Tiger Saw / 27 / Cordelia's Dad / Seekonk / Hilken Mancini & Chris Colbourn / Geoff Farina

T.T. the Bear's

Cambridge, MA

January 5, 2007

Part two of the Kimchee Records 10th Anniversary show at T.T.'s didn't fail to impress, and the whole night took on a celebratory air, affirming Kimchee's status as one of the most important labels in New England.

The crowd attending this sold-out event was truly diverse, but was mostly comprised of an older generation. Local artists enjoyed the show alongside audio engineers, Boston hipsters with thick-rimmed glasses, and other figureheads of local music - there was even a small crowd of frat-like college kids. This audience was a reflection of Kimchee's diverse history and long list of quality artists - bands like Helms, Victory At Sea, Skating Club and more.

Actually, the best performance of the evening was the very first act: an intimate acoustic set by Karate's Geoff Farina. Farina is in many ways closely linked to Kimchee; he put out an instrumental improvisational avant-garde guitar CD called Blobscape with Kimchee in 2002. His set was delicate and extremely moving for so early in the night. The room was dead silent, and a decently sized audience had already gathered.

Another highlight of the evening was Cordelia's Dad, who, after a long hiatus, still performed with inspiration and tightness. Their set was loud and totally satisfying - the crowd absolutely loved it. Hopefully these guys will release another record soon.

The third band to take the stage was Portland, Maine's Seekonk. Their hushed tone and intertwining mallet melodies were poignant. Delicate falsetto harmonies hung in the air like thick fog, and the audience, which was fairly sizable by now, swayed back and forth, entranced by Seekonk's understated performance.

Hilken Mancini & Chris Colbourn played a strong set and 27 impressed as always. 27's intriguing mix of trip hop electronic textures with accessible pop melodies translated well live and by this time T.T.'s was bustling at its maximum capacity - the audience socializing between songs, buying drinks at the bar, and enjoying the table of free Korean food. One lucky audience member even won the entire Kimchee catalog through the onstage raffle.

Tiger Saw was a great choice to end the Kimchee celebration, as their carol-like breed of indie rock lent the end of the night a festive atmosphere. The band played flawlessly and many audience members sang along, thrilled to be part of the celebration. All in all, it was a fantastic evening for a fantastic record label. The entire night felt less like a concert and more like an exceptional party - just with a really incredible lineup of bands also playing. Most of all, the night's real success was bringing together the always-benevolent, tightly-knit music community that centers around one concept: great local music. Kimchee's success should be inspirational to smaller labels and music circles in the area. The label has put out some of the best New England music in the last decade and cultivated a fruitful music community - one based not on industry dealings or musical bureaucracy - but on friendships.

-Review by Adam Arrigo; photo by Tim Bugbee

Concert Ballet Orchestra Players / Paper Thin Stages / Black Helicopter / Helms

Middle East Upstairs

Cambridge, MA

January 11, 2007

There couldn't have been a more incongruous opener than Concert Ballet Orchestra Players on January 11 at the Middle East Upstairs. Not to say their incongruity was a bad thing; it was just sort of a strange beginning to an interesting night in Cambridge. CBOP is more of a psychedelic collective of improvisation than a band; their songs are loosely structured jam sessions where different movements evolve out of abstract noise. The sound was thickly layered and the band managed to stumble upon some really interesting parts. Having two drummers may have worked for the Grateful Dead at certain points, but the CBOP lacked the unique interplay Hart and Kreutzmann brought to the stage. Here, the dueling drummage seemed pretty excessive. The theremin player was top notch, though, and the trippy visuals (from the projector) were a perfect visual translation of hysterical realism, ala Kesey's acid tests.

Ultimately, the set was interesting and showed fleeting glimpses of musical brilliance.

Paper Thin Stages came next; their unique strain of uptempo jazz-infused math-rock formed a stark contrast with the Orchestra Players, and was a welcome change. It was a treat to see these guys onstage, as they hadn't played for a while. Paper Thin Stages showcased a good amount of material from their new record, <I>Progress Toward Ranks<I>, and did so effortlessly with tightness and their usual charisma. Gang vocals translated well in the mix - the result sounding vaguely like Fugazi. The crowd was really into the new stuff they played, and when their set came to a close, the audience looked noticeably disappointed.

Not to worry, though, as Black Helicopter took the stage next. These guys are serious rock musicians; something about their music and stage presence seems overwhelmingly genuine. Their sound is vaguely '90s and singer/guitarist Tim Shea's straightforward, detached vocal delivery ties it all together. The band played the hits from 2006's excellent Invisible Jet and the crowd absolutely loved it. The sound Upstairs was well suited for Black Helicopter's setup, and the band didn't have to turn up to an ear-bleeding volume to achieve that crunchy blare that makes rock 'n' roll moving live.

Helms finished the night with their usual brilliance, although for this set they played a good amount of old songs. They opened with an old favorite off McCarthy, "Horace: Age 19; Powers: None," which was absolutely breathtaking live. They also played some great songs off their new record Secret Doors. At one point during the set, drummer Dan McCarthy started tapping a footswitch, which alternated the guitar signal between two amps, spaced far apart on stage - one in the front and one in the back. The result was a really interesting spacial/rhythmic effect that seemed to disorient some nearby audience members. All in all, the general feeling after Helms dismounted the stage was genuine awe.

-Review by Adam Arrigo, photo by Tim Bugbee

Druids / Speck Mountain / Elizabeth Butters and Shawn Creeden / The Drop Earrings

P.A.'s Lounge

Somerville, MA

January 7, 2007

The soft and precocious voice of Elizabeth Butters started to filter through the interior windows in P.A.'s Lounge. While Butters easily commanded attention with her O Sister, Where Art Thou? stage presence, sideman Shawn Creeden's big spot was a performance on an unlikely instrument - the saw. His prowess on multiple instruments and woodworking tools notwithstanding, Creeden's vocal performance was a flat, keyless contrast to Butters' lively, whispy tones. Most members of the audience sat on the floor, like students enjoying the sound of a visiting minstrel.

Second act The Drop Earrings sat on a stool directly in the middle of the stage with an acoustic guitar. Abby Glowgower seemed an affable and congenial character. Once the music started, however, she metamorphosed from Girl Next Door to Broken-Hearted Chanteuse in a matter of seconds. The emotion was not some form of dramatic tomfoolery; Glowgower seemed able to transport herself into each song effortlessly. The forlorn performer sadly strummed her guitar, the pick barely making contact with the strings.

Speck Mountain keyboardist Kate Walsh joined the magnetic Glowgower onstage for the final portion of the set. She was soon joined by singer/bassist Marie-Claire Balabanian and guitarist Karl Briedrick. Balabanian's voice rose above and carried the slightly sad energy of the group's instrumental sound. The band seemed scattered across the stage, but the standout performance was that of Walsh on the electric piano. A late power surge in the Speck Mountain set seemed almost misplaced amidst the vibe that the band had set with each of the preceding songs.

Druids came onstage wearing, of course, druid cloaks. The only light in the room was that which spilled in both through the windows and from Druids' own "headlights." Jess Barnett stood over to the right, leaning over a synthesizer. Her headlight style was a single cycloptic eye hanging from the middle of her hood. Drummer John Barera hunched over his drums, somehow managing to effectively keep the beat despite his large cloak. Barera's lights came in the form of twin "eyes," lending him a Jawa-esque quality. His lights were clearly the most high-powered, as they faded out during the set. On the left side of the stage knelt John McGuigan. He had a small collection of samplers and other electronic effluvia arranged on a chair. Employing this arrangement with expertise, he twisted knobs, flipped switches and rode faders, manifesting a highly varied audioscape. His headlight wasn't immediately visible, but the entire inside of his hood seemed illuminated.

All three Druids hunched over their particular instruments, making seemingly minute adjustments between each instrumental piece. Barnett coaxed delayed shrieks of sound from her synthesizer while McGuigan landed invisible jets and summoned tidal waves of noise from his own electronic arrangement. To the rear, drummer Barera flailed at his drums with whatever was available - sometimes hitting cymbals with a tambourine, sometimes apparently just using his hands.

-Review by C.D. Di Guardia; photo by Marianne Bolduc

Those Who Wait / The Forms / Tiny Whales / Faces On Film

Middle East Upstairs

Cambridge, MA

January 10, 2007

Those Who Wait were a perfect addition to this largely entertaining bill. As openers, though, their layered, often climactic sound was a bit too ... climactic for an opening band. In any case, it was no fault of theirs, and the band succeeded at creating an ethereal drama pretty early in the night. There was a decently sized crowd already gathered at the Upstairs by 9 p.m., and it seemed as though many of them were there for Those Who Wait. The band performed tightly and the sound was good. Their stage dynamics were decent, despite a few awkward moments when the band stopped playing and it was evident the "tape" - or laptop - was filling in a good amount of the ambiance. Those Who Wait closed the set with the brooding emo epic "Shadows," which sounds strikingly similar to The Get Up Kids' "I'll Catch You." This could either be an attractive comparison or an embarrassing one, depending on how far you've snobbishly upturned your nose to '90s emo balladeers. Still, the dynamics translated effectively from record to stage, and the vocals during the softer parts were even reminiscent of Elliott Smith. The song blared to a climactic finish, leaving an awkward air of finality in the room. The crowd, still on its first round of drinks, seemed vaguely stunned by such anthemic emo histrionics so early in the evening.

By the time Brooklyn's The Forms mounted the stage at 10:15, the trepidation in the air was nearly palpable. Where would the show go from here? Had the show's wad been shot too early? Could The Forms still impress in the post-coital afterglow? Ten seconds into their opener - a track off their forthcoming Albini-produced sophomore effort - it was clear that the answer was yes. Unlike Those Who Wait, The Forms relied more on mathematical dynamics than volume dynamics, their songs moving forwards in the most unexpected of time signatures. In the hands of a lesser band, the overt shifting in meter could be construed as indulgent or too technical; however, The Forms pulled it off so smoothly and with such surprising cohesion that most listeners probably didn't even realize the band's technical prowess. The Forms performed a near-flawless set, playing a combination of new songs, as well as older favorites, off their excellent debut record Icurus. The mix was top notch and the drums sounded incredible (something about the Middle East Upstairs carries drums fantastically).

Next up were Portsmouth/Boston's Tiny Whales, playing their usual breed of raucous new wave tunes with shouty vocals. The difference tonight, though, was that it was their first Boston show with their new bassist. The band seemed comfortable with the new member and performed well, especially on songs like "Bar Fight" and "Scream And Shout." Tiny Whales' sound is typically loose, bordering occasionally on sloppy; however, their lack of tightness lends itself positively to their sound, evoking a raw, vaguely drunken aesthetic. One gets the impression that if they were too precise, their music might in turn be too '80s. But could there ever be such a thing?

By the time Faces On Film went on, the room was near if not completely sold-out. The band's draw is well deserved, too, and their opener was a restrained, tension building number where their singer sounded almost like Isaac Brock with a touch of Dylan. Faces On Film played a tight set - a perfect end to the night. It was one of those sets that had such an electric quality, fed both by the music onstage and the reaction in the crowd, that one gets the impression these guys won't be playing Upstairs for long. In fact, all four of the bands that night had just released - or are currently planning to release - new records, which, judging by the new material showcased onstage, might be really incredible. It wouldn't be too far-fetched to assume that this very same line-up assembled a year or two from now might attract crowds too large to fit Upstairs.

-Review by Adam Arrigo; photo by Erin Yunes

Apollo Sunshine / The Texas Governor

The Stone Church

Newmarket, N.H.

December 29, 2006

For their inaugural show at the covertly located Stone Church in Southeast New Hampshire, Boston's Apollo Sunshine invited New Hampshire locals The Texas Governor to open. "Is this a sit-down night?" the Governor's keyboard player asked the modest crowd seated at the Church's round tables soon after they took the stage. Apparently so, as only a few brave souls managed to answer the band's repeated challenges to dance to their bass-heavy new wave punk anthems. And even that didn't happen until the last few minutes of their set.

It's difficult to blame this lack of crowd reaction on the music, as the Governor's head-bobbing lo-fi tunes translated nicely in the live setting. Unfortunately, a lot of banter and dead space between songs, resulting from either a lack of pre-planning or a lack of communication, were not welcomed by the audience. Nevertheless, when the music dropped, it dropped hard, with group mastermind Dave Goolkasian making quirky gestures, singing into a small cardboard megaphone, and belting out lovesick lyrics when he wasn't rattling the crossbeams with the Gibson Thunderbird bass he'd borrowed from Apollo Sunshine's Jesse Gallagher.

Speaking of, by the time Apollo Sunshine took the stage, the crowd had more than doubled - no doubt a good number of them UNH students who'd patiently waited for the chance to see the trio in their own backyard. Packing their usual arsenal of instruments - keyboard/sampler, trap set, bass and electric guitar, pedal steel, double-necked guitar/bass combo, and conga drum - Apollo Sunshine effortlessly proved why they've recently landed in every publication from Rolling Stone to The New York Times.

It was interesting to witness the effect that relentless touring and opening for bands like The Decemberists and My Morning Jacket seems to have had on the trio. In the year or so since the release of their self-titled second album, not only have they shed their "hello/goodbye" fourth member Sean Aylward from the lineup, but they also seem to have matured out of their "onstage psychotic freakout" phase. Though their show at the Church expelled its fair share of demons courtesy of explosive solos and other feats of instrumental dominance, the chaos seemed more controlled than in the fond Middle East days of old. Similarly, peripheral instruments outside the usual guitar/bass/drums triumvirate did find their way into the set, but only the keyboards lasted more than a single song.

In place of the traditional mayhem were funky blues-based jams culled largely from the latest album, but injected with a few extra minutes of solos to keep the hirsute hipsters bobbing their heads and tapping their feet. Add to that a couple of new songs and a batch of interesting covers - "Birthday" for a drunken buffoon who kept shouting it was his buddy's twenty-first, an encore of Funkadelic's "Can You Get to That," in which said birthday boy actually sat in on drums for Jeremy and managed to follow along pretty well, and a funky instrumental take on one of J.S. Bach's better-known fugues. It would be hard to describe the night as anything less than another memorable party with three of Boston's more successful Berklee dropouts.

-Review and photo by Brett Cromwell