Show of the Month

The Brett Rosenberg Problem / Eli “Paperboy” Reed and the True Loves / Yoni Gordon / Monique Ortiz

The Middle East Upstairs
Cambridge, MA
July 21, 2006

Those in the semi-restless Cambridge crowd stopped dead in their tracks when first act Monique Ortiz took the stage. This usually happens when an iconic performer picks up his or her instrument, but this first set featured not just Ortiz on her trademark fretless bass, but also Boston’s eminent baritone saxophone man, Dana Colley. Behind the two sat yet another distinguished performer, Larry Dersch. Almost as if an invisible, slow-motion fuse had just run out, the burn of the trio’s sound began to spread throughout the club. The members of the group melded together into a throaty mid-level growl, between the sliding quarter-tone notes of the bass, the distorted snarl of the saxophone, Dersch’s sizzling fills and Ortiz’s powerfully expressive voice. Ortiz displayed an impressive and expansive vocal range, from her cruising-level female baritone to a gritty howl. Wondrous things happened to the group’s sound when Ortiz pushed the vocal energy envelope. On the other side of the stage, Colley’s overdriven saxophone tone made it sound like his reed was on fire. Giving perhaps one of the more inspired brass performances that may ever have taken place (at least until he plays the Middle East again), Colley’s sax-afire perfectly complemented Ortiz’s dark voice and sinful bass lines.

After the set, a single guitar amplifier was placed on the club floor, a few feet in front of the stage. A skinny man with a beard ran through the crowd, clapping and stomping in rhythm, sharing his message with every member of the audience. “Oh yeah, oh yeah!” sang the man with such gusto that the crowd, which had grown to shoulder-tapping dimensions, was compelled to join in. At this time, the man strapped on his hollow-bodied electric guitar and started pickin’ up a storm. Yoni Gordon, it seems, doesn’t play “gigs” or “sets” like the rest of the world — he holds full-on, foot-stompin’, sing-songin’ revivals, and the crowd was signed up and sticking around for refreshments. Almost an entire circle of people stood around the lanky singer, fluctuating to make room for his energetic duck-walk style moves. In between songs, Gordon verbally whipped up the crowd with his almost evangelical interstitial talk. Everyone crouched obediently when he instructed them to “get real low,” and the smiles in the crowd were more visible than usual, thanks to Gordon’s plea to bring up the house lights. Gordon even threw in a few covers with inspired versions of Johnny Cash’s “Long Black Veil” and Bruce Springsteen’s “Thunder Road” to close it out.

The next band, the True Loves, thunked and thumped along, and Eli “Paperboy” Reed stood behind the horns waiting to make his big entrance. Sure enough, saxophonist Ben Jaffe leaned into his horn mic, calling out a James Brown-esque introduction for “Eli! Paper! Boy! Reed!” and out swung the Paperboy, already smiling his trademark squinty smile, shaking his head as he stepped up to his old bullet-head microphone. As tight as the seven-piece True Loves are, Reed’s vocal style is loosey-goosey and as free flying as his fingers on the fretboard. He has a downright magnetic stage presence, and any who may have smirked at his Johnny Cash wardrobe or James Brown introduction were sucked right into the moment as sculpted by the Paperboy’s dynamic vocalizations. Alternating big notes and high falsettos, all peppered with a few soul-screams, is a normal day at the office for Eli Reed, and the crowd was a mass of clapping, singing humanity — they were so eager to join in the Paperboy’s act that they would sing along to anything possible, at one point latching onto a four-count because they at least knew the lyrics to that. The rubber-voiced Paperboy delivered in grand style, an extra-special Friday night edition of the good news, the headline of which was called out during the initial introduction: Eli “Paperboy” Reed was here to show people what things were like in the primordial days of rock, when things were still linked indelibly with soul and free human spirit.

Next up, of course, was Brett Rosenberg and his duct-tape adorned Fender Stratocaster. The Brett Rosenberg Problem was also notable as the one band with the standard lineup of guitar, bass, keyboards and drums. The sound that came from the stage was straight-up, high caliber rock music. Rosenberg really brings each solo alive, making his Strat talk like he taught it to back home. As one of the strongest and most emotive guitarists around, he did not disappoint with this late-night Upstairs set. No quarter was asked or taken; the Problem even covered the Beatles’ “Day Tripper,” with Rosenberg offering a flip Lennon/McCartney shout-out. At the end, the band kicked and delivered a set of hooky rock, rife with rock ‘n’ roll poise, personality and plenty of pinch harmonics, courtesy of the man with the duct-taped Stratocaster.

-Review by C.D. Di Guardia; photo by Marianne Bolduc

Mission of Burma / Hooray for Earth / Neptune

The Paradise Rock Club
Boston, MA
July 13, 2006

With the release of a third full-length album, The Obliterati, Mission of Burma has cast off the unfavorable “reunion” label, as evidenced by the thoroughly sold-out crowd at the Paradise on July 13. The band officially kicked off its national tour in Boston (excluding a July 1 performance at Mass MoCa in North Adams) and the hometown crowd welcomed the legendary quartet with open arms and fists pumping. The mixed-age crowd that swarmed the front of the stage as the venue’s doors opened demonstrated not only Mission of Burma’s unmistakable mark on the post-punk movement, but also the band’s ability to remain influential as a now modern songwriting outfit. With Bob Weston currently in the wings as the unseen loops/synth man, Mission of Burma displayed a precision and rabidity that seems to have the band perched over a generation of listeners eager for transformation.

Hooray For Earth, the night’s opener, provided a clear glimpse into the near future of Boston’s music scene, blissfully charged with dynamic and ardent young performers. In an electronica-infused strike, HFE blistered through material from its forthcoming self-titled debut album, a work that was allowed to fully stretch its legs on this night, thanks to the live performance abilities of the Boston quartet formerly known as Raymond.

Art-rock trio Neptune followed, with an arsenal of metallic objects and tangled wires in tow. Perhaps more notable for their visual intrigue, members of Neptune donned a square guitar and bass before exploring the limits of their instruments’ abilities. The drummer, having broken his wrist the night prior, quickly earned the crowd’s respect after refusing a cast and playing with what was obviously mind-numbing pain. Highlighted by percussive improvisations and atonal synth bursts, Neptune’s performance was, if nothing else, a lesson in the artistry of rock.

Not an inch of space at the Paradise was sacrificed for a glimpse of Boston’s post-punk heroes as Mission of Burma took the stage. Despite the palpable pulsating of the crowd, ready to explode at the first chord, Roger Miller chose a more subtle introduction, as if to multiply the pleasure the band, as well as the audience, when the moment finally arrived. It might have happened when the epic “That’s When I Reach for My Revolver” shattered the room; regardless, the group performed immaculately for its two-set show, having lost none of its staple aggression or raucous volume to date. -Will Morgan; photo by Mike D.

Seekonk / Lewis and Clarke / Strand of Oaks

The Red Door
Portsmouth, NH
July 10, 2006

From the first step into its dim interior, one is given no choice but to love the ambiance of the Red Door. It’s an ideal venue in which to see a show. With its cozy leather couches, cocktail bar and candles, it provides the perfect level of familiarity and comfort.

This particular night, as part of the Hush Hush Sweet Harlot series that plays every Monday at the Red Door, showcased outfits Strand of Oaks, Lewis and Clarke and headliner Seekonk.

Hailing from Wilkes-Barre, PA, Timothy Oaks, aka Strand of Oaks, opened with what may have been the best performance of the night. He played a short, stripped-down set that included great songs such as “End in Flames” and “Mourning Worker.” Oaks, who exuded a very powerful presence, quickly quieted the crowd as he began to sing.

“I don’t need the mic, I sing pretty loudly on my own,” he announced. His music was strongly reminiscent of pop psychedelics Holopaw, with a dash of Damien Rice thrown in for good measure.

After assisting Oaks on the mandolin and keyboards, fellow Pennsylvanian Lou Rogai took the stage as Lewis and Clarke. He began his set with a simple tape player acting as a tranquil backing track, which he overdubbed with his own keyboard and voice. After playing a few selections in the same fashion, he then grabbed his acoustic guitar and set up for a most intimate show — an unplugged set in the middle of the audience. With deep, engaging tunes, he got the crowd very much into his music; during his final song, “Bare Bones & Branches,” Rogai was able to get the entire venue singing in unison, belting out the verse, “You might not like it at all / if you don’t know how to fall.”

Portland natives Seekonk, fresh off a five-week national tour, was the final band to take the stage. Listening to the band perform, it was difficult to believe that frontman Dave Noyes once played trombone for the late, great Maine giants, Rustic Overtones. Easily the mellowest group of the night, Seekonk skillfully blended ethereal melodies and serene vocals, reaching out to the audience and capturing its attention for the entirety of the set. At one point, the band members played musical chairs with their instruments, a la indie experimentalists Via Audio, exploring the limits of the raw sounds created by someone with less (or uniquely different) proficiency on a given instrument. The set was flawless and engaging until the final song, when the slide guitar drew a bad connection, ruining the sound balance. But rather than simply unplugging the guitar and maintaining the integrity of the song, the band continued on, trying to ignore the ruinous noise that put a kink in an otherwise solid night. -Christopher Hislop

The Beatings / Kudgel / Polaris Mine / Pending Disappointment

The Middle East Upstairs
Cambridge, MA
July 14, 2006

The slow influx of people into the Middle East Upstairs made it seem like opening band Pending Disappointment was starting almost too early, but the room started to fill right up upon guitarist Greg Lyons’ first slash through the strings of his left-handed Stratocaster. His left arm, covered from shirt-sleeve to wrist in heavy black-inked stars, whip-sawed through his strings at almost every turn in the music. Across the stage from him stood bassist Frank Lewis, his “normal” Fender bass an almost mirror-image of Lyons’ guitar, same color/pick guard scheme and all. Between the two and behind a drum kit sat the wild-sticked Paul Lourenco. Having a three-man lineup gives the audience a clear view of the drummer, and Lourenco did not disappoint at all, despite the band’s name. The entire group seemed given to fits of furious syncopation and wild lock-step — the segments arising from a generally combustible sound, then coming suddenly and without warning. The trio would rip through a song, then stop and start up again in vicious unison, Lewis and Lyons always leading the way with their powerful sing-shouting. Lyons’ saw-tooth guitar work was a standout point of the set; he clearly knows exactly how to play — he also knows when to play. The group’s easy onstage banter brought a sense of ease to the crowd, which quickly warmed to the inaptly named Pending Disappointment.

Polaris Mine is a stupendously normal looking bunch. Singer/guitarist Jordyn Bonds, resplendent in white tank top, stood at frontwoman position, flanked by bassist Greg Boss and guitarist Joel Roston, who also chimed in on vocals. Bonds, who looked like the office girl upstairs, was clearly the focal point of the band, providing the most onstage energy. The group started the set meandering about the stage, both physically and musically. The players each moved in and out of each others’ spaces at random, with no premeditated orchestration or choreographed musical arrangement. Their standard cruising altitude seemed to be just coasting over a floor of noise, which would flare up from time to time into their sound. Many tunes ended with a drawn-out note from Bonds, a precocious sound in the face of the waves of saturating noise that marked part of the group’s vibe. The diminutive front woman was also capable of upping her own volume, commanding attention from the crowd, which was locked in on the stage through the entire set.

The Beatings set up with the same basic lineup, except this time the woman standing center stage was holding a bass. Each of the front three members of the band had a microphone. Erin Dalbec stood in the middle, flanked by two guitarists: the sharp-featured E.R. and the looming figure of Tony Skalicky. The Beatings don’t have a “lead singer,” per se, as the three traded songs for the duration of the set. Sometimes it was the fiery scream of E.R., sometimes the reflective baritone of Skalicky, and sometimes the “I-sing-like-a-girl-but-I-can-also-get-real-loud” vocalizations of Dalbec. The members of the Beatings do not make a lot of personal audience contact — they interact through their music, which is powerful and hooky. The two boys sawed away at their guitars, causing distorted fireworks on either side of Dalbec’s solid bass playing. The song “Pennsyltucky” featured Dalbec’s full vocal range, from her breathy “Don’t go far” voice to the whooping holler that she adopts for the second half of the song. The crowd was tuned in to her performance and reacted strongest to this song. The group asked a few “extra vocalists” to join them onstage for the final part of the set, which featured Dalbec leading the small choir in shouty choruses and fist-pumping anti-anthem, a hallmark of the Beatings’ sound.

Who better to follow a band called the Beatings than a band called Kudgel? The four members of Kudgel started off the evening’s set with a few technical difficulties, which delayed the start of the performance. One thing that was not a technical difficulty, however, was the placement of vocalist Mark Erdody’s microphone. He had his stand set down all the way in such a manner that the mic seemed a scant three feet off the ground. Erdody stood hunched over the microphone in such a way that his back must have been killing him after three songs, but if there was any physical pain associated with this stance, it was channeled into his swarthy vocal performance. Erdody explained that Kudgel hadn’t played for ten years, but the band’s marvelously brutal set made it sound like ten days. The blunt-object noise style of Kudgel placed a cracked exclamation point at the end of the evening, punctuating a night full of different treatments of the clatter-rock genre, and sating a crowd of noise-hungry fans. -Review and photo by C.D. Di Guardia

El Gringo / Hansen Sisters / The Colt Thompson Project / Shades and Whispers / Alpha Juliet

O’Brien’s Pub
Allston, MA
July 26, 2006

The heat extended from the muggy air through the spicy food to the hot tunes at the Kiboze BBQ Battle of the Bands at O’Brien’s Pub in Allston. In an unusual twist, the battle featured both culinary and auditory cuisine from five up-and-coming area bands.

A crowd had already gathered when opener El Gringo appeared onstage. The set began with a steady, solid beat from drummer/singer Greg Moon that eventually flowered into a bluesy rollicker about good whiskey. Feet tapped and hips twitched around O’Brien’s — an impressive showing for 7:30PM and one beer. El Gringo barreled ahead, piling on the down-country harmonies and making up for a deficit in lyrical creativity (many songs repeated a single refrain ad infinitim) with musical inventiveness. The ska/reggae tinged “Quarterback” found the band mixing a patchwork of bass and electric guitar with violent acoustic strums, then later ripping in Led Zeppelin-style with high-tempo drums and screaming guitars. El Gringo’s culinary offering, surf-and-turf with homemade guacamole, was delicious.

“We’re the only chick band playing tonight, just so you know,” the guitar-strumming Hansen Sisters told the audience at the start of their set. Indeed, the band added a hint of gentleness to a rough-and-tumble evening. Taking cues from both the Indigo Girls and Dixie Chicks, Karin and Kristin Hansen charmed their way through folk, country and rock tunes alike. The sisters excelled especially in their covers: a stripped-down, gorgeous “Angel from Montgomery” rang clear through the pub, while Little Feat’s “Willing” started an honest-to-goodness sing-along across the bar. The Sisters’ “heavy metal honky-tonk chili” was excellently seasoned — but a little cold.

After the breather provided by the Hansen Sisters, the Colt Thompson Project arrived to get the bar’s pulse going again. Doling out healthy helpings of chunky, meaty alt-rockabilly, the band served up steaming guitar solos a la Santana under the vinegar growl of eponymous lead singer Colt Thompson, who belted his best half-Buckcherry/half-Black-Crowes stylings from behind aviator sunglasses. The Project sprinkled its set with tastes of other genres as well, from the funky grooves of “Talk Too Slow” to the bluesy “Running on Fumes.” A cover of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ “Running Down a Dream” was note-perfect but spiced with country grunge. And the blackened chicken quesadilla and salsa the band served up was just as fiery as its guitar solos.

The judges, unfortunately, missed most of Shades and Whispers’ set, as deliberation over the food portion of the contest took place. (El Gringo’s was the evening’s eventual winner.) What was heard was instrument-focused melodic rock, with adventurous guitar and intriguing uses of quiet and loud in the vein of Nevermind-era Nirvana. The outfit’s final song, “Static,” employed a harmonica for a “home on the range” feel that went well with the ribs the band presented as its dish.

Alpha Juliet played last, performing hard-hitting pop punk with an almost religious enthusiasm. The sheer thrill of playing — made clear by the lead guitarist’s grin the size of the Wal-Mart smiley face — was contagious. Alpha Juliet seemed like what Alkaline Trio might have been like in high school, with more teen angst and bigger lungs. Sometimes cacophonous, always harmonious, the band occasionally leaned too much toward yelling, but in a deeply-felt way. And though sometimes the two-vocalist trick can backfire, Alpha Juliet made it work wonderfully, as the two tossed verses back and forth like, “Tell me what to fight for / tell me what’s the life for.” Set highlights included a beautiful breakup duet and a fun, jammy piece that showcased rich harmonies and each singer’s vocal range. Singing and jumping up and down so much that the band’s collective feet may not have touched the floor once, Alpha Juliet was loud and sweet and wanted the audience to know it too.

The band’s “sloppy deuce,” a vegetarian sloppy joe dish, epitomized the night as a whole: loud, flavorful, laidback and possessing a winking sense of fun. -Review and photo by Alissa Greenberg

Mieka Pauley / Harriet Street / Uncle Shaker

Paradise Lounge — “Rock Against Lymphoma”
Boston, MA
June 17, 2006

There were two trucks parked outside the Paradise for this Saturday night benefit. One was a pickup truck, full of hippies and acoustic guitars. While this seemed like a novel way to get one’s band a spot on a bill at the Paradise, it was simply opening band Uncle Shaker warming up. The reason they were doing this outside was the fact that a large red truck with several flashing lights bearing the words “Boston Fire Department” was also parked in front of the Paradise, and no one was going inside until the firefighters finished their set.

Once the Lounge was ruled free and clear of any hazardous materials and/or perilous situations, the bands and the crowd were finally let inside. Uncle Shaker, despite having attracted the attention of an inquisitive cab driver, also came inside to set up. Marching their instruments inside the door and onto the modest Lounge stage, the members of the group immediately set to work playing their Tom Petty-tinged jam-rock. Lead vocalist Jeff Foss had a Neil Young thing going on for a good portion of the set. Southern-but-not-really, Uncle Shaker plays not necessarily with a twang, but with more of a barefoot drawl. The highlight of the set was the group’s effective usage of varied instrumentation; not just hippies with djembes, but an actual, fully functioning pedal steel.

Second act Harriet Street had a decidedly more urban sound to its set, and a very direct approach in the aftermath of the more laid-back first set. Frontman Brian Cassagnol was very emotive on the microphone, sometimes even dramatically so. The group seemed accustomed to playing more raucous rooms than the intimate surroundings of the Lounge — large amplifiers being carted in send shockwaves of fear through the Lounge regulars, as do full drum kits and the possibility of multiple-person bands. Sonically subdued yet still emotionally expressive, Harriet Street brought a little bit of fire to the evening.

Due to the earlier delays, the hour was growing late at the lounge, and Mieka Pauley did not step on stage until well after the originally announced time. Pauley is a paradox on stage; a strong presence that belies her diminutive stature and gentle speaking voice. Pauley’s vocals echoed around the hollows of the room, haunting some, charming others, and getting the attention of everyone else. She played some songs with a backing band and others all by her lonesome, but it barely mattered — all were listening intently to the song and the voice singing it. Pauley, who has been compared to practically every female vocalist in the world, has a sharp and breathy delivery, equally capable of deep reverberating tones and high, striking ones all in the space of the same song. As far as “benefit” shows go, this evening was not just a benefit to those suffering from Lymphoma, but also a benefit to anyone within earshot of the intriguing, silver-voiced Mieka Pauley.

-Review by C.D. Di Guardia; photo by Marianne Bolduc

Seana Carmody / The Texas Governor / Most Bitter /
Little Wooden Men

The Red Door
Portsmouth, NH
July 24, 2006

Another Monday evening, another installment of the Hush Hush Sweet Harlot music series at the Red Door. This particular evening boasted an eclectic bill featuring Vermont’s Little Wooden Men, New Hampshire’s Texas Governor and Boston’s Most Bitter and Seana Carmody of Swirlies fame.

Little Wooden Men began the night with its take on acoustic indie rock, with tunes based around the simple chord progressions of lead vocalist Forrest Muelrath and backup harmonies provided by the other band members. Unfortunately, Little Wooden Men seemed a bit uptight (stiff, if you will) as if the band couldn’t get into its own music. The mood lightened, however, when the tom drum hit the deck and the drummer rhetorically exclaimed “If anybody has a brick on them...” This sudden show of character from the band drew laughter from the attentive crowd that afterwards began to clap along to Little Wooden Men’s folk wizardry.

Up next was Most Bitter (AKA Jeff Breeze). Playing various instruments — from keys, to children’s toys, to a briefcase Wurlitzer type thing — Breeze constructed engaging loops and kept the crowd locked in for the entirety of his set. He was joined onstage by a friend from college, whose exemplary bass play pushed the compositions along smoothly. Breeze was passionate about the songs he was performing and made it a point to interact with the crowd between songs, introducing the next piece with a brief history of its meaning and origins. At one point, Breeze, adorned with a lobster bib, stood and held on to the Red Door’s beams while singing a tune in his Tom Waits-esque voice (minus some of the scratchiness), voicing over a cut played through a discman.

Seacoast favorite The Texas Governor took the stage next and proceeded to play a wholly different set than the first two artists. Dave Goolkasian, who had just gotten over the flu, suggested that the group was going to do a mellow set of “acoustic songs played with electric instruments.” The “mellowness” of the set lasted about as long as the tugs Goolkasian was taking off of his Jim Beam bottle in-between songs (cough medicine, to be sure). The Governor ripped through a set of upbeat tunes, highlighted by “Shortwave Radio” (the opener, and only mellow rendition of the night) “Faith, Hope, Love,” and a little Van Halen to end the night. Goolkasian climbed on to the couch up front and swung from the beams while doing his best David Lee Roth impression. Frankly, the band’s version was better than the original (minus the mic crapping out towards the end).

Seana Carmody rounded out the evening after a nostalgic memoir given by Goolkasian about the time she lived in Boston and everyone knew the code to her apartment — where many parties were subsequently held. Everyone seemed ecstatic to listen to the former Swirlie sing her songs, and she did not disappoint. Carmody’s tunes were mellow, her voice powerful and soft all at once. Her guitar playing was precise, with constant head bobbing and finger tapping not only from her, but from the engaged crowd as well.

-Review and photo by Christopher Hislop

Listen to MP3s from this show!

The Texas Governor

Seana Carmody

Little Wooden Men

Most Bitter

Thanks to Most Bitter for providing MP3s.