The Spin

Lost and found Thursday night’s two-hour season finale of LOST ended just a tad too late for us to catch Old Bear at Mercy Lounge. But we did have the pleasure of catching the latter half of Brentwood collective Kindercastle. The stage was crammed full with cellos, electric guitar, bass, electric piano, drums, acoustic guitar and a laptop, all of which the band used to crank out eclectically orchestrated pop with hints of electronica, disco and folk. It was an ambitious setup, but one that didn’t fail to deliver. Despite being one of the newest bands on the bill, Kindercastle seemed to garner the largest audience—still far from huge compared to the room’s potential capacity, but about what we’ve come to expect on your average week night. Up next, Happy Birthday Amy alternately galloped, pillaged and tiptoed through a set of theatrical, piano-driven bipolar pop. Singer-songwriter Amy Smith wails like a melodically gifted banshee while her fingers dance furiously across the keys, with an exceptional rhythm section bashing out an intricate and fierce foundation underneath. The already meager crowd had diminished to just a handful of folks by the time LaSalle came on to close out the evening. Singer-songwriter Robert LaSalle and his eponymous backing band play sophisticated, piano-heavy, adult alt-rock suitable for a day on the yacht, or just a quiet evening at home enjoying martinis with your special lady or gent. Occasionally LaSalle traded his keyboard for electric guitar for a few more upbeat numbers that did well at rocking all four of the folks left to hear them.

Foo fightin’

You’ve got to hand it to FooBar—for such a small venue, this little East Side dive sure knows how to cram a lot of rock into very little space. The Spin headed to Foo Friday night to check out Tigers Con Queso and Mean Tambourines, and were pleasantly surprised to find there was no cover. We arrived in the middle of Louisiana transplant Jacob Thomas’ set, and it was plain to see that, in addition to a beautiful Gibson hollow-body, this guy brought a little bit of the bayou with him. We weren’t familiar with Thomas, who typically plays with a backing band, but we were pretty impressed with his bluesy riffs and soulful, lovelorn crooning. Next up was perky lo-fi punk outfit Tigers Con Queso, who crammed their gear onto FooBar’s tiny stage the best they could. Singer and veritable man-about-town (and Scene contributor) Seth Graves was adorned in his trademark sombrero and homemade poncho as he guided the Tigers through a jittery, upbeat set that was something like what Beat Happening might sound like were Daniel Johnston their frontman. Their set even featured a novel cover of Blue Oyster Cult’s “Don’t Fear the Reaper” with—you guessed it—a healthy dose of cowbell. Mean Tambourines had a tough act to follow, but something about their demeanor told us they weren’t too daunted. The Tambourines performed their glitzy, four-on-the-floor pop-rock while bathed in the light of FooBar’s all-too-appropriate disco ball, and the crowd, though a bit deafened, responded with drunken approval. With their towering, tattooed bassist, a drummer who seemed utterly unaffected and a thrusting frontman who hit all the high notes, Mean Tambourines’ presence was almost bigger than the bar itself. We hung around to catch a song or two from the gruff rockabilly trio The Wooly Mamas, but the ringing in our ears told us it was time to call it a night.

Two to tangoUpon hearing that the Can You Duet? performers would be at the Edgehill Café last Friday, The Spin was a little confused. Maybe the show was taking a night off? In case you didn’t know, the series is a country music version of American Idol (and shares the same producers), and it’s normally filmed downtown at the Wildhorse, airing every Friday night on CMT. Add to the confusion that The Spin, in tight jeans and Western shirts, was painfully underdressed. The crowd was predominantly female—all twentysomethings dressed to the nines, sporting high-heeled stilettos and dresses that rivaled most we’ve seen on prom night. The crowd’s aesthetic was puzzling—who were these fans trying to impress? There were no cameras. As we soon found out, they weren’t fans—they were the performers. But where was People magazine’s 2003 sexiest man alive, host Rossi Morreale? Instead we got surrogate host/contestant Jared Johnson, with his button-down Oxford and gelled hair. Luckily, Johnson explained that the show actually finished recording about a month ago and a winner had already been chosen. But strangely, to TV-watching fans—and the top eight competitors performing that night, all of whom knew the winner among them, but were contractually sworn to silence until the June 13 reveal—Can You Duet? seemed far from over. With each set, it was becoming clearer that these artists were still strung out on the show, exchanging smiles and quips like it was the season finale. The sparsely populated, somewhat indifferent crowd of peers, middle-aged couples and coffee drinkers didn’t look like they were going to dial in a vote, though—which made the acts’ seasoned pro shtick all the more bizarre. Still, we witnessed seasoned guitar playing, songwriting and vocal abilities. Standout sets came from overall-wearing Rory Feek and Joey Martin, whose female-to-male vocal harmonies gave their songs balance and substance. Other stellar performances came from Ruth Collins of Wild Honey, who was sans her duet partner (ironic?). Collins’ skinny jeans and ballet flats reinforced her more original sounding pseudo-indie-country music hybrid. But talent aside, there is something cringe-worthy in that made-for-TV style of music—the lack of individuality made the songs seem mass-produced and unoriginal. By the end of the night, we still had no idea who the winner was, but our vote is on Collins, even if we never actually saw her duet.

How many hippies does it take to sneak into Bonnaroo? Tell us at thespin@nashvillescene.com.