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NYC's S-S-Spectres burried the Eagle's Nest (Northampton, MA) at sea Saturday night with their angular math core and interstitial tales of the dead and dying...er something. It's conceptual, and I don't have it all figured out yet. But sorrowful punk tales, or aggressive (sea) chantey core might begin to suggest what the trio known as S-S-Spectre produces.
Admittedly, this style of start-and-stop frantic rock with often indecipherable screams for lead vocals is not something that I know much about, follow, or crave, though I as a sixteen-year-old driving around aimlessly in Parkersburg, WV, my car's tape deck spun S-S-Spectres older cousin Fugazi, but with Dinosaur Jr., The Pixies, and R.E.M. getting the most airplay in my jalopy. But I was aware of the D.C. scene (Dischord) from friends, skaters, and a girl I met (and subsequently loved) in a Hardee's™ parking lot where the skaters tried their tricks and were harrassed by the fuzz. We drove to Fugazi shows in Columbus, OH, regularly and were always blown away for five bucks.
And with S-S-Spectres there are echoes of D.C. punk and hardcore, and the songs are delivered with a similarly high energy level. To be sure, there are intricate time changes and vocal-triggered switches that are impressive both LIVE and recorded. Melody does not play a large role in the songs. The guitar and bass play mostly percussive roles. On top of all this, there are often multiple vocals with distinct lyrics, so it's a lot to take in all at once. "Onslaught" comes to mind. Sudden onset aural input. Not s-s-something you hear everyday in the Valley. Different is Good™, right The River????? [cut to: Fly By Night Ad... fade out..."And now another hit from Van Morrisson..." (radio jab stolen from k.b.s.)]
Check them out here: http://www.myspace.com/sssspectres
Caught about 30 minutes of "Stand Up Get Down" at the Brass Cat on Saturday before HARPER rocked the house. The Northampton-based band of teensters played with an energy level you don't often see at barroom shows in the Valley, with musicianship and I-don't-care uniforms to match. I'd guess that the Valley's High School set has known of them for awhile, but they don't call, they don't write, they don't let us know what's going on, these kids. We have to learn about these things by chance.
"Stand Up Get Down" is playing South Hadley and Northampton (@ Pearl St.) soon. Check them out. They have a record out on Top Shelf Records. They play hard. They're cute as can be but send a chaperone along with your daughters and sons just to be safe. My only complaint about the show I witnessed is that the guitars could've been louder and/or more overdriven, but maybe I'm just getting old. Check them out on MySpace here.
Last month, a friend with whom I tend to attend concerts called me with an extra ticket to a sold-out Dresden Dolls show at the Paradise Rock Club in Boston. Familiar with the locally-based band only in passing, I liked what I knew of them. However, their self-description perplexed me: “Brechtian punk cabaret” (As much as I love creative descriptions of one’s own sound, they often serve more to make a potential listener curious than to give him an accurate concept of what the band actually sounds like.) Arriving at the Paradise, the “cabaret” part was immediately apparent from the opening acts: human marionettes; a fascinating fellow named Thomas Truax, who played an instrument of his own invention called the Hornicator; and an Australian contortionist.
After much anticipation (some of it nervous, as many in the crowd were outfitted in punk-goth combos, and I was wearing jeans and a sweater), the Dresden Dolls took the stage. I am often skeptical of musicians who wear make-up when they perform; I tend to associate them with aloof and posturing stage presences. But Amanda Palmer (the strikingly charismatic vocalist/pianist) and Brian Viglione (the drummer and, for a few songs, guitarist) presently transcended the white face paint and the sometimes-hokey opening acts. Their connection with the audience was palpable. The make-up and black and white punk-Victorian outfits served to lend an air of theatricality, yes (the “Brecht” part?), but by no means did the style ever trump the substance.
Occasionally they struck me as what Ben Folds Five might have sounded like had they performed in Weimar Germany at the Kit Kat Club fronted by an angrier and less British Kate Winslet (indeed, Brian reminded me somewhat of Joel Grey’s Emcee, even excepting the make-up and eventual lack of shirt). Like BF5, the DDs bring a unique approach to punk rock by replacing the traditional guitar with a piano – in this case without the benefit of a bass – and in doing so, sound less punk than… well, something else. Comparisons to other female piano-playing singer/songwriters are inevitable, but inaccurate. The music is not nearly as baroque as Fiona Apple and never enters the Lilith Fair territory of Tori Amos. It incorporates elements of twisted lullaby, broken music box and friendly carnival midway without ever obscuring the emotional power of Amanda’s lyrics. “Brechtian punk cabaret” does them plenty of justice, but in the end really only accurately depicts their live show and overall aesthetic. Upon listening only to their recorded work (one self-titled studio album and a live album “A is for Accident”) it’s clear that the Dresden Dolls simply play pop songs, however gothic. But don’t take my word for it: you can download several mp3s from their website. (Also – providing you like what you hear – be sure to check out the link to a video of the Dresden Dolls on Morning Becomes Eclectic.) “Half Jack” (sung from the point of view of a hermaphrodite) is a particularly compelling example.
As the night wore on, the show grew increasingly personal. I became an unwitting attendant to the Dresden Dolls’ good-bye-to-Boston party. Twice Amanda began aborted confessions to the conflicted feelings spurred by leaving the nurturing confines of America’s largest small town for the impending national spotlight (in a mere three days, fate would find them on tour as support for Nine Inch Nails). She addressed both her close friends in the balcony and her fans in general the same way: as a group of confidantes. The audience that night was a group representative of the place the Dresden Dolls called home. The city that will soon become no more than “where they came from.”
It turned out to be Amanda’s birthday later in the week (her thirtieth, about which she had reservations – “You’re not old!” the audience reassured her). At the end of the night, she took large handfuls of the birthday cake her friends had brought up on stage and fed them to eager fans at the front of the stage. It didn’t matter that prior to the concert I had known a total of three Dresden Dolls songs. I had been witness to (and participant in) the end of one chapter in the existence of a band.
My friend Matthew introduced me to the Wrens early last year. He didn't loan me their record per se, but he had loaned me his car for a few weeks and had unwittingly left The Wren's latest full-length "Meadowlands" in the CD player. So I listened to it, over and over, and a few commutes into the week I accidentally turned up the volume way too loud and that's when I really fell in love with the record. The songs, the production, all of it.
So when I learned that The Wrens were playing a show at Great Scott in Allston, MA, I very excitedly got tickets. Great Scott holds a few hundred people maybe, a small venue for The Wrens who have had deserved success with "Meadowlands." Wish you were there? Well, you missed a great show. The out of focus shot below (taken by John McCarthy of the band National Carpet) gives you a sense of the very intoxicating scene, and if you CLICK HERE you can hear a brief soundbite of the crowd and an extended outro, recorded on my iPod with the iTalk mic adapter (that is to say, low quality).
Just do yourself a favor and buy all their records, especially "Meadowlands," and read their BIO on wrens.com, as soon as you can HERE ON WWW.WRENS.COM
As a total bonus, local rockers The Information opened for the Wrens. The evening was organized to celebrate the 2nd Anniversary of THE PLAN, which best I can tell seems to be a roving rock show/happening in Boston about which I need to learn more. [If you know the skinny on The Plan in Boston, educate us and leave a comment below.]
The Information rocked (repeat, RAWKED), and the band wins my insignificant vote for Best Looking band I heard live in May 2005. Nice folks too. Check out their record "Mistakes we knew we were making" and catch their live show if you have the chance. Learn more about The Information at theinformation.net
The first time I ever heard this band was two days ago, March 14th at The Elevens in Northampton, MA. There was a small but enthusiastic crowd that battled the Monday doldrums by treating themselves to a night of music. Local favorites The Winterpills put on a great show just before the Early Day Miners took the stage.
I have always loved when my first exposure to a band is through their live music. It makes for an immediate, memorable account of what first captivated you about them. A couple of things occurred to me within the first few minutes of their performance. First of all they were producing a lot of rich, full music for three people (Dan Burton guitar/vocals, Jonathan Richardson bass, Matt Griffin drums). Then there was the meditative, introspective atmosphere that so strongly reminded me of Mark Kozelek of the Red House Painters. The subtle rhythms and mellow, slow-core similarities were obvious. However, I soon forgot about comparing Early Day Miners to bands I had already heard. Their ghost-filled mood is reminiscent of some, but unique enough in its layered content. The songs have an almost ethereal narrative to them, very difficult to grasp, but with enough intrigue to peacefully contemplate. And along the way, the spiraling instrumentals pleasantly distract the listener: the intricate, sailing guitars, cascading drums, and hushed vocals of Dan Burton that seem to be whispering at you, relating a dream, or telling a bedtime story. While all this was ricocheting around my brain, I was slapped awake by how good the drummer, Matt Griffin, was: spastic but controlled, robotic but controlled by soul. Probably the most defining aspect of the performance was brought to light when my friend leaned over and remarked, "You can always tell, almost immediately, when youre watching a band made up of good listeners." These three guys were totally locked in on one another. There seemed to be no time for anticipation on their part, their dynamics hushed and grew with un-signaled understanding; it was a pleasure to watch such honed musical instinct.
I would definitely see this band again; it struck me as the kind of music where repeated listening brings out gems of surprise that previously went unnoticed. That observation is a tribute to the interwoven complexity of the compositions. If you dont get the chance to see this band live, and even if you do, they have a brand new record out (featuring a larger ensemble), All Harm Ends Here, available on CD or LP at Insound. And for more about them and their history, check out their web site.
This show was amazing. The room at P.A.C.E. is quite excellent; cabaret style seating, nice acoustics, community theatre feel. And everyone rocked. Kevin O'Rourke draped the audience in that dark-sweet-honey voice of his. There is a stillness about him that is alarming considering his music and lyrics are so full of force and energy. J Johnson, who wastes no note, breath, or lyric, was beautiful. I can’t seem to hear enough of his sleepy, smoky ballad “I Do”. He is always right there with you; always.
Matt Sutton (pictured above) of the Malarkies blew me away. This was my first experience with anything Malarkie. I was under his spell for sure -- some kind of contagious trance. His twelve-string was like his third arm, and second voice, singing gorgeous and discordant melodies and rhythm. His command was so skilled and deliberate, yet totally unpredictable and surprising at every turn. And once the soul of the music is swirling around through the air, there are his lyrics to contend with: dreamlike, psychedelic, familiar, poetic….I could go on and on, but you really should just listen to the music. I recommend “Everything Must Go” for starters. Listen to EVERYTHING MUST GO from The Malarkies' album "Best Map."
And then to cap off the night, Mark Schwaber and band were electric. His album Two Years Thirty Minutes is now burned into my brain – again. And these guys were having fun. Matt Cullen was like a mad chemist on the guitar; one minute meticulously running effects, the next, just rocking with visceral abandon. It is always such a pleasure to watch musicians who not only enjoy playing together, but also truly enjoy the music they are playing.
In fact, the whole evening felt this way. Watching every one of these artists makes you feel as if you were watching a show with them, not by them, and that they feel just as lucky and privileged to be there as you do.
The entirely unofficial neverheardofthem company winter picnic took place last night at the Iron Horse for the Lou Barlow show. As you may know, Lou is just a few days into tour for his brand new record "EMOH," which is so tender and lovely and sad and sincere. See the rest of his tour dates HERE ON LOOBIECORE.COM Track 1, "Holding back the year" is my current favorite. The driving guitar strum and soaring melody line somehow make you very aware of feeling alive in a moment, like the time as a kid when you were chasing lightning bugs in a field with your best friend, pretending to fly--and then you both actually took flight for twenty yards or so and you collectively decided without speaking that it was best to never tell anyone.
Mark Schwaber opened the evening and Anne Pinkerton joined him for most of the set. Her harmonies were lovely, and we all talked about how great the sound was in that room. If you missed Schwaber and Anne last night, catch them with a full band Friday, March 11 at PACE in Easthampton, MA. You can listen to tracks from Mark's record "Two Years and Thirty Minutes" on Garageband.com
***[Author note #17: Me. Parkersburg, WV. Jr. High School. Joey Wetherall loans me a tape of Sebadoh's "Weed Forest'n." Never heard anything like that before. What does "Sebadoh" mean anyway? Know one knows. This ads to the mystique. Dinosaur Jr. tapes are in circulation among our set too. At some point kids begin to choose sides. You're either with Sebadoh or Dinosaur. A heated argument takes place while repeatedly attempting skater tricks in a bank parking lot. It's mid-July. It starts to rain and we all sit down and let the rain soak us for the debate. It's heavy. I suggest that one doesn't have to choose sides. The olive branch I've extended is quickly snapped in two with a "whatever." Someone calls someone else a dick. Just the rain and no talking for awhile. Soon we'll all have to walk to our homes for dinner.]
First a confession, I'm hung over. I didn't mean to be hung over, but I am. I blame the band, they didn't go on until about 12:30 and then I just couldn't bring myself to leave once they started. Victory at Sea played with Brandon Butler and Frank Smith and Chris Keene at Great Scott's in Allston Rock City.
First a little atmosphere. I boarded the bus in Cambridge around 8:45. It was ice cold but not a flake to be seen. By the time I stepped off the bus in Allston at 9:00 the snow was falling fast and furious and there was already a layer of slick snow covering the sidewalk. That said, there was a good-sized crowd and a lot of people stayed for the whole show. It appears that live music is alive and well and doesn't take snow days (or nights).
Victory at Sea is a four-piece band from Boston (unfortunately their violin player was in Japan) who have been around for ten years and have put out five records on three different labels. Over time they have morphed from a stripped down edgy guitar-bass-drums trio to a still-edgy but much more lush and full sounding four piece with violin, keyboard, guitar and drums. Mona Elliot's vocals and guitar playing are captivating. Picking clean lines and runs on her telecaster. She frequently leans back away from the mic and weaves her voice through the music, receding into the eaves and then climbing back onto center stage. Mel's keyboards rise and fall from almost funky to bass heavy accompaniment to rich wall of sound.
These guys are definitely worth a listen, check out their site - http://www.victoryatsea.net - and find out when they are coming to your town. Also Brandon Butler was cool, I talked to him about the merits of good stage banter. Also check out their label Gern Blandsten for some more cool bands.
