Japandroids, Nilsson Night, Cream, 8 off 8th and more

Jap-End-droids
It's unspoken protocol at The End: Show up late and expect to stay late. (Weekdays be damned!) But last Thursday, that rule apparently didn't apply to garage punk duo Japandroids, who trekked down from Vancouver and were unexpectedly (even to the band) given one of the opening slots. On the one hand, this made for a no-fuss show without having to wait out a couple unknowns, but it was pure luck that we didn't miss out on more when we sauntered in at the tail end of their first song. But no harm, no foul, because these guys fucking tore the joint up.

If their opener was some unknown track from one of the band's pre-Post-Nothing EPs—slated for a broader re-release later this year—the crowd got exactly what the $5 admission bought them when "The Boys Are Leaving Town" burst through the amps next. It almost didn't matter that half of the Japandroids' set consisted of early and virtually unheard material. When guitarist Brian King wailed his terse lyrics into the mic, scraping ear-bleeding riffs alongside David Prowse's nakedly aggressive drum rolls, their energy was outright contagious.

As many times as King scrambled for some punchy interlude or screamed mic-less over the distortion, with Prowse taking only a quick breath or swig of water between songs, it's a wonder these guys didn't make one noticeable slip-up. So as "Rockers East Vancouver" gave way to "Heart Sweats," and "Crazy/Forever" was capped off with "Sovereignty," the audience was just getting primed as they cleared the stage. Easing down from that power-chord-induced adrenaline rush into father-son duo Canta Natal—marking their very first and very shaky public appearance—felt more than a little awkward.

Despite constant petitions from King for the crowd to stick around, the rabble of bobbing heads had thinned out to but a few friends by the time Canta Natal had even performed a mic check. After a courteously brief set alternating between coffeehouse rock and Chicago blues, Sound&Shape's meticulously crafted sonics quickly blasted through the abnormal quiet that had settled over The End's scant patrons. Fusing '80s axe-grinding from frontman Ryan Caudle with the trio's prog-ish bend—with drummer Jerry Pentecost's flailing limbs and sporadic stick flips between cymbal splashes—the band hammered out one exhausting tune after another.

In the shadow of the Japandroids, though, it was hard to see these two bands as little more than a good try. For those few who did stay out the night, it's just too damn hard to keep from humming about those sunshine girls.

Spin Schpin
We are fans of cover songs, benefit shows and the Mercy Lounge, so the Me and My Arrow: A Tribute to Nilsson shindig Thursday night seemed like a killer way to kick off Fourth of July weekend. And speaking of America, it was a benefit show to help cover the medical bills of Oblio's Terry Price, who has been diagnosed with Bell's palsy. Sure, Americans may let artists and the workingman fall through the health care cracks, but at least we come together to help out our friends and get drunk in the meantime. USA!

Strolling in uncharacteristically early, we had little more to do than stand on the balcony and confide to our companions that we were woefully ignorant of the Nilsson catalog. Their heads shaking in synchronized shame, our friends informed The Spin that Oblio (the band) was named after Oblio (the character) from a 1971 cartoon musical enthusiastically titled The Point! with story and songs written by Harry Nilsson. We were also told that we probably knew at least five Nilsson songs. It sounded like a challenge. We happily accepted.

Though charmed by the trombone employed by James Wallace and the Naked Light, the digression to the narration from The Point! grated more than a little. However, "Are You Sleeping" was the first song we recognized and we managed to coast on that jaunty melody into The Features' set. They performed as we had never seen them before—sitting down with Matt Pelham gently twanging on a banjo. One of the three songs in their set was dedicated to Pelham's first love, Shelly Duval. Adorable.

Heypenny was up next, and they played another song we knew, "Coconut," which they played as if it had been filtered through a '90s teen movie. It was at this point we hazily realized that every song had been performed with the last 40 years of rock history seeping though. This suspicion was justified by a (nameless?) cobbled-together Nashville supergroup featuring Grimey, Jon Rogers, Marc Pisapia, The Raconteurs' Brendan Benson and My Morning Jacket's Carl Broemel, who pulled out "Without You" (3), which thankfully sounded nothing like the Mariah Carey version we are all-too-familiar with.

Eureka Gold played the Best Song, "One" (4), and also performed what seemed to be the only cover immune to reinterpretation: "Everybody's Talking" (5). It was just as gentle as one would expect, and performed in such a straightforward manner it was disarming. Pico vs Island Trees were next, and The Spin was elsewhere, but we did manage to catch the closing act from the hosts of the evening, Oblio. The night made us realize that the melodic flourishes and poppy digressions that we so love from local bands can come from a variety of influences—even if we thought we only knew that one song from that movie.