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Guided By Voices, Crystal Stilts

Irving Plaza

New York, NY

July 11, 2014

Photo courtesy of Gerald McBoing-Boing

See Guided By Voices before you die.  If you already have, see them again.  Any GBV show is bound to be life-changing.  It’s about witnessing one of music’s most devout fan bases in motion; it’s about experiencing bawdy frontman Robert Pollard’s signature onstage banter; but most of all, it’s about absorbing the vigor and passion of one of history’s most prophetic bands.

Guided By Voices’ setlists contain just under 50 songs (each track is usually around two minutes in length), and shows include a whopping three encores.  No matter what stage they exit from, a relentless crowd will always be hungry for more, chanting “G-B-V!  G-B-V!”  Their ubiquitous following includes Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder, director Steven Soderbergh, and former White House Press Secretary Jay Carney.

The Dayton, Ohio quintet’s recent Irving Plaza gig was fantastic and breathtaking.  They tumultuously rocked the stage for two joyous hours.

Robert Pollard wasn’t exactly a Marvin Gaye, but he belted with great vitality and he didn’t forget a single lyric - despite being balls drunk on Bud Light, Cuervo, and Crown Royal.  The raw, noisy instrumentation was nowhere near, say, Return To Forever’s skillfulness, but the chord progressions and drum beats were tight, catchy, and awesome.

The 1,000+ crowd - which contained a bunch of 20-something hipsters and greying indie dads - worshipped GBV.  Hundreds of people belted along with Pollard to tracks from throughout the band’s 31-year-long career, including cuts off of classic LPs like Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes.  The attendees were utterly overjoyed.

How have Guided By Voices been able to generate such a religious following and become so legendary and prolific?  It’s because of their spirit.  Along with their gritty punk attitudes, the souls of Robert Pollard, Tobin Sprout, Mitch Mitchell, Greg Demos, and Kevin March all ineffably blend together, summoning intense power and beauty.

Among his drunken dialogue, one irrefutable line from Pollard really summed things up: “We’re the greatest fuckin’ band in the world!”

Agalloch, Jex Thoth

Irving Plaza

New York, NY

June 30, 2014

Agalloch were one of the first metal bands to combine black/doom’s monsoon of carnage with ambient, post-rock-inspired folk melodies.  The most notable act to be influenced by the Oregon band’s stylistic bloodbath are Deafheaven.  Taking Agalloch’s approach of adding atmospheric, emotive music to death metal, Deafheaven received high critical praise with their 2013 formidable tour de force Sunbather.

I’m not the first person to gush about Agalloch’s inventiveness.  According to their Bandcamp.com bio, “It has been said that Agalloch is to heavy metal what Ingmar Bergman is to cinema.”

The quartet recently dominated New York’s Irving Plaza in support of their 2014 epic The Serpent & The Sphere.  Their entire performance was inarguably powerful and amazing.

Agalloch are notable for their live show environments, which incorporate wood, incense, and pictures of the Northwest.  Thanks to the first two elements, the room smelled beautifully.  Unfortunately, though, the metalheads’ pungent sweat killed these fantastic aromas.

“Limbs” was an intense, post-metal explosion.  I loved the bombastic, D major-scale chord sequence and haunting guitar riffs.  Agalloch really expressed their post-rock spirit on “Ghosts of the Midwinter Fires” with a rushing flood of ethereal, echoing guitars.  Their staging of The Serpent & The Sphere’s theatrical lead single “Celestial Effigy” was just awesome.

The guys had skillful musicianship, but they didn’t let their instruments get in the way of stage presence:  bassist Jason William Walton confidently strode across the stage while interacting with his mates, and guitarist Don Anderson got the crowd screaming by provocatively cuffing his ears and clapping.

I had a remarkable time seeing Agalloch.  They’ve been enchanting the metal world for almost 20 years, and they haven’t lost one drop of almightiness.  Cheers to Agalloch.

Eyehategod, Ringworm, Enabler, Shitkill

Club Europa

Brooklyn, New York

June 7, 2014

This past weekend, the mega-festival Governors Ball hit hard in NYC.  People from all over the world were ferrying up to Randall’s Island to catch acts like Outkast, The Strokes, Interpol, and Skrillex.  For many tri-state area citizens and Madonna, it was an exciting weekend to be alive.

Well what about the metal-loving civilians in the area?  Except for Deafheaven and Interpol (who are apparently as “scary” as Deafheaven), Gov. Ball’s lineup wasn’t dour enough to attract many metalheads.  Fortunately, there was an alternative: Eyehategod at Club Europa.  The monumental sludge-punk quintet ruled the Brooklyn venue on Saturday, June 7, with the help of Ringworm, Enabler, and Shitkill.

An hour before anyone took the stage, my friend Carrigan and I lounged on a decrepit couch as grimy, shady Eyehategod-fans gradually filled the venue.  There were Viking-looking men, dominatrix-attired women, and enough tattoos to make Rick Genest go, “Damn!”

Carrigan and I found the sets of thrash metallers Shitkill and crust punks Enabler to both be very entertaining.  Shitkill was loaded with vigor and Enabler’s sound was balls-deep vicious.

Metalcore ensemble Ringworm was the final opener.  Lead vocalist James Bulloch’s sobriquet, “Human Furnace,” was 100% compatible: he stomped with absolute fury across the stage, howling his guts out and sinisterly planting his foot upon the monitors.  The wrath and rage of Ringworm’s latest LP Hammer Of The Witch was present onstage.

Ringworm

12:15 a.m. saw Eyehategod initiate their mighty set full of thundering, meaty riffs and screeching amplifier feedback.  The band rocked through parent-friendly classics like “White Nigger” and “Sister Fucker.”  Tracks performed from their eponymous 2014 album - the group’s first full-length in 14 years - were definitely more uptempo and hardcore than their earlier catalogue.  “It’s ‘cause they kicked heroin,” said Carrigan.

Eyehategod

After seeing them live, I have a new, burning passion for Eyehategod.  The doom metal instrumentations of Saint Vitus and the grit of Black Flag are clearly manifest in the band’s material.  Eyehategod’s wonderful combination of these classic bands’ styles has enabled them to be one of the most prevalent sludge acts of the past 20 years.

Boston Calling Music Festival 2014

City Hall Plaza in Boston, MA

May 23-25 2014

(All concert photos courtesy of Mike Diskin)

Over Memorial Day weekend, I experienced the third annual Boston Calling Music Festival with my cool bud David.  We jammed out to bands that we love on the sweaty, crowded pavement of City Hall Plaza.

David and I decided to skip the Friday show because there were only three acts playing - Cass McCombs, Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros, and Jack Johnson - and their music was too intimate to enjoy live while bunched between 19,000+ spectators (McCombs’ Wit’s End is a great album, though).

Crowd

Despite the hoards of ditzy, floral headband-wearing, Brandy Melville crop-topped girls, the towering clouds of Marlboro from pompous chain smokers, and the endless sea of littered Samuel Adams cups, the festival was pretty decent.  Here’s Scene Point Blank’s encapsulation of Boston Calling 2014:

Saturday

Magic Man did a stupendous job of revving up the festival.  Their mix of vibrant synthesizers and passionate disco grooves got the whole crowd dancing and in motion.  Although their lyrics were subpar (ex. - “It's been a while, and I've been alone/And you've been the only thing I've known”), Magic Man definitely knew how to put on a stellar performance.

Warpaint was blech.  The band’s lifeless showmanship included a few awkward sways and timid conversations with the audience.  The kick-drum was too loud, the keyboards were malfunctioning, and frontwoman Emily Kokal looked liked a seapunk Ms.Fowl.  I enjoyed their rendition of “Love Is To Die,” but other than that, they were horrendous.

Boston Calling was totally digging Frank Turner’s rockin’ poetry.  He sang about his childhood with the descriptive folk tune “Wessex Boy” and he initiated a mosh pit with the punk-energy filled “Four Simple Words.”  At one point, Turner even got the whole crowd to do jumping jacks.  Really wished I got closer to the stage.

Frank Turner with a fan

The Decemberists were a gigantic waterfall of great indie folk.  Literally.  During tracks like “Crane Wife” and “Down By The Water,” I tried to shield myself from an enormous downpour with a Decemberists shirt wrapped around my head.  David and I left their set early because the rain was too unbearable, but for the few songs we heard, the Oregon quintet was catchy and enjoyable.

Colin Meloy of The Decemberists

Sunday

The Box Tiger was a superb opener on the final day of BCMF.  Their addictive set combined indie pop’s cheeriness with post-hardcore’s incredible breakdowns and guitars - very similar to the style of Philadelphia trio Hop Along.

It would’ve been a sin to go to BCMF and not witness Tigerman Woah!.  These bearded folk punkers brought a raw, tough energy that the festival lacked: they played blast beats, did gang vocals, and even got a huge crowd chant going.  David really loved Tigerman Woah!’s set.  It’s a shame that the festival didn’t have more raucous bands like them.

Kevin Landry of Tigerman Woah!

Brand New was a cinematic sensation.  They got intense with “Sic Transit Gloria... Glory Fades” and calm with “Jesus” on a magnificently illuminated stage.  Vincent Accardi Hail Maryed his guitar into the air while Jesse Lacey belted out nightmarish lyrics like “Take apart your head/Take apart the demon, in the attic to the left.”  These guys and Tigerman Woah! were definitely the top two acts that David and I saw.

Jesse Lacey of Brand New

Modest Mouse’s classic indie rock repertoire was a great closer to Boston Calling.  Highpoints included “Dark Center Of The Universe,” “Trailer Trash,” and “Float On.”  I enjoyed frontman Isaac Brock’s soulfulness and his varying between guitar and banjo.  They weren’t one of my favorites, but Modest Mouse definitely ended the festival on a high note.

Isaac Brock of Modest Mouse

Going to Boston Calling was a fun way to spend Memorial Day weekend; I just wished that there were more bands as insane as Brand New and Tigerman Woah!.  Hopefully, the curator for BCMF 2015 will include a lot more heavy acts.

Fyi, if you’re in the Beantown area this fall, be sure to catch the year’s second installment of Boston Calling on September 5,6, and 7.  Some legendary acts will be playing, including Neutral Milk Hotel, Nas, and The Replacements.  It’ll be three days of absolutely spectacular music.

As my friend David and I were being hurled around the mosh pit at the Terminal 5 show of legendary post-rock ensemble Mogwai, I thought back to how earlier that day I had assured my mom that there wouldn’t be any moshing.  “Mom,” I said, “Mogwai’s music is too ambient to mosh to.”  Post-rock is an ambient genre, that’s true; it’s ethereal and sedate.  However, it can often get pretty heavy, and Mogwai totally proved that on Friday, May 9.

A little after 9 pm, Mogwai began the show with the mystical “Heard About You Last Night” from their newest album Rave Tapes. Their most popular track “Take Me Somwhere Nice” (it has over 9,000,000 views on YouTube) was definitely one of the most poignant, heavenly moments of the night: it was seven minutes of serene violins and dreamy riffs.  “Ithica 27ø9” followed, packed with waves of awe-inducing strobe lights and raging, yet beautiful guitar chords.  After “Ithica,” David and I pushed our way through hoards of pissy, contemptuous hipsters to the mosh pit area so we could be part of the commotion.  “Remurdered,” another Rave Tapes track, came towards the end of the night.  It was filled with epic drums, intense synths, and a bunch of sweat-drenched, energetic Mogwai fans jumping to the beat.

After immense clapping and endless cries for more Mogwai, the British post-rockers retook the stage and played an amazing three-song encore.  I loved “Mogwai Fear Satan.”  For 16 minutes, the track shifted between intimate riffs and powerful musical explosions, while David and I got caught in a hurricane of extreme mosh.

Mogwai’s Terminal 5 gig was visually intriguing and musically virtuosic.  Although I wouldn’t mosh again, it was a fun and exciting experience.  You gotta check out Mogwai when they come to a venue near you.