The Spin

Gently, thoughtfully rocked

THE SHINS may have found a larger audience, but not necessarily a livelier one, so it was no surprise that married duo and openers VIVA VOCE had to work the crowd a little at the Ryman Friday night. “Flex your butt muscles to simulate dancing,” implored KEVIN ROBINSON to a seated crowd. Joining Robinson was wife ANITA ROBINSON, whose good looks were amplified by the greasy rock coming from her pink guitar. Kevin, sporting a Richie Tenenbaum headband, admitted he was nervous playing drums in Nashville, because there were probably 20 drummers in the crowd that could “eat his lunch.” But he still challenged any of them to play guitar from behind the kit like he does. And eventually, VV got part of the crowd up—but not quite moving—by the end of their loud, scorching set. (Would anything rouse these pasty pop nerds to action?) Then came the opening melody of “Sleeping Lessons,” which played as The Shins ambled into place in front of a large background of amoebic graphics from their new album, Wincing theNight Away. And it actually provoked a response—well, a response as strong as you’d expect for these gentle-pop purveyors. In other words, some people stood up—at least, most of the floor-level crowd did, but only one section or so of the “Confederate Gallery” were out of their seats. The set was heavy on new songs, with some faster cuts from Chutes Too Narrow, which enlivened the mild-mannered crowd considerably. But the insomnia-inspired songs on Wincing weren’t always captivating enough for the audience: as the evening wore on, the mellower songs turned into refill-time on $8 beers for many. Eventually, though, the encore kicked off with a couple of covers, followed by indecision over what to play next. Turns out they wanted to stay on the historic stage longer, and who can blame them? Frontman JAMES MERCER, dressed in a shirt and tie, earnestly acknowledged the gravity of playing at a place such as the Ryman, though he referred to it as the Ryman “Theater.” Hey, it’s the thought that counts.

8th by Southwest

We sure were in Nashville Monday night, but it was all about Austin. All night long at Mercy Lounge, South by Southwest was all the buzz in the audience chatter: Are you going? Where are you staying? What bands are you most excited about seeing? It was a lineup that amounted to band practice for a handful of Nashville rock acts heading out in the next two days for BBQ, boozin’ and schmoozin’, and every two feet we ran into a CASIO CASANOVA, a DAVE PAULSON, a BAWSTON SEAN, a DILLON NAPIER, a JASON BULLOCK. Even the ’Boro represented, with Feable Weiner’s ATOM WEINER and former Bang Up HENRY DAGGSmaking a rare appearance. Onstage, GLOSSARYwere perfecting the 3 Rs of Glossary: rich, rootsy and rockin’. HOW I BECAME THE BOMB showed up all dapper and prom-ready in their silky, embroidered vests, wide ties and pleated pants, using the time to run through three of their best songs, including the fervent “Secret Identity.” One listen to JON BURR’S stronger vocals and it was clear the boys had been practicing, a suspicion confirmed by U.K. label Domino’s ROSS ALLEN, who showed up while in the States to check out the band in the midst of negotiating a management agreement with them. Up next were BANG BANG BANG, whose rowdy rock nearly dwarfed the sound of the other acts, particularly on the slinky moan of “Rock ’n’ Roll Queen.” And it seems THE PINK SPIDERS can’t play a show in Nashville without incident: the band got through two new songs, the piano-poppy “Amelia” and the razor-sharp “Fuck You, Fuck Me” before what appeared to be a water bottle flew onstage from an unidentifiable arm. Though it looked like good-natured ribbing, singer MATT FRICTION encouraged the thrower to meet the band outside with a posse to discuss the matter. Look out, Austin!

It defied all reason, but we could have sworn we were watching a really young David Byrne on stage Saturday night at the Mercy Lounge. Instead, it was NICK KRILL of THE SPINTO BAND, a group who actually owe more to the sound of the Talking Heads than their look. The underage sextet played careening, audacious pop with a tautness that belied their years, even as they pulled ridiculous faces and quirky poses, sprawling about the stage willy-nilly like wild pigs on crack. (It was a good thing, trust us.) Up next were THE WHIGS,who might have been brilliant, but wedged between The Spinto Band and THE FEATURES were kind of hard to make out. PARKER GISPERT’s growly melodies are tired, but the trio bashed out simple, gut-level tunes with such confidence that it was hard for us to keep still. Boys in khaki pants and worn baseball caps and girls who claim to like “all types of music” were in thrall. So while the band won’t be refashioning any wheels, they’re a solid new contender in frat-friendly, Southern rock ’n’ roll. Speaking of solid contenders, you know when you go to see a band and they play a lot of new songs that nobody really knows yet, so the band frontload their set with them and the crowd endures them tepidly as they wait for the hits and old songs they love? This Features show was nothing like that. Their entire set was hotly received by the packed crowd, and their mix of oldies and new stuff was capped with a searing final half-hour that included “The Gates of Hell,” a mental “Mosis Ptosis” and an uproarious encore.