Jennie Wayne and Lindsay Clark @ the Flying M Concert-Garage (8/15/13)

I was a wreck this day.  I'd stayed up all night writing a handful of articles for the Boise Weekly and only gotten three hours of sleep.  When the evening came, I didn't feel like doing anything other than sit on my couch and stare vacantly into space.

Then I saw a Facebook event page for this show.  Then I listened to Jennie Wayne's latest album.  Then I said to myself, "Y'know, I could really use some more of this right now."  So I dragged my carcass into my car and made the drive out to Nampa.

There were eleven people inside the concert-garage when I arrived.  The audience peaked at seventeen.  A modest crowd, but at least the people were into the music; they alternated between respectful silence and warm applause throughout the show.

Jennie Wayne played first.  This Portland musician's clean, breathy vocals and soothing melodies helped level me off from the iced coffee I'd gulped down.  Her lyrics were consistently thoughtful and well-turned, but frankly, I could've listened to her coo the Flying M's menu.  During her Prince cover, I could've closed my eyes and sworn I was listening to Alison Krauss.  Sweet, soulful, gorgeous.

Fellow Portland musician Lindsay Clark played next.  Her subdued, fluttery vocals were more austere than Wayne's.  Similarly, her lyrics were edgier and more ominous.  Nothing wrong with that, though; her cryptic, fascinating songs and her spare banjo picking made me think a little of Five Leaves Left or Pink Moon.  Also, I appreciated the determination of her closing song: "You say the grass is greener, but I know the grass is one shade. / And I will see it through, and I will see it through."

You can find info on Jennie Wayne and Lindsay Clark on Facebook and elsewhere online.

First Borns and Color Animal @ the Flying M Concert-Garage (6/28/13)

A band I'd never seen before was going to play the Flying M out in Nampa.  That was all I needed to see.  I marked the show down on the calendar.

Not many others did.  There were six people at the concert-garage when I got there.  The audience never rose over fifteen.  So it goes, I guess.

Color Animal played first.  I knew that this Salt Lake City group would play the Red Room the next night.  By the end of this set, I was hoping that they'd play to a much larger crowd there.  Their boyish vocals, their sunny tunes, their bright, weaving guitars, their straight-ahead basslines and their fluid, driving drums sounded like a cross between the Strokes and the Very Most.  Wiry, dreamy, rocking.

In the modest crowd was a family whom the band apparently knew from SLC.  Didn't hear them griping about the drive out to Nampa...

First Borns played next.  This group seems to rock harder each time I see them, and this set was no exception.  Christopher Smith worked a little sneer into his vocals, Alex Hecht slashed away at his guitar strings and Erik Butterworth's drumming had a nice muscular swing to it.  They may have sounded a little ragged at times, but that just added to the punkish feel of this set.  Smith said that they might retire "Gene," the first song that they wrote together, after this set.  I like that song okay, but considering their uptick in intensity, I'm more interested in what they'll come up with next.

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.

Telekinesis and Deep Sea Diver @ the Flying M Concert-Garage (5/22/13)

I hadn't heard of Telekinesis prior to this show.  However, I took it as a good sign that Deep Sea Diver, one of my favorite Treefort 2013 acts, was opening for him/them.  I just hoped that more people would show up at this show than at the Couches show on the night before.

Well, a few more people showed up.  The crowd numbered about twenty-five when I arrived and included most if not all of Hollow Wood.  By my estimate, it would peak at somewhere between ninety and a hundred.

Deep Sea Diver played first.  Hey, I never said I wasn't petty.  I enjoyed this Seattle band's Treefort set very much, but when I listened to their album afterwards, the ee-dee-oh-seen-kwah-sees of Jessica Dobson's vocals got on my nerves.  Hearing their warmth and tenderness live again, however, I couldn't help but feel like a bit of a dick.  Dobson's joyous stage presence didn't assuage my guilt.  I managed to put it aside, though, in order to enjoy the strong, smooth beats, the chiming guitars, the rippling keyboards and the 60's pop-tinged tunes once more.  Also, not only can Peter Mansen beat them skins hard, I can't remember the last drummer I saw who was this much fun just to watch (grinning, hair-flailing, etc.).

Telekinesis played next.  I listened to two or three songs and thought, "Damn good indie-pop/rock."  Then I noticed how, on number after number, the turbo-charged rhythms, sunny guitars, ringing keyboard and lovely melodies didn't falter or let up.  Then I noticed the unaffected, un-cutesy forthrightness of Michael Benjamin Lerner's breathy vocals.  Then I started thinking that I should change that "damn good" to "damn great."  A lot of people seemed to reach that conclusion quicker than I did: it took about two songs to get them on their feet and in front of the stage.  The band grinned, bounced and clapped to the beat, and the crowd followed suit.

Before I wrap up this post, I have to share a joke that Telekinesis' bassist told during their set: "Why can't they put a statue of Skrillex in the town square?  Because of the wobbly base."  Hey, I thought that that was hilarious.

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

Couches, Naked Apes and Teton Avenue @ the Flying M Concert-Garage (5/21/13)

This show caught my attention because it featured Couches, a San Francisco group whose Treefort set I'd missed.  They'd played the previous night with Red Hands Black Feet at the Red Room.  I chose to cover this one instead, however, because 1) I didn't want to miss the Heligoats, 2) I can't write about EVERY goddamn Red Hands Black Feet show, and 3) part of me worried that not many folks would show up.

Being right really does suck sometimes.  I counted seven people when I got to the Flying M.  When Couches played, I counted twelve, most of them members of the other bands.  Oh well.  At least the Shivas' Radio Boise Tuesday show seemed well-attended (judging from the crapload of people I saw out on the patio when I walked by Neurolux later that night).

Teton Avenue opened the show.  In my last write-up on this band, I wrote that they "made me think a little of what the Strokes might sound like if they weren't a bunch of spoiled rich boys."  Their lead singer seemed to have taken that comment to heart: with his shades, his coolly bored demeanor and his talk of "my guitarist" and "my bassist" [italics mine], the guy was the very picture of an a**hole rock frontman.  Thankfully, he joked around enough with his bandmates to show that he didn't take that stuff too seriously.  In any case, their propulsive rhythms, catchy tunes and fluid solos sounded even better than they did at the Torn ACLs show.  They still have some rough edges--a false start here, an unconfident vocal there--but overall, they're coming along nicely.

Naked Apes played next.  Speaking of coming along nicely, this duo may have played their best set yet (that I've seen, anyway).  They slipped around on the beat some, and while Gabe Arellano's low-string riffs do what they can, the bottom end of their sound could use a little filling in.  All the same, their raw vocals, fuzzy guitar and rumbling drums proved immensely enjoyable.  This was especially true in the case of the lumbering, mid-tempo numbers at the end of their set, which also featured some ominous, spacey distortion.  Also, I could hear the lyrics pretty well this time around (not bad, from what I caught).

Couches closed out the night.  Between their tight groove, their smooth tempo shifts and their pleasantly plain vocals, these guys called to mind a less eccentric Built to Spill.  Mike Dubuque's clipped, smartly restrained drumming and Chris Griley's sly basslines provided a sturdy platform for Dave Mitchell's jangling, clanging riffs and terse, tuneful solos.  I warmed to this group quickly, but their love song to California clinched it.  The stuff about dreamers, peace of mind and talking about outer space wasn't bad either, especially since it came with such pretty melodies.  I also appreciated the energy that they put into their performance in spite of the meager crowd.  As for Mitchell's Giants cap, hey, I can respect hometown pride (the Dodgers will rise again, I can feel it...).

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

Cait Olds and Marcus Eugene @ the Flying M Concert-Garage; Like A Rocket @ Pengilly's (4/24/13)

Two acts I'd never seen before out at the Flying M?  One local, one out-of-state?  That was all I needed to hear.  It helped too that I liked the little bit of Cait Olds's music that I'd heard.

There were five people inside the concert-garage when Nathan Walker started getting the stage set up.  The crowd would peak at about twenty-four or twenty-five.  Not bad for a Wednesday.

Local musician Marcus Eugene opened the show.  I took the image of Johnny Cash flipping the bird on the kick drum as a good omen.  For the most part, I was proved right.  Eugene came packing a clean, pleasant voice, some solidly constructed tunes and some thoughtful, well-turned phrases.  Meanwhile, his drummer's quietly intricate fills gave the songs some good forward motion.  Some of the drum parts could've used some tweaking, though, and both musicians seemed a little unsure of themselves.  Nothing a few more gigs wouldn't cure.

Cait Olds played next.  Between this Portland-based musician and Ari Shine, I'm tempted to institute a test for all singer-songwriter types: if you wanna show how good you are, write a song about a grandma (not necessarily yours, just a grandma).  If you can make it warm, sweet and detailed but not overly sentimental, you get an A.  Olds earned an A.  She did well by junkies and homicidal anger too.  Between her smart lyrics, her soothing melodies, her tender murmur and her bandmates' nice loping grooves, Olds was pretty much everything I wished Angel Olsen was.  Two jokes from this set:

1) Two whales are sitting in a bar.  One whale asks, "How're you doin?"  The second whale says, "Ooooowaaahhhhoooowaaaahhhhooooohwaaaah..."  And the first whale says, "Dude, you're drunk."  (That got the folks at an Astoria brewpub to pay attention to them, Olds said.)

2) Why did the scarecrow win the Nobel Prize?  Because he was outstanding in his field.  (Olds's banjo player said he got that one from Garrison Keillor.)

photo by Jen Patrick

After the show out in Nampa finished, I headed over to Pengilly's to wish Speedy Gray's girlfriend, Jen Patrick, a happy birthday.  This gave me the chance to see Like A Rocket live for the first time in a good long while.  They sounded a touch subdued at first, but they cranked it up real good near the end.  At any rate, everything I heard reconfirmed my belief that this is far and away the best straight-up roots-rock group in town (man, that Max Klymenko is a helluva drummer).

Newer songs dominated what I heard of the show.  This included a droning, sinister number that featured some scathing slide guitar from Z.V. House and a big chunk of stuff from their upcoming second album Welcome to Anhedonia.  I actually got the chance to listen to some rough mixes, and they sounded fantastic.  They recently started an Indiegogo campaign to raise money for the pressing and mastering.  If you'd like to contribute, go here.  Trust me, it'll be worth it.

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

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT: Brother, Can You Spare...

Okay, here's the deal.

I've been writing this blog for over a year now.  In that time, more has happened than I'd ever imagined possible.  I've heard more great music and met more wonderful people than I have at any other point in my life.  I've formed new friendships and deepened existing ones.  I've learned more about Boise--its culture, its politics, its history--than I have in the past twenty years of living here (I have a lot more to learn, but still...).  My work on this blog landed me a job where I got paid to write, which had been a dream of mine since I was fifteen years old.  But even leaving that aside, I've received recognition for my writing at a level that still astonishes me.  To put it simply, Here Comes the Dumptruck is the best thing that has ever happened in my life.

There's just one problem: I'm running on empty.

As some of you know, I was laid off from my day job in January.  I've searched for work since then that would leave my evening hours free and, consequently, allow me to regularly cover live shows.  So far, I've had no success finding steady employment.

My checking account balance is steadily diminishing.  I'm up to my chest in credit card debt--most of which was built up buying food, clothes and other necessities during fifteen months of unemployment in 2011 and 2012--and it's steadily rising.

Bottom line: if things continue as they are, I will not be able to continue writing this blog past October.  Not with the same breadth and consistency that I have maintained up to this point, anyway.  In short, I need money, and I need it very badly.

Not long after I decided to focus exclusively on covering music in Idaho, people started asking me if I'd given any thought to monetizing this blog.  I toyed with the notion but didn't take it very seriously.  After all, why in God's name should people give their hard-earned dollars to some nobody who'd started some nondescript blog just a few months ago?  What would they get out of it?  How would they know that this guy wouldn't just piss that money away and let the blog collect dust?

Well, after a year of writing this blog, I hope it's clear that I'm not going anywhere.  So long as touring and local bands are playing gigs and recording, so long as I've got the money for cover charges, notebooks, gasoline, etc. and so long as people read what I write, I'll continue to cover this music scene to the best of my ability.

So, how do I start making money off HCTD?  That's a good question.  I'm still working on the answer.  Right now, I'm giving some thought to renting out ad space here, shopping around for sponsors and possibly applying for grants.  If anyone out there has any other suggestions, I'd love to hear them.

However, two options are 100% off the table.  First, I will not take money to write positive reviews of a band, album, etc.  For one thing, some people gripe that I'm too nice as it is.  But seriously, getting paid to turn HCTD into a straight-up ad would completely defeat the purpose of what I'm trying to do.  I'd sooner let this blog die.

(And lest you call me a hypocrite, I will disclose once again that yes, Speedy Gray did briefly pay me $25 a month to contact blogs and media outlets on behalf of Like A Rocket.  I didn't do it for the money.  I did it because I believe that they're an excellent band.  At no time did Speedy Gray try to influence what I've written in this blog.  That's one reason why I like the man.)

Second, I will not charge any kind of subscription fee.  Even if I could do that on Blogger, I wouldn't.  And even if I created my own website (which I'm considering), the content would remain free.  I can be an arrogant jerk sometimes, but I'll NEVER be so arrogant as to demand that you give me your money.

I will, however, ask.

I've set up a Paypal account and started a campaign on Fundrazr as a tip jar of sorts (you've probably noticed the little widget for it in the upper right-hand corner).  If you like what I'm doing with this blog and have a bit of money to spare, please feel free to send some of it my way.  Every little bit really does help.  Hell, if everybody who's liked this blog on Facebook just gave $5, I'd be set for a month.

Now, what exactly would you get out of this?  Well, with sufficient funds, I'll be able to do more.  More live show reviews, more CD reviews, more interviews.  I'll be able to cover this scene with greater depth than ever before.

I'll say this again, however: if you're a musician or promoter and you give me money, DON'T expect a guarantee that I'll call you the eighth wonder of the world.  It's not that I'll be ungrateful.  Far from it.  It's that, if this blog has any value at all, it stems from the fact that I'm giving my honest, independent opinion about this music scene.  Again, I'd sooner stop writing altogether than compromise that value.

I won't lie: it feels very strange asking you to give me money.  When I started this blog, I'd never conceived of anything so ridiculous.  However, enough people seem to like what I'm doing that I'm daring to hold out the hat.  Any amount I get will receive my undying gratitude.  And regardless, I will play out the string with this blog for as long as I can.  Because, when you get down to it, I don't do this for money.  I don't do this for recognition or status.  I do this because I love what's happening in the music scene around Boise.  I'm not exaggerating much when I say that it saved my life.  I want to do everything I can to help people understand what's going on here and how special it is.

Thank You,

Ben Schultz

PS  If you know of any employment opportunities, please let me know.  I'm open to just about anything other than call center work and telemarketing.  I just need something that'll let me off by, say, 5 or 6 pm.  You can find my email address on my profile.

Parenthetical Girls, With Child and Ugly Hussy @ the Flying M Concert-Garage (4/4/13)

Show me a band I've never seen who's set to play the Flying M and I'll show you a band I want to check out.  That was most of the thinking that went into my putting this concert on the calendar.  It helped too, though, that people whose taste I respect were excited about Parenthetical Girls coming to Idaho.  The presence of With Child and Ugly Hussy on the bill seemed promising as well.

I counted fourteen people or so wandering around when I got out there.  When Parenthetical Girls played, I counted about forty-five.  Not bad for a Thursday in Nampa, I suppose.

Ugly Hussy opened the night.  This gentleman seemed to have grown in confidence since I saw him back in January (playing Treefort can help with that).  He conjured up his mist of sunny tunes, chiming licks and clanging beats with impressive ease and gracefulness.  Since he only had a guitar, his music had a lighter and airier feel than that of, say, Iconoplasty.  That's not a bad thing; indeed, that just means that he has his own sound.

With Child played next.  I know it's petty, but families like the Hustons and the Redgraves frustrate me just a little.  I mean, c'mon--why they gotta hog all the talent?  Why can't they spread some of that around?  I felt a little bit of that as I listened to Noah Jensen's curling basslines, to Jeremy Jensen's clipped, elegant, melodic soloing and to Elijah Jensen's friendly croon, intriguing lyrics and mega-catchy melodies (his solos were pretty sharp too).  Good thing Ethan Smith, whose strong work behind the drumkit hammered the whole package home, isn't related.  Otherwise, it just might be more than I could bear.

Parenthetical Girls closed out the night.  Between their bouncy, shiny tunes and frontman Zac Pennington's moves like Jagger and voice like Wainwright (Rufus, that is), this Portland group probably could've done well at a place like the Knitting Factory.  Of course, if I'd seen them there, I wouldn't have seen Pennington strut among the crowd, sing while stretched out on a table, walk on the wooden wall that runs along the stage and climb up to the Flying M's mezzanine.  Besides, while their hard beats, chicken-scratch guitar and serene synthesizer would have held up fine, the wit and sass of the lyrics might have lost something in a larger venue.  The intimacy of Pennington's dry, friendly banter would have suffered too (I especially appreciated his shout-out to the late Roger Ebert).  It took the crowd a little while to loosen up (Pennington teased a particularly stoic cluster of kids seated up front), but a bunch of people were up and dancing by the end.  They also helped make sure that the mic cord didn't get tangled while Pennington was roaming around.

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

Teton Avenue, the Torn ACLs and Naked Apes @ the Flying M Concert-Garage (3/9/13)

I always enjoy seeing shows at the Flying M, so this show attracted my interest right off the bat.  Even better, it featured the Torn ACLs, a Seattle group I'd never seen before, and Teton Avenue and Naked Apes, two Idaho bands I hadn't seen in a good long while.

I counted about thirty people when I got out to Nampa.  By the time that the Torn ACLs played, the audience had built to around forty-five.  A pretty solid number.  Also, it turned out that I wasn't the only one covering the show.  In the crowd was Samantha Donaldson, a young lady who has recently moved to Nampa from Hollywood.  She's been doing some impressive work on her blog Indie Band Finder.  Check it out at www.indiebandfinder.blogspot.com.

Naked Apes kicked off the show.  They sounded a little ragged but not nearly enough so to tarnish the appeal of their sunny tunes, buzzing guitar and rapid-fire drumming.  I couldn't really make out the lyrics, but their songs were well-crafted enough to give me hope.

The Torn ACLs played next.  Just when I think I'm gonna scream if I have to listen to one more 60's surf/pop/garage knock-off, some group shows that there's still some gas in that little deuce coupe.  These guys' limber groove belied that touch of knock-kneed shtick and went a long way towards distinguishing their boyish vocals, jangling guitars, propulsive basslines and steady drumming.  Some sharp lyrics about urban dysfunction and trying not to crash the boss's car helped a lot too.  Also welcome was their dry, self-deprecating stage banter.

Teton Avenue closed out the night.  These dudes have come a long way since I saw them last May. Their light vocals, chiming guitars, piercing solos, smooth basslines and fast-stepping drums made me think a little of what the Strokes might sound like if they weren't a bunch of spoiled rich boys.  Although they still had some rough edges, they got about eighty-five percent of the way towards realizing their catchy tunes and savvy arrangements' considerable potential.  They went for a clap-along and got it.  They also gave shout-outs to the Pemble brothers, the Android House and Caldwell as a whole.  Good for them.

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