New York City Queens, Fort Harrison, St. Helens and Iconoplasty @ the Shredder (2/7/13)

If you're a band from Texas, it takes some chutzpah to call yourselves something like New York City Queens.  That and a couple of songs that I'd heard by them got me interested in checking out this Shredder show.

Unfortunately, nobody else seemed to share my curiosity.  I counted five people when I got to the Shredder. That number included me, Josh Gross's ladyfriend and Bubba, the guy taking the money at the door.  When New York City Queens played, a whopping ten people saw them.  Most of them were members of the other bands.  Oh well.  Hopefully, the people who could've been here were over at Sammy's for their relaunch celebration.

Iconoplasty a.k.a. local writer/musician Josh Gross opened the night.  His stomping 4/4 beats and tapestry of  looped riffs and licks sounded as enjoyable as they did at the San Francesca show back in November.  The various elements didn't always hit exactly on the beat, but that just gave the music an agreeably human feel.

Up next was new local group St. Helens.  This trio's groove was impressively assured, especially considering that this was their second gig ever.  Gentle melodies, lovelorn lyrics and clean, soaring vocals blended with anthemic choruses, quicksilver guitar and muscular, effortlessly intricate drumming.  They had enough chops to maybe give prog a go, but their songwriting was pop-wise enough to keep things from feeling too noodling or indulgent.  The meager crowd called for an encore at the end of this set, but lead singer Mark Jensen reminded them that they were just the openers.  If they keep playing and writing at this level, however, they might not be for too long.

Local band Fort Harrison played next.  I've known of this group for a while, but this was my first time seeing them.  They made quite a first impression: gritty, raspy vocals and harshly elegant guitar fused with sly basslines and nimble, hard-hitting drums.  Their reggae groove was no less impressive than their metal barrage, and their throat-shredding shouts didn't conceal how catchy their tunes were.  They got some well-earned whoops and cheers from the audience.

New York City Queens closed out the night.  Out of the many 60's-70's appropriators that I've seen lately, this group has to be one of the shrewdest.  Their chiming, jangling, clanging, buzzing wall of guitars was equal parts Phil Spector and Sonic Youth.  Their dreamy melodies and angelic harmonies floated over it, their bass wormed under it and their drums punched right through it.  Thunderously fragile--an odd yet beguiling mix.  Even better, their lyrics held up pretty well when I listened to their recordings afterwards.  The only potential liability, recorded or live, was lead singer John Stephens's pinched, affected delivery.  Sometimes, it seemed to suit the material perfectly; at other times, it felt so smarmy that I gritted my teeth.  Regardless, I hope that this group comes back around sometime and plays to a larger audience.

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

Ken Stringfellow and Matt Hopper @ Neurolux (2/5/13)

Prior to this show, I'd never heard of Ken Stringfellow or the band that launched his career, the Posies.  I did some reading up on the man, however, and learned that he'd also played with Big Star and R.E.M.  If a guy can list bands like that on his C.V., I figured, he'll be worth a look at least.  The fact that Matt Hopper, whom I'd heard but never seen, was on the bill as well made this show even more attractive.

I only counted about twenty-three or twenty-four people when I got down to Neurolux.  That number would build to a little over forty during Matt Hopper's set.  Pretty good for a Tuesday, I guess.

Matt Hopper opened the night.  Ken Stringfellow would quip later, "Basically, Matt's a dead ringer for 1971."  He was referring to Hopper's looks (said the man looked like a cross between Big Star's bassist and producer), but he could have been talking about his music too.  With their jangling guitars, slippery basslines, smooth violin and keyboard and light, steady drumming, Hopper and company would've sounded right at home on classic rock radio next to Bob Seger and the Doobie Brothers.  Their finely polished tunes went down very smoothly.  That was the problem.  I kept waiting for the extra little spark in the music or the lyrics that would shoot the material into the realms of John Fogerty, Gram Parsons or, since Stringfellow brought up Big Star, Alex Chilton.  Since it never came, the songs just felt anonymous no matter how thickly Hopper slathered his drawl and yowl on them.  Rays of hope: their pretty sharp cover of Fleetwood Mac's "Dreams" and their closing instrumental vamp on Nirvana's "Come As You Are."

Ken Stringfellow played next.  This man's music certainly didn't want for idiosyncrasy: his songs twisted and turned and meandered well past what should have been their breaking points.  Since his melodies were so gorgeous and pop-savvy, however, they held together and pulled the audience along with them.  The words poured out of Stringfellow so quickly that I barely had time to notice how clever they were.  He probably would've gotten by on his music alone, but his friendly and irrepressibly playful stage presence made him irresistible.  He moved a mic down to the dance floor to sing among the crowd, he sang a lovely duet with Larkspur/Spondee's Gia Trotter, he teasingly tried to faze Ashley the server by barking (it didn't work) and he cracked jokes throughout ("God said, 'I'll see you in court!'  The devil said, 'Where do you think you'll find the lawyers?'").  He made at least one new fan this night.

You can find info on Matt Hopper and Ken Stringfellow on Facebook and elsewhere online.  Special thanks to Eric Gilbert and Radio Boise.

Wovenhand, Eluder and Grandma Kelsey @ the VaC (2/2/13)

The copy on the Facebook invite for this show stated that Wovenhand's music "is an experience so visceral and so universally disorienting, [sic] that one has to take note."  If there's one thing that I've learned while writing this blog, it is never to trust a musician's ad copy.  Still, I'd never seen Wovenhand before, so I decided to check this show out.

I grew alarmed when I got to the VaC at 8 pm (the start time on the invite) and saw only ten or eleven people hanging out.  Happily, the show didn't actually start until 9, which allowed the crowd to build to about forty-five.  That was still kinda small for a Saturday night show, though (not to mention one advertised in the Boise Weekly).  Maybe the wicked fog made people wary of making the drive over.  Couldn't blame 'em for that: I could barely see more than fifteen feet in front of me on my way down.

Grandma Kelsey opened the show.  She'd had a rough day, to put it mildly: she told the crowd that she'd not only gotten dumped but gone to a close friend's funeral earlier.  If these misfortunes affected her performance, however, they just made her lean harder into her steady strumming and warm, purring vocals.  They certainly put her more touchy-feely material in a new light--it takes a certain clarity and firmness of mind to sing about the circle of life after a day like this.  In addition to playing her more familiar stuff, Kelsey Swope unveiled a moving new song about Gregory Rawlins showing her the spot where he'd scattered his son's ashes.  All in all, a wonderful performance.  I just wonder if anyone found the stuffed animal that Swope had hid somewhere in the VaC (she said she does something like that every time she plays there).

Up next was Eluder a.k.a. local musician Pat Benolkin.  Instead of delivering some smooth beats a la Lamont Kohner, Benolkin ventured out into straight-up avant-garde territory.  Waves of drones, hisses, scrapes, whirrs, crackles, clicks, rumbles and pings washed over the audience.  The mood would shift at various times from soothing to disquieting to menacing to overbearing, but a calm, meditative quality ran though the music and held it together.  Some misterioso montages (explosions, spinning planets, glowing grids and shapes, neon ovals, static, negative images of people) played in conjunction with the music.  These came courtesy of antimagic's Jason Willford.  Paired together, the music and the visuals seemed to invite the audience to sit and air out the darkest reaches of their minds.  Fascinating stuff.

Wovenhand closed out the night.  This Colorado group's brooding, twangy roots-metal sound called to mind, of all bands, Fields of the Nephilim.  David Eugene Edwards's detached moan sounded much smarter than Carl McCoy's melodramatic growl, however.  Also, Wovenhand's hypnotic guitar drones, thudding basslines and unyielding drums packed a much bigger wallop than those carpetbagging Brits could muster.  As for Edwards's rather mirthless take on Christian values, I say let the man groan about Emmanuel as much as he wants.  As long as he keeps tithing to the Church of the Almighty Riff, it's all good by me.  The crowd seemed to agree, for lo, there was much whooping and dancing and banging of the heads.  And actually, Edwards himself wasn't entirely mirthless or humorless: he thanked the crowd at one point for coming out on a Monday night.

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

Incan Abraham, Aan and the Oneirics @ the Red Room (2/1/13)

As frazzled as I was that night, I had fond memories of Aan's performance back in July.  Between those memories and the fact that I'd never seen either of the acts on this bill, I had enough reason to check out this show.

I counted about fifty people when I arrived at the Red Room.  By the time that Aan played, the crowd would number about seventy or seventy-five.  The crowd looked composed mainly of twenty-somethings with a few middle-aged folks here and there.  They could've been family members: Aan's Bud Wilson gave a shout-out to his parents at one point in their set.

Local group the Oneirics opened the night.  Aside from sounding a little ragged here and there, this quartet did extremely well for their first gig ever.  Clean, boyish vocals, dreamy guitar and sparkling keyboard work meshed with serene basslines and intricate, propulsive drumming.  Watch out for this group.

Aan played next.  This Portland group's music didn't sound as odd as I remembered.  It could have been because I wasn't nearly as sun-fried as I was back in July.  It could also have been because, in the months between that show and this one, I've heard quite a few bands who go for a somewhat similar sound.  In any case, their pretty melodies, waves of synth, droning guitar riffs and smoothly angular drumwork still sounded plenty quirky.  They may have been even more pleasurable too.

Incan Abraham closed out the night.  Remember what I wrote earlier about hearing bands who kinda sound like Aan?  This Los Angeles band was a case in point.  However, their light, wailed vocals, their poppy melodies, their dreamy synth waves and their rumbling, pseudo-African beats created a moodier and more ethereal sound that Aan's.  That helped differentiate them enough to make this set enjoyable in its own right.  The crowd seemed to thin out slightly, but plenty of people stayed to dance and cheer.

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

The Toasters, Mrs. Skannotto, the Useless and the Jerkwadz @ the Shredder (1/31/13)

This was a big one for me.  The Toasters helped bring ska from the U.K. to the U.S. back in the 80's.  Their leader and founder, Robert "Bucket" Hingley, also formed Moon Ska Records, which is reportedly the biggest independent label devoted to ska in this country.  They've played Boise quite a few times, but I'd never gotten the chance to see them until this night.

I counted about thirty-five people when I got down to the Shredder.  The crowd grew to about forty-five or fifty as the night progressed.  Modest but respectable.

The Jerkwadz opened the show.  Their tunes sounded as tough and supremely catchy as always, and Jimmy Sinn's buzzing guitar and casually muscular vocals both sounded in good form.  However, a certain awkwardness held the music back.  Sinn's guitar, Cacie Lee's stolid bass and J.R.'s quick-stepping drums didn't quite mesh the way that they should have, which made everything feel just a little bit off.  The problem could have stemmed from a lack of rehearsal time: Sinn told the crowd that they'd only practiced with J.R. three times in six months.  Still, the songs got over because they're that friggin' good.

Up next was the Useless, who played with only two horn men this night (Jason Rucker said that he had no idea where the hell the third guy was).  Regardless, the band members who did show up sounded just fine.  Rucker's friendly bark and ripping guitar grooved seamlessly with his bandmates' rubbery bass, slamming drums and woozy brass.  A sizable chunk of the audience moshed, danced and stage-hopped.  Banter-wise, an especially nice touch was when Rucker dedicated the love song "Taco Truck Girl" to Shane and Miranda Brown, who were outside hard at work in P. Ditty's Wrap Wagon.

Mrs. Skannotto, a six-man unit from Rochester, NY, played next.  It took the crowd a little while to warm to this group's mix of brawny vocals, soaring horns, warped guitar, coursing basslines and lithe, muscular drumming.  However, once they downshifted from some anthemic, 90's hardcore-tinged material to some smooth reggae grooves, people started to move.  By the time that they revved back up with some manic ska, the joint was jumping.  Damn good stuff.  It was a little odd, though, seeing a guy and gal swing-dancing to "Girlfriend," a rowdy yet slinky number about stalking an ex.

The Toasters closed out the night.  Damn near everyone in the crowd danced during this set and rightly so.  "Bucket" Bingley's rough, charming croon and sharp guitar blended with Logan LaBarbera and "Lonestar" Johnson's jazzy horns, "Westbound" Merritt's rippling bass and Jesse Hayes's unstoppable one-two beat.  Songs like "2Tone Army," "Run Rudy Run," "Weekend in L.A.," "History Book" and "Don't Let the Bastards Grind You Down" were as bouncy and irresistible as anything this side of Desmond Dekker.  Their warmth and good humor were reflected in Bingley's jokes and banter with the audience (I wonder, did he get a picture of the barefootin' girl's feet like he said he would?).  Simply wonderful.

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

Tater Famine, Stoneseed and Jan Summerhays @ Neurolux (1/29/13)

I'd heard of Stoneseed--I'm friends with them on Facebook, as a matter of fact--but I'd never actually heard their music before.  On top of that, I'd never heard of either of the other acts on this bill before.  This gave me all the reason I needed for checking this show out.

I counted about thirty-five people when I got down to Neurolux.  A few more people showed up as the night went on, but not too many.  Not bad, all in all.  Given the rootsy slant to the night's music, the Atomic Mama and Joy Division songs on the PA system felt a bit incongruous, but hey, I wasn't gonna complain.

Local musician Jan Summerhays opened the night.  I remember thinking that this lady's gently urgent strumming and breathy, tender vocals would've been better suited for the High Note Cafe or an Idaho Songwriters Association showcase.  All I really meant by that, however, was that I wanted the people behind me to shut up.  In any case, Summerhays's lovely folk melodies and haunting, thoughtful lyrics ensure that I'll keep an eye/ear out for her from now on.  Gentle and tender, yes.  Weak or fragile, no.

Stoneseed played next.  Ty Clayton's strong baritone drawl and sure sense of rhythm, Lindsey Hunt Terrell's sultry harmonies and moaning violin solos and Bennett Barr's smooth, steady djembe earned some big cheers from the crowd.  Their bluesy tunes and conversational lyrics felt as lived-in as their groove.  Maybe there's something to be said for blindly accepting friend requests after all.

Tater Famine closed out the night.  This Santa Cruz trio admonished themselves throughout their set to keep their language radio-friendly.  However, that was pretty much the only concession that they made to gentility.    John Dodds's nasally snarl and fierce strumming, Matteo Brunozzi's ripping mandolin and Laurenzo Burman's fat, pounding basslines winningly fused bluegrass and punk.  Between their brawny, rough-and-ready music and lyrics and their loving but not overly reverent take on Americana, they shot right to the part of me that loves the Pogues.  The only shortcoming of this set was that there weren't more people there to dance.  At least a handful of folks had the right idea.

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

Treefort 2013 Lineup Announcement (Round 3)

Whoa.

I was already pumped about the upcoming Treefort Music Fest, but then the Treefort people unveiled their latest batch of acts today.  Some of these artists will be part of a three-night showcase organized by Doug Martsch of Built to Spill.  To see all of the latest acts, click here.  Here are some of the groups that I'm excited about:

Camper Van Beethoven--I had to do a double-take when I saw this name.  I can't say that I've listened to them much, but I know enough about these indie-rock-meets-world-music pioneers to be amazed that they're coming here.  HUGE catch.

Quasi--My two favorite living rock drummers are Charlie Watts and Janet Weiss.  Charlie Watts, in case you didn't know, plays drums for the Rolling Stones.  Janet Weiss, in case you didn't know, played drums for one of the greatest bands of the past twenty years, Sleater-Kinney.  She currently plays drums for Wild Flag (whose lineup includes her old S-K bandmate, Carrie Brownstein) and this group here.  Beyond stoked.

The Mallard--I found myself at a loss trying to describe this band back in July.  The best I came up with was a combination of Gang of Four, Richard Hell and the Voidoids and White Light/White Heat-period Velvet Underground.  If they bring it like they did at the Manor, people might need oxygen afterwards.

El Ten Eleven--From what I've heard, their last performance at Neurolux was pretty extraordinary.  I'm glad that I might get the chance to see them here.  I might need a snowplow to get through the crowd, but such is the nature of music festivals.

The Thermals--I've been hearing good things about this group for a while, and what I've listened to by them bears it out.  Smart, quirky, solid tune sense, strong beat, fond of distortion.  Should be a lotta fun.

Built to Spill--Yeah, you probably saw this one coming.  Still, they haven't won Best Local Band in the Boise Weekly for five of the past six years for nothing.

Finn Riggins--Yeah, you probably saw this one coming too.  Still, not only are they one of my top 5 Idaho bands, they're a BIG part of what made Treefort possible.  Show some love, people.

Death Songs--Try to imagine Skip James gone indie-rock.  That's kinda what Nicholas Delffs sounded like when he played the VAC last March.  Should be a good one.

Wolvserpent--I may well be the only hipster-ish individual in town who hasn't seen this mega-heavy duo yet.  Might need to man up and brave the maelstrom.

Brett Netson and Snakes--Hey, I got no problem with wild-ass guitar noise.  And judging from their Red Room set last month, Snakes can definitely hold up their end of the deal.

The Hand--One part Fun House, one part Bleach.  RAWK.

Dark Swallows--Glad to see that this local group is in the lineup again.  Always liked them, and they've been getting even better.

Tartufi--Geez Loueez.  Like I've said before, this group oughtta just buy a house here.  But seriously, they love Boise, and Boise loves them right back.  On both sides, the feelings are justified.

Earth--These droners have a helluva history.  Slim Moon, founder of the Kill Rock Stars label, was one of their original members.  They were signed to Sub Pop back in the 90's, and Kurt Cobain played with them now and again.  Might be a good warm-up/cool-down for Wolvserpent.

Terror Pigeon Dance Revolt--The name alone would've gotten me interested in this group.  Then I read this New York Times write-up on them and gave some of their stuff on Bandcamp a listen.  Should be interesting, at the very least.

Karaoke from Hell--"Isn't that name a little redundant?" I thought at first.  Then I read this Portland Monthly article on them and thought, "Wow, this could actually be a lotta fun."

That's all for now.  Again, to see the full lineup to date, got to treefortmusicfest.com.  Two more months!