Issue # 76 December 2006 thewigwambam.com
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Ignoring Objectivity Since 1998 WIG WAM BAM “Albuquerque zine of music & nepotism”
The Wig Wam Bam Rock and Roll Birthday of the Month: December 21, 1921: Alan Freed, "the Moondog" The first white disk jockey to successfully cop the small-time black dj's act and promo rock n' roll (formerly known in the biz as "race music") to white teenagers. Freed famously went down in flames for accepting label bribes to play the latest records (an industry standard at the time and not actually illegal). Meanwhile rival Dick Clark, who also accepted "payola" to plug records, came out looking as pure as the driven snow. Freed died a bitter, broken alcoholic in 1965.
LOCAL SHOWS NM venues, bands from here or there
668, The Ashes, Asobi Seksu, The Black, Black Maria, The Booty Green, Bud Melvin, The Dead Electric, Foxx (2x), Geoff Reacher, The Grave of Nobody’s Darling, Inner Parlors, Lou Reed, Lousy Robot (2x), Lowlights, M., Madeline, Mammal Eggs (submitted by A.K. Oss), Mei Long, Millard Fillmore, The Mindy Set (2x), Neptune, Oktober People, Q’s Revenge, Rap, The Rod Shot Band, Roger Waters (submitted by Little Bobby), Romeo Goes To Hell, Serpent’s Whisper, Sleestaks, Trilobite, Unit 7 Drain
LOCAL RELEASES NM bands, any label
Unit 7 Drain Lists (2006 CD) Socyermom Records 668 self-release "bootleg" (2006 CD-R) Jasper Brown The Plan (2005 CD) Little Kiss Records Exxtra!  Foxx CD Preview!
EX-LOCAL RELEASES Ex-NM bands, any label
The Reformation The Floral War (2006 CD) June Records Caleb Miles Brickyard Road (2006 CD) self-released
LOCAL SHOWS
Neptune, Millard Fillmore, Mammal Eggs @ Albuquerque Center for Peace & Justice submitted by A.K. Oss The Albuquerque Center for Peace and Justice has become one of the hot spots for incredible all-ages underground shows. Tonight was no exception. Being my first time seeing 'burque's own Mammal Eggs, I had some expectations of way -out eclectic sounds. That was merely the tip of the iceberg. ME's performance was on target and showed a breath of expression and range of emotion that was simply epic! With acoustic guitar (often distorted), overtime drums and keys, and superb violin stylings these folks were reminiscent of John Zorn's Masada endeavors that included powerful changeups which conjured up Neurosis. I look forward to more from this incredible trio.   Millard Fillmore aka Menaul Sorrow aka Pig Heart aka Fando are unpredictable. Their sound is different from show to show. In a word they are sibyl. I have seen them as cacophonous art rock, as pure punk noise, even as a tight heavy sludge where I was convinced they had become possessed by the Melvins. Here they teetered over the edge and proceeded to body slam those whom listened. The songs were dripping with dissonance and chaos that threatened imminently to lose control, but never did. Vocals were guttural punk rage to buried psychic murmurs. My only gripe was the drums often got drowned out.   Neptune, hailing from Boston, are a fine and tight mesh of post-punk and noise. With Albini laden hooks and the early 80's Chicago "industrial" flavor, Neptune rocks. Understand, these guys make their own instruments. From minimal machines that go bump and blip in the night to full metal guitar modeled sculptures. The kind that Gwar wishes they had! Thus tones and disparate melodies abound and are completely unique. Their high energy power pummeling performance was inspiring. The rhythms make one want to thrash about, perhaps even pogo. When they dropped the two ton guitar machines, I for one basked in the lo-fi rhythmic analog noise music that ensued. Get online and find yourself a copy of any of their CD's. Be sure to let them know 'burque wants to have them back before another five years go by (last time the played was in 2001 at Smooches!). These guys rock the noise.   Bud Melvin, M. 9/2/06  @ Evoc Gallery Rap, the Booty Green 9/2/06 @ Burt's   A night of homegrown off the beaten path beats coming at'cha from all directions. I started directly across the street from much-missed all-ages space Insurgo (R.I.P.) at Evoc Gallery. Its mostly an artspace but like any good artist, is willing to push the boundaries a bit by hosting shows that are avant noise/experimental or whatever you want to call compositions that don't consist of verse-chorus-verse. Opening was M, a member of A Black Lux with a little ambient, a little classical, a little of this and that, and little symphonic movements accessible even to those who aren't used to this kinda stuff. Nice. Next we had Bud Melvin with his patented Mario Brothers banjo riffs, sounding like an electronic Tom Waits covering snippets from John Fahey's 1963 Death Chants, Breakdowns and Military Waltzes LP. Cool. Too bad I had to bail before set's end to catch the Booty Green downtown and their androgynous electro-dance beats with a touch of black eyeliner and runny mascara. Low key but powerful in its own way. Finally I caught mixmasters Rap which consisted of two electronicats, heavy on the beats ala dance punks adult. but as if Felix Da Housecat was laying out hip hop flow in the background. This duo goes for the big rig outfit with no less than four keyboards and tons of f/x shit in a wiring system more complex than NASA's. In all it was a good night for me to broaden my musical horizons a little although I'll likely favor the typical guitar/bass/drum line-up the rest of my numbered days. Old dog, new tricks, etc. The Inner Parlors, Sleestaks 9/13/06 @ Burt's The Serpent's Whisper 9/13/06 @ Launchpad At Burt's early, we caught the Inner Parlors' rollickin' riffage: straight-up catchy and crunchy, fun and forthright, surf n' turf, make-it-a-double bar room rock. Next, it was a quick zip over to the 'pad for the Serpent's Whisper -- heavy, heavy doom metal that we just had to see since Greg Fukrot was part of the line-up. Unbeknownst to me however was that the Whisper featured on vocals Second Grade Ray, the one responsible for booking many of the first punk shows I ever saw in Albuquerque ten or more years ago. Ex- Smug, ex-Pork Is Pig and ex- a bunch of other stuff, it was a surprise to see him up there with a howling metal screech instead of whoa-oh-oh choruses. The style doesn't do much for me but it was good to see some of my old buddies in a new configuration. Next, it was back to Burt's for the venerable Sleestaks and their straight-up muscle-car an'  mag-slicks rock. These guys never heard of emo but dish up tales of truck drivers, whores and rot gut booze. Not taking themselves seriously, some of their material seemed to me a bit throw-away but I was smacked upside the head with Cigarettes and Regrets-- a down-on-your-luck love song, one that would make you forget to flick your ashes and just let them grow longer over the already overflowing ashtray. It was beautiful, especially in contrast to the other rawk n'roll they served and I'd gladly take a stool next to these guys, buy 'em a round and even light their smokes for a chance to hear more songs like this. Lou Reed 9/16/06 @ Santa Fe Opera I bought (expensive) tickets by knee jerk reaction, Lou Reed, I gotta go! but afterwards realized how little I know of his work: the first Velvets record which I love and a bit of his later Berlin stuff, all of it thirty to forty years old. Other than that, I have no idea. And since he's worked on and off over the years and this wasn't a comeback show, I didn't expect Reed to play stuff he's likely been tired of for decades. The songs most like his old stuff were the high point of the show, low as they actually were. Lowest of the low was his reading of Poe's The Raven, an utter waste of time all around. During some onstage crud, Ben Action's aside to me, (If we were seeing this at Burt's, we'd walk out) was dead-on: we stuck it out because it was Lou Reed, not because it was any good. Since my expectations were low to begin with, I didn't hate it like most of our crew but neither does that mean I enjoyed it. Even Waiting For the Man sucked, played because it was expected and it showed: rote. The true high point however was Opera tail-gating with friends before and after the show. Its just too bad we had to spend hundreds of dollars to do so. I think next time, we'll just go tailgate and skip the show. Lousy Robot 9/19/06 @ Ford Pavilion, NM Fairgrounds Ah, nothing like an early evening State Fair set to show a band who their friends and supporters really are (ahem). Fifteen or twenty people in attendance including the sound tech who, disinterested, looked as if he'd rather be running the system for the All American Rejects. Treated to a fine set were in-laws, friends, well-wishers, hangers-on and a stray family who happened by looking for a place to sit and eat their Dippin' Dots: Tomorrow's Ice Cream Today. A sparse crowd also lets a band show just what they can do, with or without massive audience feedback. Lousy Robot-- my band of today and tomorrow-- delivered the finest in shiny happy heartache, like breaking up with your girl on the carnival midway. It was rather disheartening for me (and I'm betting a band member or two-- no names please) to see the beer tent less than a furlong away and neither tent nor music pavilion accessible to one another. So near yet so far! Roger Waters 10/3/06 Phoenix AZ submitted by Little Bobby Pink Floyd is and always will be my favourite band. Having seen Pink Floyd twice in 1994 and Mr. Waters in 2000, I gladly drove all night to Phoenix with my friend and lived my life looking forward to this evening. After a long strange trip.... Roger walked on stage with a life energy that shot through me and most of the smarter primates around with lasting effect. He then played... In The Flesh, Mother, Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun, Shine On You Crazy Diamond Pts. I-V, Have A Cigar, Wish You Were Here, Sheep, Get Your Filthy Hands Off My Desert, The Fletcher Memorial Home, The Final Cut, Perfect Sense, and a brand new song about killing children that was dedicated to George W. Bush. Then.... Intermission.   I was reminded that this was the show of a lifetime. Second half of the show was... The Dark Side Of The Moon , the whole album, all the way through. Complete with CG animation of brains filled with pills which were filled with brains which were filled with pills which were... .....and on and on. Until I realised that life and death are a simple choice that we are blessed to have had the opportunity to choose between. Never so happy and sad in my entire life. Laughing at the various shades of trailer trash around me and crying real tears for most of them as well.   Finish it off with Another Brick In The Wall Pt II, Vera, Bring The Boys Back Home, and Comfortably Numb. Did I mention the part where a giant (75 ft. at least) inflatable pig that floated over head w/ lasers on it? The pig had printed on it, in very large letters, "IMPEACH BUSH, NOW!!! Habeas Corpus matters.... a lot!!!" With all the dead schoolgirls and pedophiles for congressmen in the news lately, it is easy to forget.  But Roger Waters remembered and now I remember too.... LONG LIVE AMERICA AND WIG WAM BAM. WISH YOU WERE THERE,  Little Bobby Unit 7 Drain Unit 7 Drain, Romeo Goes To Hell, Oktober People, Black Maria, Lousy Robot, the Dead Electric 10/6/06 @ Launchpad The Dead Electric opened this night with their first show as a beat heavy electro trio. There were hassles at the soundboard and the band was a little rough to begin with but in all, they sounded like it was a fourth or fifth show rather than first. Next was Lousy Robot, one of my reasons for living, if the music scene was life. They were beautiful to tears as always, and this time nailing down a good bit of rock along with the pop. Songwriter Jim Phillips is going to have to resist being signed away from the band by money-hungry record label honchos, like Janis Joplin signed away from Big Brother. Lucky for us, the rest of the Robot is indispensable to the entirety. Whew! I'd hate to see Jim drink himself to death on Southern Comfort like Janis. Umm, Maker's Mark, maybe! In stark contrast, Black Maria cranked up the noise factor to brain-crushing level. And we like it. Any other doom/stoner/ whatever band falls by the wayside when these rock giants trample them into the dust. And they like it. Up next, Oktober People built on the excitement by delivering a majestic set with nothing lacking, the promise of indie/emo fulfilled rather than frittered away like Lou Barlow's next side project. Wonderful and magnificent. Next I saw Romeo Goes To Hell for the first time in about eighty years and they didn't let me down but upped the rock factor. Noelan Moon does some incredible stuff, being the powerhouse drummer in town bar none. And finally, finally, finally, I could clearly hear my man King Dogg on the keys. Oh happy day! Closing the show was oh yeah Unit 7 Drain. After all the other sets I almost forgot that this was their CD release show! Always spot-on, they showered us with a stellar set as if inspired by all the previous band goodness. Chris Newman pounded the fuck out of his drums tonight, as the rest of the band soared to new heights with lovely new material. Overall, a superb night. The Rod Shot Band, Q's Revenge 10/13/06 @ Sonny's Bar & Grill 668 10/13/06 @ Atomic We ended our night at Atomic for 668's CD release show of searing iron-in-the-forge AC/DC riffage. Crowd pleasing, but me, I'm a fan of Dom's other outfit Dead On Point Five, musically much more complex and challenging than the hair-whippin' jams of the new group. But Dom has paid some dues so if he gets acclaim from a hard rockin' audience en masse, who am I to argue? I'll never get off on 668 the way I do DO.5 but anything with Dom at the helm is more than worthwhile. And the rest of the 668 crew is tight and fire-breathing in their own right. Gotta admit, I banged my head a little. To start the night, we stopped by the Sonny's Bar farewell swan song. I've always felt vaguely guilty for not going there more often: a local dive frequented by outlaw types and raucous rawk bands. But then again, its not my scene anyway and neither am I theirs. Still, its sad another venue's vaporized leaving not only their scene but everyone else's the poorer for it. Meanwhile, our town looks more like Scottsdale every day, a new mall is major news on every TV station and gee whiz maybe Mayor Marty's streetcar desire will revitalize that strip on Central where Sonny's used to be. Yeah, right. It was fitting however that I made it in time to see the last show by the Rod Shot Band, Mr Shot being the one that got me over to Sonny's in the first place to catch the Impatients long ago. Tonight the Band was stripped down to a trio: mesmerizing keyboarder Freddie Raygun manning a guitar instead, the reliable and gentlemanly Chris Valencia on drums and Rod on liquored-up vox and git-box. I couldn't think of any other band that would have been a finer farewell to the joint. Unless it was the rockin' Q's Revenge, reunited for a Sonny's send-off set. Too bad I got there in time to hear only a few rompin' songs but it warmed my jaded old heart since I'd met Quatro through none other than Rod way back in the dim drunken past. In any case though, my scene's lack of Sonny's patronage over the years had nothing to do with its closure. They got along fine without me, thank you. Harassment by the city's goon squad in the form of unnecessary fines and nuisance pestering finally drove the owners to say the hell with it, we're going to Colorado where we own another joint anyway. Mountain-climbin', downhill racin', granola-sniffin' Colorado more hospitable to a neighborhood dive than Albuquerque? That thought makes me ill. Here comes the non-music related rant. If you don't care, skip ahead a page! Development, face lifts and new buildings are supposed to bring revitalization to our fair city. On the face of it, this sounds good. Crappy crack whore/pimp infested neighborhoods are nothing to wax poetic about, nor are they a worthy romantic cause celebre of the downtrodden by those who misinterpret Bukowski. Desperate people living in ugly squalor is no cause to celebrate. Meanwhile new lofts downtown remain empty and un-purchased because who in their right mind would spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to live where there's no infrastructure for a viable neighborhood teeming with citizens, day workers and shoppers as there used to be years and years ago? Neighborhoods need decent & affordable housing and reliable public transportation to nearby groceries, laundromats and medical services. Nearby I said-- not a jolly trolley to the mall to support mega-corporations and buy useless junk no one needs today and will tire of by tomorrow. A handful of jobs at Sharper Image is not economic development. Sure it puts a few more dollars in a few more pockets --I wouldn't deny that to anyone--but is ultimately unsustainable economically and environmentally. Economically unsound because its unreliable: dependent on maintaining a class of people with money to waste ($$= time and energy). Environmentally unsound because it promotes heaps of unnecessary stuff, most of it imported, increasing our nation's debt for what? For junk that will shortly end up in the landfill anyway, all at the expense of energy, resources and fuel. What's the answer? Simple housing, food, goods, services and transportation in reach of everyone. But as profit from a sensible endeavor rarely does more than support itself, there's no investment potential hence no investor. Hmmm. All this from a simple bar closing? That's merely a symptom of the problem but the problem itself is merely a symptom of misguided human greed. Yikes. Is it really that hopeless? If it is, I sure could use a cold beer in a cozy dive right about now. the Foxx, the Mindy Set, Lowlights, The Ashes 10/17/06 @ Burt's  Finally a new band with some rock n' roll promise: the Ashes. Gotta admit, knowing 2/3 of the band I expected a bit more soul and groove than what sounded to me like the Ramones versus Bo Diddley at Liverpool's Cavern Club circa 1963. But it was a rock n' stomp affair from the get go with frontman guitarist Joe Martinez jumpin' jack flash all over the place and Obenjyo pounding phat rudimentary beats with the fat end of his drumsticks while the bassman kept the rhythm nailed to the floor lest it get blasted away. A great start with great promise. Next up, Lowlights too were high energy. I think someone spiked Dameon's sippin' whiskey with a handful of diet pills. While it remained twang, it was amped as if Sun Records was founded by coked-up time-traveling post-hippie southern Californians but with better musical taste. Someone kept tossing a pair of panties at Dameon, just like the old Scared of Chaka days when he was irresistible in those powder blue leisure suits and irrepressible scissor leaps. And yes I promise this will be the last Chaka reference in my Lowlights reviews and to overlook any indiscretions of his irresponsible --and Masonic--youth. The Mindy Set turned it up into the red tonight, more rockin' than ever. Always better than I recall, never seeing them as often as I should, the Mindies made me happy start to finish. Joshua Williams lays out the prettiest basslines you could ever hope to hear. He's hands down the best bass player in town. If you're not paying attention, its easy to overlook the gorgeous subtlety of his work, perfectly complementing Matt Dickens' elegant guitars. And I say guitars rather than guitar because Matt's style and echo/fx settings make him sound as if he's duetting with himself, like playing in a room full of audible mirrors. His voice has just enough of an edge and fits the material perfectly. And speaking of material, these two boys are dapper dressers but with a quiet flair; or is that wearing a pair of flairs? And the drummer? Her name is Jill Rocks and she has such fine control you're tempted to think its easy. Its not. The beats are right on and the rolls & fills perfectly placed. Besides which, she's fun to heckle: Jill turns just a lovely shade of red when embarrassed on stage. We have pictures to prove it! And to top it off, the mighty Foxx signed, sealed and delivered first-class glamrock and roll. Slade notwithstanding, glam was never much known for just letting it rip, but for keeping the performance (no matter how over-the-top) and technique under control. But when the Foxx is full on, a little pull-out-the-stops action/slop fits their couture well, like trousers with just a hint of extra room in the seat or a generous underarm gusset in a tight-fitting suitjacket. And just in time for Alan to soon depart the band (what?! oh nooo!), we could finally hear his guitar at its best. Juliette matched him perfectly in a scorching guitar duet during Don't Stop. Even Sad Desperation --never a rocker -- romped like a sweet blockbuster. Meanwhile drummer Ryan Rail, Esq. and bassman Zed Stardust hammered the bottom end into submission. The more you listen, the more you realize that-- besides the Foxx, no one else plays glam anymore, not really. See 'em while you can. Your chances are fewer. You've been warned! EXXTRA! Foxx CD PREVIEW! I just got some rough trade; er, I mean, rough mixes of the untitled upcoming Foxx release. They ARE glam, top to bottom and side to side. As much as I loved (and still love)ex-Foxx Isaac Bonnel's work, its always identifiable as his, unerring pop sensibility and all. Now with Juliet Legend penning their material, the band is as Top of the Pops glam as her clothes closet -- which I'm willing to bet is bigger than my bedroom twice over. As much as Zac might disdain the comparison, it's like the Sweet covering ABBA. Or Bowie as a trans-sexual Marc Bolan. A way less creepy Wizzard! Recorded into the wee morning hours with cheap champagne and cheaper wine, keep an ear out for this release-- analog mixed and mastered by Gris-Gris guru Greg Ashley. The sole thing it lacks in glam is a bit of horn section, alas. If it's this stunning in the rough, polished it will gleam like Agnetha Fältskog's pearly whites. Madeline, Geoff Reacher, Trilobite 11/3/06 @ Albuquerque Press Club Trilobite opened this evening with slo-core folk melancholia that, quite honestly, lost me somewhat from all the tunes having similar timing, rhythm and vocal delivery. Its curious that modern folk musicians --in honoring old time tunes -- have mostly picked a point along the folk spectrum in which to nest, unlike the actual folk in question. A hundred years ago, people sang to make hard labor go a little easier, keened their laments on evening front porches, picked hoe-down on dance hall Saturday nights and musically cried for forgiveness come Sunday morning. Every style for any mood rather than a narrow partition. What really coaxed us out the door tonight was, guesting on sweet and vaporous violin, our new pal Ginxy Jessica Billey, yay!! The vocals of ex-Shine Cherries (R.I.P..sniffle.) Michelle Collins' are always beautiful but here took harmony position to songwriter Mark Ray's equally quiet and unassuming voice. Michelle's theremin was a treat although it would've been wonderful if she really let it fly. True, things can get out of hand quickly with very small hand movements on this early electronic instrument but what the hell. I'd like to see Trilobite take a few more musical chances anyway. Come to think of it, their tuba-as-bass is one chance that many No Depression bands have taken. Not one I personally care for but it certainly stands out. Out of Atlanta, show closer Madeline was similar in a way--not musically but by playing it safe stylistically. Slinging a guitar and backed by a pint-size drum kit, she sounded like a young Joni Mitchell singing with an early Joan Baez register and the indie songwriting sensibility/vocal delivery of Tanya Donnelly and Velocity Girl's Sarah Shannon. In other words, sweet capable vocals, thoughtful lyrics but nothing new or out on a limb just safe in the rock-a-bye cradle. I've dozens of grrrl rock and pop records, familiar enough to me to look for something truly original. Much like Donnelly --who I adore-- I'd prefer Madeline's work punched up with some jangly guitars ala Belly or Throwing Muses. Between Trilobite and Madeline though was the surprise of the evening, Mr Geoff Reacher. Accompanying himself on guitar, horn samples, synth loops and real-time track switching (incredibly well done), Reacher delivers raga-disco video-game hip-hop blues n' beats. Clever (but not cloying) lyrics complement it all topped by the fact that the man knows his way around a fretboard. He's like nothing you've heard before and grabs you by the ears from note one. Reacher jams a musical Q-Tip deep in your auditory canal to ream out the years of accumulated crap. And much like going to the doctor for a deep ear cleaning, what you hear afterwards--what Reacher plays-- comes across with startling clarity & acumen and messes with your balance --your safe rut-- a little bit. Just a couple of days prior, I was complaining to someone that I've heard nothing in ages that was new or inspired, and allowed that maybe it was just me: an old jaded know-it-all. The latter may be true but Reacher is new, inspired and very, very good at what he does. Like he says, he plays for keeps and damn I wish I’d have said that first. The Grave of Nobody's Darling, Mei Long 11/20/06 @ Atomic Bedeviled by sound system glitches, Mei Long suffered a rough mix throughout but lucky for us, the material transcended most of the troubles. The first couple of numbers with Mark solo were problem free and showcased his smooth pleasing voice and two more of the wonderful eight-hundred-and-three songs he's got scribbled in piles of notebooks. Quietly redoubtable Kerianne joined next. Sadly her guitar was all but inaudible for most of the song until the sound gods were placated and it kicked in, providing a lovely counterpoint to Mark's playing. Finally, Carlos grabbed his bass and Kerianne climbed aboard her new drummer's stool, further fleshing out the compositions. This transition sort of showed how songs progress from bedroom strummers to full-blown performance, although the drums even when played with brushes overshadowed the low volume of the guitars and vox. The Grave of Nobody's Darling sounded nothing like the quiet gothic folk mp3s I'd heard and I was sorry not to hear them that way. But I was in no way sorry to hear what I did. To quote local and astute music aficionado Mr Six O' Clubs, it was rock and roll as if rock and roll was invented during the Civil War. And maybe some postbellum rather than antebellum. There's not much I can add to that assessment. I'm out-classed. Searching for new challenges, putting down her classically-trained violin for the night, Jessica took up a nice sunburst electric guitar and offered purposefully meandering excursions across the frets with Mason-Dixon belle by way of Chicago vocals. Her singing at times blended so deep into the mix as if another instrument that it took some doing to concentrate on the lyrics. Ahh, levels of vox, more than meets the ear. Drummer Stuart played what is often the hardest thing for a drummer to do: accompaniment for low key music while remaining an integral part of it rather than mere rhythm. For a few numbers he wielded what I'd never seen before: drums sticks that were actually bundles of thin sticks providing a brush-like effect but brighter than the swoosh-swoosh of typical brushwork. Besides short excursions on keyboard and electronically tortured banjo, Bud Melvin spent most of his time on ghostly pedal steel. That instrument that can be played either as twang cheese-whiz or as blissful beauty, depending on who's wielding the slide and pumping the pedals. Lucky for us, he's in the latter camp. Although the two sound nothing alike, I'm reminded of Jerry Garcia's unique style in that both he and Mr Melvin avoid Nashville convention but instead play the steel as if it were an instrument without a country and western history. Speaking of history, none other than Mrs Melvin --not her real name, to protect the innocent --or something like that--was on hand to tell stories of her son Bud's musical nativity. Not his real name either. But let's just call him "Bud". Rebelling early at piano lessons in favor of exploration of the ivories and later the banjo, that attitude is apparent in every musical project Bud's involved in. With that bit of insight, its no surprise that Nobody's Darling sounded nothing like those mp3s I previously heard. Mrs M. relates that Bud had an earlier band with the same moniker but it was too good of a name to leave behind. I agree. Grave of Nobody's Darling is too good of a band--and name-- to go unheard. I'm told a CD is someplace in the works. The sooner it appears would be the better for us all. Asobi Seksu 11/28/06 @ Launchpad I'd heard a good tune or two a year ago from New York's Asobi Seksu on stolen mp3s so I figured it worthwhile to catch them opening for Mates of State. I don't regret going but let's just say I was glad the all-ages show started while I was seated upstairs overlooking the stage, beer in hand, because I soon saw no reason to leave my seat. Seksu had a powerful beginning quickly trashed by technical difficulties. Singer Yuki Chikudate even threatened to start with the same song all over again. Fuck that. Just get on with it, please, thank you. They were back up and running in no time though and played Sooner, the beautiful quietly-soaring tune from their self-titled 2004 release that first caught my ear. It proved to be more powerful recorded, as I suspect is the case with most of their stuff. Despite some lofty instro breaks from the quietly sweet vocals, it never took off but merely became louder. Although Pavlovian audiences take volume as their cue to enjoy a show, louder with little substance beneath rings hollow. Overall Asobi Seksu's stuff was plagued by sameness. Chikudate's vocals were gutless compared to, say, mistresses of Brit shoegaze dreampop Miki Berenyi or Emma Anderson, both of the much-missed Lush. I kept thinking they were playing their last tune when they'd start up with another song; or was it the same? I couldn't really tell. My ears pricked up though hearing the opening riff of And Then He Kissed Me, a number one hit in 1963 for the Crystals, penned by Phil Spector and the great Brill Building songwriting team of Jeff Barry & Ellie Greenwich (second only to Gerry Goffin & Carole King with Barry Weil & Cynthia Mann close behind). A great opening, it pumped up Asobi Seksu's song with a different energy that they'd not exhibited before and a different tempo. Finally, the song gave way to a full-blown cover, making me a happy boy because (1) I love the old girl group sound and (2) the set was over. I knew it wouldn't get any better than this. The CD promo for the headlining Mates of State I got in the mail lost my interest two and a half songs in so it was time to bail and get home by ten o'clock for a change. I was hoping I'd be impressed by something new since little I hear these days gets my attention anymore, old geeze that I am. The Mindy Set, the Black, the Foxx 12/8/06 Burt's Oh woe is us! This night was the last ever set by the mighty Mindies and if rumor be true, pretty close to the last of the Foxx. Bracketed by these two locals, Austin's the Black did pretty well but for those of us drowning our sorrows in abject misery, it was difficult to get too revved up about anything. I arrived half-way through the Foxx, sadly missing the newest material. Fraught with feedback, it seemed a glum affair: low key rather than pumped up with glitter power. The Black brightened my mood a bit though because during tuning I recognized the guitarist riffing on Robbie Robertson's opening to The Band's The Weight. That 1968 tune wasn't played however but throughout their set, I kept hearing echoes (not rip-offs) of many classic songs like Memphis, Tennessee or some obscure Carl Perkins number played with a Season of the Witch locomotion or Robert Hunter and Jerry Garcia's Deal. Speaking of the Dead, the Black boys rolled out an extended Truckin' style jam at set's end unlike any I'd heard from comparable indie rockers. Luckily there appeared to be no psychedelic drugs involved. Overall, they were quite good, the singer's voice exquisitely attuned to their neo-twang rock. I hope to see them again but when I'm not ready to kill myself like I was for the final Mindy set. Quite a beautiful and stately way to go, it was altogether different than ever before with Matt forgoing most of his swirling riffs in exchange for chopping out rhythm guitar, leaving Josh's bass out front as the melody instrument. Jill kept the beats on target as always but had no response to the usual antics from the crowd designed for her merriment: this was serious business. They closed with finality with In My Apartment, somehow fitting as this would've been their signature song if they'd only gotten the extensive airplay they deserved. I'm still pissed off that the Mindy Set was never showered with lucrative recording contracts. Was it better after all to leave with quiet dignity rather than as the next big thing hyped on the cover of Magnet? I don't know but I'd like to have seen it nonetheless. The Mindies are gone but they leave a hell of a good looking corpse. (p.s. anyone hear from ultra Mindyhead Carl Frinkle? I hope he's ok)
LOCAL RELEASES
Unit 7 Drain Lists (2006 CD) Socyermom Records http://socyermom.com I had the hardest time getting past the first track of this latest release from U7D. Nope, no technical glitch but I just kept pressing "replay" because Traitorous Heart grabs your auditory nerves tight and takes them to orchestral heights. There's a neat little nod to the Unit's side project I Is For Ida since Heart's chorus is a sped-up musical quote from Ida's K Is For Killers. Nothing like sampling your own music; no lawyers to muck about with! After a zillion releases, this is by far my favorite because its the one that finally equals the finely-honed machine that is Unit 7 Drain onstage. Throughout, this release shows off professional standards: recorded, mixed and mastered by the venerable Tim Stroh of Stepbridge Studios. Occasionally a rough edge suits the music but there's too many local self-mixed releases that to-- put it bluntly-- sound like crap and make you wanna toss the disc out the window. To paraphrase the Hallmark Cards slogan, If You Care Enough Why Not Send the Very Best? Unit 7 Drain does and so does Mr Stroh, resulting in one of 2006's top local releases. 668 self-release "bootleg" (2006 CD-R) Not the official release by one of the 'burque's latest cockrock outfits but a personalized preview/demo handed to yours truly by frontman Dominic. I'm told by those in the know that there's a big AC/DC influence here but what the hell do I know. Actually, what I do know is that on CD, 668 comes across more straight-up rocknroll than the metalism I hear from them live. I've made it an ironclad practice over the years to never pass up anything that Dom's involved in and its always paid off. 668, this "boot" and the real release are worthy and its obvious they're having fun cranking out the jams. I'm having some fun too but my attention begins to wane before set's end, not from lack of musicianship (which is top notch) but my own lack of love for the rawk. This will tide me over but I'm waiting for Dom's next Dead On Point Five release. Jasper Brown The Plan (2005 CD) Little Kiss Records http://www.littlekissrecords.com/ This is a wonderful twang gem courtesy of the Little Kiss Records family who boast a roster of some of Albuquerque's most-talented -- and most-overlooked-- musicians, song-writers and production engineers. The label can be summed up in one word: taste. The Plan opens with the title cut, the most optimistic look at the world through the bottom of a whiskey bottle I've ever heard. Or is it..? Listening to its quiet brilliance, you can smell cigarette smoke curling from an unattended ashtray. The rest of the CD falls right into place with Jasper's deep and dry vocals leading the way, bolstered by Jeffrey Richards fine guitar work that I could recognize with my eyes closed. Taking turns on drums are Ryan Martino, Heath "Testy Kool" Dauberman, Dan Camera and Mr Richards. Jack Thompson pulls bass duty and we're served up a sweet treat with Freddie Raygun (who also mastered the recording) in a keyboard cameo. The Plan is one of the best CDs I'e heard lately. Brown's songwriting has an understated radiance and is as comfortable as a long broken-in pair of cowboy boots not quite worn through the sole.
EX-LOCAL RELEASES
The Reformation The Floral War (2006 CD) June Records http://www.junerecords.com Not sure why I like this one so much as its of a style I'd pretty much opted out of years ago. Or maybe that's just it. Without being derivative, I'm reminded of such outfits as The Young Adults (the old Albuquerque band), the Spinanes, Mary Lou Lord, and the Archers of Loaf: jangle pop without jangling your nerves like some too-poppy pop does. Its nothing new but in the hands of Westin Glass (ex-Mistletoe, another '˜burque band) comes across as refreshing. There's an occasional hint of emo-style but only a passing nod and not the full blown rocking-without-a-cause that finally killed that genre for me. The first half of this release especially crackles before settling down a little too quiet but a great half is more than many bands deliver these days. Caleb Miles Brickyard Road (2006 CD) self-released http://www.myspace.com/calebmiles An impressive one-man show here: all instruments & vocals, mixing, mastering and even the dang photos. Of course, Caleb Miles has always been impressive ever since I first laid eyes and ears on him jamming leads here in Albuquerque for Illegal Aliens in the early 80s when he was still a teenager and I was the ripe old age of twenty-two or three. A few years later, he was doing the same in F.O.R. and later A Murder of Crows, all of them a big pot of hippie-folk-punk saturnalia stew. This self release (Miles says "no, thanks!: to record labels) found its way to my mailbox from his home in Novia Scotia and covers the spectrum from further-on-down-the road twang to dirty country blues to cosmic boogie roots. Besides guitar, Caleb also knows his way pretty well around bass, drums, piano, organ, mandolin, banjo, sitar, pedal steel and dobro. I'm not sure I've ever heard a one-man-jam record before that sounds this seamless, meaning that Miles accompanies himself as well as he does with a live band, no mean feat. This CD is worth tracking down for Caleb's smooth picking, pleasing vocals, comforting lyrics and musicianship as tight as The Band. That last is about as high a compliment as I can give.
Wig Wam Bam (by Captain America PO BX 4865 Albq NM 87196 captainamerica1941@hotmail.com) is issued when you (or I ) least expect it and may (or not) be found whenever I damn well please at the Launchpad, Mecca Music & Books, the Silver Board Shop, Natural Sound, Free Radicals clothing & accessories, Burt's Tiki Lounge, Atomic Cantina, Abode furnishings & sundries, Newsland and local pro bowling shops for all you keglers.
Wig Wam Bam is written by Captain America  | po box 4865 | albuquerque, nm 87196