Philly band Sheer Mag played a red-hot set last night in front of a crowd of about 30 at Reverb Lounge. A personal favorite since their 2017 debut album Need to Feel Your Love, sharp-eyed, long-time Lazy-i readers will remember “Expect the Bayonet” from the Lazy-i Best of 2017 compliation. Sadly, the band didn’t play “…Bayonet” last night, but did play that album’s unbelievably groovy title track linked below this review (be patient and get past the song’s odd southern rock intro).
I’ve never been able to quite put my finger on who lead singer Tina Halladay’s voice reminds me of – I’ve always considered it uniquely one-of-a-kind – until last night when it struck me she sounds like a very young Michael Jackson a la The Jackson 5 circa 1971. At times the band reminded me of the J5, too, especially on the aforementioned track and the similar sounding “Moonstruck” from their just released album Playing Favorites (Third Man Records).
They’re often compared to Thin Lizzy and their logo even apes Thin Lizzy’s font style, but what really powers those comparisons is lead axe man Kyle Seely’s groovy, bluesy guitar lines countered perfectly by the rhythm section of bassist Hart Seely and drummer Evan Campbell. The band is rounded out by rhythm guitarist Matt Palmer (who was virtually unheard in the mix). You definately got a ’70s arena-rock vibe, right down to their walk-on music (Molly Hatchet’s “Good Rockin'”).
Pitchfork recently pooh-poohed their new album, saying (in essence) this is what happens when a band nails their sound on their first album. Yeah, that could be a problem if more people knew who they were, but despite signing to Jack White’s Third Man Records, Sheer Mag continues to fly under the radar, waiting to be discovered by the audience it deserves.
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9Million is a Toronto shoegaze band helmed by the multi-instrumentalist, songwriter and producer Matthew Tomasi, known for his work with acts Ethel Cain and Nicole Dollanganger. While his band’s older material sort of has that shoegaze haze, grunge is the first thing that comes to mind listening to their latest EP, Gush, released last year. Playing as a seven-piece, it could be a crowded stage when the band plays tonight at The Sydney in Benson. It also could be a late night as The Dirts and Size Queen open at the published start time of 8 p.m. (which I’ll believe when I see). $12.
The Dirts have been playing out for at least a couple years and I still don’t know who’s in this band. Other than an Instagram page, there virtually was nothing I could find out about this intense 5-piece act that consists of four women and one of the guys who also plays in Garst (who we’ll get to later).
Last night’s set at Reverb Lounge was the second time round seeing them and they’re becoming one of my favorite new Nebraska bands thanks to their dense, atmospheric style of shoegaze. In addition to singing well (his voice kind of reminded me of the guy in Pardoner), he did a nice job balancing songs with his relaxed guitar solos. The band’s two women vocalists could barely be heard above the roar, though what I could hear sounded good. Their lack of presence in the mix was likely more due to the fact they didn’t appear to be singing very loudly or very close to their microphones.
To my knowledge, there are no recordings of The Dirts on the internet or streaming services, and since I don’t know who’s in the band, I don’t know who to ask. I guess I could have asked one of them while I was in the club, but I’ve startled more than my share of young musicians over the years (it’s the cop thing) and was in no mood to do so last night. Short set! Done by 8:30.
Virga at Reverb Lounge, April 3, 2024.
Maybe the women of The Dirts could take a clue from Faith Maddox of Virga, who played next. Fronting a fourpiece with guitar in hand, Maddox’s gorgeous, lonesome voice was a perfect match for Virga’s two chord verses, minor-key, heavy, and at times dirgy downer rock that had a way of exploding before the end of each song. Later, Virga rolled out a few very ’90s-style post-grunge songs reminscent of Lawrence bands from back in the day.
Maddox said last night was the first stop on their tour, which will take them to Chicago tonight, and was very appreciative of the crowd response. The band closed out with another uptempo number but then, in the end, reverted back to its downer-core as if to say “This is who we really are.”
As they cleared their gear from the stage, I thought, “For the love of god, please let Blanky play next.” I didn’t want them to get Omaha’d by Garst.
Thankfully, Blanky did go on next. The trio played in a more upbeat style than what’s heard on their Blood Harmony album, and likely is a sign of where their sound is headed. Frontman Anthony Cunard was the showpiece, a fantastic guitarist who played in an echoing, slow-pulse surf style a la early Pixies or Breeders and sometimes sounded like Jon Spencer on Valium. They had an intensely cool sound and Cunard’s solos were eye-popping. .
Then came Garst a little after 10:30. These guys are, indeed, ferociously good at what they do, which is play ’80s-style riff rock at a breakneck pace. All four dudes are super talented and mega-tight shredding fast, intricate riffs like a ’70s prog band with fun-loving ’80s hair metal charm. The frontman/guitarist began the set sporting a sort of affected growl that thankfully faded halfway through. I recognized Cat Piss/Pagan Athletes drummer Nate Wolf behind the drum kit, who I assumed was a new addition as the frontman went out of his way to introduce him early in the set. Wolf is one of the city’s brightest new talents.
While not a style of music I listen to often anymore (Hey, I grew up on bands like Fastway and Van Halen) these guys were impressive, jumping from one riff-fueled groove to another. You could argue Garst was an odd way to end a night of touring indie rock bands (and one great local shoegaze opener), but they also helped bring a crowd. Garst’s fans – many of them young ladies — patiently waited in the back during the early sets, but once their dudes came on stage were went right up front dancing.
Funniest moment of the Garst set was between songs when the frontman said (and I’m paraphrasing): “There’s a lot of slow core coming out of Lawrence these days. I’ve got a question: Are you guys OK?”
To which one of the Blanky guys sitting next to me at the bar responded by yelling, “No, we’re not.”
What to say about last Friday night’s Sun June/Wild Pink show at Reverb Lounge? When the official 8 p.m. start time rolled around, only about 25 people were in the crowd. It’s safe to say after this and last week’s hour-late start at The Sydney, that we are officially back to pre-Covid-19 (late) start times.
The venues’ former punctuality was likely due to self-imposed curfews to get people in and out as quickly as possible to control human contact/virus spread. But now that Covid has become a distant memory (to most people), shows are starting 30 minutes to an hour late again. Which is fine, as long as they’re consistent — no one wants to show up assuming a late start only to discover they missed the opener because the venue (or artist) decided to be punctual. That said, let’s not get back in the other pre-Covid habit of headliners taking the stage at midnight and wrapping up after 1 a.m…
Wild Pink at Reverb Lounge, March 22, 2024.
So, Wild Pink didn’t go on until a little past 8:30 – just long enough to double the crowd size. Playing as a four-piece, Wild Pink tore through a set of dense, gorgeous, mid-tempo indie rock songs led by singer/songwriter/guitarist John Ross that reminded me of Strand of Oaks or a more tuneful (better) version of The National. They sounded very much like what’s heard on their just-released EP, Strawberry Eraser (Fire Talk Records), but without that recording’s haunting Destroyer-esque saxophone parts.
Beyond the first-rate rhythm section, the band’s secret weapon is lead guitarist Mike Brenner, who switched between pedal steel and standard electric guitar throughout the night. It was a dreamy, well-performed set that went end-to-end with few breaks and no chatter between songs – a contrast to what was to come.
Sun June – typically a five-piece and a collaboration between front-woman Laura Colwell and guitarist/co-songwriter Stephen Salisbury — played as a four-piece with drummer Sarah Schultz and lead guitarist Michael Bain. I’m not sure who was on bass, and to be honest with you, I have no idea what Stephen Salisbury looks like or if he’s even still in the band. I reached out to Run for Cover Records via Instagram to determine the band’s current touring line-up to no avail.
Regardless, who we saw Friday night was pretty terrific. Colwell suffered some initial technical difficulties which she trouble-shooted as being caused by her glass of white wine perched atop her guitar amp. After the first trepidatious number it was smooth sailing, with the band playing songs from their most recent album, 2023’s Bad Dream Jaguar. If you think Colwell has a whispery voice on her records, it’s nothing compared to the faint, soto voce in which she began her set.
She didn’t hit her stride until about halfway through, with solid renditions of “Texas” and “Mixed Bag” that showcased her voice and clever songwriting. “Texas” is a personal favorite, and had I enough cash I would have bought one of their T-shirts with the song’s lyric, “Texas, you keep breaking my heart.”
Live, Sun June’s music is more energetic and less somber than on recording. Throughout the set, four or five members of the crowd sang along with Colwell, one person demonstrably so. The band brought everything back down for their final song, a stirring rendition of album standout “John Prine,” so quiet in fact, that the thump-thump-thump from whoever was playing in The Waiting Room could be heard bleeding through the back of the stage, which Colwell acknowledged with a smile, saying “Hey, you can hear them next door.” You sure can, Laura.
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And that’s it for touring indie shows in Omaha for the balance of the month. The next show on my radar is a couple Lawrence bands, Blanky and Virgo, making a trip to Reverb Lounge April 3 (with The Dirts and Garst)…
Size Queen is a new LimOma band whose members include drummer Sam Crisler – one of the bookers of this year’s Lincoln Calling Festival. Last night I sat in The Sidney and watched Sam meticulously build his drum kit for a half-hour, wondering when the band would actually start playing. In the pre-Covid days, everyone knew an 8 p.m. start time meant a 9 p.m. start, but post-Covid most clubs have been insistent about start times, especially during weeknights. And yet, here we were at 8:30 as Crisler slowly placed one half of a high hat on the pull rod, then the next, then slowly tightened the clutch. I can’t say’s I blame them – the longer you wait, the bigger the crowd, right?
But the plan was to watch Size Queen play at The Sydney and then race across Benson and catch the show at Reverb, which was happening at the same time. Sure, I’d miss Heavy Clippings, but I just saw them last weekend at Goatfest but figured I could still catch The Dirts. Well, you know what they say about plans…
Size Queen at The Sydney, March 18, 2024.
Size Queen finally took the stage a little after 9 p.m. The only other person’s name I know in the band is guitarist Sam Lipsett, who also plays in Cat Piss. I’ve also met the bass player Jessy Hunt before, but knew nothing about the front person (who I’ve come to find out is Rosemary Ellis).
The band’s sound was feral and combative, aggressive but controlled. I guess you’d call it post-punk, but much heavier and faster, bordering on hardcore, though Crisler’s drumming (thankfully) was more creative and interesting than the usual straight-four hardcore rhythms that seem only designed for moshing. Crisler’s drum work has a definite hard-rock persona that blended well with Lipsett’s feedback-driven, heavy-ass riffs and the solid bass lines.
Above it all was the whirling-dervish front person who spewed undecipherable yell vocals, struggling to be heard above the rest of the noise. I’ve seen noise-rock bands who tried doing this style of music without a vocalist, and (for me) it rarely works. You’ve got to have someone out front screaming something, whether you know what they’re screaming or not — it adds a necessary counter to everything else going on. It’s risky, and Size Queen’s vocalist pulled it off.
The band’s 15-minute set was a nod to ‘90s post-punk, more so, say, than grunge, though I was reminded of Skinyard, and the guy next to me (a legend in his own right) referenced Royal Trux. Plucinski’s Cat Piss has a similar but more focused bombast, and no doubt Size Queen will get there, too – remember, this was only their second show (and their first time in Omaha).
Heavy Clippings at Reverb Lounge, March 18, 2024.
By the time I got to Reverb, I’d already missed The Dirts, who played first (not how the bill was listed). On stage in front of a full room was Heavy Clippings sounding louder and more aggressive than at Goatfest/Scriptown last weekend. The band has a handful of singles available on Bandcamp that you can check out here. Those Bandcamp tracks sound more like demos, and one can only hope they’re leading up to a proper LP release in the near future.
There is (and has been for years) an undercurrent of a “scene” going on in Omaha associated with the record stores The Antiquarium, Almost Music, and now Grapefruit Records. At the heart is Simon Joyner, who continues to produce amazing, vital records and seems to always be on the road touring. While Joyner is globally recognized by a niche audience, another Grapefruit Records regular, David Nance (and his current band, Mowed Sound), has probably garnered the largest fan base, thanks to a catalog of solid recordings, lots of touring, and a recent release on Jack White’s Third Man Records. Heavy Clippings also is part of this scene – a band fronted by Noah Sterba with Jeff Sedrel on bass — their sound fuses singer/songwriter Americana with a unique Midwestern flair.
Others that fall into this Omaha record store scene include Sean Pratt, Nathan Ma, Megan Siebe, Jim Schroeder, I’m sure many more. The group has been around for years – stretching back to the ‘90s – making their own DIY recordings and playing DIY shows. When anyone asks about an “Omaha Sound,” this is what comes to mind more than anything (including early Saddle Creek Records artists, who never had a central, common thread soundwise).
Though they’re from Los Angeles, Color Green has a connection to this scene via one of the band’s two core members – Noah Kohll — a former Omahan and fellow record store hanger-outer who likely has played alongside all these Antiquarium/Almost Music/Grapefruit folks at one time or another. With fellow guitarist Corey Madden, Kohll has taken that Midwestern sound and fused it with something akin to Allman Bros./Derek and the Dominos-style blues rock to create something both new and familiar, and strikingly beautiful.
At the heart of it is the gorgeous, intricate guitar play between Kohll and Madden that last night was spotlighted in intros that gracefully led into the songs, some sang by Kohll, others by Madden, harmonized sparingly by the band’s female drummer and bass player (whose names I don’t know but who were spectacular).
Playing in the dark with only overhead stage lights, Color Green’s hour-long set consisted mostly of songs off their gorgeous 2022 self-titled album, released by ORG Music. And while that record is something you should seek out immediately, it doesn’t hold a candle to the band’s live performance, which took it all to the next level — the best guitar interplay I’ve heard in years (and that includes recent Nance/Schroeder slugfests). The band’s dynamics ranged from heavy riff-rock to bluesy mellow balladry that sounded like The Allman Bros. playing a cover of Led Zep’s “The Rain Song” – a comparison that I’m sure will make the Grapefruit Records folks cringe.
Toward the end of the set, Kohll talked about his Omaha roots and even pointed out his parents in the crowd, saying the show was kind of a homecoming. That being the case, welcome home, Mr. Kohll. And please, don’t be a stranger.
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Tonight at The Waiting Room, Atlanta-based self-described emo/indie punk Michael Cera Palin headlines a four-band bill that includes locals Trees With Eyes, Valley Street and Dullparty. $15, 8 p.m.
Just getting to O’Leaver’s has become something of a nightmare with all the friggin’ road construction. Once through the maze of barricades along Leavenworth and Saddle Creek Saturday night, I found a parking lot chock full on both sides of the volleyball courts and almost expected to be turned back at the door. Inside, O’Leaver’s was comfortably filled but not cram packed (So where were all those people who own all those cars?).
Ione at O’Leaver’s, March 16, 2024.
Ione was already halfway through her set playing in front of a woman-heavy crowd (a rarity for O’Leaver’s). Fronting a three-piece band, Ione stood alone with microphone in hand, a true pop crooner. There’s no denying she has a killer voice, polished and radio-friendly with all the familiar nuances heard on modern pop records, and I have no doubt if she keeps at it we’ll be seeing her on television one day singing a style of pop music that isn’t my cup of tea.
Interestingly, “Ione” has second persona — a side-act called Safe Space, which is a duo with her guitarist whose songs border on modern indie music a la Phoebe but not quite. She appears to be trying to cover all the bases with Safe Space, which is admirable and curious considering how much time she’s invested in her Ione brand. I was told months ago Ione was moving to Chicago. Better see her while you still can — her and he band are opening for Wyrmwood March 29 at Benson Theater.
No doubt a large portion of the crowd Saturday was there for Ione as the place thinned out for Ojai. A trio fronted by guitarist / songwriter Michael Hulstein, their set was marred by an audio mix that put the bass way out front above all else. Bassist Micah Renner indeed has awesome bass-playing chops but I doubt even he would want his bass to be so prominent in the mix – it overpowered everything on stage.
Meanwhile, Tanner Rogerson has one of the lightest touches of any drummer I’ve heard behind a kit. I kept checking to see if he was playing with brushes. Hulstein’s chiming, surf-style guitar parts were kind of great when you could hear them above the bass. His approachable vocal style is right on for songs I think I’m going to like when I hear them recorded and properly mixed. In fact, he said much of his set consisted of material from an upcoming EP. I was reminded me of Dave Doughman of Swearing at Motorists, a band I’m sure no one remembers or has even heard of, and a band that’s a lot weirder than Ojai.
Long story short, I need to see Ojai again when they don’t sound like they’re playing in a bass competition. As for O’Leaver’s — it was hot, it was smelly, it was just as I remember it from the last time I was there. Here’s hoping it never changes.
This year’s honorary Goatfest goat, Linda, was a sort of goat-ette — a miniature version of a goat whose cuteness was amplified by the diaper it proudly wore as it walked around the room adjacent to Scriptown brewery’s main room. A steady stream of parents hurriedly led their own “kids” to see Linda, forced to walk in front of the bands, the childrend with their tiny hands over their tiny ears.
Goatfest could become one of those quirky events that cities boast about in their Chamber of Commerce write-ups – a combination beer bust, rock show and livestock display, hosted annually just before St. Patrick’s Day. Or even better, they should hold it monthly on every Second Saturday as part of the new Blackstone pseudo event, that, by the looks of the crowds in the streets, is off to a roaring start.
Heavy Clippings was already deep in their set when we arrived, playing behind a large crowd bunched in the back and circling Scriptowns enormous bar. The band consists of two former members of the band Yuppies — Noah Sterba and Jeff Sedrel — along with Vince Franco and Tanner Rogerson, or as one person described them, “guys who used to hang out at Almost Music.” Stylistically, they play hypnotic post-punk, a sort of Midwestern version of Lewsberg or The Feelies with Sterba providing just the right amount of coffee-shop folk drawl.
I don’t believe the band has any recordings, or at least any online, which is a shame (Sterba, btw, has a cassette out on Chris Fischer’s Unread Records). They sound like they should be playing either at Grapefruit Records downtown alongside Simon Joyner or on the soundtrack to your favorite just-discovered indie film. Either way, I’d see them again tomorrow if they were playing somewhere…
Head of Femur at Goatfest, March 9, 2024.
On the other hand, you’ll be seeing a lot more from Head of Femur. Frontman Matt Focht announced that the band was playing a ton of new songs from their upcoming album, and I have it on good authority that the record will be released on a long-standing, proper indie label in the very near future.
Playing as a five-piece with Focht in the frontman pocket, the band ripped into a fresh set of proggy post-punk rock songs that were equal parts tuneful and challenging. Focht has a lilting, mewing voice that rides atop the sometimes complicated rhythms and melodies that are unafraid to take a quick left turn in the middle of a jam. No doubt these songs will sound completely different when heard through headphones.
Highlights included “Tomato Party” and “Gravitational F’s,” whose names I only know because the band had their boldly printed setlist lying on the floor in front of where they played. Focht is a long-time Linoma indie music veteran, known as much for his work playing drums with Bright Eyes in the early days as for his Head of Femur output. When will this new album be released? I’ll let you know when I know.
As for Goatfest, like I said, I’d love to see Scriptown make live music a regular weekend-afternoon thing. This gig always feels like a South By Southwest day party (in the best way), with the crowd enjoying good music along with Scriptown’s delectable beers and now also smoked meats from Lazy Buffalo BBQ. After meeting Linda, here’s hoping the BBQ place keeps goat off the menu.
If it wasn’t a sell-out, it was dang close, as The Waiting Room was crazy-packed Saturday night for Matthew Sweet. Just moving around in the crowd was a challenge – a crowd that consisted of people in their 40s and 50s (and older), big people, mostly dudes, many carrying two drinks at a time because they didn’t want to deal with the bar situation. I didn’t even try to get my usual Rolling Rock, knowing I would never get it in time.
Instead, with no clear path in sight, I pushed my way through the cushion-like mass of humanity toward my usual perch at stage left, only to find that the bar had set up a four-top table in that small niche on the other side of the bathrooms, making things that much more crowded. At the table, two post-middle-aged couples dressed as if attending an awards program chatted and laughed in what was probably a rare night out for them. They didn’t seem bothered that tall people stood right next to their table, blocking their view.
Sweet and his band took the stage a little after 9 p.m. Wearing a Greek sailor’s hat and mustache, he looked like a younger version of George R.R. Martin, a guitar slung over his shoulder, with wee lead guitarist John Moremen to his right, Velvet Crush bassist Paul Chastain on his left, young guy Adrian Carter between them on acoustic guitar and legendary Bangles drummer Debbi Peterson glowing perched behind her drum set.
With no fanfare they tore right into opening song “The Ugly Truth” and kept on playing the hits, mostly songs off Girlfriend and Altered Beast, with newer song “Pretty Please” from the Tomorrow Forever thrown in for good measure. Sweet was in great voice and the band was tight.
It was right after playing “Winona” that things took a bit of a turn. Sweet launched into what felt like a 20-minute story that covered everything from Valentine’s Day to his second career making cat art (bronzes, now paintings) to his new tattoo to his love for the film MIdsommer to ideas for his next album and on and on – a speech that seemed even longer for me having already heard most of it a few weeks earlier during our interview. Sweet knew he was going on too long because he said so a few times during the monologue while his band wandered about adjusting their instruments, this wasn’t the first time they’ve heard these stories, either.
I like stage patter as much as the next guy, and even feel offended when a band rifles through a set without acknowledging the audience standing right in front of them, but this massively long monologue killed the momentum the band had built up to that point in the evening, and felt like it would never stop.
But it finally did stop and the band tore right back into their performance with “Devil with the Green Eyes” and continued for seven or more songs, ending their set with favorite “Evangeline,” wherein Sweet closed the song standing alone on stage with his back to the audience creating feedback with his guitar and pedals. I could hear him start to explain what he was doing as I left the Waiting Room, missing an encore that no doubt included “Girlfriend” and “Sick of Myself,” which he’s been playing as encores throughout this mini tour.
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The Waiting Room has another terrific show queued up tonight – Yo La Tengo. This show was rescheduled from last fall to allow Georgia Hubley to recover from knee surgery. Promoted as “An Evening with Yo La Tengo,” expect to hear two sets filled with songs from throughout their career followed by an encore. The band played 22 songs at their Fort Collins show this past Saturday (the set list is here). Good thing there’s no opener. 8 p.m. start time and $35. How will it do on a Monday night?
Ironically, the last band I saw in 2023 will be the first band I see in 2024. David Nance & Mowed Sound host their LP release show tonight at Reverb Lounge. The self-titled debut on Jack White’s Third Man Records came out two weeks ago. I mentioned the Pitchfork review already. But since then Allmusic, Paste and Spectrum Culture have also weighed in.
Allmusic gave the album a 4-star rating and concluded with: “It’s anyone’s guess if David Nance & Mowed Sound represents a new direction for the frontman or just a detour on the way back to wilder things, but if his goal was to show he had some cards up his sleeve we hadn’t seen before, he succeeds brilliantly.”
Paste rated the album 8.0 – “The Nebraska musician’s latest shoulders rock music into new phenomena while remaining achingly indebted to its capacity for magic and freedom.”
Spectrum Culture gave the record a 79% rating (almost four stars) — “A surprisingly tight set of gently pan-fried country-tinged numbers from Omaha’s finest DIY rockers still contains plenty of good old American weirdness.”
High marks, almost “critical darling” territory. Heck even Matador Records co-founder Gerard Cosloy mentioned the record in on his Can’t Stop the Bleeding twitter account with this comment: “alright. for the price of a lawn GA ticket to see Neil Young & Crazy Horse, you could instead purchase David Nance’s ‘Mowed Sound” AND Ryan Davis & The Roadhouse Band’s ‘Dancing On The Edge’ and you’d still have enough left over (for a downpayment on parking to see Neil Young)”
My review?
David Nance & Mowed Sound, self-titled (Third Man Records) – This is throttled down David Nance. Restraining his usually blewsy, rough-hewn psych/garage rock, brings forth a rootsy, folk rock style more interested in songcraft than in blowing your head off, and that’s not a bad thing. And while there’s a hint of twang, as Nance says this ain’t no country album, and it ain’t. This is an old-fashioned record that should be purchased on vinyl, enjoyed one side at a time, preferably on a sun-drenched weekend afternoon. So yeah, I dig it. I’d dig it even more if he’d amped up these songs with harder riffs and longer solos, like in his good old days. Rating: Yes.
Maybe we’ll get the harder versions of these songs tonight at Reverb Lounge. Pagan Athletes opens at 8 p.m. $15. Methinks this one could sell out.
Tomorrow night, Matthew Sweet returns to the Waiting Room Stage. I wrote about Sweet and this show yesterday, if you missed it. Mobile, Alabama-based twangin’ singer/songwriter Abe Partridge opens at 8 p.m. $25.
And that is all I got. If I missed your show, put it in the comments section. Have a great weekend.
Writing about music means getting a few hundred (thousand?) pitch emails from promoters and labels per week. All get opened… if only to see if the act is coming to Omaha. If the record label is an indie favorite, or the band is familiar, the music may get a spin. Everything else gets the delete key.
But every once in a while a band sends what appears to be a personal letter asking for a listen. The following ended up in the in-box this morning, f’r instance:
Hi,
We are Stray Radio, an alternative rock band from Poland. We’ve just released a new album called “Afraid of Heights”. Maybe you will be interested in giving it a listen.
Cheers from Poland!
Is it really from Poland? Who knows. Maybe, maybe not. The internet is a wonderful, horrible thing. And despite all the phishing warnings about never clicking a link from someone you don’t know (especially if it’s a tinyurl), the plunge was taken.
Stray Radio hails from Bielsko Biala, Poland, according to their Bandcamp page. The band consists of Jan Cembala – vocal; Natalia Maliniewicz – guitar, Piotrek Góra – guitar, Marcin Maliniewicz – bass, Mikołaj Kowalczyk – drums. “All song written by Stray Radio, Mixed & Mastered by Marcin Maliniewicz, Drums recorded at Czecho Sound, Cover Design by Jan Cembala, Cover art taken from William Baxter Closson, Night Moths.”
That’s all fine, but is the music any good? Frontman Cembala is at his best when he’s not trying to emulate Jim Morrison. Just be yourself, Jan, like on tracks “Candy” or “Monday,” which are the least affected of the bunch. Clearly these guys have listened to their share of the Velvets and Iggy, and I can imagine them playing a darkly lit underground pub in, say, Katowice, each member with a cig hanging from his mouth, a lonely couple dancing close in the muted light. There are also some unfortunate metal-esque moments that remind me of ‘90s grunge, which I could have done without.
Look, I’m part Polish and the rules are very clear that when you get a cold call email from one of your Polish brethren you take it, and I’m not sorry I did… But I wonder if they’re really from Poland…
An observation about the crowd at last night’s “day-after-Christmas” concert featuring Icky Blossoms (and friends) that someone else made, which, on hindsight, seems particularly relevant: Other than ourselves and a couple folks who were with us, there were no familiar faces in the sold-out-sized crowd jammed on the floor of The Waiting Room. Demographically, the audience was young for a band that hasn’t released any new music in almost a decade (eight years since Mask, to be exact) and whose early single (the bouncy “Babes”) was released in 2012. Yet despite this, the crowd was mainly filled with anonymous 20-somethings (other than us) there to get their dance on. These Christmas concerts usually feel like millennial wedding receptions populated with the usual group of music-scene hipsters who grew up listening to the same records from the Saddle Creek label (either their own copies or their older brothers’ or sisters’ copies). This, it seemed, would be a good thing, — a reflection that the band’s audience is rotating a new generation of listeners, perhaps driven by recent song placements in video games (see Sunday’s blog entry) or (more unlikely) the after-effect of Icky Blossoms having performed at this summer’s Maha Music Festival. Either way… hope for the future?
We arrived just as PROBLEMS (a.k.a. Darren Keen) was finishing his set and the place was already jam packed. There was Darren on stage behind his synth equipment riding herd over a flock of gyrating dancers.
David Nance and Pearl Lovejoy Boyd at The Waiting Room, Dec. 26, 2023.
I grabbed my Rolling Rock and we pushed through the crowd toward the front just a David Nance and his band began their set. I’ve always been a Nance fanboy back to his Actor’s Diary (2013, Grapefruit Records) days, having watched him go from a noise collage artist through psych rock, garage rock to what he’s doing now, which resembles something that Robbie Robertson and The Band might have played during their Scorsese-filmed heydays. Nance has a crisp, golden voice with just the right amount of wheeze to give it the soul needed to power these Midwest blues-rock nuggets.
Top of the list was an uptempo rock number about “taking the covers off” with someone, which was a new one on me, and, a more laid-back-than-usual version of “Credit Line,” a cool ripper with a groovy guitar loop that, in times past, had straight-up rocked. Nance’s overall set was more subdued than any in recent memory, powered by his usual sidemen including drummer Kevin Donahue and guitarist Jim Schroeder, with Pearl Lovejoy Boyd providing tasty harmony vocals. I don’t know who that was on bass, but he was awesome.
Then on came Icky Blossoms, and by then we had pushed our way through the crowd to that dark divot off the side of the stage by the bathrooms, well out of the way of what I assumed would be a bouncing mob.
Icky Blossoms sounded as good as always, though I don’t remember seeing them play to such a large crowd. The band played their usual set drawn from their two albums, the highlights (for me, anyway) again being the dance numbers – “Babes” and “Cycle” among them. By the time they got to the night’s big raver, “Sex to the Devil,” they’d asked the lighting guy to turn off the overhead lights, leaving them illuminated only by the under-lit stage lights that strobed in sync with their music. That lighting combined with the bouncing crowd gave the room the same energy I remember from Faint concerts from back in the day.
Joining the core band of Nik Fackler, Sarah Bohling and Derek Pressnall was bass player Sara Bertuldo (See Through Dresses) and drummer Javid Dabestani – with this solid line-up, new music (reportedly) on the way and what appeared to be a fresh new audience, there’s nothing holding back Icky Blossoms except their own complicated lives. It would be fun to see them re-emerge as a modern-day dance powerhouse…
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