Hi Ho Silver Oh, Charlyne Yi and LeAnnimal @ Neurolux; Bugman's Burkeback Mtn. Benefit/Drunk Tank Extravaganza @ the Shredder (1/25/13)

I'm a sucker for interesting names, and Hi Ho Silver Oh and LeAnnimal interested me.  With names like those, of course, the risk is that the groups will prove so cutesy-poo that they'll make my dinner come up.  Still, I'd never seen any of the acts on this bill before, so I swung down to Neurolux.

I counted about thirty people when I arrived.  The crowd would build to about forty by the time that Hi Ho Silver Oh played.  Pretty modest for a Friday night, but there was a lot of other stuff happening around town (see below for an example).

LeAnnimal opened the show.  These days, it seems like you can't throw a rock without hitting a fluttery-voiced songstress who comes bearing some lullaby melodies and some oddball, sweet-and-sour lyrics.  Still, this local musician had enough smarts and shy, spunky charm to get over.  Maybe she could just work on not banging the mic with her guitar and ukulele.  And maybe she could go easy with the lyrics about the Lost Boys too.

Charlyne Yi played next.  It was the smirk that did it.  That little touch of self-satisfaction, of saying, "Look how cute and funny I'm being!"  That was what pushed me over the line from thinking, "Well, this is kinda funny and the drummer's good and the riffs are decent and this girl ain't no kinda singer but I'll roll with it" to thinking, "I paid money for this shit?"  I should add, though, that most everyone else in the crowd seemed to feel that they got their five dollars' worth.  A bunch of people stood close to the stage and danced and laughed and clapped along to Yi's tone-deaf, excruciating cover of "Georgia on My Mind."

Hi Ho Silver Oh closed out the night at Neurolux.  It's nice when your patience gets rewarded.  This Los Angeles group's mix of sinuous basslines, bouncy drumming, glittering dual guitars and ringing harmonies was worth much more than the $5 cover charge.  Their pop-tunes were as tasty and their beats as danceable as you could want, but they could churn the sludge and crank out the distortion too.  This was their first time in Boise, they said.  Hope it won't be their last.

After Hi Ho Silver Oh wrapped up, I headed over to the Shredder to check out the benefit for Jason Burke a.k.a. "Bug," a local musician/scene regular who injured his back in a sledding accident.  I was happy to see over forty people there showing their support.  I caught a pretty good set by local punk trio Radillac and a pretty great one by Hotel Chelsea, but honestly, the music was beside the point.  Hopefully, Bug's gonna get a nice chunk of change from this shindig.  On that note, if y'all have some money to spare, click here to send some of it Bug's way.

Hotel Chelsea's bassist Mikey Rootnote did not appreciate getting antagonized by a hot-pants-wearing, well-into-his-cups Adam Showalter (a.k.a. local mock-gangsta act Sword of a Bad Speller).  However, I'm sure he appreciated Showalter getting dunked in the water tank set up behind the Shredder.  Showalter still stuck around afterwards to groove out to Hotel Chelsea's set.

Next time people think about talking smack about Josh Gross, they should consider this: the man was willing to strip down to his boxers and get dunked in water in the middle of winter to help raise money for an uninsured convalescent.  That's gotta count for something.

You can find info on the groups in this post on Facebook and elsewhere online.  And again, if you'd like to contribute to Bug's recovery fund, click here.

Teenage Bottlerocket, the Useless and Hotel Chelsea @ the Red Room (11/8/12)

A couple guys whose taste in punk I respect were excited about Teenage Bottlerocket coming to town, so I grew intrigued. The fact that local outfits the Useless and Hotel Chelsea were opening for the Wyoming band seemed like a good sign as well, so I marked this show down on the calendar.

The gentlemen I spoke with weren't the only ones excited about this gig.  There had to have been at least eighty people at the Red Room when I arrived, and Wes Malvini would tell me later that 160 people had paid for tickets.  Pretty impressive, considering that Gwar was playing at the Knitting Factory this same night.  I found the fairly broad age range of the audience equally impressive.

Hotel Chelsea opened the show.  Not only did their buzzsaw guitars and high-speed rhythm section sound in fine form, the band seemed genuinely happy to be playing this gig.  Red Kubena's harmonies rang out loud and proud on "Sampson is a Fuck," and the crowd danced, clapped, cheered and threw up the horns throughout.

Next up was the Useless.  This marked their second time playing live with their reassembled horn section (their first was an opening slot for Reel Big Fish at the Knitting Factory, which I'm sure they didn't find intimidating at all).  The trombone and two trumpets added just the right jaunty, woozy touch to such paeans to delinquency as "French Fries and DUI's" and "Policeman."  Jason Rucker's rough vocals and sharp guitar sounded pretty damn good, especially considering how drunk he was, and the sturdy rhythm section kept van cruising down the road.  Moments where the grip on the wheel slipped a little just added to the fun.  A few excerpts from this set:

"Shh!  It's a sad panda party!"

"Hey, who here likes ska?"  "WOO!"  "Who here likes heroin?"  "WOO!"

"How many of you are f*cked up right now?  Raise your hands!"  (Five or six people did, but I wouldn't consider that an accurate number.)

"Jason Rucker got me drunk!"

"I suck?  Depends on what you're selling."

"This is probably gonna be our last song unless more shots come."

"If you're a cop out there, this song goes out to you!  SOO-EEE!"

Teenage Bottlerocket closed out the night.  If one of their members hadn't regularly shouted out "ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR!" in perfect Dee Dee fashion, I'd have never guessed that these guys liked the Ramones.  Just kidding: their rip-roaring guitars, hi-hat-heavy drumming and lyrics about freak-outs and nuthouses had the Ramones written all over them.  They had strong enough songwriting and performance chops to make this stuff their own, however, and they'd also taken care to absorb the Ramones' sense of manic fun.  The crowd became a roiling mass of flesh as Teenage Bottlerocket blasted through one song after another.  "I don't know why the f*ck we never been here before," someone in the band said at one point.  Hopefully, it won't be the last time.

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

Aficionado, Mixtapes, Citizen, Hotel Chelsea and My Young Dreamer @ the Venue; New York Rifles @ the Red Room (10/12/12)

This was a tough call.  Originally, I'd planned to catch New York Rifles's return to the Red Room this night.  They'd kicked some serious ass when I saw them back in July, and this night's bill also featured equally ass-kicking local bands the Hand and the Bare Bones.  At the last minute, however, I opted to check out this show at the Venue, which featured four bands that I'd never encountered before and Hotel Chelsea, whom I hadn't seen in a while.  After all, it kinda defeats the purpose of this blog if I just write about the same bands over and over and over.

I counted a little over forty people when I got down to the Venue around 8 pm.  About half of that crowd would leave as the night went on, but those folks may have just had school or work in the morning (the audience seemed comprised largely of teenagers with a few parents tossed in).  Hopefully, it wasn't the music that drove them away.

First up was My Young Dreamer, a young pop-rock band from Meridian.  I missed a bit of their set, but what I caught sounded promising.  Their solid groove and friendly, confident stage presence put across some smart, catchy songs.  I especially appreciated "Be a Man So I Don't Have To," about a guy hoping that his girlfriend will take the axe to their dying relationship.  Frontman Jake Haley and guitarist Michael Pease's clear vocals didn't lean too hard on the stereotypical pop-punk whine.  An attempted sing-along fell flat, but they shouldn't let that discourage them.  If they can keep this up, folks should come around eventually.

After My Young Dreamer came Hotel Chelsea, who sounded in fine, thunderous form from Ryan Sampson's winning bellow and Red Kubena's searing solos to Mikey Rootnote and Chris Devino's freight-train bass and drums.  They played so well, in fact, that I couldn't help but wonder at the crowd's muted response.  What, did their Ritalin prescriptions need adjusting?  Anyway, a highlight of the set came when Kubena and Sampson briefly discussed which song to play for their closer.  Kubena would only hear of one option: the self-explanatory "Sampson is a F*ck."  No points for guessing which song they finally settled on.

Next up was Citizen, whose five members hail from Michigan and Ohio.  Their take on pop-punk had a slightly more hardcore feel that the preceding two acts' did: Eric Hamm's thick, twangy bass, Cray Wilson's pounding drums and Nick Hamm and Ryland Oehler's grinding riffs framed Mat Kerekes's rousing scream.  In spite of the extra abrasiveness, however, they still sounded plenty tuneful.  A nice combination.

Mixtapes from Cincinnati, OH played next.  With their sharp melodies, sharper lyrics, unstoppable drumming, buzzsaw riffs, locked-in rapport and playful, hyperactive stage act, this group would've made the show worthwhile all by themselves.  They bounced, twirled, spat at each other, chucked their guitars into the air (not quite intentionally).  Grand fun.

The Albany-based band Aficionado closed out the show.  You know that an emo/prog-leaning rock band is doing something right when their lineup includes a flautist and they still don't sound like a bunch of prissy crybabys (well, not too much, anyway).  Indeed, Laura Carrozza's serene flute parts and soothing vocals helped put the music over by tempering the melodrama of Nick Warchol's agonized moan.  In the man's defense, though, I should add that his thoughtful lyrics helped with that too.  Meanwhile, the elegant guitar lines, grounding bass and pulverizing drums demolished any lingering reservations that this normally emo/prog-phobic reviewer had.

After Aficionado finished, I headed over to the Red Room.  There's something to be said for shows starting late, sometimes: I got there in time to catch all of New York Rifles' set.  Their buzzing, stinging guitar, hooky basslines, quick drumming and can't-believe-I-haven't-heard-this-a-million-times-but-now-I-want-to songs sounded even better than I remembered.  It probably helped that there was a slightly larger crowd to see, hear and dance to them this time around.

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

The Alltheways, Hotel Chelsea, The Murderburgers and Dear Landlord @ the Shredder (8/1/12)

The chance to finally write about one of my favorite local punk bands, Hotel Chelsea, first attracted me to this show.  What really sealed the deal, however, was talking to Matt Wildhagen from the Ratings Battle.  He's a huge fan of Dear Landlord, and he told me that this was gonna be THE event of the summer for him.  Matt knows a thing or two about music (especially punk), so I decided that this would be worth the $10 cover.

I got down to the Shredder around 8 and checked out the badass posters for old shows pasted up on the wall opposite the skateboard ramp.  The crowd started out a little thin and then built to a respectable forty or so people.  I saw plenty of familiar faces: Matt Wildhagen (of course), Jason Rucker from the Useless, the lead singer of Piranhas (at least, I think that was him).  Josh Gross showed up as well and filmed a bit of Hotel Chelsea's set for Boise Weekly's online series "Scenes from a Scene."  Check it out if you haven't seen it before.  Pretty cool stuff.

First up this evening was local pop-punk band the Alltheways.  Their staightforward tunes and riffs served as a decent warm-up for the rest of the show.  Their guitar players didn't get too annoying as they sang with the standard pop-punk adolescent whine, their drummer got to flex a little muscle and their bassist got to show a little elasticity.  Not great, but not bad.

After the Alltheways came Hotel Chelsea.  To my ears, these guys make pop-punk as the good Lord (or the Dark Lord, whichever you prefer) intended: catchy melodies and sharp-witted lyrics get put through their paces by metallic lead guitar, freight-train rhythm guitar and bass and whirlwind drumming.  Ryan Sampson joyously hollered out the tunes and slashed out the beat.  Red Kubena contributed some surprisingly sweet harmonies and made his guitar weave and sting.  Mikey Rootnote prowled around the stage, mugged it up for the crowd and tore at the strings of his bass while Chris Devino bashed away on the drums.  The crowd pressed toward the stage like Patrick Swayze paddling out into the fifty-year storm (c'mon, don't tell me you haven't seen Point Break).  This was the fiercest and most focused Hotel Chelsea set that I've seen.  So far, anyway.

Up next was Scottish trio the Murderburgers.  Their lean, balls-to-the-wall sound made me wonder if these guys just dashed across the Atlantic like the Road Runner to get to the U.S..  They played hard enough and fast enough to make the Ramones sound like Jimmy Reed, but they still managed to work in some solid tunes and even a groove.  They tore through one song after the next with barely a breath in between.  In fact, more than once, I didn't realize that they'd started another song until they were halfway through it.  I really hope that these guys can make it out here again.

Minnesota/Illinois-based Dear Landlord closed out the night.  Their full-throttle take on pop-punk had fewer curves than the Murderburgers' did but proved quite enjoyable all the same.  They showed off some sharp songwriting and more-than-decent musicianship, but what really made them stand out were their vocal arrangements--a little call-and-response, a little layering, plenty of good old all-together-now.  Definitely the best pop-punk band named after an obscure Dylan song that I've ever heard.

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