It’s 8:02 P.M. on Saturday, October 9, 2010. I glance anxiously at my watch as I walk through the double glass doors of The University of Colorado’s University Memorial Center. I’m wearing jeans and a button up, and feel fairly inconspicuous; inconspicuous, that is except for the notebook in my hand, and the fact that I’ve clearly caffeinated myself more than any human being in the room. As I approach the ticketing table, people mill around the lobby talking and laughing with friends; a mix of skinny jeans, baggy sweat-pants, tight black skirts, tight and trendy 70’s style cotton t-shirts, vests over cotton v-necks, neon raver bracelets, and studded leather punk rocker jewelry meld into one crowd, buzzing with excited energy and anticipation; all of them are waiting to see which local talent will come out of the woodwork, taking another step away from obscurity, and toward success in the dog-eat-dog world of the music industry.
Inside the Glen Miller Ballroom, there were tables lining the periphery of the room that were supporting various student organizations, and two stages; one for the performers and one for their ultimate, most important audience– the judges. I sauntered over to a table on the far side of the room, and poured myself yet another cup of coffee (smart move), then sat down to the right of the stage, and waited for the first act to begin. Of the ten acts present at the battle of the bands, all of them displayed a stellar level of performance, but seven stuck out above and beyond the rest.
Florida-Grown DJ “Benny Loco” Blows Boulder Away
http://www.myspace.com/bennylocomusic
Benny Loco, the first performer of the night, walked into the room with a pair of size 76 shoes to fill. The crowd that occupied the ballroom for the remainder of the night had not yet accumulated. Those present were painfully subdued, as most crowds tend to be at the beginning of live musical performances. Many artists would begin the night slow, trying to win the crowd over before exploding into their routine with full force. Electronic artist, Benny Loco, however, took the stage with a confident ease, using a laptop computer and sound-processors to express himself both physically and musically, just as acid rocker, Jimi Hendrix, used his white Fender Stratocaster nearly half a century ago. This isn’t surprising though. Over a cigarette after his performance, Florida native, Benny Loco said:
“The music scene in Boulder is pretty different from my home state, even though Florida isn’t very oriented toward the electronic scene, I got established with a label (Hairy Sloth) that tended to work with extremely experimental type artists. In fact,” he said, “I was probably one of the most ‘mainstream’ artists in the group. We carved out a niche though, so it isn’t uncommon for me to sell out 400 person venues when I go back home to visit.”
His music can hint at styles similar to Colorado’s own Pretty Lights, house artist Deadmau5, or Crystal Castles; don’t get caught up in labels though, because in general, this rising electronic artist doesn’t see the appeal in them.
“Yeah, I heard people backstage saying that I sounded like some D.J. or another, and while I understand and appreciate a compliment, I feel like comparisons are a little over-hyped when it comes to music that you make in an original way. I grew up on Jazz music and Pearl Jam, and now I’m doing the electronic thing, so I can’t say what my influences are in terms of current artists, but I feel like the biggest catalysts as far as my musical development is concerned are artists that I’ve worked with before– people like Elliot Lipp and Mux Mool. I’m also collaborating with Prep School and Michal Menert on a project we’re calling Antimatter, so I think that’ll end up being influential to my sound as well. All in all though, I’m out to create a different flavor of music, so comparisons aren’t all that worthwhile.”
While talking to me outside the venue, he was stopped by a group of fans, and as it turned out, the enthusiasm for his craft displayed itself despite the half-dead crowd.
“Hey! You did a great job tonight.; I really dig your stuff. It looked like you were getting a pretty intense workout up there.”
He looked up from his Parliament Light and laughed.
“Yeah,” he said smiling, “it’s pretty much the only workout that I get on a `regular basis. I appreciate it though; I’m glad you enjoyed the set.”
The group, mostly girls, laughed and smiled back.
“Anytime. So, if you don’t mind me asking, how much of your stuff is improvised, and how much is rehearsed?”
Benny pauses at first, as if contemplating how in depth the subject can be discussed with an innocent bystander; he exhales a cloud of smoke, scratching the side his head, smiling once again.
“It’s a lot of both, I guess. A lot of what I do is taking a collection of sounds and letting them ride for a bit, but then once that happens I can improvise a lot by using a processor where I can sample down pretty much any sound, from any instrument, from any song that I have, filter it down, and bring that into the melody like I did with my last song of the set, dropping keys and adding more layers as I went”
Regardless of artistic comparisons, or mixing methodology, Benny Loco walked into Glen Miller Ballroom with a pair of size 76 shoes to fill, and did so with ease, providing a much-needed kick in the pants to the crowd that filled the ballroom at the end of the night. In the future, don’t be surprised to see this DJ’s name in a line-up near you. After all, the only thing crazier than seeing this kind of talent go unrecognized is DJ Benny Loco’s musical style; a multi-layered blend of house music, vocally infused hip-hop beats, and experimental electronica that’s as sure to please a crowd in Colorado as it is in Florida.
“Stellar Drift” Jams to the Stratosphere
http://www.myspace.com/stellardrift
Other notable bands in the night’s concert include Stellar Drift, Dream Doctors, and The Say So. Stellar Drift came onto the stage, and upon first impression, they occupied the space of “typical college jam-band” within my mind, but quickly evaded and defied the stereotype that I was so quick to apply to them. In live performance, Stellar Drift is half jam band, half blues-driven rock ‘n’ roll. As is characteristic of blues-rock, lead guitar took center stage, and wrapped the rest of the band in a delicate, overdriven, sonic warp, reminiscent of Hendrix’s work in Little Wing, or Stevie Ray Vaughan’s jazzier guitar pieces. Although they were certainly capable of keeping the audience on the edge of their seats with low volume intensity, Stellar Drift didn’t live there musically by any means. As soon as the crowd got drawn into Stellar Drift’s intensely quiet jams, they exploded into a frenzy of hysterical cymbal crashes, punchy bass, and crunchy, tube driven guitar. At times, their collective tone is reminiscent of Dire Straits’ first single Sultans of Swing. On top of their musical ability, Stellar Drift’s lead guitarist brings vocals to the table that are just as juicy and visceral as the sounds that scream from his Vox amplifier and Fender Jazzmaster guitar. Although they did not place within the top 3 performers of tonight’s battle of the bands, Stellar Drift’s musical talent is difficult to deny.
“Dream Doctors” Bring the Funk
myspace.com/dreamdoctors
One of the night’s most pleasant surprises came in the form of several musicians who call themselves the Dream Doctors. In their first song, the Dream Doctors displayed their unique, organ-driven fusion of reggae, funk, and jazz with ease. When it comes to the Dream Doctors musical style, diversity is key. “That’s the nice thing about the band and the musicians in it,” they said after the show, “everyone brings a certain specialty and musical flavor to the table; that’s really the biggest influence to our sound as a whole.” Even though the Dream Doctors are a CU-grown band, it became clear that their funky musical sound would be right at home on Bourbon St., or Beale St., playing for Louisianans or Tennesseans. Although they are the Dream Doctors, their music is real and authentic, as far from a dream as possible. For the second song of the set, the band eased into a reggae groove with confidence, bringing a warm, Caribbean atmosphere to the chilly base of the Coloradoan Front Range. Julian Yeats and Nate Etter, guitarist/bassist and drummer for Dream Doctors, stood talking with me after the show.
“I really liked your stuff, guys. Your first song was great, and I could hear so many influences going into your sound, but more than that, I was impressed with how well you had taken such traditional genres and individualized them to your taste, still leaving everything with such an authentic feel.”
“Thanks man, we really appreciate it. We’ve been working together as a band for 9 months now, so our sound and that special musical blend that we’re chasing is really coming together. Some reggae, some funk, some jazz–”
“Yeah, I noticed two pretty distinct musical vibes coming from you guys up there. The first was this really great funky blend of stuff; I felt like I was in a smoky bar or something. But the second was a really great reggae type thing. I swear, if I would’ve had my eyes closed, I’d have said you guys were from somewhere in Jamaica.”
“ Yeah, we’ve worked on a lot of reggae music in addition to the funkier songs we play.”
“When you play live though, how do you split your performance between the groovin’ mo-town type material, and reggae?”
“It’s really fifty-fifty. Because we have so many different influences going through the band, we all feel pretty comfortable with both musical settings”
The auditorium started to buzz with activity. Not wanting to miss whatever came next, I had to cut the interview short.
“Thanks so much for talking with me. Before I go, though, any upcoming events for you guys?”
“Well, in the past we’ve had the opportunity to play the Ciatano Winery in Lyons, CO., The Deli Zone, and the Larimer Lounge in Denver. November 4th we’re playing the Larimer again starting at 9:00 P.M. We’re all super excited about the show, and it’ll be great to have all six band members playing with us.”
“ What does everybody in your band play?”
“Alex Martinko and Julian Yeats switch off between guitar and bass, Chris Hopper rocks the keys, Nate Etter’s the drum guy in the group, Eli Nigren plays the clarinet, and Daniel Cooper is normally on the flute.”
“Sounds like quite the show you guys have coming up. I’m excited to hear how it goes.”
“The Say So” Rock with a Vengeance
http://www.myspace.com/thesayso
Hailing from Denver, The Say So came to the Glen Miller Ballroom to bring an irreverent, in-your-face brand of rock ‘n’ roll to CU students. They delivered. Initially, The Say So’s aggressive delivery of punchy guitar rhythms cutting through the mix, snappy drum fills, and rhythmically rigid rock brought images of The Clash and The Pixies to mind. Too quick to categorize, I jotted the thought down in my notebook. Three minutes later, I found myself scratching out my previous notes, and hastily edited my words, “Definitely wrong about The Pixies and The Clash. They are more similar to Incubis. No doubt.” At times, in the game of making comparisons between two rock artists, you have to accept the fact that no musician is remotely near comparable to another, abandon whatever bullshit approximations you’ve been making, and call it rock music. The end of The Say So’s 12 minute set was one of those times. While all of the musicians in The Say So are, without a doubt in my mind, talented, it was the way that they used their collective stage presence that made them a rip-snorting good time to watch in their performance Saturday night.
The concept of a “sound” (something that The Say So has in spades) in rock music is a widely discussed and sought-after concept. Any band of well-practiced and talented makers of music can sound good, but few have an actual “sound.” Even still, any half-witted, self-unaware, black-hole of musical suck-dom, can have a distinct “sound,” or easily recognizable character of music, but suck so badly at it, that not even his mother could be proud of his work, and miraculously experience success. Don’t believe me? Google “William Hung,” and experience the most cringe inducing sounds to hit the human eardrum since fingernails dragging against a chalkboard. The two concepts, however, seldom meet in the world of start-up rock bands
So, if you can have your own “sound” without sounding good, and sound good but not have your own “sound,” then what gives? While talking with the band outside, I found what I believe to be the key.
“We feel really good about tonight’s show, we can’t really complain about the night at all”
“Were you pretty happy with the crowd size and enthusiasm? The general turnout?”
“Yeah, definitely. We always enjoy having a crowd and all that stuff, but really, we’re just here to play music. We love the fans, and appreciate them, but when it comes down to it, we’ve played shows with eight people, and shows with a couple hundred people, and we always have a good time.”
“So, If a crowd didn’t even show up at all, would you still play?”
“Hah, absolutely. We’re playing the music for ourselves to a certain extent, and the crowd what hopefully results out of that. Think of it like a musical version of ‘if you build it, they will come,’ to a certain extent”
“What’s your gigging history look like? Anything notable?”
“We’re involved with a promoter called Soda Jerk Productions that work with a lot of punk, hardcore, and indie rock bands. Since we came together as a band a year ago, we’ve worked with them and been able to play shows at the Blue Bird, the Marquis in Denver, and a couple other places, including The High Dive in Aurora, CO.”
If The Say So comes to a venue near you, I recommend you join them. When you do, be prepared to get down, because when you find yourself in their audience, you rock, and then you rock harder– just ‘cause they say so.
And the Night’s Winners Are. . .
3rd Place: Gang Forward
Gangforward.net
myspace.com/gangforward
Roughly halfway through almost any concert, things tend to drag a bit; both performer and audience lose stamina and interest. I say almost, because from time to time a band like Gang Forward is slated to play in the middle of the line up, and before you know what’s happened, they’ve set the roof on fire with overdriven Marshall amplifiers, a fat bass line, scarily snappy drum lines, and one death-defying guitar solo after another. From the outset of their performance, I could see that Gang Forward was a band with a double serving of talent under their belts.
Gang Forward is comprised of three members, guitarist and vocalist Aaron Cooley, bassist Ian McKittrick, and drummer Tyson Williams. This power trio makes one hell of a sound on stage. To start their set, Gang Forward launched themselves into fierce first number, not holding back a single gasp of air or watt of voltage. Cooley wasted no time in leaping into a guitar solo that can only be described as incendiary; a mere twenty seconds in, I found myself worrying about the health of his fingertips. At thirty seconds, he began tapping his fret board and I grabbed anxiously for my water; something must be seconds from explosion or destruction. His amp can’t possibly take this many notes pumping through it’s speakers at 100 watts of voltage and 1000 miles an hour. At thirty-five seconds, Gang Forward dropped into a rock ‘n’ roll rhythm that’s so heavy it leaves a path of destruction in its wake.
All the while, Williams sits behind his drums and punishes them like a red-headed stepchild. The two sixteen inch drumsticks in his hands come to life; they explode like two machine guns in a cacophony of rim shots, cracks, and thunderous booms. Beneath his feet, steel pedals alternate the crash of cymbals, and the concussive thump of a bass drum. Ladies and gentlemen, the artillery has arrived. His name is Tyson Williams and he takes no prisoners.
Gang Forward is like Redbull that you drink through your ears. Cooley and Williams had me damned close to cardiac arrest within a minute of taking the stage. Then, the bass line hit me. Somebody call the ambulance. If you’re looking for a bassist that doles out sweet jazz rhythms and puts a sweet, low end icing on the musical cake, do not consult Ian McKittrick. That isn’t to say he doesn’t play his instrument artfully, he does. McKittrick, however, differentiates himself from other quality bassists in the same way that a Bugatti Veyron differentiates itself from, say, a Rolls Royce. Pure horsepower.
Although Gang Forward is clearly a high-octane brand of music, they excel at taking their sound from head-crushingly loud high to an intensely quiet whisper in a smooth and synchronous way. The showed everybody in the room quite clearly that they were well practiced. Their movement on stage showed confidence and an abundance of energy, but remained authentic, for lack of a better word, and their music blended into a homogenous brick wall of sound. I was surprised with their finish in the competition. Despite taking third place, though, gang forward left no doubt that they were, are, and will be a force to reckon with any time they pick up a guitar, bass, or drumstick.
Gang forward has played at the Larimer Lounge, Herman’s Highway, Moe’s, and Bushwacker’s saloon.
2nd Place: Great Argus
One of the many things that Colorado is known for is bluegrass music. It may be a shock to the rabid consumers of dub step that populate Boulder so densely, but it’s true. Especially in neighboring mountain town, Nederland, bluegrass makes up a very significant part of the music culture in the Centennial state. Great Argus, the lone bluegrass band in the night’s competition, represented their chosen genre well. Six members strong, this local band brought a fiddle, a banjo, a mandolin, two guitars and an upright bass under the vaulted ceilings of Glen Miller Ballroom, and suddenly, the audience members were transported to the hills of Kentucky, with moonshine in hand.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get to speak with Great Argus after the show. I can tell you, however, that their set-ending performance of “I Was Born With a Hammer in My Hand” really brought the night to close with a foot stomping good time. Authenticity is the name of the game with Great Argus. For one, they are of a select breed whose lead guitarist plays unplugged; in fact, unless I missed an electrical cord or two on stage, they all played unplugged. You have to admit that it takes balls to play a bluegrass like that after several hours of electronic beats, screaming Marshall amplifiers, and drum-infused guitar licks; when you follow those acts with an upright bass and unplugged instruments, anything but tenacity, instrumental mastery and a hand-slapping, foot-stomping good tune gets thrown to the ground and unapologetically spat upon with disgust– good thing Great Argus was the person footing the bill. As a journalist, it is my job to be honest. Because of that, I can tell you two things. First, I have to confess that I can’t speak to this band’s musical influences, directions, or tour dates. Secondly, and most importantly, I’m compelled to tell you that in spite of these things, Great Argus is aptly named; they would be getting away with murder if they were simply named “Pretty Good Argus,” or “Alright Argus” (although the latter would be a stupendous name if alliteration were their goal). If you see them on a poster for a show, or playing a gig in a restaurant near you, I recommend you sit in. If they stick around for long, they’ll be bound to see recognition for their talent within the bluegrass community.
Grand Prize: West Water Outlaws
myspace.com/westwateroutlaws
facebook.com/pages/West-Water-Outlaws
Who are the West Water Outlaws? As an entity, they consist of Blake Rooker (Vocals and Guitar), Will Buck (Guitar), Vincent Ellwood (Bass), Andrew Oakley (Drums), and Eric Kean (Saxaphone). The West Water Outlaws, however, are far more than just a band; they are a sound and a look; they are a style and a brand; they are a Gibson Les Paul blaring through a Marshall Stack; they are a band that, by all sound and appearance, has been transported to present day from 1967 by time machine. The West Water Outlaws have done what thousands of blues-rock junkies across the country try to do every year. They rabidly consumed the music of artists Mitch Mitchell, Funkadelic, The Black Keys, Led Zepplin, Wolfmother, and Jethro Tull throughout their teenage years, roughly one year ago they came together as a band, and now they play overdriven blues-rock with genuine authenticity.
More importantly, the music being peddled by the West Water Outlaws is honest; taking anything more than a quick listen of their music reveals them to be far more than a group of dope-smoking, Zepplin-idolizing, musicians. They are true to their roots and still manage to hold on to the concept of originality through their music. After they had been given the Grand Prize of the night’s competition, I tried to go up and talk to them, but even though the ballroom was quickly emptying out, I was one of many with the same mission. Finally, I was able to get a word in with West Water Outlaws front man, Blake Rooker, and a few other members through a word in edgewise. “We all feel great,” the Outlaws said, “It’s super exciting to win it, and we can’t wait to get in the studio to lay down some tracks.” In the hysteria of a situation like the one I was in, it’s hard to receive and convey information; you want to get your quote for a story, but so many people are eyeballs deep in hand shakes, shoulder pats, and bear hugs that standards of communication all but dissolve. Instead, emotion is the ultimate means of communication. The West Water Outlaws were riding their endorphin high and adrenaline rush at full bore; smiling like a group of kindergarteners who had stumbled onto the real home of the Keebler Elves and hugging each other like they had won the lottery. Both of those accomplishments, however, rest upon little other than dumb luck. The West Water Outlaws walked into Glen Miller Ballroom without a penny’s worth of luck, took their competition out with the power invested in them by the gods of rock ‘n’ roll, and walked out not a penny richer in luck. They won’t need it. Luck, after all, is no mach for purebred talent– something that the West Water Outlaws have in excess.
No comments:
Post a Comment