Photo by Stephanie Hierholzer
RUBYHORSE, KINGSIZE, ELCODRIVE
The Paradise 1/31/03

As soon as Elcodrive start their set, they begin to offend me. First of all, they look like Barbie dolls, all dressed up in Guess clothing which has apparently been graciously donated to the boys as part of a sponsorship deal. Embarrassing as this is to look at, the music makes the outfits look dignified. Elcodrive plays a set of insipidly hyper-sincere pop calculated to make high school girls swoon at their proms. Their sound is so far in the middle of the road that I figure they’ll be flattened by a speeding semi if they don’t look both ways until they get whiplash. Discernible influences appear to be Bryan Adams and John Cougar Mellencamp, and if that doesn’t scare the shit out of you, go see this band! This is Elcodrive’s CD listening party, and a handful of fans are nodding along with the spewing pap, mainly young female fans that seem to find singer Marc Golarz dreamy.

Now if you want to talk dreamy, give me Adrian Holz any day. I see I’m not alone in this sentiment, because Kingsize brings people out of the woodwork and suddenly the place has some rock ‘n’ roll energy. Kingsize knows how to be big, really big, and it works for them on songs like “More Than I Can Stand,” “Little Too Lovely,” and “Sunshine.” But there’s a duality to Kingsize’s music that I put down to Adrian’s Swedish roots. Their set loses steam when they launch into cheesy pop songs like “All The Way From Nowhere” and “She Said.” I can only figure that, growing up in Europe, Adrian was a little too exposed to the sappy pop that Europeans seem to embrace, but leaves Americans shaking our heads at its corniness. When Kingsize is “on,” they put on a seriously mesmerizing show, but they need to stay focused on the big rock, and get away from the more hackneyed sounding stuff if they’re going to be convincing to a rock audience.

Rubyhorse simply bores me. After exploding into their set with a big U2-type first song, the life drains out of them and leaves me looking around for something to do to amuse myself until it’s over. Fortunately, my friends have the same reaction, so we leave. Sweet. (Laura Slapikoff)

JAKE BRENNAN
Toad 1/26/03

Whatever that indefinable “it” is that some folks are born with and that few will ever attain, that special something that makes a crowd fall silent in attentive awe with eyes locked on a performer, that quality that makes all one’s cares and troubles disappear for the length of a set of songs, Jake Brennan’s got in spades. I’ve been catching Jake just about every chance I get for the past two years both solo and with his band, The Confidence Men, because he’s one of the very few people I’ve ever seen who can make a packed room fall dead silent with just his voice and an acoustic guitar. In that time he’s matured from a warm, Elvis Costello-inspired vocal style to an original sounding rough-hewn croon, and his guitar playing has become a showcase for walking bass lines, solo fills and excellent rhythm work. Tonight he plays two long sets of original material and even has the audacity to cover Big Star’s “Thirteen,” The Stones’ “Gimmie Shelter,” Lefty Frizzell’s “Long Black Veil,” and Dylan’s “Million Miles From You” and make them sound entirely his own-no mean feat. It’s Superbowl Sunday and there are only eight people (including the bartender) in attendance, but good for me-I stretch out in a booth and watch Jake’s dad, the inimitable Dennis Brennan, casually sing backup vocals from his barstool when the mood strikes him. Superb. (Mike Baldino)

MAPPARI, AVERI
The Paradise 1/31/03

The marquee lists the show as being sold out. Damn, that’s an impressive feat for a national act, let alone an all local bill. I miss the opening band, Labb, but have heard great things about them. Mappari, on the other hand, I know very well and I’m lucky enough to catch one of their best sets to date. Solid pop tinted with heavy powerful riff rock has the crowd’s attention. A large cluster of females churn in front of the stage looking up at Will Dailey admiringly. The band is busting out a lot of new songs which seem to go well with the audience. Like most of the Mappari songs, each tune is very radio friendly, complete with big catchy choruses and meaty hooks.
Things take a turn for me when headliner, Averi, takes the stage. After two songs, my date declares she hates them and tells me she has to leave. Her description of Averi is “one of the most boring, bland, unoriginal bands that I have ever seen, representing the worst of local music.” I have to mention in Averi’s defense, she was kind of a bitch and I stayed back to fulfill my Noise reporting duties. Though not exactly my style of music, it seems like the masses love these guys, eating up their Phil Collins/ Dave Matthews vibe. I’ve got a high threshold for all kinds of music but when they started doing bad ’80s covers, like Tears for Fears’ “Everybody Wants to Rule the World,” I too had to exit the building. (Kier Byrnes)

GODBOXER, ARMY OF JASONS
The Linwood 2/7/03

I could’ve sworn that there were more Jasons in Army of Jasons than just singer/guitarist Geoff Hayton but as I enter The Linwood, he is the only one on stage playing. It seems that there was a miscommunication tonight causing AOJ’s bass player to arrive late. It’s unclear as to why Army of Jasons couldn’t have switched spots with the headliner, Godboxer, but instead, Hayton handles the situation professionally and performs solo, giving a Cliff’s Notes version of what Army of Jasons is about ñ melodic, poppy songs with strong vocals accompanied by a bleakness and bitterness in the lyrics. When the rest of the Jasons arrive, they rush the stage, plug in, and launch head first into what’s left of their set. They come off as a Beatles and Byrds tandem, with Hayton and Brett Rosenberg nailing the many harmonies throughout their songs. Everything is well crafted from the song structures to the bass lines to the lyrics. It’s an abbreviated set but Army of Jasons delivers under duress.

Things must be running late, because Godboxer gets up and starts playing faster than I could grab a couple sixteen ounce PBRs from the bar. Specializing in heavy and melodic pop songs that tend to lack anything that is catchy or memorable, Godboxer remind me of Goo Goo Dolls meets The Sheila Divine. But without the hooks. Their songs fade from memory as quickly as one ends and the next begins. After each song the band receives a spattering of applause from the increasingly thinning crowd. The room is probably emptying because (a) we got eleven inches of snow today and (b) the bulk of this crowd came to see Army of Jasons and left at the end of their set. There are a few interesting things happening towards the end of Godboxer’s set but my attention and that of the crowd is elsewhere now. (Richie Hoss)

THE KENMORES
Bill’s Bar 1/16/03

The place is pretty damn full despite the fact that one of the bands on the bill canceled and after a delayed start, The Kenmores leap up on stage. They show no mercy as they take the bull by the horns, kicking out some old school punk rock cover tunes. It’s a high energy pace and I wonder if these guys will be able to pull out the whole set without someone dropping. The Kenmores are no spring chickens, but they rock as hard as any angst-filled teenage punk I have ever seen. I only recognize a couple of tunes; if I hadn’t known better I would think they were all kick ass originals. After the show I run up and grab the set list off the stage to check out what songs they played so I can add the original versions of these tunes to my CD collection soon. The Kenmores put on one hell of a show. (Kier Byrnes)

AQUEDUCT (name change: The Silent Wheel), TIGER SAW, COWGIRL HANGOVER
The Milky Way 2/6/03

TRIPLE THICK, LAST STAND, THE ACTION
Abbey Lounge 2/8/03

If you’re looking for an MTV friendly pop punk band right here in town, look for The Action. They’re a poppy, punky, fast, and cute three piece. And they have tattoos on their necks and gel in their hair. TRL, here they come. I feel like I’m looking at Good Charlotte. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. If these kids find themselves in the right place at the right time, they’re a good bet to get snagged up by some sleazeball fast talker and marketed up the ladder for a few months. They’re completely easy to listen to and after one trip through the chorus of any of their songs, you’re singing along.

I like rock ‘n’ roll music and so does the next band, Last Stand. The first part of the set is deep in Boston punk rock like The USM but with a real heavy Chuck Berry influence, which makes for some real fast, catchy rock ‘n’ roll. The gravelly vocals backed by bluesy bass lines and rippin’ drum work make this band one to see again and again. Midway through the set, where the tone shifts to a more straight ahead punk rock style, it is clear that this band is kicking ass tonight. Last Stand never lets up and each song is either a rocker or a stomper. The bridge between band and audience is erased during the last song in a touching sequence of events. The PA kicks out leaving only the drums still audible. No guitar, no bass, no mics. But there are vocals, and just not on stage-the audience takes the ball and finishes singing the song themselves before the PA comes back to life for the last chorus.

Local mainstays, Triple Thick, have to follow Last Stand tonight, which is going to be tough. But Triple Thick jumps right out with their Boston rock ‘n’ roll. Most of the crowd came to see Last Stand tonight so the room is only half full now. But that means they’re missing songs like “Lookin’ for a Nice Girl,” a rocker with a classic vibe to it. In fact, there’s a lot about Triple Thick that’s classic, to the singer with The Bags T-shirt to the fact that they sound like The Troggs came back and picked up The Beatles along the way. Lots of pop, rock, and sing-a-long choruses. Can’t blame ’em for being catchy. They get a little sloppy and make some mistakes, but it’s the end of the night and we’ve all been drinking. They close their set with a bunch of covers, but it’s “Lookin’ for a Nice Girl” that I’m humming as I wander out of The Abbey. (Richie Hoss)

DOS NOUN & ICON THE MIC, THE WITNESS PROTECTION PROGRAM, DJ LOBSTA & DJ JAYCEEOH
Club Embassy 1/22/03

Some friends are heading over to see a hip hop night at Axis on Lansdowne St. Intrigued by the experience, I tag along wondering how the other half lives. It being my first local hip hop concert, I wonder what it will be like. I’m hoping things are going to be like the typical hip hop videos they show on BET and MTV; a gang of thugs and P Diddy wannabes sporting the “bling bling,” surrounded by a horde of scantily clad ladies. Unfortunately, the crowd is actually nothing like that at all. The crowd is pretty diverse, peppered with a lot of Eminem clones, dudes with dreadlocks, and white chicks with really baggy pants. Sadly, the fifteen dollar cover, two dollar coat check, and six dollar beers leave my wallet hurting. I guess the rap world is indeed all about da money.

The first act I catch is Dos Noun & Icon the Mic, who are basically a duo with one guy playing records while another guy shouts over them trying to stir up the crowd. Basically, there is a lot of that “Put your hands up in the air” crap. I can’t really decide whether this is a creative art form or just karaoke gone bad. The one dude with the mic is now totally emulating Eminem, perhaps having seen the movie Eight Mile one too many times. Will the real Slim Shady please stand up?

The next act is a seven-piece and though they also have someone scratching turntables in the background, they play all the music on their own instruments. Their music is upbeat and fun, and they seem way more into playing than theatrics. I dig these guys a lot better than the earlier act. Like most rap, the music is engaging with call and response, but also carries a strong groove the audience can nod to the beat and chill to. The two front men exchange rhymes back and forth with amazing speed and delicate precision leading me to believe that all good rappers were good at tongue-twisters when they were kids.

It’s back to no instruments for the next part of the show. Two guys, DJ Lobsta & DJ Jayceeoh with two turntables each, set up across from each other as if it were a duel, playing assorted break beats while spinning records back and forth. What it amounts to is a ton of record scratching that makes the room sound as if it’s being invaded by a giant zipper, or there was a super-amplified pair of corduroy pants walking down the hall. All in all, hip hop night cost me a ton of dough. I had enough, get me back to the Abbey Lounge. Worldpeace! (Kier Byrnes)

DANA MIER
The Paradise 2/1/03

Dana Mier, a new female singer/songwriter, is bounding onstage in the middle slot between a boring acoustic set by a member of Dispatch and the frat rockers Virginia Coalition. Dana takes the stage with a four-piece band, brandishing an acoustic guitar, and an altered Rolling Stones T-Shirt that sums up the attitude of the set. The band takes off in a rocking direction that turns a majority of the crowd away from their beers. Though she meddles with the folk and country end of the songwriting canon on a few songs, this woman is willing to drop pretense and rock out. The crowd responds with unheard of enthusiasm for a band that is essentially new to the scene. A few fists get raised in the sign of the metal devil horns. People flock to the lobby to grab some CD samples and meet Dana after the set. (Jerome Leslie)

PHANTOM LIMB, HELD UNDER, SHADOWS OF THE UNSEEN
Boston’s Dead
O’Briens 2/6/03

The Arctic cold outside serves as a perfect backdrop for this month’s installment of Boston’s Dead at O’Brien’s. Tonight it’s an all Black/Death Metal lineup.

Kicking off the heresy is New Bedford’s Shadows of The Unseen. This fantastic lineup sounds like a devastating storm in the depths of Valhalla. Their compositions resemble chaotic forces of nature in their structure and execution. Lightning-echo-crackle thunder-rumble-bass-staccato runs into demonic-gargle-vocals above hellpit-volcanic-drum-chaos molten-rock-guitar riffs. Iron Maiden meets Venom meets Cradle of Filth. Definitely Black Metal all the way. The singer’s body is gesticulating, bent tensely as he channels dark forces and the band rages behind him. They provide a fitting invocation for this dark rite. This is world class Death Metal.

Next comes the Deathcore stylings of Held Under. Driven by one of the best double-kick drummers in the region, these guys are like an Apache attack ‘copter cutting a swath across an enemy target. The guitars are cruel and sludgy, full of a misery that would be inexpressible with words. But the lead singer is trying anyway, gargling horror one minute and going quasi-Mike Patton the next. His vocal range is echoed by the whole band as they shift gears from fire and brimstone doom into an almost pop-Deathcore song called “Left With Wreckage.” By the end of their set, it’s obvious these guys have a broad musical range and one of the meanest metal ìgallops since the early ’80s. I’m still trying to grasp this ability for range when they jump into a cover of Anthrax’s “Indians.” It brought a tear to this aging metalhead’s eye.

Phantom Limb couldn’t have been more aptly named. The guitarist/vocalist and drummer were up there on O’Brien’s stage without any bassist or rhythm guitarist in sight. Like a person missing limbs. Yes, we’re witnessing a two-piece Death Metal unit, and it’s inspiring. At times, you could see the two musicians anticipating the actions of musicians that weren’t there, but after a time, their performance becomes an exercise in adaptability and evolution. They’re hardwired together and they’re roaring through their set. It’s like the drummer and guitarist are experiencing the same abandonment issues, and that bond is fueling their performance. This duet is pulling off some of the heaviest stuff we’ve seen tonight in this roomful of world class musicians, and the audience is loving it. They don’t want them to leave the stage, but the Coors Light sign goes on and that’s the end of another Boston’s Dead at O’Brien’s. (Joe Hacking)

ALL EYES ON, TWO STEPS TO INFINITY, BLACKLINE, CANNON
T.T. The Bears 1/23/03

All Eyes On is really a great name for this band. The way they rock, it’s hard to keep your eyes off them. It doesn’t hurt that their lead singer, Anna, looks like a Norwegian goddess who can hammer out notes as if she were Thor. The confidence in her voice is as strong as ever, but it’s almost a shock to hear how soft and gentle it also can be as she banters with the crowd between songs. However, the group as a whole seems to be lacking the energy they had the last time I saw them at TTs. Regardless, the set ends strong and I’m left gasping for more, which is good because Two Steps To Infinity are up next.

It’s the CD release party of Two Steps To Infinity and the place is jammed. These guys have a lot in common with All Eyes On; they’re also a balls to the wall rock outfit with a kick-ass female frontman. The songs are tight and the set builds nicely, with each song outshining the song before. The crowd is eating it up. The folks in Two Steps couldn’t look happier or more comfortable as they peer out over the crowd. It’s one hell of a rock show and the set seems like it ends too quickly. I wonder who is up next.

I’ve never heard of Blackline, though it looks like they were bused in from Revere. Four dudes, two wearing black tank tops and two wearing white button downs, play the worst jock rock this side of a Patriots tailgate party. The lead singer, who happens to be using an earpiece monitor, is inadvertently doing some of the lamest rock poses I have ever seen. I try to keep from laughing aloud hysterically as fellow Noise writer Richie Hoss tears these guys apart. They are so cheesy, it almost becomes entertaining. Almost.

The last band up is Cannon, who throws a curve into the hard rockin’ theme of the night by dishing up some pretty well presented indie rock. There’s a pretty high level of musicianship in this band and I have to give credit to frontman/lead guitarist, Tim O’Connor for putting it together. Tim has been part of the Boston music scene for years, but this is his first band and I must say, it’s pretty good. Part REM, part Sheila Divine, I even got a little STP vibe in the sense that the music has its share of muscle. I find out after the show that the band’s bass player is leaving the group. Too bad, as these guys show a lot of potential- but I’m sure they’ll be back in some form or another. (Kier Byrnes)

HELD UNDER
O’Brien’s 2/6/03

Ever walk into a club and immediately know that you’ve just wasted five bucks? This Thursday night at O’Brien’s appears to be headed in that pointless hardcore/ metal direction. There are too many telling signs. The entire crowd consists primarily of males in dark, hooded sweatshirts with baseball caps jammed down on their heads who are eagerly anticipating Godsmack’s next release. Held Under waits for the previous band to completely clear off the stage before they can start setting up their most important piece of equipment-their fifteen foot white banner. After thirty minutes of Held Under hanging banners and setting up double bass drum kits with more cymbals and brass than a marching band, I notice that the lead guitarist has been quietly standing on stage for the last fifteen minutes, wanking on his very pointy guitar, practicing fret board tapping and other guitar hero techniques. By now, I’m positive that the lead singer (complete with Metallica back patch) is going to get up and deep throat the mic while grunting for thirty minutes. And that is exactly what happens. It’s not so much that the music is bad. But it is just monotonous, boring, unimaginative and simplistic. It’s music for people who think Superbowl commercials are funny. The demonic screaming and the overdriven Pantera style guitars make this band go the way of their banner – crashing to the floor, which is really too bad since it took so long to hang. (Richie Hoss)

THE FERNS
The Compound (Fitchburg, MA) 1/23/03

I’m back at the place that’s big on atmosphere, small on sound. That is why I’m positioned (groupie-like) near the biggest speaker. Okay, the band’s not bad to look at either. These Umass Amherst students are back in their old neighborhood. Why there aren’t more people here is beyond me. The Ferns are better than I would have expected. Two songs in particular stand out. “Spend the Night” is a catchy pop love song, and “I Want a Woman” is a true gem. The latter was penned as a nod to the Black Crowes. It is surprisingly mature, well thought-out, and well played. These songs defeat their others, which are sadly out of tune. The Ferns should spend more time practicing, less time studying. Singer Ryan Bourque amazes us though, with his eerie cover of “Rape Me.” Picture the kid from the movie Almost Famous with Kurt Cobain’s voice. Anyway, with practice, they will do all right. There is ENORMOUS potential, and did I mention they’re not bad to look at? (Sue O.)

Bands: Please be advised that shows are never assigned for review. If you’re doing something even remotely exceptional, we’ll be the first to tell the world. If you’re horrible, same thing.

Photo by John Soares   

PAULA KELLEY
Kimchee Records
The Trouble with Success or How You Fit into the World
13 songs

Embrace Paula Kelley. She has earned this moment.

After spending time establishing her delicate voice with shoegazers The Drop Nineteens, and local indie outfits Hot Rod and Boy Wonder, Kelley debuted her solo self with 2001’s Nothing/ Everything. Her second album takes the shimmer of her debut and magnifies it, fusing space-age pop vocals with sassy hooks. And if it ended there The Trouble with Success would be brilliant enough. But Kelley doesn’t stop. Throw in some orchestral maneuvers and plenty of horn play and Kelley and the 38-member PK Orchestra dazzle with delectable pop magic.

Kelley’s got this engaging voice that takes over where Lisa Loeb labors and where the sound of Cardigans frontwoman Nina Perrson starts to lose its beauty. Flanked by The PK Orchestra string section on “Could There be Another World,” Kelley makes a depressing story sound promising with her enchanting echoes, while on “My Finest Hour,” Kelley explores a bouncier pop sound which yields similar results. Many albums fail to carry throughout without sagging somewhere along the way. The Trouble with Success doesn’t do that. Actually, it will have you begging for an encore. (Ryan Wood)

QUICK FIX
Lonesome Records
The Push
12 songs

The first Quick Fix CD captured the band’s live sound perfectly. Crank “Rampage” and a crystalline vision of Jake Zavracky screaming “Yeah!” over the din of a pentatonic riff comes to mind. The second Quick Fix CD was more song-oriented and melodic, but sometimes bordered on clichéd (see “Holiday”).

“The Push” seems to take both sides and improve on them both simultaneously. It’s more musically ambitious; they use the studio as a member of the band and not just to capture the band’s sound. The guitars are thicker; I hear acoustics in the mix and more adventurous guitar effect. The songs are better too; “Adrenaline Junkies” has to be the song of the year so far.

The closing track “Time to Say Goodnight,” is a microcosm of what Quick Fix has added to their already stellar live show: serious lyrics, a sense of song, great harmonies (kudos to new member Eric Barlow) and a majestic, understated approach to melodic guitar soloing. A stellar CD. (Glenwood)

THE WEISSTRONAUTS
Stereoriffic
Pete Weiss Presents the Weisstronauts Featuring “Spritely”
15 songs

What if JFK hadn’t been slain, and bands like The Raspberries and Big Star and The Ventures had unaccountably elbowed disco and punk out into left field? Then maybe an assemblage of pan-instrumental, feel-good, easy-to-swallow genre exercises would be tearing up the airwaves even as we speak. Well, wait no more for such a world, because we have the next best thing while we listen to this invaluable CD. Tell me Alex Chilton couldn’t have written “Fruity” and I’ll tickle your catastrophe. The CD is chock full of musical laffs (check out “Tawdry”) and folksy genre send-ups (“Spritely”) but it’s more than just a joke. The coda to “Cha Cha Ho” is heavenly; the riff and sock-o-delic middle eight from “Cranky” deserve a prize, and “Space Jaunty” is wretched excess at its most likable and listenable. Times are tough and this frivolous but musically sound assemblage is great ironic lounge music even for when you’re waiting for the Apocalyptic horse – and if hedonism rather than geopolitics is your bag, so much the better. You’ll dig this the most. It would make even Catullus gyrate like a toy boat caught out at sea in a wind grown wild with adult pain. (Francis DiMenno)

VARIOUS ARTISTS
Sleazegrinder Records
Cock ‘n’ Roll
26 songs

Let me say up front that I’m a Sleazegrinder fan. Sleazegrinder, for the cave-dwellers among you who may not know, is the closest thing our fair city has to Lester Bangs (if you said “Lester who?” stop reading and go do your homework, child), and he has put his money where his gonzo-rock-crit mouth is by unleashing this massive compilation of the sleaziest rock he could track down. And if you have to ask what, exactly, comprises sleazy rock, odds are good that this comp just ain’t for you. Okay, so only two of the 26 songs are by local bands – Rock City Crimewave’s Cramps-meet-The Gun Club “Jersey Devil” and Sugabomb’s “Speed Thrill,” which rocks just the way a song called “Speed Thrill” ought to rock, with kinda Runaways’ vocals to boot to add that bad-hot-rod-chick vibe. I could have lived without Porn Rock’s track, “Porn Star,” but it’ll get the yucks at your next party. And with 26 freakin’ songs on the disc, you can’t expect ’em all to be gems.

But most of them are.

Screw the local angle. Buy this because Sleazegrinder has found redemption through rock, and he is beckoning you to join him. (Tim Emswiler)

ERIK LINDGREN
Arf Arf
Sound on Sound: Ambitious Teenage Pop Rock 1973-’74
22 songs

Erik himself mentions his sound-on-sound demos from the early seventies in the same breath as the songs of Emitt Rhodes, former front-man for the LA psychedelic band as the Merry-Go-Round, and other influences also mentioned in the liner notes – solo Townshend, Brian Wilson, and Left-Banke style chamber rock – when not wholly obvious, are at least evident. If you are as ardent an aficionado of all of these, you will be well pleased. I myself am bound to admire the outright strangeness of these piano-driven pop-inflected finger exercises, enough to discount iffy vocals and sound quality and to focus instead on the considerable compositional ingenuity on display throughout. The songs are more than merely enjoyable and tunes like “Funny How You Treated My Friend,” “Searchin,” “Words Came Through,” “One Right Way to Win Me,” “The Leader,” and “Back Then” are downright swipe-worthy. Cynics might sneer at this unleashing of 79-plus minutes of 30-year-old juvenalia as self-indulgent at best – though admittedly, few egomaniacs would have waited until the 93rd release on their own label! (Francis DiMenno)

JEFFREY SIMMONS & THE SYMPTOMS
Sodapop
Almost… All The Way… Down
11 songs

Remember when Neil Young wasn’t some whacked out fogey doing third rate Preservation remakes? When The Beatles were all hopped up on LSD, singing about raccoons and walruses (walrusi?)? Jeffrey Simmons remembers. Not only does he remember, he remembers what was good about them and what was worth saving.

The music on his second disc – the first one to feature his band, The Symptoms – ebbs, flows and enters your brain like a drug. “Fill Your Glass,” “Unkind,” and “Broken Tire” hint at a beauty that Nico could have held on to, or the sad-dreaminess of a John Cale electric viola. Nate Bacon’s bass lines prove to be generations separated from the clodding, one-note thump of most of his peers, and Thomas Valicanti’s understated guitar work seems to weave in and out of the songs, reminiscent of a restrained Tom Verlaine.

This is pop genius we haven’t heard since Andy Partridge. (Amanda Nichols)

UNDO
Undomusic
Deux
7 songs

This is portentous synthesizer music with symphonic pretensions which, for all its bleak grandeur, it occasionally achieves, such as on the opening track “Ataraxia II,” which reminds me of OMD’s maleficent “Stanislow.” The longer, more ambitious “Moon Life” puts me in mind of the souls of the dead and dying who are longing to be expressed to heaven. It’s a bit like the sound you hear just before you wake up with a big knot on your head next to an empty nitrous oxide tank. Its companion piece, “Sun Life,” is both pacific and ominous, a tricky feat. As Abe Lincoln might say: “For those who like this sort of thing, this is the sort of thing they like.” (Francis DiMenno)

MY OWN WORST ENEMY
Elis Eil
No Guarantees
13 songs

Too often, between a first demo, a first EP, and a first full-length release, some intangible quality which helps to make a band great gets lost or misplaced in the mix. This happened to Throwing Muses and The Pixies. My Own Worst Enemy, on the other hand, has made the same transition with grace and aplomb. The older material is kickass as always: “Who Knew” is akin to “Roadrunner” fronted by a sloe-eyed chanteuse; “MIA” is like electroshock that makes you smarter. Delicately bleak and lovely ballads like “Why Not Beautiful,” “Pills and Pride,” and the superb “Late Show” vary the pace. “Poison” is a nascent classic with a desolately lively feel right up there with Human Switchboard; ditto the downright catchy dirge-cum-drunken-chantey “(I’m the One You Wanted) Not the One (You Got).” This isn’t a perfect CD, but even interesting experiments like the quaintly odd “Mr. Leatherboots,” overproduced declamations like “Throw It All Away” and the dynamic but misguided power-pop cover of “Never Talking to You” are ambitious efforts. And the CD’s craziest song, “Yearbook,” with its start and stop dynamic and inspired xylophone obbligatos, belongs on every college radio station playlist in the Western world. (Francis DiMenno)

EAT MY FUK
Bestial Onslaught Productions
Wet Slit And A Bottle Of Whiskey
15 songs

Hey, let’s all play “Spot The Influence.” Here are some hints: 1. The band’s name is from an album title by their chief inspiration (who, by the way, goes conspicuously uncredited); 2. Song titles include “Slit Lickin’ Scumbag,” “I Wanna Cum On You,” “Drink And Bleed,” and “Kneel Before My Cock”; 3. They mention toilets and Jim Beam a lot; 4. The artwork has lotsa porno clips and a naked woman vomiting; 5. The artist in question has been dead for ten years; 6. The band requested I get this because of my involvement with said guy pre-croak. (Although CDs are not assigned as such, I ended up with it anyway.)

If you guessed John Tesh, you lose. I’m gonna hafta disappoint these guys, but the fact is I don’t “get it” beyond their being a total parakeet act (albeit a fairly meticulous one). I guess they’ll track me down and throw feces at me now. If they needed validation that they’d properly absorbed the GG Allin “philosophy,” I can only respond that 1. GG didn’t spend this kinda money on production and packaging; 2. He could actually be very funny and ironic; 3. Some of his songs had melodies, emotive musicianship, and other subject matters; 4. He had a greater overall message than “I’m blatantly ripping someone else off,” and 5. Thus he’d probably, in fact, have hated this. Since I’ll probably have been murdered before the next issue comes out, I just wanna say, it’s been fun. (Joe Coughlin)

THE SKELS
Any Port In A Storm
12 songs

I first saw The Skels at the Linwood sharing a bill with The Kings of Nuthin’ (good friends of theirs) and was instantly hooked by these blue collar blokes playing a balls-out raucous mix of traditional Irish folk and modern rock. When this emerald gem of a CD landed in my hands, I couldn’t wait to check it out. On Any Port In A Storm, their first fully original outing, the lads from Jersey (armed with Boston bassist Henry Ryan) rip through a catalog of foot stomping, humorous and insightful songs that dare the listener to remain seated. Highlights include “Pauper’s Grave” and “Whiskey I’m A Slave.” However each stout-pounding tune will quench even the strongest thirst. Every meticulously crafted and wisely arranged track shows this rowdy band to be astute students of The Dubliners, The Clancy Brothers, Van Morrison, and The Pogues. Dynamics and energy abound. Aside from a marked resemblance to Shane MacGowan’s vocals, The Skels distance themselves from such similar artists as The Dropkick Murphys with sparser and sharper arrangements and lots of humor and sentiment. This is pub rock at its best. (Marc Friedman)

AVANT STRANGEL
Too Out There?
7 songs

A buncha boobs on The Noise message board started pickin’ on this guy one day because he also happens to be a fashion model, and they were makin’ fun of all the artsy photos on his site, so of course I got all huffy, saying he kept the music and fashion aspects of his site completely separate (which is true), and all that kinda fair-minded crap. The guy ended up responding to these posts in notably dignified fashion in the face of some wholly unnecessary abuse. A lotta bands have taken far lighter (and far more warranted) criticism out there, reacted with thermo-nuclear indignation, and had their bum-bums kissed in mass apology by the scenester collective. Oh yeah, the record. Some of the art-photos DO show up here (think bandannas, supernovas, angel wings, sunglasses, and a chiseled torso slathered with Vaseline), but they DO convey the kinda New-Age Lenny Kravitz thing Strangel seems to be going for. With a decidedly ’70s bent, it’s kinda like Jon Butcher Axis for the new millennium, but more pseudo-spiritual, less party-boy boogie. Okay, a LOT less. The total package (especially the lyrics) could be taken as a thoroughly corny, anti-hipster, guilty-pleasure throwback, or simply god-awful. Like most things I receive fitting these criteria, I have a soft spot for it, which means you probably won’t. (Joe Coughlin)

CONDITION BLUE
Day Job
Legends
8 songs

Condition Blue are quite adept at hiding the fact that they produce everything in-house. Think Black Sabbath instead of Fugazi, and you’ll get the point. In fact, I couldn’t help but think that my listening experience likely paralleled some suburban kid’s first reaction to Ozzy and Co. in the ’70s. They’re heavy, but I’d not categorize them as “metal,” per se.

They sing about girls and guns and star babies and a lot of things that I can’t decipher. Lots of harmonies upon harmonies upon harmonies, Brian May guitar stylings, and a tune (“Into The Sun”) that reminds me a lot of Deep Purple. The songs are long, but not annoying. It’s great stuff to crank while driving way too fast down some deserted stretch of highway. If it’s possible to have Dadaist rock (and no, that’s not music your dad really digs), then this is it. (Amanda Nichols)

WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE
Go To Hell
8 songs

This 3-piece has a remarkably full sound, full of crunchy guitars and butt-rumbling bass, not to mention the excellent sing/ screamo vocals. I just wonder if this band is this tight live, because if this CD is any indication, they are a force to be reckoned with. Powerhouse drumming propels the sometimes redundant riffage, and liberal blasts of feedback and screaming add much needed color. The second track “Everything Went Black” sounds like The Deftones but in a really good way. The riffs remind me a little of Meanwhile-era Helmet, and, at times, The Melvins. I like them. I’m going to have to see this band live. (Jesse Thomas)

TOKYO TRAMPS
Bound For Glory
10 songs

Here’s a novelty: no, not the porn flick described as “banned in Japan blowjob adventures”; rather, we have four earnest Berklee-trained Japanese musicians who essay to write and perform their own original picture perfect R&B; compositions and find, if not universal acclaim, a comfortable niche on the blues circuit. They mix in some boogie, some country, throw in some cowbells here and there, and now and again a southern-rock style solo. I swear, you could close your eyes and imagine it’s 1973 again. Of such stories are low-budget independent Hollywood features made. And the songs? Well, even an ethnomusicology student might admit that a steady diet of Alabama chain gang field recordings, howsoever odd and brilliant, eventually grows wearisome; occasionally he might want something less challenging. Less bluesy but more listenable. This might suit the bill. But then again, maybe not. The songs are good in the same way that Clapton is “good” – if you prefer a blandly stylized and somewhat slickly produced tour-de-force approach to a genre which largely originated with solo practitioners who specialized in low-down gutbucket expressiveness, then you’ll find much to like here. If not, then look elsewhere. (Francis DiMenno)

THE KNEE-HI’S
Love, The Knee-Hi’s
7 songs

This is the kind of disc that totally fucks with my reputation as a cranky old “if it ain’t heavy, it ain’t shit” curmudgeon, because I like the living heck out of this way-too-short (under 20 minutes) slice of happy, Go-Go’s-inflected pop cheeriness. Singer Robin Banks has one of those voices that it’s just impossible to hate – if you say you hated Belinda Carlisle’s voice back in the day, you’re either full of shit or you’re a terminal sociopath. Original? Well, maybe not. But the Knee-Hi’s throw enough different influences into the old musical blender to make them a wicked fun listen, and the musicologists among you can argue over the minutiae while regular folks like me just bob our heads happily and pray that our more metallic brethren and sistren don’t walk in unexpectedly.

The CD might have benefited from a different mix – the guitar, while played with extreme taste and coolness by Binky Rice, is too far up front, occasionally overpowering the vox. But the rhythm section of Heather Henderson on drums and Kate Williams on bass and vocals does exactly what a good pop rhythm section is supposed to do. Good, clean fun for all ages. (Tim Emswiler)

THE ANCHORMEN
Unstoppable Records
Nation of Interns
8 songs

I never liked the Circle Jerks, but even though The Anchormen singer Heath Row’s voice is a dead ringer for Keith Morris’, I kinda like their scrappy, jangly rock. Straightforward and tight with little room for soloing or tempo changes, Nation of Interns wisely zips through its eight tracks in 17 minutes. If given more time to meander, Row’s nasally voice, lyrics that read like paragraphs (and sometimes sound like them) and their relatively safe garage sound could easily become grating and predictable. But here they scoot past in just the right increments, and the backup vocal harmonies give the album a light, poppy vibe. That shiny happy feeling might stand in contrast to their tales of heartbreak, history, war and urban strife, but it’s hard to believe that despite their sometimes serious subject matter that The Anchormen wanna have anything but fun. (Mike Delano)

MICHAEL THIBODEAU
Egg Publishing
Raise High the Roof Beam
12 songs

Thibodeau can write a mean song and has conviction aplenty in his voice – almost too much, which verges on self-important. This is quickly forgiven by the very solid performances of his entire band and excellent songwriting. Highlights include “Another Long Night” and “No Stranger,” featuring a warm organ and a classic Rhodes solo – just made me feel like hangin’ at a smoky bar somewhere down South. The only real clunker on the disc is “Stoney Creek,” a solo acoustic number that simply doesn’t rise to the level of the others. If you dig Tom Waits, check this out. (Shady)

MEAGHAN McLAUGHLIN
Press Records
More Stories For Dana
10 songs

Well, this clinches it. I’m officially disqualified from reviewing anything ever again. I shoulda known a while ago. See, this is exactly the kinda record this magazine was founded upon, almost like a Hipster Handbook. But me and the hipsters never got along. It’s so “what it is,” that it almost isn’t. The cover’s a black and white photo of a drink, a pack o’ smokes, and a notebook. The title might refer to some insider legend I should know about, but I’m unaware of any Previous Stories For Dana. The music is that kinda loping, jittery, scattershot stuff that flits around between Throwing Muses and Come, but without the extreme highs or lows of those acts. The approach comes off as equal parts tortured-artist and approachable-drunk. Titles and lyrics obsess about stuff that needs fixing (“Racked,” “Bitter,” Wreckingball,” “I’m Leaking”). The artist is something of a local institution, and rightly so, having played in several acclaimed acts as well as the solo dealie, and comes complete with the requisite facial piercings and malnourished, Collector Scum fanbase. And this’ll end up in more readers’ personal Top Tens this year than maybe any other local record. But despite its moments, it sounds to me like some kinda contractual-obligation-filler record. Except there’s no contract. Or maybe I just have to live in Allston to appreciate it. That ain’t gonna happen. (Joe Coughlin)

SUPER-CANNES
Transfersational
9 songs

Members of Little A, currently on hiatus, Danny Lee (drums and grooves) and David Kirkdorffer (unguitar and space) comprise this dazzling dance duo. Trans-fersational is a collection of nine mind expanding live techno (if that isn’t an oxymoron) instrumentals (think Four Tet, but without the Acid loops). Furthermore, the CD is a testament to Lee and Kirkdorffer’s artistry in that only these two musicians generate such a full and lush yet spacious sound. Johnny Marr’s production on The The’s Mind Bomb comes to mind. “One Dead Soldier” has both an undeniable groove and a killer gut-grabbing riff while “Channel System” sports inventive Fripp/ Belew (Discipline era) inspired guitar lines. “Velocity” and “Carnival of Souls” both lull and pulse with an atmospheric trip hop feel. “Velocity” showcases Lee’s drumming with its jazzier, almost bebop, feel while “Carnival of Souls” hits more like a Jean Michele Jarre or Tangerine Dream soundscape. The CD’s sound quality will not satisfy audiophiles, but considering that this set was originally a cassette concert recording later to be enhanced (and edited) by David Westner at Woolly Mammoth Studios, it will more than satisfy the average and above average listener alike. (Marc Friedman)

MISTER VERTIGO
Wintermusik
12 songs

Sometimes I get records from this magazine that are so good, they’re all I think about for months. It’s a great, redemptive feeling. Other times, I get these awkward-ass, Mickey Mouse screw-jobs that are so discouraging, I can barely leave the house or look people in the eye. But occasionally, I get something so middling, so static, so thoroughly ineffectual, that I sit and stare at the linoleum, waiting to feel anything. And it’s hard, because they arrive with these enthusiastic, handwritten notes from some kid who’s just sunk a whole buncha dough into the thing, is understandably thrilled to death with the accomplishment, invariably gushing stuff like, “We sure would appreciate a review!” And I sense that these are perfectly good (if not wonderful) people, and I’m tempted to pass it along to someone less finicky, but then I have to lecture myself on ethics and honesty, so I play it again, thinking I must have missed something, and I didn’t, because it’s more of that light-hearted, quavering, alt-sappy Gin Blossoms fluff, and I try to ignore the opening track of incoherent whispering and the unreasonably pointless cover art, and then I’m annoyed for not trusting my instincts, and I’m forced to conclude that this brand of inescapable, “please the masses,” post-whatever stuff is actually part of an enormous, sinister plot between Satan and the government to keep us all stupid. (Joe Coughlin)

SATAN’S TEARDOPS
Spindrift Records
Set em Up and Knock em Down
14 songs

The Amazing Royal Crowns by route of Black Flag. Satan’s Teardrops have a chokehold on that rockabilly-cum-punk sound that was all the rage back in ’98. Not that I don’t like this CD, because it’s well-recorded, the songs are strong, the vocals are exciting in a Elvis impersonator type of way; it’s just the fact that this music has been done to death, it was old after the Stray Cats. And while Elvis never said motherfucker in any of his songs, he never really had to, and what I hear here is a band desperately trying to carve their initials into an established (if not beaten to death) medium. (Jesse Thomas)

BIEN
Dualsix Records
Eleven
11 songs

This must be some new kinda music. Imagine a young, inner-city gent of specific ethnicity talking in monotone over loops of music and synthetic beats, whose lyrics all rhyme to a steady meter. Sometimes, his friends pop in for a line here or chorus there, if you can call it a chorus. The subject matter leans heavily (okay, endlessly) toward the finest details of the guy’s personal life and habits. What he wears, where he went, who he talked to, why he’s all this, that, and the other thing, with references to criminal activity, romance and world harmony, and how it all relates to his, um, singular urban experience. Say, this kid’s really onto something. I’m surprised there aren’t about five billion copycat records like this out there already. Seriously, folks, I’m the wrong guy (in the wrong magazine) for this one. I’ve got three rap records in my whole collection, and they’re all from 1987. As these things go, though, I can say with assurance that two tracks (“Piranha” and “Chlorine”) especially stand out. I’d actually turn up the radio if they came on, which is more than I can say for almost everything of the genre that I hear. So if you like the stuff, this must be a pretty good one if I can stand it. I guess I own four rap records now. (Joe Coughlin)

THE CLASSIC BURGLARS
Creature Feature
11 songs

This disc is aptly named. I listened to this before I went to bed one rainy night and I had some serious nightmares. Written and recorded in just two hours, this bizarre, almost free-form exploration of musical ideas both good and bad are laid out for all to hear. There is no attempt to cover up any mistakes or any production values added for little virginal ears. What you get are the nonsensical ranting and wailing of some warped minds. It’s not exemplary or horrendous, it simply is. Keep small children and animals far away from The Classic Burglars – in fact keep everyone away from them. (Shady)

HOOTMAGNUM
Trucker Rock
12 songs

Hootmagnum’s bio states that their influences are the “grunge scenes of the early ’90s” and the painfully off-key Cobain/ Vedder wannabe vocals couldn’t make it clearer. “Addict,” with its alternative sounding guitar (think Blur’s “Song 2”), distorted vocals and succinct Creedence-like guitar solo, kicks off the CD. The above-mentioned issues along with plodding drums, utilitarian bass and banal lyrics quickly dash the promise of the song, as well as the rest of the disc. Some standout tracks, however, include “Dead Animal (in the wall)” (which has the exact same riff as NTBA!’s “ConAgg”), the Helmet inspired “A.W. Confusion Maker” and the “Consolation Prize” with its tight groove and listen-able lyrics. Conversely “Stik It” boasts an over the top Cobain-esque imitation, a tacky chorus and an embarrassing guitar solo. The clumsy transition from bare intro to full band assault in “Resolved” would have benefited from distorted guitars while the mismatched tempo from intro to song in “Sponge” is a blaring and painful oversight by the band. On the whole, Trucker Rock is a promising debut with hints of originality and room for growth, but isn’t a CD that should be used to showcase the band. (Marc Friedman)

BARN
Your Summer Dress Bored Me
7 songs

So this is what it sounds like when a “hysterical thrash band” member and a “guitarist turned drummer” team up and record the remnants of music made of jamming and boogie woogie-ing on a smoky summer night on the porch – somewhere along the lines of folk pop rock stuffed with bland, airy vocals and romantic references. Think Dave Matthews Band. Nonsensical lyrics about girls/ summer/ romance, sing-a-long-esque melodies, and plenty of strumming is reminiscent of Pete Yorn and Ryan Adams, but lacking the cohesive whole of both. Simply put, this album lacks something. The “something” doesn’t have to be original or new, it just has to add spark to songs that are a bit clichéd. On the surface, Barn’s concept and talent is rather refreshing but the music is just so bland that it doesn’t even make it to “bad.” Whereas some calm music soothes, Barn’s album is so calm it bores. (Xiaowei Wang)

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DROPKICK MURPHYS
Born & Bred Records
Going Out in Style:
Fenway Park Bonus Edition
31 tracks

At this point in time,
it’s somewhat difficult to write a Dropkick Murphys review, as it
can be tough to separate Dropkick Murphys the band from Dropkick Murphys
the product. It’s even harder if you’ve been with them from the
Do or Die era and watched the music and the crowd change over time.
It’s pretty easy to be jaded, but it would also ignore the fact that
the records they’ve made since ascending to the throne of Boston ambassadors/mascots
have generally been pretty good. In fact, their last record, The
Meanest of Times, stood up quite nicely to anything they did in
the pre-“Tessie” era. Going Out in Style isn’t as strong
as that record, but it’s still a pretty decent effort. The 1-2 punch
of “Hang’em High” and the title track provides quite a kick, the
latter of which contains enough Boston landmark/celebrity namedropping
to show that the band is in on the joke. While things generally suffer
a bit when they slow down the tempo, the more laid back “Broken Hymns”
is surprisingly pretty. In addition, it’s amazing that drummer Matt
Kelly doesn’t get mentioned more often as being one of punk rock’s
best. There is no way these songs carry their sense of martial swing
without him. The record has its share of filler, and we definitely don’t
need their take on “The Irish Rover” since the Pogues already did
it and did it better.

The bonus edition also
contains a live recording from the band’s two-night stint at Fenway
Park. Some fans will be disappointed at the strong emphasis on Going
Out in Style, but that makes sense given that this is the band’s
third full-length live release and a lot of the older numbers have appeared
on the previous two. From a technical standpoint, this is about as good
as I’ve ever heard a live recording sound. Everything comes through
crystal clear, and the vocals and instruments are mixed at appropriate
levels. In general, the songs contain more energy than their recorded
counterparts, but the melodies get flattened out a bit. While the performance
is more than competent, the song selection highlights the band’s increasingly
obvious attempts at pandering to the crowd. The inclusion of “Tessie”
was probably unavoidable, but it’s still hard not to associate that
song with the last exodus of the studded leather jacket/liberty spikes
crowd. “I’m Shipping Up to Boston” and “Kiss Me I’m Shitfaced”
(even with its knowing wink) are grating at this point as well. The
high point of the set is Kay Hanley reprising her role on the bawdy
rocker “The Dirty Glass.” It’s probably the band’s most enjoyable
song, and really, is there anything that Kay Hanley doesn’t make better?
(Kevin Finn)

 

ANDREA GILLIS BAND
Hey Gillis
10 tracks

Andrea Gillis is another of that rare
breed of singer who can sing the back of a milk carton and make your
soul ache. This new release features a roster of Boston rock royalty:
Melissa Gibbs, Charles Hansen, Michelle Paulhus, and Bruce Corporal,
with guest appearances by Steve Mayone, John Powhida, Mark Pinansky,
and Sarah Grant. This new album absolutely sizzles and spits out
a vengeance that grabs you by the collar and makes you pay attention.
Loads of influences here: classic Motown, mariachi, soul, R&B, and
a load of badass rock ’n’ roll. Highlights include a rousing
studio version of a personal longtime live fave, “Taxi”; “More
Often Than Not,” written by Scott Janovitz, featuring some great vocal
harmonies; and a rousing rendition of the gospel classic “Keep Your
Hand on the Plow.” If you haven’t checked out Andrea Gillis’ music
yet, you’ve probably been living under a rock for the last decade
or so. If you haven’t been living under a rock, you should check out
this powerhouse singer/songwriter. I can’t think of anyone who could
possibly not be moved or impressed with the music on this CD.
(Joel Simches)

 

THE ’MERICANS
So Late It Hurts
10 tracks

This reviewer recently read that
So Late it Hurts was named one of the best albums of 2011, and the
band, Best Act of 2009. It is not difficult to see why, especially
when one recognizes Providence’s Chris Daltry’s involvement as singer-songwriter.
Daltry began crafting what can only be described as “slow core”
music in the early ’90s when he led Purple Ivy Shadows. The passage
of time has resulted in the perfecting of his signature sound, something
dark, but not oppressively so, brimming with majestic soundscapes and
smooth psychedelic elements. When blended together, the result
is the band’s third effort of beauty, something that aches with an
intimate, relatable sorrow and conveyed through Daltry’s warm vocals.
The opener, “When a Peaceful Bird Can’t Hear Her Own Song” is,
exactly as the title suggests, melancholic but deeply introspective,
while “Language of America,” “Our Strength in Numbers,” and
“No One Up There Is Listening” call to mind Wilco, Galaxie 500,
and Buffalo Tom. Perhaps the record’s closer, ”Sky Full,”
truly paints a picture of the ’Mericans’ latest: “Lift me up.
I want outta here. Lift me up. I wanna taste the sky.” In a word:
exquisite. (Julia R. DeStefano)

 

PLANETOID
The Abraxis Tactics: Phase 4: The
Tatterdemalion
4 tracks

After a year since Planetoid started
releasing the Abraxis Tactics, the fourth and last part has arrived.
The first thing I notice is the cover art, until this point I didn’t
realize that all four phases fit together like a puzzle. The front covers
make up a manila file folder, while the inside lyric sheets look like
small notes from an X-file operative keeping tabs on these alien visitors.

Musically, this band just keeps getting
better. The title track “The Tatterdemalion” is quickly becoming
my favorite all-time Planetoid track. It shows how versatile this band
is: it is a good old blues tune, with a twist. Planetoid are outcasts,
doomed to travel throughout the universe overtaking galaxies, never
getting a minute of rest. Planetoid doesn’t fit into a specific genre;
this disc is a great example of that. They mix stoner desert groove,
metal, blues, psychedelic, and good old-fashioned rock ’n’ roll
into one big ball, creating something I don’t seem to get tired of
listening to. If you haven’t checked them out yet, they get my highest
recommendation. (Melvin O)

 

ABSINTHE ROSE
Screech Owl Records
Absinthe Rose EP
5 tracks

While Absinthe Rose would describe
themselves as folk-punk, they could just as easily be associated with
the gothic Americana of O’Death and the Builders and the Butchers.
It’s fantastic to be able to add a female-led band to the canon of
this sub-genre that’s been bubbling in the indie underground for a
decade now. Kimberly Rose delivers her vocals in a style all her own,
but certainly influenced by PJ Harvey and Sharon Van Etten. Mixing acoustic
and electric tracks, cow-poke folk and punky moan, this EP delivers
an all-too-short snapshot of an indie band on the rise. (George
Dow)

 

THE WHISKEY BOYS
My Girl’s Across the Ocean
3 tracks

Ah, youth. The Whiskey Boys are
a couple Berklee lads hailing from Connecticut who now make Boston their
base of operation. Building on Beantown’s penchant and support
of all things folk and acoustic, the Boys’ bluegrass fiddle/acoustic
guitar/banjo twang and vocal harmonies waft through the air like a steady
stream of corn mash smoke from a frothing still in the woods. This
is a noble little EP, and at the end of three nicely built songs, you
want … just a bit more. “Pass me that bottle once more, grandpa!”
(Mike Loce)

 

GARAGE SALE PICASSO
& MARIA MONK
75 or Less Records
Garage Sale Picasso
& Maria Monk
8 tracks

The members of Garage
Sale Picasso are clearly children of the 120 Minutes generation
as their songs split the difference between the old R.E.M-style jangle
pop of the ’80s and the more lush style of ’90s bands like, well,
Lush. There isn’t much of an edge to the mostly mid-tempo songs, but
the band has a melodic intelligence that seeps out with repeated listens.
The most noticeable strength is the guitar work of Keith Menard and
Jason Macierowski. I have the feeling these guys could absolutely shred
if they wanted to, but they have the taste to never show off at the
expense of the song.

Maria Monk also would
have fit in on 120 Minutes, but they would fall in line more
with the heavier guitar-driven pop of that era. Think Sebadoh or later
Husker Du. These guys make indie rock for those who believe it should
be loud, messy, and yearning. It’s a nice change from all those wimpy
dudes with acoustic guitars who hole themselves up in a long cabin and
make what basically sounds like Starbucks soundtrack music. At times,
the band is a little too melodramatic, but for the most part, Maria
Monk is a welcome kick in the pants. (Kevin Finn)

 

DOUG RATNER & THE WATCHMEN
Lessons Well Learned
5 tracks

Doug Ratner is far from your typical
singer songwriter. His music has teeth and those teeth bite hard.
His band the Watchmen are the perfect complement to Ratner’s energetic
rock. His sound is an Americana Elvis Costello, circa 1979, albeit
with slightly longer and more fleshed-out arrangements. “In
the Backseat” is straight-up English punk pop, with a political
subtext. I could do without such an obvious Pink Floyd cover such
as “Money,” but it seems to spit out more bile than the polished
1973 version and seems to have more of the sarcastic bite of Waters’
original demo. Midway through this EP, Ratner does get a little introspective,
in a Martin Sexton sort of way. And the last two songs sound like vintage
Rockpile, with Ratner borrowing equally from both Edmunds and Lowe.
Everything I’ve heard from this band continues to impress. Keep
it coming! (Joel Simches)

 

SHAUN ENGLAND
Lay Me Down b/w Down the Line
2 tracks

All of Shaun England’s press mentions
Leonard Cohen. It’s odd that there’s no mention of Lou Reed, with
whom Shaun shares distinct vocal similarities.

These two tracks highlight an introspective
songwriting style accompanied by acoustic guitar and harmonica. One
would expect to hear the tunes drifting from a front porch somewhere
in the Deep South. The dusty road and heat of the summer live within
the guitar strums and harmonica’s vibrato.

This single is an all-too-short taste
of an artist that surely has hundreds more songs like these tucked in
battered notebooks, just itching to tell their stories.
(George Dow)

 

SEED
Taking Root
9 tracks

This is a great example of “don’t
judge a book by its cover.” The first track of this disc sounds
like another awful Kenny G. album. I sat through all five minutes of
painstakingly slow elevator jazz. The second song was only slightly
better, it had a flamenco feel that just felt flat. I was just about
ready to dismiss this altogether, writing it off as having tried but
failed. Then the third track comes on, changing my opinion completely.
I’m not sure why they led the album with the two slowest songs, but
the rest of the disc is awesome. They leave behind the slow jazz, finding
funky jazz grooves that border on old-school ska. These grooves are
solid, the horns sound great, the guitar is full-bodied. If you skip
the first two tracks, this disc will have you shaking your ass around
the house in no time. (Melvin O)

 

THE DOCTORS FOX
Handful of Laughs
11 tracks

Listening to this album is a lot like
turning the dial on a radio from the low-end stations and slowly working
my way up to the top. Wait, scratch that. Listening to this is a lot
like listening to a bunch of radios tuned to different stations all
playing at the same time. No wait, maybe it’s a bit of both. I don’t
know. Decent metaphors are tough when it comes to a band like this:
one that not only combines such a chaotic array of diverse musical styles,
but one that does it so goddamn well. They’re all over the place. One
moment, the music has a reggae feel, but with gypsy-style fiddle thrown
in the mix. Then, before I can get my bearings, I’m hearing a samba
tune decked out with disco flair. Next thing I know, they’re knee-deep
in doo-wop, country-western, and more. You name it, this band plays
it. Seamlessly, too. The fiddle’s fluid leads, the singer’s husky vocals,
and the band’s jaunting pop-rock warmth provide just enough familiarity
to keep the album grounded amidst all the genre changeovers. (Will Barry)

 

SPECIAL GUESTS                               
Canned Peaches Records
10 tracks

On the back of this CD lists 21 names as band members and a wide variety of instruments including the usual acoustic and electric guitars, bass, and drums. Others are harmonica, percussion, synthesizer, B-3, banjo, horns, and a penny whistle. A penny whistle! Al Pechulis writes or co-writes almost all of the music and the songs range from acoustic blues to folk ballads to acoustic Island-flavored pop—and all of it very personable, very mellow, and very good. I like Zoe Alpert’s sweet vocals on “Remember” and “Lovin’ Arms” and Al’s strong delivery on ballads “Hold Me Close Tonight,” written by T. Perriera alone, and “Long Time Miles.” “Apathy” gets into a nice groove and “Yes I Know” and “Neato Keen” are perfect songs for the beach. A good listen. Check it out.   (A.J. Wachtel)

 

KIRSTEN OPSTAD
Fear of Swimming
11 tracks

On her debut full-length album, Kirsten
Opstad sings songs about casual sex, broken relationships and the tribulations
of early adulthood in an upbeat folk-pop style and a Laurie Berkner-like
vocal. Yes, Laurie Berkner—most of the songs on this record sound
as though they would make great bumper music any Saturday morning on
PBS Kids.

Scratch the surface though and Fear
of Swimming is a collection of dark yet positive reflections on
the trials of life. The incongruity of Kirsten’s vocals and her songs’
subject matter is the secret sauce that makes this record so thoroughly
enjoyable.

Her lyrics are heartfelt and honest
and her songwriting skills are fantastic—skills she’s surely honed
with her other career as an improve/sketch actor at the North End’s
Improv Asylum. Its 11 tracks mix solo acoustic and full-band electric
nicely, resulting in a fully formed and well executed debut.
(George Dow)

 

18 WHEELS OF JUSTICE
Execution
11 tracks

18 Wheels of Justice deliver a brutal
and intelligent strain of thrash. Relentless in its execution and bolstered
by thought-provoking lyrics, the songs confront everything that is wrong
with America and humanity in general, urging the listener to question
all that is dictated to our society by those who are deemed our superiors.
Vocalist Adam Sloan incites revolution with a virtual arsenal of voices—he
is tenacious to the end, only taking a breather for one track two-thirds
into the album. While the album is three tracks too long in my opinion,
it’s not due to slacking or petering out, which may be the problem.
While the aforementioned instrumental breaks the mood for a bit, the
relief is akin to walking the corridors between classes. Stylistically,
the album could use more of a lunchtime recess to bring contrast and
add weight to the messages of the surrounding songs, but this quibble
is minor. I think fans of thrash ought to be eating this up—there’s
nothing hackneyed or uninspired here. Just pure drive and conviction.
(Tony Mellor)

 

PULL TROUBLE FROM THE FIRE
6 tracks

The old adage, “a picture is worth
a thousand words,” has never been truer. In this reviewer’s mind,
it would not be fitting to review Pull Trouble From the Fire’s debut
without first acknowledging album artwork that is all at once trippy,
intriguing, and unsettling. The black-and-white sketch of a man
with a shopping cart by his side and his hand plunged deep into an eyeball
only serves to solidify the band’s self-described “swampy, psychedelic
indie-rock” style. With their ambient sound and experimental
nature, Pull Trouble From the Fire is undoubtedly original. However,
the songs appear to be more of an exercise in the creative process itself
rather than fully realized, cohesive products. The integration
of a wide variety of elements, though interesting, are not always complementary
to each other. At the same time, this debut is difficult to critique.
Something tells this reviewer that Pull Trouble From the Fire pride
themselves on being original and mind-blowing in their approach.
(Julia R. DeStefano)

 

BY THE THROAT
Riders of Boards
4 tracks

By the Throat (BTT) traffic in a style
of skate-punk hardcore that never goes out of style. It sounds as fun
today as it did in 1984. Singer Niff’s vocals lie somewhere between
NoFX’s Fat Mike and MDC’s Dave Dicta—good pedigree by any measure.
Guitars crunch in the style of early Token Entry. Too bad Riders
of Boards falls flat lyrically. Skateboard lyrics are inherently
limiting but I suspect they can do better than “If I get air I gotta
method.” Tighten up those lyrics and BTT have a winning formula they
can ride for years to come. (George Dow)

 

PLUMERAI
Marco Polo
4 tracks

This band is beauty personified. Their
music is ethereal and swirly, much like Cocteau Twins and Bel Canto.
Eliza Brown’s voice captivates and entrances. The guitars are swirly
and chimey while the rhythm section chugs along quite contently. As
much as this should sound like a 4AD wet dream, I find the mix and the
overall production to be so “demo-like” and unfinished. There is
truly a wasted potential here, given the dreamy quality the songs possess
and the music so desperately needs. It seems like serving a fine aged
cognac to a roomful of dignitaries in a Dixie cup. This band has been
around for a few years and has seen many lineup changes. I do feel this
combination of musicians is indeed the strongest they’ve had and I
hope they continue to make music as impressive as this in their current
configuration. (Joel Simches)

 

THE FURIOUSITY
All the Rage
7 tracks

Upon receiving this
CD, I was immediately curious as to whether this band’s goofy name
is a winking nod to generic punk band names or an unknowing caricature.
After having listened to the album, I’m still not entirely sure, but
I definitely think there is potential here. The songs have the trashy
hard-rock feel of a fiercer version of the Donnas or the Runaways. They
are melodic and reasonably catchy, and the band proves to be quite nimble. The
major downside is that they only seem to know one speed, which isn’t
much of a problem over the course of an EP, but could be a hindrance
going forward. Also, singer Ashley’s voice is an acquired taste. The
full-throttle urgency of her vocals indicates that she’s studied at
the heels of Corin Tucker, Kathleen Hanna, and the rest of the original
riot grrls (an awesome place to study, by the way, if my assumption
is in fact true), but she hasn’t yet mastered those singers’ abilities
to use their voices to maximum effect. Her singing can feel a bit like
a bludgeoning. Criticism aside, I’d still be interested in seeing
where the Furiousity goes from here. (Kevin Finn)

 

POLLUTED REMAINS
Reconstruction
5 tracks

I generally dislike girl-fronted metal
and/or punk bands, because they tend to lose their individuality. Polluted
Remains offers a decent dose of punk with a hard metal edge, but Kellee’s
vocals are so strong she is never overpowered by the music. The majority
of the disc is fast-paced and in your face. “Movin’ On” is a classic
metal ballad showing that the band can slow it down, and still kick
some ass. (Melvin O)

 

CROTCHTHROTTLE
75 or Less Records
Everything Odder Than Everything
Else
14 tracks

Cold and industrial, this batch of
ambient music has a post-apocalyptic vibe with all of its futuristic
loops and ominous mechanical sounds. It doesn’t grab your attention
right off the bat, but instead slinks below the radar, like some guerrilla
warrior in fatigues, blending into the background, ready to pounce at
a moment’s notice—just like ambient music should. It slices at your
psyche with a surgical precision so stealthy and subtle you don’t even
realize it’s happening. The tunes are, for the most part, extended electro-instrumentals.
There is, however, a track with a cool piece of spoken-word sci-fi beat
poetry. There’s also a woozy “Fitter Happier”-type track thrown
in the mix as well. The arrangements are driven by distortion-drenched
basslines growling out eerie mantras while assembly-line rhythms clank
and whir. Real freaky stuff. I’m actually a little surprised at just
how much I am enjoying this. (Will Barry)

 

HYDROELECTRIC
Catseyesoup Records
Space Dirt
9 tracks

If you’re either old enough to remember
Heavy Metal as a cartoon, or young enough to appreciate really great
sounding rock music, this band should take a spin under your laser.
I tend to say “well-crafted” a lot to describe music I enjoy, but
goddammit, it’s what works, and I use it again on this stuff.
You’ve got a new band, circa 2008, but each quartet member is coming
from many veteran rock influences and has learned how to find their
place in the overall mix of HydroElectric. J Mascis even plays guest
lead guitar on a track! Not only that, they’re writing some
kick ass songs, arranging them with poise and understanding of the rock
idiom they’re fitting into. To compare to other bands would
be pointless; futile at best. Just find this band around, listen
to what they’re doing, see them live if you can, and crank it LOUD
when you drive… or when IT drives YOU. (Mike Loce)

 

KIMON KIRK
Dos Kay Music
Songs for Society
9 tracks

The easygoing, brightly melodic music
on this full-length debut by ex-Session Americana bassist Kirk has a
long pedigree in the American songbook, stretching back as far as Bob
Wills and extending all the way up to Creedence Clearwater Revival, culminating
in the soft-rock stylings of Paul Simon and James Taylor. What seems
to be a drawback here is the mooring of the first two songs, “Awkward
Conversation” and “Cowboy Coffee,” to a strictly utilitarian
rock idiom. Maybe the drums are simply mixed too high, but the percussion
strikes me as mostly workmanlike, and obliviously lacking in nuance,
and the songs suffer by being subsumed beneath the weight of this rhythmic
impetus–the melodies seem almost dulled. All the same, those first
two songs are pleasing, and the third song, “Put Me Out of Your
Misery,” has a gratifyingly epic heft. “Not Where I’m At,”
a ballad co-written with Aimee Mann, has a liltingly elegiac quality;
ditto the introspective “Damndest Thing.” “Can of Corn,”
a craftsmanlike offering, is reminiscent of some of the bravura
of a band like Dan Hicks and His Hot Licks. On “The Road
to No Regret,” Kirk sounds like he is singing above his range,
and the wistful melody is thereby somewhat marred. The pick hit is the
jazzy, almost criminally catchy closing track, “Meet Me At
No Special Place,” which almost makes me feel as though I’m slurping
a fruity umbrella drink in some fern bar somewhere, and maybe that’s
not where you’re at—but then again, not everything has to be beer
and Skittles. (Francis DiMenno)

 

OPPOSITION RISING
Opposition Records
Aftermathmatics
10 tracks

Opposition Rising’s (O.P.) debut,
Aftermathmatics pummels listeners with agro-hardcore in the style of
Agnostic Front and Biohazard. Their politically charged lyrics rail
against everything from the rich, to the government, to big banks—or
in the case of “F.T.W.” (ed. – Fuck the World) they rail against,
well… everything. O.P. vary their sledgehammer delivery occasionally
with aggressive ska interludes which sound like a deadly serious version
of the Voodoo Glow Skulls. The ska interludes are an important component
of their sound—without them I would expect to be left exhausted and
twitching from the sheer speed and brutality of O.P.’s hardcore crunch.

While O.P. does sell their music and
merch through a variety of DIY outlets, they also commit to make their
music available to all for free. You can stream or download Aftermathmatics
at O.P.’s Bandcamp page. (George Dow)

 

THE SEDGWICKS
Parking Lot Extortion
4 tracks

It may be unfair and even a tad snarky
to characterize the opening track of this debut offering as Sophomore
Rock, but ever since at least Steely Dan and maybe even going back to
“It’s a Happenin’ Thing” by the Peanut Butter Conspiracy, rock
has been, um, enlivened by the presence of ironic, prematurely world-weary
peddlers of poker-faced whimsy. Admittedly, “Beautifully Insane”
is a bit more in the conventional mode of twee proto-glam rock ala Marc
Bolan, crossed with a soupcon of late ’80s-style stumbo rock with superadded
screamy guitar solo. “Cliff” sounds a bit like something David Bowie
might have left in the can circa “The Man Who Sold the World,” though
there is evident wit and craft here, particularly in the blocky and
chunky middle eight, replete with an echo-laden harmony vocal chorus.
Catchy as hell, too. The pick hit is “Lucky You,” which sounds a
bit like a revved-up Syd Barrett solo outing—the same fractured, half-sure
lunges into chopped-up and loosely strung together vocal melodies—but
in this case also jazzed up with backing instrumentals somewhat reminiscent
of the Byrds—a fusion also successfully exploited by the Paisley Underground
stalwarts in the Three O’Clock. Overall, this is more intriguing than
otherwise, and I’d be interested in hearing more. (Francis DiMenno)

 

MICHAEL MALONEY
First Step
11 tracks

I feel like a total jerk sometimes
when I find myself forced to critically beat down certain CDs that are
mailed to me. This album, for example. When I made track-by-track notes,
the following phrases came up: “Hallmark rock,” “soundtrack
to my teeth getting cleaned,” “crowd-pleaser at the nursing
home,” “poetry to woo a 6th grader,” “was this guy
a music director at a parish who decided to make hackneyed secular music
instead?” etc. Then I read the news clipping that accompanied the
CD… turns out this guy actually plays gigs at churches and nursing
homes, as well as teaches music to high schoolers! Oof. This guy is
providing a musical service to his community, and here I am criticizing
him for some of the most banal lyrics ever, predictable featherweight
song structures, and his oh-so-polite voice. I’m a bully. I’m the bad
guy, saying that this guy’s album makes any Jack Johnson album sound
like the Beatles’ Revolver in comparison. Why don’t I just rob
some old ladies after Bingo while I’m at it? (Tony Mellor)

 

STARNES AND SHAH
Red Brick Tide
12 tracks

Poet, rock ’n’ roller, and storyteller
Dania Abu Shaheen and songstress Zilpha Starnes are at it again, once
more putting forth an effort that is both introspective and influential.
It is through a seemingly effortless manner that the girls’ vocals
come together beautifully, each bringing her own life experiences and
strengths to the table. The interplay of exquisite, often choral
harmonies results in a magical listening experience. Musical fusion
is the most fitting way to describe it. Through such songs as
the opener “Cardinal Marks,” “Estimate and Then,” and
“All That Love,” the girls have never been more reminiscent of Ryan
Adams and the Cardinals and Hazeldine. Long-term fans will be delighted
in the re-working of Pink White Blue Green’s “Saturn Starter
Home.” As before, the girls’ lyrics are brilliantly witty, dripping
with sensuality: “I know fire and I know hell and yeah, I’ve been
there before… I’ll let you fix my flat tire. I’ll let you
stoke my little fire. I got a box of matches, and I don’t care what
catches.” The arrangement, complete with powerful riffs and strategically
placed electronic elements is, when compared with the original, indicative
of Starnes and Shah’s evolvement. Even “Half Hitch,” another
track from their earlier record, is given a complete facelift with much
added emphasis on Starnes’ vocal, “Oooh baby,” which just makes
the song. Red Brick Tide is an exceptional effort, a fitting
example of something unpredictable yet with the cohesion, driving melodies,
and thoughtful lyrics that serve to hook listeners. Starnes and Shah
have, indeed, “been livin’ right.” (Julia R. DeStefano)

 

GREEDY CHERRY
Greedy Cherry EP
5 tracks

Five songs, five different genres.
Still, I’m not impressed. Their music, no matter what style this band
seems to choose, is entirely unoriginal and unforgivably middle-of-the-road.
In short: It’s crap. Shite, mierda, merde, scheiße.
There, that’s crap in five different languages. Impressed? I didn’t
think so. Listening to this is like watching some mediocre comedian
do mediocre impressions. In one fell swoop, this EP manages to desecrate
Herbie Hancock, lobotomize Antonio Carlos Jobim, piss on the grave of
Bob Marley, neuter the Beatles, and cheapen the centuries-old English
ballad tradition. (Alright, I’ll admit that is kinda impressive,
but that’s beside the point.) Greedy Cherry, please, in the name of
all that is holy and musical, stop the madness. I can’t take anymore.
(Will Barry)

 

AND A BONUS BOOK REVIEW

GHOSTS IN THE MACHINE
A Review of Hidden Wheel
A
novel by Michael T. Fournier

(Trade paperback; Three Rooms Press, 2011.)

By
Francis DiMenno

This is an intriguing fiction by the
author of the 33 1/3 series monograph on the Minutemen’s Double Nickels
on the Dime. It is a short novel which is, in essence, a mock
biography of two artists. Of course, nearly all fiction is a form of
mock biography. But, ultimately, a novel is also a machine for explicating
a philosophy. Hidden Wheel might be of particular interest to
fans of Philip K. Dick, and/or Don DeLillo (not that the two are mutually
exclusive). Devotees of Dick’s dark, dystopic works such as The Man
in the High Castle and A Scanner Darkly would be likely to relish
the author’s narrative strategy, a series of brief, skillfully arranged,
quasi-documentary chapters in which the story of an eclectic arts scene
is reassembled from the point of view of a chronicler writing centuries
hence. Admirers of DeLillo novels such as Great Jones Street would
likely find an affinity in the subject matter of Hidden Wheel,
with its wide range of arts world characters, each one concisely sketched.

Protagonists include the dipsomaniacal
Max, a half-reformed graffiti artist turned gallery pro, and Rhonda,
a semi-reclusive chess prodigy with a sideline as a dominatrix-for-hire
who spends her life assembling fewer than a dozen enormous, autobiographical
canvases. The side cast includes a tax-dodging old-money gallery
owner and “micro visionary” named Ben Wilfork; a scene-making
editor of an arts magazine who calls herself Lara Fox-Turner; Bernie,
a drummer reduced to taking some very odd jobs in order to buy a new
kit; and Amy, a fading bass player still trading on her one-time affiliation
with a widely revered (and wildly reviled) novelty act called Dead Trend.

The broad theme of the novel seems
to be the evanescence of artistic endeavor in a digital age–and the
central narrative revolves around the respective fates of Max,
the prolific and obsessively self-promoting minimalist, vs. Rhonda,
the prodigy-genius whose lifespan-encompassing works take place on a
far greater canvas. Max, the artist who floods the market with
lazy, derivative work, considers himself a trendsetter to the very
end. Rhonda, the capital-A Artist, is an ideological purist who is imperious
and cold. The methodology of the novel partially mirrors its theme:
the story is told with an ingenious collage of narrative techniques
which in part replicate the subject matter.

Yet for all of its narrative inventiveness,
this is also a novel which is grounded in the real world. Particularly
interesting is its exposure of all manners of scams: self-promotion
in the digital age; the marginally scrupulous business practices of
arts promoters; the inside machinations of the media and its star-making
machinery; and the venal strategies employed by corporate majordomos
to promote dubiously “hip” brand extensions. But this is also
a philosophic novel which gives the reader insights into the nature
of the creative impulse; as such, it ought to be required reading for
that class of artisans who also consider themselves cognoscenti,
members of a select tribe known to marketers as “influentials.” This
novel would also be of interest to those who want to know more
about how such people operate and what really makes them tick.
Hidden Wheel is not so much a hipster manifesto as a dissection
of hip–we might even be talking about a new genre here, “meta-hip.”
Three Rooms Press is an eclectic publishing house which has made
a shrewd investment in what may well become an influential and
pioneering literary work.

If you’re sending a CD in to
the Noise make sure to use our new address.
And everyone else should
update our contact info too. Thanks.

T Max/ the Noise
PO Box 353
Gloucester, MA 01931
617-331-9637

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The Push Stars
by Lexi

On May 22 of this year, The Push Stars
celebrated the Capitol release of their new CD with a hometown show at the Paradise Rock
Club. The show was sold-out, My Favorite Relative opened, and WBCN’s Shred introduced
The Push Stars to the stage. Brandishing a copy of the new CD, After The Party,
rumored to be the most anticipated major label debut this year, Shred yelled into the
mike, “THIS is what we’ve been waiting for!” The Push Stars took ownership
of the audience as they kicked off with “Me,” from 1996’s Meet Me At The
Fair (Imago). The audience knew every word, and singer/ guitar player Chris Trapper
ended up leading hundreds of people in a grand, exuberant sing-along. Some of the biggest
cheers of the night came for the spirited rocker “One Summer Day,” during which
Ryan MacMillan performed a rare drum solo, and the more subdued “Any Little
Town,” the new single, in which bassist Dan McLoughlin switched to keyboards.

Depending on who you talk to, this
Brighton-based trio are either the biggest pop sensation to skyrocket out of Boston since
Letters to Cleo, or they’re just another well-intentioned but unsuspecting indie
outfit sucked into the perilous and fickle world of the mainstream music industry.

On a rare night off, Ryan, Dan, and
Chris sit at a warmly lit corner table at Christopher’s Restaurant in Porter Square,
savoring apple cinnamon tea and discussing the merits of keeping things in perspective.

“Look at Steven Tyler from
Aerosmith,” offers Ryan. “He’s grounded. He seems to enjoy each day as if
he’s lucky to be here. He still calls WBCN, and is always really cordial and nice to
everybody. Guys like that, guys who are STILL out there doing it—compare guys like
that to people who say ‘this is all bullshit.’ Where are THEY now? They’re
gone, because they don’t have the ability to keep going, because they don’t
appreciate where they’ve gotten.”

Chris nods agreement and adds,
“When we were in LA, we got a kind of ‘rock star’ training. Basically, the
three of us laughed it off. We are who we are. We’ve never felt like the point of The
Push Stars is vanity. We’ve always felt that we can bring some good to people when we
play. If we can make them dance, or think, or laugh, or cry, we’ve succeeded.”

“Yes, of course, the music business
has a lot of bullshit,” acknowledges Dan. “But EVERY business does. Even the
venetian blind business has a lot of bullshit. And the truth is that the music business is
very enjoyable, and making music is very satisfying. Gratifying. The minute you start
bitching about things, you have to remember that every business is F’ed up in some
way. You’ve got to avoid the negative and concentrate on the positive: the fact that
we’re real lucky to have these jobs in the first place.”

To longtime fans, The Push Stars’
success has nothing to do with luck, nor does it come as a surprise. It’s hard to
deny that The Push Stars have got all the goods the majors are looking for: a humble and
handsome lead singer who combines the pouty sensuality of James Dean with the passionate
vocal tones of Eddie Vedder, catchy pop melodies, compelling and timeless lyrics, and most
of all, a genuine love of performing.

The Push Stars formed in 1994 when
Chris, who’d been captivating small coffeehouse crowds with his solo acoustic
balladry, was playing one night at the same club as Ryan’s band. The two liked each
other’s music. When Ryan left his band, the pair formed a duo that soon hooked up
with bass player Dan, whom Chris had known in college. “I was a recording engineer at
the time, and I wanted to work with Chris,” Dan recalls. “I wasn’t planning
to play bass. Ryan and Chris were just going to come down so we could do some songs
together. We did “Me,” “Shy,” and “Well, Anyway.” I just
hopped on bass and we hit it off creatively. Those recordings, we kept around until Meet
Me At The Fair came out.”

Chris sums up the tilt-a-whirl years
between 1994 and 1997 simply: “We played our asses off.”

“After awhile we’re doing
’ERS, ’UMB, all those college stations, and ’AAF and anyone who would have
us,” recalls Dan. “Eventually, people started recognizing us.” The
recognition spiked in 1997, when a radio programmer from Woodstock, NY, entered The Push
Stars into an EMI Music Publishing contest, where they walked away with the prize for
“Best Unsigned Band in America.” Last year the Boston Music Awards chose them as
“Outstanding Rock Band,” and Chris won for “Outstanding Songwriter.”

Ground zero for The Push Stars’
success is The Common Ground, a small Irish club in Allston. They played The Common Ground
nearly every two weeks, slowly gaining the momentum that would eventually propel these
amiable rockers into the center of a bidding war between Geffen, Columbia, and Capitol.
“We’d just talk to a lot of people after the show,” explains Dan simply.
“We had fun with it. People would bring friends, and they kept coming back over and
over again until finally there was a line out the door.”

Soon The Push Stars realized that in
order to move up in Boston, they’d have to start booking bigger venues, and try to
draw in all the people who were coming to The Common Ground. The band did not play out for
several months, and then booked a sold-out show at the Paradise with Ruby Horse. It’s
not that they make it sound easy, but I do have to ask about some of the trials along the
way. Wasn’t there ever a bad night? “We have a top ten!” laughs Dan. The
band describes a show where they played for four people in Portland, Maine on Ryan’s
twenty-first birthday. They opened for a band that was three kids, and their grandfather
playing drums.

“And the sound man, while we were
playing, was, let’s just say, participating in, uh—” Dan breaks off,
shaking his head and grinning across the table at Chris.

“Getting oral sex in the sound
booth,” finishes Chris.

“And how about Deaf Night at
Gerlando’s?” remembers Dan. Gerlando’s was an establishment that featured
bands once or twice a month, and it happened to be located near a school for the deaf.
“It was basically like playing at the Ground Round,” explains Ryan. “And
there was no applause because they couldn’t hear us.”

“It was a packed house,” says
Chris. “We were like, this is cool! We’re going to get some fans from this show!
So, we played, and the first song ended— and noooobody clapped. We looked at each
other like, ‘this is weird’ because the crowd looked very expressive while they
were talking. Then we put two and two together.”

Ryan reminds Chris and Dan about another
awful night, in Kansas City. The other band on the bill was loudly taunting the Push Stars
from off-stage during their set. Finally, Dan scribbled off a note to the taunters that
ended the tirade.

“Hey, that was on my birthday,
too.” Ryan suddenly remembers.

“Oh God,” says Dan, “You
know what, we better not play on your birthday anymore.”

“Half our gigs were like that for
the first year or two,” admits Chris. “Real tough. But that’s what it
takes.”

Awards and prizes, hit movie soundtrack
credits, songs on MTV’s Singled Out and The Real World, the daytime
soap All My Children, the nighttime drama ER, and a photo layout in Rolling
Stone magazine are some of the things that have since eased the pain of Deaf Night at
Gerlando’s and, according to Chris, “it was a chain reaction” that all
started with the fans. The Push Stars have an adoring audience, and it’s not just
because they make quality rock music. The fact is that The Push Stars are genuinely…
nice.

“And we’re not being nice in a
FAKE way. We don’t pretend to be best friends to everybody,” Chris explains.
“But when we find someone who appreciates us, we don’t take it for
granted.”

“It comes around,” claims Dan
simply. “Wherever we play, we’re very open to talk to people and meet people. A
guy we met once in New York actually turned out to be one of the guys that got us in
another film. And we didn’t know until later it was that person.” Dan thinks for
a minute and then adds, “Basically, your music will be out there. If people like it,
that’s great. But you can piss them off and then, even if they like it, they
won’t help you. So it just helps to be really cool with people, and it’s only
fair. People who act solely on ‘what can you do for me’—that’s the
wrong attitude.”

Testament to the right attitude can be
found in gestures such as, during the interview for this story, the band ask if they can
make mention of two local bands they like (Sabot and Smokstik), and during their CD
release show, they plug a beloved Brighton donut shop (on the corner of Market Street).

The Push Stars get to make more friends
this summer as they take After The Party on tour. They’re sharing stages with
Better Than Ezra and Julian Lennon who, in all likelihood, won’t taunt them from
offstage.

For more information, visit the official website at www.pushstars.com

Mr. Airplane Man
Putting Shame in Your Game
by Mike Baldino

Photo by Roland Ouellette      

Guitarist/ vocalist Margaret Garrett and drummer/ vocalist Tara McManus are two very sweet, personable young women who get “it,” that “it” that Howlin’ Wolf knew and that Jeffrey Lee Pierce understood. They make ramshackle, hypnotic, punk-inspired blues-based music that sounds like the Fat Possum label’s take on the Nuggets box set, like the music Iggy Pop would’ve made if he’d stuck with the drums and backed Hound Dog Taylor instead of fronting The Stooges. Their live shows are amazing and their records are fabulous. Their lyrics are simple and honest: “Feel like a question/ Lookin’ for an answer/ Never gonna find it Never gonna get there;” “I need somebody/ drive me out/ out of this town/ I’m restless and I just wanna drive around.” In the past few months, Mr. Airplane Man released their second full-length, Moanin’, on the Sympathy for the Record Industry label (home to The White Stripes and other garage rock luminaries), and they’ve just returned from a European tour, during which they recorded a session for John Peel’s radio show. They’ve got a steadily growing buzz in the international music press, and their devoted fan base swells in numbers at every show. Tara and I hung out and closed the Abbey Lounge one night:

Tara: Margaret’s from Newton (Tara grew up in Westboro and Natick), but we met when we were little kids at summer camp up in New Hampshire. We lived in different towns, but I always used to take the bus, like this Route 9 bus that’d always take me two hours to get there, and we’d spend the weekend together and stuff. I didn’t have many friends, and Margaret and I had such a bond… I used to stand there on Route 9 waiting for the bus for hours. I just lived to go away.

Noise: “I lived to go away” pretty much sums up the Worcester area.

Tara: Yeah, it got a little better when I was in high school; there was like five punks in my whole town, and I met them. They were all older, and they turned me onto hardcore and everything. We used to drive into Boston on the weekends to see all-ages shows and stuff, and that saved my life. My first show was at the Paradise seeing Jerry’s Kids and Gang Green or something, and it’s like “Oh my god, thank you!” I had a hard time in Westboro. I don’t know why. Just didn’t fit in or something. After high school I got really disillusioned with punk and didn’t really listen to anything for a couple of years. [Punk and “alternative” music] got really watered down and mainstream, and it just seemed that people were into things beside the music part; it got really regimented – I always think of punk rock being freaked out and really creative, you know what I mean, but I remember saying to people, “I really like the Minutemen and I really like The Meat Puppets,” and they’d say, “Oh, well you’re not punk, you’re a freak,” or whatever. Like, “What? I thought…” I moved to Newton at the end of high school, and there were like five of six kids who were into punk, and we were really all way into the records. When I moved closer to Boston, it seemed like people were more into the outfits and really taking note of whether your shoe laces were tied this way or that, and it was like, “Oh, God…” [laughs]. It was a real turnoff and really disappointing.

Noise: What was the record that clicked for you and made you realize you wanted to play music?

Tara: Every Tuesday night we’d [she and Margaret] go see The Hypnosonics, which was kind of a side project of Mark Sandman’s; they’d experiment with what became Morphine songs. They had a three-piece horn section, Mark played guitar, they had a bass player, and this drummer who was like, unbelievable. It was really inspiring, and that’s when I started feeling really itchy, like, “Okay, I really wanna learn music.” Whatever world they were in, I wanted to be in it and play the way they were playing.

Noise: So Mr. Airplane Man started out playing in the street-was it hard for you to get gigs?

Tara: We didn’t really have a plan; we just felt like total weirdos. We never thought we’d have a real band. I was just completely obsessed with Howlin’ Wolf and Junior Kimbrough and R.L. Burnside. That was all I wanted to do. And I didn’t want to have to work all the time. We figured out that we could play on the street and kind of learn, and people would throw money in the thing and we could barely scrape by. We didn’t have to work, and we just played all day for like a summer. We got just barely enough to pay the rent but not to buy anything else, and it was awesome. We played, though, like four times a week in clubs and on the street, and we really burned out after a while on playing the same songs over and over and over and over. After a while, it was like “Oh God, not ‘Rollin’ and Tumblin’ again.” It was better to just get a job and only play once in a while. I’d rather just get on good shows with The Dirtbombs or Detroit Cobras, and they’ll only let you do it if you haven’t played in- you know how it is.

Noise: Why did you guys decide to be a two-piece?

Tara: We just couldn’t find anybody. Margaret and I have such an intense thing between us, it’s really hard for someone else- we’re like twin sisters or something. But it seemed like everybody was really into the whole Stooges thing, or they were really into blues in a corny way. In the last few years, I’ve felt like we’ve met people we could play with, but now it’s just like we do what we do. You talk to so many people and they’re like, “Howlin’ Wolf, he’s so great, he’s so great,” but there are so many different Howlin’ Wolf records, that maybe the stuff we’re into about Howlin’ Wolf is different than what they’re into about him.

Noise: Like they could be into [Howlin’ Wolf guitarists] Willie Johnson or Hubert Sumlin, who are totally different.

Tara: Yeah, or that stuff he did with The Yardbirds or whoever backing him up.

Noise: The London Sessions.

Tara: I hate that album. It’s really hard to find somebody who wants to play something drone-y and repetitive without all the guitar stuff; you know how that whole blues scene is.

Noise: Your drumming style reminds me of Spam (a drummer who has appeared on many of the Fat Possum label releases). Every time I see you play, I’m like, “That’s a Spam fill!”

Tara: Totally! He’s a huge influence. And that kid Brian who plays behind T-Model, too, I think he’s great. People freak out like, “Why do you have this young white kid playing behind you? That’s not authentic!” Well, he’s from Mississippi and he plays really cool shit-why is that a problem? People are so weird. They think about things too much. The whole history of the blues – like, Howlin’ Wolf, one of his biggest influences was Jimmie Rogers, who was this white country-western star. Things went back and forth a lot more. I hate when people get hung up on whether someone’s white or black, because there are so many cheesy black musicians that make you wanna barf just as much as white guys. People think, “Oh, only black people have soul.” That’s not what blues is-I don’t know. It’s a weird thing to get caught up in. [We have a long talk about how lame the modern blues scene is.] I hate the whole “blues” thing so much. I love blues music, but the blues scene is such a drag and so horrible.

Noise: Do you feel like you fit into any scenes? You’ve got this garage rock kind of thing happening…

Tara: No, I think we forced ourselves into that. When we first started, we got this huge buzz going about how we had this feel for the blues that was really different and special or something; then we started doing all these shows at The House of Blues with, like, Koko Taylor, who is great and everything, but it’s this real contemporary feel-good showbiz thing. I hate that shit. I don’t want to be playing shows like that. We went through this period where we were getting approached by labels, but it was this really icky thing. No way are we doing the Newport Folk Festival-fuck that shit. We opened for Susan Tedeschi, and that was it. That was it! I was like, “That’s it-I’m not doing this anymore.” And then we stopped for a year and took a break and we wouldn’t take any shows. We kept getting calls from House of Blues.

Noise: You had that stigma attached.

Tara: It took a while to shake it. Everyone was writing about us like, “Oh, soul sisters, they play the blues…” and we were like [makes vomiting noise] and cringing. We’re not trying to be some “blues sisters” we were just rockin’ out. Maybe we were really corny and like that at first? I don’t know. We were just super-into the blues and we were copying it ’cause we were trying to learn how to play. I didn’t want to get stuck there. I hate that fucking blues scene-I hate it! People are like, “Oh, they’re into the blues,” and I’m like, no, it’s just rock ‘n’ roll, it’s not a big deal. I mean, Iggy Pop told this story in Please Kill Me about how he’d never done drugs and he ran away to Chicago and he was studying all those blues players, and he was playing drums with them. Then one night, someone gave him a joint and he went down to the river and he finally realized that he loved the blues, but it’d never be him completely, it’s not in his blood and it’s not his culture, and he had to be natural and find his own way. That’s why the blues is so great: it’s about people being natural and being who they are.

Noise: I don’t think of you guys as a blues band or traditionalists or anything like that.

Tara: That’s good. Thank God! It’s really just about rock ‘n’ roll and being creative. Since I was a kid, going to see live music is what really got me through. Going to see rock ‘n’ roll bands is like going to church, and it keeps me going. It makes me forget everything, and I love it. I just want to be in one of those bands that makes people feel the same way and makes them get lost in the moment.

http://www.airplaneman.com

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JENNIFER GREER

The Lily Pad, Cambridge, MA   

7/11/15

This is my first time seeing a show at Inman Square’s famous art space, The Lily Pad.  There isn’t an empty seat in the house so I have to stand in the back. The room is about half the size of Club Passim’s listening room, however what it lacks in size, it makes up for in acoustics.  The grand piano set up on stage sounds fantastic. It’s as rich and melodious as they come.  It also doesn’t hurt that the talented Jennifer Greer is behind it. She can play and she can sing with the best of them.  Her band isn’t too shabby either.  Mike Barry on guitar, Julio Matos on bass, and Chris Michaels on drums.  The group enhances the dynamics of each song majestically; sending the songs to the next level or at other times backing off and creating a level of intimacy allowing Jennifer’s voice to really shine. As tonight is her CD release party, the quartet mainly plays tunes from Jennifer’s new album Hey Tide however there are a few tunes Jennifer slips in that she indicates will be on the next album. I’m excited. We all should be. Nice work Jennifer!     (Kier Byrnes)

…

WILLIE ALEXANDER

Gloucester Unitarian Universalist Church, Gloucester MA

7/19/15

Today’s review of Willie’s performance will be a little different from what you’d normally expect. Although he’ll be playing some music, he’ll also be up at the altar preaching to the congregation.

At 10:00am on the dot I take my seat, third row center pew, and Willie starts hammerin’ away at the grand piano with father and son sax players, Rikki and Alec Razdon, playing backing roles on “Celebration of the Spirit” written by Preacher Jack.  Jeremy Melvin, high on the altar, soon has the floor with a greeting and announcements that are open for anyone to join in.  Behind Jeremy, even higher on the altar is music director Harrison Kelton adding the big pipe organ sounds. As Willie moves to take the center high stage, Kelton provides the big pipe backing to a Quaker hymn, “My Life Flows in Endlessness,” with everyone singing from #108 in the books provided in the pews. Willie chose beforehand which hymns would be part of the service.  A candle is lit over Willie’s prayer, and the poem “Love Is Not Concerned” is read in unison by the congregation. Willie heads back to the piano and performs my personal favorite, “The Gold,” from his collection of Vincent Ferrini’s poems put to music. The big organ follows, spreading its massive sound, when Jeremy’s young daughter casually walks up to the ground floor level of the altar and snuggles up in her dad’s lap. Willie’s back at stage top center and shakes out an ancient scroll (in true show biz style) to read his Gloucester-based “Fred Buck’s Footsteps” story. He performs it in a bebop beat poet style; the Razdons’ saxes add peeps and squarks transcending me to a small cafe in Greenwich Village a half century ago. Fred Buck was one who walked all over Gloucester and had a good understanding of the area. Oddly enough, Willie is also a walker and the closest thing this fish town has to a modern day Fred Buck. We all join in singing on “For the Beauty of The Earth,” a hymn Willie dug when he was a wee boy back in the Baptist Church where his dad was a preacher.  “Only in a UU church can you play the devil’s music on Saturday night and be asked to preach on Sunday morning,” Willie states to lead into his entertaining sermon that touches on staring at the stain glass windows, Southern friend chicken, Chuck Berry’s “Roll Over Beethoven,” African tunes sung by Mom, Mom’s violin playing and yodeling, record stores, the luring bells of the church, Zulu hymns, and following the Golden Rule… do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Emotions build as we all sing the UU hymn “Spirit of Life.” His sermon and the hymn perfectly sets up what follows—the emotional peak of this experience—a small simple Willie-written prayer that sends blessings to specific people, big and small. It fills my eyes uncharactically with tears. The show leads to it’s goodbye with Deb Hardy jointing Willie at the piano for a rousing version of “Stand By Me” with the Razdon saxes letting loose — the whole of which morphs into standing stomping and clapping.    (T Max)

…

MATT NATHANSON

Opening for Train and The Fray

Xfinity Center, Mansfield, MA

6/20/15

I’m sure ya’ll have been to the Xfinity Center and know what a cool concert venue it is. If you haven’t been here before, it’s set up with a ton of food, beverage and bathroom options, as well as lots of pre-show tailgating fun in the parking lot. The sound is awesome – and I’m in the very back on the lawn! The view is decent – I’m pretty sure I could hit the stage with a baseball – not sure about a football though. There is a wide demographic of people from little kids on up, and the vibe is very positive and fun.

Matt is a Lexington Mass native who lives in San Francisco now. At some point you’ve probably heard his songs on the radio and know who he is. Nothing too fancy with Matt and his band – just guitars, bass, drums, and some sequencing. He’s a talented pop singer/songwriter and also very witty. He’s not here to finish us off, so to speak; “I’m here to fluff you,” he says. During the first song his excellent band goes into U2’s “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” for a bit and get’s the whole crowd to sing along. Audience participation is a big part of his show – from clapping certain parts to sing-alongs. He also talks directly to audience members. At one point, he runs into the audience and says, “I’m going high.” Then he hangs out with the peeps in the upper middle section for most of the song.

His set is about 40 minutes and he plays the songs you’ve likely heard on the radio: “Headphones,” “Modern Love,” “Kinks Shirt,” Come On Get Higher,” as well as a cover of James’  “Laid.”

Matt really is a “local boy done good” story and I realize this more as he talks about all the shows he’s seen here as a kid, and how cool it is for him to be playing in Mansfield right now.  He makes it clear how proud he is to be originally from Massachusetts.

To top it all off, he’s invited up to perform with Train and Issac Slade (The Fray) on stage at one point to sing “With A Little Help From My Friends.” Not a bad place for a guy from Lexington to be. Fun Show, excellent fluffing stuff!    (Jeff Reynolds)

…

FUNBUCKET

The Harborloop, Gloucester, MA   

7/23/15

I don’t review cover bands often, if at all, but Funbucket has some wickedly talented performers who turn their skills to this form of income and have a hell of a time doing it. Sure they can duplicate the guitars (Mike “Mr Bogus” McMahon/ Kook Lawry on bass), the beats (Greg Dann), and the lead singing (Chris O’Connor), but these guys also add the vocal harmonies when called for. And after they get though classics by Grand Funk Railroad, Badfinger, The Beatles, John Cougar Mellencamp, Radiohead, The Who, Aerosmith, and Van Morrison, they delve into Hendrix. With “Manic Depression” and “Foxy Lady” Mr. Bogus figuratively drops some acid and taps into the Hendrix spirit. He plays those well-known lines so fluidly with the right tone and expression that you’d swear you were in the presence of the greatest electric guitarist of all time. And Bogus does it without a trace of self-consciousness.  I’m not sure how he comes back to earth to play anything by Elvis Costello or Talking Heads. Maybe he manages to occupy his extra brain cells by challenging himself to get his fallen floppy hat back up onto his head using only his foot — while continuing to play. Catch Funbucket and let me know if you’ve ever seen anyone play Hendrix like Mr. Bogus.  (T Max)

…

DEBRIS BOUQUET/ SYPHILLIS DILLER/ FISTED SISTER/ CHOCOLATE SUNDAY/ MEANER PENCIL/ JONATHAN WOOD VINCENT/ THE DOOBIE SISTERS

Outdoor Guerrilla Concert Series

Boston Common, Boston, MA 7/24/15

A friend tells me to sign up by emailing an Outdoor Guerrilla Concerts gmail account. I do, and by Thursday I receive secret info in my inbox for the next show to be held somewhere in Boston Common on Friday night. It’s a little bit like finding an Easter egg, but they blast some strange pre-show live music to tip us off as we and others wander. Some people text them for the exact spot but we are a bit lazy.

There are maybe 35 people seated on the ground with smiles all around. We can see some battery amps that look like vacuum cleaners and some musical instruments, along with a few very strangely-attired people we assume are performing. It’s a beautiful, casual environment.

The organizers of the event proudly boast of their anti-professionalism, and they aren’t kidding, but it’s all part of the fun. The MC (I think his foreign accent is fake) keeps asking the audience if anyone has seen a violinist or tall blond accordion player – performers they are waiting on. There’s no sign of them, but the first act starts, nonetheless.

The Doobie Sisters are three long-haired guys badly done up in drag. Their dresses are hideous – one is spandex – let’s leave it at that.  They do what seems to be a 10-minute “song” about how Jesus is more than alright. They pass a joint to an imaginary Jesus, who they claim is their invisible roadie! They are shambling and funny with catchy music.  But it’s over quickly. They aren’t lying when they say sets are short in these outdoor guerrilla concerts!

Immediately, the next act is introduced: a keyboard virtuoso named Jonathan Wood Vincent who is evidently the tardy blond accordionist, who is now ready to go. His outfit is impossible to describe (newspaper and red trash bags make up a lot of it) as are the unearthly sounds he coaxes from his accordion. It’s a lot of avant-garde-noise, but he keeps it entertaining all the way through, dancing around us and being silly. His linguistic clowning is also very enjoyable. He plays for only about eight minutes. The whole event is like a VERY unique variety show, rather than your average ordinary concert.

Next up is a blond nerdy gal on cello and vocals who goes by the stage name Meaner Pencil. She sings four songs and her clever words and beautiful melodies have us tearing up, which we never expected in this goof-ball extravaganza. Lovely stuff. I bought one of her CDs.

Next comes Chocolate Sunday, who claim to be “the world’s WORST Black Sabbath cover band” (think about their clever name for a second). They are two guys in cloaks doing instrumental deconstructions of Sabbath hits, but on twin ukuleles. They are actually quite good and very skilled on their instruments. Their set resembles an abstract medley of Black Sabbath songs. I love it because you often have to guess what song they are de-composing. Immense fun.

The perfectly named Fisted Sister claim to be (fake) Sammy Hagar douche rock – but fake imbecile metal might be more apropos, and I mean that as the highest compliment. We can’t believe what we are seeing: Two guys in ridiculous outfits (I’m told that’s a rule of these shows), one is also wearing a long grass skirt… as a wig, duct-taped to his head. It did look like Dee Snider on a bad [good?] day! I still can’t believe their act: the non-wig oddball has a microphone through an amp and crouches with his back turned towards us, as if he was hiding. He does all the over-the-top arena-rock stage banter  (“How are ya all doing tonight?” “I can’t hear you! I still can’t hear you! I have to get my hearing checked on Monday, thank God for Obamacare!”)… while the lead singer (with the grass-skirt-wig) instantaneously mimes to it all. Hilarious. Their main shtick is long-winded intros describing what the next song is about, with a famous song title inserted, as if they’re in front of 80,000 people in a stadium!  “This next song… is about a girl I dated… who would never ever shave her special garden… this song… is called… ‘Welcome… To… The… JUNGLLLLLLLLLLE!!’”  Then, the hiding guy goes into some vocal power chords while the singer sings a made-up melody for an ersatz chorus. 20 seconds later and that “song” is done!  “This next song… is about a radio talk show host… who is addicted to synthetic heroin… but luckily has several suitcases of Oxycontin in his trunk… this song… is called… ‘Just… What… I … Neeeeded!!’” … followed by some clearly-improvised 30-second a cappella tune. They must be seen to be believed. I could’ve watched these idiots for hours, but alas, their set only lasts about six minutes!

 Even the self-proclaimed “never-fun” anti-music of Syphllis Diller is unavoidable fun: four members (two guys, two gals), dressed for a stage in Las Vegas sit down and look surly for five minutes. THAT is their entire M.O. They claim that they refuse to make any sound because music is dead! Weird but fun and unique!

The apparent headliner of this concert is French noise-puppet duo Debris Bouquet, who are mesmerizing and seem like rock stars from the future. A barely-dressed man in kneepads and other junk on his person wanders through the crowd with his creepy home-made puppets while his partner plays crooked atonal loops and other strange, grotesque sounds on electronic ukulele. They have guests join them, including a talented art-punk gal on violin. Some of the prior performers also make mysterious sounds around the crowd. They play less than ten minutes but the crowd demands three encores. Most inexplicable is the guy standing randomly on the side of the stage covered in a sheet, who just stands there the whole time and never does anything else! When I inquire after the show, he claims his sheet had no eye-holes to symbolize how the KKK lack foresight.

My friends and I wish this short show (45 minutes) would never end. Not just for the creative and funny musical acts, but for everything about it. They pass a hat at the end and also ask for weed and booze as tips, so my friends smoke a bunch of them up. It’s how every concert should be.

Pray they indeed do these every Friday night at midnight. They told us they may try to do them all in the same location, as long as no police bother them. Whatever you do, do not miss these wacky shows.  Boston needs more wild events like this.    (Shauna Erlbaum)

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26 Years of Boston Rock

1981-1985
TIME WARP IN THE
ANNE FRANK MUSEUM
by Joe Coughlin

   Jesus, has it really been 25 years? Actually, longer. The drinking age was 18 when I started clubbing, four years before T Max hatched this thing. The number of bands back then who had the stuff to endure (and sadly, didn’t) is staggering. But the number of people still at it is equally so. This is a VERY short list of players who made these pages back then, and who continue today. Apologies to the many I’ve missed, this is off the top of my head, from a partial list of issues and who was in them. (I urge all those still out there to post their current events on the Noise Board.) The peripheral characters alone here could fill ten more articles, but I held it to names definitely published. Some of you will even have favorite bands now whose members were playing before you were born. So, by year and issue number in which these pieces ran, here’s a short glimpse at how some of this has come together over time.

    1981 (#1) The club Streets opened in Allston, and Human Sexual Response (whose song titles this article, more on them later) were an early draw. Later clips from these shows can be seen in the archives at www.kinodv.net. (#2) The Phantoms’ Angelo “Piggy” Aversinow drums for Girl On Top. Matt Burns of V; now drums for Classic Ruins (who started in the ’70s and never left), Awakening Stick, and sometimes The Coffin Lids. In between, he’s played with Inside Outburst, The Peecocks, Spike, Alice Highland, a one-shot live incarnation of GG Allin and the AIDS Brigade, and many others. (#4) Lizzie Borden(& The Axes) opened for The Ramones, and she now fronts The Liz Borden Band.

    1982 (#5) Young Snakes spawned Aimee Mann’s career. (#6) Gang Green appeared on the famous This Is Boston, Not L.A. EP, and have been back playing awhile now. (#7) Propeller Records founded a cassette-only label whose roster largely fueled a tiny club called The Underground near B.U. (which hosted early appearances of Pylon, The Cure, and Glen Matlock’s post-Sex Pistols band The Spectres, to name a few). An early compilation featured Dangerous Birds (with Thalia Zedek, later of Uzi), Art Yard (including, for a time, T Max on guitar and vocals, and ex-Maps bassist Dan Salzmann, who would later join Christmas), and The Neats (featuring Eric Martin, still out fronting his Illyrians), who would be the last band to play there, literally bringing down the house (the ceiling tiles, anyway) during a cover of Roky Erickson’s “You’re Gonna Miss Me.” Arcade Ambo (a more upbeat variance of New York’s The Dance) played a show at the now-defunct Inn Square Men’s Bar which I’ll never forget. Vivacious singer Denise DiZio later performed with Snack World, Crown Electric Company, Boston Rock Opera, and was recently spotted singing backup in Allan Sheinfeld’s notorious “Alvis” revue as one of “The Nutra-Sweet Sensations.” (#9) Carmelita (then host of WERS’ local show Metrowave) now hosts Bay State Rock on WAAF, Sunday nights. (#10) Carter Alan became a honcho at ’BCN, befriended U2 and wrote a well-received book about them. Primary Colors’ (and then-former Atlantics’) drummer Ray Fernandez runs Boston Butta Beats studio and plays out with The Illegals.

    1983 (#16): Aimee Mann’s next band ’Til Tuesday won the Rumble and quickly broke wide. She continues to record, and recently performed with The Boston Pops. (#18) Much-loved Del Fuegos would get national attention from their beer commercial. Frontguy Dan Zanes now makes music for the children’s market. (#18) Three Hands’ bassist Chas McCann plays in jazz duo Tenor Madness, and can often be seen in street performance. (#19) Psychowould hook up and record with GG Allin, and have played out recently. (#20) Men & Volts (originally a Captain Beefheart cover band) would release several wildly acclaimed records. Members would start (or join) the Duplex Planet mini-industry, Fort Apache Studios, Agbekor Drum Troupe, Ramcat, Joey DuPont Reaction, The Burning Sensations, Condo Pygmies, The Roys, and countless others. Guitarist Phil Kaplan now helms both Bangalore and Funeral Barkers (the latter with Billy Loosigian of Willie Alexander’s original Boom Boom Band), while drummer John Proudman plays out with Cul De Sac (featuring Robin Amos, ex-Girls synth-ist from back around the same time). Men & Volts and The Incredible Casuals would cover each other on record. The Casuals are 20-plus years into their summer Sunday residency at the Wellfleet Beachcomber, and some members also still play with The Chandler Travis Philharmonic. (#22) Christmas would go on to open for Husker Du at the Orpheum. Some members would form Combustible Edison, move to Vegas, do soundtracks and work with space-age loungemeister Esquivel. Myspace.com shows the band as currently based in New York.

    1984 (#23) Jerry’s Kids scored opening slots for major hardcore acts at The Channel’s legendary matinee series. When they dissolved, Bob Cenciformed the sci-fi-billy Hellcats From Outer Space, played solo and other stuff. In 2006, Jerry’s Kids are back.  Prime Movers would essentially become The Slaves, both of whom are also playing again. Some members also appeared in costumed surf act The Strangemen along the way, and were somehow picked to open for Jimmy Buffet. (#36) Volcano Suns were started by drummer Peter Prescott after Mission Of Burma disbanded, but Dredd Foole & the Din (basically Burma fronted by the manic Dan Ireton) were recording. Burma members went into other disparate projects, until they miraculously reunited in 2002, and are still at is as we speak, while Foole was back out this year with a solo fingerpicking act. (#28) Kenne Highland would go on to release more records with more bands than anyone (including himself) has apparently been able to keep track of. Latest word has him singing with a gospel choir. (#29) The Turbines (sprung from Noise Pencil and The 2×4’s), would release the beloved single “Wah Hey!” and more, and open for X at The Orpheum. Singer John Hovorka moved to New York, but still plays out (including here) under his last name only. Salem 66 was fronted by ex-Maps singer Judy Grunwald (song subject of locals The Dark), who’d eventually marry David Minehan, now of Woolly Mammoth studios, and then-leader of 1979 Rumble winners The Neighborhoods who, you guessed it, are playing again. DJ Shred founded Frontal Assualt fanzine, Espo Records, hosted “Boston Emissions” on ’BCN, was heavily involved with the Rumble, and has booked various clubs for years. (#30) The Blackjacks featured Johnny Angel, ex-Thrills/ City Thrills (which included bassist Merle Allin, who would join Cheater Slicks before they left town, then find worldwide infamy with brother GG). Angel also founded parody act The Swinging Erudites (with former Rat/ Hoodoo BBQ chef James Ryan), as well as Punk Saliva, a cover band with Springa of SSD singing. Mostly writing and doing radio in L.A. these days, Angel still found time to whip up a recent Blackjacks reunion at The Abbey. The Outlets would release some classic vinyl. The lineup and sound would fluctuate, but they were still out there as of fairly recently. (#31) The Dogmatics, notorious from their Thayer Street loft scene days, would tragically lose a founding member in a motorcycle accident, but are also back doing shows now. (#33) Then-’BCN jock Mark Parenteau currently resides at a New York correctional facility.

    1985 (#34): Uziwas formed by Thalia Zedek (who was yet to join Live Skull, and later the band Come with Chris Brokaw, ex-Codeine, and yet another local who would record with GG Allin). The flyer for their farewell show at the old Johnny D’s (now the Common Ground in Allston, unrelated to the Somerville club) implored, “Come Die With Us.” Last checked, Zedek was still at it. O Positivefrontguy Dave Herlihy would form Toyboat. He’s now an entertainment lawyer and professor, teaching a record industry class at Northeastern. Mr. Curt, who played with Third Rail, and won the 1980 Rumble with Pastiche, now fronts The Mr. Curt Ensemble, and just released a new 10-song CD. (#35) Willie Alexander still plays occasionally, and released an all-new record with his original Boom Boom Band about a year ago. (#37) Barrence Whitfieldstill plays locally and has a huge European following. Not only did Lyres never quit, but there have been recent reunions of forerunners DMZ, featuring J. J. Rassler, who still plays with The Downbeat 5. (#41) Johnny & the Jumper Cables have played out in the last few years, and ringleader Johnny Black is in the process of resurrecting his trio. (#42) A revised Throwing Muses played a show in August ’06 without Tanya Donnelly, who had a nice run with Belly in the interim. Kristin Hersh, meanwhile, has released six solo albums and now plays with 50 Foot Wave. (#43) The Flies went on to share members with The Titanics, Satanics and, later, Upper Crust (still playing). (#44) Band 19 featured Richie Parsons of Unnatural Axe, who still do shows. (#46) The Five’s arresting vocalist Reid Paley moved to Brooklyn, but still plays solo and with his trio. And coming full circle for these years, members of Human Sexual Response had become The Zulus, whose bassist Rich Cortesehas lately played with Wendi Faren and Shaun Wolf Wortis, while guitarist Rich Gilbert was playing out with Frank Black before the recent Pixies reunion. I’m out of room, but obviously this doesn’t even begin to cover it.

{mospagebreak title=1986-1990}

1986-1990

Bands Who Could Be Good

by Francis DiMenno

   After absorbing punk, new wave, post-punk, two-tone, nouveaux-psychedelia and hardcore/ thrash, by late 1984 the Boston scene seemed temporarily adrift. Although, commercially, heavy metal, synth-based pop, Athens/ Hoboken-style jangle, and U2-style guitar rock predominated, garage punk bands such as Lyres, The Neats, and The Outlets also endured. Cantones and The Underground were long gone, supplanted by Jack’s, Chet’s, Johnny D’s, Green Street Station, and others. As ever, The Rat featured non-mainstream local acts.

    However, by the late 1980s, the scene had undergone a renaissance and two Cambridge clubs in Central Square predominated: T.T. the Bearsand The Middle East. From 1988 to 1990, local booking agent Billy Ruane helped expose breaking acts to a wider audience—who else, for instance, would have given the homeless Mr. Butch his own weekly showcase?

    Let’s backtrack a bit. What factors were behind the revival of the Boston scene? I suspect that by 1985, Boston bands had begun influencing rather than following trends. Furthermore, in 1986 and 1987, vinyl releases became instrumental in driving a local renaissance, abetted by regional record labels Ace of Hearts, Taang!, Homestead, Throbbing Lobster, Arf Arf, and, later, Stanton Park—as well as by airplay on college radio stations such as WMBR and WERS. Furthermore, the rise of alternative rock enabled three significant local bands to gain national exposure.

    The first of these was Throwing Muses, whose 1985 cassette-only and 1986 full-length LP releases were astonishingly novel. There existed no prior frame of reference for their work, except possibly the Shaggs by way of the Go-Gos, albeit fired by an extraordinary lyrical and musical intelligence. They followed up with 1987’s Chains Changed EP, 1988’s Sire Records debut, The Fat Skier, and 1989’s Hunkpapa.

    The second was Dinosaur with their first self-titled release in 1986, and, especially, their SST label LP You’re Living All Over Me, from late 1987. You could liken these Deep Wound offshoots from Western Massachusetts to Neil Young backed by a Crazy Horse who could really play; yet their world-weary cynicism was thoroughly contemporary. They followed up with 1988’s Bug, then Lou Barlow left the band to form Sebadoh.

    To complete the triad, there was the 1987 eight-song debut by The Pixies, Come on Pilgrim. Black Francisliked Lou Reed (he told us so), but The Pixies’ fiery, atavistic approach to rock ’n’ roll (quote: “Cro-Magnons with X-Ray guitars”) was anything but affectless.  They consolidated their reputation with 1988’s Surfer Rosa, 1989’s Doolittle, and 1990’s Bossanova.

    Three very different local bands also excelled: avant-garde mainstay Christmas released their long-awaited LP In Excelsior Dayglo in 1986 and followed it with 1989’s Prophets…; jangle-pop avatar Salem 66 released their ecstatic 1987 LP Frequency and Urgency, and the 1988 follow-up National Treasures…; punk revivalists The Lemonheads appeared with their 1987 debut LP Hate Your Friends, followed by Creator and Lick.

     Former Mission of Burma and Volcano Suns members also made their mark: 1986 gave us The Volcano Suns’ sophomore disc, the rampaging All-Night Lotus Party, as well as brilliant LPs by Dredd Foole & The Din, Birdsongs of the Mesozoic, and Roger Miller. In 1987, Miller released the Groping Hands EP and Volcano Suns pounded us into submission with their pot-leaf emblazoned third LP, Bumper Crop. Veterans of the first Volcano Suns lineup, Big Dipper scored with a six-song EP, Boo Boo, and a follow-up LP, Heavens. In 1988 Taang! emptied their vaults and released a slew of Mission of Burma demo recordings and studio out-takes, Dredd Foole’s second LP belatedly appeared, and Big Dipper triumphed with the LP Craps, with its classic Suns-era anthem “Song to be Beautiful.” In 1989 Volcano Suns released Farced, and in 1990, the double-LP Thing of Beauty.

    From 1986-1990, The Noise reviewed many classic local singles, EPs and albums. Overall, 1986 was an extraordinary year: the moody pop-punk band Dumptruck released their second LP, Positively; there were also debuts by roots-rockers The Turbines, blues-minimalists Treat Her Right, the melodic Three Colors and Scruffy the Cat, and two-tone ska holdouts Bim Skala Bim.

     On the heavier side, fans were treated to The Oysters’ garage rock anthem “Mine Caroline”; the LP Burning in Water by the newly reformed Moving Targets; 1986 rumble winners Gang Green’s debut LP, plus debuts by Sorry and straight-edge thrashers Slap Shot. On the more avant-garde side were EPs by Uzi and The Wild Stares, and The Last Sacrifice scored with a compelling goth A-side, thrash B-side single: “Suspended/ Acid Rain Dance.” Further on the fringes were releases by Expando Brain, Holy Cow, and Sleep Chamber.

    Veteran bands also released fine debuts and second albums; these included: Classic Ruins, Men & Volts, The Flies, The Dogmatics, Chain Link Fence, The Nervous Eaters, and The Neighborhoods, with their long-awaited second LP The High Hard One.

    1987 also offered an outstanding roster: In the roots-rock category were Dumptruck’s third, and The Turbines’ second LPs, plus Willie Alexander’s classic Tap-Dancing on My Piano. Three Colors and Dr. Black’s Combo also released collections, and the Mash It Up! anthology showcased local ska/ two-tone bands. There was also “Lunch With Ed,” a demo by the funk-percussion AEF-offshoots in Dogzilla. On the punk side, Clash acolytes Last Stand released their LP debut.

    Older bands such as Lyres and The Neighborhoods also continued to supplement their recorded legacy.  The Girls, an extraordinary avant-garde ensemble from the early 1980s, issued an LP, Reunion, which featured their immortal cult favorite “Jeffrey I Hear You.”  

    In 1988 mainstays Erik Lindgren, Willie Alexander, Men & Volts,  The Unattached, and Wild Stares all released noteworthy records, but this year was also pivotal for up and coming bands: on the roots-rock front were Nova Mob with “Cavalry”/ “Mad House,” plus Tracy Santa, and The Idlewiles, with “Hell in a Handtruck”/ “Fly,” and “A Room as High”/ “Maybe Tomorrow.” The Cavedogs released a pop single, “Step Down”/  “Proud Land”; The Blake Babies debuted with their 9-song LP, Nicely, Nicely; and Galaxie 500 issued a single, following it up with an LP, Today. Bim Skala Bim released their second LP, and Barrence Whitfield, with a new Savages line-up, his third.

   On the hard rock side, Gang Green and Slap Shot pleased their fans with sophomore discs; Hullabaloo and Bullet la Volta issued 6-song EPs; Anastasia Screamed released their first single.

    Other LP debuts arrived, from rhythm-and-politics combo Vasco Da Gama; Uzi offshoots A Scanner Darkly; synth/ grungers Common Ailments of Maturity; and noisemakers World of Distortion and Meltdown. EPs appeared by 1986 rumble winners Childhood and folk-revivalists Big Barn Burning, and The Raindogs debuted with their glum “Lonesome Pain”/ “Grey House.” The folk-rockers in Lazy Susan and Blood Oranges, and world-music aficionados Les Miserables, debuted, with cassettes, as did the inimitable Well Babys; and the poetic folkies in Ed’s Redeeming Qualities released two demos of classic songs.

    1989 was the year that the old order truly began to pass. To be sure, the long-awaited single, “Red Clouds”/ “The Bo Tree,” by Busted Statues finally appeared, plus debut singles by The Gingerbread Men and Mindgrinder (both featuring former members of Children of Paradise). Furthermore, Classic Ruins, Holy Cow and Treat Her Right released follow-up efforts, and the Zulus their first full-lengther; and pop veterans Push Push, garage rockers The Del Fuegos and The Five, plus thrash mainstays Jerry’s Kids and Slapshot, all got out LPs. But this was also the year of The Blake Babies’ Earwig, and LP debuts by The Slaves, Cxema, Buffalo Tom, Hollow Heyday, Miranda Warning, Bullet la Volta, and (1989 rumble champs) The Bags, as well as EP debuts by Anastasia Screamed, Masters of the Obvious, and A.C.  Demos by stomp-rockers Hell Toupee, psyche-recidivists The Void, and avant-edged racketeers Green Magnet School and Still Life all began crowding the oldheads off the racks. 

    In 1990, scene veterans such as Roger Miller(No Man), Nat Freedberg (The Titanics), Kenny Chambers (Moving Targets), Salem 66, and The Cavedogs all released quality LPs, and at the end of that year came Anastasia Screamed’s masterpiece, Laughing Down the Limehouse. But LP releases by Sebadoh, High Risk Group, and Common Ailments of Maturity also heralded the arrival of a new avant-garde sensibility, and single and demo debuts by newer bands were brilliantly abrasive (Think Tree, Gingerbutkis, Slaughter Shack, Medicine Ball, Six Finger Satellite, Bulkhead, Subskin Cables) and willfully odd (Left Nut, Uncle Foamy, Lunk, 7 or 8 Worm Hearts, and Judas & Natasha Experiments), but always original and intriguing. There were also more mainstream pop-oriented releases, such as those by Vasco Da Gama, Buffalo Tom, Laughing Academy, O Positive, Big Barn Burning, Sob Story, Letters To Cleo, Curious Ritual, The 360s, The Dambuilders, The Bosstones, The Vouts, and 1988 Rumble winners Heretix. Such pop bands were also to set the stage, if not the standard, for the next five years.

    As ever, “cult” bands often coalesced into the next period’s hot new acts. Psycho-Tec went on to form Think Tree; The Void became Rootlock and, eventually, Mascara; Mark Sandman (Treat Her Right) and Dana Colley (Three Colors) formed Morphine; Chic Graning and Anastasia Screamed split into Scarce and Delta Clutch, respectively; Rich Gilbert(The Zulus) went on to wider fame.

   And, finally, let’s not forget G.G. Allin. As if we ever could.

{mospagebreak title=1991-1995}

1991-1995
CROSSING GENRELESS TERRITORY
by Joel Simches

   There was never a more exciting time to be a musician than between 1991-1995.  Music and bands, crossing genreless territory seemed to flourish. It seemed that Boston was either the hotbed of creative musical freedom or a microcosm of the industry as a whole and a harbinger of what it would become today, for good or ill. You could go to the Rat, which still had some great shows. In fact, in ’91 Boston Magazine had voted the Rat the “Best Dive in Town!” But, sadly, head doorman/manager Mitch Cerullo was no longer as involved in the place.  He would still be there every night taking tickets and flirting with the young women, but as his importance faded with his ill health, so did the magic and the legend of the club.  Cerullo passed away in March of ’95, taking what little magic that club still had with him. The Rat would never be the same again. Bunratty’s came into its own as a creative musical hotspot in the early ’90s. With Chris Porter booking some fantastic bands like Cxema, Womb to Tomb, and Common Ailments of Maturity, for a while at least, Bunratty’s played host to the heavies of the scene and Chris Poster almost single handedly made Bunratty’s “cool” again, but the reputation of its own past and the sometimes rough neighborhood took its toll on the club’s attendance.  It reopened for a few months as the Melody Lounge, then it was Buns again, and then finally the club was sold to the evil empire that was and still is the Lyons Group and Clear Channel (as Local 186); clearly a sign of things to come.

    Through all the rock club drama within the remnants of the old guard, the Middle East became the hip place to be.  It’s where new talent was quickly discovered and given voice.  It was where established bands tried out new things on their audience. It was slowly reshaping the scene.  Mikey Dee would be there, air drumming to bands like Curious Ritual, Six Finger Satellite, The Barnies, Miles Dethmuffen, Laughing Academy, and Dreams Made Flesh.  In fact, Mikey created his own scene.  He was there every night as the champion of great music.  If he was at your show, you knew you were in a cool band.  Go there any night of the week and you could see a pop band, a metal band, a psychotic acid freak-out experimental band, and a belly dancer on the same bill. In fact, until the Downstairs opened in November of ’92, the Middle East was THE place to see the jaw dropping intensity of everything the Boston music scene had to offer.  The list of bands that made that club their home was a who’s who of Boston music, then and now.  This was a fertile time for music.

    It was in 1991 that T Max, along with Mary Feuer and Steven Silbert (from the band the Well Babies) assembled a cast of Boston notables such as Gabrielle Travis (Thee Atom Said, whose guitarist Reeves Gabrels would later go on to be David Bowie’s guitarist), Pat McGrath (Wheelers & Dealers), Brother Cleve (also in Wheelers & Dealers before he recreated the lounge music genre with Combustible Edison and work with Esquivel!) and many others, to stage a production of Jesus Christ Superstar, sowing the seeds that would become the Boston Rock Opera in 1993.  The BRO, under the direction of Mick Maldonado and Eleanor Ramsay, would stage Superstar many more times along with Preservation Act by The Kinks, Sgt. Peppers’ Lonely Hearts Club Band, and an original production written by Common Ailments of Maturity’s guitarist/ songwriter, Tim Robert, called Crackpot Notion.  The success of Boston Rock Opera opened doors for a lot of similar minded productions such as Acme Theater and Catbox Theatre among others.

    Once the Middle East Downstairs had opened, Bunratty’s and the Rat were on their way out.  Chet’s Last Call reopened as the Causeway, but even with booking wizard Martin Doyleputting together some spectacular shows, the club scene was changing.  Clubs were losing money once the smoking ban was passed in restaurants, parking was always an issue, and people no longer interested in going out to clubs where they were starting to book “bigger drawing” bands.  These bands were beginning to all sound the same, appealing less to musicians and more to the “college” crowd and a common denominator that would gradually creep lower and lower by ’95. Competition for good shows at the favorite haunts was starting to get fierce and it was hard for more eclectic and “interesting” bands to find a gig.  The growing competition between agents and clubs to secure the “drawing” bands would lead to intense booking battles between the Middle East and TT the Bears, whose shows catered to the same clientele, and also happened to be right next-door to each other.  The major clubs were slowly starting to back away from giving new bands a chance to develop in favor of filling their clubs with a reliable crowd that drinks a lot of Rolling Rock. It was becoming clear that the growing DIY/ indie community was beginning to need a new home.

    Enter the Kirkland Café.  In 1993, Mickey Bliss took this divey neighborhood bar, and with a makeshift stage and thrown together PA, the Kirkland soon became the hotspot for musicians who could no longer get a good show at places like TT’s and the Middle East.  The owner, Joe Hernon, loved having musicians in his bar and encouraged local personalities and bands to put their own shows together.  Pretty soon Mikey Dee started having his own nights there, booking bands he made popular on his radio show, On the Town with Mikey Dee on WMFO.  Mikey’s radio show was intensely popular with the bands he championed and bands were eager for airplay and to do a live set on the air.  Those bands also made the Kirkland their new home.  It was here that Al Janik brought his own brand of zaniness to the world, or at least to the Somerville/ Medford musical elite, with Rattle Heatre, which featured members of Scruffy the Cat and Trojan Ponies.  It was also here that the swamp rock of Slide began a tradition of Mardi Gras and Bastille Day celebrations, which included a who’s who of guest musicians, performing tradional New Orleans classics.

    Singer/ songwriters started to gain prominence as well as female-fronted rock powerhouses, whose doors of opportunity were opened by the likes of Tanya Donelly and Kirsten Hirsh (of Throwing Muses) and Kim Deal (Pixies).  Their sound became pervasive through the ’90s and made local heroes out of Letters to Cleo, Jules Verdone, Tracy Bonham, Jennifer Trynin, and Paula Cole, who would go on to make Dawson’s Creek a household word, and giving loads of local bands the opportunity to get their songs played on the television show.

    Independent record labels started to find their feet in this era. Their low overhead, DIY ethic became appealing for bands simply looking for wider distribution, airplay, and better shows.  Local labels like Curve of the Earth and Cherry Disc became music scenes unto themselves, cultivating relationships with bands and setting up highly successful club shows featuring bands on their roster. These labels would eventually make stars out of bands like Letters to Cleo, Powerman 5000, and Godsmack. Castle Von Bulher records brought AIDS prevention and awareness to the Boston community with their Soon compilation.  This record label would be home to much of Boston’s ethereal/ goth scene through most of the ’90s.

    Once Nirvana’s ubiquitous hit “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was getting regular airplay on Kiss108, major labels were quick to sign as many indie rock bands as they could, snatching indie labels left and right and making music more accessible with national distribution.  While this worked for some bands, the corporate mentality and unrealistic expectations of record sales from bands that were never given ample time to develop would take its toll on bands and indie labels alike.  This would put the spotlight on the Boston scene, but it would also spell a certain death for anyone fortunate enough to get a contract.  Bands that got signed from 1991-1995 include Think Tree, The Shods, The Cavedogs, Letters to Cleo, Jen Trynin, The Dambuilers, The 360’s, Gigolo Aunts, Galaxie 500, The Story, Buffalo Tom, Little John, Paula Cole, Aimee Mann, Orangutang, and John Dragonetti (Wadi Trip) who as Jack Drag would go solo and have his four track demos put out by a major label, giving birth to a whole new DIY studio ethic.

    It would insane to try to list all the musicians who made this era memorable, but rest assured, though a lot of these great bands splintered and imploded, many  members are still  involved in the industry.

{mospagebreak title=1996-2000}

1996-2000
FAR FROM SUCKODYNE
by Lexi Kahn

   You remember your first kiss, your first drink, and your first time behind the wheel of your very own car. How about your first issue of The Noise? For me it was 1996. I went to the Middle East to see Betty Goo and casually picked up issue #160. Everyone on the cover (Women of Sodom and Miles Dethmuffen) had tongues and hands exploring everyone else. I was hooked. Industrial experimental sexcapades right alongside pure pop bliss? I would soon learn that the genre-blending cover design was de rigueur for this spunky little fanzine, an unintentional statement; at least two bands, but always at least two people pictured. (The trendbuster came with #191, May 1999 when beefcake Jed Parish of The Gravel Pit graced the cover solo.)

    The second half of the 1990s was interesting, because the decade had rolled in on a wave of new technology and by ’96 well-known bands like Radiohead had demonstrated new ways to use the new toys. Indie labels were everywhere and recording boomed. In Boston, a pop/ punk/ garage town, the trend seemed to usher forth artsy, dark pop. The Noise was still packed with reverential reviews of three-chord demons like The Freeze and Lyres and Gang Green and The Nines, and of course there was no stopping pop powerhouses like Gigolo Aunts and The Pills and Jack Drag. But a certain experimental quirk had blossomed. Bands like Think Tree, Galaxie 500, and Throwing Muses had certainly paved the way, but by ’96 there was an insistent polished wash of synthesized moodiness. Darkwave? Alternawave? The Noise called it all kinds of things (in issue #168, of Flexie, “powergoth” was coined). It was a great time for bands like edgy acts like Turkish Delight, The Moors, Lunar Plexus, Women of Sodom, Opium Den, Neptune, Cordelia’s Dad, Gingerbutkis, Mistle Thrush, Reflecting Skin, Sabot, Curtain Society, Splashdown, January, little a, One of Us, Litterapture and Saint Chimera. On his very computerized “Astounding World of Tomorrow’s Modern Hi-Fi Audio” (reviewed in issue #160) Pete Weiss issued a time-stamp with “I Hate Rock and Roll.” He sings “Axl Rose can suck my Wang Chung and the Beatles can suck my Flipper/Cuz all the songs have already been sung and that goes double for the Big Dipper.” Heh. I like that. And I loved those bands.

     From 1997 to 1999, I averaged five nights a week in the clubs. Five years. Fifty Noises. Hundreds of bands. Though the 1996 Noise poll (#168) threw the most kudos to sludge rockers Quintaine, artsy Turkish Delight and January and prog/space newcomers Count Zero, it was the pop bands mostly winning record deals… and WBCN Rumbles. Oh, those sweet Boston harmonies, infectious hooks and power chords. From ’97 to ’99, delivering the best of the pop rock (and a ton of Noise coverage) were Grooveasaurus, Betty Goo, Lifestyle, Orbit, Sameasyou, Push Stars, Morphine, Sheila Divine, Permafrost, Seventeen, Rocketscience, Boy Wonder, Francine, Angry Salad, Flying Nuns, Pooka Stew, Inhale Mary, SayhitoLisa, The Flux, Douglas Fir, Lockgroove, Mary Lou Lord, Jules Verdone, Ramona Silver, Dirt Merchants, Godboy, Gigolo Aunts, Chin Ho!, Wide Iris, The Pills, Jack Drag, Jumprope, The Irresponsibles, Standing on Earth, The Sterlings, Poundcake, Merrie Amsterburg, The Shods, Star Ghost Dog, Calendar Girl, Mindflow, Tanya Donnelly, Jim’s Big Ego, The Mudhens, Krebstar, Baby Ray, El Camino, Cheerleader, Control Group… man, this list only barely begins to scratch the surface.

    And what about the cats churning out surf/spy? And ska.  Like Rustic Overtones, Brian Jonestown Massacre, Bim Skala Bim, Seks Bomba, Babaloo, Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Skavoovie, Strangemen….

    And the guitar-driven, no-holds-barred face-melters! Random Road Mother, Canine, Sleestack, Chinstrap, Honkyball, Tree, Shiva Speedway, Roadsaw, There, 8-Ball Shifter, El Dopa, Bentmen, PM5K, Scissorfight, Underball, 3 1/2 Girls, Skingame, Neon Jesus, Darkbuster, Cave In, Kicked in the Head, Gangsta Bitch Barbie, Half Cocked…

    And the DIY punk and garage straight-up rock of Toxic Narcotic, The Peasants, Firepig, Luau, Ross Phasor, Rootlock, The Vic Morrows, Real Kids, Amazing Royal Crowns, The Freeze, Lyres, The Nines, Media Connection, Underball…

    And don’t forget the purveyors of roots and rockabilly and blues and funk:  Slide, Speed Devils, Crown Electric Company, Racketeers, Caged Heat…

    Five years. Fifty Noises. Hundreds of bands. Good times. GREAT times. Here are some of my favorite Noise moments from this enormously fertile half-decade.

    #173, July 1997, in which Mikey Dee writes the Scissorfight cover story and outs the scary-looking Ironlung as a scholar, a Papas Fritas fan, and then they discuss the weather for a whole quarter page. (From the same issue, does anybody have a copy of The World’s First Van Halen Tribute Compilation advertised on page 32, with Cherry 2K, Elbow, Fuzzy, Sam Black Church and more?)

    #175, Oct 1997, in which Erik Lindgren (Birdsongs of the Mesozic) educates us newbies on the brilliance that is Mission of Burma. (Same issue, The Upper Crust placed a full-page ad of themselves in full wig & make-up surrounded by mostly naked concubines.)

    #180, April 1998, in which Einstein writes a one-line review of the Heretix reunion show. “For the love of God and your fans, don’t leave!” (Same issue, The Syphlloids put the lesbian orgy ad that began to alarm some Noise distro locations.)

#185, Oct 1998, in which Tim Catz (then of Honeyglazed) challenges Superhoney, Honey & the Bees, and HoneyWest to a bowling match to keep the name. T Max suggests Beer Chess instead.

    #186, Nov 1998, in which Kim Morbey writes a comprehensive two-page review of Boston Rock Opera’s Perseveration.

    #187, Dec 1998, in which the letters column contains a rally to remove “so called writer” Joe Coughlin, citing “I knew the real Joe Coughlin. Joe Coughlin was a friend of mine. This guy is no Joe Coughlin.” The letter is signed, “Joe Coughlin.”

    #191, May 1999, in which T Max is officially on a tear about censorship when one of his distro locations objects to a porn star in a band ad. Yes, The Syphlloids again. (Same issue, a letter from Rockets Burst from the Streetlamps starts a letter-war that would wage for many Noise issues to come).

    Oh man, I could list best-of moments all day but I’m running out of space already! What about the one where Corin “always stuck a funny phrase here” Ashley wrote a one-word CD review reading simply: “Suckodyne.”  Or the one in which Mike Baldino did a whole big profile on the rockin’ women behind the scenes!? What about the one where Beverage broke up and wrote us a letter saying that it’s the fault of their fans for not coming out to more shows? And the Dubrow/ Coughlin letter war! And the one with our butts when me and T Max sat on the photocopier!  Wait, T Max, Rita, Lolita, there’s too much in 1996–2000 to fit into just two pages! PLEASE, I need more spa—

2001-2006 
THE Golden Age 
by Steve Gisselbrecht

   I’ve been living in Boston and seeing live music here for almost twenty years now.  The last five years have been a really great time for Boston music, just like the five before them, the five before those, and so on.  One constant through all this has been the wealth of great bands in pretty much any genre or sub-genre you’d care to name.  Another has been the presence of people bitching about how the Boston music scene today is pathetic compared to the way it was in [insert bitching person’s chosen Golden Age here—if I wanted to be cynical about it, I’d say to insert time period corresponding to bitching person’s early 20s here].  And I can easily understand why some people look at the present only to long for the past.  I, too, look back wistfully at bands and venues from, well, the late ’80s to mid-’90s. (When I was in… hmmm… my early 20s.)  I miss the Channel and Bunratty’s.  I miss Throwing Muses and Concussion Ensemble.  And yes, damn it, I miss the Rat.

    But, as a fan of live local music, I don’t miss the space downstairs from TT’s being a bowling alley, and I certainly don’t miss Great Scott-as-scary-BU-pickup-bar.  And as I looked over the covers of The Noise from the last five years, this is what struck me most about the current state of the Boston music scene:  the constant ferment of band breakups and venue closures is the raw material and driving force for people to get together in new configurations and make new things happen.

    Case in point: an issue from 2002 had Neptune, The Halogens, and Bleu on the cover.  Bleu is still making music, but has left Boston for sunnier shores (joining Paula Kelley and Helicopter Helicopter, to name just two recent LA-bound emigrés).  The Halogens are no more, but many of their songs live on.  The Luxury recombines elements of that band with new musical voices, and the result is excellent.  And Neptune has been through a lineup change and a reorganization of their sound and instrumentation, and have come out the other side with the strongest batch of songs they’ve ever written, a fantastic new full-length album, a rabid local fan base, and perhaps even a bit of a “growing buzz,” whatever that is.  Being asked to open for Mission of Burma has to count as buzz.  And no discussion of great new things coming from the ashes of the old in this new millennium would be complete without a mention of Burma, whose reunion could have been a brief, nostalgic lark, and instead turned out to be the beginning of a powerful, vital, and hopefully long-lasting second career.

    Count Zero also appears on a recent cover (T Max really seems to love this band, for some reason).  This is another band in flux, weathering a whole series of lineup changes and continuing to produce interesting new music for their devoted fans.  For that matter, this is another demonstration of our losses setting the stage for our gains:  without the breakup of Think Tree, painful though that was, we wouldn’t have had Bongo Fury or Count Zero.  The phenomenon repeats itself over and over:  All the Queen’s Men are gone, but Ziaf appears.  Officer May gets a new sound and becomes Dirty Holiday.  Cancer to the Stars gives way to a profusion of Ryan Lee projects.  And if we hadn’t lost Green Magnet School and Kudgel, we might never have heard the grim beauty of Black Helicopter.  These guys have a gorgeous new record; you don’t have to take my word for it, but I hope you’ll trust Thurston Moore, who signed them to Ecstatic Peace just before it became part of Universal.  So now Black Helicopter is on a major label, sort of, and no one is more surprised than they are (except perhaps the bean counters at Universal, if any of them have heard any Black Helicopter).

    And speaking of major labels, let’s talk about The Dresden Dolls, who’ve appeared on THREE Noise covers in the last five years. (The middle one was for winning the Rumble in 2003.)  I have loved this band since they were playing house parties and the Lizard Lounge, so it has been a joy to watch them blow up, becoming known outside of Boston and getting signed to Roadrunner Records. (Kind of an odd fit, really, and I’m betting they haven’t hung out with a lot of their labelmates.)  This band’s detractors are almost as passionate as their fans, to the point that Amanda Palmer bitterly namechecks the Noise Board in the song “Backstabber.”  But selling out 2000-seaters in Salt Lake City, touring Europe and Australia, opening for Nine Inch Nails, and meeting David Bowie probably take a lot of the sting out of those barbed comments.  Boston is sort of famous for sending its talent out to fly and fall on the big stage, but I wish for better things for the Dolls.

    One of these rags-to-riches-to-rags stories is compellingly told in Everything I’m Cracked Up to Be, the product of another transformation and reinvention.  Jen Trynin tried being a solo act, fronting a band, playing in someone else’s band, and now she’s come back as an author.  For several of the last five years she played in Loveless, but it was as a frontwoman that she experienced the rock ’n’ roll rollercoaster, being wooed and then spurned by all manner of big shots.  This is the story she relates in her book, and while it’s a sad story, it’s both edifying and engaging.  It should be required reading for any musician who dreams of “making it.”

        I don’t want to give the impression that everything good in Boston music is recycled, because of course there are wonderful new people and projects coming along all the time.  Humanwine is a great example; their core members moved to Boston and started the band fresh, and have captured a whole lot of (well-deserved) attention in a very short time.  Amoroso is a very young, very new band that I like a lot.  The members of Harris, Faces on Film, Paper Thin Stages, and my beloved Tristan da Cunha (to name just a few) are all playing in their first Boston bands.  Plus some reinventions are so complete as to constitute new beginnings: who could have imagined, seeing the Abbey Lounge five years ago, the clean, airy, great-sounding room it has become? (I think the graffito in the renovated men’s room says it best:  “This is like the Taj Fuckin’ Mahal!”)  And I have to mention Great Scott again, which is a welcome and terrific-sounding addition to Boston’s live music venues.

    Nor do I want to be Pollyanna here; Boston has lost some wonderful people, places, and things.  It was a sad day for Boston music when Lilli Dennison moved away, and the property at 608 Somerville Ave. that she tried so hard to make work for so long is no longer a rock club of any form.  Nor can I really consider the Wonder Bar a fitting successor to the institutions that used to occupy that space. (Let’s just not even talk about Kenmore Square, shall we?)  And while I don’t want to start listing the real, irremediable losses we’ve suffered (because I wouldn’t want to leave anyone out), the death of Mikey Dee in 2003 was a horrible blow.

    I’ve been in this sad, valedictory mood lately, because it seems like suddenly a whole slew of great local bands are breaking up, moving away, or both: Wildlife moving to San Francisco, Spheres and Exultation of Larks calling it quits, Big Bear losing John McWilliams and giving up their old material.  And (most painful for me) Night Rally breaking up and Luke Kirkland moving away. But, once again, this is part of a constant cycle of change, the ecology of a music scene, and that’s the thing to focus on.  Now I’ll get to see what these amazing musicians come up with in their NEXT bands.

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Rita & Lolita – News

Page Contents

EPIC EVENTS

Rita:  Those of you out there who have read my biography Goddess of Everything know that my whole life has been one tremendous time after another. Lolita: Yeah, I’ve heard it a zillion times. Your existence is just a series of important intervals. Rita: At least I’m not a Jon Butcher stalker sweetheart. But you give me a great idea for this month’s Question of the Month: Describe what you believe to be the most important moment in local music history. Let’s ask legendary blues keyboardist ANTHONY GERACI (Sugar Ray & The Bluetones): That’s a tough one because there are so many pivotal moments we are so lucky to have here in the Boston area. So I will relate an important musical history day from my life. It was the mid 1970’s and I was attending the Berklee College of Music. I had befriended and started to play with a blues band from New Hampshire – The John Wardwell Blues Band. We got the opening slot to open for Muddy Waters for a whole week at the uber cool Paul’s Mall (The Heath Brothers were at the Jazz Workshop next door.) Needless to say every blues musician/ fan within a hundred miles made the pilgrimage there that week, and during that time I met everyone in the local blues community… and since there weren’t too many piano players around a lot of people asked me for my telephone number – Michael Ward (soon to known as “Mudcat”) was one of them. Two of Muddy’s band mates were Bob Margolin and Jerry Portnoy and they both lived in the Boston area and when they weren’t on the road with Muddy would host jam sessions mostly at Great Scott’s in Allston, And they invited me to do a lot of those sessions. Ronnie Horvath (soon to be Ronnie Earl) was just finishing a stint with Johnny Nicholas and was looking to put a blues band together with Mudcat… they called me and came to my house and Ronnie said “you’re going to be in my band.” I said okay and after one rehearsal quit Berklee and went on the road with what was soon to become Sugar Ray & the Bluetones – who I still play with today. So for music history in Boston that would be the most important day for me. *** BRUCE MARSHALL (The Bruce Marshall Group/ The Nor’easters): It’s a hard question! I think the J. Geils Band getting signed to Atlantic Records in 1970 was a huge moment for our region and paved the way for many other New England acts that followed. Doors opened for acts like Aerosmith, James Montgomery, The Cars, Boston and a host of others. Although Centerfold was their only number one hit, the J. Geils Band established themselves as the premiere live show in New England for many years and set a high bar that was tough to match. They wrote most of their own songs and the original lineup was intact for quite a while and the current lineup anchored by Peter Wolf continues to tour today. I’m enjoying my forty third year as a full time musician and after eight thousand shows I enjoy performing today more then ever! *** JULIET SIMMONS DINALLO (Juliet & the Lonesome Romeos):  Berklee College of Music.  It has brought so many people from so many different walks of life that landed (and stayed) in Boston because of Berklee.  There have been so many bands that succeeded on  a local/ regional level to bands that went onto arena fame that somehow spun other relationships and musical partnerships that began at Berklee. *** JOHNNY BARNES (Johnny Barnes & The Night Crawlers): Barry and The Remains opening for the Beatles put Boston bands on the map. Along with their great Boston sound and hit songs. The Barbarians had “Are You a Boy Or Are You a Girl”  and played The TAMI Show. These were historic moments in Boston rock. *** FRED PINEAU (x-Atlantics):  In my opinion, the most important moment in local music history was when Jimmy Herald decided to jump off a cliff and turn The Rat into an original music venue. In the 1960s the local scene had some great artists, including one of my all time favorite rock bands – The Remains. But back then these artists had to play sets of current cover songs, with maybe one original song stuck in the set. But when Jimmy embraced the fledgling punk and alternative artists, it opened the flood gates for a lot of us who had been playing their own music for years to largely no audience. I had already been playing at CBGB and Max’s Kansas City in New York City with The Atlantics, and that scene had solidified, but now Boston was going to follow suit, and Boston rock ’n’ roll would never be the same. The first time that I played The Rat I was in Bonjour Avaitors, and I believe that we were the third original band to play there, Jimmy booked us for a Friday and Saturday night. Only us, and we had to play three fifty minute sets. However, Jimmy paid us seventy five dollars per night. College radio was supporting all alternative artists, and as you know, it all came together in a way that we may never see again.

***

NOTABLE NOTABLES

Rita: How about some fall factoids? Now is the perfect time to spread the word about what’s going on in the New England music scene. Lolita: I hate when you make sense. WARD HAYDEN’s band GIRLS, GUNS & GLORY opened for PETER WOLF & THE MIDNIGHT TRAVELERS at The Outdoor Lowell Summer Music Series. *** The Middle East opening up the refurbished T.T. The Bear’s this month or next under the new name Sophia’s. *** Many of DUKE ROBILLARD‘s photographs and abstract paintings at The Blackstone River Theater in Cumberland, Rhode Island, from February to the first week of April when his band will do a concert with SUNNY CROWNOVER. Duke says he’s excited to be presenting his work at this beautiful treasure of a venue.  He recently played a show at Chan’s in Rhode Island and violinist MARNIE HALL and her 17-year-old guitarist son BAXTER sat in for a few tunes. Bax is also in a great band CLYDE BROWN. *** Guitarist BOBBY STANTON has been elected to the Massachusetts Country Music Awards Associations Hall of Fame. He put himself through college playing with local country music icon JOHN PENNY and T.H. & THE WRECKAGE. *** BARRENCE WHITFIELD & THE SAVAGES and DIABLOGATO shook the roof at a recent gig at Once in Somerville. A great place to catch a gig. Ow Ow Ow! *** Ex-JAMES MONTGOMERY BAND drummer JIM KERSEY had a recent medical emergency. He is recuperating and hoping to get back to normal in the near future. *** Hip Hop artist MR. LIF‘s latest record project will be out in the middle of the month and called The Life & Death Of Scenery. It features DJ Q’BERT,  AKROBATIK, INSIGHT, GONJASUFI, CHESTER WATSON, and is narrated by WYATT CENAC (Bojac Horsemen). *** The trio MAMBO SONS reunites on November 11 at Blackeyed Sally’s in Hartford, Connecticut, to celebrate the release of guitarist TOM GUERRA‘s solo album Trampling Out The Vintage. The band is Tom on guitar and vocals, SCOTT LAWSON POMEROY on bass and vocals, with JOE “The Cat” LEMIEUX pounding. *** THE THALIA ZEDEK BAND released Eve at Great Scott’s in Allston. The night included MINIBEAST (with Peter Prescott of Mission of Burma). BLACK HELICOPTER and POSITIVE NEGATIVE MAN. *** Transplanted New Hampshire guitar ace MATT STUBBS is back from a six week tour with CHARLIE MUSSELWHITE. His show at The Plough And Stars on October 10 is gonna be killer. Matt also runs the blues jam at The Common Ground on Harvard Avenue. *** Downbeat Mondays are back at The Plough And Stars. *** Fun fact: RICK BARTON (Continental) has a dog named Brutus. *** OEDIPUS (WBCN) will be inducted into the Massachusetts Broadcasters Hall Of Fame. The induction ceremony takes place during the Tenth Annual Massachusetts Broadcasters Hall Of Fame Awards luncheon at The Boston Marriott in Quincy on October 13. *** MILE TWELVE is a great four-piece Americana/ bluegrass band with EVAN MURPHY on guitar and vocals, BRONWYN KEITH – HYNES on fiddle and vocals, NATE SABAT on upright bass and BB BOWNESS on banjo. Bronwyn and BB are two rocking ladies. *** JOHN PERESADA, SKIP FISHER and STAN BLUES JR. from THE THROWDOWN BLUES BAND are now in GHOST TRAIN. *** JAMBALAYA HORNS rocked the house at Jalapeño’s Mexican Restaurant in Gloucester. *** Sax player MARTY PHILLIPS had total heart failure and is now recuperating at a South Shore Hospital. Keep your eyes peeled for the scheduled benefits. SATCH ROMANO is in control for his band mate and friend. *** PAPER CITIZEN held their EP release party for Postcards In Transit at The Midway in Jamaica Plain with BEAR SALON, ADESSA ON BAY STATE, and DINGO BABIES. *** THE SLEEPING MONKEY BAND from Malden with DAVE and SUE STEIN and BEAN LEFEBVRE gigged at The Leatherheads Motorcycle For The Peabody Firemen event at the end of September. *** Northampton’s art and dance rock band BELLA’S BARTOK came back from a month long tour of West Virginia, Virginia and Pennsylvania. We asked them to tell us something about their latest adventure and they said, “We went to all the Subways to eat fresh.” *** Did you catch  THE RYAN LEE CROSBY BAND and RAY CASHMAN at The Tavern At The End of The World? Why not? *** RICK BERLIN & THE NICKEL AND DIME BAND are in the studio recording basic tracks for their fourth album with JOE STEWART at Dimension Sound. Rick: “We think it’s our best ever. JANE MANGINI‘s work on it alone puts it over the top.” *** PHIL IN PHLASH has a new book of his photos due out to cross all musical boarders. *** New Hampshire blues singer and banjoist T.J. WHEELER is putting together his “Hope, Hero’s and The Blues” program for schools and libraries and other gigs for the upcoming school year. During a recent kindergarten performance about 20 little kids sitting cross legged in a trailer at Grant Elementary School moved their arms in circles to mimic the wheels of a train while Wheeler imitated train sounds on his guitar. *** Check out the Man Ray/ Halloween celebration on October 29 with WRAITH at The Paradise. *** CARLOS FOLGER tells us “all good girls go to heaven and all bad ones go to The Paddock Lounge in Fitchburg for the Wednesday night jam hosted by THEM CHANGES. *** On the first Thursday of every month check out BRUCE MARSHALL’s open mic at Beef and Ski in Bridgton, Maine. The room has excellent acoustics and the slow cooked roast beef is legendary! *** New LETTERS TO CLEO five song EP Back To Nebraska out mid-October. This is the band’s first new music in 17 years. The lineup features original members KAY HANLEY (vocals), MICHAEL EISENSTEIN (guitar), STACY JONES (drums) and GREG MCKENNA (guitar). We dig the catchy and classic Cleo sounding “Can’t Say” and so will you.

…

MORE EPIC EVENTS

Rita: Enough gossip! Let’s get back to asking another local legend about a blast from the past that still has them shaking in their boots. CHERYL ARENA (The Cheryl Arena Band):  I’ve been playing music for a wicked long time, so pinpointing the single most important moment in local music history is near impossible for me. But the thing that popped into to my head was the original House of Blues in Cambridge. For the first few years (before it went corporate and became the House of No Blues) the place was a mecca for the blues. It was all blues and nothin’ but the blues and it was thriving! Thanks to the talent buyer, the late Teo Leosmeyer who was also a musician, a keyboard player, who played for a time with Freddie King and then Johnny Clyde Copeland. Teo knew everybody in the blues world and if they were still living he brought them in!  I got to hear so many of my blues heroes because of him and not only did I get to hear them but I also got to play with a bunch of them!  I played there all the time with my band usually on weekend nights and the touring bands were usually on weeknights so I would get to see them. Some of my best memories there were hanging out and playing harmonicas with Jr. Wells in the green room, playing with Louisiana Red on my birthday, playing with R.L. Burnside two nights in a row to a sold out house on a Monday and Tuesday, watching Albert Collins walk through the crowd with his guitar playing his blistering licks, playing several times with my dear friend, the soulful Johnny Clyde Copeland and his then teenage daughter Shemekia, talking shop with William Clark and trying out his amp after the show. Oh man, I could go on and on with stories. I sure do miss that place! *** TOM GUERRA (Mambo Sons): The most important day in local music history occurred on April 5, 1968, the day after Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated. As the nation’s inner cities erupted into violence following the announcement of the assassination, James Brown (who was scheduled to perform at the Boston Garden that night), pleaded with the citizens of Boston for peace. Fearing more violence, Mayor Kevin White wanted to cancel the concert until councilman Tom Atkins suggested that Brown continue with the show while getting the local PBS station to simultaneously broadcast the event.  The concept was to encourage people who didn’t already have tickets to stay home and stay off the streets. Ultimately, the idea was accepted by both Kevin White and James Brown.  As the show progressed, some unruly fans started to storm the stage, followed by police who tried to keep order. Sensing that a violent eruption could happen at any second, Brown stopped the show and asked the police to stand down and then spoke to the rowdy fans directly by asking them for some respect.  The crowd listened to Brown, and the show went on peacefully. The TV broadcast was looped all night long.  The next day, Brown walked the streets and continued to ask the citizens of Boston for peace, reminding them of Dr. King’s stance on non-violence.  Brown’s pleas and leadership worked, and Boston was spared the riots that beset other major American cities during that terrible spring of 1968.  Following this event, both black and white America started to look up to James Brown as a spokesman for the African American community. *** BOB LEGER (Bob Leger): The Boston area has a great musical heritage from The Boston Tea Party to The Rathskeller (The Rat), Jonathan Swift’s and many others, to the advent of stadium rock. It is hard to point to one most important event. I saw The Beatles at Suffolk Downs in Revere, and The Rolling Stones at Manning Bowl in Lynn.  For me, personally, it was 1966. My band Ritchie’s Renegades was competing in a battle of the bands at Boston Garden. At the end of the day we came away with all of the marbles. It was truly an epic event that I will never forget. *** GARY SOHMERS (King of Pop Culture):  Most important event in Boston’s modern music history? In 1962, WBZ AM switched from a part-time musical format which included mostly middle of the road music and a inkling of safe rock ’n’ roll, switched to the Top 40 format at the time only being broadcast on legendary local rock ‘n’ roll station WMEX.  The massive reach of WBZ AM radio at that time gave Top 40 music (which included surf, rock ’n’ roll and rhythm and blues) a bigger footprint in America for acts like The Beatles, The Supremes, The Beach Boys, and countless talented ground breakers who began their paths to international success. Being able to influence teenagers by the millions with music had a powerful impact on all those affected by it, whether it be playing music or just buying music, the marketplace and the players were meeting on a larger scale. Most important event in my Boston musical history?  I moved to Boston in 1983, and was lucky enough to land a long term gig on Lansdowne Street at the Metro, through its transformation into Citi Club and then to Avalon. During that time, I was also lucky enough to work with, and get to know Jean Tasse, who was a general manager of the clubs for Patrick Lyons and the Lyons Group, but who was known to many as the Mayor of Lansdowne Street.  Knowing Jean was like knowing the Pope… if he liked you, you were golden… Jean appreciated loyalty and was loyal in return. After approximately one thousand nights at the club over nine years, working the first Aids benefit with Dionne Warwick, Cindy Lauper, Rachel Welch and others, working with Red Hot Chili Peppers, Beastie Boys, Eric Clapton, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Prince, Cab Calloway, Allman Brothers, B52’s and hundreds of other musicians, the most important event was meeting Jean Tasse at a WBCN lunchtime concert featuring Joe Perry Project. Tasse put me in charge of the backstage door on my first day and I wouldn’t let Pat Lyons in because I didn’t know who he was and Tasse had told me to not let anyone in… so I didn’t… I earned Tasse’s trust that day and it was well worth it.

…

INSIGNIFICA

Lolita: Back to babbling. Connecticut band WEST END BLEND is on a fall CD release tour for Rewind from Vermont to North Carolina with HAYLEY JANE & THE PRIMATES and a Northeast run with THE Nth POWER. Check out their Halloween weekend gig with DOPAPOD and BIG MEAN SOUND MACHINE in Hartford, their home town. *** The largest annual rock ’n’ roll event in New England happened for the fourth time with thirty six music acts featuring veterans from The Rat. The bands donated their performances and the five dollar cover charge and raffles benefited the Hull High School Music Department with emphasis on special needs. This great gig was held at The C Note in Hull and ended the second day of October. *** The Spotlight Tavern just hosted DEREK JOHN BERGMAN  with special guest JOHN ARUDA, followed by CASEY HERLIHY. These three extremely talented musicians are some of the best the North Shore has to offer. *** JULIET SIMMONS DINALLO’s new track “Whirlwind” on Feel Like Going Home – The Songs Of Charlie Rich is a great song. The CD is produced by her husband MIKE DINALLO and also includes cuts from KEVIN CONNOLLY and JOHNNY HOY. *** Check out the new release by SESSION AMERICANA called Great Shakes. *** The MORPHINE documentary Journey of Dreams is coming soon. *** Drummer extraordinaire BOB NISI accepted a position at Emerson College as an affiliate faculty member working with Jazz Dance 1 students. *** Klezmer band EZEKIEL’S WHEEL has their record release party for Turning Point at Passim’s the first week of October. *** THE DELTA GENERATORS are a great honky tonk rock ’n’ roll roots and blues band with a killer slide guitarist and harp player. Their new album Hipshakers and Heartbreakers is incredible. Check it out. *** Our old Boston U. friend JOAN MYERS told us about a brand new Myers Media release from BRUCE MOLSKY an old time music fiddler who teaches at Berklee.  Molsky’s Mountain Drifters is loaded with Americana and blue grass music and has Boston natives STASH WYSLOUCH on guitar and ALLISON DE GROOT on banjo. They all met at Berklee. *** THE GIZMOS tribute album is finally out. TOM LEGER from THE BROOKLYNS and MIKE Q QUIRK from CLUB LINEHAN A GO GO are the Cryptic Friends on track 10 covering “Cave Woman.” All 15 tracks from the first three Gizmos EP’s are covered. *** CHARLIE FARREN and AMANDA CARR sang their Boston anthem “Strong” at the opening ceremony for The Bruins’ at the hockey team’s new practice home – the Warrior Ice Arena in Brighton.  The facility has a dazzling 75,000 square feet rink with 660 yellow seats and a rink wide view of the traffic zipping east and west on the Mass Pike. *** One of the songs on the new JOE BLACK metal CD is “Care About You” written by JIMMY D’ANGELO (August).  CHARLIE FARREN is on lead vocals, Joe on bass, AART KNYFF on acoustic guitar, KEVIN FIGUEROA on drums and JOHNNY PRESS on all electric guitars. *** STEVE MORSE‘s talented artist son NICK is selling his works through the website Airlifting. Go to the artists page on the site and look up Nick Morse to see his work. Enjoy! *** R.I.P North Shore folkie MARTY NESTOR and actor/ TV personality  CHARLIE FLANNERY.  Charlie co-wrote many of the songs on North Shore guitar ace BOB LEGER’s latest release Imaginary Dream. *** Boston Americana artist DIETRICH STRAUSE has a new album How Cruel That Hunger Binds and had a great gig at Oberon in Cambridge. *** Heavy metal gods MASS are doing pre-production for their next release. *** Female rappers AISLING PEARTREE and SHALOM are working on their next EP called Angels In The City that includes seven hip hop/ r & b/ and soul songs. *** Thunder Road in Somerville is celebrating their first anniversary. Congrats! This is a killer club folks with a lot of powerful performances already under its belt. *** ERIN HARPE opened for ZZ TOP at The Indian Ranch in September. *** The Lizard Lounge celebrated its 10 anniversary of its Open Mic Monday. Go there and raise a glass to 10 years of supporting local music. *** RICK BERLIN and ROBBY MANOCHIO continue to work their store front songwriting plan. They write you a song. You define the style, genre and topic. Pretty cool! *** The Cabot in Beverly adds classical music to its already broad repertoire. *** DANIELLE MIRAGLIA and JOCELYN AREM have formed a new duo called NEW YORK SLICE. *** PETER WOLF joined BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN & THE E STREET BAND on the final night of their tour at Gillette Stadium for a rave-up version of THE ISLEY BROTHER’s “Shout.” Peter joined the same band for the same song during a gig last February. *** KATHEI LOGUE (Killer Children) plans on being up here the first week of Rocktober to put together the final edition of her new wave mag Killer Children and visit her old friends. Kathei believes it will be only in print unless she has the energy to figure out how to publish it online.

…

FINAL EPIC EVENTS

Rita: And now for the last of our epic event answers. JOHNNY PRESS (The Johnny Press Mess): The most important event in local music history was the opening of the Boston Tea Party. Boston was always a hit or miss place for acts (example: Cream was hated at the Psychedelic Supermarket). The Tea Party established Boston as a great home base for many bands from Buddy Guy to Led Zeppelin. It also had a secondary benefit of making Don Law a star promoter. He then promoted huge shows at the Music Hall, the Orpheum and Boston Garden. There are many live anthologies (mostly bootlegs) that proudly mention that the performances were in Boston. Most of these were at the Tea Party. *** SUNNY CROWNOVER (Sunny Crownover with The Duke Robillard Band): Well, that’s a real hard question, but from a historical perspective, I’ll say that the founding of the New England Conservatory in 1867, and then the founding of Berklee College of Music in 1945. So many incredible musicians have graduated from these institutions and made huge contributions to the local, national, and international music scenes that I think they deserve to be recognized for their importance. I don’t know if that counts as moments but I’d say they changed New England music more than anything else I can think of offhand. *** RICKY KING RUSSELL (Ricky “King” Russell & The Cadillac Horns): The most important moment for me in local music history was Led Zeppelin at The Boston Tea Party on Berklee Street in 1969. Zephyr with Tommy Bolin opened, and Candy Givens was great – a very powerful singer. But then Robert Plant and Led Zeppelin came on, and everything changed. The idea of a blues rock band was etched in my mind forever. Everyone else in the room knew something bigger and better had taken place. Time stood still. *** TIM MANN (The Music Emporium): Most important musical memory is hard to answer with just one event. The historical events that stand out the most are The Remains opening for The Beatles on their last ever tour (now over 50 years ago!), and the Mayor calling the governor of Rhode Island to get Keith Richards sprung from jail so The Stones could play The Garden in ’72, or ’73. And third, any show at The Boston Tea Party! My personal most important musical moment is the first time I played with Greg Hawkes (The Cars). It was 2003 in his livingroom. We played “Between The Devil and The Deep Blue Sea” on ukuleles. *** RON LEVY (Levitron): Boston has long been a cultural center for education on all levels. Thus, it has been a magnet for serious purveyors of music, art, medicine, literature, science, research, religions and all studies since its founding in the 1600’s. Growing up here in the mid-1960’s, I got to see so many of the best of the best in blues, jazz and r & b. I talk about these experiences and impressions in my book, Tales of A Road Dog (Levtron). Free samples on my site. I saw the likes of Otis Redding, James Brown, Jimmy Smith, Muddy Waters, B.B. King, James Cotton, Albert King, John Coltrane, Wes Montgomery, Art Blakey and many others while in their absolute prime, close up, in local Boston venues and clubs. The first time I saw Ray Charles, he was hiding under my parent’s bed. Our maid Cora cowering above, weeping beneath the covers, was half wearing one of my mother’s nightgowns. It may have been the very one my father had just given my mother on their most recent anniversary? No matter, my father was beyond livid, especially when he sized up all of what was going on! Curious of an innocent pair of sunglasses,  I clumsily knocked them off the adjacent antique nightstand. When I bent down to pick them up, I spied Ray under the bed. I didn’t quite recognize him without his glasses at first, but quickly put it together. Just like my old man! I slid him his glasses and he said, “Thanks son.” I recognized his voice from his hit song “Georgia.”  Needless to say, it was quite a night after that, especially when my mother came home from shopping too much again. Cora didn’t make dinner that night either. It was rather embarrassing the next day, when my Uncle Shlaimy got busted selling smack to Mr. Charles on the Logan airport tarmac. It was in all the papers, but that’s another story for another time. A few years later, Paul Snyder’s parents had season tickets to a theater in the round in Framingham. They always went there because Barbara Streisand, Steve & Eydie, Tom Jones, Sammy Davis Jr, Dean Martin and others appeared regularly. Englebert Humperdinck was Mrs. Snyder’s particular favorite. That was their schtick. For my folks, it was either classical or Broadway tunes, never any Ray Charles. One time, the Snyders gave their two tickets to Paul. That night Ray Charles & The Raelets, his classic band with Billy Preston on B-3, were on tap and they considered in their generosity, that it was “a raucous rock ’n’ roll show the boys would love.” (I don’t believe they really liked Ray Charles that much either, frankly.) We were like 14 or 15, best friends and had a band called The Frantics.  Which we were, whenever performing in front of anyone, never mind a real audience. Our parents took turns shuttling us back and forth that night. The very next day, I moved our kitchen radio up on top of our parlor piano, tuned to 1090 WILD-AM and began my musical journey, one finger at a time. A few years later, amazingly enough, I was playing piano and organ, touring with Albert King for awhile, then B.B. King for seven years! Since, I’ve worked and met with many of the all-time greats (even Ray!) performing, recording, learning and making many, many wonderful friends across the country and around the world. It’s all in my book (Levtron). So all in all, I’d have to consider that Ray Charles’ concert was pretty important.  The actual moment would have to be, being baptized by Ray’s sanctified original rendition of “What I’d Say,” complete with the Raelets thumping their tambourines and shouting a gospel style call and response, the horns blaring past a raging full moon while marching a New Orleans second line, not to mention the crowd going berserk and wilder than I had ever imagined possible. All of this was an important and historical time, at least for me. Unbelievable! *** Rita: Great answers.  Sounds like a good time to end the column. Lolita: Come back and see us again for our next column posted on November 1!

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Live Reviews

We get lots of calls from bands asking for coverage of their live shows. Please be advised that shows are never assigned for review. Noise writers cover what they choose to attend. It’s logistically impossible to honor or acknowledge these requests. The Noise has always had its ears closest to the ground in greater Boston. If you’re doing something even remotely exceptional, we’ll be the first to tell the world. If you’re horrible, same thing.

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AL JANIK, BROTHER MOSLEY/ GUSTER     
Kirkland Kissoff Kirkland Café/
Earthfest The Hatshell 5/26/07
      Right after Saturday Morning Softball—No Matter What I rush over to the Kirkland Kissoff and catch the end of Brother Mosley’s set. They’ve got a jammy/college party feel—“Dancin’ In the Streets” sticks in my head. The new bass player, Rob, has his friends hi-fivin’ his performance at the end of the set.
      Fellow softball player Al Janik is a wonderful spirit who performs because he has to. He admits he ain’t got no voice, but that doesn’t stop him—he’s all personality. He brings up his nine-year-old son Kalvin to play The Stones’ “Time is on My Side” on his three-quarter sized acoustic while Walt Bostian clangs the xylophone duct-taped to the toy fireman’s hat on Al’s head. Everyone joins in singing—a touching moment to be remembered. Throughout the set Al strips off five T-shirts exposing the joys of his Kirkland experience. He honors Mikey Dee, Joe Hernon, Slide, the polka celebrations, and Rattle Heatre. I polka with his lovely wife Katherine—man, I’m exhausted. Al flies around the club like a low flying plane as I finish my pitcher of beer. He appropriately plays “We Gotta Get Outta This Place”—and Kevin, Matt, and Walt (the rest of the band) scatter back into the audience.
      After some dudes get up on stage and give us the figures for number of dead in Iraq, Tail takes the stage. They’re a folky acoustic-sounding band with good vocals, but the fresh air outside the club is calling me and I know where I have to be. Farewell to the Kirkland—I’ll be catching up with Mickey Bliss’s new Club Bohemia at the Cantab soon.
      Next stop—the Hatch Shell, where Earth Day has been blessed with the most beautiful day of the year. WBOS publicized this event well—I’ve never seen this field so crowded. I’m selling my peace trinkets far from the stage but I can still see the action provided by the big screen stage left. It’s Guster filling the speakers and they break into one of my favorite movie songs—“Brazil”—complete with all the words I don’t know.  In keeping with Earth Day, lead vocalist Ryan Miller lets the plastic-bottle-tossing members of the audience know that technology has not come up with a method to recycle flying bottles yet. The band pleasantly sucks me into their easy-going melodies. Their songs are catchy—listen to “Satellite” on their myspace page—I bet you can find it without me giving you the URL. My two hours (meter limit) is up and I’ve got to work my way through the sunburned masses.   (T Max)

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JIMMY RYAN & HAYRIDE  
Toad, Somerville, MA 5/23/07
      Combining lightening-quick bluegrass, hell-bent country, old-time gospel, and folk tunes, guitar god Duke Levine and mandolin champion Jimmy Ryan can rip solos like nobody’s business. They tear through their opening song, “Face Up,” and I feel as though I just had a religious experience. Have I seen the light? Is this perfection? It feels like it just can’t get any better than this.  “Oohs” and “ahhs” could be heard throughout the crowd, captivated by the band on stage. Every few minutes the band crescendos and the crowd erupts into full out yee haws, alleluias, and other cries of joy, spurred on by the two virtuosos setting fire to their fret boards.  I left thinking how a Jimmy Ryan and Hayride show is not just a show, it’s a spiritual experience that I just can’t walk away from without feeling slightly changed for the better. Go see them and get baptized yourself. Word has it that you can even ask Jimmy for your own gospel shirt.   (Kier Byrnes)

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WHO SHOT HOLLYWOOD
Middle East Cafe, Cambridge MA 6/8/07
      How to begin? Who Shot Hollywood takes the stage and I am stunned—I’ve no idea how old they are but they look like junior high school students! I am stunned further by the fact these kids are doing that ’60s garage thing, sounding not unlike…oh…Chesterfield Kings, let’s say. In the immediate crowd, jokes are flying—references to ABC Afterschool Specials, Brady Bunch, and even Paul Williams! But despite the jokes, everyone seems suitably impressed. And so they should be—WSH sounds great. While clearly building off a ’60s garage core, their sound broadens, allowing more generalized pop elements as well. It’s that strong sound that’s going to carry them when the novelty (being a bunch of very young kids) wears off. In one song, they rhyme “ice cream cone” with “Dee Dee Ramone”—how can one hate that?
      And once again, another national headline act asks Downbeat 5 to open for them. Maybe The Knitters and Hoodoo Gurus and Fleshtones know something. So why aren’t YOU here?   (Frank Strom)

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THE PUBCRAWLERS, PARIAH BEAT, THE CRUMB SULLIVANS, RED SAILS
The Bulfinch Yacht Club, Boston MA 5/26/07
      The Bulfinch Yacht Club is steamy hot after a gorgeously summer-like spring day in Boston—the kind of day I guess that makes a bunch of people decide to go to Hooters, which is a hotbed of activity next door. There is a pretty good turn- out here and nearly everyone is pressed to the stage as I arrive to Red Sails playing their last song, which, judging by the crowd, was an electrifying set. They are fronted by one of those super-talented musical wunderkinds. I catch about 60 seconds but can tell that they are good. I realize that conveying this quickly and assertively is an accomplishment in itself. I remind myself to pick up their EP.
      I am giddy with excitement knowing that I am finally going to catch in person, the wonderfully illusive duo, The Crumb Sullivans—a true gemstone. Their very first tune needs no musical accompaniment as, almost magically, the instant connection they make with the crowd incites standoffish Boston to clap, whoop and stomp to the beat. Bobby Diggs has a voice that really needs no amplification— wonderfully edgy, slightly mournful, always intense. This mostly hard-of-hearing punk-stylish crowd is paying attention, erupting into dance, getting inspired. An integral part of the diamond that is The Crumb Sullivans is the rough; like the inspired, spontaneous music of yore played on porches or around the campfire where sometimes the only percussion available is a hand clap or a foot stomp—a beautiful unpretentious way to make music to feed the soul and entertain. They are deciding structure on the fly and discuss mid-song the direction they want to go. If one is feeling it, he will simply let the other know he wants to jam a little solo. “One more time for the people!” becomes a rallying cry.
      I love how carnally and spiritually raw this band is. The in-between song banter is tremendously entertaining, the admission by Bobby, “…the married of the two, you may have noticed all of my songs are about running away, and Slippery Lips (a harmonica reference, my drunken companion had asked) Manning, the single boy’s songs are all about killing hookers.” One performing booted, the other barefoot, the song ‘The Fighter’ is a semi-autobiographical yarn about Bobby’s big chance in the Golden Gloves 50 pounds ago when he fucked up, “Like I’ve fucked up everything else in my life.” Something about The Crumb Sullivan’s thought-provoking (and audible) lyrics makes me suddenly truly value music that is a little different, a little deeper, a little less self-important. I get their T-shirt, their EP, and I would take them home, lock them in a box, and force them to invent me a personal soundtrack, if I didn’t feel an uncomfortable twinge of selfishness at the plan. I am officially totally spoiled. The Crumb Sullivans: Hear them. See them. Do it now.
      Next up: Pariah Beat. They’re trying for a folk sort of punk feel but sound muddled—although one haircut is better than the next. The smell coming from the singer practically demands that their music not stink. The solos are meandering, the uninspired songs lack clarity yet they have loads of friends who seem to generally enjoy; but at the Bulfinch, pitchers are cheap.
      A seven piece with tin whistle, bagpipe, and accordion, The Pubcrawlers hit the stage. Irish wakey punk with a dose of rock in style, they are definitely a step up song-wise. The drummer Andy is a tank whom I witnessed drinking directly from two pitchers of Guinness (Celt-style) yet is still somehow excellent. The singer has a great bassy rattling voice. They’re good. The tunes credited to their piper seem extra well done. I like the punk flavor; they can really pull it off. An impromptu tribute to their new guitarist shows a glimmer of classic rock ’n’ roll ability before they jump back into their Irish New England Celtic romp. The band can sure play, the singer can sure sing, the piper writes a mean song, and the drummer can certainly drink andstill perform exceptionally well; it’s a rip-roarin’ good time.   (Stace)

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DREAMCHILD, TWELTH OF NEVER, HAPPY THE CLOWN, COBER  
15th Anniversary for Bats in the Belfry  
Skybar, Somerville, MA  6/9/07
      It’s the 15th anniversary celebration of Laura Wilson’s WMBR Bat’s in the Belfry radio show. Besides the music, there’s clothing, jewelry, and art on display and for sale. There are yummy coconut skull cupcakes, ginger bat cookies, and lots of dark chocolate available for the taking.
      Sheila Bommakanti is Cober. She plays an Epiphone SG double neck with two Marshall amps that bookend her dramatically lit stage presentation. Her guitar parts are doubled with loops and her smooth dark vocal melodies swim in a sea of reverb. Her long black hair curves like waves of snakes—the visual balance of the music created. She expertly executes changes between the guitar necks with calm control. You could say she’s a goth version of Bleu’s e-band—a very soothing sensual experience.
      The volume explodes as Happy the Clown smears the room with echo and feedback from their guitar, bass, and keyboard. A drum machine keeps the beat and a slide show offers a range of images from warping little shapes to the pope, to Mexican pyramids, to Hitler, to Charles Manson. The mood is dark while the calm vocals drift over the band’s insistent drone. I have to admit I thought I’d be bored by this, but the show works, and the audience pays attention ’til the end of Happy the Clown’s half hour set.
      Twelfth of Never from western Mass. looks a little unsettled as their soundcheck takes longer than expected. They’re a split gender six-piece playing goth folk that sounds medieval at times. Aurora Grabill’s violin has almost an oboe quality to it. They remind me of Mistle Thrush with Katie Bunting’s soaring melodic vocals. Extra voices join in on “Shades of Grey” adding extra dimension to a band that already has nice depth—the cello adds warmth to the low end.  Things get lively with their last song, “The Tiny Draw” (from their second CD, Things That Were), where the keyboard player Matthew Davis picks up a guitar and wails for a while.
      Dreamchild, a dramatic two-piece, sets the stage with Japanese curtains masking the electronics on either side. Centered is a harp sitting rear center. Frank Gerace plays a synth guitar that lets him sound sometimes like a small orchestra, as in their performance of a French opera. Cheryl Wanner’s drawn expressions, heavy black makeup, and laced dress enhance her cabaret-type acting as she sadistically pours the phrase “You fear my touch, come feel my touch.” She goes back to the harp for a rendition of Peter Gabriel’s “Here Comes the Flood” while Frank conjures up a group of flutes. Next he creates angelic voices for “Weeping Willow.” A show highlight is “What Lizzie Took,” a musical tale of the 1892 Fall River brutal ax murder—it’s monstrous and marvelous. If you’d like to experience a European cabaret—we have it right here in Boston. Frank and Cheryl work together as if they’re spiritually making love.
      Congratulations to Laura Wilson for tonight’s nice mix of dark talent. May bats continue to occupy her belfry for many full moons to come.   (T Max)

WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE 
Model Cafe, Allston, MA   6/6/07
      Brothers Scott and Jim Healey are playing their first show with new bassist Jesse tonight at the Model, and Model regulars LOVE to see other Model regulars (and staff too) play here.  So when the band starts the first song, the audience quickly piles up front to check out the new lineup.  For having just learned the material, Jesse doesn’t show it and lays into it full throttle.  He’s turned way up, and his sound adds a nice crispness to the bottom, which separates the guitar and bass clearly.  Jim’s vocals start out too soft, but that’s quickly remedied although his guitar should still come up a little.  Scott’s playing a louder drumkit and the toms and kick punch really hard, especially on “Paper Asshole.”  An hour of heavy, heavy rock rattles bottles and glasses off the counter but in the end it’s worth losing a beer for.   (Seth Cohen)

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ANDREA GILLIS, HRT
T.T. the Bear’s 6/1/07
            HRT is that mom band from Sharon, MA, with its own Canadian reality TV show—Rocker Moms. Lisa Yves is the dominating force of HRT. She easily wails through octaves while bouncing rhythms out of her keyboard. Her songs tend to have a jammy bar band feel, which you’d expect out of songs titled “Tequila” and “Coffee Jam.” Then there are the more sophisticated Emily Grogan tunes that get mixed in. The band doesn’t really have the chops to conquer these songs, but I have to give them an A for effort. As far as pre-show promotion, most bands would be happy with a line in The Noise. HRT brings their following into T.T.’s with some help from a Fox TV morning spotlight. Gotta love these moms.
            Andrea Gillis is the closest thing this city has to a modern day Janis Joplin. She’s raw in her delivery and despite her band being two members down, they prove quantity isn’t essential for quality. Greg Steinbaugh fills in on bass (with only a tape to rehearse the tunes), Bruce Caporal (Auto Interiors) is the confident smacker behind the kit, and the guy who comes close to stealing the show from Andrea, Asa Brebner, who has got this freekin’ beautiful tone coming out of his Strat, echoing early days of Hendrix minus the feedback. They’re in your face with “You Can Jump into the Fire”—the Harry Nilsson screamer. “Mr. Bartender” gets sultry. The title of the gospel-ly  “Hand on the Plough” plays to Andrea’s day gig. And “One Eye Open” is destined for the A-side of a piece of vinyl that will be flying at us in July. They bring the house down with Ike & Tina Turner’s mega hit, “River Deep – Mountain High.” Wooo—what a workout.
            Couldn’t stick around for The Silver Lining—but I know that they pop perfectly with rock.   (T Max)

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We get a lot of calls and emails from bands requesting coverage of their live shows. Please be advised that shows are never assigned for review. Noise writers cover what they choose to attend. The Noise has always had its ears close to the ground in Greater Boston. If you’re doing something even remotely exceptional, we’ll be the first to tell the world.