Big Digits / U.V. Protection / Crystal Understanding / DJ Audiovandal

Great Scott

Allston, MA

Aug. 31, 2006

Amid all the local media hype surrounding Big Digits, who are — at the most basic level — two white guys rapping over electro beats, the duo themselves made a promise. Those not in attendance, they said, will “cry like a child who gets lost in the dress section of JC Penny because he/she wanted to know what the inside of those spinning racks were like and then couldn’t find their mommy/daddy/nanny.” It’s tough to ignore a sales pitch like that.

And just like those spinning racks, which blended colorful dresses into one tidy rotund package for your perusing pleasure, Big Digits’ CD release party for Smoke Machines in Lazervision (Bodies of Water/Arts and Crafts Records) featured some of the most vibrantly colorful live acts in Boston.

After DJ Audiovandal, better known to some as one-half of Certified Bananas, kicked off the night with a blend of obscure and not-so-obscure ‘80s-inspired dance hits and other booty shaking grooves, Cambridge’s Crystal Understanding warmed it up with a low-fi electro tilt that mixed boy-girl dual harmonies (in matching outfits!) over buzzy Yamaha synths and beats derived from wood and steel. These visually endearing performances were just a warm-up for the sensory orgy about to unfold.

Never ones to miss a chance at being the Belles of the Ball, female art-rock-opera-electro quartet (and yes, the interpretive dancer is just as vital as the live drummer) U. V. Protection continued their unique tradition of dressing up in homemade costumes. This art-school décor, complete with the oversized paper mask faces of Big Digits’ TD and Mac Swell attached to their heads, made keyboardist/vocalist Karen Tsiakals at times resemble an outtake from an Aphex Twin video. It was frightening stuff offset only by the brilliantly grandiose operatic noise that has come to define UV Protection. (In addition, the set-up also included life-sized cutouts of Big Digits, gargantuan silver felt hands passed around to the audience, and dollar bills with the boys’ faces in the presidential oval.)

Ripping through a dozen or so songs off 2004’s vastly underrated Consumer Material, U.V.’s operatic mutant disco derived from a drum kit, Casio and MicroKorg and fit sonically with Sue Murard’s visual aesthetic, consisting of umbrellas, Styrofoam place-holders and a projection screen bringing up the rear.

It was a fitting bridge to the main attraction, who took the stage with a fervor unmatched by most local acts. With an empty stage — save a laptop computer, drum, and smoke machine — TD and Mac made it their personal hip-hop arena, jumping off the back wall and engaging the crowd with raps bridging “Loserpalooza” with “John Philip Souza” and chastising those who “go to shows/ to put shit up [their] nose.” Few rhymes, however, can match up to those on the masterpiece “Hey Birthday”: “You think you can model for American Apparel / But you get your fashion tips from Perry Farrell.”

The crowd, privy to the controlled madness that is a Big Digits show, shouted for “more beats” between songs, and pleaded for the sound engineer to crank up the volume. With audience participation in songs like “Hands Clap” (cue gargantuan hands!) and “Chairs Electric,” even the seemingly cheesy pleas by Big Digits come off as 100% authentic and sincere. Nothing here is contrived, and there might not be another Boston act that demands its audience lose its mind dancing and immediately gets that reaction.

Old school hip-hop flow over electro four-on-the-floor beats easily creates a universal party atmosphere, and on a night like this, the entire venue becomes the stage and everyone involved becomes a part of Big Digits. It’s also pretty tough to not win over a crowd when unveiling a Nintendopop rendition of The Pixies’ “Gigantic.” It might be underground freestyle synthpop, but it’s still New England. And on this night, there was a party that felt like a hundred kids crammed into that JC Penny rack, losing their minds and dancing like finding their mamma depended on it.

-Review by Michael Marotta; photo by Mick Murray

Eilen Jewell Band (Residency)

Tir na nOg

Somerville, MA

August 12, 2006

There is something nice to be said about a residency. When you’re the house band, the club is your house. The Eilen Jewell Band is exceptionally comfortable in their house.

In a small neighborhood pub like Tir na nOg, which comes stacked with Saturday evening regulars, the number of people diverting their attention to the band — now well into their residency — is notable. By this point in the residency, the crowd seemed not just familiar with the sound of the band, but enchanted — possibly addicted. Requests for original songs streamed towards the stage, at one point from owner Robby Elliot. A band would be hard-pressed to refuse a request from the club owner, and they obliged, swinging directly into Jewell’s semi-protest song “The Flood,” a lamentation for New Orleans and a condemnation of the current administration’s response. For a song that Jewell admitted the band doesn’t play much, their performance was flawless.

A residency helps the band get comfortable, and each member of the band seemed settled into place. Drummer Jay Beek tucked his small drum set into the corner, swishing around with brushes, throwing in tasteful drum-fills here and there, and contributing backup vocals, although he also spelled Jewell on the microphone and took a lead for one song. Nearest to the bar, violinist Daniel Kellar sat leaning up against the wall. Kellar, who looks very much like David Wells, cradled the violin, the band’s lead solo instrument, against his chin like a favorite pet, making it sing. Opposite him on the back wall stood upright bassist Johnny Sciascia, looking every bit as cool as his last name (Shah-shah) sounds. Sciascia deftly swung his bass both literally and figuratively over the soft lope of Beek’s drums and behind Jewell’s full-sounding acoustic guitar.

The gold on this particular evening came from Jewell’s inspired vocal performance. By this point in their residency, Jewell’s voice, wound sinuously around her music, seemed almost as much part of the small pub as the bottles behind the bar. And like the contents of most of those bottles, her voice came out smooth and sultry, with just a little bit of honey-coated bite and burn. Eilen Jewell is such a part of the Tir na nOg that her father Ted — having just moved to the area from Idaho — got a warm welcome when his presence was announced. It was more of a thank you that was well-deserved after this Saturday evening set.

-Review and photo by C.D. Di Guardia

Reverend Glasseye / Kid Congo and the Pink Monkeybirds / Annuals

Middle East Upstairs

Cambridge, MA

September 16, 2006

For a band on tour, Raleigh, North Carolina’s Annuals sure seemed to have a lot of gear with them onstage. With the exception of a few guitars that obviously belonged to headliner Reverend Glasseye, the young sextet hauled two drum kits (playing both at the same time), keyboards, and amplifiers onstage. Singer Adam Baker made the requisite funny faces during each song, and alternately barked and whooped into the microphone in between songs. His overtly quirky antics seemed to reach some of the younger members of this 18+ crowd, but most of the patrons toting beers seemed less enchanted. After a flowery overture, the band kicked into a rollicking, churning second song that would end up being the high point of the set. Unfortunately, the set was rife with semi-irksome stage presence, which involved a lot of smirking and a good deal of sucking up to the Boston crowd, mostly by repeatedly dissing New York City (obviously not cognizant of the fact that the second band was from, you guessed it, New York City). The front man inexplicably brought a floor tom out to pound out some rhythms, but this act seemed to be slight percussion overkill in the face of the band’s two drummers already playing. Baker managed to jump into the drums for a grand finale.

Kid Congo and the Pink Monkeybirds seemed in no hurry at all to set up, and the group’s languid sense of movement continued into their set, personified by the vocals of Kid Congo himself. The Kid’s spoken vocal style was smooth and rhythmic, and he often times elongated the final syllable in each phrase, stretching out each word and enjoying it to the fullest. Guitarist Jack Martin caused a bit of excitement at one point by smoking a cigarette onstage directly under the sprinkler. Kid’s effervescent stage presence coupled with the band’s unstructured NYC-style punk rock created a different sound for the Cambridge club, and the crowd approved.

Adam Glasseye seemed relaxed to play what he called “the old stomping grounds” of the Upstairs. The show marked the first appearance for new members Holly Brewer and Matt McNiss of HUMANWINE; Brewer sang backup and played (and slapped) the keyboard while McNiss played a subdued electric guitar, keeping a careful eye on the Reverend’s hands to pick up chord changes. Brewer singing behind Glasseye is an all-encompassing sound — her strong voice rang out clear as a bell around his oily, booming voice. Glasseye stretched out his Boston Music Award-nominated vocal chords to their full extent in songs new and old alike. Brewer helped flesh out some of the songs from the recent Our Lady of the Broken Spine record, as on “17 Lashes” and “God Help You, Dumb Boy.” The candid Reverend was all over the place conversationally, perhaps feeling at ease with this intimate crowd, pressed right up to the edge of the stage, anxious to hear more from Reverend Glasseye and his new band.

-Review and photo by C.D. Di Guardia

The Cold War / John Ralston / The December Sound / The Sterns

The Middle East Upstairs

Cambridge, MA

September 13, 2006

It was a typical night at the Middle East: Black-clad hipsters were huddled around the stage, and no one was drunk enough yet to do more than nod along as The Cold War kicked off the night. From the start, they were predictable but very together (band practice occurs at least twice a week). The singer was wearing a blazer over a t-shirt, the combination of which caused an audience member to remark, “All I know is, that jacket’s due back at the Men’s Wearhouse by 11.” Playing strictly standard indie rock, the group meandered through their set, with the guitarist relying heavily on the delay pedal to create an Edge-like effect. In “Ice Age,” noisy instrumentation overpowered the strong and melodic vocals.

Next was John Ralston, who played his first song solo. His voice was a mix of Bright Eyes and John Mayer, and his dimples would make many indie girls swoon. Ralston himself played piano and sang, and his music was reminiscent of Spoon’s Kill the Moonlight — piano-based and straightforward. With his full band, Ralston and company jumped into their set, though their compositions started to sound repetitive, raising the question of whether Ralston might become an indie-pop casualty.

The December Sound were next, delivering several new songs as promised. Vocalist Zack Sarzana’s Jesus & Mary Chain-esque stream of consciousness eventually became more direct, but repetitive. Despite the inevitable breaking string during the set, the performance was seamless. The group tended to combine My Bloody Valentine-style guitars with slower vocals. One song in particular featured a more driving bass line than is usual for The December Sound, and they would do well to continue exploring this theme.

Headliners The Sterns, an excitable Brit/indie pop outfit, were manic from the first note onwards. ‘Slow song’ is clearly not a phrase in their vocabulary. The band’s timing and precision were nearly flawless. Chris and Alex Stern shared vocals with Emeen Zarookian, whose bass playing was innovative and striking. Chris Stern’s vocals are a hybrid of Alex Chilton and Elvis Costello. The band’s eagerness to have a good time and get the audience to do the same makes The Sterns endearing and a pleasure to watch perform.

-Kathryn Doherty

Ho-Ag (CD Release) / Magic People / No No / Roh Delikat

Great Scott

Allston, MA

September 2, 2006

With the college kids back from their summer off, it was a full house at Great Scott this Saturday night. The audience got an eyeful of Magic People vocalist Dave Utzinger as he made his way on stage, thanks to the fact that he was wearing a one-piece underwear set that clung tightly to his nether regions. Utzinger’s vocals — mainly monotonous yelling — were strikingly similar to those in Public Image Limited. The rest of the band formed a chaotic, carnival-esque soundscape that incorporated a flute, adding a refreshing brightness to the swirling madness. Overall, the band sounded like a merry-go-round at a festival that parents would never let their children attend.

From the moment the two members of No No walked on stage, one wearing a chicken mask and not much else and the other wearing just his boxer briefs (this seems to be a show featuring men in their underwear), the audience was laughing. Most of the crowd looked skeptical, because at first No No seemed to be simply a joke band. However, their self-confidence, random vocals, and prerecorded music, reminiscent of early Ween, combined to make them the act of the night. And never before has Boston seen such a large guy wearing a chicken mask and tighty whities as confidently.

During Roh Delikat’s set, Kristina Johnson’s vocals had an intense, Blonde Redhead clarity that meshed well with her solid guitar playing. The only problem was her lack of eye contact with the audience, which somewhat alienated her. However, the audience didn’t seem to mind, as it was clear that much of the crowd was here to see just her. Johnson’s use of a violin bow on her guitar for one song seemed to be more for effect than for actual sound, and her vocals slightly overpowered the rest of the music. The songs jumped from guitar-drenched soundscapes to more straight-up rock parts, sometimes creating a disorienting effect. However, both Scott Craggs’ drumming and Sam Gutterman’s bass playing blended seamlessly together and formed a solid backdrop to Johnson’s frontwomanship.

Finally, Ho-Ag, who were celebrating the release of their new album, The Word From Pluto, took the stage. The band’s danceable yet eyelid-twitching sound made them hard to follow. Throughout the set, they jumped from keyboard-heavy math rock to carnival-esque numbers to theremin-based ambient tunes that featured a man with a mask controlling an amp from off of the stage. The band counts The Birthday Party as one of their influences, and fans of no-wave will definitely dig these guys, but those into more streamlined melodies will most decidedly not.

-Review by Kathryn Doherty; photo by Mick Murray

Fluttr Effect (Album release) / Copal / kid:nap:kin / Captain Cutthroat

Middle East Downstairs Cambridge, MA Sept. 22, 2006

Fluttr Effect’s release show for their new album Marking Time drew a diverse, rapt crowd to the Middle East. For the most part, this interested audience appreciated the Allston-based band’s energy, beauty and progressive rock roots.

The opening acts, Copal, kid:nap:kin and Captain Cutthroat fit neatly into Fluttr Effect’s progressive, gothic genre, and provided apt support. However, their music, particularly that of Captain Cutthroat, did not seem original, and was at times somewhat boring and far too reminiscent of early ‘90s grunge. Captain Cutthroat gave quite a heavy performance, and was highly reminiscent of System of a Down. The group’s fast-paced set sounded complicated, due to the band’s rapid drumming and excessive, erratic power chords. On the other hand, Copal’s atmospheric violins brilliantly prepared the audience for Fluttr Effect’s music and the small early crowd respectfully enjoyed their set. However, kid:nap:kin was far and away the best opening act, displaying great enthusiasm, vigor and a commendable stage presence. Their sound was clear and less harsh than Captain Cutthroat’s, giving kid:nap:kin a more universal appeal. However, their vocals seemed distorted and the lyrics were practically incomprehensible.

When Fluttr Effect finally took the stage at about midnight, the crowd immediately began to show their support and excitement. The opening piece provided a perfect taste of how Fluttr Effect’s set would progress. The band appeared with great energy and clear passion for their work, as evidenced by their long, intense set. Shorter, more radio-friendly tunes, such as “Talk to Me” and “Awake,” were nestled between extensive, King Crimson-like epics. This swapping made for a varied set list that certainly kept most of the crowd’s attention. The lengthy songs didn’t bore the crowd, who listened with calm delight until the end of every song, when they would cheer wildly. Dedicated fans gathered at the front and, unfortunately, people towards the back and at the bar used much of Fluttr Effect’s set to socialize, as if this show were the best gathering place for goth and metal fans since the closure of the club ManRay a little more than a year ago.

Singer Kara Trott gave a strong performance, vocally and visually. Her talent is obvious and her haunting vocals and exceptional stage presence mesmerized the audience. Trott’s clothes and exposed skin were covered with bright, colorful paint splashes, as if visually representing Fluttr Effect’s art rock influences. She physically manifested Fluttr Effect’s sexy, dark image.

Overall, Fluttr Effect’s exceptional stage presence gave their show an eclectic, creative feel. Perhaps it was due to the band’s unconventional attire or clear classical influences, but watching the performance was truly a unique treat. Each band member exuded a perceptible dedication to their work, and communicated with one another, meaning the intense, complex pieces remained consistent and tight. Fluttr Effect clearly love and believe in their work, and this sense was brilliantly communicated in a consistent and genuine manner.

-Miriam Lamey