Wild Belle, Saint Rich and Hey V Kay @ Neurolux (9/19/13)

Some of my co-workers at the Record Exchange turned me on to Wild Belle (for a while, it made the regular rotation of CD's played over the store's stereo).  I liked what I heard enough to put this show on the calendar.  The chance to see Hey V Kay again was a nice little bonus (well, not so little, actually--I've put Gut Wrenching on the stereo a few times, and the listens re-convinced me of its excellence).

I counted about thirty-five people when I got to Neurolux.  When Wild Belle played, I counted about eighty.  And actually, the crowd might have been closer to ninety or ninety-five.  A very respectable turnout.

Hey V Kay opened the show.  A few songs into the set, a friend who'd never seen Karen Havey before asked me why she isn't huge in the music scene right now.  I didn't have a good answer.  "Middle-Class Sweetheart" and "Call It" (the song she debuted at the Crux show last June) sounded as tuneful and hook-laden as I remembered, and Havey's gorgeous vocals did well both by them and by her older songs.  Not only did my friend get to hear Havey's "Wicked Game" cover, she got to hear her "Toxic" cover too.  I guess I know what to get my friend for Christmas now...

Saint Rich, a five-man band from New Jersey, played next.  I came up with two different ways of describing this group's mix of ringing guitars, slinky rhythms and nasally, deadpan vocals.  The first is a sweeter, friendlier Strokes.  The second is a less interesting Soft White Sixties.  Which one you prefer will probably depend on your affection for 60's hard rock (and possibly for Delicate Steve, two of whose members are in this group).

Wild Belle closed out the show.  Whenever one of my co-workers plays something... not quite to my taste, shall we say, I just try to remember the good stuff that they've introduced me to.  Like this, for instance.  This Chicago group's blend of skanking reggae grooves and sunny, soothing pop fit together like rum and Coke.  Natalie Bergman's honeyed, lightly smoked vocals topped it all off.  The dance floor was packed and bubbling for the entire set.

You can find info on these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Neurolux and the Record Exchange.

Album Preview: Modern Kin (2013)

Over the past few months, I've received numerous emails from PR firms inviting me to check out the music of various artists.  I'll give some of the tracks a listen--I try to stay on the lookout for cool new stuff--but since they're not really connected to Idaho, I haven't shared them here (though I was very tempted to share a video by this one French disco group).

Anyway, an exception to the above came my way just yesterday.  I received an email not from a PR firm but from Kris Doty (right), whom some readers will remember from her years in the Boise music scene (she came back in March and played a good set at Treefort).  She's living in Portland now, and she currently has a band with guitarist/lead singer Drew Grow (left) and drummer Jeremiah Hayden (center) called Modern Kin.

Modern Kin has been getting some good press lately.  "Abandon," a track from their upcoming debut album, indicates why:


Modern Kin's eponymous debut will be released by Hayden's Amigo/Amiga label on October 22.  It was produced by rock goddess Janet Weiss (Quasi, Sleater-Kinney).  You can check out a preview for the album below (it was directed by Weiss):

You can find Modern Kin on Facebook and pre-order Modern Kin now on Bandcamp.

Charles Bradley & His Extraordinaires and Aaradhna @ the VaC (8/29/13)

As I've written elsewhere on this blog, I LOVE me some old-school soul/R&B/funk.  Stax, Motown, Aretha Franklin, James Brown, Al Green, Curtis Mayfield (with or without the Impressions)--I could go on all day.  This show caught my attention, then, because I'd heard talk of Charles Bradley being one of the best modern keepers of the old-school flame.  Admittedly, I did have some reservations after hearing his latest album Victim of Love, but they weren't enough to dissuade me from checking this out.

There were about 150 people at the VaC when I arrived.  I have no idea how many were there when Charles Bradley performed.  One thing's for sure: I'm definitely not the only one who digs the old-school stuff.

New Zealand singer Aaradhna opened the show.  This lady had me right when she sang the line "I don't wanna take that sh*t for granted" in her first song.  And with her other songs about getting bullied by the cool kids when you're younger and turning Miss Lovely's pretty smile into a frown, she kept me.  She had a whole lotta muscle in her sultry voice, but she was smart enough not to flex it too hard.  The medley that combined Willie Nelson/Patsy Cline's "Crazy" and Sam Cooke's "Nothing Can Ever Change This Love" was just gravy.  As for the song that borrowed the chorus from "Pressure Drop," hey, I love Toots and the Maytals too.

Charles Bradley played next.  This set was an object lesson in how live shows can sometimes top recordings.  While Bradley's massive vocals sounded a little one-dimensional on Victim of Love, they were just the thing to cut through the roars of applause here.  His high rasp and self-abasing scream bore the clear influence of James Brown, but he topped the Godfather of Soul for warmth and friendliness.  The same went for Bradley's whole stage act; while the set featured three costume changes, you never sensed any of Brown's vanity or control-freak egomania.  Instead, I actually believed the man when he said he loved the audience "to the bone" and "from the soul."  Meanwhile, the band couldn't match Maceo, Bootsy, Clyde et al., but 1) that's asking way too damn much and 2) they clearly learned their lessons well from Stax and Motown.  I may not have gotten a hug from the "Screaming Eagle of Soul," but this was still one of the best shows I've seen this year.

Sidenote: I feel like I should mention that I listened to Charles Bradley's 2011 album No Time for Dreaming afterwards and liked it a lot.  It features quite a few lyrics about being black and poor in America.  Now that's worth screaming about.

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

Bad Weather California, Sauna, Skating Polly and Deaf Kid @ The Crux (8/18/13)

Bad Weather California was one of my favorite acts at this year's Treefort.  Sauna was one of my favorites from last year's.  So it didn't take me long to decide to check this show out.

I counted eighteen people when I got down to the Crux.  When Bad Weather California played, I counted twenty-seven.  Not exactly a Treefort-size audience, but what're you gonna do?

Sidenote: this may be the most awesome show poster that I've ever seen.

Deaf Kid opened the show.  They changed their name to Black Lodge a while ago, but apparently, they changed it back.  I don't know why, but whatever--they sounded damn good here.  Jacob Milburn's voice sounded deeper and fuller, and Theo Maughan's sprightly drumming gave the music some extra muscle.  Even got a pretty solid groove going on the last song.

Skating Polly played next.  If you're not even eighteen and you can get Exene Cervenka to produce one of your albums, chances are you're gonna have something going on.  Which this very young duo did.  Their grungy drones, steady drums, screeching vocals and smart arrangements made me think a little of early Sleater-Kinney.  Their confident stage presence suggests that they may be in this for the long haul.  Time will tell, I guess.

Sauna followed Skating Polly.  It took them a couple of songs to get warmed up, but when they did, their serene vocals, playful tunes, propulsive grooves and fierce guitar solos sounded even better than I remembered.  The girls from Skating Polly went nuts (jumping, headbanging), and much of the crowd followed suit.  Easily one of the most fun surf/garage bands I've seen in the past couple of years (and I've seen a LOT of them).

Bad Weather California closed out the night.  At one point, it occurred to me that James Plane Wreck could've made a good opener for these guys.  Both groups seem to have a certain transcendentally trashy spirit, one which embraces the slackers, losers and working stiffs (i.e. most of us).  In any case, this Colorado band's anthemic tunes, smart lyrics and fiery guitars sounded just as fantastic here as they did back in March.  Would that every surf-garage-punk-etc. band could be this shrewd, this compassionate.

It's just a shame that this'll be their last tour.  But hey, you never know--Sauna said that they were going to break up last year, and look at them.

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

Jennie Wayne and Lindsay Clark @ the Flying M Concert-Garage (8/15/13)

I was a wreck this day.  I'd stayed up all night writing a handful of articles for the Boise Weekly and only gotten three hours of sleep.  When the evening came, I didn't feel like doing anything other than sit on my couch and stare vacantly into space.

Then I saw a Facebook event page for this show.  Then I listened to Jennie Wayne's latest album.  Then I said to myself, "Y'know, I could really use some more of this right now."  So I dragged my carcass into my car and made the drive out to Nampa.

There were eleven people inside the concert-garage when I arrived.  The audience peaked at seventeen.  A modest crowd, but at least the people were into the music; they alternated between respectful silence and warm applause throughout the show.

Jennie Wayne played first.  This Portland musician's clean, breathy vocals and soothing melodies helped level me off from the iced coffee I'd gulped down.  Her lyrics were consistently thoughtful and well-turned, but frankly, I could've listened to her coo the Flying M's menu.  During her Prince cover, I could've closed my eyes and sworn I was listening to Alison Krauss.  Sweet, soulful, gorgeous.

Fellow Portland musician Lindsay Clark played next.  Her subdued, fluttery vocals were more austere than Wayne's.  Similarly, her lyrics were edgier and more ominous.  Nothing wrong with that, though; her cryptic, fascinating songs and her spare banjo picking made me think a little of Five Leaves Left or Pink Moon.  Also, I appreciated the determination of her closing song: "You say the grass is greener, but I know the grass is one shade. / And I will see it through, and I will see it through."

You can find info on Jennie Wayne and Lindsay Clark on Facebook and elsewhere online.

Red Hands Black Feet and Iconoplasty @ the Crux; Icarus the Owl and a.k.a. Belle @ the Red Room (8/11/13)

It's no secret that I'm a big fan of Red Hands Black Feet.  Indeed, I've probably written more about them than any other band.  So of course I was gonna see them at the kickoff show for their and Iconoplasty's West Coast Tour.

Sidenote: They've been on tour for a couple of weeks now.  It's gone pretty well overall, but it's also had some hardships and difficulties.

I counted twenty-three people when I got to the Crux.  When Red Hands Black Feet played, I counted about seventy.  A very respectable crowd.

Iconoplasty opened the show.  Josh Gross certainly sounded raring to go: his guitar playing was sharp, his layering of riffs, licks and beats was precise and confident and his transitions between passages were smoother than ever.  It might have been nice if he'd stretched the individual passages out a little more, but then again, the quick change-ups were a good way of keeping people on their toes.  Figuratively, anyway--no one danced, but most everyone watched the stage.

This set featured a booming cameo from Jessica Johnson and a brief section where Gross invited people to say what they thought of the music.  Three people did so.

Jake Myers: "I like it!"

Dillon from San Francisco: "Although I like your music, it makes me feel like a I'm in a Beverly Hills nightmare."

Eric Gilbert: "More rock, less talk."

After Iconoplasty finished, I headed over to the Red Room.  Heather Roberts's Ten Gallon Cat had set up an intriguing bill featuring a.k.a. Belle and Portland rock band Icarus the Owl (she's actually been setting up quite a few interesting shows lately).  I can't lie, though: part of what attracted me to this show was the chance to see Roberts and the Fiddle Junkies' Austin Clark as Bette and Yvette, a.k.a. Belle's two "dancers."

a.k.a. Belle played first and sounded as strong and swinging as ever.  Chris Galli and Louis McFarland's smooth, assured grooves carried along Sam Merrick's screeching guitar and Catherine Merrick's warm, lovely voice.  Once again, it occurred to me that the touch of jazz in this group's sound helps make it a bit sexier than your average Americana act's.  This set featured a brooding new number entitled "Crooked Path" and a clever little quotation from "Like a Hurricane."

And yes, this was about as awesome as I'd hoped.

Icarus the Owl played soon after a.k.a. Belle.  The slight emo whine to Joey Rubenstein's vocals was counterbalanced by the band's rippling guitar licks and angular, disorienting tempos.  Conversely, the emo elements of the music helped keep the math-rock stuff from feeling too arch.  Sharp as a razor and chops to spare but not so's they'd brag about it.  Good stuff.

I would've liked to have stayed for Icarus the Owl's whole set, but I wanted to get back to the Crux in time for Red Hands Black Feet's set.  Walking over, I could hear them from a block away.

Red Hands Black Feet sounded more than ready to hit the road as well.  The material from their upcoming EP sounded as roiling, majestic and achingly beautiful as their older stuff.  The crowd did the expected whooping and nodding to the beat.  During one lyrical guitar intro, Jessica Johnson jumped offstage to hug people in the audience.  Then she got back behind her drum kit and bashed away.

You can find info on these acts on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Heather Roberts and Ten Gallon Cat.  And in case you didn't click on the link earlier, go here to learn how you can help Red Hands Black Feet get out of the red.

Yellow Red Sparks, Ronnie and the Reagans and Starlings Murmurations @ Gramma's House (8/9/13)

I'd heard of Gramma's House but never actually seen a show there.  This show caught my attention for that reason.  It also caught my attention because it was a collaboration between Evil Wine/Wes Malvini and Heather Roberts, who's started promoting shows under the name Ten Gallon Cat.

I counted thirty people when I got to Gramma's House.  The place turned out to be across the street from my old high school.  Walked by it for half my life.  Who knew?  Anyway, Wes Malvini put the final headcount at around forty.  Not bad at all.

Starlings Murmurations opened the show.  Kirsty Scott played without her iPad recordings this night, which she said she found a bit strange (so did playing without a monitor, she added).  She did fine, though, since she still had one of the most gorgeous voices in the Boise music scene.  Stretched out a bit more with it too.  The darkness added an appropriately intimate feel as well (though Malvini did set up a light behind Scott midway through her set).

Ronnie and the Reagans played next.  This Idaho Falls group impressed me when I caught them at the Crux back in April.  With their funky beats, fluid basslines and lyrical guitar solos, their expanded lineup impressed me just as much.  It's just too bad I probably won't see it again; Franklin Tillo said that this was the band's second-to-last show as a quintet.

The things you get to see at house shows.

Last up was Los Angeles band Yellow Red Sparks.  It's always nice when a folky band doesn't lay on the cornpone too thick.  Indeed, the lovelorn lyrics, winsome melodies and smooth, swinging beat won me over so thoroughly that when the group invited the audience to sing along to an excerpt from Elvis Presley's "Can't Help Falling in Love," I did (also, I just love that song).  Most of the crowd didn't, but they did give the band some good whoops and cheers.  The handful of numbers that Yellow Red Sparks played unplugged and without mics added to the set's intimacy.

You can find info on these acts, Evil Wine and Ten Gallon Cat on Facebook and elsewhere online.