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8
Sep
2009
A Discordant Kind of Harmony
Friday nights have a certain magic to them. It’s the beginning of the weekend; the work week -or most of it- is behind you, and next week seems so far distant from right now. I don’t normally get to go see music on Friday nights. I tend to work Saturday morning and a band has to be especially tempting for me to suffer sleep deprivation going into a 12 hour shift on Saturday.
There are, however, certain exceptions to this. One band in particular has tempted me out of my Friday night stasis on more than one occasion.
So, the game plan, as it were:
dinner at mina & dimis
watch the Sara Monster (aka Sara Martinez) belly dance -haha, dinner and a show
Clicks for drinks, pool and MUSICS!
On the line up:
Thunderosa
Snake Skin Prison
Destruction Evolution.
Now, I’ve seen SSP and Destruction Evolution before, but Thunderosa was new to me. I did not get the pleasure of seeing them in full as the lead guitarist was not present. Despite the obvious disadvantage, they did put on a decent show. I respect the honesty of the band, and the courage that they possessed to go on with one man down and a less skilled musician trying to fill his shoes. I have to admit that I enjoyed their showmanship. True teaxabilly metal. It wasn’t anything to write home about, but it was interesting.
Then there was Snake Skin Prison. I have seen them several times in varying venues, but I must say, this experience was a little different. As with any band that I decide to like, I have chosen a few favorite songs from their cd and from live performances. I always notice when something changes in one of these songs as it marks progress (and a bands ability to grow and change is ranked among my top 5 requirements for favoritism).
Among these favorite songs is an alcoholic’s love song aptly titled Alcohol of Fame. This particular song has a different preface every time I hear it, from the melancholy to the cocky. Today’s experience was a little different.
As you have likely surmised, dear reader, I am always looking for something different to jump out at me. I am a fan of discord, juxtaposition and incongruity. I must say that this song was made better by the particular tone of discord between the singer and back up. Normally they harmonize, which makes it pretty, but a new layer was added to the experience by the wildly off key and out of tune performance by the singer. It very well suited the tone of the song and the way that the song makes me feel. It was different and surprising, and I liked it.
I take pleasure in a band that is able to continually surprise me, and get me hooked again. Let’s face it dear reader: we all have our addictions; mine just happens to be intangible.
Sadly, I had to leave before Destruction Evolution took the stage; I had work early the next morning. Over all though, I would say that it was a positive experience. If I am not mistaken, SSP will be back in town on September 12.
Assuming I’m off work on time, you’ll likely find me hovering in the front of the crowd and waiting for the music to take me somewhere new.
25
Aug
2009
Beautiful Imperfection
Texas Traxx this Sunday was a bit of a surprise and a bit of a let down all at once. I arrived as Black Dove was finishing their set. I had wanted to see them , and was not disappointed with the little that I did get to see.
SO, intermission, grab a brew and wait for the unheard ofs that were slotted to go on next. Chrome 44 hit the stage like a tornado, full of vibrance and energy and darkness and light. They kept that energy and vibrance up for the entire set.
They had three lights set up around the drum kit and two light boxes for the guitarists and front man to stand on. The three around the kit were arranged just so they blind the audience and make it impossible to focus on the stage. The lights together looked awesome as only a makeshift light performance can; full of charm and ghetto grandeur.
I know that the whole point of the show is that you see the finished picture, but I couldn’t keep myself from focusing on all the little imperfections. Watching this band was like finding a new lover, the general rhythm and concept is the same but everything is different. You see the beauty of your lover’s movements but still notice every bump and imperfection because it is something new, secret and, for the moment, yours alone.
The first thing that I noticed was the lead guitar. The body of the guitar was worn from use. It was a simple wooden instrument that looked like it has travelled and been well loved in its travels. The varnish was scratched and peeling where the guitarist strummed. He broke a string midway through the set and grabbed his back up guitar. The difference was obvious. The backup looked as though it was rarely used and rather neglected. He sat out about half a song tuning it up so that he could continue playing. The guitarist (Ben) turned away from the crowd during the intricate guitar parts. I admit that my opinions are colored by alcohol, but the image I have in my mind is of him dancing with his eyes closed holding his guitar during one of the slower/more melodic songs.
The singer had his own share of onstage catastrophe. He tried to throw the mic and catch it ( a cool trick when mastered). He ended up dropping the wireless mic and singing in the back up mic while fixing the wireless. I give him kudos for being able to sing and fiddle with the mic while maintaining eye contact with the crowd. One of the hardest things for the front man to do is keep a foreign audience involved and entertained. The singer (Sloane) didn’t just keep the audience engaged; he made it look effortless. He kept the energy level ramped up for the entire show, and didn’t even look tired when the set ended.
And then we have the bassist (Tyler). His bright orange guitar had chunks of lacquer missing, but it worked for him. It’s like seeing war scars, you know there is a story there and a part of you really wants to find out what it is. He too made an attempt to keep the energy and the electricity of the show going. He was dancing and jumping and climbing on the light box. He ran from one end of the stage to the other, and made it back in time for the backing vocals. I was tired just watching him.
During all of these shenanigans, the other guitarist (Brent) was dancing, jumping, and running around the stage. The guitar parts were not exceptionally intricate, but they possessed their own kind of charm.
It was obvious that all of the band members were having a good time. They really enjoyed the music that they were playing and the crowd that they were playing for. Two of the band members had to drive back to Houston after the set, but that didn’t keep them from having a blast while they were onstage.
And on top of the fun music and crazy antics and wonderful imperfections, the lead singer decided to do a product toss. He threw a shirt at a table and knocked over all of the cups and beers, right into some poor woman’s lap. Honestly, I think a lap-full of beer is worth a $20 shirt, and she didn’t seem to mind much either.
It seemed that bad aim was just part in parcel of the experience, The drummer threw his sticks a few times, one of which hit a guy square in the back, another one knocked over some drinks. I guess it worked out though, no one seemed very upset about it.
And after all of this wonderful, energizing, raw rock n roll, I’m ready for something “wow”. I mean, after all, this band wasn’t headlining and they got me from the outskirts of the crowd to the front of the stage.
The rushing feeling of the new and the powerful was lost. The headlining band was like meeting an old lover for a tryst: comfortable, but well known and uneventful. All of the songs reminded me of something else I’d heard before. I found myself falling asleep where I stood. I actually did the unthinkable, the unimaginable, I left the show early, went to the bar next door and had a beer.
Why did I break one of my most basic of rules? The sound was too clean, too polished. I cannot deny that the band had talent, and they were skilled in their instruments, but they had no passion. The music was flat- lusterless. I felt cheated. I’d heard of this band, and heard good things of this band.
How dare they betray me by being ordinary?
All of the raw, pure, intense, imperfect beauty of the music was lost. And I remained bereft.
28
Jul
2009
Something Old Something New
The problem with finding new bands is that you never know if they actually rock or if they just put up a good front. A few months back a band came through town that sounded awesome for the first 30 seconds or so, until the guitarist jumped off stage and busted his knee. That intro and one chord sounded absolutely awesome, and I was bummed that I didn’t get to hear more. The same band returned for a second go at it tonight, and I was sadly disappointed.
Don’t get me wrong, the music was decent enough; however, the show could have done without the melodrama. Shortly before the band went on, I saw the bassist surreptitiously take a few pills at the bar. It wasn’t the act of taking the pills that seemed odd, but his method of receiving said pills. He was drinking out of a red cup, which at this particular bar meant that he was not drinking a beverage that contained alcohol. A girl in a blue shirt handed him a few pills from a container in her purse, and he seemed rather intent upon not being seen. A few minutes later, I saw him take the stage for the “check song” and to tune his instrument. He was crouched against the wall of the stage, very much as though the wall was the only thing keeping him some semblance of vertical.
The set began and I thought for a moment that he was going to be ok. He was jumping around and full of energy; it was captivating. The band made it through the first minute and I gave a sigh of relief. The drama didn’t erupt until about thirty minutes into their set.
Before all of the drama with the bassist, the guitarist was shooting secret little smiles at a man in a red shirt. I think that was the only time he smiled during the entire set, and i must say that his appearance was much improved by the difference in facial expression. The rest of the time he was concentrating so very hard that he seemed detached from the crowd and from the music. While this gave him the ability to play his solos cleanly and excellently, he traded his showmanship for his precision.
So, on to the drama. The first thirty minutes or so went off without a hitch. Then, mid song, the bassist threw down his guitar and lay down on the ground. The singer had that moment of “holy hell, what am I gonna do now” and tried to play it off as he checked on his band mate. He joked that the venue was cursed, and went to check on his band mate. He made up some story about a panic attack. After a brief intermission in which the bouncer made her way to the stage, the band decided that they were going to try to finish their set. They had about 15 minutes left, and they played 2 more songs (which only took about 10 minutes).
The bassist was propped against the wall, trying to tune and play his guitar. I don’t know if it was hardcore or just stupid, because the bassist was very clearly messed up on something. I must admit that I felt sympathetic towards the singer. He comes once and the guitarist blows out his knee, he comes another time and his bassist get jacked up on something, and he is left standing center stage looking like the asshole of the century.
Despite the obvious difficulties the band was having, they finished their last two songs and helped their bassist off stage. A few minutes later, as 7P was setting up, two paramedics walked through the bar to the back stage area. For the next 30 minutes or so, you could occasionally see the flashing blue and red through the exit door. The singer was telling anyone who asked that the bassist had too much sodium from beef jerky bought at Buck-ees on the way from Houston and that caused a panic/anxiety attack. I give him props for ingenuity as far as the tale goes, but I doubt that is the actual story.
So, after all that drama from the outta towners, Sever Perfect takes the stage. Now, I’ve been to see this band several times at different venues, and I have to admit that they have progressed a lot since last year at Jack’s when they were competing for the battle of the bands to play at Oyster Bake. Their sound is cleaner and a bit more refined. It’s obvious that they have more practice with the songs that are older, and they are already introducing new music into their set list.
Sadly, they did not play Mexico, my favorite song; however, they did play two newer songs which rocked. They also played a few covers, my favorite of which was Stone Temple Pilots, Plush. Awesome song, awesome cover, and of course I adore the band.
The feel when Seven Perfect plays has changed a lot since the first time I heard them. It’s changed a lot since their cd release party in March. I really hope that this band makes it, and I can’t wait til the next new thing from them.
28
Jul
2009
When The Music Moves Through You (May 10, 2009)
There are bands whose lyrics will capture you, others will catch you with a hook or a melody, and then there are the truly great rock experiences. These bands don’t need a hook, and you don’t need to understand what they are saying, you need only to hear the beat and feel the energy.
I have been to see many bands play live, whether local or mainstream, there are only four experiences that stole my breath and left me screaming for more. Don’t get me wrong, I have enjoyed the majority of the live shows I’ve been to; however, that feeling of being absolutely, unrelentingly, unabashedly engulfed by the music has only been present at a precious few. Tonight was one such experience.
The musical experience that makes you want to cheer and weep simultaneously is something that no amount of money can purchase. An acquaintance of mine recently made me listen to this band through the window of his car; this odd request was followed by him informing me that the band would be playing on Mother’s Day. Now I was in a quandary; I really wanted to see this band, but my mother would never forgive me for ditching out early on Mother’s Day.
Ultimately, dear reader, you know my choice; as I would not be writing about this tremendous rock experience had I chosen not to go.
So, not knowing exactly what to expect, but knowing that the cd sounded good, I ditched my mom early and got ready to rock. The excursion to Scout was uneventful and we arrived in time to see one of the three opening bands. They were a local flavor, and weren’t half bad; however, they lacked the energy and the showmanship which makes a rock show extraordinary.
When Volbeat came on I was in the middle toward the back. I’ve been to Scout before and determined that position to be the best for actually hearing a band. By the time the second song of the set was over I had made my way to the side and purchased their cd. By the time the third song was over I was near the front on the side, just out of reach of the mosh pit and just in reach of the stage. And by the time the fourth song ended I was in love. This music didn’t just captivate, it enthralled. It was one of those experiences where the music moves into you and out of you with all of the tenderness of a rapist and all of the licentiousness of a lover.
By the time the band left the stage I could feel their music in every inch of my body from the tips of my hair to the bottom of my feet. The music had demanded that I jump, so I jumped; that I chant, so I chanted; that I move, so I moved; and that i feel, so I felt. There came a point where I was not standing in the venue with a bunch of people that I did not know, but rather that I was standing in the moment with others who, like me, were along for the journey. I was standing in the moment, begging the music, that fleeting, ethereal, tremulous thing, to return to me – to us – for just a moment more.
The band obliged and played several more songs before calling it a night. A moment more was all we asked, and a moment more was all we got. But oh! that moment! I drove home from the bar and could still feel the vibrations in my fingertips. I put the cd in and blasted it all the way home, so that the moment would linger with me.
In the end, when you go to a rock show you are not going for the band or the crowd or the booze, you are going for the moment. Very few bands can create that moment, and of those even fewer can make it feel effortless. This band managed both with the grace and equanimity of rock stars sprinkled with the down home flair of a band that is not yet mainstream.
As such, I stand in quiescence until the music moves through me once more, and that transient moment returns to me.
28
Jul
2009
Mosh Culture (written Nov 1, 2008)
Yesterday my brother won tickets from Kiss to see Mudvayne, Ten Years, Snot and Before The Bloodshed. I have been to metal concerts before, but I’ve never decided to join the mosh. This evening was different.
We arrived at Sunset Station while Before the Bloodshed was on stage. These battle of the band winners were on fire tonight! There was an electric feeling in the air; as though the crowd were caught up in the music but anticipating the rest of the nights’ entertainment. The music moved through me in a tidal wave of sound. I’d heard of this band before, but never had a chance to see them live. I must say that they were worth the wait and that I wish them well with their future endeavors.
The second band, SNOT, was full of energy and managed to rile up the crowd. I was lucky enough to have a spot near the front where I could watch the band and the crowd at the same time.
The few who were moshing were clearly enjoying themselves, and I, myself, had a revelation. Moshing, while violent and dangerous, is a statement of belief in the ultimate goodness of man kind. The people around you will through you down; knock you out; kick you in the ribs; and throw you in the air. In the end, though, you go into the pit with the firm belief that these same people will pick you up; catch you when you fall, keep you up on their hands until you are ready to come down; and after it’s all over they’ll give you a man hug and go their separate ways.
The sad truths of such energizing shows are the tragic mistakes born from a moment of stupidity. While SNOT was playing, a girl decided that she wanted to crowd surf. Sadly, the people lifting her up pushed her forward instead of back. She went up and came back down with nothing and no one to break her fall. The guys she was with and several strangers carried her off of the floor. I saw the lights of an ambulance a few moment’s later, and I truly hope that the girl is ok.
Through out SNOT’s set, I was not surprised by the violence or the rage; however, I was utterly taken aback by the amount of joy, and excitement, and even love that I felt from the crowd. For this one evening, we were all connected; we were all related. These complete strangers were my brother or my sister or my father or my mother or my dearest friend. There was an overwhelming sense of camaraderie between all of the people there. Everyone was in love with the vibe and the experience and the music. It was symbiotic. The crowd fed off the band and off each other; the band fed off the crowd.
Through all of this, I stood aloof outside the circle. The second band ended their set, and we stood in anticipation, waiting for 10 Years to take the stage.
There was a momentary surge as the band came out, but this band was softer than the rest. The circle became less violent, more bouncing and swaying than the previous melee. The entire crowd moved as one to the singer’s voice, almost like a snake to a flute, and we all sang along as he dedicated a song to all of the beautiful people in San Antonio. We lulled and rose with the beat of the song and the volume of the singer. The pit was no longer the circle in the middle, but an entire mass of people moving, writhing, undulating as one.
The crush of the crowd become oppressive as 10 Years finished their set and exited the stage. People began chanting for Mudvayne. The crowd surged forward and backward and from side to side as everyone jostled for a spot closer to the stage. The mellow feeling from the previous band was lost as the anticipatory vibe became overwhelming. People began to mosh to the background music as the crew set up the stage. I had no choice but to move with the crowd. I was pushed forward, to the side, backwards, shaken almost like a rag doll in the mouth of a dog. There was a man behind me, I’ll never know who he was, that tried to protect me from the worst of it for as long as he could. There was another man who, in his haste to get to the front, picked me up and moved me over as though I weighed nothing. The crowd surged again as the band took the stage. For a few moments I was suspended between the press of people. My feet were more than a foot off the ground and my head was level with a guy who was about 6 feet tall. What could I do but put my arm around him and say hi? I was lowered a moment later, and my legs stayed stationary as the rest of my body moved in a circle with the force of the masses. I was thrown around; lifted up; tossed down; and grabbed and held for a moment of sanity in the affray.
The crushing weight of people moving together and apart in conflicting circles became too much after several songs, and I opted to move back a little bit. There was another circle further back, a stark defined being when compared to the tumult that encapsulated the entire front of the venue. Once again, people were standing at the edge and protecting others from the violence of the pit. Some of the fringe looked like they desperately wanted to join the fracas, but forewent it because they knew that someone needed to contain the pit. I moshed there for a little while, moving to the music, getting knocked down and being picked up again.
Dehydration finally forced me out of the lower levels and up to the refreshment booths. As much as I wanted something alcoholic, I was good and bought a tea. The sheer force of the music was still palpable from the back of the venue. Every beat of the drum and stroke of the guitars, even the singer’s voice, seemed to tear through my already abused body, and it was heaven. The music, sadly, came to and end, and I was there to witness the final mass exodus of the crowd. The symbiotic being now reduced to individuals once more. The air still felt electric, a vague remembrance of the previous revels.
28
Jul
2009
Let Me First Say “Hello”
Hello all out there on the interwebs 
I just wanted to post a quick hello to introduce myself: My name is Autumn and I love rock 
I somehow lucked into getting to write about the wonderful music that I so adore.
For your reading pleasure, I’m also posting a few of my older blogs from myspace I hope you like ‘em!
~Autumn
