Issue # 75 September 2006 thewigwambam.com
Home This Issue Photo Gallery Projects Archives
Ignoring Objectivity Since 1998 WIG WAM BAM “Albuquerque zine of music & nepotism”
LOCAL SHOWS NM venues, bands from here or there
A Black Lux, Abe Vigoda, Alibi Fall Crawl, Beck, Below the Sound, Bitter Sermon, Brothers & Sisters, Cobra//Group, Coldsnap, Five Minute Sin, The Foxx (2x), The Gracchi, Hit By A Bus, Inner Parlors, Lowlights, Mika Miko, Pan!c, Pilot to Bombardier (2x), Potty Mouth Sherry’s, The Prids, Ringo Starr, Roñoso (2x), Sin Serenade, Unit 7 Drain, Upsidedown
LOCAL SHOWS
Beck 6/23/06 @ Kiva Auditorium submitted by Obenjyo I'm a causal fan of Beck but free is free. I haven't been to the Kiva since my stupid brother graduated from Freedumb High, so stupid he failed home school. So what a trip back in time to old Duke City and it felt like a high school reunion (I wouldn't know). Or like a Vegas convention. Of course the scenesters were there but there were tons of random people there. It was like every mediocre party I've ever been to in one building. Filled to the brim full of those white middle class conservative liberals that I have nothing in common with except for Beck. But I don't need Beck to feel connected to black culture, and I think that a lot of these people do. They think he's connecting to their alter-negro but really he speaks to their secret inner nerd. And there were a lot and not really any young kids. It seemed to be older kids. Is Beck not cool with the younger crowd? I thought his appeal was a bit more broad. After waiting a million years for booze, we are running late and he is already on. I have never been to a show where I am constantly flip flopping about how I feel about the show. It was basically a greatest hits show. That's fine, I was told that it was going to be a quiet, low key show. It was not. He was rocking out, now footage I've seen of him he's getting down, but tonight not too much movement. He had hired some Napoleon Dynamite type nerd doin’ all the moves. I don't know, it's lame enough when white people pop and lock and who think (and are )bad ass, but to be ironic when it's not ironic anymore is irritating, but everyone loved it.  But they had a film of the puppets of Beck and the band projected on the back screen for most of the night. Supposedly (from a legit source) that they were made by the guys from Team America. Puppets singing in sync, playing in sync, hanging at the Frontier, Old town, Aztec motel, and in various kalidescoped effects. Very cool and apparently done for every town. But then Beck keeps name dropping Albuquerque randomly all night and everyone loves it and it's bugging me. Then at some point he just played alone and I was getting into it, but then the band sits at a table at the edge of the stage, and I thought what is this LA shit, what is this theatre crap. He joked a bit, and did a cover of Flaming Lips Do You Realize, and then him and the band did a jam where the band played glasses on the table, which should have sucked but it was great. Back to rocking again and at some point two people dressed as bears run thru the crowds, pop and lockin’ nerd brings out various sized ghetto blasters, the puppets sing Loser on the screen so Beck doesn't have to, and a return encore with Aztec dancers from the Hispanic Cultural Center in feathered headdresses. Entertaining all and all and that's the point of live shows, right? I still don't have a hard on for Beck. Ringo Starr 7/2/06 @ Sandia Casino submitted by Obenjyo To see a living rock and roll legend in the flesh was too hard to pass up. But, I had no expectations. In fact I expected the worst. I love Ringo but, the All Star Band consisted of Sheila E., Edgar Winter, Billy Squier, Richard Marx, and Rod Argent (the Zombies). That's sad that I have to put “the Zombies” after Argent's name. It had to be the worst. I never been to Sandia to see a band. The outdoor arena was cozy, the atmosphere and open sky was magnificent. It was lightly raining. I was surrounded by baby boomers and really the only other youngsters besides my friends and I were Unit 7 Drain's Bobby and special lady friend. Ringo came on while we were waiting for drinks. And it was surreal, I mean I'm looking at him like I'm seeing sasquatch or the Loch Ness monster. That's Ringo! He looked great, he's witty, charming, Liverpudlian accent and all. Probably my second favorite Beatle and that's a close second. Hey personality goes a long way. We got seated way in the back and during the second song a lady passed us a joint and then back to her and then back again. She was soon booted out, she ditched the joint under the seat and security confiscated it. We were watched for quite a while afterwards. This added a whole new twist to the show. I remember at one point while everyone was seated, a random hippy was flailing around just like in any archive footage from the 60's. The All Star band is basically a vehicle for all these burnouts to take turns singing. I had no idea what I was in for, so here's the rundown. Richard Marx (sans mullet) is horrible, Billy Squier (sans hair) is a bit better, Edgar Winter (plenty of hair) is good, Sheila E. (relaxed hair) is a bad ass percussionist, I want to know how she got hooked into this. She and Ringo (almost no hair) would double time on the kits during the other songs. Argent (x-tra hairy)did a great Zombies' She's Not There and Hold Your Head Up from his solo career. Unfortunately his voice was giving out but, he did some nice Hammond organ playing. Somehow this was all tolerable, except Richard Marx, just to be in Ringo's presence. I got to hear Yellow Submarine, Boys, Act Naturally, With a Little Help From My Friends, I Wanna be Your Man, Photograph. All great. Just to watch him play drums was fascinating. To watch him sing upfront, just being Ringo was fantastic. A lot of people around us were drunk and lovin' it. It was a great feeling being there, almost like it never happened. Sometimes I'd close my eyes and it was almost as if it were the Beatles. For once, the most unhip people in town were the hippest around that night. At the very least they knew what a rock and roll legend Ringo is. Bitter Sermon 7/27/06 @ Gulp! An accidental attendance and a great surprise. I entered Gulp! for my first time to catch Gywneth Doland’s debut book signing (go girl!) and of course ended up hanging around for libations with other journalistic and musical types. Hours later, a band was setting up and I wasn’t sure what I was in for, not knowing that this quartet was Bitter Sermon, who are known as the Yesmen while backing Bernadette Seacrest. But when they opened, it was revelation from the start: jumping right in with that Booker T. keyboard intro through the cool sax, solid upright and easy drums. And by “cool” I mean the real deal, not hipster cool which is a whole ‘nother animal indeed. It seems to be a rule that the best sessionmen always shine on their own but can take a step back when they’re backing a feature vocalist. Think Booker T’s MGs or the Mar-Keys who made the Stax sound or Motown’s Funk Brothers who learnt their licks long before they supported Smokey, Marvin or the Four Tops. For all their amazing vocal talent, Otis Redding or the Temptations would never have gotten so far without their musicians (and, on topic, top notch songwriters). Witness Aretha’s very first LP, the utterly clueless 1960 Unforgettable on Columbia. What a waste of a young and not-so-raw talent, covering show-biz standards! And although she was supported by vibist Teddy Charles and trumpeter Ernie Royal (Mingus men), it just didn’t click. Luckily for us all and the future Queen of Soul, she was picked up by Atlantic Records, long a supporter of “race” music and rhythm & blues (back when that phrase meant something) by A & R man Jerry Wexler with the full blessing of label head Ahmet Ertegun. They wisely paired her with their squad, the Muscle Shoals Wrecking Crew. Back to the present: I was in heaven throughout the first half of the Yesmen set and ceased talking to everyone and paid rapt attention. The second half was a little too jazzy for my tastes but even so, late-night post-gig jam sessions is where the Funk Brothers -- jazzmen all-- learned their chops. The Yesmen were soon joined by a fem vocalist whose name I didn’t catch but either her output was too low or she was just out-gunned. It was competent low-key low-range stuff in the style of Georgia and Stormy Weather. No matter, I say yes to the Yesmen. I mean, Bitter Sermon. The Prids, The Foxx, Unit 7 Drain 7/29/06 @ Burt's Tiki Lounge Click here to see photos of this show Triple threat! To quote my escort, “I don't remember seeing three bands in a row give such stellar performances! Hell'a show you gave us last night”. Not much I can add to that but you know I will anyway. Unit 7 Drain, always one of my live favorites, ripped tonight. Not in the you-rock devil-horn sign (that ain’t their nature) but tighter than ever and just plain on. Its comforting too in that with the “new” side project (I Is For Ida) and Harry’s and Ella’s newer project, the Downtown Scooter Shop business, that U7D still has everyone’s full attention. Admirable. Me I can barely fry an egg and listen to the radio at the same time. Foxx guitarist Alan is stepping right up ever stronger into his new spot with aplomb, confidence and style. Style is a watchword in glam rock and the Foxx have it spades. Even drummer Ryan is dressing his part these days and of course Juliette is sartorial elegance personified. And fuck y’all, Zac’s fuzzy collars are right in step. I’m waiting for the day his old Phase feather boa comes out of mothballs. It was rockn’glam, start to finish. The dueling guitars of Juliette and Alan filled Don’t Stop to the brim. Its been one of my favorite numbers of theirs since I first heard it on the 7” demos. The cover of I Wanna Be With a Rock and Roll Girl --by Paul Collins’ Beat-- was superb. The incomparable Prids from Portland closed the show wonderfully with their perfect post-80s goth new wave no-wave four-piece sonic symphonies. They’re among the top live acts on the circuit these days and even say Albuquerque is one of their favorite places to play. Given the way most bands breeze through on their way to Phoenix or Denver, that’s rare praise indeed. Don’t take it for granted. And don’t fuck it up--get your butt out the door and patronize the venues with worthwhile gigs. To quote old-time tv star Sid Caesar, this was indeed Your Show of Shows. Below The Sound, A Black Lux, Roñoso 8/01/06 @ Burt's Tiki Lounge Click here to see photos of this show Its never been a secret that the hard n’ heavy is not really to my tastes anymore but tonight there were two out of three local heavies for whom I have nothing love and respect. Roñoso were rocking stomping throughout, the best of what thrash and hardcore stands for (true punk hardcore, not that Slipknot crap). Best of all, there’s no “we’re badass” attitude which is the more badass outlook when you think about it. A Black Lux put on a shorter set than expected but well-done bass/ turntable/ Apple Notebook/ keyboard/ sax grooves, a lot to do for three guys! I dig the scratch work and would love to see more, as these guys do it, integrated into a live show and mixed well. They’re not of the style that gets you on their feet but they do make your brain stand up and take notice. Next, the best overlooked under-appreciated heavy band in town closed my night with sadly one of their last shows after eight years of playing to packed-houses everywhere -- except their home town. What’s your damn problem, people? Below the Sound’s staccato rock anchored by punishing drums focuses on the low-end to all the good. They’ve never been afraid to bring changes to their style, sometimes 180 degrees. They’ve even played release shows when their current music has morphed into something different than what’s on the disc. You never know what to expect except damn good work. With one act to go-- local noise-meister AGL-- I had previous engagements the next morning and so cut out early but I gotta say, Alan never presents anything less than interesting. This was the kick-off for his/Black Lux tour and here’s wishing the best that can be expected for such sketchy endeavors.   Abe Vigoda, Mika Miko, Potty Mouth Sherry's 8/01/06 @ Ralli's 4th St. Pub Roñoso @ Burt's Tiki Lounge submitted by Derelict Caterwaul Normally I'd never set foot in Ralli's, it being one of those places downtown where they "mop the testosterone off the floor at the end of the night," as a friend of mine put it. That, plus two dozen tv screens to choose from as you avoid any real interaction with people. However, times are tough for under-ground shows, and Ralli's ended up as the last resort for this one. Two bands from L.A. were hosted by our own Potty Mouth Sherry's, and as it was a Tues. nite, I figured the crowd would be tolerable. The first band, Abe Vigoda, wasn't too bad, just really young. They had a decent quirky/indie sound, but it didn't work too well with the acoustics, which were really bright and sharp, and the sound guy had them up too loud. I spent their set outside in the beer garden. Apparently the manager/bartender yelled at them to stop early, and was reported as being an asshole to people at the bar, too. Mika Miko have a fun new-wavish/freakgirl thing that reminds me of Erase Errata at times. I think they sounded better than their last show at the PMS house (RIP)- which wasn't bad either, but they've got a lot more practice under their belt. I think maybe one or two of them were of drinking age this time around. Maybe. The two vocalists were styled out in a homemade new-wave look complete w/1960's appliances rewired as microphones (hairdryer & telephone handset, respectively)-very nice! I didn't catch the end of Mika Miko's set because I dashed over to Burt's to catch Roñoso tearing it up as they always seem to do on that stage-- I think they're about due to be Burt's house band already. Kudos to Brian Banks for playing the old St. Vitus album over the house PA before and after their set too! Shortly afterwards, I stumbled back to Ralli's to catch the last half of Potty Mouth Sherrys' set. There was a bigger crowd here by this time, mostly all to see PMS. I got ID'd again by the same doorman, and the bar manager was snotty with me. It seemed pretty clear that the Ralli's management felt like their turf was being invaded by a bunch of weirdos and couldn't wait for us all to leave. The feeling was mutual, for me at least, but not until I got my fill of screechy, raucous girlpunk. Good way to clear the air. PMS have gotten their chops down a lot since they started, and it's vindicating to hear them sound just as kickass as they did when I was sort of "filling in the blanks" in my head, back in the day. Anyways, the Miko's and the Potty's kicked ass, but not without some sour notes on the part of the venue. Adding insult to injury, the jerkoff manager doled out a measly $25 for everyone's trouble. Screw you, buddy. The Foxx, the Upsidedown, Brothers & Sisters, Lowlights 7/8/06 @ Burt's Tiki Lounge submitted by Five O' Clubs Some observations from memory of a show at which Captain A. was conspicuously absent. A typical Tuesday Love-fest at the Tiki Lounge, with Headliners the Foxx playing in the wees for the underemployed, and capping the rising tide of fun with a wash of semi-chaotic "Cabaret-Pop" as I described it to a newbie. I meant it then and I mean it now. But let's go back to the beginning. Lowlights cast a glow alright: not a blinding revelation, but a sweet and soulful take on the best strains of alt-country-pop, and with luminous style. American music with the best lyrical instincts of our Fair Republic. Did I say fair? The Lowlights would have it that way. Brothers and Sisters featured a brother and sister up front and a brother to Sister Jill minding the beat. No surprise that Zac Stardust soaked it up, since it was pure pop freshness, though the west-coast flava, a la Zumpano to my ears, made it strictly foreign to his musical signature. I dug the voice of the fellow with the beard and bandana. Though his appearance presented some cognitive dissonance (I could think only of Brothers-era Carl Wilson as precedent), his pipes were as sweet as any church organ, and the songs were wonderfully sinuous and craftsy. I hear from the best possible source that their craft translates well to disc, and I don't doubt it a bit. Find them on Calla Lilly records out of Austin. The Upsidedown took the stage all in white with a home-made feel to their equipment and clothes (which could hardly be called a uniform, ranging as they did from hot pants to Hippy dress, from school-boy chic to trucker casual). It occurred to me that they would have been the ideal "house band" for the new worlder compound in "The Road Warrior," each perched on an oil barrel. The set started slowly, in a quirky vein to fit the venue. Static and self-contained for the first few songs, the members began to ramp it up as the set progressed. Not so much songs as grooves, the six players settled into each piece with admirable unity of purpose, then rode it like a gathering wave. I liked the apparently off-hand way their offerings were resolved, in the same way that surfers exit a wave after shooting a tight barrel and ripping some vicious cutbacks. The Upsiders pull the ripcord with similar careless panache. And like sets (of waves) do, theirs grew in intensity, pausing for a soft and lush reel as timeless--and fresh--as the green Irish hills, before resuming it's progress, culminating in a party rave-up of mighty proportions. Conspicuous throughout, both by her singing, tasteful keyboards and soulful viola (I especially enjoyed the Echo and Bunnymen-tinged pizzicato work) and by several mentions from lead man Jason, was newest member Caroline, a Burque escapee. These road warriors (they drove straight from L.A.) can be found on Reverb Records. After: The Foxx! The Foxx has always been three or four of my favorite people, so I'm always glad to see them enjoying themselves, and this night found them in fine humor, peddling their patented combination of sonic control and rollicking roadhouse disorder. A necessarily brief set to close out this fat Tuesday lineup, nonetheless the band hit all the notes they're famous for; rave-up, stagger-posed, stutter-steppin' rockers, sweet modulated honky-tonky ballads (with bulls' balls), oddly effective art-punk keyboard chansons, and all with a big fat dollop of high-fructose whipped glam. And as the band careens nearly out of control, and it always seems to happen; as Juliet rolls her eyes and Zac smiles back conspiratorially, I feel a shiver of delight. Alchemy is made in such moments and one need only dance to feed the flames. With an infusion of style and substance in the debonair shape of Alan, the Foxx is now more than ever our private Mod Squad. So pay them homage and dance, you mothers! Alibi Fall Crawl 8/26/06 @ Downtown Albuquerque See photos of this show here Once again dragged to the Crawl, I had a good time in spite of myself. Things started out on a high note as we happened upon the smirking Millard Fillmore boys crossing Central, with numerous six packs of Negro Modelo under their arms. If only they were playing the Crawl… I can hear it now: “Millard Fillmore, under the fourth street stage at 11! ” Wristbands secured, we first hit Burt’s at the ungodly hour of 6 o’clock to catch the ungodly Inner Parlors. Having been a number of weeks since we last we heard them, it was impressive. Their sound was polished up a new bowling ball on a just buffed lane. Ben Action’s voice has improved considerably although his jokes are still somewhat questionable. Not questionable as in bad taste but as in, what the fuck is he talking about? But as for Mr Action’s singing voice, whether it sounded good because it was too early in the evening to have his vocal chords stung by second-hand smoke or just early for him to be too--um--hydrated, who can say. Next, Lowlights have jumped a notch or three as well with the addition of Sean (Oktober People etc, etc) on guitar. Slow and low; not slow- or low-core but the musical equivalent of Tennessee sippin’ whiskey. And third in a row for amping it up, Sin Serenade tore it up like motherfuckers on the District’s outdoor stage with their train-roll pace, pulp fiction surf and tattoo-billy rock. Drummer Marcus knows how to make an entrance: late. Late enough in fact that former-S.S. stickman J.J. Gracchi was on stage ready to take his place when Mr Armijo--behind Airboy goggles-- rolled up in a heavy metal motorcycle rumble. I still think he shoulda been penalized a song or two for tardiness in favor of J.J. Back at Burt’s for Five Minute Sin, I just couldn’t find five minutes of anything I liked of their muscle rock. That’s no surprise since they’re self-described as “Velvet Revolver meets Black Sabbath and Zeppelin”. I want nothing whatsoever to do with any of those bands and their dire ilk. But there was a showing of Five Minute fans so they must have more than meets my delicate ear and my closed mind. Similarly, Coldsnap at Ralli’s left me indifferent, a holdover of hopped-up Hootie-core alt.rock or Dave Matthews covering Mudvayne half-unplugged. I dunno, I’m lost here, grasping at metaphorical straws. To the positive side though, I think Coldsnap draw the kind of crowd places like Ralli’s prefers. Certainly not the next act: The Gracchi. Plain ol’ raw punkrock, long before it splintered into this-or-that-core but post N.Y.-L.A. rivalry. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Gracchi weren’t invited back to Ralli’s. It wasn’t because of anything they did -- well, yeah, Jeffrey spilled more than his share of beers but no, it wasn’t that. It was the jack-off’s in the crowd who acted like moshpit assholes. Oh, excuse me, that isn’t quite fair: there was no acting. These guys were assholes who happen to think fast chunka-chunka-chunka beats are their personal cues to disregard everyone else’s safety & enjoyment and literally throw their weight around, exhibiting their ignorance while being smugly proud of their own stupidity. See, that’s why I prefer not to go to Crawls: too many clueless jerks who have no real love or appreciation of live music but use it as an excuse for their obnoxious antics, whether moshing recklessly, offensively hitting on equally vapid club girls or merely being loud and rude choads. They may as well be at clubs with canned music. I know, I know, I’m a bitch. So what? You wanna play in our sandbox? Then don’t piss in it. Good thing Pilot To Bombardier were at Atomic next otherwise I’d have sworn off Crawls forever after that shit. There was a time when I defended emo in these very pages. This was long before every damn band in town and every damn band touring through town was some godawful permutation of the genre that was mercilessly distilled from early, solid practitioners like Samiam or Discount (their styles distilled from Fugazi who in turn were distilled from early second wave hardcore bands like Minor Threat). Pilot To Bombardier were always at the top, like local Kings-of-the-hill, the other similar bands in a crumpled pile at the bottom. Some might take issue with me tagging Pilot emo but in my mind, that tag belongs to the style of music, not subject matter or wanky sad-bastard music. To me it’s the soft to hard transitions, the angular timing and interrupted melody that forms the genre. No apologies to anyone who doesn’t like the term: the Ramones didn’t like being called punks. Big deal. After getting my fill --and then some--of this style long before Pilot called it quits years ago, it was with trepidation that I approached this set. But it was having enjoyed many a Pilot show back in their day that made me stick it out through the Crawl to the reunion. It was worth it. They picked up where they left off , even stronger musicians after all the other bands & projects they’ve been individually involved with in the intervening years. It was a solid and superb cloud-pleaser, not discounting the nostalgia factor of the youngsters in the crowd i.e. anyone fifteen to twenty years younger than me. That covers quite a bit of ground… Pilot To Bombardier 8/26/06 @ Atomic Cantina submitted by Betty Co-ed Anna to Bombardier... Despite my pleading for a road buddy, I was forced to make the long haul solo. Although I realized there's not that many people I would want to spend 12 hours in a car with....with about three hours of sleep, I got up Friday morning a little after 5 and was in the car by 6am with a quick stop at 7-11 for some cappuccino out of a machine. I amused myself with some mixes I had created for the trip and the thought of seeing Beerfest with my brother.  After an unsuccessful search for a Wendy's through most of Arizona, I settled on McDonald's. I giggled at the vanity plate that said clearly TWEAKER.   Past median fields of yellow and violet wildflowers, I rolled into Burque as the sun was setting. The mountains were shaded by clouds and the golden light of the fading sun gave the city a majesty that will be hard to duplicate. I made it in time for the movie, most of which was filmed in Albuquerque.  My friends little brother was a stand-in on it and a handful of people I know worked on it as extras, and a few with bit parts. If you go see it, my friend Jillian is the gorgeous blonde sitting on the couch playing "I Never". I awoke Saturday with a jitter in my stomach and a bounce in my step. Pilot was a band I got into while I was discovering not only the local music scene, but the whole indie rock scene in general, in early college. I loved them. I dated them.  I went on tour with them. I lived across the street from them (okay, that was just coincidence). I’m pretty sure I still have the flyer from the first Pilot show I ever went to....Launchpad summer of 2000. Liam's last show with them... Anyway, Summer and I had late breakfast at a downtown coffee shop and while we were gossiping, who shows up but the man of the hour, Travis Williams. Travis, the phenomenal drummer and vocalist for Pilot to Bombardier, the band I drove out to see. He made a comment to imply that he didn’t actually think I would come back for the show. Bah. I killed some time in the afternoon and finally showered. I fussed with aesthetic decisions and finally it was time to go!!!  Like always, I was on my own so no one to pick up or be made late by. Lowlights at 7, a nice way to ease into the possibilities of making out with five entire bands, tucking my skirt into my underwear, puking on the ATM and grabbing the ass of someone who was in fact, not Laura. Now none of these things actually happened, but one never knows on a night such as this. Anyway so Lowlights was a nice way to sip the first beer and get excited for a night of rad local rock. Sean was playing bass and I bought him a beer. Sean plays wicked guitar for Pilot to Bombardier (and Oktober People, Weapons of Mass Destruction...). Miguel was a dick when I tried to say hi, but oh well.  Ben met me outside and we walked down to Collette's new apartment. I had a hole in my band schedule so it worked out perfect. Neil walked me back to the strip and I made my way to the district for the Build/Unit 7 Drain. I caught a few songs of each but I was anxious for Pilot, I split really early so there would be no chance of me being caught in line while the band started. I bought another beer and gave another round of hugs to the folks inhabiting Atomic Cantina. Soon it was time. Now in their relatively short time in the grand scheme of local bands, I caught as many Pilot shows as I could but I was underage for most of their tenure...and those late afternoon all-ages shows at Insurgo or what have you were a little lackluster now that I look back. Because inside what was the most crowded venue I had been in that evening were scores of other rabid Pilot fans like me. They sang along, they rocked out, they stared in disbelief as Travis managed not to knock himself out.  In spitting distance were James, Ian, Tim, Tone, Stuart, Jesse, Daemon, Alex, Brett, Jamie, Rachel, Levi....people I love all brought together by music I love. Sounds kinda lame, but the understanding that everyone there was having as great a time as I was, really fuckin’ did it for me. The bliss just bubbled up inside me. They were as good as I remembered. Better really cause the passion, the energy...something is lost in the recording. I've never enjoyed hearing Fireseason more; never really been a fan of that song but I loved it on Saturday. This is what music is about. A few people seemed unimpressed or in slight disbelief when I told them what I had driven out from LA for. But it was worth it.  More than worth it. The best show I've been to in months and months and months. The last measures of Rise and Shine were bittersweet...that frenzying, frothy guitar and that one drum fill I love and then its over. And you know it's over. Cause they always end with it.   Ian said he felt humbled. I felt tired and high and giddy and I wanted more. A lot more. And I was glad I had listened to myself. The moment I heard this show was going to go down, the wheels in my head started to turn about how to make it happen. Because I knew I had to be there.  And it was worth the two days of driving.   I hope everyone has a band they love this much. Pan!c, Hit By A Bus 9/1/06 Launchpad See photos of this show here We made an appearance at the New Mexico Rocks Pin-up Calendar Premiere Party show to show solidarity and uh pick up on the cheesecake. Now, what half-nekkid ‘burque rocker chix has to do with Hurricane Katrina survivors I can’t say. Unless it was the fact that the amount of clothes worn by each of the girls made ‘em look like they too had lost everything, home and wardrobe. The last few songs we witnessed with Pan!c’s new guitar player were pretty good, especially since it was his first gig with the band. Some bass-heavy (yeah!) punkyroll, complete with a cover of Ring of Fire, pre-Johnny Cash Tribute show (9/9 at Atomic and Burt’s). Well done. While wandering around for autographs and the usual random drunktalk camaraderie, Hit By A Bus was up with their hard and hardcore-ish dual-fem low-end vox call and response. Not my particular cup o’ java but anytime the word “hard” shows up in my biased reviews here, that’s a given. A full stage and a full crowd up front spurred them on. We however were spurred to giddyup to our next engagement…. Cobra // Group 9/1/06 @ Atomic Cantina See photos of this show here Sporting about 13 or 14 members of the extended collective tonight, the avant noise ensemble Cobra // Group looked like a symphony orchestra setting up on stage; more personnel than your average ska band! Soundman Blue made a valiant attempt to keep all these miscreants and their cacophonic assault under control. The sound was good considering how many mikes, pedals, fx boxes and the like were onstage. When they started I thought all the lights in town would dim, like those old James Cagney prison movies where some mug gets the electric chair and the pen goes dark for a moment. The din created by the Cobras made you feel like you were indeed being electrocuted, churning all your vital organs and inducing flashbacks of your life before you head to your heavenly-- or otherwise-- reward. Conductor/Ringmaster Raven Chacon stood before the Group, directing their dynamic, attack, volume, direction and who knows what else the average mortal can’t discern. He was like Arturo Toscanini on methamphetamine. That conductor’s biographer (Harvey Sachs) wrote that Toscanini “believed that a performance could not be artistically successful unless unity of intention was first established among all the components: singers, orchestra, chorus, staging, sets, and costumes.” My guess is that this is only part of what’s going on here, with thunderbolt inspiration, scatter-shot improv and the blind luck of the draw thrown in for good measure. Band members added as well as took direction in the spirit of a true collective. One of the trombone players encouraged audience participation as a guy in the crowd muted his instrument for him. For a little while, Chacon stepped onstage to play guitar (that was incongruous sight!) while another Cobra conducted. Wearing a ski mask, Raven looked somewhere between Marvel Comics’ Juggernaut and a campfire lit Yei. The entire collective also had masks, from fancy & feathery to papery cut & paste to stocking-over-the-face burglary. One song -- or rather--one composition was presented as the entire set. Although there was a beginning, middle and end, its hard to say in what order they appeared. Apropos of nothing, I think Cobra // Group ought to produce some downloadable ringtones…
Wig Wam Bam (by Captain America PO BX 4865 Albq NM 87196 captainamerica1941@hotmail.com) gives me something constructive (destructive?) to do and may (or not) be found whenever I damn well please at the Launchpad, Burt’s Tiki Lounge, Atomic Cantina, Natural Sound, Harlow’s On the Hill, the Silver Board Shop, Free Radicals clothing & accessories, Abode furnishings & sundries, mecca Records & Books, Newsland and in the finest recycle bins citywide.
Wig Wam Bam is written by Captain America  | po box 4865 | albuquerque, nm 87196