Last night's Cloud Nothings show at the Buffalo Iron Works was a great experience. The bands played well, the crowd was into it, but it was the synergy between the two that pushed things over the top.
I admit I was worried at the beginning. Openers Pleasure Leftists, who will be joining Cloud Nothings for a few dates before coming back through Buffalo next week for your listening pleasure, were awesome, but the crowd barely seemed to move. They clapped hard, but they seemed a little sleepy.

Even when the headliners came on, I was concerned. The crowd only started to pick up a few songs into the set, when singer Dylan Baldi started strumming out the first few chords of "Stay Useless." Lyrically, "Stay Useless" is all aching ennui, wishing for "Something to do/somewhere to go." The crowd, at least the first few rows of it, seemed to know all the words, and when the first chorus hit, the pit really started to get going.

It was a strange pit. It occupied my attention for much of the night. Part of the reason was that a few UFC types, looking like lapsed friars with their shaved heads, were jumping around like featherweights with their fists up and I wasn't trying to get my teeth knocked out. But, at first, it struck me as a strange reaction to a band like Cloud Nothings. Maybe not strange: Here and Nowhere Else, their new release, is more aggressive than the band's past output, and live, it hits even harder. Baldi's voice is still well-suited to cut through the clutter, but between three people, the band makes a whole lot of noise. Extra points to drummer Jayson Gerycz, who played so long, so insistently, that I feared he might die during the encore.

But yeah, the pit. Forgive me for mostly grabbing lyrics from old tracks, but those were the ones that the crowd knew the best. Consider the lyrics to "No Future/No Past," which I will reproduce in their entirety: "Give up/Come to/No hope/We're through/No future/No past."

This song may have been the highlight of the evening. If you haven't heard it, it's a slow build. The crowd chanted along with Baldi eight times through the verse until exploding into the chorus. The whole point of the song is delayed gratification, and by the time the catharsis finally came, people were basically swaying and drooling on their neighbor. When it hit, the mood was celebratory: people were crowdsurfing, throwing elbows, shouting out their lungs.

But what were we celebrating? The pit was mostly dudes in their mid-20s thrashing about. They knew the words. It was strange to see them connect to the words in this manner. The apolitical angst of the Cloud Nothings, which a real bastard might be tempted to call symptomatic of the whole Millenial generation, is something that a lot of people share but aren't quite sure how to react to. Despair is an option. Last night, people opted for revelry.

It was a moment, thankfully not uncommon, that proved that music could bring people together. But together for what? Cloud Nothings lyrics appeal to those who vaguely sense an impending, inevitable apocalypse, knowing that the world will end not with a bang or a whimper, but through a death of a thousand cuts. Standing in the pit, I felt a bit like I was standing in the eye of a hurricane: fury surrounding us, but in the center, nothing at all.

This feeling was exacerbated by the fact that there were certainly a few people up front that may have been at their first rodeo. People really out to hurt someone, or totally willing to pass a crowdsurfer into nothingness just to get him off their hands. I guess this kind of thing happens at every single show, but it stood out to me more last night. It seemed more fitting: potentially bringing harm to someone not through effort, but lack of effort, refusing to be self-conscious of your inexperience.

I guess what struck me, at the core, was how well-suited the crowd was to the music and the meaning. Being young and hung with a true despair, seeing that the world is running out of juice, that as you age you will only be faced with ever-diminishing returns: who wouldn't jump into a collective experience like rowdy crowd at a concert with an attitude of self-possession? Sometimes, after a great show, people feel like they want to build something up. Sometimes there is catharsis in wanting to destroy. Last night's show was the first show I have been to in a while that I felt as if people were getting hyped up on an attitude of "Why build? Why destroy?."

I sound like I'm slagging on the show, the band and the crowd. I'm not. A rock show can be great and not feel epic, life-changing or even particularly fun (at least in the sense of pure pleasure). This one was great because the band and the crowd made perfect sense together. It was just the kind of sense that stems from lyrics like these, from "Psychic Trauma" off of the band's new record:

"Try to stop it, try to feel something
But nothing happens, I stay the same
Is it alright to end up this way?
Life gets boring, it fades away."

Check out Cloud Nothings playing "Psychic Trauma" live in Houston below. Audio isn't the best, but it'll give you an idea of what you missed last night (though they played as a three-piece at Iron Works).

From the moment they took the stage with a vocal excerpt of Rhythm Control's classic track "My House" playing faintly, it became clear that Tuesday night's Cut Copy show at the Town Ballroom would be yet another memorable and celebratory performance from the Melbourne synthpop band. Touring in support of their latest record, Free Your Mind, co-produced by Fredonia based studio maestro Dave Fridmann, the band showed an effortless ability to incorporate house and Madchester influences into their eclectic, pop oriented sound. 

Opting to play the album's spectacular title track early in the set, "Free Your Mind," was projected behind the band in Facebook's signature font before a blue background, making for an interesting juxtaposition and provoking statement on independent thought in the digital era. Given frontman Dan Whitford's background in graphic design, the show had a strong and concise visual element that ranged from hypnotic black and white spirals during "Let Me Show You" to psychedelic color blends during "We Are Explorers." Combined with lustrous light coordination and a highly charismatic delivery, Cut Copy were able to create a warm, uplifting atmosphere on a cold Buffalo night as they captivated the audience with each drum solo, cymbal crash, breakdown and buildup.

The set also included cuts from their 2008 album, In Ghost Colours, and 2011's Zonoscope, with standouts like the infectious, riffy "Lights and Music" and the acid-house stylings of "Hearts On Fire." After briefly leaving the stage the band returned for a two song encore that featured "Walking in the Sky" and the always affecting "Need You Now", whose yearning chorus set to majestic oceanic scenery was a powerful way to end an impassioned performance. On Tuesday night, Cut Copy were able to prove the ability purposeful pop music has to transcend age, race and gender and bring people together for a damn good party.

Calling the Cults fourth Buffalo show in 34 months a "reunion" would be a bit of a stretch and somewhat weird, but periodically charting the San Diego via NYC band's growth and progress from their early shows at Soundlab (which I wasn't at) and Ninth Ward (my first Cults show) in 2011 through their Town Ballroom blowout 2 years ago has been immensely satisfying. I'm not sure what keeps bringing them back to Buffalo, or if there's a two way connection going on here, but Monday's show at the Tralf with Mood Rings and their first since the release of their sophomore album Static felt a litle belt special, and they didn't disappoint.

Mood Rings did not mess around with their enthusiastically received opening set of straight up 80's New Wave romantic jams. Featuring a Spectoresque Wall of Sound also favored by Cults' Brian Oblivion, the Atlanta band played a number of exquisitely lush and reverb drenched songs off their new album VPI Harmony, gathering power and mojo as their set progressed until their positively Goth tinged climax that indulged the darkness that lurked sweetly under the surface of the entire performance. My only regret of the night was that they sold out of their debut CD before I could hit up the merch table at the end of the night. For their Buffalo debut, Mood Rings were bold, captivating, and like many in the appreciative crowd, I definitely wouldn't mind seeing them again.

Starting with the fiercely uptempo "High Road" off of Static, this Cults show was absolutely potent as the band used the Tralf's excellent acoustics to their fullest. The Brian Oblivion/Cults Wall of Sound was in full effect with each instrument contributing to a sweetly all enveloping caress of sound that was especially nice in the ears thanks to the denser, beat heavy, and more guitar driven songs from Static. Favorites from their instant classic eponymous debut also seemed beefier than usual, but I could be wrong about that because Cults definitely rocked the Town Ballroom in 2012. And there can be no doubt that Madeline Follin is realer than real, a very human voice at the heart of Cults sonic storm to focus the heart and mind while vocally shredding jams like "You Know What I Mean" and "Rave On" and a cover of The Motels' "Total Control."

By the time they finished off the night with heavy duty run-throughs of classics "Go Outside" and "Oh My God," it was clear that Cults had fully delivered the goods once again. What fully sold me on Cults was their wonderful June 2011 show in that acoustically wonderful brick basement at the Ninth Ward, a magical night that was very much on my mind as I and the (decent) crowd grooved to a band clearly growing in power and sonic gorgeousness, having successfully vanquished the sophomore slump. When Brian Oblivion and Madeline Follin bring Cults back for fifth WNY show, I will be there.






                                                                                 

Beach Fossils brought more than their stark, drone-y style of indie rock to The Tralf Monday. They also brought a wonderful sense of humor and playfulness that they often masked under an exaggerated lackadaisical attitude.

The Brooklyn quartet's tight, screeching set energized the 100-plus crowd with the upbeat melancholy of early songs like "Daydream" and "Sometimes."  But the real fun came near the show's end, when lead vocalist Dustin Payseur offered commentary that was far different than your usual stage banter.  With their set drawing near a close, Dustin announced, "We're going to play two more songs and then we're going to. . .kill ourselves on-stage." From there things just got weirder.

The band's performance of "Crashed Out" ended in a long blaze of screeching guitar and static that would make even the most ardent noise-rock junkie cringe, and Dustin's paranoid moaning vocals would make Cage the Elephant singer Matt Schultz seem calm by comparison.

They returned for an encore performance of "Twelve Roses," and then Dustin and guitarist Tommy Davidson stuck around for a "Q&A" with the audience - only they mumbled unenthusiastically and never gave a straight answer to anybody's question. When one person asked what Dustin's favorite album was, Dustin replied, "Uh, your album," and later commented, "this is the stupidest thing we've ever done, I can't believe you're all still standing there."  After an impromptu sax solo by drummer Tommy Gardner, the band left the stage entirely.

The ending was so non-chalent it felt funny, bizarre and perhaps even a little stupid.  But it's this same lazy but committed grunge-like attitude that embodies so many of their songs, and in a way, it was almost fitting.

For weeks leading up to the Sleigh Bells concert on Thursday, I was listening to their newest album release, Bitter Rivals, incessantly. When I initially listened to the album, it had a much brighter vibe to it. On a personal level, it reflected my life, in a way. When Reign of Terror was released, I was on a very heavy depressive kick. My life has become much more lifted since then, and somehow Bitter Rivals reflects that. I saw Sleigh Bells live twice for their Reign of Terror tour and then again last week. The feel of their productions may have a slight difference to them this time around, but the performances were equally fucking amazing.

Prior to the Sleigh Bells concert, I had never heard of opening act Montreal-based Doldrums. Their set had hints of '80s synths with tones of UK garage weirdness. The lighting for their performance was simple; red flashing lights reminiscent of a heart rate monitor. The group is comprised by three; the stage was set with a drum set, a Yahmaha and next to the lead singer's mic stand was various electronic equipment. It was a buffaBLOG night out for the Sleigh Bells show. Before Jon Krol, Cliff Parks and I headed downtown to Town Ballroom, I asked them what Doldrums was all about. One of them replied their sound was "sludgy," but in a good way. After the band thanked the audience and made way for the crew to re-set the stage, I wholeheartedly agree that the use of word was perfectly on point.

Sleigh Bells took the stage. This show was different than my previous two, in that it wasn't just Alexis Krauss and Derek Miller, but they were joined by their other guitarist and Poison the Well member Ryan Primack, and drummer Jason Boyer.

"It feels good to be back here!" Krauss told the audience. "Back in this creepy awesome place."

The show was incredible, once again. They played the classics like "Kids" and "Tell Em'" in addition to the Bitter Rivals tunes.

Krauss brought up a fond memory for the Buffalonians in attendance. She described a venue with a name she couldn't remember. The crowd yelled "Mohawk!" She laughed and replied "yes!"

The encore was incredible and I'm pretty sure it was during "Sing Like a Wire" that I threw my back out. I squeezed my way up to the gate to have a closer look and obviously to hear the music at a way louder decibel; the people surrounding me weren't too pleased. I asked one girl if I could scooch my way up a little closer and she said "sorry." Whatever. I stayed where I was and threw myself around like a rogue pinball in a machine. All I could do was laugh and I couldn't see anything because my hair was in the way. The girl who initially declined my request for a better view looked back, smiled and said "here," giving me a small spot to take a step closer.

I left Town Ballroom with ringing ears, a sweaty leather jacket and a sore back that I wouldn't feel until my after-concert beer as I made an attempt to walk across Allen Street.

Until we meet again Sleigh Bells. Until we meet again.

Poutine….

1996, 2003, 2010, and most recently, 2013 (October 12, to be exact) are the years that Pearl Jam had performed in Buffalo. Of the four shows, last night was the only one to not close with "Yellow Ledbetter." Instead, "Indifference" was the final song of a three song encore, 2 hour and 45 minute performance. It was also the only time they played without an opener (the open time slot may have given the band more room for themselves, but from a concert go-ers standpoint, I would’ve taken a Carrie Brownstein band over extra time in the vendor lines.

Eddie riled up the crowd just a few songs in by using his best SNL introduction voice, “Live from Buffalo, it's Saturday Night”. His wino generosity was on full display as he handed out multiple bottles throughout the evening to celebrate with the audience. The band played nine new songs last night off the anticipated Lightning Bolt, scheduled for release this Tuesday. I for one can’t even think of a time where I saw a band play anywhere close to nine songs off an album prior to its release. It was bold, and during the two slower acoustic songs during the first encore, the audience either lost its energy surge or went idle for a moment to gather enough strength for a strong finish. Eddie after back-to-back, vocally straining songs, "Mind Your Manners" and "Do the Evolution," called an audible, and strayed off the setlist path in order to properly pace himself. Eddie’s vocals sounded astoundingly good towards the first half of the set, perhaps due to this only being the second show of the tour thus far.

The entire gang was there, and with a newly organized energy, often huddling around Matt Cameron who executed his duties to near perfection. This wasn’t the same Matt who raced through set lists in the past: his role has changed and he now seems to be the unnamed captain. Of the six (including Boom), Mike McCready was last night's all-star. He makes old, tired songs sound new with alternate renditions, blazing energy and a way to connect with the audience very few guitarists can match. In the past, McCready came off to some as a guitar prodigy-type show off, but he really seemed to be in the moment, more than any of the others, last night. McCready shared his time before and after the concert with fans, and nearly set his guitar into flames at one point with ferocious speed during "Even Flow," perhaps to challenge all the air guitarists in the audience in an effort to keep up. The band wisely chose to play choices from their earlier releases up until the album Riot Act, which is a reasonably affordable cut off point, most loyal followers would agree. The earlier back catalog songs didn’t necessarily make you feel as if you were reliving the 90’s: and at some points (especially during "Once" and "State of Love and Trust") seemed to, dare to say, be going through the motions.

Eddie no longer climbs ceiling beams nor has the same youthful disdain as he did in his younger days, and everyone can agree that this isn’t to be expected at this point of his career. I do believe however that the sentimental value attached to such powerhouses can be pushed just as well as the hits, which were performed flawlessly and, to what it seemed like, everyone’s satisfaction.

High Points including their performances of "Rats," "Present Tense," and "Elderly Woman," where the band kindly considered the rear audience and played facing them. Low points were the crowd chanting Maple Leaf cheers and U-S-A to rival.

The band is approaching 23 years since the release of their debut album, Ten. It's certainly been nothing short of enthralling to be on such a journey with easily one the most admirable bands today. There is nothing contrived about Pearl Jam, and Eddie has to be the most esteemed front man in rock music history. They don’t need image, attitude, gimmicks or marketing schemes to hold the throne. This is what makes Pearl Jam absolutely pivotal, even today.

Lightning Bolt, lyrically, could be Ed’s career highlight and artistically the most diverse the band has ventured. "Sirens," the album's second single, perfectly captures this. “Oh, it’s a fragile thing, this life we lead, if I think too much, I can’t get over. When by the graces, by which we live our lives with death over our shoulders. Want you to know, that should I go, I always loved you, held you high above too. I studied your face, the fear goes away.” Lifelong fans have went on a ride starting with teenage animosity, to overcoming loss and grief. The fear does go away and collectively Pearl Jam made it easier. This cannot be said about any other group from what could end up being as the last influential period of rock and roll.

Fun Facts:
Eddie shared a story about how the song “I Got Shit” came to be. He and Neil Young were in the studio and Neil mentioned that they had nine songs total for the album Mirror Ball. Neil said to Eddie, "How many do you got?" Eddie responded, “I got shit.” For such a seemingly thrown together song, it certainly came out fantastically well. I personally requested Pearl Jam play that song on the ten club forums, as I’ve heard from other die hards that the band views it from time to time to gather ideas to select from their extensive catalog. Who knows if that had anything to actually do with it, but its not hard to imagine.

Eddie commented on how cool looking the classic Sabres logo is. Undoubtedly this form of flattery still will not provide any positive momentum for this year's season.

Crowd-riding was back in action again at the First Niagara Center. Fans wore shirts ranging from fictitious bands such as Citizen Dick, to Metallica’s Metal up your Ass, to Clutch and the expected array of 90’s “grunge-era” essentials.

After waiting to see Dopapod for over a year, I was beyond jazzed to check out their set at The Waiting Room last night. This venue was an ideal spot for the show. The low ceilings created an illusion of a cavern with studio lighting, providing an intimate setting and sonic enclosure. The energy of the small crowd (around 200 or so) was on high. We were all stoked for the show to begin, and a phrase I kept hearing was, "we're at Dopapod right now!" I couldn't help but grin.

Buffalo-based jam band Space Junk kicked off the evening with upbeat dance tunes, an appropriate choice to contrast the (occasionally) heavier sound of Dopapod. They played two extended songs that blended into each other, beginning with "Snowblinds," moving into "Birds of Prey," channeling elements of electronic and funk that set a positive and peaceful tone to the evening.

Around 10:30 Dopapod opened with "Bubble Brain" off their latest album Redivider. Maneuvering through an opening that sounded like we were entering on an interstellar voyage, to a sudden break into a metallic drop, this was a strong choice. I was consistently impressed how well their sound shifted in dynamics, like a quiet, ethereal organ solo by Eli to sudden thud in pressure created by bassist Chuck, notably on "Onionhead" and "French Bowling." Unfortunately their current drummer Fro wasn't able to attend, and they had Scott Zwang hold down the fort. His performance was sharp and on point, especially with having a short window to learn most of their material.

"Trapper Keeper" was one of the highlights, a sizzling opening with lyrics lamenting the magnetic and forceful power of technology. "Can we play a new game/ look inside my trapper keeper" echoes the addictive and click-happy generation, always seeking something higher, newer, instead of taking a kick down the block and feeling the grass with our fingertips. "Trapper keeper" has to be one of the best expressions for a computer-ized object I've heard to date. For the finale they closed with "Vol. 3 #86" that featured more drawn out phrases from each member of the band.

We had the pleasure of singing Rob a happy birthday, and in return he serenaded us with a slick, jazzy tune, featuring his unique voice and wide-range of melody. A truly fantastic way to end the evening! Thank you Rob for letting me snag the setlist:

I:
"Bubble Brain"
"Black & White"
"Psycho"
"Onionhead" > "Turnin' Knobs"
"Give It A Name"
"Bahbi"
"Faba"

II:
"Sonic"
"French Bowling"
"Trapper Keeper"
"Nuggy Jawson"

Finale: "Vol. 3 #86"

Virtuosity and precision were on display Tuesday night at UB's Center for the Arts as Joe Satriani continued to prove why he is one very best in modern guitar rock. There may be, after all, many shredders and speed players but very few of them hold a candle to the Satchman.....

The night began with a performance by the Steve Morse band. Led by legendary guitarist, Steve Morse, who has played with Deep Purple amongst a host of others, the band played a potent mix of jazz-amped, fusion rock, sprinkled with Morse' unique imprint. At times the playing was subdued, at other times raucous. One particular gem, a triple-time rockabilly shuffle played in excess speed seemed a high point. I wasn't too familiar with Steve Morse, but after last night I'm paying attention.

Joe Satriani came on shortly thereafter, hammering out quick spurt guitar leads as only he can. His presence and feel for the guitar cannot be overstated. Joe has an innate understanding of melody and knows where the ear wants to go. It was interesting to watch his dive bomb prowess interact with shreditude to form some truly beautiful guitar soundscapes. And then he played "Flying in a Blue Dream" and the old time fans went crazy. I have to be honest. I would have liked to hear some of the older tunes. He barely touched upon The Extremist or Surfing with the Alien, but I guess it's just a case of artist wanting to play his newer material. I can live with that.

Overall, it was hours of guitar worship, and those who appreciate that sort of thing, revelled in it. This type of music may not be for everyone but those who were there last night will testify to it; the power and beauty of the guitar as an instrument and a communication device with Aliens cannot be denied.

This past Monday evening, Elephant Revival serenaded the halls of the Ninth Ward for a sold out show, debuting many songs off their new album These Changing Skies. Babeville is a solid venue for their delicate, mesmerizing tunes. The stage was lit with scented candles (a touch of popcorn, a touch of strong herb) that provided a luminescent and comfortable ambience.

Around 8 p.m., Bridget Law came out onto the stage, barefoot and glowing, to announce that her long-time friend Lindsey McGuire would be reading a few poems to kick off the night. McGuire read from three, the first titled, "I Fucking Love You," the second "Economy," and the third, pulling memories from a shared dream, "Bird Chest." Her lyrics spanned time, comparing her lover to an ancient sylvan jungle, the strength in Michelangelo's precision when he made the statue of David, and recalling how our lives are so small in lieu of the giantess, Mother Nature. She read with ease and precision directly from memory, emphasizing the lines we needed to hear, such as "spirituality was freed from the confines of religion," and "By the time I die, existence will have spent 36,750 pounds of rainfall, sunshade, soil, plant, and creature to keep me alive, so I think it's fair to say I indeed am in debt." McGuire's words urged the listener to think about balance, in love and in nature.

Bonnie Payne made a comment during the show about how uncanny their new album's title, These Changing Skies, certainly reflected the unexpected flooding that is happening over in Boulder, Colorado and the surrounding area. They came back one day to find their homes collapsed and destroyed, thousands of dollars of studio equipment lost. Elephant Revival's lyrics and songs seem to be in tune with the cycles of the seasons, slow and entrancing, or staccato and riveting. The first half of the evening, they pulled mostly from their new repertoire, with songs such as "Birds & Stars," "Remembering a Beginning," and "The Pasture." Compared to their studio recordings, I insist that their live pitches are equally as perfect, if not more enchanting. Each song built off the other, weaving a spell of inspiration.

Throughout the evening I noticed Sage Cook, Daniel Rodriguez, and Dango Rose switch on and off between double bass, electric banjo, and guitar. The shift in instruments seemed to show the bones of their composition process and varied the performance for me. Since Bridget's family from the area, was in town, the band made a few comments that in their honor they would play more "Irish" tunes. One is "Currach," sung at an andante pace, with haunting moans from Bridget's masterful fiddle and Bonnie's pensive washboard heralding a rising storm. Elephant Revival's intriguing range of harmonies and styles captured my steadfast attention the entire evening. Peace radiates from their aura. For their encore, in honor of the harvest moon, they sung "Ring Around The Moon." This featured Bonnie on the musical saw, an instrument that croons high-pitched wails with the smallest vibrations from her bow.

As they finished their performance, I noticed a few stickers on various instrument cases like "Fractivist" and "Ban Fracking Now." For sure they are conscious about what is happening on the Earth, especially concerning a controversial issue such as hydraulic fracturing. Coming from a musical act that is gaining in popularity as the moons wane and wax, I consider it reassuring and brave.

Sage Cook was kind enough to offer me the setlist:

Last night, I saw a cover band. They played most of The Machine's songs, and they actually sounded a lot like them. It was pretty impressive. But there was this problem: we bought tickets to see The Machine, the semi-famous Pink Floyd tribute band and ended up seeing God knows who, because the bass player and lead vocalist, guitarist, and drummer were all new. Now I suppose someone could make the argument of "you knew you weren't going to see the real Pink Floyd so what difference does it make who is in the cover band?" and to some extent have a valid point, but The Machine are supposed to be the cream of the crop and overall, they sounded pretty ordinary.