I pretty much stayed at Hotel Vegas(Hotel Hot Burrito, Mustache Central) the whole damn day and fuck you for telling me for two weeks now that I missed anything worthwhile anywhere else.
I saw Hinds from Spain. You pretty girls from the lets do reverb, everyone's doing reverb/you tube launched career of sorts did too many shows and blew your vocal wad long before your afternoon set complete with live language barriers between soundman and you. 2 chord mid tempo dour pop, yawny and scratchy(no relation to itchy, I'm talking vocal fry) Take your modeling income and pay someone to tune your guitars. The only band that had an autograph line that Id seen...like total teen town. As boredom glazed over I thought " Is Hinds a mispronounce/misspell mistake of a Spanish condiment?" 17 shows and they could have stopped at one if hype didn't force its hand.
I saw the marvelous Sunflower Bean from NYC. Trippy shredding dream rock like a faster D'arcy led Pumpkins, with the pixie dream girl Julia Cumming swaying and thumping on bad ass bass and vocals.
I saw Birdcloud. Dirty purdy bird duo of Nashvillettes all horned up and wet, and strumming and humming. Rub a dub dub on a 12 inch sub. Cowgirl soft porn, golden country greats with a harmonica inspired faux fellatio part for one of their trailer park meets I fucked a rodeo clown masterpieces. LUV. Spelled L-U-V.
I saw Mystery Lights from NYC. Sweater psyche in the raw, with a univox backbone and throttled on drums. Punk dust scattered over yelps and high kicks, and jaws dropped like flop sweat from the sky. One of the premiere sights of the day.A two beer worthy set in a mere 25 minutes.
I saw Guantanamo Baywatch from the PDX, full out tongue in cheeky rave up surf rock from the bridge city. Sloppy bass from a Blazer Jersey wearing trashette, but the songs didn't scatter the masses. Waves of people wading in.
I saw the miracle of Chicano Batman from LA. We were all cholos pogo-ing to solos from this incredible revitalized R&B meets low riding while crooning+ astrology signs plus palm trees +empenadas at the back door disco with a sunsplash of Santana and sultry burst of Yamaha organ runs from a transistor radio kinda-deal. Sexy Spaniards in powder blue tuxes fucked shit up with soul- riffic sambafied sounds. The BAND of the DAY. This is why I come every year. I did not expect to dance. I did not know when I stopped.
I saw Thee Oh Sees pile up their ratty amps like pyramids and put the two drum kits in the middle of it all and I saw the crowd cinch up their breaths and clutch their beers like they were babysitting them and I saw the clear sg clone of a guitar slung solar plexus high on band leader John Dwers person and I saw the first squelching chord scream down and split the crowd apart like demagnetized ball bearings on a wave of phase and I saw people lifting diving crucifying themselves on the nails of outstretched arms from the crowd below their bodies. I saw the magic psychedelic mighty light leave the traveling garage and beautify the open space with amperage, spark and dance. I saw transformation, I saw sweat land in dust, I saw god with a lower case g in that courtyard for awhile. I saw no escape from a sore neck from the rollicking edge of the pit.
I saw Hundred Visions again, I saw La Luz, I saw The Sloths, I saw several other bands that were not breaking the bathroom line worthy and I felt old and tired and I felt like it was worth it one hundred times over.
I saw Sunday the next day, ate three chili dogs as the onslaught of girl bands drowning in reverb's swiss cheesy blanket surrounded me inside and out at Uncle Doug's Chili Dog Fest #7 at Empire Control Room and Side Bar. I saw the trip home in front of a bad nights sleep and a burrito night cap. its taken a few weeks to get up to snuff and bullish enough to write about it. Enjoy the bands in Bold. They are in my future and not just a post script or a bullet point on this silly blog. SKB