Off the Air showcases are consistently high quality. March 2nd was no exception; there’s something about not knowing which band was the best act that makes me feel all fuzzy.
CAVE Women took the stage first, and they played up the ‘rock’ elements of their music beyond what’s on their EP. Something magical happened when they broke into the opening harmonies of “This Heart of Mine.” The realization that the band would be just as much at home playing the Gallo Center for jazz/classical cronies as they are tearing up the packed Deva Cafe hit hard. Bassist Casey Lipka led the band in their only cover, a Smith’s song that didn’t always have as tight of a groove as it did last night. There is audible chemistry in the band’s recorded material, but their live performance brings CAVE Women’s ability to stay in the pocket to the forefront. Inward smiles were on their faces throughout, and drummer Vanessa Cruz’s tight cymbal work behind the band provided a nice contrast to the rest of the night’s (louder) kit work. The award for biggest stage presence of the night was taken early by guitarist Alicyn Yaffee, whose intense grimaces, back-and-forths with the other CAVE Women, and meticulously played solos were fun as hell to watch. Each of the CAVE Women took the vocal lead on a song, making it pleasantly impossible to single one out as the front-woman. No songs were skimped on: Lipka played the mbira on “Under the Willow Tree,” and Kim Davis whipped out a baritone sax solo that closed out the set. Including Emily Messick’s beautiful organ work, I counted at least eight different instruments played by the Women throughout the night, and it gave their set a split-pomegranate timbre.
Next on stage was Kapowski, the Oakland, CA “pop quartet.” Sam Ospovat kicked off their set with the opening tom hits of “A Bothering Man.” The savory distinct sound of Kapowski’s “Boy Detective” lost nothing in the live performance; if anything, the sand-blasted glassiness of the two keyboards was yet more gigantic, the thick-as-Yosemite-Redwood basslines of Jon Gondo more distinct. It was a night for the drummers though, with Ospovat driving the band forward behind the kit. At one point his drums looked like they lost a fight with a garbage truck; cymbals and exotic percussion were draped across the toms and snare. “Section Eight” was the highlight of the set. The kaleidoscopic counterpoint between Rimler and Coleman’s keyboards was on full display, as well as Gondo and Ospovat’s talent at laying a huge rhythmic backbone for Rimler’s voice to waltz over. The organ solos gave CAVE Women competition for most faces melted that night, but nothing came close to Coleman’s noisy echoplex-and-organ ‘solo’ that closed out a song and sounded like a thousand pinball machines rolling down Mt. Shasta.
I could feel the underwear melting throughout the cafe when Scott Huerta and Mack Bunch started setting up for the French Cassettes (though neither of them have anything on bassist Thomas Huerta’s beard). The following they have, especially in the Valley, is amazing to be around. Hearing the crowd sing along with “Little Shoes,” “Seahorse,” and “Radley” makes me feel like I’m in a Baptist church, but instead of speaking in tongues, people are chanting their favorite songs. Scott Huerta’s singing is infectious, and the mix let his voice shine through and break every heart in the room. I last saw these guys at Plea for Peace Center in Stockton, and the harmonies of the other Cassettes shone through much better in the Cafe. Drummer Ben was the most rock-and-roll badass behind the kit that night, and the evidence wasn’t just in the piece of broken drum stick my friend caught. It was in the relentless fills and triplets across the set, and the piston-like attunement with Thomas Huerta’s intricate bass work. The Cassettes debuted several new songs to the screaming fans, and so instead of singing along they danced to Mac Bunch’s ’80s-styled synth lines and even reggaeton-quoting beats that sounded like the B-52s playing in the Caribbean with Freddie Mercury guesting on vocals.
And if that last line didn’t emphasize how fun last night was, it bears mentioning that no amount of drunk girls shaking posters or spilled drinks could bring down March 2nd’s Off the Air show. The sound quality was consistently good: no vocals were ever drowned out, the reverb didn’t shimmer away the details, and every solo ripped through the mix like Mentos in Pepsi. In between sets, DJ Sonny Frisco kept the shoes moving and heads bobbing. The crowd was friendly, and deserved the encore they demanded. It was one for the history books. Plus, I got this badass framed poster!
March 2nd, 2012, I will treasure you forever.
Ricardo Friaz is the sole voice of alsofrightened.com which is a music blog based out of Turlock, CA with an emphasis on local and California indie music.
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