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  • The Noise Feature 02/04: 2003 Poll

    This Noise poll focuses on the Boston music scene from December 2002 to December 2003. The poll combines the results of two polls conducted at the end of 2003. The first poll consisting of 25 hand-picked ardent local music followers to determining the nominees, and the second, a public poll held here on our wesite, thenoise-boston.com.

    JJ Rassler’s acceptance speech at The Maxie Award Ceremony pretty much defined this poll. He said, “Thanks to the Dresden Dolls for not having a guitarist.” This is an all-time record in The Noise poll. The Dresden Dolls take the honors in eight of the eleven categories they were nominated in.

    Live Band: Dresden Dolls
    The second place band, Waltham, was far behind the winner. Last year, Damn Personals won best live band.

    New Band: Apollo Sunshine
    Jesse Gallagher’s dad, R.G. Gallagher, still an active Boston musician, accepted the award for Apollo Sunshine at The Maxies. Guess who won best new band last year? Dresden Dolls. The Information, Read Yellow, and The Hidden all tied for second in the web poll.

    CD: Dresden Dolls
    At The Maxies, the Martin brothers (Dresden Dolls website designers) were accepting all the awards. They got into doing a little dance and other performance activities in their eight trips to the stage. In the poll, Bleu and Paula Kelley placed a close second and third. Last year, The Brett Rosenberg Problem delivered the top CD.

    Song: Dresden Dolls – “Coin Operated Boy”
    In a majority of these categories the Dresden Dolls wins are decisive, with more than a 10% point lead. Reverse’s “Helicopter” placed second. Last year, Red Chord’s “Taxi” won Best Song.

    Vocalist (m): Aaron Perrino (Dear Leader/The Sheila Divine)
    Luckily Dresden Dolls’ drummer Brian Viglione doesn’t do much singing. Bleu came in a close second. Last year, Ad Frank won this category.

    Vocalist (f): Amanda Palmer (Dresden Dolls)
    Andrea Gillis (Red Chord) and Jen Rassler (The Downbeat 5) followed. Last year Andrea Gillis wore the Best Female Vocalist crown. At the Maxie Awards Robbie Road Steamer did the presenting and totally hijacked the show. Tina, the owner of Johnny D’s, was so offended by Robbie’s presence that she insisted he stay off the stage for the rest of the event. He didn’t.

    Guitarist: JJ Rassler (The Downbeat 5)
    Dave Pino (Waltham) tied JJ Rassler in the web poll, but JJ was the highest voted nominee, breaking the tie. Last year, the lovely and talented Irina Yalkowsky was the best guit slinger.

    Bassist: Ed Valauskas (The Gentlemen)
    There was a big difference between the two polls in this category. Ed grabbed first in one poll and second in the other, securing him the top slot. Last year Mission of Burma’s Clint Conley took the honors.

    Drummer: Brian Viglione (Dresden Dolls)
    A whole two categories pass with no Dolls in sight, but Brian decisively won over Mike Piehl (Reverse) who hands over the crown from last year.

    Keyboardist: Amanda Palmer (Dresden Dolls)
    Rick Berlin (Shelley Winters Project) placed second. He and Amanda shared first place last year.

    Other Instrument: Kier Byrnes – banjo (Three Day Threshold)
    At The Maxies, Kier brought his entourage up on the stage which included a beautiful female specimen who had graced the pages of Hustler. In the poll, Meredith Cooper – violin (Shelley Winters Project) placed second. Kier has won this category three of the last four years.

    Stage Presence: (tie) Kier Byrnes (Three Day Threshold) and Amanda Palmer (Dresden Dolls)
    We couldn’t break the tie between two polls. Each winner won one poll and the percentages of their wins were exactly even. This is the only new category added to The Noise poll this year.

    Radio Station: WFNX
    WZBC was the top nominated station, but WFNX ran away with the popular vote. Last year, WZBC won with ‘FNX nowhere in sight.

    DJ: Anngelle Wood (WFNX)
    Last year, Shred (WBCN) took the honors. Carmelita (WAAF) and Bob Dubrow (WMBR) also did well this year.

    Critic: Joe Coughlin (The Noise)
    Joe nosed out Mike Baldino (The Noise). Sleazegrinder was on top last year. At the Maxies, Joe’s old Incoming Mail rival-Bob Dubrow, accepted his award.

    Photographer: Liz Linder
    Liz’s percentage margin of winning the top nomination outweighed the percentage that Lindsey Walker had in the popular vote. Kim Genereux clicked the best shots last year.

    CD Cover Art: Dresden Dolls
    The Dolls gathered twice as many votes as second place Ad Frank received. 27 won last year with the art on Animal Life.

    Website: rockschool.com
    The two polls differed in this category. The Rock School website had a better percentage win over the Dresden Dolls website. Last year, thenoise-boston.com took the honors, but this year, their nomination was voided because the site was taking the poll. Since it seems unfair to selectively void the website’s nomination when everyone else at The Noise can be nominated, next year thenoise-boston.com will be eligible for nomination in this category.

    Local Record Label: Kimchee
    Kimchee has won two years in a row. Traktor 7 took a strong second place. There was also a good showing from Fenway Recordings, Q Division, and, now defunct, Pig Pile Records.

    Producer: David Minehan

    David, six time winner and also last year’s winner, made a rare appearance at The Maxies this year. The highest voted nominee was John Dragonetti. Ducky Carlisle placed second in the popular vote.

    Club: Abbey Lounge
    In a percentage count between the two polls, The Abbey Lounge edged out 11-time winner The Middle East, who took the honors last year.

    Personality (m): Joe Coughlin (The Noise)
    This category had major differences in the two polls. Kier Byrnes placed a close second in a percentage point battle. Gene Dante (Hedwig/ Project Eno) walked away with last year’s Male Personality crown.

    Personality (f): Lexi Kahn (The Noise/ Low Budget Superhero)
    At the Maxies, Lexi was in shock. She thought she had no chance against the multi-winning Amanda Palmer. Again, a difference in the two polls led to a percentage battle that Lexi won. Lexi’s been wearing the Female Personality tiara for the past year.

    Highlight of The Year: The Smoking Ban
    I’m glad to see that even with the big backlash from smokers that the Smoking Ban is acceptable among the majority. Last year’s Highlight was Mission of Burma’s reunion.

    Disappointment of the Year: Mikey Dee passing away
    Mikey Dee (WMFO/ Planetary Group/ The Noise) had such an effect on so many local musicians, the lack of his presence hurts the entire music scene. Last year, the loss of 608 (Lilli’s) won this sad category.

    Hall of Fame
    Only The Noise Editors vote on the members of the Noise’s Hall of Fame. Already in The Noise Hall of Fame are:
    Willie Alexander, Roger Miller, Jeff Conolly, Rich Gilbert, Albert O, David Minehan, Mark Sandman, Tristram Lozaw, Thalia Zedek, Aimee Mann, Oedipus, Billy Ruane, Kenne Highland, Dickie Barrett, Mikey Dee, Richie Parsons, and Alvan Long.

    The newest inductee to The Noise Hall of Fame is…Asa Brebner (Family Jewels)

    I’d like to thank everyone who took the time to vote, and everyone who came to the Maxie Award Ceremony. I’m interested in any feedback you may have on the poll. And, as usual, there’s already been a lot said about the poll and the Maxie Awards Ceremony on The Noise Board. So, until next year… but maybe it won’t be that long. We may run a shorter poll half way through the year-The Summer Survey.

  • Live Reviews | The Noise

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    WRITE A LIVE REVIEW

    You can improve your local music scene by taking the time to write about a show in your area. Write a live review of a New England act or acts of your choice at any venue you prefer. Email it to tmax@thenoise-boston.com with LIVE REVIEW in the subject. It will be posted on our website so all our readers can learn more about what you have experienced. Write to T Max at the same address for the live review guidelines.

    SPEEDY ORTIZ/

    DOWNTOWN BOYS/

    URSULA

    The Middle East Downstairs, Cambridge, MA

    12/9/15

    Speedy Ortiz cranked out a short winter tour with its Middle East date benefiting Girls Rock Campaign Boston. The GRCB is a program, which, though music education and performance, provides a supportive community to girls in order to foster self-expression, confidence, and collaboration.

    Sadly I had to miss the early performances by graduates of the program in favor of my son’s high school holiday chorus production. I arrived just in time to catch the last few songs of Ursula’s set. The duo – guitarist and drummer –were a dark, gothic pair of ladies. There was much noisy grinding of guitar and banging of drums, accompanied by copious screaming and moaning. If you have ever seen any movie from the’80s depicting a goth or punk band, then you’ve seen something akin to Ursula. If you have ever heard the sound of cats mating while Black Sabbath plays in the background, then you’ve heard something akin to Ursula.

    Next up, Providence, Rhode Island’s, Downtown Boys rip out an energetic set of political punk. Their sound combines the X-Ray Specs with the Plasmatics, and some Voodoo Glowskulls (sans the ska). It’s a killer combination that suits their far-left political passions.

    Speaking frankly, I could do without the nonsensical political ranks that blossom between each song. Most sound like random non-sequiturs – combining fascism, abortion rights, religious tolerance, and revolution – than any cohesive statement of position.

    Nonetheless, the music is stirring. Played hard and fast, bouncing from English to Spanish, they barrel through their half hour set like a multi-ethnic tornado. The most impressive aspect of Downtown Boys is their sax player. She looks and dresses like Cindy Williams – Shirley from the classis sit-com, Laverne & Shirley – and plays her sax like a lead guitar. She pulls out solos for every song and bounds around the stage unleashing Pete Townsend-esque leg kicks and mighty squawk from her instrument.

    There is so much to say about Speedy Ortiz. It’s hard to know where to start. They came out of nowhere (well, out of North Hampton, Mass.) in 2012 and have taken Boston and the national indie underground by storm with their noisy ’90s alternative rock style. Speedy Ortiz sound a little like every one of your favorite bands from that era without ever sounding like a knock-off. You’ll find some Breeders, some Belly, some Letters to Cleo. There’s some Liz Phair, some Throwing Muses, and some Juliana Hatfield. How can you possibly go wrong?

    As amazing as the players are, this is clearly Sadie Dupuis’ show. As she takes center stage in her baby blue and silver party dress, under blue and white lights, the band fades to the background. Her silver and blue hair, pale makeup and blue lipstick make her look like a like a cross between iZombie’s Liv Moore (Rose McIver) and Else from Disney’s Frozen. The effect is pale and icy while, at the same time, she pops like a sparkling, animated Cinderella. She is stunning and commands the audience’s attention without ever really having to try at it.

    The music is pure ’90s alternative guitar noise buoyed by Sadie’s effervescent vocals. When I say noisy, think Pavement or the Pixies at their most abrasive; but mixed with a little Sonic Youth at their most tuneful – now you have the picture. The masterful mix of melody and noise is something that I have missed immensely over the past 15 years. Speedy Ortiz performs a master-class on this technique. I’m instantly transformed into my 25-year old self, circa 1995. I pine for they heyday of WFNX and the alternative rock boom of that decade.

    Don’t get me wrong though. Speedy Ortiz is not a throwback act. This group resonates with both aging hipsters and the up and coming generation of indie rock fans. It is a pleasure to have been around long enough to experience up and coming bands take inspiration from the underground of my youth. And to be able to see someone do it as well as Speedy Ortiz is a true treat.

    When I sit back and recall the fact that this entire show is being put on for the purpose of supporting female empowerment through music and performance, it’s hard to think of another band that would represent as well as Speedy Ortiz.    (George Dow)

    THE MIGHTY MIGHTY BOSSTONES/

    GANG OF ONE/

    THE NEIGHBORHOODS/

    THE UPPER CRUST

    Hometown Throwdown “At The Rat”

    House of Blues, Boston, MA

    12/26/15

    I’ve been following The Mighty Mighty Bosstones and going to their shows for over 20 years now, but I was especially excited for this Hometown Throwdown when I found out that The Neighborhoods were one of the openers.  They are one of the many great Boston bands whose shows I missed in the early days, but have always wanted to see!

    First, the noblemen from The Upper Crust stride snobbishly onto the stage, adorned in their gilded 18th-century attire. These guys may not reveal their souls onstage but Lord Bendover, Count Bassie, The Duc D’istortion, and Jackie Kickassis, sure do bring on a kickass performance.  They play a timeless hard rock enjoyed by all!

    The Neighborhoods, definitely a part of Boston’s rock royalty, come on next.  They exert incredible energy, covering the stage from end to end, running and jumping while playing nonstop.  Their excitement is contagious and I feel the music running through me – the whole reason I love to see bands play live!  They play so many great songs, fantastic covers, a bunch of hits and all my favorites… save for one.  I get it, I get it, perhaps I would feel like taking a bunch of kindergarteners hostage too if everyone demanded that I play “Prettiest Girl” at every show for over 30 years.  They make up for it though playing a great cover of The Clash’s “Safe European Home.”  Before the song lead singer/guitarist Dave Minehan reminisces about seeing this great band perform in Harvard Square and how that day changed his life. “I started a band because of them, just like everyone else.”  As the song winds down, he sings loudly “And I’ve got so much gratitude.” Make sure you check out the Big Shot in this issue to see the man filled with gratitude.

    The evening continues now with a different vibe, a few songs from Lenny Lashley’s Gang of One.  Just one guy off to the side of a dark and empty stage. Alone with his guitar, he stands resolutely with a spotlight shining down on him.  His acoustic tunes don’t call out angrily, but tell stories with words that everyone can feel.

    Now, as the curtains are ripped down, The Bosstones pour out and we see a stage set to honor the old Rathskellar, “the granddaddy of Boston rock venues.”  The back of the stage is decked-out to look just like the brick front of the club, including the signs “Food – Drinks – Music” and above that “Rathskellar” in the old-style German font.  My introduction to the Boston music scene began in the seventh grade.  I wasn’t as immersed in this scene growing up as I would have liked, but I went to a few memorable all-ages shows at some of the Boston clubs.  For some reason though, I never made it down to that club, also affectionately known as The Rat.  It’s great to see this historical part of the Boston music scene, just as I imagine it once looked, and to see the bands that played it then playing it now!

    The Bosstones get the crowd excited just as soon as they enter and they keep the energy going. This is nothing new: every Bosstones show I have been to is like this.  The crowd is filled with hundreds of the faithful who plan for this show all year and book their flights well in advance.  They come in all ages, know all the songs, and sing along to every one.  There are also plenty of new fans: for some this is their first concert, for others it is just their first time seeing The Bosstones.  You can usually tell the groups of people apart by their expressions: the virgins are just as excited, but also pretty wide-eyed.

    The Bosstones are resplendent, all decked out in matching red plaid suits.  It is not unusual to see a few in the audience with the same eye-catching suits.  It is a Plaid Plaid World after all!  These guys put on a tight show.  It all looks so natural, just playing around, but then they break into synchronized dance moves, horns included.  And Dicky Barrett, the lead singer, smoothly tries on the many hats that are passed to him from the audience as he sings, “That’s a Helluva Hat You’re Wearing.”

    The reminiscing continues as we are introduced to surprise guest, Jimmy Harold, former owner of The Rat.  Dicky exclaims sardonically “He hasn’t aged a day, but then again he looked old back then.”  The laughter continues through the night, as do the songs.  Many hits are played as well as cover songs, including the appropriate one titled, “At the Rat” (by Willie “Loco” Alexander & the Boom Boom Band).

    After almost 30 songs, the night comes to an end, at least for the performance.  Dicky comes down from the stage to shake hands, sign autographs, and chat with the many new and familiar faces.   (Maia Kennedy)

    TRIGGER/

    DYR FASER 

    Out of the Blue Gallery, Cambridge, MA

    12/16/15

    I must begin this review by applauding the bizarre and cozy “gallery” this show was held in. More accurately, it’s one of the best venues I’ve ever been in, because it’s so unique and so comfortable and casual. Part odd-gift-shop, part indie-rock art-studio cubicles, and a sprawling schizophrenic “gallery”. You can even see that some cheesy clothing store used to occupy this space, by the mirrors on the ceiling! Across the street from the Middle East Cafe, this space should hold concerts every night!

    This show was put together by the lovely folks at the Boston Hassle, so I went blind, having heard none of the bands. And it couldn’t have been more perfect. Dyr Faser are a duo (possibly containing indie rock legend Thalia Zadek) doing lush, simple, vulnerable music, with twin reverb guitars over casio drum machine beats and a bit of cheap organ, while the video projections on the musicians made it look and feel like we’re seeing early Pink Floyd / Velvet Underground… except those bands didn’t play in a weird gift shop! I’d call it paradise– but then you’d think of a more-normal rock club! The audience even has a choice between love seats and recliners, or sitting on the carpeted floor, befitting the post-psychedelia of this first act.

    The poor lads in Trigger.  They would’ve made my Top Ten of 2015 had they only come up with a better band name and had some visual style, because they are thrilling and masterful: post-King Crimson (circa Red) indie-rock power-trio math rock, but not as derivative as most bands influenced by KC usually are. They have some monster riffs, but never fail to keep surprising me in new areas. Their sense of humor is also better than KC’s. And they are more fun than KC, too. Honestly, they are a lot better than I’m making them sound. I probably should’ve taken notes. Please, musicians – it’s not that hard to come up with a good band name. There are so many great words out there. Or invent your own. A name should advertise your music. If your name is boring, that means your music must be. See how that works? Make exciting or innovative music? Then come up with a band name that is innovative. See how that works? We’re all in this together!    (Shauna Erlbaum)

    LENNY SOLOMON/

    MARINA EVANS

    Cat in the Cradle, Byfield, MA

    12/12/15

    Back at the entertainment hub of Byfield, Massachusettes we’ve got Marina Evans opening for Lenny Solomon and his band. Every table is full in this big, square, high-ceiling room with the four-foot high stage. Host and booker Heidi Fram greets the audience and warmly introduces dues Marina who’s currently living between Rockport, MA, and Italy.  Marina presents herself well – with God-given pretty features and a well trained voice she’s got a lot going for her. She starts with “Blue Yonder” and from from her banter you get the feeling that having a husband living in Italy and family and friends in Rockport is pulling on those heart strings. “Middle of the Ocean” also reflects on her current situation. Her sets peaks with a lovely song that she sets up perfectly. During last year’s brutal winter she spotted a solo mitten in a large melting pile of snow. “One of Two” takes the lone mitten and turns it into a wonderful metaphor of one hoping to be reunited with another. I guess this song also falls nicely into place with her pair of homes.

    Lenny Solomon is up on the big stage next with the accompaniment of Andy Hollinger (lead guitar/ mandolin) and Don Barry (double bass). Lenny wears the classic country performer look well. He’s dressed in blue with long white hair and matching chin beard, topped off with a cowboy hat and a turquoise belt buckle.  The trio does songs about Robert Frost, fracking, a rockabilly singer, drinking the blues, a cat… and my favorite of the night, ” The Ballad of Little Squirrel,” that is set up perfectly with a story. On August 27, 2013, Lenny was walking his dog when saw a baby squirrel on the ground looking pretty dead. He scooped him up and set him on a picnic table, left him there and decided he go back to check on him the next day after breakfast. When he returned he saw that the little guy made it though the night, so Lenny took him in as a pet and gave him a small bird cage to live in while he recovered. The squirrel grew in strength, graduated to an aquarium home, and became a good friend. When the squirrel was healthy enough, Lenny set him free. And to this day the fuzzy-tailed rodent comes back to visit almost every other day. The song is as wonderful as the story. It made my night. (T Max)

    HUMMINGBIRD SYNDICATE

    Hibernian Hall, Watertown, MA

    11/21/15

    Sometimes there’s a great notion to create a multi-purpose band that features sympathetic talents. As long as there are people that like to sing and send words into other ears, there will be a band that is required to have lived with the past to reaffirm their influences and still stay focused on creating modern music. Let’s say hello to Hummingbird Syndicate, featuring local luminaries Jon Macey (Fox Pass), Lynn Shipley (Adam & Eve), Chris Maclachlan (Human Sexual Response), Lenny Shea (The Stompers), and two Californian folks I don’t know, Mary Jaye Simms and Dan Coughlin (Children of Paradise) who are not here tonight, being replaced by Tom Hostage (Macey’s Parade) and Rich Lamphear and Linda Viens (Kingdom of Love) and additional singer Jennifer Lewis Bennett.

    The Syndicate is built around an equal partnership of men and women with their merger of voices and three guitars. It’s a lot of wonderful songs with a guitar solo here and there, and a vibe that’s both sprightly and distinctly beautiful. For me, it feels like this group is bringing back the ’60s (in sound and spirit). Right out of the gate, we have pop for pop’s sake with upbeat melodies and lots of harmony. It is unusual to hear such a high concentration of covers (Monkees, Velvets, The Band, Dylan, Johnny Rivers, Grass Roots, Lefty Frizzell, Gene Clark, Flying Burritos, Ernest Tubb, lots of country/folk) amidst a handful of originals, but I guess that will change in time. The focus tonight is the release of their single, “Waterfall Away” b/w “I Want You to stay,” two lightweight retro-sunshine-pop tunes (which they play in both sets). They promise the imminent full album will include more pop, as well as moody tunes and non-pop stuff. Since this is only their first gig, we can only wish for more of their best. Good luck!   (Harry C. Tuniese)

    RONNIE EARL & THE BROADCASTERS with DIANE BLUE

    The Regent Theatre, Arlington, MA

    11/21/15

    Everyone in this packed old theater is expecting a red hot and blue night. For the first time in almost two decades the band has a female vocalist fronting them. Well known for his passionate instrumentals, Mr. Earl was named the 2014 Best Blues Guitarist of the Year at the Blues Music Awards, in Memphis, by the Blues Foundation. The addition of Diane Blue and her stunning vocals should bring the group’s performance to another level. The band starts and I am immediately struck by the look and sound of Ronnie and his playing.  He plays his crisp and very imaginative and technically impressive licks on his old Stratocasters (one white and another sunburst) and he’s dressed all in black with a white shirt. He’s also wearing a black beret that he tells me is a sign of support for the people massacred in France.  Eyes closed, lips tightly pressed together, clenched jaw, slightly hunched over and shaking his head no, Earl’s tone and chops are magnificent. You can hear a pin drop as the audience listens to every note he plays and every nuance he emotes. The supportive blues groove band consists of David Limina on keys, Lorne Entress pounding, and Jim Mouradian on bass. Throughout the long 20 song, almost three hour set, I really enjoy seeing Earl walk around the stage mid-song and support his band mates.  I love when he plays a beautiful chord and lets it ring for a couple of measures right in the middle of a lead solo. It’s just beautiful. Some of the best interplay of the night is when Ronnie and David duel it out. The sound in this “Fillmore West of Cambridge” Regent Theatre, built in 1916 almost a hundred years ago, is clean and clear. The set goes from jump and traditional blues instrumentals to country blues where Diane Blue is front and center. My favorite songs are Etta James’ “I’d Rather Go Blind” (from Ronnie’s album Just For Today), “Higher Love” and “I’ll Take Care Of You” from last year’s Father’s Day, “Double Trouble” an Otis Rush cover, “As the Years Go Passing By” an Albert King chestnut, and Magic Sam’s “What Have I Done Wrong?” Diane has an incredible voice and her stage presence is impeccable. You should hear her sing country blues classics “Malted Milk” by Robert Johnson and Tom Rush’s “Take A Little Walk With Me.” We got a lot of great music tonight!   (A.J. Wachtel)

    MATT BEDNARSKY

    Dedham Square Coffeehouse, Dedham MA

    12/11/15

    Originally from Connecticut, Matt Bednarsky has called Nashville home for some time. Tonight, he makes his return to the East Coast at one of my favorite little venues. His solo performance is a range of original tunes and covers, and even includes a mashup of well-known songs that delights the crowd. There’s little conversation among the two dozen people in attendance, some clearly there to enjoy the music, others walk-ins to get dinner or a beer.

    Matt tells all kinds of tales that night, including one of the time his guitar was damaged in a wind storm in a small town. The local repairman said it couldn’t be fixed, so he went to another to get a second opinion – this person happened to be that town’s mayor.

    Bednarsky’s voice is subtle and intense at the same time, with such a passion for his calling in his words, but spoken at a light volume. He debuts a few new songs, even one that “had only been spoken aloud a few times.”    (Max Bowen)

     

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  • The Noise : Rock Around Boston. – LIVE REVIEWS: September 2008

    littlecover301-.jpg
    Issue 301/ May 2010

    Support Local Music

    MUCK & THE MIRES, THE CURSES, THE SPRAINED ANKLES
    Great Scott, Allston MA
    7/19/08
    I’m not often out here Allston way, but how in God’s name can I pass up this line-up?
    Truth be told, I came here looking for a fight—with those goofy punk rockers the Sprained Ankles. Y’see, these heathens had cleverly written an ode to late lamented pro wrestlers (“Andre The Giant”), but in the most heinous of offenses, they excluded the legendary Bruiser Brody! Such a crime is impossible to overlook, so I’m prepared to rush the stage and clobber frontman Drew Kazoo with the stiffest lariat shot this side of Stan Hansen… when the band abruptly revises the song to include Brody! Disaster averted, I can sit back and enjoy the rest of the set, which is plenty fun indeed. The large Great Scott stage allows background singers the Brides of Tankenstein to really shine, striking campy poses to enhance the drama of “The Grandma Song,” and “Randy the Rock & Roll Pizza Wolf.” The big standout is new song “Sweethearts At The Mall”—delicious Brill Building glory. Sprained Ankles return to the studio soon for a new album, so hopefully they’ll get out at play more shows to go with it.
    The crowd picks up for the Curses, which is a good sign—for years now these guys have been one of the most dependable but overlooked bands in town. Unsung heroes, they always strengthen an otherwise so-so lineup. Whether The Curses drew the crowd tonight or not, as soon as they get going with their loud sweaty power-rock, the audience is in love with them. It’s a phenomenon I’ve seen over and over with them. Beforehand, frontman Brian Hammond apologetically predicts a sloppy set, but the Curses have their material down cold, so it’s another confident winning performance. Might I suggest some of the local music radio shows (rumor has it they exist) take note…
    Lastly it is with a tear in our collective eye that we say farewell to Muck & the Mires. Farewell for the next month or so, that is—they’re off on a West Coast jaunt, so we’ll have to buy a Muckotene patch and muddle through as best we can. At this point, with four albums, Muck has so much material that there’s no guarantee you’ll hear all your favorites every show. But tonight they manage to deftly cover many of the bases, including favorite covers “Lies” and “This Town.” I could suggest “Caught In A Lie” and “Girl Next Door” be permanently reinstated, but that’s like demanding caviar after being served filet mignon! (Unless you’re vegetarian—then it’s completely different.)    (Frank Strom)

    ELI “PAPERBOY” REED & THE TRUE LOVES
    Lollapalooza, Grant Park, Chicago, IL
    8/3/08
    If this year’s Lollapalooza festival proved anything to me, it’s that our beloved Allston homeboy Eli “Paperboy Reed” missed his decade by a long shot.
    In spite of his, ahem, whiteness, Reed seems to channel the spirit of old guard soul singers like Eddie Floyd and Sam Cooke with almost effortless ease. Decked out in what could best be described as a Mr. Rogers-influenced wardrobe, Reed leaves it all on stage today, belting the living shit out of his vocals while his stellar backing band, the True Loves, follow his every cue.
    Tucked away on one of the tiny side stages, Reed is far from the main attraction. But the upside to playing to a festival of 80,000 spectators is it’s almost impossible not to draw a crowd, and those who made a point of taking in Reed & the True Loves’ Memphis-style soul sound seem to appreciate they stopped by.   (Ryan Bray)

    SUPERHONEY
    Johnny D’s, Somerville, MA
    8/8/08
    Okay, so I’m admittedly behind the times since I’ve never seen Superhoney live but I’m determined to rectify this shocking folly by heading out to Johnny D’s tonight.  Superhoney takes the stage and their high energy funk and soul works like a magnet.  The Euro guy soaked in white leather can’t escape the vibe, grooving hard as he bumps into a dude with dreadlocks down to his ass who just bounced off an Asian chick who moves like Gumby next to the ghostly pale gamer… everyone is dancing. You can’t stand still to this stuff.  Joan Pimentel fronts with a resilient voice and incredible poise. Doug Sherman’s (guitar) too-kewl-for-school grooves are awesome to watch.  This amazing seven-piece performs a couple oldies but goodies like “Super Duper” and “Taste My Wine” along with a few new ones. If you wanna shake yer tail feather, go see Superhoney.   (Kitty Speedway)

    ANDREA GILLIS BAND, NEW FRUSTRATIONS, TRIPLE THICK
    Cantab Lounge, Cambridge MA
    7/11/08
    There’s gotta be something off-putting about Triple Thick these days. I can’t exactly put my finger on what, but there must be—they’ve been playing around a lot in recent months, yet not attracting any attention. Their sound is a stripped down fury of 60-second bursts of angry and funny expressionist art.
    They’re kind of a less poetry-oriented version of Television! While that’s more than enough to amaze and amuse this critic, I’m further astounded by drummer Jim Seeley’s leg. Seriously. It’s a total blur—like an optical illusion—that’s how frenetic his drumming is! They struggle with some serious feedback, but these are capable people—technical problems or not, they still completely bowl over the audience (all ten of ’em).
    While I’m by now accustomed to the general apathy that greets Triple Thick, I’m surprised by the very cool reaction that New Frustrations get tonight. Last time I saw them, they drew a hot and (deservedly) appreciative crowd. Strange as it sounds, this revved up power pop the NF spew out is very serious business. They work hard to make it sound as breezy and affable as it does! I confess that I’m still confounded by their dubious Who cover (“Substitute”), which doesn’t fit them well. But that’s nothing compared with the deviltry they’ve got up their collective sleeve—they audaciously close the set with a cover of Paul McCartney & Wings’ godawful hit “Jet”! Jaws have hit the floor throughout the room. When the Dickies handle a cover, they either soup-up a wacky selection (Banana Splits theme) or trash some absolutely hideous composition (“Nights In White Satin”). This, however, is something different. Kudos to New Frustrations! It is the most singularly galling musical moment of 2008!
    The problem with writing about the same bands all the time is that I eventually hit a creative wall. The first time, I simply describe them. The second time, I describe them with a better perspective. After that, I laud them… then extol their myriad virtues, which the uncomprehending public are missing… then I write diatribes on the bands’ behalf and insult the local music scenesters. From there, I can either continue with that schtick or go back to square one and start over. I can’t just write, “Wow, man—they are so awesome!” and leave it at that. I wouldn’t be doing my job. So here I am writing about the Andrea Gillis Band again. What’s left to be said? Wow, man—they are so awesome! Also the set is way too short at forty minutes. We expect three-hour marathons from AGB.                         (Frank Strom)

    BANG CAMARO
    Lollapalooza, Grant Park, Chicago, IL
    8/1/08
    Lollapalooza has always been about bombastic grandstanding, but it’s only gotten bigger since its reinvention as a three-day Chicago based festival in 2005. So how do they decide to kick off what many have come to call the most kick ass Lolla in recent years? Hair metal. Shitty wannabe hair metal at that.
    Organizers may mean to draw a few ironic laughs and smiles out of booking Bang Camaro as the opening band of the 2008 festival, and by that measure they’ve succeeded. But having seen these guys before, I already know better than to expect much else. Sure, when the band’s 20 or so lead singers storm the stage, there is a momentary rush of excitement that comes from such a what-the-fuck moment. But it all quickly subsides when I realize I’m left to sit through roughly a half hour’s worth of schticky Warrant and Ratt inspired pseudo metal. I’m actually getting bored as I write this   (Ryan Bray)

    FACES ON FILM
    The Middle East, Cambridge, MA
    7/9/08
    When you’re a local band no one knows, having a gimmick helps make a good first impression—which is just what Faces on Film pulls out to kick off their set opening for Bon Savants.  As the crowd grows antsy wondering why the stage is still empty, a faint acoustic guitar begins to chime through the room.  As people quiet and look around, they find lead singer Mike Flore, having made his way into the middle of the packed floor, strumming his guitar to begin “Natalie’s Numbers.”  As he pushes his way forward to the stage, the show was just beginning, but the impression was made.
    With a full band behind him, organ shimmers and drum thumps propel songs that often have only one chord and no discernable verse-chorus structure, but stay bouncy enough to stay interesting.  Like a more sincere Decemberists, he sings rogue ballads that could be from this century or any other, and the suspenders and newsboy hats the band wears complete the image.  The group is tight and focused; no one fights for air time or soloing showcases, content instead to create swirling backdrops for Flore’s melodies.  As his voice soars over the crowd, these indie kids prove they’re more than a gimmick.   (Ray Padgett)

    THE NEW COLLISIONS
    T.T. the Bear’s, Cambridge, MA
    7/21/08
    The in going crowd is promising and lively as I approach the entrance of T.T.’s on a Sunday evening around 9:30. To my surprise, there is hardly a soul standing around the bar as forty-or-so fans are front-and-center by the stage in this rather small room, patiently awaiting the next band. During the moments it has taken to order my drink, an additional 10 to 12 fans walk in and scatter about the venue. Just minutes after 10:00, the next band takes to the stage and introduces themselves as the New Collisions. Female-fronted, the band kicks off with “Losing Ground” and seamlessly begins “Ones to Wander.” Vocalist Sarah Guild, whose voice is a cross between Deborah Harry and Kim Gordon, rocks hard with husband Scott on guitars and their bassist named Alex, who blends perfectly with Mike and his tonitruous drumming. The room cheers along during “Underground” and “Sharp Citizen” and is rewarded with the quartet’s  rendition of Pat Benatar’s “Love is a Battlefield.” They wrap it up with “Names” and forty-five minutes later, take to the floor to receive some well-earned handshakes and high-fives from satisfies listeners.   (Rob Watts)

    HARRY & THE POTTERS, MATH THE BAND
    Middle East Downstairs, Cambridge, MA
    6/25/08
    Shows that have a unifying concept beyond just an assortment of bands are usually worth checking out, and this show has a theme better than most: summer camp.  For what was billed as the Unlimited Enthusiasm Expo musicians wear pigtails and headbands, costumed lizards and lobsters roam the floor between acts, and fruit punch flows endlessly. Families run around after their young children while the thirty-somethings chill by the bar; a true all-ages show.
    The bands fit the theme perfectly, none traditionally “good,” but all with enough energy for even the cynical bar crowd to have some guilt-free fun.  Brooklyn three-piece Uncle Monsterface kicks things off with Popeye shirts, Madonna covers, and a sock puppet show to accompany their frenetic A.D.D. pop.  The synthesizer showdown continues with Providence’s Math the Band.  Coming onstage to a choreographed dance routine, they bounce around as much as they actually play, jumping and parading about while a MacBook does most of the musical legwork.  Lasting about a minute and a half each, the songs end before the audience can get sick of them, though a rave-bop “Home on the Range” sing-along keeps the hyper crowd going for a little longer.
    It’d be nice to say that local heroes Harry and the Potters are more than a novelty act, but they seem content there.  Though I consider songs about Ginny Weasley and Albus Dumbledore funny but stupid, I am in the minority.  Most of the crowd seems to know all their lyrics, taking the group quite seriously.  Luckily the band itself doesn’t make the same mistake.  Dressed as two Harry Potters, the group rocks broomstick-shaped guitars backed by a werewolf drummer, bouncing around in their vests and glasses for such classics as “Voldemort Can’t Stop the Rock.” Like the Sex Pistols via Hanson, the songs are absurdly danceable for a crowd crazy with enthusiasm.  By not taking themselves too seriously, the band compensates for lack of talent with abundance of energy.  An indulgent night-out for anyone sick of “respectable” music.    (Ray Padgett)

    BLACK MOSSETTES, THE SOUR CANDY ORCHESTRA
    Abbey Lounge, Somerville, MA
    8/9/08
    While arriving late may be the height of fashion, every now and again the early birds are rewarded. Case in point: the Sour Candy Orchestra playing the pub stage! No, I’ve never heard of them, but like all Noise writers, I’m psychically linked to the Internet, so let’s check their myspace page. Hmmmmm. Says here they’re Ian Schwartz leading an all-girl band. Obviously inaccurate—the guitar player’s a dude. Regardless, there are a whole lotta instruments in play—guitar, cello, trumpet, flute, and clarinet! The songs are great—they mix pop with classical and even some vocals in español. Some of the tunes are sad, some quite funny, and all of them pretty. One even sounds like a Muppet song, with singer Beth Goodman doing a more than reasonable Frank Oz impression! If you get the opportunity, don’t miss ’em—they’re charming as hell.
    After a nearly year-long hiatus, Black Mossettes are at last back in action. And I do mean action. As before, singer Rockin’ Ronnie is a godlike force with powerhouse voice, bassist Andy Mossette acts as band rooting section, and the rest of the guys more than keep up with them. They’ve picked up exactly where they left off, playing a very eclectic mix of soul, disco, R&B, new wave and more—the only new element is the addition of a second guitar, and that’s working out fine. Actually, the serious debate is whether they sound as good as they did last year…or better. While mulling that over, I’m struck by another mystery: what can Black Mossettes do to find an audience? They are absolutely one of the very notable bands in town, but no one has figured that out yet…   (Frank Strom)

    FOREST HENDERSON, PALACIOS, ITTHEVERB, THE SPOTLIGHT CRISIS
    Middle East Upstairs, Cambridge, MA
    6/18/08
    The twenty or so people at tonight’s Darfur benefit concert probably didn’t raise enough money to do much for the troubled region.  Heightened awareness doesn’t seem on the agenda either, since no one’s speaking more than two or three words about the crisis.  But when the line up consists mostly of area high school bands, not much more can be expected, and though the benefit aspect seems largely ignored, awareness of local talent is running high.
    Opening with the Inspector Gadget theme song helps the Spotlight Crisis make that ever-important first impression, but their own tunes keep the crowd’s attention without needing the novelty.  Though they betray their age, nervous and unsure on a stage larger than their parents’ basement, their brand of psychedelic metal shows promise that with a little more practice and confidence could evolve.  Though the mix is off, one too many guitars cluttering everything up, close listening reveals tight melodies amidst all the thrashing and headbanging.  Clearly the most talented musician of the bunch, the lead guitarist’s thin cascading lines recall Black Sabbath, so it was a shame they’re so hard to hear over the enthusiastic strumming of the two rhythm players.  They finally come into their own on a Coheed and Cambria cover, forced to tackle a song that requires delicacy and precision amidst the noise.
    On first sight, it would be easy to compare ITtheVerb to fellow two-piece groups the White Stripes and Black Keys.  However, this guitar-and-drum duo owes little to those bluesy sounds, taking far more inspiration from ’80s pop.  Displaying talent far beyond their age, the off-beat jangly guitar riffs duel with furious improvisational drumming for air time.  The item missing in that equation: vocals.  Taking minimalist to the next level, the group performs tight instrumental suites that jerk and swing in turns, the boys seeming far more comfortable playing together than their eight months experience would indicate.  Spastic and erratic, the guitarist breaks three strings over the course of the thirty-minute set, but his constant instrument-changing only provides an opportunity for the drummer to bust out wild solos, little songs in themselves, to cover the downtime.  With fellow instrumental pioneers Explosions in the Sky making blog waves, it could be IT’s turn soon.
    An assortment of unheard-of high school bands is bound to be hit or miss, and following IT’s hit comes the big miss of Palacios.  Punk at its most generic, the singer screams and growls his way from one loud banger to the next, with nothing to distinguish between songs besides the level of my headache.  Though covers of better-known punk tunes appease a crowd itching to mosh, the group seems largely unable to play their instruments.  Though admittedly that is sometimes the appeal of punk—see the Sex Pistols—in this case volume does not make up for lack of talent.
    By the time the decidedly not-in-high-school Forest Henderson comes on for the headlining set, the floor is all but deserted.  Apparently unfazed, the band’s set shows the advantage their maturity gives them over the earlier groups, playing as a tight unit comfortable enough to tease and challenge each other without losing focus.  Playing southern rock in the tradition of Lynyrd Skynyrd and the Drive-By Truckers, the band wears their influences on their sleeves, copping Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man” guitar riff for a song titled “Tom Petty.”  They’re clear on where they came from, but the music avoids being labeled derivative.  High-energy and jumping, Billy Hubbard’s soulful voice croons and yelps through big choruses built for singing and fist-pumping along.  Though heavy on guitar solos, the instrumental forays are never indulgent, the sprawling band serving the tunes even at their most jammy.  “We appeal to the over forty crowd,” Hubbard sings as the empty room underscores the point, but the high school upstarts should have stuck around to learn a thing or two.   (Ray Padgett)

    THEA HOPKINS, JUD CASWELL, ALASTAIR MOOCK, SUSAN LEVINE
    Passim, Cambridge, MA
    8/10/08
    I’ve been more interested in the folk side of rock lately, so I head over to Passim, Cambridge’s iconic folk club that’s been around since 1958. I walk in and the show is in progress. Four musicians (two of each gender) are on stage, each sitting with their acoustic guitar. Alastair Moock on far right sits lower than the rest, who are up on stools, has a gruff Tom Waitts-ey voice and sings about sewing up his mouth because it always gets him in trouble. His interesting personality makes him very likable. After Alastair’s one song the floor is handed to Thea Hopkins. She places a capo on the seventh fret and leads us through the country-twinged “Medicine Line” from her latest CD Chickasaw. She possesses a strong yet vulnerable character in her voice and hits me with piercing but sweet eyes. Then Jud Caswell from Brunswick, Maine, with his boyish face and Sox cap, talks and sings about how moving surveyor’s marks is the best way to screw up what they’re planning to build, when what they’re building is unwanted. Susan Levine is next in line to finish the first round of songs. Her parents are celebrating their 45th anniversary and she proceeds to play a song about gratitude. Her nasally voice distracts me from her song presentation. A repeating theme in all four’s banter is that they’ve each been through songwriting contests and basically met each other at these events. They continue their round robin performance where we learn that Alastair is currently putting together a kid’s CD—his masculine vocal approach doesn’t lend itself to this genre—but he’s a new dad and that’s where his music is taking him. Okay—“Cow Says Moo” is a fun sing-along. Thea shares her experience of getting a phone call from the tall bald guy who stand in the middle (that’s how he introduced himself) of Peter Paul & Mary. He called to ask permission to record her potent song, “Jesus on the Line.” Jud steps up with “the Insurance Plan” a wonderful take on marriage and later lashes us with a song for his mom (who loved a political writer from Texas—Molly Ivins)—“Man Behind the Bushs”—and ups the anti with tonight’s songs. Susan adds a touching song about a boy with autism. Overall the round robin approach to performance is excellent in that it offers variety—and it works great when all four artist are talented songwriters.   (T Max)

    THE CRASH SOCIETY
    Kc’s Tap/Cat’s, Pawtucket, RI
    8/1/08
    Supported tonight by Boston’s the Luxury, the Crash Society comes on with a quick guitar burst that fades into feedback, as the bass and seductive vocals enter. “You and Your X” tempts me to piss caution to the wind with the animalistic line, “you really are a dirty girl.” It’s got a retro Bowie-esque swagger with an immediate hook laden sensibility driven hard by the rhythm section. Other songs feature soundscapes of analog machine noise, interwoven rhythms, tasteful guitar, and strong choruses, while questioning your purpose. It’s obvious that this band is not the flavor of the month or a one trick pony.
    The Crash Society is not afraid to let their ’70s, ’80s and ’90s influence shine through like the Ranconteurs, Wolfmother, and others of this genre of retro-flavoured energetic rock. With a charismatic front person and a band focused on good songwriting, let’s hope that their influence will be broad enough to keep this new wave in motion.  (DJ Matthew Griffin)

    ALOUD, THE LIGHTS OUT, BRIAN McGEE & THE HOLLOW SPEED
    Church, Boston, MA
    6/27/08
    For Brian McGee & the Hollow Speed, the crowd in Church is grouped in the back of the room by the bar.  The area directly in front of the stage is empty.  The band consists of Brian on lead vocals and acoustic guitar accompanied by a fiddle and drums.  The band plays a mixed set including elements of rockabilly, folk, and punk.  Brian’s distorted acoustic guitar, played through the dirty sound of his Fender amp, allows this group to be more versatile than one might expect.  The band is tight, and McGee’s baritone does fit nicely with the arrangements.  Lacking their regular bass player, however, the group does not achieve as high an energy level as they seem to be capable of.  Nevertheless, the trio achieves some great dynamic changes, keeping the attention of the few who are watching the band.
    By the time the Lights Out start to play (their CD release party), the crowd has made the migration from the bar to the area in front of the stage. The band gives away free copies of their new EP ¡Heist!  They’ve got great energy as they tear through their songs in rapid fire.  The rhythm section is tight, and the guitar and vocal hooks are catchy.  As I check out their merch stand, I notice their large three-ring binder, full of press clippings about the group.  I could go on and on about these guys, but since, evidently, they’ve already been well covered, I’ll just recommend Googling them.
    Aloud starts at about midnight.  The crowd has thinned, but they play a strong set nonetheless.  They open up with “Fan the Fury,” the catchy title track off their latest release.  Henry Beguiristain and Jen de la Osa, co-lead singers, guitarists, and keyboard players, share an interesting dynamic.  At times, they sing together in super-tight harmony that leaves little to be desired.  When Henry takes the keys midway through the set, Aloud transitions from their regular indie/mod-rock sound to a Jefferson Airplane feel, showcasing the vocals of Jen, whose voice is comparable at times to Joan Jett and Ann Wilson.  The energy builds steadily until the end of the show.  Although the band is extremely tight, there seems at times to be a disconnect between Henry and Jen and their rhythm section, who seem less passionate and energized.  Overall, though, a great performance.  (Andrew Leader)

    LANNEN FALL, ROGUE HEROES, DON’T SAY BINGO, BANK CLOTHING, ALOUD, TRUE2LIFE MUSIC
    Rock the Runway Fashion Show

    Middle East Downstairs, Cambridge, MA
    6/12/08
    I love when bands come up with a new take on putting together a concert.  While rock and fashion have been closely tied since day one; the mod look inspired by the Beatles, the baggy pants of Rappers MC Hammer and Vanilla Ice of the ’80s, even the flannel look made it big thanks to Grunge bands like Nirvana and Pearl Jam, it’s very rare that local bands team up with local fashion designers to create their own night.
    Kicking it off was a rap band called True2Life Music. Despite what seemed a late start, the guys quickly get things going and providing a level of energy that was to set the tone for the night.  The crew of True2Life has their hip hop down but seems like they could work on their promotional/marketing aspect. While they have a great performance, they draw almost nobody to come see it. In a room as big as the Middle East Downstairs, that’s a big rock and roll faux pas.
    Next up is Aloud. I’ve seen this band before and been very impressed. Tonight is no exception with lots of catchy tunes, poppy hooks and songs that kick ass. Overall, they’re a great band, unfortunately the crowd seems a little standoffish. Many are still hovering by the bar, distracted by the Celtics finals playoff game that is showing. It’s too bad as Aloud is on fire tonight. Swapping lead guitar licks and trading off vocals, Jen de la Osa and Henry Beguiristain, prove that the only thing better than one great frontman, is two great frontmen.
    Meanwhile, between the craziness of Aloud’s rock and roll show, the models from Bank Clothing are struting their stuff. The clothes, designed by college students/indie rock fashionistas Nani Stoick and Sophia Sunwoo, feature mostly ornate hoodies and t-shirts that possess a flashy, edgy look that is certain to win the wearer some indy rock street cred. Though, I don’t plan giving up my cowboy shirts anytime soon, I can see these clothes being a big hit in the 16-23 year old age demographic.
    It takes a while for the buzz to wear off from Aloud and the Bank Clothing show, but the models from Don’t Say Bingo have no problem creating a buzz of their own.  With Boston’s popular DJ, DJ Shyne spinning tunes and dropping beats in the background, the whole room comes alive with a groove of its own.  The clothes from Don’t Say Bingo were created mainly by NU Alum and local fashion icon, Alvin Carter and have an urban, hip hop theme. He’s designed everything from boutique hoodies to skateboards. It’s a pretty impressive collection and I start wondering maybe it is finally time for me to re-evaluate my fashion sense.
    Rogue Heroes take the stage and immediately catch the attention of the bar. The Celtics seem to have a win firmly in place and the Rogue Heroes are already celebrating.  This three piece, made up of Tom Jewitt, Jon Clancy and Kevin McDevitt, are as good a punk band as you’ll find, combining musical elements of Rancid, The Clash, Buzzcocks, Suicidal Tendencies and The Jam. To lighten the mood, a little funk and pop are thrown in here and there for good measure.  The music inspires me to go up to the prettiest girl in the bar, grab her hand and drag her out on the dance floor. It’s a great time as the band rocks out and we dance up a storm.
    Last up is Lannen Fall. Full of rock n roll and piss and vinegar, these guys do an excellent job as well of stirring up the crowd.  They are a bit indy rock, a touch emo, one part rock and roll and the other part swagger.  Overall, it makes for a delightful cocktail. Their “take no prisoners , no holds barred” approach style of rock and roll wins me over instantly.  I shuffle my way to the front of the stage to get a better view. It’s a hell of a show and a one of a kind night in Boston.   (Kier Byrnes)

    HOT MOLASSES
    The Middle East, Cambridge, MA
    7/23/08
    Though onstage energy goes a long way live, it can’t compensate for lifeless music in getting the crowd engaged.  Cowboy bop band Hot Molasses learns that lesson the hard way as the rip-roaring good time the band seems to be having never quite translates to everyone else.  Busting out as many ten-gallon hat rock star moves as he can muster, bassist Aaron Cohen leads the power trio (plus a girl idly hitting a tambourine) through one loud country rock song after another, high-kickin’ and lip-pursin’ with every note.  However, with generic tunes, indecipherable lyrics, and a band that appears to have only recently learned to play their instruments, any attempts at audience participation fall painfully flat.  The collective level of audience inebriation would have had to be significantly higher for anyone to get much out of what sounds like a Skynyrd cover band minus the good songs.   (Ray Padgett)

    JAKE HILL & THE LAW, THE EAGLE HILL BAND
    The Plymouth Schools Out Summer Concert Series
    The Plymouth Waterfront, Plymouth, MA
    7/11/2008
    Tonight’s waterfront show put on by Brewster Productions features some lively entertainment geared to a younger fan base than usual at this venue.
    The first set belongs to the Eagle Hill Band whose lively performance entertains with a mix of up-tempo covers like Tom Petty and a few catchy originals. I guess these guys used to be the Clams Of Death but must have lost interest in the red tide this summer.
    Jake Hill & the Law follow up with a flawless set of nearly all-original songs of which any could be past or present day hits. Hill’s songwriting and performance of them is as infectious, melodic and masterful as anything that has ever come out of this area. His soprano style voice and songwriting is not unlike that of a Muswell Hillbilly era Ray Davies and his onstage antics are as cool as they are awkward. The topics of his songs range from new found love “Bird Food,” to insecure relationships “Out Of My Hands” and “Heave To” a song about dying on a sailboat! His backing band, the Law, feature Dave Robertson on bass and Rick Crowell on drums. Together the rhythm section (who also play as a unit in a number of other bands) holds down the beat and are a perfect support system for Jake’s music.  (Mark Bryant)

    BOSTON
    U.S. Cellular Pavilion, Gilford, NH
    8/2/08
    So here I am, inside the confines of the venue, sheltering myself from the rain, waiting anxiously to see that band. You know… the one that was just another band out of Boston, on the road to try and make ends meet?
    As the lights dim, hundreds of fans jump to their feet. The chord strikes, and out they come, the boys of Boston… and one girl. Strange as it is to see a female in the band, I’m still able to enjoy the tunes as Boston plays familiars such as “More Than a Feeling,” “Smokin’,” and “Longtime.” Though their energy is less than par, with the occasional off-time song, the intentions are there. Decarlo does a good job filling the shoes of the late Brad Delp.  As I close my eyes, and try to picture myself 30 years earlier, enjoying Boston in their prime, I can almost imagine I’m there. (Angela Mastrogiacomo)

    BEN PILGRIM, ALICE AUSTIN, DAVE GODOWSKY
    Middle East Upstairs, Cambridge, MA
    6/30/08
    A rootsy Americana night at the Middle East, with indie underdogs the Rosewood Thieves playing their first Boston show. Not having brought their own support, they have three local artists kick things off.
    First up was singer/songwriter Dave Godowsky, who seems to be doing everything in his power to pull off a young Bob Dylan look: acoustic guitar, neck harmonica holder, scruffy curly hair, and shy, awkward banter. The songs fit the image; though some attempts to be “deep” miss the mark, others sound great. “It ends in a coffin and it starts with a cough / The past is a debt you can never pay off” is straight out of Dylan’s “To live outside the law you must be honest” school of songwriting, and “Take a look at the world / It’s an oyster with no pearl” sounds like Tom Waits at his most pessimistic. Though his melodies are bland and energy nil, clear delivery keeps the small crowd focused on his lyrics, which proved to be enough.
    Currently living in Cambridge herself, Alice Austin didn’t have far to walk. A good thing too—the knee-high platform pumps she’s wearing can’t be comfortable. Image, though, is clearly something Austin takes seriously. Like an edgy Dolly Parton, her cascading blonde hair contrasts sharply with her miniskirt and glittery electric guitar. If the look is conflicted, the music matches. Playing country torch songs loud and fast, she touches on casual sex and road kill in her thirty-minute set, backed only by a bassist similarly attired. She shows punch, attitude, and sass, though the affected southern twang eventually grows tiresome.
    Cultivating a similar style as Godowsky, Ben Pilgrim looks more like an Urban Outfitters Dylan, complete with newsboy cap and spunky four-piece band. His songs veer from generic anti-war protests to livelier numbers like the Beatles sequel “I Want To Hold Your Hand Again.” His voice harmonizes with his female back-up singer for some catchier call-and-response numbers, but it’s the cover of Buddy Holly’s “Oh Boy” that really shakes things up. Moving closer to punk than he had before, it attacks, dark and aggressive, making lines like “You were meant for me” sound not joyful, but obsessed.  Though most in the crowd were there for the Grey’s Anatomy-promoted Thieves, had they never come on everyone would have left satisfied.   (Ray Padgett)

     

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    Death of Us All, Honey

    30. The Kin – The Kin

    The Noise Top 30 Radio Chart is based on the amount of radio airplay
    to locally released recordings. It’s compiled by RadioTony using
    playlists from WAAF, WBCN, WFNX, WMBR, WMFO, WTCC, and WZBC. If your station
    would like to add its local playlist to the chart, contact

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    1. Shadows Fall – Threads of Life

    1. Dinosaur Jr. – Beyond

    3. Polyethylene – What Goes on Inside Houses

    4. The Bags – Mount Rockmore

    5. The Luxury – This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things

    6. Cheater Pint – “Control Freak”

    7. The Everyday Visuals – Things Will Look Up

    8. The Glass Set – Something Unknown

    9. Los Wonder Twins Del Rap – Feast of Steven

    10. Don Lennon – Radical

    11. Bang Camaro – Bang Camaro

    12. Tiger Saw – Tigers on Fire

    13. The Underpainting – The Underpainting

    14. Spouse – Relocation Tactics

    15. Auto Interiors – Let’s Agree to Deceive Our Best Friends

    16. Black Fortress of Opium – Black Fortress of Opium

    17. The Charms – Strange Magic

    18. Hooray for Earth – Hooray for Earth

    19. The Vinyl Skyway – From Telegraph Hill

    20. The Appreciation Post – Brighter Sides

    21. Christians and Lions – More Songs for Dreamsleepers

    22. Girls Guns & Glory – Pretty Little Wrecking Ball

    23. Hands and Knees – Hands and Knees

    24. Mystery Tramps – Cure for the Common Misconception

    25. Stephen Brodsky’s Octave Museum – The Octave Museum

    26. Reports – Reports

    27. The Prime Movers – Back in Line

    28. The Winterpills – The Light Divides

    29. Willard Grant Conspiracy – Let it Roll

    30. Pernice Brothers – Live a Little

    The Noise Top 30 Radio Chart is based on the amount of radio airplay
    to locally released recordings. It’s compiled by RadioTony using
    playlists from WAAF, WFNX, WMBR, WMFO, WTCC, and WZBC. If your station
    would like to add its local playlist to the chart, contact

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    1. The Snowleopards
    Debut

    2. Piebald
    Accidental Gentlemen

    3. The Winterpills
    The Light Divides

    4. Bang Camaro
    Bang Camaro

    5. The Glass Set
    Something Unknown

    6. The Charms
    Strange Magic

    7. Kristin Hersh
    Learn to Sing like a Star

    8. Hooray for Earth
    Hooray for Earth

    9. Apple Betty
    Let’s Play

    10. The Blizzard of 78
    Where All Life Hangs

    11. The Larkin Brigade
    Paddy Keys for Mayor

    12. The Luxury
    This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things

    13. Emily Grogan
    At Sea

    14. Big D & The Kids Table
    Noise Complaint EP

    15. The Gobshites
    Another Round

    16. Don Lennon
    – “Gay Fun!”

    17. Medicated Kisses
    Medicated Kisses EP

    18. Pernice Brothers
    Live a Little

    19. The Prime Movers
    Back in Line

    20. The Appreciation Post
    Brighter Sides

    21. Various Artist
    Ace of Hearts: 12 Classic 45s

    22. Hanneke Cassel
    Silver

    23. Christians and Lions
    More Songs for the Dreamsleepers and the Very Awake

    24. Hot Chip
    Remixes and Rarities

    25. Monique Ortiz
    Reclining Female

    26. The Slip
    Eisenhower

    27. Frank Smith
    Red on White

    28. Barnicle
    Take Me to Your Room

    29. Girls Guns & Glory
    Pretty Little Wrecking Ball

    30. Ray Mason
    A Man and His Silvertone

    The Noise Top 30 Radio Chart is based on the amount of radio airplay
    to locally released recordings. It’s compiled by RadioTony using
    playlists from WAAF, WFNX, WMBR, WMFO, WTCC, and WZBC. If your station
    would like to add its local playlist to the chart, contact

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  • CD Reviews | The Noise

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    CDLennyLashley332LENNY LASHLEY’S GANG OF ONE
    Pirates Press Records/ Panic State Records                                                   Illuminator 
    10 tracks

    Landing somewhere musically between the raucousness of Darkbuster and the country leanings of the Piss Poor Boys, Lashley delivers his most affecting set of songs to date.  Those who have focused only on the humor while missing the pathos in his previous work will find that impossible to do here as the sense of loss, displacement, anger, and despair permeating this record is overwhelming.  When on “Happily,” the album’s high point, Lashley sings the words: “I just can’t stand to see you living happily.” They are delivered not with spite but with a matter-of-fact sadness that is so effective that you sincerely wish the song never had to be written.  Even rockers like “Hooligans” that seem fun on the surface, carry a palpable longing for a simpler time.  Lashley’s gang, which includes members of the Bouncing Souls, the Mighty Mighty Bosstones, and Slapshot, is excellent and versatile throughout.  This might be the most moving record you hear all year.       (Kevin Finn)

     

    DOUG MACDONALD BAND
    Mr. Bones
    8 tracks

    I was going to say guitarist/vocalist/songwriter Doug MacDonald has a creative knack for capturing blue collar characters and situations, but “blue collar” may be shooting too high. We’re talking about the underbelly of life—real, everyday people—real experiences, on the most basic level. Combine that with Doug and drummer Patty Short’s natural knack for musicality. Their combined musicianship matches their subjects in gritty charm—no fancy/flashy guitar or triple whipwops on the drums—it’s all real—like an excellent ’60s garage band. All the songs are fun to take in, and when the disc ends, I’m quick to hit replay. “Mr. Bones” is the coolest of the stories here—Johnny Rods (Mr. Bones) is a nasty guy who works in a meat room. Within the song, things get scary when Mr. Bones grabs Doug by the neck!  In “Complicated Girl,” Doug squeezes out his feelings of desire with a cool musical build up to the simple, but soothing, chorus of “Girl, closer to you girl.” The production by Tom Hamilton is noteworthy with well-placed hand claps, finger snaps, digital damaged repeats, early fade outs, and a woman’s automated voice starting the disc, repeating: “Honk your horn if you like what you see.” This outstanding, innovative, creative, and original disc is worth honking your horn about—all the way through the summer of 2013. Oh yeah, the tag ending of Doug’s dad crooning over a wobbly organ is touching.  This CD will be played a lot around here.                    (T Max)

     

    CHELSEA BERRY
    Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
    10 tracks

    I had a problem with this collection from the very get-go. “It Could Happen to You” is a smart (if derivitive) piece of uptempo blues, but the self-help message seems overtly personal, almost gratuituously shoehorned in, and serves to impose a somewhat strident point of view which mars any putative enjoyment. Message songs should be subtle, not preachy. Few artists have the gravitas, let alone the authority, to bludgeon listeners with didactic pronouncements from on high. Unfortunately, this trend continues with the gorgeous, but clunkily worded ballad “Lonely Being Lonely.” Sometimes it serves an artist best to look at the words to a song and ask whether its message is being expressed in the most appropriate way. There are few artists who can pull off self-pity without sounding, in some degree, themselves pitiable. In spite of these reservations, however, I find myself enraptured by the singer’s obvious melodic, as well as compositional gifts, as evidenced on songs such as “Hard Times,” “Open Arms,” and the splendiferous closing track, “Florida.”   (Francis DiMenno)

     

    ELEPHANTS
    Elephants
    13 tracks

    I wouldn’t really go as far as to call them punk, but then again, I wouldn’t not call them punk either. The gritty tone of the guitars, the flurries of Mick Jones-style guitar leads, low-fi aesthetic, and heavy-duty drum style certainly fit the bill. However, the highly melodic flow of the songs and the generally relaxed tempos coupled with the heavy nostalgia of the lyrics and the yearning petal-soft female vocals speak to something else entirely. It’s hard to pigeonhole a band that can glide so easily between the fragile elegance of a tune like “The One Thing,” with its interlocking guitar chimes and bass melodies, to the stirring cacophony and understated breadth of “Black Coffee, Young Merzbow!” Futile, really. The name “Elephants” seems to be an apt descriptor of their style: a massive sound but a sound that’s devoid of doom, gloom, and aggression. A gentle giant, this band, with catchy hooks you’ll never forget.     (Will Barry)

     

    WHAT TIME IS IT, MR. FOX?
    Little Bit of Blue
    13 tracks

    Brian King and his menagerie of musical misfits seem to cover just about every style and mood that you could possibly think of, from soul and gospel, jazz and lounge pop, to cabaret, R&B and the great American Songbook.  Brian King at once channels Al Green, Boy George, Tony Hadley, Freddie Mercury, Marc Almond, and Shirley Bassey. There are lush string arrangements, a children’s choir and a five piece backing vocal section, majestic organ swells, and even a singing saw. The production and recording is impeccable.  What Time Is It Mr. Fox? has grown by leaps and bounds from its humble beginnings, constantly adding more artists and musicians to the mix to a point where Mr. Fox is no longer just a great band but a lifestyle, and a very cinematic, larger than life one at that.  If you need an album to lift you up and feel something, anything, with a heavy heart and warm glow, there are thirteen reasons why this is that album.  I couldn’t recommend this album more highly.  (Joel Simches)

     

    SARAH BLACKER
    Precious Little Things            
    6 tracks

    I came across Sarah Blacker’s music around three years ago and, instantly, I was hooked. She has got an ever-changing style which takes the best of any number of genres and seamlessly weaves them together. The final result is a sound that always has something new to offer. Precious Little Things is an album with a lot to share, each song possessing a distinct style and structure. Sarah brings a lot of her own experiences to her songwriting, and, in listening to this album, it’s like I’m hearing different parts of her personality, each with its own story to tell. “Shiver” has a quiet, almost melancholy tone to it, telling the story of one who moves on from the dark parts of their life, while “Revelry of Heart” brings the party, delighting in the freedom to make your own choices.

    Fellow musicians Chuck Fisher (lead acoustic and electric guitars), Eran Shaysh (drums/ percussion/ harmonies), Erik White (lead electric guitars/ harmonies), and Sean Mc-Laughlin (bass), complement Sarah’s style with their own, reinforcing and strengthening the songs with their contributions. Sarah’s voice is a rich, fluid instrument all its own, which effortlessly shifts from one note to the next. This album brings to mind a packed audience at Club Passim, or an evening at a house concert, filled with friends and fans. Count me among that crowd.                  (Max Bowen)

     

    ANNALIVIA
    The Same Way Down
    9 tracks

    One listen to this record and it becomes quite clear that Annalivia’s brand of Celtic-Americana is an acquired taste—relatable to some and completely foreign to others.  For starters, consider the fiddle instrumental, “Up in Smoke” and the band’s interpretation of the classic “Turtle Dove.”  However, regardless of whichever musical “camp” you happen to align yourself with, one thing is for certain: The Same Way Down is a record deserving of repeated listens and therefore, one worth taking a chance on.  Annalivia is the embodiment of heritage pride, so steeped is the band in the history of traditional American roots music, including bluegrass, Irish, Scottish, Norwegian, and Old Time.  The charm lies in their seemingly effortless ability to fuse the aforementioned sounds of yesteryear to create something entirely new with an energy that can only be described as contagious (“Bright Sunny South”).  In a word: charming.    (Julia R. DeStefano)

     

    ERIC OTT AND NATE LEBAN           
    75 or Less Records
    Love Songs and Isolation
    6 tracks

    This is what happens when two locally acclaimed singer/songwriter types decide to record some songs and collaborate in a barn over coffee and pastries.  Both are very talented writers, infusing all kinds of influences in a low key DIY, semi lo-fi vibe but with clever instrumentation and arrangements that will remind you simultaneously of Bob Dylan, Roy Orbison, Elvis Costello, Tom Petty, Brian Wilson, Harry Nilsson, and early ’70s Eno. The songs are charming and melodic, with themes ranging from loves lost to lip-gloss.  Both play all the instruments, which include electric and acoustic guitars as well as basic piano, organ, and minimal drums and percussion. The collaboration seems easy and natural.  They compliment each other well, giving space and contributing without crowding. The tragedy is that there are only six songs.  Make more music soon!   (Joel Simches)

     

    DOCTOR X 
    Low Budget Records
    Um…Whaddup, Doc? 
    12 songs

    I suppose if T. Rex and acid rock had remained in vogue for far longer than they actually did, this style of music would be a more prominent part of our sonic heritage. As it is, I find their take on the Yardbirds and all the other usual acid-rock influences to be impeccable—”Washed Away in the Flood” is picture perfect 1967 garage punk and if you like that genre as much as I do, that can only be a good thing. Their closing track, “Misfits,” shows a softer side of the psyche equation—melodic and trippy but also gritty in the mode of late-’60s Pink Floyd and Blue Cheer acolytes. Their original High Life/reggae composition “This Life” is a surprisingly convincing genre pastiche. The bluesy reinterpretations of songs like “Oh! Darling,” and the strangely uptempo rendition of “That’s Entertainment” (with changed lyrics, no less) are aesthetic missteps. But the best tracks are highly recommended.   (Francis DiMenno)

     

    PRETTY & NICE    
    Rory Records
    Golden Rules for Golden People
    11 tracks

    Well, so much for my usual evening routine of scotch and self-pity. At the moment, I’ve got the sprightly sounds of Pretty & Nice’s latest release practically dervishing from my speakers–an impressive work to say the least. Each track shimmers with giddy synth and jubilant guitars, sugar-high tempos, and octave-jumping vocals. Their attention-deficit arrangements are absolutely astounding with their sudden rhapsodic shifts in rhythm and feel, and adventurous modulations. Yet, even with the intimidating technical prowess of their compositions and the sometimes-disorientating musical shifts, the tunes are still accessible. The melodies and hooks are still so damn catchy they’re practically contagious, so candied I think I got a couple cavities after the first listen. Think Queen, think ELO, think Yes, think the Zombies and you’ve got a good idea of the scope of this band’s sound, and I’m not exaggerating when I say Pretty & Nice could hold their own with the likes of them.   (Will Barry)

     


    GIRL ON TOP 

    Top Girl Records
    Live for It
    10 tracks

    This record sounds like something you would hear on the Sunset Strip just as Guns N’ Roses was knocking the stupid out of hair metal but before grunge had sent sleazy rock ’n’ roll to the sideline.  Girl on Top plays catchy hard rock with an edge and, for the most part, the band’s infectious energy makes this a fun listen.  Karen DeBiasse has a clear and clean voice but one that has more than a hint of danger to it, and the instrumentation, particularly Peter Zicko’s bass playing, is solid throughout.  The one caveat is that certain parts of the record are best enjoyed by turning off your brain and focusing on the feet and hips. Then again, as rock in many places has become over brainy, is that such a bad thing?        (Kevin Finn)

     

    BIG OL’ DIRTY BUCKET
    Big Ol’ Dirty Bucket
    11 songs

    Call me a sentimentalist, but I can’t help regarding this project–which in places approaches the status of a blaxploitation soundtrack—with great fondness. Okay, they throw in some rap to appease the kiddies—particularly on the opening track, “Photonic People,”—and they toss in some calculated vulgarity to spice up “Chuck Norris.” But many of these songs are picture-perfect funk that exploits and gloriously revels in all the genre’s most vital tropes– bizarre, cultic invented words; irresistable rhythmic impetus; goofy wordplay; polyrhythmic foo-fo-raw; interpolated nonsense sounds; wild, one-off guitar solos, and kitchen-sink aesthetics. It’s not pure funk all the way through, but by mixing it up with some genre change-ups like soul and Latin music, the funk shines through loud and clear, most notably on closing track “All Night Long and Once in the Morning.” Highly recommended.          (Francis DiMenno)

     

    1476  
    Seraphim House
    Wildwood
    11 tracks
    The Nightside
    4 tracks

    1476 combines elements of classic English folk, ’70s prog, metal, and goth to create a dark, cinematic, and mystical image of the occult aspects of northern New England of days passed.  At times, the band can be heavy and anthemic, like a good Alice Cooper, or Blue Oyster Cult record but without any of the irony.  At other times, this could be the soundtrack to a vampire film set in the 15th century but with sparkling pale meade guzzling goths riding white horses, with swords and chainmail amour and everything.  This is Rennaissance Faire fare with some major attitude and lush production values. Both these releases came out together at the end of last year as companion pieces.  Wildwood is more of a high concept art album with a cohesive narrative and cinematic flow, whereas The Nightside is a collection of slightly poppier songs, the type of which could have easily found itself on a The The or Lloyd Cole album.  The latter EP seems to flow better as a collection of songs that can stand on their own and as such is a more satisfying listen.  Wildwood could have benefited from some editing.  Listen to both by candlelight with some homemade incense, while wearing a leather mask.    (Joel Simches)

     

    IAN JAMES
    Grand Delusions
    10 tracks

    It would be fitting to describe Lowell native Ian James as an anti-conformist in that he is going to do what he wants to do, however exotic to listeners, a characteristic that is hugely commendable.  The self-proclaimed “bastard child of Jimi Hendrix and Boba Fett” is experimentation personified, and Grand Delusions finds James coming out from behind the curtain of his instrumental work to further push the musical boundaries while challenging our preconceived notions, one track at a time. It is here that the one-man-band and producer showcases a voice and guitar full of personality and grit amid a gripping, raw arrangement of sound and effect that is at times reminiscent of Franz Ferdinand and Interpol (“In Your Spell,” “Alone and Grey,” “Living High and Running Fast”).  This is a record that screams confidence, and it is refreshing to witness an artist creating purely for the sake of creating.                 (Julia R. DeStefano)

     

    THE TAXIDERMISTS
    Pool Party 
    18 tracks

    If Sonic Youth recorded on crappy equipment, would they sound bril-liant? Maybe. If the Taxidermists recorded on decent equipment, would they sound brilliant? The jury is out.

    Pool Party is a mish-mash of lo-fi tracks that bounce between the dissonant art-noise of Sonic Youth, the boom-box-recorded bashing of early Sebadoh, and the atonal punk noise of Flipper. Each of these reference points holds the possibility of brilliance along with the opportunity for complete failure. Track for track, Pool Party falls 50/50 in each category.         (George Dow)

     

    JAMES STRAIGHT & THE WIDE STANCE
    No Loitering
    12 tracks

    This is competent of its sort—in the school of punk and glam (less so psychobilly). I suppose it’s unreasonable to expect anything radically new and different from a band which practically bills itself as a revivalist project. What else can you say? This sort of act was old when the Damned were new and much water has flowed under the bridge since those hallowed days. Furthermore, the affect seems flat—none of the songs—with the possible exception of “Crazy for You”—manage to evoke a sense of genuine danger or even excitement—so they come across to me as little more than rote, paint-by-the-numbers genre exercises.     (Francis DiMenno)

     

    3 PARTS DEAD
    3 Parts Dead 
    5 tracks

    The 5 tracks that comprise 3 Parts Dead’s debut EP pick up exactly where these former members of Pretty Little Suicide left off. They deliver a heavier, groovier take on the late-’80s hair metal classics of Mötley Crüe and Guns ‘N Roses.

    Over the course of 5 tracks, 3 Parts Dead hit up all the genre tropes—party-’til-you-drop anthem in “Party Never Ends,” hold-up-your-lighter power ballet in “So Long Girl,” and vaguely mysoginistic-hot-girl-worship in “Tattoo’d Toy.”

    If hair metal is your thing, 3 Parts Dead is right up your alley.      (George Dow)

     

    CONOR MULROY
    FoxFire
    16 tracks

    As this reviewer learned while listening to FoxFire, one must be in the right mindset in order to fully appreciate it.  Even so, right around “Movement 1, Part 4,” it becomes quite clear that this style is not to everybody’s liking and rightfully so, as the blend of bluegrass, classical, and progressive jazz elements has a tendency to become repetitive as the record progresses.  However, if you can manage to quiet your mind long enough to make it through to “Movement 2, Part 8,” the closing track, you will undoubtedly come to the realization that Mulroy is immensely talented and commend him for creating such a cohesive piece of work—even if it is an acquired taste and you find yourself getting lost amongst the song titles of “Movement 1, Part __” and “Movement 2, Part __.”  On the whole, FoxFire is promising, with a vibrancy that makes it best suited for inclusion in a television or film soundtrack.  (Julia R. DeStefano)

     

    TIK TOK
    Draw Some Monsters
    8 tracks

    Thick with dredging bass and slick greaser guitar lines, bolstered with the clang of piano and dirge of drums, Tik Tok foster a sound that’s dark, dismal, and completely irresistible. The tunes are prone to manic-depressive shifts in tone and tempo, as well as theatrical build-ups and breakdowns. The feisty female vocals, too, are intriguingly unpredictable, cooing like a dove one minute, then spitting hellfire the next. Even the production impresses, incorporating subtle studio magic, like the crackle of vinyl or the ominous ticking of a clock. With its bawdy burlesques, klezmer-tinged waltzes, and soul-crushing ballads, Tik Tok’s Draw Some Monsters sculpts a diverse and dark-toned cabaret that’s dripping with pathos. Their Sturm und Drang style cannot be ignored.     (Will Barry)

     

    THE DEMOGRAPHIC   
    Listen Close
    8 tracks

    The newest release from Northampton, Massachusetts’, guitar and bass duo, the Demographic, is a noisy conglomeration garage-rock and Neil Young-esque guitar work mixed with proto-grunge and alt-country. Yes—an odd mix but delivered perfectly.

    Maybe most interesting are Tom Pappalardo’s vocals. At one moment, on the most rocking tracks like “Building Buildings” and “Ghosts of the Lower Barometrics,” he sounds like the bastard child of Kiss’ Ace Frehley and Naked Raygun’s Jeff Pezzati. In the next moment, when they take the volume down, “Letter” and “When I’m Dead,” he’s a dead ringer for the Drive-by Truckers’ Mike Cooley.      (George Dow)

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  • The Noise Archives: Live Reviews, Issue #221

    Bleu (Kim Genereux)BLEU
    The Norva
    Norfolk, VA
    4/4/02

    I’m looking around the club as Bleu begins his E-band set. There seems to be a mostly older crowd in attendance, and they’re confused. Who is this guy with the headphones? But when Boston’s favorite catchy songwriter starts playing the beats on his handy CD player, confusion turns to joy. Seriously. I feel like I’m in church during “Searchin’ For the Satellites,” as the lady in front of me waves her hand in the air in true hallelujah fashion – for the whole song. “That’s Life” gets some hollers from the back of the club, and I swear I hear some muffled sobs behind me as Bleu belts “Somethin’s Gotta Give.” His great tunes and goofy banter onstage are an instant hit in his home state. Remember me saying the crowd looks older? For some bizarre reason, after the set, Bleu is surrounded by young, female autograph seekers. Those sideburns must be beacons for pretty young things. (Meri Birdwell)

    ANNETTE FARRINGTON, COUNTESS, SPARKOLA
    608
    4/5/02

    Sparkola are the “stunt doubles” for Countess members Adam Buhler, Steve Powers, and Jason Sakos. In Sparkola, Adam and Steve switch up their Countess bass and guitar roles, and Steve sings lead. The trio delivers a set of slightly funky, slightly jazzy rock that draws people forward from the bar area. These guys are strong musicians, and they put on an energetic show. Though I like the songs, I can’t help wanting a bit more funk, more punch in the bass, and some crowd-pleasing hooks in the songs. They almost win me over, but I want to hear more.

    Countess takes the stage like a dog that grabs you in its teeth and shakes you mercilessly for 40 minutes. The sound is loud, angry, and wholly cathartic, relenting only for “Pony Up,” apropos for the vacuous parody of a pop song that it is. The stage is in chaos, crawling with camcorder-wielding men, rubber outfitted nurses, a sleazy industry exec glued to his cell phone, and two perfectly syncopated blonde-wigged dancers in skimpy pink leather. The audience is riveted, and some lucky adorers are rewarded with licks of sugar frosting from Cynthia von Buhler’s fingers. As “Alicia,” Cynthia is a stalking, writhing, screaming priestess, the rock temple’s pythia channeling the god of music-industry disgust. Bass player Izzy Maxwell is an angelic dervish in boxer shorts and converse high-tops who, with “TOFU” written on his chest in black marker, turned me vegetarian on the spot. This is Countess’ last Boston show, and they go out in style.

    I wouldn’t want to play in the band that headlines when Countess is one of the opening acts. In fact, I would say that Annette Farrington is the closing act for Countess. During an excruciatingly long soundcheck about 2/3 of the audience leaves the club. Then Annette’s band plays a monotonous set that puts me in mind of what Tanya Donnelly might sound like if backed by The Banshees. What’s left of the audience talks through the whole thing. The highlight of the act is the guitar player’s monk outfit from the Holy Order of St. Calvin Klein, revealing glimpses of his black boxer briefs through a side slit. Well, that and the synth guy’s pleather T-shirt. We all want to know where to get one of those. (Laura Slapikoff)

    CHANDLER TRAVIS PHILHARMONIC
    Midway Cafe
    3/28/02

    A friend comments, “I’ll never forgive him for stabbing Sharon Tate,” referring to the bearded, pajama-clad bandleader. Hey, I like the guy: he’s fun to watch, and he offsets the ponderous audience of thirty-somethings, doing their best Overly-Ernest Goes to Camp routine and frequently blocking my view. I’d start with the elbow jabs, but some of them look like lawyers.

    An occasional aural Communism notwithstanding, when the C.T.P. is successfully integrated, the hinted genres-dixieland, klezmer accents, brass chorales-twist and mate over solid songwriting, dopey lyrics lightening the anthems that the group skates dangerously close to performing. It’s a driven, locomotive power that lifts me after the atonal ruts, the gestalt of a compassionate sadist: a short dose of tympanic pain, soon relieved by a honking, “give-me-the-willies” kind of song that I wish I’d written. Next time I’ll get drunk, so I won’t feel embarrassed about hoisting my lighted Bic. (The Duke of Atterbury)

    KARATE, THE IVORY COAST, FIN FANG FOOM
    The Middle East
    3/9/02

    The worst part about going to a show by myself is that I invariably run into the another guy who’s there by himself, who wants to tell me all about his latest surgery. Tonight is no exception. This is why beer is called social lubricant by so many; without the innovations of Capt. Pabst, I could very well seize-this guy by the throat, that is.

    The only thing more intolerable than my new best friend is the flaccid, uninspired set by the Ivory Coast. They’ve got barely enough onstage energy to lightly toast a slice of bread, and their original material sounds like bad Sebadoh covers. I can’t take my eyes off the lead singer’s wrinkled shirt-I guess nobody told him he was playing a show tonight.

    Karate then take the stage, exuding a cool confidence, and rightly so; clearly most of the audience is here for them. Almost all of their set is new material, which is jazz-tinged, to say the least. Unfortunately their confidence at times gives way to too-cool smugness, and by the sixth guitar solo, I’m ready to pack it in. However, before I can squeeze out of the crowd, Karate launches into what I later find out is 1/2 of their new 2-song EP, which might not sound like Karate, but it’s still good music. (Jesse Thomas)

    THE ROLLING TONGUES REVIEW, JEDEDIAH PARISH & THE MOTHER TONGUES, CHARLIE CHESTERMAN
    The Lizard Lounge
    4/10/02

    At 9:30, it looks like a slow night at the Lizard. Due to a babysitting SNAFU, Chaz & the Motorbikes didn’t make it to the club, but Charlie Chesterman steps up in the spirit of going on with the show, and performs a solo set of decently enjoyable folk songs. Flipping through his journal to pick out songs to play, he admits that he hates listening to guys with acoustic guitars, and hates listening to guys with crib notes even more. He gives the song “New Bluebird Tattoo” a folk-punk treatment, and finishes his set to a full house and hearty applause.

    Jed Parish & the Mother Tongues come out and play an in-your-face set of songs from both of Jed’s solo albums. On CD the songs are thoughtful and spacious, but Jed growls them out loud and hard live. It’s Jed’s birthday, and someone hands around bottles of bubble soap. The audience blows bubbles, giving the club a nouveau Lawrence Welk Show ambience. With Lori Perkins (Seks Bomba) on backing vocals, the trio delivers a gorgeous rendition of The Velvet Underground’s “Candy Says.” During the Mother Tongues’ “smoke break,” Jed plays a Ray Charles cover, accompanying himself on the keyboard. When the break ends, Lori comes out with a “sexual” birthday cake built from Twinkies and mini-donuts covered with candles, and we all sing “Happy Birthday.” The second half of the set includes a powerful “Monkey Blues” and a slinky version of the whimsical “Clawfoot Tub.” Jed IS the Silver Gorilla. Go see him.

    The real treat of the evening is a closing set of Rolling Stones covers from The Rolling Tongues Review. The Review consists of Jed and his Figgs/ Gravel Pit compañeros in a variety of combinations, flawlessly performing Stones gems from the early ’60s through the late ’70s. I’m a huge fan of the Stones from this period, and I’m going out on a limb to say that these guys do a better job with these songs than the Stones themselves do anymore. Mike Gent is the spitting image of a young Bill Wyman, lending an eerie authenticity to the experience, and he plays a mean bottleneck slide guitar. Throughout the set, the musicians change instruments frequently which adds to the fun, and the audience sings and chair-dances to every song. It’s Jed’ s birthday, but The Rolling Tongues Review is an unexpected gift to everyone who had the sense to show up tonight. (Laura Slapikoff)

    THE JUMBLIES, HIP TANAKA, MISSION CREEP
    Midway Cafe
    3/22/02

    Mission Creep are a duo-one guy on drums, one on vocals and hardware store. Okay, guitar, keys, computer, hand-held thingamabobs and a couple milk crates of other stuff I don’t recognize. And they sound great. It’s kinda like if electronica, prog, improv, techno/ house/ trance/ dub/ blah-blah, radio static, found sounds, home noodling and sheer luck all fell under one heading. Actually, I guess they do now. Gallantly straddlin’ that fuzzy-ass line between dance music and shit you can actually listen to, it’s highly engaging cut-n-paste-with-a-beat type stuff that thousands of lesser acts have failed miserably at. And the chickadees love it. Maybe the key is that they don’t kill you with samples, volume or forced aggro nonsense in an attempt to sound hip. It’s just…enjoyable. Think about this for a sec. Enjoyable music. How’s that for a fuckin’ concept?

    You might as well forget everything I ever said about Hip Tanaka and how they keep reinventing themselves, ’cause the dirty fuckers went and did it again. Since the only predictable thing about ’em is their unpredictability, it makes writing about it pointless-whatever I tell ya ain’t gonna happen next time out. This time, let’s see, they lost the keys and lead vocalist, added a guitar, kidnapped the late Innerpink’s drummer, wrote a bunch more twisted, fabulous shit, completely retooled some of the old stuff, and found some new funny hats. My favorite thing about ’em is the beer money I save, because they always make me feel punch-drunk after about two songs. Without rehashing my whole spiel, let’s just say that A) anyone else trying to do the insidious/ precise/ shambles thing should just hang it up now, and B) I spend way too much time wondering what these mad scientists are up to in the lab every night. They’re a flame, you’re a moth, and that’s the beauty of nature.

    During The Jumblies’ set, someone actually turns to me and says, “I could jerk off to this.” I assure you this doesn’t come from any bullshit navel-bearing antics or “Do Me Baby” lyrics, ’cause there aren’t any. Rather (and I completely agree), he means that you can get so completely sideswiped by the beauty of this music, that your entire memory can go blank for a while. I rarely use terms like life-affirming, but there’s peace and strength and reassurance and womb-like warmth and safety and all that cosmic crap here, and with all that comes, yeah, a major orgasmic floaty feeling that does scream for release. Which isn’t to say they don’t have some icier tunes or can’t rock out, but the overall effect is easily as good as any drug or blowjob I’ve personally had. And since I can’t do drugs and don’t get blowjobs anymore, I’m pretty fuckin’ grateful for this band. (Joe Coughlin)

    PORNBELT, THE TAKERS, GRAND ISLAND, MUTANT MESSAGE
    Midway Cafe
    4/12/02

    In defiance of this magazine’s strict word counts, I offer the following in hopes that this policy will change.

    Mutant Message do skinny-white-guy rap with cello, which is more than mutant enough a message for me. It tanks.

    Grand Island scream lotsa loud nonsense over clumsy, clanging non-riffs. It tanks.

    The Takers sound like an actual rock band (or for that matter, music at all), and fairly seize the moment. This seems to piss off the artsy crowd, who are here to support their artsy friends in the other bands, so they stand around pretending they’re cooler than this. They’re not.

    The only few bearable seconds of Pornbelt’s appearance is before they start, when the bass player pops her top. What in the ungodly fuck does it say about a band when punk rock kazoo has actually been done a million times better? This has to be some kind of milestone in evolution, or a sign of the apocalypse. Perhaps the shrillest, most painful and pointless cacophony I’ve ever witnessed, and I’ve seen some real train wrecks. I’m outta here. (Joe Coughlin)

    DROP DOSE, THE RUMBLETONES, MOVING BUILDINGS, KRISTIAN MONTGOMERY BAND
    Midway Cafe
    3/29/02

    Perhaps I was a tad harsh on Kristian Montgomery in a recent CD review-which isn’t to say I’m not a genius, or that I like the record. I also hear they got fucked outta their alleged time slot tonight, so props to ’em for even sticking around, if that’s true. Must be those Anger Management classes I’m taking, but the fact is, every year, some yuppie-friendly bar band like this gets lucky. And they’re undeniably great at what they do, they move tons of product, and everyone leaves happy. I guess it all depends on if you wear your Hootie comparisons as praise or an insult. I mean, it’s not like they sound like they do by accident. I have no use for what these guys play, but I’m fairly shocked at the sincerity they’re putting out here. I still think it’s for Extremely Average Puds, but this is America, and the Puds are allowed to rock, too.

    I like bands that confuse the Puds, so lucky for me, Moving Buildings are on the bill to fuck everything up. Opening with the wonderfully screwy “Treehugger,” they fearlessly fling notes into the air like those Ninja Star things, dippin’n’doodlin’ from polyrhythmic pomp into stone-free Hendrix territory, sometimes within the same passage. They switch instruments around and make it all look easy, with lyrics jumping from the intriguingly arcane to the traditional “Huh?” They’ve trimmed the more extreme jazz and goofball elements from the set tonight, but are no less busy, agile or interesting for it. They’re one of the few bands for whom I’ll waive my usual “Only Cover ‘Em Once” policy, as they never fail to surprise me, and more often than not leave me googly-eyed and rethinkin’ my very tastes, even after all this time. The Puds look lost. I’m happy.

    Swerve #3: The Rumbletones start with some boogified, near-metal covers of like, 50’s tunes and stuff (“Sea Cruise”?!?!) that work so perfectly, it’s almost disturbing. I’m reminded of long-gone locals Heavybilly (need I explain?). Similar idea, different results. There are subtleties here that have no right to be called that (you figure it out). Couple’a blues-tinged numbers follow, something I usually ignore, but they’re played with such obvious heart, I can’t look away. There are some anthem-type rah-rah things and a few more of those spray-painted cover jobs, and I’m thinking, this is the kinda Big Dumb Fun you’d go see when you were 22 (in 1980) and still lived in Winchendon-yet it’s so self-confident, it outsmarts 95% of the precious city-slicker shit we all wring our hands over. They’d be right at home playing a biker pig roast, and that to me is a lot rock’n’rollier than whoever’s on the cover this month. Jeez, whaddaya know-The Puds Are Alright!

    Speakno’which, remember these two words: Drop Dose. I’m so glad someone is doing this, “this” being… um, modern classic rock, or something. They look more “then” but sound as much “now,” even though they ain’t exactly either. I can see ’em winning over fans of, say, Bad Company as easily as fans of (insert current dirtball arena act). And dare I say, these factions can learn from each other? (Namely, I hope we can learn new phrases for stuff like, “They brought the rock,” even if it IS the truth.) Anyway, it’s the old retro-versus-timeless argument, and you know who’s winning that one here. Some of the material has a little ways to go, but their blueprint’s a ding-dong doozie. And “Thicker Skin” carries an obscenely simple, super-glue riff that has infected my every waking moment for about six weeks now. It’s unshakable to the point of serious derangement. In other words, the very thing I live for. Is there like, a Pud Army fan club I can join? (Joe Coughlin)

    COLD COFFEE
    The Kendall Café
    4/11/02

    It’s interesting to see a clamorous garage-punk band adjust their sound and style to fit into the folksy Kendall. Cold Coffee pulls this modification off successfully, as evident by their cool, laid-back Velvet Underground-ish set. It dawns on me that ‘punk’ is an attitude and a technique, much more than it is a certain sound. Guitarists Sean Dillman and Noel Ventresco know this; they take turns at the mike, spattering out a trash bag full of skewed, jagged originals that connect best with fans of the first-wave underground, or any Lou Reed fan for that matter. The sweeping, sonic shiver of “My Last Place” calls to mind the Benzedrine-soaked trip-tones of Television’s “Carried Away.” Other choice brews include the folk-tinged “Waiting For The Fun” and a decaffeinated version of “Living in the Shadow of the Big Block.” (Steve Prygoda)

    MIRROR MIRROR
    Pub 30something
    Tyngsboro, MA
    4/13/02

    Don’t let the name of this club fool you. There are some “barely legals” here along with folks that are old enough to be my parents. This shows that the band appeals to a wide array of people. With that said, I must also add that the sound quality here is excellent. Mirror Mirror specializes in hard rock, and each table is thumping with their driving beat. The drummer is so fierce, he needs a kit twice the size of the one he’s playing on to sustain his fury. Each member displays a remarkable talent with the exception of the rhythm guitarist. In the few songs he sings, his vocal range is poor, and his guitar is actually out of tune. He also sports a mullet haircut. Ouch. I do enjoy myself though, and the atmosphere is friendly. (Free cake!) As long as the band can cut down on the cheesy cover ballads and fine tune that guitarist (literally), I see great things. (Sue O.)

  • WE GOT A ROCK FIGHT THIS YEAR

    Photo: Weth

    Campaign For Real Time


    Twenty-eight years and the WBCN Rock ‘n’ Roll Rumble is still going strong. This year the current Mr. Rumble himself, Shred, nicknames it a Rock Fight. The event has been built on solid grounds with emphasis on fairness for each band to have a chance to win it all. There are no tickets for the bands to sell. It’s not about how many fans the band brings down or how loud their fans can scream. And most importantly, it’s not a “pay-to-play” situation. Each of the 24 bands receives an invitation to play and is paid well ($200 for prelim set, $750 if they advance to the semis, and $3000, $1750, or $1000 if they reach the finals—and there are also some pretty hefty prize packages). To be eligible for an invitation, the band must have had airplay on WBCN. They can’t have played a previous Rumble. And they can’t be in negotiations with or signed to a major label. Each night five judges (experienced people from the music business) give point scores in six categories—material (1-10 points), playing effectiveness (1-10 points), vocal effectiveness (1-10 points), timing (1-10 points), stage presence (1-5 points), plus a bonus category (1-5 points) to cover anything beyond the other categories. At the end of each night the judges’ scores are totaled up. The high score may very well be the winner, but to be safe, the high and low votes for each band are dropped (to ensure that no judge is trying to force a win with lopsided voting) and the scores are tallied up once more. If the same band wins again, then they are the night’s winner. If a different band wins after dropping the highs and lows, this total overrides the first tally and the new high scorer is the winner. For history buffs, there was once a Rumble rule that said if a band made use of extra lights or a fog machine, then the other bands could also use those same effects. But the rule didn’t stick.

    Now, let the Noise Rumble Team (Steve Gisselbrecht, Shithead, Joel Simches, Weth, Robin Umbley, Kevin Finn, Shady, Lexi Kahn, and me) add our rock throwing to the rock fight.

    Campaign For Real Time packs the room early and hands out anti-android tracts; they’ve got an elaborate off-stage schtick.  The music is booty shaking, high-energy funk-rock, heavy on keyboards, with some canned beats under the live drums.  Several members switch off among keyboards and vocals, and one keyboardist, Wile E. Peyote, has apparently just joined in the last week.  Like most funk, I find the music pretty simple, aside from the powerhouse bass lines and some soul harmonies. But they’ve got the total show, and a strong sense of how to work an audience.  There’s a weird Rocky Horror moment when fans throw books at the band.

    Alchemilla is a vastly more straightforward experience.  A five-piece, they are centered around singer Kat Burke.  She’s a diva and a power-wailer, and I’m completely enthralled whenever she’s singing.  The rest of the band tends toward a classic rock feel on most of their songs, but they mix it up on one weird one with verses in ten and choruses in eleven.  I’m pleased to hear them branching out.  They are playing with a fill-in drummer tonight, former bandmember Matt Russell, who is pretty impressive on two rehearsals. Somewhat unwisely, they end with their slowest number.

    The room kind of clears out before A Hero Next Door goes on.  From the look of things, I’m guessing that this is because most of their fans are too young to get into this show.  The ones that are here crowd the front of the stage and scream along to every song.  I find this band somewhat distressingly one-note; if there’s an emotion that cannot be expressed by strumming sixteenth notes with the distortion cranked all the way up and screaming along, they don’t want to know about it.  But they’ve certainly got a strong, energetic presence.

    Last up is Cocked N’ Loaded, and they bring the rawk.  There’s actually some pleasant guitar melody hiding in all their bombast, and I enjoy them more than I expected to.  Every song has more or less exactly the same arc, with a fast, wanky metal guitar solo and a call-and-response screaming chorus.  These last are quite effective, and the front row screams along with each one, although they get to sounding quite similar after a while.  We are also treated to many clouds of spit beer, which look pretty under the lights but dismay the photographer in the front row.

    Winner: Campaign for Real Time.

    Taxpayer. This is my second time seeing the band and something really clicks tonight—I feel like I suddenly “get it,” whatever “it” was that previously had me thinking they were merely “good,” when they’re actually outstanding. Atmosphere abounds. I’ve always loved the imagery good guitar work can conjure; the quieter bits cloud-like over the passing landscapes of the rhythm section, the louder bits like a futuristic pirate ship in a stormy ocean. This set’s chock full of such flavor. A few technical flubs aside, the music and performance are simply epic. Taxpayer’s my “easy pick” to win the night.

    Most of the crowd clears out before Mach 5. More leave during their AC/DC/ Crue inspired set. Lead singer Mach Bell was in the first Rumble in 1979, which is both impressive and kinda sad—I mean, one would think he’s accumulated so much experience and wisdom to convey, then he throws on sequins and bug-eyed sunglasses to sing about… pussy. It’s kind of creepy, definitely sloppy, and frankly puerile. Sweet. Their last tune is a heartfelt tribute to the once-hoppin’ Kenmore Square . I’m mostly worried that the guy’s gonna fall off that amp and really hurt himself.

    I’m a sucker for harmony, and Scamper’s Cars/ Weezer-esque tunes deliver the best harmonies I’ve heard in this town. Another bass has to be borrowed from Taxpayer (bonus points for Taxpayer, says T Max) after “Brendo” performs two songs on his knees with the mic angled down. The crowd takes a ridiculous amount of pictures of their genius/ goofball choreography, which is damn good stuff. Scamper just puts a smile on your face regardless, and that seems to be the point. I’m still convinced Taxpayer’s got it nailed, but in my heart I want these dorky, unassuming, wildly entertaining guys to emerge victorious.

    I admit, with all that Internet slagging I expected Sublime-esque funk-pop bullshit that I keep around the house in lieu of ipecac, but Plan B’s alright. Not my thing, but definite punk/ metal-pop talent. Purists will see too many strings on stage, and the singer’s got matching star tattoos, but they’re the tightest band tonight and I enjoy it. Great delivery, too, particularly singer Billy Silvestri, who is enthused, spastically mobile, and on point throughout. He mugs his way through “I Fucked Your Girlfriend” like a muppet, which puts the tongue firmly back in cheek, where it belongs on such material. Good job, kids.

    Scamper takes it—which makes me almost completely happy—then I learn that Taxpayer fell behind by just a half-point—then I’m completely happy. Best Rumble night ever.

    Say When takes the stage, looking smart in their freshly washed and ironed T-shirts and jeans, the rhythm section adorned in matching backwards baseball caps. While singer Max Latif is a strong frontman who engages the crowd by sticking the mic into the audience so they can sing “whoa!,” it is the bass player, Mike Marvuglio, who steals the show with his goofy faces and flamboyant stage moves. The band plays it safe, sticking to their Foo Fighters/ Matchbox 20-lite formula, much to the delight of their fans, but to the ire of those wanting something more substantial. Adam Glasseye is overheard saying, “I hate this more than terrorism.”

    Casey Desmond’s set starts with some flamboyantly powerful vocal exercises!  Holy fuck, can this girl sing! She’s aided by the best side musicians and soundman that money can buy.  Their set loses major points for having a six string bass.  Why is that necessary?  While Casey’s performance electrifies and engages the now packed room, her songs lack substance, originality and dynamics.  You could chalk that up to being such a young singer-songwriter. Hopefully in time, her skills as a songwriter will catch up with her talents as a vocalist.    

    Certainly, Sir sets up their magic boxes of analog electronic chocobliss and delivers a stunning set of material, aided by guest vocalist Kristina Johnson on their first song. Their loops, live drums, electronics, and guitar parts are working with synergistic exactitude, but fail to engage the audience, who sadly become bored, restless, and talkative.  A shame, as this is really the best performance in quite some time, sounding especially like Curtis Mayfield gone electropop. I am mesmerized… easily the most interesting band I have seen this evening so far.

    Appomattox starts their set with a no holes barred approach to taking the stage by storm.  When you see a power trio with a red vistalite drum kit, a Fender bass and a Gibson SG, you’d expect some kind of rock power trio supergroup.  Appottamox isn’t about that.  They are emo, yet energetic… no shoegazing from these guys. Guitarist Nick Gaynier flails about the stage and looks his audience in the eye. Their set is relentlessly intense, tight, and bursting with energy.  Whoo! Indeed.

    Winner: Appottamox!

    Sucka Brown starts the night with some feel-good party funk that gets the baseball-capped boys in the audience to nod in syncopated approval. Singer Brendan Hall’s compelling, soulful croon enhances his engaging stage presence; Scott Sowden’s slap-n-pop bass keeps the rhythm somewhat fluid and bouncing. The band has limited dynamic, though, saddled by Todd Denman’s uninspired guitar work that sticks to a rhythm role, and the consistently mid-tempo disco beat from drummer Matt Slowik. It’s feel-good funk rock that never manages to break through to feel-great.

    Tiger Saw slows the pace down further with an excursion into soothing, ethereal folk tunes. The instrumentation range is quite broad, that includes flute, accordion, and banjo, along with the more standard guitar, bass, keyboards, drums, and cello. Normally a six-piece ensemble, tonight they are joined by Casey Dienel on additional keyboards. All seven sing, often together with sweetly soothing, repetitive harmonies. Lush yet plodding, the crowd murmurs over their low, soothing dynamic. Did I mention that they’re soothing? Such sonic territory is mined well by bands such as The Decemberists, but without being especially tight, clever, or weird, Tiger Saw remains charming but lightweight.

    Not much is lightweight about We’re All Gonna Die. This three-piece comes across as ZZ Top out on a drunken metal bender. Perhaps what’s most impressive about this band is Jim Healey’s vocal range; he can go from straightforward singing to full-bore powerscream in a downbeat, all while cranking out steelgrater guitar riffs. Jim’s brother, Scott Healey, pounds on the drums, and cousin Russ Boudreau beats the crap out of his bass—it’s a family mayhem affair. Crushed beer cans are thrown at and from the stage by the packed, adoring crowd. A truly wild set.

    Somewhat obscured by banks of colored stage lights shining back at the audience, Eyes Like Knives delves into fast, distorted synth-washed songscapes. Both Scott Toomey and Rebekka Takamizu share guitarist/ keyboardist/ vocalist duties, exchanging leading roles in a series of captivating volleys. Eyes Like Knives harkens back to gothy ’80s Britpop somewhat (if only they had a fog machine), but what keeps it from being derivative shoegazer fare is twofold: Andre Obin’s propulsive and driving basslines, as well as the ongoing interplay between Toomey and Takamizu. The lights get kind of annoying, though; better bring sunglasses to the semifinals…

    Winner: Eyes Like Knives

    As their opening song goes, “Coffin Lids rock ‘n’ roll!” Rock AND roll they do with aplomb. They play their brand of campy-but-serious garage rock as triumphantly and as polished as if they had just won the Rumble. Skinny Mike, with his technicolored tattooed arms and slicked back greaser look plays to the crowd, which enthusiastically helps out on choruses. Melissa Coffin on Farfisa organ joins The Coffin Lids’ guitar, bass, and drums lineup, adding depth to their low-fi sixties sound. Their performance is a slinky, sexy, guitar-driven controlled catharsis. Due to time constraints, the audience is denied their encore.

    Harris can’t quite ride the raw energy generated by The Coffin Lids, but they try. This five-piece—two guitars, bass, keyboards, and drums—has a funkier wacka-wacka sound enhanced by spacey keyboards. Their stage presence is meeker and more casual; they don’t have the personality to overcome their baggy jeans and polo shirt look. Their songs begin with interesting musical ideas but each deteriorates into a sludge jam with excessive whaling on the crash cymbal. Highlight: Jim Reed, the mild-mannered keyboard player, undergoes a personality change and becomes a psycho vocalist on one song. He should consider becoming Harris’s permanent frontman.

    I smell irony all over the place with The Sharking. This is a four-piece—two guitars, bass, and drums—that play a poppy, Big Star, Elvis Costello—when Elvis was edgier—sound. Frontman Marc Flynn looks and behaves like a cross between John Belushi and Christopher Lloyd as Reverend Jim with his unkempt hair and rumpled clothes—but balanced with checkerboard sneakers and a Gibson Explorer—and this works with the crowd. The band is tight, musically polished and interesting; they mix up the sounds from just vocals with rhythm guitar to all out rock.

    The Jonas Complex does double duty tonight, having just played their style of bombastic hard rock Downstairs at Emergenza. This four-piece’s power is vocalist Brig Dauber: a boyish, waifish looking singer whose fierce pipes defy his size and looks. He has a surprisingly riveting stage presence, and effectively moderates his voice between moaning and controlled screams. But every song follows the same formula: an intriguing beginning ends with the same powerful screaming which becomes predictable and tiresome. Musically, the instruments sound sludgy (why waste an Gibson SG Supreme with a Crate amp?) and much of the crowd seeks refuge in the restaurant.

    I am perplexed and jaded by now; Harris wins.

    When The Rudds hit the stage, the crowd reacts with such boisterous glee that I’m worried the place will empty out immediately following their set, and that the other bands won’t be given a fair chance. Buoyed by the crowd, The Rudds deliver a heck of a set. They sound like a roots rock influenced Cheap Trick, but fronted by a white Prince. John Powhida is in great voice, and his demonstrative gesticulations add flair, but the real star is guitarist Brett Rosenberg, all tasty restraint one moment, all flashy showmanship the next. Overall, a tough act to follow.

    Rooftop Suicide Club is up next, and for the most part, they acquit themselves well, as their laid-back jangle-pop offers a welcome contrast to The Rudds’ more frenzied approach. Singer/ guitarist Chris Haskell has a boyish voice that reminds me of Clint Conley, but the music is steeped more in ’70s AOR, albeit with an indie touch. I particularly like the instrumental portions of the songs where Haskell’s guitar and Jeff Gobush’s keyboards create a slight dissonance. They lose some steam toward the end, particularly on a slower number that has some cringe-inducing harmonies. All in all, it’s a solid performance.

    Random Acts Of Violence inject a welcome dose of testosterone to the mix, as they play metal for people who like metal, not for pop fans who just want to feel tough. Their aggressive energy is contagious; they are an absolute blast to watch, and you have to admire their tough stance against all things bullshit. I particularly love the harmonized guitar playing and the fact that this is a band that puts on no airs. I suppose the band could use a little more tunefulness now and then, but I’d be hesitant to tamper with a winning formula.

    As for Faces On Film, I’m wondering how they got this far, and yes, I know it’s only the first round. They’re in clear violation of Random Acts Of Violence’s no bullshit stance. Some of the interplay between the guitars has an interesting Sonic Youth-type vibe, but too often the music comes across as indie-rock-by-numbers or as studied and self-aware to the point of pretension. Singer Mike Fiore also comes off as a bit whiny when expresses that The Rudds are going to be named winners, which, at the end of the night, they deservedly are.

     

    Looking like Jed Clampett’s long lost first cousins, We’re All Gonna Die rips into their set of crushingly loud and hard groove-based rock. I’ve never experienced this level of pure volume at the Middle East Up. Bass player Russ Boudreau sports a mullet, forklift company baseball cap, and chain wallet. Guitarist Jim Healey could be a stand in for Dusty Hill of ZZ Top and kicks serious hard rock ass. Scott Healey’s destructo-thon drumming in his sleeveless Schlitz T-shirt completes this band. There’s no doubt that they can play—and did I mention that they’re loud?

    Scamper is pretty much the antithesis of We’re All Gonna Die. Imagine if you will, Weezer joining forces with Fountains Of Wayne and losing the bet to The Click Five. Add some choreographed dance moves by way of bass player Brendan Clarke and guitarist Nate Rogers and you have what feels might be the weakest band of the night. They are a little too clever for me—although all of the girls in front of me in their Abercrombie uniforms and ponytails, seem to dig it, so what do I know?

    It’s time for some scorching indie rock from Appomattox . I’m talking the old school variety—with James Mello’s frenetic drumming and Dave Nurmi’s thumping bass. Singer/ guitarist Nick Gaynier completes the marriage with his breakneck pace of jumping, shouting, and staring down the audience like Frank Black and Thom York. Appomattox draws me in with the screeching, staccato rhythmic guitars. I can’t fail to mention their ode to George W­—three dancers in rubber Bush masks with black T-shirts reading “Thief” —brilliant stuff.

    Last up is Campaign For Real Time. I’m not sure what this is supposed to be exactly—a mix of dance grooves and funked out rock, tons of energy for sure. Sort of a KC & The Sunshine Band shaking hands with the devil. The recipe also containes various keyboards, samples, rapping, shouting, and singing. Plus they completely floor me with singer Lee Bronson’s ’70s impersonation of Shemp from the Three Stooges. Not my favorite of the evening, but entertaining for sure. And I bet a they’re a hit at frat parties.

    Results: Scamper scamps in and steals the night.

    Taxpayer starts off with the catchy, propulsive “When They Were Young,” the chorus of which I would find myself singing for the next week. This gets the crowd jumping; the band is big on personality, channel the room’s energy, and deftly deliver a tight set of juicy pop nuggets. Based on Taxpayer’s dynamic blend of sexy atmospherics, evocative, sublime vocals, and hard-hitting guitars, it’s no mystery at all why they’re on Lunch Records, the label that launched Bleu and Helicopter Helicopter. Killer sophisticated pop, but fun too – made more so when Aberdeen City ‘s Brad Parker joins them for “Surrender.”

    Eyes Like Knives swings easily into their distinctive set of… electroclash-emo, maybe? Between charming banter they overflow with equally charming music, though they don’t bring “song” into their songs. I like the way this kind of weightless, airy cotton-candy synth pop has the power to transform a room, and before long there’s practically a rhythmic sway to the crowd, mesmerized under Eyes Like Knives’ shimmering waves. Light on composition, heavy on mood-making, keyboards and delicate vocals, their cover of “Eye in the Sky” requires no explanation. In fact, it practically precludes one.

    You COULD argue that The Rudds only appear to rock like the proverbial hurricane because Eyes Like Knives is so soothing, but you’d be wrong – they do that every damn time, man. This crew delivers an anthemic riot of old school rock ‘n’ roll, and I love it when J. Po channels the Purple One and goes all writhy and falsetto. Andrea Gillis’s throaty vocals kill me, plus she gets my best-rack-of-the-Rumble award. The keys rock hard, the drums rock hard, and I can’t say enough about the twin wizardry of Brett Rosenberg on lead guitar and Tony Goddess on bass.

    Because The Rudds leave the crowd in such a fever pitch of scream-along rock god worship, I feel bad for Harris. For about sixty seconds, which is how long they take to prove that theirs is an equally intense rock god energy, just born of a different breed. The guitarists, first of all, are whirling dervishes; they don’t seem obliged to put on a good show, they are driven to do so. I’m in love with the electronic seasonings peppered throughout, and all the vocals are top notch. Songs, sophistication, insanity, and whimsy makes Harris tops in my book, but The Rudds prove too tough an act to follow and win the night.

    Campaign For Real Time blasts out of the starting gate tossing boulders—this ain’t no little rock fight anymore. Their set is front-loaded with their biggest hits. “Something Is Wrong” and “In Your Dreams” brutally build a convincing argument of why this band of android time-travelers should win this event. They’re a mish-mash of big bottom rhythms, synth sounds, semi-raps, and multiple crisscrossing vocals. After dragging a girl on stage to dance with him, Lee “Big Game” Bronson crowd surfs the room, looking confident.

    The Rudds launch their rock counter attack, but their energy level falls short of the bar that C4RT has set. Despite the snappy jokes about a member’s labia reconstruction, Brett Rosenberg’s chicken strut ( a la Chuck Berry), Andrea Gillis in a dress (!!), J.Po’s jump-rope workout, and a flawless vocal/musical presentation, the magic that was so apparent in The Rudds semi-final set appears to have dissipated. Next to C4RT’s set, The Rudds are a traditional rock band, no matter how much they’re “keeping it non-traditional” (from their CD’s title track, “The Femuline Hang On”).

    Scamper puts down their rocks and offers a peaceful settlement then guitar-whacks both opponents in the back of the head. In “Sophie” they offer photo ops for the “three guitarist stance.” In “Escaping Flatland” they execute the most precise sychronized kicks yet in the Rumble. “Wait Wait” has the catchiest country-twinged chorus of the entire night. Kay Hanley doesn’t show up for “ Barcelona ” but Stevie Nicks saves the day in “Stunner.” Their fun choreography number wraps up the night. (Please tell me Nate wasn’t shot by a jealous husband after the show—you had to be there.)

    Robby Roadsteamer stands in for Rev. Glasseye (last year’s champ who is on the road) to pass the 28 year-old Rumble tiara on to the winner. It’s Campaign For Real Time, and Robby is immediately covered in a C4RT pile. These time travelers say they came back four times to win this Rumble. I’m now a believer.

    Thanks go out to Shred and the Middle East for a most wonderful display of organized rock throwing with a loving, yet competitive, edge.

     

  • Mr. Max’s Message | The Noise


    April 2012

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    Mr Max’s Message

    GLOUCESTER MA + OTHER SHOWS Hey, I have a big show coming up in Gloucester at the Dog Bar with two legends—Preacher Jack and Willie Alexander. It’s at at the Dog Bar and it’s also my CD release party for Shake! So come to Gloucester on Saturday April 14—make dinner reservations to get the best seats—the show is free. There are also two other shows I’m involved with: on April 1st (at 3pm) I’m playing with Thea Hopkins and friends … Read More >>

    Message from T Max

    GLOUCESTER MA Our Valentine show in February was as good as it gets. The publicity was excellent with multiple video-ettes on gimmesound.com that were basically a tour of Gloucester’s music venues and other places of interest. I spent one full day with Peter Van Ness shooting from the train tracks to Main Street with no script or rehearsals, improvising with what ever came our way. When it came time for the Valentine show, lots of people showed up for dinner … Read More >>

    MR. MAX’S MESSAGE

    I have to thank Brian Owens at Metronome for putting me on the cover of his fine magazine that does a great job of covering music from New England and beyond. HAUPPAGUE, LONG ISLAND 1969 That’s me blowing the bugle for the daily raising of the flag at Botany raincoat factory. That large lawn behind me holds the secret of why I was fired from this, my first ever job. I was the janitor/gardener and I should have known that … Read More >>

    Mr. Max’s Message December 2011

    MR. MAX’S MESSAGE – DECEMBER 2011 GLOUCESTER I’m really liking the Dog Bar in Gloucester. I’ve taken on booking the second Saturday of each month starting in February. And that show on Februay 11th will be a Valentine’s showcase with two talented and lovely couples, Bird Mancini, and Joe & Renee of Bandit Kings. Peter and Vicky Van Ness continue to support all the Noise shows through GimmeSound.com and their marketing genius. MY GIG REPORT Before the my gig report … Read More >>

    MR. MAX’S MESSAGE – AUGUST 2011

      NEW HOME: GLOUCESTER Gloucester is still proving to be a very entertaining city. There has been festivals, parades, and block parties every weekend since I’ve been here. On Wednesday 7/20 I was invited onto Local Music Seen, Allen Estes and Peter Van Ness’s TV show that features talent from the Cape Ann area. The taping was a wonderful experience. They tape a show right after mine featuring Julie Dougherty and her husband Woody (playing bass). I’m very lucky to … Read More >>

    MR. MAX’S MESSAGE – JUNE 2011

    NEW HOME: GLOUCESTER As I write this I am totally exhausted. The Noise has found a new home in Gloucester, Massachusetts. I’m very excited because I already know a bunch of wonderful people/musicians who live there and I’m familiar with most of the venues and cool stores. I’m exhausted because at the moment we’re still in the process of moving. And we don’t know exactly when we can move in. Luckily this current issue is a double issue (June/July) so … Read More >>

    Mr. Max’s Message 05/11

    MR. MAX’S MESSAGE – MAY 2011 UPCOMING GIG I’m very excited to be playing a live show that will include Why Do We Go to War? (with a new ending). The show is at the Byfield Community Arts Center on Saturday, May 21. And I’m even more exited to report that Jason Duguay of Project Sound has agreed to record the live show for a future live CD.  Anna Dagmar from New York is also on the bill. I’m on … Read More >>

    Mr. Max’s Message 04/11

    MR. MAX’S MESSAGE – APRIL 2011 I want to share with you some of the responses I received to Jonathan Perry’s article in the Boston Globe on the Noise’s 30th anniversary. Hey T Max, Great article in the Boston Globe. When I lived with you in 1982 (boy, were we the odd couple—me going to work in a suit and tie, dating women that tended to have or pursued graduate degrees and you getting up at noon and going out … Read More >>

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  • The Noise : Rock Around Boston. – LIVE REVIEWS:Sept2010

    littleCover.jpg
    Issue 304/ September 2010

    Support Local Music

    JENNY DEE & THE DEELINQUENTS
    American Legion Park, Georgetown, MA
    8/1/10

    I grew up on girl groups of the ’60s,
    seeing just about every one of them at Murray the K’s shows at the
    Brooklyn Fox Theatre. None of those early girl groups have anything
    on Jenny Dee & the Deelinquents. Jenny is the whippinest ball of
    female sweetness, wailing on every authentic-sounding tune (whether
    it be a cover or an original) and shaking those hips in time, while
    leading the stylized choreography. The Dee-ettes (my phrase, not theirs)
    are two black-dressed gals, shimmying and shaking in mirror image, while
    supplying the ever-necessary background ooos and repeated phrases. The
    six-piece backing band reads like a who’s who of the Boston music
    scene. They’re big on the grooves and the solos are executed
    with precision. No wonder they landed an opening slot for J. Geils
    and Aerosmith at Fenway Park. Their CD, Keeping Time, sounds
    like a juicy bit of ’60s history, but it’s all authentic 2010 music
    with a retro fit. This show is videotaped so I’ll be able to watch
    it all week on my local Georgetown cable station. (T Max)

    SOUND IN STONE
    with SHANE HALL, SUN*DRIED ALIBI

    The Spot, Providence, RI
    7/30/10

    Sun*Dried Alibi starts off their set
    with the funky jam song “Spinning Around.” Singer Liz Keefe—whose
    vocals remind me of Joan Osborne, so full-bodied, with deep emotional
    undertones—steps backstage to dance as the band jams away. This is
    the bass player Louis Agosto’s second show with the band. If it wasn’t
    said, I never would have guessed that, because he fits perfectly. The
    band plays solid rock ‘n’ roll. “State Line” slows the set
    down; it is a very bluesy number. Liz gets deep down as she sings it,
    her eyes closed tight. She reaches out to the crowd for support; her
    face is constricted in a painful grimace, like these words are coming
    from the deepest part of her soul. The band slows down, until Brendan
    the drummer is the only one left playing a slow, quiet cadence. They
    start adding layers, building up into “Versions of You,” as
    Liz marches in place. Another jam ends their set.

    Five-piece band Sound in Stone is playing
    with Shane Hall (the experimental folk artist from Massachusetts, not
    the banjo player from Tennessee). Sound In Stone and Shane have been
    sharing the stage for a few weeks now while on a mini-tour of the East
    Coast. They alternate between their songs, giving each act equal time.
    Shane runs off the stage to grab a guitar, which prompts an improv song
    by Sound in Stone—”This is us wasting time. This is the song
    we play when we need to waste time.” Shane jumps back onto the
    stage, starting off a very interesting trip. The songs at their core
    are folk tunes, but at times played at almost punk tempos. I’m impressed
    by Larry Wilson, who plays the keyboard, tuba and trumpet, and sings
    backing vocals; one song has him doing all of it. They play an all-acoustic
    version of “Stepping Stone,” which is more Sex Pistols than
    Paul Revere & the Raiders. They played close to an hour. I enjoyed
    it so much I am disappointed when it’s over. (Melvin O)

    MUCK & THE MIRES, SPRAINED
    ANKLES, THE EVIL STREAKS
    , THE OPIOIDS
    Precinct Bar, Somerville MA
    8/6/10

    Here’s the scoop:
    Frank Strom booked this show himself, and therefore felt it not proper
    to
    review it himself. The clever little devil planned
    to tap Nancy Neon for the job, but amidst all the hurly-burly of putting
    the show together, made one tiny mistake. He forgot to tell her about
    the show. This is where I come into the story—a completely
    anonymous stranger, plucked from the crowd and plopped in front
    of a keypad. Since it
    is his birthday, I figure the best present I
    can give Frank is writing this review
    and not mentioning how old and haggard he’s
    looking…

    The show’s line-up
    may be great, but I’m just giddy from the star-studded guests in the
    crowd: there’s Mr. Kenne Highland… Malibu Lou… B-Face Queer (and
    he
    never comes out)… and Abunai!’s Dan Parmenter,
    which is really weird since Abunai! is supposed to be playing up the
    street at PA’s Lounge even as we speak! Maybe they broke up again.

    Okay, as for the show
    itself, for starters, I am confused by the first band, the Opioids.
    I can’t quite figure what they have to do with Ron Howard
    or
    the Andy Griffith Show, when clearly they are a revamped version of
    the Black Mosettes! It’s former Mosettes Rockin’ Ronnie, Andy, and
    Gamp with new addition (and local legend) Boby Bear on drums. Further
    confusion: This is the Opioids’
    first performance, but bass player Andy says it’s
    his
    last show. Guy needs some sense slapped into him.
    Not everyone can have one of the most wonderful, appealing, eclectic
    bands around, go completely ignored by an ignorant public, and then
    be allowed (or demanded!) to continue it under a new name. As for what
    the Opioids sound like, reread the first third of the last sentence.
    If this turns out to be a one-shot band… fuck it—I’m moving to
    Canada.

    Our second band hails
    from the deep south (Maynard area, I think), where the surf-punk traditions
    are as much a part of life as fried dough and the Mass. Lottery. Fronted
    on vocals and twangy guitar by ex-Ghouls Night Out gal Myra, the Evil
    Streaks continue that band’s mission, though slightly less surf/monster/hotrod
    and slightly more punk this go round. I stress
    slightly, as GNO songs “Little Witch” and “Stitch
    You Up” are still featured prominently. Myra is joined by the all-male
    crew of John Kozik (guitar), the Rev (bass) and Sloth (drums). While
    this has no relevance to the music, I must point out what an absolutely
    fabulous look they’ve got going with the guys in suits and ties and
    Myra in a long black evening dress. Like an Astaire & Rogers film
    with a beach party soundtrack. Genius!

    A lot of ink has been
    spilled in the name of headliners Muck & the Mires. When you think
    of how many innocent squid were inhumanely milked (or worse) in order
    for praise to be written about this band, it seems like an unspeakable
    crime! But then you hear them play and against all better judgment,
    you realize that it’s completely justified. Tonight’s set serves
    as proof—the material (“Hypnotic,” “Doreen,” and an ever-expanding
    catalogue of favorites) is brilliantly written and brilliantly performed.
    We all know drummer Jesse Best is the finest kind, but let’s not forget
    guitarist Brian and bassist JQ are certifiably elite themselves. With
    guilty conscience, I concede victory to main Muck Evan Shore and henceforth
    revoke my PETA membership. Goddamn moptop bastards!

    To paraphrase the late great Steve
    Gerber: what do you do after you’ve just seen the best band in the
    universe? You stick around for the Sprained Ankles! A tough task having
    to follow Muck, but the Ankles are rousing, energetic, and nervy enough
    to manage it. While not exactly sounding like them, the Ankles are definitely
    spiritual brethren to Scotland’s Revillos and NYC’s Sic Fucks—the
    two greatest funny boy/girl bands of the past. High praise well deserved!
    It’s a patchy Ankles line-up tonight due to a few band members being
    away, but they compensate with crazy drive and determination. Guitarist
    Loggy is the real hero of the show, recently injuring his arm but still
    playing anyway and running the sound for all the bands on the
    bill! (Completely Anonymous Stranger)

    LOS WÜNDERTWINS DEL RAP, JEN KEARNEY
    & THE LOST ONION, LEO BLAIS

    (outside) Major’s Pub, Lowell, MA
    The Second Annual Uptown Lowell
    Music & Arts Festival

    7/24/10

    This festival co-exists alongside the
    Lowell Folk Festival. I arrive at the big 90-foot-square outdoor tent
    and Leo Blais spots me. We get to talking and I find out that everyone
    I know in Lowell is attending this show. Minutes later Leo is on the
    stage with his five-piece band respectfully covering George Harrison’s
    “Beware of Darkness.” The vocals are always melodic and the band
    is quite enjoyable. The vibes give the band a cool sound. Guitarist
    Adam Douglass may play a little too loud but he’s fresh with his lead
    improvisation. “Show Me Love” gets Leo jumping, and “I Meditate
    (Walking Around You Baby)” transforms from a Beatle-ish one-note bass
    line to a Jimi Hendrix-like jam. They end with “Come Again,” a nice
    keyboard composition that rips into an aggressive jam with screaming
    theremin.

    Before the next act comes on, Anne
    and I head off in search of something to eat. The entire population
    of Lowell is in the streets and the people-watching is extraordinary—it’s
    a melting pot that would rival New York City. In our short walk we land
    at Brew’d Awakenings, grab some tasty sandwiches, and take in a performance
    by a guitar-playing pretty Cambodian gal folk singer accompanied by
    a fiddle player. She mixes folk songs of her country with little-known
    American folk songs. A few steps down the street we hear an accurate
    funk rendition of “Pick Up the Pieces” with a pretty Asian woman
    in the center of a crowded dance floor attracting eyes. Around the corner
    there’s a Latino band singing of bullets flying around the marketplace.
    The soused street crowd includes a conga line of fools loving every
    drunken step. Just across the street at the entrance of Mr. Jalapeño
    restaurant we hear a suave tenor voice charming the women in a true
    macho Mexican style. The performer in sombrero and stylish bright blue
    suit with white trim sings into Anne’s eyes, wooing her for the moment
    and beyond. I catch his name etched into his bandana-like collar design—J.
    Jose Solis. The street entertainment can’t get any better than
    J. Jose, so we head back to our original festival.

    On re-arrival Jen Kearney & the
    Lost Onion is in mid-set. This five-piece plays a kind of ‘60s soulful
    jazz/blues rock. They’ve got spot-on background harmonies and a flugelhorn
    for extra color. The female bassist is quite the player, comfortably
    moving through her tasty grooves and looking like she’s enjoying it.
    Jen, the bandleader, fingers her keys like a jazz player and wails with
    the vocals. The band closes their show with a decent cover of Led Zeppelin’s
    “What Is and What Should Never Be.”

    The next group up includes the guy
    who made this whole festival possible—D Tension. His duet rap group
    is the entertaining Los Wündertwins Del Rap. D and his partner Effect
    are doing their final show tonight and the audience is full of their
    fans donning the group’s black and white T-shirt. I said this is a
    duet but there is one other person on stage enclosed in cardboard representing
    a human-size boom box. On the box it reminds us to put an umlaut over
    the U. Wow—I’m at a rap show and the energy level has been pumped
    up. The twins quickly spit out their phases, sometimes trading off every
    eighth note. They do a tune about wrestler Rick Flair and ask for audience
    participation. They get a guy up to do his award-winning Mick Jagger
    impersonation. Then they’re into “10 Minutes” with heavy-duty
    speedy rhythmic rhymes about a guy almost caught with another man’s
    wife. The audience chimes in on the phrase “Honey, I’m home!”
    The big charm necklaces and special caps are brought out for their Run
    DMC section of the show. There’s a guy in the audience doing authentic
    ’80s hip hop dancing—and it’s Jeremy Smith—a guy I met earlier
    who’s involved with the Western Mass. music scene. D has to scold
    the audience for requesting an overdone eight-year-old song, “They
    Want Real.” Instead they do their version of Dylan’s “It
    Ain’t Me Babe”—and D states that although the band is playing
    its last performance, he can almost guarantee a future show because
    they still have an entire unreleased album’s worth of material already
    recorded. The world moves fast and this duet is just keeping in time.
    See you in a couple of months at the reunion. (T Max)



    THE CONCORD BALLET ORCHESTRA PLAYERS, GOLIATH, SOMETHING LIKE BANTER,
    THE INVISIBLE HOURS

    AS220, Providence, RI
    7/31/10

    I arrive at AS220 not
    knowing what to expect. I have been dragged here by a friend who wants
    to check out the bands and peek at the new art up on the walls. I stop
    at the bar for a drink when I hear things getting started in the next
    room.

    Rushing over, I find
    the Invisible Hours have taken the stage. There is a small crowd scattered
    around the room as they launch into the first song, a mellow, mid-paced
    rocker with good hooks and nice guitar work at the end. They hit a rough
    spot starting their second song but keep moving on. I am impressed by
    their sound. The drummer is steady, the bass parts are more complicated
    than anything I have heard live recently, and the guitar is both atmospheric
    and gritty. Every song is good and has a consistent 1960’s vibe. The
    guitar player excitedly stumbles around his space on the stage. The
    crowd is into it and someone is videoing them. They are certainly worth
    three of the six dollars I spent to get in.

    Up next is Something
    Like Banter, a solo performer who has set up two computers and a keyboard
    on a table in front of the stage. He begins what feels like a lecture.
    Ten minutes of talking goes by before he starts his first song as films
    are projected on the stage behind him. He creates loops with a keyboard
    and continues adding layers as the song progresses. After the song he
    continues his “lecture.” The guys in the sound booth look annoyed.
    During his next song the gallery lights are slowly turned on in one
    part of the room to reveal someone sleeping against the wall. Not only
    has he wasted half of his set talking but he has put people to sleep.

    Next, someone takes
    the stage and begins unpacking a guitar, setting up a pedal board, and
    turning on a laptop. This is the solo act Goliath. He begins an instrumental
    that picks up where the previous act left off, creating loops and building
    layers. The audio is poor. It sounds like a click from a bad cable gets
    mixed in with a loop and as the layers build the sound gets muddy. He
    catches a groove and begins to jerk his shoulder in time. I turn around
    to see three guys in the sound booth mimicking the dance. The remaining
    crowd seems disinterested.

    Finally, the Concord
    Ballet Orchestra Players take the stage. There are two keyboard players,
    a guitarist, someone playing a theremin, and a drummer. Fast projections
    start on the screens behind them as they vault into a noise jam. After
    the first five minutes I’m not sure what to think until they begin
    to hone in. By mid-set any doubt begins to subside as I feel teleported
    to a show in 1960’s Cambridge. Sadly, this feeling begins to wane
    as the keyboard player at the front of the stage begins talking/singing
    (he is also the same person who napped through the second performance).
    By the end of the set the remaining crowd looks restless after enduring
    forty minutes of improvised sound.

    The lights come on
    and I finish the last of several drinks. I have spent $30 at the bar
    and estimate I have earned back about $4.50 of the $6 I paid at the
    door. (Heather Kilrow)

    SPITZER SPACE TELESCOPE, THE
    POINTS NORTH

    The 201, Providence, RI
    7/14/10

    It takes something
    incredible to leave me at a loss for words. The Points North hit me
    that hard, leaving me speechless for their whole performance. They walk
    out onto the very small/intimate space that has been carved out for
    the performers, and surrounding them is equipment from the other bands
    playing tonight. Chris North, the mandolin player, and Regina Peterson,
    a flutist, share the singing duties. Regina is playing an imitation
    Irish flute that has been made out of PVC piping. Evan Foundray plays
    an old electronic bass synth, with a haunting sound that fills the bottom.
    It is a good mix of Celtic and folk. The music is very airy; I actually
    close my eyes to absorb it all. As I’m floating in my own space, the
    music pulls me to the top of a huge green mountain, warm air brushes
    my face, blue skies wrap around me, I have no fears, no worries, just
    a strong sense of peace. I open my eyes, realizing how silly I must
    look, sitting there with a childlike grin, moving my head in time, with
    my eyes shut tight. I’m embarrassed being seen this vulnerable, but
    not for allowing the music to touch me. I walk to the back of the room,
    sit down in a dark corner, and by closing my eyes allow the newfound
    tranquility to return again.

    Dan MacDonald walks up to the mic,
    with a harmonica hanging around his neck, an acoustic guitar in his
    arms, “I’m the Spitzer Space Telescope” he says and starts
    to play. His first few songs are a direct Bob Dylan rip-off, complete
    with whiney incomprehensible vocals; unlike Dylan, this is annoying.
    He stops, laughs, and says “I’d like to thank the two of you that
    stayed.” He plays an old Irish jig that gets the crowd clapping.
    Dan stops again, breaking into a pretty long-winded story that really
    has no point. A few more quick Irish ditties finish up his set. He thanks
    everybody again, joking that he is amazed we all stayed. Honestly, I
    only stayed because it was a car crash situation. I didn’t want to see,
    but I couldn’t look away. (Melvin O)


    THE ADAM EZRA GROUP, KBMG

    Crocker Park, Marblehead, MA
    7/4/10

    I round the hill up to Crocker Park
    on this beautiful July 4th and there’s some sort of a country-rock
    hoedown in the midst. Now I’ve heard of Dan King the big North Shore
    booker/promoter, but was this really him fronting KBMG and more than
    adequately picking his six-string? And wait a second, last week
    I saw a young Gloucester prodigy with a great guitarist backing her—that
    same guitarist, David Brown, is on the open-air stage nimbly knocking
    out the tastiest solos. He’s got this great style of using three fingers
    on his fretboard while his pinky slide jumps in when needed. The result
    is those unique tasty solos. Drummer Dave Matacks starts a strange transition
    between two beats that leads into the band’s last number and Dan takes
    over the guitar solos—he’s got that blues thang down.

    WBZ’s Brian Wheeler, the host of
    the festivities, jumps on stage to bring on the Adam Ezra Group. The
    beautiful day is enhanced by a scenic view of Marblehead Harbor wearing
    a full-crowned rainbow, and the handsome short-bearded Adam Ezra points
    it out as he cranks up his rhythmic made-for-success band. Adam has
    a great open presence that encourages dancing by the young kids up front.
    He’s got a solid masculine voice and an outstanding band highlighted
    by percussionist Turtle, who at any moment may pick up his sticks to
    whack on the timbales for one fill than switch to the congas or bongos
    with less than a 1/4 note between. The band melds sounds of Dave Matthews,
    Bruce Springsteen, and the rhythmic side of Paul Simon. They normally
    play originals but today they throw in their distinct version of “The
    Weight” minus the extra vocals. As their first set ends, the sky darkens
    to the contrasting background for a fireworks display over the harbor.
    (T Max)

    VOODOO BEVY, THE
    SILKS, DENVER BOOT

    The 201, Providence, RI
    7/21/10

    William, the singer of Denver Boot,
    steps to the front of the stage area to announce “Tonight is Jessica’s
    last show with us.” Jessica Cahill, the band’s saw player, nods
    her head to the crowd as she takes her seat. Chris Owens stands at the
    ready with his mandolin. Alex Garzone from Voodoo Bevy is sitting in
    on the drums tonight. The first few songs are safe, standard classic
    country tunes. “Namesake” changes all of that—it is a wild
    almost bipolar song that jumps into up tempos, slows drastically, and
    ends on a slow somber tone. It sets up the country waltz “Losing
    Faith” perfectly. The band fades down again, leaving Chris playing
    a beautiful solo on his mandolin. The solo leads into “Blackheart,”
    a foot-stomping rock-a-billy singalong. The set ends with an old-fashioned
    barn-stomping hoedown jam. The only things missing would be a jug and
    washboard player.

    TJ Kelly, singer and guitarist of the
    Silks, walks up to the mic wearing a solid white tuxedo jacket, with
    a black bow tie, and solid black pants. Above his head is a mini disco
    ball that is sending shards of refracted light around the room. He smiles,
    and says”We are the Silks, and we are gonna play you some blues.”
    The first note barely rings out, before TJ breaks into a feverish dance.
    TJ reminds me of Alvin Lee, who is one of my favorite musicians. They
    break into “Walkin’ the Dog,” which I always felt was a
    pretty stale tune; I’m amazed how much life and energy they put into
    it. TJ starts up a Chuck Berry walk in midsong. “I’m going home,”
    he chuckles, leaving the stage still duck-walking. He makes it back
    to the stage, and, laughing, he says “I can do this all night,
    but you people will be tired, so we have one more for you.” “Dead
    Man Blues” gets the crowd moving. TJ jumps into the crowd, grabs
    a chair and watches his band play the rest of the song. The music finally
    stops. The best compliment comes from the sound guy, who in a
    moment of excitement yells out, “That was the most fun I’ve had.
    Fucking A, that was great.” I really can’t disagree. It was a great
    time.

    Voodoo Bevy comes to the stage, looking
    very defeated. They all look like they’d rather be somewhere else. Keith
    McCurdy, the singer, has a weird effect on his voice. It makes all of
    his vocals sound like a mosquito. The drums are way too loud, overpowering
    everybody else. The music is a decent alternative pop rock, which does
    dip into punk and doom rifts at times. Eric, the bass player from the
    Silks, joins them for a song. The last song was so heavily influenced
    by Black Sabbath that Tony Iommi should get a writing credit. It ends
    with ear-bleeding feedback that the band leaves as they exit the stage.
    (Melvin O)

    BRIAN DONNELLY & JEFF SAVLON Open Mic Shindig
    Gulu Gulu, Salem, MA
    7/14/10

    The atmosphere in the Gulu Gulu Cafe
    is thick with creativity. Performers from all around the North Shore
    are in attendance to put their names in the hat and try to get on stage.
    So many show up that there is a lottery system for the precious 30 spots
    available each open mic night. Brian Donnelly and Jeff Savlon do their
    best to host the mad event, keeping order while allowing everyone to
    have a fun time. The open mic regulars are all mulling about talking
    to each other about upcoming shows and what songs they are going to
    perform this evening. The Gulu is filled to capacity as usual, with
    a line out the door of those eagerly waiting to catch their favorite
    performers. It’s almost reminiscent of an old vaudeville act, with
    several of the regulars adding their own flair to the event, as well
    as hosts Brian and Jeff keeping the night going with their own little
    bits of humor and talent. The hallway to the bathroom is lined with
    about 20 guitars, and every single seat in the place is taken. The staff
    is hurriedly trying to fill food and beer orders as the bar is nearly
    overrun with people. This is truly the best spot to be in Salem every
    Wednesday night, perhaps even the whole North Shore. I’ve never seen
    so much talent in one cafe at once! (Patrick Fitzpatrick)

     

    CHELSEA BERRY, PETE LINDBERG
    House of Blues, Boston, MA
    6/24/10

    There’s no charge
    to walk in the front room of the House of Blues where two voices, one
    of each sex, demand dominance on one mic in perfect harmony over some
    guy named Jesus. It’s got the feel of an intense country hoedown.
    The guy is Pete Lindberg and he’s just finishing up his set. The female
    with a blond streak in her brown jaw-length hair is the 26 year-old
    Chelsea Berry. She transforms the stage to her own with a wave of players
    who one by one trickle up to join in. The crowded-seated audience is
    activated, frequently rising to their feet with applause between songs.
    Chelsea is complimented by another female voice of the cute tattooed
    Evie Gariepy. Wolf Ganeddes keeps an eye on his bass charts while Pete
    Copland is right on target with his drums and percussion. Last, and
    most impressive, is guitarist David Brown. Anything coming out of this
    guy’s Kramer Telecaster or Dobro gets my attention—he’s a master’s
    master with subtle intricacy and smooth proficiency. Still, Chelsea
    Barry’s belted vocals have control of this powerful blues/folk/country-rock
    show. I particularly like the innovative lead into “Dangerously High”
    and her duet of the bluesy “Running in Circles” with David Brown.
    The bulk of her audience, from nibblings to parents, bussed down from
    Gloucester for this special Boston CD release party. Her parents even
    made it from Alaska. The love in the room is flowing both ways as Chelsea
    continually makes note of individuals in attendance who have helped
    her get to this point in her quickly rising career. Such a sophisticated
    performance from a youthful talent is quite an experience.
    (T Max)

    GUT BUCKET, WITCH TOMB, RAMPANT
    DECAY

    KC’s Tap, Pawtucket, RI
    7/19/10


    Rampant Decay takes the stage.
    The first song is old-school thrash metal. They mix death, punk, and
    thrash seamlessly. Rich Horror, the singer, has the mic chord wrapped
    tightly around his neck as he screams each word. At a metal show, I’ve
    always found that the more fuzzy long-haired, jean-shirt-wearing pale
    kids head-banging the better. Using this scale, since more than half
    of the crowd is going to have sore necks in the morning, I’d say Rampant
    Decay is a hit.

    Witch Tomb opens with a very gothic
    keyboard song. The intro leads into a blisteringly fast metal song.
    The drums are loud, sounding like long machine gun blasts. If this were
    a cartoon, the guitarist’s fingers would be smoking. This has the basic
    building blocks that would raise mere mortals to metal god status. Then
    the singer comes in, ruining it all. He either references Satan, or
    point-blank yells his name, so much that it could be a new drinking
    game. “Hail Satan,” time to drink. “Our Dark Lord,”
    chug it down man. The intro was by far the highlight, the build up was
    intense, but the problem is, it never goes anywhere after that.

    The last band tonight is Gut Bucket,
    which is fronted by bassist/singer Kenny Rhule, formerly of Headrot.
    Ryan Weeden from the Douche Bags is the second rhythm bassist. The songs
    are very heavy. Having dual bassists gives it a really cool doom
    feel. One thing I think weird is that the songs seem to start and stop
    at odd places. One of the songs actually make me feel like they just
    started playing it halfway through it, just to see who would notice.
    Another seems like an unfinished thought. The music however is very
    melodic. I enjoy the set, despite the random breaks. Looking out
    into the ocean off frizzy hair being flown about, I’d say the metal
    kids agree. (Melvin O)


     


    ILL E GAL

    Upstairs Palladium, Worcester, MA
    6/26/10

    The upstairs of the Palladium is small
    and hot. I’m already in a very foul mood, because for some reason,
    I was denied a bar bracelet. I’m stone cold sober, but was seen drinking
    from a Sprite bottle, and according to the door man since he couldn’t
    verify that the bottle only contained soda, so he had to “protect
    me.” So now I’m crammed in a very small area, with about 200 overweight
    men, mostly shirtless, all sweating, wearing the face paint of their
    favorite psychopathic artist, and I’m beyond thirsty. Every few minutes
    a new Juggalo chant starts up, everybody is jumping around, getting
    rowdy, and I’m not the happiest of campers to say the least.

    The lights drop out, as a deep-bass-filled
    drum loop fills our ears. From the darkness walks out this small girl
    using a green bandana as a shirt, with huge bug-eyed sunglasses, and
    a head full of green and white dreadfalls. Ill E Gal tells everyone
    that she is so happy to be playing the Palladium for the first time.
    Her set consists of several danceable hip hop tracks, with catchy beats,
    and singalong lyrics. Her little nasally vocals fill the room, as she
    sways back and forth across the stage. Every few songs, a friend joins
    her on stage, lending a nice melodic background to the hooks. She has
    the crowd jumping, singing along, and shaking their sweaty asses off.
    After her set, she jumps off the stage into the crowd to sign autographs
    and talk to fans.

    I had just about forgotten how thirsty
    I was during her performance; she kept the show moving along, opening
    the club up for Axe Murder Boyz and Blaze Your Dead Homie to kill it.
    Which they did. (Melvin O)

     


    THE INCREDIBLE CASUALS
    The Beachcomber, Wellfleet, MA
    8/8/10

    It’s always fun taking the short
    hop down to the Cape to visit the Beachcomber, especially when it’s
    to see a band that has played there for the past 30 years! I kid you
    not. The Incredible Casuals are on stage when Anne and I finish our
    tanning down on the beautiful Atlantic Ocean beach and head up the 200
    foot sandy cliff. I spot the back of drummer Rikki Bates’ dress through
    the rear window as we hustle to get inside the club before “Picnic
    Ape” is done. “Picnic Ape,” the band’s second vinyl single was
    one of my favorite songs when it was originally released in 1982. I
    notice the sound guy is doing a lot more playful mixing than normal
    and find out that he’s mixed the band more times than he can count.
    Guitarist John Stampinato (from NRBQ) is stage left in his Hawaiian
    style shirt and offers the more gruff vocals. Stage right is guitarist
    Aaron Spade (the new guy in the band—he joined in ’88) dawning shades
    and a necktie and has a sweeter tenor. Center front is Chandler Travis
    the class clown with more emphasis on class than clown. They roll through
    originals and covers while the audience dances to every song. The look
    of the place in some way reminds me of the Beatles playing the Cavern
    with everyone boppin’ up and down—only this place has sand on the
    floor and the sweet fragrance of summer sweat. When the band takes a
    break they are treated like rock stars with everyone wanting to say
    hi and share their “Incredible” stories. It’s an honor to witness
    these four musicians deliver this incredible feat. (T Max)



    JOE FLETCHER, CAROLINE HECHT, BRIAN MINTO

    Tazza Caffe, Providence, RI
    6/23/10

    Joe Fletcher of the Wrong Reasons opens
    up this installment of the Whiskey Girl Wednesday Showcase. He
    walks onto the stage dressed in dark denim clothes and pointed leather
    boots, armed with just his acoustic guitar. He instantly owns the room,
    even before the first hauntingly soulful words leave his mouth. After
    a handful of solo material, a special guest, Lily Costner, joins him
    on stage. Lilly’s performance of “Every Heartbroken Man”
    leaves me stunned. Her vocals are so full of sadness that it is incredibly
    moving. Chris Owens hops up next; he comes and goes throughout the night
    bringing either a fiddle or a mandolin to the stage. Joe’s set ends
    with Brian Minto joining in, blasting away on his harmonica in an impromptu
    jam that fills the room with a warm energy. People are up and dancing.

    The very petite and pretty Caroline
    Hecht walks onto the stage wearing a sundress and a large electric guitar
    strapped across her chest. Her Joni Mitchell-esque vocals float through
    the air in a very depressing manner. She jokes that she is trying to
    get all the depressing songs out of the way early. Eric D joins her
    with smooth lines on his standup bass, but the tone of the songs never
    changes. The crowd slowly grows restless, and at times is louder than
    the band. I give Caroline credit for never once swaying from her set
    list—she just keeps plugging away.

    Brian Minto storms the stage looking
    like a deranged Muppet. A tight bandana barely holds back his overflowing
    head of hair, and the bushy beard is reminiscent of a young Jerry Garcia.
    He is thrown a quick roadblock when his very first strum breaks a guitar
    string. He laughs it off, saying, “I don’t need that, do I?” He
    opts to change guitars entirely after a few failed chord changes. Brian
    gives a few quick strums on the new guitar, then stops, smiles at the
    crowd, and explains how tonight he wants to interpret the progression
    of a relationship through song. He plays a few more bars, stops for
    a second to explain the natural progression is you meet someone, you’re
    happy in love, then when things start to go bad you have to kill them.
    Once Brian starts going, he is on fire. His set is short, but he definitely
    raises the energy level.

    Joe Fletcher’s second set starts
    out with Chris Owens on mandolin, and Alex Garzone on drums. This set
    rocks—the songs are faster than in the first set, and the players
    build off one another with intensity. Every special guest crams onto
    the small stage for the finale, “Too Many Doors.” It’s an audience
    favorite and they keep singing the catchy chorus, even after the band
    has stopped playing. (Melvin O)

    LIGHTNING BOLT, WHAT CHEER?
    BRIGADE

    The 201, Providence, RI
    7/26/10

    The lights are down in the 201, as
    I try to make my way to the stage. It is so dark I can barely see the
    people standing around me. Someone starts yelling to my left, as I turn
    my head to see what is going on, a trumpet explodes in my right ear.
    Dead Chop Chop, the person yelling, is one of the percussionists of
    What Cheer? Brigade, wears a hooded mask as he leads an almost endless
    marching band through the crowd. I try counting how many members and
    come up with 17, but it is impossible to say for sure, since none of
    the band stands still for longer than a second. The crowd looks so tribal,
    the way they move around, it looks like a collective orgasm brought
    on by the music. The band’s tempo is very fast: it’s punk rock played
    by a marching band. The only words are what ever Dead Chop Chop
    happens to yell into the crowd and he is constantly yelling. I’m
    not sure exactly what he is saying, but it brings the frenzy further.
    The band is running in and out of the crowd, forcing us to participate.
    A trombone slide is inches from my nose, as Samantha the cymbal player
    launches herself into the crowd, creating a mini slam dance pit. Annelise,
    a bass drum player, starts crowd surfing standing on her drum, never
    missing a beat. Neil, one of the trumpet players, is switching dance
    partners with every blink of the eye he has some one new. The music
    stops abruptly, I am soaked with sweat, and welcome this break between
    bands to get some air.

    I walk back in during Lightning Bolt’s
    second song. I am surprised to see that it is just two guys. Brian Chippendale
    plays the drums and provides the vocals, with Brian Gibson playing a
    bass strung with banjo strings. Brian’s vocals are on a distorted
    delay and the music is very early Godflesh with a healthy dose of the
    early pop side of Nine Inch Nails. The bass is the standout driving
    force of each song. The banjo strings, definitely give the music a distinct
    sound. The bass is very wild over the mechanized industrial drums; the
    delayed vocals are very spacey. All the parts seem random, almost ill-fitting
    at times, but work as a whole.

    Outside the club, Dead Chop Chop is
    hosting a drum off, between random people on the street. A few people
    stop to drum their hearts out, the crowd judges them with cheers. It
    comes down to a battle of two cities, Providence vs. Boston. A final
    drum off is needed to decide who wins the title of best street drummer.
    Boston does her best, but Providence takes the title. Dead Chop Chop
    thanks us all, saying the cops have been nice to let us hang and have
    fun, but it’s time to go home.
    (Melvin O)

     


    ERIN HARPE & THE DELTA SWINGERS

    American Legion Park, Georgetown, MA
    8/15/10

    Missy Erin Harpe done this here show
    by her lonesome many moons ago and I was rightly dumbfounded by the
    old musics she’d done recrated. Was she really birthed in the back
    of a Mississippi delta shack? Since then she be vibratin’ with
    the D-Swingin’ bass man Jim, Rosey suckin’ mouth harp, and keepin’
    time Bob. It’s a perty day and the four of thems is loungin’ on
    the outdoor wooden shed, ’cept for Rosey who just gotsta stand. The
    mixin’ of the sounds through the e-lectronic speaker system is just
    ear pleasin’ as a whippoorwill, an’ I come to expect that from dear
    Henry (More Sound Company of Jaffrey, NH—he done asked fer that there
    plug). Missy Erin be firmly singin’ an’ twangin’ the ol’ style
    finger pickin’ her daddy done taught her. Her cowboy boots er bouncin’
    and her polka dots dance with every breeze as the boys make rhythm to
    Memphis Mini’s “Be My Chauffeur.” The sexual finesse stays proper
    to this gatherin’ of child to granmammy. But I reckon Miss Erin could
    swell up a tidal wave if she beed desirin’. Keepin’ time Bob’s
    backgroun’ singin’ hits the head whether he be manly or pretty soundin’.
    Offstage Bob has a mind to humor me, sayin’ he plays in Likewhip—we’re
    not as good as Lovewhip. I be explainin’ Lovewhip is here Miss Erin
    and Mr. Jim’s e-lectronic booty boundin’ bumpin’ music band. The
    Delta Swinger gang snaps out a Lovewhip of “Vertual Booty Machine”—only
    they done bluesified it. Before “Fishin Blues” Erin claims she came
    to realize the song meanin’ was ’bout equal rights of each here
    sex to go fishin’, but never knowed what fishin’ was ’bout when
    her daddy done taught her the tune—remember she was still on his knee.
    I still recon it’s all too fishy for me to be figgerin’. I just
    like the dancin’ polka dots and the way the Swingers crank like my
    pappy’s pappy. Y’all come back now. (Timmy Max)


    DEATH BY FAME, THE ICE CREAM TRUCKS, THE NORTH LOT, MARK MANDEVILLE
    & RIANNE RICHARDS, JOHN COLVERT

    Weekly Dig Showcase
    Harpers Ferry, Allston, MA
    6/30/10

    John Colvert starts up the night. Tonight
    feels like a lazy summer evening, but John and his band waste no time
    diving right into their set which is heavily dosed with Americana and
    folk influences. His songs are poignant and his delivery is sincere.
    He’s backed by a great band that features Noel Coakley, a prominent
    member of the New England Americana scene and a newcomer on drums, Rick
    Cranford. Rick, from Seattle, Washington, recently relocated to Massachusetts
    and holds his own quite nicely up to this stellar line-up of musicians.
    John Colvert and crew set the stage and raise the bar high; it’s going
    to be a great night.

    John Colvert wraps up his set and the
    duo of Rianne Richards and Mark Mandeville takes the stage. Though this
    couple is essentially two thirds of the band the Accident That Led Me
    to the World, it is clear tonight they do not represent that entity,
    playing more traditional bluegrass, folk and blues. Donning an acoustic
    guitar, a ukulele and a small flute, the music is beautifully intimate
    and sparse. The room is quiet as the pair amazes the crowd with their
    exceptional harmonies and melodic reach. It’s a lovely set, but by
    the end, I’m ready for some heavier, louder music. Fortunately, the
    North Lot complies.

    They put together a raucous set that
    features the theme to That ’70s Show as a cover as well as a mashup
    of modern-day rap songs set to a fun funky beat, delivered with an in-your-
    face attitude which to be honest, nails it. It’s a great set, and
    even though it’s a Wednesday night, the crowd is starting to loosen
    up and get into it.

    The Ice Cream Trucks is a band relatively
    new to the Boston scene. Tonight they drove up from the South Shore
    ready to hand out treats top all the kids. Fortunately their tunes aren’t
    cold but red hot and very refreshing. Easily, the most eclectic group
    of the night, the line-up of the Ice Cream Trucks consist of a mandolin,
    xylophone, acoustic guitar and various percussion, the most prominent
    of which is a cahone drumbox. The band does and amazing version of Dinosaur
    Jr’s “Feel the Pain” and the crowd clusters in towards the stage
    to check out this unique line-up. Singer Jimmy Talbot does an excellent
    job belting out tune after tune. This is a band to watch.

    Closing out the night is Death by Fame,
    who won the “honor” of headlining on a Wednesday night. These guys
    take it in stride and put on a dazzling show of Green Day meets AC/DC
    rock ’n’ roll. They have it all: an energetic stage show, a look
    that is professional but at the same time cutting-edge as well as songs
    with memorable hooks and catchy choruses. But best of all, this power
    trio even has what most bands only dream about: hot girls watching them!
    A note to the beautiful brunette in the skin-tight white mini dress:
    my friend Tim wants your number. (Kier Byrnes)


    JAY ALLEN & THE ARCH-CRIMINALS, THE FURIOUSITY
    Baseball Tavern, Boston MA 7/9/10

    Typically, there’s some doubt and
    suspicion about the first band, resulting in the typical audience reaction:
    they ignore them! But in one of the quickest turnarounds I’ve ever
    witnessed, the Furiousity makes some converts after only about two songs.
    The lowdown is simple—it’s four girls and one guy, a handful of
    chords, and a whole lotta tempo and volume. Alternate description: the
    Dead Kennedys with female vocals. And such vocals they are! Quivering
    and shivering with vibrato, it’s very nearly yodeling! They also bring
    youth to the table, which always benefits punk rock by adding energy,
    sincerity and belief in the form. There is one funny bit of incongruity,
    though: while the Furiousity sound very angry, on the other hand, you’ll
    find them selling homemade stuffed animals at their merch table! Favorite
    new band for sure.

    Next on the hit list are Jay Allen
    & the Arch-Criminals, adding a little creative diversity to the
    otherwise full-tilt punk rock conventions. In the Queen’s English,
    that’s simply seasoning the mix with folk, garage, blues and other
    musical stylings. As I’m so accustomed to Jay’s material played
    solo acoustic from years of hearing it that way, it’s still a fresh
    pleasure hearing it done up in full band mode. So much of a pleasure,
    in fact, that one (me) wants some more of it—new songs, that is. I
    can see Jay nervously looking around for a subterfuge to help distract,
    and he pulls out the very subterfuginous Miss Vikki Sixx for a few cover
    tunes… but this can only distract for so long. Okay, it can distract
    one (me) for many years if given the chance, but I still want new songs,
    dammit! Or at least some old ones I haven’t heard in awhile (“Frying
    Pan Justice” for a start). (Frank Strom)

    STEVE CARAWAY’s Open Mic
    Dogbar, Gloucester
    MA
    7/13/10

    The lights are low
    and the Dogbar is filled with the unmistakable sound of Steve Caraway
    playing his opening set. Steve is a solo power-pop artist heavily influenced
    by Elvis Costello. After his set, he opens up the stage to the regular
    cast of characters who show up every week for the open mic. Along with
    several familiar faces, there are also the few random folks who occasionally
    come from far and wide just to play at the Dogbar. It’s a night filled
    with several different genres ranging from acoustic folk to the occasional
    rock band and even some spoken word in between. Steve takes care of
    all the equipment and sound settings, so all you have to worry about
    is showing up with your instrument. The bar and patio are filled with
    happy drinkers and it’s a wonderful way to spend a Tuesday evening
    in Gloucester. (Patrick Fitzpatrick)



    ARAB ON RADAR, TINSEL TEETH, WHOREPAINT

    AS220, Providence, RI
    7/10/10

    This is the first sold
    out show I have seen at AS220 in over 20 years. It’s way too crowded
    for me, but it is quite a bill. Whorepaint comes out to destroy, wailing
    away like the Swans before launching into a noise rock suicide serenade.
    Whorepaint has more energy than Three Mile Island is hotter than the
    sun.

    Tinsel Teeth comes
    out with shirts off and blood flowing. How much of the blood is real?
    I don’t know. I do know they turn the room into a sweatlodge, with
    ruptured eardrums and spleens. Imagine Wendy O. Williams with a Providence
    noise band backing her up and you have the modern sound abortionists
    known as Tinsel Teeth. A crazy good performance.

    If Mother Theresa came
    back from the dead, I doubt the line would be as long as it was for
    Arab On Radar, and not as many people would have passed out and had
    epiphanies. With singer Eric Paul looking more and more like Curly of
    the
    Three Stooges, AOR sounds like a record skipping on the
    right groove. Who knew four men in matching blue dickies with songs
    about getting raped by gym teachers would write history with lightning?
    An amazing, albeit brief, performance from one of the greatest Providence
    bands in the history of the universe. Let’s put Mike Mountain and
    Arab On Radar’s Eric on a bill together and see who is the best frontman
    in New England, and who gets thrown in an asylum first. (Eric Baylies)

    BABY STRANGE
    Reunion Show

    The Middle East Upstairs, Cambridge, MA
    7/10/10

    Tonight is the second
    night of Baby Strange reunion shows at the Middle East Up. I don’t
    think I’ve ever been this excited for a local music show—ever. This
    evening, the band is playing their EP,
    The
    Make-Out Sessions
    (2002) and
    their full-length album
    Put
    Out
    (2004) for another huge
    audience. To see the excitement of the crowd both last night and tonight,
    it’s obvious that this band has been sorely missed. With only two
    weeks practice, Eric Deneen (lead vocals), Ryan Ennis (drums), Jamie
    Brown (rhythm guitar), Tim Hare (bass), and Johnny Zaremba (“fill-in”
    lead guitarist, formerly of Say When) makes it look way too easy. The
    music is honest, intense, sexy and danceable. The crowd adores them
    and I love what I see. I gain a new appreciation for the songs I heard
    years before and I anxiously await another “reunion” show—sooner
    than later. (Kathy Gaalaas)

    SAM ADAMS, FLYRYDAZ, COLIN McLAUGHLIN
    The House of Blues, Boston, MA
    7/16/10

    The long line stretches
    down the street and I immediately notice it’s packed with teenage
    girls waiting for a night of local rappers who are making names for
    themselves on the national level. McLaughlin, a Boston University student
    and pop-rapper does a short set and opens with “Back to The Wall”
    and “Knockout” and plays his hit “Airplanes” to a packed house
    who sing along with all his lyrics. The pop orchestration in his raps
    make the songs listenable and memorable. The Flyrydaz, three local guys,
    raises the energy level and again it’s cool watching three tiers of
    bare legs in skirts singing the words to all the raps with their hands
    collectively waving in the air. There’s a lot going on during their
    set. Besides being very energetic and jumping around non-stop as they
    rap and then talk to the crowd, the audience responds very well as the
    excitement increases. Then the DJ du jour plays a neat re-mix cover
    of “She Hates Me” by Puddle of Mudd. And the place responds accordingly.

    When Massachusetts
    native, 22 year old Trinity College senior Sam Adams hits the stage,
    the place goes wild. Currently, Sam has the most played melodies on
    iTunes and the crowd goes beserk; loudly verbalizing their anticipation
    of his performance. He professionally seduces the masses with his mix
    of electronic pop and hip-hop. Raps like “Coast To Coast,” “I
    Hate College,” “Driving Me Crazy,” and the new tune “Jets Over
    Boston,” all done with a live percussionist/ drummer and a bassist
    onstage with him just keep pushing the notch even higher. And when Sam
    runs around mid-set smugly smirking “Fuck the Lakers” while wearing
    a number 20 Allen Celtics shirt, this local throng
    loves
    it and screams in approval. This kid’s got a ton of talent, works
    the crowd
    very well and he’s local and loves it. Listen to these acts—they have a lot
    to say. (A.J. Wachtel)



    BULLETBREED

    Morey’s Tavern, Maynard, MA
    6/26/10

    Okay, a free two-hour
    show featuring my favorite band? No fucking way do I miss this! The
    band plays a two-hour mix of covers and their own material. Drummer
    Bowie pounds a deafening beat for the others to follow, and fists pump
    the air with every note. Lead singer Conor is a beast on the mic, and
    if it weren’t for the enclosed space, the pit would be in full swing
    before the third song. The crowd’s on its feet for much of the set,
    shouting out songs for the band and showing much love to a foursome
    that put everything they have into their music. Jeff on guitar and Naze
    on bass round out the group. It’s a show that never once loses its
    momentum. (Max Bowen)

    MARIA MONK, CHRIS ROSENQUEST
    The 201, Providence, RI
    7/11/10

    The 201 is very dark, a no glamour
    type of club. It has a very simple set up, a bar with several unusual
    beers on tap, a few tables, couches, and a great big space for the bands
    to play. Tonight, it seems the bands are playing to each other, and
    the few stragglers, myself included, that happen to wander in off the
    street.

    A very tall, skinny, bearded man walks
    up to the mic. He doesn’t announce that he is Chris Rosenquest; he
    just plays a quick ditty on an acoustic guitar. The small ditty starts
    to play back on a continuous loop. For the rest of the show every song
    starts out this way, with Chris constantly adding to the loop, until
    it sounds like a full band playing behind him. He stops to tell about
    the splinter that ruined his life. No matter how hard everyone tried,
    they couldn’t get the splinter free from his foot. Finally, disgusted
    with dealing with it, in severely disgruntled mood, he heads to the
    ER. At the ER, a very burly male nurse corners him, promising if he
    behaves and acts like a big boy, he will get a Dora the Explorer sticker.
    As the laughter dies down, Chris breaks into a beat box, this is the
    basis for the last song’s loop. It builds up quickly into a song which
    I can easily see would have been a dance-along if more people were there.

    This is Maria Monk’s second show
    ever. Pete, the bass player, and Mark, one of the guitarists, formerly
    of Brother Kite, stand to the back of the stage. Christian, the lead
    singer and second guitarist, stands center stage. Christian is a ball
    of energy, kicking his legs, beating up his guitar, jumping around the
    stage; at times he ends up several feet away from the vocal mic. The
    songs are very rhythmic, the music is extremely tight. The lyrics
    are definitely for the intellectual. Christian jumps back toward the
    amp; as the feedback starts, he harnesses it, directs it, and integrates
    it into the song. This is the best display of using feedback I’ve
    heard since Neil Young’s “Arc.” “Ender’s Game” quickly becomes
    my favorite song of the set. It has a very playful Modest Mouse
    feel. The last song starts out fast in a massive chaotic explosion that
    slowly tightens up, only to explode again, leaving Christian rocking
    back and forth on the ground hugging his guitar to his chest. (Melvin
    O)

    OTHELLO
    Shakespeare on the Common, Boston, MA
    8/11/10

    I am writing this review out of a sincere
    love for Shakespeare. On the way to the Common from The School of Groove
    in Cambridge, I saw a fellow get hit by a car on Cambridge Ave., and
    get twisted into something funky, a cartoon really, but on with the
    show! Thanks to J for saving me a sweet spot on the rough directly behind
    the tall chair section!

    Sparse staging, but visually commanding,
    with a cagy box for lighting. It was modern, very functional, but visually
    jarring in size and perspective to the intimate musings tucked neatly
    into the play behind doors and wedded embattlements. This is probably
    the first time I have ever said “Less is more,” but the colors of
    cold steel and early 20th-century military garb are becoming
    an institutional yet cost-effective drag on American productions of
    Shakespeare.

    Desdemona, you seemed like you had
    more fun as Ariel, but well-played under the given weather—those lights
    are hot! You delivered baby, but that was a vanilla take on what could
    have been chocolate ice cream. Your color scheme (deliberate?) visually
    identifying you icily apart from others in a very Neapolitan fashion.
    I have to admit I laughed aloud in your final throes of death, and I
    hope you were having as much fun on the inside! You really worked to
    convince Othello of your love, but alas your fate has been determined.
    Bravo!

    The chap who played Iago seemed a little
    sullen and detached from the cunningness usually poured into the vessel
    of that dagger. He seemed to inhabit the role best when that much-beloved
    villain had best keep his mouth shut, superbly mimed in moments of mortal
    terror following the fall of Cassio. In your more revealing moments,
    the droning off-kilter pedal-point did you no help whatsoever. I found
    that the better played Rodrigo seemed to rush an attempted brooding
    Iago; have fun with those dynamics! The (accidental?) stutter in the
    second act could have been played up to a superb suit-insulated stammer.
    It made me think though, by coming off so squeamishly, Othello’s presence
    and temper rang out with greater definition by comparison, thoughts?

    Othello, you picked up a considerable
    amount of steam and respect from both the audience and your crew proportionate
    to the amount of energy you delivered to the performance. Your early
    hints of a raging Calibanesque Othello got me thinking, but you were
    too busy playing nice at court. Your relative soft-spokenness in the
    first act later was balanced by some adrenaline fueled moments, like when
    you patiently wheeled your sleeping wife to her birdbath of doom. I was
    going to say this about Desdemona, but she was asleep during your most
    intimate proscenium moments with her: the lack of romantic sparks seemed
    to be from thy issue General. At ease man! (Trevor Doherty)


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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 in the Noise. It’s logistically impossible for us to honor or acknowledge these requests. Noise writers are their own bosses and review the shows they choose to attend. The Noise has always had its ears close to the ground in Greater Boston and now we’re spreading out our reviews all over New England. If your band is doing something even remotely exceptional, we’ll be the first to tell the world. If you’re horrible, same thing. Interested in writing live reviews? Email
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