Calliope
@
I-Spy
March 8, 2001
Seattle, WA

Links:
Nikol Kollars
Piece of Sol
Cassandria Blackmore
Trick Deck
Beyond Reality
Rockin' Teenage Combo
j.r.
Ota Prota

With that said, the potential for such an event to be less-than-par could be quite high, but what keeps Calliope grounded is its down-to-earth presentation and its engaging nature to draw in the audience. Described as a "unique gathering of amazing artists intermixing, creating a sensual experience for the mind, body, and soul," this year's Calliope started off with a fashion show of vintage clothing that Laura Kelly (a.k.a. Piece from the spoken word group Piece of Sol) has collected over the years. One of the more coveted items (and believe me, there were many) were a pair of Italian sandals from the '70s that were converted into roller skates.

Next was a fashion show curated by Unika Guilmet, a local urban stylist, featuring the latest fashions by established clothing lines like Mecca and Sergio Valente. The skinny was on hot pants, and that lots of booty shorts and stiletto thigh-high boots are in for the spring and summer.

DJs Evil Twins, DJ Misskick, and DJ KillaBee spun some smooth hip-hop, drum 'n' bass grooves before the musical portion of the evening began. Painted on the back-drop were two large images of female sea monkeys created by artist Cassandria Blackmore. This was the source of the live installation that would be created during the rest of the evening. With lots of green paint and glitter on a barely-clothed model, Cassandria created a living sea monkey.

Ubiquitous, the trio that consists of local talents Nikol Kollars, Christa Wells of Trick Deck, and Dawnya Wittenborn started the musical aspect of the evening with "Sweet Surrender." Later in the evening, each member of the trio presented her own material, mostly in the dance-electronica realm. Following this dynamic trio was Kylea from the hip-hop band Beyond Reality who encouraged the audience to "relax your mind and let your body be free."

Slam poet Piece then came out to do her poem, "I Live Gray," which addresses the question of racial identity. Flamenco dancer Encarnicion clapped, snapped, beautifully stomped and twirled around the stage with grace and ease. Rockin' Teenage Combo's keyboardist Dara Quinn kicked out some funky jams on an unassuming set of keys. Then j.r. presented her sultry, acoustic blues, "(I Wanna Be) the Woman of My Dreams."

"That was really ocean-like...," laughed Christina Honeycutt, the sugar-dipped voice singer of Ota Prota responding to the slip and the splash of some poor soul who missed a step in the dark stairwell at I-Spy, causing his drink to spill. The comment was not meant to humiliate but was more of a good-spirited observation to instill a sense of humor. It did. Previously, Christina had evoked the crowd to make sounds like the sea with everyone in unison, sounding "ssshhhhhs." Her unique beautiful vocal styling enraptured the crowd. Bjork-like, her voice resounded histrionically as she sang "Sea mussels moaning melody." Also memorable was Nikol's take on Michael Jackson's "You Got to be Starting Something." With the use of some effects boxes, she sampled her voice to create a back-beat to sing over. She had the crowd and her fellow artists in the call and response singing the "yeah, yeahs."

Calliope maintains a cool, laid back vibe which is why it continues to succeed. Check out the next Calliope. You'll leave feeling inspired and in awe of the diversity of our city's female talent. [Click here to read Hope's live review of Calliope 2000. --Ed.]

-Hope Lopez
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Links:
Clutch

It was a night of transition for the two local acts. Quintaine Americana showed up with a new member, guitarist Pete Valle, who evened out the lines of North vs. South in the band (two members hail from Drew, Mississippi, two from Massachusetts). Raising their unified flag high, QA dug their spurs deep into the big rock horse's sides and rode it through an angry collection of stabbing power chord gems, pulling off a thrilling rendition of the Billy Idol classic "Rebel Yell." Channeling their guitars through two menacing Marshall stacks, the band delivers a brand of punk-metal that is an amalgam of Motörhead, Social Distortion, and The Reverend Horton Heat. With eyes closed, you'd swear singer Rob Dixon was really Mike Ness of Social D.

Roadsaw, who've gathered a loyal flock of followers in and around Boston as well as in the stoner rock circles across the country and overseas with their excessive, throwback, riff-heavy style, jokingly peddled their out-dated merchandise as Curve of the Earth Records held a clearance sale at the back of the room. Singer Craig Riggs and bassist Tim Catz bantered back and forth between songs with the audience and each other about their very unsentimental last show together. Nevertheless, the unkempt rogues closed the door on their chapter in rock history with a raw and meaty performance that at times resembled a sort of rock 'n' roll rodeo, with Riggs in a cowboy hat rustling up the audience with several wild twirls of his microphone.

Clutch frontman Neil Fallon remarked on how long it had been since he and his band of road weary travelers came through Beantown, dedicating the fifteen song set to all the "sons and daughters of scurvy, one-legged pirates" that he spied before the stage. Headlining this show after a lengthy tour opening for Corrosion of Conformity, Clutch made sure all the longtime fans were pleased by plucking tunes not only from the just released Pure Rock Fury, but from Transnational Speedway League, Clutch, and The Elephant Riders as well. He was up to his usual tricks: calmly making his way onto the stage, smiling mischievously and nodding to the kids in the front row, holding the microphone at a downward tilt in front of his face with both hands, and releasing the hounds of Hell in a fierce opening taste of "Animal Farm." A polar force within the Clutch maelstrom, Fallon rides alongside the mad riffs guitarist Tim Sult coaxes out of his vintage Gibson SG, spouting chunks of clashing imagery wrapped in his inventive wordplay. His stream of consciousness is more a raging river flooding the plains of history, nature, literature, and pop culture, sweeping up whatever is in its path for placement in a lyrical menagerie. His delivery is as unique as his lyrical content, and he brings a boundless creativity to a trio of musicians who already overflow with fresh sounds and a mercurial jamming spirit.

A smart blend of songs old and new worked to Clutch's advantage, as new numbers "Pure Rock Fury," "Red Horse Rainbow," "Sinkemlow," "Brazenhead," and "Immortal" deftly carved their way into the band's already bountiful crop of grade A swirl and stomp, perpetuating future jams down the road. The trio of Sult, Dan Maines, and JP Gaster played with the ferocity and musicality that veteran Clutch fans have come to expect. Sult wailed and scrawled underneath a gallery of enraptured onlookers who hung over a railing just to the guitarist's right, pumping their fists, bobbing their heads, and generally losing their minds. Gaster treated us to a sleight-of-hand drum solo that merged into the stretched out, mellow to aggressive "Red Horse Rainbow." Maines explored the limits of The Middle East's acoustics and sound system, manipulating his bass to emit some rafter-bending, ear-splitting tones, which were especially dominant during the outro to "The Soapmakers," a hodge-podge of varying time signatures. "The Dragonfly," a gloriously evil-sounding sludgefest that in its many layered grooves hides a seemingly well-researched song-story about insect life, bludgeoned the crowd. As the three musicians began their collective journey through the rollicking tales of buccaneer mayhem "Big News I" and "Big News II" that closed the set, Fallon stood still with microphone in hand at the very front of the stage, staring down in disbelief at the violent whirlpool of a pit he had a huge part in creating. Then he looked up with eyes wide, brought the microphone to his face, and summoned his bark from the nether regions of Davy Jones' locker.

-Dan Cullity
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Diecast/God Forbid/Risky Business
@
The Brass Mug
March 1, 2001
Tampa, FL

Links:
Diecast
God Forbid

Risky Business, a Tampa hardcore band, opened the night at the Brass Mug--legendary for it's booking agent, not it's decor. They played an energetic, melodic set of pop-punk/hardcore slammers. They had their contingent of fans cheering them on, and probably added a few with their cleanly played, robust NOFX/New York hardcore hybrid set. God Forbid played next. Colin (Diecast) had warned us that Byron D., the lead singer of God Forbid, was really wound up tonight. He started out the set trash-talking the fans and then pushed the envelope from there. Wireless mikes are a dangerous item in the hand of an all-ready wired, road-weary, unsober lead singer.

God Forbid plays fast, technical, melodic death metal with a definite gothic element and a slight Sepultura feel, comparable to a more-gothic mix of Morbid Angel and Soilwork. Tough, strong death metal with melodic hooks and bad intentions, they played a too-short set that sounded really solid and precise. I'm hoping to hear a longer, stronger set the next time. Look out for a new release from God Forbid real soon.

Diecast stormed the tiny stage and just tore the house down. This is awesome early Fear Factory-styled industrial death metal powerhouse. The rotor-fast, precision drumming will make you want to flail away in the pit. Colin's vocals were a little rough (he says) from the flu, but I thought he sounded very close to the same excellent form exhibited on Day of Reckoning, their new release on Now or Never Records. Colin thinks they've been thrust into the headlining spot a bit early--kind of a trial by fire. I think they've learned a lot over the past couple of tours and are indeed ready to headline.

Diecast and God Forbid are playing at the Metal Meltdown III in Asbury Park, NJ, on April 6 and 7. I'll be there too! So should the rest of you. Go to www.metalfest.com for more information and directions. Both of these are great up and coming bands, you'll want to catch them now while they still are playing non-arena venues. Diecast won't stay small much longer with their million-dollar groove metal stylings.

-Sabrina Haines
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Electric Wizard/Warhorse/Witch Mountain/Sour Vein
@
The Breakroom
March 23, 2001
Seattle, WA

Links:
Electric Wizard
Warhorse

Witch Mountain's twist on the "Sabbath sound" was that of slowing the music tempo down--much slower than Sabbath actually do play. Again, the vocals must go. When it comes to the Sabbath sound I am rather picky about how it should be played. Witch Mountain played a good set with many in the audience there to support them.

Warhorse were next up playing more of that tediously slow "Sabbath sound." They seemed to have the bass turned up a notch or two tonight, because when I moved over by the speakers I could feel my lower GI tract giving me the impression that my smooth muscles down there were working overtime. The epic doom sound that surrounded me consisted of down-tuned chords intermixed with dark passages. I just reviewed their new disc As Heaven Turns to Ash [Click here to read this issue's review], and the live set seemed to have the same intensity as their disc. All-in-all, they played a good set with enough power for me, and I have to thank myself for bringing my earplugs.

England's Electric Wizard were making their first appearance in the United States. Being touted as the "heaviest band in the universe" but only having only heard sound-bytes, I was not prepared for the pulverizing I was about to endure. Tuned-down and fucking loud was the order of the night, and Electric Wizard served up its share. From the opening thunderous chord I was very impressed with performance. Everybody around the stage was headbanging. No dancing on this night, the crowd was too busy getting slammed. Jus Osborne, the guitar player, sure put on a helluva performance blasting out the doomonic chords--all of this achieved without many guitar effects. His guitar playing reminded me of watching Tony Iommi. Tony would seem to not move his hands that much, but what a fucking sound he could produce. The whole band was tight and the rhythm section made the walls shake. I wonder if the tavern next door had anybody in it. I would say that Electric Wizard's performance was worth the money I spent. I would tell anybody who likes their doom loud and done right to check them out.

-Steve Weatherholt
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Juno/Sometree
@
Hafenklang
March 15, 2001
Hamburg, Germany

Links:
Juno
Sometree

The hour grows late and the temperature outside drops. Sometree takes the stage. It's the first time I've been introduced, sound-wise, to this German band opening for Juno. During mumbled intermissions, they're quietly promoting their second full-length CD, Sold Heart to the One, which was recently issued over here on Cargo Records Germany. Their debut, Clever, Clever Where Is Your Heart?--taken, if memory serves, from an old Jawbreaker tune on the now-out-of-print Dear You--was released last year on the Magic Bullet label (America) and Soda Records/SNC-Empire (Europe). Some critics have likened Sometree's music to Sunny Day Real Estate, Hum and even Radiohead. The band isn't quite at that level yet, but the four-piece has a distinct sound and an astounding amount of on-stage energy. At one point during the set, I make a mental note to hunt around for some of their MP3s and, if they're as good as I think they'll be, pick up the CD.

About fifty people hang around for the headliners. The remaining crowd is a lethargic bunch--about as thrilling as lobotomy patients on heavy sedatives. Juno files in along with the bassist from The Prom, and frontman Arlie Carstens motions everyone forward; he gets a hesitant response.

Packed onto the small stage, Juno breaks into "Covered with Hair," a track from their long-awaited CD A Future Lived in Past Tense, which will appear on Desoto Records in May. Their dynamic presence doesn't seem to faze the audience. And Carstens' idiosyncrasies--head resting against the microphone, for example--only garner puzzled looks.

"When I Was in _____," a hard-hitting tune first introduced during last year's Bumbershoot (Seattle, WA), comes fourth in the set. Then Juno works its way into "All Your Friends are Comedians" and "Rodeo Programmers" from 1999's This Is the Way It Goes and Goes and Goes (also on Desoto). With guitarist Gabe Carter at full-throttle beside him, Carstens sings the lyrics as if he's never been so sincere. But tonight the newer tunes are the most stunning, combining the brilliant aspects of post-punk and raw emo-core that has become Juno's trademark sound. There is indeed a huge future for this band, and it won't be lived in anything but the present tense. If only this evening's crowd showed the appreciation the band deserves...

At half-past midnight, Juno is tired of pleading for signs of life from the audience. Like so many shows before, they close with the epic "Leave a Clean Camp and a Dead Fire." Exhausted, Carstens nearly stumbles offstage. From here the band is off to Prague and other romantic settings in the heart of the Old World. I hope the denizens of those cities offer up a warmer, more sincere welcome.

Juno's setlist:
"Covered with Hair"
"Help Is on the Way"
"A Thousand Motors Pressed upon the Heart"
"When I Was in _____"
"All Your Friends are Comedians"
"Killing It in a Quiet Way"
"Rodeo Programmers"
"The French Letter"
"You Are the Beautiful Conductor of This Orchestra"
"Leave a Clean Camp and a Dead Fire"

-Eric J. Iannelli
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Links:
Mathew Sweet

Throughout the '90s, Sweet has provided a virtual template for contemporary power pop while remaining a notch above his peers in the song-writing category--and it's unfair to trace Sweet's p-pop roots too the overly cited Big Star. He's been around too long, made too many records and has too much mastery over his muse at this point. (The '70s cult legends only made two complete albums, and the arguably unfinished Third, in their brief span.) Rather, Sweet's power pop vision springs directly from The Beatles, Beach Boys and Neil Young. This becomes terribly apparent as Matthew, supporting his best-of collection Time Capsule, rolls out his catalogue at the Bowery Ballroom.

He has assembled a remarkably strong cast for his retrospective tour, including longtime allies of Velvet Crush, drummer Rick Menck and guitarist-vocalist Paul Chastain. On his albums, Sweet has always hired some intimidating lead guitar talent--most notably the Scylla and Charibdes of '70s New York punk guitar, Richard Lloyd (Television...who makes an appearance in this review later, so hold on to your hat) and Robert Quine (Voidoids, Lou Reed). Imagine the thrill then of Pete Phillips (ex-Six Finger Satellite), the guitarist for this tour, who can not only replicate the leads of those two greats--practically tearing a whole in the stage with the Quine's opening lead in "Girlfriend"--but add his own blistering Crazy Horse sleaze. With Phillips flourishes, normally mundane tracks like "You Don't Love Me" turned into wonderfully ragged sonic excursions.

Three numbers after the appealingly chubby Sweet hit the Bowery Stage--by the time he sailed into the crunch-heavy "Divine Intervention"--he was on his way to setting a high-water mark for live sets. Matthew was in fine throat, his smoky tenor bolstered by great backup harmonies (particularly from the aforementioned Chastain). You also need to see Matthew live to appreciate what a great rhythm guitarist he is (probably the reason you never see Quine and Lloyd on the same studio song). The only tracks that came off shaky around the edges were "Sick of Myself" and "We're the Same," the two best songs from 1995's 100% Fun. (There has to be something about producer Brendan O'Brien's heavily layered guitar touch that makes the tracks hard to replicate.)

During the encore--after I had already told my wife that this was one of those rare, transcendent shows--Sweet announced that "Evangeline" was next, and that he was bringing out the person who played lead on it on the album, "Richard Lloyd." I really can't be responsible for properly accounting for the rest of the show, because I lost my aloof critical stance and became a gushing fanboy from that point on. To see Richard Lloyd (on the Bowery no less) lay down some leads is to briefly hold punk history in your ears and eyes for a moment. He has a little less hair than the angelic Yang to Tom Verlaine's Ying that balanced the scales of Television all those years ago, but he's gotten even scarier on his instrument. (In fact, he's been teaching guitar for the past several years--and actually has a new album out. Check out www.richardlloyd.com for information). Nevertheless, it would have been a good idea to give Pete Phillips a rest at that point because Lloyd's leads were almost swallowed by the wall of three guitars. (Chastain, who moves back and forth between electric and acoustic, was playing a electric at that point.)

Fittingly, Sweet will be playing the Brian Wilson tribute show at New York's Radio City Music Hall on March 29th. (It'll have happened by the time we go to press.) In the meantime, I'd suggest that if you don't have a good vein of Matthew Sweet running through your collection--and if big guitars and euphoric melody is your thing--that you pick up the new Time Capsule: The Best of Matthew Sweet, 90/00. Most Best Of's make little sense to me--this one's a well deserved stroll through an amazing canon.

-Erik Hage
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Links:
Mogwai
Pan Sonic

While their new album, Aaltopiiri concentrates more on minimalist soundscapes with dub beats, their live show takes those dub beats and notches them up about sixteen billion decibels. Over which, Mika and Ilpo layer huge sheets of white noise as if an entire fleet of cargo planes is coming through the ceiling and into your lap. The bass tones are so thick that every fine hair on your body stands on end and the fillings in the back of your mouth give voice to uncontrollable squeals. I am reduced to a near-monosyllabic state, cribbing painfully on the napkin in front of me: "No hear, only feel."

Making their way around the world for the tour supporting Aaltopiiri Pan Sonic arrive on each continent like a detonating nuclear warhead. The audience is always too close to Ground Zero, our ears blasted, our bodies shaken, our heads scrambled and our sense of orientation all fucked up. You don't know whether to move to the rhythm or to turn yourself inside out like an octopus hauled up from the deep oceanic trenches. Mika and Ilpo aren't delivering an unwavering shower of pure noise, they carefully craft the blast which hits you. Music is a force. There is no doubt after being hit by a Pan Sonic show.

While Pan Sonic prepared us for things to come with their earth moving volume levels (anyone else see the object that fell from the ceiling in front of the stage during their set?), it was not nearly enough of an introduction to the banshees Mogwai would unleash next during their set. Things opened with "Mogwai Fear Satan," with the band reintroducing us to the beautiful, hypnotic balance they weave between the soft whisper of a single note being plucked and the thunderous crash of overdriven, distorted noise. Frontman Stuart Braithwaite next led the band through "Stanley Kubrick," from 1999's brilliant "EP + 2," moving on to then grace the crowd with "You Don't Know Jesus," one of several of the cuts they would play from their forthcoming release, Rock Action (the others being "Secret Pint" and "2 Rights Makes 1 Wrong"). Things softened as "CODY" was played next, but Stuart's microphone levels were so low the audience was forced to recall the song's lyrics on their own.

Listening to Mogwai's songs and being drawn into the emotional crevasses the band open up, you recognize their amazing ability to speak the unspeakable through their music; to give voice the all the emotions you bottle up but never find the language to release. All the things you ever wanted to say but were unable to utter have now been spoken for you, and as soon as this is recognized the band takes it all back again by upping the volume and turning the screws of tension tighter; changing the soft sound of the sirens' voices into a hellish noise that finds you struggling to digest the moment, and struggling simply to withstand its torrential onslaught. And, believe me, by the time Mogwai closed the night with "Like Herod," their second encore, it was a sonic battle just to remain in the building. Not surprising, the band was enjoying every glorious moment.

Rock Action will be released on April 24, with Mogwai continuing to tour the U.S. through the summer, converting the righteous with their genius and blowing eardrums everywhere.

Mogwai's set list:
"Mogwai Fear Satan"
"Stanley Kubrick"
"You Don't Know Jesus"
"CODY"
"Small children in the Background"
"Xmas Steps"
"Secret Pint"
"Helicon 1"
"2 Rights Make 1 Wrong"
"Jewish Hymn"
"Helicon 2" (encore)
"Like Herod" (encore)

-Mark Teppo / -Craig Young
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Links:
Rainer Maria

I've been quietly enjoying A Better Version of Me off and on for the past couple of months, but it was Rainer Maria's live show I was told I shouldn't miss. And that advice was spot on. The band effortlessly mined the emotional trenches of indie rock and offered up some great gems, dipping into material from their past few albums, which included "Atlantic," "Hell and High Water," and "The Contents of Lincoln's Pockets." While Kyle Fischer offered up one of the best light bulb jokes I've heard in a long time ("How many indie rockers does it take to screw in a light bulb?" / "How many?" / [dripping with sarcasm] "You mean you don't know?"), one of the musical highpoints was the fit of distortion he masterfully bled from his guitar before the band leapt into "The Seven Sisters." Things closed with "Thought I Was." Although I'm not sure if this was Rainer Maria's first time through Seattle, by the way the audience hung on their every note and lyric, I'm certain it won't be their last.

-Craig Young
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Links:
Reeves Gabrels

That's not to say the music was bad, it just seemed rather mired in a stuffy prog rock approach. However, Gabrels, assisted by just a drummer and bassist, offered up his all in both skill and spirit. The newer material was what I was more familiar with, and songs like "Arrow" and "Party Puppet" played well, with Gabrels putting a theremin and other effects old and new to good use. And I particularly enjoyed how well he played, and especially sang, "Yesterday's Gone," which on Ulysses is originally sung by The Cure's Robert Smith. But in the end much of the night came across as prog rock guitar wankery for me.

Perhaps part of the reason for this is Paul Allen's Experience Music Project itself, which in my mind is starting to more and more become a Disneyland of rock; and which I'm beginning to secretly dread going to more and more. For example, when they started showing twenty foot high flames on the giant video screens behind Reeves and his band midway through their set, I let out such a sigh that even my two friends looked my way. Note to EMP's lighting technicians: Flames bad. This is not Motley Crüe onstage, okay?

Flames notwithstanding, things brightened considerably when the band closed their set with a completely reworked version of Creedance Clearwater Revival's "Bad Moon Rising." Almost unrecognizable, Gabrels slowed down the number, revved up the distortion and turned it into a slow, gritty, funeral-like dirge. Very nice. Returning home that night I reminded myself that the set was good, just not what I was after, and threw Ulysses on the stereo to wash the rest of my ill temper and disappointment away.

-Craig Young
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