THE RUDDS
Toad, Somerville MA
8/30/09
The Rudds’ final night of another month long John Powhida residency reaffirms everything I love about the band. It is bittersweet in that the band is no more—their last show was over 14 months ago. But as the packed room testifies, there is something special about the Rudds. It’s difficult to avoid hyperbole when describing music that hits me in such a visceral, life-affirming way. Early favorites like “Dance With Me” and “Something Great” are the musical equivalent of everything new and exciting in life. Shifting melodies, witty lyrics about love and life, and not always predictable chord changes build, layer and explode at the bridge, unleashing emotions of hopefulness and joyful abandon. Vocal sidekick Andrea Gillis’s low, throaty voice is the perfect foil for John’s, with its cutting clarity. Whether singing about eccentric urban characters (“Downtown Freddie Brown”) or a slightly twisted love affair (“Roslindale”), Powhida not only brings the rock and soul, he tells a story. The band (Tony Goddess, Nathan Logus, John Brookhouse, and Dave Lieb—and Jim Zavadoski on one tune) show much power and finesse and are more than up to the task of backing up their singer’s showmanship. Whether it’s the soulful balladry of “Keep My Love,” the mysterious delicacy of “F# Into C”, or the ballsy swagger of “Gotta Get Out of Rhode Island” (new), Powhida’s talents are at the forefront of the band. Near the end of the set, the polka-dot shirt and tie wearing Powhida stands on a chair—the man demands to be SEEN. There aren’t many people in our rock scene with this sort of charisma (and wicked sense of humor), so when you find one, my advice is to sit up and take notice—or better yet, dance and sing along. (Misty Lane)

JASON BENNETT & THE RESISTANCE, LENNY LASHLEY & FRIENDS, DEATH & TAXES
Harper’s Ferry, Allston, MA
9/5/09
This is the first Death & Taxes show since singer/guitarist Jeff Morris moved to Chicago, but as bassist Mike Savitkas would later tell me, it’s no big deal because playing in Death & Taxes is like riding a bike or getting laid; you don’t forget how to do it. Well, I haven’t ridden a bike in a while, but the set proves his point, as Death & Taxes is in fine form, the only misstep being the flubbing of some improvised lyrics on a still enjoyable “For the Money.” The crowd eats up the more raucous numbers like “Orange Line,” but it’s the slower ones that shine brightest, most notably the “heavy mellow” as Morris puts it of “Green River,” a chilling tale of a young woman’s rape and murder that simmers along until it explodes via a face-melter of a solo from Morris, who is in virtuosic form on this night. A couple of strong new songs prove that Morris’ relocation thankfully won’t spell the end of this band.

While the return of Death & Taxes is certainly welcomed by the crowd, there’s no mistaking that it’s Lashley, whose public appearances have been exceedingly rare as of late, who is the evening’s main draw. Joined by Darkbuster bandmates Amy Griffin and Danny O’Halloran (all of whom are decked out in T-shirts with a picture of serial concert attendee and notoriously nice guy Rob DeWitt), Lashley treats the audience to a stripped-down set of covers, Darkbuster tunes and a couple new songs. The decision to open with a take on the Cops theme is a bit odd, but it’s followed with Darkbuster’s “Try to Make It Right,” a straightforward, heartbreaking plea for redemption that better establishes the mood. The covers are a bit hit or miss. The trio finds the soul in Kiss’s “Hard Luck Woman” and the passion in Billy Bragg’s classic “A New England” (the set’s high point), but I can’t get behind an Eagles song in any situation. Lashley’s sandpapery voice is emotive and effective throughout, providing songs like “Good Times” a sense of melancholy that isn’t as obvious on record; Griffin’s her usual aces self on both guitar and melodica, and O’Halloran deftly keeps the whole thing tethered. When the set ends, the crowd erupts into a chant of “Lenny! Lenny!” It’s as genuinely sweet a moment as you’re likely to encounter at a punk rock show. Here’s hoping we get to see Lashley a lot more often going forward.

Poor Jason Bennett & the Resistance. Following Lashley on this night is a less than enviable task. Much of the crowd seems to have spent its allotment of energy for the evening, and it’s also getting kind of late. When the band takes the stage, much of the audience has either left or retreated to the back corners to talk. Unfortunately, JB&R is one of those bands that really tend to feed off the crowd, and as a result, their set seems less dynamic than usual. That said, smart and impassioned numbers like “Edge of the World” and “Hope Dies Last” still strike with force, and the group genuinely seems so happy to be part of such a great bill that it’s hard not to walk out of the club with a smile on your face. (Kevin Finn)

THE BLACKJACKS (reunion), THE NEW ALIBIS, CLASSIC RUINS
T.T. the Bear’s, Cambridge MA
6/20/09
Better late than never for this, and that applies cryptically to much of tonight’s shenanigans. For instance, many of the young’uns in tow weren’t even born when Classic Ruins started out. What hasn’t already been said about them? Not enough, if ya ask me, and even if ya don’t. They’re tough, smart, funny and tuneful, which is a rare all-in-one coup for any band, but these yokels could do it in their sleep and, remarkably or otherwise, just keep getting better. Frank Rowe’s sandpaper-dipped-in-molasses voice suits his wry lyrics splendidly (although the sound mix is not kind to him tonight), and Carl Biancucci is as busy-yet-tasteful a bassist as you’ll ever hear anywhere (as in ever, anywhere). Subject matter covers all the crucial topics, from physical maladies (“Heart Attack”) to chemical solutions (“Nyquil Stinger”) to heartfelt, romantic longing (“Geraldine I Need Money”). In short, they show the whippersnappers (and the rest of us) how it’s done. They’re State-of-the-Lost-Art.

While still in their own early stages, members of the New Alibis have decades’ worth of collective trenchwork behind ’em, and it sounds like it. My immediate impression is that their sound is just too big for the room, and I mean that in the best possible way. It’s a steady roar that still never smothers the arrangements. The material is of the sincere, blue-collar anthem variety, mixing up old and new sensibilities while never lapsing into shtick. Almost like later Social Distortion if that band didn’t suck so consistently, but with scads more thwack and deliberation. Perfect for drinking, but just as good for not, another rare double-whammy these days. While all of ’em are in seamless lockstep, it should be mentioned that bassist JulieTwoTimes and drummer Jesse Von Kenmore make the perfect rhythm section for such an attack. With the right songs (and they’re almost there), they could blast outta this town like a megaton burrito fart.

Although an avid fan of (Blackjacks ringleader) Johnny Angel’s current (unrelated) activities (far, and far-removed, from the trails he blazed here long ago), I must admit I was never that big on his projects back-in-the-day, mainly because (with a few exceptions) I was still emerging from my high-school art-fag haze. While Angel was serving meat and potatoes (and an occasional helping of corn-y), I was off looking for the cheese-and-sweets tray. By the end of their set tonight, I’m smackin’ my forehead like the douche in the V-8 ads, wondering what the fuck I’d been thinking all those years. It’s the original three-piece line-up, and all the hits (yes, hits, and not just locally, not even just in the U.S.) are here, in all their grim-but-redemptive, wickedly infectious wise-ass whomposity. There is death, disease, and marvelous black humor in these songs, and they’re played hard and desperately, as if for the last time (which, sadly, it may well have been). Fuck. Better late than never.

Mark Lind & the Unloved headlined this show, I regret that I was unable to stay, heard great things. (Joe Coughlin)

THE SUMMER VILLAINS
Bull McCabe’s, Somerville, MA
8/28/09
It seems like tonight will be just an ordinary Friday night. Avoiding an oncoming thunder and lightning storm, a small group of friends and I duck into what seems like a nice, cozy, little bar called Bull McCabe’s just as the Summer Villains take the stage. Being so happy just to get out of the rain, we don’t notice that we’ve walked straight into a hive of zombies gathered to hear their favorite band. We’re too scared to move, so we just order a beer and sit at the bar, hoping to blend in. I put on my most menacing scowl and drag one foot slightly, hoping to blend in with this pack of monsters. The band, unfazed by the wraiths tune in on the stage, pick up their instruments and one by one play some country rock and Americana that would even make the ghost of Johnny Cash smile. A few members of the undead audience start calling out for their favorite Summer Villains song called “Beach Cats.” It’s extremely catchy little song about, you guessed it, beach cats. The band, knowing that their very lives depend on the outcome of this song, try to hold off on playing it until finally they have no choice. Fortunately for them, it’s a success. The crowd goes nuts; zombies are doing the hoedown and ghoulies are stomping their feet. The band finishes the song and things settle down for a bit, but the audience still wants more “Beach Cats” and continues to request the song even though its already been played. At this point, the band starts to get mad, and with a howl, their skin transforms into a collection of hair, claws, and muscles. Suddenly I’m staring at a pack of ferocious werewolves. The drummer doesn’t transform, he’s apparently just filling in tonight. The lycanthropes leap out into the crowd, mauling and mutilating the horrified onlookers. I decide I better leave. Unfortunately, a few of my friends don’t make it out, but you know what they say about escaping a pack of ravenous werewolves; you don’t have to be the fastest runner, you just have to be faster than the slowest runner. (Kier Byrnes)

MAGIC MAGIC, PRETTY & NICE, YOU CAN BE A WESLEY
Boston University Central, Boston, MA
9/11/2009
Bass beats through the walls as I walk down the back stairs at BU Central on Friday night—is this the right place? You bet. Friday starts out with student DJs spinning beats for the largely student-based crowd sporting everything from country club argyle to SoHo vintage originals. Everything remains relatively calm until the free Rockstar kicks in after the WTBU giveaways and the DJ puts on some Passion Pit, a rising Cambridge-based indie electro group. Commence, dance party.

All of this only grows when Saara Untracht-Oakner of You Can Be a Wesley jumps on stage in her tiger themed onesie and starts belting out the upbeat “Stuck in a Battle.” With video illustration to back them, thanks to Boston College’s Ryan McDaid, the indie pop quartet sets the tone for the rest of the evening, playing mostly off their recently released album Heard Like Us featuring single “Creatures.”

Next up, Pretty & Nic—don’t be fooled by the glittering pink drum set. This Allston, Mass. based group is bursting with uniquely composed indie rock songs designed to blow your mind until you’re jumping around and knocking things over with them. As the video show continues Pretty & Nice open with the haunting dissonances of “Piranha,” building energy with hit song “Grab Your Nets” and catchy single “Tora Tora Tora”–and guitarist/vocalist Jeremy Mendicino on the ground (along with pieces of that lovely pink drum set). After premiering new song labeled “Capsules” on the set list, they end their set emphatically with a cover Blink 182’s “Dumpweed” (naturally) and VJ McDaid screaming into the mic alongside good friend and guitarist/vocalist Holden Lewis.

Finally Salem, Mass. based Magic Magic ends the evening. One of their two, yes two, drummers—the one who famously sports a wolf hat during their performances—celebrates his 21st birthday with the crowd. Magic Magic offers strong indie folk performance complete with John Mellencamp praises as the crowd very slowly disperses, performing such songs as “Sleepy Lion” and “All I Know.” All in all, a good night on the indie underground scene in Boston. (Ashley Schneider)

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We get a lot of calls and emails from bands requesting coverage of their live shows. Please be advised that shows are never assigned for review. Noise writers cover what they choose to attend. It’s logistically impossible for us to honor or acknowledge these requests. The Noise has always had its ears close to the ground in Greater Boston. If you’re doing something even remotely exceptional, we’ll be the first to tell the world. If you’re horrible, same thing.

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