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.

Sallie Ford and the Sound Outside and Finn Riggins @ Alive After Five; Radiation City, Sallie Ford and the Sound Outside and Death Songs @ Neurolux (6/26/13)

I'd liked what I'd heard by Sallie Ford and the Sound Outside, but I'd never seen them play live.  When I saw that they'd be playing Alive After Five, then, I marked it down on the calendar.  I just hoped that I'd take enough notes before converting into liquid form.

There were so many people when I got down to the Grove that I didn't bother trying to count them.  I'd guess that there were at least a couple hundred folks.  When Sallie Ford played, there were maybe a couple hundred more.

I got there in time to catch about half of Finn Riggins' opening set.  Lisa Simpson's voice and guitar sounded as melodious, Eric Gilbert's keyboards as textured and Cameron Bouiss's drums as propulsive as ever.  It made me smile to see about a dozen people dancing, especially a couple of young girls and an elderly Asian lady with a tan Army hat.  The set's last song, "Pannin' For Gold," went out to Eric Gilbert's mom, who couldn't make it to this gig.  Nice fella, that Eric Gilbert.

Sallie Ford and the Sound Outside played next.  Rarely do formalists have both the heart to fully embrace their chosen traditions and the smarts to put their own stamp on them.  One part Wanda Jackson, one part Liz Phair, one part the vinyl-collecting librarian of my dreams, Ford is one of those few.  Originals such as the swaggering "They Told Me" and the sassy, surf-tinged "Bad Boys" sounded right at home next to the cover of Loretta Lynn's "Fist City."  Ford seemed a bit subdued, but her pinched, squealing snarl still struck a nice balance between geeky and sexy.  Her bandmates pitched in with strong, swinging rhythms and yowling guitar.  And if their "Heart of Glass" cover didn't quite fit, who cares?  It's a wise formalist who knows when to leave formalism alone.

Miraculously, I stayed close enough to solid after Alive After Five to make it down to Neurolux.  The show there excited me because it featured Death Songs, an act I hadn't seen in well over a year; the Cave Singers, a Treefort 2012 act I'd missed; and Radiation City, one of my top 10 Treefort 2013 acts.

Unfortunately, I learned when I got there that the Cave Singers' van had broken down, forcing them to cancel their appearance (lotta that going around, seems like--the same thing happened with the Nekromantix about two weeks before).  Radiation City and Death Songs were still on board, however, and Sallie Ford and the Sound Outside jumped on the bill to fill things out.

Death Songs played first.  I likened Nicholas Dellfs to Skip James in my review of his April 2012 performance at the VaC.  Hearing his eerie, quavery tenor and ominous but catchy tunes here, however, I thought that he sounded a bit too pop for that analogy to work.  I toyed with comparing him to Travis Ward at first, but Dellf's sharp cover of Townes Van Zandt's "Lungs" brushed that one aside too.  Works for me: I dig Skip James, but nowadays, I play "Snake Song" and "To Live is to Fly" more than "Devil Got My Woman."

Sallie Ford and the Sound Outside played next.  Third time's the charm: I don't know if it was the air conditioning or the beer or the two-set warm-up, but Ford stepped up her game considerably here.  Her vocal attack had more bite ("You may thinkofmeas just some littlegirlyoumet..."), and her interactions with the crowd felt more open and comfortable.  She even told a joke: "Don't have phone sex; you might get hearing AIDS!"  Meanwhile, the band sounded as smooth and strong as they did a couple of hours earlier, and the enclosed space seemed to give the music more concentrated force.  The dance floor filled up early on and stayed full for the duration of the set.

Radiation City closed out the show at Neurolux.  Their shiny tunes, chiming guitar and misty keyboard sounded just as dreamy, but their lithe, bouncy rhythm section sounded much funkier and more rocking than I remembered.  Also, while I'm loath to call someone's singing "soulful" (really, the word gets used way too damn often), Elisabeth Ellison's moans, coos and wails all but demand it.  "Heart of Glass" would've made more sense coming from them than from Sallie Ford.  Given the savvy elusiveness of their lyrics, however, "Happiness is a Warm Gun" worked just as well.

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

Demoni and Wilt Chamberlin's Baby @ Liquid (12/24/12)

A lot of people, I imagine, spent this last Christmas Eve off at church, at home with their loved ones or even just in front of their TV's watching It's a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th Street or A Christmas Story for the umpteenth time.  Me, I found myself at home itching for something to do, so I decided to check out this show down at Liquid.  I'll leave it up to you to decide how sad that is.

Seriously, this show interested me because it represented a variety of firsts.  Not only would I get to write about two local groups for the first time, I'd get to cover a show at Liquid and a show set up by local label 1332 Records for the first time.  Besides, my family's favorite Christmas movie was always Die Hard, and I don't have a copy of it right now (have to remedy that...).

I counted about ten people at Liquid when I arrived, including Jennifer Orr of ORRiginal Promotions.  A few more would show up over the course of the night, including Justin Cantrell of the Shredder, Jason Rucker of the Useless/Third Base and the lead singer of Piranhas.  Fit audience let me find and all that.

Wilt Chamberlin's Baby opened the show.  This trio backed up their catchy pop-punk tunes with raspy vocals, buzzsaw guitar, melodious basslines and muscular, offhandedly ornate drumwork.  Impressive stuff.  Between songs, drummer J.R.'s oddball banter established him as possibly the goofiest bastard in southwest Idaho.  He got in a pretty good drum solo too.

His bandmates headed back to the bar during this part here.

Local psychobilly/surf band Demoni played next.  Here I was feeling all proud for noting the influence of the Misfits on their music and their tongue-in-cheek menacing vibe when I see that they list them on their Facebook page.  That's the arrogance of critics for ya.  Anyway, this group's soaring, metallic guitar, rumbling stand-up bass and rip-roaring drums demolished any qualms that I may have had about going out on Christmas Eve.  So did their high-energy stage act.

You can find info on these groups and 1332 Records on Facebook and elsewhere online.

The Reverend Peyton's Big Damn Band and Poke @ Neurolux (10/30/12)

The Reverend Peyton's Big Damn Band had rolled through Boise at least once before (I wanna say two or three times, actually), but I'd never gotten to see them.  The name stuck in my head because... well, it's a pretty cool name.  So, when I saw that they'd be playing this show, I marked it down on the calendar.

I estimated at least sixty or seventy people at Neurolux when I arrived.  The crowd looked a bit older than usual: I'd put the average age at mid-forties or early fifties.  Good to see that it ain't just the youngsters who are getting hip to Radio Boise.

First up this night was local band Poke.  Their tongue-in-cheek take on rockabilly boom-chicka-boom was pleasant enough if a bit faceless.  B-Rad's stolid baritone, Diesel's straight-ahead standup bass and Smokin' J's sturdy drumming went over well enough with the crowd even if no one took up B-Rad's invitation to dance (some folks off to the side of the stage did do some bouncing on the balls of their feet).  Much more than good enough: Johnny Shoes's undulant, on-point lead guitar.

The Reverend Peyton's Big Damn Band (man, it's even fun to type that) took the stage next.  Where Poke seemed to nibble at the edges of their roots-music influences, this Bean Blossom, IN band sank their teeth in and chewed.  Hyperkinetic country-blues guitar, sinuous washboard and locomoting drums collided with rowdy vocals and sly, goofy lyrics.  Their manic hoedowns, warm banter and cartoonish stage act got the crowd whooping and hollering.  Shtick wasn't all they had going for them, though: the Reverend Peyton called time out at one point to educate the audience about his unique, resolutely old-school finger-picking style.  They knew and loved the blues well enough to pay it the tribute of irreverence.  Wicked fun.

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

Bridgeport, The Country Club and the Roy Kay Trio @ Neurolux (6/26/12)

Due to Wilco and Blitzen Trapper performing this same night, attendance was kinda sparse for this week's Radio Boise Tuesday at Neurolux.  I opted to check out the latter show because 1) I haven't listened to Wilco all that much (I know, I know, I will at some point...), 2) I didn't really have the money anyway, and 3) I was intrigued by the flyer I'd seen of the Roy Kay Trio dressed up as 40's/50's country stars (sequin shirts, etc.).

I spent about an hour or so hanging around Neurolux, drinking water and reading The Turnaround by George Pelecanos.  Incidentally, if you like gritty, realistic mystery/suspense stories (Dennis Lehane, The Wire, like that), check out some of Pelecanos's stuff.  I've read his other two most recent novels and thought they were fantastic--100% bullshit-free in terms of both style and content.  I just have to share a brief passage from The Turnaround about John D. Macdonald and then I'll get to the music:

He had started on the usual stoner lit, Heinlein, Tolkein, Hermann Hesse, and the like, and moved on to mystery and pulp.  He became infatuated by the Travis McGee books by John D. Macdonald, though even at the age of nineteen he recognized them as the ultimate male fantasy, write large.  No job, no family ties, life on a houseboat, the freedom to kill your enemies, the convenient death of lovers, allowing you to move on to the next Playboy-quality piece of ass... But the writing was clean and addictive.

Damn.  Right on the money.

First up this night was Bridgeport, the project of local musician Steven Palin.  His music had a good beat when he performed solo, but it really blasted off when The Ratings Battle/Godcrotch's Josh Gross and The Maladroids' Christian McKenna joined him on drums and bass.  Throughout his set, his gentle, boyish tenor provided the perfect vehicle for his super-catchy folk-pop melodies and lyrics of romance just starting up or just turning sour.


On one song, Palin brought up my friend Keesha Renna to sing harmony (which she did quite well).  As usual, the quality of this picture sucks, but I do think it conveys the cuteness of the moment.

After Bridgeport came The Country Club, a local trio featuring Sun Blood Stories' Ben Kirby on bass.  They sounded a little rough at some points, but punk and Neil Young fan that I am, that didn't bother me unduly.  Mostly, I was grateful for the chance to hear some old-school country waltz and boom-chicka-boom live.  Ben Kirby provided steady Marshall Grant-style support and chipped in with some good harmonies, Dave Manion's guitar workouts indicated that the man knows his Merle Haggard records, and Jonah Shue's weathered, nasally singing put the humourous, finely detailed lyrics across quite nicely.  I'd put his original (I think) doing-time song "Plastic Flowers" up there with John Prine's "Christmas in Prison."   Also, I had to give them bonus points for covering not just Hank Williams but Lefty Frizzell.

The Seattle-based Roy Kay Trio closed out the night's music.  These guys emulated that spartan 50's rockabilly sound so well that I could half picture them recording for Sun Records back in the day.  Their playing was tighter than Colonel Parker's cummerbund, their harmonies recalled the Everly brothers and their original songs held up fine against their cover of Hank Williams's "The Blues Come Around."  Roy Kay's confident, friendly croon fit the songs like a glove, Robin Cady flawlessly slapped out the beat on his stand-up bass and Mike Geglia's stunning guitar solos might have gotten a thumbs-up from James Burton himself.

Happily, a fair amount of folks headed down to Neurolux after Wilco finished in time to catch the Roy Kay Trio.  Mr. Kay mentioned at one point that it had been a couple years since they'd last played in Boise.  I hope that they'll come back around sometime soon.

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