Dateless on Valentine's Day eve, last night I decided against following the music journalists to the Battle of the Bands at The Union as mentioned in my last post, and with a couple of friends made the trek up to 46 Grosvenor St. for what they'd advertised as Death Day, subtly subtitled with the phrase "Love is Dead," an event that stuffed 4 different bands into a tight corner of the basement. The lineup: Zupaño, 5 Deadly Venoms, Gnomenclature, and Tribe of the Mountain. (my apologies, as I could only find 2 of the MySpace pages)
We missed Zupaño. I do, however, remember seeing them at another house show I was at by chance sometime last year. The reason I remember, specifically, is because I was quite afraid that the floor was about to give out in the room where they were playing. That due to the room being completely packed with sweaty bodies. One of the guys in the band is a friend of my roommate's, I think his name is Shaun (or Sean, or Shawn). Their sound, if I'm remembering correctly, is a kind of jazz rock with the tendency to jam a whole lot.
So, my friends and I identified the house upon arrival from the sound that was coming from the house, it being audible about 5 houses down. I made my way into the basement and attempted to worm my way through the rippling audience toward the front, but it wasn't working out. Crammed in the corner was 5 Deadly Venoms, who were playing a sort of bluesy, hard rock, and the guitarist was using an effects pedal that made his tone sound like a cat trying to scratch its way out of a bag, a description I ought give credit to my friend for. The crowd, which far exceeded any safe number of people that ought to be in this basement at one time, was pretty into it. The sound guy, twiddling knobs near the side of the stage, was wearing a viking hat.
After that set finished, Gnonemclature set up in the corner, unleashing a sort of crunchy, pop/rock music. The weak point, I thought, was the vocalist, who would be pretty hard for me to describe without sounding like a big jerk. He reminded me of a clown, if that gives you any idea. But, that aside, I enjoyed their set a good deal, and would have more so if someone else
had been singing their songs.
At this point, the case of beer my friends and I bought with us was reaching its ultimate demise, and my memory becomes a bit foggy. I was diligently typing notes into my cell phone (things like "blues. viking hat.") earlier in the evening, but had ceased somewhere during the last cigarette break. I remember Tribe of the Mountain being a slinky, loud blues rock sort of deal, with the vocalist alternating between smooth baritone and angered bark. It was great, actually. I remember dancing, but not who with.
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