JUNE 2004 Show Reviews

THE (INTERNATIONAL) NOISE CONSPIRACY
THE ROGERS SISTERS
BOSS MARTIANS
April 7, 2004
@ the Bottom Lounge (Chicago)
By Dan Boczarski

    When I first noticed that The (International) Noise Conspiracy was coming back to the U.S., I was ecstatic. Never having seen the band play before, I heard that their live show was a blast, so I had been looking forward to it for a while. The day came, and I arrived at the venue early, noticing a line had already built outside. After doors opened, I got inside to realize that the opening band, Boss Martians, already started playing. Thinking that maybe the show had possibly started earlier than scheduled, I was relieved upon finding out that the band was just finishing up their sound check. I had been excited to see this Seattle-based power-pop quartet, as I’ve heard nothing but great things about them. When the band was finally all set to start, a small crowd had gathered before them, and it grew over time as they kept churning out tunes. Singer/guitarist Evan Foster has a perfect voice for the garage-punky yet danceable sound of the band. They also had a powerful stage presence, even though they only have four members. Boss Martians have been around for quite a while now, but this show made me realize what all the good reviews have been about and definitely turned me into a fan.

   The Rogers Sisters, a post-punk (but also very musically diverse) band from New York, were second. Despite being a three-piece, they still managed to get the audience going. The band alternates vocals between guitarist Jennifer and bassist Miyuki, which sets a nice sonic change from time to time. Miyuki seemingly didn’t have the best of luck that day, as he unfortunately broke a bass string during the beginning of the set. Miyuki kept going minus a string for about three songs, until eventually requesting if any of the bassists from the other bands could loan him their bass. Thankfully, T(I)NC bassist Inge finally came to the rescue and allowed the band to finish off their set.
Anticipation was building for the final act of the night, The (International) Noise Conspiracy. Four band members appeared on stage and broke out into a little ditty, awaiting the appearance of frontman Dennis LyxzÈn. Suddenly, he burst onto the stage in a flash and was welcomed with raging audience approval, allowing the band to jolt out into the crowd favorite, “Smash It Up.” Right off the bat, Dennis warned the audience that they will not take the role of a jukebox, instead opting to surprise them with mostly new songs from their yet-unreleased record ARMED LOVE. Dennis really took control of the stage, interacting with the audience and jumping off of every object, which is a nice change from boring performances by bands that just stand in one spot. Overall, the band’s act was quite amazing, as they brought about an incredible rock show without the rock-star pretense and egoism. Crowd involvement, fantastic songs, Dennis’s dance moves, and an intimate setting made T(I)NC’s long-awaited return to the live circuit well worth seeing, making this one of the better shows I have attended this year.

BEYOND CONCEPTION
HELLOGOODBYE
SOLEA
A STORYBOOK ENDING
CUT SHALLOW
April 8, 2004
@ Chain Reaction (Anaheim, CA)
By Beth VanBoxtel

    Although Orange County lacks prominent all-ages venues, they make up for it in the multitude of younger bands local to the scene. This particular show focused on and showcased a wide range of talent and attracted many fans close to their home.

    To start off the night, Cut Shallow opened strong with breakneck drumming and solid guitar riffs to accompany the divinely-inspired lyrics. The sound of their music could closely be identified with that of Tooth and Nail’s Anberlin. Included in their set, Cut Shallow introduced the song “Wastelands” to the fans. Much of the existing crowd embraced the three-piece rock group, as they mastered creative breakdowns and bridges, as well as smooth transitions throughout their songs. Visit Cut Shallow’s Website at www.cutshallow.com.
The audience gathered closer to the stage in support of A Storybook Ending. As the band took the stage, I recall thinking that the vocalist Danny Casler resembled actor Ben Affleck. Also, the entire band dressed alike, which really gave the band an appealing image. As for the music, most of it was based from metal influences but didn’t step over the boundaries of their punk foundation. The band’s energy on stage was in full force, as each member jumped, kicked, ran in place, and the bassist even let up from playing his instrument to dance. The two guitarists added intricacies that topped off Casler’s powerful, high-pitched vocals. One particular song opened up as a slower, melodic ballad but took a sharp turn into an extr\a heavy, massive storm of sound. The most surprising part of the set came when ASE ripped through Bon Jovi’s “Living on a Prayer,” which included choreographed stage moves. To find out more about ASE, visit www.astorybookending.com.
Solea is a group that has been backed by a Japanese record label to record and tour full-time. As far as domestic interests go, The Militia Group was in attendance to check out the band that night. I was surprised to find out that the band had such an all-star lineup. The drummer is from Sensefield and also played in Elliot Smith’s touring band, and the other members (guitarist, bassist) played in Texas is the Reason and Samiam. Solea took this particular show more seriously than the other bands. The abrupt song intros and overall serious demeanor of the band elicited a less-than-desired response from the bewildered crowd. The younger people in attendance were unreceptive to the melodic pop punk and powerful, edgy mix of sound. I was particularly captivated by the vocalist’s raw voice, which passionately delivered the soulful lyrics. “Soft Santa Fe” was a song driven by rough, country-like vocals, juiced-out guitar effects, lots of purposeful feedback, and drastic build-ups from the drums. The catchy melodies and overall upbeat sound was enough to leave me pretty satisfied by their set. Check out their Website at www.solea.org.

    Before Hellogoodbye began to play, they fulfilled a request by a high-school student and allowed the fellow to ask his friend to prom. The attempt was successful, and this paved the way for a glorious performance. Since recently signing to Drive-Thru Records, HG released a free online self-titled EP that introduced many to the fundamental rock rhythms and upbeat sound. “Shimmy Shimmy Quarter Turn” inspired everyone to dance, and the people singing along rang much louder than the actual music beaming from the speakers. Their entire set revolved around the prevalent keys, fast-paced guitars, and slick beats. This show was the projected last show for their drummer, and he took the opportunity to stop playing mid-song while the other members continued on and jumped into the frenzy of a crowd to eventually be floated back to the stage to continue the song. Download Hellogoodbye’s EP from the Drive-Thru Website at www.drivethrurecords.com/hellogoodbyeep, or just visit the band ’s site at www.hellogoodbye.net.

    As a part of the crowd exited the venue, I was intrigued to pull forward to the stage to witness this next, heavily-promoted band known as Beyond Conception. The quartet delighted in sounds ranging from ruthless guitar-driven rock to keyboard-centered pop. Set apart from the previous bands, this group played and put forth their full effort to please the crowd. Included in their set were the songs “Control” and the more popular “As I Leave,” which generated positive responses from the listeners. Download these songs and more from their Website at www.beyondconception.net.

METRIC
MELLOWDRONE
CALL US AFTER MIDNIGHT
April 16, 2004
@ El Rey (Hollywood, CA)
Text and photos by Mindy Poder

    Despite a few nightmarish thoughts of being denied admission through the guest list, I got in with only a little hassle. When I walked into the El Rey, the floors were free of the beer bottles that would later adorn them, thus allowing people to walk freely around the venue in anticipation of the night ’s entertainment.

    After a short wait, Call Us After Midnight (a band unusually composed of a male singer, two female dancers, and a computer) began the show. By the looks of their oh so ironic, modern clothing and their synchronized robotic dancing, it can be suggested that the members of the band spend their every waking moment at Club Bang listening to Ladytron. Regardless of these shortcomings, I enjoyed their odd set. They seemed quite different from any band I have ever watched (which could probably be explained by my unyielding avoidance of anything electroclash). Nonetheless, the attractive male vocalist was enjoyable to watch, as were the black-haired girls, even during low points of their dancing when one could be seen drunkenly playing the air guitar. Whatever the trio lacked instrumentally was gained with their vigor and enthusiasm for performing.

Call Us After Midnight

    Mellowdrone tore up the stage next. Literally. They started out strong, but after a few songs I found myself getting restless and leaning over my friend’s undeserving shoulder. I was upset with Jonathan Bates trying to act like Thom Yorke. Crazy dancing and creepy facial expressions should be left to the unique Radiohead singer. It is possible that Bates sensed the crowd’s boredom, because he randomly smashed his guitar during a song. This energized many members of the audience, and someone even threw a beer bottle, which landed on the heads of a few unlucky show-goers. Besides that potentially fatal incident, Bates’s guitar smashing received positive responses from the crowd, along with my own personal respect.

    After an excruciating wait, members of Metric came out and showed the audience how to put on a “succexy” (successful and sexy) show. Emily Haines, lead singer and keyboard player, provoked an audience dance party with “I.O.U,” the first track from OLD WORLD UNDERGROUND, WHERE ARE YOU NOW? There is no one out there that performs like Emily. Through a combination of interesting dance moves and facial expressions, one is likely to be intrigued with her and fall in love with her at the same time. During “Combat Baby,” the audience had the privilege of seeing just how high Emily can kick, while other highlights were seen “Dead Disco,” “Succexy,” and “Calculation Theme.” I am going to take the risk of sounding clichÈ and say that Metric songs just make a lot more sense live. Although the songs sound amazing coming from a computer or CD player, there is something about Metric shows that other live performances simply lack. For instance, what other petite female singer in a tattered shirt and short skirt dares to mosh in a crowd? One of the highlights of the night was when Emily said that if people who dance are gaylords, she, must be the “biggest gaylord of them all.” During the final song, she invited the crowd to come up on the elevated El Rey stage and dance with her, fulfilling the dreams of those who have always wanted to be a gaylord with Emily.

UNDEROATH
THE BLED
SINCE BY MAN
BIG COLLAPSE
PARIS TEXAS
FROM FIRST TO LAST
April 19, 2004
@ CBGB (New York)
By Melissa Wong

    Three words for this show at CBGB: fucking awesome surprise. I had no idea that Underoath and The Bled were going to be there. Originally, I was asked to do a show review for Paris Texas, which I thought was the headliner. Ha. Man, was I in for a surprise. I got to CBGB and saw a huge line of kids outfitted in black band Ts, and I knew something was up. I got to the door and these two 13-year-olds wearing Underoath Ts were like, “Dude, you have to get in line.” Ha ha. If I wasn’t writing for SKRATCH, I think I would have still told them, “Shut up, buttfaces. I’m on the guest list, and you’re not.” Ha ha. Anyways, the entire show was loud, and I think I went home deafas well as getting blinded by the lead singer of From First to Last’s ass crack. Talk about girl pants to the extreme. I mean, could he fit any more skin in there? He sings okay, I guess. I can’t say I know what he sounds like, since I couldn’t hear a damn thing he sang. The rest of the band, however, was great. FFTL has a sound similar to...? I saw FFTL in Kansas City, MO, at the Spitfire just over my spring break a couple weeks ago, and this show was slightly better. At the Spitfire show, he tried to seduce one of the likeÖfour girls who were there. The crowd was just standing there, lifeless and blank. This show was no different. He kept saying, “I like you guys. I do.” The whole time I just kept thinking, just “shut the fuck up and sing already.” AHHHH! Shut the hell up. Sorry, guys from FFTL, I just don’t like your singer. Would I still go to another show? Definitely.

   Paris Texas is this explosive, energetic, five-piece powerhouse on New Line Records with a loud and melodic set. They rocked the stage and seemed to have the most fun. The visual that helped? The lead singer with the “Weird Al” Yankovic hair. Lead singer Scott Sherpe flew back and forth on the stage between hops and skips to the drum set, and he jumped on top of the drum set, stomping his feet like a wild monkey desperately yearning for a banana. These guys from Wisconsin rule. To say Sherpe was making love to the mic stand would be an understatement. The band was having fun, and the coolest thing about shows is seeing a band rock out without a single care in the worldother than rocking out, that is. I loved it. This was the kind of music where you want to turn the volume up to the max and go driving really fast. My favorite songs were “Strike My Heart,” “White Eyes,” and “One Hot Coma.” They have an album coming out in June called LIKE YOU LIKE AN ARSONIST, and I suggest you check it out.

   After Paris Texas, I started to get hungry. It was hot. I debated whether I should go get a slice of pizza and then come back or stay for the next band. Let’s just say with the Since by Man CD I left the show with, waiting on the pizza was worth it. “Ya gotta get close to feel it!” screams lead singer Sam Mocan. As cute as he was, he sang like a little gremlin from hell orÖa leprechaun on crack? I don’t know. But if I could imagine either of those two sounds, that’s what Sam sounded likeand it was fucking awesome. It was as if Eighteen Visions and Agnostic Front got married and had a child. SBM got the crowd thrashing all about. Sam kind of reminded me of Phil Anselmo from Pantera, but shorter and with better hair. But why is everyone wearing black? Come on, people. Add some color to the wardrobe, please.

    I ended up skipping the Big Collapse show. I had a headache and decided to go out and get some candy to make myself feel better. I came back about 20 minutes later, and Big Collapse was still playing. The lead singer reminded me of Dave Grohl. But I didn’t bother listening. I didn’t know if it was the ringing in my ears that hurt or the repetitiveness of the music.

    The Bled was crazy as ever. I remember seeing them at the Knitting Factory just earlier in March, and it was awesome. As soon as they came on stage, the crowd was thrashing about; and within less than the first two minutes of the song, this kid with a nosebleed walked by me to get napkins from the bar. Needless to say, The Bled from Tucson, AZ, blew everyone awaylike they always do.

    I’ve seen Underoath numerous times, and to simply say they rule wouldn’t do them justiceso I won’t bother. Plus, I had to leave in the middle of the Underoath set because I had to be at work at 7 a.m. I figured: I have a headache, and I think I really need that pizza.

SPARTA
BRAZIL
MADISON EAST
April 20, 2004
@ Peabody’s (Cleveland, OH)
By Kevin Conway

   The sound check started and the masses slowly crept into the main room. People slowly crept away from the bar and moved toward the stage. Madison East, a six-piece out of Cleveland, started with thrashing guitar riffs and crashing high hats. The schremo and indie sound was apparent from the beginning, while harmonious vocals were interrupted by heart-filled screams. The interlude of guitars and bass rocked to a pinnacle of crashing drums and thunderous bass lines. The crowd became more receptive with every chord and intense vocal harmonization. The screams became more raw, and an arsenal of guitars erupted with every thrash that flowed from one song to the next. The group, finally, took a moment between songs and dedicated “84” to a loss in the family of a local Cleveland band, The Reeds. From this moment, emotion poured out of the instruments, and ominous red and black lights illuminated this intense performance. There was a fury on the stage that continued into “The Prequel to the Beginning of the End.” The shredding bass rips quickly exploded into a fury of slap bass and rage. It was so powerful that only a pounding chest and ringing in the ears were left after the track. Finally, “Midwinter Night’s Dream” concluded the surprisingly eclectic set with harmonious guitars and concise vocals. The pounding bass and drums roared through a momentary interlude that was interrupted by screams and a final instrumental outburst.

   Brazil took stage after a short set change, and the crowd began to push closer to the stage. The drums and vocals echoed through the sea of people, as guitars and keyboard chimed in. Crashing cymbals and pounding double-bass lines paved the way for the intense climax of emotional vocals, thrashing guitars, and eerie keyboard. “The Novembers” commenced with a haunting hum of reverb that tore through the powerful guitar riffs. The mix of sheer rock with an emo twist intrigued the crowd, because each chord was as intricate as it was overwhelming. The emotion swelled as the lead singer took the microphone off the stand and addressed the crowd with intensity. Guitar solos and piano undertones led to an explosive rage of drums and an emotional climax. With no stop, “Eraser” took off with an emotional vocal performance that was met by crunching guitar riffs and pounding double-bass drums. Lightning fast piano seeped through the guitars and melted into the harmonies. Each song became more intricate and emotional as the rock ‘n’ roll poured out of the speakers. Proving that simple is not always the formula, Brazil was a kick in the teeth that drove everyone to move and drift away with the band. Songs from the new release, HOSTAGE AND THE MEANING OF LIFE, exploded with solos and eerie piano combined with the vocal emotion that bled out of the amplifiers and loomed over the crowd. The set finished with an amazing light show and mystifying instruments that culminated an eclectic performance.

   Sparta charged the stage, and the crowd smashed forward, bending the retaining bars. The entire venue was now packed as the band exploded into “Cut Your Ribbon.” The drums and bass lines collided and sent pulsations throughout the waves of people. The emotional screams and harmonies echoed through the air, as constant high hats marked the climax of the first song. Lead guitarist Paul and bass player Matt were thrashing back and forth from the microphone, rocking out and screaming. The ominous guitar effects were looming behind the emotional screams and harmonies. A fight nearly erupted, but lead singer Jim grabbed the microphone and calmed down the rowdy crowd. This did not stop the intensity on the stage but was merely a minor pause before “La Circa” commenced and erupted with rolling bass lines and emotional screams. The swarms of fans were swaying and mouthing every word back at Jim with as much emotion as the band was emitting. At the break, Jim had to calm the crowd once again, as a fight was nearly broke out. However, ominous chords started pouring out of the amplifiers, and the crowd calmed once again and started to bob their heads to the music. Chilling notes and moans drifted through the air long enough to be met by gut-wrenching screams. “Death in the Family” was an anthem of losing one’s mind on tour, and it began with melodic vocal harmonies and rolling bass lines. At the end of the song, the fight finally erupted and Jim stopped once again, as the crowd cheered when the rowdy fan was ejected from the show. After the excitement, Sparta finished the set with “Air,” and the beginning chords were well received. The crowd was screaming every word with as much intensity as Sparta, and the emotion concluded with clapping hands and sheer elation. The band departed from the stage, and the crowd was still screaming and panting from the intense performance.

BLEEDING THROUGH
DEATH BY STEREO
HIMSA
LOFTUS
April 23, 2004
@ the Glass House (Pomona, CA)
By Darren Davis

    The sold-out show at the Glass House in Pomona, CA, was kicked off by a local band named Loftus. The five, adolescent-looking white kids took the stage in front of a packed house full of anxious onlookers. I was hoping they weren’t another cookie-cutter Southern California metalcore band, for that was the first impression I got. But as soon as the quintet began their set, any doubt that had been lingering in my mind ran for cover, as I was truly taken aback. Loftus was abnormally heavyor at least more so than I had expected. I hadn’t heard breakdowns like theirs in a long time, and it was refreshing. Loftus spewed out a sound stuck somewhere in between metal and grind, finding solitude in the vein of Converge or Swarm of the Lotus. Their vocalist stumbled around on stage, letting out unorthodox screams and whiny talking parts. He would occasionally strut, unbutton his shirt, and stick the mic into his mouth. I was reminded of a coked-up David Lee Roth prancing around on stage shamelessly oozing some sort of white-trash sexuality. It was entertaining, to say the least.

   Next up was Himsa. The evil-looking quintet began their set with a bang, as the crowd unanimously erupted into a sea of metal signs and wailing fingers. Vocalist Johnny Petitbone took the stage looking like a character out of a Tim Burton movie. Jet black hair covered his face as he, with a one foot on the monitor, began belting out vocals to the packed house. The crowd was surprisingly enthusiastic, singing along to every word and bursting in cheers whenever Petitbone spoke in between songs. Himsa’s set was long, and they kept the energy flowing throughout. They played fan favorites like “Kiss or Kill” and eventually ended their stint with “When Midnight Breaks,” which tied it all into an evil little bow. I had not seen Himsa live before, and I was very impressed by the effect they had on their fans. I hope to see them again soon on their Mutilation Tour.

   I was very excited to witness the whirlwind of madness and enthusiasm that is Death by Stereo. The last time I had seen them live was years ago, and I have been a fan ever since. The second Death by Stereo began to play, I was reminded of all the reasons I loved this band. Never had I seen a group of guys put more energy into a show than Death by Stereo. And I had definitely never seen a vocalist show more love and compassion for his fans then Efrem Shulz. The stage was packed, complete with some guy playing along to the songs with a cardboard guitar and two televisions boasting the Death by Stereo skull and lightning bolt insignia. What I loved about DBS is that they went a mile a minute, spilling out as many of their short, fast, energetic songs as they could into a 45-minute set, while still finding time to let the crowd know how much they loved them. Death by Stereo seemed to play every song they had, including my personal favorites “Looking Out for #1” and “Desperation Train.” Seemingly to the complete surprise of the band, eventually the televisions, began to display certain adult entertainment. Death by Stereo then played their last song, came back for an encore, then dispersed, leaving the crowd dazed, punch-drunk, and filled with love.

   As the mob waited for Bleeding Through to begin their set, I was pinned in between the stage and a group of annoyingly enthusiastic girls. But as soon as the vocal track of Willem Dafoe from THE BOONDOCK SAINTS filled the speakers and the all too familiar face of vocalist Brandan Schieppati took the stage, all hell broke loose. The crowd pushed forward as I felt my insides slowly being crushedbut no matter: Bleeding Through was playing “Love Lost in a Hail of Gun Fire,” and all was well in the world. I had seen Orange County’s fastest-rising metalcore band many times before, but it was always a new experience. The first two songs lacked any guitar and was held simply by drums and vocals, as the sound guys stumbled over each other trying to fix the problem, but once Bleeding Through finished up their second song, “Sweet Vampirous,” everything was back to normal. Schieppati, who couldn’t possibly be any taller than 56 paced back in forth on stage, did mini somersaults, and flung himself into the crowd as he led the crazed mob into songs like “Number Seven with a Bullet,” “Revenge I Seek,” and older tracks like “Rise,” “Our Enemies,” and “Wake of Orion.” They eventually finished their set with new fan favorite “On Wings of Lead” and came back for an encore to play “Insomniac,” which resulted in a huge pile-up, as Shieppati led the fans into the anthem: “This time I swear / There’s hope for tomorrow / You turned your eyes from me / And now I’m stronger without you.” Bleeding Through played a climactic set, ending the nightwhich had featured three equally impressive and energetic bandswith a sort of satisfaction. I was, once again, thoroughly impressed.

SOLEA
THE FAKERS
CIRCLE & SQUARE
April 24, 2004 @ North Star Bar (Philadelphia)
By Matthew Siblo

   No matter how you slice it, rock ‘n’ roll has always been a tough sell during the afternoon hours. The matinee show has long been debated as both a blessing and a curse, with most opinions fitting somewhere in-between the two. For my money, however, nothing could be finer on a breezy spring afternoon than heading into the city that loves you back for the triumphant return of the most humble of supergroups, California’s Solea. While the word “supergroup” might be a bit of an exaggeration, Solea is made up of ex-members of the now legendary Texas Is the Reason and Samiam, making them seemingly poised for an almost certain greatness.

   Starting the afternoon’s festivities was a young band by the name of Circle & Square. While their sound was extremely reminiscent of a number of bands that members of Solea were formally involved in (i.e., Knapsack and Samiam), their lead guitarist was a force to be reckoned with. His leads were outstanding, and he definitely helped his band stand out in a genre that seems to be infinitely flooded with monotony. His soloing was reminiscent of SIAMESE DREAM-era Smashing Pumpkinssomewhat uncharacteristic for the genre to which they played, but extremely effective nevertheless. While the band’s overall performance did come across a tad juvenile, I think that with some time and practice Circle & Square will be a band to look out for.
It didn’t take me long to quickly become infatuated with The Fakers. This New York City three-piece wowed me right off the bat with their infectious, earnest sound. The band’s performance left me to make such praise worthy comparisons to the forgotten glory of bands such as Screeching Weasel and Plow United (among others). It’s been quite a while since I’ve been fortunate enough to stand witness to a band who played straight up pop-punka genre I have long since written off due to the sorry excuse of its current incarnation. The Fakers played a blistering 40-minute set that kept me interested the entire way through. While information on the band is scant, at best, you can hear a couple of demos at www.thefakers.net and check them out for yourself.
After a slew of EPs and 7-inches, Solea remains one of the best unsigned bands playing today. As they continue to struggle to find a U.S. distributor for their self-titled full-length, the band plays with an intensity and poise that reflects their status as seasoned vets. Playing heavily from their domestically unreleased full-length (which does include songs from 2003’s EVEN STRANGER EP), Solea made quite the impression on the sparse crowd. Just hearing Garret’s voice live was enough to make me swoon, but the band impressed me with a tight (if all too brief) 10-song set. The highlight, no doubt, came with their blistering rendition of “Frankie Machine,” which has to be one of the best pop-rock songs recorded in the past few years.

    Even with the scant attendance and glaring sun serving as substantial stumbling blocks, Solea and co. succeeded in beating the matinee jinx and wound up leaving me thoroughly satisfied.

SLEATER-KINNEY
THE THERMALS
April 26, 2004
@ Irving Plaza (New York)
By Matthew Siblo

   Some shows are just too good to pass up, regardless of how much effort they might require to get to. When I became privy to the fact that Sub Pop’s finest, The Thermals, would be joining a short East Coast tour with the female monsters of rock that are Sleater-Kinney, I knew that I’d have to witness such an event. Due to circumstances beyond my control, I became aware that I wouldn’t be able to attend the Philadelphia show. My determination, being as fierce as it is, would not let me admit defeat, however. A roadtrip was planned, and I was off to the isle of Manhattan for what I hoped could be the double-bill of the spring season.

   For inexplicable reasons, my cohort for the show and I decided that it would be easiest for us to drive to Trenton, NJ, in order to park, and then proceed to take New Jersey Transit into Manhattan. More on the specifics of Trenton later, but just know that my friend and I were too cheap at the time to spring for the $7 parking lot and instead parked on the street about 11 blocks away.
Once we had arrived at Irving Plaza, The Thermals were just taking the stage. Being a huge fan of both their debut MORE PARTS PER MILLION and their forthcoming FUCKIN A, I was ecstatic to finally catch them. Live, The Thermals put forth a blitzkrieg of a performance, packing around 15 songs into just over 30 minutes. The band’s no-frills stage presence harks back to a Ramones bluntness, but The Thermals presented themselves with both a fierce passion and drive that makes their performance memorable. Drummer Jordan Hudson has perfected the art of Muppet-like drumming precision (i.e., Animal), while both Hutch Harris and Kathy Foster both slammed their three chords down with a raw energy which only furthered the bands seemingly simplistic aesthetic. The Sleater-Kinney crowd may have not known what to do with such a shot in the arm, but about halfway through their set it seemed as if there were more than a few converts in the very mixed bag that had packed themselves into Irving Plaza.

   How many among us have friends who make idiotic, misogynistic statements such as “Girls can’t rock” or “I hate chick bands?” While it’s hard to believe that such comments are made in such a supposedly enlightened time, we’ve all come into contact with such things being said. Well, friends, the next time you hear one of these blockheads yammer on about such nonsense, promptly point them in the direction of a Sleater-Kinney performance. Carrie Brownstein’s confident swagger playfully nods to a youthful Angus Young, while drummer Janet Weiss’s arms could easily take out just about any of those close-minded detractors I mentioned earlier. The bands 17-song set highlighted the band’s entire career, with highlights including “One Beat,” “You’re no Rock n’ Roll Fun,” “End of You,” and my personal favorite, “Get Up.” Much like the band that preceded them, Sleater-Kinney’s in-between banter was sparse, except when humbly thanking the crowd for coming and the now commonplace imploring of the crowd to register to vote. While the audience’s enthusiasm (or more accurately, the lack thereof) made it seem as if they were bordering on comatose at points (sans a brief roar after the opening chords on a couple songs), Sleater-Kinney’s output was nothing but forceful, confident, and sexy the whole way through. While staring out into the mostly female crowd that night, all I could think about was how most guys don’t know what they’re missing.

JADE TREE UNITED TOUR 2004:
CHALLENGER
PAINT IT BLACK
FROM ASHES RISE
STRIKE ANYWHERE
April 29, 2004
@ Grog Shop (Cleveland, OH)
By Erika Owens

   Unity is now a pretty laughable concept in hardcore, but these bands really embody its meaningnot with XXXs or basketball jerseys or tough-guy styling, but with sincerity and conviction. Jade Tree has sent them on the road through till June skipping the Clear Channel, supporting the punkvoter.com, and showing that the scene can still shine (even on an indie behemoth). The stop in Cleveland began at 6 p.m., so the early time and pressure to meet a 10 p.m. curfew ensured that this would be a punk-rock show and not a polished hipster outing.

    Unfortunately, I missed Challenger kicking off the show. They are side project of members of Milemarker with a harder, punk twist. After witnessing Milemarker’s electrifying stage presence, I’m sure that energy + punk + a tiny club would be a potent blend indeed. I did make it time for Paint It Black from Philly (though the ex-members of Lifetime and Kid Dynamite is the subtitle everyone really cares about). The passion and earnestness were still there, but such emotions, when tied with cell phone service talk, is just hollow. In spite of the high-school choral choreography of singer Dan Yemin, the crowd was not responding to the repetitive sonic barrage. He was moshing more on stage than the crowd did during the bulk of the set. A new song about Yemin’s divorce was unveiled that was clearly from the heart, but they still didn’t connect. His reminder that “you’re all beautiful” echoed by the guitarist’s suggestion to “listen to Christinashe’s right on” was the only part that resonated with the audience...with a laugh.

    A few scrawny, cleaned-up crust punks ambled on stage next in the form of From Ashes Rise. One of the guitarists and lead singer was stuck to a chair due to an injury, but that did not constrain his ferocity and interaction with the crowd. From the time FAR began, the crowd was jumping and pushing around, physically releasing the frustration contained in the lyrics about nuclear power, war, and Iraq. New tunes and old had the crowd piling up front to sing along, to which singer Brad Boatright urged the crowd to read the lyrics sheet, since “it’s not just mindless screaming.” The intelligent and timely political message, along with grinding, relentless drum and guitar work, left the crowd informed and energized.

   Strike Anywhere steps in finally. This was their first show in the area since the release of EXIT ENGLISH, but you wouldn’t have known it, as the crowd was singing along to every word of all three releases. The mob at the stage was only three people deep, but the shouting, waving, and circle-pitting enveloped the club. Strike Anywhere songs are anthems. Even if you don’t know the lyrics to begin with, the collective experience will have you singing along by the endand this approach ensures complete captivation. Many songs off of the new LP were featured, including “Extinguish” and the single (!), “Infared,” but it was the songs off CHANGE IS A SOUND and CHORUS OF ONE that got everyone scrambling for the microphone. With out fists in the air, “Notes on Pulling the Sky Down” and “S.S.T.” forced us to react and reconsider. “Sunset on 32nd” closed out the show, with everyone vowing to “defend our yesterdays, defend our tomorrows / Together!”

   After all of the dreaming, deconstructing, and dancing, I was left exhausted but energized. These bands don’t just use the stage to shove sound bites down all of our throats, they mean it; and while singing and shoving, you can’t help to feel it, too. Punkvoter, Planned Parenthood, and ARA were all at the show educating and extending the bands’ messages with the tools to put those ideas into action. It’s not just music, and that’s what makes the sweat and screaming worth it. Be certain to catch this tour, and check out www.jadetree.com for more info.

ILL NINO
40 BELOW SUMMER
DECOYS
THE BLESSED HOPE
April 29, 2004
@ Soma (San Diego, CA)
By Thomas Murray

    The Blessed Hope supplied a sturdy little warm-up. The lanky lead singer possessed a standard but respectable stage presence. He was charismatic but apatheticthe perfect lead-singer attitude. The band sounded a bit like Hatebreed, but on a very death-metal day. There was no moshing, but rather some appreciative head-bobbing and devil hornswhich suited them fine. Towards the end, the lead singer addressed the audience: “This song is for everyone I’ve ever known, everyone in the world.” He went on to explain how the song was about hypocrites. Wait a minute: did he just call everyone a hypocrite? He sort of fixed it by explaining that even he (oh my God, even YOU?) was a hypocrite. Whatever, man. After that slight emotional turbulence, the song wasn’t half bad. As the band prepared for the last song, they led the audience into a clap-up. Everyone clapped in unison, the tempo building with each clap, until the speed was too severe for some to keep up with. They finished strong with “Stand Your Ground.”

    Decoys seemed like three cats just trying to do their thing a little differently than the last guys. The lead singer’s job was to work some basic power chords while screaming out lyrics as if someone were removing his bowels with a salad fork. This kid had some thunder in his gut, throwing himself into each note with a vengeance as if lashing out at everyone that ever told him that his band sucked. The bassist tip-toed across the stage like he was sneaking up on something, and then he’d convulse in seizure-like, spastic movements. During “Placebo,” the floor gave way to a mosh pit, an old-school mosh pit complete with circling and pushing in the back, not that arm-swinging new-school crap that confuses the veterans. That new type of moshing would not be tolerated here, as one husky scenester learned the hard way. While trying to get some of that started, he received a cheap shot in the face from an unhappy, sexually-frustrated Irish kid who stood on the pit border. The band pounded out two more songs which induced some more mosh-pit mayhem and then finished upbut not before performing an audience favorite, “Reenacting the Birth of a Flower.”

   “Better Life” started off 40 Below Summer’s set, followed by solid renditions of “Rope” and “Self Medicate.” Their version of “Sideshow” was just incredible. Singer Max Illidge knew it, too. You could tell when he looked up from his microphone, satisfied and half-smiling. Before “Rain,” a song off THE MOURNING AFTER, the band professed their love and gratitude for Ill Nino. Both bands are from New Jersey, and Jersey guys tend to stick together. During the song, guitarist Joe D’Amico began lowering ropes of spit onto his guitar. Maybe it was to cool the strings, maybe to keep his salivary glands running at optimal level. A few songs earlier, D’Amico had wandered behind Max Illidge and unloaded gobs of spit all over his back. To this, Illidge did not reactuntil a song or two later, when he sprayed slobber all over the side of D’Amico’s face in return. During “Self Medicate,” I realized that drummer Carlos Aguilar is the one singing the chorus. His voice is a hypnotizing drug that you’d rob your family and friends to taste again. The set finished up with “F.E.” rather than “Wither Away,” which is what many fans were screaming for. But once Ill Nino’s Cristian Machado joined 40 Below on stage, it no longer mattered. Machado actually appears on the album during this song. It was a great way to get the crowd ready for the mighty Ill Nino.

    The backdrop displayed a new logo I had not yet seen. Well, I don’t know how I would have seen it, because Ill Nino hasn’t played San Diego since OzzFest two summers ago. The first few songs were “If You Still Hate Me,” “I Am Loco,” and “Te Amo I Hate You” from the newer release, CONFESSION. It was after these three songs that I noticed a second drum kit onstage. The two sets meshed together, providing that heavy tribal beat that is the root of Ill Nino’s sound. An acoustic guitar was brought out to accent the more docile portions of “What Comes Around,” during which the members of Ill Nino will have their eyes closed and heads tilted toward the sky, feeling each word just as their smitten audience does. An Ill Nino show is intimate, no matter how many people are watching. The crowd respectfully destroys each other in the pit or stands with arms around each other’s shoulders, swaying, singing the lyrics together as one mouth. After “Without You,” the two drummers had a downright sick drum solo that left impressed mouths open. The band quickly went into “Unreal,” rocked it, and then paused to let the audience soak it all in one last time before the finale. The silence suggested the last song was coming. Some guy yelled out “Rumba,” but they’d played that already. It was “Liar.” Thank god it was “Liar.” Every scrap of throat tissue left untorched was thrown into singing this song and leaving it all out on the floor. tom@dayinthelyfe.com

ATREYU
FROM AUTUMN TO ASHES
THE BREAK
April 30, 2004
@ Soma (San Diego, CA)
Text by Thomas Murray
Photos by xKATIx

    Friday night at Soma means no school tomorrow. Therefore, legions of kiddies in black T-shirts swarm like angry bees around a hive of hardcore music. The early-bird masses did not seem overly impressed with The Break, a band straight from the Jersey suburbs. Their lead singer, armed with a faux hawk and back-pocket bandanna, sounded like a squirrelly talent-show entry. No one could understand what he was saying and not because their ears weren’t tuned for the loud: the sound just sucked, and nothing was balanced. However, the band was spunky, full of beans, and wanted desperately to appeal to the audience...but never really got there. Another song ended, and half the audience wasn’t even paying attention. Side conversations and grab-ass horseplay took over the focus of many patrons. The frustrated, bandana-wielding vocalist wiped sweat from his brow and searched the fields of faces for a nod of encouragement; he found only impatient scowls. To address the jeering boos and rude comments, the band called the audience “cunts” and “Jerrys,” which obviously won them no love. But you had to respect the way they took the negative energy and channeled through their amplifiers and into the ears of the hostile hooligans. Someone from the crowd yelled out, “What the hell are you trying to do here?” and pretty much summed up the majority reaction to The Break. The highlight of the set was when the singer claimed that Atreyu eats babies’ brains. That was nicely put.

The Break

    A three-dimensional X lowers from the rafters with the initials “FATA” displayed proudly in the middle. Minor instrument tune-ups are completed, while anxiety has taken the tips of every fingernail left in the place. Finally, From Autumn to Ashes runs out like a herd of 1970s gameshow hosts to the tune of strangely upbeat circus music. Everyone begins clapping together in a jolly tempo. The intro music diminishes to the humming of a single guitar string, and then the curled lips of Benjamin Perri growl “I felt you SLIP AWAY.” The gates lowered, hammers dropped, and everyone started punishing each other to the sound of “Reflections.” Behind a flickering and creepy guitar line, Perri supplies the angered screams, while drummer Francis Mark contributes the melodic choruses that burst with confusion and the relationship between beauty and pain. When not adding the sensitive vocals to FATA’s songs, Mark is seen pounding drumbeats and twirling his sticks. The rhythm section of the band looks like the kids that impatiently stand behind you in the video store, skinny arms full of old VHS tapes with titles you’ve never heard of. They don’t talk to you and sure as hell don’t like the idea of you. “Lilacs and Lolita” was dedicated to the guys in Atreyu and played in perfect live form. It sounded like the album version, only better, different. If I wanted to hear the damn CD, I wouldn’t leave the house. FATA understands this concept. “Lilacs and Lolita” is off the latest album, FICTION WE LIVE, which boasts song titles such as “All I Taste Is What’s Her Name” and “I’m the Best at Ruining My Life.” FATA fired up the crowd so severely that the mosh pits continued in between songs. The performance these guys put on is one of the utmost elite and top notch in energy and song quality.

From Autumn to Ashes

Atreyu emerged from wherever it is that the musicians come out from and stood before a swelling crowd full of kids who know the lyrics to their songs. The mosh-pit walls had broken down since FATA had finished, but there were “those kids” eagerly awaiting the opportunity to crash into their peers and open them up again, now bigger and better than before. Some people take pride in this type of thing, like the guy at the baseball games who starts all the “waves.” It didn’t take long before frontman Alex Varkatzas was barking and screaming passionately at something that no longer resembled a gathering of San Diego’s youth but rather a collection of flailing arms and legs thrown with malicious intent. Drummer and co-vocalist Brandon Sallers offers to Atreyu what Francis Mark does to FATA: choruses of beautifully sung, sensitive lyrics that map out youthful descriptions of strugglea perfect contrast and complement to Varkatzas’s attacking your eardrums and making you feel the unpleasant emotions that you attempt to hide from yourself. Atreyu played what their fans needed to hear off of their 2002 release SUICIDE NOTES AND BUTTERFLY KISSES, fixes such as “Tulips Are Better,” “Dilated,” and “Ain’t Love Grand.” A few songs in, Soma felt like every clichÈd description of hot you’ve ever heard: hell, furnace, burning alive, sweating bullets, fried eggs on the cement, etc. The action on the floor suffered a bit, but the band kept jamming out tunes of frustrated encouragement. The highlight from a performance aspect was when all three guitar-carrying members lined up next to each other and swung their instruments in unison. It looked like a hair-band throwback with hints of a good sense of humor. The band did justice to their existing album, their fans, and also the promotion of their upcoming album, THE CURSE, eagerly anticipated for mid June.

CHEAP SEX
THE HAVOC
THE ABIOTX
THE SCARRED
ANNEX
May 2, 2004
@ the Showcase Theatre (Corona, CA)
Review by Johnny Rocket

   You know those lazy, late Sunday afternoons when the sun is slowly sinking behind the hills and all can you do is dread the fact that you either have school or work the next day? Well, there was some solace this evening in the form of street _unk at the Sho_case Theatre. I had been looking forward to this show for awhile, and I was happy that the day had finally come. It was still unexpectedly warm outside, but the kids didn’t care. When you got your denim, studs, and leather, a little heat isn’t going to phase you.

   Annex kicked off the show to a disappointing number of people who looked like they were still waking up from sleeping all day long. Annex didn’t care and tore through their set. I’ve never heard this band before, and they weren’t that excitingmaybe because no one was into it. Their energy was good, though, and they played a tight set. They did play a cover of Minor Threat’s “Screaming at a Wall,” which got my attention and woke up a few kids.

   I was eager to see The Scarred once again. If you haven’t heard these guys yet, then put down this magazine (or click inside your URL bar, for you geeks reading this online) and go check out www.thescarred.com/. Not only is it one of the better designed band Websites, but it has a ton of stuff to check outand, most importantly, some killer mp3s. The Scarred, who just recently rocked themselves across the country, were back in town to play this show and a few others here and there before heading out on tour again this summer. They finally set up and brought their modernized ‘77 sound that they pull off so well. This is rock ‘n’ roll punk done right, with well-placed guitar solos and hooks that will have you singing without realizing it. They played almost every song from their recently self-released CD, REPRESSION. My favorite song is “Submission,” which I believe they opened with. Stop wasting your time and go listen to them, NOW.

    I found myself outside talking with some of the bands and taking a few photos of The Scarred after they had finished their set. Unfortunately, I missed the entire set of The Abiotx because of this. It seemed like a lot of people were interested in seeing these guys, and I feel bad for not watching them. Cruise on over to www.abiotx.com and check these guys out for yourselves. They are also tagging along with The Havoc for some tour dates, so head on over to www.havocpunx.com for more information on that business.

    Punkcore Record’s own The Havoc were ready to lay down a barrage of classic street punk for everyone in attendance. Now that a decent amount of people had finally arrived for the show, there was a proper punk-rock experience. The Havoc has grown by leaps and bounds over the past couple years, moving from the small WHO’S GONNA DIE 7-inch to the debut record OUR REBELLION’S JUST BEGUN on Punkcore Records. The Havoc played every song that I wanted to hear, and they did so with aggression and passion. They played “Time Is Up,” “No Escape,” and the classic tracks “We Want the Truth” and “Selective Service.” I know it’s pretty clichÈd to talk about how “nice” band members are, but you will probably never meet anyone more honest and cool than the boys in The Havoc. They were happy to announce that they were going to be recording some more songs very soon in hopes of putting out a new EP by the summer.

    Cheap Sex is fronted by Mike Virus, and you can tell by the vocals. Cheap Sex got up there and started pumping out songs right away, enticing the crowd with some new material. I enjoyed watching Mike work the crowd while singing, especially his various poses and expressions. It was good to see the kids return the favor, since the beginning of the show lacked any real energy or movement. Cheap Sex really embodies what a fun punk show should be. However, they aren’t afraid to take their music seriously, as Mike talked about the uselessness of suicide. We also can’t forget the political songs, like the ode to our vice-president, “Dick Cheney.” Most of their set came off of their debut album LAUNCH OFF TO WAR, but they also played two new songs, “False Pride” and “Headed for a Breakdown” (the latter of which is the title of their upcoming EP, which should be out this August or sometime after that).
This was a pretty solid show, and it was good to see that quality punk rock is still alive in kicking in a world ruled by indie rock and dance pop.

BULLET TRAIN TO VEGAS
FEABLE WEINER
MY HOTEL YEAR
FAULTER
PLAY PRETTY FOR BABY
May 4, 2004
@ Chain Reaction (Anaheim, CA)
Text and photos by the Jeff Penalty

   The bottom line of this review comes right at the top: Play Pretty for Baby is the best fucking band I’ve seen in yearsand if there’s one band more people should know about, it’s them. They defy straight categorization by presenting post-punk without the pretension and mixing it with equal parts danceable pop and skull-crushing hardcore. I know it doesn’t sound like it would work, but trust me, it does. Their set caused people to actually unfold their arms and step in towards the stage, unconsciously drawn in by the sound and the spectacle. Play Pretty for Baby can’t be summed up easily, but they have mastered the art of rock without neglecting the art of roll, and they are as urgent and intense as it gets without sacrificing dynamics or musicianship. They are that something real we’ve all been searching for since the mid ‘80s, and, given the right amount of exposure, they are poised to do nothing less than change the entire musical landscape. Go see their next show. I swear on my soul you will not be sorry.

   I had already reviewed the next band, Faulter, a while back, so I knew what to expect...and I wasn’t looking forward to it. To summarize: I do not like this band, but if you are a major record label looking to make a truckload of money, you should look these dudes up. I don’t get it, but they get an amazing response from the key high-school demographic, and they easily outdrew every other band that night. The style of music ain’t for me, but they do what they do extraordinarily well. They’ve got talent and stage energyÖIt’s just a shame they decide to pump it into that whiny post-hardcore shit that’s been done to death and needs to stop worse than nu-metal ever did. I hate to keep bagging on these guys, but I doubt my little opinions will bring any tears to their eyes when they’re showing off their houses for MTV CRIBS.

   The first thing that struck me about My Hotel Year was that they were breaking a rule of rock that only Hot Water Music seems to have been able to overcome: they have two guitarists who sing and a bassist who doesn’t, yet the bassist stands at center stage. So, you end up staring at the bassist, which is weak, because the focus is drawn away from the people doing the singing and this poor dude in the middle is forced to hold the audience’s attention with an arsenal of only four strings. I don’t know if I just had Hot Water Music on the brain because of the stage set-up, but they sounded a bit similar to them, with a poppier edge. Worth a listen if you like Hot Water Music but wish they had a poppier edge.

   Feable Weiner was the pleasant surprise of the night. They were clearly punch drunk as a result of being on tour from all the way out in Tennessee, but all those nights on the road left them well-practiced and in great spirits. They goofed around and worked the audience like total pros, and they played their instruments like they came out of the womb with them attached. Aside from Play Pretty for Baby, theirs was the only full set I watched all night. They sounded a little like Weezer or Jimmy Eat World, but with balls and a smile. They also violated the bassist-in-the-middle rule, but at least their guy tossed in a few backing vocals here and there. Still, I urge all bassists to heed my warning: unless you are also the main vocalist of the group, stay off to the side of the stage where you and your kind belong. Aside from that, Feable Weiner is the best thing to come out of Tennessee since my Saturn.

Play Pretty for Baby

   And then, finally, I would get to see what all the hoopla was about Bullet Train to Vegas. Actually, no, I wouldn’t. They weren’t all that great. Not bad, but I definitely didn’t see why they were top-billed or why they were the band on this bill that I’d heard the most about. In fairness, the singer explained that the band had recently come off tour and hadn’t practiced in a few weeks. Unfortunately, it showed, with lots of pauses between songs and a lack of energy all around. You could see their potential shining through, but for whatever reason, it wasn’t their night. I’ll give them another shot before I condone or condemn them.

   Overall, the night wasn’t anything to shout about, except for the privilege of getting to see Play Pretty for Baby and having some kid named Julio grab my ass. I look forward to experiencing at least one of those things again in the immediate future.

MONEEN
NORTHSTAR
THE FIGHT
CHRONIC FUTURE
May 8, 2004
@ the Epicentre (San Diego, CA)
By Beth VanBoxtel

    One of the most disappointing things to happen in regards to attending a show is to arrive after an anticipated band has already played. I found that the show began earlier than usual for the Epicentre, and so I missed what may have been my only chance to see touring wonder Chronic Future.

   After entering the venue, my eyes were drawn to the most appealing view: the three guys and one girl who make up U.K. pop-punk band The Fight were on stage. The Fight was on a month-long tour across the United States (evident from their multiple road cases crowding the outer parts of the stage). I was compelled to draw near to the stage, as this band impressed me with their intricate guitar work, which melted over the non-abrasive vocals coming from the female vocalist. The drummer didn’t slip up on his timing, and he also didn’t steal the show from the guitarists. I would describe them as being very experienced on stage, but their music was far from being unique. This summer they will be supporting Yellowcard and Sugarcult in Europe. Check out their seven-song EP released from Fat Wreck Chords, HOME IS WHERE THE HATE IS, and visit their Website: .

   Northstar (from Huntsville, AL) had quickly assumed their positions on stage as the crowd drew closer to witness this spectacle. This was their second time playing in San Diego and the third show since their bassist had gotten over a severe case of pancreatitis, which previously caused Northstar to play their sets on this tour acoustically. This tour was planned around the April 20 release of their 10-song album from Triple Crown Records, POLYANNA. Four of the songs during their set were from that album, including “For Members Only” and “Polyanna”. The set was full of slow, melodic, and happy music mixed in with a few vibrant and abrupt transitions that created an edgy appeal. Vocalist Nick Torres has a very soothing and (at times) extremely good falsetto singing voice, which complemented the cute lyrics and ballads. Giving their full effort and energy, their gripping performance made them look very polished.

   Continuing on with the happy, uplifting music of the night, Moneen (from Ontario, Canada) was welcomed with warm applause as they took the stage. The previous time this band was in San Diego was with Brand New at a sold-out show. Although Moneen hasn’t release an album since June of 2003, their fans still outnumber that of the opening acts with newer releases. This very active band kept the stage alive by kicking, running across the stage, diving, jumping, and bashing into their amps. Their music wasn’t sloppy at all, as it flowed as best it could with all the thick bass lines, noodle-like guitar sounds, and crunchy drum fills. As they tackled and killed every song, the crowd got more and more psyched up—especially when the vocalist made awkward eye contact and messed with kids standing in the front row. While there were still two songs remaining, Moneen forcefully threw their guitars down to the ground to magnify their intensity as a band. I really wonder if they do this for every show. Maybe they were just particularly hyper this night. Check them out for yourselves, as they are on tour with Braid and Recover in July.

THE STANDS
LO MASS REPUBLIC
BIG CITY ROCK
AM RADIO
May 15, 2004
@ the Troubadour (West Hollywood, CA)
By Prudence Farrow

   I came to this show with high expectations for the night’s first act, The Stands. The reason was due to an over-generalization that bands from Liverpool have a high potential for success that can be traced back to a certain other British band. To my relief and satisfaction, The Stands not only met my expectations but surpassed them. Lead singer Howie Payne has a distinctive trait in his voice reminiscent of John Lennon that is charming yet powerful. The drummer is one of the most avid and passionate performers I have ever seen. I managed to sneak a peek at the set list. Songs that stood out from the rest were “She Speaks of Things,” “Here She Comes Again,” and “The Way She Does.” Unfortunately, there were only a few people in attendance, but most of them responded positively (although one or two appeared bored of the recurring lengthy instrumentals). More concert-goers should have taken advantage of tonight’s show, because it was the last of only two shows The Stands played in Los Angeles before going off on tour to the U.K. and Australia. Music fans, next time The Stands are in the area, I strongly suggest letting them know that America appreciates good music just as much as England does.

   The band Lo Mass Republic (whose name I have yet to fully understand) are quite out of the ordinary. When I first saw the band members walk upon the stage, it was evident that they have a collective style, with leather jackets, dark clothing, and grim looks on their faces. Indeed, their music paralleled their lookbut in a good way. Lo Mass Republic play with a passion that is rarely seen in bands today. Each band member plays fervently to match the overall intensity and eclectic style of their music. The lead singer mostly gazes upward while singing. Why, you ask? I have no idea, but it seemed to make him perform in a seemingly poetic fashion. Lo Mass Republic have an unconventional sound that fulfills a specific audience’s distinctive musical tastejust not specifically mine. I read that their debut album has been highly anticipated and is in stores now. Download a song on their Website, LoMassRepublic.com, and see if their style satisfies your own musical palate.
The crowd began to grow as L.A.’s own Big City Rock took the stage. Once a quartet, Big City Rock has now developed into a quintet, having added lead guitarist Andy Barr, who seemed especially happy and was all smiles throughout the entire set. Fans responded optimistically and even formed small, frenzied dance circles to welcome the new addition and fully enjoy their favorite songs (such as “Do You Know What You Want” and “Only If You Want Me To”). For some reason, ridiculously huge granny underwear (which I had originally thought were shawls) started flying onto the stage. The band did their best to avoid getting tangled up in them and managed to maintain their rhythm. What is admirable about this band is that the members are interactive with their audienceespecially tonight, as some of them even picked up a few pairs of the huge underwear and threw them back to the audience. In my view, Big City Rock have good stage presence, despite their sometimes unusual antics. Their energy is contagious, and they put on a show that maintains your interest. Catch BCR at the upcoming International Pop Overthrow July 21st at the Knitting Factory in Hollywood.

   The fourth quarter of a Lakers playoff game was conveniently going on during the night’s show. Don’t ask how I know about the Lakers game. (Sports oppugners, try not be disgusted of my knowing.) Some people who had been watching Big City Rock began to retreat towards the end of the set and began tightly packing into a room separate from the actual concert venue. Even the security guards were avidly watching the game on a television set up in the corner. To the dismay of AM Radio, the game was still going on as they began their set. Even lead singer Kevin Ridel recognized the fact and thanked those actually watching the show for choosing AM Radio over the Lakers. Fans who stuck around for AM Radio’s set did not seem too responsive during what seemed to be new songs. But with Ridel’s use of a ‘60s-style microphone and a performance of old favorites such as “Taken for a Ride,” “I Stole the Show,” and “I Just Wanna Be Loved,” the energy was finally noticeable from both the band and the crowd. AM Radio have said goodbye to their former guitarist Jason Moore and (like Big City Rock) have a new addition, spiky-haired guitarist Matt. Still, AM Radio maintain their charmingly harmonious sound and catchy melodies that make them the irresistible quintet they have always been.

BEN KWELLER
FRENCH KICKS
ON THE SPEAKERS
May 15, 2004
@ House of Blues (Anaheim, CA)
By Mindy Poder

   Who doesn’t absolutely adore the House of Blues’ security guards? All sarcasm aside, those security guards need to learn how to not be, in the words of an intelligent show-goer, “total buzz-killers.” Nonetheless, the line-up of the show cancelled the negative forces exerted by the large, bald, yellow-shirted men and made the night a rather pleasant experience.

    Unfortunately, I only was able to hear about two songs from On the Speakers because a security guard thought it would be rather humorous to kick me out because I had a camera. It turns out I did not have a photo pass and I got my camera inside with pure luck. After arguing with the box office, I decided I might as well pay the $2 to store my camera. This, of course, was preceded by another security guard scolding me briefly about bringing in my camera, but only after he blatantly hit on me and wasted more of the precious time I could be listening to On the Speakers. I made my way back inside the venue, and On the Speakers had already finished their set. I really enjoyed what I saw and even heard some Scooby-Doo references in one of the band’s songs. Two of the band members sang different lines at the same time, which can either go horribly wrong or go off wonderfully. Fortunately for them, they mastered the technique and gained my admiration.

   The next thing I recall is being transfixed and enamored by French Kicks. I heard a few of their songs and thought that they sounded a bit like Spoon. I never considered myself a huge fan until this show. Their set demonstrated how well the five charming band members complement one another on stage. Their presence added sincerity to their songs, which practically begged the audience members to listen and to love every note played. During their opening song, “One More Time,” Nick Stumpf, the talented lead singer/keyboard player/drummer, was attacked by a few screaming girls desiring to touch one of his sacred body parts. Since Nick spent most of his time singing and playing keyboards, his friend Aaron enthusiastically filled in on the drums. “Close to Modern” (from ONE TIME BELLS) and “Piano” (from YOUNG LAWYER) were two of the songs that translated particularly well on stage. Both songs displayed the charming dance moves of Nick Stumpf.
Before I knew it, my longtime obsession, Ben Kweller, was opening his set with “Commerce, Tx.” Since this was my fourth time seeing Kweller, I recognized his traveling bass player Josh Latanzi and drummer John Kent. However, fan favorite Mike Stroud (who has left to pursue his band Ratatat) was replaced by Jason (who was dressed all in stripes). After playing “Sha Sha,” the title track from Ben’s first album, Kweller wished a boy a happy bar mitzvah and contemplated singing “The Dreidel Song.” Instead, he played “My Apartment,” an ode to New York City, “the place where [he] belongs.” After “Walk on Me” was performed, the band left Ben alone to charm the crowd. Ben talked about the cover of his new album, which pictures him with three wolves. He told the crowd of the picture’s legitimacy, promising that it was not a product of Photoshop and was taken at a San Bernardino ranch. After playing “B.K. Baby,” a cover of Vanilla Ice’s “Ice Ice Baby” that has become a fan favorite over the years, Ben attempted to cover “Milkshake” by Kelis and reaffirmed my belief that he is, indeed, a superior human being. He gave up and said “I don’t even have a milkshake,” then proceeded to sing “Lizzy,” a beautiful song about his wife. After he played “Problems,” a song he played frequently on his recent tour, the band rejoined him. Afterwards, Ben relived the band’s day in Anaheim for the entertainment of the audience. He detailed his experiences at Disneyland and California Adventure (which he mistakenly referred to as California Experience). Some of Ben’s Disneyland highlights included riding the Tower of Terror and Indiana Jones. The song that ended the 90-minute set was “No Reason,” and the crowd was enthralled by the 15-minute instrumental. Since this was the last show on Ben’s tour, it was obvious the band was trying to savor every minute they had on stage. They cherished the time that they may have taken for granted in earlier shows. The band’s effort resulted in a show so amazing that the audience easily believed Ben’s statement that this was “the best show of the whole tour.”

GROOVIE GHOULIES
THE SMUGGLERS
TREEPHORT
LIGHT THE FUSE
THE PHENOMENAUTS
May 19, 2004
@ Chain Reaction (Anaheim, CA)
Text and photos by the Jeff Penalty

    The stars somehow aligned perfectly on this particular evening to bring together one of the most fun lineups that could ever possibly exist. Describing the show as an astrological event is certainly fitting regarding openers The Phenomenauts, whose hard-edged rockabilly sound was complemented by homemade sci-fi costumes and cool toysmost notably a leaf-blower rigged with a toilet-paper roll that sent streams of paper over the audience and a huge inflated globe that was volleyed around the crowd until it burst and caused a confetti snowfall. You didn’t have to be a rockabilly fan for The Phenomenauts to bring a smile to your face. And with a crowd full of smiling faces, the show was underway!

    Light the Fuse was the only hiccup of the evening. They tested my patience by taking forever to tune when they first took the stage. Come on, guys, you knew what time the set was. Tune in advance! And for future reference: you’re only allowed to ask “How’s everybody doin’ tonight?” once per show. It seemed like they were trying to sound like New Found Glory, but the singer was trying to push them in the direction of Papa Roach. Dudes, I’m begging you: don’t go in the direction of either of those bands.

Light The Fuse

   If you haven’t heard the legends, let me quickly recap some memories from my last Treephort show: spit and punches exchanged between band members, guy-on-guy tongue action, unitards, and a human pyramid that developed into self-abuse with forks. Tonight, it seemed like Treephort was trying to shed their reputation of being all about the gimmick, as they ripped through several songs without incident. Thankfully, songs like “Teenage Girl Photography Phase,” “Jesus Would Play This Show for Free,” and the accompanying hysterical stage banter made up for the initial lack of freaky antics. Soon enough, though, the guitarist was stripping down to a pair of panties, making out with the singer (and members of the audience!), walking on his hands, sticking a drumstick up his ass, and (of course) lighting his groin on fire. While all of the above was going on, the singer gave a long speech about how bands always try to shock people, but that everyone’s seen it all before. I agree: if bands think they’re “crazy” for stripping on stage, let’s see if they’re crazy enough to let Treephort open for them. Theatrics aside, Treephort is punk in the truest sense of the word. The anger and frustration inside them is pure (and they practically tear their instruments apart trying to get it out); but, at the same time, they have a solid fucking sense of humor. Musically, they’re raw and unpolished, but that’s what bands used to sound like before people realized punk could turn a profitand it sounds beautiful. Treephort will most likely never take over the top spot on TRL, but I like to picture a society in which such a thing is possiblemy vision of utopia. (Actually, in my utopia there’s no such thing as TRL in the first place...but you get my point.)

   As if the show wasn’t good enough already, The Smugglers took the stage next and kicked large, fleshy chunks of ass. They’re dangerously underrated and deserved a much bigger and more responsive crowd, but they got things moving with a dance contest that had two very brave members of the audience wiggling around like nut bars in front of the stage. Despite the fact that most people were still too self-conscious to move, the band kept firing on all cylinders. They were totally on top of their game, their suits looked snazzy as ever, and they made me fall in love with them all over again.

   And then Groovie Ghoulies leaped onto the stage in all their Halloween-themed, pop-punk splendor and further warmed my heart with a tightly-woven set of what must’ve been about 20 songs (performed in about 40 minutes!). They capped off the show with a few requests, dusting off one of my favorite tunes, “Dolemite.” I’ve never seen the Ghoulies give anything less than 200% on stage. In fact, I have a theory that they’re all actually vampires, because they never seem to ageand also because they sing about vampires constantly, they only come out at night, and they’re too nice to be mere mortals. Certainly, it’s well worth the risk of being forced to join the ranks of the undead for the privilege of taking in a Groovie Ghoulies show, because if they can’t help you forget your troubles for an evening, you’ve got some serious problems

Groovie Ghoulies

    With only one exception, the bands on this bill were like the heroes of an ‘80s movie. They’re underdogs, but they’re all heart, and you want to see them win out, because they represent all that’s good and sweet in the worldand they’re trying so hard just to keep their heads above water. They are the Daniel Larusos and Cru Joneses of music, and if the fucking industry brings them down, I’ll totally start crying. But for now, the memory of this show will keep me happy and will remind me that, on occasion, the good guys (and gals!) do win.

D.O.A.
PIEBALD
THE JEALOUS SOUND
THE FORMAT
May 20, 2004
@ the Knitting Factory (New York, NY)
Text by Matthew Siblo
Photos by Janelle Jones

   Just a few days ago I was engaged in a conversation with a co-worker about how oftentimes there exists a fundamental hypocrisy within the nuances and dynamics of rock ‘n’ roll and its fanbase. I hypothesized that since rock ‘n’ roll was a music that spoke directly to its fans on issues to which they could often relate, we very often find ourselves creating an interesting and most of the time unrealistically personal bond with its performers. This is true in punk music especially, it being a genre that formed around the idea that its performers are no different from those watch (although maybe it’s not so these days). This can then lead to the selfish tendency to feel cheated when we feel that we’ve lost some of that intimacy we once shared with a band. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to silence the ultimately immature and one-sided argument behind using the term “sell-out” and instead generally wish them well but stop following them. Sadly, this is the situation with Boston’s favorite oddballs, Piebald. But in the name of nostalgia (a.k.a. the single known largest killer of rock ‘n’ roll integrity), I decided to give them one last shot on their recent trip to New York. Besides, that bond with the performer and audience works both ways. How many times do we buy a new album or see a band live that we haven’t listened to in years? Breaking up is always hard to do on all sides, especially when they were once the only friends that we had.
If I were British, I’d say that The Format is absolute rubbish. Since I am American, I’ll have to suffice to use phrases to describe them such as “faceless morons” and “unintelligent pop-rock for 16-year-old girls who look toward WB shows for musical suggestions.” This band was as uninspired and forgettable as their name suggests, and their uncanny knack for ripping off second-tier bands like Rooney and The Thrills was painstakingly accurate. One highlight included a cover of Billy Joel’s “Moving Out,” which made them sound more like a band who should be paid a hundred dollars to play a bar mitzvah rather than a punk show. Already signed to their second major after the collapse of Elektra, I wouldn’t be surprised if they found themselves on a teen movie soundtrack or two in the very near future.

   The Jealous Sound (who include former members of veteran emo act Knapsack) took the stage quietly and presented themselves modestly and humbly, which aptly set the tone for their entire set. The band’s driving, earnest sound is quite familiar and appealing (if not just a tad bland in a live setting). Lead singer Blair Shenan’s unique vocals help the band stand out among their contemporaries, but by the fifth or sixth track it’s apparent that his melodies are quite unvarying, leading many of their songs to sound alike. Playing mostly stuff off their latest full-length KILL THEM WITH KINDNESS, their no-frills approach and big choruses eventually won me over but failed to strike with enough pizzazz for me to invest in the record. Interpret that as you will.

   “We’ve got a job to do / And this is it!” Travis Shettel proudly shrieks in “The Monkey versus the Robot” (off their last album, WE’RE THE ONLY FRIENDS WE HAVE). Since then, Piebald has taken their “job” very seriously, touring endlessly for a solid year or two with everyone from The Juliana Theory to Cave In. The band is finally back with a new tour, a new label (the quite surprising choice of Side One Dummy), and a brand new record, ALL EARS, ALL EYES, ALL THE TIME. With all of that excitement said, from the samples they offered to the near-capacity crowd at the Knitting Factory, it seems as if the band might have been better off when they had kept their day jobs. Whereas the band has nobly matured by leaps and bounds from their earlier material, I can’t help but detect a sense of frustration and confusion in where they wanted to go musically with this record. Travis’s self-proclaimed “piano-power half-hour” sounded misdirected and out of place between schlocky, good-time anthems such as “Just a Simple Plan” and “Karate Chops for Everyone but Us.” And while guitarist Aaron Stuart did his best to kick out the jams by frantically throwing himself about and partaking in the time-honored tradition of Townshend windmills, his efforts were just not enough. Mr. Shettel’s once-glorious wailing has now been replaced by half-hearted attempts at normal vocal linesand flat ones, at that. The band’s set list was shaky, at best, and it has become strikingly apparent that the band is ready to move on from their older material. Overall, Piebald’s set left me a little nostalgic, a little disappointed, and ultimately yearning for the past. And as I previously mentioned, it’s hard not take such a transformation personally, just as it’s hard to watch a band who no longer feel that strong connection that you once did. A long time ago, Mick said that it’s only rock ‘n’ roll, but sometimes we can’t help but feel it’s so much more. Much to my chagrin, Piebald no longer has the power to do so for me.

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