Performing last night in front of a crowd of around 100 in Slowdown’s front room, Pile proved it’ll be the perfect pairing for Cursive as the two launch a North American tour starting this Thursday in Fort Collins.
In this configuration, the band is a powerhouse four-piece of pure angular goodness, fronted by guitarist Rick Maguire at the height of his vocal prowess – we got him before the tour, folks.
I’ve listened to a lot of Pile albums but I don’t remember them sounding this straightforward and brutal. They rocked a shit-ton harder than anything on their last EP (of which they only played one song, a white-knuckled version of “Scaling Walls”). The pace throughout the first third of the set was breakneck (Cursive better watch out or they’ll be blown off the stage); leaving room for their weirder stuff later on (except for the set closer, but I’ll get to that in a minute).
Highlights included the set opener, a song called “Deep Clay” that must be new, followed by a head-banging rendition of “Loops” from their last LP, 2023’s All Fiction. The band reached back into the archives for “Uncle Jill” from 2010’s Magic Isn’t Real before Maguire introduced another new one, called “Meanwhile Inside,” off their yet-to-be-released new album, warning the crowd that it’s “very long.” But it didn’t seem long at all — the intricate time shifts and dynamics made for quite a ride.
Pile closed the 14-song set with yet another new one, which Maguire said wasn’t about any single person but a bunch of people. Titled “Stephen Miller,” the angular explosion was like listening to a sonic fistfight, with Maquire throwing one haymaker after another while the band crushed – perfect, angry, venomous, mosh-pit punk — exactly what we all need right now.
Cope Acidic at Slowdown, Feb. 29, 2025.
I caught the last two songs by opener Cope Acidic and wish I would have heard their whole set. Playing as a power trio, the guitarist/frontman brought shades of Bob Mould to the vocals, while the rhythm section brought the heat. Complex rhythms that never lost track of the core song, in the old days we called this style of post-punk “math rock” — an impressive outing by a band I need to see again.
Last night was the first time since before the pandemic that I attended a show in the month of January, which is historically always a shit time for touring or booking shows (especially in Nebraska). So, a good sign. We made it through what arguably is the worst month of the year in terms of rock shows, and the calendar is filling up nicely over the next few months…
It was red hot inside Reverb Sunday night (figurative and literally) for Carver Jones and the American Dreamers. Reverb was packed – quite a feat for a local show on a Sunday night by a band that’s never played there before.
I was easily the oldest person in the crowd from my vantage point standing next to the sound board. A gaggle of mostly late-teen/early-20s patrons – an equal mix of guys and dolls – pushed up front as Jones and his band entered the stage along with a couple photographers who captured images throughout the night from behind them. It was Jones’ first “headlining show,” and no doubt the footage will wind up in one of his future music videos.
Jones stood tall center stage in a white polo shirt, guitar slung over his shoulders, with drummer Max Soderberg off stage right invisible behind the crowd and bassist Alec Allhijjawi bouncing to his left. I dug Jones’ well-produced, catchy pop songs on YouTube and Spotify (they don’t have a record label). Could they pull it off live?
Well, almost. Jones’s breathy vocals struggled at times to be heard above the rock, but when they broke through they were impressive, jumping from a mid-range croon to funky falsetto. Jones kicked off the set playing two songs on acoustic guitar before strapping on his trusty Fender (named “Rose”) for single “Hit the Road (Jack)” and a couple new songs performed live for the first time. Both leaned toward the Lenny Kravitz-style rock that Jones loves. Halfway through the second song, Jones strolled over and turned up his amp before ripping into a kille solo.
But just as the crowd was getting into the set, Jones shooed his band off stage and played two quiet cover songs solo-acoustic, including a whispery version of Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car.” The vibe down-shift might have worked in a more formal setting but not in rowdy Reverb, where Jones gentle coo was drowned out by party-level crowd chatter.
It wasn’t lost on Jones, who quickly waved the band back on stage, switched guitars, and launched into a sweet cover of The Beatles “Come Together” that segued into another original followed by his latest single, “Winter,” and an earlier single. “RU Still Up?,” that was welcomed with squeals from the girls when announced from stage.
Jones closed out the night with two more bluesy Kravitz-esque numbers, again turning up his amp for some wicked solos. He should have just kept the amp at 10 all night. Upon saying “goodnight,” the crowd burst into an “encore” chant and the band played one more. Hey guys, don’t you know you’re supposed to leave and come back to the stage for the encore?
In our interview last month, Jones said he and his crew have done a lot of street busking, and that seemed evident. The band was, indeed, tight, but I got the sense they’re still learning how to get the most out of a formal stage and would benefit from rehearsing with a seasoned sound man (as well as one of his producers) to get their live show in tip-top shape prior to going out on an inevitable formal tour. Something tells me you’re going to hear a lot from these guys in the future…
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Magü at The Waiting Room, Dec. 21, 2024.
A couple other notes from this past weekend…
I caught Magü’s set at the Waiting Room Friday night. The band has changed a lot since I last saw them three years ago at Petfest. Once a guitar-heavy rock band whose sound at times bordered on shoe-gaze, Magü no longer has any guitars, and their female vocalist was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Magü consists of a keyboard/vocalist, tenor sax, trumpet, bass and drums playing loungy R&B pop tunes that border on Yacht Rock (but without guitars). Quite a shift in style!
Also, an apology and a “caveat emptor”: Cover charges for both the Carver Jones and Magu shows were more than what I published in Lazy-i. I based my prices on what was posted on the One Percent website. The Magü show ended up being $10 instead of the advertise $5; the Carver Jones show was $15 instead of the advertised $12. Why the prices jumped, I do not know, but it’s something to be aware of the next time you head to a 1% show.
It was Standing Room Only at Scriptown Saturday afternoon as Omaha psych-rock band Those Far Out Arrows helped the Blackstone-based brewery celebrate its 10-year anniversary.
It’s been awhile since we’ve seen the Arrows – August 2023 at Reverb to be exact. No doubt they’ve been busy living their best lives and haven’t had time to rock, but rock they did Saturday afternoon, unveiling a few new songs along with some old favorites (including TFOA classic “Snake in My Basement.” Fronted by the Keelan-White brothers of Ben and Evan on guitar and vocals, let’s hope we’ll get those new songs recorded and pressed on a new album (Their last outing was 2020 LP, Fill Yer Cup). We’re all waiting, dudes.
And I’ll say again: Scriptown should consider hosting weekend afternoon rock shows on a regular basis. They’re always a blast, always draw a crowd, and who doesn’t want to day-drink on the weekend, right?
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Dream Ghoul, A Forgotten Future (2024, self-release)
The massive Ice Storm of ’24 took its toll on Friday night’s Dream Ghoul show at Reverb Lounge. The band’s drummer ended up stranded on I-80 along with hundreds of other motorists. Max Holmquist said we might have to wait until February to get another chance to see the band again, which is a shame because I’m dying to see how they make their new album, A Forgotten Future, come to life on stage.
Released just yesterday on Bandcamp and on the usual streaming platforms (Spotify, etc.), the album is a dark, chiming totem of rock majesty that recalls acts like Interpol, Joy Division, Peter Murphy even Bowie’s Blackstar. Holmquist’s flat, tonal vocals cast warm, haunted echoes over that album’s trippy rhythm tracks and chiming guitars.
The liner notes describe the record as “an exploration of themes of Hauntology, lost futures, spectacle, weaponized nostalgia, and phenomenology against a back-drop of personal struggles with mental illness, paranoia, anxiety, and addiction.” Dark stuff… but with a beat!
Holmquist isn’t afraid of letting the tracks breath as needed, with songs like album highlight “The Being Always Was, 1997” rolling well past the six-minute mark. Recorded, engineered and mixed by James Schroeder (Mesa Buoy, David Nance Band, UUVVWWZ), A Forgotten Future is a shoe-gaze rock odyssey best heard with headphones. Download it here at Bandcamp for just $7.
Last night’s performance of Simon Joyner’s Coyote Butterfly at The Waiting Room was a touching tribute to Joyner’s late son, Owen – the subject of the album. Every seat was taken throughout the packed house, with many standing in the back along the bar.
Megan Siebe began the evening performing a solo cello composition on the darkened stage – a solemn, dramatic, tonal piece performed over looped portions recorded via a pedal. The album’s artwork was projected behind her – a bleak snow scape in the dead of winter. The image would later be replaced with a rotating collection of photos taken near the South Omaha Bridge – beautiful landscapes with cloud-filled skies.
Sarah Adkisson Joyner, Simon’s wife, took the stage next and said a few words about Owen and how their family had grieved following his death in August 2022. She also talked about how the music we were about to hear played a role in their grieving process, before introducing the band.
Joyner, seated center stage with his guitar, was surrounded by his friends and bandmates – David Nance on bass, James Schroeder, guitar; Kevin Donahue, drums, and Michael Krassner on guitar and keyboards. They proceeded to perform Coyote Butterfly in its entirety in track order, beginning with the field recordings and Joyner’s guitar instrumental, “Red-Winged Black Birds (March 13, 2024),” that led directly into Joyner singing alone, “I’m Taking You With Me.”
The full band then joined in on “The Silver Birch,” (with Megan Siebe on violin) and continued for what was a note-perfect rendition of the album. An exception was an epic version of “Port of Call” that featured an extended instrumental introduction showcasing the band – it felt like the evening’s centerpiece leading into a performance of the album’s title track.
Joiner didn’t speak between songs, and the audience seemed initially hesitant to applaud, perhaps wondering if it was okay to enjoy themselves while Simon poured his heart out. After the buzz of cicadas heard on the concluding field recording came to an abrupt halt (as it does on the album), the crowd again applauded and Joyner thanked everyone for being there. The evening was somber but also heart-felt and special, and will likely never be repeated.
Knowing the theme behind the recording, I dreaded listening to Simon Joyner’s new album, Coyote Butterfly (2024, Grapefruit Records).
Released last month, the record is the first collection of songs from Joyner in two years following the overdose death of his son, Owen, in August 2022. Joyner’s music is already known for leaning on the heavier topics of life; now along comes a very personal 10-track collection described as an exploration of loss through a series of imagined dialogues and raw confessions drawn from the kaleidoscopic nature of grief.
Well, after listening to the album for the past few days, my dread was unfounded. Coyote Butterfly not only is one of the most poignant collections penned by Joyner, but melodically also among the most beautiful. This is not a minor-key cry of pain, rather it’s an elegiac acknowledgement of grief, regret and acceptance from someone who has been through something no one should go through.
Despite its bleak subject matter, a number of the album’s songs could become staples in Joyner’s future set lists such as “The Silver Birch” and “Port of Call” where Joyner leans on long-time comrades and friends to accompany him – a backing band consisting of David Nance, James Schroeder, Kevin Donahue, Ben Brodin and Michael Krassner.
On the other hand, many of the songs that feature only Joyner, his guitar and voice — especially the gut-wrenching “My Lament” and the heart-breaking title track — are difficult to get through, but are far from maudlin.
AllMusic.com critic Fred Thomas, in an incisive review of the Coyote Butterfly, concluded: “The album does an amazing job of conveying how dealing with death is a journey with no destination, one spent looking for slivers of understanding and acceptance but knowing there will never be resolution. The way Joyner shares his pain with honesty and fearlessness makes these songs some of his most beautiful and connective and life-affirming even in their unimaginable grief.”
Joyner and his band will perform the album at a special seated show this Sunday at The Waiting Room. According to the One Percent Productions’ website, it will likely be the only performance of the album in its entirety. And if my notes are correct, it’ll be the first time Joyner has performed on a formal Omaha stage in almost a decade.
Singer/songwriter Megan Siebe, who has played on a number of Joyner’s previous albums, opens Sunday’s show at 6:30 p.m. Tickets are $15.
Weighing in at just under a half-hour, Violenteer’s self-titled 6-song debut EP is a tale of competing sonic identities sandwiched between two slices of bass.
The recording showcases the Cotton Brothers. In the right channel on bass is Randy Cotton, who you might remember from his work in ’90s Omaha golden age punk band Ritual Device, which was followed a few years later by metal band, Ravine. In the left channel also on bass is Barry Cotton, formerly of the band Members of the Press. These guys share a love for pounding, nihilistic-fueled metal that is like listening to one explosion after another or the dark soundtrack to a ’90s grind-core horror flick.
Cutting through the dueling basses’ thundering rumble is vocalist Steve Tulipana’s howls, growls, spoken words and the occasional sung lyric. Tulipana made a name for himself as the frontman of ’90s Kansas City noise-rock band Season to Risk.
The album is a mountain of noise/soundscapes that tumble forward at approaching-doom pace, lovingly provided by drummer Eric Ebers, another Omaha punk rock veteran from bands Ritual Device and Ravine, now a member of shoe-gaze outfit Minne Lussa. New drummer Corey Thumann has taken over behind the kit for the live band. Though overcast by a cloud of metal angst, two songs on the EP break through the darkness.
“Up the Flood” jumps forward atop a groovy, punchy drum line before breaking into monster riffs, then throttling back again to that crazy rhythm. It’s the closest thing to vintage gutter-groove Ritual Device I’ve heard since the last Ritual Device reunion show.
Then there’s “Just Another Day,” a grunge-style ballad that features Tulipana’s best vocals singing the album’s most appealing melodies. The song breaks down to an indecipherable spoken-word bombast before shifting into a Pink Floyd (a la Meddle)-style psych rock soundscape. This song, no doubt, will be the epic closer for Saturday night’s album release show at Reverb Lounge.
Joining Violenteer on this loaded four-band bill are Dance Me Pregnant (‘00s-era O’Leaver’s punk rock survivors Chris Machmuller, Johnny Vredenburg, Corey Broman and Jeff Ankenbauer), Lodgings (last I heard, their new records was in the process of being mixed) and Bad Bad Men (the Wolf-Hug-Siebken power trio extraordinaire). 8 p.m., $12.
Limited-edition 12-inch vinyl and digital download are on pre-sale at the Violenteer Bandcamp page, where you can also hear the first single from the EP.
Regular Lazy-i readers may have noticed that show listings posted on the site for The Sydney typically end with the language “start time, xx p.m., Sydney Time.” I began doing this because whenever I went to shows at The Sydney scheduled to start at, say, 9, they ended up starting at around 10:30, leaving me with 90 minutes to nurse my Rolling Rock and dead-scroll my iPhone.
Late start times were a normal thing in the pre-COVID days. Most rock shows didn’t start until well after 10 p.m. (and usually closer to 11) in an effort to draw the largest crowd (or sell more drinks). Then came COVID and shows went away. Upon their return a year or so later, venues began to run with strict military precision; specifically The Slowdown, Reverb and The Waiting Room. What used to be three-band bills that began at 10:30 and wrapped up at 1 a.m. have become two-band bills that begin at 8 p.m. and rarely run past 10. It’s a strange but welcome change, especially for old-timers who like to get to bed early.
The exception, of course, is The Sydney, who has kept operating like the pre-COVID days with late nights and multiple bands. And irregular start times.
The reason for this enormous preamble: I showed up at The Sydney at 10:30 this past Saturday night (after having drinks with an old pal of mine) to see In Tongues, Housewares and Minne Lussa, figuring at worse I’d miss part of whoever played the opening slot. I paid my $10 and rushed inside only to hear Housewares’ frontman say (paraphrasing): “Good night! Thanks to In Tongues for opening. Minne Lussa is next.”
For whatever reason, this night The Sydney decided to start the music right at 9 p.m., as advertised, typical “Sydney Time” hi-jinx.
The good news is I was able to catch an entire set by Minne Lussa, who I’ve seen perform many times over the years, but this night they never sounded better. Dressed in their finest Grand Ol’ Opry outfits I guess for irony’s sake (since they don’t play an ounce of either Country or Western music), the band shimmered both literally and figuratively beneath their Spencers Gifts-quality mood lighting.
At the heart of their music is the intricate guitar interplay between Matt Rutledge and Eric Bemberger, with Bemberger providing the more fluid, gossamer licks. This will seem uncharacteristic to anyone who only knows Bemberger from his former band, Beep Beep, whose specialty was blaring, angular post-punk. Here, Bemberger weaves his glowing, gorgeous guitar lines with Rutledge’s complimentary counters or rhythms, creating a dense, ethereal soundscape, driven forward at mid-tempo by the ace rhythm section of drummer Eric Ebers and bassist Alan Legge.
Their songs could hold up as instrumentals, but Rutledge adds warm, grotto vocals throughout, that unfortunately were undecipherable due to the poor vocal mix/PA. Bemberger provided contrasting lead vocals on one very cool song.
I guess you could call their sound dream-pop or ornate shoe-gaze, comparable to, say more laid-back My Bloody Valentine or (more appropriately) Slowdive. One fan standing next to me said they reminded him of ‘90s Portland instrumental band Pell Mell, which got us talking about Sokol Underground acts like Tresteza and The Mercury Program, though for my money, Minne Lussa is more innovative and interesting.
They closed out their set with a glowing cover of “Alison” by Slowdive, met with a nice round of applause by the 40 or so on hand. Rutledge said the band enters the recording studio Dec. 7 with producer/engineer Jeremy Garrett. More to come…
Looks like Bright Eyes is back and they’re bringing some close friends with them on the road. The band announced additional North American dates, but no make-up date for the cancelled Omaha show (due to Conor Oberst’s “voice issues”). Will the resched happen? Who knows.
The band also announced that Cursive will be joining them on the road in April for 18 gigs, including an April 26 show at Val Air Ballroom in Des Moines. In addition, Grrrl Camp 2024 stand-out band, Hurray for the Riff Raff, is touring with Bright Eyes in late February and most of March.
Now we all wait to see if this tour actually happens….
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Don’t get me wrong. It still rates a “Yes” on the Lazy-i scale, but you have to be in the mood for it…
The Cure, Songs of a Lost World (2024, Polydor)
The Cure, Songs of a Lost World (2024, Universal) — It would be a shame if this winds up being The Cure’s finale as Songs of a Lost World is mostly a dismal rehash of the dense, drone, downer music the band invented with Disintegration. But unlike that landmark album, Songs has no contrasting “Pictures of You” or “Lullaby” or “Lovesong” to counterbalance the endless thundering murmur.
The closest thing to a deviation from the drone-goth recipe are the crack-bounce “Drone:Nodrone,” which could have been the album’s biggest single, and buzz-saw rocker “All I Ever Am,” which would have been a better album closer than “Endsong,” a 10-minute black-draped snooze that highlights the biggest problem with this record – these songs just seem to crawl on and on. Whereas the 9-plus-minute “The Same Deep Water as You” from Disintegration never bores thanks in part to its sweet, playful lyrics.
Don’t go looking for anything playful in these odes to doomsday, with lines like “We toast with bitter dregs, to our emptiness” (opening track “Alone”), or “As you hold me for the last time / In the dying of the light” from “And Nothing Is Forever” or “It’s all gone, it’s all gone I Nothing left of all I loved” from album closer “Endsong.” You get the idea. Someone’s feeling old.
So who is the audience for this album? Certainly long-time Cure fans desperately looking to relieve their personal dread from 30 years ago will be satisfied as this is their best effort since 1992’s Wish. And then there’s the new, young fans who will discover The Cure for the first time. For those sad young goths, this may become their Disintegration… Rating: Yes.
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Way back in October, The Red Pears reached out for support for their show at The Waiting Room (reviewed here). I offered the Ten Questions survey. Unfortunately, they didn’t get around to filling it out until after the show had come and gone. I sat on the interview, mainly because the responses were less than forthright, but their publicist keeps asking “where is it?” so here you go, for your reading pleasure:
The Red Pears at Reverb Lounge, Oct. 12, 2024.
Ten Question with The Red Pears
These 10 questions inspired by the Pivot Questionnaire (you might remember this from Inside the Actors Studio):
1. What is your favorite album?
The Red Pears’ Jose Corona: There are many to choose from. Something we all definitely agree on are those early releases from the early 2000’s garage/indie bands. The Strokes, Arctic Monkeys, Interpol, and even things from earlier eras like Pixies and Black Sabbath. I wouldn’t say it was one album that changed everything and is above the rest. But it’s a culmination of albums.
2. What is your least favorite song?
I don’t think there is a least favorite song. I think every song and art is admired in its own ways for its own reasons. And that can change on a day-to-day basis. It’s all in the mood of things.
3. What do you enjoy most about being in a band?
I think just being able to play music with your friends. Creating art. Sharing that art. And being able to do that across states and regions and countries. And meeting other bands and people that are doing the same thing. I suppose it’s our “job,” but it honestly doesn’t feel like one. Maybe it’s a very cheesy thing that is said, but it’s true. When you love what you do, it doesn’t feel like a job.
4. What do you hate about being in a band?
I wouldn’t say hate. Hate is a strong word, haha. Things can be tiring and stressful and frustrating, but what isn’t, you know? I feel like when you encounter obstacles and problems with things that you’re not passionate about, it feels like a real chore. That’s when you hate it. But when it’s something you’re really passionate about, you find ways to overcome those obstacles and problems.
5. What is your favorite substance (legal or illegal)?
Water! Haha, it’s been saving our lives.
6. In what city or town do you love to perform (and why)?
Hometown shows always hit differently. But it’s also nice to receive warm welcomes when we’re far from home.
7. What city or town did you have your worst gig (and why)?
I wouldn’t say there’s been a worst gig. Even ones where things go wrong or don’t go according to plan aren’t the worst. They end up more so becoming lessons to learn from. Things can always be worse.
8. Are you able to support yourself through your music? If so, how long did it take to get there; if not, how do you pay your bills?
We fortunately are able to. It took a lot of years and risks and sacrifices. It still requires risks and sacrifices and just smart financial management. It’s honestly a great feeling to say that this is what we do for a living. That is something that we really cherish.
9. What one profession other than music would you like to attempt; what one profession would you absolutely hate to do?
Hmm…nothing really comes to mind. There isn’t a path that one would say is better. And if the path isn’t the path we’re on, then those are probably the paths that would bring unhappiness and dissatisfaction.
10. What stories have you heard about Omaha, Nebraska?
Nothing really! I think a nice part about touring is the traveling aspect of it. I believe this is our second time coming to Omaha. The people have been very welcoming and supportive. It’s nice to see sights and meet people that you normally wouldn’t have the chance to if it weren’t for music.
A year and a half after its grand opening and Steelhouse Omaha has lost its new-car smell. It’s been replaced with a dank, moist, pot stench that permeated the venue’s foyer and area around the bathrooms at last night’s Modest Mouse concert.
I’m told by someone “in the know” that Modest Mouse is popular with pot smokers. This is news to me, but then again, isn’t all rock music popular with pot smokers? The pot-funk disappeared once inside Steelhouse’s main hall, but the skunk eventually arrived during the band’s second set. I guess all of us non-tokers who go to concerts better get used to the scent. Imagine how bad it’ll get once grass is legalized?
That pot musk was the only thing different about Steelhouse since last July’s Fleet Foxes show. Same metal-barn atmosphere; still no place to sit down, though it appears they added new reserved seating off stage left (or I never noticed it before). The section was filled, as was most of the balcony last night, while the main floor was far from sold out (guestimate: 1,200?).
I caught the last two very low-key songs by opener Black Heart Procession. No earplugs were needed for those guys. That would change when Modest Mouse took the stage.
Playing as a six-piece with a drummer, percussionist, two guitarists, bass and keyboardist who also played cello (actually, everyone was a multi-instrumentalist), the band was razor sharp and workman-like throughout the evening. As mentioned yesterday, Modest Mouse played their breakthrough album, Good News for People Who Love Bad News, in its entirety and in track order, stopping only once to acknowledge the audience.
They followed the material note-for-note, rarely swaying from the recorded versions. Frontman Isaac Brock, looking like an older version of Roman Roy from Succession in his blue poly suit, was in perfect voice last night on songs that required more rant than range. His guitar-work was exceptional, but he really shined when he switched to banjo on a few songs starting with “Bukowski” and “The Devil’s Workday.”
I admit to never giving this album the credit it deserves, due mainly to the single “Float On,” which became the soundtrack to a million television commercials. I re-listened to the album while making dinner before the concert and realized, despite being 20 years old, its angst and paranoia has never felt more appropriate as we enter the next Trump Dark Age. Good News marked a shift from MM’s weird, chaotic, uncomfortable noise (that I loved) to more streamlined, commercial rock you might hear over the PA while shopping at your local Kroger’s. Festival gigs followed.
A stirring version of personal fave “Blame It on the Tetons” was the evening’s highlight, along with set-closer “The Good Times Are Killing Me,” which had part of the mostly-staring-still crowd singing along.
Following a 10-minute intermission, the band returned for an 8-song, proggy second set, with many songs taken from the band’s weird 2009 EP No One’s First and You’re Next, including “Satellite Skin,” “The Whale Song” and “History Sticks to Your Feet.” Unlike the previous night’s audience, we got no songs from my favorite MM album, The Lonesome Crowded West, which was a bummer.
Another bummer: I guess bands that headline these large-venue shows don’t do encores. I know, I know… in most cases encores are three-song pre-meditated extras tacked on to the main set that the band was going to play no matter what, but there was always something charming about the guys and gals walking back on stage to give a cheering crowd just a couple more. Not in this cyincal age, eh?
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Tonight at Reverb Lounge, New York-based “queer punk” band Sorry Mom headlines. Among their most popular songs are “I Fucked Yr Mom” and “Molly Sells Molly by the Seashore.” Funny, fun, more pop than punk. Sonya Luxe and Gemini Luxe open at 7:30. $18.
Prior to last Friday’s Porches show I knew very little about the band other than the brief research and listening needed to write the preview earlier that morning. I spent a few hours with their last couple albums, wherein I found their latest, Shirt, more to my liking than the previous album, if only because it was, well, less focused. Even then, frontmat/singer/songwriter Aaron Maine’s scratchy voice – augmented by electronics or autotune (or something) – often came off as meandering and twee.
What Porches presented to a crowd of around 50 Friday night at Reverb Lounge was completely different. Playing as a traditional four-piece (two guitars, bass and drums – no synths in sight), Maine and his cohorts reinvented themselves into a modern slacker-indie rock band, revving up Porches’ bedroom songs into rock anthems.
No longer tied to an auto-tuner or electronic effects (or if there was a pedal doing something, I couldn’t tell), Maine’s usual gravel whisper shifted into a full-blown growl. The comparison musically and vocally is possibly Car Seat Headrest, with Maine sounding like an adult Will Toledo if Will had grown up listening to Kurt Cobain (which he probably did).
The 16-song set (plus a three-song encore) was highlighted by rock versions of songs off the latest album (including opener “Rag,” “Joker” and “Bread Believer,”) but also drew from older material (a ripping version of “Range Rover” from 2020’s Ricky Music and crowd requested “Underwater” from 2016’s Pool were set highlights).
A live recording of Friday night’s set definitely would be on heavy rotation in my earbuds/VW car stereo if one existed. I had a similar pleasant-surprise experience when Spirit of the Beehive played at Slowdown a few years ago. That band’s albums are hard-to-swallow audio experiments to my ears, but live, they transformed into a rock-hard indie band unrecognizable from their recordings. More of that, please.
Side note: This also was one of the loudest shows I’ve seen at Reverb – my Apple Watch sound meter kept going off, warning me of high dBs. Happy I had my earplugs…
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