Looking back, I feel a little bad about seeing this show. The show was fine in itself (sorry for the spoiler), but I found out afterwards that there was another one this same night at the Shredder featuring three bands I hadn't seen before. They included one from New York and another from the U.K. Oh well, nothing I can do about it now. Happily, I've got an upcoming show there marked on the calendar (haven't been out there in a while). Anyway, I won't complain much about seeing Stargaze Unlimited or Red Hands Black Feet again.
I counted about forty people when I arrived at Neurolux. The audience would thin out some by the time that Luna Moth played, unfortunately, but at least the ones who stayed paid attention to the music.
Stargaze Unlimited opened the show. Richard Metzger couldn't make the gig due to work (Kurtis Beckwith told me this later), so they played with a substitute drummer. The man seemed to have a little trouble keeping up, but expecting him to slip right into the regulars' tight groove probably would've been too much to ask. All things considered, he did okay. In any case, Travis Gamble's basslines marched stoically onward while Kurtis Beckwith's guitar hissed and snarled.
Red Hands Black Feet played next. They started off strong by playing the first new song that I think I've heard since I started coming to their gigs (though admittedly, I've seen so many of them now that it's kinda hard to remember). Anyway, the new song met the melodious, intricate, powerful standard set by their more familiar material and topped them for density. They kept the momentum going by ripping through their older stuff like Steve McQueen tearing through the streets of Frisco in his Mustang.
Luna Moth from Oklahoma closed out the night. Singer Joey Paz told the crowd at one point that they actually had a full band back home. That surprised me and a couple of my friends: their mix of ringing guitar, nimble drums, haunting whistles and eerie, quavery vocals sounded pretty much complete unto itself. The lyrics poured so quickly out of Paz that it was a little hard to suss them, but what I caught sounded interesting. Also, the quietly lovely, Nick Drake-ish melodies gave the folks who stuck around a nice way to cool down after Red Hands Black Feet.
One of my friends remarked that this music suited a modest crowd like this. He had a point: this stuff benefitted from the breathing room. Judging from this group's recordings, though, it'd be nice if more people showed up when/if the complete lineup rolls through town.
You can find info on these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online. Special thanks to Eric Gilbert and Radio Boise.
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