Weekend of Rock, Part II
Earlier I didn't get to finish writing the second half of my amazing weekend of rock. I'll be sorta brief.
After waiting around for gang members to get back from Delaware, Sunday night started off at my friend Nan's cookout. In a stroke of genius, she'd decided to throw a big bash at her house prior to that night's show at Iota, partly to gather the troops in one place before heading over to the show at Iota that night (which she was promoting) but mostly just for fun. I met a whole slew of wonderful people but most noticeably the guys from Middle Distance Runner, playing this Saturday at DC9, and Thao Nyugen, whose music is amazing and will be playing with my childhood buddy, Neil Allen aka The Virginia Reel, at Galaxy Hut on July 25th. However, as most of my friends know, I can't pass up the opportunity to play with a dog, so the biggest highlight was throwing tennis balls and otherwise horsing around with Nan's black lab, Caroline. She's a great dog!
After a brief interlude at the Indian food deli, we arrived at Iota. I really like this club. It sounds great, the layout is strangely intimate with really great artwork, a small load-bearing wall in the middle, giving people a lot of corners in which to hide plus there's a sidebar and a patio in case your ears need a break as it's pretty loud. They also play intermission music that I really like. During the band changes Sunday night, we got The Thrills, Belle and Sebastien and even a little Smog (I think.)
The lineup for the night, in order of appearance, was Brice Woodall (his name makes me think of car dealership, Brice-Woodall Chevolet), The Revival, The Cassettes, and Cartel. Brice was really good. I'd met him earlier at the party. He plays solo acoustic onstage which he livens up a bit with a sampler that plays drum beats and a backing track. While his choice of hats was rather unfortunate (that short brimmed army cap that everyone seems to be wearing on the indie scene), his music was well-crafted and he even incorporated hand claps, but I'd be really interested to hear him with a live backing band. He's gearing up for a move to Chicago, which must be turning into the new Brooklyn. I can't say I blame him though as he'll fit in perfectly there.
The Revival was up next. Apparently the lead singer's back-up had run off on tour with another singer-songwriter and forgot to tell him until after he confirmed for this show. He was really good, with exceptional stage banter. My favorite quote was "I'm going to finish this one off with a ballad." They were all ballads. I guess it was more the delivery. Even still, the big British guitar sound he got from a Orange amp head filled up the background nicely and his lyrics, while strained, sounded really genuinely and were well-written. I enjoyed his set and hope to hear him with his full band soon.
At this point in the show, I've got to paint a bit of a picture. The stage is fairly big for a small club stage. However, from the very beginning, there was very little room to maneuver b/c it was literally littered with small instruments and various pieces of odd equipment. From stage left to right, there was an accordion, a Moog, a violin, something flat on legs that I wasn't quite sure about, then the big Orange cab, a drum with a bicycle horn and the smallest kick drum I've ever seen, a steel electric guitar, and a standup bass. Turned out, this was The Cassettes stage setup. When they hit the stage, what followed was 45 minutes of some of the weirdest yet entertaining music I've seen since I first saw The Make Up live. The Cassettes' whole gimmick surrounds them as a group of former Russian Slavic sailors, or something in that vein. They all wear somewhat strange, old-timey costumes onstage, replete with handlebar mustaches and play the whole bit out to the nines. The music reminds me a lot of The Decembrists in that it plays on that strange line between new and experimental while narrative and antiquated at the same time. The mystery object towards the rear of the stage turned out to be a homemade theramin, played by the abled Arthur, who once played homemade instruments at planetariums and later regaled us with one of his own bawdy tunes. Their quirky energy filled the air and held the crowd in its thrall the entire set. For the second time in 2 nights, I was genuinely sad when a band announced their last song. Amazing.
The last band was another well-hyped DC band, Cartel. I really don't have much to say about them. Their set paled in comparison to The Cassettes and I truly felt bad for them having to follow that act. Again, like The Bonapartes, they just seem to be following the Interpol music standard with very little interesting deviation. Beyond their outstanding first song, "Fleets," I just lost interest since the songs ran together so easily (re: sounded the same.) The one thing about them I really didn't understand is that for a few songs, the lead singer allowed the guitarist/keyboardist to sing the lead parts. The only problem with this is that the second guy's voice sounds like a worse version of lead's voice. Why even bother? The other guy was also miming his lyrics to the crowd, which I consider the lowest of low-class moves. Save it for dinner theater, pal. I passed most of their time out on the back patio, talking about bad British business cards with cheesy tartans and the emergence of zombie dogs with the guys from The Cassettes. (*However, I listened to Cartel's EP this morning and it was promising, plus their last song Sunday night was brand new and it gave me hope to still expect good things from them.*)
After waiting around for gang members to get back from Delaware, Sunday night started off at my friend Nan's cookout. In a stroke of genius, she'd decided to throw a big bash at her house prior to that night's show at Iota, partly to gather the troops in one place before heading over to the show at Iota that night (which she was promoting) but mostly just for fun. I met a whole slew of wonderful people but most noticeably the guys from Middle Distance Runner, playing this Saturday at DC9, and Thao Nyugen, whose music is amazing and will be playing with my childhood buddy, Neil Allen aka The Virginia Reel, at Galaxy Hut on July 25th. However, as most of my friends know, I can't pass up the opportunity to play with a dog, so the biggest highlight was throwing tennis balls and otherwise horsing around with Nan's black lab, Caroline. She's a great dog!
After a brief interlude at the Indian food deli, we arrived at Iota. I really like this club. It sounds great, the layout is strangely intimate with really great artwork, a small load-bearing wall in the middle, giving people a lot of corners in which to hide plus there's a sidebar and a patio in case your ears need a break as it's pretty loud. They also play intermission music that I really like. During the band changes Sunday night, we got The Thrills, Belle and Sebastien and even a little Smog (I think.)
The lineup for the night, in order of appearance, was Brice Woodall (his name makes me think of car dealership, Brice-Woodall Chevolet), The Revival, The Cassettes, and Cartel. Brice was really good. I'd met him earlier at the party. He plays solo acoustic onstage which he livens up a bit with a sampler that plays drum beats and a backing track. While his choice of hats was rather unfortunate (that short brimmed army cap that everyone seems to be wearing on the indie scene), his music was well-crafted and he even incorporated hand claps, but I'd be really interested to hear him with a live backing band. He's gearing up for a move to Chicago, which must be turning into the new Brooklyn. I can't say I blame him though as he'll fit in perfectly there.
The Revival was up next. Apparently the lead singer's back-up had run off on tour with another singer-songwriter and forgot to tell him until after he confirmed for this show. He was really good, with exceptional stage banter. My favorite quote was "I'm going to finish this one off with a ballad." They were all ballads. I guess it was more the delivery. Even still, the big British guitar sound he got from a Orange amp head filled up the background nicely and his lyrics, while strained, sounded really genuinely and were well-written. I enjoyed his set and hope to hear him with his full band soon.
At this point in the show, I've got to paint a bit of a picture. The stage is fairly big for a small club stage. However, from the very beginning, there was very little room to maneuver b/c it was literally littered with small instruments and various pieces of odd equipment. From stage left to right, there was an accordion, a Moog, a violin, something flat on legs that I wasn't quite sure about, then the big Orange cab, a drum with a bicycle horn and the smallest kick drum I've ever seen, a steel electric guitar, and a standup bass. Turned out, this was The Cassettes stage setup. When they hit the stage, what followed was 45 minutes of some of the weirdest yet entertaining music I've seen since I first saw The Make Up live. The Cassettes' whole gimmick surrounds them as a group of former Russian Slavic sailors, or something in that vein. They all wear somewhat strange, old-timey costumes onstage, replete with handlebar mustaches and play the whole bit out to the nines. The music reminds me a lot of The Decembrists in that it plays on that strange line between new and experimental while narrative and antiquated at the same time. The mystery object towards the rear of the stage turned out to be a homemade theramin, played by the abled Arthur, who once played homemade instruments at planetariums and later regaled us with one of his own bawdy tunes. Their quirky energy filled the air and held the crowd in its thrall the entire set. For the second time in 2 nights, I was genuinely sad when a band announced their last song. Amazing.
The last band was another well-hyped DC band, Cartel. I really don't have much to say about them. Their set paled in comparison to The Cassettes and I truly felt bad for them having to follow that act. Again, like The Bonapartes, they just seem to be following the Interpol music standard with very little interesting deviation. Beyond their outstanding first song, "Fleets," I just lost interest since the songs ran together so easily (re: sounded the same.) The one thing about them I really didn't understand is that for a few songs, the lead singer allowed the guitarist/keyboardist to sing the lead parts. The only problem with this is that the second guy's voice sounds like a worse version of lead's voice. Why even bother? The other guy was also miming his lyrics to the crowd, which I consider the lowest of low-class moves. Save it for dinner theater, pal. I passed most of their time out on the back patio, talking about bad British business cards with cheesy tartans and the emergence of zombie dogs with the guys from The Cassettes. (*However, I listened to Cartel's EP this morning and it was promising, plus their last song Sunday night was brand new and it gave me hope to still expect good things from them.*)
posted by Jaded Lens at
7:41 AM
2 Comments:
I know where you live. My hat is a wonderful hat and my name just happens to sound like a car dealership. My jock strap is glorious. Just kidding.
By the way, it's a drum machine and not a sampler. I program the drum and bass patterns. It's not too difficult.
Thanks for the nice comments that mattered.
BW
By
Anonymous, at 4:32 PM
Hey, no offense intended about the name. I'm told I have the name of an 1800's snake oil salesman.
Is there another backing track in addition to the drum machine?
In Chicago, you'll really have the chance to find some truly great, well-trained musicians, even drummers. I suggest looking Parker Paul, a really great piano songwriter. He's signed to Jag Jaguwar and writes some of the most amazing lyrics.
By
Jaded Lens, at 10:12 AM
Post a Comment
<< Home