Seeking advice or tips about where to send demos

I've seen or heard this phrase many times over the years and I've finally decided address it, since I have some experience playing in bands. I know it might be hard to hear, but the truth is: Don't bother sending your demos ANYWHERE. That's right, you heard me. Save the postage. It's a waste of time and it kills morale (when you get no response or a poor one). The only way shopping your recordings is going to work is if you know someone who owns a label, or you know someone who knows someone who owns a label. And even then, you're better off putting that energy into other stuff, which I'll get to in a moment.

Even the term "shopping" kind of gets my goat these days. Record labels are not malls! They are in the business of making money off of your product, unless they are a small indie or punk label, in which case, they probably won't be able to help you much anyway, other than pressing a CD. Don't mess with shopping your record. The only people who need to have your record are your fans. Remember, the term "fan" is short for fanatic. When there are hundreds or thousands of fanatics for your band coming to see you perform, there will be record labels chomping at the bit to shower you with money, buy you a bus to tour in, and pay for your big budget music video. But that, my friends, is not how it starts. The first thing you should do is figure out how to get your recording in the hands of people that might like your band. Record labels don't care if your music is good or fun or original. They only care if it SELLS. Guess who does care if your music is good or fun or original? That's right. THE FANS.

I have a lot of friends in bands. Really good bands, in fact. The only problem I've noticed is that when they get to a certain age (myself included) they begin to feel like, "Hey, I've been doing this shit for years, and I'm still no closer to achieving my goals than when I started my first band in 9th Grade." This little spike of fear that we may be running out of time starts to affect our judgment. We start to get antsy and try coming up with short cuts or quick solutions. Believe me, I know because I've been there several times myself.

Here's the good news: There are some tried and true methods that WILL WORK if you have the right people in your band and a little perseverance (assuming your music is decent).

1. PLAY SHOWS. I don't care if it's at your local bar or in a friend's basement, you must play, play, and play! If you get paid, put the money in a "band fund", don't spend it on drinks or food. If you don't get paid, that's ok, you can make money off merchandise (see below).

2. MAKE MERCH. Make shirts, stickers, buttons, even coffee mugs for fuck's sake! If it has your band logo on it, someone that likes your band will want to show off that they know about your music, which makes them cool. Guess what? You can help them achieve that! And in the process, you make your band more popular, which gets more people coming to your shows, which later on will attract record labels, etc.

3. GET YOUR MUSIC TO THE FANS. This is where a lot of us get tripped up. We think, "Oh, my last band was on a label, and we had boxes of CDs to sell which made our band very popular. I need to find a label to put out my new project." FUCK THAT! If there is no label at your fingertips, waiting to do whatever you ask, then you need to figure out a way to get your music in the CD or mp3 players of your fans. They are the ones who will decide your fate. There are many ways to do this. You can sell mp3s from your myspace page; you can burn CDs and make cool looking covers, or if you have some dough, you can press a thousand copies with jewel cases or slip sleeves or whatever works best for you, and whatever you think people might want to plop down 5 to 10 bucks for. If you play a show and don't have anything for someone to walk away with, there's a good chance they'll forget about you. Have you ever heard someone say, "I saw this cool band last night." Oh? What were they called? "Uh, I forgot."

4. TOUR. I know, I know. This is the hard part. The most expensive part of being in a band is touring (remember that "band fund" I mentioned). However, it is also the best way to get new fans. If you don't have a booking agent (none of my bands have ever had one) then you need to book the tour yourself. This can be a huge headache, don't get me wrong, but you have to start somewhere. And the first few tours will probably suck, and no one will be there. But if you keep touring, selling merch, and playing your ass off, you'll start to notice more people coming out. Another thing you can do is work out hopping on a tour with one of your friends' bands. Be prepared to invite them to hop on your next tour, though. It's not only polite, it means you get to go on tour again and get more fans!

5. KEEP IT POSI. People will be more apt to get fired up about your band if they think you're doing well. Most people like to feel like they're part of that. If the band is having problems, don't be too hasty to advertise it.

6. GET THE WORD OUT. This includes all of the above, as well as posting bulletins, handing out flyers, and general word of mouth. The more people know about your band, the better.

We've all heard the tales of how The Cranberries got signed from a demo, or how The Cure got their recordings into the hands of influential record executives. There's always more to the story! The Cranberries might have had an inside connection we don't know about, and The Cure were most certainly playing a shit-load of shows, even if it was their demo that got them signed. Remember that band The Juliana Theory? Whether or not you think they sucked has little bearing on what I'm going to say. When they were just picking up steam, EVERYBODY knew who they were. The reason was they were good at getting the word out and were RELENTLESS about it. True, I found this quite annoying at the time, but it sure made them popular. Then one day, a few years later, I heard they signed a million dollar record deal, and were touted as the next Pink Floyd! Word is they gave up complete creative control to the label. Then they disappeared.

Joe Strummer of The Clash wrote a song called Complete Control. He was talking about the artist having control over the art. Don't trust record labels, and don't seek them out in the hopes they will make your band more popular. It's all about the fans. Oh, and write the best kick ass music you possibly can. That helps.

The Fall of Youtube and the End of the Carnivalesque

Because of greedy conglomerates and copyright crackdowns, I can no longer post music videos as comments on my friends' myspace pages. "This video has been removed at the request of Viacom due to copyright infringement issues." Translation: "Viacom wants to control what you watch, and they're going to make money off you doing it."

If you actually find the music video you're looking for on some other site, they tack commercials onto the beginning of any clip, and instead of the handy dandy youtube player that lets you load and watch at your own convenience, they prefer to stream your clip so it hiccups every few seconds if you don't have a great connection speed. Oh, and you can forget the html code that lets you post them.

The only thing youtube has now are shitty live clips and dumb homemade video blogs. Pretty soon, we won't even have the shitty live clips.

The carnivalesque is over my friends. The users are no longer in control. Next time you think of a quirky music video you remember from the 80's or a cool scene from a favorite movie, just know that you can't share it with your friends.
But hey, that's America, right? Any chance to make a buck...

Camera Phone Show Review #5: Deerhoof, Hella, Bus Driver

El Ray
1/24/07

I wasn't really expecting much from this show. I've been a casual fan of Deerhoof for a while, and the other two acts I didn't really know much about. At times during the evening, I was everything from pleasantly surprised to bored out of my mind, and all points in between.




Bus Driver

When Bus Driver took the stage, I knew it was going to be rap music from what a friend had told me. I didn't know whether that meant something like urban hip hop, chilled out R&B, or spastic yelling. What I heard was none of the above. It was just good groovy rap. I've been getting interested in artists such as Ludacris and Jay-Z lately, and have been a long time fan of acts like Beastie Boys and Run DMC, but Bus Driver did not appear to be from the same school as any of those artists. He had an indie rock feel, with a good sense of humor, and an energetic delivery. I could tell he was really giving it his all, and perhaps the audience reaction left a little to be desired. He kept trying to get people pumped up, and when it fell a little flat, he made some subtle jokes about Los Angeles in between verses. I chuckled to myself, as I, too, have been subject to LA's less than enthusiastic crowds.

It also seemed like Bus Driver was a little annoyed with his DJ because he snapped at him a few times (possibly joking) about a beat, saying "You can stop that one now, no one needs to hear that." Near the end of the set, I saw a guy dart out from the side of the stage and whisper something in the DJ's ear. Bus Driver happened to notice out of the corner of his eye, and said something like, "Oh, we're out of time, Ok." He seemed slightly annoyed, and rightly so. They couldn't have been up there for more than 20 minutes. They closed off the set with a very impressive and catchy tune where the vocals were very quick and staccato, somewhat akin to something you might hear from Busta Rhymes. I think if Bus Driver gets a better DJ and puts out more records, we'll be hearing a lot more from him in the future.




Hella

Hella. Where to begin? I won't insult your intelligence by using their name as an adverb to help describe their sound. That would be too easy. If you like Rush, Sunny Day Real Estate, and "Jupiter" era Cave In, you might like this band. I thought it was a horrible waste of my time. Don't get me wrong, they are all very talented musicians, and I'm sure some people's eyes were bleeding in awe with their metal master prowess. However, sometimes the most impressive musicianship is not always the most entertaining. The drummer sounded like 16 different people hitting 16 different drum pieces at random intervals. Neil Pert would be proud. Or would he? At least Rush had catchy choruses. These guys just had a lot of meandering vocals and choppy start-stop riffs. Yawn. Next!




Deerhoof


Deerhoof was so great. Do I sound like one of those twee indie rock kids in the front row that knitted hats with animal ears for the band members to wear? Well, maybe I do, and so what? I have been converted from a casual fan of Deerhoof to an enthusiastic fan of Deerhoof. The drummer was ridiculously good. The guitarist was sick. The singer's voice felt like a lullaby. They rocked. They tore it up. They jammed out and threw down. Everything that annoyed me about Hella was schooled by Deerhoof. They know how to create contrast within their song structure, shaking butts one moment and then pouncing into chaotic math rock the next. They were loud and booming one second, and then delicate and soft the next. Hella, take notes. Last night was Day 1 of Deerhoof's U.S. tour. Go see them. You won't regret it.

Camera Phone Show Review #4: The Slits, Dmonstrations, Mika Miko

The Troubadour
11/17/06

I can see the future. There will be a giant, swirling disc of death from deep space, and the only human beings that'll be spared are the cool ones. Coolness is such an enigmatic, elusive thing, that 99% of the human race will be dust in mere seconds.

Some say coolness is all relative. Unfortunately, the mutant aliens from Sector 'Z' know that it's actually universal and completely static. I recently hit my thirtieth birthday, and my older brother assured me that concerns with coolness will begin to wane as my twenties begin to fade. He was, in a way, proving my point to the fullest, because the main component to being cool is not caring about being cool. So in effect, my older brother is very cool, because he is no longer concerned about it. Although, a bratty kid in spikes and leopard print pants may not recognize him as such. Also contrary to popular belief is the idea that "old" equals "uncool." Look at Iggy Pop. He's almost 60 years old, and he's cool as shit!


Mika Miko

Being cool may save you from alien death rays, but it doesn't always make for good music. Example: Sid's version of "My Way". Fortunately for Mika Miko, they're really cool and make really great music. Part of me wants to finish off that gush of a sentence with a snarky comment, but I'm too cool to be jealous of a young band quickly rising to popularity (recently signed to Kill Rock Stars).

Vivian had seen them open up for the Gossip and described them as being like a slumber party on stage. I asked if she meant the male fantasy kind, and she replied that no, it was, in fact, like a real slumber party. No pillow fights or lingerie, thank god.

Basically, Mika Miko don't give a fuck. They're not concerned about being "hawt" or wearing cool clothes. They just want to rock, and they own the stage as well as the crowd that's watching them. That means they're safe from the vaporizing lasers from outer space.

I bet they don't buy magazines like Cosmopolitan or Seventeen. I'm pretty sure they might even get really annoyed by those kinds of publications. The Go Go's started out as a punk rock band. Maybe if they write some catchy pop songs, they'll become known world-wide. Is that something they're looking for somewhere down the road? I doubt it. Either way, they'll still be cool and rightfully unafraid of death by galactic energy rays.


Dmonstrations

I don't know how, but the Dmonstrations must've gotten word that the flying saucers were invading soon. These guys are trying hard not to get zapped, and the facade is probably pretty convincing to the normal bystander. I, however, have a device that beeps and flashes red and green lights, thereby measuring the coolness of whomever I point it at. The aliens have a similar mechanism called a Zorbium Analyzer. Suffice to say, these guys missed the last train to cool, and they were huffin' it all the way down the station ramp in hot pursuit. The music sounded like they were just fucking around on some new riffs they just made up. The singer was yipping and yowling in falsetto tones, much like the sound of a hyena in heat. Sound cool? It wasn't. It’s like my friend Dave Didonato once said, "Don't try not to try. Just don't try."

Zorbium Analyzer reading:

Coolness = Red
Music = Red
Conclusion = Disintegration Imminent

I later looked at their myspace profile, and honestly the recordings are not as annoying as their live sound. Regardless of whether or not they were trying to be cool, you should check them out and decide for yourself. It’s the cool thing to do.


The Slits

The future invaders of the Earth may have a bit of a conundrum on their hands when it comes to The Slits. I was very excited to see what I consider to be a legendary punk band perform live at The Troubadour. To be honest, I've never been all that familiar with their catalog, other than "Typical Girls" and some tracks from their Peel Sessions. As a result, I wasn't expecting a set that was mostly reggae. They performed the tunes relatively well, with the strong points being the bass and drums, but it still sounded painfully like a punk band trying to play reggae music. Didn't we learn anything from Bad Brains' brief foray into the genre? One thing I've determined over the years is this: Do what you're best at. As soon as they broke into a fast snotty song (about 45 minutes into the set), Vivian and I looked at each other and traded mimed gestures of excitement and relief. For a few tunes, The Slits really rocked the house.

You may be wondering what effect The Slits' return to the world of music will have on their fate when the flying saucers of doom arrive. It's hard to say. They were so cool when they first hit the scene that it's still lasting to this day (and got me to pay the fifteen bucks or whatever it was to get in). On the other hand, some of the aspects of their newly reformed act are a bit suspect.

Between songs, Ari Up (vocals) kept referring to how The Slits were innovators of the punk/reggae genre and how revolutionary they were/are. This struck me as strange because if you were at the show, chances are you had already formed your opinion one way or the other. The other thing that had me guessing was the fact that one of the young girls on stage was apparently the daughter of someone in the Sex Pistols, and her contribution to the show consisted of backing vocals, some tambourine, and sporadic jumping around. It's like they just put her in the band so people would think they were cool, which is not something a band would do unless they were worried about it.

In conclusion, they'd survive the attack, but only just. Perhaps they'd start a resistance army of the marginally cool. Maybe they'd start playing shows to gather support and spread the word against the alien oppressors. In order to unite the rebels more effectively, there probably shouldn't be any reggae in their sets.

Post Script:

There have been a handful of bands on my radar lately of young women making very agro and fun music such as hey girl!, kill kill the nurse, and Finally Punk (in addition to Mika Miko) that are getting support from some of the older women that inspired them to start bands. I think its exciting and a welcome change from the bands boys in their age bracket are doing right now. I'm sure there are a lot of contributing factors to this burgeoning scene of pissed off girl punks, but the recent flare up might be a reaction to all the Panic! At the Disco and My Chemical Romance punk boy bands that are dominating the major rock radio stations and the mainstream at the moment. What a shame the aliens won't show up in time to wipe those lame ass boys off the face of the earth.

Camera Phone Show Review #3: Grave for the Fireflies, Wilmot Proviso, The Fucking Wrath, Glass & Ashes, Dogs of Ire

The Glass House
7/14/06

The show must go on.

That's probably more of an old timey show business saying than in the current punk rock community, but the sentiment is pretty much the same. The idealism, honesty and urgency I remember from the scene in the 90's seems to have died out in recent years, what with the mainstream's faster and faster consumption of underground music, until you can't tell the media creations from the real bands anymore. However, there are still those involved in underground music that still give a fuck and will go out of their way to make sure things get done. They will bend over backwards to make sure musicians have an audience, a place to stay, and food if they need it. All this with little to no compensation for their efforts, save maybe a thank you note posted on their fridge.

Marty from The Party’s Over Productions did a great thing on July 14, 2006. He made sure that the show would go on. Unfortunately for me, I didn't realize there was a problem with the show until the moment Richard, Lindsaye and I pulled into the empty parking lot of Babylon, squinting and trying to make out the writing on the sign on the door. "Closed today!" it read in shaky sharpie-scrawled letters. We immediately called Rob who, like Oracle, helped us find the new coordinates of the show from his home base of operations. I have to admit, I felt a little like a secret agent. Apparently Babylon doesn't host shows anymore due to a liquor license issue or something. Without a second thought, the three of us hopped in our makeshift Batmobile and sped off back the way we came on the freeway towards Pomona, where the Glass House is located (thanks Rob).

As a result of our late information, we missed Grave for the Fireflies, which I was bummed about because I heard they've made changes to their lineup since I last saw them. They're a great band, and I suggest you check them out.


Wilmot Proviso

As I walked into The Glass House, said my hellos, and made my way past the merch tables, I was surprised to see there was a big empty space where the next band should be setting up. I had just expressed my woes to Grave for the Fireflies about missing their set, and I was ready to rock. There was an unassuming looking guy with an acoustic guitar gathering together a couple of microphones.

I'm the type of person who hears the sounds in music first, and I don't actually start hearing the lyrics until the fourth or fifth listen. Sometimes I just never ever catch them. I've had numerous conversations with Vivian about how opposite we are in that respect. The way we naturally take in the music we hear is totally different. She hears the lyrics first. That's why she can't read or study when there's music playing (unless its instrumental). I remember talking to her about Misfits lyrics, and being surprised about some of the verses Glenn was belting out over all those poppy chord progressions. Vivian and I were driving along listening to "Where Eagles Dare" one time, and a line skipped past me. "An omelet of disease awaits your noontime meal," Vivian deadpanned. I was shocked. "I've been listening to the Misfits for years. How could I have never caught that line?" I rest my case.

I only mention this because about three songs in, I was a bit baffled by Wilmot Proviso's performance. It was kind of abrasive. He sounded angry and in pain, yelling over the furious strumming of his guitar, and I was a little confused. Then it hit me, "Maybe its the lyrics." In my opinion, yelling without drums or distortion rarely works, yet the audience was responding warmly. In between songs, Proviso seemed fidgety and uncomfortable, inserting a lot of ums and whatevers into his sentences. During his tunes, though, he was in his own world, totally at home with himself. He appeared to be very sincere and earnest, howling about interpersonal relationships, but not without a certain sense of irony, ending one song with the line, "You thought this was about you."

Proviso said he's been playing music for around eight to ten years, and that if everything worked out, he'd be on the road for the next two. I thought to myself how going out on tour, perhaps doing a little soul searching can be a positive thing. I hope by the time he makes it back home, he's been able to work out some of those inner demons he might be dealing with.


The Fucking Wrath

As I was taking in the deep crusty sound of The Fucking Wrath, a few bands popped into my head. Drop Dead. Tragedy. Heroin. I can't lie: I've seen a million bands play this kind of music and no one has done it as well as those three. However, The Fucking Wrath tore it up like wild horses on a stampede, and the fact I watched their whole set is a testament to their ability and creativity. "To The Eels" was probably my favorite song they played, as it had a part in the middle that got slow and brought to mind some southern rock bands like The Sword and Alabama Thunder Pussy. There were some semi-political messages mentioned before a few songs, but I liked it better when they encouraged circle pits.

After they played, I spoke with Craig (guitar/vocals) and asked him how low they tuned. As I suspected, they were at "C". For those of you who don't play music, that's low. I mentioned Drop Dead and Tragedy and asked if they'd list those bands as influences. Craig sort of shrugged and said, "Yeah, all that stuff. But probably more like Motörhead.


Glass & Ashes

You know that part in Ang Lee's Hulk, where he beats the crap out of a tank and throws it over a mountain? Well, that's kind of how it felt when Glass & Ashes played. I think the Hulk is a good metaphor for the band here, because while you may think he's all muscle and power, he can be graceful as well. The same goes for the band, moving and shaking with intensity and ferocity.

Its really refreshing to see a band playing music with such high energy yet still challenging genres. It makes it difficult (and more fun) for people to try to describe what they sound like in reviews such as this one. I could sit here and spit out a bunch of genres like post hardcore, punk rock, and rock n’ roll, like you see in those pull-down menus when you sign your band up for a music profile, but I think we all know that those terms have become pretty meaningless and arbitrary. Does anyone really search bands on Myspace by genre? I mean, come on!

When I moved out to Los Angeles and started Modern Movement, Rob, Richard and I were having one of those initial conversations about music. I realized quite quickly that everyone's definitions of all those music types differ greatly based on region, personal experiences, and taste. Not to mention the definitions themselves change. In the 90's, emo meant something completely different than it does now. Same goes for post-punk and screamo.

Like The Fucking Wrath, Glass & Ashes is also from Ventura, CA. In fact, judging by some banter between Mike, the singer/bassist of Glass & Ashes, and Craig from The Fucking Wrath, they live down the street from each other. They also chatted about a crazy party that happened on that block, as well as some reminiscing about a different show they played with Dogs of Ire. You might think this was a lot to discuss in the middle of a show, but it was actually the most entertaining way I've seen a band handle a broken string change in a long while. Note to self: Play shows with bands you're friends with.


Dogs of Ire

Dogs of Ire remind me of being on tour. You know the kind: Its hot as hell. The van is cramped. You're somewhere in the Bible belt, trying to keep your sanity, and you swear if you can just make it to the next show, everything will be fine. And at the next show, you might see Dogs of Ire, or something like them. An incredibly intense maelstrom of chaos and raw emotion, all air screams and guitar chucking. I couldn't hear much of what was going on musically, but I think what makes them interesting is their physical presence in the room. Of all the bands, they were the only ones who had their own lighting. Even though it added to the band's mystique, I think it disconnected them from the audience a little bit. This is probably just fine with their fans, as most of them might be the type of kid that internalizes a lot of their problems and want to experience the show in a completely personal way. That is pure speculation on my part, so don't believe everything you read!

* * *

Not too long ago, one of the bands I'm in was playing a show which was put on by a promoter whose name I won't mention. He runs a website, books shows, and rents out hourly rehearsal spaces for bands. He's a really nice guy, but the way he handles bands is the opposite of punk rock. There was this band on the bill that was on tour, and they were asking him about gas money to get to the next show. He directed them to the owner of the club who in turn directed them back to the promoter. As you can guess, a dispute broke out.

This particular promoter claimed he had no responsibility to pay the touring band because he didn't book them, and that the club had asked them to play. All this while he's sitting at the bar counting cash from the door. Keep in mind, we never ask him to pay us because we are local, not a lot of people know about us, and basically we figure the money is going to other people that need it more. In this case, I asked him what the problem was with paying the out of town band, and he nearly bit my head off. "I've got expenses to take care of!" He exclaimed, and he repeated, "I didn't book the band, the venue did!"

In my experience, there's always been a sort of code between underground bands and kids in the DIY community that you should always go the extra mile for touring bands. Anyone who's ever been on a small tour knows this. The hospitality of strangers can sometimes be the only thing keeping you sane on a crummy tour you had to book yourself.

All I'm saying is, I've seen both sides of the coin, and people like Marty should not be taken for granted. He put on a great show in the face of adversity, and he always tries to help people out. Let's hope there will always be people out there that make sure that "the show must go on" isn't just an old timey saying that's lost its meaning.

Camera Phone Show Review #2: The Sword, Saviours, Akimbo

Spaceland
7/11/06

Akimbo started off the set with high energy and packed a punch. I didn't get a phone pic of them, as I spent most of their set shooting the shit with my friend Scott, who happens to play drums in Saviours.

In case you aren't familiar with these bands, they all fall adjacently into the genre of metal. Each act fills a different sub genre of metal that works well when juxtaposed together.

I can see why Akimbo was on the bill, since they definitely had elements of stoner metal in their sound. Although, it seems like skinny 16 year old boys with emo hair would get more enjoyment out of the chaotic drums and somewhat hardcore riffs than the decidedly over 25 crowd that filled the club that night. Obviously the appeal is wider than that, because heads were bobbing. I mentioned to Scott that I thought Akimbo could use a second guitarist to make their sound fuller (I've never been one to put much faith in the two cabinet method of making up for a single guitar player), but he gave a lot of praise to Aaron's guitar skills. "This is the best guy they've had so far." As I listened, it did seem that Aaron carried those higher frequencies just fine on his own. When they were playing, I remember thinking there was a lot of people there for a Tuesday night at Spaceland. I hadn't seen anything yet.


Saviours

I was astounded at how quickly Saviours set up and were ready to play. Though this impressed me, it was the way they began their songs that made it clear that they are already playing like a professional band. With a simple, "Are you ready?" from Scott, as soon as his sticks made contact with the drums, the whole band was playing. It was like they were one mind, one body. Not so much like you might see Fugazi reading each other's minds in Instrument, each member taking the lead at different moments, trying to figure out where the set should go next; no, this was a living breathing animal, and Scott was the brain. With no more than a gesture, he'd lead his band mates into the next blistering number, before one song saying, "No." to Tyler when I imagine he suggested a different song to play (pure speculation on my part).

This animal was angry, and Austin, its mouth and claws, growled into the mic with an intensity probably unmatched since Lemmy Kilmister first took the stage with Motörhead in 1975. This is not to say Saviours borrow much else from Motörhead's sound besides maybe attitude. I described to my drummer Rob that they played a more traditional metal than Akimbo. Traditional in the sense that guitar harmonies abound and the subject matter of their lyrics deal mostly with Satan.

Let me take this moment to say that Rob and his friend Lee were skeptical of Saviours before seeing them, being long time fans of metal and playing in many metal bands themselves.

From what I have guessed, Saviours use standard tuning, which is pretty unusual in metal these days. This increases the nostalgia (for me anyway) of the old days of metal before Fred Durst ever picked up a mic and tried to single handedly ruin the genre forever. Records such as Kill ‘Em All and The New Order come to mind as examples of true metal greatness before it was tainted in the late 90's by Nu metal.

Saviours manage to harken back to this older sound while simultaneously adding something new to it. Its hard to put my finger on it, and perhaps this is why they are so good, but I think it has to do with non-traditionally metal drum beats under very traditional metal guitar riffs. Of course, Scott is no stranger to the boom crash style made legendary by greats like John Bonham and Bill Ward in the days before metal had been fully established, but he also adds his own brand of frenzy between the lines which probably comes from years of songwriting with Yaphet Kotto.

I don't want to downplay the other parts of the beast that is Saviours. Cyrus on bass is like the muscled arms and fists, pounding sound like an ape on steroids, while Tyler on guitar is like the legs of a Satyr, keeping the whole creature lumbering along gracefully, kicking you in the face with cloven hooves.

After they finished their set, I took a moment to talk to Austin, the vocalist and guitarist of Saviours. I told him that my friends had been skeptical of whether or not they would deliver as a metal band, seeing as how they have so many years of legendary bands that came before, and when you play in a genre like metal, you have a lot to live up to. He nodded, agreeing that he was also skeptical of bands that try to tackle the genre. When I told him how impressed they were, he replied, "Winning over the skeptics. That's where its at."


The Sword

By the time The Sword took the stage, Spaceland was shoulder to shoulder. When they slammed into their first song, I observed the crowd as much as I watched the band. I wanted to know what, beyond the fact that they had the best time slot, made them the main attraction over the other two great bands that played that night. I thought I might be able to find the answer in the crowd, and I was partly right. I hadn't really noticed before, but during the other two bands, there was a certain contingent of person missing from the onlookers. Women. During The Sword, there was no shortage. And most of them were dancing.

After recovering from the shock of this revelation, I began to contemplate what the difference was. As soon as they kicked into "Freya" I realized: The Sword is sexy. Something about the groove makes the ladies shake it. In addition, I speculate that they use at least Drop D tuning, but perhaps they tune all six strings down a whole step or more. About 6 to 10 years ago, drop tuning was associated mostly with grunge bands and Nu Metal in the mainstream, a sound not uncommonly recognized as lame. However, lately this drop tuning is associated more with stoner rock and, in my opinion, when properly used in conjunction with blues scales, turns up the sex.

People were into The Sword in a huge way. They were cheering and flashing the devil sign every chance they got: during solos, during drum breaks, and basically at any point where all the instruments weren't blaring. Somewhere in the middle of the set, they got a little bogged down by a song probably intended to be epic, but ended up taking the shimmy out of people's hips. It was a song J.D. said was on a comp, so perhaps no one knew it as well as the other songs. I'll still put my money down that the groovier songs were the real crowd pleasers. All in all, I have to say that I haven't seen a band do an encore in a while where the crowd really wanted it.

After the last notes of the bass guitar ending on "Iron Swan" I weaved through the clumps of people trying to find Rob and Lee. When I finally did, we were more concerned about whether we would get parking tickets (I did) than how The Sword was. On the other hand, we all walked away feeling like we got what we payed for. I commented on how metal seems to be coming back in a big way. Rob turned to me and said, "these bands seem real down to earth, and that's something you don't see in metal anymore." To me, that's where its at.

Camera Phone Show Review #1: The Rentals

The Rentals at Bellyup Tavern
7/2/06


The Rentals

This was the worst show I've ever seen by one of the best bands ever. Only the acts that you truly love with all your being can really disappoint you the way the Rentals did for me that night.

As Vivian and I were driving down the 5 South, we were almost giddy with excitement for the show. Mind you, neither of us had ever seen them live before, and we both fondly thought of them, perhaps misguidedly, as the band that recorded Return of the Rentals. We had a few songs from that record on my iPod which we listened to with whimsical reminiscence. Vivian had loaded an extra track from their later album, Seven More Minutes which had different members and a totally different vibe. The collective scrunching of noses as the song came on should have been a forshadowing of what the evening had in store.

But seriously, how could we have known? The problem I have with Seven More Minutes is purely a matter of taste. They still sound like a professional band on that record, I just don't like the direction they went in. I mean first of all, Pat didn't play on it. His drum style is the secret ingredient of any band he plays in. Totally underrated. Secondly, the way Matt Sharp sang on Seven More Minutes had completely changed. He was super happy (they recorded in Spain?) and his mumbly, sad, mopey vocals from the first record were completely missing.

The point is, I didn't like what they were doing, but they still sounded like a professional band. When I refer to a band as professional, it has nothing to do with how many records they sell, what label they're on, or how much money they make. What I'm referring to is a certain focus a band has from the way the instruments sound to the way the musicians approach the presentation and performance of their act. I'm talking about that certain elusive bit of magic that changes an act from a bunch of people playing music together to one unified entity. Its easier to make a band sound professional on a record than live. When a band plays live, its harder to hide the mistakes. If they don't have their shit together, you can tell a lot easier than if you listen to a record (especially the big budget ones).

When Vivian and I arrived at the club, we both glanced at eachother worriedly. "The Bellyup Tavern?" The place looked like something out of a bad college movie. I half expected Rodney Dangerfield to come strolling out the front door with a woman under each arm.

Inside, it was bar rock central, complete with white baseball hats, muscular dudes, and ladies in miniskirts. The first band (Ozma) was playing, and I had to take a moment to let it all sink in. Ozma was definite bar rock. The music was boring drivel, but at least they sounded professional. Expensive equipment, lots of practice, and a good sound system can acheive this, even if you can't write a song to save your life.

At this point, I still managed to keep an open mind that one of my favorite bands of yesteryear would soon take the stage and blow me away. Sadly, this was not to be.

Vivian and I couldn't believe our luck when we found a table relatively close to the stage. We sat down, drinks in hand, and waited with baited breath. Two members of The Rentals came out first, opening the set with a string and keyboard arrangement that succeeded in doing its job of building anticipation (one of the marks of a professional band), and one by one the rest of the members joined in to a rising furvor in the crowd until the inevitbale climax: Matt Sharp emerged from behind the curtains! There was a burst of cheering, and I looked on, wide-eyed, excited, and ready to be bathed in the white hot rays of genius.

I suppose the moment I began to realize something wasn't quite right was during a revamped version of "Move On" when Matt began to sing in a completely different key than the music that was accompanying him. I could've taken or left the remix, that wasn't the problem.

Matt Sharp has never had the greatest singing voice. Honestly, that never made much difference to me because the delivery (on Return of The Rentals) was sincere, and the vocals were never the center of what made the Rentals great anyway. As the song began to build momentum, he began acting a little crazy. Perhaps "little" is a bit of an understatement. Maybe "stark raving mad" would be more appropriate. I'm not sure if he was nervous, trying frantically to distract the audience from his horrible vocal mistake, or if he was coked up on some kind of drugs. Vivian seems to hold with the latter, and after the song was over, I began to agree with her. He was maniacal, yelling like a monkey in high pitched squeels, jumping around with flailing arms, and overall frightening me very, very much.

Let me try to exlain a little bit about why this seemed so out of character from the Matt Sharp I thought I knew and loved. First of all, just look at the cover of thier first album.

This is the face of a mellow guy. A man who sings about simple things like moving away and hoping to make new friends. He's kind of awkward and quiet. Maybe even a little sad. This is not the kind of guy whose stage presence is like a hardcore singer, pumping his fist, and handing the mic off to fans who are screaming choruses. Matt, I don't know if you noticed, but there was no mosh pit. There was no stage diving. The only flying body occurred when you picked Rachel Haden up off the stage while she was playing bass, both of you landing with a thud.

In a perfect world, Matt Sharp would have been playing bass as well as singing, wearing a suit and tie that was a little too big for him, and delivering a deadpan performance that would sweep the audience away on dilectible moog laden harmonies. Alas, this is not a perfect world, and the Rentals we got was not the Rentals of 1995. It had its feet planted firmly in 2006. The legend has been made mundane. The godlike made human. But you know, that first record was so good, I still bought a t-shirt.

Why The Beast?

The Beast Within refers to the inner struggle most of us go through every day to do the right thing. Its kind of like what Luke Skywalker endures at the end of Return of the Jedi. Or you know, when Wolverine struggles to remain a civilized human being, holding back the berzerker rage that so often almost consumes him. Or perhaps more appropriately, when Jean Grey is teetering on the edge of the abyss as The Phoenix. As Dark Phoenix, she is a being of pure emotion, unhindered by rational thought. That's how planets get incinerated. Come on, if you could obliterate an entire galaxy, wouldn't you want to know what it felt like? Well, the challenge is to resist that temptation and subdue the beast within.