Aficionado, Mixtapes, Citizen, Hotel Chelsea and My Young Dreamer @ the Venue; New York Rifles @ the Red Room (10/12/12)

This was a tough call.  Originally, I'd planned to catch New York Rifles's return to the Red Room this night.  They'd kicked some serious ass when I saw them back in July, and this night's bill also featured equally ass-kicking local bands the Hand and the Bare Bones.  At the last minute, however, I opted to check out this show at the Venue, which featured four bands that I'd never encountered before and Hotel Chelsea, whom I hadn't seen in a while.  After all, it kinda defeats the purpose of this blog if I just write about the same bands over and over and over.

I counted a little over forty people when I got down to the Venue around 8 pm.  About half of that crowd would leave as the night went on, but those folks may have just had school or work in the morning (the audience seemed comprised largely of teenagers with a few parents tossed in).  Hopefully, it wasn't the music that drove them away.

First up was My Young Dreamer, a young pop-rock band from Meridian.  I missed a bit of their set, but what I caught sounded promising.  Their solid groove and friendly, confident stage presence put across some smart, catchy songs.  I especially appreciated "Be a Man So I Don't Have To," about a guy hoping that his girlfriend will take the axe to their dying relationship.  Frontman Jake Haley and guitarist Michael Pease's clear vocals didn't lean too hard on the stereotypical pop-punk whine.  An attempted sing-along fell flat, but they shouldn't let that discourage them.  If they can keep this up, folks should come around eventually.

After My Young Dreamer came Hotel Chelsea, who sounded in fine, thunderous form from Ryan Sampson's winning bellow and Red Kubena's searing solos to Mikey Rootnote and Chris Devino's freight-train bass and drums.  They played so well, in fact, that I couldn't help but wonder at the crowd's muted response.  What, did their Ritalin prescriptions need adjusting?  Anyway, a highlight of the set came when Kubena and Sampson briefly discussed which song to play for their closer.  Kubena would only hear of one option: the self-explanatory "Sampson is a F*ck."  No points for guessing which song they finally settled on.

Next up was Citizen, whose five members hail from Michigan and Ohio.  Their take on pop-punk had a slightly more hardcore feel that the preceding two acts' did: Eric Hamm's thick, twangy bass, Cray Wilson's pounding drums and Nick Hamm and Ryland Oehler's grinding riffs framed Mat Kerekes's rousing scream.  In spite of the extra abrasiveness, however, they still sounded plenty tuneful.  A nice combination.

Mixtapes from Cincinnati, OH played next.  With their sharp melodies, sharper lyrics, unstoppable drumming, buzzsaw riffs, locked-in rapport and playful, hyperactive stage act, this group would've made the show worthwhile all by themselves.  They bounced, twirled, spat at each other, chucked their guitars into the air (not quite intentionally).  Grand fun.

The Albany-based band Aficionado closed out the show.  You know that an emo/prog-leaning rock band is doing something right when their lineup includes a flautist and they still don't sound like a bunch of prissy crybabys (well, not too much, anyway).  Indeed, Laura Carrozza's serene flute parts and soothing vocals helped put the music over by tempering the melodrama of Nick Warchol's agonized moan.  In the man's defense, though, I should add that his thoughtful lyrics helped with that too.  Meanwhile, the elegant guitar lines, grounding bass and pulverizing drums demolished any lingering reservations that this normally emo/prog-phobic reviewer had.

After Aficionado finished, I headed over to the Red Room.  There's something to be said for shows starting late, sometimes: I got there in time to catch all of New York Rifles' set.  Their buzzing, stinging guitar, hooky basslines, quick drumming and can't-believe-I-haven't-heard-this-a-million-times-but-now-I-want-to songs sounded even better than I remembered.  It probably helped that there was a slightly larger crowd to see, hear and dance to them this time around.

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

Swansea and Little Owl @ the Flying M Coffee-Garage (10/10/12)

This show caught my interest by simple virtue of its location; I've always enjoyed catching gigs out at Nampa's Flying M, and I hadn't been out there in a while.  Of course, it helped too that the bill featured two out-of-town bands I'd never seen before.  And when I learned that one of those bands hailed from Santa Barbara, I felt almost obligated to go (I got my B.A. from UCSB).

Because its acts didn't have much drawing power around here, I'd suspected that not many people would attend this show.  Being right sucks sometimes: I saw only one civilian in the crowd when I arrived, and the audience would peak at just fourteen people.  To their credit, neither band seemed to let the meager crowd adversely affect their performance.  Of course, I'm sure that they know full well that that kind of attitude can help get you drawing power.

First up was Swansea, a quirky indie-rock trio from Portland.  I took it as a promising sign that their lead singer, Rebecca Sanborn, was wearing a Fanno Creek t-shirt.  Being right feels good sometimes: this group's hypnotic keyboard hooks, rousing harmonies and powerhouse drumming struck a nice balance between arty and poppy.  As an added bonus, their lyrics were not only intelligible but commendable.  One song called bullshit on a significant other's negative attitude while the proudly independent protagonist of their warm, redemptive closer resolved to stay by another other's side.

After Swansea came Little Owl from Santa Barbara.  My heart sank a little when I saw this group's leader, Yoni Berk, wearing a ridiculous wool reindeer sweater before the show (superficial, I know, but hey, Patton Oswalt knows what I'm talking about).  Being wrong feels good sometimes: their hooky songwriting, airy keyboards, droning riffs, stoic basslines and furious drumming transcended mere cutesiness and achieved irresistibility.  They could shift between full-throttle rave-up and swinging funk at the drop of a hat.  Their lyrics weren't too shabby either: one song drew upon Berk's experiences in the Middle East while their closer, "Track Star," featured a tidy satirical portrait of the status-fixated titular figure.   If you're gonna be a hipster, you could do a lot worse than this.

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

Hospitality, Teen and Ash Reiter @ the Red Room (10/7/12)

As some readers of this blog may recall, I saw the Brooklyn, NY group Hospitality at the Reef a few months ago with Here We Go Magic, Tartufi and Yeah Great Fine.  I had fond enough memories of their performance then to mark this show down on my calendar.  The presence on the bill of two bands I'd never seen before just sweetened the deal.

The Reef show had gone over very well, so I'd anticipated that a chunk of that crowd would come down for this one.  I'm glad I didn't bet money on that: I counted eleven or so people when I arrived, and the audience peaked at about twenty-five.  I hope that the folks who could've shown for this weren't just down at Tom Grainey's getting wasted on fifty-cent Rainier (though actually, I did hear that some good bands played there too).

First up this night was Ash Reiter, a guitar-drums duo from San Francisco.  Between Ash Reiter's clipped, elegant riffs and Will Halsey's intricate, peppery drumwork, they sounded at times like the Velvet Underground if they'd replaced Maureen Tucker with Elvin Jones.  Reiter's moody melodies, murmured vocals and glittering guitar tone made me think of driving down the PCH on moonlit nights.  I found out later that this group actually has three more members.  I hope that the full lineup passes through here in the near future.

After Ash Reiter came the NYC group Teen.  I imagine that the Go-Go's might sound a little like this quartet if they got hooked on tranquilizers and Joy Division.  High, layered vocals and tranced-out tunes blended with shimmering guitars and synthesizers, simple basslines and steady-to-dirgelike tempos.  Trippy, fascinating stuff.

Hospitality's headlining set surprised me.  Between their fluid, buoyant basslines, their hard-driving drums, their jagged guitar solos and the extra muscle in Amber Papini's girlish vocals, they kicked about three times as much ass as they did at the Reef.  Their tough groove would've got the meager crowd moving even if the Red Room's disco ball hadn't started spinning (that was a nice touch, though).  "We love the drive," Papini said at one point.  "It's so beautiful up here."  As far as I'm concerned, they can come back around anytime.

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

Email Interview: Rebeca Suarez (Palankeen/Mostecelo)

For a while now, I've been thinking about expanding the content of this blog a little.  Don't get me wrong: reviews of live shows will always be the bread and butter of HCTD.  As I hope my previous posts indicate, that's where the real action is.  With live music starting to wind down a bit, however (not to mention with my day job putting restrictions on how late I can stay out), you may see a CD review here, an interview there over the months to come.  Which brings me to this post.

I've wanted to interview Rebeca Suarez of Palankeen (formerly Mostecelo) since I saw her perform at the Red Room's Atypical Tuesday in May.  Her album The Last Possible Tense got played pretty regularly at my house and in my car during the summer.  Drawing from European and classical music as well as from folk (from what my untrained ears can tell, anyway), Suarez's mature, sardonic, occasionally heartbreaking songs stand alone in the Boise music scene.  She really doesn't sound like anyone else around this town.

I caught the tail end of Palankeen's performance at the Red Room last month.  Not only did the songs sound as good as I remembered, they took on an extra power thanks to the support of two musicians on drums and keyboard.  As Rebeca Suarez mentions below, the three of them have started work on the material for Palankeen's second album.  I can't wait to hear the results.

Anyway, without further ado, here's the interview:


It's been a while since the Red Room show back in May.  What's been going on since then?

Well... a lot, and not much.  My kids got out of school at the beginning of June, and when they're home it's hard to get anything done.  So the things I did do were more along the lines of camping, being a chaffeur back and forth to the swimming pool, and generally just trying to keep things interesting for them.  I did, however, manage to write one new song, do a little bit of recording for the next album, and I've been working on a couple of Chopin pieces on the piano... Something I've always wanted to do.

I understand that you've recently changed your stage name from Mostecelo to Palankeen.  What prompted the change?  And what does "Palankeen" mean?

Mostecelo was the name of a creature that my daughter invented when we still lived in Spain.  Everyone over there could pronounce it and I liked the sound of it.  But since we've moved back to the States, no one here seems to be able to say it or remember it, so I had been thinking of changing it for a while.  Now that I have a band and things are evolving, it seems like a good time to go ahead and make the change.  A "palanQUIN" is a carriage that is set on poles and carried by servants.  I changed the spelling, so for the purpose of the band, it has no meaning... or I suppose I could attach some meaning to it at some point.  But to be honest, I just really love the way the word sounds: it's easy to say, unpretentious, and has a great ring to it.

I've read that Stewart Copeland (or a picture of him, anyway) inspired you to become a musician.  Who else has inspired you?

Wow, that's a really long list.  I'm influenced by so many things.  Sometimes I'll hear some godawful song that my kids are listening to on the radio but there will be some tiny part in it--maybe a drum beat or a bassline--that is really cool and it will give me an idea.  A few favorites that come to mind immediately are Queen, I've been really into Henryk Gorecki lately, classical music is a very big inspiration... There have been so many artists that have inspired me over the years, but if I were to boil it down to one album that has made an impression on me more than any other, one that I go back to over and over again, it's The Juliet Letters by Elvis Costello with the Brodsky Quartet.  I'm a big fan of Elvis Costello.  Not to say that I love all of his work--in fact, there's a pretty large portion of his work that I don't like at all--but that album is a masterpiece.

Tell me a little about your musical background.  Did you go to school?  What kinds of bands have you been in?

I've always wanted to be a musician/singer for as long as I can remember.  My parents had been involved in musical theatre since I was tiny.  My stepdad is a jazz musician, his sister was my piano teacher, I started ballet at age 5 and played in band throughout school.  So the more traditional forms of music were my biggest influences growing up.  Though I've never been fond of jazz, I've always loved classical music.  Of course, once I got into junior high and high school, I branched way out.  Once I got to college, I had no interest in studying music formally.  I was turned off by the classical world.  I don't think I have what it takes to succeed in that discipline.  I majored in fine arts with an emphasis in photography, which was my focus for quite a few years.

As far as bands I've been in, there's been nothing I've honestly enjoyed until I started doing my own thing.

You mention on your Facebook page that you've done a fair amount of touring.  Where have you gone?  Any memories you're comfortable sharing?

I don't think the page says anything about touring.  I've just performed in the different places I've lived, which involves a few different continents.  When I lived in Venezuela, I sang for different Flamenco performance groups and that occasionally involved travel, but nothing major.  I think the most interesting experiences I've had have been studying music.  Especially in Ghana and Spain.  I studied Flamenco pretty intensively for two years and that was probably the most intense ego-crushing/soul-expanding study experience I've ever had.  I'm so grateful for it and my ability has grown so much because of it, but I think I'm still suffering from PTSD.  They're pretty hardcore over there.

When did you decide to go solo?  And when did you start writing your own songs?

Going solo just sort of happened.  I was a late bloomer.  I didn't decide to actively pursue performing until I was already in my early 30's.  I had only been in one band, a folk band, because I wanted to sing in Spanish, but it was a disaster and I ended up singing music I really didn't like.  Then I played with another friend but when that fell apart I finally decided to learn how to play guitar so I could accompany myself.  I built up a repertoire and started playing Latin American music around town just to make money.  Then I decided to see if I could write a song, something I had never considered before, then I wrote a few more, all terrible... After I moved to Venezuela in 2005 is when I think I started to find some kind of voice of my own and the songs started to get a little better.  That's when it occurred to me that maybe I should really pay attention to this and give it more energy... that maybe it was something I really could do.

Which of your songs do you like most (or, if you prefer, do you hate least)?

Usually the song I like the most is whatever is newest because I'm not sick of it yet.  From the last album, the song I like best is "Chickadee."  I've listened to it many, many times but I still think it's a good song.  There are several songs on the album that I'm not crazy about.  Many of them are old and don't really represent who I am anymore, but I decided to leave them as a record of who I was.  I feel like I'm just now really getting the hang of songwriting.  The process is becoming much more fluid and I'm really happy with what I've written over the last year or so.  Of the songs I haven't recorded yet, I think my favorite is "Baruch in the Northern Lights."  I based it on two characters from His Dark Materials by Phillip Pullman.

Is there anything that you're working on right now?

I'm working on all kinds of things right now that probably wouldn't interest you.  :)  But I assume you mean musically... I have started recording the new album, but I'm not very far into it yet.  I have a new song I'm working on, so of course since it's new, I'm excited about it.  But the really exciting thing is that I'm working on it with my band!  I have two new members, Julianna Thomas and Derren Crosby.

Is there anything you'd like to say to the people out there?

Well, I feel kind of presumptuous saying things to people who haven't asked me anything, so maybe I'll make a request instead... Please make an effort to get out and see things.  Make an effort to pay for things.  A friend of mine made a good observation not too long ago.  He said people complain about a $10 door cover to see a band or some other kind of performance, but they'll drop 40 bucks for booze without even thinking.  There are people out there busting their ass to enrich our lives and make this town a more interesting place.  Please think about that, and consider what life would be like without these people.  Where you choose to place your support and money has a direct effect on the quality of life of everyone in this town.

You can find info on Palankeen/Mostecelo on Facebook and elsewhere online (search under Mostecelo for now).  You can listen to and purchase The Last Possible Tense here.  All photo used with the kind permission of Rebeca Suarez.

Aimee Mann and Field Report @ the Egyptian Theatre (10/4/12)

As most people probably did, I discovered Aimee Mann via the Paul Thomas Anderson film Magnolia.  I'd liked her contributions to the soundtrack a lot, and after buying a copy of it, I'd hear about her now and again in various media and come across her albums in various stores.  Beyond that, however, I hadn't really paid her much notice.  So I can't say that this show excited me very much (not as much as, say, Dave Alvin or Toots and the Maytals did), but since I had a bit of discretionary income and heard positive things about her post-Magnolia work, I figured I'd give her a shot.

I will add, though, that I got much more excited when I listened to said post-Magnolia work and found that I liked it as much as "Wise Up" and "Save Me" if not more.  If you haven't heard her song "Freeway" yet, give it a listen.  It's a sharp, catchy little put-down of social climbers in Orange County.

I counted a little over ninety people when I arrived at the Egyptian Theatre, and I'd guess that at least another twenty or so showed up during the opening set.  That made for a better crowd than the one for Peter Murphy, but that still left plenty of space around my seat in row M.  I can't complain too much, however: the modest audience just seemed to make the night's music feel even more intimate.

The Wisconsin-based band Field Report opened.  If the Old 97's or New Transit put out a shoegaze album, it might sound something like this group's music.  With only the steady, driving drums to guide them, leader Chris Porterfield's clean, considerate tenor and yearning melodies wandered through the mist conjured up by the jangly guitars, weepy pedal steel and atmospheric keyboard.  There wasn't anything hazy about Porterfield's lyrics, however.  The tender sardonicism of his well-turned phrases made me think a little of Elvis Costello.  Or, right, Aimee Mann.

A brief intermission followed Field Report's set, and then Aimee Mann and her four-piece band took the stage.  This performance provokes one of my rare disagreements with my critical idol, Robert Christgau, who dubbed her an "ice queen" in one of his reviews.  Mann's songs, I've found, contain plenty of spunk and warmth; they just don't make a big show of it, that's all.  There certainly wasn't anything cold or aloof about Mann's stage presence: she thanked the audience several times throughout the set ("This is a small but mighty crowd."), cracked more than a few jokes and bantered playfully while working through some tuning troubles.  Her murmured vocals made it a little hard to hear the superbly crafted lyrics over the superbly performed music, but the audience seemed to know most of the words anyway.  In its own subdued way, Aimee Mann's performance proved almost as impressive as Dave Alvin's at the VaC.

You can find info on Aimee Mann and Field Report on Facebook and elsewhere online.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Lindsey O'Brien Band, New Transit and a.k.a. Belle @ Neurolux (9/28/12)

This show interested me because it marked a promising new development for Go Listen Boise.  They'd set this up in collaboration with SpokesBUZZ, a Fort Collins, CO organization that does for that town pretty much what GLB does for this one (i.e. promotes and encourages live music and events).  For details on how this show came about, you can check out this Facebook event page.  Hopefully, this relationship will lead to some more cool shows around these parts in the near future.

I counted a little over twenty people when a friend and I got down to Neurolux.  It didn't get much larger than that, but happily, everyone there seemed to get into the music.

a.k.a. Belle kicked off the show.  If this group ever puts out a live album, they oughtta leave space for some on-stage banter--it's always a hoot hearing them crack jokes and talk smack about each other (the bandmates with the same last name do most of the latter).  Not that they didn't cut it music-wise: Chris Galli's jazzy basswork made "Flyin' Song" glide, Sam Merrick's guitar injected some ragged glory into "At Least I'm Stupid" and their new drummer swung and swaggered throughout.  Meanwhile, Catherine Merrick and Kayleigh Jack sounded as warm, thoughtful and lovely as ever, and special guest Thomas Paul pitched in with some tasteful banjo and mandolin.

After a.k.a. Belle came local band New Transit.  Maybe seeing the Old 97's last month conditioned my ears, or maybe anticipation of their ambassadorial Fort Collins gig made them step up their game.  Whatever the reason, these guys sounded a lot more rockin' than I remembered from the Nicki Bluhm concert.  In fact, between Dave Manion's sharp solos, Thomas Paul's terse fills and their tough, grounding rhythm section, they kinda reminded me of the Stones at a couple points.  Sean Hatton's light, sensitive croon rested atop the train and picked off its targets as they zipped by.

The Lindsey O'Brien Band played last and made quite the first impression.  This Fort Collins group rocked hard enough to earn a Led Zeppelin cover and laid down a groove funky enough to earn an Aretha Franklin cover.  Lindsey O'Brien's high, strong voice, P-Mann's scorching guitar, Dave Clapsaddle and Chris Nicholas's soulful horns and Craig Fowler and Pete Knudson's steady-rolling bass and drums got a good chunk of the small crowd dancing.  Hopefully, those folks'll bring a few friends the next time this group rolls through.

You can find info on these groups, Go Listen Boise and SpokesBUZZ on Facebook and elsewhere online.