Fauxchella VI Recap

Yours truly, about to have the weekend of his life.

First off, this is going to be much more of a “multimedia” post than this blog is used to. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I haven’t been publishing many things on Swim Into The Sound lately. In fact, I haven’t posted anything since August. Whoops. At first, that was kind of just a lack of inspiration. Then, I moved across the country, and that took a fair amount of brainpower, energy, and attention. After that, my excuse was that I was “settling in” to this new part of the country and enjoying life in my newly-no-longer long-distance relationship. Lately, I’ve been thinking it’s some combination of all those things. My life has shifted around massively, and sometimes things take a while to equalize. 

As I write this, I’m still recovering from Fauxchella VI, which happened smack-dab in the middle of October. If you didn’t read my massive 5,000-word Fauxchella interview/retrospective back in April, I don’t blame you (after all, it was 5,000 words). The gist of it is that Fauxchella VI was a three-day 69-band DIY punk festival that took place in Bowling Green, Ohio. This sixth iteration of this festival kicked off at 2:00 PM on Friday, October 13th, 2023, and played its final notes sometime around midnight on Sunday, October 15th. 

The days were packed with an overwhelming slew of talent, from plucky, fresh-faced newcomers like Saturdays at Your Place to seasoned scene vets like Dikembe. I got to shout along to Equipment, Ben Quad, and Michael Cera Palin. I got to see Carpool fight Summerbruise in a battle set I’ll never forget. I got to shout along to “Pepe Sylvia” and “Fight Milk!” on the same stage on the same weekend. It did my Midwest emo heart good.

The short version is that Fauxchella VI was a three-day all-you-can-eat buffet of riffs and infectious energy, and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. There was popcorn, Jell-O shots, and an endless sea of merch nuzzled in the back, and if you’re anything like me, you are not immune to popcorn, Jell-O shots, or cool t-shirts.

The draw in both fans and talent was immense. Some bands traveled from neighboring Ohio towns, while others hopped on planes just for the opportunity to rip a 30 minute set in front of an adoring sold-out crowd. In my case, my girlfriend and I drove up 12 hours from North Carolina the night before just so we could be there all weekend. I’ve spent the last half-decade of my life listening to, loving, and writing about this type of music, and the opportunity to hear so many essential songs played loud-as-fuck and in-the-flesh was nothing short of life-affirming. 

The whole weekend was a constant stream of seeing bands I’ve loved for years, meeting people whose art I’ve written about, and finally putting faces to the names of Twitter avatars I’ve seen the whole pandemic. It was a beautiful, communal moment, all put together by the lovely people over at Summit Shack. Thank you, Conor, Ellie, and the whole crew, for everything you do, everything you’ve done, and everything I know you will put together in the future. You are the best of us, truly. 

I wanted to recap some of my favorite moments that I happened to catch on video because

1. I want to document this weekend while the events are still fresh.

2. I have COVID, so there’s nothing better to do than watch videos on my phone and reminisce.

3. I want to keep this to the blog so I don’t annoy people on Twitter with an endless spool of emo music posting (at least more than I already do).

Also worth noting that this is not comprehensive, just some of my favorite sets as I saw them and captured them on video. Before we get into my little collection of homemade videos, I’d also like to share that I made this Spotify Playlist of (almost) every band’s most recent material in performance order if you’d like to listen along or just need 39.5 hours of emo music to fill your day. Let’s get into it.

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Saturdays At Your Place

Going into Fauxchella, Saturdays At Your Place was one of the bands I was most excited to finally catch live. I’ve had always cloudy on repeat since January, and over the last ten months, it’s emerged as one of the strongest emo EPs of the year. At first, I was drawn in by the undeniable singalong emo anthem that is “Tarot Cards,” but I soon grew to love every track on the 18-minute release just as much. These days, I’m especially drawn to the cresting bombast of “eat me alive,” which was a marvel to scream along to live. If “pourover” is any indication,” the band’s upcoming split with Summerbruise and Shoplifter means we only have more heaters in the future.

NATL PARK SRVC

Only one band dared to cram eight of their own musicians onto the stage, and that was Minneapolis’ NATL PARK SRVC, whose excellent album Magician comes out in just a matter of days. For 30 minutes, the indie rock septet blessed us with hits from their upcoming record, including hit singles “Smiling” and “Dizzy.” Adorned with trumpet, violin, lap steel, and backup vox, these songs sprawled out into exciting, danceable bits of indie rock that sounded like no other band on the weekend’s lineup. The group also doled out CD copies of their album early so attendees could get a sneak peek at the double album before it hit streaming services. 

Thank You, I’m Sorry

Keeping the Minneapolis train going, Thank You, I’m Sorry took the stage at 6 pm for an absolutely triumphant set. Things began with a stripped-down rendition of “how many slugs can we throw against the wall until we question our own mortality,” which mounted into a gazy full-band wall of noise in the back half. After that crowd-pleasing classic, the band mostly played songs off their excellent sophomore album, Growing In Strange Places, which was released only a few weeks prior. There were fun little dance numbers (Chronically Online), fist-balling ragers (Head Climbing), and a solitary closing number where half the band walked into the crowd to spread a bouquet of flowers. A lovely, intimate, and affirming set from a band that just put out their best work yet. 

Funeral Homes

Chalk this up under “band I never thought I’d be lucky enough to see live,” Funeral Homes is my under-the-radar choice for best shoegaze band currently working. Performing as a three-piece, the trio launched through hit after hit off Blue Heaven, their hazy masterpiece from last year. These songs hit like a truck, and bobbing my head along to “Double Vision” is something I have been wanting to do since this time last year. It’s not often you get to hear one of your favorite shoegaze albums of the year played directly in your face for 30 minutes, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Equipment

While their members have moved around a bit in recent years, Equipment may, for all intents and purposes, be a Bowling Green band. With Toledo just a short 20-some-minute drive up the road, it’s fair to say Equipment had home field advantage when they took the stage at Howard's at 7 pm. The fact that they dropped an excellent EP earlier this year and a killer album just weeks ago meant that this might as well have been a hometown album release celebration, and it certainly felt like it. 

Perspective, A Lovely Hand To Hold

After a short pizza dinner break, we got back just in time to catch the career-spanning set of Perspective, A Lovely Hand To Hold, who made Fauxchella one of the stops on their farewell tour before putting the band to rest. The band took listeners through their discography backward, starting with some cuts off last year’s Phantasmagorialand and winding all the way back to crowd-pleasing classics like “Pepe Sylvia.” The band’s final show will take place at Fest 21 later this month, but I’m just glad I was able to see the New Hampshireites one last time before they put the project to bed—Perspective, Forever. 

Carpool vs. Summerbruise

In what I consider my personal “Main Event” of Fauxchella Day 1, we had a battle set between Rochester’s Carpool and Indianapolis’ Summerbruise. If you’ve read this blog even a little, you’ll know I have a storied history with each of these groups and loving their music. Between Erotic Nightmare Summer and The View Never Changes, these two bands have made some of the best collections of emo music this side of 2020, and to see them both on stage together was practically too much for my heart to bear. For an hour straight, the bands took turns ripping through their hits, trading blows, and swapping insults. After raging at each other and with the crowd for nearly an hour, the two bands squashed their beef, joining forces for a group cover of Limp Bizkit’s “Break Stuff,” which electrified the whole room. Two titans at the height of their power. 

Ben Quad

Ben Quad released the emo album of the year in 2022, and you could really tell as hordes of fans packed in so they could scream every word and note back at them. Pits were opened, fingers were pointed, and guitars were tapped. Performing against a backdrop of Dumb & Dumber clips, the band ripped through the high points of I’m Scared That’s All There Is, as well as their hardcore one-off “You’re Part of It” and songs off their freshly-released two-piece single. If you haven’t been riding the Ben Quad train, this set could have convinced even the most cold-hearted emo hater to jump on board. 

Charmer

I first saw Charmer at Fauxchella III back in 2019, and that set converted me into a lifelong fan. To see the band live again in the same spot four and a half years later only affirmed that they are masters of their domain. We were treated to songs off both their LPs, plus sneak peeks at a couple of upcoming tracks. The cherry on top came when they played “Topanga Lawrence” with live horn accompaniment courtesy of DIY Emo stalwart J-Fudge. A transcendent way to end day 1. 

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Brown Maple

A band that feels primed to be the next Equipment, Brown Maple kicked off day 2 with a rockin’ cover of Katy Perry’s “Last Friday Night,” which made me feel like I was living in an unreleased copy of Punk Goes Pop. Despite some grogginess from the day before, the band quickly whipped the crowd up into a frenzy with their tap-happy riffage, pulling mainly from last year’s EP and recent singles. By the end of the set, a group of fans had stormed the stage, commandeering the mic, getting the day off to a great start in the process. 

Kerosene Heights

Kerosene Height’s first official album, Southeast Of Somewhere, has been a mainstay on my weekly charts and regular listening ever since it was first released at the beginning of the summer. I don’t even really have a great video to share because I spent the entire set up front screaming along to every word, and I guess that’s an endorsement enough on its own. 

Smoke Detector vs. Gwuak!

Early on in day 2, we had our second battle set of the festival as the twinkly Smoke Detector went head to head with the tap-happy Gwuak. Each two-piece commanded their half of the stage, bouncing through hits from their recent records, but the room truly came alive when Smoke Detector pulled out the big guns: a cover of Natasha Bedingfield’s “Unwritten.”

Aren’t We Amphibians

Scheduled up next were Aren’t We Amphibians, who were traveling up from San Diego and just dropped a fantastic little EP, which I was excited to see live. On Friday, their van broke down, stranding the group somewhere in Arizona. But fear not! The DIY community is a vast support network. By the next day, the group had met their Go Fund Me goal and were back on the road to kick off a tour with Equipment… but they would sadly miss their Fauxchella set. This was a bummer until the spirit of DIY camaraderie provided a miracle of a fill-in band in the form of…

MooseCreek Park

I wouldn’t have known about MooseCreek Park if it wasn’t for Swim Into The Sound’s very own Brandon Cortez, who reviewed the band’s new album for this site back when it dropped in July. Thanks to Brandon’s glowing review, I felt like I was in early on the frantically-tapping New Jersey weedmo group. I was ready to witness the frantic tapping of “Ok Dylan” and belt out the chorus of “Pieces,” and while I was sad to miss AWA, swapping them with MooseCreek wound up being a more-than-suitable consolation prize. 

Dad Bod

Yet even more Minneapolis representation, let’s talk about Dad Bod. I hope we’re all in agreement that “Rot” is one of the greatest songs of the 2010s because that’s a given to me. Hearing that song live was an absolute revelation; even though I still want to hear the band blow that instrumental at the end into a wandering outro, but I’ll take it. Aside from that, the band’s live presence created a crushing and engaging wall of sound, all backed by School of Rock’s invigorating middle act. 

Brewster

On from the sad stuff to the yee-haw stuff, Brewster brought the country-fried excellence for a twangy alt-country sway that made me miss the sweet tea back in North Carolina. Interestingly enough, the band is based in Jersey, which is funny since the record feels like an easy recommendation for anyone who used to like Pinegrove. If that’s not enough for you, Brewster also manages to drawl things out into a My Morning Jacket or even Drive-by Truckers-esque bramble, which I always appreciate. 

Okay, rapid-speed through the rest of Day 2 because whew…

Riley! 

Incredible to witness live. Their energy and proficiency know no bounds. The new stuff sounds great 👀

Cheem

Felt like I was witnessing history watching this band play these songs live. People packed in to shake their asses to “Smooth Brain,” as they should. 

Newgrounds Death Rugby

One of my biggest surprises of Fauxchella was how incredible NGDR sounds live. The perfect balance of dancing and moshpitting.

Short Fictions

Also having just put out an awesome album, the Short Fictions set was half new, half tried-and-true oldies. 

Oldsoul

Yeah, there was a Macarena in the pit. You read that right. They started with “High On Yourself,” and I belted along with every word.

Michael Cera Palin 

I’ve been waiting about five years to finally see this band live. They have two EPs, a single, a song on a comp, and a goofy cover of “Soak Up The Sun.” Every song is incredible. I know every molecule to these songs, and part of me couldn’t even believe I was taking them in live. They played the obligatory cover, but everyone knows it’s way better to scream along to “GodDAMN, I need a cigarette!” 

Next, I watched Camping in Alaska and Dikembe respectfully, tiredly, and excitedly, from the sidelines. Good, because the next day started early with a last-minute solo acoustic house show at 10 am from…

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Equipment

Celebrating the five-year anniversary of their (loosely) disowned first album, Ruthless Sun, Nick Zander from Equipment led a basement full of about two dozen fans through a full-album playthrough early on Sunday morning. We huddled up with our coffees and sang along with this rudimentary form of Quippy as Zander padded the time between songs with color commentary and easter eggs. A few lyrics were forgotten, and a few other, newer songs were slipped into the mix, but this felt like a beautiful moment of homecoming and celebrating the album that got the band to their new album, which is the culmination of years worth of touring, songwriting, and turn-grinding. A special thing to be a part of. 

Mango Tree

Two of the members of Mango Tree had just gotten married weeks earlier, but they put off their honeymoon just to play a hometown show surrounded by friends, and lemme tell you, it was worth it. The second time I teared up on Sunday alone, this alt-folk punk set was intimate, therapeutic, and love-filled. A brilliant high note to start the day out on.

Hummus Vacuum

AKA Rivers Cuomo

Yes, that’s the name of the band, yes we brought them hummus, yes they have a song about getting your foreskin taken. Any more questions?

See Through Person

I’m not in the business of betting on the success of a band; I just write about shit that rips. However, if I were to be making bets on who’s preparing to have a big 2024, it’s See Through Person. The Florida-Michigan transplants only have six songs released across two EPs, but not only do they all rip, but the kids came out for this set, making for a sweaty 2 pm prelude to the final battle set of the festival…

Ben Quad vs. Arcadia Grey

Going into this, I thought for sure this was going to be a clean sweep. Then I saw how many people packed in for Arcadia Grey’s set the night before, and I wasn’t so sure. The set began with a kidnapping and ended in a kiss. I love happy endings, especially when a Modern Baseball cover comes before the finale. 

Honey Creek

Easycore is back, and we have Honey Creek to thank for that. I definitively fucked up my voice during this set, screaming along to every word of the band’s just-released Self Preservation. Plus, I always respect a band adopting a uniform, and the all-white get-ups were a nice touch that tied everything together. 

Innerlove.

Another country counterpoint to Fauxchella’s typically-emo-leaning lineup, Innerlove brought the twangy goodness as they played hit after hit off their summery Roscoe. A prime example of the Emo To Alt-Country Pipeline, Innerlove specalize in songs about drinking (negative) and bad decisions (also negative). Luckily, the songs are so fun to sing along to live that you almost forget all that. Bonus points for having the hardest, loudest drummer of the whole weekend. 

Excuse Me, Who Are You?

Earlier this year, I spent about 1k words waxing poetic about the awesome four-track EP from Excuse Me, Who Are You?, so if you want to know my specific thoughts on this band, go read that. In what might have been the most hardcore set of day 3, EMWAY ripped the roof off Howard’s as hordes of fans screamed along to every anguished turn of the band’s screamo set. Fists were swung, pits were opened, and minds were blown. 

Swiss Army Wife

Look, I’ve lived in the Midwest, up in the mountains, and down south, but in my heart of hearts, I’ll always be a Pacific Northwest boy from Portland, Oregon. The same goes for Swiss Army Wife, a tall-as-hell emo crew who flew out from my home state just to give the Midwest a taste of their fucked-up dance-punk. 

Palette Knife

I’ve been a fan of Palette Knife since their first album, but their music sounded almost too precise and too acute to be real. I’m happy to report that, when playing live, these guys can bang out every riff you hear on the record and make them sound even more full of life. It probably helped that a few dozen fans crammed up against the side stage to help scream along to every lyric and thrash along to every breakdown, but wow, sometimes seeing is believing. 

Khaki Cuffs

In one of the most novel arrangements of Fauxchella, Khaki Cuffs’ set found bandleader Brody Hamilton behind the kit as a standalone mic allowed the crowd (and a couple guest stars) to take up vocal duties as the guitars and bass played along with Hamilton’s live percussion. This was my first time seeing Khaki Cuffs live, and it was fun to see these songs in such a novel way. 

At this point, I was drained and practically dead on my feet from three straight days of music festing. The breathtaking Jetty Bones played Fauxchella VI out with their confessional brand of indie rock, and the next day, we were all back to our normal lives. In my case, we were waking up early to check out of our Air Bnb and settling in for a 12-plus hour drive back to North Carolina. We were drained physically, emotionally, and financially, but infinitely satiated by three days of meeting friends and taking in incredible set after incredible set. I felt blessed to see so many of these bands in their best form and watch a countless number of my own favorite emo songs played directly into my face. I may have gotten sick as hell and spent the next three days sleeping off COVID, but Fauxchella VI was everything I ever would have wanted and then some. Thanks to everyone involved, every band that played, and every friend that said ‘hi,’ you make this all worth it, and I can’t wait to do it all again someday. 

This Year Almost Killed Me: The Hold Steady & The Mountain Goats, Live In Chicago

“It was song number three on John’s last CD:
‘I’m gonna make it through this year if it kills me.’
And it almost killed me.

And song number four on that first D4:
‘You want the scars, but you don’t want the war.’
Now that’s just hardcore.
These kids are clever to the core”

Craig Finn wrote those lyrics in Brooklyn in 2005, and used them as the bridge for a song called “Girls Like Status.” It ended up as only a b-side from the 2006 album Boys And Girls In America. It was also the very first song I heard by The Hold Steady.

The first stanza references the chorus of “This Year,” the 2005 folk-rock anthem by The Mountain Goats, interpolated with The Hold Steady’s 2004 debut album title Almost Killed Me. Now longtime residents of North Carolina, but previously from everywhere else in the country, The Mountain Goats are known for their verbose storytelling and emotional vocal deliveries from singer and songwriter John Darnielle. The same could also be said for The Hold Steady, whose albums often feature throughlines of recurring characters. It’s not a surprise at all that fans of one could be fans of the other and that the two men are fans of each other.

D4 is the abbreviation for Minneapolis punk rockers Dillinger Four, longtime friends and fans of The Hold Steady and vice versa. Craig Finn takes some liberties with the original lyrics from their song “Portrait Of The Artist As A Fucking Asshole.” The exact lines read, “Do you love telling your war stories while hiding your scars?” But it wouldn’t be a Hold Steady song without at least one turn of phrase. Finn never actually says “Girls like status” in the song, but rather “Guys go for looks, girls go for status.”

I first discovered The Hold Steady and The Mountain Goats in middle school, and they gradually earned their places in my top ten bands of all time. Two brilliant, unique groups led by charismatic frontmen who have carved out their own indie rock sound separate from any other artist. I consider albums like Boys In Girls In America or The Mountain Goats’ 2002 divorce rock opera Tallahassee among my most important and loved records. Naturally, when it was announced they would be playing a few shows together, I knew I had to be there. I’m extremely lucky that two of those shows just happened to be in Chicago, where I’ve lived in or around my entire life. If all of that wasn’t exciting enough, Dillinger Four was asked to be the opening act for both nights.

The shows took place at The Salt Shed, a brand new, $50 million venue in Chicago’s near north side. It is quite literally a fully converted and remodeled version of the historic Morton Salt Shed, whose operations shut down in 2015. They officially opened for business last summer, but only hosted shows on the outside grounds stage next to the building itself. They finished the interior for a February 2023 opening and have had quite the roster of shows since, including Bush, Iggy Pop, and The Roots. The concrete hall inside can hold 3,500 showgoers between the standing room floor and the seated balconies. Not only that, but the outside grounds have food vendors all night long, and the building itself has a consignment shop (Umbrella Vintage) and a guitar gear dealer (Fret 12) attached to it that are both open during performances. It was in this former mineral warehouse that all three bands’ dedicated fanbases gathered to celebrate the combined decades of highly-loved music.

Dillinger Four (Mounts)

“On that first night…”

Dillinger Four kicked off the weekend at 8 pm on Friday night; the quartet crammed into stage left away from the other bands’ setup to make the post-set changeover as speedy as possible. They made use of their time and space quite well, burning through about 12 songs in their half-hour slot. I’d seen them once before, and I’m certainly not an expert on the catalog, but they sounded excellent on each track, busting out fan favorites like “Maximum Piss & Vinegar” and “Mosh For Jesus.” It was a perfect set to have sworn in the festivities, providing the first burst of energy needed for the rest of the show. Even Craig Finn was visible from the VIP balcony singing along to most of the set, just like a young diehard fan would.

Around 9 pm entered The Mountain Goats, easing into their first performance with “Liza Forever Minnelli,” a song that John Darnielle has noted as one of his favorites to perform live. Seeing him utilize it as the first tone-setter was nice, but something seemed to be a bit off. Whether he was having trouble hearing the rest of the band or figuring out which key the song was in for his guitar parts, it wasn’t totally clear where the disconnect was. Not the end of the world for being the opening moments of the set if he just needed a few extra moments to settle into the groove.

The Mountain Goats (Mounts)

From there, we heard tracks like “Incandescent Ruins” and the seven-minute epic “Hostages,” both from last year’s excellent Bleed Out. One thing was becoming clear with each selection that passed; this was a very atypical Mountain Goats show. Darnielle led the band through mostly slower, methodical tracks the entire time, rarely raising his voice to heights that fans are used to on more energetic cuts. After the already lengthy “Hostages,” they threw in “An Antidote For Strychnine,” which regularly breaches six minutes in the live setting. Even the widely regarded “Dance Music,” which clocks in at just under two minutes on 2005’s The Sunset Tree, was rearranged to a swing number twice the length of the original.

There were still exciting moments where the band rocked through a few of my absolute favorites songs; the finale of 2017’s Goths album “Abandoned Flesh,” the Scarface-referencing “The Diaz Brothers,” and the espionage-western “Waylon Jennings Live!” Darnielle and the Goats began their typical jazzy live intro to their most notable cut, “No Children,” leading the Shed in the nihilistic chorus: “I hope you die, I hope we both die.” It appeared they would follow it with the equally iconic “This Year,” but they were harshly called off stage for going over their time limit after only playing for 55 minutes. An unfortunately abrupt ending to a Mountain Goats performance, already a bit weighed down by the less-than-thrilling setlist.

The Hold Steady (Mounts)

If there’s one band that can restore all energy and power to a room, it’s The Hold Steady. They kicked off their night one show with “Constructive Summer,” one of their most-finger-pointable anthems from 2008’s Stay Positive. Craig Finn is a master at writing lasting mantras in his songs, “Constructive Summer” containing a handful, like “We’re gonna build something this summer” and “Raise a glass to Saint Joe Strummer, I think he might have been our only decent teacher.” It’s also another one of Finn’s songs where he references Dillinger Four, and the crowd shouted the lyric with all their might. “Me and my friends are like ‘Doublewhiskeycokenoice,’” the name of D4’s number one composition and penultimate song choice of their set.

I had assumed these shows would be co-headliners, with The Mountain Goats and The Hold Steady each playing roughly the same set length. Instead, The Hold Steady doubled the Goats exactly in the form of 25 songs that could have very well been a greatest hits set. And I don’t say that as a dig, it was unbelievable how many of their best tracks they played in succession. “The Swish,” “Sequestered In Memphis,” and “Chips Ahoy!” all made an appearance, and that’s just to name a few. It was also exciting to hear songs from 2021’s Open Door Policy and their brand new album The Price Of Progress, since the band hadn’t played Chicago since 2019’s Thrashing Thru The Passion was released.

It was a nonstop rock block the entire set, particularly the jaw-dropping marathon run of “Your Little Hoodrat Friend,” “Massive Nights,” “How A Resurrection Really Feels,” the encore of “Hornets! Hornets!,” “Stay Positive,” “Chicago Seemed Tired Last Night,” and their constant finale of “Killer Parties.” Whatever may have been left desired from The Mountain Goats’ set was remedied multiple times over during The Hold Steady, but at the end of the night, I was just excited to do it all again the next day.

“Then there’s the other part…”

Saturday night began about the same as Friday, with Dillinger Four’s opening set covering most of the same territory as the first time around. Just as fun and energetic, but if they did switch up the set at all, I didn’t notice. But The Mountain Goats left nothing up to chance, rearranging their setup slightly from the night before with drummer Jon Wurster more in the forefront. Not just visually, but musically as well on this night, helping the band charge through a much more intense show. They picked back up where they left off, opening with “This Year” right out of the gate, and it made the room explode. I’d seen them open with “No Children” once as well, and it was so special hearing each at the very start as opposed to the end. With almost no break, they kicked into “See America Right,” the lo-fi blues rocker from Tallahassee and a song that always sounds huge live.

Craig Finn & John Darnielle (Mounts)

They reprised “Hostages” and “Cadaver Sniffing Dog” from the night before, but other than those and “No Children” later on, there were no repeats. It was a night and day tonal shift, this set filled with fist-pumping folk-punk-rockers like “Heretic Pride” and “Up The Wolves.” This set also marked the first collaborative performance of the weekend, with Craig Finn joining the Goats to sing “Palmcorder Yajna,” easily one of the bands’ best hits. Finn delivered his vocals with as much gusto as ever, a clear expert of the track. They closed on another Darnielle-professed favorite, “Spent Gladiator 2,” where he sang most of the track from the barricade pit directly to the crowd. I’m still not sure if the two vastly different performances were intentional or not. As a longtime devotee, and one who has now officially seen The Mountain Goats more than any other band (14 times, brother), it is cool that I got to see the contrast. Maybe it would have been better for casual or even new fans if they spliced each night between fast and loud and slow and quiet, but I’m certain John Darnielle always knows what he’s doing.

If “Constructive Summer” is the second-best Hold Steady set opener, I know the best is “Stuck Between Stations.” But I’m biased, as it opens Boys And Girls In America, my favorite Hold Steady album. Another solid first batch of songs from the Minneapolis-turned-Brooklyn boys, including “Barfruit Blues,” “You Can Make Him Like You,” and “Stevie Nix.” As I expected, they made a few swaps from the newer material on Friday, only repeating “Sideways Skull” from The Price Of Progress. A crop of deep tracks this time around, too, including Mountain Goats saxophonist Matt Douglas joining the stage for “Banging Camp” and “Hostile, Mass.” The one-two punch of “Southtown Girls” and “Slapped Actress” before the encore break was a really special moment as well.

The guys go for looks” (Mounts)

I had only one huge dream for this weekend, one that could have been too obvious and avoided, but it felt necessary. I had heard The Hold Steady perform “Girls Like Status” only once before, at the end of their full album anniversary performance of Boys And Girls In America in 2016. But here they are, once again playing the song in Chicago, and the stars of the bridge lyrics are in the building and on the bill. So Craig Finn delivered the goods, ramping up to the bridge in the middle of the song talking about the specialness of these shows and all of the bands’ music. And what better way to cap off the weekend than having John Darnielle and Dillinger Four vocalist/bassist Patrick Costello sing their lifted lyrics themselves? Darnielle took the mic first, making the very clever adjustment of singing “Song number three on The Sunset Tree.” Then Costello sang verbatim to Finn’s original paraphrase, although ironically, D4 didn’t play “Portrait Of An Artist” in either of their weekend sets. It was an absolutely momentous, once-in-a-lifetime collaboration that perfectly encapsulated the love Finn has for both bands and the love the fans have for the entire roster.

It still wouldn’t be a Hold Steady show without the “Killer Parties” finale, and whereas Friday night I left before most of the guitar feedback and drum fills, Saturday night I stayed until the amps were cut and the house lights went up. I needed to. This year almost killed me. I needed to feel every last second before it was all officially over before I went back home, and I woke up at 6 am again Monday morning, went back to the warehouse, and let the corporate week burn me down again. “Work at the mill until you die, work at the mill, and then you die,” Finn exclaims in “Constructive Summer.” The Hold Steady is secretly great, working-class bar band music behind the sharp storytelling.

It was a crucial experience for me to be at these shows with friends, family, and fans alike. There’s a reason they call The Hold Steady fanbase The Unified Scene. The Mountain Goats have The Pagan Crew, unified perhaps more by bleak upbringings than last calls at local watering holes. If the Dillinger Four fanbase has a name, Craig Finn must be the fan club president, and I’m in for life now. I won’t forget this weekend. “I’m pretty sure we partied.”

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Logan Archer Mounts once almost got kicked out of Warped Tour for doing the Disturbed scream during a band’s acoustic set. He currently lives in Rolling Meadows, IL, but tells everyone he lives in Palatine.

This Is the Scene on 11th Street When Black Midi Comes to Town | Concert Review

During the Year Of No Shows, I often daydreamed of a post-quarantine concert exuberant and outrageous enough to make up for all the nights that venues, once brimming with noisy liveliness, sat empty while musicians and would-be concertgoers alike waited patiently until they could breathe life into these spaces again. Now I’m not saying that a show must be rowdy and ear-splitting in order to be worthy of welcoming live music back from its pandemic-induced hiatus. In the months since tours having started up again, I’ve been blessed with the communal, campfire-like warmth of a Mountain Goats solo show at City Winery, the intimate giddiness of a post-Hurricane set Samia played at Union Pool, and a laid-back summer evening with Bright Eyes, Waxahatchee, and Lucy Dacus at Forest Hills Stadium. Each of these performances was moving and memorable, and each in its own way reminded me of something I’d desperately yearned for during quarantine. But it wasn’t until Tuesday night at Webster Hall that I was able to experience a concert that lived up to the magical, hell-raising insanity of my quarantine daydreams. And it wasn’t just the mosh pit-- though I’d heard from others that the pits at black midi shows go fucking crazy, and this one certainly did not disappoint. Beyond the simultaneously base and divine euphoria of getting tossed around in a sea of sweaty strangers, black midi’s show provided a fully immersive spectacle that felt as weirdly glamorous as it did grotesque. Like a night at the opera if said opera took place in the sewers where the Ninja Turtles live, or like Cirque du Soleil if Cirque du Soleil didn’t suck. From the moment they stepped onstage-- heralded by a faux pro-wrestling announcement that declared them “the heavyweight champions of London, England”  --it was like I’d entered another world. 

The whole scene was unassuming at first. The crowd had me feeling simultaneously too old and too young to be there-- mostly teenagers in Tripp pants and longhaired mid-30s white guys, at least three of whom were wearing Swans shirts. When I overheard a kid behind me in the merch line ask one of his companions, “so are you like, a black midi guy?” I had to stifle the urge to laugh and interrupt their conversation with, “it’s a black midi show; we’re ALL black midi guys.” I heard another group wishfully but doubtfully thinking aloud about whether the band would play bmbmbm, a song that some fans have christened black midi’s “Creep” (referring to both its status as the band’s signature song as well as the band’s seeming distaste for playing it live). Hours prior, bassist Cameron Picton had tweeted that they’d play it if they made $1,200 in merch tips that night. Clearly, this goal was not met (and Cam’s tweet was almost certainly made in jest-- the black midi boys are nothing if not constantly in on the joke), and their breakout track predictably did not make it onto the Webster Hall setlist. 

The band opened for themselves as alter-ego/blues fusion side project The Orange Tree Boys, an “amazing new band out of Las Vegas.” The Orange Tree Boys have previously made appearances at other live shows and on the black midi variety hour. Outfitted in camo, dark sunglasses, and delightfully faked American accents, they performed a short set of improvisational jams and AC/DC covers. Bowie had Ziggy Stardust, Beyonce had Sasha Fierce-- black midi have The Orange Tree Boys. They were followed by a haunting ambient set from Brooklyn-born multi-instrumentalist L’Rain, whose supporting spot on black midi’s US tour follows her residency at Mass MoCa. Her critically acclaimed 2021 sophomore album Fatigue lent itself beautifully to her live performance, her acrobatic vocals and delicately distorted experimental arrangements echoing through every inch of the ballroom. 

Between L’Rain’s set and black midi’s, I listened to a group of guys in front of me figure out their strategy re: opening up the pit-- who would go where, what was the best way to move up towards the front (this was before a few of them chorused “daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry” at black midi’s infinitely memeable frontman Geordie Greep). Of course, all strategy and logic dissipated the moment the lights dimmed and a disembodied voice introduced London’s heavyweight champions. The boys walked onstage to Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York,” which cut out as they began to play erratic Schlagenheim album opener “953.” The song’s starting chords set off an almost Pavlovian reaction in the audience, sweeping us up into a human tornado. As we thrashed about, Geordie alternated between what can only be described as a disemboweled Sinatra cover over 953’s jagged post-punk anti-melody, and the song’s actual lyrics. 

One of the most striking contradictions of black midi’s music is how it’s theatrical yet unemotional. The musical experience they provide is somewhat concerned with feeling, but not so much feelings. Their songs rarely reveal any easily definable emotion. This only furthers their worldbuilding abilities, especially in their live performances. To call what I witnessed at Webster Hall a “concert” almost feels reductive, unable to encompass the depth of the rabbit hole they drag their audiences down. We zoomed through the dystopian urban development of the 2019 single “Speedway” with Cameron and his sinister, monotone vocals in the driver’s seat. On this tour’s live standout, rumored to appear on LP3, “Welcome To Hell,” Geordie became the demonic carnival barker of our nightmares, calling for us to “listen, listen!” and setting the crowd aflame while chanting the names of plagues-- “Cholera! Malaria!” And how can I begin to adequately describe the mass psychosis that was this specific live rendition of “John L,” a song I’ve heard half a dozen live recordings of, all of which sound wildly different from one another. As Geordie reached the verse where he speaks from the perspective of the song’s titular disgraced cult leader, the audience seemed to become the cult itself-- “crowds of every age, creed, and gender...overwhelmed by their king.” Geordie Greep-as-John L’s “gargling non-song” incited what looked/sounded/felt like a collective exorcism, making all of us players black midi’s show.

This was also one of the few moments in which I was lucky enough to get a decent view of Morgan Simpson, quite possibly one of the greatest drummers working today. To hear his intricately crafted chaos on black midi’s records is one thing, but to see him in action is transcendent, his free jazz drumming tying together black midi’s genre-defying sound. Since the band first broke into the spotlight, it’s been clear that it’s Morgan’s intricate yet bombastic rhythms that anchor black midi’s wild sonic landscapes to some semblance of coherence. black midi’s music is like a rickety wooden rollercoaster-- there’s a thrill in feeling like it’s about to fall apart beneath you --Morgan’s drums are like the screws that hold the rollercoaster together, but not tight enough to keep you from wondering “is this safe?” (also, much like my first time riding the Cyclone, I was having so much fun getting knocked around that it wasn’t until later on that I realized that something-- or someone --had hit me in the mouth making me bleed a little). The boys are as in sync with one another as ever, and the addition of touring members Kaidi Akinnibi on saxophone and Seth Evans on keys have helped to fatten the band’s already larger-than-life sound to fill the increasingly spacious venues they’ve been booking since the release of 2021 sophomore album Cavalcade.

Memorable moments from the night went beyond just musical ones. Seth and Geordie sparred with one another between songs, the audience egging them on. Kaidi, in his ruffled shirt and sequined mask, mimicked the disciplinarian sternness of a disappointed teacher as he broke up their “fight” (the end of the show saw Geordie chasing Seth offstage with a toy sword). At one point, Cam hopped down from the stage with a pizza box in hand and passed out slices to the rabid crowd.

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black midi’s chameleonic nature transcends the versatility of their music. Known to make appearances dressed up as chefs, doctors, astronauts, businessmen, and as the aforementioned Orange Tree Boys, they’re always filling out the world of their performances. They’ve struck a perfect balance between how seriously they take their craft and how seriously they don’t take themselves. Their live shows have become masterclasses in the art of Committing To The Bit. Yet their campy, over-the-top presentation never feels like a gimmicky attempt to pander to their audience or solidify their status as a Definitive Gen-Z Band. Moreover, it makes the moments of true beauty and emotional resonance all the more striking. Live favorite “27 Q” had Geordie going full crooner; his vocal delivery was lovely, but it was a loveliness that still fit into the wacky Looney Tunes bullshit of the black midi musical universe. Then came cacophonous closer, “Slow,” in which Cameron’s melodic vocals guided the song to its violent, apocalyptic climax (the image of Cameron standing atop an amp stoically shrieking the word “slowly” over and over again will forever be burned into my memory). 

After the band put down their instruments and gathered at the edge of the stage to say goodnight, Geordie called out to us with a wink that he’d see us tomorrow night, “And the next night! And the night after that! And the night after that! In Hell, where you’ll burn for coming to this show, you fuckin’ sinners! Go home!” If Hell is anything like a black midi show, I don’t wanna go to Heaven.

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Grace Robins-Somerville is a writer from Brooklyn, New York. You can find her on Instagram @grace_roso and on Twitter @grace_roso.

Arise Roots Concert Review

Much like the blues, there’s beauty to be found in the simplicity of reggae. While the two genres share many structural and cultural similarities, reggae, unlike blues, is music often borne of both pleasure and pain. Song topics within the genre can range from personal strife to political revolution, but the lion's share of reggae songs center around an almost borderline-hedonistic approach of happiness above all else. 

I’m not one to discuss the history of the genre, it’s origins, or even the people that play it, but what I can speak to is my experience on June 28th at my first ever reggae concert. 

Occurring on a muggy Thursday evening in Portland, Oregon at the newly-renamed Sirens (fka Analog Cafe), headliner Arise Roots commandeered stage of the venue’s lower bar shortly after 10 pm to an audience ready to vibe out.

Opening with a whir of electronic bloops and a single lightly-strummed guitar, we soon heard two cymbal taps followed by a bass that entered with a monumental riff. Smoke filled the air as the other instruments joined one by one, all falling in-synch with the established rhythm. Soon frontman Karim Israel made his way to the mic and crooned “What’s the fighting for?” over the arid soundscape of spaced-out instrumentals. Shortly after this refrain the drums suddenly kicked into a full-speed gallop, and the group fell into an uptempo groove that instantly got everyone moving.  

The next song in the setlist sped things up even faster, engaging the audience with a call-and-response chorus as Rodolfo Covarrubias’ bass bopped and Karim danced emphatically behind the mic. 

Within minutes I found myself hypnotized by the slow, swinging, steady rhythm of Arise Roots. As I stood witnessing the breadth of music on display, another genre-comparison I couldn’t help but make was between reggae music and stoner rock. Both weed-loving genres that worship, love, and chase the groove above all else.

Arise Roots played as a single well-oiled machine, hitting all the right corners of the beat while also allowing enough room for members to wander off and improvise a solo with enough time to return to their original position. Ron Montoya’s tight drumming held the groove down, Chris Brennan and Todd Johnson shared backup vocal duties while also handling rhythm guitar and keys respectively, and the enigmatic frontman Karim Israel performed his heart out.

Late-set “Nice and Slow” is the band’s latest single, a slow-moving love jam that went over well with the crowd and also happens to be one of the band’s most polished and varied tracks to date.

Check out the official music video for Arise Roots summer single "Nice and Slow." Catch us on the #NiceAndSlowTour with For Peace Band, dates below!

Other highlights of the night included multiple groovy guitar solos courtesy of lead guitarist Robert Sotelo Jr., warm beachy imagery on “Lost In Your Ocean,” and of course the token weed song “So High.”

Overall, the evening cast a genuinely hypnotic spell; Arise Roots are a transportive musical force with the ability to carry you from where you’re standing into the distant reaches of your mind, all without you even realizing it. A force of nature, love, and positive energy.

JD & The Straight Shot Concert Review

There’s something eternally-charming about Americana. The genre embodies the idea that in the face of an ever-changing world, somewhere out there a smaller, simpler, more quaint version of our country still exists. That may not be the reality, but it’s a comforting escapist reassurance to say the least. 

JD & The Straight Shot are a six-piece Americana band fronted by Jim Dolan and backed by an impressive roster of musicians with credits ranging from B.B. King to Robert Plant. Rescheduled after an illness, the band’s Portland stop on May 22nd marked the penultimate show of their current tour opening for the Eagles. 

The evening began with a triplet of subdued drum taps, a call-and-response that select members of the audience quickly joined in on. Soon lead singer Jim Dolan and guitarist Carolyn Dawn Johnson began to harmonize, and just like that, the band was off. As the audience continued to filter in for the main act, JD & The Straight Shot gradually picked up steam eventually hitting their stride by the time the chorus hit. 

As soon as the first song ended, drummer Shawn Pelton began playing in earnest and the group was firing on all cylinders. The guitar, bass, and mandolin all fell into perfect sync. The violin, played by Erin Slaver cut through the mix and shredded its way through the melody while Dolan took center stage belting out his tunes to the 20k-capacity venue.

By far the most enchanting element were the vocal harmonies that seemingly came to the group second-nature. Every band member had a mic in front of them, resulting in a wonderful choral effect of swirling melodies. Sometimes pairing off for alternating rhythms, other times joining together to form a singular voice, the group’s vocals were both effective and powerful. Similarly endearing was the chemistry between the band members. Laughing, smiling, and interacting with each other throughout the set, it was clear that they had as much fun playing the music as the audience was having listening to it

For the fourth song, the group played their song “Perdition” from the 2015 Western Jane Got a Gun. Reminiscent of the western soundtracks of old, the bass rumbled, the guitar jangled, and the drums thunderously kept time as the riff propelled the track forward. Adding a dash of somberness to the proceedings, “Perdition” offered a single moment of reflection before launching into the back half of the band’s feel-good setlist. 

The fifth song “Run For Me” was a jaunty outing set to the horse-like gallop of Shawn Pelton’s drums. A vibrant highlight of their setlist, the song’s best moment came when all of the members paused for Erin Slaver to interject a vivacious violin solo before the chorus kicked back in. Eventually ending with Slaver and guitarist Marc Copely playing dueling melodies. The two got face-to-face while simultaneously bopping up and down in-time with the beat, bouncing lower and lower with each measure. The two got as low as they could without falling on the ground, eventually pulling apart from each other while holding back laughter. It was one of many playful moments throughout the night sparked by Slaver, an obviously-valuable asset to the group’s on-stage chemistry.

Aside from contributing vocal melodies to select songs, it was clear that each member was talented and well-versed in instrumentation, swapping instruments, multitasking, and collaborating throughout the set. At one point, drummer Shawn Pelton picked up a mandolin while also keeping time with his drum kit’s tambourine mount. At the same time, Byron House traded in his bass for a banjo, playing it just as effortlessly as his primary instrument. The concert was a sight to behold, a multi-instrumental, massively-harmonized, and constantly fun bout of country music.

Closing with an excellent cover of Three Dog Night’s “Shamballa,” the group sent the audience off to The Eagles nicely with good vibes and a warm summery feeling. It was a fun 45-minute set that warmed the audience up for the main act and transported us to that America of old, even if it was just for an evening.