Photo by Stephanie Hierholzer
RUBYHORSE, KINGSIZE, ELCODRIVE
The Paradise 1/31/03
As soon as Elcodrive start their set, they begin to offend me. First of all, they look like Barbie dolls, all dressed up in Guess clothing which has apparently been graciously donated to the boys as part of a sponsorship deal. Embarrassing as this is to look at, the music makes the outfits look dignified. Elcodrive plays a set of insipidly hyper-sincere pop calculated to make high school girls swoon at their proms. Their sound is so far in the middle of the road that I figure they’ll be flattened by a speeding semi if they don’t look both ways until they get whiplash. Discernible influences appear to be Bryan Adams and John Cougar Mellencamp, and if that doesn’t scare the shit out of you, go see this band! This is Elcodrive’s CD listening party, and a handful of fans are nodding along with the spewing pap, mainly young female fans that seem to find singer Marc Golarz dreamy.
Now if you want to talk dreamy, give me Adrian Holz any day. I see I’m not alone in this sentiment, because Kingsize brings people out of the woodwork and suddenly the place has some rock ‘n’ roll energy. Kingsize knows how to be big, really big, and it works for them on songs like “More Than I Can Stand,” “Little Too Lovely,” and “Sunshine.” But there’s a duality to Kingsize’s music that I put down to Adrian’s Swedish roots. Their set loses steam when they launch into cheesy pop songs like “All The Way From Nowhere” and “She Said.” I can only figure that, growing up in Europe, Adrian was a little too exposed to the sappy pop that Europeans seem to embrace, but leaves Americans shaking our heads at its corniness. When Kingsize is “on,” they put on a seriously mesmerizing show, but they need to stay focused on the big rock, and get away from the more hackneyed sounding stuff if they’re going to be convincing to a rock audience.
Rubyhorse simply bores me. After exploding into their set with a big U2-type first song, the life drains out of them and leaves me looking around for something to do to amuse myself until it’s over. Fortunately, my friends have the same reaction, so we leave. Sweet. (Laura Slapikoff)
JAKE BRENNAN
Toad 1/26/03
Whatever that indefinable “it” is that some folks are born with and that few will ever attain, that special something that makes a crowd fall silent in attentive awe with eyes locked on a performer, that quality that makes all one’s cares and troubles disappear for the length of a set of songs, Jake Brennan’s got in spades. I’ve been catching Jake just about every chance I get for the past two years both solo and with his band, The Confidence Men, because he’s one of the very few people I’ve ever seen who can make a packed room fall dead silent with just his voice and an acoustic guitar. In that time he’s matured from a warm, Elvis Costello-inspired vocal style to an original sounding rough-hewn croon, and his guitar playing has become a showcase for walking bass lines, solo fills and excellent rhythm work. Tonight he plays two long sets of original material and even has the audacity to cover Big Star’s “Thirteen,” The Stones’ “Gimmie Shelter,” Lefty Frizzell’s “Long Black Veil,” and Dylan’s “Million Miles From You” and make them sound entirely his own-no mean feat. It’s Superbowl Sunday and there are only eight people (including the bartender) in attendance, but good for me-I stretch out in a booth and watch Jake’s dad, the inimitable Dennis Brennan, casually sing backup vocals from his barstool when the mood strikes him. Superb. (Mike Baldino)
MAPPARI, AVERI
The Paradise 1/31/03
The marquee lists the show as being sold out. Damn, that’s an impressive feat for a national act, let alone an all local bill. I miss the opening band, Labb, but have heard great things about them. Mappari, on the other hand, I know very well and I’m lucky enough to catch one of their best sets to date. Solid pop tinted with heavy powerful riff rock has the crowd’s attention. A large cluster of females churn in front of the stage looking up at Will Dailey admiringly. The band is busting out a lot of new songs which seem to go well with the audience. Like most of the Mappari songs, each tune is very radio friendly, complete with big catchy choruses and meaty hooks.
Things take a turn for me when headliner, Averi, takes the stage. After two songs, my date declares she hates them and tells me she has to leave. Her description of Averi is “one of the most boring, bland, unoriginal bands that I have ever seen, representing the worst of local music.” I have to mention in Averi’s defense, she was kind of a bitch and I stayed back to fulfill my Noise reporting duties. Though not exactly my style of music, it seems like the masses love these guys, eating up their Phil Collins/ Dave Matthews vibe. I’ve got a high threshold for all kinds of music but when they started doing bad ’80s covers, like Tears for Fears’ “Everybody Wants to Rule the World,” I too had to exit the building. (Kier Byrnes)
GODBOXER, ARMY OF JASONS
The Linwood 2/7/03
I could’ve sworn that there were more Jasons in Army of Jasons than just singer/guitarist Geoff Hayton but as I enter The Linwood, he is the only one on stage playing. It seems that there was a miscommunication tonight causing AOJ’s bass player to arrive late. It’s unclear as to why Army of Jasons couldn’t have switched spots with the headliner, Godboxer, but instead, Hayton handles the situation professionally and performs solo, giving a Cliff’s Notes version of what Army of Jasons is about ñ melodic, poppy songs with strong vocals accompanied by a bleakness and bitterness in the lyrics. When the rest of the Jasons arrive, they rush the stage, plug in, and launch head first into what’s left of their set. They come off as a Beatles and Byrds tandem, with Hayton and Brett Rosenberg nailing the many harmonies throughout their songs. Everything is well crafted from the song structures to the bass lines to the lyrics. It’s an abbreviated set but Army of Jasons delivers under duress.
Things must be running late, because Godboxer gets up and starts playing faster than I could grab a couple sixteen ounce PBRs from the bar. Specializing in heavy and melodic pop songs that tend to lack anything that is catchy or memorable, Godboxer remind me of Goo Goo Dolls meets The Sheila Divine. But without the hooks. Their songs fade from memory as quickly as one ends and the next begins. After each song the band receives a spattering of applause from the increasingly thinning crowd. The room is probably emptying because (a) we got eleven inches of snow today and (b) the bulk of this crowd came to see Army of Jasons and left at the end of their set. There are a few interesting things happening towards the end of Godboxer’s set but my attention and that of the crowd is elsewhere now. (Richie Hoss)
THE KENMORES
Bill’s Bar 1/16/03
The place is pretty damn full despite the fact that one of the bands on the bill canceled and after a delayed start, The Kenmores leap up on stage. They show no mercy as they take the bull by the horns, kicking out some old school punk rock cover tunes. It’s a high energy pace and I wonder if these guys will be able to pull out the whole set without someone dropping. The Kenmores are no spring chickens, but they rock as hard as any angst-filled teenage punk I have ever seen. I only recognize a couple of tunes; if I hadn’t known better I would think they were all kick ass originals. After the show I run up and grab the set list off the stage to check out what songs they played so I can add the original versions of these tunes to my CD collection soon. The Kenmores put on one hell of a show. (Kier Byrnes)
AQUEDUCT (name change: The Silent Wheel), TIGER SAW, COWGIRL HANGOVER
The Milky Way 2/6/03
TRIPLE THICK, LAST STAND, THE ACTION
Abbey Lounge 2/8/03
If you’re looking for an MTV friendly pop punk band right here in town, look for The Action. They’re a poppy, punky, fast, and cute three piece. And they have tattoos on their necks and gel in their hair. TRL, here they come. I feel like I’m looking at Good Charlotte. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. If these kids find themselves in the right place at the right time, they’re a good bet to get snagged up by some sleazeball fast talker and marketed up the ladder for a few months. They’re completely easy to listen to and after one trip through the chorus of any of their songs, you’re singing along.
I like rock ‘n’ roll music and so does the next band, Last Stand. The first part of the set is deep in Boston punk rock like The USM but with a real heavy Chuck Berry influence, which makes for some real fast, catchy rock ‘n’ roll. The gravelly vocals backed by bluesy bass lines and rippin’ drum work make this band one to see again and again. Midway through the set, where the tone shifts to a more straight ahead punk rock style, it is clear that this band is kicking ass tonight. Last Stand never lets up and each song is either a rocker or a stomper. The bridge between band and audience is erased during the last song in a touching sequence of events. The PA kicks out leaving only the drums still audible. No guitar, no bass, no mics. But there are vocals, and just not on stage-the audience takes the ball and finishes singing the song themselves before the PA comes back to life for the last chorus.
Local mainstays, Triple Thick, have to follow Last Stand tonight, which is going to be tough. But Triple Thick jumps right out with their Boston rock ‘n’ roll. Most of the crowd came to see Last Stand tonight so the room is only half full now. But that means they’re missing songs like “Lookin’ for a Nice Girl,” a rocker with a classic vibe to it. In fact, there’s a lot about Triple Thick that’s classic, to the singer with The Bags T-shirt to the fact that they sound like The Troggs came back and picked up The Beatles along the way. Lots of pop, rock, and sing-a-long choruses. Can’t blame ’em for being catchy. They get a little sloppy and make some mistakes, but it’s the end of the night and we’ve all been drinking. They close their set with a bunch of covers, but it’s “Lookin’ for a Nice Girl” that I’m humming as I wander out of The Abbey. (Richie Hoss)
DOS NOUN & ICON THE MIC, THE WITNESS PROTECTION PROGRAM, DJ LOBSTA & DJ JAYCEEOH
Club Embassy 1/22/03
Some friends are heading over to see a hip hop night at Axis on Lansdowne St. Intrigued by the experience, I tag along wondering how the other half lives. It being my first local hip hop concert, I wonder what it will be like. I’m hoping things are going to be like the typical hip hop videos they show on BET and MTV; a gang of thugs and P Diddy wannabes sporting the “bling bling,” surrounded by a horde of scantily clad ladies. Unfortunately, the crowd is actually nothing like that at all. The crowd is pretty diverse, peppered with a lot of Eminem clones, dudes with dreadlocks, and white chicks with really baggy pants. Sadly, the fifteen dollar cover, two dollar coat check, and six dollar beers leave my wallet hurting. I guess the rap world is indeed all about da money.
The first act I catch is Dos Noun & Icon the Mic, who are basically a duo with one guy playing records while another guy shouts over them trying to stir up the crowd. Basically, there is a lot of that “Put your hands up in the air” crap. I can’t really decide whether this is a creative art form or just karaoke gone bad. The one dude with the mic is now totally emulating Eminem, perhaps having seen the movie Eight Mile one too many times. Will the real Slim Shady please stand up?
The next act is a seven-piece and though they also have someone scratching turntables in the background, they play all the music on their own instruments. Their music is upbeat and fun, and they seem way more into playing than theatrics. I dig these guys a lot better than the earlier act. Like most rap, the music is engaging with call and response, but also carries a strong groove the audience can nod to the beat and chill to. The two front men exchange rhymes back and forth with amazing speed and delicate precision leading me to believe that all good rappers were good at tongue-twisters when they were kids.
It’s back to no instruments for the next part of the show. Two guys, DJ Lobsta & DJ Jayceeoh with two turntables each, set up across from each other as if it were a duel, playing assorted break beats while spinning records back and forth. What it amounts to is a ton of record scratching that makes the room sound as if it’s being invaded by a giant zipper, or there was a super-amplified pair of corduroy pants walking down the hall. All in all, hip hop night cost me a ton of dough. I had enough, get me back to the Abbey Lounge. Worldpeace! (Kier Byrnes)
DANA MIER
The Paradise 2/1/03
Dana Mier, a new female singer/songwriter, is bounding onstage in the middle slot between a boring acoustic set by a member of Dispatch and the frat rockers Virginia Coalition. Dana takes the stage with a four-piece band, brandishing an acoustic guitar, and an altered Rolling Stones T-Shirt that sums up the attitude of the set. The band takes off in a rocking direction that turns a majority of the crowd away from their beers. Though she meddles with the folk and country end of the songwriting canon on a few songs, this woman is willing to drop pretense and rock out. The crowd responds with unheard of enthusiasm for a band that is essentially new to the scene. A few fists get raised in the sign of the metal devil horns. People flock to the lobby to grab some CD samples and meet Dana after the set. (Jerome Leslie)
PHANTOM LIMB, HELD UNDER, SHADOWS OF THE UNSEEN
Boston’s Dead
O’Briens 2/6/03
The Arctic cold outside serves as a perfect backdrop for this month’s installment of Boston’s Dead at O’Brien’s. Tonight it’s an all Black/Death Metal lineup.
Kicking off the heresy is New Bedford’s Shadows of The Unseen. This fantastic lineup sounds like a devastating storm in the depths of Valhalla. Their compositions resemble chaotic forces of nature in their structure and execution. Lightning-echo-crackle thunder-rumble-bass-staccato runs into demonic-gargle-vocals above hellpit-volcanic-drum-chaos molten-rock-guitar riffs. Iron Maiden meets Venom meets Cradle of Filth. Definitely Black Metal all the way. The singer’s body is gesticulating, bent tensely as he channels dark forces and the band rages behind him. They provide a fitting invocation for this dark rite. This is world class Death Metal.
Next comes the Deathcore stylings of Held Under. Driven by one of the best double-kick drummers in the region, these guys are like an Apache attack ‘copter cutting a swath across an enemy target. The guitars are cruel and sludgy, full of a misery that would be inexpressible with words. But the lead singer is trying anyway, gargling horror one minute and going quasi-Mike Patton the next. His vocal range is echoed by the whole band as they shift gears from fire and brimstone doom into an almost pop-Deathcore song called “Left With Wreckage.” By the end of their set, it’s obvious these guys have a broad musical range and one of the meanest metal ìgallops since the early ’80s. I’m still trying to grasp this ability for range when they jump into a cover of Anthrax’s “Indians.” It brought a tear to this aging metalhead’s eye.
Phantom Limb couldn’t have been more aptly named. The guitarist/vocalist and drummer were up there on O’Brien’s stage without any bassist or rhythm guitarist in sight. Like a person missing limbs. Yes, we’re witnessing a two-piece Death Metal unit, and it’s inspiring. At times, you could see the two musicians anticipating the actions of musicians that weren’t there, but after a time, their performance becomes an exercise in adaptability and evolution. They’re hardwired together and they’re roaring through their set. It’s like the drummer and guitarist are experiencing the same abandonment issues, and that bond is fueling their performance. This duet is pulling off some of the heaviest stuff we’ve seen tonight in this roomful of world class musicians, and the audience is loving it. They don’t want them to leave the stage, but the Coors Light sign goes on and that’s the end of another Boston’s Dead at O’Brien’s. (Joe Hacking)
ALL EYES ON, TWO STEPS TO INFINITY, BLACKLINE, CANNON
T.T. The Bears 1/23/03
All Eyes On is really a great name for this band. The way they rock, it’s hard to keep your eyes off them. It doesn’t hurt that their lead singer, Anna, looks like a Norwegian goddess who can hammer out notes as if she were Thor. The confidence in her voice is as strong as ever, but it’s almost a shock to hear how soft and gentle it also can be as she banters with the crowd between songs. However, the group as a whole seems to be lacking the energy they had the last time I saw them at TTs. Regardless, the set ends strong and I’m left gasping for more, which is good because Two Steps To Infinity are up next.
It’s the CD release party of Two Steps To Infinity and the place is jammed. These guys have a lot in common with All Eyes On; they’re also a balls to the wall rock outfit with a kick-ass female frontman. The songs are tight and the set builds nicely, with each song outshining the song before. The crowd is eating it up. The folks in Two Steps couldn’t look happier or more comfortable as they peer out over the crowd. It’s one hell of a rock show and the set seems like it ends too quickly. I wonder who is up next.
I’ve never heard of Blackline, though it looks like they were bused in from Revere. Four dudes, two wearing black tank tops and two wearing white button downs, play the worst jock rock this side of a Patriots tailgate party. The lead singer, who happens to be using an earpiece monitor, is inadvertently doing some of the lamest rock poses I have ever seen. I try to keep from laughing aloud hysterically as fellow Noise writer Richie Hoss tears these guys apart. They are so cheesy, it almost becomes entertaining. Almost.
The last band up is Cannon, who throws a curve into the hard rockin’ theme of the night by dishing up some pretty well presented indie rock. There’s a pretty high level of musicianship in this band and I have to give credit to frontman/lead guitarist, Tim O’Connor for putting it together. Tim has been part of the Boston music scene for years, but this is his first band and I must say, it’s pretty good. Part REM, part Sheila Divine, I even got a little STP vibe in the sense that the music has its share of muscle. I find out after the show that the band’s bass player is leaving the group. Too bad, as these guys show a lot of potential- but I’m sure they’ll be back in some form or another. (Kier Byrnes)
HELD UNDER
O’Brien’s 2/6/03
Ever walk into a club and immediately know that you’ve just wasted five bucks? This Thursday night at O’Brien’s appears to be headed in that pointless hardcore/ metal direction. There are too many telling signs. The entire crowd consists primarily of males in dark, hooded sweatshirts with baseball caps jammed down on their heads who are eagerly anticipating Godsmack’s next release. Held Under waits for the previous band to completely clear off the stage before they can start setting up their most important piece of equipment-their fifteen foot white banner. After thirty minutes of Held Under hanging banners and setting up double bass drum kits with more cymbals and brass than a marching band, I notice that the lead guitarist has been quietly standing on stage for the last fifteen minutes, wanking on his very pointy guitar, practicing fret board tapping and other guitar hero techniques. By now, I’m positive that the lead singer (complete with Metallica back patch) is going to get up and deep throat the mic while grunting for thirty minutes. And that is exactly what happens. It’s not so much that the music is bad. But it is just monotonous, boring, unimaginative and simplistic. It’s music for people who think Superbowl commercials are funny. The demonic screaming and the overdriven Pantera style guitars make this band go the way of their banner – crashing to the floor, which is really too bad since it took so long to hang. (Richie Hoss)
THE FERNS
The Compound (Fitchburg, MA) 1/23/03
I’m back at the place that’s big on atmosphere, small on sound. That is why I’m positioned (groupie-like) near the biggest speaker. Okay, the band’s not bad to look at either. These Umass Amherst students are back in their old neighborhood. Why there aren’t more people here is beyond me. The Ferns are better than I would have expected. Two songs in particular stand out. “Spend the Night” is a catchy pop love song, and “I Want a Woman” is a true gem. The latter was penned as a nod to the Black Crowes. It is surprisingly mature, well thought-out, and well played. These songs defeat their others, which are sadly out of tune. The Ferns should spend more time practicing, less time studying. Singer Ryan Bourque amazes us though, with his eerie cover of “Rape Me.” Picture the kid from the movie Almost Famous with Kurt Cobain’s voice. Anyway, with practice, they will do all right. There is ENORMOUS potential, and did I mention they’re not bad to look at? (Sue O.)
Bands: Please be advised that shows are never assigned for review. If you’re doing something even remotely exceptional, we’ll be the first to tell the world. If you’re horrible, same thing.
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