The Spin

Cereal pop

After enduring wet, wild and miserable weather conditions from dawn till dusk, it’s no wonder more folks weren’t willing to sacrifice the sanctity of their warm, dry dwellings to go out Thursday night. But there was a small troupe of us willing to get a little soggy on our way to the Exit/In to catch local retro power poppers The Nobility. If you recall a few months ago, The Nobility canceled a show at the venue due to singer/guitarist Sean Williams’ sudden illness, and the band scheduled this make-up date. Of course, the rain washed away a great deal of our own motivation, putting our arrival time at the tail end of former Imaginary Baseball League frontman Aaron Robinson’s set. We only heard the final few bars of Robinson’s subdued and sophisticated indie pop as we filtered into a room that held about enough people for a high school gym class. Following up was poppy songsmith Kyle Andrews, who, while traditionally represented on his records as a mix of electronica and folk-pop, was stomping through a succession of powerhouse pop jams with some vintage synth and a new wave touch. Andrews has a knack for writing some very singable tunes that were well-executed by a backup band that included American Bang’s Neil Mason on drums. The audience held steady in size, but grew in enthusiasm as the main attraction grew nearer. Just after offering to share his freshly opened box of Crunch ’n Munch with the crowd, Williams and his Nobility wasted no time launching into the brightly colored melodies and classic pop arrangements that made their near flawless LP The Mezzanine one of last year’s best releases. Backed by a pair of horn/flute players and The Comfies’ Ben Harper on bass, the band made it through each track on the album with little dillydally in between—except with one extended break where Williams was forced to halt the show and change a guitar string. The silence was padded by Harper, who employed his own charming frontman skills and passed the time with a few corny jokes—we couldn’t help but chuckle shamelessly.

A basement full of ringing ears

In February, Miami hosted the annual International Noise Conference, a three-day event showcasing 107 of the harshest and most out-there experimental acts from around the world. Bands or projects associated with Nashville comprised about 9.35 percent of the conference. (For the mathematically challenged, that’s about 10 acts.) Not shabby for a city not typically associated with envelope pushing. A monthlong INC-sponsored tour featuring conference creators The Laundry Room Squelchers began this month, with some of each city’s INC participants curating a date in their hometown. Static queen Leslie Keffer hand-picked the bill for the Nashville stop this Friday, but the actual lineup seemed to be in a constant state of flux. Fittingly, the show took place in a basement, since few venues in town would take a chance on a bunch of weird kids making a racket. We know we were late for a set by Kevin Cunningham, who apparently decided to forgo his typical moniker of Lazerslut. We did catch his interpretive dancing as orchestrated by the Murphy Brown Solo Show. Others were missed, but, unless you happened to catch the name of each project shouted as the performer started, you might have had a hard time figuring out who played. Each performer was slotted just a 15-minute set, which was great for our attention spans, but detrimental to our memory. High on Life, the one-man project of Bad Friend’s John Adams, delivered a standout performance—we probably never saw a guy singing along to a CD fall over so often. The typically solo Ark added a guitarist to color some bowel-rumbling bass frequencies. Unicorn Hard-On’s set gave us a good reason to show up early for her opening slot with Sonic Youth later this month. Someone performed in a closet with some flashing lights—we were told it was called Mouth Pet, and it sounded pretty good, but Mr. Natural was the most interesting to watch, playing a stringed instrument of his own design through a matrix of effects. The Squelchers closed and delivered the harshest set of the evening. A short blast of sound through a strobe light and then it was over. Something happened, but we’re not sure what—there was a lot of shit on the floor when the lights were turned back on.

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