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.

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.

King Tuff and Deaf Kid @ the Flying M Concert-Garage (12/4/12)

The fact that I'd never encountered King Tuff before would've given me reason enough to see this show, but my main reason for going was to support the Flying M.  With a couple of exceptions, folks in Boise haven't seemed willing to make the drive out to Nampa to check stuff out.  That's a shame because, as I hope I've made clear, they've been hosting some impressive groups.

Happily, this night proved one of those exceptions.  I counted about forty people when I arrived, and a few more would show up by the time that King Tuff took the stage.  Not huge, but pretty good for a Tuesday.  Anyway, the crowd included quite a few familiar faces from Boise and Caldwell.  One gentleman I spoke with later told me that this was his first show out here (he caught a ride out with some people).  Hope some more folks follow his example.

Caldwell group Deaf Kid opened the show and delivered their best performance yet (that I've seen).  Jacob Milburn's moaning, Ian Curtis-esque vocals sounded more confident than ever, as did his and Dominic Munoz's jangling guitars, Leaf Defehr's surging basslines and Matt Stone's rock-steady drumming.  The songs in the middle of their set may have blurred together a little, but they were plenty catchy all the same.  The band's terse soloing and strong, flexible groove helped put them over too.

King Tuff played next.  For a bunch of dudes who looked like they coulda formed a Lynyrd Skynyrd cover band, this Vermont/L.A. band's poppy melodies, playfully sneered vocals and smartly stupid lyrics ("I do the fireball./ That's how I kill 'em all./ I do the creepy crawl./ Crazy legs like daddy long...") sounded pretty fey.  However, their clanging riffs, screeching solos and machine-gun drumming packed a heckuva wallop.  They reminded me of the Who one moment, Nirvana the next, JamesPlaneWreck the next.  Rowdy but cute--an interesting combo.  For their part, the crowd whooped, jostled each other, knocked a beach ball around and moved to the beat.  Good fun.

You can find info on these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Nathan Walker and the Flying M.

Deaf Kid, Clarke and the Himselfs, The Shivas and First Borns @ the Red Room (8/29/12)

The Shivas came very, very close to making my Treefort Top 10.  This Portland-based group's surf/garage-rock sound reminded me of both Dick Dale and the Velvet Underground.  It was a given, then, that I'd go see them when they returned to Boise.

I'd originally hoped to catch at least part of Go Listen Boise's promising all-local show at Neurolux this same night, but some work at home had taken up so much of my time that I decided to head straight over to the Red Room for fear of missing something.  I sat at the bar and read a little from my book.  After an hour had passed, I shook my head and reflected once again upon that cardinal rule of rock: no show ever, ever, EVER starts on time.

Attendance was surprisingly low for this evening's show.  I counted about 30 people at its peak, most of whom seemed to opt to hang out on the patio and smoke (which seemed a bit redundant, considering the godawful smoke in the air).  Hopefully, the folks who could've come here were over at the Lux watching With Child, Sun Blood Stories and the Hand.

Deaf Kid opened the show.  Despite Jacob Milburn's professed and evident drunkenness, this Caldwell group's sunny surf-punk riffs, terse solos, guiding-hand basslines and sure-and-steady drumming got the evening off to a good start.  I liked their songs so much that I hope they get titles someday.

After Deaf Kid came local act Clarke and the Himselfs.  Clarke Howell's flat, slightly nasal singing sounded rather affected but was pleasant enough.  Of course, it helped immensely that he boasted some sharp songwriting: intriguingly bizarre lyrics consistently found memorable tunes and riffs.  Equally impressive was his ability to strum his guitar and hit his snare drum at the same time.

The Shivas played next.  Jared Molyneaux and Robert Mannering's twangy drones and piercing solos, Kristin Leonard's sturdy drumming and especially Eric Shanafelt's Entwistle- or Jamerson-worthy bass work all sounded as far-out and groovy as they did at Treefort.  Seeing/hearing them live a second time, however, I noted a certain forlorn insularity to the Shivas' music (as I did when I listened to their recordings a few months back).  They sounded as if they yearned to attain the open, uncomplicated optimism of their 60's pop influences but knew instinctively that they couldn't.  Not for nothing have they been touring with Calvin Johnson lately, I suppose.  Still, the undercurrent of moody self-consciousness didn't keep the crowd from hopping and bopping.

First Borns closed out the night.  To my surprise, this local band's set had greater visceral impact on me than the Shivas' did.  It probably helped that First Borns' music was more up-front about its own moodiness.  It undoubtedly helped too that they sounded even more confident than they did when I saw them at the Crux a few weeks ago.  Chris Smith's high, tuneful basslines, Alex Hecht's sparkling, buzzing riffs and Erik Butterworth's pumped-up drumming surged forth with such concentrated force that they achieved something of the emotional honesty that the Shivas invoke but keep at arm's length.  A nice, cathartic finale.

You can find info on these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Wes Malvini, Scott Pemble, the Manor and the Red Room.

Deaf Kid, The Gunfighters, Annex Madly and Rubedo @ the Shredder (6/8/12)

A couple of brief coming attractions.

Just last week, I received a request to review the latest album by a band I wrote about not long ago.  It's a little outside the standard scope of this blog--the band's from Utah, not Idaho--but they did play here in Boise recently, and in any case, I like their music so much that I couldn't refuse.  I'll get my post on the album written and published soon.

In addition to this, I just conducted my first email interview with a local band!  You'll likewise get to read that very soon (just need to get it typed up).  It'll be the first of what I hope will be several interviews with local up-and-coming bands/musicians whose work has caught my attention.  Hope y'all enjoy them!

Keesha Renna's Vagabond Promotions set this show up, so I wanted to go down and show my support.  Also, I'd heard good things about Deaf Kid from quite a few people and wanted to see/hear for myself.  The night was not without its hitches: not many people showed up, one scheduled band never appeared, and Rubedo's van broke down a few miles out of town and kept them from reaching the Shredder until 11:30.  So that goes, I guess.  Music-wise, however, the night went over just fine.

Four-man Caldwell group Deaf Kid started off the night.  I took it as a good sign when they played parts of Joy Division's "Disorder" and Black Flag's "Nervous Breakdown" during their soundcheck.  Their set proved me right: energetic post-punk/surf-rock beat, trebly guitar lines, solid tunes and, best of all, intelligible lyrics.  My favorite of the three bands that I've seen Jacob Milburn in so far and the two bands that I've seen Dominic Munoz in.  As for drummer Matt Stone, I'd rank this group as on par with his other group, Fountains.

Six-person Boise band The Gunfighters followed Deaf Kid.  Seeing them a second time confirmed my first impression that the traces of blues and country in their music add seasoning to what is basically a good pop band: catchy tunes, swinging rhythm section, bad-ass guitars, pleasant harmonies, decent lyrics (although I'm not entirely sure what "We are the founding fathers of the watchmakers" means).  They played to the two handfuls of people at the Shredder with no discernible flagging in their good spirits.  They'd get my respect just for that.

After The Gunfighters came local electronica trio Annex Madly.  Their performance this night demolished my reservations about this group's vocals.  While I found them obtrusive the first time around, they struck me the second time around as humanizing in the manner of, say, Bernard Sumner or Gary Numan.  This left me free to ride on their waves of beats, tunes, riffs and textures.  Purely enjoyable.

Denver art-rock trio Rubedo closed out the night.  Their set didn't start until 1:30 a.m., but their tough, playfully psychedelic music definitely kept the nine people in their audience awake.  They shifted effortlessly between straight-ahead rock, stomping metal, reggae and jazz.  Alex Raymond's guitar sang and shrieked where appropriate.  Synth player Kyle Gray belted out the smart, funny lyrics in his high voice and stomped and gyrated like a wild man.  Greg Ziemba's drums kept everyone on their toes.  Everything went swimmingly until some blown fuses forced Rubedo to cut their set short.  Geez--these poor guys just couldn't get a break this night.

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