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INTRODUCTION
by T Max
With the demise of WBCN 104.1 fm it
looked like the 2009 Rumble (the 31st of this annual Boston
event) would be the last of the classic battle of the bands competition.
2010 saw no Rumble and Boston musicians quietly paid their respects.
But Anngelle Wood (Boston Emissions
on WZLX), the last organizer of the Rumble, hadnt given up on the
competition. Though a year was skipped, she pumped life back into it
and placed the event at T.T. the Bears for the first time in Rumble
history. 2010 will be known as the year of rest, just as Wednesday night
has been the day of rest in the six days of preliminary bouts between
the 24 bands. The Noise assembled its Rumble coverage team and
the following is the new beginning of Bostons music history. Here
are the live reviews of each of the 24 bands that competed in the 32nd
annual Rock n Roll Rumble.
THE PRELIMINARIES
Sunday, April 3
THE BLIZZARD OF
78, JENNY DEE & THE DEELINQUENTS,
OLD JACK, McALISTER DRIVE
by Ryan Bray
Straight away,
the Blizzard of 78 brings some serious bluster with their fat, anthemic
rock n roll sound. There are touches of J. Giles, E Street Band,
and Being There-era Wilco, touched off with the kind of whimsical
bravado that reminds me of the Hold Steady. The horns are a particularly
nice touch, punching up the bands swaggering sound in just the right
places. Sadly, as good as the Blizzard is Im not certain their set
is going to leave enough of a lasting impression come the end of the
night. Not their fault, but I feel like they may fall victim to their
early time slot.
Jenny Dee & the Deelinquents have long been stowed away in my heard
of file, but tonight is my first close encounter with the much-buzzed
girl group. I like how right off the bat you know what youre getting,
namely a lot of sass and cheeky attitude. Equal parts Martha & the
Vandellas and the Go-Gos, the band really capitalizes on the idea of
rock n roll as a show, complete with choreographed dance
moves and gestures. In the end theyre a lot of fun, which history
has shown can take you a long way in the Rumble.
Old Jack takes things in a decidedly different direction, moving away
from the Deelinquents campy vibe into full-on rock mode. Front man
Dan Nicklin has a real natural feel for the stage, working the crowd
like a devilish cross between Scott Weiland and Mick Jagger. Meanwhile
the bands healthy mash- up of folk, alt country, soul, and rock n
roll is making for the most energized set of the night thus far. Theres
still one band left to take the stage, but this one is shaping up to
be Jacks for the taking.
Its now on McAlister Drive to step up and play the role of the spoiler,
but its clear from the start they arent up to the challenge. It
kind of pisses me off because theyve got the best slot of the night
and they just arent bringing it. Im not saying theyre not talented
(drummer Jovol Bell is a monster behind the kit for sure), but rather
just a poor fit. Their folksy, songwriter-driven sound is a little too
light and airy to make enough noise in the Rumble setting. If you cant
rowdy the place up with a cover of Shipping Up to Boston, youre
in trouble.
The judges choose Jenny Dee & the Deelinquents as tonights winners.
Monday, April 4
FULL BODY ANCHOR,
TIJUANA SWEETHEART, A WISH FOR FIRE,
WALTER SICKERT & THE ARMY OF
BROKEN TOYS
by Kevin Finn
Full Body Anchor is
my favorite live act in town right now, and they do nothing to dispel
that notion despite ace guitarist Amy Griffin lounging somewhere in
Mexico. Fortunately, singer Eric Edmonston can do just about anything,
and the set goes off without a hitch. FBA would have fit in perfectly
during the 90s indie guitar rock heyday. The power of the songs
attacks the audience like a hammer to the brain, while the melodies
give us a gentle backrub. FBA reminds me of Sunny Day Real Estate with
balls, and they will be a tough act to follow.
Speaking of bands with balls, Tijuana Sweetheart strikes me as punkish
cock rock, except with brains and vaginas. The band has a lot of supporters
in the audience, and its easy to see why. The songs are easy to pump
your fist to and instantly and almost insanely catchy. I love that they
are clearly having a blast. They are the most smiley band Ive ever
seen, and the crowd clearly responds to their joy. The set gains momentum
as it goes, reaching a peak with the back-to-back blast of the Heathcliff
theme and Fuck the Kells. This is a tough act to follow.
As A Wish for Fire begins its set, the club starts to smell like weed,
which seems to fit appropriately alongside the bands psychedelic
hard rock. Following a band like Tijuana Sweetheart that has such an
immediate impact is always tough, but especially so for one with longer,
more layered songs that require more from the audience. In fact, I wish
I had spent some time listening to their records in advance, as despite
the shifting dynamics and tempos, a bit of monotony does set in toward
the end. These guys are by no means bad, but Im not sure this is
the best showcase for them.
Walter Sickert & the Army of Broken Toys ends the night, and its
kind of hard to place a line of distinction between the band and the
audience. In fact, the club kind of looks like an Amanda Palmer concert
exploded. Everyone is clearly having a blast, with much of the crowd
shouting along to Sickerts hard-to-categorize circus folk. There
is a football teams worth of musicians on stage, in costumes ranging
from drag to panda masks, playing everything from the mandolin to the
melodica. The whole effect is kind of distracting. Its more of a
show than a concert, and I remember little of the music afterward.
My hypothetical vote is split down the middle between Full Body Anchor
and Tijuana Sweetheart. The judges real one goes to Walter Sickert
& the Army of Broken Toys.
Tuesday, April 5
THE AUTUMN HOLLOW
BAND, CULT 45,
JOHN POWHIDA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, SPIRIT KID
by Justin Korn
The house lights never go off, but
at approximately nine oclock, Autumn Hollow takes the stage. The
bassist looks like a giddy little schoolgirl as he strums his upright
stringed bass; hes ecstatic just to be in this April Madness competition.
Lead singer, Brendan Murphy, shows an utter lack of cold feet pre-show
jitters as he struts around on stage barefoot. If Southern Comfort
was also a genre of music, Autumn Hollow is its high-proof distilled
whiskey. Bluegrass folk resonates throughout the room, and the crowd
digs their occasional three-part harmonies coupled with subtle a cappella
inspired crowd sing-a-longs.
Next to take the stage is Cult 45, led by a half-pint of a female vocalist,
Tai Heatley, whose presumed innocence belies her ability to melt faces
with her rock vocals. From the moment she belts out, some of the elder
statesmen in the crowd [aka, proud parents] clench hands around their
ears to salvage any irreparable damage on their eardrums. Cult 45 drives
the remainder of their show with guitar solos that please the Zakk Wylde
look-a-like in the crowd and Tai Heatley showcases a vocal range that
rivals some opera singers.
The crowd is exhausted and John Powhida International Airport provides
the boost to keep the Rumble from flatlining. The troop finishes their
pints of ale and move onto pleading their case to the judges with their
unique mouthful of funk-infused early 90s pop. Lead vocalist Powhida
has the crowd in stitches as he explains one song came about because
of a young woman who filed for a restraining order against him.
This band is fit to either play retirement-home bingo nights or Cinco
de Mayo parties, but Powhida and company make for a surprising twist
in the competition.
Spirit Kid closes out the night with some comfort tunes that brings
back fond memories of high school prom. The boy band pop-punk
group fronted by the bearded Emeen Zarookian is green-lit to play a
selection from their catalog, which is very upbeat and provides a hint
of lyrical sappiness. The crowd casually listens out of one ear and
remarks that the bands lead tambourinist keeps a killer tempo, although
he could benefit from resurrecting the cowbell as Blue Oyster Cult once
did. Zarookians effeminate vocals are greeted with rattling hips
on the dance floor.
Tonights winners: John Powhida International Airport.
Thursday, April 7
TRIPLE THICK, STATIC
OF THE GODS,
MELLOW BRAVO, THE ACRO-BRATS
by Joel Simches
As Triple Thick hits
the stage, their energy seems to creep as the room slowly begins to
fill, but never strays too far from mid-tempo. The band plows steadily
from song to song, rarely acknowledging or engaging the audience.
The most energetic aspect of their set was Henry the percussionist,
who looks like a middle-aged plumber doing his best Davy Jones impersonation
wailing away on tambourine and maracas. The music is straight ahead
with no frills or flashy solos. While their set is lacking the
sparkle of a typical Rumble set, they still rock like Jonathan
Richman on crack.
Static of the Gods plaintively slink onto the stage and elevate the
room to a higher plane with swirling, echoey guitars and Jen Johnsons
soaring vocal gymnastics. Anngelle steps onto the stage to save
the day when the vocal mic cuts out. While some of the bass is programmed,
Ben Voskeritchian switches to bass and baritone for a few numbers, with
Jen rocking the MicroKorg over Mike Latulippes pounding tribal toms.
This is the most powerhouse performance of the night, with Jen channeling
Anneli Drecker. Its shoegaze at its ballsiest. The band leaves
the stage in a rumble of reverberated feedback.
As they light a glowing orb held by a naked statue, Mellow Bravo recalls
the over-the-top bombast of the first Van Halen, except Diamond Dave
has a full head of hair, more testosterone than Valerie Bertinellis
wettest dream, and more soul than a James Brown facefuck. The band clearly
owns the stage and the crowd. The guy next to me exclaims, Im
so hard right now! The set ends with singer Keith Pierce running
out of the club with his guitar and finishing the song on the hood of
a car parked by the front door.
The Acro-brats are showered in beer as Chris Brat defiantly spits out
his lyrics. There is no slow burn in this set. The band hits the ground
with no pretense and no bullshit, except for the occasional choreographed
stage move. The band is relentless, unforgiving and visceral.
Their set slowly becomes a pure punk love fest of beer and sweat as
they pound away from one song to the next. This is easily the tightest
set I have seen them do. Half the room is invited onstage to join the
band for their closing number. No one wants to leave the stage!
Winner: Mellow Bravo
Friday, April 8
TIRE OLD BONES, STEREO
TELESCOPE,
DO NOT FORSAKE ME OH MY DARLING, KEEP ME CONSCIOUS
by Max Bowen
The crowd is packed
early when I get to T.T.s, securing their spots around the stage
for the show. Tired Old Bones brings a flawless percussion backing some
very groovy rock tunes, giving the audience an array of beats they can
all move to, and frequently do. At least, for those not jammed to the
walls. Did I mention how packed the place was? Lead singer Bridget Nault
has a deep and powerful voice, which matches perfectly to a style of
music that ebbs and flows seamlessly. Shes got a great delivery,
melding her vocals with the blues and punk-tinged music, reinforcing
the melodic piledriver that is this band.
As the set ends, the crowd disperses to grab some drinks, merch, and
a chance to breathe. But no sooner does the Stereo Telescopes begin
setting up, and the floor is once more crammed with the devoted fans,
and rightfully so. The synth-pop duo of Kurt Schneider and Nikki Dessingue
comb flowing keyboard work with precise guitar playing over a pulsing
beat. Amidst the set Nikki breaks out a tambourine and moves about the
stage, and the crowd shows their love while grooving to the music. The
blue lighting adds to the unique atmosphere these two create on stage.
If Tired Old Bones is a piledriver, then the rock duo of Do Not Forsake
Me Oh My Darling is a full-on musical cage match, weapons included.
Sophia Cacciolo is the veritable bull in a china shop on the drums,
slamming a precise beat thats impossible to ignore. Shes got the
voice to match, commanding the attention of all in the club with each
note. Guitarist Michael Epstein adds to the intensity of the set. Between
the two of them, they outshine most full bands I can name.
Keep Me Conscious ends the show proudly, refueling the audience at T.T.s
with an intense alt-rock set that never once loses its steam. The vocals
of Bob Bowser speak to a love for his music, and more importantly, to
the crowd assembled that night, washing over the audience and keeping
everyone firmly rooted where they stand. The instrumentation of Daniel
Maleck, Rob Wu, John Wiley, and Maty Vamp matches him note for note,
bringing a passion to the set that infects the crowd, which they give
right back with thunderous applause.
Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling will move on to the semi-final round.
Saturday, April 9
CRADLE TO THE GRAVE,
THE YEAR MILLION,
BLACK THAI, SIDEWALK DRIVER
by Kevin Finn
Few bands make heartache
sound as appealing as Cradle to the Grave, offering tales of despair
and betrayal alongside sing-along choruses and fist-pumping power chords.
Tonight is the sharpest that Ive seen them, and a lot of that has
to do with Mark Lind filling in on bass, as his gravelly background
vocals mesh nicely with Drew Indingaros smoother ones. The songs
are melodic, but they hit hard. Paul Christian is an absolute marvel
on guitar, a bottomless well of both hot licks and guitar-god faces.
The only negative is that Joe Wyatts violin often gets lost in the
mix. A nice start to the evening.
The Year Million are up next, emitting a sound about 1,000 times bigger
than T.T.s. This is a band with definite commercial appeal. I could
easily picture their Depeche Mode-meets-U2 sound fitting in nicely on
WFNX between Muse and the Killers. Some of the songs go down a little
too easy for my liking, and at times the synth overwhelms the rest of
the band. For most of the set, though, I find the music infectious and
powerful. I almost want to dance, and I hate dancing. This is definitely
a band to watch.
I know Im in for an experience, when Black Thai nearly deafens me
while doing soundcheck. Everything about these guys (drums, amps,
heavy metal sound) is big. They play with such force that my balls
literally shake throughout their set, and they render my earplugs pretty
much useless. It hurts, but in a good way. The musicianship
is top notch, and the band has a Rajon Rondo-like agility, able to seamlessly
change tempo at the blink of an eye. The low end roar does get a little
muddied up at times, but the closing song is so epic that the crowd
erupts in a chant of Holy shit!
My favorite thing about the Rumble is getting to see a testosterone
blast like Black Thai followed by the decidedly non-macho glam of Sidewalk
Driver. The band clearly has the audiences support for the
evening, as the viewing area is mobbed. In particular, there seem
to be a lot of drunken chicks with no sense of space. Singer Tad McKitterick
is quite a sight, with a hat seemingly glued to his bald head and a
face full of glitter. He is a force of nature in both personality
and in elastic voice. The band supports him ably, but its a bit
too much of a performance for me.
Cradle to the Grave have my vote, but Sidewalk Driver has the vote of
those who matter.
AFTER THE PRELIMS
by T Max
Spirit Kid and Black Thai are chosen
as the wild card bands for the semi-finals. For the first time in Rumble
history a band that advanced to the semi-finals chooses to withdraw
due to a conflict with a previous engagement. Jenny Dee & the Deelinquents
drop out, allowing Old Jack a place in the semis. The winner of April
14 semi-final is Spirit Kid. John Powhida International Airport wins
the semi on April 15. Without ever winning a night, Old Jack joins those
two bands in the finals as the wild card. The Shods (an all-time favorite
Boston-area band) are the guest band on the Rumbles final night. The Noise congratulates all 24 participating bands and offers each of them a half price ad during the year 2011. Contact T Max for your reward.
And the winner of the 2011 Rock n
Roll Rumble is…
JOHN POWHIDA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT!
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