There are several things one can count on at a Space Gallery show. It will be dark. There will be dozens and dozens of hairy and/or horn-rimmed hipsters. The drinks will be relatively inexpensive-$2 PBR and $5 Maker’s Mark. The employees with whom you exchange money for wristbands will be smiling and grateful.
But most importantly, there will be good music-often, a mixed bag of it. A few Thursdays ago, that mixed bag included a weathered and ferocious rock queen, a foursome of quiet indie brainchildren and a winning reborn alt-country outfit.
Darien Brahms is a truly commanding performer and often referred to as the queen of the Portland music scene. It was my first time hearing her play, and as far as I can tell, the title is warranted.
Her songs are swampy, rootsy, gravely and not to be trifled with. They’re also a lot of fun.
Most of what she and her band performed was from her recent album, Number 4, which came out last August on Cornmeal Records. Brahms wrote, engineered and produced the entirety of the album, and her comfort with the material is apparent on stage. The songs weren’t exactly stripped down from their recorded form, but honed to a barebones four-piece rock arrangement that suited them aptly.
“Sweet Little Darling” boasts a tremendously catchy chord progression and chorus, while “Cream Machine” is a sneering anthemic rocker perfect for the live setting.
Next on the bill was the unbearably good Metal Feathers, who never fail to mesmerize the audience. Their set comprised of all the songs from their dazzling self-titled debut-minus one instrumental-which I urge everyone who has not already done so to pick up immediately.
One of Metal Feathers’ greatest performance strengths is the personality and inimitability projected by each band member. Jay Lobley, former front man of the fizzled-out Cult Maze, writes brilliant pop songs and performs them with much precision. His brother and keyboardist Derek does as good of a job providing backing vocals as anybody could.
Jason Rogers, known chiefly as the prime mover of Diamond Sharp, plays distorted, truncated bass parts that make up much of the distinctness of the band’s sound. Althea Pajak is apparently a newcomer to the drums, but the exactitude of her playing (on a topsy-turvy, one-of-a-kind kit) keeps Metal Feathers grounded and simple in a crucial, defining way.
They began with the album opener, “Glamour Skulls,” one of the drearier tunes in their repertoire. The Lobleys and Rogers sing the verse with a worrisome, almost pained collective tone. At the chorus, Derek and Jason kick their voices up to dueling falsettos and resolve: “Oh ’cause there’s a town just out of reach/glamour skulls at haunted beach.”
They went on to play nearly everything from the album: the jagged rockers “Blind For You” and “All For Blood,” the hazy, sweet instant classics “Tough” and “Embrace.” It would be impossible to detail highlights of their set on a song-by-song level, because each number was fantastic in its own regard.
If you hadn’t heard the album before the performance, Metal Feathers did a pretty damn good job laying it out for you that night; there isn’t much on there that can’t be translated faithfully live. This was, by far, the best I’ve heard them play.
The final set of the evening was from Honey Clouds, who in a previous carnation was known as the alt-country band Harpswell Sound.
In case you were wondering, their sound is as sweet (in quality and aesthetics) as their name.
Now, with a new rhythm section-Sean Wilkinson on drums and Diamond Sharp’s Mandy Wheeler on bass and backing vocals-the band’s sound is fresh and leaning closer toward straight pop than ever before.
Trey Hughes, a phenomenal and tranquil singer with a deep, bawling intonation, leads
Honey Clouds. His songs sound both laid back and potent, wrapped in a wash of clean guitars played by him and the other Harpswell Sound veteran Ron Harrity (Peapod Recordings skipper).
There’s something really nice about a high-pitched female vocal singing along with an unusually deep and melodic voice such as Hughes’. “Color Spills In,” which can be heard in different versions on their Earl Grey Demos and Peapod’s Winter ’09 compilation, is a songwriting triumph, aided terrifically that particular vocal concoction.
The band explodes with joy on the borderline-transcendentalist chorus: “Oh, but the air smells clean/Yeah, it just rained/There’s a slight chill lingering on these hills/Just above the ridge/Color spills in.”
Harrity and Hughes’ guitars compliment each other in a fashion all too uncommon in indie rock these days: their parts stand alone, going in different directions and expanding the songs to adventurous yet succinct reaches.
Wilkinson is a skilled drummer who knows how to take it easy on his equipment and at the same time fulfill every aspect of his rhythmic duties. Wheeler’s voice is welcoming, delightful and a match made in heaven for Hughes’.
You wouldn’t know that that was the first Honey Clouds show in months; they sounded incredibly fresh and enthused. They are finished recording their proper debut LP, so it shouldn’t be long before it emerges on Peapod and we’re treated to a new round of their remarkable performances.
http://www.myspace.com/darienbrahms
http://www.myspace.com/metalfeathers
http://www.myspace.com/honeyclouds