BRAND NEW FEATURE:
IMN OnTrack with Kwyjibo

Story by Ryan Williams

March 30th @ The Chatterbox

Listen: http://www.acmerecords.com/mp3/ChickenSquareDance.mp3

We’re re-tooling the Artist Of The Week feature to put a little more emphasis on the actual music being made here in Indianapolis. IMN OnTrack will take a closer look at one track a local artist has put on the web for your perusal, and give you a little history behind the music as well. We’re timing this look to coincide with that artist’s performance in the coming week, but our real goal is to get local music on your computer or portable media player. Think of this like the musical equivalent of a food court sample.

This week’s IMN OnTrack features Kwyjibo, an ‘electric jazz’ band with roots ranging from Bloomington to Germany. The group’s leader, guitarist Peter Kienle, started the project after the dissolution of the venerable jazz outfit Beeblebrox in 2002. They’re playing the Chatterbox this Friday night, March 23rd. We took the track ‘Chicken Square Dance’ from their record label site.

Recommended for fans of modern jazz or those with progressive rock leanings.

– Ryan Williams —

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EXCLUSIVE REVIEW: Albert Hammond Jr. and Mooney Suzuki

Story by David Searle -

March 21st @ Birdy’s

Have you heard of Carlos Mencia? I’m sure you have. But have you heard of Carlos Menstealia?There is a war going on in the comedy world. Apparently, a few of comedy’s top acts (Mencia, Dane Cook) are guilty of cheating by stealing jokes from other comics. I would say ‘allegedly,’ but the evidence is overwhelming. If you are into stand-up, my guess is that you have a very passionate opinion about the subject one way or another.

Originality is a touchy subject in any art scene, and music is no exception. If you ever feel like getting your ass beat, go to a show at the Melody Inn and unironically shout out a request for ‘Brown Eyed Girl’. Rarely if ever will you see a bill split between an original band and a cover band.

And like Mencia, there has been a long history of rock bands being accused of plagerism, from Led Zepplin to Green Day to Jet. The king of these accusations is when John Fogerty, through some crazy loophole, was sued for sounding like himself.

The Mooney Suzuki is neither guilty of being a cover band nor of directly stealing riffs. But their recent performance at Birdy’s fell into a third category - they borrowed so many elements from so many bands so frequently that their performance was utterly unremarkable.

Busting out my well-worn copy of “Introduction To Modern Rock Criticism,” I see that a good review should describe five things: the quality of the songwriting, the look & stage presence of the band, the reaction of the crowd, and the quality of the musicianship. Well, this may sound like a cop-out, but I swear that the songs were indistinguishable, the onstage set-up and crowd interaction was rock’n'roll 101, and the crowd was reduced to polite head-nodding. I will give the band one kudos, in that they were very tight for the first half of the set, after which the apathy of the audience seemed to skim off whatever edge they had.

The only thing worse than a boring, droning show is a boring, droning review of a boring, droning show. So I will leave it at that.

Albert Hammond Jr. provided an interesting spin on the originality in art conversation. His band and his material sounded virtually identical to one specific band: The Strokes. This is mostly forgivable, however, because of course Hammond is an actual member of The Strokes.

If you are a fan of leather jackets and Jewfros, you would love this band. Beyond giving a few “thank you”s to the audience, Hammond was mostly silent. The most gregarious member of the band was the keyboard player, who finished each song with a little keyboard flourish and winked to friends in the audience.

“101″ and “Everyone Gets A Star” were the highlights, and unsurprisingly were the Strokes-est. He added a little keyboard here and an acoustic guitar there, but mostly he was content to stick to the jagged guitar rhythms, the bursts of high-hat, and steady bass lines that made his NY band famous.

Neither band was an epiphany, but Albert Hammond’s license to steal succeeded where the Mooney Suzuki failed.

– David Searle —

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EXCLUSIVE PHOTOS: Relient K

Photos by Joel Faurote -

March 18th @ The Murat

Relient K:

Related Link: http://jtfdzn.zenfolio.com/

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EXCLUSIVE REVIEW: The Hold Steady
Story by David Searle - Photos by Joel Faurote -

March 16th @ The Music Mill

When is the last time you saw a really happy band? Most bands these days seem to be deadly serious about their art. Their onstage demeanor seems as if a roadie just died and this face-melting solo will honor his amp-hauling memory. Other bands hop around the stage like they just got their Red Bull wings, but being energetic doesn’t always mean happiness (just ask your local cokehead). But even though you can’t see it on their faces, obviously touring rock musicians must be happy on some level. They sure have a lot to smile about. Some of them are sexy, most of them are ungodly rich, and all of them are rockstars. So why the frowny face, Charlie Brown?That’s why it was a blast to see the Hold Steady having a blast on Friday. From the opening riff to the encore, they had grins on their faces the size of Lake Minnetonka. It was as if they had in-ear monitors feeding them the sound of puppies dancing in a meadow. It was refreshing to see a band drop the cool act and enjoy themselves. “This should be normal,” I thought.

Opening song “Stuck Between Stations” sounded huge, but then again so did every song. The Hold Steady and Wilco share a common trait - they are both a pair of 80’s shades and a cover of “Brown Eyed Girl” away from being a bar band. And yet they both also have the artistic vision and lyrical gravitas to be taken seriously. So they give us an excuse to enjoy the Les Paul guitar riffs and thundering drums. A live recording of this show could get airplay of Q95 with a little payola.

This paragraph is dedicated to the awesome-est sideman ever, Hold Steady keyboardist Franz Nicolay. Words can’t do this guy justice (which sucks for my purposes).

Imagine a guy who looks like the cooler oldest Super Mario Brother, plays the keys with a look on his face like he just ate a really delicious muffin, and drinks straight out of a wine bottle on stage. Every song he played was the emotional climax to him. Here’s to you, Franz.

Frontman Craig Finn drew frequent comparisons between Indianapolis and his hometown of Minneapolis, pointing out that people keep congratulating him on the Colts victory. He also commented that the crowd was the most polite the band has seen on its current tour. I think that has more to do with the atmosphere of the venue rather than the placidity of Indiana music fans. The Music Mill has the interior of a really hip furniture store. Which, coupled with the non-smoking factor, actually presents a decent atmosphere for concerts. Not every show has to be a bleary-eyed, bottle breaking, mosh-pitting war (although a rougher environment might have provided a more suitable context for this particular show).

As another concert-goer put it, every song was an anthem. I was impressed with the band’s ability to stay tight musically as the night played out, fighting off fatigue and the effects of the booze they openly drank onstage. “Southtown Girls” was as close as they got to a ballad, and even that song featured a bit of odd time signature riffing. “Your Little Hoodrat Friend” was drawn out into an instrumental vamp while Finn thanked the audience for coming. Maybe the Music Mill had an effect on him too, because he was the most polite frontman I’d seen in awhile.

As the show was winding down, Finn had one more polite overture to give to the crowd.”There is so much joy in what we do onstage. Thank you, Indianapolis, for sharing that joy with us.”

No, Hold Steady, thank you.

– David Searle

– Related Link: http://jtfdzn.zenfolio.com

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EXCLUSIVE PHOTOS: Clutch
Photos by Kris Arnold -

March 13th @ The Vogue

Related Link: http://krisarnoldphotography.com

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EXCLUSIVE PHOTOS:
The Ataris, Asobi Seksu, and Wax On Radio
Photos by Joel Faurote -

March 11th @ The Emerson Theater

The Ataris

Asobi Seksu

Wax On Radio

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EXCLUSIVE REVIEW: TV On The Radio
Story by David Searle -

March 8th @ The Vogue

It is very rare in Indianapolis to see a live show by a band at the peak of its powers. Often it feels as though bands who pass through our fair city are either about to blow up (like The Strokes at Birdy’s several years ago), are just coming down from their career highs (Sufjan Stevens at the end of ‘06), or are reliving days of glories past (The Lemonheads recently).So it was a rare treat to experience TV On The Radio at The Vogue last night. If major music publications (and their indie-cred counterparts) gave out actual physical trophies with their top ten lists, TVOTR would have to rent a warehouse to store them all. You couldn’t get very far in the critical music canon without hearing about the Mario Brothers 2-named Return To Cookie Mountain, and every hipster from coast to coast had the lyrics to ‘Wolf Like Me’ on their lips. And clearly, they were still riding high on that wave come Thursday night.

Pre-show, I was concerned. I recalled my experience seeing Blonde Redhead several years ago. A cool band that makes sonically dense records sounds like the perfect band to see live, am I right? But someone forgot to tell the sound engineer for Redhead, because I literally had to walk out of the ear-destroying, cat-nails-on-a-chalkboard sound. I feared that TVOTR might succumb to the same aural trappings.

Thankfully, they were smart enough to realize that a great guitar sound doesn’t need to go to eleven to blow the room away. What’s the point on spending all that money on guitar pedals if you drown the room out with a whitewash of noise? An ace rhythm section that sounded more like a heartbeat that a metronome allowed Kyp Malone’s guitar to cut right to the core.

The music wasn’t the kind of tunes you needed to ‘get.’ You didn’t need the Pitchfork Media’s Guide to the Musical Galaxy to translate the sound into something you could feel. It was the kind of show where complete strangers wandered into The Vogue, compelled by a friend who knew the ropes, and listened for five seconds and thought “yeah, this is it.” Remember that Onion article ‘Concert Ruined By Guy Enjoying Himself’ that had the line “everyone at a show is standing there, arms folded, having a great time?” All those guys who usually stand there in the hipster pose (guilty) couldn’t help themselves. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t Dance Dance Revolution out there, but it was like a Timberlake video compared to the usual unwavering crush these bands typically attract.

It will be a long time before I let the image of two girls grind dancing to ‘Province’ slip out of my mind. They were students at Butler who heard that this was the hottest ticket in town and bought tickets for a friend’s birthday. Who knew that indie-rock was so bootylicious?

The obvious highlight was ‘Wolf Like Me.’ I would like to say that it was more intense live than it is on record, but how could it be? However, the intensity of the single was matched last night, and that is a feat all by itself. The encore saw the band bring out their friends and opening act Subtle (whose lead singer looked like he just jumped out of an A-Ha video and whom TVOTR thanked repeatedly from the stage) for a bare-bones version of ‘A Method.’ A bass guitar was the only accompaniment for voices and all the percussion could could find in a typical music shop. The night was closed out by a fist-pumping version of former “it” song ‘Staring At The Sun.’

My friend Aaron (whose knowledge of the show prior to the start consisted solely of the fact that he was getting in for free) turned to me midway through the show and asked “What genre is this?” I replied, “Exactly.”

– David Searle —

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