by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

For years, the indie music festival identified with Stinson Park in Aksarben Village was the Maha Festival. That fest is moving downtown this year, but another festival hopes to one day take its place in the village.

After three years of being held in organizer Madeline Reddel’s back yard, the Garden Party festival, which features female-fronted bands from around the country, made a giant leap to Sonny’s in Aksarben Village with Stinson Park in its sites. If Saturday’s crowd is any indication, it just might happen. 

Whenever you hold an outdoor festival, you’re rolling the dice, and this Saturday the ol’ bones came up sevens. While a bit hot in the late afternoon, the weather couldn’t have been much better. By 5:30, a respectable crowd already filled Sonny’s picnic tables and had begun to encroach on the green. Former Omahan now-Chicagoan Ione and her guitarist played to the young-ish crowd, many joined by their dogs.

When I returned after dinner, the crowd had ballooned, filling the entire green space. A long line stretched from Sonny’s bar through the partially covered patio, but moved quickly and before long I had one of their rather strong margarita’s in my hand while Keo & Them played on stage. We left again and walked over to Kinkader Brewing Co. for a beer. When we returned for headliner Abby Holliday, the crowd had peaked, but we were still able to find a place to sit down and listen just off stage right.

Sponsor support no doubt powered the festival; one being Sonny’s, which had to have enjoyed a good night’s business; another (I’m told) being Noddle Companies, the village’s primary developer. Smart investment. 

Saying the festival was “chill” would be an understatement. Convenient access, free admission and the ability to come and go as you please made it easy for patrons to enjoy the rest of Aksarben Village (including a jam-packed Inner Rail food court) and still return for more music. 

Hard to guess total attendence, but at its peak maybe a few hundred folks were enjoying the low-key indie music from Sonny’s as well as nearby green spaces and patios. While Garden Party’s talent was impressive, it will take bigger names to justify moving the festival to Stinson Park. Last year’s Grrrrl Camp Festival, held at Falconwood Park, boasted indie darlings Hurray for the Riff Raff, Mannequin Pussy and Indigo De Souza among its talent — arguably the best collection of touring indie artists at any Omaha event last year. And yet, I’m told (at this time) there’s no plans for another Grrrl Camp festival this year. 

Bigger doesn’t always translate to being better, however in Garden Party’s case, there’s plenty of room for the festival to grow…

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2025 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

Sometime around 2007, Omaha’s indie music scene had all its plates spinning in harmony — three very successful touring bands, an industry-respected record label, and two brand new, shiny venues destined to become the city’s most important indie music stages.

I began having a vision of a night when it all came together. It would be like in the film The Last Waltz, but instead of Robbie Robertson calling Neil Young or Joni to join him on stage, members from Omaha’s indie scene would come together and perform each other’s songs. After all, these bands grew up together and shared similar careers. 

But it never happened. Maybe the closest we came was 2010’s Concert for Equality in Benson, a gig that saw performances by Bright Eyes, Desaparecidos and Lullaby for the Working Class, but even then, there was no mixing and matching, no classic moment where someone came in from the wings. 

Well, last night’s Bright Eyes / Cursive concert at The Astro sort of filled that fantasy for me, at least with two iconic bands who grew out of the Nebraska scene. And it happened three times. 

The first instance came toward the the end of Cursive’s propulsive opening set, which included all the usual chestnuts (“Sierra,” “Art is Hard,” “The Martyr,”) as well as a rousing version of “What the Fuck” from the new album, Devourer, and set-closer (and personal Cursive favorite), “From the Hips.”  

Frontman Tim Kasher introduced the mashup-song, “Recluse I Don’t Have to Love,” giving no hints as to what was about to happen, simply saying, “Let’s see how this goes.” Halfway through the usual jangling version of “The Recluse” on bounded Bright Eyes frontman Conor Oberst as if he just got back from a trip to Cabela’s, wearing a camo-hoodie that partially obscured his face. He grabbed the mic and spit out lines from “Lover I Don’t Have to Love,” perfectly melding it with “The Recluse.” The crowd of around 1,200 (in my guestimation) went wild.

But the real mash-up moments came during Bright Eyes’ workman-like set. When the band first kicked off its tour late last year in support of their latest album, Five Dice, All Threes (2025, Dead Oceans), YouTube videos began popping up showing a groggy, out-of-it Oberst struggling to get through the night. Fans lambasted his performances on social media. In mid-September, the band announced it was cancelling or postponing tour dates “on the advice of doctors,” including an upcoming appearance at Riot Fest and a show at Steelhouse Omaha. Oberst reappeared in an online video in mid-October saying he “was feeling a lot better” and that the tour would go on in 2025 “if all goes well as planned.”

Well, it obviously has, as Oberst appeared to be recovered from whatever ailed him last year.  Considering last night’s Astro concert was the last of this leg of the tour, one would expect his voice to be slightly ragged, but Oberst was in fine voice throughout the night, preforming a 19-song set and three-song encore that included selections from throughout the Bright Eyes catalog. 

Among the highlights were rousing versions of “Mariana Trench,” “Shell Games,” and a cover of Daniel Johnston’s “Devil Town.” Joining the core band of Mike Mogis and Nate Walcott were drummer Conner Helms Conor Elmes, bassist Alex Levine and multi-instrumentalist/vocalist MiWi La Lupa. Oberst did his usual politicizing when he introduced “Old Soul Song (for the New World Order),” imploring fans to do something – anything – to protest against actions of the current administration. “I, for one, do not plan to live in Elon Trump’s fascist wet dream,” he said. The crowd roared with approval. 

But for me, the set’s high-water mark came when Oberst called members of Cursive to the stage to join him on a couple songs. First was a stunning version of “Nothing Gets Crossed Out,” from 2002’s Lifted, with Kasher handling most of the lead vocals and cellist Megan Siebe adding layers of emotional depth. 

The second came during the encore. Oberst again called for Cursive, but especially for Ted Stevens, who would sing leads on a cover of Lullaby for the Working Class song “Hypnotist (Song for Daniel H.),” from 1997’s I Never Even Asked for Light. Stevens fronted Lullaby before joining Cursive. Siebe again joined him onstage along with drummer Pat Oakes.  In both cases, Oberst joined in on vocals, and it was very much the kind of shared moment I’d always dreamed of. Siebe and Oakes remained on stage for a boisterous version of “Let’s Not Shit Ourselves (to Love and to Be Loved)” that closed out the night in celebratory style.

Now if we could only get The Faint to join Bright Eyes and Cursive on a tour…

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2025 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

Last night’s Bob Mould/Craig Finn concert at The Waiting Room was a crowded house of graying temples and vintage concert T’s worn by eager (sometimes chatty) aging hipsters paying their respects to a rock god, who at age 64 is very much alive. 

The crowd was so immense that after winding your way up the club’s front steps and past the seated dude scanning tickets you were met with the crush of humanity that seemed packed asses-to-elbows all the way to the stage on the other side of the room. In other words, a typical sold-out Waiting Room show. 

I didn’t even try to get a Rolling Rock as we were only moments away from Finn’s opening set. Somewhere in the darkness, a dense fist smacked me on my right shoulder – either a greeting or a warning – I still don’t know who it was because I was determined to make my way through the crowd. 

A pro-tip about sold-out Waiting Room shows: No matter how crowded it seems, you can always squeeze through as if headed to the bathrooms and instead find an opening to stand only a few feet from stage left, which is where I was for most of the show surrounded by a herd of middle-aged dudes holding cans of beer. The guestimated average age was 50, almost all guys, though later in the evening I saw a woman using a walker who had to be in her late 70s (and having a great time).

Usually at these shows a smattering of youngsters are peppered in the crowd, but last night, the “youngsters” were dudes in their 30s. The idle talk between sets – will Mould play songs from his days in Hüsker Dü – a band that broke up in 1988, 37 years ago. 

With Mould’s reputation for being one of the loudest performers to come out of the indie underground, Craig Finn proved to be quite a contrast for an opening act. The bookish frontman of aughts-era indie rock band The Hold Steady took to the stage with an acoustic guitar and a sideman carrying a variety of wind instruments (saxophone, clarinet), for a quiet 9-song set of story-songs, many taken from his latest album, Always Been. 

With a warm, Midwestern drawl, Finn came off like a combination of Randy Newman, John Darnielle (of The Mountain Goats) and short-story humorist David Sedaris singing/telling short stories about broken people forced to settle for whatever their desperate lives had become, all sung in his trademark nasal voice. It was like a kinder, gentler version of his Hold Steady output, but accompanied by a guy on saxophone instead of an electric guitar.

Before beginning, Finn said he had no allusions of competing with his hero, Mr. Mould, in a rock and roll contest, but I doubt he knew he’d have to compete with the rising roar of idle chatter that grew in the back of the room throughout his set. By the set’s mid-point, the crowd noise became distracting, but apparently not to Finn, who soldiered through if only for the attentive, respectful audience leaning toward the stage.

Right around 9:15, on came Mould dressed for work in black T-shirt, blue jeans, and a standard issue black-and-white Fender Strat (but, I’m told, a deluxe model with the LSR roller roller nut and lace sensor pickups, whatever that means). 

All business, Mould roared into his opening song, “Star Machine,” from 2012’s Silver Age album, and rarely stopped 26 songs later. His stamina was impressive, never letting off the gas pedal for 90 minutes of impassioned yelling/singing acompanied by his riff-fueled guitar histrionics, all fueled by what has become his go-to rhythm section of bassist/backing vocalist Jason Narducy and drummer Jon Wurster.

Despite the 35-degree windchill outside, the Waiting Room was a hot-house sauna. I was told Mould had requested no air conditioning in an attempt to save his voice and by the third song he was dripping sweat and his round book-keeper-style glasses were partially fogged over.

The set was front-loaded with songs from solo albums only dating back 13 years, many of which I was unfamiliar with. But even with this material, people up front were locked into the performance. The standouts in the first half were “Black Confetti” from 2016’s Patch the Sky and “American Crisis” from 2020’s Blue Hearts, along with the title track off the new album, Here We Go Crazy.

The second half kicked off with a moving version of “Hardly Getting Over It,” which would be one of seven Hüsker Dü classics, including four that closed out the set.

Mould shows – even the acoustic ones – have a reputation for being painfully loud, but last night’s show didn’t seem so bad, or at least it started out that way. The volume built up over time and midway through my iWatch warned me of 110 dBs. Earplugs became my best friend. Surprisingly, few around me also wore ear plugs, but I guess at their age it didn’t matter — the price for living a rock and roll lifestyle. 

What were the other Hüsker Dü songs performed last night? “Celebrated Summer,” “Flip Your Wig,” “Love Is All Around,” “Something I Learned Today,” and set-closer “Makes No Sense at All.” 

By the end of the evening I’d moved to the back of the room both to snag a T-shirt before the inevitable merch-table deluge and to stretch out after standing in one spot for nearly two hours. I was joined by many of the fans who had stood near the stage early in the set, all of them no less locked into the music. 

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2025 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

I know I say this every year, but GoatFest, the annual bacchanal that took place at Scriptown Brewing Company this past Saturday, should be held every week, or at least every month, or at least once a season. 

The brewery, located in the Blackstone District, was loud and packed at 3 p.m. with folks throwing back glasses of bock beer and yelling over the bands rocking out by the back exit. With their overhead doors wide open along Harney Street, the music could be heard blocks away by neighbors out soaking in the pre-spring warmth. 

It reminded me of another mainly outdoor event that’s taking place this week in Austin, Texas – the South By Southwest Festival day parties. There’s something special about day drinking at afternoon rock shows. And Scriptown booking  psych-rock garage bands only adds to the event’s allure. 

Cowgirl Eastern certainly fit right in. The Omaha-based five-piece boasts the classic “two-drummer configuration” – the kits set up facing each other – along with two guitars and bass. It was the loudest band I’ve ever heard at GoatFest (and I’ve been to all of them), but it didn’t kill the acid-colored vibe of their ultra-vivid, fuzzed-out sound. Very ‘60s, kind of bluesy, hippie but not in a jam-band sort of way. 

Despite the crowd gathered around the band, people still managed to push their way through the throng to the back exit, where just outside a temporary livestock pen held three precocious goats. Two guys who I assumed were the the goats’ wranglers discussed livestock-related issues while sunglassed hipsters held pints in one hand while petting the goats with the other. 

Cowgirl Eastern was followed by another local act, Velvet Velvet, who ripped into an improvised version of “Sweet Home Alabama” as their ad hoc soundcheck, a hint of the southern-rock influenced material heard during the first part of their set, which was all I was able to stick around four, though I made a mental note to check out both bands the next time the play a proper venue. 

Scriptown was designed to be a beer tasting room, not a music venue, and it was evident by the blown-out stage-right PA speaker that fuzzed up the vocals. I doubt many people either noticed or cared as they were having such a good time. 

Which brings us back to the original statement – Scriptown should host GoatFest more than once a year. I mentioned this to one of the organizers, who told me the brewery does do special events during Blackstone’s “Second Saturday” efforts. Still, he wasn’t convinced they could draw such a large crowd on a weekly or monthly – or monthly – basis. He may be right, but we’ll never know unless they take the gamble, at least during the warm months…

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2025 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

The Omaha Film Festival (OFF) kicks off next Tuesday with screenings at Aksarben Cinema and runs through March 16. You can read all about it right here. 

A couple weeks ago, one of the festival’s documentary film makers sent me a link to an online stream of the film, The Opener, which is being screened Saturday, March 15 at 2:30 p.m. 

Directed by Jeff Toye and produced by Sunya Mara – the duo does all the filmmaking – The Opener documents what happened when singer/songwiter Philip Labes was “discovered” via algorithmic chance by Grammy-winning singer/songwriter Jason Mraz. Seems Labes was doing one of his many live-stream TikTok performances and Mraz just happened to be among the 30 online listeners. As a result, Mraz invited Labes to open eight dates of his East Coast tour. 

The film follows Labes as he tries to make the most of his big break. More than just a “star discovery” story, The Opener also is a comment about the perceived futility of making art, life during the pandemic (when Labes began to generate his online following), how TikTok can create stars, the generosity of fame and the outcome of persistence. 

Pulling it together is Labes’ music and chipmunk-like personality. Raised middle class in Palm Springs (his father an amateur musician who also tried his hand at music in his youth), we see Labes during his shuttered COVID year, toiling at songwriting, held captive by fear in his tiny apartment. 

Mraz’s influence can be heard in Labes’ music. Mostly performed alone on acoustic guitar, the well-crafted songs sounded like modern Broadway versions of nice Mountain Goats tunes (regular goers of modern musicals will recognize what I’m talking about). They’re sweet, clever, often self-deprecating life stories that attempt to capture Labes’ COVID angst. 

Clocking in at an hour and 12 minutes, the first half focuses on Labes’ during COVID while the balance of the film covers the tour’s ups and downs, and the lengths Labes will go to get his music heard. Smart editing and Labes’ performances keep things moving. The only thing missing was the usual epilogue card that explains what happened to Labes after the tour. Did performing with Mraz push him to the next level? We’ll have to find out on our own. 

. 0 0 0 . 

Joining Jake Bellows (of Neva Dinova fame) for his usual Thursday night gig at Pageturners is Boston guitarist Ethan WL. His second solo album “in the American Primitive Guitar style,” Blood Farm, was releases last summer on Carbon Records. Omaha singer/songwriter Sean Pratt kicks things off at 7 p.m. and there’s no cover.

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2025 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

If anything, last night’s Molchat Doma/Sextile show at Steelhouse Omaha proved that the massive, blimp-hangar-style facility can host shows that only draw 1/3 of its capacity and still feel like an important event.

Los Angeles electronic-fueled post-punk act Sextile — no stranger to Omaha — was up first and scored the better of the two performances, thanks to a shorter set and more varied and frenetic music. Sextile’s heart-racing, jittery rhythms, infectious bass lines and unlimited energy generated by three bouncing musicians did everything it could to get the (guess-timated) crowd of around 1,000 moving. 

Throughout their 10-year careers, Sextile has always been more punk than post-punk, and never moreso than on their aggressive new album, Yes, Please., slated for release May 2 on Sacred Bones Records. New songs like “Women Respond to Bass,” “Kids,” “S Is For” and set closer “Resist” — wherein vocalist/instrumentalist Melissa Scaduto hoisted a flag emblazed with “Abortion Rights Now!” — were among the night’s highlights. 

Long-time Sextile fans yearning for past glories were not disappointed. The set opened with 2018 favorite “Disco,” and included tracks “No Fun” and “Contortion” from 2023’s Push. Instrumentally, Scaduto and fellow front-person Brady Keehn impressed with their stick-work and knob twirling when not spitting lyrics at the crowd. 

A fellow concert-goer pointed out the music would be perfect at 2 a.m. in a crowded, smoke-filled warehouse while high on some unidentified substance, instead of at 8:30 on a Monday night drinking a lukewarm microbrew. Maybe that’s why so few were moving on the floor beyond the edge of the stage. Ah, to be honest, the only band I’ve seen turn an Omaha crowd that size into a bouncing a mob was The Faint.

Shortly after 9 p.m., Molchat Doma took the blackened stage, each band member staking out his territory – bassist Pavel Kozlov stage left, guitarist Roman Komogortsev stage right, and frontman Egor Shkutko dead center. And that’s where they stayed throughout the evening while someone somewhere controlled the prerecorded synth and rhythm tracks that fueled the performance. 

“We are Molchat Doma from Minsk, Belarus,” Egor quietly declared after the first song. “Dosvedanya.” 

The basic song recipe involved a drone/tone intro followed by a kick-ass rhythm track, Pavel’s bassline and Roman’s guitar. It’s easy to point out the obvious influences – Depeche Mode, The Cure, Joy Division, etc. A fellow concert-goer gave nods to Nitzer Ebb and Front Line Assembly.

But despite the rump-shakingly infectious rhythms and guitars, Egor’s dark, bosso voice eventually transported listeners to a drab, Soviet-era landscape covered in brutalist architecture. It was like listening to a soldier sing mournful Russian-language anthems over a wicked EDM loop.

Early in the set, the audience, which included a lot of younger people dressed in black, many donning their best goth styles and make-up, merely nodded their heads to the beat. But as you walked deeper into the crowd, you noticed the bodies moving oh so subtly, the energy increasing closer to the stage. I’m unsure where these fans came from, as Molchat Doma has never played Omaha before and isn’t heard on local radio. The answer is probably those viral TikTok videos, apparently as popular here as in Eastern Bloc countries.

Despite shifts in rhythm and melodies — and instrumental interludes (in one instance, Pavel and Roman met centerstage and exchanged riffs) — the music’s “sameness” was unescapable thanks to being draped in dirge-like vocals. How would their music sound with English-language pop vocals? No doubt it would lose its gravitas — and to some, become more interesting — but it would never be Molchat Doma. And to that, all I can say is “Dosvedanya.”

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2025 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

By Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

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. 

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…

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2025 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

by TIm McMahan, Lazy-i.com

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…

. 0 0 0. 

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. 

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2024 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

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? 

. 0 0 0 . 

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.

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2024 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.

by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

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. 

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2024 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.