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Issue # 55 Nov-Dec 2003 thewigwambam.com |
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| Ignoring Objectivity Since 1998
WIG WAM BAM “Albuquerque zine of music & nepotism” |
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| Edward Kaspel, RAM, Shonen Knife, Mindy
Set, Roxieharts, the Sweatband, Mark Mallman, the Friendly, Some Girls,
Demolition Doll Rods, the Husbands, Noisear, Fukrot, Bulletrainmafia, Jumbo's
Killcrane, the Prids, the Star Spangles, the Darlington Horns, New Weapons |
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New Broadcast [CD-R 2003] |
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"Thoughtless Essays on America and the World" |
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by Dee Snarl Karl Hendricks Trio, Enon by Johnny Wrangler the Locusts by Apache Chief and Marvel Girl The Kleptones - Meet the Beatless by Dee Snarl Mark Mallman by Juliet Legend |
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| LOCAL
SHOWS |
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| Edward Kaspel, Random Access Memory 10/8/03 @ Burt’s I was somewhat at a loss for this show as I knew Edward Kaspel of the Legendary Pink Dots from only a handful of masterful tracks that DJ Nobody spun on now-defunct ‘burque pirate station Rebel Radio. But I caught on quickly, somewhat unusual for a thick-headed lout like meself. Our good friends Random Access Memory were the perfect openers with their thumping nu-goth dancebeats. Besides, Kent set up the show and deserved to put himself on the damn bill if he felt like it; no one was complaining. RAM was well up to the challenge of opening for a legendary Legendary. Kaspel’s vocal meanderings from UFOs to god to ghosts were ably backed by a guy on synth/keys but especially a woman playing a masterful theremin. She did things with that unit that many of us didn’t think possible or even plausible. I’d describe the sound as tru-goth, not that stupid wannabe faux-blackness that passes for it these days. Not knowing Kaspel’s catalog, some of it went overlong for me and seemed a little repetitive but so would the rocknroll I love seem to the crowd in attendance. Its all relative don’t ya know. Overall though, I was mostly enthralled with a style outside of my narrow purview. Yay! The place was jam-packed, mostly with folks that you wouldn’t normally see outside of joints like the Pulse-- and amen for that. We got enough mooks and low-rider creeps ruining downtown, its great to have a crowd that’s sorta new, who don’t want to fuck with anyone but just wanna dance/trance and have a good time. They did and so did the rest of us. Shonen Knife, the Mindy Set, the Roxieharts 10/14/03 @ Launchpad As much as I love both the Roxies or the Mindies I was antsy waiting for the headliners. The Roxieharts were cut short by Amy X’s desperate throat ailment that even shots couldn’t assuage and I’m not talking injections here, folks. Some of the Mindy Set were ailing as well but since their vox are a bit mellower than the Roxies’ howlin’ girly wail, there wasn’t much of a problem. Then: Shonen fucking Knife!!! Who knew they still existed? Not me. If you’re a fan of the Power Puff Girls cartoon maybe you knew that they play the theme song. I’m not and didn’t. Its an ok song and I guess its sorta cool that the Cartoon Network would even have them do it. At any rate, its better than Iggy Pop on cruise liner adverts or the Who hawking allergy meds. Kurt Cobain said it best about Shonen Knife: When I finally got to see them live, I was transformed into an hysterical 9-year-old girl… Now, if you’d never heard or seen them before, you may wonder what all the gush is about. After all, Japanese pop-punk girl bands have been proliferate for many years: Sunnychar, Supersnazz, the Pebbles, Mika Bomb, Softball, plus straight-up rocknroll revivalists like the 5.6.7.8s (the latter the only worthy part of Quentin Tarantino's over, over-rated "film" Kill Bill). Here's why you should care: in 1983 sisters Naoko & Atsuko Yamano and Michie Nakatani were covering/aping the Ramones when no one else gave a shit anymore. Now minus Nakatani but with a new member, they still have to ability to make hard rockers pee their pants. Shonen Knife records cover all ranges: amateurish, absurd, whimsical, cute, polished, punky, poppy and crammed with hooks as sticky as mochi rice. Their lyrics have a directness due in part to literal translations from their native language but also some written in English but in the Japanese idiom. At a glance the words might seem overly simple and ordinary but there’s a charming economy about them. From their latest CD Heavy Songs, tonight they played Golden Years of Rock’n’roll, a perfect example of the matter-of-factness but that sums up my feelings of the show exactly: I got news my favorite band/ would go on a reunion concert tour/…it was very high-priced/ but it’s OK/ it might be a precious time for me/its all right/…anyway the music made me so happy. In fact this song is the best ever in the rock’n’roll-will-never- die genre and that includes everyone else who’s ever written one from Neil Young to the Ramones (not to mention bloodless wankers like Bryan Adams who even managed a decent one). Neither do the gals play coy with their influences; check these name-checking lyrics from the self-titled Shonen Knife off the 712 cassette from 1993: Nick Lowe, Costello, Beatles/ Redd Kross, Ramones, Buzzcocks/…Jonathan Richman, XTC and more …u-u-ultra eccentric/super- cult/punk pop band/Shonen Knife! Too, only someone as old as me or a student of the British Invasion would gleefully recognize the band’s onstage bow-from-the-waist after each song as a Beatles/Epstein gesture. I guess the upshot of what I’m getting at here is that Shonen Knife can’t be judged solely on musical terms (although I think its exceptional, pop wise) but must be put in context. Sure, it ain’t ground-breaking anymore. But it was and paved the way for every Ramones style group and especially every girl punkpop band ever since, all of whom however have never topped the Knife. Show your respect. the Sweatband, Mark Mallman, the Mindy Set 10/17/03 @ Atomic There’s always someone on hiatus during 1/3 of the Mindy Set career. With guitarist Mike (who I fully believe is the Mindies’ secret weapon) away this gig time, their sound veers towards a more rockin’ Nuggets-style than their signature modified-Manchester but as always, its commendable work, some of ‘burque’s best. Glam-pop rockers the Sweatband have crept up to expert musicianship. How can you be solid but loose and fluid all at once? I’m not certain but they are. After quite a few gigs in their year-old career they sound increasingly “pro” but far short of the hackwork that usually goes along with that term. As for presence, Juliet was macking all over the joint, letting everyone eat it up with a spoon. With a too tight button-down shirt that kept popping open at the hairy navel, Zed was doing his best Britney Spears on steroids imitation--it wasn’t pretty. Isaac has a few moves up his sleeve but those sleeves are decidedly un-glam. A puffy shirt or skintight gold lame sharkskin pants would do wonders for his image. Serious. As for Ryan, well, dude’s a drummer and no one would even notice if he was pantless back there. Mark Mallman was new to everyone I knew in the crowd. Whispers of glam kept surfacing. Now while I wouldn’t peg him in that realm, there’s much that leans towards it with sweeping electric piano work (how refreshing! piano instead of synth) and histrionic vocals in a show-y context. By “show” I mean UK Glam’s unexplored roots in the English Music Hall tradition, sort of the British equivalent to USA Broadway glitz but dating back to the 1910s and before. Bowie, Bolan and Eno would have been right at home in Edwardian suits playing two-a-days “on the boards” at the Old Vic, wot? A gal drummer kept tabs on the CD programs that supplied f/x and acted as control-freak Mallman’s long-suffering straightman. The crowd was much amused the entire set with his antics and verbal acrobatics, me included. I probably won’t much listen to the CD I bought because with a full band he leans closer to the mainstream than his stripped-down live act. I think I preferred the show mostly because his grandiose gestures work best in front of a crowd, crazed like Lon Chaney as Erik terrorizing Paris in the 1925 film classic The Phantom of the Opera. the Friendly 10/18/03 house party Some Girls 10/18/03 @ Launchpad A generous gal whose name escapes me hosted a party to spark interest in Trans 66’s NM Showcase gig. You’d think she was their manager or something! I left early in order to catch Juliana Hatfield’s latest band downtown but not before I heard the Friendly in the living room. A tight and loud three-piece, they were math rock, about half-instro. Pretty well done and not quite emo which I give lavish thanks for, praise Allah! Although alt.loser.pop Hatfield is the frontwoman of Some Girls, the overall feel is different than her past outfits like the poppy Blake Babies or the Juliana Hatfield Three and totally unlike the surprisingly hard-rocking Juliana’s Pony. Slow to take off, a few numbers in she found her pace to lead the trio in the mostly delightful now-I-wanna-kill-myself pop she’s known for. It was a wise move on Hatfield’s part to break in her old die-hard fans with this band during her last tour which was 98% a greatest-hits affair, which they pulled off well. They played okay tonight but drummer Freda Love is sorely lacking in any chops or fills that all good guitar pop screams out for. I can’t really see what she’s got going for her. Bassist Heidi Gluck has her own band who opened the show but from what I was told, I was fortunate to have missed them. But I’ve followed Hatfield for years and would go hear her play anything. I couldn’t thoroughly enjoy the show however. I was delayed getting into the ‘pad; not because I went to the party but because the cops had cordoned off the streets. One of the numerous asshole cruisers we’ve been plagued with lately downtown dumped a dead guy into the street after shooting him. At first I was just very sad. But soon I was angry that these shit-for-brains have brought their idiocy to every corner of town. Their baboon-like behavior cruising Central & Gold is bad enough without the gravity of this. Fuck you people. You’re useless. Go shoot each other over Nikes in your own damn backyard. Demolition Doll Rods, the Husbands 10/21/03 @ Burt’s the Sweatband 10/21/03 @ Atomic From the moment we walked into Burt’s there were serious rumors of a no-show by Detroit’s Demolition Doll Rods. Add to this the depressing sound of some pseudo-acoustic jam band onstage and you can see why it was decided to decamp to the Atomic Cantina until things cleared up. The Sweatband were playing somebody or another’s birthday party and although they sounded no worse or better than usual, they sure looked like the hired guns rather than the usual when a band can hardly be told from the bar-goers. Still they kept us expertly entertained until the Husbands were up back next door at Burt’s. More punk rawk than I’d like, it was still a decent set but typical hardrock girlpunk like any number of tuff-chick outfits you could name: Squat, Smears, Smut etc. Earlier, I’d spotted Christine Doll Rod wandering around outside on the phone and sorta staked out the situation until the opportunity arose (she hung up) for me to ask her, “Hey, think y’all gonna play?” See, Danny & Margaret Doll Rod were crashed hard in the van, evidently not much interested in playing. Apparently there was some miscommunication between the Dolls and their management, the Albuquerque stop being a last-minute add-on. The stop was not listed on the D. Rods’ online tour sched and the half-name “Demolition Dolls” listed on the Burt’s roster kinda threw everyone off. Lucky for us the band rallied enough to play. I think they were troubled that the small but ugly mob would turn uglier, overturn the van, set fire to trash cans, etc. Starting way late (last call lights flashed during their last tune), Danny was clearly out of it, fucking up left and right. Too bad ‘cause he’s typically much better than what we heard tonight. Years back, he was in the Gories (with Dirtbombs ace frontman Mick Collins) which gives the guy major cred for life in my book. Not what you would call a technically proficient band, the Doll Rod sound is hot in spite of their sonically-trashed stripped-down style. And stripped down it is, aurally as well as visually: cheek-baring vinyl panties, leather g-strings, pasties, Vampirella swim suits, or anything leaving nothing to the imagination. Margaret, Danny and Christine show lots of flesh, wobbly or anemic as it may be. And that’s the genius of their live show: while twits (twats) like Britney Spears and Beyonce Knowles strive for airbrush picture-perfection (perfect to whom? Not me, brother) the Doll Rods have always known that although their peep show may have initially gotten everyone’s attention, it’s the blues-infused Motor City sound that keeps you sticking around for the set. Lord knows, pictures of a half-naked skinny-ass Danny Doll Rod on the cover has never sold one of their records; not to me at least. I was disappointed only in that they seem to have dropped their new-pasties-per-tour action they were previously known for. Car air-fresheners, cloth tobacco pouches and bottle caps are merely three of the choices I’ve witnessed among what I’m sure are dozens. Creating musical/naked mayhem for almost ten years now, the Demolition Doll Rods are legendary in their own way. The small but appreciative crowd let ‘em know it. Noisear, Fukrot 10/28/03 @ the Attic In honor of Captain America’s long-lost nephew coming in for a few from London (to be more accurate, I’m the long lost uncle), me & my bro’ (Colonel Aureliano)took his son to our first sojourn into the Attic after way too much damn food at Los Cuates. My favorite part of the Attic is the stairwell entrance with all the corrugated tin-roofing converging lines that gave me a giddy vertigo on the way in. So far so good. The space itself -- hardwood floors and longer than wide --looks like a dance studio that moms drop their precious angels off at after school while they attend to the weeks’ grocery shopping: “Alison, more pirouette on the fortissimo! Libby, keep your toes pointed! Watch yourselves in the mirrors, girls!” While Fukrot battered out a trashed/thrashed set (guitar that wouldn’t hold tune, myriad distractions of the day) you could feel the wood floor weebling up & down, giving me visions of the whole lot of us crashing through to an abandoned ware-house bathtub gin operation below. Still, sloppy or no, we love Fukrot for their humor and never-a-poser stance. As Noisear began we were out of harm's way in the bar area behind the safety-orange netting with cold bottles of Negro Modelo in hand. I’ve always thought highly of Noisear’s metallic structures and power therein but I’ll never get past the demonic Cookie Monster vocals of any band of this genre. By set’s end, the too-generous portions of food were weighing heavily in our guts so it was decided to slide home even though that meant missing Cripple Bastard from Italy. Nephew Sam said he caught them at a punkfest in Croatia this summer so we didn’t feel too bad. Arrivederci! Bulletainmafia, Jumbo’s Killcrane, Noisear 11/4/03 @ Burt’s Captain America at two hardcore shows in seven days? Wow, somebody take my temperature! Please! We walked in on Noisear’s last couple of numbers which I didn’t really get to hear since I was otherwise engaged in purchasing libations at the bar. Second up was-- from Lawrence, Kansas -- Jumbo’s Killcrane. Visually they reminded me of the COS (Confederacy Of Scum) scene… y’know: bands like Rancid Vat, Antiseen, Limecell, full of big fat ugly guys that look like hell no matter what. By contrast, lotsa of crusties and grindcore kids would actually look presentable to your mom if you cut off their dreads and cleaned ‘em up a little. Younger and better lookin’ by far than your average COS’er (and not fat), Jumbo’s Killcrane would probably clean up OK. The music however was another story: a slow unwavering heavy tempo, like hard rock for autistics. But Bulletrainmafia..! Holy fuck! I forgot how good they can be, especially the new line up with ex-Laughing Dog members (one of your better metal/grind bands in recent local history). Dual vocals, punishing drums and of course Sonny’s assassinator guitar leads. But I kept coming back to focus on the vox. Those two guys had harmony in a heavyass way, the Beach Boys of metalcore! I’ve missed their shows for almost a year; don’t you make that same mistake. the Prids, the Sweatband, Ki 11/21/03 @ Burt’s I had a recent complaint from the Sweatband. Seems they were raiding wigwambam.org for quotes to use in their SXSW press pack but couldn’t find anything good. Its not that I don’t love ‘em. I do. (Glam is the “next big thing”, mark my words) I think I just get so into the groove, dancin’ and all that the set slips by without any critical commentary on my part. But style, attitude, vogue, flair: they got it all and I ain’t even got past Miss Legend yet! …ahem… Let’s see, how much simpler can I make it… the Sweatband is the best dance rockn’roll band around here these days although the Dirty Novels are, like, about this close behind. But the Sweats have more jumbo pop hooks. I’m just a sucker for that shit. (ok, guys, how was that? good enough? kiss ass enough? can I have my keys, wallet and glasses back now? please..? ) As for Ki, the opening band, I don’t get it. I heard a few comments tonight ranging from “dorm rock” to “ some ska band”. I usually champion divergent bands on the same bill but they really didn’t fit tonight. Sorry. The last time here in April was sparsely attended (philistines!) but word has gotten around about Portland’s the Prids. And why not? They’re utterly brilliant, one of the best things to happen to amplified music since stereo. Mistina’s bass is especially noteworthy as a rhythm, melody and lead instrument all in one but each member is absolutely essential to the whole; not one wasted sound between the four of them, true musicians all. There’s dance overtones, goth undertones, crashing rock and symphonic leanings. The compositions and execution are inspired, the most radiant gloom you’ve ever heard, live or recorded. the Star Spangles, the Darlington Horns 11/27/03 @ Atomic There ought to be rules that bands can't misrepresent their sound by their manner of dress. New York’s the Star Spangles would have been in police custody straightaway from the first notes of their set. They look like the Small Faces, sound like Cheap Trick covering the Sex Pistols. I grant you, things could get worse than that, say, dressing like the Temptations and covering No Doubt but despite their Rock N’ Roll packaging, the Star Spangles are still just ordinary high energy punk rock. Sure, punk rock needed to progress after the Ramones/Pistols era but no one seems to have noticed that it got uninteresting after the Avengers, while Minor Threat was its last gasp for glory. After that, punk reverted to metalisms and all that rubbish that everyone wanted to toss overboard in the first place. The Darlington Horns on the other hand don’t dress like anybody in particular but sonically remind of the best of the Stones’ country excursions like Dead Flowers as if rocked-up during the infamous Exile On Main Street sessions. Instead of Exile's famed studio debauchery for months in a spacious French Villa, the Horns would host a liquored up weekend at the Super 8 Motel in Truth Or Consequences, New Mexico. The Horns are a shoot ‘em up bar band, the sharpest outfit that lead vocalist Rod and lead guitarist Ben have been in over the years: better than Q’s Revenge, the Impatients and the Backseat Rockers put together. And I will never let it be forgotten that Mr Rod Parker earned legendary status among the Rebel Radio crew by being the first to send us a demo tape for on-air pirate radio play while the cream of the “cool” scenesters ignored us altogether. the Shins, the Sweatband, New Weapons 11/28/03 @ Sunshine Theater New Weapons (ex-Starsky) have their moments but mostly sound like an unholy alliance between old “alternative” and nu-metal alt.rock. A pop sense (my favorite part) from Starsky remains in a few tunes but is overridden by the nu harder edge. Still, the sparse crowd seemed to enjoy the set. The house was a bit fuller when the Sweatband were up but was made of mostly indie-rock chickies, their arms folded, stoically awaiting those cute Shins boys. The Sweatband’s white pants ensemble was a good look for this show: on a big stage in a deep house, their biggest show yet. But Zed and especially Isaac dirtied their knees two or three songs in. Guys, you ain’t gonna get signed to Sub Pop that way! Juliet was immaculate as always (amen) as if she has a permanent bubble of anti-stain Scotchguard ® around her. As for Ryan, well, he’s on a drum stool and even if he went pantsless, no one would notice. By mid-set, a handful of the indie chick-a-dees were swaying a little, taken in by the Sweats’ glam/powerpop (by power-pop here, I don’t mean “classic” powerpop like ‘Trick or Flaming Groovies or whatever, but pop with a rockin’ punch). While I’m glad that our home-town boys made good, the Shins-centric crowd is emblematic of the typical music fan who isn’t really a music fan at all but a genre fan at best or a follower of one or two bands at worst. Everyone loves James Mercer’s voice so I hope they don’t hit me when I say he sounds like singer Jon Anderson of bloated prog rockers Yes. Really. Listen carefully sometime. Class clown Marty Crandall was entertaining as always and gets extra points for totally avoiding cheeseball 60s garage band keyboards. I knew there was a new bassist but was taken aback to see ex-Scared of Chaka Dave Hernandez playing such a sedate part. That made me realize that as good as the Shins are (and they are pretty damn good,) I think I would’ve preferred to see el loco Hernandez and them Chaka boys onstage in full reunion effect. Hernandez gets extra punk points for wearing a Drags t-shirt. Overall tonight the sound was as best as I’ve ever heard in this hall which was built to project the human voice and acoustic instruments. There’s too many slick surfaces, sharp edges and that cavernous ceiling for the high levels of rocknroll amplification to sound decent. It takes a damn good soundman to make a Sunshine show not sound like slop. Thanks, Icky, good work. |
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| LOCAL
RELEASES NM bands, any label |
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the MINDY SET New Broadcast [CD-R 2003] Starburst Records www. themindyset.com matt@ the mindyset.com Its inexplicable to me why the Mindy Set doesn’t have a huge following or get airplay all over “alternative” radio or win-- hands down--the NM Showcase. From my stint in 2001 & 2002 as a Showcase judge (whose screw-loose idea was that?! Mr Fefferman I’m looking your way here), I can tell you that the “rate ‘em from 1 to 10” criterion consists of things like performance, musicianship, ability, originality and the nebulous overall. The Mindies have all that in spades as well as a sound that could get them into Shins territory: that is, top of the pops within the indie rock realm which may seem wide-ranging to us--but let’s face it-- is actually quite limited, mainstream success measured by getting a slot on the Conan O’ Brian show or (god help us all) Craig Kilborn. I’ve never used the word radio-friendly as a compliment before but it is in this case. There’s no sell-out involved just the an original take on a genre (Ride, Stone Roses, the Manchester ‘sound’, blah blah blah) but there’s great fresh-ness on display here within that style. C’mon, your average music fan thinks “the White Strokes” are groundbreaking and original for chrissakes! The glaring fault of this disc is that there’s only three songs including New Broadcast, a fast-growing crowd fave. So with their 2002 DEMONE CD, this makes six Mindy songs committed to binary posterity from a band that could pull off a quality full-length with no filler whatsoever and maybe a few B-sides on a pair of CD singles. Even so, the recording is crisp and exceptionally well mixed, thanks to “the sixth Mindy”, Alex Rose. This man is the shadow member of any band he records and captures the Mindy Set at their top. He can make a band’s studio work sound like their best live show ever. It would be cool to put together a compilation of Alex’s local work and hear the aural excellence he pulls out of whomever he records. This disc rates a big fat A-fuckin’-+. |
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T Pocket Reader “Thoughtful essays on america and the World” 10/15/03 Vol. 4 16 pp, 8 _ x 5 _, laserprint, ?; free tpocketreader@yahoo.com (505) 463-3272 There used to zines all over this town: Captn Nola, Slut, Lie Detector, Chaos Ninja, The Vegetable Inside Us All, Collected, Heights Kid, Death of Submission, Insurgent Press, Hit and Run, End Times Tribune, Maniacal Outburst, Kablooey!, Vox, Quench, Seedhead, Randoms, Smarty Pants, Off the Curb, Static to name just a few. Some lasted for years, some only an issue or three but there was regular photocopy output going on. Now, everyone just goes printless, straight to the Web. Besides the more pro–aspiring Transmission, Life Among Ruins --formerly Monkey Dust--is the only print zine I’ve seen in recent memory. Even Monkeywrench, the longest running zine in recent years, has gone internet only. Sadly, way too many zines were/are high school kids comparing their teachers to Nazis or telling about their achingly deep adolescent pain and how unfair life is. Excuse while I puke. Thus, T Pocket Reader was quite a surprise to me when it showed up in my mailbox. Its obviously written for intelligent readers (Iraq, Afghanistan, Church vs State, etc). Its also sort of somewhere between the extremes of Xerox and internet. Its produced on a decent laser printer but appears to draw much of its content from online. Me, I prefer more of the local angle but its still welcome in a time of blogs being more popular than zines. T Pocket will likely find an audience at coffee shops rather than the gin mills where this Wig Wam Rag you’re now holding is mostly found. |
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Sex Pistols, Glass Heroes 9/8/03 @ Marquee Theatre, Tempe AZ by Dee Snarl Ah, at last, to see the fucking Sex Pistols. Look, I know perfectly well that many of you think that seeing another Sex Pistols reunion tour is in fact about as unpunk as it gets. I can see your point. But still, what did you do that night? Watch TV? I saw the Sex Pistols (at a theatre that holds maybe a couple thousand people)! I win! Local openers the Glass Heroes seem to have every old-school punk opening slot in town sewn up. And I can see why: they remembered all their words, and played all their songs without messing up once. Unfortunately, their workmanlike punk didn’t really light a fire under me, reminding me more of Bruce Springsteen than the Clash. They’re a good band, but they need to get a little bit raucous. The Pistols came out next, and you can probably guess the rest. They played pretty much all of Never Mind the Bollocks… and maybe like one or two others (like “Belsen Was a Gas” and…) (and which poseur among you will blame me for drinking too much beer at the freaking Sex Pistols concert?!) Johnny was the show; nobody paid any attention to the others, who looked alarmingly average. The only hitch came during Anarchy in the U.K. which they fucked up and had to start over. And then fucked up some more. But, that too was somehow fitting, as it just wouldn’t be the Sex Pistols if they didn’t mess up and so humiliate themselves. Punk Rock! And yes, this was the original Pistols lineup. Glen Matlock was the bassist before Sid Vicious, and Glen’s total musical contribution is a matter of some controversy, but generally recognized as very influential. Still, Sid was certainly a character, what with the heroin and reckless behavior. It must have been hard to keep a band going with such a messed up member. Sid freakin’ Vicious… .Say, I wonder whatever happened to that guy…? Karl Hendricks Trio 10/9/03 Enon 10/10/03 @ Larimer Lounge, Denver CO by Johnny Wrangler Fuckin-A right! Enon in Denver was spectacular!!! These guys are my new fuckin favorites! After being blown away by the half -set I sped to see at the Launchpad a week and a half previous, I was literally counting the days until this show at the Larimer. Grazing past the merch stand pre-show, beer in hand, I mentioned to Toko that I'd attended the Abq set on 9/28 and she smiled and said "Oh yeah! Albuquerque was a fun show!" I couldn't agree anymore if I wanted to. The Larimer Lounge was as packed as I've ever seen it; hell the night before I was there to see Karl Hendricks Trio (Merge recording artist) with about 10 other people...if you're looking for a comment on that show think Bob Mould on a LA-Z-Boy with the amp turned to 9.5 and with a six pack of High Life and a bottle of Rogaine at his side. OK, you know sometimes when you're waiting for something to happen, and you're anticipating some kind of glorious moment, and you don't know exactly what shape or form it will take? Sometimes anticipation can spoil your perception of what you perceive to be the outcome. What will unfold before you in a day? today at work? in your car? tonight? right now? Who's behind me? AHHHHHHH!!! Wooops, I got a little carried away there. Back to the unexpected glorious moment. Enon -their PA blew midset which led the band into some muzak version of "waiting room" that kind of illustrates what I'm talkin about. Enon didn't expect it; and they didn't reject it either, they just went along for the ride and something special came out of it. The crowd was an asylum of ENONononers and they didn't care...just so long as it didn't take to long to remedy the PA. Which it didn't. Before I go any further I think I must backtrack to earlier in the day where this so-called "unexpected glorious moment" is further illustrated... While chasing some Czech clove liquor (unexpected) with a few midday beers (glorious) at a South Broadway Bar, I was entertaining a guest from Norfolk, VA before a (momentary) Ween in-store performance at Twist and Shout (record store) The guy sittin' next to us at the bar happens to be an SUV limousine driver and takes us back to see Ween where everyone thinks we are part of the band, driver and all! I could go into this a whole lot more, but suffice it to say that work-free Fridays and afternoon drinking leading to limousine rides ending up with Enon happen about as often as a lunar eclipse (it's not that uncommon). Because of our drinking, and the throngs of the sandal-wearing Ween republic, we didn't actually see Ween (who I've never seen anyway and just went because it was free, and perhaps an enlightening performance). But, a friend mine who loaned Ween amps, said they were nice and hanging out with a bunch of fun guys. I was introduced to one of 'em later that night which brings me back to Enon. The Larimer Lounge was so packed… How packed was it? …I had a foot on the stage and was asked when I was up! Damn they were good! They really have done their homework and know how to write a good groove. What amazes me about this trio is that they really have a full sound and know when to bring in that hook. The drummer is so composed and even- keeled one song, and then he pounds on the skins harder than Keith Moon the next. The songs themselves were a bit more familiar too, although none of them sound alike. They cross genres more than David Bowie. One song is chirpy-cheery Stereolab-esque, the next is some slacker rock Pavement riff. With the Japan-o-Brooklyn girl/guy vocal trade-off, not to mention the instrument swapping, there are virtually no boundaries in their repertoire or outlook. I'm glad I was practically on stage, I really felt the pulse of the crowd and the beat of the drum, and I was closest to Toko, and she's really cute, and of course, there was that fun guy (wink-wink). And to think what started it all was that teaser of a half-set a week and a half previous at the Launchpad. the Locust [no date given] @ Launchpad by Apache Chief and Marvel Girl the Chief: The Locust had cute hats and they sounded pretty good, but I don’t understand why a band would go from interesting to slightly less interesting. Gone were the electronic embellishments that separated them from the plague of hardcore bands which they now sound almost exactly like. No doubt they were good, but any one song was perfectly interchangeable with another and even the heckling lost its charm when I ran out of insect jokes. The Locust, great playing in your garage at a party, but not as good as I would expect from a national act who should be at their prime. the Girl: Cult status has led the Locust to be complacent both in their stage show and their music. Neither their songs nor their stage show were nearly as interesting, varied and dynamic as they have been in the past. I'll give a little credit to the Launchpad's sound system for the lack of subtle yet constant & intense nuance and variation of the sounds contained within each Locust song, but I'm still giving some credit to either to many drugs, just not giving a damn anymore, or thinking that they can get away with less. the Kleptones Meet the Beatless [CD-R 2003] http:// the kleptonesarestealing.songsfrom.us by Dee Snarl Full disclosure statement: I love the Beatles. When pressed, I’ll name the Beatles as my favorite group (and fuck y’all). This disc is composed entirely (I think) of Beatles music spliced, remixed, and otherwise tweaked by sonic terrorists Lucifer Vandross and Co. Naturally, this is far from easy listening; to their credit, the ‘tones do sometimes display a familiarity with and affection for their subject. Not to be puritanical, but I have a problem with fucking with the Beatles. I think it’s generally a bad idea for a band to cover them, unless you’re Jimi Hendrix or Mötley Crüe – the covers tend to pale in comparison. Also, there’s this: When I saw Chaplin, a decent film, the best part was the montage of vintage Chaplin at the end. Similarly, when I saw Man In The Moon, it reminded me what an awesome artist Andy Kaufman was, and demonstrated that Jim Carrey is no Andy Kaufman (especially not rehashing Andy’s old stunts that we’ve all seen a million times on Comedy Central!) So, this album succeeds in making me want to listen to the damn Beatles, probably not the desired effect. My copy has some dastardly clicking/distortion; Mr. Vandross, record these at 1x speed. This is good music for Beatlemaniacs who want to induce gran mal seizures, & can be obtained free by contacting thekleptones @hotmail.com. Mark Mallman 10/17/03 @ Atomic by Juliet Legend Randy Newman, Arthur Brown and Prince or Ian Svenonious. |
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Wig Wam Bam (by Captain America PO BX 4865 Albq NM 87196 captainamerica1941@hotmail.com) |
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| Wig Wam Bam is written by Captain America |
po box 4865 | albuquerque, nm 87196 |
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