Next Big Nashville: Friday
- Photo: Eric England
- Meemaw Vs. Butterfly Boucher
Fuck Yeah!
City Hall Free your ass and your mind will follow—but if you can't handle both at this one-for-the-ages rump rocker at City Hall, just let your coccyx do the thinking. First up are the DJs of Funky Good Time, spinning rare deep-funk vinyl that vaporizes dust on contact; next are the real-deal Dynamites, with ageless human tornado Charles "Wigg" Walker fanning his neo-Famous Flames into red-hot full-band R&B. The man brave enough to follow them is returning local hero DJ Egon, formerly of 91 Rock and now curator of some of the decade's coolest soul reissues, both with his own Now-Again label and Peanut Butter Wolf's Stones Throw Records. Even if the party stops, your ass won't. 11:30 p.m. —J.R.
One-off
Space Capone at Mercy Lounge Late Friday night, when your ears are ringing and you're two beers away from a D.U.I., let the Calgon Bubble Bath of rock, Space Capone, help you take it down real slow and gentle. It's '70s AM gold, with feel-good hints of funk and soul (and even a little disco vibe). Girl, don't you know he's been working real hard, punchin' his card, just countin' down the days till the end of the week? Rock softly, or get your smoove on. 11:45 p.m. —T.M.
One-off
Cortney Tidwell at The Cannery Ballroom Not sure how Tidwell ended up on a bill with electro-candy like the Magic Wands, Paper Route and AutoVaughn: It would've saved us whiplash and gas money if she'd been at the Exit/In with Cake Bake Betty and JEFF. No matter—if there's anybody who deserves the words "next big" in close proximity, it's Nashville's own Little Sparrow, whose voice at full power has the force of Gabriel's trumpet (and whose songs meld the country-folk influences and post-punk noisescapes entwined in her roots). 8:45 p.m. —J.R.
Top-to-Bottom
The Basement Local singer-songwriter Sarah Siskind has received an unexpected boost, as current indie darling Bon Iver traverses the country covering her song "Lovin's for Fools" and proclaiming his "obsession" with the wistful tune. Here, she sits on a stacked bill, joined by sultry songstress Jennifer Niceley, Americana-tinged power pop experts Roman Candle, delicate folk pop proprietor Neva Geoffrey and shuffling quirk-popsters The Champion and His Burning Flame. Closing out the bill is Pink Spiders cast-offs Bob Ferarri and Jon Decious' new vintage country project Dixie Whiskey—a band that should close the night with a serious increase in volume. 8 p.m. —L.S.
Wild Card
Skybucket Records Showcase at The End While the festival's adherence to the principles of localdom have at times been flexible in the past, the roster on Skybucket Records, based in Birmingham, Ala., is good enough for us to want to adopt them as honorary Nashvillians. Duquette Johnston's quivering tenor echoes of Neil Young, while the Dexateens could be the black leather jacket version of Crazy Horse. The rest of the lineup is similarly rootsy—Through the Sparks give '60s psychedelia the indie rock treatment, while Vulture Whale and 13ghosts play guitar-centered rock that's alternately clever and boozy. This one's a good opportunity to catch some worthwhile bands you wouldn't necessarily see every other weekend. 8 p.m. —M.S.
The Main Event
Exit/In That lineup over at 12th & Porter seems really adult contemporary, doesn't it? Or at least singer-songwritery. It's mostly just people going by their names. What's that all about? Unless your first name is Shooter or your last name is also the name of a city, you should probably go by something else. Otherwise, where's the fun?
Infinity Cat's slogan is "come and like it now with us." And that's what they're all about—youthful, exuberant, questionably grammatical fun.
OK, so Reid & Wright go by their real names (their last ones), but can't you see—they were born to make noise together. "Read" and "write," get it? And they just so happen to be the most obtuse, left-field act in this year's festival, not to mention NBN's first real foray into local noise. They just so happen to be a pretty damn good band too.
The rest of the lineup is the type of stuff we tout all the time, mostly because it's some of the best stuff this city offers. Want some sorta creepy piano jams? Cake Bake Betty's got that covered. Crass ruminations from a dude wearing a poncho? Check. MEEMAW is what I called my grandmother, so that sounds more appealing than a Butterfly Butcher. Maybe if it was something like a Pterodactyl Butcher I'd be more impressed, but butchering butterflies doesn't seem all that hard.
And if I had to choose a particular set of siblings, I'd go with JEFF over this Joe guy who thinks I should care that Marc is his brother. 8:15 p.m. —M.S.
12th & Porter This choice comes down to feelings: Which kind are you having? Let's say you made a couple mistakes last night due to NBN first-night-jitters-related binge drinking—maybe bickered with your significant other, or perhaps bitched at your best friend. You're feeling sad, a smidge lonely and crave the opportunity to hear those emotions translated into sweet, melancholy pop melodies. This bill is the one for you.
With a headache and some heartache, you're not really sure you can handle being yelled at by a bearded man from Finland wearing a poncho. Youthful enthusiasm might just make you nauseous. But make no mistake, your time at 12th & Porter—featuring Nettwerk artists from across the country—won't be all moody singer-songwriter fare. With a pretty voice and an effectively flawed delivery, L.A. songstress Sara Melson brings a cool intelligence to her moody tunes (and has the indispensable Grey's Anatomy stamp of approval). The charming Ferraby Lionheart channels vintage folk pop in his rustic, rambling tunes. Bedroom electro-pop master Kyle Andrews alternates between delicate, tightly crafted ballads and crisp dancehall beats while Tyler James' piano-driven tunes are pretty enough to brighten even the darkest night. Aussie transplant Butterfly Boucher's crisply delivered songs are sprightly, smart and infectious, and Guster member Joe Pisapia's regrouped local project Joe, Marc's Brother bring a sly soulfulness to the proceedings.
In some ways, this battle represents the two sides on Nashville's excellent indie scene—the singer-songwriters vs. the bands—and the two just might have more in common than we'd like to admit. 8 p.m. —L.S.
Comments (0)