Last Friday, The National mounted a showcase of local indie bands that was witnessed by far too few of Richmond’s concertgoers. Headlined by up-and-comers Vince Kane & the Incurables (whose debut I reviewed on Thursday), Friday’s nearly four-hour performance demonstrated the kind of color and charisma savvy listeners have come to expect from the River City’s underground music scene.
Last Friday, The National mounted a showcase of local indie bands that was witnessed by far too few of Richmond’s concertgoers. Headlined by up-and-comers Vince Kane & the Incurables (whose debut I reviewed on Thursday), Friday’s nearly four-hour performance demonstrated the kind of color and charisma savvy listeners have come to expect from the River City’s underground music scene. I attended The National’s last presentation of indie groups in October—featuring Groux, The Absent Center, and Vince Kane & the Incurables opening for Those Manic Seas–and this show undoubtedly eclipsed it in both energy and professionalism.
First on the stage around 7 o’clock was Red & the Romantics, a stripped-down country-folk outfit that was kind enough to put up a little name card so we wouldn’t forget who they were. (Thanks!) As a Charlottesville-based quartet armed with a resonator and accordion, they entertained with a pleasantly bouncy honky-tonk that had the early crowd attempting to line dance and two-step as best they could. Lead vocalist Erik “Red” Knierim (who is conspicuously without his magnificent beard on the band’s website) crooned like Johnny Cash without the smoker’s lungs, and brought one of the most endearing smiles I’ve ever seen to The National’s stage. However, while charming and intimately performed, it was quite evident that the enthusiasm of the audience was slowly waning by the end of their set. A smaller venue with the band at eye-level would have definitely suited them better–and, judging by their list of previous shows, clubs and open air seem to be their forte.
(I also must say that Red & the Romantics’ photographer was quite intrusive, standing right in front of the band on numerous occasions. He is not, as you might be wondering, their elusive fifth member. Though he may as well have been.)
Second up was Merrin Karas, the most delightful surprise of the evening. Female-fronted and gutsy, the RVA four-piece backed Christine Golden’s powerful vocals with the steady-chug of groovy and grungy guitars, provided by Golden and Joe Evans. Merrin Karas has the air of a hard rock group supported by the strength of its frontwoman, rather than a punk start-up relying on the tired gimmick of sexing up their female singer. Think less Shirley Manson and more Alison Mosshart and you’ll arrive at the sort of invigorating bellow and thrash that Merrin Karas brought on stage. While their recordings on SoundCloud struggle to capture the forward thrust and aggressive presence of their live show, Friday’s performance guaranteed that I’ll be eagerly awaiting their next Strange Matter billing.
Speaking with Christine Golden later, she revealed that the band began as a metal outfit, which perhaps explains their music’s harder edges. She seemed to be the most playful member of the group, though, especially when she lobbed out an “indie rock” joke mid-set: “Knock-knock.” “Who’s there?” “Who cares.” Nice.
Following Merrin Karas was The Audyssey, whose funky electronica soaked in dubstep thrilled the audience as much as it fatigued them. Proudly announcing on their website that “If Edgar Allan Poe were alive today, The Audyssey would undoubtedly be in heavy rotation on his iPod” (assuming Poe wouldn’t be a Zune guy, as its tragic failure would totally suit him), this penultimate group oozed confidence. At times, their whizzing, whirring drum-and-bass made me feel like I was in a grimy Berlin dance haus at 2 in the morning. It was a head-bobbingly good time–and really, any event where somebody plays a keytar with one-hundred-percent seriousness is a good time–but their textures were perhaps too thick and cacophonic to dance to. Even though their theatrics and aesthetics were as self-assured as the headliner, one can only be subjected to dubstep for so long.
I was most interested and engaged by The Audyssey’s music when the hackneyed toolkit of wub-dub was put aside in favor of more ethereal and wide open sonic spaces. Lead vocalist Natalie delivers wispy vocals close enough to Grimes for flattery, and their mohawk-topped drummer Garri pounded away at the skins like an un-obnoxious Travis Barker; I wanted to hear more of that! Nevertheless, The Audyssey could carve out a place for themselves in the city if they balance noise and rhythm better than they did that night. A solid performance, if longwinded.
Lastly, Vince Kane & the Incurables took the stage around 10 o’clock with the modesty of a band that has been confined to very small stages for too long. Kane made the best of the empty spaces between himself and his bandmates with latter-set gyrations akin to The Who’s classic self-destructive antics. Poised to impress and utterly locked-in with their self-named “baroque punk,” Vince Kane & the Incurables were explosive Friday. Frontman Kane’s wry banter with the crowd made their performance feel more alive and warm than their openers, and the melodic, balanced pace of their set was a welcome contrast to the improvisational feel of The Audyssey. The stoic bassist, Garreth Foard–who can be seen in a statuesque pose on the live video of “One Year Old Boy,” courtesy of the band’s website–was groovin’ like I’ve never seen him, and the band as a whole seemed to be sharing the same heightened pulse. When they returned to their instruments for an encore of the fiery “Awake,” the night was packed up and stowed away. Nothing could follow a performance that show-stopping, which featured Vince Kane not only writhing on the ground but stomping on his guitar like Kim Gordon. If they had sold out a smaller venue, they would have blown the roof off.
Of course, these are only four bands out of the many fantastic local groups both young and old bouncing around the city of Richmond. If you couldn’t make Friday’s indie showcase, keep an eye out for the next one at The National, or scan your local venues for any name you’ve never heard before. Who knows, you just might discover a hidden gem!
