100 Shows of 2010 - #96: Stornoway @ Black Cat, 12/5/10

I must confess it to be true, darlings, that my little heart goes all aflutter for those folksy bands that strum so very tenderly and sing so very sweetly (let's call it my Fanfarlo syndrome). So, naturally, I was deliriously delighted to venture out and see what Stornoway, the latest of such Brit folk exports, could do live and in person. As it happens, this group of Oxfordians and South Africans managed to warm the cockles of my cold, black heart. Well, maybe not totally. But they sure did manage to give it quite a thaw.

MINI RECAP: Stornoway = Splendidly Sweet! Overall Score: B+

The set began with a mournful, chilling intro courtesy one violin, precluding what was to come in a beautiful, yet rather sad way. Stornoway claims to be influenced by the sea, and you can definitely hear it in their music. Their moody, passionate folksiness conjured up images of small, coastal towns stark and lovely under endless drizzling grey skies, dark waves crashing along the craggy coastline for miles with churning relentlessness. "Boats and Trains" was a favorite, aching as it was, and for some reason reminding me of Van Morrison. I got a kick out of the fact that, like Elbow and their great song/album "Asleep In The Back", the jaunty, grand strut of "Beachcomber's Windowsill" wasn't on the debut record, though the record is in fact called Beachcomber's Windowsill. I loved the almost violent instrumentation, though of course the band was never anything but pretty.

"Fuel Up" was full of thos earnest, folktastic vocals that I suspect Stornoway will become known for. It struck me that there's something rather pure and unsullied about this band. And oh my, those harmonies were magic. During "I Saw You Blink" I had the thought that there seems to be something rather traditional about their songs, but given a trendy folk twist. But not in a put-on kinda way or anything. Even the way singer Brian Briggs addressed the crowd was endearing, a sort of hesitant shyness that was adorable and enchanting. After charmingly relaying a yarn about some Yorkshire folks that were stuck in a pub for 8 days and drank the place dry, the band launched into "On The Rocks", "a wintry song for you," quoth Briggs. And indeed, 'twas very wintry indeed, the chill of their seaside-inspired tales comign across all gorgeousness. "November Song" was probably my favorite song of the night, Briggs and his acoustic calling to mind trad folk of days of yore. It was quite a captivating moment in time.

They came, they saw, they folked it up. If you, like me, get the yen for some folktastic brilliance every now and then, friends, you might just want to check out the boys of Stornoway.

mp3: Fuel Up (Stornoway from Beachcomber's Windowsill)

100 Shows of 2010 - #95: The Antlers/The Luyas @ Black Cat, 12/4/10

I'm gonna operate under the assumption that everyone knows what an antler is. But a luya? Let alone multiple luyas? Kudos to you if you knew the answer without looking it up. But I digress, as I so often do. All you really need know about The Luyas is that they, like The Antlers with whom they played this here show, are splendid. Delightful. And downright fabulous. It is a lucky girl indeed who can go to a show and experience one great band. But two? I consider myself unfairly lucky on this one, friends. Yessiree.

MINI RECAP: The Luyas = Lovely Loves! The Antlers = Astounding Astounders! Overall Score: A

The Luyas was already raring to go by the time I got parked and got myself out of the cold. To have been greeted by such a glowing, ethereal noise was a beautiful thing indeed. I found them both captivating and extremely interesting, these Luyas. They managed to call to mind my love of British bands of yore with the jangle of the guitar, while maintaining a lovely innocence and naïveté with pretty, sweetly childlike lady vocals. Their songs were complex in arrangement and beautiful to hear. They charmed with banter, too, relaying a hilarious story about hearing a "lucky couple" through the wall of a hotel while on the road who, when finished, put on some post-coital gangsta rap. After brief interludes like that it was back to the enchantment of their dreamlike, haunting tunes. Throwing in the odd dash of funk and fuzz just made me like them even more. Their set was such a delight, full of music with a twinkle in its eye and a skip in its step. It was like listening to a fairytale. As written, perhaps, by Sophia Coppola, perhaps.

When last I saw The Antlers, it was the end of February and they were opening for Editors over there at the 9:30 Club. It was a mighty fine show, and I was mighty looking forward to seeing them headline at the mighty fine Black Cat. And yes, it was just as mighty fine as I had hoped. I loved their set immediately, with the slightly sinister fringes building into one heck of a swell of lovely noise. They strike me as very theatric, this band, with their gloomy, brooding tendencies (in addition to their collective proclivity for making serious noise). I'm thinking I must have kinda forgotten just how very good they were when I saw them with Editors, because they about knocked me over, so fantastic were they. At times, they chased epicness, and it was glorious. Even the songs that weren't quite as sturm und drang felt solemn, but with a little bit of sunshine peeking through the clouds. But really, the bite of intensity this band gets when breaking into a spasm of extra serious rocking out? Sublime, darlings. Sublime.

In conclusion, I can say but this, friends. Goodness gracious me.

mp3: Tiny Head (The Luyas [newish song] - buy debut Faker Death)

mp3: VCR (The xx Cover) (The Antlers - buy shit here) (thanks to Captain Obvious for a mighty fine covers mixtape!)

100 Shows of 2010 - #89: Twin Shadow @ Black Cat, 11/15/10

Of all the days of the week, Monday somehow requires good music most of all. Something with a little kick to it, of course. Something that feels a little like a party. No, make that a partay. And hey hey, my my, Twin Shadow was in town on a Monday. If anyone knows how to make a mundane Monday into a funtacular time, I'm pretty convinced it's them (well, George Lewis, Jr., & some amigos).

MINI RECAP: Twin Shadow = Cure For The Common Monday! Overall Score: B+

It was busy as can be down in the Black Cat backstage, patrons galore gathered to see what the buzz was all about. As soon as Twin Shadow began, the mystery was solved. This little conglomeration of good time kids knows how to show a gal a good time, that's for dang sure. Pleasingly all over the place sonically, the noisemakers pinged back and forth between crazy tropical-esque dance rock, Janet Jackson "Nasty Boys"-era spiciness, straight up infectiousness, and all sorts of synthy seduction. I mean, dancefloor dreamery? Shades of John Hughes flicks? Sass? You might could say I found it all rather enjoyable, to say the least.

The more I heard, the more I liked. And really, isn't that how it's supposed to go? I'd love to hear the Twin Shadow take on Nat King Cole's golden standard "Unforgettable", which I'm pretty sure was mentioned by the band during the set (unless I just made that up, in which case I might be a genius). I'm way smitten by the shimmer and feistiness of the overall affair, and would hazard a guess that the next time Twin Shadow comes back to town, it'll probably be somewhere with a much larger capacity.

I left the club with a smile on my face and sunshine on my mind. Go see Twin Shadow live whenever possible, y'all. Oh, and hey Europe. Twin Shadow is coming for you and your dancing shoes early next year! Be ready to drink and dance and have one humdinger of a time.

mp3: Slow (Twin Shadow from Forget)

100 Shows of 2010 - #79: Gary Numan @ Black Cat, 10/20/10

Oh. Sweet. Mercy. For my 79th show, my friends, I got to see an absolute, certified, bona fide, hot damn Legend. In what was very probably the musical event of the 100 thus far, yours truly was witness to the one, the only, Gary fucking Numan. At the Black fucking Cat, to boot. Which means, for those who have never had the pleasure of a show upstairs at said venue, it was choc full of Numan fans young and old in a cozy space that made one feel oh so special for being there. In a way it was surreal, seeing such a performer in such a space. The good kind of surreal, of course. There was a strange, cosmic sort of serendipity about this show, but I'll get into that later. Give me a minute, friends, I think I'm still in recovery...


MINI RECAP: Gary Numan = He Is Legend! Overall Score: A

And now, for the serendipity. Numan's tour, in which he played the vast majority of the record, was The Pleasure Principle tour. This album was released on 1979. Also of note in 1979? Yours truly was born. And in the third piece of this little serendipitous triad, this show is #79. So already, even before things got underway, this show was destined to be quite memorable. As we know, this kind of tour has become quite the rage, especially amongst bands that perhaps haven't been in the public eye in a while. And so, to my delight, around comes Gary Numan, touring the heck out of one of 1979's most seminal albums (seriously, if you don't own it...).

This show could have been a little dodgy. By his own admission, Numan was dealing with some sort of vocal issues, and considered canceling the show. But to the delight of those present, he decided to soldier on, and I'm so very glad he did. Sure, the crowd picked up the slack on several numbers (which added a sort of loose, intimate vibe to the proceedings), but when Numan sang he very frequently sounded just right. Perhaps I was listening with ears prone to hearing just the good bits, or perhaps I was just so excited to see one of the most important new wave/synth artists of ever. Be that as it may, Gary Numan damn near killed it.

His supporting bandmates filled the room with song after song of Gary's trademark dark, sexy synth-laden sound. Hearing my trio of favorites from The Pleasure Principle was nothing short of breathtaking: "Metal", "Films", and "M.E." Each song was fantastic. When the notes of "Cars" inevitably began to waft into the room, along with a battery of strobes, there was an overall feeling of ecstasy within the walls of the Black Cat. Everything was working, the darkness, the nuances of the songs, the absolute synthy perfection...even when he abandoned The Pleasure Principle and pulled from later, more rocking records, Numan to me didn't miss a beat.

And yes. If you're wondering whether or not the man is still a fox, the answer is a resounding and very emphatic yes.

The man who helped launch a movement proved he can still play with the best of them. Had he not had a night of being a little vocally-challenged, this show would have been even more glorious, somehow. But as it stands, it was one hell of a night. Viva Gary Numan!

mp3: Metal (Gary Numan from The Pleasure Principle)

100 Shows of 2010 - #78: The Henry Clay People/The Dig @ Black Cat, 10/14/10

So looking back, at this point in the year this week (10/11-10/14) of shows currently stands as the best of the best. Four straight nights, four killer shows. And I do mean killer. The last of these shows featured two bands straight outta Cali that I'd been wanting to see for quite a while, especially that group of rapscallions of The Henry Clay People. I've said it (many, many times) before, and apologies if you're sick of hearing it but I'll keep saying it til I'm dang near blue in the face: Bands from California just do it better, sometimes. And one of those times, wait for it, was this particular evening. It was pretty, it was rockin', and it was the finest of fine ways to wrap up the week of concert-going.

MINI RECAP: The Dig = Royal Flush! The Henry Clay People = Full House! Overall Score: B++++

Band numero uno was The Dig. Despite the fact that their Myspace page proclaims their Brooklyn residency, the band introduced themself with a hearty "Hello, we're from California." Go figure. Is it that non-California bands want to be considered California bands? Whatever the case may be, I dug The Dig. This little foursome took you from being bathed in a really, really pretty wash of dreamlike reverie to being rocked like an earthquake. Y'all know how I like that juxtaposition of slow-motion magic and suggestive rock groovin', so me and The Dig, well, we got along just fine. I found a particular kinship in the lyric, "Only lookin' for a good time," because, well, I just did. As much as I enjoyed thier sweet moments of lulling bliss, I tended to appreciate their turning things up a few notches even more (think that sunshiney gloss of Southern California that's been dragged through a few all-night benders, perhaps). There was an ease to their set, an air of being uncomplicated but really quite good at what they're doing. At one point, I likened them to The Kinks, dragged through the Motor City and left wandering, dazed and confused, in the middle of Hollywood. Which means pretty dang fine.

The Henry Clay People is definitely a California band, both residentially and musically speaking. They claim they want "everybody to be a Henry Clay Person," and while I'm not sure what the rest of the general populace of the planet thinks, I'm definitely ready to call myself an honorary Henry Clay Person. I'd wanted to see them for what kinda almost felt like forever, and I must say, the wait was worth it. They laid it all out for us, friends, from those lively, bold vocals to the gnarly strumming of the guitar to the bulky heft of the rhythm section and of course, the ever-so slight possible nerdiness. It was all there, in the set, and it was all awesome. As was their cheeky sense of humor. When "everything broke" at the start of the second song, it was suggested that Jordan (i.e. pianist/vocalist) sing us some showtunes. It was an affable, fun moment, and Jordan took the cue and took on Bowie's "Space Odyssey," which, I tell you what y'all, was a damn fine improvisational cover. Well played indeed. Resuming their normal transmissions, The Henry Clay People hopped along a wide variety of touchstones from Weezer to the playful cheek of The Faces and a half dozen other stops in between. The radness was just non-stop from this band. Daggum, y'all, they were delightful.

It was one hell of a week, and these two bands capped it off something fierce. Do yourself a favor and dig The Dig, and let yourself become a Henry Clay Person. And GO SEE THEM BOTH LIVE. IMMEDIATELY. GO.

mp3: Switch Kids (The Henry Clay People from Somewhere On The Golden Coast)

100 Shows of 2010 - #77: Jeff The Brotherhood/The Woggles @ Black Cat, 10/13/10

It's funny, isn't it, how sometimes our friends can know what's best for us even better than we do. I owe this particularly blissful Wednesday evening to my friend Max, who was taken aback (i.e. horrified, scandalized, and on the verge of going into shock) by the fact that I hadn't been planning on attending the Jeff The Brotherhood/The Woggles show. So emphatic was his proclamation that I would have a killer time to end all killer times that I relented, and chose rock and roll over an early bedtime. And I'll tell you what, my sweet little rock and rollers, when it comes to the choice between rock and sleep, never, ever let sleep win.

MINI RECAP: The Woggles = Wickedly Wicked! Jeff The Brotherhood = Radically Rad! Overall Score: A

James Brown might have been the Hardest Working Man in Show Business, but the dudes of The Woggles are the hardest working I've seen grace a stage in a long, long time. Working on their third decade of rampant rock and roll, these four have more love for the music, more gusto, and more showmanship in their little fingers than the vast majority of bands out there. Guarandamnteed. Beyond my serious sartorial appreciation of their matching double-breasted uniforms, I was virtually rendered speechless by the sheer spectacle of their unbridled power. How I've never gotten into them before, well, is an oversight of the highest order. I can only apologize and promise to do better, for both myself and for you. There's a definite 60s-ness to The Woggles, a mix of the scuzz of the Motor City with the taut pop sensibilities of the British Invasion. In other words, this shit will get you moving like nobody's business. The bouncing! The howling! The hamming! It was non-stop, ridiculous awesomeness. Singer Mighty Manfred works the stage (um, and the entire room, particularly the counter of the bar and the floor) like a man possessed by the unholiest of unholy ghosts, writhing and wriggling and gettin' down with his bad self. He also tossed out banterous gems, the most sage being this: "No shy boy ever got laid." Discuss. This set took my breath away, plain and simple.

Before they began, I thought there was absolutely no way whatsoever that Jeff The Brotherhood, or any band for that matter, could hope to succeed at attempting to follow such a glorious set. After all, how does one top such a successful pairing of over-the-top posturing and fantastic rock? Turns out, it wasn't so hard after all. Two guys, drums and a guitar quickly and resoundingly proved me wrong. They laid down their driving, dirty rock and it didn't take long before I was diggin' their vibrations. There was bit of retro swamp rock going on, hints of CCR spending too many nights in Nashville perhaps, pounding bourbon shots and jamming with Black Sabbath. They were thunderingly loud, building layer upon layer of filthy splendor. If The Woggles had me feeling like I was livin' in the 60s, Jeff The Brotherhood fast-forwarded a decade later to the hazy, heady heydays of stoner, droner 70s rock. I was beyond pleasantly surprised by how much I liked them.

These two bands made a perfect pair, and the whole damn thing was just about a perfect show. What a night, my friends. What a fanfuckingtastic night. Please, go forth and welcome The Woggles and Jeff The Brotherhood into your lives. I promise it'll be worth your while. And definitely, unquestionably go see them live whenever you can.

mp3: Ragged But Right (The Woggles from Ragged But Right)

mp3: Bone Jam (Jeff The Brotherhood from Heavy Days)

100 Shows of 2010 - #76: The Love Language/Lost In The Trees/Pomegranates @ Black Cat, 10/12/10

There are bands I’ve seen once and been quite happy to leave at that. There are bands, however, that happen to require frequent live observation. Bands that you can’t get enough of. Bands that you could see night in and night out and still crave more. I just so happen to have seen not one, not two, but three of this variety of band on one bill. Lucky, no? The bands in question? The Love Language, Lost In The Trees, and Pomegranates. Or, as you might wish to refer to them, Amazing, Amazing, and Amazing.

MINI RECAP: Pomegranates = Adorably Perfect! Lost In The Trees = Lovely Terrificness! The Love Language = Loves Of My Life! Overall score: A

When last I saw Pomegranates, they were playing a late late late show at a small boutique in the middle of Richmond. It’s been a while, and the band is definitely moving up in the world (and deservedly so). Their sound is even better than I had remembered, luscious and rich, playful and exuberant. The music this band makes is totally adorable, like the band themselves, yet with a subtle air of sophistication creeping in. It’s poptastic, yet they can put the pedal to the metal at a moment’s notice, squashing the fluff in favor of feverish noise. I adore the sort of dreaminess in their music, giving it a lighter-then-air feeling at times. And oh yeah. That smoke machine? Cutest thing ever. I picked up on some hints of the early years of The Verve in some of their songs, and y’all know that equates to winner winner chicken dinner in my book. However, for all their swirling lull, they can get the ole hips a-swayin’ no problem. They’re a lively bunch, those Pomegranates, and they are utterly, totally, ever-so completely delightful. Closing with a kickily rollicking rendition of “Everybody Come Outside”, the band shut it down on a high note. I had all but forgotten how splendid a live band they were, but believe you me I won’t be forgetting that again.

It was then time for the mysterious sandwich band with whom I was totally unfamiliar. Friends, that was a major oversight on my part. North Carolinians Lost In The Trees were intriguing, beguiling, and plenty of other –ings too. This massively nebulous conglomeration won me over immediately. I mean, who doesn’t love a band that starts their set in the middle of the crowd? And things only got better from there. The band is in possession of a slightly mysterious and spooky kinda sound, somewhat in the vein of the glorious Devotchka, but with more of that down home Southern thang goin’ on. They’ve got brass and they’ve got strings, but they are neither brassy nor stringy. Instead, they hover somewhere in the realms of haunting and enchanting, with a plaintive quality to their beautiful earthiness. To quoth my friend Bill, himself a North Carolina resident, there’s definitely something very cinematic to their music, being as expansive and grand as it can be. This music would have made a perfect accompaniment to my drive home from North Carolina a few weekends back, what with the glow of the sun hitting the turning leaves just so against a gentle blue sky. So very pretty. And so very highly recommended.

And on came The Love Language. When last I saw them, I was hithering and thithering with abandon down at SXSW 2009, and didn’t get to appreciate a full Love Language set. But tonight, on lead LL man Stuart McLamb’s birthday, that was put to right. And it was a superb little set, I assure you. After a slight delay for some birthday shots, McLamb & co. began to play, and I began to swoon. They somehow managed to sound even better than I had hoped, casting a spell with their sugar-coated heartbreak and all around loveliness. As the band played on, I couldn’t help my mind from wandering to the thought that North Carolina is a hotbed of good music possibly on par with the big boys of New York, LA, and Austin. I really am still processing just how very good they were. My one complaint about the set was that I wanted to hear more old stuff, but then, I’m just silly sometimes. But of course, hearing the jingle jangle swamp rock of “Lalita” quickly put everything right. As did this entire evening.

All I can say, ladies and gentlemen, is that these three bands are worth your time, and your eternal love and affection. I know they’ve all got mine.


mp3: 50's (Pomegranates from the forthcoming One Of Us)

mp3: Heart To Tell (The Love Language from Libraries)

100 Shows of 2010 - #73: Gayngs @ Black Cat, 10/5/10

As I'm sure y'all informed little loves have already heard, Gayngs has been having a wee bit of trouble with their touring vehicle. And, well, their instruments. Hey, it happens. But before all that kerfuffle of confusion and all that silly, third-person statement-issuing, the conglomeration of super cute, super sassy Gayng-members rolled into DC, where yours truly and yes, best friend Laura, witnessed a night of hott rocks and cool jams. You know how we do. Needless to say, it was definitely one of the bestest, most ridiculous shows of the entire annum 2010. Fo sho, y'all.

MINI RECAP: Gayngs = Good Goddam! Overall Score: A

Gayngs, Gayngs, Gayngs. Where to start, really? There's about a million of them, as you know, but don't call them a supergroup. I like to think of them as a mob. A gang, if you will. Hey, they've even got their own gayng sign (involving middle fingers, naturally). Each one of the herd was delightful, with garb ranging from ghetto fabulous to indie chic. Which means there was a whole lotta sunglasses worn at night and super fly cowboy shirts. You know the drill. Special shoutout to Brad Cook (of LET faves Megafaun) for his fuzzy bear head accessory. Well done, Brad. The sound of Gayngs was slow jamz meets a wealth of indie quirkiness. In short, this was some hot diggity dog seriously ridiculous shit.

At times it was hard to tell where the line between joke and serious band began, but the music stands as a testament to what can happen when a whole lot of terribly talented music folk get together and start messing around. "We love you," someone from the audience lustily proclaimed, and got a "We love you guys, too" for their trouble. And I tell you what, y'all, damned if I don't love me some Gayngs. Any band that can make booties shake and touch your soul, well, they don't come along all that much. Oh, and a Sade cover? Priceless. Seriously. I can't explain it, but there is something unspeakably foxy about dudes who cover Sade. Bands, take note. Their sunglasses and dance moves cracked me up, but their music was the real deal.

Should you be lucky enough to ever have the chance to see this band, I can tell you only this: Do it. Do it. Oh, and, do it.

mp3: By Your Side (Sade Cover) (Gayngs from Daytrotter Session)

100 Shows of 2010 - #72: Foals @ Black Cat, 10/3/10

It seems that sometimes one has to be cajoled, coaxed, and very nearly dragged kicking and screaming to a show in order to be shown a good time. Such is the case of my best friend Laura and the Foals show at the Black Cat. Meeting with my dithering and waffling, she persisted admirably, and finally got me to leave the house. I know, meow meow meow rock and roll meow. Let me tell you, my darlings, that is a good friend. I can't even tell you how glad I am to have been coerced into this show, because it was one hell of a good time. To see Foals live is, well, unfathomably, splendidly, amazingly glorious.

MINI RECAP: Foals = Fucking Yes! Overall Score: A

I was pleased as punch to be at this show right from the beginning of their set. Foals has, somehow, won themselves quite a rabid little fanbase in DC, and I was pretty surprised by both the size and enthusiasm of the raucous revelers. Not surprised that Foals has so many fans, mind you, but surprised at how many dragged themselves out on a Sunday and were so very vocal. It's not often I'm part of such an excitable crowd these days, and it was rather refreshing. I'm guessing the kids dig that whole frenetic, whirling dervish synthy rock thing, quite possibly. I know I sure did.

With the crowd hanging on every note and cheering heartily for every song, Foals ripped through a doozy of an intense, glowering glow of a set. "Are you guys having a nice time?" the band inquired, to which the kids shouted their affirmations loud and clear. The sound was great, and the boys of Foals turned it loose and unleashed quite a mighty musical beast whenever they damn well pleased, which, happily, was a frequent happening. There's more to their sound than just luridly loud, filthy noise, mind you. Serious melodies and structure can be found all over the place. Foals knows how to write a song, that's for damn sure. Their interaction with the crowd was brief, but the musical communique certainly made up for the lack of smalltalk. I was totally and utterly astounded by their brutal, beautiful sound.

Foals, o Foals. What a wonderful, adorable band you are. If you, friends, find yourselves in the path of their tour, be it now or sometime in the future, don't wait for your friends to twist your arms into going to see them. Do it for yourselves. And maybe bring along a few friends. I guarantee they'll love you for it.

mp3: Balloons (Foals from Antidotes)

100 Shows of 2010 - #67: Those Darlins/The Strange Boys/Gentleman Jesse & His Men @ Black Cat, 9/15/10

I'm nearing the last leg of this 100 gig odyssey, and as you know I've been lucky enough to witness quite a few totally radical shows. A few have even been downright stellar. Number sixty seven was rather special, even compared with the other special ones, my little lambs. Not only was I once more in the presence of my esteemed partner in blogging, but also in the presence of not one, not even two, but three killer bands. Oh yes. I said three. Atlanta types Gentleman Jesse & His Men, Texans The Strange Boys, and the totally girlcrush-worthy Nashvillians Those Darlins (and their token dudes, of course, who are also crush-worthy). This show was so splendiforous, so dang rockin', that not even the totally weird, awkward vibe in the crowd (and it was decidedly weird) could ruin the amount of severely fierce rock that those ladies and gents put out. It took me days to recover, frankly. I was rocked out.

MINI RECAP: Gentleman Jesse & His Men = Yabba! The Strange Boys = Dabba! Those Darlins = Do! Overall Score: A

I missed, sadly, virtually all of the set belonging to Gentleman Jesse & His Men. However, the scant few songs I saw served as a hint of the sheer balls-out, sexy rock that these young men can put forth. I'd liken them to Rick Springfield (think "Jesse's Girl" but actually cool), with a big, catchy sound and plenty of cheekiness. Further investigation is definitely needed, but I was well impressed with what I witnessed.

The Strange Boys followed, and it was during their set that the weirdness in the club began in earnest. There was a little bit of a disconnect between the crowd and the bands, though with The Strange Boys it extended to the staff, too, as they were ignored after requesting more lights so they could see the crowd's purty faces. Lighting aside, my (impatient) wait to see the band was rewarded with a delicious dose of retro-fitted rock and roll purity. The shambolic edge was present in spades, but so too was the polish that sets The Strange Boys apart from plenty of other soundalikes. I'm still counting my lucky stars to have heard my beloved "Night Might" and "Poem Party", along with "Nights In Paris", "Be Brave", and a heaping helping of other goodies. Their remarkable nonchalance about playing wowed me, as I've said before it's like they don't even try, and yet they are so very, very good at what they do. It's effortless, but with a little sneer. They shimmied and shook and rocked and rolled and by the time they were done, I loved them more than ever.

And then, to top it all off, came Those Darlins. These little ladies have beguiled the both of us here at LET, and having never seen them live before I was beyond excited. And these hot mamas most certainly did not disappoint. Oh no. I mean, any band that literally has the lights turned on to get them off the stage is impossible not to love, right? These gals were intent on causing a ruckus, and they did their due diligence. The set was soaked in sex and booze and rabble-rousing, and lordy me it was sensational. Their rocky twang was in fine form, pitting their trio of come-hither vocals with down and dirty rock, filthy hints of the blues, and a bit of Nashville for good measure. "Wild One" was the highlight of a thoroughly bitchin' set for me, being as it is one of my favorite songs these days. And hell, just cuz they're sweet don't mean they're always nice, you know. Even if they did bring Nikki's mom up onstage for a little tambourine playing. These girls are definitely whisky rock-a-rollers, to quoth my dear Skynyrd, and they rock harder than most bands around. Can't say enough good things about 'em.

I'll keep it brief. Go see these bands. End of story. Oh, and you're welcome.

mp3: Who's That Knockin At My Window (Daytrotter) (Those Darlins from Those Darlins)

100 Shows of 2010 - #65: The Charlatans @ Black Cat, 9/9/10

Hello, my name is Megan, and I've been a Charlatans fan since 1996. For almost 15 long, happy years I have fiercely loved and been a staunch advocate for the five lovable Mancunians (ok, well, one of them is Irish, but that's splitting hairs, really), and their songs have meant more to me than most bands ever will. They are, realistically, as important to the annals of Britpop as any other band you can think of, if not moreso, because their songs still hold up well to this very day. If you're not already into them, I strongly suggest you stop reading this right now and go find an album to listen to. It's ok, I'll wait.

All set? Good. Now we can proceed. Despite my lengthy run of fangirlness, I'd only managed to see The Charlatans (or as they're sometimes called, The Charlies) twice, and neither time was here in DC. Go figure. My first Charlies show was in Atlanta, when I was 18. I borrowed a car and a friend and I drove from Tuscaloosa to Atlanta to see them (with The Dandy Warhols opening) at one hell of an amazing show. A couple of years later I had the chance to see the band in Newcastle (the one across the pond) with some friends, which was equally as amazing. But that was 2000, and it's now 2010. So you can imagine, friends, how very eager my eardrums were to once more hear the wonder that is The Charlatans. And the point of this rambling intro is that FINALLY they came back around for a show. And it was, you guessed it, amazing.

MINI RECAP: The Charlatans = Ageless Wonders! Overall Score: A

Ok, so perhaps I was gonna give my beloved Charlatans a top score regardless, but they really, really earned it, babies. They began with an incredible rendition of "Then", an oldie but most definitely a goodie. The jangle interspersed with a wee bit of darkness got the old blood pumping. And following it up with one of their biggest songs ever, "Weirdo", set the tone for an overall spectacular little set. I do have to make a confession, I haven't yet checked out the band's newest couple of records. I've been so enamored with their older stuff I just hadn't ventured over to their new stuff (I was fearing the Oasis problem, being older songs far trump newer songs). But based on what the boys stormed through at the show, I was just a little silly to have ignored their latest works. All the sound of The Charlatans is there, organ-infused with killer guitar and, of course, those Burgess-ian vocals. Oh, that voice.

The man behind the voice, Tim Burgess, was looking perhaps more like Mick Jagger than he ever has, lean and lanky and with a dark fringe that hid his intense eyes unless he brushed away the bangs. He shimmied and shuffled his way across the stage in his black wife-beater, eliciting coos from the ladies and shouts of encouragement from the lads. He looked, quite frankly, ageless. His interplay with the crowd and those impish grins did nothing to dispel the notion that he could be as young as you like. The band brought out some seriously big guns midway through the set, including a jaw-dropping version of "One To Another" (which, incidentally, includes another of my most favorite lyrics ever: "Be my Spiderwoman/I'll be your Spiderman"), "The Only One I Know", and "My Beautiful Friend", introduced charmingly by Tim as being "for our beautiful friends in DC."

More new songs filled the bulk of the set, it seemed, but we weren't deprived of the glory of older Charlatans for very long. Really old, really cheekily adorable "White Shirt" made an appearance, sounding as fresh as a daisy. "North Country Boy" really got the crowd's motor running, as it should, being such an anthem as it is. One of my favorite Charlies songs, the lazy daze of "Can't Get Out Of Bed", popped up in the encore, and the whole thing wound to a frenzy of a close with the classic "Sproston Green".

In closing, you might could say the third time was the charm. It was the smallest venue I'd ever seen The Charlatans in, and perhaps because it was ten years in the making, I found it the most enjoyable. The band looked beamingly happy to be playing for us, and we the crowd were as beamingly happy to have them play. It was a lovefest. I might be doing some major gushing here, but y'all, this is one of a handful of bands that has meant more to me than I can ever hope to express. If you don't ever listen to another word I say, well, I hope you'll make friends with The Charlatans. They're truly in a class by themselves.

mp3: Then (The Charlatans from Some Friendly)

mp3: Can't Get Out Of Bed (The Charlatans from Up To Our Hips)

(We also wish drummer Jon Brookes a speedy recovery from what ails him! Get well soon, JB)

100 Shows of 2010 - #62: Voxhaul Broadcast @ Black Cat, 9/7/10

Another night, another show by a damned fine California band. I don't know what it is, my lovelies, but every dang time I see a band from the great state of California these days, I end up loving them to itty bitty bits and pieces. It's quite possible that there are more amazing bands out there per capita than in just about any location short of the United Kingdom. The latest example of this California love of mine? Voxhaul Broadcast, the band that always makes me think of Morrissey when I see their name (think Vauxhall & I). They didn't get much more Smiths than that, though certainly they didn't need to get their Moz on to make me fall in love with them. No, no, their sassy little Southern California sound was quite enough when it came to winning me over.

MINI RECAP: Voxhaul Broadcast = Verily Bitchin! Overall Score: B+

Voxhaul Broadcast is another one of those bands that, as much as I hate to say it, really DOES sound like California, what with their summery beats and totally tubular guitar playing. They struck me initially as sounding like a bouncier Broken West, another California band I get goosebumps for. The instrumentation has a lot in common with TBW, though vocally Voxhaul Broadcast's David Dennis gets a bit more raw than his TBW counterpart.

The lovely boys of Voxhaul Broadcast impressed me the whole evening long, with their noisy, poppy-meets-psychy-meets-rocky racket. They kept things fresh and interesting for their whole set, at times veering off into 70s rock homages, or plowing through solid harmonies and taut instrumentation. I also certainly enjoyed their penchant for good old fashioned wailing on the guitar, too. That sure does get a gal's heart beating a little faster. I wasn't sure what to expect from their set, but this band impressed the hell outta me from start to finish.

Suffice it to say, my little darlings, I really, really, really do wish they all could be California boys. Voxhaul Broadcast has a few more dates left on their current tour, and if you're in their path make sure you go check 'em out (I'm talkin' to y'all: Lincoln, NE 9/19, Denver, CO 9/20, Boise, ID 9/23, Fresno, CA 9/25, Venice, CA 9/26). As for me, well, I'm just gonna sit here and hope they get back East on the soonish tip.

mp3: Leaving On The 5th (Voxhaul Broadcast from the forthcoming Timing is Everything)

100 Shows of 2010 - #60: Autolux @ Black Cat, 9/1/10

I'll let you in on a little something, friends. It's always a good time when you get the two of us Terribles in a room together, and when you throw in a fantastic band like Autolux, well, you get a damn fine evening. Thus was the case at the Black Cat, where I had the pleasure of not only Mr. Terrible's presence, but Autolux's presence for the third time, and it was, in fact, the charm. And for the record, Chris doesn't have the monopoly on gushing over Miss Carla Azar, otherwise known as Autolux's seriously fierce drummer. She was ridiculously awesome, but then, I'd say that sentiment pretty much applies to the entire set (excess reverb and all).

MINI RECAP: Autolux = Deliciously Dark! Overall Score: B+

Even before they played a note, I was impressed. Walking out to Brian Eno's "Here Come The Warm Jets" will win me over every single time. As for the band themselves, well, the three of them impressed the hell out of me, too, moreso than ever. Right from the start, Autolux showed off their big, dark, layered sound, so finely textured and so atmospheric and so full of reverb (to Chris's slight chagrin but my delight). This is a band that takes advantage of every note, cramming as much noise into each song as humanly possible. The power and aggression in the songs was accented by a slight hint of something wicked, something sinister, giving it a delicious feeling of almost devilish decadence.

The assualt on the eardrums was simply glorious. Chilling, brutal, but somehow lovely at the same time, especially when Miss Azar lent her voice as well as her sticks to the cause. Her sultry softness tempered the darkness, with beautiful effect. The songs tended to be severe and scathing, but not in a way that was at all off-putting. At times, it felt that the line between vitriolic and seductive had been muddied, with splendid results. Somehow, Autolux songs have always seemed almost catchy to me, and this night was no exception. Catchy though the songs were, all that wonderful reverb and distortion and fuzz is what tends to float my boat, and Autolux delivered and then some.

Another night, another great set by Autolux. I second my partner's notion that you should go see Autolux whenever the opportunity presents itself. You'll be so glad you did.

mp3: Supertoys (Autolux from Transit Transit)

100 Shows of 2010 - #59: Unnatural Helpers/Heavy Cream @ Black Cat, 8/31/10

Sometimes DC really, really pisses me off. Such times include when the parking gestepo gets a smidge overzealous, or when some event or other blocks off a bazillion blocks when you're late getting somewhere. But DC also vexes me when good bands come to town and few people venture out to see them. Sure, it's happened quite a bit this year, but this here show was SO FUCKING GOOD that it really bugged me more people weren't there to experience it. So, fellow denizens of the District and environs, I chide you if you were not there for the amazing Heavy Cream and the brilliant Unnatural Helpers. After all, this was without question one of my top shows of the year. And now you'll have to listen to my gloat gratuituously about having been there for it.

MINI RECAP: Heavy Cream = Howlingly Colossal! Unnatural Helpers = Unnervingly Neat! Overall Score: A.

It took me all of about three nanoseconds to decide that I loved Heavy Cream. Their songs were short and spiky, full of lady cajones and overflowing with sass. I loved their chunky, heavy riffage and driving drum beat. It was pure, simple rock and roll, in your face and unadulterated, which is pretty much all you could ever want or need as far as I'm concerned. Frontgrrl Jessica has stage presence in spades, hopping off the stage into the crowd, twisting and shouting her way through song after song in blissful, howling abandon. At times she seemed to sneer her way through the songs, which only added to their edgy appeal. This, my loves, is a goddam awesome band. They are magically, scuzzily delicious. I couldn't help but toy with the thought that Heavy Cream is what might have happened had the bratty gents of The Black Lips been mostly girls and living in Nashville instead of the Peach State. Their spitfire sound was a thing to behold, all that noisy goodness providing the perfect antidote to the mundanity of Tuesday night. Their set came and went far, far too quickly, and I'm already holding my breath for their next trip back.

After that performance, it was going to take a hell of a lot to impress yours truly. Heavy Cream set one heck of a high bar, but Seattle's Unnatural Helpers was not to be outdone by those upstart Nashvilleans. I mean, a red gentleman's romper? You sir, are my hero. It takes a real man to wear a romper, my friends. Put that with the fact that Dean Helper sings whilst playing drums (Holy Levon Helm, y'all!), and I was bound to like Unnatural Helpers a whole lot. And then they started to play, and within a few moments of that unholy wail I knew I was in love. Their set was insanity, loud and brash and totally irresistible. At times, the noise was overwhelming, so much rock and so many layers! Perhaps veering towards what the kids call artpunk, Unnatural Helpers took no prisoners. Ferocity was oozing out of ever pore up on that stage, and it was a beautiful, beautiful thing. My mind, well, I have to say it was pretty much blown.

While Unnatural Helpers were definitely a little more "out there" than Heavy Cream, this bill made total, perfect sense to me (the winning formula of noisy rock + noisy rock = bliss). All bills should be this great! I urge you, nay, implore you, nay, demand you to go immediately forth and procure all music by both bands that you can find, and to go and see them live whenever you can. I promise, you'll be so very glad you listened to me. DC folks, that goes double for you. You owe yourself one.

mp3: Watusi (Heavy Cream from Danny)

mp3: Girl In The Window (Unnatural Helpers from Cracked Love & Other Drugs)

100 Shows of 2010 - #52: Young Galaxy @ Black Cat, 8/12/10

Pretty lights and a fog machine and fabulous glitter oh my! Given those three elements, I was already very favorably inclined towards really liking those visiting Montrealians Young Galaxy. Thankfully, when they started to play, I was sent into throes of joy, because this here band is pretty darn good at making live music. They were so good that not even the ridiculousness of the DC parking Gestapo could dampen my evening (though it was a good effort, you bloody meanies).

MINI RECAP: Young Galaxy = Glitter Ball Glorious! Overall score: B+.

I do so love bands that seem to have several personalities, and based on the set Young Galaxy knocked out, they’ve got quite a few. We were given anything and everything in this set, from gloriously loud washes of noise to more structured, synthy and almost glammy pop to darker moments of slight melancholia. At times it got straight up dramatic, with the white lights shining down on Stephen Ramsay as he throttled his guitar and thrashed his way all over the place. And then, there was their endearingly silly banter (such as the dedication of "Swing Your Heartache" to the crowd, because we smelled "the best of any of the cities we've been in," which, evidently, is musky) to take things down a notch.

I was all sorts of impressed for most of the band’s set. “Destroyer” sounded impeccable, slightly tongue-in-cheek and tiptoeing along the fringes of musical bombast. At such moments the band reminded me a lot of stellastarr*, with all those big chords and the big, sweeping vocals. Not only did the band as a whole impress the heck out of me, but so too does Catherine McCandless and her big ole siren song of a voice. Not only can this girl rock an asymmetical haircut, but she can sing circles around most ladies. With that commanding presence of hers and the strength of her voice, I was hooked. Also serving to reel me in was their seriously sensational cover of the Cure's "Primary". It was the perfect song for them to cover. Serious bonus points on that, and perhaps even Mr. Robert Smith himself would have approved.

It was all very serious, and yet all very good fun. And who doesn’t like fun on a Thursday night, eh? Moving from balladland to infectious synth-laden hooks, Young Galaxy showed this girl quite a good time, and they’ll almost positively do the very same for you. There’s only one way to find out, friends.

mp3: Queen Drum (Young Galaxy from Invisible Republic)

100 Shows of 2010 - #51: Beach Fossils @ Black Cat, 8/8/10

Ok, I know I have the tendency to get a little excited about some of these here shows I go to. But my level of anticipation for Beach Fossils was off the charts. After all, their amazing, incredible, glorious self-titled record is easily one of the best LPs of this here annum, and I was pretty sure that their live show would also be pretty dang good. And I tell you what, lights of my life, when you bring together a standing, dancing drummer, a sailor (or perhaps pilot) hat, and a baby pink guitar, the end result can be nothing but good times. No lie. I have Beach Fossils’ Black Cat show as proof.

MINI RECAP: Beach Fossils = Sunshinily Sensational! Overall score: A.

I’m tempted to go as far as calling them the best of the year thus far, but I’ll stop just short of that for fear of being too hasty and say without question Beach Fossils put on one of the top 5 sets I’ve been privy to so far in 2010. These dudes are awesome beyond their years, and the way they come together on a stage is truly a splendid thing to behold. Starting off with album opener “Sometimes”, the band began to work their magic, casting a golden web of noise dreamily across the room. They immediately proved even better live than on record, and that in itself is a feat. I probably would have been sated after just one song, but happily the band kept going. “Vacation” was next, sounding ever so slightly unhinged, as if perhaps there was a slight danger of the band veering off the rails at any minute. “You people need to move around more,” the band urged, and several of the persons near the stage obliged, though none got down quite as much as that sassy drummer.

“Lazy Day”, one of the exquisitely summer-perfect Beach Fossils songs, languidly jangling along and leaving the memorable summer slacker mantra “lazy today/lazy tonight/and later on” behind. The perfection continued with “Golden Age”, fuzzy and fun and straight up fantastic. As they stormed through “Youth”, I closed my eyes and imagined the whole shebang transplanted to someone’s backyard, lit by a thousand Christmas lights and dancing under an inky summer sky. It was a breathtaking moment in a set pretty much full of them.

They closed with my favorite two songs from the record, “Daydream” and “Twelve Roses”. The smile I had been wearing most of the night got a whole lot bigger as the band sharply but sweetly strummed and shimmied their way through two of the best damn songs you’ll hear back to back. It was just one of those sets, those rare and special times when the band is at their best. And I feel like the cat who got all the goddam canaries for having been there to see it.

As my friend Carolyn noted, Beach Fossils is truly great 99 degree music. I’d say there’s really none better.

mp3: Twelve Roses (Beach Fossils from Beach Fossils)

100 Shows of 2010 - #49: Chad America’s Birthday Bash @ Black Cat, 8/3/10

Should you ever find yourself at the Black Cat on an evening when Mister Chad America is behind the bar, well, you’re in for a treat. Not only is he one of the best drink slingers in town, but he’s also one hell of a dude. Oh, and a purveyor of perhaps the best beard in all of DC. So naturally, when it came time for Chad’s annual birthday throwdown, I had to go and pay my respects to the birthday boy, as well as take in the live entertainment that was so happily put together for all and sundry, in the form of (Stop Worrying And) Love The Bomb (who, sadly, I missed), The Electricutions, and The Drains. O, what fun it all was.

MINI RECAP: The Electricutions = Kablam! The Drains = Kapow! Overall score: B+.

My friend Rusty, who just so happens to be in my 2nd favorite of favorite DC bands (otherwise known as Suns of Guns) is a mighty talented dude, and has recently started moonlighting in another band, The Drains. He warned me that the band might not be “in my wheelhouse,” but anything that’s painfully loud and heavily influenced by painfully loud Brits is definitely good in my book. There was a great deal of snarling and posturing going on while The Drains were performing, and I had to love them for not only their wall of noise but their wall of attitude as well. And really, what gal doesn’t love the romantic balladry, nay poetry, of a song with the lyric, “I wanna fuck you tonight”? Ok, so perhaps not exactly chivalrous, but I like dudes who cut to the chase. I was really impressed overall with The Drains, for only their second show they’re already turning out to be formidable little upstarts. And we so love that around these parts.

The Electricutions was next, and while I knew nothing about them beforehand, I left knowing that this is one heck of a loud band. According to their Myspace, they play “early style Punk Rock/Garage/Rock and Roll” that’s “lyrically influenced by Woody Guthrie, Phil Ochs, and other protest singers.” I’d go along with that, for sure. They were thrashingly fierce, and the dueling guitars just slayed it again and again and again. I totally fell for their teeth-bared style, totally aggressive and totally enthralling. I found my mind comparing them on occasion to my much-missed Coachwhips, but a lot darker and with less of the jangly abruptness. But the grit and grime was there, oh yes. The Electricutions were more controlled chaos than The Drains, and didn’t quite threaten to self-destruct right there onstage. But man alive, they wished Chad well with one doozy of a noisefest.

All in all, it was a great night to celebrate the birthday of a great guy.

mp3: Happy Birthday (Loretta Lynn from Honky Tonk Girl)

100 Shows of 2010 - #43: The Capstan Shafts/Twins Of A Gazelle @ Black Cat, 7/15/10

To put it mildly, the evening of The Capstan Shafts and Twins Of A Gazelle show was yet another in a seemingly endless stretch of horrid, humid, stolidly stultifying days. My general crankitude was off the charts, but thankfully, as so often seems to be the case, music soothed the savage beast that my temperament had become. I felt like I was alternately seeing the Arcade Fire and reliving the glorious early 90s. And that, friends, was an interesting and fairly pleasing place to be.

MINI RECAP: The Capstan Shafts = Fuzzily Fab! Twins Of A Gazelle = Not-So-Secretly Canadian! Overall score: B.

Twins Of A Gazelle got going just a few minutes after I arrived at the Black Cat. I’m fairly certain I’ve never seen so many people crammed onto that stage before, and somehow, the masses of musicians made it work. Right off the bat, something inside me said, ”I’ve heard this one before.” The brain was racked, and landed upon those cheerfully dour Canadians of the beloved Arcade Fire. Something about the vocals and the lush landscapery of all those instruments together was very much in the vein of the AF. It must be noted that violins seem to be the new black, and quite a few bands I’ve seen lately have been utilizing them to great success. While certainly less gloomy than our Northerly neighbors, locals Twins Of A Gazelle didn’t veer all that much from their sound. “We sound a little bit like this band,” they said, as a cover of “Wake Up” was thrown into the set. Truth be told, I’m not sure how I feel about a cover that sounds kinda sorta like the original version. I really dug their new single, “Constellations,” which sounded the least like the Arcade Fire of any song in their set. It was jaunty and poppy and exuberant, and hopefully that’s the direction in which the bountiful band will move.

And then, it was time for something completely different. Dean Wells, otherwise known as The Capstan Shafts, creates pretty neato lo-fi nuggets that suggest those denizens of fuzz Guided By Voices, among others. Wells, adorable as he is, showed himself to be a true frontman, eschewing instruments to direct all his energy to the task of vocalizing his lyrics. Backed by his interesting assortment of friends, Wells and his voice endeared himself to me at once. Taking his songs out of the bedroom, Wells was charmingly affable and guardedly self-deprecating, saying “We’re open to criticism. Not terribly open to criticism, but open…” The songs benefited from the expanded instrumentation, particularly that drummer, who won serious points for his take-no-prisoners approach to hitting the skins on quite a few songs. Mixing it up sonically, at times the band shredded with rock and fury, while other times the songs took a gentler, quieter tone. The lo-fi approach wasn’t the vibe of the night, for sure. There was a slight air of discomfort onstage, which kept things feeling slightly off-kilter to me during the set. Whether or not Wells would rather be back in the bedroom studio he didn’t say, but somehow the awkwardness worked, for the most part. I was rather happy to have been around for the band’s “first second show somewhere.”

It was an unusual pairing, I think, but I was still rather entertained by the musical endeavors of the two. I’d reckon both bands would be worth seeing again, and you might just want to check ‘em out, dearies.

mp3: Middles Of June (The Capstan Shafts from Fixation Protocols)

100 Shows of 2010 - #41: La Strada @ Black Cat, 7/6/10

I won’t even try to hide it from you, my loves, I was so incredibly beyond excited to see La Strada in the flesh (FINALLY) I was as giddy as Colin and Justin remodeling someone’s tacky Canadian house (if you’ve never seen those two on TV, please amend that immediately, for then you shall know just how bloody happy I was to head up to the Black Cat for what I had absolutely no doubt whatsoever would be a fantastic set. Not even the disgusting, awful, horrible 100 degree temperatures could keep me away. And guess what? I was right. The sweltering was totally worth it.

MINI RECAP: La Strada = Humidly Sublime! Overall score: A.

The weather did keep some folks away, I’m sure, as the crowd backstage wasn’t quite big enough (in my humble opinion), but those of us who braved the outdoor sauna were treated to a splendid little set courtesy of this sextet of Brooklynites. Even the pre-set music was great, Bowie’s Hunky Dory record to be exact. It set the tone, and the band took it from there. You already know I love them to bits and pieces, and what they did on that stage just cemented and put a plaque on my admiration for this band.

They began with the weather-beaten, rambunctiously-opening “My New Home”, the sound filling every nook and cranny of the room, drawing people in from the main bar like moths to a sonic flame. Man alive, any band that breaks it down with an accordion in the middle of a song is head of the class. The live version of the most excellent “Where You Want To Go” was even more nuanced and sensational than on record. It has to be said that even before they had finished the first song of the set, I was already loving them just about as much as air-conditioning.

“Mean That Much” harmonized its way to near-perfection, and in some way the pop overture reminded me a smidge of the Beach Boys in their California heydays. Well, the Beach Boys as filtered through a traveling Eastern European circus perhaps. “There’s Only Love” sent chills down my spine with all that lovely, pitch-perfect harmonizing. Keeping four voices in tune like that is no easy feat, and when you throw in the violin, cello, and yes, the accordion, well, it’s sheer magic. The song was wistful yet totally uplifting, much like the La Strada sound as a whole. “Wash On By” was possibly my favorite of a set of favorites, the bouncy, jaunty irresistibility was spellbinding.

I don’t know what else I can say, my little darlings. La Strada is not to be missed live. I’ve told you how amazing they as a band are, but really, how could you help but love a band that a) names their accordian, and b) names it The Beast? Quite obviously, you’ll agree, you can’t not love them. So go see them, buy their merch, and buy them a drink or five.

mp3: Mean That Much (La Strada from New Home)

100 Shows of 2010 - #40: Loose Lips/Detox Retox @ Black Cat, 6/19/10

Imagine, if you will, a sultry Saturday evening. Whatever is a girl to do on such an icky sticky night, especially when she’s in the mood for some music. Happily, I found the answer to this quandary in the form of a pair of super fly local bands, Loose Lips and Detox Retox, at my bar away from home, the Black Cat. As far as Saturday nights go, this one was definitely alright (alright alright).

MINI RECAP: Loose Lips = Oh Feistypants! Detox Retox = Oh Sassypants! Overall score: B+.

Detox Retox was up first, and with drummer Kabir Khanna sporting his sunglasses at night I knew the night was gonna be good. “Enough fucking around, let’s start dancing” was the theme of their set, and they immediately caught my attention with their solid, solid dancepop. At times, singer Michael Parker reminded me a little of Placebo’s Brian Molko with his fabulously sneering, naughty precociousness. Their entire set was pretty dang saucy, and I liked it. There was plenty to like, really, between the Molko-esque vocals, the sassy bass, and the snarling mess of the guitar. Detox Retox won me over with their feistiness, sounding at times like LET faves The Rakes would had they been decamping in DC for a while. The songs proved to be shiny, polished, and full of good beats. Not only were the songs way enjoyable, but the band’s stage presence was top-notch as well. Cheeky and totally fun, Detox Retox is without a doubt one of, if not the, sassiest band around these parts. As an added bonus, the band was joined onstage for their final song by Loose Lips, for a fantastic cover of one of my favorite Bowie songs, “Suffragette City”. It was the perfect end to a great set.

After a short breather, it was on to Loose Lips. For whatever reason, every time I hear the band’s name I hear The National’s Matt Berninger singing the line “loose lips sink ships,” though Loose Lips and The National certainly aren’t reminiscent of one another in the slightest. But I digress. They had barely strapped on their guitars before launching into the set, so impatient they seemed to get things going. What they emitted was a big, beaty sound with powerfully driving guitar and percussion and a hearty amount of danceability. They almost seemed to play with a slight chip on their shoulder, aggressively and powerfully. I instantly liked them quite a bit. They weren’t all that big on banter, going from song to song without more than a few words in between, but with songs like this there isn’t much to say. Between the fine little groove of the bass and the herky-jerky guitars, I was verily pleased with their set. The songs were rich and full, and darned if they weren’t getting the kids dancing. As the set wore on, the band got more and more into it, bouncing and thrashing and undulating their way across the stage. Bassist Jeremy Cassano probably staked the biggest sassy claim, but all the band got down with the get down. And their song “The Ghost” sounded to me a bit like a sped-up version of The Jam’s “Eton Rifles”, and who doesn’t love that song? They were appealingly rambunctious, those Loose Lips boys, and they made me rather happy.

Having seen Loose Lips and Detox Retox in the flesh, I can firmly state that they’re two of the finest bands we’ve got in this here metropolis. Locals, go forth and see them around town, and you other folks should check ‘em out whenever they visit your fair hamlets. You won’t be sorry.

mp3: The Ghost (Loose Lips from the Lower Your Expectations And Be Happy EP)