September 2001

Loscil

We learned about triple point, the state where vapor, liquid and solid forms of a substance exist in equilibrium with one another, in high-school chemistry. Perhaps Scott Morgan, sometimes drummer for Vancouver band Destroyer, had a flashback to his teens when choosing the concept for his latest release. The album centers, largely, around the dynamics of matter vs. anti-matter; on the disc, Morgan exploits synths, samplers and computer programs. Triple Point is an ambient journey that sounds as if it could’ve been released via Hydrogen Dukebox or, perhaps, might be a Cluster-Eno-Rapoon outtake. Loscil is tempered by a lack of high end and is accentuated by Morgan’s choice of minor keys and dissonance—something a film-score aficionado such as Morgan might conjure. If you’re a fan of recent Labradford/Pan American releases, Loscil will be the next logical step.

(SN&R)

What the raven said

With the success of Megadeth and Metallica came a signing flurry that ended in an onslaught of mediocre releases and rapid band breakups. Sanctuary, however, fronted by future Nevermore vocalist Warrel Dane, was helped along through some production help from Megadeth’s Dave Mustaine and, at least, garnered some great overseas press and kudos followed. Unfortunately, metalheads in North America, the band’s home continent, didn’t jump onboard and sales were less than stellar. Sanctuary’s talented frontman needed refuge fast. End result: Nevermore.

Some bands hit their stride after they’ve got a few albums under the belt. Such is the case of Seattle’s Nevermore, which just blew through Sacramento on its national tour with SavatageDead Heart in a Dead World, Nevermore’s latest album on the Century Media label, is to power-metal culture—fans of Helloween, Forbidden and Lefay—what Nirvana’s Nevermind was for an earlier generation. After a few under-acknowledged releases, Dane and present company have hit the mark in a big way.

The outdoor stage at the Roadhouse, on Bell Avenue in Robla, south of what used to be McClellan AFB, is rarely used for shows. It was the perfect setting for the evening’s metal undertaking. With a small lighting truss and little more than night sky as a backdrop, Nevermore played to the 150-plus attendees as if they were at a large outdoor festival in front of thousands.

Warrel’s voice, as evidenced on “Narcosynthesis” and “Inside Four Walls,” was in fine form, not unlike that of Forbidden’s Russ Anderson. Van Williams played like a human metronome on such standout tracks as “The Heart Collector” and “Dead Heart in a Dead World,” the title track. Jim Sheppard looked maniacal as ever, standing in front of the huge blower fans; his bass provided a nice foundation for Jeff Loomis’ guitar antics. On this night the band was sporting a second guitarist whose name escapes me, adding a nice foundation and extra boost of power to its hour-long set.

Perhaps the most startling revelation of the night was Loomis’ background vocals—sung while playing the most intricate fretboard workouts—which enveloped Dane’s vocals in the most delightful rapture of sounds. Loomis can sing and steps up to the mic with passion and gusto; Dane made it all look too easy as he held long notes that could make middle-aged men go deaf.

The night’s turnout, although small, didn’t seem to hamper anyone’s experience. Fans were pleased with the night’s two-band line-up and felt their $20 was well spent—sans having to walk through square dancing inside the club to get to the outdoor venue. It pleases this writer that there are still a few promoters out there willing to take chances on package tours. With crowd numbers such as tonight, it’s not likely Nevermore will play Sacramento again. My advice to metalheads in the Sacramento Valley: Get off your asses and support these shows before we lose another venue.

(SN&R)

A little brouhaha at the Capitol Garage

An unlikely pairing of Snubnose and Split Lip Rayfield at a recent Monday Capitol Garage show made me wonder if the two crowds each attracted would get along. After all, I’ve never seen kitschy bluegrass attempted alongside angst-ridden punk rock. Sacramento’s bluegrass scene, limited to a handful of acts—FTRAScott Joss—should’ve been proud to knock down doors to play on such a bill. How did a power punk-rock trio land this one? On this night, however, ’twas history in the making; both acts, coupled together, made for a rockin’ good time.

Snubnose, the night’s openers, dazzled and delighted the 25-plus early attendees with their tales of drinking, money (or lack thereof) and debauchery. Led by the talents of lead vocalist/bassist L. Ron Drunkard, the Sacramento trio rifled through a set of three-chord standards and blues-soaked numbers. New guitarist/vocalist Jordan Peterson, who’d only played a handful of shows previously, seemed right at home on the Capitol Garage stage. The antics of drummer Magnificent El Cajon—wearing cowboy hat and swilling beer throughout the set—were thoroughly contagious. He seemed to enjoy himself so much I couldn’t help but crack a smile.

After a short break, it was time for the night’s main attaction, Bloodshot recording act Split Lip Rayfield from Wichita, Kansas. I’d seen the band at SXSW, the yearly industry schmoozefest in Austin, during a Bloodshot showcase. The band, then a three-piece, was Eric Mardis on banjo, Kirk Rundstrom on guitar and Jeff Eaton on bass, and was, arguably, the best act on the bill. The free beer and hot dogs didn’t hurt either. And with the addition of Wayne Gottstein on mandolin, Split Lip Rayfield was unstoppable.

Split Lip Rayfield played its tongue-in-cheek ditties and porch standards at breakneck speed. By first song’s end, the Garage was filled with 20- and 30-somethings and the smell of Budweiser. Eaton’s bass, fabricated from a gas tank with a single weed-whacker string, created a nice foundation for the juxtaposing rhythms of Mardis’ and Gottstein’s fretwork—imagine Ricky Skaggs on crank. The pseudo-white-trash quartet was right at home in Sacramento, and played new material supporting its recent album, Never Make It Home, whose songs formed the bulk of the set list.

To match the vibe, Split Lip sold bargain thrift-store T-shirts for $5 alongside its pricier shirts at $15. The shirts, which came from various places of origin—flea markets, dumpster diving—were about as ugly as they were hilarious. Heaped in piles on their merchandise table with virtually no attempt at an orderly presentation, the shirts resembled dirty laundry more than saleable product.

The combination of Snubnose’s most rocking moments—the Cramps meet Reverend Horton Heat—with Split Lip Rayfield’s unbelievably skilled players made for one rollicking good time in old Sacto. For a measly $7 cover, you couldn’t beat it.

(SN&R)

Flicker

Vocalist Jared Payne can be seen at such local haunts as Scratch 8 or Maui Pizza, working his band like a major-label promotion rep might. His considerable drive and determination have made this five-piece a household name among some considerable local competition—the Revolution Smile, Shortie, Long Drive Home, Tenfold—and Flicker’s latest effort has garnered a considerable buzz in the Sacramento Valley. Shaun Weiss and Scott Simpson form an able guitar duo with an ear for melody. Strict 9 exudes the positive amounts of energy needed to remain competitive. From the swirling chorus of “Label Me” to the fiery “Save Your Breath,” it’s clear that Flicker doesn’t plan on being a Sacramento bar fixture in 2002. Production problems aside—cymbal wash, lack of low end—Strict 9 is a local-scene triumph. SAMMIE committee, take note: It’s the orange CD with the menacing girl on the over. Give it a listen.

(SN&R)