Mira Loma and the Bad Vibes, AAN and RevoltRevolt @ the Red Room (7/15/12)

Between attending six shows the preceding week and spending three hours earlier in the day swimming in the Boise River with a friend, I was good and tired this past Sunday night.  Part of me would have liked nothing better than to stay home, watch the new episode of Longmire, maybe finally polish off Nicholas Nickleby and go to bed.  In spite of that, the chance to see AAN, a Portland-based rock band whose Treefort set I'd missed, motivated me to haul my frazzled carcass down to the Red Room.

I arrived in time to catch most of the opening set by Florida-based shoegaze band Mira Loma and the Bad Vibes.  Their music suited my sun-fried condition quite well: serene tunes, dreamy guitar and synth parts and warm, calm bass over thunderous drumming.  When their guitarist pushed his fragile high tenor into a raw, raspy scream, it almost sounded like Kurt Cobain wailing down from Heaven.

AAN played next.  "The band beckons a bevvy of comparisons," their Facebook page says, "but their sound cannot be pigeonholed."  A lotta bands will make some such claim, but there's a certain creedence to it in this case.  Angular, syncopated drumming and steady basslines pushed forward disorienting guitar riffs, eerie tunes and harmonies and weird keyboard noises.  Somehow, all the elements fit together and even rocked.  Fascinating stuff.

Local indie-rock quartet RevoltRevolt closed out the night.  Their droning guitar riffs and basslines, propulsive drumming and simple, straightforward tunes showed the clear influence of 80's-90's alt-rock (Pixies, Built to Spill, etc.).  Their set went down pretty well overall, although the songs started to blur together as it wore on and the pitchless singing grew severely tiresome.

You can look up info on all these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.

Customary, The Green Zoo, Skyward Down and The Getaway Car @ the Knitting Factory (7/13/12)

Never let it be said that I won't give something a chance.  Originally, I had planned to check out Jason Anderson and The Very Most at Neurolux this night.  However, when I got a ticket to a show at the Knitting Factory featuring three groups I'd never heard of before, I said, "Hey, why not?"

The audience for this show was more than respectable for a bill of mainly local groups.  The crowd seemed comprised primarily of younger folks (late teens, twenties) with a few parents sprinkled around.

Portland-based hip-hop group Customary opened the show.  That name tempts the snarky bastard in me to say that they just wrote their own review, but that wouldn't be entirely fair.  The MC had some good rhymes, a decent flow and a welcome sense of humor while the DJ provided some pleasant, smooth R&B beats.  Not the Dedicated Servers, but not bad.

The Caldwell-based group The Green Zoo played next.  The larger venue space gave their intense guitar noise, lithely powerful drumming and booming vocals plenty of room to breathe, which helped make this performance more enjoyable than the gig that I caught at Grainey's Basement.  Some of the lyrics still make me cringe, and the air of self-importance that infects the music makes me want to firebomb a liberal arts college.  That said, I can't deny that this group's material has considerable melodic appeal or that they put on a good live show.

After The Green Zoo came the Meridian, ID-based alt/pop-rock group Skyward Down.  At one point in the set, lead singer Kerrie Meacham told the crowd that they hoped to get one of their songs onto the soundtrack for the film adaptation of Stephanie Meyer's The Host.  That right there should tell you whether or not this group's moody, swoony music is for you.  That said, while my taste in sci-fi may tend toward William Gibson, I found enough in their well-crafted songs to sustain my interest: guitar riffs with some bite, good melodies and beat, singing with a touch of sultriness that wisely kept the American Idol histrionics to a minimum.

Local four-man band The Getaway Car closed out the night.  Their set began with a child-narrated spoken-word intro that made me want to gag, and their U2-derived arena-rock theatrics (singing with a megaphone, climbing the scaffolding around the stage, waving a huge white banner during the set's climax) called for something grander or at least riskier than the safe, vaguely religious self-help homilies of the lyrics.  Still, this band wasn't without its merits: they had a muscular rhythm section, a pleasant lead tenor and, most prominently, a sharp, chiming lead guitar.  Also, I found their evident gratitude and good cheer entirely commendable.  These guys may be too bland and polite to dislodge The Clash or Exile On Main St. from my CD player, but I'll take them over Creed in a heartbeat.

You can find info on these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Jennifer Orr and ORRiginal Promotions, who can be contacted at info@ORRiginalpromotions.com.

Milk Drive and Whiskey Shivers @ Neurolux (7/12/12)

Never let it be said that I won't give something a chance.  I had my misgivings when I looked up info on the two bands at Neurolux this night and deduced that they each played some kind of bluegrass variant/mutation.  For the most part, I'm with Tom Waits: "The only thing I hate more than bluegrass played badly is bluegrass played well."  Still, the price was right ($5), and the prospect of seeing two out-of-town bands that I'd never heard of before attracted me.

The audience started out fairly sparse, but thankfully, it built as the night wore on until there was a more than decent crowd for a Thursday night.  It probably helped that Milk Drive did a live performance on Radio Boise earlier in the day.

First up this evening was Whiskey Shivers, a four-man band from Austin, TX.  I made ready to duck all the cheap shots when "Dueling Banjos" from Deliverance played on the PA system prior to this group taking the stage.  Mercifully, except maybe for a groan-worthy dirty joke about what hand-rolled cigarettes and hippie chicks have in common (punchline: "They both make you do this." [picks at tongue with fingers]), they never came.  These guys played fast like bluegrass and fast like punk.  The slapped-out basslines gave the music a solid bottom while the impressively nimble banjo and guitar solos gave it some zing.  The bassist and guitar player's rough, friendly tenors blended nicely with the fiddle player's rich, soulful baritone.  Their original songs were smart and funny enough that you could've sworn that they wrote "Down Home Girl," not Arthur Butler and Jerry Leiber (glad I checked--at first, I thought the Rolling Stones did).

Next up was Milk Drive, whose self-proclaimed "Progressive Acoustic/Classical Jazz Grass" wasn't anywhere near as arch or pompous as part of me had feared.  Instead, they proved friendly and generous enough to do right by The Beatles' "Dear Prudence" and sharp and tasteful enough to do right by Richard Thompson's "1952 Vincent Black Lightning."  Their original songs successfully mixed together such unlikely-seeming genres as bluegrass, jazz, Western swing, latin music, rock and pop.  They swapped instruments and solos regularly without showing off too much about it.  It really does pay to take a chance sometimes.  Extra kudos to Idaho's own Noah Jeffries for his fleet-fingered guitar work.

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

Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears @ Alive After Five; The Prisms, Edmond Dantes and The Dirty Moogs @ Neurolux (7/11/12)

Normally, I try not to schedule seeing more than one show on the same day.  I just figure that it's good for my mental, physical and financial health.  This past Wednesday, however, presented two opportunities that I couldn't pass up.  Last year's Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears show at Neurolux was one of my favorites of 2011, so I got excited when I saw that they'd play Alive After Five.  Also, the good people at Go Listen Boise (who, coincidentally, organize the local openers for Alive After Five) had arranged an intriguing all-electronica show at Neurolux later this evening.

I was glad to see that so many folks braved the 100-degree weather and made it down to Grove Plaza.  I gotta admit, though, that I don't understand how people can drink beer when it's so friggin' hot outside.  It's not like they need help getting dehydrated.  Oh well, to each his/her own...

Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears took the stage around 6 PM.  Their performance would've generated plenty of sweat without the sun's help--one part Stax soul/funk, one part juke joint blues, one part punk rock.  The Honeybears' soulful horns and swaggering rhythm section got the people close to the stage moving.  Black Joe Lewis delivered the songs in a raspy shout and slashed out tornado-like riffs and blistering solos on his guitar (whose dirty yet sharp tone doesn't sound quite like any other guitar that I've heard; it's like a rusty stiletto stabbing your ear).  I'm very glad that I got to see these guys again; they might be the closest thing in spirit to Hound Dog Taylor and the Houserockers going nowadays.

Unfortunately, I needed to run a last-minute errand and couldn't stay for the entire set.  I'd have liked to have heard them play "Livin' In the Jungle"  and seen if they'd had the balls to play "Mustang Ranch" (about their misadventures in the titular Nevada brothel) or "Bitch, I Love You" with all those kids around.  At least I got to hear their funked-up cover of Robert Johnson's "Stop Breaking Down" again.

I took care of my errand and got down to Neurolux before the show started.  The crowd started out decent and grew as the night progressed.  That was good to see: Go Listen Boise has been supporting the local music scene for years, and the folks there deserve all the support that they can get.

First up at Neurolux was local trio The Prisms.  As you might expect from a group that features Spondee's Clint Vickery, their lightly funky synth pop had more hooks than Cabela's.  The multicolored light and laser show added yet another level of fun to the sharp drumming, super-catchy synth and guitar lines and endearingly mild vocals.  It took a little while to get the people dancing (with the exception of a lissome, short-haired brunette and her friend), but a playful cover of "Always Something There To Remind Me" did the trick.

Next up was duo Edmond Dantes, who may or may not have changed their name to Barbarian Princess after this show.  Whatever they choose to call themselves, they're well worth checking out.  Their spare, elegant, seductive synth-funk/soul would've sounded right at home on the soundtrack to Drive or Miami Vice.  The strong, yearning tenor of the lead singer made me think of Pickwick's Galen Disston.  They remade Elvis Presley's "Devil In Disguise" and Kim Carnes's "Bette Davis Eyes" in their own image, and their originals didn't sound any worse for it.

All-synth trio The Dirty Moogs closed out the night with a wonderfully goofy, highly danceable set.  Between their leader's mock-German accent and songs with titles like "Tight Tight Pants," "Julie's An Android" and "Nintendo" (which really did sound like it could've come from an old 8-bit Mega Man game), they sounded like Kraftwerk or Gary Numan on laughing gas.  Not coincidentally, they included a Kraftwerk cover in their set and went out on that supreme anthem of alienation, Gary Numan's "Cars."

You can find info for all of these groups except Edmond Dantes/Barbarian Princess on Facebook and elsewhere online.  For info on upcoming Alive After Five shows and more, go to www.golistenboise.org.  Give 'em a couple bucks too, if you can spare it.

Doom Ghost, The Rich Hands, The Mallard and Teens @ the Manor; Project 213 @ the Red Room (7/10/12)

This last Tuesday, an opportunity came along that relieved me of my usual dilemma over whether to check out Neurolux's Radio Boise show or the Red Room's Atypical Tuesday show: I got a chance to see up-and-coming local band Teens at the well-respected Caldwell house venue, the Manor.

This was my first show at the Manor, and unfortunately, it may prove my last.  From what I've heard, the folks there may discontinue having bands play due to multiple noise complaints.  That'd be a shame, but I'm glad I got to see at least one show.

I'll say one thing: if I do get to see some more shows there, I'll make sure to bring my earplugs every time.

Texas-based punk trio Doom Ghost got the evening off to a good start with some rough, catchy tunes.  Sturdy drumming, thick-as-mud bass, some solid guitar riffs and solos.  The smoke in the air (created by a machine) made it look like people were steaming from the energy in the room.  Pretty cool.

Next up was another group from Texas, four-man garage/punk band The Rich Hands.  They knocked the energy level up a few more notches with some strong melodies, stomping drums, buoyant bass, twangy riffs and scorching solos.  They sounded like the Beatles one minute, the Troggs the next and the Who after that.  Raucous, caterwauling, grand fun.  The playful moshing during the set generated a tremendous amount of body heat.  Thankfully, everyone seemed to have remembered to wear their deodorant.

After The Rich Hands came San Francisco-based quartet The Mallard.  At first, their jerky beat, their machine-gun drumming, their stolid basslines, their screeching, droning guitars and their moaning, echoey vocals made me think of a variety of bands--Gang of Four, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, maybe some early Joy Division, White Light/White Heat-period Velvet Underground.  After listening to one roiling, hypnotic song after the next, however, I eventually just gave up the comparison game and immersed in the sound.  This was the most intense set of the night, and believe me, that's saying something.  I hope that I get to see this group again.

The momentum of the Mallard's set stumbled at a couple of points from audience members crashing into them by accident.  The downside of playing a house show, I guess.  On the upside, it gave the band's leader, Greer McGettrick, the chance to bounce around with the crowd during the finale while singing and playing the tamborine.  The latter balanced out the former, I figured.

When Teens played their set, though, the scale tipped the other way.  In one regard, I found Teens' set refreshing: it was the closest I'd come in a good long while to witnessing an unmitigated disaster.  The band might have spent more time tuning than playing (they apologized for that), and they barely managed to get through one song at a time.  Meanwhile, the audience got so frenzied that someone apparently got injured: I saw one guy go into a nearby room and roll around on the floor while clutching the back of his head.  That cast a severe pall over the rest of the show for me.  I will say, though, that Teens did enough this night to justify some of the hype around them.  I could tell that the rapport between the four bandmates was rock-solid, and some of their songs had the simple inevitability of classics.  Hopefully, I'll get to see them sometime when everything's clicking.

After Teens wrapped, I drove back to Boise.  I got down to the Red Room in time to catch the tail end of Project 213's set.  This local one-man act's quirky, humorous, polyrhythmic music provided a nice, mellow finish to my night.  Jared Hallock crafted layers of beats and hooks through some deft vibraphone playing and some skillful looping of kazoo, recorders and finger-snaps.  The what-the? spoken word sections made me think of The Finer Points of Sadism gone easy listening, but hey, that's what the situation called for somehow.

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

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.

Toots and the Maytals and Voice of Reason @ the Knitting Factory (7/7/12)

This last Saturday night certainly did not lack live music options.  In addition to the Boise Music Festival, Neurolux, the Venue and the Red Room all scheduled promising shows.  However, with all due respect to the bands who played those shows, I had absolutely no trouble picking the one to check out.

For those of you who don't know who Toots and the Maytals are, they're almost synonymous with reggae.  I'm not exaggerating: their 1968 song, "Do the Reggay," helped give the music its name.  They recorded their early stuff with legendary producer Leslie Kong, who also produced records for Jimmy Cliff, Desmond Dekker and Bob Marley.  Two of their songs, "Sweet and Dandy" and "Pressure Drop," appeared on the soundtrack to the 1972 film The Harder They Come, which made reggae popular in the United States.  They've had their songs covered by The Clash and The Specials, among many others.  Robert Christgau once called Toots Hibbert "the nearest thing to Otis Redding left on the planet."

In short, this show was a chance to see A LIVING LEGEND.   And the tickets only cost $21 (plus the usual bullshit fees).  I'd have given a kidney to have seen this.

Most likely due to the Boise Music Festival, attendance for this show was ridiculously low.  I can't complain too much, though, considering that it gave me the chance to go down into the pit without feeling like a sardine.  Also, I took heart in the wide age range of the audience.  It made me especially glad to see folks who had brought their kids along.  That's raising 'em right, I thought.

Local reggae group Voice of Reason opened the show and delivered a solid if unspectacular set.  Of course, that was probably the idea: to acclimate the crowd and get them warmed up for the headliner.  The (white, American) frontman played some nice, restrained guitar and didn't sound too ridiculous singing in a Jamaican accent.  The bassist and drummer knew enough to always make their chops serve the groove.  The saxophone, trumpet and trombone players all got off at least one good jazzy solo apiece but didn't get too fancy or obtrusive otherwise.  Their original songs shrewdly borrowed from old-school reggae (one song lifted the intro from Culture's "See Them A Come") and then went off in their own directions.

Not long after Voice of Reason wrapped up, Toots and the Maytals took the stage.  The crowd roared as Toots Hibbert stepped out wearing shades, a black bandanna, a black leather vest, black leather pants and gleaming black dress shoes.  Nearly everyone (yes, even I) moved and sang along as Toots and his seven-person band played a selection of his classic material: "Pomp and Pride," "Time Tough," "Pressure Drop," "Bam Bam," "Funky Kingston" (possibly my favorite performance of the night--tough as hell), "Monkey Man."  Listening to these songs and watching the stage act, it occurred to me how strongly the Maytals were/are influenced by American music--blues, R&B, soul, gospel.  The lead guitarist even gave a Star Time-esque introduction ("Ladies and Gentlmen, please welcome to the stage...") before Toots came out.

Throughout the set, the rubbery bass and the rock-steady drumming served as the platform for the sweet harmonies, the alternately horn-like and Booker T.-esque keyboard parts and the fiery guitar solos.  Toots Hibbert commanded attention just by walking around the stage and letting his singing speak for itself (though he did break out some nifty footwork at the end).  His voice showed a little bit of wear and tear, as voices usually will over the course of a 50-year career in music, but it still retained plenty of grit, guts and soul.

Toots got to show just how well his voice has held up at the encore.  "STICK IT UP MISTER!" he boomed out, and the band launched into what may be my favorite Maytals song, the prison tale "54-46 That's My Number."  I liked how he chose to close out the night with a medley of this tune (which he recorded soon after his 18-month bit for marijuana possession) and a full-throttle gospel/ska rave-up.  "I was oppressed," he seemed to say, "but now I'm free and doing what I love."  I don't know if the other folks in the audience gave much thought to the possible implications of this number; they might've been too busy dancing, raising up their right hands, waving them in the air and giving it to Toots one, two, three, four, ten, eleven times (he did a double take after that last one).

"Everybody makes me feel so good," he said earlier in the show.  The feeling was mutual.

You can find info on Voice of Reason and Toots and the Maytals on Facebook and elsewhere online.