skip to main |
skip to sidebar
I must confess, y'all, I sometimes don't pay Baltimore all that much attention when it comes to shows. Yes, it's only an hour or so away, and yes they have some fine venues up there...but sometimes it just slips my mind. What can I say. Obviously, I'll have to change my evil ways, cuz I almost missed the boat on one heck of a show. If it hadn't been for my partner in crime, the lovely Laura, I would have remained painfully unaware of the amazingness Baltimore had in store at the Ottobar, featuring the one and only Delta Spirit and the one and only (and LET faves!) Darker My Love. To say shame on me just doesn't quite resonate loudly enough. But it all worked out in the end. I came, I saw, I sonically swooned.
MINI RECAP: Darker My Love = Full of Awesome Surprises! The Delta Spirit = Full of Expected Awesome! Overall Score: B++
Darker My Love. What more can I say about this band? For a little while now they've been one of my favorite bands, and some of my favorite band people. Their brand of crazy California psych revival revelry puts me on Cloud 9. So naturally, I was thrilled when they took the stage. And, ladies and gentlemen, they proceeded to rock my world once more. Obviously, while recording new record Alive As You Are, the band locked themselves in the California desert with their collection of Byrds, Flying Burrito Brothers, Gram Parsons, and Crosby, Still, Nash & Young records. I say this because the sounds that came from that stage were quite a departure from records numbers 1 and 2. They strutted their bad sonic selves all over the place, heavy on the hot damn twang and purty harmonies. It was a direction I never would have expected, but then again, isn't it awesome when bands can throw you for a loop? It's one heck of a magical mystery tour, but I'm telling you now that Darker My Love might just be better than ever.
After catching my breath and washing it down with another beer, it was time for The Delta Spirit. When last I saw TDS, they were sassing it up on an opening slot for the beloved Nada Surf a couple years back. I was impressed back then, and was excited to see them do it all over again headlining their own show. And I tell you what. I wasn't disappointed. From the get-go they were saucing it up on that there stage, throwing out beaty, meaty riffs and tight drumming and entirely excellent little ditties galore. The crowd absolutely loved 'em, and I second the mob's opinion. Here's a band that can take you to real lovely, gentle places just as easily as they can get you dancing around without a care in the world. Let it not be said that The Delta Spirit can't get their rocks off, friends. Their jumbly, big sound was ever so delightful. And the way they fed off the crowd was so nice to see, the band seemed blissed out playing for the lively Baltimoreans. "This has been a really fun show for us," they said, and there's no doubt it was the truth. The crowd was attentive to each and every note. "People C'mon" was a crowd favorite, ragged and rough and hot diggity dog fantastic. Their set was so rowdy it was almost exhausting.
All in all, friends, this was one of the best shows I almost forgot about all year long. These two bands are great in their own right, but stick 'em together and you've got quite the golden ticket. But hey now. Don't take my word for it. Go see 'em for yourself, and just try to tell me I'm wrong.
mp3: Dear Author (Darker My Love from Alive As You Are)
mp3: Salt In The Wound (The Delta Spirit from History From Below) (courtesy Untitled Records)
Over the course of this whole 100 shows undertaking I've tried rather hard not to double up on bands. I wanted to experience and cover as many different bands as humanly possible. But sometimes, well, I just can't resist. And who am I to turn down an invitation to what I already knew would be an amazing show? I'll tell you what, darlings, as good as the show was up there in Philly, this here Baltimore show blew it out of the water. So pardon me while I lather on for days about the excellence of this Dandy Warhols and Hopewell show, because it was fantastic with a capital fantastic.
MINI RECAP: Hopewell = Keeping Hope Alive! Dandy Warhols = Dandy As Candy! Overall Score: A
At first, Ram's Head Live seemed a strange, strange place for this show to take place. It's in this kind of surreal part of Baltimore, down by the Inner Harbor, that feels more like a Disney-fied Vegas than a place for indie bands of all shapes and sizes. But after this show, I don't know if it could have happened at any other venue in any other city. It was nothing short of one of a kind.
Up first, Hopewell. With the added atmosphere of some burning incense, they were immediately epic, just as they were in Philly and just as I would expect. The setlist was a carbon copy of the Electric Factory show, and yet everything sounded just a shade better here, a sentiment I extend not only to the bands but the crowd as well. The primal screaming that is "Over The Mountain" was more intense, the ferocity of "Trumpet For A Lung" more biting. Vocalist Jason Russo's smile, too, that emerges at times during certain notes of certain songs, seemed just a touch wider. In "Trumpet For A Lung", the soft glimpses of delicacy amidst the chaotic storm und drang of the murderous mess sounded quite possibly more glorious than I've ever heard. "We're working for you," sayeth Russo before the band ripped "Calcutta" to beautiful shreds for their final number. Their set was powerful, captivating, and pretty dang breathtaking. This, friends, if you haven't yet picked up on it, is a band you need to experience for yourselves. They'll show you darkness and they'll show you rays of blinding sunlight, and you'll love it all.
And speaking of loving it all, here come those Dandy Warhols. As with Hopewell, they too were infinitely more stupendous in Baltimore. They all also seemed in better humor than a couple of nights previous. Or perhaps, to quoth main Dandys man Courtney Taylor, they were feeling "zesty." I couldn't stop grinning the entire set, every song was a gem. Who doesn't love the breathy, stalker-lite vocals of the creepy "I Love You"? Or the bittersweet "The Last High"? Or the way Taylor can exude an air of total and utter indifference, in my mind second only to the foxy apathy of Blur's Alex James in the Britpop era? "Here's a zesty one for you," Taylor announced, before the band took on their biggun, "Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth". The back-to-back-to-back shimmy shake of "Shakin'" and "Horse Pills" and "Solid" got my motor running something fierce, and made me remember just how good a record Thirteen Tales From Urban Bohemia is. Buy it, y'all, unless of course you already know what's up.
During an impeccable rendition of "Boys Better" it hit me that Pete Holmstrom is an amazing, amazing guitarist. And it wasn't just because he can do the ole Pete Townshend windmill move to perfection. This man can straight up shred. He's got fancy guitars and works every one of them with immeasurable skill. "Good Morning" was flawless, the magic spell of fuzz winding and twisting me into a waking dream. Another treat was hearing the not at all oft-played "Cool As Kim Deal", another old school favorite of mine. While Zia McCabe and Brent "Fathead" DeBoer were gettin their bathroom on, Courtney strummed an acoustic version of "Every Day Should Be A Holiday", featuring a pretty fine singalong by we crowdspeople that put quite a smile on the face of Mr. Taylor-Taylor. Their 21-song salute of a set ended with "Country Leaver", which, if they had to stop playing, was a good way to go out. Sure, I would have loved to hear "Godless", or "Be-In", or "Hard-On For Jesus", but I can't fault what was played. Maybe next time they'll play for three hours instead of two...now there's an idea.
You would think that two brilliant sets by two incomparable bands would have been enough to call it a dandy of a night, but no, it somehow got better. Drinking next door at Mex well after the show ended, another treat was in store. Imagine, friends, an impromptu performance with sassy lass Zia on vocals (and shimmying), Courtney on drums, and Ralphie (host of the evening at Mex) on guitar. It was all rather silly, even before Brent took over guitar duties and a belligerently large man had to be dragged off the tiny stage by several Mex folks. But then, randomly, came Dick Valentine, of Electric Six fame. Don't ask me how, don't ask me why, but the cover of Def Leppard's "Hysteria" that this misfit band cooked up was fantastic. Driving home I asked myself if all that actually happened, and smiled when I could answer myself that yes, indeed it did. It was the only appropriate way to end the night, really.
The Dandy Warhols + Hopewell = guaranteed good goddam time. End of story.
mp3: Calcutta (Hopewell from Birds Of Appetite)
mp3: Genius (The Dandy Warhols from ...Rule OK)
After a wee intermission (and speaking of intermissions, hey y'all! Hope you missed me, cuz I sure did miss your pretty faces), it was time for my second BiMA event of the night. Being as I was a little out of festival practice, this felt like a massive, yet awesome, undertaking. By this point in the evening I was serving as keeper of the spectacles for a friend, and I'd like to offer a word of warning, darlings: Don't attempt taking notes whilst wearing prescription specs that are not, in fact, prescribed for you. It makes deciphering them, well, interesting to say the least!MINI RECAP: A whole lotta shakin goin' on! Overall Score: B+The first band of round two to light my fire was Churchkey's Free Electric State, one of those daggum Research Triangle bands that you'll find being awesome just about wherever you look. Seriously. Those North Carolina bands are everywhere, and it's probably got something to do with how great they tend to be. FES was loud, loud, loud, and lordy me I love some loud. A little hint of distortion tends to go a long way when it comes to winning my affections. I liked this band a whole lot, with the hints of shoegazery that permeated into their big ole sound. They sounded dark and a little dangerous, and what gal doesn't like a little danger? Their energy was off the charts, and their intensity matched their musical radness note for note. As impressed as I was by FES, I was possibly even more smitten with The Moaners. They were, for lack of a better term, badass. They even broke a string, and it really doesn't get much more badass than onstage string breaking. Ok, it does, but work with me. They made some ridiculously filthy, nasty, raunchy rock and roll, which is right up my alley. The rawness they conveyed was off the charts. I was reminded a little of first album Von Bondies, but this band took that Detroit dirtiness and made it sizzle even more, if possible. They were seriously, absolutely, majorly worth the drive up to Baltimore all by their lonesome, and I'm thrilled to have been able to see them.Up next, new LET pets Hammer No More The Fingers, yet another one of those damned North Carolina bands. I actually wrote in my notes "Stop. Hammer Time", and I just had to share my scribble with you just because (boys, need a new tee idea?). Duncan got himself a haircut and looked eerily like Graham Coxon, so I was preoccupied by that for a while. They once again pulled heavily from their new, unreleased material (coming soon, I've been told). And once again, their big, bad, 90s college radio sound won me over. There's something so cheeky and fun about this band, I just can't help but like them to bits and pieces. They're violently enjoyable, with that kicky racket they make.All in all, those three bands were all damned, damned fine. And I have to tip my hat to David Andler for his hard work getting BiMA up and running. I was nothing but impressed with my festival experience (well, except for the parking), and I really hope the festival will continue to grow and get even more wonderful year after year. mp3: Mushrooms (Hammer No More The Fingers from Looking For Bruce)
Y’all. I’ve gotta tell you, I’ve been in festival withdrawal something terrible over the past year and a half. But just when I was totally down in the festival-lacking dumps, up pops this great, great new festival, the Baltimore Independent Music & Arts Festival, better known (and heretofore known) as BiMA. Not only did BiMA manage to rope in over 100 artists from far and wide (i.e. Baltimore and beyond) to take part in the festivities, but it was localish (i.e. a mere 60-some miles), which was one of the best things about it. For a fledgling festival, it was pretty darned entertaining. My first taste of BiMA was the Birdnote Records showcase, and it was a rather fine time.
MINI RECAP: Well done, everyone! Overall score: B.
After circling around for what seemed like ages trying to park, I arrived at the Wind-Up Space just as DC’s own Bellflur was getting underway. Now, despite having wanted to see them live for quite some time now, it was a feat I hadn’t accomplished until BiMA. The venue appealed to me right away, as did the band. I definitely haven’t heard anything (at least, not that I can think of at the moment) come out of DC before, their sound being a very interesting mix of gentle rhythms with some subtle grooves and synthy goodness. In my notes I compared them sonically to a much, much less gloomy and non-Scottish Arab Strap. They used sound bytes in several songs, adding to the cinematic feel of the music. It was rather atmospheric and a touch dramatic, and I was pretty impressed with the boys of Bellflur. Their set was way too short for my liking, which I suppose just means I’ll have to work hard to make another Bellflur sighting happen. They were definitely my favorite band of this particular showcase.
Next up was Solar Temple Suicides. Their name made me think of a 60s stoner band, and their sound tended to trend that way. It’s perhaps what might happen had The Young Sinclairs been more into Phish than The Rolling Stones, in that their sound was very loud and very swirly and very expansive, with more straight-up noise than song structure. I preferred them sans vocals, but found their set to be rather entertaining. Stoner drone seems to be their forte, and the sound of the Wind-Up Space enhanced their vibe.
Milwaukeeans Brief Candles were the third band of the showcase, and I was curious to see what their sound would be like after the two vastly different preceding bands. They turned out to be a little dark and sinister, which I loved. They concocted a big ole wall of sound through the guitar and the bass, which made me quite happy. My only question about their set was the vocals. When Jen Boniger was doing vocal duty, I couldn’t ever quite tell how I felt about her voice, and preferred when guitarist Kevin Dixon took over. Their overall sound was pretty good, though, and I’m glad to have seen them, my reservations about vocals notwithstanding.
I paid a little more attention to the hot pink narwhal on the wall than I did to Baltimore’s Avec, which is probably not their fault. I just became fixated. However, the band was almost as awesome as that narwhal. They were super loud, and their boy-girl vocals worked really well off each other. They all had serious stage presence, which goes a long way in winning me over, and their sound was polished.
By the time Thrushes played I was well and truly distracted by the narwhal and friends that had rolled into town. But on the whole, I must say the showcase was fantastic. It got my BiMA experience off on the right foot, and proved that a newbie festival doesn’t have to suck while going through inevitable growing pains.
mp3: Insect Politics (Bellflur from asleep.asleep)
So, it just so happens that we two sometimes (often) get so busy covering all the fun stuff in our neck of the woods that we sometimes (often) forget about our fabulous neighbors to the north. No, not Canada. I'm talkin' 'bout Charm City, baby, otherwise known as Baltimore.
There's a whole lot of righteous stuff going on up in Balto these days, which we DC folks can shamefully tend to forget, not least of which is the 2010, brand spankin' new edition of the Baltimore Independent Music & Arts Festival (aka BiMA). I'm super psyched because I've been in festival withdrawl this year, and the convenience of it all makes me feel very spoiled indeed. Not only will BiMA be celebrating some of the best that Baltimore has to offer in terms of music and other arty happenings, but they've pulled in some excellent out-of-towners to boot (for example, I'll be hitting the Churchkey Records showcase for damn sure). Check out the schedule here (and remember kids, as life is forever changing, so too could the schedule), and don't make any plans for next weekend (that'll be August 26th-28th, to be exact). Expect, of course, a detailed commentary by yours truly, since I'll be to-ing and fro-ing all weekend long.
Be there or be square, y'all!
mp3: Streets of Baltimore (Gram Parsons from GP)
Fletcher’s is dead. Long live The Get Down!
For those of you locals that remember, Fletcher’s in Baltimore was once a wonderful, grimy and gritty little dive where one could see any number of really, really loud bands play in one of those super small places that years later one could brag about when said band garnered themselves some fanfare. After many a golden year, regime change brought about unfortunate circumstances, and Fletcher’s was forced to close those hallowed doors for good. Until now.
A magic wand has been waved, and in place of that scuzzball of a beloved dive now sits a club you’d never imagine could exist in Baltimore. The Get Down is a den of gleaming, super shiny sleekness, utterly gorgeous and glamorous and the total opposite of what existed within those walls for years. The crowd at the club’s preview party seemed dazed by the gorgeous interiors, the abundance of super fancy lighting (seriously, find me another club within 100 miles that looks like this), and the overall VIP treatment by an awesome staff. The Get Down is the place to go to get your indulgence on. Hang out in the VIP balcony, lounging on one of those uber modern (and uber comfy) couches, sipping a cocktail while watching the DJ spin and the wall of lights undulate endlessly. Or grab a fancy booth on the ground floor, and watch the floor fill up with sassy dancers. The invited company was a great mix of clubgoers dressed to the 9s, neighborhood folks, and card carrying Baltimore hipsters, a conglomeration that promises widespread success for the club. For me, the reasons to drive up to Baltimore are few and far between, but with the birth of The Get Down, I might just be making a few more drives up 95.
Any and all traces of Fletcher’s have been surgically and thoroughly removed. Baltimore might have lost a concert space, but they gained one hell of a place to have a party. Fletcher’s is dead and buried, friends. Hold on to those memories. But get yourself good and ready to make some new memories at The Get Down. Get a head start on the good times with the added bonus of some Hot Chip. Yay! mp3: Over & Over (Hot Chip from The Warning)[Photo by Megan Petty]
As some of you already know, it was my birthday last week. And naturally, it’s a big enough birthday that I deemed it only right to go to as many shows as possible during birthday week to properly celebrate another year on this lovely planet of ours. So when my bestest friend Laura invited me up to her neck of the woods (AKA Baltimore) for the Neon Indian and Wild Nothing show, I decided an evening of ridiculously bitchin’ dancefloor action was just what the kickoff to birthday week should be.
MINI RECAP: Neon Indian = Neonically Neato! Wild Nothing = Synthily Sassy! Overall score: B+.
One thing I hadn’t realized before this show (shame on me) is the fact that Wild Nothing hails from my very own Commonwealth of Virginia. Another excellent band doin’ the state proud, it sure does warm the cockles of my little heart. Also warming the cockles of my little heart was Wild Nothing’s sound, which could have been coming out of early 1980s Britain. Heavy in slinky synths and kicky little riffs, the band had a consistently good dance beat and a little attitude. At times I heard varying shades of A Flock of Seagulls (minus the ridiculous haircuts, of course), Psychedelic Furs, and New Order. The packed house and I really kinda dug on this band. Their songs were sweet, yet glamorous at the same time, making for a really charming vibe. And who doesn’t love a synthed-up Fleetwood Mac cover? I’m so very pleased to have seen them do their first Baltimore show.
Neon Indian was also in Baltimore for the very first time. They got the party started right away, with their sensational little beats and buoyant stage presence. Visual stimulation was provided in the guise of garishly neon patterns projected on screens on the sides of the stage, giving an apt visual representation of the band’s music. The kids were definitely down with Neon Indian, and at times the dancefloor was heaving with motion, as the crowd worked up a sweat to the endless beats. The Neon Indian sound is a danceable dream, and it’s just such happy music (musically speaking, that is, not necessarily lyrically!). I’d liken it to super rad, candy-coated rave pop, totally perfect for inciting crazy dance moves, and though there was some fluorescent jewelry the kids thankfully left the pacifiers at home. I was a little perplexed by the dude walking around with duct tape all over his head, but to each their own I suppose. The “really enthusiastic” crowd got the band back for an encore, which just meant more dancing and more sweating.
It was a divine evening, my dears, and a perfect way to kick off birthday week. These two bands were tailor made to tour together. Somewhat fittingly, I suppose, a darling young thing sidled up to me during Wild Nothing’s set to attempt to sweet-talk me into buying him ciggies, which I gently refused (we don’t encourage underage naughtiness here, after all).
mp3: Terminally Chill (Neon Indian from Psychic Chasms)
I must confess, y'all, I sometimes don't pay Baltimore all that much attention when it comes to shows. Yes, it's only an hour or so away, and yes they have some fine venues up there...but sometimes it just slips my mind. What can I say. Obviously, I'll have to change my evil ways, cuz I almost missed the boat on one heck of a show. If it hadn't been for my partner in crime, the lovely Laura, I would have remained painfully unaware of the amazingness Baltimore had in store at the Ottobar, featuring the one and only Delta Spirit and the one and only (and LET faves!) Darker My Love. To say shame on me just doesn't quite resonate loudly enough. But it all worked out in the end. I came, I saw, I sonically swooned.
