The Evil Wine Carnival @ the VaC (9/29/13)

Since this is the last blog post that I have in the queue right now, I thought that this would be a good time to make a brief announcement.  As readers have undoubtedly noticed, there's been a steep decline in write-ups for HCTD.  The reason--or the main reason, rather--is simple: I've been pitching quite a few stories/reviews to the Boise Weekly, and the Weekly keeps saying yes (and tossing me more assignments on top of them).  These assignments must take priority because they require more work, they have tighter deadlines and, most important of all, they pay (well, the ones that show up in the paper do, anyway).

Now, does this mean that this blog is coming to an end?  No, but there'll be fewer posts for (knock on wood) the foreseeable future.  Also, in addition to the Weekly, three other factors are competing for my attention right now.  The first is my part-time gig at the Record Exchange.  The second is my role as contributor/copyeditor for The Exposition, a Boise-based music website.  Jenny Bowler, whose fine photographs appeared in my Treefort 2013 posts, has taken up its reins.  There's some interesting stuff in the works, so find it on Facebook and stay tuned.

The third is... Well, she's about 5'9" (correction: she's actually 5'7") with brown-blond hair, blue-green eyes, a smile like the springtime sun and a curve in her back that drives me to distraction.  She's smart, she's kind, she's tough, she's passionate and she's got good taste--likes Dorothea Lange, Rosalie Sorrels, The A-Team, old-school hip-hop and lots more.  So if, on a given Friday or Saturday night, I'm given the choice between covering a show and snuggling with her while watching Rio Bravo or Black Dynamite... Well, sorry, but you'll just have to tell me what I missed.

But with all of this said, let me be emphatic: I may not write here as often, but I will keep this blog going for as long as I can.  For one thing, it allows me to write more informally and (at my best) colorfully.  But more importantly, I know that this blog and its readers have made all of the above possible for me.  As I've written before, HCTD is easily the best thing that's happened in my life.  I love it too much to just abandon it.

This announcement has gotten much longer than I wanted, so I'll end it by thanking all of you once again for your readership and support.  It means more to me than I could ever say or write.

I've respected Evil Wine since I discovered it two years ago, and my respect has only deepened since then.  Their penchant for smart, raunchy, left-of-center fare has been an invaluable addition to the Boise scene; I've thought of them sometimes as the moon to Duck Club Presents' sun.  Also, I've been impressed by how Wes Malvini and Dustin Jones conduct themselves professionally.

I meant to write about last year's Evil Wine Carnival, but between hitting the live shows hard all summer and learning the ropes at a new job, I was good and burned out at the time (I had a small meltdown at the end of the Carnival that I still regret).  Anyway, I saw this year as a chance to make up for dropping the ball.  I was also happy for the chance to write a feature for the Weekly about Evil Wine (though I made the error of crediting Wes Malvini with starting Gramma's House.  My apologies for that).

I worked a closing shift at the Record Exchange this night, so I got down to the VaC late.  Although I missed quite a few of the musical acts and didn't get to see anybody play any of the games, between seventy and eighty people were still there when I arrived.

Highlights (of what I saw/heard, anyway):

Drinking Contest--Held during Glenn Mantang's set (agreeably trashy punk rock).  Winner Tina B. managed to down a bowl of beer before Mantang and backing band finished the song "Malt Licker."  As I recall, she was still vertical and going strong for much of the Carnival's remainder.  Girl's a viking.

Outside after his set, I overheard this quote from Glenn Mantang to his boss: "I will be there [with] eyes closed!  Cuz I don't ever call in hung over, Rich!  I call in sick!"

Scantily clad Dustin Jones and Wes Malvini--Because it just isn't an Evil Wine Carnival if these two keep their clothes on.

Carnival Games--I didn't play them, but just looking at them made me grin.  My favorite was Birth Your Savior, which involves reaching inside the Virgin Mary and trying to extract Jesus from among the other icons (Buddha, etc.).  Erin Nelson from the Rediscovered Bookshop showed me her slightly discolored hand as proof that she'd tried this one out.

This game was a very close second.

Headless Pez--When I interviewed him, Dustin Jones expressed particular excitement about this four-man Portland metal band.  Seeing them, I could understand why.  Between the dildo-pentagram backdrop, the abs drawn in Sharpie on the lead singer's belly, the bassist's ass-less chaps and song titles like "Handy Dandy Butt Candy" and "Dr. Bonerstein," this group could've sprung out of an episode of The Evil Wine Show.  Their impressive chops--squiggly guitar noise, relentless riffing, machine-gun kick drum, banshee-wail vocals--made them even funnier.

Some quotes from this set:

"This next song's about boners!  And Satan!"
"This song's called Power Death it's by Pantera f*ck you!"
"I totally forgot the words!  Hahaha!"
"Shut the f*ck up!  This part's pretty!  Shut up!"

Introducing their final number, a song about a gay skeleton: "He's scarier than a normal skeleton because he'll butt-f*ck you!"

Kitchen--Twin Falls trio.  Good stuff--strong beat, harshly catchy tunes, snarling distortion, caterwauling vocals.  Worth hearing again, I thought (though admittedly, I'd had a fair amount to drink by this point).

Matthew and Charlotte Vorhies--I didn't get to see this guy play with Storie Grubb and the Holy Wars, but he and his wife deserve a mention here because they were just too damn adorable.  I mean, c'mon, look at them.

The Voodoo Organist--Woulda been worth the price of admission by himself.  Tongue-in-cheek horror-movie melodies and lyrics (song titles: "Do the Zombie," "Vampire Empire"), charmingly sepulchral vocals, rockin' organ and theremin solos (flying hands and feet).

Andy D--"I got drunk a couple of hours ago," Andy D said at the start of his set.  "I'm gonna burn out the rest of my drunkenness onstage."  And so he did, belting and gyrating and dropping off the stage to dance with the crowd (just the guys, though--didn't want to piss off Victoria D/Anna Vision, maybe).  The crowd stayed with him, grooving out to such irresistible numbers as "New Addiction," "Angels on the Dancefloor" and "Hey Tina (Pick Up the Phone)" (possibly my new favorite).  If Evil Wine had done nothing other than bring this act to Boise, it would've justified its existence.

During this set, a dude from Headless Pez gave me a hug from behind, grabbed my crotch and handed me a sticker.  Made my night.

Tartufi--A late but welcome addition to the Carnival.  Aside from a couple of small slip-ups, this San Francisco trio sounded as roiling and tuneful as ever.  Listening to them again, I was struck by the warm, expansive spirit of this group's music.  It could've been the audience; Lynne Tartufi said at one point that they loved Boise "probably more than San Francisco, but don't tell them that."  Like I've said before, they oughtta just buy a house here.

You can find info on the various acts and Evil Wine on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Very special thanks to Wes Malvini, Dustin Jones and Evil Wine.

Slim Cessna's Auto Club, Munly and the Lupercalians and A Seasonal Disguise @ the VaC (7/26/13)

I'd heard the name Slim Cessna's Auto Club, but I hadn't thought to look into them until I received a press release about this show.  A listen to a few songs, some glowing write-ups in the Weekly and the fact that this band got Jello Biafra to sing a song about how Jesus Christ died for our sins persuaded me to put this show on the calendar.

There were already about sixty people when I got to VaC.  The official head count for the night was approximately ninety.  Not the 300 that showed up for Peter Murphy, but certainly not bad.

A Seasonal Disguise opened the show.  This performance made good and then some on the promise of the band's Red Room set back in January.  Z.V. House's unvarnished vocals sounded in fine form, and his guitar solos were as tuneful, elegant and fierce as ever.  Meanwhile, Karen Singletary's clean harmonies, Aaron Sup's rippling keyboard and Reggie Townley's roaring distortion blended and weaved with Josh Shapel's steady basslines and Jake Hite's implacable drumming.  The cool, spacey aura of the music didn't quite sound like anything I've heard by anyone else in town.

Munly and the Lupercalians played next.  I imagine that Wovenhand might have looked and sounded like this if David Eugene Edwards went out to the crossroads and sold his soul to the devil.  Munly J Munly's sepulchral croon and bluesy, hypnotic drones fused with tribal drums and atmospheric keyboards.  The band's bizarre outfits--straw/twig masks, KKK hoods and gowns (that's what they looked like, anyway)--augmented the sinister feel of the music.  Strange, powerful stuff.

Slim Cessna's Auto Club closed out the night.  Their music wasn't as creepy as Munly and the Lupercalians' but was still plenty weird.  Frantically plucked basslines, hard-charging drums and buzzing guitar decorated twangy, wailed vocals and cockeyed, religious-themed lyrics (one song celebrated hard-rocking Baptist church founder Roger Williams).  Happily, these guys rocked more than hard enough to keep from drowning in their own shtick.

The crowd worked itself into a nice frenzy during this set.  They danced, bounced, raised their hands high and shouted along.  One mustached gentleman got particularly unruly; he peeled off his shirt, writhed around on the floor, tugged people around, stole one guy's hat (the guy's friend stole it back) and formed a one-man mosh circle.  He also ran onstage and jumped around during the final number.  Slim Cessna and Munly stayed deadpan until he left.  They then gave him a golf clap, did some humorously robotic dance moves and went right back into the song.

You can find info on these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Wes Malvini and the Evil Wine Show.  If you like what you've read and would like to help keep it going, click the yellow "Give" button and donate.

Garage Voice, Wellspring and Honor and Starlings Murmurations @ Neurolux (6/30/13)

With their alt-gospel sound, Garage Voice was one of the most interesting bands that I saw last year.  When I saw that they'd be coming back, I jumped at the chance to see them again.  As an added bonus, the bill included Wellspring and Honor, a group I hadn't seen in well over a year, and Starlings Mumurations, whom I could probably stand to see a couple dozen more times.

I counted about fifteen people when I got to Neurolux.  When Garage Voice played, I counted about twenty-five.  So it goes on a Sunday.

Starlings Murmurations opened the show.  Kristy Scott seemed even more confident this time around.  She played while standing, and her singing had an extra ease, depth and nuance to it.  Her guitar playing felt stronger and steadier as well.  All of this gave her music added power; at times, she even reminded me a little of Sera Cahoone.

Wellspring and Honor played next.  This group sounded much more together than they did at Grainey's Basement fourteen months ago.  Slashing riffs met with curling basslines and rumbling drums.  They still didn't quite seem to hit at the same time at points, and Marco Montero didn't seem to have the pipes or the conditioning to belt and stretch out like he wanted.  However, that didn't detract much from the appeal of their well-crafted songs.  Put them at eighty-five or ninety percent of the way there.

Garage Voice sounded a little different than I remembered.  Not that they sounded bad--their music just seemed to have a much stronger soul/R&B feel here.  Stax and Motown devotee that I am, this didn't bother me at all.  Tommy Paginot's clean vocals and fiery guitar blended with Bruce Pearson's spooky, jolting organ and Patrick Toney's tight, swinging drum work.  I worried for a while that no one else was paying attention, but I noticed a few people going up to talk with the band afterwards.  Hopefully, there'll be more next time.

You can find info on these acts on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Wes Malvini and Evil Wine.  If you like what you've read and would like to help keep it going, click the yellow "Give" button and donate.  Even $5 would help.

Le Fleur, the Raven and the Writing Desk and Color Animal @ the Red Room (6/29/13)

Le Fleur was one of the handful of bands who made me think, "Hey, there's something going on in this here Boise music scene."  So when I learned that this would be their last show ever, I felt obliged to go and bid them farewell.  Talk about the Raven and the Writing Desk's dynamite performance at the WavePOP house gave me extra incentive to check this show out.

I counted twenty people when I got to the Red Room.  When Le Fleur took the stage, I counted around ninety (there could've been more).  A fine turnout.

Unfortunately, I worked the closing shift at a new part-time job, so I missed Storie Grubb's opening set.  Oh well.  Hopefully, I'll get to see/hear him and the Holy Wars soon--they've been working on some promising stuff lately.

Color Animal sounded murkier here than they did at the Flying M; I couldn't hear the guitars weave together quite as well.  Most likely, this was just due to the Red Room's acoustics.  Anyway, that was a pretty minor quibble since they sounded just as tuneful and rocking as they did the night before.  Hopefully, the slightly larger crowd will encourage them to come back around sometime.

The Raven and the Writing Desk played next.  One gentleman described this Denver band to me as sounding like King Crimson joining with the Dresden Dolls to cover the Murder City Devils and Black Sabbath.  That trumps pretty much anything I can come up with ("a more symphonic Tom Waits or Murder By Death" sounds awfully weak by comparison).  Eerie violin, rumbling drums, crunching guitar, pounding piano and cool xylophone swirled around Julia LiBassi's soaring, swooning moan and cabaret-tinged tunes.  Would've made a helluva double bill with Minor Birds.  They'll be back, LiBassi said.  I hope so.

Le Fleur closed out the night with possibly their best set ever (that I've seen).  Their steady, relentless rhythms and howling fog of guitars sounded good and fierce.  Meanwhile, Ivy Meissner worked some grit into her growl, snarl and wail.  The crowd bounced, swayed and cheered wildly as the band scraped their repertoire bare ("At this point, we really only have a couple left.  For reals!").  It's sad that there won't be any more of this.  Still, a very fine note to go out on.

You can find info on these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.  If you like what you've read and would like to help keep it going, click the yellow "Give" button and donate.  Even $5 would help.

Hillfolk Noir, Hymn for Her and Angie Gillis @ the VaC (6/27/13)

According to the press release that I received, Hymn for Her play a guitar made from a cigar box and a broomstick.  They also recorded an album in their 1961 Bambi Airstream trailer.  These two bits of information were enough to get me intrigued.  The reported comparisons to Captain Beefheart, Primus and X and a listen to a couple of their songs sealed the deal.

Sadly, not many others seemed to have shared my interest.  I counted four civilians when I got to the VaC.  Not even ten people showed up over the course of the night.

Angie Gillis opened the show.  She seemed more comfortable and confident here than she did at the Sapphire Room back in May.  Playing to a nearly empty room may have helped.  So could her having run a successful Kickstarter campaign to raise funds for her first EP.  In any case, Gillis's plainspoken lyrics and simple tunes sounded just as impressive.  The slight tartness of her singing suited the directness of her words; it seemed to say, "You can take me on my terms or get lost."

Hymn for Her played next.  The press release didn't mention anybody comparing this Philadelphia duo to the 13th Floor Elevators, so I'll lay claim to that one right now.  Booming, stomping drums mixed with massive, buzzing guitar riffs and alternately ominous and sweet blues/folk/country tunes.  Lucy Tight plucked all kinds of mind-bending screeks, scrapes and wakka-wakkas out of her one-string, cigar-box slide.  Her angelic croon complemented Wayne Waxing's friendly deadpan nicely.  Their godalmighty racket was at once so bizarre and so earthy that it transcended any kind of white trash shtick.  I just wish I'd had the money to buy a bottle of their banana jalapeno hot sauce.

Hillfolk Noir closed out the night.  My kingdom for a tape recorder: Travis Ward kicked things off with a hilariously profane rant about Boise people sucking for not coming to see Hymn for Her.  That set the tone for the rest of their set, with Ward's raucous vocals and greasy slide carousing around with Mike Waite's nimble bass and Alison Ward's limber washboard.  Between the riled-up performance, the oddball lyrics ("Give it up for the hobo with the magic hand"?) and the kazoo solos, I couldn't imagine how I'd ever considered this band hokey or genteel.  And on a non-musical note, I'll add that I dig Ward's scruffy new look (reminded me a little of Levon Helm).

You can find info on these acts on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Wes Malvini and the Evil Wine Show.  If you like what you've read and would like to help keep it going, click the yellow "Give" button and donate.  Even $5 would help.