Rarely is there anything going on music-wise over the Labor Day weekend in New York City. The usual Lower East Side venues were no exception this year, but after checking a local gig website, I discovered a show at Union Pool, a venue located in the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn. With an afternoon to kill, we took the L train over the East River and found a very different landscape than the towering canyons that had surrounded us the past few days.
Located across from an elevated freeway overpass, Union Pool sits on the corner down the street from a series of low-rise buildings with old-school retail businesses like barber shops, natural food stores and the ubiquitous pot shops that have popped up throughout NYC (and especially Manhattan). Just like how barber shops all have punny names (A Cut Above, Head Office, Heirloom, etc.) these pot dispensaries are destined to be plagued with a similar nomenclature (Magic Puff, Higher Empire, Day Dream, etc.).
Pot is legal in NYC and the smell of ditch weed is everywhere, much more prominent than cigarette smoke ever seemed to be. People light up walking down the street, in parks, anywhere outdoors and certainly at Union Pool — a former pool supply store (no actual pool or pool tables). The interior had a nice bar and a closed-off (this day) stage area, while their patio reminded me of O’Leaver’s — about the same size but with a permanent taco truck parked on blocks inside its fence. We hung out and drank beers across from the pseudo outdoor stage where band gear sat untouched for the next hour while DJ Rottweiler did his set.
I generally don’t pay much attention to DJ sets but was unable to ignore this one as it consisted of punk and post-punk songs I’ve never heard before by a variety of acts both American and European — all pretty awesome. I Shazam-ed most of the set, though for every two songs Shazam found one remained elusive. Among the ones it could identify:
– The Scabs, Leave Me Alone
– Fuzzbox, Love is a Slug
– Glueams, 365
– M.A.Z.E., Spread the Germicide
– U Skripcu, Nove Godine
– The Bombettes, Amsterdam
– Joachim Witt, Goldener Reiter
– Chin-Chin, Stop! You’re Crying
– Alkalino, Hungry Eyes
– Ian Dury, Wake Up and Make Love With Me
– Tee Vee Repairman, Bad Taste
– Via Talas, Sama
– Kollaa Kestaa, Kirjoituksia Kellarista
– Jawoll, Rendezvous
– Novecento, The Only One
Whether its O’Leaver’s or Union Pool, hipsters are pretty much the same, although while all the dudes wore the usual band-T-shirt-and-jeans combo, a number of women were dressed as if they stepped right out of CBGB’s circa 1977. Very hip indeed. As the afternoon wore on and the place got crowded, the scene became more varied and there was even a few folks older then us eating tacos by the outdoor bar. If I lived in Williamsburg, Union Pool would definitely be a regular haunt.
Success performing in the patio at Union Pool, Sept. 3, 2023.
We stuck around to catch the the first five or six songs from opening act, Success. I was expecting them to sound like their debut EP, First Edition, from 2021, but instead they played a straight-up hardcore set, which is always fun for about 10 minutes.
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Anyways, we’re back. And the music just keeps on coming…
Tonight at Reverb Lounge, LA act Diners, a.k.a. Blue Broderick, headlines. She’s on the road in support of her 10-song LP Domino, released last month via BarNone Records. The album was recorded by power-pop producer Mo Troper and it indeed sports that classic ’70s style. Also on the bill is Compressed and our very own BB Sledge. $15, 8 p.m.
Also tonight, Winnipeg noise rock trio Tunic headlines at The Slowdown. They call their sound “atonal punk. feedback laden filth.” To me they sound like a proggy version of Protomartyr with lots of yelling, weird chords and time changes. Joining them tonight is The Radical Sabbatical and our very own Healer. $15, 8 p.m.
Last night’s Cannons show was officially the weirdest crowd I’ve seen at The Slowdown. They fit no specific demographic or style – a strange combination of parents you’d see at a Little League baseball game combined with late-30s club people in resortwear or sequined pants. Alongside them, folks dressed like accountants and teachers. Here walked a young woman with what looked like a fashion-forward walking cane, passing a blond in a gold lamé crop top standing next to five guys dressed in identical black T-shirts loudly talking about bad TV shows. Lots of “Untucked” dressed shirts and slightly overstyled women who thought they were in for a night of dancing that would never happen on that overcrowded dance floor.
New Constellations at The Slowdown, Aug. 29, 2023.
New Constellations frontwoman Harlee Case was commanding the audience when I arrived, at times sounding like a cross between Kim Carnes and Angel Olson fronting an indie pop band that was much less “dance-y” than what’s heard on their latest single.
This was also one of the most crowded Slowdown main room shows in recent memory — even my secret spot near the fire doors at stage left was taken by couples with arms draped over each other. One couple feverishly made out standing in front of the stairs.
I pushed through the crowd to get a spot on the floor between sets and was immediately asked to move by a skinny young guy with a shadow mustache dressed as if for his Confirmation. “I’m saving this spot for Beyonce,” he said, making a hoop with his arms in front of him.
Beyonce? She’s here tonight?
“No,” he yelled over the music. “Fiancé. My fiancé.” I nodded, held up my hand in a peace gesture and pushed my way back up to the top aisle and through the crowd to the back by the pool tables where a steady stream of club goers walked in an out to the patio. The between-set music was a combination of Avril Lavigne, Steve Monite and late-’90s Cher. When Tina Turner got her turn, the crowd rose with the chorus — “What’s Love Got to Do With it?”
I realized pretty quickly this wasn’t going to be my scene. Early in the evening, someone I knew spotted me standing in the back and asked what I was doing there. “This is the last show I expected to see you at.”
I shot him a look. “Don’t be absurd. I like modern dance music as much as the next guy.” Which was true. I do like well-produced dance music from artists like Tei Shi, Your Smith, Charli XCX and La Roux, which Cannons music sort of reminds me of — well-made, catchy. And here was Cannons tonight – a live, 4-piece band playing dance music – bass, drums, guitar/synth and vocals that sounded almost too good to be true.
I walked up to the back end of the crowd that had pushed its way to the bar – the closest I’d get to the stage for the rest of the night. Every song sounded like an ‘80s dance anthem. A few girls in the crowd sang along while wiggling their arms over their head as the band played their hit, “Bad Dream.”
The sound mix was too bright for this style of music, which actually sounded better with earplugs. Front woman Michelle Joy announced this was their Heartbeat Highway tour, their upcoming fourth album, which has yet to be released. Among the new songs unveiled last night, “Can You Feel My Heart?,” which was straight out of an ‘80s homecoming dance but with a groovy Delfonics-style twist to the chorus. All of which might explain the older audience, although I have no idea where they could have heard this band before, other than on Netflix – but how many bands have you discovered from Netflix?
In typical Omaha fashion, this mish-mash crowd of Soviet-era disco dancers, Jersey Shore extras and elderly hipsters stood motionless throughout the set, staring at Joy as she gyrated across the stage one hand in the air, the other holding her microphone, while the band stood rock solid in the background. I thought how great this music would sound in a darkly lit club filled with folks grooving to the beat, but how it lost something in an overcrowded venue filled with people who were either too crowded or too afraid to move.
My evening at Bad Bad Men’s album release show at Reverb Lounge Friday night was successful in all but actually seeing Bad Bad Men perform. It’s starting to become one of those things — at least for 4-band bills — where I’m either going to go early and catch the openers or arrive late and catch the headliners. Having seen Bad Bad Men perform many times and as recently as a few months ago, I opted for the former vs. the latter, as I haven’t seen Wagon Blasters play in awhile. So apologies to John Wolf and his crew, who no doubt killed it, based on the chatter I’ve seen online. Pick up your copy of their new albu, Messed Up, online right here.
As for Wagon Blasters, Gary Dean Davis and company continue to perform with the same energy as any GDD project dating back to Frontier Trust. Gary is a timeless, non-aging entity, which I guess makes him a god (a rock god?). He bounced high on the tiny Reverb stage, belting out classic Wagon Blasters songs, sometimes with cowbell, others times with mouth harp, always with a big voice and the best stage persona of anyone ‘round these parts.
While Wagon Blasters have an amazing rhythm section, the band’s secret sauce is Mr. Will Thornton on guitar – no one plays quite like him and no band has ever matched the twang-meets-punk sound that defines “Tractor Punk.” It’s the combo of Thornton’s ringing style and Gary’s auctioneer bark that drives this massive Case harvester through fields of rolling rock (OK, that is sort of a beer reference). The only quibble about Friday’s performance is that Reverb’s stage may be too small for Gary’s bounding leaps, which one time landed him smack dab into the bass-drum mic set-up (Crunch!).
Those Far Out Arrows at Reverb Lounge, Aug. 25. 2023.
Those Far Out Arrows continue to evolve their garage psych-rock sound, kicking back on grooves that could go on forever (if I had my way). Fronted by the Keelan-White brothers of Ben and Evan on guitar and vocals, the band is one of my favorites for getting lost in their chugging rhythms and hypnotic ax work. Their last release was 2020’s Fill Yer Cup, which means they’re due for a new release. Come on, boys, let get it going!
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Last week Saddle Creek Records released a remix of Neva Dinova’s “Something’s Out There” — the band’s first new music in a decade — by The Faint’s Todd Fink. It’s a trip. Check it out:
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Tonight you’ve got a rare Monday night five-band show at a place called Razor Wire Productions, located at 1808 Vinton Street. Headlined by Las Cruxes, the line-up includes Sacramento band Santohs, Peach Paw, Good View and Grief Police. Ben Eisenberger kicks things off at 7 p.m. It’s BYOB and it’s $5 (suggested donation).
If you thought this year’s Maha Festival was miserably hot, it didn’t hold a candle to Petfest last Saturday. With the heat index rising somewhere to around 105 degrees, the annual festival held behind Benson’s Petshop Gallery felt like a survival contest. No doubt the extreme temperatures put a damper on the BFF fundraiser’s attendance numbers, which, when I was there from 4 to 7 p.m., looked to only be around 100 sweaty, stoic bodies.
Like last year, the festival performances switched between two stages – one inside the garage of Petshop, the other across the rock parking lot. Festival organizers hung colorful parachutes in an vain effort to provide something resembling shade. Goddamn, it was hot.
Thirst Things FIrst try not to implode from the heat at Petfest 2023, Aug. 19.
Despite the extremes, Lincoln band Thirst Things First kept with their tradition and wore matching black track suits — stifling. A red faced Mike Elfers ripped into their set backed by this always entertaining band that is sort of a cross between Devo and The Faint but with a better sense of humor. Just like last year, their synth and guitar-heavy sound wowed the crowd. What will it take to get these folks to play a show in one of Omaha’s countless venues? The answer is $$$… or oil.
Little Brazil perform under the parachutes on the “outside stage” at Petfest 2023.
Next up across the gravel-pit lot was Little Brazil. No matter the conditions, these guys bring the rock. They took the opportunity to roll out a couple new songs, which they say will be recorded and released on a 7-inch single early next year. On one of them, Landon Hedges played a unique dissonant chord progression countered by Shawn Cox’s funky middle-Eastern-sounding riff.
Cat Piss plays a scorching set in the Petshop garage stage.
Omaha post-punk power trio Cat Piss followed inside the Petshop garage and even got a few sweaty kids slamming in front of the garage door.
While there was plenty of booze to choose from, Petfest didn’t offer food options – in fact no food trucks or food vendors that I could find. Maybe Dundee Day or the Riverfront grand opening hogged them all (or they were just following Maha’s example). That forced folks to leave the festival to eat, and likely provided a cooling respite from the heat and humidity in one of the nearby restaurants. I also needed a break, leaving after Cat Piss’ set to go home and change out of my sopping wet clothes.
Head of Femur rips through another hot song on the Petfest “outdoor” stage.
But I was back an hour later to catch the full set from Head of Femur on the “outdoor stage.” The band has been around since 2001, fronted by guitarist vocalist Matt Focht, they’ve released albums on a number of indie labels including Spin Art and Grey Day Records and are critical darlings thanks to their intense, intricate yet catchy take on prog rock.
Focht and company rolled out a number of new songs that were more melodic and less proggy than their usual fare. To my ear they sounded more traditional — and groovier — and a natural for a festival like Outlandia next year. Here’s hoping this new material is a precursor to a new album.
I split after Femur, though I could hear the festival echoing off the streets of Benson from my house a mile away. It’s a shame that the heat got in the way, but a good time was had by the hearty few who endured the inferno.
The Petfest compound looking North. Yes, i was as hot as it looks…
If Phoebe Bridgers is truly the “saddest factory,” then Soccer Mommy is the queen of mid-tempo bummers. Playing to a crowded but far from sold out Waiting Room last night, Soccer Mommy a.k.a. singer/songwriter Sophie Allison and her band, pulled out one mid-tempo bummer after another, and it was sadly, sweetly satisfying.
Allison’s band was first rate – two guitarists (one pulling double-duty on keyboards) and a killer rhythm section, they were at their best when everything shimmered in a shoe-gaze haze. At the center of it all was Allison’s sweet, clear, hang-dog vocals that made every song sound like the morning after. She even turned Sheryl Crow’s feel-good summer pop-song “Soak Up the Sun,” into her very own bummer anthem.
The set list pulled heavily from her latest album, Sometimes, Forever, but included plenty from her catalog, from “Circle the Drain” to the stark “Darkness Forever,” where the band was given room to stretch out. Toward the back half of the set, Allison dispatched the band for a solo rendition of early chestnut, “Still Clean,” that placed a spotlight squarely on that sweet voice, that yes, was reminiscent of Sheryl Crow, though much more forlorn.
The night’s best moments came during the two-song encore, where the band ripped into her biggest hit, “Your Dog,” that finally got the crowd moving. It was followed by rocker “Don’t Ask Me,” which cast shades of early Bettie Serveert — pure ‘90s indie rock. Leaving the hits for the encore is probably the oldest trick in the rock ‘n’ roll handbook, but I couldn’t help but wonder how different the evening would have gone if they started their set with these two rippers.
Pool Kids at The Waiting Room, Aug. 8, 2023.
Opening band Pool Kids was the first female-fronted emo band I’ve seen in a long time (and by “emo,” I mean the more recent Fall Out Boy/Thursday/”emo night” version). Fronted by vocalist Christine Goodwyne, the band leaned more into alt-rock than indie, thanks to her high-flying rock delivery. Say what you will, but the crowd looked like they were having a lot more fun during Pool Kids’ set…
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Austin’s Temple of Angels just released their debut full-length, Endless Pursuit, last month on Run for Cover Records (Runnner, Young Guv). The record is a collection of chiming, dreamy rock songs that sound like a cross between The Church, trippy Cure and The Sundays, with a nod to The Chameleons, who they reference on their one-sheet.
The band plays tonight at Reverb Lounge with one of my favorite locally connected acts, Nathan Ma Band. Unfortunately, there are two more bands on tonight’s bill — The Dirts and Western Haikus — which makes this a four-band bill on a school night – come on, guys. Starts at 8 p.m., $17. Worth it if you don’t have a job to go into the next morning.
Was the last Maha Festival to be held at Stinson Park in Aksarben Village the best one ever? No, but last weekend’s festival definitely was in the top-3, and as far as operations goes, went off with only a couple hiccups…
Look, you can’t do anything about the weather, right? Friday’s blistering heat and wilting humidity was only topped by the rainstorm that divided the evening’s festivities. Actually, the rain wasn’t the problem; it was the massively long line to get back onto the festival grounds that was a major bummer. The 4-person-wide line stretched for blocks, from the park entrance to the Residence Inn and then around the corner. But whaddaya gonna do? Security is security, I suppose. And though it seemed like it would never end, it only took about a half-hour to get back inside after the gates reopened, but by then Icky Blossoms already had begun their set. But I’m getting ahead of myself….
BIB on Day of of the 2023 Maha Festival.
I was pleasantly surprised at the crowd size when BIB took the stage at 4:30 – despite a heat index well past 100. The humidity was brutal and yet there was at least a couple hundred people gathered around the second stage – one of the larger audiences I’ve seen for a Maha-opening band.
And BIB delivered. The Omaha-based hardcore act played a honed set of bonebreak punk that even had a couple dudes aimlessly trying to start a pit by the stage. This was the first time I’ve seen them live, and they were intense despite the small crowd and crazy heat. One photographer asked why they weren’t playing later in the day.
I’ve said this all before — it’s nice to include local bands in the festival, but I’m not sure how much they’re being helped exposurewise when playing to a mostly empty field. I’ve been told by organizers in the past that my solution of having one of the touring acts open the festival to draw a large initial crowd is impracticable for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that no touring band would voluntarily take the time slot. That said, I promise you if Guided by Voices opened the festival you’d have a big-ass crowd on hand – a crowd that would hang around the rest of the day Just sayin’…
Anyway…
HAKIM plays as the storm begins to form in the background.
BIB was followed by another local act, rapper HAKIM, which I learned is always ALL UPPERCASE. If you want to find HAKIM on Spotify, use that caps lock key. This was another introduction to the band and their impressive sound, production and flow. Very groovy stuff that deserves more research.
Throughout HAKIM’s set, the edge of the frontal boundary crept closer, eventually blocking out the sun and cooling things down. Just over HAKIM’s shoulder majestic thunderheads loomed like a scene from Oppenheimer. The end was nigh.
Sure enough, just as Icky Blossoms finished their soundcheck the festival was “officially closed” temporarily because of the imminent storm. We were told to shelter in nearby parking garages until the coast was clear. I high-tailed it to a well-air-conditioned Pauli’s and watched the wind and rain sweep through. As quickly as it started, the storm was over. Figured I could just walk right back in where I went out, but no – I was directed to the main gaits where the aforementioned line of humanity was in the streets.
The line to reenter the festival after the storm passed went on for blocks.
In addition to security screening, everyone had to rescan their tickets – sure hope everyone held on to their stubs. As the line inched closer to the gates the rumble of Icky Blossoms echoed off the buildings. For many including myself, seeing the band’s reunion was a festival highlight not to be missed. But missing it we were.
Icky Blossoms takes the Maha Union Pacific stage.
In the end, I only missed about half their set. By the time I was back to the stage, the Ickies were just finishing “Babes” and about to crank into “Sex to the Devil,” and they were killing it. The triumvirate of Derek Pressnall, Nik Fackler and Sarah Bohling was joined by Sara Bertuldo on bass. The band never sounded harder, faster or louder, and was absolutely on point. “Why aren’t they together anymore?” asked a dude to my right. Because life has a way of going on, I said. No doubt if they wanted to, they could make a go of it again.
They ended their triumphant set with their traditionally set-closer, 2011’s “Perfect Vision.” It was like a rainbow after a storm.
Ekkstacy on the second stage at Maha 2023.
The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. Ekkstacy played next on the small stage. The band is somewhat known for their single, “I Walk This Earth All By Myself,” a synth-driven quick-beat thumper that sounds like something right out of ’80s college radio. Live, however, the band was all guitars and reminded me Standing On the Beach-era Cure — riveting, chiming tones and straight-on drums capped by Ekkstacy’s crisp vocals. Something tells me we’ll be talking about this set in years to come…
Alvvays at Maha 2023.
That was it for the small stage. Alvvays took the big stage next and played a flawless set, if not somewhat uneventful. There wasn’t much to see. I did notice was how many great songs Alvvays have in their song book, one after another, I caught myself saying, “Shit, I forgot they play that one, too.” Frontwoman Molly Rankin has a pure, flawless voice; it was like listening to a recording.
Maha had announced after the storm that all the bands would still play full sets despite losing an hour of festival time. That meant Turnstile wasn’t going to go on until well past 10 p.m. An incredibly long stage switch out pushed that start time past 10:30, and by then the crowd had ballooned in size. I don’t know the attendance numbers yet, but Friday night’s crowds seemed larger than Saturday night’s.
Turnstile closes out Day 1 of Maha 2023.
Turnstile finally hit the stage with the same energy captured in their YouTube performances. Their music — an intense, riff-driven rock that borders on ‘90s Nu-Metal crossed with modern emo (but with better vocals and better melodies) — forces listeners to bounce, and so they did.
And while the sound throughout the entire day earned an A+, Turnstile’s set was hampered by technical problems, including something wrong with the lead guitar, which kept cutting out. Frontman Branden Yates, whose vocals are booming on their recordings, oftentimes was lost in the mix. Despite this, the band sounded somewhat awesome… for the five songs I saw them perform before heading to the gates.
Ebba Rose kicked of the second day of the 2023 Maha Music Festival.
Saturday’s line-up was less interesting than Friday’s. I made an effort to be there at 2:30 to see Ebba Rose. About 100 folks were on hand to catch the performance by singer/songwriter Erin Mitchell and her band. She’s surrounded herself with first-class musicians, including a great drummer and lead guitarist. Her music is more pop than indie, more Jewel/Sheryl Crow/Taylor Swift, and nothing like the current female-led indie movement heard on college radio. It’s a matter of musical style, and that doesn’t take away from the fact she’s got a voice clear as a bell and can belt out modern rock as well as anyone on American Idol.
Terry Presume at the 2023 Maha Music Festival.
I left the park after Ebba Rose’s set and didn’t return until after 6 when Terry Presume was on stage finishing his performance of by-the-numbers hip-hop that had the crowd moving. I’m not familiar with his music, but it sounded good, though nothing I hadn’t heard before.
It was just before The Beths took the small stage that I noticed how small the crowd seemed — smaller than the crowd Friday night at the same time. But halfway through The Beths’ set, the crowd seemed to double in size.
The Beths closed out the small stage on Day 2 of the Maha Music Festival.
Of all the bands that played Maha, I heard more compliments about The Beths than any other. Folks just loved their songs. Very much like Alvvays, they’re first and foremost masters of infectious indie pop songs driven by great hooks and great vocal lines. Indie rock candy.
That was the first time (other than a headliner) where a band came back and played an encore.
Peach Pit at Day 2 of the Maha Music Festival.
Then on came Peach Pit, a peaceful easy-feeling band that bordered on jam territory. At one point during a song the guitar lines morphed into the harmony guitar solo from The Eagles’ “Hotel California.” Not my thing, but there’s no question a lot of folks were at Maha to see them because after their set it looked like a mini exodus to the gates as lines of folks picked up and left.
That said, the crowd on hand for Big Thief was enormous, and what a lucky crowd it was. While I dig this band— from their early Saddle Creek Records releases right up to their recent double-album — I questioned their status as a festival closer. Well, I was wrong.
Big Thief closed out Day 2 of the Maha Music Festival.
With a stripped down mostly empty stage that held the four members and their instruments, the band came out and crushed their set, opening with a couple new songs that were just gorgeous before tearing into “Certainty,” the single from their last album and one of my favorites.
Frontwoman Adrianne Lenker has a star-quality voice that stands right up there with Tammy and Loretta and Kitty — just a pure voice rich in soul, sounding even better on stage than on her records. The entire band – Buck Meek on guitar and backing vocals, Max Oleartchik on stand-up bass and James Krivchenia on drums, were somewhat amazing.
It was about halfway through “Certainty” that the band stopped so medics could go into the crowd and help someone out, then the band picked up right where they left off. I’m told the same thing happened later in their set as well. While it was warm out, it was nothing like the day (and night) before.
Usually when acts just come out and play — just stand there — it bores me to tears, but there was something about Big Thief and Lenker’s voice that is mesmerizing. So, in the 15 years that I’ve seen Maha, that was one of my favorite headliner sets.
As I made my way back to the parking garage I thought about how much I’m going to miss Stinson Park as the venue for Maha. It’s just so damn… comfortable. Everything about it, from the access to set up, from the staging to the peripheral areas, was going to be difficult to beat when the Maha Festival moves downtown next year for what is bound to be an even bigger concert experience. Let’s hope it doesn’t lose any of its charm.
When you think of First Avenue and 7th St. Entry what immediately comes to mind is the iconic club scenes from Prince’s Purple Rain; this venue was voted among the top 3 in the country (according to their signage). But that’s First Ave you’re thinking of, not 7th St. Entry. 7SE is a tiny shithole of a venue located in the same building as First Avenue, and really that’s its only connection.
That said, the room wasn’t without its charm. After showing your ticket you pass through a thick velvet curtain into a room that is shockingly small, with a small bar tucked into one corner adjacent to a tiny stage. The all-black room feels like it slopes down to the stage, but that may just be an illusion. Capacity couldn’t be more than 100 (wiki says it’s 250, but that cannot be right), though there were at least 150 in there last night.
Knowing the show had sold out, we purposely arrived late to cut down on the amount of time we’d have to suffer in what I assumed (correctly) would be a crush mob of people in a tiny space. In the end, it didn’t matter because the opening act, an NYC trio called Hello Mary, started 45 minutes late — which meant standing in the hot hellhole of a stink zone for a half an hour, shoulder-to-shoulder, listening to a drone pre-set track on the PA. It was ungodly uncomfortable, and I started to consider skipping the gig altogether except for the fact that we were literally surrounded by people who were years (decades) older than us who were gutting through the experience. Here I thought I’d be the oldest person in the room. Whoda thunk that Blondshell would attract such a geriatric audience?
Hello Mary at 7th St. Entry, July 11, 2023.
Well, just before giving up, on came Hello Mary. As shabby as 7SE is as a club, the sound was pristine, driven in part by a talented band of players who really knew their way around their instruments, especially the rhythm section. The bass player, Mikaela Oppenheimer, was particularly awesome, working her hands up and down the fretboard, all the time looking bored out of her skull. Maybe it was because of the songs, which were pure ‘90s indie girl rock (everything from The Spinanes, Squawl to Helium came to mind) powered by That Dog-style vocal harmonies between guitarist Helen Straight and drummer Stella Wave. Despite going on 45 minutes late, the band played an excruciatingly long set, which only got better the longer it went.
After a quick equipment swap out, on came Blondshell, playing as a four-piece with frontwoman Sabrina Teitelbaum standing alone instrument-less, behind the microphone backed by a super-tight band that had me thinking they must be hired studio musicians who’ve come in to handle the tour or who played on the record. You never got a sense that they’re actually her band, though they killed on every note of these hook-filled indie tunes. I wish I could tell you Teitelbaum did as well. Throughout the set, her vocals were a mere facsimile of what’s heard on the album, which is a studio-produced masterwork. Live, the voice is there but it’s nowhere near as powerful.
What Teitelbaum does have is a solid set of songs, which the crowd spent most of the set singing back to her. While most of her album is downcast, she wisely brightened the set with a couple covers, including a tasty take on Le Tigre’s “Deceptacon.” The night’s highlight was a sterling rendition of “Kiss City,” the best performance of the night, though she struggled to pull off the high notes during the song’s intense last chorus. Don’t blame road fatigue; this was only their third night.
Despite a luke-warm performance in a smelly, tiny venue, the trip was worth it if only to say I’ve been to this legendary club next to the one Prince made famous.
Scriptown in the Blackstone District again hosted bands this past Saturday as part of the district’s Second Saturday event wherein performers performed in venues along Farnam Street.
Her Flyaway Manner was already set up and playing to a good-sized crowd at Scriptown when I arrived after 3 p.m. Like last time, the trio was set up in the back corner of the bar near the door that leads to the their back patio, where a small team of personnel was busy stuffing hotdogs and sausages into buns, the smoke from the barbecue wafting through and into the venue – it looked and felt like a Fourth of July picnic, except for the music, of course.
HFM, out of Lincoln, has been around for well over 20 years, powered by frontman/guitarist Brendan McGinn, drummer Boz Hicks and bassist Adam2000. In all that time, their sound hasn’t budged much from its initial brittle, post-punk recipe, and that’s a good thing. The crowd formed a circle around the band as the barkeeps tried to keep everyone’s glasses filled.
Leafblower at Scriptown, July 8, 2023.
They were followed by Omaha band Leafblower, each member of the four-piece adorned with their trademark rubber, old-man-in-a-gray-ponytail mask, which they only wore for the first song (and last). Fronted by guitarist/vocalist Danny Maxwell and bassist/vocalist Craig Fort, with Jahn Clark on second guitar and Tab Tworek on drums, this really was the first time I soaked in what they were after sonically. I’ve seen this band at least a half-dozen times but never paid much attention to what they were doing because I was always derailed by whatever gimmick they were using for their stage show (giant leafblower smoke machines, old-dude mannequins, etc.). Not so Saturday afternoon, as they tore into a set of good old-fashioned heavy metal.
I’m not now, nor have I ever been, a metal fan; on the other hand, I dig Heavy Metal. The difference: HM is slower, has better hooks, better grooves, is just funkier than metal’s “need for speed,” which usually translates (for me, anyway) into insect-noise fronted by the Cookie Monster. Heavy metal music has more nuanced vocals (or at least better yelling) and is just more fun. And this was, indeed, fun.
Like all good heavy metal, the proof is in the riffs, which power everything, and that was certainly the case here. The vocals, unfortunately, were next to non-existant from my vantage point behind the speakers (since there was nowhere else to stand), and the fact that Fort’s mic seemed to only be working half the time. And, goddamn, was it loud. I was happy I had earplugs.
Good times. Scriptown needs to host bands more often. They could corner the market on live indie rock if they wanted to, as no other business in Blackstone seems so inclined to host these kinds of shows.
I’m unsure where Fleet Foxes fits on the spectrum of today’s popular music. They are indie for sure, releasing records on Seattle super-indie label, Sub Pop Records, and their music is anything but radio friendly, or is it?
Standing in the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd at Steelhouse Omaha Sunday night as the band rolled into their fourth song, the mid-tempo pumper “Can I Believe You,” I was reminded if only for a moment of ’70s feel-good FM-favorite Chicago, thanks to the ensemble’s mini-brass section.
A trumpet, trombone and sax player, all of whom did double duty providing harmony vocals or playing assorted other instruments, was part of an 8-person ensemble that was far from crowded on Steelhouse’s enormous stage. The sax player was particularly versatile, swapping out tenor sax with stand-up bass, flute and tambourine.
At other moments, I was reminded of CSNY, Cat Stevens and, yeah, Air Supply. Hey, I love two out of three of those bands. The evening’s high point was a pretty rendition of one of Fleet Foxes’ most familiar songs, “White Winter Hymnal” from their 2008 self-titled debut, sounding like an indie barber shop quartet building layer upon layer of glimmering harmonies.
The performance was a rote set of mostly older music. Fleet Foxes have done just about everything they can with this style of Americana-inflected indie folk and could keep riding the wave to larger and larger audiences I suppose, though I have to believe it’s going to get boring for them after awhile. They’ve already rereleased their debut in a sort of omnibus collection with an early EP and B-sides, and frontman Robin Pecknold released yet another version of these old songs on A Very Lonely Solstice. Where they’re headed next is anyone’s guess…
A few side notes…
– I’m forever astounded by the need of some concertgoers to carry on full-blown yell-conversations during concerts like this one. Fleet Foxes’ music is somewhat delicate, and having three women yell to each other about their day while standing right up by the stage is the height of self-centeredness. And is just plain weird. Look around, folks. People are trying to enjoy a concert that cost them $$$. Take your convo to the prison-yard patio.
– Speaking of which, after fielding complaints from patrons, Steelhouse security is now segregating smokers out in the prison yard patio. Smokeheads were pushed all the way to the far fence by an imposing dude with a walkie talkie. He told me Steelhouse is looking for ways to better utilize the enormous outdoor space. Maybe more tables and chairs; maybe use it for wedding receptions (!).
– One beer and one vodka lemonade. Cost w/tax and tip: $41.48. These are Broadway bar prices, folks, which I guess Steelhouse can get away with in their early days, but if they want to continue to attract large crowds, they’re going to have to offer more reasonably priced drink options or drop their prices (highly unlikely).
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Melissa Etheridge tears it up at Memorial Park June 30, 2023.
Speaking of cheap nights of music, I strolled up to Memorial Park Friday night to catch the last half hour of Melissa Etheridge and was pleasantly surprised at how good it sounded – like a real rock concert. Nice job, audio people (whoever you are); it must be a real challenge to make a large field situated next to a highway sound like a concert hall.
Etheridge was in good voice, no surprise there, as she ended the evening with her “hits” from 30 years ago, though instead of closing out on a grand high note, she drew out a song with a drum solo(?) followed by an extended end-play that just sort of petered out. Kind of weird, especially with a crowd salivating for their fireworks to begin…
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Tonight at The Blind Spot, Bar None recording artist, San Francisco’s Pardoner, who All Music (accurately) describes as “Noisy slacker pop quartet that marries angular heaviness with indie rock catchiness.” On their just released album, Peace Loving People (Bar None), they remind me a lot of early Parquet Courts mashed with early low-fi Pavement.
The Blind Spot is a new all-ages venue in / near downtown Omaha around where The Cog Factory used to be. The organizer asks that you DM Morgan Goldsberry for the address, though the address is clearly stated on the Nebraska DIY Facebook post (click through the post’s images to event “Vintage Clothes and More!!!,” where you’ll find the address).
Hey folks, I realize DIY is all about keeping things on the down-low to control your audience, but you’re a venue now. Just print the freakin’ address on your flyers.
Based on past and future bookings, The Blind Spot will be the home for hardcore and metal shows. Such is life. The fact that they’ve let this indie show sneak in is a positive sign. We need another place for young touring indie bands to perform besides Reverb, which these days is only booking breadcrumbs. Tonight’s show is a four-band bill with Fire Sign, Glow and Western Hairus, and kicks off at 8 p.m. $10.
Violenteer’s old hook used to be their double basses and the trippy, almost Floydian quality of some of the mostly instrumental music. But now with the addition of new vocalist Steve Tulipana, the KC guy you might remember from noise rock bands Season to Risk and Roman Numerals, Violenteer has transformed into something that’s not wholly different but not the same, either.
Those two basses are still there, along with a new drummer who I didn’t recognize, but now Tulipana is at the heart of the matter, a showman vocalist who sings as if he’s standing on the edge of an arena stage instead of in front of about 75 people at Reverb Lounge last Saturday night. Ranging from post-grunge yell vocals to simply spitting out lyrics over Barry and Randy Cotton’s riffs, Tulipana was like a ringmaster emoting to the crowd, switching between a standard microphone and hand-held CB radio microphone that distorted his vocals through the magic of pedals or a synth,
Also controlling some electronic gadgetry, Tulipana and his voice provided another instrument that cuts through the bass sludge at times like a lead guitar, rounding out the heavy metal. On the one song that wasn’t a minor-key stomper, Tulipana sounded like a latter-day Daltrey. Alas, the mix was too rough to make out any of the words, which no doubt would have added another layer to the dark matter. All in all, they’re like a new band playing that old heavy metal punk we all remember from the ‘90s.
Little Brazil at Reverb Lounge, June 24, 2023.
Little Brazil had a tougher night. While the band was on point as per usual, frontman Landon Hedges struggled hearing himself in the monitors, or so it seemed as he continued to signal to the soundboard, resulting in some uncertainty in his usual high-wire act vocal delivery, unlike the stellar vocals heard at that recent Maha announcement gig. Oh, Landon still has it, he just needs to be able to hear himself while he does it.
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