The Soft White Sixties, Sun Blood Stories and Northern Giants @ Neurolux (7/28/13)

In a way, I'd been waiting for this show for about nine months.  I'd seen the Soft White Sixties each time that they'd played Boise, and I'd walked away from each show convinced that they were a great band.  So I put this show on the schedule the second after I saw the Facebook event page for it.

I counted about forty-five people when I got to Neurolux.  When the Soft White Sixties played, I counted about eighty, sixty of whom were inside.  Part of me wondered if my little preview for this show helped bring some of these folks down, but that was probably just hubris.

Anyway, I bought a copy of the Sixties' new album Get Right as soon as I arrived.  As I took it back to my car (didn't want to risk having it stolen or damaged), I saw and heard Andy Rayborn practicing outside.

Northern Giants (formerly known as Modesto) opened the show.  At first, they sounded terrific: grinding metal, swaggering funk, terse solos, more nuanced vocals.  After a while, however, the songs started to blur together in spite of the sharp arrangements and solid chops.  I love my RAWK as much as the next guy, but this felt like a bit too much of a good thing.  Maybe these guys could vary it up some.  A couple soulful 5/6 numbers, perhaps?  Or some folky, acoustic stuff?

Sun Blood Stories played next.  I don't quite know why, but this group sounded colder, darker, more menacing here than they have in the past.  At times, I coulda almost sworn I was listening to Sabbath.  That wasn't a bad thing, I think--it could've just been a sign of how polished and confident that they've become.  In any case, Brett Hawkins added some nice little embellishments to his drum-work, and Amber Pollard showed off a pretty fearsome growl.  Meanwhile, Ben Kirby's gritty moan and yowling slide and Andy Rayborn's screeching sax sounded as strong as ever.

The Soft White Sixties's set confirmed my belief that this is one of the best modern rock bands.  While he slid all over the stage and yanked the mic stand around a la James Brown, Octavio Genera's raspy, honeyed croon evoked Al Green's sly tenderness.  Between the locked-in groove, the new guitarist's ripping solos and touches like the bass-and-drums breakdown on "Knock It Loose," Genera's bandmates sounded more than ready to play larger venues.  The band's smart blend of pop, soul and hard rock got the crowd dancing and cheering (especially the girls).

I sure will miss the days when you could see the Sixties play for $6.  There can't be many left.

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.

Tango Alpha Tango, Sun Blood Stories and Modesto @ Neurolux (6/11/13)

I saw Tango Alpha Tango at Tom Grainey's last year.  I'd started a blog only six days prior and didn't have a clear conception for it.  As I listened to them and another Portland band, Violet Isle, a light bulb went off over my head.  "Hey," I thought, "why don't I write about these guys?"  The rest is history.

So when I saw that Tango Alpha Tango would be returning to Boise, I didn't care that I'd seen all of the acts on the bill before.  I immediately gave the show a spot on the calendar.

I counted over thirty people when I got to Neurolux.  When Tango Alpha Tango played, there were about fifty, thirty of whom stayed inside.  Not bad.

Modesto opened the show with their best performance yet (that I've seen, anyway).  Their groove struck just the right balance of tight and loose.  Their shifts in dynamics and tempo felt smoother, which rendered their sharp arrangements even more impressive.  And while I could complain that their lyrics still felt a little too generic, songwriting in and of itself seemed a bit beside the point.  Instead, the songs served more as excuses for the thunderous riffs, yowling solos, liquid basslines and sly, slippery drumming to weave with and bounce off each other.  For now, that's enough: more than any band I've heard lately, these guys conveyed the pure joy of making music as a group.

Sun Blood Stories' set proved a bit disconcerting.  Not that they sounded bad; their scorching wah-wah guitar, screeching sax and lumbering, funky grooves sounded as sexy and menacing as ever.  It was just strange to see so few people watching them.  Eh, whatever; there were still a handful of folks getting down, and they got some good applause at the end.  This set featured some pounding, hypnotic new material that should go over well with larger audiences.

Tango Alpha Tango closed out the night and sounded even better than I remembered.  While Nathan Trueb's protean soloing called to mind Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughan once again, his vocals sounded fuller, deeper and defter.  He found strong support in Mirabai Carter-Trueb's unassumingly fluid bass, Aaron Trueb's spooky keyboard and their new drummer's subtle, steady work.  They handled jazzy swing, roiling funk, Zeppelin stomp, country-blues bounce and Crazy Horse chug with equal assurance.  Nathan Trueb promised that they'd come back again.  Judging from the dancing and cheering, I doubt that the crowd will mind.  I sure won't.

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

A Hawk and a Hacksaw, Phantahex and Fleet Street Klezmer Band @ Neurolux; Sun Blood Stories @ the Crux (6/6/13)

Initially, I'd thought about covering Sun Blood Stories' fundraiser show at the Crux; they're one of my favorite local bands right now, and I wanted to support their efforts to get their new album out.  In the end, however, this Neurolux show was too intriguing to pass up.  I mean, Phantahex and Fleet Street Klezmer Band on the same bill?  I had to hear how that would play out.

I counted about twenty-five people when I got to Neurolux.  I counted over fifty when the headliner, A Hawk and a Hacksaw, played.  Half of that number chose to hang out on the patio, but that still made for a decent enough audience.

Fleet Street Klezmer Band opened the show.  I've seen this group quite a few times and enjoyed each performance, so it surprises me that I hadn't noticed before how good a singer Shlomo Kostenko is.  That may be because their Romanian/Russian/gypsy tunes tend to call for a certain amiable roughness; they work better if he sounds like some dude from your village who just got up to sing a song.  Certain moments here, however, allowed Kostenko to show the power of his baritone moan--its strength, its range, its sonorousness.  Meanwhile, the rapport between his rock-steady strumming, Victoria Kostenko's gliding violin and Matthew Vorhies's jaunty accordion felt especially strong.  Drummer Alfonso Sanchez stumbled more than a few times but generally got back on the beat quick enough.  Last but not least, Cecilia Rinn pitched in with some pleasant finger cymbal and some lissome belly-dancing.

Phantahex played next.  In with the old, in with the new.  This set featured Tristan Andreas playing a monochord again as well as a continuation of the tuneful, rhythmic bent of this duo's Red Room set back in January.  The jittery, booming beats and the spare, somber melodies made the hisses and screeches stand in sharper relief.  Grant Olsen's detached, auto-tuned vocals made the mixture even more haunting.  Abrasive yet accessible.  Both cool as in brrr and cool as in whoa.

Next up was A Hawk and a Hacksaw.  This Albuquerque duo's ersatz, postmodern mashup of various world musics--Balkan, Klezmer, Arabian, a little Buddhist chant and taiko drumming (I think)--helped the pairing of such disparate openers make a bit more sense.  I wondered at first if this was all a big hipster joke--an evocation of community and solidarity undercut by a smug, savvier-than-thou obscurantism.  Heather Trost's frantic, zipping violin and Jeremy Barnes's scurrying accordion work did little to ease my misgivings, impressive though they both were.  However, as the set progressed from a stolid anthem to some lively, buzzing, poly-rhythmic material, they started to win me over.  It was as if they wanted to take you from an institutionalized or state-imposed vision of community to the flesh-and-blood experience of it.  Or maybe I just appreciate dance-beats much more than accordions.  In any case, the crowd was with them right from the start.  By A Hawk and a Hacksaw's encore, which they played unplugged among the people on the dance floor, I was with them too.

After the Neurolux show wrapped, I swung by the Crux in time to catch the tail-end of Sun Blood Stories' set.  The place was as crowded as I'd hoped, and the performance was as ass-whomping as I'd expected.  Some psychedelic montages courtesy of Jason Willford upped the intensity level a notch.  What with all the painted faces, all the roars of applause and all the used clothes, books and tapes on a table in the back, the band hopefully made enough money to get their new album, The Electric Years, out.  But even if they did, you should go to their web store and contribute because dammit, their very presence here makes this town twice as sexy.

You can find info on these acts 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 whatever you can.  Even $5 would help. And special thanks to Tristan Andreas for looking up A Hawk and a Hacksaw's cimbalom and stroh violin on his smartphone.

Starskate, the Hoot Hoots, JamesPlaneWreck and Sun Blood Stories @ the Red Room (4/26/12)

I'd liked what I'd heard by the Hoot Hoots but missed them at Treefort, so this show caught my interest right off the bat.  And sure, I've seen Sun Blood Stories and JamesPlaneWreck more than a few times, but it ain't like I can't stand to see 'em again.

I grew a little concerned when I got down to the Red Room and found only seven people there.  "On a warm Friday evening in Spring?" I thought.  "What is this town coming to?"  Thankfully, the crowd would build to over fifty as the night wore on.

Sun Blood Stories opened the night.  I don't know if their Country & Western look (sequined shirt, bolo tie, Mexican dress) was a tip of the hat to the late George Jones, but regardless, they sounded in excellent form. Amber Pollard's vocals sounded especially fine--gal's got some heat in her voice.  Not that Ben Kirby got caught slacking: he worked his purr and growl with even more nuance than usual.  Meanwhile, Kirby's primal riffs and shrieking solos, Brett Hawkins's lumbering drums and Andy Rayborn's cooing, bleating sax fell into an easy, seemingly effortless groove.  The sound was just clear enough and just murky enough to create a nice, sweaty Exile on Main St. feel.  I'll admit, though, that I kinda missed seeing this group on a big stage.  Oh well.  All in good time, I'm sure.

JamesPlaneWreck played next and kept the ball rolling.  Aaron Smith and Shane Brown's vocals were strong and on-key (the soundboard work did right by them too: I don't think Brown's voice has ever sounded clearer).  Their guitars snarled, Shaun Shireman's bass zoomed down the tracks and I'm still amazed that Andrew Bagley's arms don't just fly off his body.  Sure, they hit a few sour notes, but with music so proudly down-and-dirty, you almost want a few sour notes.  In any case, the crowd whooped and boogied throughout and sang the chorus to "Fuckin' With Ghosts" good and loud.  A couple people told me during the set that JPW is their favorite local band.  Can't fault 'em for that.

Up next were the Hoot Hoots.  This Seattle band could've gotten over just fine on their slashing guitar, bouncy beats and mega-catchy tunes.  However, with the addition of Christina Ellis's 8-bit synthesizer and hilarious pantomiming and dance moves (the Monkey!), they were utterly irresistible.  Of course, the jokey, horny, snarky lyrics didn't hurt either.  Their music had a slight 60's pop-rock feel to it, but they felt much smarter and warmer than your average revivalist/appropriator.  Except maybe for Andy D or Bad Weather California, I can't remember the last act I saw that was so much straight-up fun.

Apparently, Andy Rayborn got so carried away with his dancing during this set that he accidentally punched Amber Pollard and Nathan Norton in the mouth.  Always gotta watch the quiet ones...

Starskate closed out the night.  This Oakland band wasn't quite as enjoyable as the Hoot Hoots, but their rough vocals, rousing tunes, buzzing guitars and angular, robotic rhythms still provided a solid finale to the night.  The crowd thinned out some, but about thirty people stayed to cheer these guys on as they jumped and lunged on the stage.

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 in the upper right-hand corner and donate whatever you can.  Even $5 can go a long way.

Negative Approach, Bad Antics, Raid and 1d @ the Venue; Sun Blood Stories and Ronnie and the Reagans @ the High Note Cafe (2/15/13)

I was seriously pumped for this show when I first heard about it.  Initially, the headliner was OFF!, the current project of former Black Flag/Circle Jerks frontman Keith Morris.  Then word spread that they had canceled the gig due to health issues and that tickets would be refunded.  That bummed me out in a big way.  Not long afterwards, however, I received word that the other acts on the bill would still play.  Since a couple folks whose taste in music I respect were more excited to see Negative Approach than OFF! anyway (they've got a pretty impressive history too), I said what the hell and headed over to the Venue.

I only counted about twenty people in the crowd when I arrived.  That number would build to about fifty-six or fifty-seven as the night progressed.  Not the number that would've turned out for Keith Morris, I imagine, but respectable enough.

Local hardcore band 1d opened the show.  Their buzzing and squealing guitar, their rumbling basslines and their flailing drums all sounded sharper here than they did at the Rich Hands show.  Nonetheless, their yelping-dog vocals, manic stage presence and haphazardly constructed songs still felt too rote and received.  Granted, it's a bit unfair to ask a bunch of teenagers to have all their crap figured out.  Also, the fact that they're getting out there and doing something like this is probably a good in itself.  Maybe I'm just getting cranky and impatient in my old age.

Local band Raid played next.  See?  I'm not that hard to please.  It's enough for me if you at least create the impression of coherence.  I caught exactly one lyric out of this entire set: "I WON'T GO QUIET!"  They weren't howling Dixie there.  But anyway, the solid rapport between their buzzsaw guitar, twangy bass and rampaging drums persuaded me that the songs would make sense with the volume turned down.  It helped too that their songs showed some sturdy construction and that their lead singer could bellow loud enough and clear enough that I could kinda make out the words.

Bad Antics, a four-piece outfit from Placentia, CA (it's to the northeast of Anaheim), played next.  I thought about describing Raid as hyperkinetic, but then I heard these guys and figured I oughtta save the adjective for them.  This band's piercing scream, furious drums, greased-lightning bass and face-melting guitar called to mind Motorhead's joyous relentlessness.  With all his strutting and hair flailing, their lead singer showed enough energy for two mortal frontmen.  The crowd matched him pretty well even if some of the folks in the moshpit started to wilt near the end.  Oh, and in case you were wondering what the lead singer's face looks like...

You're welcome.

Negative Approach closed out the night.  This old-school hardcore act didn't fool much with your standard jerky tempo shifts.  Maybe they figured that that crap would dilute their rage.  The only thing more fearsome than frontman John Brannon's slit-eyed glower was his blood-curdling growl.  His bandmates backed him up with some machine-gun drumming and yowling guitar noise.  As brutal and unyielding as their music was, however, they still managed to work in some tunes and a groove.  The crowd became a maelstrom of moshing, roaring and crowd-surfing during this set.  Brannon seemed to express his approval with a curt nod. Coming from him, that was downright heartwarming.

After Negative Approach wrapped up, I swung by the High Note Cafe to see if I could catch part of the show there.  I counted over fifty people, which made this far and away the best-attended show that I've seen at this place.  I managed to catch the tail end of Idaho Falls band Ronnie and the Reagans' set.  What I heard sounded pretty good: an arty, slightly skewed take on blues, folk and country.  Have to watch out for these guys in the future.

Sun Blood Stories played next.  The body heat was all-consuming as the enraptured crowd hollered and grooved to the hot molasses of the band's blues-rock.  The strobe light flickering behind the band added to the set's psychedelic feel.  Primal, sexy stuff.  Prophetic too--I just know that this is what it's gonna be like at Treefort.

photo by Keesha Renna

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

Hopeless Jack & the Handsome Devil and Sun Blood Stories @ the Crux (12/5/12)

I had actually planned to stay in this night--had some projects for the day job that I wanted to put some work into.  Then I remembered that Keesha Renna's Vagabond Promotions had set up a special blues night at the Crux featuring hard-rocking Portland duo Hopeless Jack and the Handsome Devil.  After a bit of deliberation, I said, "Screw it.  The day job is always with you."

I counted a little over forty people when I got down to the Crux.  I arrived in time to observe a blues dance lesson that Keesha had helped arrange.  Looking back, starting the night with this was a brilliant move: it got the crowd pumped up and ready to dance by the time that the bands started playing.

Unfortunately, I couldn't stay for the entire night.  My disregard of the day job goes only so far.  Still, apologies to Matt Stone and Indecisive.

Sun Blood Stories kicked off the night's live music.  Their languorous grooves, slippery basslines and fiery guitar were exactly what the situation called for, and they all sounded in excellent form.  Ben Kirby worked his smoky, aching drawl so deftly that I'm now convinced he's one of the best singers in town.  Amber Pollard's girly backup vocals complemented Kirby's low moan nicely, and her tamborine helped accentuate the beat.  Drummer Brett Hawkins swung and stomped as if daring the crowd not to dance.  And in addition to playing bass, Andy Rayborn wandered amongst the crowd and let rip some wailing saxophone solos.

Hopeless Jack and the Handsome Devil played next.  This set emphasized slightly slower-tempo material than has been their norm, but that just encouraged the crowd to keep dancing.  It also showed that this duo is built for comfort and for speed.  Hopeless Jack Biesel's baritone growl sounded as ferocious as ever but also showed increased nuance and soulfulness.  Smilin' Pete Thomas worked a new ease and swing into his drumming without sacrificing any of his brute force.  It only took a handful of songs to get most of the audience on their feet.  By the time that HJ & THD played their full-throttle finale, just about everybody was dancing, clapping and whooping.  Friggin' glorious.

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