Red Hands Black Feet and Iconoplasty @ the Crux; Icarus the Owl and a.k.a. Belle @ the Red Room (8/11/13)

It's no secret that I'm a big fan of Red Hands Black Feet.  Indeed, I've probably written more about them than any other band.  So of course I was gonna see them at the kickoff show for their and Iconoplasty's West Coast Tour.

Sidenote: They've been on tour for a couple of weeks now.  It's gone pretty well overall, but it's also had some hardships and difficulties.

I counted twenty-three people when I got to the Crux.  When Red Hands Black Feet played, I counted about seventy.  A very respectable crowd.

Iconoplasty opened the show.  Josh Gross certainly sounded raring to go: his guitar playing was sharp, his layering of riffs, licks and beats was precise and confident and his transitions between passages were smoother than ever.  It might have been nice if he'd stretched the individual passages out a little more, but then again, the quick change-ups were a good way of keeping people on their toes.  Figuratively, anyway--no one danced, but most everyone watched the stage.

This set featured a booming cameo from Jessica Johnson and a brief section where Gross invited people to say what they thought of the music.  Three people did so.

Jake Myers: "I like it!"

Dillon from San Francisco: "Although I like your music, it makes me feel like a I'm in a Beverly Hills nightmare."

Eric Gilbert: "More rock, less talk."

After Iconoplasty finished, I headed over to the Red Room.  Heather Roberts's Ten Gallon Cat had set up an intriguing bill featuring a.k.a. Belle and Portland rock band Icarus the Owl (she's actually been setting up quite a few interesting shows lately).  I can't lie, though: part of what attracted me to this show was the chance to see Roberts and the Fiddle Junkies' Austin Clark as Bette and Yvette, a.k.a. Belle's two "dancers."

a.k.a. Belle played first and sounded as strong and swinging as ever.  Chris Galli and Louis McFarland's smooth, assured grooves carried along Sam Merrick's screeching guitar and Catherine Merrick's warm, lovely voice.  Once again, it occurred to me that the touch of jazz in this group's sound helps make it a bit sexier than your average Americana act's.  This set featured a brooding new number entitled "Crooked Path" and a clever little quotation from "Like a Hurricane."

And yes, this was about as awesome as I'd hoped.

Icarus the Owl played soon after a.k.a. Belle.  The slight emo whine to Joey Rubenstein's vocals was counterbalanced by the band's rippling guitar licks and angular, disorienting tempos.  Conversely, the emo elements of the music helped keep the math-rock stuff from feeling too arch.  Sharp as a razor and chops to spare but not so's they'd brag about it.  Good stuff.

I would've liked to have stayed for Icarus the Owl's whole set, but I wanted to get back to the Crux in time for Red Hands Black Feet's set.  Walking over, I could hear them from a block away.

Red Hands Black Feet sounded more than ready to hit the road as well.  The material from their upcoming EP sounded as roiling, majestic and achingly beautiful as their older stuff.  The crowd did the expected whooping and nodding to the beat.  During one lyrical guitar intro, Jessica Johnson jumped offstage to hug people in the audience.  Then she got back behind her drum kit and bashed away.

You can find info on these acts on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Heather Roberts and Ten Gallon Cat.  And in case you didn't click on the link earlier, go here to learn how you can help Red Hands Black Feet get out of the red.

Gramma's House Treefort Kickoff Party @ the Red Room (3/18/13)

I'd heard quite a bit of buzz about this show around town and on Facebook.  That and the fact that it featured older local acts I'd never seen before (and might not see again) gave me enough reason to check it out.  I just hoped two days would be enough rest before Treefort started.

I counted about twenty-five people when I got to the Red Room.  That number would build to at least eighty as the night progressed.  I saw two guys get onstage wearing animal masks.  I got the feeling right around then that this was gonna get interesting.

Acts who played:

For Fuck's Sake--Johnny Rotten once described himself as a "noise structuralist."  I thought about that as this duo worked the knobs on a distortion pedal and banged on a guitar-like instrument with drumsticks to create rhythmic pulses of buzzing, howling distortion.  Then they took up a bass and drums and played a couple of stone-simple, droning punk-tunes with lines like "That's why you're always getting high./ That's why you're always telling lies."  Good fun.

Tuck and Adam Ruin Your Birthday--Rumbling drums met with tuneful, funky basslines.  Their first number kinda sounded like Zeppelin, their second kinda sounded like Primus and both sounded dandy.  A little loose, but hey, they probably hadn't played together in a while.  The crowd bobbed to the beat regardless.

Palm Reader--A nice warm-up of sorts for Earth's Treefort set.  Dirge-y beats combined with faint, high-pitched synth whines and waves of rattling, roaring guitar noise.  The folks closest to the stage sat on the floor and let it all wash over them.  Ominous, haunting stuff.

La Knotts--One of the big-ticket items on this bill.  They decorated their catchy tunes with thrashing drums, chainsaw guitar, tuneful basslines and pleasantly snarled vocals.  Grunge lives (or it did for this set, anyway).

Electric Jesus and the Flying Dream Machine--A nice mix: raw but dreamy.  Trashy organ, clanging riffs, steady drums, surf-tinged tunes, Lou Reed-ish deadpan vocals.  The crowd went wild for their ramshackle, Sid Vicious-esque closer (a cover, they said, but I don't know of what), but I much preferred their garage-drone take on Sonny Boy Williamson's "Help Me."

Scarf--Hardcore shmardcore.  This duo's thudding drums, first-lesson organ chords and tuneless screams had their true roots in temper tantrums, nursery rhymes and those doody jokes that you thought were hilarious back in Kindergarten.  The crowd channeled their inner brat during this set: they moshed, bounced around and jumped onstage to holler into the mic.  Snotty, stoopid fun.

Sidenote: these guys actually got a set at the El Korah during Treefort.  Don't ever say Doug Martsch isn't generous...

This is right before two of the girls onstage took their tops off.

The Jungle Fucks--There's goofing around and then there's goofing around.  The touch of genuine musicianship in this trio's rubbery basslines, bashing drums and demented carousel organ helped make their one-joke concept a lot funnier than Scarf's one-joke concept.  Guest screamers/groaners during this set included Saxton Turner from Meth House Party Band, Taylor Levi Campbell, Ditch Tiger's lead singer and the Red Room's own Meghann Cahill.  Transcendently ridiculous.

You can find info on these acts on Myspace and elsewhere.  Maybe.  I dunno.

Caspian, Native and Ditch Tiger @ the Red Room (3/7/13)

This show caught my interest because it featured three bands I'd never seen before, two of them from out of state.  Then I read up a little on Caspian and got even more interested.  They've been making a name for themselves--European tour, SXSW gig, album review in Spin, stuff like that.  This show started to look like one of those deals where the band plays some small venue one year and then plays someplace like the Knitting Factory the next.

I counted something like twenty-five people when I arrived at the Red Room.  When Caspian played, I counted a little over fifty.  Modest, but not bad.

Local band Ditch Tiger opened the show.  Usually, I don't care for screamo-ish metal/hardcore, but these guys proved an exception.  It helped a lot that their pounding riffs, intertwining guitar lines, snaking basslines and rumbling drums emphasized groove over preening melodrama.  You could've even danced at a few points.  Their barking vocals didn't seem to fit the music sometimes, but I imagine that they'll work that out (not at the expense of the groove, hopefully).  As for the sound as a whole, it was good and loud but not so much so that any instruments drowned out the others.

Up next was Native.  Here was surprise number two of the night.  This Indiana band's howled vocals, pulverizing chords and machine-gun drumming managed to be dramatic but not overbearing.  The trick, I think, lay in how their bass sounded more thunderous than their clean, ringing guitars.  This enabled them to infuse their raw power with an agreeable lightness and airiness.  Similarly, while their stage act was as fierce as you could've wanted (lunging back and forth, swinging instruments like weapons, big lights flashing when the vocals came in), their joy and gratitude came through strongest: they thanked the audience at length for showing them love on 1) their first time in Boise and 2) their first tour in a long time.

Caspian closed out the night.  If somebody ever makes a film adaptation of Dante's Paradiso, he/she should hire these guys to score it.  This Massachusetts band's soothing drones, driving beats, guiding basslines, whirring distortion and chiming/roaring guitars were by turns ominous and rousing, turbulent and serene.  Their assured playing and unfailing sense of drama kept the audience enraptured for the entire set.  Like a waking dream.  Highly recommended to fans of Talkdemonic and Red Hands Black Feet.

A nice little aside: I glanced over to the sound booth at one point and saw Blake Green (Wolvserpent) nodding gently to the beat.  Skill recognizes skill.

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

Maserati, Dark Swallows and Red Hands Black Feet @ Neurolux; Lost Weekend and Hedtriip @ the Red Room (2/28/13)

I hadn't heard much about Maserati, which would have given me reason enough to check them out.  The fact that they hailed from Athens, GA made them look promising, however.  So did the presence of local bands Dark Swallows and Red Hands Black Feet on the bill.

I counted about thirty people when I got down to Neurolux.  By the time that Maserati took the stage, the crowd had built to about a hundred.

Red Hands Black Feet opened the show.  I was glad to see them here since I'd been thinking about passing on their Treefort set this year (hey, it's not like I won't get to see 'em again, right?).  Anyway, this set gave me the opportunity to reflect again on just how far this band has come.  They've grown so comfortable and confident in their playing that this night's performance took on a certain stately grandeur.  It was as if the songs had become aware of their own greatness.  This doesn't mean that they sounded staid, however: some extra distortion and guitar embroidery here and some supple drumming there helped keep the older material fresh. The music was powerful enough on its own, but some flickering, twirling lights upped the intensity level another notch.

Great.  I might HAVE to see them at Treefort now.

Dark Swallows played next.  My eyebrow raised a little at the trumpet on their opener, but other than that, their somber tunes and their web of droning, howling guitars sounded as rousing and hypnotic as ever.  Maybe even more so, actually, thanks to the extra limberness in the bass and drums and the increased power in the vocals.  Mournful, fierce, beautiful.

Maserati closed out the night at Neurolux.  Rare is the group that can fuse Ministry with James Brown.  This band's percolating synth tracks, mind-warping guitars, sly basslines and ferocious, indomitable drums left me confused over whether to headbang or dance.  The crowd up front started off with a bit of the former but shifted more to the latter as the torrents of beats pounded into them.  Techno meets metal meets New Wave meets funk.  Stunning.

After Maserati finished, I staggered over to the Red Room to see if I could catch some of the show there.  I counted a little under forty people when I arrived.  Not too great, but not too bad.  At least the Maserati show didn't suck up all the show-goers/substance abusers this night.

I managed to catch the tail-end of electro-pop group Lost Weekend's set.  What I heard was definitely enough to make me wish I'd caught more.  Light, soulful vocals glided over layers of glimmering synth hooks and hard-driving beats.  Their songs were as catchy and dance-inducing as anything I've heard by, say, the Killers.  What's more, consultation with their Bandcamp recordings revealed some pretty sharp lyrics.  This band may hail from Winnipeg, but hopefully, we'll see them around here again.

Twin Falls electro-rock act Hedtriip closed out the night at the Red Room.  He seemed to have some technical difficulties early on, but once he sorted those out, his driving, intricate beats and riffs sounded as enjoyable as I remembered.  His set also featured new material that included--gasp!--vocals.  Should go over well at Treefort, I imagine.

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

Stargaze Unlimited, The Deadlight Effect, Obscured By the Sun and Modesto @ the Red Room (2/22/13)

I'd known of the Deadlight Effect and Obscured By the Sun, but I'd never seen them before.  That was enough to get me interested in this show.  As an extra bonus, it gave me the chance to see the Caldwell group Stargaze Unlimited again.

I counted about twenty-five people when I got to the Red Room.  The audience would build to around thirty-five as the evening progressed.  Pretty small for a Friday night, but it could've been worse.

Local group Modesto opened the night.  These guys seem to have been rolling along pretty well since they changed their name from Whale.  The lyrics, while still nothing special, sounded decent enough as delivered by Tyler Brodt's Robert Plant-esque wail (which sounded twenty years older than he looked).  Brodt got some good support from Alex Wargo's jagged soloing and Jesse Weidmeier and Wade Ronsse's hard-shuffling rhythms.  While they sounded a little ragged at times, their youthful enthusiasm (grinning, hopping, head-banging) compensated.  Hey, Zeppelin's lyrics were never that hot either.

Obscured By the Sun played next.  Travis X. Abbott's elegant, snarling guitar, Jacob Fredrickson's sinewy basslines and Chris Santiago's rumbling drums rode tuneful, elemental riffs for all that they were worth.  Their strong rapport became doubly impressive when I learned that these guys had only played together for two weeks.  Hypnotic stuff.

Up next was the Deadlight Effect.  This local group's ominous riffs, guttural screams, jackhammer rhythms and big flashing lights were all impressively menacing.  Unfortunately, as with most metal of this kind, the monolithic quality to this group's music left me cold.  Stuff like this just feels so formalized, so hollow to me.  I will note, however, that the band's airy synth drones did add an intriguingly ethereal touch to their Sturm und Drang.

Stargaze Unlimited closed out the night.  Sheesh--seems like I can't win with these guys.  This set featured Richard Metzger manning the drum kit again, but bassist Travis Gamble was nowhere to be found (his name no longer appears on their Facebook page either).  The lack of bass led inevitably to a thinner, slightly weaker sound.  Still, Metzger's muscular drum work and Kurtis Beckwith's searing guitar gave me plenty to listen to.  It's just too bad that not many others heard it: there were only thirteen people left when Stargaze Unlimited played.  Oh well.

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

With Child, Gem State and Sleepy Seahorse @ Neurolux; The Butcher Boy and Red Hands Black Feet @ the Red Room (1/15/13)

I decided to check this show out mainly because it gave me the chance to see With Child again.  I'd heard that Elijah Jensen had added some new personnel--to wit, his brothers Jeremy and Noah along with Ethan Smith--and was curious to see how this augmented lineup would affect the music.  Also, I was curious about local musician Tim Andreae, whom I'd never encountered before and who was performing with a band under the name Gem State.

I counted about twenty-five people when I arrived at Neurolux.  Another twenty or so would show up as the evening progressed.  I took up my usual spot at the bar and listened to the Talking Heads and Pixies songs on the PA, which were selected by my friend Daphne Stanford.  She hosts The Poetry Show on Radio Boise every Tuesday at 12:30 pm.  She's a pretty good poet herself, though she might deny it.

Sleepy Seahorse opened the night.  The fan of the perverse in me kinda wished that Joey Corsentino had sung with the Jason mask on again, but that's really neither here nor there.  Corsentino's tunes sounded as warm and well-crafted as ever.  The same went for his backing tracks and lyrics.  His voice, however, was in especially fine form.  The slight whine in Corsentino's vocals felt less like a cross to bear and more like a show of empathy for all the sadsacks out there.  It seemed to say, "Look, fellas, I've been there before.  It'll be okay."

Gem State played next.  Tim Andreae's backers (which included Thomas Paul and Mostecelo/Palankeen's Rebeca Suarez) deserve the Jennifer Warnes/Sharon Robinson Award for Most Valuable Backup Singers: their witty, acerbic, angelic interjections went a long way toward making this set halfway tolerable.  Perhaps Andreae's prolix, tuneless story-songs will sound better in their proper order on the album that he said he's working on.  In this context, however, they felt mostly like in-jokes that I wasn't in on.  Even the songs whose melodies/lyrics I liked tended to hang around like a socially inept friend who won't take the hint to go home.  The reedy, slightly smug flatness of Andreae's vocals didn't do them any favors either.

With Child's set threw me for a loop.  Having seen/heard the Jensen boys in various capacities last year, I expected that the tunes would be as solid as rock candy.  I was completely unprepared, however, for  Jeremy Jensen's piercing solos, for Noah Jensen's fluid, melodic basslines and for Ethan Smith's propulsive drumming.  As for Elijah Jensen, he seemed to be in a particularly rowdy mood: he flipped off his trademark mesh cap, got some sharp interplay going with Jeremy and put some extra lung power into his charming croon.  He also dropped the F-bomb a few times, which apparently caused the live broadcast of the show to get cut off.  Personally, I gotta give the man props: that was easily the most punk rock thing that has happened at any Radio Boise Tuesday show.  It was just too fuckin' bad that the folks at home probably didn't hear the part where Elijah Jensen got everyone to shout, "I LOVE YOU!" or the ten-minute-plus jangle/Spector/surf/disco mash-up finale.  Wrote it for his mom, Elijah Jensen said.  She should be proud.

One upside to being unemployed right now: I can see a show at Neurolux and then swing by the Red Room without having to worry about getting up the next morning.  That's exactly what I did this night after With Child wrapped.

I arrived in time to catch the tail end of the Butcher Boy's set.  Between this Maine band's obnoxiously flat vocals, dirge-y guitar riffs and toy xylophone, however, I might have been better off hanging out at Neurolux for just a little longer.  Their music was clearly well-crafted and not quite as insular as Gem State's, but it still got pretty annoying.  Maybe if I'd seen the whole set...  Then again, maybe not.

Red Hands Black Feet closed out the Red Room's show with a typically solid performance.  They brooded their way through their newest song, made "Django's Last Ride" yowl and shriek and stretched out the intro to "This is What You Get When You Befriend a Stranger in the Alps" like they were pulling taffy.  The fifty-plus people in the crowd whooped and hollered it up.  A fine way to end the night.  I kinda missed "Sink the Bismarck," but I imagine that I'll hear it again sometime soon (and not just because I picked up a copy of their album, which is also available on Bandcamp now).

You can find info on these acts on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Eric Gilbert and Radio Boise.