On Friday July 30th, SPIRITUALIZED played their classic album Ladies and Gentleman We Are Floating in Space in it’s entirety at the legendary Radio City Music Hall in New York City.  I wasn’t there.  By the next morning, I had finally accepted that fact and reluctantly headed off to the much less exciting activity of pouring high grade espresso drinks for the people.  I had imagined that, through one ridiculous miracle or another, I would make it out to New York City in time, but the world often has its own mangled vision for your life.  How does that joke go, again?  “How do you make God laugh?  Make a Plan.“  As fate would have it, I wound up meeting someone who lives in the Big Apple that day and getting the opportunity to catch a performance by a band that I’d been meaning to check out for quite some time.

It was Saturday and I was in Seattle, pulling shots from a 3 group Synesso.  I meet a lot of customers who have recently relocated or are simply visiting from out of state, especially since Summer hit.  This is why I wasn’t surprised when a man with a plaid shirt and burly mustache told me that he’d been a barista for 6years in New York, while he asked some questions about the coffee and the machine.  After inquiring about if he’d just moved here, I learned that he was just visiting shortly.  From there it was slowly unveiled that he was playing a show that night and that it was going to be held at The Crocodile.  This man’s name was Jesse and he is the guitarist for a Brooklyn outfit known as PHOSPHORESCENT.  He seemed interested to hear that I’ve had a good deal of communication with their publicist from DEAD OCEANS.  I knew about PHOSHPHORESCENT but, admittedly, not as much as I should have.  I always seemed to receive press releases or information about them with an already full plate.  They had been towards the top of my list of projects to look deeper into for quite some time, but a good part of me knew that I would encounter them eventually through a more organic process.  As Jesse put it, “What we [were] experiencing is the benefit of face to face communication.“  A line had formed, so he wrote down my name and phone number, with an offer to put me on the guest list and to text me with a confirmation.

The name “PHOSPHORESCENT” originated simply as the moniker for a solo recording project by frontman Matthew Houck.  However, after almost 3 years of touring with the current lineup, PHOSPHORESCENT now refers to the collective band as much as anything.  For the 2007 album, Pride, Houck notably manned all of the instruments himself.  By the time that the Willie Nelson tribute album, To Willie was released at the beginning of last year, both the pronouns “he” and “they” became equally interchangeable, in reference to the PHOSPHORESCENT name.  The release was inspired by Nelson‘s own 1977 tribute to songwriter Lefty Frizell, To Lefty From Willie.  Their intention to mirror Nelson‘s original concept is further demonstrated through To Willie‘s similar cover art and by PHOSPHORESCENT adopting the approach of infusing their own distinct sound into the songs that they were covering.  The homage resulted in a personal invitation for the group to perform on Willie‘s XM radio channel as part of his 76th birthday celebration and later as part of Farm Aid 2009.  Their latest release, Here’s to Taking it Easy, not only features the first original material for Hoeck since PRIDE, but it also strongly represents the solid group effort that is behind it.

Besides the show that the full band had set for The Crocodile that night, there was also an in-store performance scheduled for PHOSPHORESCENT the man, that afternoon.  Shortly after our encounter, I took my lunch break and passed Jesse, who was standing outside of the record store where the in-store was scheduled to take place.  I went next store to put in an order at a sandwich shop and then went over to speak with him as I waited.  He told me that he made a call and that my name should be on the guest list without any issue.  Jesse had a bandana hanging out of his back pocket, so I told him about how my friend Cindy Wonderful (Scream Club) once explained to me about the gay “flagging code“.  I told him to be careful, because he might be sending out the message that he likes to have men shit on his chest.  He responded by letting me know that it just meant that he was “in a dangerous gang.”  I walked back into the sandwich joint just in time to hear them call out my name, but when I grabbed my food, I heard a frustrated grumble from a woman behind me.  She was sitting with a man at a table and when I approached her she asked, “You’re Chris, too?“  To which I responded, “Looks like I’m ‘Chris One’, because I’m the one with the sandwich.“  They didn’t seem amused and the man looked away from me irritatedly.  Later that night, I realized that the guy was PHOSPHORESCENT drummer, Chris Marine.

We did get into the show that night, without any issues from the will call.  The opener was J. Tillman (aka: Josh Tillman/aka: the drummer for Fleet Foxes).  Tillman is a fairly prolific local artist, releasing half a dozen full-length albums since 2005, not to mention a couple of EPs and the work that he has produced as a member of Fleet Foxes.  With all of his accomplishments, this would be only the first time that I had ever seen him perform; save the time he sat in as an additional percussionist at last year’s Dungen show.

The songwriter sat at the front of the stage with an acoustic guitar, offering little, if any, communication with the audience beyond his music.  He wore a red plaid shirt and with his beard and long, loosely pulled-back hair, he resembled an alt.folk version of Rob Zombie.  The stage was only gently lit and the stark sound of Tillman‘s guitar merged effortlessly with the deep tone of his voice.  There was an intimate feeling to the set, which reminded me of a time when “singer/songwriter” didn’t hold such a negative connotation.  Tillman‘s music represents a directness and honesty representative of the term, before the likes of Jason Mraz, VH1, and douchebag’s using guitars to mack on chicks at campfires and frat parties got a hold of it.  Those towards the bar in back end of the room continued to talk over the set but, although their chatter could become distracting between songs, Tillman never paused or allowed it to veer him off of his course.  Josh set a great mood for PHOSPHORESCENT‘s heartfelt music, so it is no surprise that he was asked to support them on multiple dates of the tour.  While both acts retain an incredibly earnest quality with their live sets, Tillman provides much less acknowledgment to the fact that there is even an audience watching him.  Instead, it felt as if those of us in the crowd had stumbled into J. Tillman‘s bedroom or personal practice space more than it felt like an organized event at a legitimate concert venue.  I wish that I was familiar enough with his work to identify some of the  tracks by name, but I’m not.  My guess is that at least a few of them were offerings from his upcoming Sept. 14 release Singing Ax ( co-produced by Steve Albini).

The energy was great when PHOSPHORESCENT stepped out through the backstage curtain.  The members all seemed a little buzzed, but with a relaxed enthusiasm; not bumbling incoherence.  From the very beginning they exuded a sense of genuine appreciation just for the opportunity to perform.  Hoeck engaged the audience immediately and started the set off by making the announcement, “This is the first song from the last album.“  The full ensemble is 6 members deep and they were arranged in a manner to fill every corner of the stage.  The drumkit in the back was flanked by Scott Stapleton at the keys and Ricky Ray Jackson‘s pedal steel at opposing sides of the stage.  The three of them formed a makeshift pen, corralling Jesse, Houck, and Jeffrey Bailey (bass) in as they meandered around in their designated areas.  After playing “It’s Hard to be Humble (when you’re from Alabama)” Houck announced that they would now be playing “the second song” from Here’s to Taking it Easy and the group proceeded into “Nothing Was Stolen (Love Me Foolishly)”.

The entire performance felt both casual and genuine.  There was a drunk, middle-aged broad in the crowd who would randomly scream out moderately obnoxious and/or erotic comments towards the stage.  Before the next song she caught Houck off guard by yelling out that they would be playing “the third song” from their recent release.  The front man just laughed to himself and then confirmed it, “This is the third song from the last album“.  The women yelled out a slurred, “I like your style!” to which Houck responded, “I like YOUR style.“  That informality is part of PHOSPHORESCENT‘s live appeal.  It sounds corny as fuck, but Matthew Houck really does sing like he’s slicing himself up the belly and dumping his guts out on the stage.  Whether it’s a perfectly designed sham or not, he still puts on a believably moving performance.  His delivery comes with the wavering  crackles of what can only be emotionally identified as an “honest” sound to his voice.  The band is solid and practiced enough that the front man is able to release his hands from his acoustic, and lay back, floating his vocals over a tightly knit blanket of sound.  Everyone had the chance to demonstrate their value to the collective, whether it came from a calculated opening made for the air-bending manipulation of Jackson‘s pedal steel or from Stapleton instinctually forging his own opportunities to maniacally pulverize the shit out of his keyboard.  If you are already a fan of PHOSPHORESCENT‘s music, you’d be doing your self a disservice by not checking the group out live.  Any connection that you may feel to the recorded material will assuredly be amplified in the concert setting.  Some things just aren’t always as easy to communicate through the filter of a studio.  What we were experiencing was, “the benefit of face to face communication.”

PHOSPHORESCENT is definitely a performance based act with a sound that thrives best in such an intimate live environment.  They were very “present” throughout the show, unlike so many acts I’ve witnessed simply going through the motions.  All of the members seem to play equal parts for each other and equal parts for the audience.  They offered up plenty of new material, knocking down the first 4 songs from Here’s To Taking it Easy consecutively, while mixing in PRIDE-era tracks like “Wolves” and pulling from Willie Nelson tributes like “It’s Not Supposed to be that Way“.  To start off the encore, Houck came out and performed a couple of songs by his lonesome.  One of these tracks was his cover of “Can I Sleep in Your Arms” from the To Willie album.  Although the song appeared on The Red Headed Stranger, it was penned by the recently deceased Hall of Fame songwriter, Hank Cochran (August 2, 1935 – July 15, 2010).  Before playing the song, Houck acknowledged Cochran for his incredible talents and humbly made a “confession” that, through his rendition, he would undoubtedly not be able to do the song justice.  The night ended with the rest of the band returning to accompany him for the last couple of songs.

After the show, Jesse came out into the crowd and he gave me a hug.  I had only just met the guy that afternoon, but he was ridiculously considerate.  Although he had gone out of his way and set everything up for us, he still told me that he felt bad for not texting me to confirm that I knew if we were on the list and that he was afraid that we might not be able to make it.  It’s not like he didn’t have enough shit to deal with, being three weeks deep into a six week tour and having a show to play.  That alone would be enough of a reason for me to want to support his band and, in a way, it actually bleeds over to what I feel their real appeal is as an act.  Everything comes across with an incredible authenticity and appreciation.  It’s clear that the members of PHOSPHORESCENT make music because they love it, but they are also creating with a focused intention of sharing it with others.

Check out this live footage from the show:

“We’ll Be There Soon”

(the 3rd song from the last album)

Click here to view the embedded video.

“It’s Not Supposed To Be That Way”

Click here to view the embedded video.

PHOSPHORESCENT is currently on tour in Europe but can be caught at…

The Treasure Island Music Festival in San Francisco on OCT. 17th
and
CITY ARTS FEST in Seattle on OCT. 21st

Last year Will Oldham released Beware [Drag City], the 7th full-length under his Bonnie “Prince” Billy moniker, and set out on a tour in support of it.  Although the album featured Jennifer Hutt, fellow violinist/vocalst, Cheyenne Marie Mize filled her position for the live tour.  Mize also appeared on the four song accompanying EP, Chijimi and, beyond being a very capable violinist, her voice harmonizes beautifully with Oldham‘s, as she was featured prominently in the live performances.  She is also a member of  an old-timey pseudo-bluegrass situation known as Arnett Hollow, as well as working with The Picket Line, a band that Bonnie “Prince” Billy recorded/released his lesser publicized collaborative work Funtown Comedown with at the end of 2009.  Cheyenne is really beginning to come into her own as an independent artist and, later this fall, her first solo album is slated to be released.  For the meantime, another joint effort between Mize and Oldham, titled Among the Gold, is being offered to tide you over.  This time, the collaboration comes in the form of the pair covering 19th century parlor music as a duet and it’s being offered ABSOLUTELY FREE.  It’s only a 6 song effort but it’s a beautiful album and, if it’s any indication of what we can expect from her debut release, things look really promising.

Here’s what Cheyenne Marie Mize has to say about the backstory and fruition of Among the Gold:

“In the summer of 2008, there was a place called Funtown where about 300 lucky folks saw the first official coming-together of The Picket Line, Bonnie “Prince” Billy, and myself. In preparation for this little event, I met and began rehearsing with Will. After our first rehearsal together he asked me to join his touring band for the following Spring.“

“I had had the idea behind Among the Gold brewing for some time- originally thinking it was going to be me alone- to take some of my favorite very, very old tunes and record them. I offered the idea to Will, needing only a mic and a good room for recording, and he offered me a mic and a good room for recording. I asked him to sing a couple of the songs as duets as well. In the process we very much enjoyed singing together and we decided that they would all make great duets so it became more of a collaborative effort, with him helping me to decide on the rest of the tunes we would record, and helping me with instrumentation and arrangement decisions. And then it was.”

Among the Gold was originally given a vinyl release from Karate Body records back in May of last year and all of the songs covered on the album were written between the years of 1873 and 1915.  The link to the FREE DOWNLOAD is posted below the cover art, as well as MP3‘s of each track, for those of you can’t bare to part with your precious computer memory without the insurance that it will be worth the space.  The standout track for me is definitely “Silver Threads“, a song that I believe the two performed when I saw them at the Seattle performance.  Alright… that’s enough info… now, get to it!

LINK TO FREE DOWNLOAD

Track List

1. “Only A Dream” (1909 by Lincoln/Craff Jr.)

2. “Love’s Old Sweet Song” (1914 by Moloy/Bingham)

3. “Beautiful Dreamer” (1864 by Foster)

4. “Kiss Me Again” (1915 by Herbert/Blossom)

5. “Let Me Call You Sweetheart” (1910 by Friedman/Whitson)

6. “Silver Threads” (1873 by Danks/Rexfo)

To give you a little background on my fascination with Prine, we must travel back in time to Olympia, Washington and Crazy Leland’s Mormon Mansion on Biscay RD, about a mile away from The Evergreen State College.  I was getting pretty wasted in the kitchen and staring into a huge tropical fish tank that was built into the wall.  It was Bond movie type shit, except that it was financed with the trust fund money of a wingnut with an addiction to weed and comic books.  I must admit that the fish never looked so pretty (I believe that I was probably on mushrooms at the time).  Friend and fellow Monster Fresh contributor, MEMES had suggested that we go into his room to jam some records.  I figured that it sounded like a good idea, so I grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and moved on.  When we reached his room, the first thing that he asked me was if I wanted to smoke some glass.  I declined, both because I was already high and drunk and because, after growing up in the suburb of Kent, I was perfectly aware of what that shit can do to your teeth.   I’m pretty sure that  99 percent of people would have immediately left the room at that point.  In fact, I might have even been one of them, if it wasn’t for MEMES‘ next comment, which went something like this, “Hey bitch, you wanna hear my favorite Country music?”   I had to know what a glass-smoking hippie with a drum n’ bass obsession could possibly know about country, so I stayed.  He put on Prine‘s self-titled debut and the first song that he played was “Paradise“.  I thought to myself, “Wow!  This is a great song.”   Next I heard “Sam Stone“, a track that would both change the way that I view Country music and music in general.   It has honestly established a formula with which I would  judge lyrics by any artist from then on out, whether it be country, rock n roll, soul, blues, singer/songwriter etc.  If you have never heard “Sam Stone“, you should probably stop reading this right now and Youtube that song of a bitch (or simply view it in this pop-up box HERE).  It’s a great piece of work; similar to Oliver Stone‘s  Born on the Fourth of July, except that Prine‘s version involves a wife and kids and more drugs.

John Prine

Paramount Theatre

Seattle, Wa

April 17th

We arrived at the show in time to see the opening act, Dan Reeder, who is a standard American Redneck character, but one that has been living in Germany for the past ten years or so.   He is a truly light-hearted and funny entertainer.  Part of his act consisted of having a group of city-slicker cowboy types to sing, “I got all the fucking work I need“, for about 6 minutes straight.   This is not an exaggeration, that was seriously all that they sang, and he even made sure to include some wise cracks about George W. Bush.  I’m sure that knowing that he was in the most liberal fucking strong-hold in the nation helped, but I wonder what he says when he performs in other places, like Texas.  I wonder if he’s like, “Fuck this country going to shit.  Gays wanna get married, and they want us to pay for their health care!  I mean, shit… I just want a guy who loves the Country the way I do.  Someone like the former Governor of this state.  Someone like former President George W. Bush!”   Honestly, I doubt it, because Dan‘s routine was pretty effective and he actually seemed like a really stand up guy.  I guess that I always wonder if musicians do that shit because I would.  Hey, I just wanna be accepted… but I digress.  Reeder was a very solid opener, as well as a capable song writer.  Above all of the songs in his set, my favorite was the one that he closed with.  Unfortunately, I can’t recall the name of it, but do remember that it was about death and that he finished on a high note.

It would be another 30 minutes before Johnny came on, so we headed down to the Paramount Club and I got a couple of Gin and Juices.  “Two ice cubes please.“  The drinks were stiff and the free appetizers were wonderful.  The private club was filled with older couples that looked at Megan and I as if we were from Mars.  I was dressed like somewhat of a biker at the time, wearing a patched denim vest, cuffed 501 jeans, and a T-shirt for the black metal group Von that read “Satanic Blood Angel“.  Basically, I  didn’t looked like I belonged in a private club with a much older and distinguished crowd, if you can grasp the visual there.  Still, everyone was really nice and I got the feelings that the employees may have loved that I was in there pounding drinks at the bar, as if I was Billy the Kid or something.  There was the sense as if we were a couple of real outlaws, taking over one of those really classy two horse towns, bleeding the land dry and running off with the kids’ lunch money.  It made me feel unwelcome and I liked that.  We were alerted that Prine was going be on in five, so I took one more drink and then headed back to my seat.

Johnny opened up with “Spanish Pipe Dream“, which was so great that it actually started my heart pounding.  I looked over at Megan and said, “This is going to be an amazing show” and she looked back at me as if my statement was so obvious that I was an idiot for even feeling the need to say it out loud.  By the second song in, I had already began to cry.  He played “Six O’ Clock News” and, afterward, Prine offered up an amusing insight into his music by saying something like, “It took me awhile to realize that I was killing off the protagonist in all my early songs.  I guess I was going to the drama, but it sure makes it hard to write a sequel.“  I believe that “Picture Show” was next; also amazing.  I’m not exactly sure what order the setlist was in, but here’s what I believe he played:  “Aimless love“, “Souvenirs“, which also brought a tear or two, “Grandpa was a Carpenter“, and “Fish and Whistle“.  After that, I’m pretty sure it was “Glory of True Love” and then “Christmas in Prison.”  His backing band left the stage so that Johnny could play “Sins of Memphisto” solo, which is such a magical song to listen to.  I wish that I could explain to you how this show made me feel, but there are really no words to describe it.  Everything that he played was in perfect order and it was like Heaven’s jukebox had opened up just wide enough and long enough for a few of us to sneak in.

“Bruised Orange” was next and some of the lyrics in the that song are just mind-blowing.  For example, “I heard sirens on the train tracks howl naked getting nuder, an altar boy’s hit by a local commuter, just from walking with his back turned to the train that was coming so slow“.   Wrap your mind around that one.  Or how about…

“For a heart stained in anger grows weak and grows bitter.
You become your own prisoner as you watch yourself sit there
wrapped up in a trap of your very own
chain of sorrow.

I been brought down to zero, pulled out and put back there.
I sat on a park bench, kissed the girl with the black hair
and my head shouted down to my heart
‘You better look out below!‘”

It’s amazing stuff, written and delivered flawlessly.  The next song was “Please Don’t Bury Me“, followed up by “Donald and Lydia” and then “That’s the Way That the World Goes Round.“   Then came “Sam Stone“, which is obviously one of my favorites.  As Johnny began playing it, his band returned slowly to join in and back him up.  Prine‘s accompanying guitarist, Jason Wilber had been displaying amazing guitar work and solos throughout the entire show, and for this track it was no different.  During the ending of “Sam Stone“  Wilber laid down the perfect solo line to finish it off .  The next in the set was the up-tempo rock song, “Bear Creek“.  Then they played a few more rock n’ roll-style tracks that I wasn’t familiar with, before going into “I aint hurting nobody“, a bluesy number that’s pretty good, but not exactly life changing.

The songwriting legend performed “Dear Abby” next, with which he added a hilarious story that consisted of Abigail Van Buren contacting Prine‘s manager to request a ticket for an old show that he played in Kansas City.  Apparently, John had thought that it would be a good idea and, when he got to the point in that show where he was about to play the song, he had called out, “Abby, where are ya?!  I ain’t doing this song unless I know you’re here!“  After some time had passed and she was nowhere to be found, Prine followed that up by asking, “Where is she, does she ever come out?“  John then told us that some guy from way back in the rafters had stood up and yelled the response, “She only comes out on groundhogs day!” sending the rest of the crowd into laughter.

Prine followed up that song and story by playing “Hello in There” and then “Lake Marie“.  I wasn’t familiar with “Lake Marie” before the show, but I felt that, out of the songs that he’s written in recent years, it was definitely the strongest one that I’ve heard.  It was arranged beautifully and in a way that formed sonic landscapes of multiple shapes and colors.  It contains portions with swirling harmonies, and sections which incorporate a solid story-telling aspect.  The show closer was “Paradise.”  For this song, Dan Reeder returned to the stage to sing and Prine even let guitar player, Jason Wilber take a verse.  In all, I would say that John Prine probably put on one of the best shows that I have ever seen.  Everything was done to perfection from the song selection to the timing.  If you ever want the chance to see an old-timer/ living legend who is still in their prime, your best bet would be to catch a performance from Johnny yourself.  I have made the mistake of trying to see many of the other “great ones” later in their careers and none of them were able to hold a candle anywhere near John Prine.

Based on a recommendation from my friend Benny “P” (The Punks), I made sure to get to Neumos early enough to catch the opening act, WOODS.  When we got there, the members of DUNGEN were out front talking casually to some fans.  Sean Prince noticed a friend of his and, after they spoke for a moment, we discovered that there was a third band, which was playing before WOODS, and that this friend, Justin Shwartz, was in it.

BRAWLEY BANKS

Brawley Banks was six members deep; covering bass, drums, keys, and 3 guitars.  They sauntered out onto the stage, somewhat lackadaisically.  At first site, they didn’t exactly scream confidence, but I wouldn’t necessarily say that they came across as “nervous” either.  If there was any unsureness on their part, I would attribute it to performing in an opening slot on an unfamiliar stage.  A few things seemed off with the sound.  The levels were a bit uneven and Shwartz‘s vocals were far too quiet.  The venue’s sound engineer slowly made the necessary adjustments but, even with a less than perfect take-off, it was immediately clear that the band would provide a set worth listening too.  The keys, mixed with the chunky riffs and use of guitar slide, provided Brawley Banks with a dirty Southern Rock sound.  Although I think that it is more than unfair to equate them to a band like The Black Crowes, it is hard to find a widely accessible analogy to describe the sometimes raunchiness of the guitar work, swirled with the soaring notes of a baptist church organ.  Once the mics picked up, the sextet actually displayed some nice Grateful Dead style harmonies.  Another aspect that was impossible to ignore was the thundering strikes and cymbal crashes from their drummer.  Even the rest of the group seemed to look back towards him as a regular reference.  It wasn’t too surprising to later discover that the man behind the kit was none other than William Goldsmith, from Sunny Day Real Estate and early Foo Fighters fame.

It seems as if they haven’t been performing as a group for too long, which may have been forcing them to make more of a conscious effort to play with each other.  Whether that was true or not, they still sounded surprisingly good and were clearly each experienced musicians separately.  The “surprising” part was that I have fallen prey to the expection of opening bands being disappointing.  One of the main reasons that it would be unlikely for me to write for a local publication, like SOUND Magazine, is because they’re in the business of sucking every local acts dick and dousing their derivative and overly processed tripe in sugary coating.  I understand that the priority is to hype local acts and say encouraging things about them, but the only reason that I write anything ever is because I just didn’t believe anything that I was reading.  I always want to be able to embrace the openers and shower them with praise but, most of the time, they’re not even worth mentioning.  Brawley Banks is a good band and, although the crowd was not huge, everyone that was in attendance was forced to pay attention and acknowledge their performance.  Their sound offered up some familiar elements, but they didn’t come across as being contrived or overly forced.  Eventually, I realized that any lack of “stage presence” or awkwardness that I may have sensed was stemming from Brawley Banks just not giving a fuck about image and placing their focus on the music, the way that they should be.  I also realized why I was having trouble getting into so many other small-time local bands.  It was because they were focusing on their fancy images and stage presence, instead of creating listenable music as THEY should be.  Their set was extremely short, but it was long enough for the group to make an impression and set the tone for the evening.  All too often, the most effective thing about an opener is that they set the crowd up to be blood thirsty mongrels, waiting for the headliners.  This show was different and, since it began on an up note, I was comfortable enjoying the acts as they came and without any anxiety.  It was one of the first times, in a long time, that I didn’t feel the need to kill time getting drunk in a bar waiting for the main act.

WOODS

The crowd size was decent on the floor, but I had noticed that the upper portion of the venue had been closed off for the night.  They clearly didn’t expect an overwhelming turnout and it was fine with me that they were right in their assumption.  I used the gaps in the crowd as an opportunity to maneuver my way up close to the stage before the WOODS set.  Guitarist and lead vocalist, Jeremy Earl, set up on the left,  while Jarvis Taveniere and Kevin Morby handled the rhythm section respectably.  Band member, G. Lucas Crane sat on his calves dead center with his left side to the audience.  He had a suit case with him and a giant pedal board at his knees in front of him.  When he opened the case, it exposed a pile of loose cassette tapes with various day-glo scrawlings across them.  The top-center of the board contained a Big Muff distortion pedal.  On either side were numerous other effects, including a Holy Grail reverb and a couple of Boss pedals.  The lower half of the board was arranged with two big ass, old school tape recorders plugged into a mixer that they were sandwiching.

At first the name “WOODS” didn’t sound like much to me.  I thought that it was  just another random and unrelated word pulled from thin air and chosen to represent an indie band, so as to evoke as little emotion as possible, but I was wrong.  WOODS is actually the most aptly named group that I have come across in quite some time.  Their sound provides the soothing and comfortable feeling of a drinking tea at sunset on the cool porch of a humble, moss covered woodland shack, while, simultaneously, mixing in the spooky uncertainty of howling winds and rabid wolves, strategically circling the same shack at dusk.  The music is both comforting and ominous.  WOODS‘ latest release, Songs of Shame, is a great album and was represented strongly at the performance.  Seeing them live was like breaking through a wood-rotted fence to experience Songs of Shame in 3D, from the seat of a poorly oiled carnival roller coaster.

WOODS combines a solid balance of pop and folk structures with a lo-fi approach and the unrestrained, anti-structure of noise rock.  Jeremy Earl’s solos find him brutally strangling his guitar neck and landing on discordant frets, as if wringing the life from a rusty android goose.  The guitar work circles the tracks like a buzzard over dessert carrion.  Somehow, there is logic in their mix of chaos and imprecision and it works for them.  The potential for the warbling melodies to lose their footing, is remedied by the constant support provided by the static ridden, lo-fi effects.  G. Lucas Crane operated his pedal effects and knobs entirely by hand.  His janky looking mixer was missing it’s knobs and the tape-recorders had the cassette covers removed.  As incense smoke wafting into his face, he leaned over his set up.  He was constantly replacing the tapes and, like with any other DJ set up, he was working the faders to mix the pre-recorded sounds.  Headphones wrapped around Crane‘s head horizontally, so that one of the ear pieces covered his mouth and worked as a microphone.  He often appeared to be working frantically, but  it was difficult to hear if he was doing anything at all.  In monitoring his movements, while listeneing closely, his vocal and abstract sound contributions pronounced themselves from the background.  Jarvis Taveniere and Kevin Morby shared duties with the drums and bass.  Mid-set, Morby grabbed the bass from Taveniere and moved out of the way for Jarvis to settle in at the kit with a guitar.  He played the axe while seated and even laid it across the floor tom, beating and manipulating the strings with his sticks.

Everything about the indie quartet seems fragile enough to topple over at any time.  There is so much contradiction and duality in the music that it is often one aspect of the group threatening to weigh down on the other lighter elements and snap them like a twig.  Jason Earl‘s voice is probably an acquired taste for most, but I really enjoy it.  His delivery is tinged heavily with the sound of Neil Young, but as if it was placed through a high-pitched Brother Danielson voice modulator.  The instrumentation often mirrors Earl‘s cracking voice, as it is both fluid and harmonious, but also diced up with choppy moments.  Imagine the morse code-like flight pattern of a remote control plane that’s running out of batteries, with all of it’s drastic, brief, and sudden dips, drops, and peaks.  With all of their disinterest in orthodox musical approaches, WOODS is still more than a troupe of untalented and gimmicky noise rockers.  In fact, the songs are actually catchy and their sonic madness, traveling echo effects, and experimental chaos all play roles in supporting song structure, not simply in replacing it.  The lo-fi lack of interest in over production works to provide an earnestness, instead of coming across as pretentious as is too often the case.  They differentiate themselves from the electro-noise environment of their hometown, Brooklyn, by transitioning from instrumental psych into songs with delicate folk lyrics floating across static clouds, like a paper boat drifting down a sewer drain.  I recommend checking them out and I enjoyed their set, even more than I may have realized at the time.  Ever since the performance, I’ve had the song “Rain On” burrowed into my fucking skull like a mole cricket.  It’s definitely something that  grows on you.

DUNGEN

In continuance of the “groupings of trees” theme, the name DUNGEN translates from Swedish as “The Grove“.  Front man, Gustav Ejstes is credited with writing all of the music and performing most of the instrumental parts on the album but, by all accounts, DUNGEN is still a 4 piece.  The other members are featured on the studio releases and consistently operate as Ejstes‘ touring band.  A piano bench and keys were brought out and placed center stage.  When the band took the stage, they had a fifth member seated behind a set of congas next to the drum kit.

During set up, I snapped a photo of the set list that was taped to the stage for reference.  Since all of the lyrics and most of the titles are in Swedish, I have a problem remembering the songs by name.  Gustav entered with a huge smile of gratitude, but kept his back to the audience, as he shook a tambourine throughout the opening instrumental track.  It was simply labeled as “Intro” on the setlist and, although it wasn’t the same “Intro” from the Tio Bitar album, it was a great high energy opener that helped to showcase the musicians‘ technical abilities, right off the bat.  After the intro, Gustav picked up an acoustic guitar and prefaced the next tune by stating that it was “Dedicated to Fleet Foxes“.  He further explained that they had had an opportunity to spend some time with them, while in town.  In fact, the percussionist, which would later be referred to as “Josh“, was actually none other than, local troubadour and Fleet Foxes drummer, J. Tillman.  They performed the Summery and melodic psych-folk track “Festival” and followed it up with the track “Bandhagen“.  Ejstes sat for the piano heavy instrumental; his face blocked by his wavy shoulder-length hair.  The song sounded amazing and I was surprised at how flawless everything had been performed up to this point.  Whether or not people feel the constant necessity to remind each other that Ejstes is the “core” of the group, nobody in DUNGEN should be overlooked or ignored.  Their individual versatility and complexity, as well as their overall cohesion and synchronicity as a group, is nothing short of mind-blowing.  The most exciting part was that the show was only getting started.

For the song “Ingenting Aer Sig Likt” (“Nothing is the Same”), Gustav invited the remaining four members of Fleet Foxes to come up and join them.  For the most part, Robin Pecknold just hid himself behind the bass amp, but the rest of the band members grabbed percussive instruments.  It was a jazzy number that really displayed Ejstes‘ piano skills.  He twinkled away and tore up the keys like Fred Rogers on his famous children’s show intro.  The guests left the stage and the next offering “Det Tar Tid” (“It Takes Time“) was introduced as “A Love Song“.  It’s a sultry song tinged with psychedelia and ethereal piano ripples, which would fit right at home in a romantic boat sequence at the end of a ‘70s Bond film.  For “Du Ska Inte Tro Att Det Ordnar Sig” (“You Shouldn’t Expect it to Work Out“), Gustav rose from his seat and grabbed his tambourine again.  Bassist, Mattias Gustavsson, laid down a 70s blues rock rift, which provided a solid foundation for Ejstes vocals and Reine Fiske‘s soaring guitar work.  Drummer, Johan Holmegard, provided a heavy back beat, accented with little explosive, Jiffy-Pop drum rolls.

Before the next track, I heard Sean Prince scream out a request of “ABBA!” from the other side of the stage.  About this time, I was also asked to stop shooting photographs by the management.  “Bortglömd” (“Forgotten”/”Neglected“) contains a heavy driving rhythm and crunchy, choppy guitar distortion.  It’s easy to hear the Sabbath influence in DUNGEN‘s music, but the sound of this track might be more appropriately likened to stomping on bald, squealing break pads, while traveling through a black whole on your way to smash through a brick wall.  Gustav stomped around and shook like Robert Plant and Reine Fiske held his screaming pick ups towards his speaker cabinet.  His ability to harness every note and control every aspect of, otherwise, unwieldy feedback was amazing.  He had a delicate touch that was hard to ignore and could tweak a high-pitch note through the roof like a Blue Angel, make it stop on a dime, drop it like a busted elevator in an inferno, and reel it back again.  It was as if Fiske could set off a landmine, freeze the shrapnel in mid-air, form the pieces into a bullet, and then shoot it through your face.  His control was ridiculous.  They slowed things down for “Sätt att se” (“Ways to See“), a beautiful and jazzy piano odyssey filled with wispy psych guitar.  Something about the tune reminded me of Dots and Loops-era Stereolab.  The next song was “Mina Damer Och Fasaner” (“My Ladies and Pheasants”) and featured Gustav on flute.  The bassline thumped along like the soundtrack to a mythical army of Orcs marching through a barren wasteland.  Buzzing Eastern guitar painted a landscape of blood red clouds overhead.  It was a dark tune, but whimsical as all get out.  I wouldn’t have been surprised if a fairy or some magic potion spilled from the end of Ejstes‘ flute during his little wind flurries.  Those in attendance were fortunate enough to be treated to an extended jam that doubled the length of the song.  Mattias Gustavsson ran up and down neck of his bass and Johan Holmegard spooled out drum beats like a trash can full of hummingbirds.  If the show was an acid trip, this portion could definitely be considered the peak.  It was like the moment when Robin Williams finally sees the fluorescent putty that everyone’s munching on and has a food fight in the movie Hook.  The jam was part 1970s Dead and part Miles Davis.  Although they ventured into spaced out areas with reckless abandon, every single note and movement seemed logical and transitioned smoothly.  Holmegard simultaneously threw down complicated drum lines while taking tempo cues from Gustav to end the song in percussive lunacy.  The top of my skull had been blown off like a toy rocket and WOODS‘ G. Lucas Crane lovingly screamed, “You Mutha Fuckaz!“  at DUNGEN from the audience.

The drum intro to “Panda” was quickly and easily recognized by the excited crowd.  It was the first DUNGEN song that I had ever heard and it had sucked me into their music immediately.  Holmegard‘s drumming continued to mystify me and he effortlessly maintained the driving beat which, in reality, was way more complicated than I had ever realized.  Gustav had, what appeared to be, an electric Gretsch leaning against an amp throughout the night.  The neglected guitar featured a reference to his hip hop roots in the form of a Stones Throw decal.  He picked it up and stated his desire to dedicate the next song to their US tour manager, Chris Newmyer.  He followed that up by saying,  “It’s nice to play music in another language.  People have their own.” and then asked Newmyer to remind him of the English phrase that he substitutes when singing along to the title track from their Ta Det Lungt album.  Apparently it was “Play With Balls” and, every time that they reached the chorus, Gustav Ejstes actually screamed the words “PLAY WITH BALLS!” in it’s place.  Mattias, who was singing along from the bass, clearly didn’t know that Ejstes was going to do that, so he laughed and stumbled through his vocals.  As the song progressed and he realized that he was going to be forced to stand in representation of scrotal manhandling until the song was over, he looked more and more uncomfortable.  The members from WOODS roared with laughter and, when the music finally ceased, Newmyer stepped up to the piano and left two $20 bills on it, as if it was payment for the antic.  Gustav crinkled the bills under his nose like he was savoring them and Mattias just said, “I should have some of that money too.“  They played one more jazzy piano tune, “Målerås finest“, before announcing that their “last song of the tour” would be “Fredag” and inviting the members of WOODS and Fleet Foxes to come back on stage and join them.  They crowded onto the stage and Gustav thanked everyone for coming out to the final show of their “Fuck Yeah Tour 2009“.  J. Tillman had left the stage during “Panda“, but Ejstes only just realized it and began screaming, “Where’s Josh?!  Where the fuck is Josh?!“  Once everyone was ready, they finished off the night with a percussion-filled extravaganza, and left the stage.  Mattias Gustavsson pointed a camera at the audience and prompted, “Get together.  I want to get you all in this.“  He later returned to quiet the screams for an encore by apologizing and explaining that Esjstes could not continue due to a current health issue.  “Seriously… seriously…seriously.  Gustav is fucked up inside.”

It’s a rarity for me, but I found the entire show to be captivating and packed with substance.  The combination of the WOODS and DUNGEN sets made me feel like I was at an incredible and amazing house party, minus the irritation of pretentious activists and the standard, drunken hipster in the obscure amusement park sweatshirt gratuitously macking on uncomfortable college girls.  The majority of DUNGEN‘s set was comprised of songs from their most recent album, 4 .  Although it hadn’t resonated with me as much as the previous efforts, the show was so great that I’ve gone back a rediscovered much of it’s material with fresh ears.  Their jazz sensibilities were more pronounced than I had expected and were admirably fused with the Prog, Psych, Folk, and Rock elements.  I ran into my friend Josh, towards the end of the show and we both expressed our awe and satisfaction of the show quality to each other.  He mentioned that, after seeing DUNGEN perform two years ago, he half-assumed that they would have reached some sort of Zeppelin status by now.  Not that they don’t deserve it or don’t have the live chops, but I just don’t see that happening.  In general, I feel that people have a problem moving beyond the language barrier to give them the chance that they truly deserve.  After I left, Josh also mentioned that he spoke with Reine Fiske, who told him that he had a straight job that he needed to get back to when they returned to Sweden.  Apparently, the sheer appreciation that DUNGEN expresses towards their audiences is derived, at least partially, from the fact that they have somewhat normal lives back home.  They come to the United States and get to become rockstars for 5 weeks, or so, and then it’s over.  One thing is definite; all of the excitement, power, and gratitude that they feel is projected in spades for those brief moments that they get to perform for those who appreciate it.