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…
How does The Astro in La Vista — the city’s newest large-scale concert hall — compare to Steelhouse Omaha, the downtown music venue that is The Astro’s direct competition? Let’s start at the beginning…
We didn’t get to The Astro for last night’s Psychedelic Furs/Jesus and Mary Chain (JAMC) show until about a quarter to 8, knowing we would likely miss all of opening act Frankie Rose. Despite entering “La Vista City Centre” through the wrong entrance, we managed to find the parking garage and navigate the electronic-only payment system (just $5!), where we found a spot on the third floor.
The garage was a five-minute walk to the venue, whose “Astro” signage was turned off — maybe it’s already broken, which would be a shame since it just opened this past December.
Security and drink wristbands were handled outside the venue, and this is where we hit our first speed bump. Having not read the venue’s “fine print,” we discovered too late that they only allow purses measuring 4.5 inches by 6.5 inches. Teresa’s purse was 6.51 inches wide, barely over the limit but enough for security to tell her to take it back to the car (without asking to look inside for a concealed bomb or hidden shiv). Welp, security is security, and Teresa hoofed it back across City Centre. I waited outside, next to three or four other people whose spouses also had been turned back.
Ah, but once she returned, we got right in. You enter on the balcony level, so we were immediately directed to a stairway that led to the main floor (there must have been an elevator somewhere, though we never saw it). Down, down, down we went through the Astro’s concrete esophagus that opened to the venues bright, glistening bowels.
The best way to describe The Astro: It kind of feels like a giant-sized Slowdown. Whereas Steelhouse is long and somewhat narrow, Astro is stubby and wide, with a huge tiered main floor surrounded by a walkway. Drink bars are located on either side and in back (the back bar was closed). Everywhere you looked, it was shiny and new with the space dominated by the enormous, eye-popping stage.
From in front of the stage looking toward the Astro’s balcony.The Close Encounters of the Third Kind Astro stage.The Astro’s Q*Bert floor tiles near the back bar.Booze. The Astro has plenty. See above for prices. Odd that there are no oz in the beer list. My Modelo was a tall boy, whereas Teresa’s Fairy Nectar was 12 oz. Astro is cashless and the POS system worked great.The Astro’s soundboard area, minus the drunk lady.
We had “table tickets,” whatever that meant. Did they include chairs? They did – big, white high stools. We were led to our table, where one of Astro’s ushers quickly gave us a second wristband. Look, you can’t beat these seats if you don’t want to stand for three hours. They only cost a few bucks more than general admission, but are cheaper than balcony seats (We were never allowed upstairs, so I can’t vouch for the balcony, but it looked cushy up there). We must have been close to an exit, because cigarette (and pot) smoke wafted through all evening.
Sight lines from our seats were nothing less than spectacular, but the sight lines throughout the entire concert hall were pretty great. Maybe because only about 1,000 people were in attendance, but getting around was easy.
The Jesus and Mary Chain at The Astro, Oct. 22, 2024.
And so, the show itself. Like I said we missed the opener, who must have went on at the stroke of 7 p.m. The Jesus and Mary Chain hit the stage at 8 and played most of the set without front lights, so they were mostly shadows against back lighting. I guess the Reid brothers don’t want people to see their wrinkles.
When I saw JAMC at SXSW a decade ago, the feedback-fueled set was intense, loud and frenetic, at times chaotic and threatening to cause a riot in the packed outdoor venue (The Belmont). Last night’s JAMC set was the opposite – the band rifled through the same set list they played the night before in St. Louis, barely stopping between songs, while the crowd stood and watched, motionless. It had all the energy of an industry mixer.
To the uninitiated, all JAMC songs kind of sound the same, and three or four tunes into their set folks seemed to return to their conversations, albeit at louder volumes — a very chatty crowd. Sound-wise, the mix seemed “boomy,” and when Reid said something to the audience between songs it was nothing but booming echo. Still, the actual songs’ vocals were pretty good and cut through the mud.
During the set I got up and took a stroll to check out the sound and sight lines, making my way back to the soundboard in the back center of the floor. While a couple dudes did their thing lit up by the enormous soundboard, I noticed what I thought was a gaffer lying on his stomach with his arms outstretched working on wiring at the back of the sound area. “Good on you, bub, get in there and fix whatever’s broken,” I thought.
But when the guy rolled to his side I discovered it was actually a lady apparently passed out, her red hair soaking in a puddle of ooze. One of the sound guys noticed at the same time and took off, and within seconds a dozen cops and first-aid people surrounded the lady, who by then had come to, and I assume was rushed off to the “chill-out tent” or wherever they take people to recover. Ah, rock concerts.
JAMC wrapped up their set with no encore (neither band is playing encores on this tour), the lights came up and the stage guys immediately went into action for the switch over. The between-set drone soundtrack was indistinguishable rumble noise.
Psychedelic Furs at The Astro, Oct. 22, 2024.
Like JAMC, The Psychedelic Furs played the same set as they had the previous night in St. Louis. Frontman Richard Butler was in perfect voice, strolling the stage, leaning into the two young guitarists or his brother, Tim, playing bass. Again, the mix felt boomy, but the vocals were spot on and the zombie-like, mostly middle-aged crowd seemed to appreciate the hit-filled set.
The band wrapped up with the hit “Heaven,” and again rushed off the stage sans encore. The lights came up, we headed back up those stairs and were immediately ushered out of the building. What about band merch? I want my $50 T-shirt! I never saw a merch booth and didn’t try to get back in find it.
Final stages: Exiting the parking garage was a breeze. Organizers must have put a lot of thought into avoiding logjams – in and out and on your way. City Centre itself at night was desolate. While there were a few businesses aglow (a pub/restaurant, for example), we passed a lot of unoccupied buildings. One brightly lit interior exposed mounds of dirt and naked cinderblocks.
So, back to the original question: Which is better: Astro or Steelhouse? Hands down I’d rather see a show at The Astro. Its smaller size makes for a more intimate experience while still providing a big, impressive stage with great sight lines and seating options. Sound wise, it’s hard to compare the two especially based on these bands. The Astro had a boomy, auditorium sound vs. Steelhouse’s bright, shimmery hall quality. More research is needed.
Unfortunately, based on both venues’ previous bookings, that isn’t likely to happen. This was the first (and only) show booked at Astro that attracted my attention. Let’s face it, indie music geeks are neither venues’ target audience.
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Speaking of indie geeks…
Tonight at The Slowdown, Brit-award winning singer/songwriter Kate Nash headlines. Her most recent album, 9 Sad Symphonies, was released this past summer by Kill Rock Stars. Her “breakthrough” was 2010’s My Best Friend Is You (Fiction Records), that Pitchfork called “thrillingly schizophrenic.” New Hampshire act Revenge Wife and Kill Rock Stars label mate Joh Chase open the show at 8 p.m. This one’s in the main room, I assume because Nash also starred in the Netflix lady wrasslin’ series GLOW, where she played “Rhonda “Britannica” Richardson. Sorry I missed that one. $30.
Ambitious fans of the band Cursive who attended both nights of their two-night stand at The Waiting Room this weekend were rewarded with two very different sets.
In addition to playing (only) four songs from the new album, Devourer, (including personal fave “Dark Star,”), Saturday night’s 19-song set spanned the full Cursive catalog, reaching back to their ’97 album Such Blinding Starts for Starving Eyes (“Downhill Racers”), through 2018’s Vitriola (a sublime rendition of “It’s Gonna Hurt”) as well as the usual hits (“The Martyr,” “Dorothy at Forty,” “From the Hips”).
Cursive’s Matt Maginn, left, and Tim Kasher.
If you didn’t hear your favorite Saturday night, you might have heard it Friday night, when the band switched things up and played hits “Staying Alive,” “Sink to the Beat” and “The Lament of Pretty Baby,” among others. In all, the band performed 30 different songs over two nights, and still left off some favorites (“The Casualty,” “Big Bang,” “Remorse” (my personal favorite, anyway)).
I’m not surprised frontman Tim Kasher can remember all the words to all those songs; however, I can’t understand how drummer Pat Oakes remembered every fill, flourish and slight rhythm change, especially since he’s relatively new to the band. Ah, but Oakes — like most of us in the audience — grew up listening to Cursive. Still… that’s a heavy lift, and Oakes was a standout Saturday night.
So was cellist Megan Siebe, who provided vocals whether the songs called for them or not, singing along throughout the entire set with eyes firmly shut, head a blur hidden beneath her long hair that hung down over her strings. If Kasher is the busiest person in show business (He just sold a feature film that he wrote and directed), Siebe is the second busiest as a full-time member of Neva Dinova (fantastic new album!) as well as writing and recording her own material.
Cursive veterans Matt Maginn and Ted Stevens remain the band’s bedrock (Ted was in fine voice and had me wondering about the next Mayday performance). Versatile Patrick Newbery seamlessly switched between trumpet and keyboards all night, and killed, as per usual.
At the heart of it all was the ageless Kasher, who put his soul into every song whether howling out a classic like “The Martyr” or a new one like “Botch Job.” He, along with this band, hasn’t lost a step in all the years I’ve been watching them – and it’s been a lot of years.
Criteria’s A.J. Mogis, left, and Stephen Pedersen at The Waiting Room Oct 12, 2024.
Stephen Pedersen and his band, Criteria, also has been at it for a long time. Despite an impressive catalog of songs that stretches back more than 20 years (Debut album En Garde was released in 2003), the band has their eyes firmly focused on the future, as evidenced by having played seven new, unreleased songs when they opened for Cursive Saturday night.
Each song sounded like classic Criteria, many of them swinging on an iconic 3/4 or 6/8 waltz time that forced listeners to sway to the beat as if balancing on a ship’s deck in rough waters. The new songs are love-inspired anthems, with lines like “My head / your heart,” “You make me whole” and “Stay, at least today.” Pedersen’s songs of devotions were quite a contrast to Kasher’s angst-filled midlife confessions.
When Criteria finished auditioning the new material, they switched back to an older number that, quite frankly, felt stodgy and flat in comparison. Ah, but the energy returned by the time they got to perennial crowd-pleaser and (let’s face it, theme song) “Prevent the World,” which sounded much like it did the first time I heard them sing it nearly 20 years ago.
So what will become of this new Criteria material? One assumes it’ll be recorded and released, but by which record label? Cursive, whose new album was released by Run for Cover Records, seems to have walked away from the label they run – 15 Passenger Records – who released Criteria’s last LP. Could a return to Saddle Creek be in the making for Criteria? The Creek could be so lucky…
Gladie opened Saturday’s show at The Waiting Room.
I showed up at Reverb Lounge Saturday night at around 9 figuring I’d missed the opener when, in fact, there were two opening acts. The door guy said High Curbs already played, and Ultra Q was up next for a short set before Red Pears.
I always try to catch opening acts when possible, at least half their set, anyway. I’d never heard of Ultra Q and was surprised at the crowd’s size (around 100) and enthusiasm. As well as the number of older folks flecked among the kids.
On came Ultra Q. Their website has no bio information, so I was flying blind. In the old days, you’d call their sound “power pop,” just bordering on the edge of emo, but with more straightforward – at time straight-4 – rhythms. The drummer was ultra clean and economic in his approach and drove the whole band. In fact the entire band was well-honed.
Ultra Q at Reverb Lounge, Oct. 12, 2024.
Ah, but the vocalist… while his voice was fine, he had an affected style that clearly sounded as if he was aping Billy Joe Armstrong from Green Day (with the lead guitarist dropping in a few out-of-place hardcore growls).
Looking at the notes I wrote that night: “Bay Area band, great energy, great drummer and guitarist, but… Green Day vocals.” Well, the vocal similarities can be forgiven, because it turned out the lead vocalist was Jakob Armstrong, son of Green Day’s Billy Joe Armstrong. You get a pass if you sing like your dad. Interestingly, the band’s music had more in common with early Cure than Green Day. No songs stood out, but with that talent it’ll be interesting to see where they take their sound.
Maybe that explained the crowd’s demographics (and why all the chairs had been removed from the club)?
The Red Pears had been advertised as a trio, but there were five dudes on stage at 9:40. Listening to their latest album, Better Late than Never (2024, Daycare Records), I couldn’t figure out where the “Latin tinged” came from in the one-sheet, other than the guys’ names (frontman Henry Vargas, bassist Pat Juarez, drummer Jose Corona).
Their sound certainly wasn’t Latin-tinged, more like indie post-punk a la The Strokes, bordering on White Stripes’ psych-rock. Actually, they reminded me of Sheer Mag (“Expect the Bayonet”), and vocalist Vargas even sported a masculine version of Christine Halladay’s snarl.
After a couple songs, one of the five musicians left the stage and the Pears played the rest of the set as a four-piece. And then, four or five songs or so in, Vargas sang some Spanish lyrics. Latin-tinged indeed. Great band.
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It’s back to Reverb Lounge tonight for Advance Base, a project of Chicago singer/songwriter Owen Ashworth of Casiotone for the Painfully Alone. His latest EP, The Year I Lived in Richmond (2024, Run for Cover), is a lonely, sparse collection of quiet, keyboard-accompanied memory songs. Pretty. Joining him is UK singer/songwriter Katie Malco, who has worked with the likes of Laura Stevenson and SOAK in the past. Our very own Jim Schroeder opens this show at 8 p.m. $15.
While undoubtedly indie in nature, MJ Lenderman and his band, The Wind, really have embraced the whole classic rock persona. On stage last night at The Waiting Room they looked like they could have walked right off the back cover of a ’70s-era rock album by your choice of Laurel Canyon superstar. Why, that guy on rhythm guitar looks like he was in Buffalo Springfield! That guy on keyboards and maracas, didn’t he play with Den Felder?
All six musicians were super talented, and I like just about all of Lenderman’s songs, especially off his new album, Manning Fireworks, which will go down as one of the best of 2024. There’s an honesty to his personal lyrics as they lean back on a layer of subtle rock that’s just shy of alt-country (thanks, in part, to that pedal steel, played by a guy who looks like he could have been in the Flying Burrito Brothers).
Lenderman and his band rifled through their hits, and as I stood back by the bar, a guy I know leaned over and yelled, “I thought they’d be more lively than this.”
I responded, “Have you ever heard their albums?”
Lenderman’s music is best enjoyed while driving on a long road trip, the kind of music you can get lost in and sing along to (after you’ve heard it a few times). But on stage it was kind of dull. Ocassionally Lenderman would go into a feedback-driven accoutrement at the end of a song (that went on too long). In a way, he reminded me of Tom Petty, a guy whose music I love, but, live, bores the piss out of me. Or maybe I’m just jaded after last week’s Fountaines D.C. show…
That said, the near-capacity crowd soaked it in, with many up by the stage singing along. But the further back you went, the chattier the crowd became, with people having full-blown conversations back by the bar (actually, I saw a couple women carrying on about their day right up front, yelling at each other over the band).
Ryan Davis and the Roadhouse Band at The Waiting Room, Oct. 10, 2024.
Much more lively was opening act Ryan Davis and the Roadhouse Band. I arrived late, not feeling in the mood for a set of southern or “blues” rock, and ended up kicking myself for it, because Davis and his band had more in common with acts like Silver Jews.
Davis closed out his set with a killer version of the opening track from his 2023 album, Dancing on the Edge, called “Free from the Guillotine,” which I’m listening to right now; an album I’ll likely be listening to all weekend long…
Onto the weekend (and it’s a non-Husker weekend at that!).
Tonight on Slowdown’s big stage Provo folk-rockers The National Parks headlines. The band has grown its fanbase over the years; they’re on the road supporting their latest, Wild Spirit, another album of hand-clap-stomp folk (I’m sure there’s another name for the genre). Elias Hix opens at 8 pm. $25.
Also tonight, ’70s-style heavy-metal punkers Psychotic Reaction plays at The Sydney. Local electronic act Benjamin Gear X opens at 8 p.m. (and remember, this is The Sydney, where 8 usually means 9… or 10). $10.
As mentioned, the Huskers have a by-week, which makes for good timing for Farnam Fest. Running from 3 to 11 p.m. in the parking lot behind Scriptown in the Blackstone District, the live music line-up is:
– 4 p.m. – Minne Lussa
– 5:30 p.m. – Velvet Velvet
– 7 p.m. – Cowgirl Eastern
– 8:30 p.m. – Clarence Tilton
– 10 p.m. – DJ Herricane Cole
$10 entry this year; with food trucks and booze, etc.
Saturday night, Reverb Lounge is hosting garage-rock trio The Red Pears. Hailing from El Monte, California, that band calls their sound “Latin-tinged” and I guess I can hear that, though they have more in common with The Strokes, at least to my ears. They’ve played Coachella a couple time and are a good get for the tiny Reverb stage. Ultra Q + The High Curbs open at 8 p.m. $25.
Also Saturday night, The Sydney is hosting a 4-band bill headlined by Jeff in Leather with Ex-Lover, Public Circuit and Pagan Athletes. $15, 9 p.m.
And (surprise!) there’s a show at fabulous O’Leaver’s Saturday night — metal band Living Conditions with FACE and Spurney’s Hawk. This one’s free and starts at 9 p.m.
Finally, Sunday night it’s back to The Sydney (man, they’re booking a lot of shows!) for darkwave performer Dancing Plague. $12, 9 p.m.
And that’s all I got. If I missed your show, put it in the comments section. Have a great weekend.
Though exhausting, last weekend was the best weekend of indie music Omaha has seen in quite a while. It also was a weekend of broad musical contrasts. Let’s start at the beginning…
Based on the publicity and online buzz, I thought Friday night’s Brigitte Calls Me Baby concert at Reverb would possibly sell out before I had a chance to get to the venue (as we had another successful art opening at Ming Toy Gallery earlier that evening that kept me “bartending” ’til 9). To my surprise, the club was merely comfortably full when I arrived.
Brigitte Calls Me Baby at Reverb Oct. 4, 2024.
Looking more like posh ‘80s post-glam Londoners than five lads from Chicago, the band tore into their catalog, which consists mostly of their debut album, The Future Is Our Way Out (2024, ATO), a pointedly retro-sounding collection of rock songs clearly influenced by ’80s “new wave” MTV icons. Pick your favorites: Dream Academy, Roxy Music, Modern English, and yes, undeniably, The Smiths/Morrissey.
Like most of us who grew up in that era, I love those bands and that style of music. The boys in Brigitte must love it as well, as they aped that sound with a capital A. First-rate musicians all, they were honed to recording-quality perfection, no doubt thanks to endless rehearsals and touring.
Frontman Wes Leavins is one of the most talented male vocalists I’ve heard in some time. Flawless. He, along with the rest of the guys on stage in their black suit jackets and big hair, resembled the prom band from your favorite John Hughes coming-of-age flick — a perfect fit for an audience where middle-aged (and older) dudes outnumbered young girls by two-to-one.
But unlike those influential ’80s bands, Brigitte showed zero passion while performing. The gig felt very much like a SXSW industry event where the band shuffles on stage and plays their catalog without acknowledging the middle-aged audience of industry slubs standing in judgement.
These talented hairdressers looked bored and disinterested as they rifled through their set, no doubt wondering what they’re doing in Omaha and where they’re going to eat afterward.
It was like watching a super-tight tribute band, with Leavins playing the Morrissey/Bryan Ferry role without any edge or appeal, though I admit the guy is a serious crooner. He could do a killer Elvis or Roy Orbison impersonation. And as if reading my mind, for their encore the band played a knockout cover of “In Dreams” that would have made Dean Stockwell proud.
You could not draw a bigger contrast to Brigitte’s performance than Saturday night’s killer set by Fontaines D.C. at The Slowdown.
It was the first time I felt like I was at a rock concert since my Civic Auditorium days. Though from Dublin City, they reminded me of ‘90s Madchester acts if only for their looks – frontman Grian Chatten bouncied like Bez in his white sunglasses and black oversized long-sleeved T while the rest of the band looked Euro cool standing back in their own shades.
Fontaines D.C.’s Grian Chatten at Slowdown, Oct. 5. 2024.
Unlike Brigitte’s Leavins, Chatten was the ultimate rock showman, leaning out to the crowd with arms outstretched atop a monitor or dancing a jig with a tambourine in hand. He was magnetic, egging on fans throughout a set that showcased mostly songs off Fontaines’ latest and greatest, Romance (2024, XL) along with a few from 2022’s Skinty Fia.
The band’s albums are some of the best indie rock recordings of the current era, but the songs took on an entirely new life on stage – they were harder, more dynamic, more interesting. Like any band, Fontaines sound owes much to their influences. A fellow musicologist in the audience texted me during the set: “The Fall does London Calling.” A couple songs later I counter-texted: “The Fall does Disintegration” (as the band tore into “Bug”) and moments after that: “The Fall does Trompe le Monde” (as the band ripped into “Here’s The Thing”).
Despite those comparisons, Fontaines have carved out their own timeless sound that places them on the mantle as this generation’s most important Irish rock band.
I thought how lucky we were to see them playing live, in their prime, performing vital new music that will be just as vital 30 years from now when they’re doing their inevitable reunion tour. When that happens, the 20-somethings who made up most of Saturday night’s audience will be the age I am now, and I will be in my 80s, and we’ll both say, “I remember seeing them play Slowdown when Romance came out in ’24. That was one of the best concerts I ever saw.”
B.B. Sledge at Porchfest, Oct. 6, 2024.
Finally, in contrast to the hullabaloo of those two rock shows, Sunday was Porchfest, the 8th annual event where local performers play for small gatherings literally from porches throughout the Gifford Park neighborhood. Porchfest has become a real festival, adding two formal stages to the porch stages, a marketplace and multiple food trucks and vendors.
From the Yates Illuminates stage I caught a set by B.B. Sledge – a band I’ve been trying to see for a couple years. My tenaciousness was rewarded Sunday afternoon as I and around 50 neighbors enjoyed their unique brand of indie folk rock. We also wandered over to the nearby “open mic” porch and caught a few songs by someone who never identified himself but kind of reminded me of an acoustic Graham Parker. What will Porchfest become for Year 9?
Open Mic Stage at Porchfest 2024.
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The rock keeps on rolling tonight at The Waiting Room when Kalamazoo emo trio Saturdays at Your Place headlines. Harrison Gordon and TRSH open at 7 p.m. $22.
A crowd of around 100 mostly young women (teens to early 20s) huddled around the edge of Slowdown’s stage last night and sang along to most of Odie Leigh’s songs. It’s easy to understand why – her lyrics are easy to remember, to memorize while listening driving in your car or sitting in your bedroom or wherever else you’re alone. The words are smart and clever and personal, sometimes sexy, more often filled with melancholy and longing – just the right combination for an audience that’s either going through whatever Leigh was singing about, or remembers what it was like.
Leigh’s music, especially the quiet acoustic songs from her early days (just a few years ago), are semi-healed wounds of memories of past loves, recollections of things that happened (or didn’t happen), and the pain of moving on to whatever comes next.
She opened the evening with upbeat folk rockers from her new album (“My Name on a T-Shirt,” “No Doubt”) that did a good job of showcasing her band. Then Leigh set down her electric guitar and picked up her acoustic for a rendition of waltz-timed “A Month or Two” — one of her early singles about trying to forget something or someone, which ends with the reframe “Give it some time, time, time, time, time, time.”
It perfectly segued into a trio of heart-stoppers – two old ones about heartbreak and betrayal (“Nine Lives,” “Double Shift”), balanced by a new one about longing – “Either Way.” Some songs on her new album, Carrier Pigeon, feel like heartfelt antidotes to the past, testimonies (to the ones that got away) that things are better now, or will be, probably.
Leigh’s songwriting recalls some of my favorite confessional songwriters from the ‘90s — Jonatha Brooke of The Story, Ray and Saliers, Shawn Colvin, Victoria Williams — who themselves were like the progeny of Joni Mitchell. Leigh carries on that tradition.
Realizing she had an eager choir in front of her, Leigh not only encouraged singing along, but also provided directions. Before launching into a song that she’s yet to record, she gave the audience a primer on its chorus. She did this again for the night’s encore, “Take Back,” which resulted in the entire room loudly singing the reframe – an apt ending to great evening.
Valley James at Slowdown, Oct. 1, 2024.
I only caught the last three songs by opener Valley James, and wish I would have caught her whole set. Playing solo with an acoustic guitar, James had one of the purest voices I’ve heard on Slowdown’s stage, sounding like (as one fellow audience member told me) a young Neko Case. You’ll be seeing and hearing more from her…
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