Marshall Poole, Pacific Nomadic and Mickey the Jump @ the Crux; the Mad Caps, First Borns and Skittish Itz @ Tom Grainey's (9/8/12)

This was a busy night.  I'd already planned to check out a show set up by Orriginal Promotions at the Crux when Keesha Renna told me about a promising bill set up by Vagabond Promotions at Tom Grainey's.  Honestly, I'm glad I started my new job: it may give me a chance to take a break.

There were over forty people at the Crux when I got down there, and some more trickled in as the show progressed.  Joseph Morgan of Pacific Nomadic mentioned that he saw a whole lotta friends and family in the crowd, but I doubt that that accounted for everyone.

First up was Marshall Poole, a power trio based in Caldwell, Nampa and Boise (according to their Facebook page).  I've said this before, and I said it to a friend who watched this set with me: groups like this really make me feel like I haven't done enough with my life.  The members of this band are only 18 or 19, I learned, but they've already got it all together.  Between Rider Soran's clean, firm voice and Melanie Radford's tough, sultry one, they boast two solid singers.  Between Soran's astonishing guitar solos, Radford's humongous, funky basslines, Mike Hoobery's fluid but foundational drums and the swaggering groove that held them all together, they didn't remind me of anything so much as Jimi Hendrix's Band of Gypsys.  Between their spit-shined tunes and hooks galore, they sounded as if they could take the classic rock canon and at least wrestle it to a tie.  My friend wondered where they could go in five years' time.  So do I.

After Marshall Poole came Pacific Nomadic, a band from Boise originally but now based in Seattle.  Their sparkling guitar, streamlined bass, pensive melodies and pinched, nasal, moaned/whined vocals called to mind swoony popsters like the Cure and Coldplay.  They didn't too mopey, though, thanks in good part to Nate Ihli's drumming.

Nampa band Mickey the Jump closed out the show at the Crux.  Hearing their striking tunes, intriguing lyrics, protean guitar and bouncing, stomping, driving drums again confirmed my good opinion of this band.  Unfortunately, it also confirmed my sneaking suspicion that they have a weak link in Nate Berrian's lead vocals.  Berrian isn't the worst singer that I've heard in this town (no, I won't tell you who that is here), but as it stands right now, he just doesn't have the pipes to put the songs over like he should.  I should hasten to add, however, that I could tell that the spirit and the brains were willing even if the flesh was weak.  There's gotta be a vocal couch out there who can help the man.

I headed straight over to Tom Grainey's after the Crux show ended.  I got there too late to see Dear Rabbit's return to Boise, but I did get to catch the set by the Mad Caps, a duo originally from Las Vegas but currently based in Seattle.  I couldn't hear much of this group's lyrics, but I didn't really concern myself with that, what with Ted Rader's bluesy, elemental riffs and Jon Real's clipped, steady, pounding drumwork.  Rader told the crowd at one point that some state troopers gave them a hard time on their way to this gig.  I hope that doesn't turn them off Idaho.  Stripped-down, gloriously primal rock.

Local group First Borns played next.  Admittedly, I wasn't sure how well these moody dudes would go over with the crowd at Grainey's.  Happily, they sounded if fine form this night, with Alex Hecht's guitar cutting through the noise in the bar like a chainsaw.  Their strong beat and tunes got the people moving.

Local punk band Skittish Itz followed First Borns.  "SKiTTiSH iTZ [sic] have been playing shows since November 2006 and don't intend to quit," it says on their Facebook profile.  I certainly hope not.  Their catchy tunes and lead singer Rekn Russ's clear, charming wail combined with metallic dual guitars and a hard-charging rhythm section to close out the night's music in solid fashion.  It makes me happy that, even with all the shows that I've seen this year, there are still cool local bands out there to discover.

You can find info on these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Keesha Renna and Vagabond Promotions.  Oh, and I've got a shiny dime right here for anyone who can tell me where Marshall Poole took their name from.

Fable Cry, The Green Zoo and Zvoov @ the Shredder (7/27/12)

This was a pretty good day for me.  I discovered that HCTD has been nominated for Best Local Blogger in Boise Weekly's Best of 2012.  I don't have a prayer of winning, but I'm truly honored to be nominated (and amazed, frankly--I've only been doing this for a few months).  Also, this day marked the 35th anniversary of the Record Exchange, a place that's very dear to my heart--I bought my copies of London Calling, Blood on the Tracks and Plastic Ono Band there--and a Boise cultural landmark.

Before I headed over to The Shredder to check out the show set up by Vagabond Promotions, I stopped by the Record Exchange and looked around for a few minutes.  I wound up buying myself a humdinger of an early birthday present: a used copy of a great 4-CD Otis Redding anthology.  It was a steal at $20, although for some reason, it didn't include disc three (it's ok, though--I went back and found it in the new arrivals used section).

Attendance was low, to put it mildly, for The Shredder's show.  I don't think that there were more than four or five people there besides me, Keesha Renna, the Shredder's staff and the musicians.  Admittedly, there wasn't much publicity for this: Vagabond Promotions' Facebook profile had an event page set up, but I didn't see any fliers for it or a listing on the Shredder's July calendar (though I did see one on their Reverb Nation page).  Of course, it probably didn't help that at least two of the originally scheduled acts had to cancel (including the group that I was most eager to see, The Finer Points of Sadism).  In spite of all this, I thought that this show turned out rather well.

Tennessee-based gypsy-punk duo Fable Cry started off the night.  These two were straight-up fun from their jaunty tempos and tunes to their proudly cartoonish singing, their playfully surreal banter and their tales of zombies, pirates and demented coyotes.  Brother Zach manically strummed his guitar and wore bells on his ankles to further accenuate the beat as he stomped it out.  Sister Kirstie bashed away on the drums and made her violin weep.  They would've made a helluva double bill with Dear Rabbit.

After Fable Cry came The Green Zoo.  All of my previous judgments on this Caldwell group, both positive and negative, still apply.  I will add, though, that I had a good laugh over their bassist's unintelligible comments and their guitar player's translations en espanol.  Not only that, I even heard some lyrics that I liked this time around.

Brooklyn-based math-rock trio Zvoov closed out the show.  I imagine that Television might've sounded a little like this group if they'd decided to go jazz and metal simultaneously.  Eric Hielscher's dynamite guitar riffs, Arthur Meacham's liquid basslines and John Swank's ferocious drumming powered through disorienting time signatures and changes.  Somehow, they managed to combine the mellow, contemplative feel of Adventure with the otherworldly, transcendent power of Marquee Moon.  Mercurial, hypnotic, hard-rocking.  Great stuff.

After Zvoov wrapped up, I made my way down to Tom Grainey's in time to catch a little bit of a.k.a. Belle's set (sorry about the picture quality; I dropped my digital camera off at my car and had to resort to using my phone again).  I stayed just long enough to hear them play "The Sweetest Sin" and a new number with the greatest title that I've heard in many a moon, "Jesus Christ, Goddamn You For Killing My Dog."  If all goes well, I'll get the chance to see a.k.a. Belle again in August.  Fingers crossed.

You can find info on all of these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Keesha Renna and Vagabond Promotions, who can be contacted at 1 (208) 283-0259 and at Whatvagabond@hotmail.com.  Special thanks also to Justin Cantrell and The Shredder for letting me take pictures with my digital camera.  Oh, and should you feel inclined to vote for me in Boise Weekly's Best of 2012, you can go here.

Tristan Andreas & Grant Olsen, Johnny Butler and Point Reyes @ Tom Grainey's (7/23/12)

Keesha Renna's Vagabond Promotions set up this avant-garde-ish show at Tom Grainey's, so it caught my attention pretty quickly.  And after listening to a couple of Point Reyes's songs on Bandcamp, I grew intrigued enough to mark it on my calendar.

There weren't many people at Grainey's when I got there, but the place got a surprising influx of people as the night wore on.  They didn't come for the music, but it made me happy to observe that everyone there was at least respectful of this night's various acts (and plenty were more than that).

First up were a pair of local musicians, Tristan Andreas (the gentleman standing and playing the monochord) and Grant Olsen (the gentleman sitting and playing the synthesizer).  Their spare yet tuneful and multi-textured instrumental music made me think of the B-sides of the great 70's David Bowie-Brian Eno collaborations (Low, Heroes), only more interesting.  I thought at first that this act might've been better suited for a place like the VAC, but I noted with pleasure that almost everyone by the bar paid very close attention.

Local musician Johnny Butler played after Tristan Andreas and Grant Olsen.  His astonishingly dexterous and inventive guitar playing would've made this show worthwhile all by itself.  The only sour notes of his set came in the rare moments when he opened his mouth.  The problem had less to do with his breathy, high-pitched singing than with his undistinguished, lovey-dovey lyrics.  Still, his ability to play his guitar as a stringed instrument and a percussion instrument simultaneously more than compensated.  Maybe listening to some Nick Drake would help Butler tone up his words a bit.

New York-based, experimental folk-pop quintet Point Reyes closed out the night.  I'm still struggling to think of some precedent for their playful, jittery, quizzical sound.  John Zorn?  Frank Zappa?  The African music that seems to be a hot trend among indie groups nowadays?  All of the above?  The answer may lie outside my musical knowledge at this time.  Their studiedly amateurish singing reminded me a little of something from K Records, but they arranged their ringing guitar, warm cello, cool xylophone and percolating drums with too much conscious craft to come across as your average ineptitude fetishist.  Not only that, the tidy chaos and quiet desperation of their lyrics could've come right out of a New Yorker or Harper's short story.  I started off unsure about Point Reyes but found that they grew on me as the set progressed (it helped a lot that they came off as much warmer and funnier than your average New Yorker or Harper's short story).  I probably wouldn't listen to their music on a regular basis, but I wouldn't mind hearing it again.

You can look up info on these musicians on Facebook and elsewhere online.  For any folks interested in booking shows around Boise, you can contact Vagabond Promotions by calling 1 (208) 283-0259 or emailing Whatvagabond@hotmail.com.

James Plane Wreck and Death Ray @ Tom Grainey's (7/9/12)

Part of me considered passing on this show.  I'd seen six shows the previous week, and I have something scheduled for just about every other night this month (I'm even marking stuff down for September right now).  In the end, however, my desire to support the good people at ORRiginal Promotions, who booked this show, and James Plane Wreck, whose Atypical Tuesday performance impressed me greatly, won out.

As it turned out, this show needed whatever support it could get.  Monday nights are typically slow for any bar, and many of the folks who did come down to Tom Grainey's chose to hang out on the patio.  So it goes.  To their credit, the two bands who played this night didn't seem to let the small audience adversely affect their performances.

James Plane Wreck went first and more than confirmed my initial good impression of them.  Between their confident mash-up of genres (country, folk-rock, metal, punk, pop, hard rock), their solid tunes, their sharp arrangements and their amiable, ragged-but-right rowdiness, I'm tempted to call them the band that Parade of Bad Guys wants to be.  That's kinda harsh, though, so I'll just say that they made me think of what the New York Dolls might sound like if they went alt-country.  Agreeably rough singing, terse and twangy guitar riffs, unflashy basslines, dynamic drumming.  I'll look forward to seeing this group again.  And again.

After James Plane Wreck came Oakland-based pop-punk band Death Ray.  This duo boasted a strong tune sense, good guitar riffs and rhythm tracks, mega-catchy synth hooks, a very robust sense of humor and a willingness to go to extreme lengths to entertain the audience.  Examples of the latter two: playing original songs about Die Hard (yes, the chorus includes the line you're hoping for), why you should never date a five-foot-tall girl and the guy who played "the fat ginger kid" in The Sandlot; dropping some wonderfully un-PC banter; and the lead singer downing some white glue during one song and then stripping down to his briefs and gyrating like crazy during their set-capping cover of the J. Geils Band's "Centerfold."

This is what you miss when you stay at home on a Monday night in Boise.

You can find info on James Plane Wreck and Death Ray on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Also, for any touring bands interested in booking shows in Boise, you can look up ORRiginal Promotions on Facebook and contact them at info@ORRiginalpromotions.com.

Naomi Psalm and the Blue Cinema, Tacos!, Junior Rocket Scientist, An Airbag Saved My Life and The Violet Lights @ Tom Grainey's (6/24/12)

This post is something of a landmark: it's my 50th in the three-month history of this blog.  That's far more than I'd initially planned on writing when I started back in March (within this timeframe, anyway).  I've written this quite a few times, but it bears repeating: thank you so much to everyone out there who's reading HCTD.  Thank you as well to all of the bands and musicians that I've seen so far.  Even if I didn't like your music, I applaud your efforts to create something and recognize the guts that it takes to get up on a stage for anyone to see and hear.  "Great or small, you furnish your parts towards the soul."

This show would've attracted my interest from its size alone.  Six bands in one night: three on the main stage, three down in the Basement.  Not only that, among these six bands was The Violet Lights, a Los Angeles-based garage/new wave duo who played the Red Room this past winter.  I saw them, liked their music and have been keeping tabs on them since then.  Also, I recently had the chance to meet Travis and Jenn of ORRiginal Promotions, who set this show up.  They struck me as good people and passionate about the local music scene, so I wanted to give them a little support.

Contrary to what some of my photos may suggest, a substantial group of people came down to Tom Grainey's this night (if you sell Rainier for 50 cents a can, they will come).  However, most of them opted to hang out on the patio.  I can't blame them for that: it was pretty warm inside and lovely outside.  Hopefully, those folks got to overhear some of the music.

Starting off the night's music was Naomi Psalm and the Blue Cinema, a local singer/songwriter and her backing band.  Andrew Crisp of the Boise Weekly likened Naomi Psalm to Sarah Mclachlan, and that possible comparison occurred to me too (Psalm lists her as an influence on her Facebook page as well).  However, her thoughtful, sometimes playful lyrics and well-groomed folk-pop melodies reminded me more of Jonatha Brooke (if you don't know her, check her out; done some pretty good stuff).  Her mild, pleasant, acoustic guitar-centered music would sound right at home on an adult contemporary station between Natalie Merchant (another influence her FB page cites) and KT Tunstall, but she had one heck of a secret weapon in Rob Hill's fluid, funky bass.  Between songs, Psalm engaged in some friendly stage banter and cracked a charmingly bad joke.  A good start to the evening.

After Naomi Psalm finished her set, I headed downstairs and caught most of the set by Tacos!, a stoner-metal duo from Seattle (that's the location listed on their Bandcamp page, anyway).  Donovan Stewart's screamo vocals and Sabbath-esque riffs and Lupe Flores's thrashing, stomping drums were respectably brutal but somehow not as intimidating as other examples of their kind that I've heard.  Maybe that's why I liked them.

I headed back upstairs after Tacos! wrapped up and watched local indie-rock group Junior Rocket Scientist, who were much more on their game than they were when I saw them at the Red Room last month.  The dominating presence of Brian Anglin's Peter Hook-y bass in the mix underlined its function as the glue that holds together the harsh, Pixies-ish guitars, catchy tunes, synth hooks and propulsive drumming.  I couldn't really hear the lyrics, but the music sounded so good that that didn't bother me too much.

After Junior Rocket Scientist, I went back downstairs to check out the Oklahoma City-based rock group An Airbag Saved My Life.  Take your band name from a Radiohead song and you'll instantly raise a red flag with me.  But hey, what the heck, I'll try anything once.  And in the case of this group, I'll be more than happy to try them two or three more times.  Between their fog machine, their hallucinatory recordings and guitar sounds and their ultra-syncopated, jaw-droppingly powerful drumming, this group would have made the show worthwhile all by themselves.  Standing inside the small concert space in Grainey's Basement, AASML's massive sound enveloped me and the other ten or so people there to hear it.  Dissonant but tuneful, moody but hard-rocking.  Stunning.

The Violet Lights were up next on the main stage.  Their set had a couple of missteps and technical difficulties, and their recorded bass, guitar and drum tracks sounded too quiet.  But those aren't reasons to shoot a group down, especially one that makes music so tough, clever, catchy and danceable.  Their songs had at least two or three hooks apiece and hid just the right amount of dirt under their well-manicured nails.  Joel Nass worked the aching yowl in his voice for all that it was worth and carved out some sharp riffs on his electric and acoustic guitars.  Meanwhile, Amber Garvey complemented her partner effectively with her low, breathy singing, cool demeanor and concise keyboard parts.  I hope that The Violet Lights come around again sometime.  And get the chance to turn up the volume a little.

One more word about those technical difficulties.  A few songs into the set, Joel Nass's mic went out.  The sound man fixed it quickly, though, and the incident did create this little Kodak moment:

Now if only my phone's camera didn't suck.

Unfortunately, I missed the sixth band of the night, whose set had already wrapped by the time that The Violet Lights finished.  Apologies to Icarus the Owl.

You can find info about all of these groups on Facebook or elsewhere online.  Also, for any touring bands out there, you can look up ORRiginal Promotions on FB and contact them at info@ORRiginalpromotions.com.

Wellspring & Honor, Hopeless Jack & the Handsome Devil and Parade of Bad Guys @ Grainey's Basement (5/3/12)

Funny how things can change over time.  I used to be kinda "meh" about Tom Grainey's--decent enough place, I thought, but not one of my go-to bars.  Starting with the Tango Alpha Tango/ Violet Isle show back in March, though, I've found that this bar has been putting on some outstanding live shows.  It probably helps that they've been working lately with my friend Keesha Renna of Vagabond Promotions.  Keesha ran the booking for the Red Room all last year, and she put together consistently superior shows there.

Keesha tipped me off via Facebook about this show at Grainey's Basement.  I grew particularly eager to see it when I saw that Portland, OR punk-blues duo Hopeless Jack and the Handsome Devil would be playing.  These guys blew the roof off the Red Room last year, but you wouldn't have known it from the stone-faced reception that they got from the crowd that night.  I figured I'd make sure that they got support from at least two people in the crowd this night.

Wellspring & Honor, a power trio based here in Boise, kicked off the show.  I found their casual, self-deprecating air quite agreeable when they bantered with the crowd, much less so when guitarist Marco Mancuso's high, breathy moan wandered off pitch or when their groove came a little unglued here and there.  Maybe driving up from a gig in San Francisco tired them out.  Maybe all the familiar faces in the crowd made them loosen up a bit too much (the bass player quipped that everyone in the audience was their personal friend).  Maybe they just had a couple too many at the bar before showtime.  Still, W&H played well enough to hint at just how good they can be when they're firing on all cylinders.  Their catchy melodies and pensive lyrics came accessorized with throbbing bass, droning riffs and ultra-syncopated drumming that, at times, evoked that Zen master of great rock drummers, Charlie Watts.

Next up were Hopeless Jack and the Handsome Devil, whose tossed-off instrumental jams packed more concentrated wallop than Wellspring and Honor's entire set did.  And they played those during their soundcheck.  When they really got underway, things got even wilder.


These guys combined the brute force of Led Zeppelin with the heedless, careening velocity of Hound Dog Taylor (the blues' answer to the Ramones).  Hopeless Jack's soulful, tough-as-nails baritone growl would have given Mike Ness larynx envy, and he matched it with his loud, dirty, heavy slide guitar (which he played so hard that, as he said when he stopped to retune it, he "knocked it down six keys").  Smilin' Pete backed his partner up with joyously rough backup vocals and fierce machine-gun drumming.  Like a good Walter Hill movie, they took the raw meat of the macho hoochie-coochie-man archetype, stuck its tounge firmly in its cheek, slapped it on the grill and cranked the heat all the way up.  It was heartening to see that this night's audience was much more receptive to their 120-proof take on the blues.

Local power trio Parade of Bad Guys respectably handled the unenviable task of following Hopeless Jack and the Handsome Devil.  The most telling moment in their night-closing set was their cover of Bob Dylan's "The Man In Me," which I'll bet that they took from The Big Lebowski rather than New Morning.  Lebowski sums up these guys pretty well: solidly crafted, more than slightly zonked out, not too serious or deep, damn good fun.  Their set consisted of friendly, goofy, drunken banter punctuated by sturdy, punky blues/rockabilly-based songs.  Lead singer Ben's plain, amiable groan (which had a hint of Kurt Cobain's raspy whine) and sharp, Billy Zoom-esque guitar enlivened original material like "Whiskey Drunk" and a Pac Man homage as well as their covers of Dylan and of John Denver's "Take Me Home, Country Roads."

You can find more info about these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.  And for any touring bands/musicians out there: if you'd like to book some shows in Boise, you can contact Vagabond Promotions via Facebook, email Whatvagabond@hotmail.com or call 1 (208) 283-0259.

Manimalhouse @ Grainey's Basement (4/27/12)

This post is gonna be a little short because it's only about one (really awesome) band.  Some more substantial posts will be coming soon!

It's hard out here for an unemployed, music-crazy blogger.  Lately, I've been trying to drum up support for a worthy local band, working on a couple of different posts and, oh yeah, looking for a job that'll help finance my show-going and writing and that won't make me want to smash my head against a wall.  Last night, I decided to take a break and just wander around downtown for a bit.  I was not prepared in any way for what I found when I stepped inside Tom Grainey's and went down into the basement bar.

It can no longer be ignored: I am calling for a full-scale investigation into the astonishing rise in funkiness in the Pacific Northwest.  The eight-person band Manimalhouse said that they were from Portland, OR, but they sounded like they could've hailed from Memphis or Augusta.  They served up some slick, tight, hot buttered soul and funk with a dash of disco and a side order of cool jazz.  Petite, sexy Reyna Mallare belted out the songs in a gritty, sultry voice that evoked both Etta James and Donna Summer.  Nattily dressed Brody Lowe backed her up on vocals and moved to the beat with some sly, restrained, James Brown-derived footwork.  Bassist Jeff Tummond, saxophonist Reid Neuman, trombonist Jon Ramm, guitarist Dan Lee and keyboardist Dave Dernovsek each got off at least one mind-blowing solo apiece.  Last but most definitely not least, drummer Mark Blanding provided the backbone for the group, pounding out the rhythms with spot-on precision and unflagging energy.

The concrete bunker that serves as the concert space for Grainey's Basement was simultaneously too small for Manimalhouse's massive sound and just the right size: stepping inside, it felt like I'd wandered into the Chicago/ Southern juke joint of my dreams.  The band blasted through one song after the next with unmistakable enthusiasm, and the steadily growing crowd responded in kind by dancing their asses off.  The setlist was a combination of playful, rock-solid original material and inspired covers--En Vogue/ Salt N Pepa's "Whatta Man" and TLC's "Waterfalls" sounded right at home next to "I Can't Stand the Rain."

You can find more info about Manimalhouse on Facebook and elsewhere online.  And for those of you in the Boise area, I should mention that they're playing again at Grainey's Basement tonight.  Trust me: you won't regret it if you go see them.

Like A Rocket and Eternal Fair @ Tom Grainey's (4/19/12)

Unemployment doesn't really bother me too much (aside from that whole lack of income thing), but it does wreak havoc on one's procrastination.  I mean, how can you put something off when there's nothing else to do?

Such was my dilemma as I sat up at my place last night.  I asked myself, "Is there nothing to distract me from writing this review of RJ Smith's The One: The Life and Music of James Brown?"  Luckily, I checked Facebook for the 20th time in the past two hours and found my deliverance: a free show at Tom Grainey's starting at 10 pm.


Playing on the main stage of Grainey's was Like A Rocket, a Boise-based roots-rock power trio.  I like to think that James Brown wouldn't be too bothered by my setting aside a book about him to see this band.  Considering Max Klymenko's rapid-fire, funky drumming and Z.V. House's fluid, propulsive bass, it was almost like I'd never left it.  Meanwhile, Speedy Gray could've almost been Drive-By Trucker Mike Cooley's brother with his slim frame, shaggy black hair, pleasant sprechgesang croon and undulant, stinging guitar solos.  They played a combination of strong original material and fantastic covers (Bob Dylan's "Maggie's Farm," Wanda Jackson's "Let's Have a Party," an "I Fought the Law" that struck a nice balance between Bobby Fuller and the Clash).  I gather that Like A Rocket will be playing Thursdays at Grainey's for a while.  I may well go see them again sometime soon.

Playing downstairs in Grainey's Basement was a group at once heavier and lighter than Like A Rocket: Seattle-based power trio Eternal Fair.  While drummer Daniel Nash, bassist Chris Jones and lead singer/ guitarist Andrew Vait's tenor harmonies reminded me a little of Crosby, Stills and Nash, their roiling, muscular "neo-psychedelic" rock called to mind Seattle-born Jimi Hendrix's Band of Gypsies.  These guys have some serious chops, but they don't take themselves too seriously: in addition to playing a couple of pretty good Jeff Buckley covers and jamming out on what they said was a Stevie Wonder song ("Too High," I think), they busted out a cover of Toto's "Africa."

You can find more info about these two bands on Facebook and hear their music on there, Myspace or Bandcamp.  Oh, and I will finish my post on RJ Smith's book soon.  I promise.

Range Life, Edward Romeo and Alameda @ Tom Grainey's, 3/13/12

Geez--two really good shows in three days and the Treefort Music Fest coming up next week.  How much music can my poor ears take?

Tuesday night's show at Tom Grainey's began with a set by the solid local band Range Life.  I couldn't tell you whether or not this five-piece band (male singer/lead guitar, female singer, rhythm guitar, bass, drums) took its name from the Pavement song.  It wouldn't surprise me if they did: they do sound a little bit like Pavement.  Much more than Pavement, though, Range Life reminds me of bands like the Velvet Underground, Neil Young and Crazy Horse and Sonic Youth.  There's the flat, straight-forward rhythm section.  There are the unprojected, artfully amateurish vocals and harmonies.  There are the jangly, hypnotic guitars that occasionally cut loose into perfectly spare, harsh, melodic solos.  There are the sudden tempo shifts that keep the audience on its toes.  And most importantly, there's the bedrock of simple, catchy tunes.

Next up was Edward Romeo, a Boise musician who has clearly been listening to his early 60's Dylan.  His nimble guitar picking and strumming would impress Woody Guthrie or Skip James, his lyrics are decent and he's got a good set of pipes.  I just hope that he'll ditch the crinkled, nasally, old-timey shtick that mars his singing.  He means it to be funny, but to my ears, it comes off as condescending both to his audience and to the traditions he's drawing from.

Closing out the night was a guitar-and-cello duo from Portland, OR called Alameda.  Lead singer Sterling Myles said that they're typically a five-piece group, but from what I saw and heard, two members were all they needed.  Myles's breathy vocals and soothing melodies called to mind Nick Drake, but his urgent, intricate, rhythmic guitar playing safeguarded against anyone falling asleep.  Jessie Dettwiler's cello soared, swooped and skipped over the beat set down by Myles, and her wordless backup vocals eased the songs along.  It was really a shame that more people didn't stick around to hear this group.

You can look up all of these folks and hear samples of their music on Facebook.  Alameda also has a couple of websites: www.alamedaportland.weebly.com and www.alamedaportland.bandcamp.com.

Violet Isle and Tango Alpha Tango @ Tom Grainey's, 3/11/12

A few years ago, if you'd told me that I would actively enjoy living in Boise, I'd have called you a fool or a liar.  All through my teenage years, this town had just seemed something to get away from.  Bit by bit, though, ever since I returned from college, Boise has come to feel hipper, more vibrant, more stimulating.  It's reached the point now--or just my consciousness has reached the point, perhaps--where I can go down to a local bar on an off-night and see a fantastic show for dirt cheap if not absolutely free.

The show I saw at Tom Grainey's on Sunday, March 11, was a case in point.  Keesha Renna of Vagabond Promotions was in charge of running it and had tipped me off to it via Facebook (update: she told me later that Jennifer Orr of ORRiginal Promotions had set this up).

First on stage was Violet Isle, a five-piece Portland, OR band passing through on their way to South By Southwest. I hear elements of folk, jazz, even a bit of classical music in their precise, melodic pop-rock.  However, this isn't to say that they come off as precious or self-involved.  Sean Garcia and Kelly Gable's clean, yearning voices blend pleasantly without sounding whiny, cloying or simpering.  Jordan Clark's lead guitar spikes the mix nicely with some bright, chiming fills here and some distorted riffing and soloing there.  Most crucial is the rhythm section, with Zee Farrouge's steady bass lines and especially Nick Gable's sharp, muscular drumming pushing the songs constantly forward.  Onstage, their indie slacker attire (jeans, sneakers, sweaters, plaid shirts, snow caps) belies the tightness of their playing and arrangements.  Their stage presence reflects the skillful balance of their music: they're very good at what they do, but they won't start preening or bragging about it.

Next up was Tango Alpha Tango, who also hail from Portland and are on their way to SXSW.  This band would probably appeal to anyone who grew up listening to classic rock radio: they play loud, raucous, grungy, funky blues-based rock.  Nathan Trueb's slightly reedy vocals may be better suited for acoustic music, but his playful presence as a frontman and his forceful Hendrix/SRV-style guitar playing more than compensate for that.  Mirabai Carter-Trueb's unobtrusive bass and Aaron Trueb's soulful keyboards flesh out the group's sound, but the real powerhouse (besides N. Trueb) is drummer Tyrone Hendrix, who plays like a cross between John Bonham, Jabo Starks and Clyde Stubblefield.  Their set's momentum stumbled a bit when T. Hendrix played an overextended drum solo, but if I had his chops, I'd probably be tempted to show off a bit too.

You can find out more info on these bands and samples of their music on Facebook.  You can also go to www.violetislemusic.com and www.tangoalphatango.com (and also tangoalphatango.bandcamp.com) to purchase their music.

(PS  Sorry about the crappy live photos.  They're the best I could manage with my phone.)