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01/28/12: Michael Byars Birthday Show @ RecordBar

Saturday night at the RecordBar one could find a motley crew of Kansas City music lovers, listeners, and performers. It was not just another bill of local bands on this night, but a celebration honoring local radio personality Michael Byars’ 50th birthday. Byars, an announcer and coordinator for NPR satellite station KCUR, also runs local music podcast The Mailbox, with frequent contributor and music guru Chris Haghirian. The guest of honor seemed to be in good company, as the whole of the venue was filled with people in high spirits, laughing, drinking and cavorting about between bands, and Byars was rarely spotted without a drink in hand. A testament to the man’s dedication and influence, he received toast after toast from those that took the stage before and during performances.

Deco Auto began their set shortly before 10:00 and played an all too short 30 minute set of sugary sweet power-pop. The trio has only been performing together for about a year and have yet to even record a demo, but they have already built a steady reputation on a foundation of well-written hooks by guitarist/vocalist Steven Garcia. When I caught up with Garcia afterward, he admitted that he was raised on the timeless anthems of the Ramones, so he plays pop because it is what he knows. After seeing the band once previously shortly after forming, the rhythm section of Tracy Flowers and Michelle Bacon have become a tightly meshed companion with Garcia, playing a rigid melodic punk that is at once brand new and recalls the best eras of pop music that relied on simple harmonies and nothing more.

American Catastrophe, for lack of a better description, are the only thing imaginable when one is asked to picture Nick Cave playing apocalyptic country. In their 40 minute set, the band displayed a range of depth and gloom greater than many in our city these days, and seated front man Shaun Hamontree bellows into his old broadcast microphone with a force that can take an entire room’s attention in mere seconds. Hamontree has been playing Great Depression influenced Gothic Americana with multi-instrumentalist Terrence Moore since the experimental late ’90s band The Black Water, and their fusion of talents has only grown in the last decade. Add to that the bass work of eclectic musician (and host for the night) Amy Farrand and the sound becomes a booming timbre and an aural experience one must encounter first hand.

Local legends the Pedaljets began shortly before midnight and played a set largely made up of new songs. This is good news, as the band’s last release came out in 1989. Whether they like it or not, the Pedaljets are a part of regional music history, infamously destructing in the midst of being courted by a few larger labels of the day. In the early-mid ’90s, singer/guitarist Mike Allmayer found respite with drummer Rob Morrow in the MCA-released Grither, and the Pedaljets’ self-titled sophomore release and ultimate swan song had new life breathed into it in 2007 when it was re-mixed and re-issued. Rumors have been aplenty in recent months concerning if and when a new album will see the light of day, but as yet there is no definitive answer. In any case, the band seems to have mellowed in recent years, opting for a much poppier, but no less fetching cadence than was present in the occasionally abrasive sounds of the band’s first two releases from their youth.

Closing out the night was a reunion from local slowcore merchants The String and Return. The group has played a handful of times in recent years, but their most recent output is quickly nearing the decade mark in age. By this late into the night (or early into the morning, since it was just before 1:00 at the time they struck the first chords), the crowd had quieted down to a dull roar and seemed to be in admiration of the melodic, somber lull displayed from the gents on stage. The ebb and flow of music that came from the corner of the room over the course of the evening ranged from poppy to melancholy, and from baby-faced to new classic, but the general theme stayed fairly jubilant for the celebration at hand. If the toasts given were any indication, the guest of honor likely can’t remember much through the haze of the evening, and may very well still be nursing a hangover. Happy birthday, Michael Byars, and thanks for caring about what goes on in this town.

This review originally appeared on Lost in Reviews.

01/27/12: The Lemonheads / The Dead Girls + More @ The Granada

There really isn’t much to say about Lemonheads front man (and sole original member) Evan Dando that has not already been mentioned at some point in the songwriter’s 25+ year career. The word “prolific” can be associated with Dando just as much as the word “junkie,” and though you could condemn the use of the word in respect of the man’s personal life, his habits have been public fodder in his own writing for years. Songs such as “Style” (I don’t wanna get stoned / but I don’t wanna not get stoned) and “Ceiling Fan In My Spoon” are but a few in which he has made reference of his afflictions. Regardless of any negative connotations brought upon by his substance abuse or rumored diva antics, this reviewer was still filled with childlike excitement at the announcement of a 20th anniversary tour for the groundbreaking 1992 album It’s A Shame About Ray.

I arrived at Lawrence’s Granada Theater shortly after the 9:00 door time to discover a sparsely filled auditorium with barely two dozen patrons littered about. Most of the crowd could be found nursing beer and having casual conversations among friends, with the occasional lone wolf standing about awkwardly or engaged in the latest time wasting application on their iPhone. Stories could be overheard from the thirty and forty-somethings in attendance of their last experience seeing or meeting Dando, each varying in context and content from nostalgic but cautious optimism, to a group regaling each other of music equipment that turned up missing after a time playing with the man himself.

Local power-pop foursome The Dead Girls took the stage at 9:15 to play a thirty minute cross-section of their material to date, including a few as-yet released tunes to be expected on the next record later this year. The crowd began filling in midway through the band’s set, and anyone who was not yet aware of the opener seemed to have become a fan by the end of their slot. The band still gets occasional billing as a quartet boasting members of well-liked, albeit defunct Lawrence (via Manhattan, KS) groups Ultimate Fakebook and Podstar, though in 2012 The Dead Girls have been around as long as or longer than the aforementioned from which they came. Whereas the former acts were distinctly two-dimensional power-pop or pop-punk crossovers, they now have free reign to allow their music to grow, unashamedly glorifying the works of Big Star and Thin Lizzy in their song structures.

Fred Mascherino walked into the spotlight at 10:00, slung a guitar around his shoulder and introduced himself to the crowd. He then played what seemed to be a fairly impromptu 15-minute set full of mostly solo acoustic-electric songs, save for inviting fellow Philadelphia native Chuck Treece to the stage for a short-lived rhythm section. Both Mascherino (formerly of Breaking Pangaea and Taking Back Sunday) and Treece (one-time touring drummer for Bad Brains and Urge Overkill) are currently serving as Dando’s touring band. While Mascherino played well and made idealistically folksy references to revolution (e.g. the aptly named “Revolution,” by his current band Terrible Things), the placement of his set after the opener seemed to perplex more than a few in the crowd, but he was on and off the stage in the time it takes some bands to soundcheck.

Meredith Sheldon was joined by a three member back-up band shortly before 10:30 to perform thirty minutes of mellow, throwback indie-pop kindred to the era in which It’s A Shame was released, replete with occasional chunky riffs and keyboard-driven melodies. Sheldon carried an air of confidence when performing, but her audience interaction between songs revealed a slightly different stage presence. She sheepishly asked how everyone was doing at the beginning of the set, to a very disenthralled reaction; but upon playing a few songs from her recently released EP then asking the question once more, the crowd let out a series of cheers. At the close of the set, the band left Sheldon on stage to conduct an intriguing acoustic cover of Big Star’s “Kangaroo,” before slinking away into the shadows.

Nearly 45 minutes passed from the time Sheldon’s equipment was torn down to the headlining act hitting the first note. In that time, more than one person in front of the stage asked aloud if Dando had canceled at the last minute. Just as the crowd reached the pinnacle in its restlessness, Dando came stumbling out to the microphone, dirty blonde hair hanging in front of his gaunt face, appearing to have just been woken up by the stage crew. Guitar in hand, he then put his mouth so close to the microphone that his lip movements shifted it on the stand, mumbled something in typical incoherent fashion, and began a set of six acoustic songs. This included, in no great detail, a rendition of Townes Van Zandt’s “Waiting Around to Die,” that appeared on the 2009 covers album Varshons. To be perfectly honest, much of the first few songs could barely be understood due to his proximity with the microphone and his annunciation (or lack thereof).

Mascherino and Treece walked out once the acoustic set was done and immediately launched into the opening notes of “Rockin Stroll,” the kickoff song from the album whose anniversary everyone was there to celebrate. It’s A Shame, in its proper form, clocks in at just under 30 minutes, and the trio wasted no time knocking out one after another until the album was played front to back. Highlights included, among others, the title track and the crowd pleaser “Alison’s Starting to Happen.” The other crowd favorite from Ray, “Bit Part,” was unfortunately not only played in the absence of Juliana Hatfield, but without the addition of female vocals at all. On the topic of being absent, Dando frequently looked as though he had no idea what he was doing or where he was, his eyes occasionally drifting up toward the lights and rolling into the back of his head as he fought to remember the chords (or words) to the song he was playing.

Upon the album being performed with a noticeable lack of the “Mrs. Robinson” cover present on the re-issue, the set went back and forth between acoustic and electric, with a few songs even appearing in a more or less A Capella style by Dando between switching or tuning guitars. The audience heard electric versions of “Style,” from the Ray follow-up album Come On Feel; “No Backbone,” from the self-titled 2006 album; and “All My Life” on acoustic guitar, in the same broken-spirited refrain with which it appeared on Dando’s 2003 solo album Baby I’m Bored. After giving the audience a set totaling over 100 minutes of live music, the only people left to be upset are the ones who wanted to hear “Into Your Arms,” or had the audacity to hope for some of the songs from the Taang! Records years before Ben Deily left the band. I would be in both of those camps, but I left satisfied that even given all of his apparent quirks, antics, and habits, Evan Dando can still put on a hell of a performance.

This review originally appeared on Lost in Reviews. All photos taken by the talented Matt Cook.

The Outhouse documentary gets a kickstarter

I’m rather sad to admit I was never able to step foot inside the legendary Lawrence, KS, punk venue The Outhouse while it existed. The year the venue opened in 1985 was the same year I got cannon-blasted into this world, covered in blood and screaming. By the time the place reached its swan song and finally closed its doors in 1998, I was still a good year or so away from seeing live music on a regular basis. The Outhouse made history that is told in stories by people across the country, and it hosted almost every punk band worth its salt in the time it was open. To attempt to list only some of the bands that played there would be a disservice to the hundreds of other great bands that would be left out.

As the kickstarter page for the film points out, there have been many films made in recent years covering the rise of American punk music. American Hardcore (and the book on which it was based) largely covered the coasts and small scene events in Chicago, Minneapolis, and other scattered metro areas. Nobody ever really focuses on the Midwest or things that were happening outside of the same cities that get talked about all the time. Chicago has its own documentation of its early days in You Weren’t There, just as Minneapolis has the rarely seen When We Play for Real, and Ohio has Cleveland’s Screaming. It makes sense then that writer/director Brad Norman is piecing together what will be released as The Outhouse: The Film 1985-1997, a documentary hoping for national distribution. It tells the story of what the Meatmen’s Tesco Vee eloquently describes in the teaser as a “visceral fucking cinder block building out in the middle of a cornfield.”

While I’m sure there is an element of nostalgia involved in the creation of this film, and that those involved would like to look back on important youth moments, I think the main goal is to show as many viewers as possible how fundamentally important a single building was to not only the people who kept it going for almost 13 years, but to the local music scene in general. The place has been closed for years and has since turned into a seedy strip club under the same name, but its impact as a punk venue can still be seen and felt in the local community to this day.

The kickstarter project has already exceeded its $8,500 goal with 21 days to go, and all money made will be going toward the production of the film and licensing of existing music.

Holy shit, it’s a new post!

Happy New Year, everyone. In a fashion completely expected of me at this point, I’ve not updated this blog in over five months. I could say that I’ve been too busy, but procrastination is something in which I excel. I’m going to try to breathe a little life into this thing again, so expect a few posts to pop up here sometime before another season arrives.