Teens, Gayze, Art Fad and Deaf Kid @ the Red Room (12/29/12)

This show excited me because it gave me an opportunity to check out Gayze, a new project by local band Teens and Texas group the Rich Hands.  It also gave me the chance to see Teens again and (I hoped) get a better sense of their music.  Maybe their equipment wouldn't keep screwing up this time around, I thought.  At least the elevated stage would probably keep the crowd from crashing into them.

I counted thirty people when I arrived at the Red Room.  At least another twenty would brave the snow by the time that the show began.  Hipsters showing some heart--gives a cranky, snotty bastard hope for the future.

Deaf Kid kicked off the night.  Maybe it was just a matter of different sound systems, but this group sounded much edgier here than they did at the Flying M a few weeks back.  Their sunny guitars had a nice extra bit of distortion to them, and Matt Stone's drums sounded in especially strong form.  Their gliding groove got the crowd nodding to the beat and standing on chairs to get a look at the stage.

Art Fad played next.  Their grungy riffs, pummeling drums and snarled vocals incited the audience to do some friendly moshing.  Theo Maughan's raw bellow sounded good and fierce, and Jacob Milburn drummed with an admirable amount of energy for a guy who'd already performed three sets this night (he played a house show before coming here).  While it might have been nice if I could have parsed some more of their lyrics, their increasingly muscular sound signified maturity and articulation enough for now.

Up next was Gayze, whose lineup this night consisted entirely of Idaho dudes (including Jacob Milburn on drums).  Their blend of surf, garage and shoegaze wasn't spectacular, but it certainly wasn't bad.  The audience didn't seem to have any complaints either: they grooved out plenty to the dreamy tunes, intertwining guitars, pounding drums and weird-ass synthesizer noises.  My only real complaint is that they could've turned down the smoke machine a little: it grew so thick that I started getting a headache and couldn't see the projections on the screen behind them.

I will admit, though, that it did look pretty cool.

Teens closed out the night with a set that was blessedly free of their Manor show's technical difficulties.  With all the kinks worked out and all systems go, did this garage-rock group live up to the hype surrounding them?  Frankly, no--I can think of at least fifteen local bands right now who sing better, write better and play better.  More than many of the mid-to-late-60's emulators/imitators that I've heard this year, however, this band seems to honestly partake of the slovenly, freewheeling, joyous spirit that we've come to associate with Haight-Ashbury, Woodstock, etc (this wasn't just a matter of the psychedelic lines, shapes and colors flashing on the screen behind them either).  Ultimately, that spirit put their caterwauling vocals, twangy guitars and tidy little tunes across.  These guys came off as so open and friendly onstage that I couldn't begrudge them their ecstatic reception from the crowd (jumping, shouting, screaming).  They ain't no Soft White Sixties (or Bare Bones or Marshall Poole), but I'll take them over the Shivas.

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

Atomic Mama, Christopher Smith and Art Fad @ Neurolux (12/14/12)

I had actually planned to pass on this show originally.  Nothing at all against any of the acts--I'd just seen all of them several times in some capacity or another and needed to do a lot of work over the weekend.  Then I heard that this might be Atomic Mama's last gig for quite a while (no drama--Jake Warnock may have been recruited to play bass on tour for a very popular band from Boise).  That was enough to get me down to Neurolux.

I was somewhat alarmed when I only found about twenty-five people there.  This was at 8 pm, one hour after the designated doors time.  Happily, a pretty substantial crowd had built by the time that Atomic Mama played.

Art Fad opened the show.  This duo has apparently made quite a bit of progress since I last saw them.  While their tunes sounded as catchy as ever, their riffing sounded even sharper and more rousing, their drumming hit quicker and harder and their groove was much more limber.  Theo Maughan and Jacob Milburn's snarled vocals seemed to have ripened nicely, and I could even understand some of the lyrics.  Best of all, antimagic's montages of flashing colors, twisting shapes, weirdo film footage and 80's computer text created a new context for Art Fad's manic inchoateness.  Rather than the mere scribblings of punk-besotted ADHD cases, it came across here as the struggle to make sense of the postmodern age's information overload.  Might be a bit too much to read into it, but a darn impressive set nonetheless.

Next up was a solo set by First Borns' Christopher Smith.  His lean synthesizer instrumentals had a definite 80's robotic flavor to them.  He added just enough complexity to his steady beats and elegant hooks to make them hypnotic instead of boring.  This set had a few technical difficulties--the volume fluctuated and cut out altogether at various points--but not enough to detract from the music.  It helped, of course, that the music had antimagic's glowing squares, twirling spirals and oddball film clips to lean on.  I got a big laugh out of one montage that incorporated footage from the now-legendary bad movie Manos: The Hands of Fate.

He takes care of the place while the master is away.

Atomic Mama closed out the night.  While I must admit that I missed their drummer, these local favorites' mega-catchy tunes held up just fine thanks to their bubbling polyrhythms, dreamy synth blare, droll basslines and piercing guitar solos.  antimagic's clever, psychedelic, overpowering montages helped compensate for the sonic gap as well.  The crowd certainly didn't seem to mind the reduced lineup: they pressed in close, danced and screamed throughout the entire set.  If this group does go on hiatus, it'll definitely be missed.

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

Teton Avenue, Art Fad, A Sense of Porpoise and A Seasonal Disguise @ the Red Room (5/31/12)

This has been a busy week for me.  I've gone to a show every night starting on Monday (including Jonathan Richman at Neurolux on Wednesday--I'll get my post on that one out soon), and the next three days each have shows that I'm eager to check out.  There's a lot more cool stuff coming up in the next few weeks too.  Geez.  I may need to find a job just to take a break.

Financial constraints persuaded me to pass on seeing Austin Lucas play the Shredder this night.  That doesn't bother me too much; I imagine that he'll come back around sometime soon (he's played here at least once before).  Besides, I was happy for the chance to check out Art Fad and A Seasonal Disguise again.

First up this night at the Red Room was Teton Avenue, a very young (16-17 years old, Wes Malvini told me) five-man band from Caldwell.  These guys looked pretty nervous and sounded pretty ragged, but there was still more than enough in their music to make me feel bad about how little I've done with my life so far: arrangements with some savvy, lyrics with some bite, guitars with some sting, basslines with some flourish, drumming with some dynamite.  Very promising.

Art Fad took the stage after Teton Avenue.  After seeing them a second time, I'm fairly confident that nearly everything that Jacob Milburn and Theo Maughan say through their faux-Cockney sneers is straight-up gibberish.  I did catch one coherent lyric, though: "You're a c*** and I f***ing hate you."  They didn't mean that, and they didn't mean it when they said that their first song was about getting high on bath salts and eating someone's face off.  All the same, these utterances helped me figure out what this Caldwell group's sound and fury truly signify: they're a distillation of the transgressive thrill that suburban adolescents get from listening to (and, sometimes, making) punk rock, no less and no more.  Don't get me wrong--punk sympathizer (and former suburban adolescent) that I am, I still like Art Fad just fine.  I'll like them more, however, when/if they actually find something to say.

After Art Fad came A Sense of Porpoise, a group from Boulder, CO whose folky take on punk (or vice versa) seemed to take a page from the Mekons' playbook.  Jaunty tunes, jokey lyrics, shrewdly guileless singing, buzzsaw guitar, non-bluegrass banjo, Maureen Tucker-ish drumming.  Cute stuff, but not so much so to give me a tummyache.  I gave them bonus points for being the only band that I can recall to pass through these parts with a theremin player.

A Seasonal Disguise closed out the night.  They didn't come off nearly as cute or awkward as I remembered them being at Treefort.  In fact, between their rock-steady rhythm section, their fetching melodies and harmonies, their clarinet and keyboard hooks and their lyrical guitar solos, I'm now tempted to think of them as After the Gold Rush to Range Life's Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere.  The rapport between the five band-members seemed to have doubled in strength and assurance, and their instrumental passages called to mind Television's eccentric, romantic wonder.

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

Art Fad, Finn Riggins and JEFF the Brotherhood @ Neurolux (5/23/12)

"Have you seen Art Fad?"  I can't tell you how many times I've been asked that question over the past month.  More often than not, the question came from folks whose musical taste I respect.  So, when I got a chance to go see them, how could I turn it down?

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised when the crowd for a live show starts out kinda thin and then builds as it gets closer to the time when the headliners take the stage.  I still am, though.  Why would people not want to see opening acts?  If you're paying good money for a show, why would you not see the whole thing?  It makes me think of back in the day when folks would just walk into a theater during the middle of a film.  Of course, I imagine that some folks have to do stuff that I should (in theory) do too (i.e. work and earn money).

Anyway, enough ranting.  On with the show!

First up on Wednesday night was Art Fad.  Now I know why everybody's so crazy about this guitar-and-drums duo from Caldwell.  With their maniacal drumming, tsunami-like guitar riffs, poppy tunes and arty noise, they sounded like a hallucination of a Ramones or Agent Orange concert.  While they played fast enough to satisfy the most ADD-addled hardcore fan, they managed to work enough of a groove into their music to render it danceable.  My only quibbles are that I could've used a lyric sheet and that I don't know how long they can keep up music this rarefied.  In the end, however, I found Art Fad's music so pleasurable and galvanizing that it overwhelmed such petty concerns.

After Art Fad came Finn Riggins, who got off to a bit of a rough start but hit their stride quickly and delivered a decent set.  Lisa Simpson's voice and guitar were in good form, Cameron Bouiss snuck in some nice little fills and Eric Gilbert's keyboards made the music go vroom.  I wonder if I'll ever get tired of hearing "Arrow" or "Benchwarmers."  Guess I'll find out.

Headliners JEFF the Brotherhood came next.  Jake and Jamin Orrall may hail from Nashville, but their fusion of the Ramones and Black Sabbath would've sounded right at home in grunge-era Seattle: catchy, sing-along melodies; droning, low-tuned, buzzsaw guitar; ironically detached singing; slyly simple lyrics; muscular drumming.  As befits good Southerners, however, their groove was much more solid and much steadier-rolling than, say, the Melvins'.  They switched from sludgy stomp to full-throttle blitzkrieg without preening or breaking a sweat, and they kept the solos short and sweet.  I'll bet that Kurt Cobain woulda loved JEFF the Brotherhood.  Joey Ramone too.  Hell, maybe even Johnny Ramone.

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