Hollow Wood, Psycho Adorable and Ancient Psychic Tandem War Elephant @ the Crux (11/3/13)

A few days prior to this show, my now ex-girlfriend Jenn (long story, don't wanna get into it here) heard a song by Hollow Wood on Radio Boise and loved it.  She couldn't believe that a band like that was local, she said.  So when I told her about this concert, she readily agreed to check it out.  This worked out well all around, since the show gave me the chance to see Psycho Adorable's first performance back from their 11-week tour and to see the fantastically named Ancient Psychic Tandem War Elephant for the first time.

I counted over 50 people when I arrived at the Crux.  I saw some of my now former Exposition/Noisefan Music News colleagues (short answer: my connection with the Weekly made my continued association with NFMN untenable), Aaron Christensen (Mt. Joy), Samwise Carlson (Woodwind) and various scene regulars.  Jenn showed up midway through APTWE's set.

While I waited for the music to start, Amber Pollard's daughter Aubrey (possibly one of the most adorable children in the Treasure Valley) ran past me.  "Hi Ben!" she said.  She circled around and ran past me again.  "Hi Ben!" she said again.  Thinking about this now, I still smile.

Ancient Psychic Tandem War Elephant--which turned out to be Brett Hawkins's solo act backed by his brother Taylor on drums and Sun Blood Stories' Ben Kirby on bass--opened the show.  I liked Hawkins fine with just a guitar, but he got farther with a little help from his friends.  With Taylor Hawkins' steady beat and Kirby's viscous bass giving them support, Brett Hawkins' droning riffs had greater force and his vocals greater confidence.  Also welcome were Judah Claffey and Austin Lucas' maudlin violins (that there Lucas can play).  The set's earlier songs took me back to the days when "Creep" played on MTV.  The later songs sounded like Daniel Johnston having a drink with Jimmy Reed.

Psycho Adorable played next.  Their debut performance back in August left me with mixed feelings; it certainly wasn't bad, but it wasn't the fusion of styles and spirits I'd hoped for.  The bond between Bronwyn Leslie and Kelsey Swope felt much stronger here.  Even their outfits seemed to complement each other--grandma-ish blue house-dress and white mesh sweater for Leslie, grandpa-ish short-sleeve blouse and baggy gray trousers for Swope.  Also, while she's never seemed like a pushover (I saw her one time dressed as Kathleen Hanna), Swope gave off a much tougher vibe than last I'd seen her.  On the numbers where she took lead, her vocals sounded rougher.  On the ones where Leslie took lead, Swope stood and hovered (protectively?) over her partner while singing backup.

I'd be interested to hear more about their experiences on the road.  And I'll definitely be interested to hear what they come up with from here, together or individually.

Hollow Wood closed out the night.  Speaking of tougher, this group rocked a lot harder than last I saw them.  I don't know if Adam Jones was trying to channel Clint Eastwood with his poncho, but between the grinding guitars, the vrooming bass and the bubbling beats, the music almost channeled Zeppelin at times.  The vocals and the lyrics were edgier too ("OMG!" I thought. "Did they REALLY just say, 'I could f*ck a virgin'!?").  For me, everything came to a head with the dance-y number about 100 years full of pain and fear.  Instead of sounding trepidatious or despairing, the band barreled ahead as if they couldn't wait to enter the fray.  Sounded as melodious as ever too.  God bless 'em.  And Godspeed.

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

a.k.a. Belle, Brett Hawkins, Calico and Woodwind @ the Crux (11/1/13)

This show was a two-birds-one-stone opportunity for me and my lady-friend: it gave us the chance to see a show at the Crux, which she hadn't done before, and to see a.k.a. Belle, about whom I'd chewed off a decently sized portion of her ear.  As an added bonus, this gave us the chance to show some support for Go Listen Boise, who had teamed up with Heather Roberts's Ten Gallon Cat to make this show part of the former's Local Music Spree.

I counted about nineteen people when we got to the Crux.  The crowd looked mostly on the younger side (early 20's or under, I'd guess).  When a.k.a. Belle soundchecked, the crowd numbered about forty and looked mostly middle-aged.  By the way, the woman in the black-and-white striped blouse is Jenn Siegel, my lady-friend.  It's hard to tell from this distance, but she's pretty gorgeous.  She'll probably appear fairly regularly in future blog posts.

Woodwind opened the show.  Back when my friend Keesha Renna ran the Crux's open mic, I saw a young gentleman perform.  He played one song that blew me away--lovely folk melody; clean, boyish tenor; understated, pained lyrics.  Made me think a little of Nick Drake or maybe Ronnie Lane.  I'd wondered in the months that followed what that guy was up to.  When local newcomer Samwise Carlson played his finale, it hit me: "Holy crap, it's him!"  That last song's melody sounded just as beautiful as I'd remembered, and Carlson's other tunes were almost as pretty.  The stray lyrics that I caught didn't sound too bad either.  Now that I have a name to attach to him, I'll be sure to keep my eye on him in the future.

Calico played next.  I worked the Record Exchange's merch booth when this young group played Alive After Five.  As I recall, they sold about seventy copies of their debut EP, which NEVER happens with a local act.  It's worth noting too that Calico's song "In Our Town" supplied the name for Boise 150's special CD compilation.

Now, do these achievements mean that Calico will be the next big thing for Boise music?  I wouldn't say that.  I would say, however, that they definitely have potential.  Their rhythms could use some livening up, and they come across as a little too solemn and serious right now (so people will take them seriously?).  Still, their melodies are unfailingly pretty, they've got some impressive poise and lead singer Ruby Somoza has the warmth, smarts, sass and straight-up charisma of a natural front-person.

Sun Blood Stories' Brett Hawkins played a surprise 20-minute set of his solo material after Calico.  Hard to tell if he's affected or not, Jenn said of his bone-simple guitar picking, saccharine folk-country tunes, reedy vocals and oddball, sardonic lyrics.  She also noticed that his shirt was buttoned wrong.  Like a drunken uncle playing songs for you, she added later (she meant that in the best possible way).  That trumps everything I had, so I'll just move along.  (And you wonder why I'm crazy about this woman.)

a.k.a. Belle kicked off their set with the premiere of their music video for "Mess You Up," a track from their new album (hopefully coming in February 2014).  It's a cute, funny bit of stop-motion animation created by Catherine Merrick herself.  I grinned when I caught a reference to an old Sam Merrick song (or was it band?), "Don't Pass Up the Chance to See Neil Young."

In the interests of transparency, I should probably mention that Catherine Merrick and I are co-workers now; she works at the Edge (the Record Exchange's coffee shop), and I work at the Record Exchange's main register.  I should mention as well that Catherine tipped me off that the Record Exchange was hiring and recommended me to the owners (I didn't ask her to do that; she just heard that they were looking for a music-savvy individual and thought of me).  Readers will make of that what they will, of course, but I've been praising Catherine since well before we started working together.  And unless she starts to suck, which seems highly unlikely, I don't see any reason to stop doing so.

Anyway, I don't know if everybody drank some coffee beforehand or what, but the band seemed more amped up than usual.  Chris Galli's bass-playing seemed especially fluid and nimble this night (I spotted him nursing some kind of warm beverage earlier).  Whatever the reason, they went a long way towards helping Jenn understand why I love this band so much.  Louis McFarland was as strong and swinging as ever (got off a badass solo on the Link Wray-esque instrumental "Here Come the Deathtraps").  Sam Merrick ripped it up on guitar and joked it up between songs, the latter of which got a great eye-roll and an Oh-God-he's-an-idiot-but-I-love-him look from his wife at one point.  As for Catherine Merrick, I've called her the best singer in Idaho before, right?  Yes?  Okay, I'll just move along, then...

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

Bad Weather California, Sauna, Skating Polly and Deaf Kid @ The Crux (8/18/13)

Bad Weather California was one of my favorite acts at this year's Treefort.  Sauna was one of my favorites from last year's.  So it didn't take me long to decide to check this show out.

I counted eighteen people when I got down to the Crux.  When Bad Weather California played, I counted twenty-seven.  Not exactly a Treefort-size audience, but what're you gonna do?

Sidenote: this may be the most awesome show poster that I've ever seen.

Deaf Kid opened the show.  They changed their name to Black Lodge a while ago, but apparently, they changed it back.  I don't know why, but whatever--they sounded damn good here.  Jacob Milburn's voice sounded deeper and fuller, and Theo Maughan's sprightly drumming gave the music some extra muscle.  Even got a pretty solid groove going on the last song.

Skating Polly played next.  If you're not even eighteen and you can get Exene Cervenka to produce one of your albums, chances are you're gonna have something going on.  Which this very young duo did.  Their grungy drones, steady drums, screeching vocals and smart arrangements made me think a little of early Sleater-Kinney.  Their confident stage presence suggests that they may be in this for the long haul.  Time will tell, I guess.

Sauna followed Skating Polly.  It took them a couple of songs to get warmed up, but when they did, their serene vocals, playful tunes, propulsive grooves and fierce guitar solos sounded even better than I remembered.  The girls from Skating Polly went nuts (jumping, headbanging), and much of the crowd followed suit.  Easily one of the most fun surf/garage bands I've seen in the past couple of years (and I've seen a LOT of them).

Bad Weather California closed out the night.  At one point, it occurred to me that James Plane Wreck could've made a good opener for these guys.  Both groups seem to have a certain transcendentally trashy spirit, one which embraces the slackers, losers and working stiffs (i.e. most of us).  In any case, this Colorado band's anthemic tunes, smart lyrics and fiery guitars sounded just as fantastic here as they did back in March.  Would that every surf-garage-punk-etc. band could be this shrewd, this compassionate.

It's just a shame that this'll be their last tour.  But hey, you never know--Sauna said that they were going to break up last year, and look at them.

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

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.

Sama Dams, Catherine Feeny, Judson Claiborne and the Boise Cello Collective @ the Crux (6/22/13)

This night offered cello enthusiasts a couple of options: they could've checked out this Crux show, which featured the Boise Cello Collective, or the Portland Cello Project at the VaC.  I chose the Crux, but not so much because of cellos.  Instead, I'd listened to a couple of songs by Sama Dams and grown intrigued.

There were over fifty people at the Crux when I arrived.  That number would drop by the time that Sama Dams played--that was around 11:30--but about thirty folks still stuck around to see them.  Overall, a good turnout.

I showed up late but got there in time to catch about half of the Boise Cello Collective's set.  I'll admit that this music made a bit nervous at first.  I ain't no classical musics expert, I thought.  How'm I s'posed to write about this?  Thankfully, a few pop song covers helped me find my bearings.  Danika McClure may have leaned a little too hard into an Elliot Smith song, but her high, fluttery voice was quite pleasant nonetheless.  Besides, the other cellists' playing and arrangements were as smart and sensitive as you could've wanted.  It may not have been much of a trick to make the Beatles' "Yesterday" sound pretty, but their Vivaldi-esque retooling of the Who's "Baba O'Riley" impressed me greatly.  Also impressive were a pair of originals by cellist Mark Doubleday that ended the set.  The first was a mellow, swooning number that made me think of a warm autumn day.  The second, which was tenser and more slashing, rubbed the Bernard Herrmann fan in me the right way.

Up next was Chicago/Olympia musician Judson Claiborne.  I couldn't figure out exactly whose voice Claiborne's warm, sturdy tenor reminded me of (Bono without the preening melodrama, maybe?).  In any case, his occasionally cryptic lyrics and his serene yet somehow disquieting tunes made me think a little of Nick Drake.  Claiborne was a good deal tougher, however; I can't picture Nick Drake singing lines like "I been walkin' down the road, / I got piss all over my clothes."  (I think that's what he said, anyway.)

Catherine Feeny played next.  I imagine that Suzanne Vega might sound like this if she hooked up with Joe Strummer.  Feeny's high, eerie wail and spare, tense ukulele lines kicked any hint of twee to the curb, and her Occupy-inspired lyrics drove a stake through its heart ("Calling all souls / Before it's too late / Lie in the way of the police state.").  Her three-piece band backed her up with bright, misty keyboard, funky guitar and delicate, jazzy, propulsive drumming.  The audience applauded Feeny so loudly that they managed to squeeze an encore out of her.

Sama Dams finished the show.  Catherine Feeny was an awfully tough act to follow, but this Portland band managed just fine with their subdued, Thom Yorke-ish wails, hazy guitar, glowing keyboard and supple, jagged beats.  The lyrics that I caught weren't as pointed as Feeny's, but I still found their ominousness plenty agreeable.  A cameo from Sun Blood Stories' Andy Rayborn didn't hurt either.  The crowd stayed in their seats but applauded warmly throughout.

You can find info on these acts 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 whatever you can.  Even $5 would help.

The Very Most, PETS, the Dirty Moogs and Hey V Kay @ the Crux (6/14/13)

I've always liked the Very Most, but I hadn't written about them in over a year.  This show attracted my interest for that reason and also because it celebrated the release of their new EP Just a Pup.  The presence on the bill of the Dirty Moogs, whom I also hadn't written about in a good while, and Hey V Kay, one of my favorite local acts, didn't hurt either.

I counted eleven people when I got to the Crux.  The audience would peak at about forty-five, by my estimate.  The Very Most didn't play until around 11:40, but over thirty people stuck around to watch them.  Pretty good.

Hey V Kay opened the show.  Karen Havey told the crowd up front that she'd come down with a cold and apologized if she sounded nasally.  Given her low, breathy singing style, however, I couldn't hear much of a difference.  Indeed, her voice, her melancholy tunes, her dance-worthy beats and Owen Havey's elegant guitar lines all sounded as irresistible as ever.  "Middle-Class Sweetheart" was as impressive here as it was at Treefort, and a frantic, intricately crafted new number matched both it and the older material.  The cherry on top was a swooning, disco-ish take on Chris Isaak's "Wicked Game."  I've said it before and I'll say it again: Hey V Kay needs to do a covers album.

The Dirty Moogs played next.  In keeping with the Very Most's sunny pop sound, the Moogs opted to twee things up here: tinkling keyboards, purposely dinky beats, even an acoustic guitar.  That the songs held up under the cutesification was a testament to their charm and craftsmanship.  Having Gia Trotter sing harmony on "Julie's an Android" was an especially nice touch.

After a DJ set by Discoma a.k.a. Jake Hite, PETS played.  I can't think of any other group that could call to mind both Beat Happening and the Ohio Players.  Melodic, buoyant basslines and smooth, steady drums anchored ringing guitar and high, murmured vocals.  I couldn't make out all of the lyrics, but what I heard didn't threaten to turn my stomach (not even the song about drinking apple juice).  Twee but funky: a very interesting combination.

Jeremy Jensen dropped a bomb near the end of the Very Most's set: he announced that this might be the band's last live performance ever.  That'd be too bad, but happily, he mentioned afterwards that they still planned to record.  Besides, they picked a good show to go out on.  The groove between Jake Hite's lean, swinging drums, Brion Rushton's driving basslines and the Jensen brothers' elegant, jangling guitars felt as lived-in and comfortable as your favorite sweater.  In addition to her usual gorgeous harmonies, Gia Trotter took the lead on "It's Not Unusual" and brought a nice bit of sultriness to it.  Last but not least, the melodies sounded as sweet and fresh as I remembered.  Congratulations indeed.

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.

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.