Anyone who’s stayed in the city for at least a couple years straight knows New Orleans has definite periods of dispersing her children (after Mardi Gras) and harvesting them all back to her sticky, sweaty breasts (around September and October). Summers can be brutal, not for the heat but for the lack of friends around and bands to book. I’m one of those “rooted” types. I’ve gotten so used to it, I’ve developed a ritual: by March I’m prepping for cloistered life and a whole season without my usual social safety nets. Yet somewhere between lazy naps with pitbulls and personal projects, I managed to go out and find that good dirt to roll in.
“Ask me about my social awkwardness”
In the summer, there’s a funny camaraderie that weaves other rooted types together. In my opinion, it’s easier to maneuver a small group than a sea of strangers. The small talk—much as I hate it—actually becomes genuine conversation. Networks are formed, threads that weave our dysfunctional DIY scene are tightened, and even a lone wolf weirdo like me can come away feeling glad to have stepped out the house.
July 15: Choi Wolf / Vibe Ruiner / Reptilian Shape Shifters / Calculator
This was the summer event that jarred me out of seclusion. It was supposed to be a generator show, but was moved to the Big Top at the last minute due to some menacing cumulonimbus clouds. I was already committed to punkin out in an abandoned urban wilderness somewhere, but had a great time regardless. The last time I saw Choi Wolf was exactly a year ago, at the Maize. I can’t say much about the other bands, but they killed it then, and they killed it again at the Big Top. Choi Wolf is probably one of my favorite bands in this whore-with-a-heart-of-gold city. Their songs are never more than two minutes long, which means a super short set. Good thing—any longer and folks would have to call the pigs on my rowdy ass. Having them open the show is pretty much like playing Wolverine in Marvel v. Capcom, exploding with Berserker Barrage, using up all the X Factor without care, mercilessly slicing your unwitting opponent and ending the match in two seconds flat. Say what?!
Basically, Choi Wolf rocked: high energy all the way and tight, fast tunes with screamy vocals I can understand. Of course they ended the set with “My Posi is Wet” from their 2012 album, Fluffy. That song slays. I am a sucker for the classic Black Sabbath-y breakdown and I start to thrash and scream along: “I don’t give a fuck/a-bout you/now/you can drop dead/for/all I/CARE!” Reportedly, this was their last show until October, so I’m glad I caught their set. Maybe I’ll see you then?
Reptilian Shape Shifter was next, a two- piece from Oakland. I listened to their bandcamp and didn’t expect to like them as much as I did live. Drumming was Lightning Bolt thrash-crash, sometimes with firing-squad snare action or dramatic cymbal wash; all in all a good match for the schizo-complicated guitar riffs. I liked the super-tight millisecond silences in their songs. Plenty of artsy feedback, but I’ll forgive them because they are, in fact, art students from Cali.
I was standing outside the whole time for Calculator (from L.A.) and they were still too loud. I’ve noticed dude bands are mostly guilty of this. Why y’all do that? No hate—believe me, I love me some mens all day! As a fellow musician I just wanna know why? It makes no sense. Props to Bryan for running the sound board and trying to make them sound good.
Finally: Vibe Ruiner! Saw them last at the epic un-fail that was their show at Hey! Cafe a few months back. Nothing’s more punk than a busted P.A. so Auryn has to come close and scream in my face. For this show, since the Big Top is an actual venue with real working equipment, Auryn mostly had his back to the audience and seemed distant, which was fine. It only added to his mystique. Starting the set with stately tom work and thoughtful, heavy vibes, Auryn’s vocals soar above. The band pounds into a fast riff then sludgy break, where they give us a little lullabye before chaos returns, a nice reprieve from the hardcore insanity. “Screaming vocals have already been done,” I heard someone say through the grapevine. But this shit ain’t “done” if you do it tastefully enough like these fools, mixing the scream with breakdowns heavy on the malaise and resurging back to chaos, with all musicians on pointe.
JULY 26: Southern Femisphere / HiGH / Kittens Forever
Another Bakery show, folks! The usual trickling in of people and locking up their bikes. The usual standing around. It was a No More Fiction show. I knew it was going to be good, but for a second, the old man party across the street pumpin hot jams out a boombox seemed appealing to me. Only for a second. The usual grappling with my social awkwardness. I brought a book just in case. The usual bro-ing out with the donkey and mini- horse. Wondering why they don’t do stuff in the bakery part of the Bakery instead of up in the front part. Wondering if the show would get shut down like the last couple events they’ve had.
Southern Femisphere (from South Carolina) was good. It’s always refreshing to have a female voice screaming at me for a change, over music just as aggressive. The drums drive the songs, the vocals were reminiscent of Sleater-Kinney during the scream parts and there were also some lovely harmonies. Their stage presence was kind of stiff, but that’s probably because road trips are tiring— touring even more so—and they were the first band to play.
HiGH was a local favorite. The bassist, Izzy, waited for his little brother and sister to come back from the store. Awww, how sweet. He even had some of his co-workers at the show to support him, awww. I had never heard them before, but HiGH reminded me of Green Day à la 1,039/Smoothed Out Slappy Hours, which is a compliment. They even did a couple covers: “I Think We’re Alone Now” (on paper I know it sounds rough but trust me, it wasn’t so bad!) and “The KKK Took My Baby Away,” a classic.
The usual wooos after a popular band plays.
Since it was summer and everyone was gone, Osa had to branch out and find bands from other niches in the city to play. Understandable; mad props to Osa for booking these dudes, because they definitely brought their own crowd. Moreover, “cliquing” in a scene and asking the same bands over and over to play gets way boring super quick. It’s up to us to sew our own community tighter and incorporate others. Networking only helps us; I’d argue that’s what makes New Orleans so special. Everyone’s in it together. Lovely camaraderie, awww.
Lastly, Kitten Forever, the trio from Minneapolis, rocked so hard I followed their lead of bra-exhibitionism and joined the band in shameless, sweaty ecstasy. I appreciated everyone switching instruments and singing. Confession: I didn’t take any notes because I was too busy rocking out. All I can say is this:
1) They did an encore song because the crowd demanded it.
2) I wasn’t the only one dancing.
3) If you ever hear of them coming back around these parts, I strongly suggest a go-see.
The night ended with ghost stories, drunken conversation about parallel universes, alternate realities, time travel and ghosts cohabiting with the living.
WEIRD!
