'd managed to put that work aside long enough to head down to this most recent Radio Boise Tuesday.  I'd seen Murder By Death once before a few years back at the Knitting Factory.  I forget whom they opened for, but I remembered being quite impressed with this Indiana-based band.  This show gave me the opportunity to put my memories to the test.

As I'd anticipated, there was a solid turnout for this show.  I counted over forty people when I got down to Neurolux, and at least another twenty people showed up after only twenty minutes had passed.  I chatted with a friend and a very charming MFA graduate at the bar until the show began.  I really hope I didn't bore them too much talking about this blog and poetry and such.

First up at Neurolux was the Missouri band Ha Ha Tonka.  The touches of blues, country and folk in their music basically added extra flavoring to what amounted to some darn good indie-rock.  Brian Roberts's friendly drawl found support in Lennon Bones's unflashily proficient drumming, Lucas Long's throbbing basslines and Brett Anderson's piercing guitar and rockin' electric mandolin.  Their groove sounded pretty uptight compared to that of, say, Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit, but in indie-rock, a certain uptightness tends to go with the territory.

Murder By Death played next.  As I listened to them, it occurred to me that a few bands I've heard recently go for a similar kind of genre mash-up (blues plus country plus rockabilly plus funk plus folk plus who knows what else) that this group does.  This prompted the question: how exactly does Murder By Death do it better than most of these others?  Part of it may have had to do with Adam Turla's stolid baritone purr, which doesn't sound quite like any other voice I've heard.  More than likely, part of it had to do with Sarah Balliet's cello, which serves as the emotional and spiritual center of the group as surely as Clarence Clemons's sax did for the E Street Band.  In the end, however, it may have just come down to better songwriting: stronger hooks, stronger tunes, definitely stronger lyrics (a highlight of their set was a new song about going to a wake for someone you hate and having such a good time with his friends that you wonder if maybe you're the bigger asshole).  Of course, Scott Brackett's thoughtful accordion/trumpet/keyboard contributions, Matt Armstrong's juggernaut-like basslines and Dagan Thogerson's swinging, muscular drumming didn't hurt either.

After Murder By Death finished, I headed over to the Red Room, hoping to catch at least a little of their Atypical Tuesday show.  I was in luck: I got there in time to catch the excellent set by local group Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars.  They may have decided to let go of electric guitarist Shane Brown, but Storie Grubb's deft work with his amplified acoustic and distortion pedal filled in that sonic gap.  Luna Michelle's bass playing sounded more confident than ever, and the high-octane drumming gave the music some extra punch.  And best of all, I could actually hear the accordion (sounded lovely)!

Duckmandu a.k.a. California musician Aaron Seeman closed out the night.  His gleeful solo accordion covers of "Thus Spoke Zarathustra," "Anarchy in the UK," "Sweet Georgia Brown," David Bowie, the Dead Kennedys, Tom Lehrer, Black Flag, Waylon Jennings, Mozart and a couple of polska (old Swedish folk) tunes brought a big ol' grin to my face.  He regretfully informed the crowd that, although he typically burns his duck hat at the end of his set-capping "Highway to Hell" cover, he wouldn't this night due to too much flammable-looking stuff around the stage.  He did, however, pull out a duck hand puppet to quack out "Old Macdonald" and "London Bridge is Falling Down."  Good absurd fun--exactly what you'd expect of Evil Wine.

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

Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars, New York Rifles and CAMP @ the Red Room (7/18/12)

This show excited me because it heralded the return of Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars, a local group that I've always liked but never had the chance to write about (until this show, they hadn't played live since Treefort).  Of course, it didn't hurt that one of Twin Falls' finest, CAMP, would be playing a set also.

Storie Grubb has quite a healthy fanbase around Boise, so I'd anticipated a substantial turnout.  No such luck: I don't think that the audience count rose above fifteen, and that number includes me, a friend whom I'd dragged along and the bar staff.  So it goes, I guess.  There'll be more Storie Grubb gigs soon (hopefully, anyway).

CAMP started off the night.  They played with just the three members shown above, but they didn't need anything more to deliver a good performance.  The basslines sounded as fluid and driving as ever, the drumming sounded as dynamic as ever, and the psychedelic guitar sounded as mercurial as ever.  Listening to them this night, I reflected that it almost doesn't seem right to brand this group's music shoegaze: it's so energetic and outgoing that it seems to throw its eyes everywhere.

After CAMP came the Portland-based trio New York Rifles.  I felt sorriest for this group about the show's low attendance: their performance deserved a crowd at least three or four times bigger.  This band's music was as wiry as their lead singer's frame.  Nate James's clipped drumming, Jamie Gould's big, tuneful basslines and Scott Young's slashing riffs, piercing solos and high, sly singing served up unfaltering, poppy punk tunes (or punky pop tunes, whichever you prefer).  Hopefully, these guys'll come back around sometime soon and play to a larger audience.

Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars closed out the night.  Their time away seems to have done them a world of good: this may well have been the strongest and most assured set that I've seen them play so far.  Their bass player, Luna Michelle, told me that they won't wear costumes onstage anymore.  It shouldn't make much difference; their music is all that they need.  Storie Grubb's irresistible melodies, sweet harmonies, steady beat, clean guitars and fancifully sardonic lyrics don't remind me of anything so much as the Doug Yule-era Velvet Underground (though their drummer rocks so hard that he's closer to DJ Bonebrake or Keith Moon than to Maureen Tucker).  Their speeded-up/slowed-down versions of songs that I've heard several times before sounded so right-on-the-money that I seemed to be hearing them for the first time.  It's good to have them back.

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