Long gone are the days when hip hop music was simply about how flashy your car is or how great blood diamonds look around your neck.  Nowadays it is more important to have a good head on your shoulders, a great rhythm, and maybe even a live full 8 piece live band?  And  here in the heartland of the Northwest, there happens to be a fabulous group who has all of these elements and so much more.  There are known as Flying Spiders.  And they are everything an indie music lover could want in a hip hop act.

The Lilac City has been known for an off again, and….well, mostly off the majority of the time.  Many great groups have formed here, and flocked west with the best of intentions.  So imagine how strange it is to know that one of the finest organic hip hop groups is in Spokane.  Front man Isamu Jordan and his 7 merry musicians have created an amazing jazz infused styling that lives and breathes the fresh dry air of Eastern Washington.  The crown jewel of the east if you will.  Their 2011 debut EP, The Doppleganger (Villaging Trio Pt. 1) made quite a splash regionally as well as across the lands.  Flying Spiders have earned the right to be placed among the ranks of some of the current favorite acts spanning from the likes of Seattle (i.e.  Sadistik, Bodi, Grynch, & more) and Minneapolis (a whole bunch of ‘em).  But, as wonderful as tracks such as “Maintain” and “Fadism” are when heard in your broke down Nissan, it is upon the an elevated platformed stage where these jewels of the east truly shine.

Yes, Isamu and company are a class act that would fit into any region in the world.  But, they are at their best in their homeland.  And even more specifically, they are a sight to see at Spokane’s favorite hipster dive known as Zola.  With it’s industrial like atmosphere, and masons jars flowing with PBR, there is no better place to see one of the most eccentric musical acts around today.  Their vibrant and energetic live performance will make you move in ways you probably never thought you could.  Or at least pull you out of a well-whiskey induced coma to feel something positive for a few minutes.  As Isamu spits, and the band roars upon a cramped stage, the whole world belongs to them, and what do they decide to do with it?  Well, they want to give it to you.  And with every waking minute these tremendous showman are up there in front of you, they do just that.

Listen: “Fadism” by Flying Spiders

Listen: “Maintain” by Flying Spiders

We arrived at What The Heck after perusing Shipwreck Day and grabbing some eats at Gere-A-Deli to catch the second half of Takhoma’s set. On stage was Phil Elverum and another fellow I met briefly the day after (Sunday) but failed to get a name. Elverum was on drums and the unnamed guy played guitar and sang.

A few searches on the name Takhoma yield absolutely nothing related to this duo.

What can be found are memories. Memories of immense volume, a post-rock, shoegaze style drone that filled every ounce of the building in which the performance took place. A few literally breathtaking songs and the most memorable performance of this year’s fest was over.

Of course, I didn’t catch many acts this year. But I sure am glad this one made it to that list.

One of these days soon I hope to catch this band again, as the solo project of the unnamed man or as a duo or even more. And hopefully I can scrounge up a little additional info on them to pass to you in the near future.

The stars seemed to align in the 120 year old neighborhood of Brownes Addition in the fair city of Spokane. We had downright miserable weather just a few days prior, but with the 5th Annual Elkfest well underway, it was bright, shining, and thunderous with activity as the big night came upon the thousands of locals who would flock to the neighborhood known for it’s classic homes turned into kitchenette apartments and friendly bungalows.

With an out of town headliner for the evening I was a bit skeptical of the turn out, though many might have felt mandated to be there by the simple fact that this was fucking Elkfest. I was almost wounded to think that one of the finest indie acts of today would be headlining the most important show of the year for a city that thrives on local celebration. But I would be gratefully proved wrong beyond all belief. Portland’s fantastic indie-disco trio Strength put on a performance that many are surely never to forget.

As Strength hit the stage, they could have rightfully been staring at the relevance of a fresh piece of paper with nothing to write on it. Or they could have seen a staggering bunch of drunken music lovers looking to be entertained. From the bro’s with the Camelbacks obviously filled with something other than water, to the girls waving their stumbling cigarette filled hands into the air, one could hope that they felt the confidence that they would rock this crowd as hard as they possibly could. And it is suffice to say, that is exactly what they did.

From the band’s opening, the crowd seemed to instantly realize they had something special to observe on this damp Saturday night. And by the time Strength began to play their sex crazed, stellar tracks “Metal” and “Brandy”, this tremendous trio had the Lilac city attendees hooked. As well as creating a haphazardly amount of crowd surfing and cracking unwarranted PBR’s amongst a pendulum of new found friends. All this from a band that was probably initially met with irrelevant hesitation only one hour before, the tyrannically entertaining cats hit the stage. A parameter of smiles never seemed to leave the scenery as Strength continued to work the audience with a stage presence that is completely unrivaled by so many artists of the now.

As obvious as it might already seem, the most impressive aspect of Strength’s performance at Elkfest was the way they moved the crowd from show-going, to complete oblivion. I was there in the middle of it all, and I felt isolated from nobody. They could have gone on forever, and it would have been absolutely fine with not only me but the plethora of folks around me. Strength’s mesmerizing and dance-worthy tunes were an absolute delight to a crowd of residents who might otherwise be known for a dependency on homegrown talent only. Lessons might have been taught, but that is really of no importance. The only thing that mattered on this June night was that so many listeners were left amazed.

As the boys wrapped up their set, it was only then that most listeners learned that the summer sun had disappeared. Our focus had been entirely upon the amazement before us. Strength were superheroes that night, posing for photos, giving handshakes, and signing a white tee shirt of a new fan sporting the simple words, “Drunk” upon the front.

Strength were Gods for a night. Not bad for a band that has created some of the sexiest indie rock songs fused with disco rhythms and an utterly sensational sense of bewilderment that is impossible to avoid, and not nearly as holy as a God should be. These guys might very well be one of the funnest acts to exist in the indie world, and as Elkfest celebrated their 5th year in existence, they definitely ensured the show was an immaculate success.

Living amidst the wheat fields in eastern WA has reminded me lately of how well small towns can be suited to particular things. Locally grown food, irresistible coffee shops, and most importantly the glory of house-shows. The independent music spectrum lends itself well to the intimacy of a house-show performance.

Though the size and sound of the band are a huge factor in the quality of a house-show, the more artists I see play in this kind of setting the more I prefer hearing live music in such a way. Just this week I was fortunate enough to see Eternal Summers play a house-show, quite honestly one of the best shows I’ve been to in a long time.

There is something irreverently celebratory about the music Eternal Summers creates. Crawling with lo-fi goodness the Virginia based band’s sound explodes with spirit and intrigue. They’ve taken the best of beach-rock melodies and supercharged them with the dirtiest (& most delicious) of dream- punk frivolity. Their songs will make you want to dance.

Check out their blog for more sights and sounds, order their music on vinyl (I promise you will not regret it) and do anything you can to hear them play live.

Listen: “Pogo” by Eternal Summers

There are a few reasons I rarely go to shows, and to be honest it’s a shame. First and foremost is the time of day. I’m usually in bed by 10:30PM, which isn’t conducive to witnessing live music. Second is the awkward moments prior to showtime — inevitably, I am that guy standing in the corner against the wall pretending to be absorbed in texting or Facebooking or Tweeting because, despite arriving 45 minutes after doors, the first band is still nowhere near starting. And I tend not to know anyone either. But really, this is all the precursor to the amazing. Yes, Hey Marseilles blew my socks off.

Hey Marseilles is one of those great orchestral pop bands. You know the kind — they really get into the music, the orchestral part namely, but don’t go overboard with the theatrics. As the band launched into my personal favorite, “Gasworks”, I was reminded of The Decemberists, but without the penchant for fictitious historical stories, fake vocal accent/drawl and the stage-meets-theater performance style. Don’t get me wrong; those elements make The Decemberists a wonderful band to see live. But the lack of them here made Hey Marseilles a shining star.

There wasn’t much side-banter, a few words by the frontman here and there between songs and that’s it. But where they lacked in spoken word, they made up for in performance.

For once, I spent the majority of a show away from stage front, only stepping up briefly a few times to snap a photo or two with my iPhone. The experience was slightly different, the crowd no less exuberant than they were in Seattle or Portlant, only slightly less pushy and passive. People were friendly, understanding; they were there to see a great band put on a great show and they were happy that others came along for the ride as well.

Hey Marseilles picked up on the vibe, and with a big Saturday crowd they couldn’t be more pleased. As they bowed out with their big song, “Rio” everyone went nuts. Wild cheers turned to a chant: Encore they repeated, over and over. The band returned to treat us to the only song they hadn’t performed from their album To Travels & Trunks, “Cigarettes”. Then they played a new one.

I haven’t stayed up past 1am in a long time, and just saying that makes me feel really old. Watching Hey Marseilles perform that evening in Bellingham made me realize something: I need to go to more shows. It was fun, hanging out with a few new friends and seeing a band for the first time in what seemed like forever. And Bellingham is bristling with great young artists worth seeing, as well as having a few solid venues and a stream of bands stopping by on their way between Seattle and Vancouver BC. Thanks for teaching that to me, Hey Marseilles.

Someone once told me music is a spiritual experience; to listen to it is to allow ourselves to become a part of something intricately beautiful, difficult, and communal. Indeed there is something irrevocably spiritual about the music of Horse Feathers; a depth and lushness in their simple tone and candor that lifts us into a place of rumination.

Seeing them play live last week swept me into such a place allowing for the coziest of winter evenings. What struck me most about this show wasn’t that I was finally listening to Horse Feathers live (oh joy of joy!) but rather how attentively silent we as an audience were during their set.

Before the band took the stage (even during the opening acts) the room was swarmed with a nervous energy. The moment they started playing, however, we were all carried together into stillness. The venue itself, an old church newly converted into a performance space, was made for Justin Ringle’s wavering vocals and begs for the subtle strength of the group’s instrumental work. Everything about their performance settled in nicely with the bitter winter winds. Their lyrical themes of broken joy and heartache seeped like honey into one’s bones, somehow exuding an infectious anchor of hope.

I feel like that’s the beauty of Horse Feathers music, their ability to sing us through the reckoning while still maintaining a breath of light. Regardless of their heavy-laden temporal themes, or whether we’re listening to them live or through our iPods, record players or computers, their music allows us to be still, to be present. We recognize part of ourselves in their songs; our aches, hurts, strengths, and frailties. We listen to their music and we are reminded of the beauty in brokenness.

Above photos by Adam Ward with Stereopathic Music.

Download: “Belly Of June” by Horse Feathers off Thistled Spring

Download: “Thistled Spring” by Horse Feathers off Thistled Spring

Located in the heart of downtown Spokane sits what might possibly be the most ill coordinated bars on earth. Yes, for an act to play “Baby Bar” (the actual bar area only being a 12 ft by 12 ft room), actually means you will be squeezing you and your gear into a devastatingly small spot next to a couple of pinball machines in the burrito restaurant that makes up the majority of the building (Neato Burrito, without a doubt the best burrito in Spokane.) But, for the likes of Jared Mees & The Grown Children, it’s just another setting for these folk-oriented indie rockers to showcase their irrefutable talent as not only brilliant musicians, but as a live act that is not to be missed when they pass through your city.

The versatility of Jared Mees and friends is definitely what makes them such a unique band to watch strut their stuff. Only a week prior to their coming to Spokane, the Grown Children performed in San Diego to a crowd of 700. On this chilly Wednesday night, the crowd might have been somewhere around 30. But, all stipulations aside, this is a packed house! And the odds that there are many Jared Mees virgins in the crowd are very high. What would be the end result? An entire house screaming, clapping, and overtly jumping for joy to their happy go lucky sing along tracks that simply scream good times, even if the songs are more oriented towards despair.

Jared Mees somehow, probably inadvertently, knew exactly how to be a Portland band passing through Spokane. Their set list was specifically designed to catch the attention of Lilac City natives. They kicked off their set with a few of their more uplifting tracks to include their stellar cut “Tallest Building in Hell”. And just over half way through the show the pulled out a secret weapon that will gain the love of any Spokanite. A cover. And not just any cover. A fucking Weezer cover! Yes, it was the well known “Sweater Song”, but it was the Grown Children’s version of the hipster’s “Hotel California” that was compelling to say the least and really drew the attention of everyone within a half mile radius. Or so it seemed as the breathing room at Neato Burrito/Baby Bar became more and more dense. This is how you get into the hearts of a city full of people who are geographically void of a yearning for too much change. Whether they knew it or not, they played a perfect show for the highlighted location in the somewhat desolate Inland Northwest. But, what would be the highlight of the evening? The highlight was easily when the boys (and Meg!) decided to pull out one of their older and possibly their best track to date, “Strong Black Coffee”.

Yes, a Wednesday night has never been so sweet here in the Lilac City. The Tender Loving Empire’s emperor was in full effect, and his latest round of Grown Children proved just as relentlessly entertaining as well. Although the stage might not have been as large and emasculating as the more hipster friendly spots in his hometown, Jared Mees proved that all audiences were created equal, and all deserve to see a performance they are sure to never forget.

All photos by Ron Trembath.

Download: “Cockleburrs And Hay” by Jared Mees & The Grown Children

The night air is getting chillier here in downtown Spokane. Summer is officially winding down. School started this week, but every hip cat from Lewis & Clark down to Shadle Park High seemed to be at The Empyrean this night. It was obvious they were here mainly in support of a few of their friends, known as Sassmatrons, coming on stage who, despite their youth, showed an immense amount of energy and potential and a very broad range of talent. Despite having a less-than seasoned approach at stage presence, their fellow All-Agers seemed very impressed over all.

And after a beautiful set from the duo Hosannas (absolutely amazing offspring of the once full band known as Church), Finn Riggins took the stage for the main event. It was nearing the later of half of the ten o’clock hour, so the crowd seemed to be a bit more of-aged, and what appeared to be some very ecstatic and devoted fans of Lisa, Eric, and Cameron.

This fabulous trio from Idaho (and damn proud of it!) have made their way through Spokane as often as Charlie Sheen has been through rehab. And they always steal the show. Tonight was no different. Though Empyrean cannot physically offer the acoustics of some stages in town and in surrounding areas, there is a certain personable feeling when you see a band like Finn Riggins pouring their heart out on stage and pushing their euphoric energy to dancing chicks with John Lennon purses, and the aging hipsters skanking their way back to 1993. The Empyrean proved a perfect setting to hear these guys (and girl) as if they were performing at your bedside.

Lisa Simpson has a certain presence that could only come from experience (had the Sassmatrons not had to worry about a curfew, they might have wanted to take note). With Cobain eyes and a Joplin smile, it’s as though the electricity to her guitar was not being fed from the 120 volts sent to her amp, but the 1,000 volts coursing through her heart out to the crowd. All the while Eric Gilbert wailed on the keys as though his board were Barack Obama. He pushes, beats and simply punishes them with the might of the GOP, but in the end the resulting sound and beauty go undeterred. And Cameron Bouiss is a God-damned lumberjack on the drums! This is not only because his stature makes his kit look like it was made for toddlers, but his speed and charisma is so smooth it’s downright breathtaking.

Finn Riggins is a phenomenal musical experience overall. Although they have been deemed as an experimental folk group, it doesn’t seem fair to do so. The band also moves through so many elements of pop, folk, funk, and all up-it-in-that-ass rock and roll. If “experimental” means engulfing several different styles to create something entirely unique (is that the real definition?), then it may be reasonable to label them as such. But, let’s be real. This is rock and roll. And on this early September night at The Empyrean, Finn Riggins most definitely rocked.

Be sure to put on your dancing shoes and look for Finn Riggins as they continue to embark on one last West Coast tour before hitting the studio this fall to record a brand spanking new album. The tour will include a show at The Someday Lounge in Portland on September 10th; As well as two appearances at the legendary Fillmore in San Francisco on October 29th and 30th. And of course, several sweet gigs of equal importance along the coast. Find out where on their website.

Download: “Dali” by Finn Riggans

Download: “Wake (Keep This Town Alive)” by Finn Riggans

Adorned in a heavy, lo-fi reverb, The Mallard plays light, fluffy garage pop music that a few friends have been raving about of late. They hit me up, thinking I’d like it, and they were right. The band boasts four members; what’s unique, however, is that they all belong to the same body. The body is that of a woman simply titled Greer. The right foot gets the kick drum, the left the hi-hat tambourine. The arms and fingers play guitar, and vocals are left to the mouth. It’s an interesting perspective in which to describe your band, but it fits The Mallard to a T.

So now for the gritty details. The Mallard is heading up the coast from her home in San Francisco to play a few shows. Starting in her hometown on Wednesday, she’ll make a two day trip up to Bellingham for a Friday show, zig-zag down to Portland on Saturday and hike back up to Seattle on Sunday. Not necessarily the route I would have selected, but if it keeps her in the Northwest a little longer that’s all fine with me.

After all, The Mallard has one of those must-hear sounds. In fine form, I’ve included a few of those sounds, “Old Hates Tatesale” and “Ex”, below for your listening/downloading pleasure. Below that is a video of her performing live – a little teaser for the upcoming performances. As I noted to Sound on the Sound’s Abbey, I may have to trek it up to Bellingham on Friday to check this one out…

THE MALLARD WEST COAST TOUR
08.25: Kimo’s Bar & Penthouse Lounge in San Francisco
08.27: Plan B Saloon in Bellingham
08.28: House Show in Portland
08.29: Bourbon in the Columbia Theatre in Seattle

Download: “Old Hates Tatesale” by The Mallard

Download: “Ex” by The Mallard

Magic (tenetivley…sorry mike) by The Mallard from Elliott Johnson on Vimeo.

The stars aligned, and the patio was full. It was another beautiful cigarette burned night in the great city of Portland. And gracing the stage on this weekend’s eve night was none other than one of the finest gaggle of neanderthals to grab a few instruments, as well as a few dozen pints, and put on a display of some of the most exciting world music you could ever hear. The Fenbi International Superstars were out in full force to celebrate Hop & Vine’s 2nd anniversary as an establishment! Mike, Todd, Orion, Riley, and Kris are a group of ill-mannered and well-tempered gentlemen that you’ve probably only read in books about the origin of counter culture. All that estranged and diluted history of the age old Beats, comes back to life through these powerfully talented band of new age merry pranksters.

Kicking the show into gear with their demon acknowledging and soul searching cut “Two Miles From Home” was without the first, and probably only, smooth move the guys made throughout the night. After that, our heroes took off on another hour long voyage in search of a good time. And just as Kerouac only loved the made one’s who “never yawn or a say a commonplace thing”, you would have to be an absolute bore to not find the beauty in this slightly off-natured group that could outshine Gogol Bordello any day of the week.

Michael Phillips without a doubt understands the power of stage presence. Sometimes audience participation has to be taken. It’s as though Mike wants to make sure that you know one thing – you are there to watch them perform for them, not you. And through this entirely excellently conceived theory the guys “burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow Roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars” as old Jack would say. It would be in your best interest if you find yourself out on one of these dusty nights in the city of roses, that you stop on through wherever you think good times are meant to be had. There is a grave possibility that lurking in the shadows of drunken sailors and poets, critics and thieves, The Fenbi International Superstars surely will be there.

Directly across the street from The Empyrean’s new location stands a major franchised coffee shop that can very well remain nameless (although, not Starbucks). But, there doesn’t seem to be a gathering of Spokane’s youth decked out in their finest Value Village attire outside of their shop on this fine July night. Is the coffee better here? Or is that strange, mildly majestic indie rock that pours from their doors? I’m really guessing it’s the latter. Although the coffee is quite good as well.

The Oregon Donor was the surprise hit of the evening to say the least. Going second in a lineup of four is always a daunting task. You’re not quite kicking things into gear, and you’re still more than a stone’s throw away from the headlining act. But when it comes to this indie rock treasure, they could be playing outside under the massive collection of recyclable PBR cans around the corner, and they would still turn out a great performance. They proved that beyond a reasonable doubt here in Spokane with their own brand of rock n’ roll energy. While accompanying acts were solid, a content and conscious viewer would be able to tell that The Organ Donor’s short but sweet set stole the night, all before the sun even went down.

Christopher, The Oregon Donor’s own Robin Hood, has a personable stage presence that is tasteful and overall comprehensive. The band as a whole plays with the unity of college theatre production, but Kyle Holland (drums) is an obvious standout for his ability to use up every square inch of acoustic possibilities that a stage has to offer. His stick work was probably audible even for the oldest of couples strolling down Riverfront Park, several blocks away. Loud but tasteful. Exactly as rock was meant to be.

Though the finale act, And I Was Like What?, put on a compelling piece of indie rock stage art, those who came to the Empyrean on Wednesday night unbeknownst to who the hell this cleverly titled band from Anacortes even were, have a hell of a good idea who they are now.

As a special promotional treat, Burning Building Records is offering The Oregon Donor’s 2009 album, A Pageant’s End, as a free download until the end of July. The band will hit the studio soon to record their follow up record soon.

Download: “Morse Code” by The Oregon Donor

My first Calvin Johnson live experience was in Moscow, Idaho at a little cafe. He stood on this little rickety wooden chair that looked as though it was about to collapse. The room was dark and he towered over everyone. He hit The Business on Saturday at What The Heck Fest and, like that first experience, this one was packed. I could hear him in the background, but the sheer quantity of people packing the small Anacortes record store kept the visuals at a minimum. Thankfully, I had a chance to see him perform yet again that afternoon at Causland Park, this time with the backing band The Hive Dwellers.

Johnson is entertaining in any setting. He plays with words both in song and side banter, nearly always with a humorous tone. With The Hive Dwellers, however, these elements are exaggerated. He strolled across the lawn sans a microphone, holding his trusty acoustic guitar and singing in his signature deep voice, occasionally moving and twisting his body awkwardly to the cool drum beat and hip keyboard accompanying him. The performance was astounding, the banter less than his solo stage presence, and the music perfect for Johnson’s brilliant demeanor.

The Gift Machine is Dave Matthies, who has been writing, recording and performing under the moniker, to my knowledge, since at least 1999 when a track or so of his appeared on a now out of print EP adequately titled Stuff Vol. 1. As many projects with roots in Anacortes and Olympia go, this one hasn’t always been just about Matthies. It has featured the honorable Phil Elverum (Microphones, Mount Eerie) and Karl Blau, among numerous others. Matthies is also one of the founders of What The Heck, so his presence makes perfect sense given his more recent transplantation to San Diego.

For the Fest, Matthies took the stage with a female percussionist, playing rough, rock-meets-pop tunes that would flirt with both the garage and bedroom pop sub-genres. As a duo, the band was comfortable filling a slightly minimal space, yet they didn’t refrain from packing their short set with plenty of harmony. One moment, they’d rock with a loud tune only to switch gears on the next song and focus on soft melodies and tranquil vocals. They do all of it with a hint of fuzz and the efficacy of romance.

During the show, a gathering happened nearby. Calvin Johnson was joined by Elverum and Blau. I took a candid shot, as their attire was too good to miss…

Some people grew up with The Beatles or The Beach Boys. Others with Neil Young or the Stones. Some even grew up with AC/DC. In my household it was always James Taylor. My dad was obsessed with the man; no other artist yielded more playing time on the record player (and then later the CD player) than James Taylor. Being a typical kid, I didn’t like it. I had my own style of music. Time passed and early teen became late teen, then twenty-something. And then I changed my mind. I began to see merit in my dad’s steadfast appreciation of Taylor and his music. But I never got around to seeing him live.

The other weekend I was in Portland (well, across the river in Vancouver) for my grandmother’s 90th birthday and my parents picked up a ticket for me to see James Taylor and Carole King perform at the Rose Garden. As this was the first time attending a show of his, I was pretty excited.

The joint tour was (and is, as it continues across the states) in support of the duo’s release Carole King and James Taylor: Live at the Troubadour CD/DVD combo, available now. The release debuted at #4 on Billboard’s Top 200, and sold more than 75,000 copies in the first week. The album was recorded when the duo, accompanied by their original band including Danny Kortchmar, Leland Sklar and Russell Kunkel, attended the Troubadour venue’s 50th anniversary.

Taylor and King, at 62 and 68 respectively, are lively performers. They dashed across the rotating, circular stage at the Rose Garden like teenagers. “A Natural Woman” found King jumping from one space to the next, while her other hits found her more often than not at the piano. Taylor, too, moved around a bit, though he perched comfortably on a stool for the hit favorite “Fire & Rain”.

The Taylor/King duo played all their hits. I, having grown up with Taylor, was familiar with all of his. “Carolina In My Mind”, “You’ve Got A Friend”, “Mexico”. Of note were “Sweet Baby James” thanks to a stellar vocal performance by one of the lead backup singers (apologies, as I cannot remember his name), and the crowd went wild for “Steamroller”.

With an intermission and two encores, the performance lasted nearly three hours and received several standing ovations. It was their first performance in the states, having just returned from a few international dates, and their set was fresh. While I prefer the raw early stuff, I’m not above giving masters like these a hefty nod when they deserve it. James Taylor and Carole King definitely deserve it; their abilities remain sharp and they still know how to give an audience a great time.

The above photo of James Taylor and Carole King was taken at the San Jose performance of the Troubadour Tour and is courtesy rocor.

All photos copyright Sara Montour. Words by Fense.

There’s a personality to The Album Leaf that is unquestionable. Their melodies are sweet, adorned with pleasing and hypnotic, dreamy rhythms. Split between swirling dulcet instrumentals and love-at-first-sight vocal tracks, they truly are a band of which to take note. And they have been for some time.

Most of us are pretty familiar with their more recent work, the albums post signing to Sub Pop: In A Safe Place and Into The Blue Again. Well they’re back with their third album on Sub Pop and fifth album overall. A Chorus Of Storytellers came out earlier this month, and The Album Leaf is on tour in support of that release.

A friend of FensePost, photographer Sara Montour, caught The Album Leaf in Seattle last weekend. Here are some of her shots…

The Album Leaf: Falling From The Sun [mp3]

All photos copyright Sara Montour. Words by Fense.

Gosh, was it really as far back as 2007 that Get To The River Before It Runs Too Low was released? That time seems so long ago, and a lifetime of experiences have occurred since then. I recall being taken aback upon first hearing “You’re A Wolf”. It had that special power — those hook filled vocals and powerful guitar riffs were gripping then, and their strength surely hasn’t lessened a drop.

Now, to be honest, I haven’t heard much (or even thought much) about Sea Wolf in the time since that EP and their debut LP, Leaves In The River, were released in ’07. But I sure did take note when I caught wind of their sophomore album White Water White Bloom was announced. And “Stanislaus”, the single they released for public consumption, had that similar sleepy folk-pop sound, packed to the kilt with superb guitars and a catchy chorus.

Last weekend, new Seattle resident and FensePost friend Sara Montour headed out to Neumos and caught the band live. Accompanying this post are several photos documenting the performance. But first, here’s “Stanislaus” from What Water White Bloom for your enjoyment as you peruse the pictures.

Sea Wolf: Stanislaus [mp3]

You’re nuts if you pass up a chance to see Microphones perform live. After all, they’re typically billed as Mount Eerie these days. Essentially, they’re the same band and the music they make is, for lack of a better term, eerily similar. For the final performance Department of Safety would ever have, Microphones were the obvious choice of performer to conclude it all.

Lo-fi as all hell, perfect for DoS’s garage-site venue, and playing what Phil Elverum dubbed as a set filled with (if my memory serves me well) “songs about death, ghosts and mourning.” I think he slipped in one about morning as well.

The set was primarily acoustic, never quite slipping into that epic electric noise guitar that made Wind’s Poem (Mount Eerie’s 2009 LP) a favorite from last year. Still, it couldn’t have been a better farewell to a long-time Anacortes landmark for the music fan.

P:ano‘s Nick Krgovich (No Kids) has been a busy man of late, what with his recent project Gigi with producer Colin Stewart (Black Mountain, Destroyer). Yet he managed to swing by Department of Safety for a brief performance as his older, much earlier moniker P:ano. Solo, Krgovich stood with a white Casio keyboard and mumbled melodically into microphone. It was minimal, quiet, yet beautiful all at once.

While many would find more praise with his recent work – the R&B-pop nature of No Kids or the 60s do-wop pop of Gigi – P:ano was a return to a simpler time, one less concerned with the pretension of modern indie. It made the performance honest, giving the event a very current presence. Minimal music can do that.

All photos by Andrew Fenstermaker.

You may know Arrington de Dionyso from his other alter ego as the front-man of Old Time Relijun. When I saw the band open for HEALTH at SXSW back in 2007, it was one of those special moments – the kind you never forget. Shows like this, ones with wild stage antics, are the best to photograph and the best to watch. Grabbing a bass clarinet, an instrument whose presence is odd in virtually all forms of music with exception to classical, de Dionyso crafts breathtaking chaos.

As he recently pointed out in a comment, the band’s full name is Arrington de Dionyso’s Malaikat dan Singa, and the folks from LAKE that performed with him (Andrew Dorsett and Mark Morrison) are actually in the band, among a few others.

With a growl and rants sung in Bahasa Indonesia, songs don’t typically come much stranger. But backed with consistency in percussive tribal beats and an occasional concussive epic guitar melody, they’re also quite captivating. Summing it all together, it’s trance punk. In a live performance, the music allows one to transcend reality into a seemingly alternate universe, one personable to the David Lynch’s of the world. You’ll leave a changed individual.

All photos by Andrew Fenstermaker.

Arrington de Dionyso: Tak Terbatas [mp3]

Arrington de Dionyso: Mani Malaikat [mp3]

Before we launch into the rest of the photos, here’s a video of “Mani Malaikat”:

Toward the end of his set, Karl Blau announced that there was a questionable stench stemming from his attire, which had been stashed in his shed for an unknown quantity of years. A local Anacortes favorite, Blau’s bizarre folk absolutely warrants the preceding freak – a term that common folk might attach to a musician performing while dressed as a fireman. Though, with LAKE as his backup, it sounded (and looked) almost too natural.

True to the evening, even with full instrumentation accompanying Blau, his music radiated a minimalism far below the swanky beats of his recent LP, Zebra. Gone were the horns, the disco beats, the woodwind instruments; but added were some excellent synth lines and choppy percussion. And also true to the evening, all were welcome to sing along.

I’ll let the pictures do the rest of the talking. Here’s “Dark Sedan” from Zebra (K Records) for some audible accompaniment.

All photos by Andrew Fenstermaker.

Karl Blau: Dark Sedan [mp3]

Here’s a video Ola Hungerford (Dandelion Gold, Cock & Swan) took of Blau’s performance:

Karl Blau with LAKE 01/30/10 from Ola (Dandelion Gold) on Vimeo.