Angel Olsen, Villages and There Is No Mountain @ Neurolux (4/16/13)

I was curious about Angel Olsen, but what really attracted me to this show was There Is No Mountain, a Portland-based group formerly known as the Ascetic Junkies.  I caught their show at the Flying M last July and liked them very much.  Since then, I'd listened to their recordings, and my fondness had only deepened.

I counted a little over thirty people at Neurolux when I arrived.  The audience would grow to about thirty-six or thirty-seven over the course of the evening.  Fairly typical for a Radio Boise Tuesday.  I did appreciate, though, that most of the crowd chose to sit or stand close to the stage.

There Is No Mountain opened the show.  I'll admit that their name change made me sad at first (seriously, just take a moment and think about the brilliant irony of the name "Ascetic Junkies").  Anyway, since they sounded every bit as sweet and smart as they did back in July, I got over my grief pretty quickly.  What's more, thanks to the stomping beats and nimble, good-enough-for-metal riffing of their newer material, they rocked harder.  Matt Harmon's gliding, Michael Buble-esque croon complemented Kali Giaritta's clean, strong, subtly sultry voice like Tracy and Hepburn.  Also, I'm more than ever convinced that "Good News" is one of the greatest songs I've heard in my life.  I could explain why here, but I think I'll save that for my review of their new album, which will be coming soon.

Up next was experimental group Villages.  From Tracy and Hepburn to David Lynch: this Asheville, NC act's waves of drones, tinkles, hisses and whooshes was by turns ominous, soothing and overpowering.  The audience's attention wavered during this set, but a handful of folks kept their eyes and/or ears locked on the stage.

Angel Olsen closed out the night.  This Chicago musician and her backing band made me think of a group I've always wanted to like more, the Cowboy Junkies.  Everything I've heard by them (the Junkies, that is) has sounded real purty, and I do like my moody, rootsy stuff, but yeesh--would it kill them to lighten up a little?  I mean, for crying out loud, even Townes Van Zandt cracked his fair share of jokes.

Anyway, with her resolutely blank expression and suppressed-sob singing, Olsen came off as a touch or three too solemn and self-serious for my taste.  Still, she did sound real purty.  So did her band's jangling riffs, serene cello, stately beats and dash of Velvet Underground drone.  Also, when Olsen turned up the heat a little on her vocals, she got a nice Dusty-in-Nashville feel going.  And I'll note for the record that the crowd's appreciation seemed much more unequivocal than mine: about twenty people lined up along the edge of the dance floor and hung on Olsen's every sigh.

(Sidenote: I just listened to a song off the Cowboy Junkies' latest album entitled "F*ck, I Hate the Cold."  Its lyrics live up to its title.  Guess there's hope for everybody...)

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

The Ascetic Junkies and The Hokum Hi-Flyers @ the Flying M Coffee-Garage (7/25/12)

I swear, sometimes it feels like Treefort never ended.  Over the past two or three months, I've seen at least ten out-of-state groups who played there, I've missed a couple more and I know that at least five are coming back very soon (including Tartufi, who plays in or around Boise so often that they oughtta just buy a house here).  The chance to check out The Ascetic Junkies, whose Treefort set I'd missed, attracted me to this show out at Nampa's Flying M.  Also, they've just got one of the coolest names that I've heard in a while (Boom Chick might be their only competition in that regard).

This show had a $5 cover initially, but the organizer for the Flying M's shows, Nathan Walker, decided to make it donation-only due to the low turnout.  That was a smart move, as was his decision to open up the garage so that the folks outside could hear the music.  I dropped $5 in the donation can and parked myself at one of the wooden tables inside.

First up this evening were Scott Knickerbocker and Travis Ward from the Boise group The Hokum Hi-Flyers (and of course, Boise readers will probably also know Ward as the frontman for another group, Hillfolk Noir).  They were only a fraction of the Hi-Flyer's full lineup, Knickerbocker told the audience; they actually have six members currently.  From what I heard, they did just fine with two guys.  Knickerbocker's spirited banjo picking and charming, conversational singing meshed very nicely with Ward's more laconic guitar parts and slightly nasally delivery.  Whether playing their own songs or such old-timey chestnuts as "The Cuckoo," they loved the music wisely enough and well enough not to lay on the cornpone or the sepia tone too thick.  They made me think of those summer evenings of my childhood when my dad would listen to Mountain Stage and A Prairie Home Companion on the radio.

After The Hokum Hi-Flyers came The Ascetic Junkies.  This Portland-based group apparently played with a reduced lineup as well (their website lists a bassist and a drummer), but with Matt Harmon on guitar and Kali Giaritta on keyboard and percussion, they didn't seem to need much more.  I imagine that The Moldy Peaches might sound like this when they grow up a little, take some music lessons and find a good therapist.  Their peppy beat, winsome folk-pop tunes and high, clean voices partook of the childlike whimsy that's an indie staple nowadays, but their skipping, stuttering guitar riffs and runs and their quietly sophisticated arrangements bespoke the best kind of maturity (i.e. confident but not arrogant, experienced but not stodgy).  The same went for their wise, warm and witty lyrics.  My favorite of their many excellent originals was "Good News," a ditty about finding solace in the meaninglessness of existence.  Their set also included an inspired cover of Green Day's "Basket Case" (who knew that song had such great lyrics?).

One thing makes me curious, though.  This was the second group I've seen within a little over a week to cover Tom Waits's "Tango Til They're Sore."  Is this song gonna become as ubiquitous as "Hallelujah"?  I dunno.  Anyway, the Junkies did a good job with that one too.  Considering the dash of jazzy sultriness in Kali Giaritta's singing, though, I wonder what they could do with "Temptation."

You can find info on these groups on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Nathan Walker and the Flying M for letting me take pictures with a halfway decent camera.