Southeast Engine, Frontier Ruckus, The Coke Dares, The Kyle Sowashes - Treehouse

With four bands on a bill, it’s more than likely one of them is going to be a dud, or at least have an off night. But the Treehouse was four for four on Friday night.

The main event was the release of Athens, Ohio’s Southeast Engine newest offering, From the Forest to the Sea. As I mentioned last week, it’s a record full of spiritual yearning and self-condemnation, and it’s also one of the best albums released so far this year. What struck me most about Southeast Engine’s indie-folk live is how well bassist Jesse Remnant’s tenor harmonies complement singer (and brother) Adam Remnant’s wonderfully crackled voice--one filled with meandering eccentricities that wouldn’t be easy to harmonize. Watching the Remnants belt out the melodies in fraternal sync was one of my favorite parts of the night.

The set was heavy with new stuff, and I liked the loose, spacious feeling the live setting lent to the songs. Foot-tapping rockers like “Black Gold” and more restrained numbers like “Law-Abiding Citizen” and “From the Roots of the Mountains to Your Holy Temple” came together superbly beneath the Treehouse lights.

Taking the stage before Southeast Engine was Michigan band Frontier Ruckus, a stylistically perfect choice to go with the Remnants and company. I only caught a few songs, but it was enough to convince me to pick up the band’s debut full-length, The Orion Songbook. I highly recommend it. After listening to it the morning after the show, I couldn’t wait to press play and start it all over again. That doesn’t happen very often.

Songwriter Matthew Millia has created a bunch of folk-inspired songs about the mythological Orion Town, and the band fleshes out his singular voice and imaginative, literate lyrics with deft acoustic guitar, singing saw, trumpet, banjo and lovely female harmonies. The songs, whether “Bethlehem” or “Adirondack Amish Holler,” convey a vivid sense of place. Really good stuff.

The second half of the night was a completely different style of show. Part II was jovial, with significantly less weighty subject matter--just lots of laughs and endless energy. The Coke Dares, from Bloomington, Ind., had one of the most original sets I’ve ever seen and were laugh-out-loud funny. Until the last song, the trio, wearing black T-shirts that said “The,” “Coke” and “Dares,” respectively, didn’t play one song longer than about a minute and 30 thirty seconds. Some were even under 30 seconds, but each one packed a punch. It wasn’t rare to have a song’s title contain the majority of the lyrics, e.g. “I’m Gonna Love You Like a Hot Teen.”

Meditate, if you will, on “Wood,” which clocked in at about 30 seconds: “If you’re gonna make it, make it good, you’re gonna wanna make it outta wooooood.” “Tour Rot” told the (brief) story of playing at Bernie’s when one of two people at the show threw up at the band’s feet. “Rocking all the Time” told of the band’s love for whiskey, pills, wine and, of course, rocking all the time. With a sound that’s aptly been described as a mix of Guided By Voices and the Ramones, you’d never know these dudes also play in Magnolia Electric Co.

The most shocking and hilarious moment of the set came as the band wrapped up its supposedly last song, and then launched into an extended version of Pink Floyd’s “Shine on You Crazy Diamond,” with lots of faux endings along the way. It also proved singer Jason Groth is a ridiculously talented guitarist. I can’t say I’d listen to these guys on record a whole lot, but I advise you not to miss an opportunity to see them live.

The Kyle Sowashes kept the energy level high, as is their custom. I think everything Sowash does translates better live, in a whirlwind of guitar, beard and thick, black-rimmed glasses. “My Resume” from last year’s Yeah Buddy! sounded great, and all the more applicable lyrically because of what people like to call “the current economic climate.” And Sowash’s everyman goofiness shone through on “Rumours”: “When I was small, I had it bad for Stevie Nicks/ I just stared at the back of Fleetwood Mac until the age of six.”

The strong set of Sowash-stamped, throwback indie rock was a fitting finish to a night of unusually good music.

mp3: Southeast Engine - Black Gold
Southeast Engine Daytrotter Session
mp3: The Coke Dares - Wood

The Black Swans, Megan Palmer - Andyman's Treehouse, 1/4/08

In the first few weeks of the new year, I get a year-end-list hangover in which, after reading countless “Best of” lists, I realize how many great releases and live shows I missed in the previous year. The Black Swans fall into the category of a live act I somehow never saw, but thankfully I remedied the situation Friday night at Andyman’s Treehouse. I then kicked myself repeatedly for missing all those shows.

On the Black Swans latest release, Change!, the atmosphere this trio creates is other-worldly, and that same vibe was present at such an intimate venue in front of a hushed crowd (aside from the spill-over from the pool room). There’s an eerie coolness to the Black Swans’ songs, like being alone in a desert at night. The band takes cues from folk, country and blues to create a pastiche that is gorgeous, spooky, depressing and bare.

The most surprising part of the band’s sound is singer/guitarist Jerry DeCicca’s voice, which rarely rose above a thick-throated whisper. There’s beauty in his unusual, understated delivery. Adding to the eerie feel was Noel Sayre’s moaning Appalachian fiddle, which was as integral to the songs as the vocals. On the last tune, “3 Chord Song,” Sayre showed his mastery of the instrument. Throughout the set, Canaan Faulkner’s unpretentious bass lines and DeCicca’s simple acoustic guitar lines let the mood and words develop naturally.

It’s a rare thing when a songwriter’s lyrics can stand alone as poetry (see collections by Jim Morrison and Jewel), but most of DeCicca’s lyrics can do just that. (Pick up a copy of Change! and listen to “3 Broken Words” and “New Face” for some good examples.) At one point, though, DeCicca stopped a song after realizing he couldn’t remember the words. But, he said, it didn’t matter because “they all sound the same anyway.” There’s some truth to that. The Black Swans don’t exactly mix things up stylistically. But if you can do one thing that well, why veer?

With national press taking notice, it might not be long before we’re pining for the days when we could see the Black Swans at a place like Andyman’s, and the same could be said for Megan Palmer, who preceded the band. In her last Columbus show before a stint in New York, Palmer was accompanied by two fiddlers and an occasional backing vocalist. Like the Black Swans, Palmer’s songs were perfect for the intimacy of this room. The local favorite gave a passionate, inspired performance.

The delivery that sometimes comes across as dull on her most recent record, Take You Away, transformed into something pensive and intriguing live. It’s apparent Palmer’s becoming a seasoned performer, looking right at home on stage (or in the case of Andyman’s, on the ground in front of some Christmas lights). “Matador” showcased her knack for a clever turn of phrase (“I go so quickly from love to liability”) and the dead-on harmonies allowed the emotionality of the song to erupt. She had more jazziness to her voice, as well, especially on “Hair of the Dog.”

I found myself grinning during the set’s closer, “Desperate Housewives,” as Palmer sang, “Desperate housewives make honky-tonk angels when they finally get away,” and as I looked around the room, I noticed I wasn’t the only one.

More pics from the show here.

mp3: The Black Swans - Change
mp3: Megan Palmer downloads at Sunken Treasure