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Upon seeing this here show, I’ve come to a conclusion, my sweetest of sweet loves. We could each and every one of us benefit from more Women in our lives. No, not women women. I mean Women, the Canadian ensemble full of much supreme awesomeness and an excess of sonic splendifery. Though, come to think of it some of you could probably use more women, too, but that’s neither here nor there. So let’s consider #75 here as the one in which two bands of northerly neighbors come to DC and lay down some seriously bitchin, spectacular noise. Mama like.
MINI RECAP: DD/MM/YYYY = Dashingly Thunderous! Women = More Than Women To Me! Overall score: A
I’d been curious about DD/MM/YYYY (aka Day Month Year, just so you know) for a little while now, and was exceedingly pleased with the live stylings of their befuddling, bulky sound. Wishing us all a Happy Columbus Day, they thrashed through a set full of goodies. I’d call it a mish mash of the bratty spittle snarl of Black Eyes (RIP), the dark synthy rhythms of Underworld, and the general jarring, angular dissonance of what the kids might call art punk. Whatever the ingredients, the finished product was a fine little nasty wallop, and I kinda sorta really liked it. In fact, this (and really, this applies to Women, too) was probably what Heather Chandler had in mind when she uttered the immortal words, “fuck me gently with a chainsaw.” Between the deafening waves of blistering attitude and the drummer with a major case of the spazz, I was totally enamored.
The glorious insanity didn’t stop there, my friends. Oh no. For up next was the band I had been wanting to see since, well, the last time I saw them. Which, quite frankly, was far too long ago. Women, o Women. How much I love thee. “We’re gonna play songs now,” they stated, and play songs they damn well did. It was just what I had hoped it would be, the giant wall of noise tempered with the hint of melody here and there. The stark leanness of the older songs was balanced by the more structured, dare I say almost psych-influenced songs to be found on their new record. With the stridence came the loveliness, and it came as quite a pleasant surprise to hear this evolution. At times I felt as if my head might explode with the dazzling wonder of it all. Hearing my favorite of favorite Women songs, “Black Rice,” was the sweetest of cherries. The slightly sped-up, but no less killer, song is so rad to hear live that that one song pretty much made my night. These guys are straight up artists of the aural assault, turning the onslaught of noise into something almost beautiful. Having seen them a second time, I can confirm that Women is getting better. And that is almost scary.
So guess what I’m gonna tell you kids? Go see these two bands live. Seriously. It’s for your own good.
mp3: Narrow With The Hall (Women from Public Strain)
Moustaches might be all the rage right now, friends, but some folks choose to keep it old school and stick with beards and shadow. And I'm an old-fashioned gal at heart, and I loves me some beards and shadow. The Acorn, some of my new favorite neighbors to the North, fancies it old school, too. Which, in truth, is but one reason to love them. Having seen them live, finally, I can assure you there's plenty more to become smitten with. Beardage is just the tip of the iceberg.
MINI RECAP: The Acorn = Totally Astonishing! Overall Score: B++
Ambling onto a stage that felt more like a lakeside living room than a DC stage, thanks to some lamps and actual cabin walls imported from Canada for the tour, The Acorn demonstrated that a band can actually look like they sound. That being rustic and lovely and just a bit woodsy (hey, there was some plaid present, after all, not to mention all that rugged facial hair). Their sound took me to the land of big skies and piney woods and crystal lakes, at times ever-so dreamy and lulling and always, always beautiful.
"Crooked Legs" was possibly the highlight of the night for me, the breathtaking delicacy eliciting scenes of firefly-lit nights serenaded by nocturnal animals and lit by starlight. While it might seem impossible, the live version of this, and probably every song they played, was even lovelier than the recorded version. Something about this band, friends, something about them is just bewitching. But of course, it wasn't all arch perfection. No, no. These Canucks know how to get a little raunchy, launching into "the sex vibes" with a song "about our collective genitalia." I was pleased to note the band can also bring a little rock, too, proving more than idyllically one-track ponies. And nothing earns points with a DC blogger like favorably comparing and contrasting DC crowds with Philly crowds.
But to me, The Acorn is at their best when carefully and delicately creating bucolic gems full of pretty, pretty sounds. The result is all sorts of glorious goodness. And really, this is a band that should be experienced often and regularly. You can interpret that however you want, you dirty bastards.
mp3: Crooked Legs (The Acorn from Glory Hope Mountain)
Man alive, we Terribles sure have been hitting a lot of shows together lately. I assure you, friends, this doesn't usually happen, and I have rather enjoyed this spate of quality time with my dear better blogging half. On yet another of our evenings together, we found ourselves being Terrible at DC9 (well, before I had to split to head to another show!). I did, however, manage to enjoy quite a delightful set by Dreamend, otherwise known as the brainchild of Ryan from Graveface (and Black Moth Super Rainbow). I'd heard scant little of Dreamend before this show (and managed to miss Ryan when he blew threw town months back with The Appleseed Cast), but hot damn if I wasn't totally swept off my feet! The songs might not sound as they do on record, but being a Gemini I appreciate a little of the musical schizophrenia. And when it sounds this good, well, who cares if the vibe is totally different. I sure don't.
MINI RECAP: Dreamend = Sassily Schizo! Overall Score: B+
My enjoyment began pretty much right after the dynamic duo (much like myself and Chris, obviously) stepped onto the stage. I immediately fell in smit with the live incarnation of Dreamend, all gorgeously ethereal ramblings with guitar and drums. I got a kind of Mogwai vibe, when the noisy Scots tread more delicately and not so destructively (think "New Paths to Helicon 1" etc.). And just as with Mogwai, the boys of Dreamend can get pretty dang aggro in a snap. But how cute was that little cartoon of those be-toga'd Romans (or Greeks, it's all in the interpretation)? Ryan was almost hiding behind his oversized hoodie and some equipment, letting the fuzz (and sometimes his lovely voice) let his presence be known. Pavement also sprang to my mind on certain songs, and when you remind a gal of Pavement and Mogwai in one set, well, you're doing mighty fine. Even more amazing were the shades of my beloved, dearly departed Brits Six By Seven (if you don't know of them, well, check out the brilliant song "European Me", because I heard a lot of it sprinkled hither and thither in this set). It only took about two songs to make me verily distressed to have missed the set back in April. But better late than never, so the saying goes.
A lot of two-person bands tend to throw their hats into the garage ring, but Dreamend waves the flag for fuzzodistortonoisiness, and I find that incredibly fantastic. The band also racked up major points for penning one of my favorite lyrics of the year, with the assertion, "I know just who you think you are". Classic. Dreamend was solid from start to finish, creating a glorious, enchanting dreamscape only to have it grounded by Ryan's perfectly imperfect voice and a swell of gigantic waves of sound. Totally, utterly bitchin.
I wasn't quite sure what to expect from the set, but lo and behold, Dreamend sunk my battleship. If you get the chance, go check 'em out for damn sure. Don't sleep on this band, or you might just be sorry.
mp3: Magnesium Light (Dreamend from So I Ate Myself, Bite By Bite)
It’s rather amusing that of all the t-shirts in my closet, the Pela shirt is the one I ended up wearing today. You see, friends, this here #55 show involves ¼ of Pela, pets emeritus of LET. After the band’s demise, guitarist Nate Martinez (otherwise known as one of my most favorite people around) couldn’t shake the itch, and continued work on stuff he’d had floating around in his head. The result was an album’s worth of awesome, also known as This Midnight Hum (which you should definitely buy). And to properly welcome the record into the world, Nate and his conglomeration of rad cohorts got themselves down to DC for their first ever live show. And what a show it was. Thieving Irons has definitely adapted the Pela tradition of great music, great live performances, and just being plain ole great.
MINI RECAP: Thieving Irons = First-time Charmers! Overall score: A.
Lee Hazelwood was soundtracking the soundcheck, so I knew that obviously good things were to come. It didn’t take long to prove me right. Starting with “Ashes On The Riverbank”, which reminded me how much I’d missed Nate’s deft guitar playing and ever-so likeable stage presence. I didn’t expect the comparison that began to form in my mind during this first song, but Nate’s voice kinda sorta reminded me of The Boss, minus the Jersey and a lot of the gravel. But the earnestness, the emotion, that’s the crux. So Boss Junior he shall be. The songs, with their scope and composition, dove into E Street Band territory here and there. It all felt rather special, I must say.
“I Can Hear a Pin Drop” was next, another fine musical display that really showed off Nate’s songwriting chops (a particular favorite: “I am a coward in my own skin”). The goodness lasted for the entire set, the songs given added weight and depth by the multi-awesome Mike Brown, who took turns on banjo, guitar, lap steel, and the occasional note on the keys. The ethereal shimmer of the steel, for instance, added even more of a dream-like quality to the sensational “Wave’s Gonna Break”. Nate’s voice proved endearingly vulnerable during several songs, but this one in particular. “On The Horizon” featured one of my favorite lines by just about anyone in “It’s too cold to shiver,” and it was during this song that I noted that this could very well be on of those shows I gloat about having been present at years from now.
“Pale Blue Dots” for some reason conjured up Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game”, though less obviously hormonal. To me, it was the sound of sultry nights, fire escapes, and hazy rings surrounding a muggy moon. It was during “Babylon Is Burning” that I realized my foot hadn’t stopped tapping all night, and that was the set’s tenth song. And it should be noted that while a shout-out from the stage doesn’t automatically guarantee a good review, it sure doesn’t hurt. “These Shaking Walls” and “Tow The Line” finished up the show, and both were splendid.
It’s a good thing I didn’t envision doing anything other than totally loving the Thieving Irons live experience. I hereby decree that Thieving Irons should be recommended listening as a part of your musical diet, and that seeing this band live will do wonders for your soul. Come on in, y’all, the bandwagon’s fine. Pull up a seat right here next to me.
mp3: Ashes On The Riverbank (Thieving Irons from This Midnight Hum)
It’s a blue moon rare kinda thing when you get both of us Terribles in one room at one time, my little darlings. Given our mad crazy constantly conflicting schedules it had been many a month since we got together, and as you probably already noticed, Chris and I joined forces for what I’d call easily one of the best shows of the year. Put together an emerging band from the Big Apple and a supergroup of sorts and you’ve got a recipe for one heck of a night. And that’s exactly what it was.
MINI RECAP: Admiral Radley = California Love! Hooray For Earth = NYC Love! Overall score: A.
Hooray For Earth was up first. I was so very happy to see them, because I had managed to miss the vast majority of their set a couple months back. They sounded totally different than what I remembered, and I could have sworn they lost a few band members in the interlude between the last show and this one. And if that’s the case, it was a change for the better. Or it could just be my horrible memory. Either way, I was totally impressed with HFE, their live set more torn and frayed than they are on record, a little bit Pavement and a little bit shoegaze and a little bit dreampop (or, as I wrote in my notes, think of it like that kinda spacey vibe of Steve Miller meets synth meets the Jesus & Mary Chain). Their songs proved rather punchy and rather enjoyable, and I just can’t resist a band that successfully juxtaposes totally chaotic guitar distortion and bouncy, bubbly basslines. Apart from the vocals being a little muddy, their set was totally great. And I can’t not give a shoutout to the drummer for drumming with one hand and banging the tambourine with the other. Now that, friends, is skill. Definitely watch this space, because I really dig me some Hooray For Earth.
Up next was the awesome of Admiral Radley. And let me just go ahead and get my bad pun out of the way, but you really can’t spell Radley without rad. Think of it, won’t you? You take two members of the fantastic Earlimart and fuse them to two members of the equally fantastic Grandaddy. It’s a surefire formula for success if ever there was one. I loved them immediately, their sound pulling from both bands but not as such that it seemed like a crutch. The guitar play reminded me of the Grandaddy record The Sophtware Slump a whole lot, and the sound was very bouncy and atmospheric. The projections flanking the band on either side of natural and cosmic elements totally fit their overall vibe. “How come you’re so far away back there and I’m up here like Bono,” a cheeky Aaron Espinoza asked Jason Lyttle, causing ripples of giggles throughout the crowd. Their banter was even great. At one point Espinoza adapted the lyrics to fit his frame of mind, singing, “I forgot the words/but it doesn’t matter now/cuz I’m all fucked up on beer/I’m fucked up on beer”. It was, hands down, the best drunk lyric forgettal recovery ever. They might heart California, but I heart me some Admiral Radley.
And that was all she wrote. It was a doozy of a dandy show, and not even the late start or late finish could put a damper on the displays of musical prowess. If you’re not already smitten with both of these bands, I suggest you give it some serious consideration.
mp3: Surrounded By Your Friends (Hooray For Earth from Momo)
What better way to recover after two utterly insane nights with The Brian Jonestown Massacre than with a trio of monumentally loud, breathtakingly noisy bands? There’s no other way, there’s no other way. All I could do was watch them play, and man alive it was one heck of a show. The newly-revamped DC9 floorplan took a backseat to all the sonic mayhem on the stage, and it was painfully spectacular.
MINI RECAP: This Will Destroy You = Beautifully Loudest! Light Pollution = Beautifully Louder! Slow Six = Beautifully Loud! Overall score: B+.
Up first was Brooklyn’s Slow Six. They emitted a very dreamy, very layered sound, reminiscent of England’s Yndi Halda. I definitely dug their dual-threat violin angle, probably the first time I’ve come across that in a non-orchestral setting. “Cloud Cover” was noise on a grand scale, with a misty swirl of an intro and miles and miles of glorious drone. Something dark simmers under the surface of this band, a little bit threatening and very much appealing. All the looping and swirling gave their music an ethereal quality, as it traversed all sorts of interesting places. I heard someone say “ambience” at one point in the set, and they weren’t just whistlin’ Dixie. Slow Six does indeed knock out some very ambient noise. Both welcoming and off-putting, at times the band was rather disquieting. All in all, Slow Six really impressed me. If you’re in the market for some eerie, hauntingly lovely and really loud music, you might wanna check these folks out.
Occupying the bill’s sandwich spot was Chicago’s Light Pollution, a band I’ve seen recently and was totally excited to see once more. Once again, they were totally fantastic, even from the few notes of “Cinnamon Girl” someone snuck in during their soundcheck. Their delightful mix of pop, indie rock, and knob-twiddling just makes me so very happy. They opened with a very bouncy, perky version of “All Night Outside”, which was absolutely adorable. They really started to hit their stride with “Bad Vibes”, with the swelling buzz of the keys and a feeling of being sonically all over the place yet totally in command. The awesome drum explosion in the middle of the song was incredible. “This song’s call ‘Good Feelings’. It’s about feeling good,” was our intro to the most excellent “Good Feelings”. The bass was deep and rich, and the band continued to hit all the right notes. They were totally on point, and my only complaint about the set was that it was too short! I wanted more, dangit.
As if the first two bands weren’t good enough, on came This Will Destroy You, the Texans with a penchant for seriously amazing noise. I was in the mood for inordinately, ungodly loud music, and TWDY didn’t disappoint. In a way, their music lives up to their name, because it can pretty much liquefy your brain. The music of This Will Destroy You makes me think of an inky black, cloud-heavy night where you can’t see a star through all the weight of the clouds, except on the occasion of the moon poking through for just a brief instance. It’s a little chilling, a little heavy, and exceedingly beautiful. They play lovely, delicate parts against crunchy, super loud bits and it creates a brilliantly gigantic wall of sound. The merciless pounding of the drums was incredible, and the songs were so delightfully dark. It’s a full frontal aural assault, melodic and lovely and crushing all at once. The band seemed almost methodical, working carefully to make sure every note was precise and perfect. At one point I saw a few dudes trying to block their ears with their hands against the onslaught of magnificent noise, but I can’t imagine it worked very well. Even with my earplugs in I could feel the noise seeping into my skull. Their set was so very good, it was have mercy on me good. This is a band that could soundtrack both oblivion and salvation. They’d make a great tour pairing with Mono, and I’d be at that show in a heartbeat.
In conclusion, I can but urge you to go see each of these three bands whenever you get the chance. Just make sure you bring your earplugs.
mp3: Cloud Cover (part 1) (Slow Six from Tomorrow Becomes You)
