SHOW OF THE MONTH

The Blacks

Tricycle Records Showcase:

The Frail / The Blacks / If Nobody Knew
Bottom of the Hill
San Francisco, CA
July 3, 2007

It’s a rare and exciting thing to see a band play its first show — especially when that band shows as much promise as The Frail. And at the Tricycle Records Showcase, promise was in the air as three dynamic bands put on a well-rounded show, hinting at great things to come for the relatively new local label.

Surprisingly cohesive for their audience debut, The Frail’s performance hinted that bigger stages weren’t far off. The band’s dark and dancey electro sound could easily land them a spot opening for Bloc Party or Hot Hot Heat. Lights and smoke did help to create such an impression, but even without the showiness, their set was anything but frail. Hypnotic synths, breathy and falsetto vocals, crisp drums and pulsating bass pierced through the fog to create both a wistful soundscape like that of The Postal Service, and a heavier, more volatile design like that of The Faint. Once The Frail hones its stage presence and gets more comfortable in front of a crowd, everything will be golden; and until then, the slight awkwardness is endearing.

In sharp contrast to The Frail’s guitar-free set, The Blacks were all about revving it up. Along with punk-style drums, ferocious tambourine, and distorted vocals, this three-piece put on a fierce show and held Bottom of the Hill completely entranced with their tenacious garage sound. The Blacks’ leading lady, Luisa Black, furrowed her brow and growled through her teeth and her guitar, the reverb on her mic lending a Rid of Me-era PJ Harvey effect to her vocal delivery. All the while, a crazed JDK Blacker shook and slapped his tambourine in true Pentecostal spirit. The Blacks’ stage presence was undeniable — in fact, they owned the stage. A certain Black Christopher joined the band on sax for the group’s final number, a zealous cover of Romeo Void’s “Never Say Never,” adding depth to the salacious song and intrigue to the band’s standard framework.

Rounding out the night with a melodic post-punk temperament, If Nobody Knew took its set to new heights. Pained and gorgeous, the band’s sound was alternatingly swelling and holting, heralded by Brandon Burkart’s falsetto and punctuated by swirling keys and textural nuances. Without the bounce of The Frail or the grit of The Blacks, If Nobody Knew stuck to a more anthemic chord, ultimately climaxing with “Blonde Scrapings.”

All in all it was a tremendous night for Tricycle Records, and an even better night for those in attendance — fans of one band left with two new favorites.

-Review by Katherine Hoffert; photo by Julie Schuchard

Chow Nasty / The Heavenly States / The Loyd Family Players / The Magic Bullets
The Independent
San Francisco, CA
July 13, 2007

Leave it to San Francisco dance rock outfit Chow Nasty to conjure up a little raunchy voodoo for their Friday the Thirteenth album release bash. The packed bill featured lots of dazzle from local acts that seemed to pride themselves on energy and impact.

After a brief delay, The Magic Bullets took the stage first, bringing with them that glitzy, modern sound and dramatic, romantic stage presence that felt, predictably, like a pop-rock hybrid. But from their bumping bass, to their swarming synths, to their vocalist’s Robert Smith-derived yelping, The Magic Bullets sounded like they would fit well on a mainstream radio station. Though electrifying and accessible, their polished sound might be too heavy on the varnish to please more seasoned ears.

With a bullhorn in his hand and a bass drum slung around his shoulders, the bearded, beanie-wearing ring leader of The Loyd Family Players introduced his fourteen-member drum corps to the floor of The Independent. In scanty outfits coordinated in various combinations of red, white and black, The Loyd Family Players banged out forty minutes of thundering, samba-inspired percussion while The Heavenly States set up their props and gear onstage. They displayed the pageantry and volume of a marching band, minus brass, plus the frolicking, gyrating sexiness requisite of a group born at Burning Man.

Amid kitschy, homemade scenery of clouds, rain and lightning, The Heavenly The Heavenly States’ frontman Ted Nesseth forecasted, “Partly cloudy with a 100 percent chance of rock.” For the anthemic, violin-wielding, high-voltage power pop of The Heavenly States, kitsch might have been an appropriate crutch. How else could they justify refrains such as, “Hey! Hey! Everybody’s gonna die today”? The Heavenly States played a lot of heroic, Ted Leo-inspired material, but their extra instrumentation weighed them down. Their violin and keys mostly re-charted territory already covered by their guitar and bass. What might have been intended as a larger than life performance came across as overwrought and superfluous.

If Talking Heads had considered bootie music more than a means to an end, perhaps Chow Nasty would have an artistic legacy to fulfill. Good thing the pressure’s off. With showmanship cues borrowed from Rick James and mutable beats that drove upward towards echelons of brilliant decadence, Chow Nasty’s unapologetic party music was the highlight of the evening. Their fresh, cacophonous grooves recalled LCD Soundsystem and !!! in the best possible ways, dispelling apprehensions with a carefree dose of Friday the Thirteenth magic: one could not resist the urge to dance.

-Review by Andres Jauregui; photos by Valerie Shoaps

Blackmarket / Nudity / Triclops! / Burning Brides
Dante’s
Portland, OR
July 12, 2007

Dante’s brought a night of variety and grit to Portland, with four bands representing four different neighborhoods and offering four different kinds of heavy rock. Opening the night was Blackmarket, from Arizona, playing a straight-up variety of indie rock. This Lake Havasu foursome was certainly the least passionate onstage, but held their own nevertheless, focusing less on the performance aspect and more on offering fluid, professional music.

Up next were Olympia, Washington prog-rockers Nudity. Built on the basic power trio format, this band let their music do the talking; there were no breaks between songs, half of the set was instrumental, and what little vocals they offered served as a mild garnish. Even frontman Dave Harvey and bassist Quitty’s guitar parts were relatively minimalistic, with none of the soaring leads or whispering song centers often found in progressive music. Instead, they just let three or four chords repeat for five minutes, using pedal effects, drum riffs, and the occasional awkward guitar squeal to break the monotony.

Then came Triclops! frontman Johnny. Technically, the full Bay Area foursome was there as well, but no band would be able to pull attention from the little gas molecule that is John Mink. Mink goes by a different stage name from month to month, but offers a very predictable performance — specifically, no holds barred. Though he stayed onstage for nearly two sentences of the introduction to Triclops!’ first song, as soon as the music really started, off the stage he went, sprinting through the bar, rolling along the ground, dry-humping the support beams and cuddling with a miniature bass amp before throwing the bass against the monitor. Triclops!’ music is perfectly palatable, a very energy-driven breed of acid rock that nobly resists the temptation to dilapidate into meaningless noise — but that doesn’t matter. With a five-foot-something singer dangling off a vacant spotlight platform, his shirt covered in sweat and candle wax, his microphone cord nearly decapitating anyone unfortunate enough to be near the stage, the music becomes irrelevant.

Closing the night, Burning Brides played the most traditional music of the show, which is saying virtually nil. This happy threesome from Philadelphia (recently relocated to Los Angeles) had the most rock star credentials of the night, recently freed from their contract with V2 Records to pursue a more independent sound. Burning Brides were easily digestible, with easy to follow lyrics, a fun stage presence, and a bona fide hit to close the night, “Heart Full of Black.” Backed by Pete Beeman’s drums, frontman Dimitri Coats and bassist Melanie Coats were both lively for the whole set, loving their music as a band should and keeping things light, fun and upbeat, closing out the night with a smile.

-Review and photo by Bonwell Parker

Seattle Rock Lottery 3
Neumo’s
Seattle, WA
July 14, 2007

Started a decade ago in Denton, Texas, the annual Rock Lottery enlists 25 local musicians who meet in the morning, draw names to form bands of five members each, and then have 12 hours to name themselves and write three to five original songs to perform that night. Success is measured by the fickle standards of the indie community’s fluctuating allegiances, so every band walks the cliff’s edge of complete failure.

Hosted by Harvey Danger frontman Sean Nelson (himself a Lottery alum), Seattle’s third annual Rock Lottery welcomed a handful of well-known faces and a deep pool of the city’s more-or-less unsung indie musicians. No less wide-reaching, the audience comprised a mix of curious fans and the odd local notables (like James Keblas, who heads up the Seattle Mayor’s Film & Music Office).

With members of “Awesome,” Shiftless Layabout, H is for Hellgate, Say Hi to Your Mom, and Harvey Danger, Osama Bin Lottery peaked with a romping refrain of “Don’t touch my stuff!” Local soul-sister Choklate and members of The Catheters, The Suffering Fuckheads, Akimbo, and Sun Vow played a rendition of the traditional “House of the Rising Sun,” but cover tunes are a major infraction of Rock Lottery rules, and audience disapproval was all but palpable. One offering from The Federline Conspiracy — comprised of players from Radio Nationals, Big Tribal Balls, Pleasurecraft, Tennis Pro, and Damien Jurado — bore a stunning resemblance to Modern English’s “Melt with You.”

After three less than stellar sets, the crowd had thinned, and the stagehands raced to convert the stage for what turned out to be a welcome swerve into the laughably unexpected. The only lady-free group of the night, Mantastic, featured Aqueduct‘s David Terry fronting a quintet filled out by Levi Fuller and members of Key Note Speaker, Felicia Loud and the Soul, and Goondocks (the only hip-hop band represented). The band based its entire set on its collective manhood, including a rap tune about shaving and Old Spice, and a Latin-flavored closer whose refrain — “Corona, chipotle, cerveza, mas vina” — had the entire house singing along in surreal abandon.

The final set featured Nate Lashes, Jen Wood, Jonny Sonic, Raz Rez’s Elie Goral and The French Project’s Erin Jorgensen performing as The Most Popular Girl In School. Jorgensen’s delicate marimba offered a charismatic contrast to Lashes’ string-breaking guitar work, and a soft 6/8 ballad closed the night with a wholly surprising denouement.

What makes the Rock Lottery such an impregnable concept for a rock show is its capacity for demystifying the concept of the working indie band. Some luck-of-the-draw ensembles almost outshine their members’ regular gigs, others seemingly fail even to keep the attention of the players, but every year, there’s certainly something to talk about. Viva la Lottery!

-Review by Jason Kirk; photos by Marcella Volpintesta

Social Studies / Fast Computers / Pants Pants Pants / Blue Skies for Black Hearts
Bottom of the Hill
San Francisco, CA
June 29, 2007

The evening began with Portland’s Blue Skies for Black Hearts, the solo project of one of the Northwest’s most prolific indie producers, Patrick Kearns. Though the group was clad in black with lead singer Kearns sporting thick-rimmed glasses, these four were surely no emo version of Weezer. They cultivated an all-around enjoyable sound typical of classic indie rock, smooth and simple in melody and inspiring a few heads to bop from side to side to the beat.

Next up, celebrating the recent release of their album Ok, Fine, local act Pants Pants Pants gave a fun and flighty performance. Self-described as “laptop indie rock” or “not-pop” Pants Pants Pants are perhaps best explained as Smashing Pumpkins meets LCD Soundsystem — a hard, guitar-driven emo rock, coupled with elements of electronica and dance pop. Lead singer Lauren Lauren and bassist Ted Dancing were decked out in strips of lights that pulsated to the beat of the music. Audience members seemed to have trouble deciding if it was all just too cheesy or too fabulous to handle, but when a group of “cheerleaders” stormed the stage to perform choreographed dance routines to their songs, it seemed clear — definitely fabulous.

Fast Computers, another band hailing from Oregon, delivered a no-frills set of straightforward, heartfelt music that was very rich in sound. Frontman Peter Dean kept a strong electronic keyboard thread running through the songs while belting out clear and earnest vocals that were strangely bittersweet. “Everyone’s just waiting for the lonely girl to step out of the line / You brought her here tonight to soothe your wounded pride,” Dean crooned on “Invisibility.” If anything, drummer Jennifer Fox gets props for not being afraid to wear a full-length dress behind her drum set.

It was clear, however, that the house was dedicated to the headlining act — the crowd burst out into chants of “Social Studies! Social Studies!” between sets. When the San Francisco four-piece finally graced the stage, the excitement was almost uncontrollable. Lead singer Natalia Rogovin displayed bold frontwoman confidence, sporting a micro-mini jumper dress and high heels as she appeared on stage and started the count-off. They opened with “Pack of Cards,” also the opener of their recent debut EP, This is the World’s Biggest Hammer, and though the set primarily showcased songs from that album, they also played songs from their formative days. The crowd ate it up. By the end, the audience was still hungry for more, chanting and begging them to play their ever-popular “Theme Song.” Social Studies obliged the screaming mass and decided to make it a true encore by performing an unrehearsed “Casanova,” making the evening a real treat for the dedicated fan.

-Review and photos by Nicole Sheikh

Vetiver / Papercuts / The Dry Spells
The Independent
San Francisco, CA
July 3, 2007

Vetiver’s recent show at The Independent delivered a night of surprises — some more delightful than others — and featured a roster full of San Franciscan talent.

Opening act The Dry Spells were among the more pleasant surprises. With an enchanted drone of melodica, violin, and shuffling percussion, this predominantly female group wove ethereal dreamscapes of soft psychedelia. Singers Tahlia Harbour and April Hayley imbued The Dry Spells with the flickering warmth of their vocal harmonies, while lead guitarist Adria Otte provided playful, shimmering leads on her acoustic electric. While it would have been interesting to see what Otte, a classically trained violinist, might have added to their string arrangements, her agile guitar rivaled Harbour and Hayley’s voices in both versatility and charisma. Although their stage presence was friendly and affable, the tension between these elements provided the necessary drive as The Dry Spells’ drawn out compositions meandered sweetly toward their ever-afters.

A bit of the aforementioned levity might have been what Jason Quever and his Papercuts needed to balance the storm and stress of their performance. As the band geared up for the evening’s second set, the ominous presence of an unoccupied organ on the stage and the equally conspicuous absence of keyboardist David Enos forecasted the temperament of things to come. Lauded by the press for the summery, Dylan-esque ambience of their second album, Can’t Go Back, Papercuts’ performance on this night boldly defied all expectations. Playing as a three-piece alongside bassist Trevor Montgomery and drummer Kelly Nyland — both of Red Wing Black Bird — Quever abandoned his twangy electric guitar in favor of a subdued twelve-string acoustic, doctored with a gracious helping of tremolo reverb. The unmanned organ was used only once, by Quever, for “Poor and Free,” the band’s final song. The vibe was cold, introspective, and moody, with feedback that, intentionally or not, recalled the darker, seedier psychedelia of The Velvet Underground. Although Papercuts made bold choices, their gamble might have been better received had Montgomery’s thumping bass not obstructed the beautiful nuances of Quever’s singing and playing.

If personality is what drove the bands on this night, it found a perfect home in the laid-back confidence of Vetiver’s frontman, Andy Cabic. His command of his sound and the crowd spoke of an unparalleled maturity. From the first notes of the lush, dark “You May Be Blue” to the harmonica-kissed sentimentality of “I Know No Pardon,” Cabic had the full attention of the audience — eyes, ears, and everything in between. The band sounded great as they played a generous helping of songs from last year’s To Find Me Gone, some countrified new material, and a few covers that the band had just finished recording in Sacramento. Their set was long, but Vetiver played three encores in gracious appreciation.

-Andres Jauregui

Adam Franklin / Head Like a Kite / Sleepy Eyes of Death
Crocodile Cafe
Seattle, WA
July 14, 2007

Opening band Sleepy Eyes of Death, celebrating the release of their new album, Street Lights for a Ribcage, were nearly as much of a draw as the headliner, former Swervedriver leader Adam Franklin. Unfortunately, neither filled the room this Saturday night. The Seattle quartet reversed the typical stage setup, placing drums and two racks of keyboards up front, with guitars and more keyboards in back. The multiple Rolands, Moogs, and Korgs on stage were a retro keyboard fetishist’s fantasyland. The band deployed its own multicolored footlights and smoke machines, without ironic intent, creating a dramatic atmosphere. Some unobtrusive video projections played on a screen behind the stage. The band performed with intensity, their songs driven by keyboard arpeggios, pounding drums blended with programmed beats, and a wash of noisy, shoegazer guitar to create a sound like M83 scoring the movie Tron. Only one song featured vocals, and those were fed through a Vocoder, naturally. Between songs the stage was a bustle of activity as members moved between instruments, and minimal, businesslike stage banter kept the focus on the band’s riveting performance.

Seattle duo Head Like a Kite indulged in polyglot musical trickery, creating a mash-up of instrumental hip-hop, straight-ahead alt-rock, prog and electronica, using guitar, drums, keyboards, vocals, triggered samples and loops, other effects (like more Vocoder), and a backing track played off of a laptop. They also employed video projections, showing clips of old Super-8 home movies and other random footage. Nattily decked out in 1970s three-piece suits (minus the jackets), the duo soldiered through the set despite a diminished crowd and a somewhat tepid response. Party poppers were handed out to the audience at one point, but only one person set theirs off. With the band’s stylistic diversity and offbeat humor (one song is entitled “Buttcrack Smile”), Head Like a Kite seems well suited for scoring comedy or cartoon shows on television.

Adam Franklin’s band had the only traditional guitar-bass-drums setup of the night. The set focused on Franklin’s new solo album, Bolts of Melody, with a couple of Swervedriver tunes thrown in, much to the delight of a few stalwart fans. Franklin’s guitar-centric music falls somewhere between the lackadaisical intensity of J. Mascis and the offhand fluency of Dean Wareham. While Franklin’s deadpan vocals used to provide counterpoint to the open-throttle sound of Swervedriver, they now accentuate the relative laconicism of his current songs. His backing band was quite capable, despite never having played all together before, but Franklin’s one-song solo encore was the highlight of his set.

-Mike Baehr

Emily Wells Trio / Redcar / Lavender Diamond
The Echo
Los Angeles, CA
July 18, 2007

L.A.’s 25th annual Outfest took a break from the film festivities to celebrate music in Echo Park earlier this summer. Starting off the evening in a low-key tone was the Emily Wells Trio. On the dark stage, illuminated mainly by the lights in her hair, Wells encouraged the audience to come closer — but it was her music that really brought the audience in. Jazzy tunes like “e.e. cummings” and “Mt. Washington” fit cozily with the room’s mellow atmosphere, and Sam Halterman’s drums, combined with Joey Reina’s upright bass, created a platform of moody darkness for Wells’ heavenly vocals. Like a mix of Nina Simone and Björk, Wells bled emotion with every word. Halfway through the set, Wells decided to change up the songs and showcased a line-up of symphonies she’d been working on. With only her fiddle and a pedal, Wells layered violin melodies together over a mix of piano, creating her own entrancing orchestra.

“Are you ready?” Redcar frontwoman Heather Reid asked a screaming crowd as Ryan Macmillan ripped on his drums. Perhaps not! The violin and cello that peppered Redcar’s sound in a few songs could hardly stand up to the heavy wails and bass rhythms that blasted through the speakers. But it was this thick party sound that ultimately helped Redcar win over the audience. Reid’s confidence in herself and her music shot from her reeling vocals on songs like “How Do You Like Me Now.” Jon Skibic’s guitar solos had enough melody and climactic tendencies to keep up with Reid’s harping cries and spastic dance moves, and in tandem, they conjured up a Heart or Pat Benetar-like effect. This was especially apparent on dance anthem “Out of Love.“

Lavender Diamond took the night around yet another turn with their anthems of pure joy and love. In her soft pink prom dress, Becky Stark applauded for peace on earth and sang, “I’ll never stop a bullet / But a bullet might stop me,” on the hippy-folk tune “The Garden Rose.” There was fearlessness in Stark’s voice as she rose to a falsetto on songs like “Side of the Lord” and “Oh No.” Even when she didn’t hit it, she smiled brightly and continued to dance. Despite the humorous antics, wild stories and endless happy birthday songs to friends, Lavender Diamond displayed serious musical skills. On stage, the intricate guitar of Devon Williams, Steve Gregoropoulos’ light keys, and the commanding rhythms of Ron Rege Jr. on his two drums and tambourine rivaled the intensity of earlier bands. With Stark’s voice at the helm, the band ended on a triumphant note.

-Review by Megan Clinard; photo by Megan Rosenfeld