North Vs. South Music Festival 7

Another, arguably more important guiding principle for N vs. S is friendship. As corny as that may sound in this irony-saturated age, the incestuous nature of the 55 bands on display, with members shared between at least two or three, acts, denotes the companionship that comes from shared vision. This is true of the audience as well - not only were the crowds made up largely of musicians (a common occurrence at the Hole in the Wall anyway), but it was filled up by various longtime friends and family members - sharp observers would notice the same faces we’ve seen for years at these acts’ shows.

Bringing these folks together for this festival was simply a love of music. At a mere $20 for three days of performances, the price was such a bargain the festival couldn’t possibly go into the black. The vast majority of the acts didn’t bother to push merchandise - indeed, the Pedaljets, one of the few who did bring CDs and T-shirts, were happy to give their goods away. Making money or raising profiles were not the driving forces behind what went on here - the North Vs. South Festival, and the bands participating, were united simply by the joy of playing rock & roll together. How much more pure can a motive be?

The first act up on Thursday was fest co-founder Baby Grant Johnson. Normally the leader of the Bitter Spills, the Minneapolis-based singer/guitarist put his raspy voice and superb fingerpicking skills to the service of a set of blues and country covers and his own originals. Strong tunes like “Take a Whiff on Me” and Lefty Frizzell’s “Saginaw, Michigan” resonated, no matter what the age of the audience, but the amazing sound of his open-tuned 12-string slide work dominated. Less crusty or theatrical than Austin troubadour Scott H. Biram, Johnson nonetheless traveled a similar dirt road, mixing Mississippi John Hurt, Hank Williams and Doc Watson as naturally as a bartender mixes an old-fashioned. While hampered a bit by his self-criticism at how long he took to retune between songs, Johnson’s set was a great way to start off a long night of music.

Next up was Austin’s own working class heroes/court jesters the Service Industry. The SI is one of those local acts that makes the incestuous nature of the River City scene clear, as the band consists of current and former members of the Wannabes, the Wayouts, the Rockland Eagles, Fire Marshals of Bethlehem, the Picket Line Coyotes, the American People and Cher U.K. The latter two were represented by festival driving force Mike McCoy, who traded vocals and lyrics with Julie Lowery like the Lee Hazelwood and Nancy Sinatra of Texas indie rock. While the band is well known for songs addressing class warfare and the issues of art versus the day job, they’ve expanded their concerns considerably, adding more social commentary and relationship grumbles. Loud, catchy tunes like “Calm Down,” “Phi Beta Kappa Queen” and “This Town Makes My Skin Crawl” use pithy lines to get the points across, but it’s the kind of humor that springs first from a grimace. It was a strong set that really set the bar for the rest of the night.

Back on the Foley stage, Austin was represented once again with Militant Babies, a muscular power trio. The band’s jagged postpunk came off as competent but uninspiring at first, but gained strength as the set progressed, with guitarist Geoff Lasch - way off the reservation of his former band the Golden Apples - providing most of the fireworks. The only response to that kind of pummeling is something more overtly tuneful, and Moonlight Towers definitely delivered on the Sahm stage. The Austin band’s rootsy power pop is so consistent it’s easy to take for granted - the quartet’s tight, well-crafted tunes hold few surprises, but never lack in quality, either. A new album is imminent.

Next up, the Scriveners represented Kansas City with snotty punk/pop. Tunes like “Catching Some Z’s” and “Playing Pinball With the Stars” betray the influence of the Dead Milkmen - not a bad thing, frankly - but the cleverness of the lyrics wasn’t enough to overcome the routine noise of the music. Kudos, however, to the musicians - except for the singer, the other guys were not regular band members, joined for this gig only, and they sounded surprisingly tight for an ad-hoc lineup.

Far better was the debut of another Austin act made up of scene veterans: Polite Society. Filled out by members of Stretford and the Golden Apples and fronted by singer/songwriter Steve McCarthy - normally the drummer in the Diamond Smugglers and the Wannabes, as well as a principal in the Fighting Brothers McCarthy - the name of the game was straightforward, no-bullshit melodic rock & roll. “Fly to Me,” “Take You Down” and “Too Beautiful” boasted sing-along hooks and plenty of firepower. Ending with an ass-kicking cover of the Kinks’ “Do It Again,” Polite Society established itself as a band to keep an ear on in this town.

After all the electricity in the air, it was time to get back to more wooden music with Deano and the Purvs. Sort of a Bloodshot Records supergroup, the Purvs consist of guitarist Bill Anderson and mandolinist Pete Stiles from the Meat Purveyors and a harmony singer, while Deano is Dean Schlabowske of the Waco Brothers. A showcase for Schlabowske songs like “Vacant Lot” and “Same Time, Same Channel,” the group moved from acoustic C&W to, with the addition of a rhythm section and Anderson switching from acoustic to Telecaster, boisterous country rock. Fans of the Bloodshot aesthetic would know what to expect, though the band played with a refreshing lack of the irony that slathers so much of the Chicago label’s output.

Following a set of barroom country rock was the closest thing the festival had to a jam band. Mr. Marco & His v7s hail from Kansas City and make the kind of music that grows out of virtuoso exploration, rather than down-to-earth songwriting. While the nimble jazz/funk bass of Johnny Hamil and the spaced-out, atmospheric guitar beds of Mr. Marco himself provided the backbone, the real star was electric mandolinist/steel guitarist Michael Stover, who carried most of the melodies with his unassuming musicianship. The quartet’s smooth mixture of folk, funk, worldbeat, skronk and metal - Hamil described one song as “what happens when Bad Brains and Iron Maiden make love in a Turkish hashbin” - came off like Friends of Dean Martinez with balls the size of sperm whales.

Nebraska’s Platte River Rain cancelled, so their place on the Foley stage was taken by Faster Horses, another Kansas City act that had played outside earlier on the Lar Lar stage. The quartet’s roots rock wasn’t bad, but suffered from a lack of imagination, despite writing a song based on “Patsy Cline x 2,” an imaginary tune from the novel High Fidelity. Even that song was forgotten once Leatherbag ascended the Sahm stage. Led by songwriter Randy Reynolds, the Austin band proved why it’s a fast rising favorite in the River City with a set concentrating on the rockers in its repertoire. A few tuning issues raised some bumps in the momentum, but every time the group tore through finely crafted numbers like “Here Comes Change,” “Senseless Irony” or “Forever Blue,” any awkwardness was forgotten.

Up next was yet another Austin supergroup: Why Not Satellite, fronted by Larry Seaman of Standing Waves (one of Austin’s first new wave bands), joined by Cindy Toth of the Reivers, Randy Franklin of the Wild Seeds and Terri Lord of Sincola and too many other bands to count. Yet more technical issues (not an uncommon occurrence at the Hole, sadly) killed the set’s momentum, but individually the band’s jangly pop rock songs were quite good. The music may have been new, but the veterans’ musical confidence made it as polished as anything more well established.

The night closed out with the Gay Sportscasters, another act stuffed with Austin vets and scenesters. Led by Hickoids frontman and Saustex label owner Jeff Smith and guitarist Three Dollar Bill, the Sportscasters - which also included Service Industry guitarist Alan Thomas, Moonlight Towers’ keyboard player and longtime scene drummer Rob Gaines - good-naturedly strutted and stumbled their way through a set of noisy, novelty-fueled country and garage rock. Originals like “Swap Meet” and “Me and My Wallet” (“inspired by the city of hate - Dallas, Texas”) bumped uglies with covers of the Standells’ “Dirty Water” (given Austincentric lyrics), Gary Glitter’s “Rock ‘n’ Roll Pt. II” and KC & the Sunshine Band’s “Get Down Tonight.” The music itself shared space with Smith and Bill’s ongoing comedy routine and the slinky gyrations of the Lollygaggers, a pair of go-go dancing cleavage queens. Want to know where the Sportscasters are coming from? Check out these lines from “Denim Friendly”: “Sweet Jesus shovin’ cooze/You know I was born to lose.” That says it all.

Friday night was more inconsistent in its pleasures, but still offered plenty of strong moments. We arrived to the sounds of Wood Roses, another project revolving around Mike McCoy. An Austin/Kansas City hybrid, featuring McCoy backed by members of the Scriveners, Mr. Marco’s v7 and the Wannabes, the Roses played stripped-down country rock. No frills, no flourishes, no hot licks - just the straight, unfancy presentation McCoy’s tunes demanded. Nice.

Back at the front window, the Tinys arrived on the Foley stage. Consisting of KC bassist Matt Cook, Gourds guitarist Charlie Bernard and Service Industry drummer/Hole in the Wall manager Travis Garrafa (who seemed to play with every other Austin band this weekend) and featuring special guest Michael Crow from Grand Champeen (who walked onstage in the middle of the set), the band essayed plainspoken power pop with some country seasoning. Unfortunately, the same virtues displayed by Wood Roses did the Tinys in - the lack of color only emphasized the weakness of the vocals and absence of energy. Only when Crow was allowed room to roam did the set pick up, and that wasn’t very often.

After that underwhelming experience, it was time to head to the Lar Lar stage on the patio for the Rusticators. This River City combo was another entry in the country rock diary - two guitars, bass, drums and twang. The band’s songs were solid but fairly generic, a fact underscored by more successful reworkings of Bob Dylan’s “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere” and Alejandro Escovedo’s “Pyramid of Tears.” Guitarist Kirke Mecham’s busy fills gave the performances more color than the tunes themselves. In addition, the band was hampered by a lousy mix, which lost the quartet’s vocals somewhere in the air around the stage. One suspects the Rusticators might be more effective in a more conducive sonic setting.

Far better was the next band to hit the Foley stage: Magnet School. A big, fat wad of jagged postpunk psychedelia, the Austin quartet sprayed guitar effects all over the front room of the Hole. Like a mating dance between Polvo and Swervedriver, the Schoolers really understand how to manipulate dynamics so it’s more than just abrupt shifts from light to heavy or soft to loud. Dissonance subtly gives way to melody as the intensity slowly builds. Sometimes the band just lets sweet and sour clash, like the contrast between the clanging Telecaster and lush Jazzmaster wielded by the two guitarists. The music stopped just short of overwhelming, never devolving into formless noise - there are actual songs buried under the nuclear shimmer, after all. Some of the momentum was lost whenever the band had to retune, but those were minor blips on an otherwise compelling sonic stream.

The other parts of the country finally asserted themselves when Kansas City’s Brannock Device took the Sahm stage. The foursome’s angular postpunk revolved around the dueling dichotomy of extremely skilled musicianship and fairly annoying vocals. It’s not that the singers lacked talent - quite the contrary, in the case of frontwoman Elaine McMilian. But this kind of blurted vocal style blessedly went out of fashion when the no wave movement hit its expiration date in the early 80s and wasn’t missed. Still, the playing was often extraordinary, and the band’s grasp of almost-but-not-quite-danceable rhythms was pretty impressive.

Back outside on the Lar Lar stage, Austin act the Perilous Tide brought the rawk & roll back in a big way. A bit too muscular to be called power pop, but too nimble and melodic for hard rock, the quartet confidently but not arrogantly occupied the guitar rock middle ground with tunes like “I Got Over You,” “THC” and “The Steal.” Four guys (including guitarist Geoff Lasch of Militant Babies and Polite Society) who don’t look like rock stars playing music this loud and powerful is always welcome. Just call what the Perilous Tide does rock - because it does.

Once the Tide was out, the stage was quickly taken by the Daylight Titans, another long-running Austin institution with deep roots in the scene courtesy drummer David Mider (Javelin Boot, the Fire Marshals of Bethlehem) and guitarist Tim Swingle (Doctor’s Mob). With a bit of jangle, some crunch, quite a bit of melody, the Titans are one of Austin’s many responses to the 80s Midwestern explosion, with just enough twang in their approach to make their state of origin obvious. Frontdude Andy Smith’s commanding baritone was a definite asset, cutting through the muddy sound and helping get sturdy songs like “C’mon C’mon Halfway Gone” and “The Ghost” across. Ending the set with the uncharacteristic but fun punk explosion of “Sharp Stick in the Eye,” the Titans blazed a familiar but still scenic trail.

Back inside on the Sahm stage, the Keep Aways held court. The Duluth trio was essentially a punk rock band, but with a metal edge. This came less from any inherent heaviness than from singer Mindy Johnson’s penchant for guttural screaming and her razor-edged guitar tone. The band likes to fold thrash metal dynamics into its arrangements, yet there’s enough melody and indie rock moan in Johnson’s stance to keep the band far away from DRI territory. It’s the little things that give the band’s punk pop its own distinctive sway.

Due to a shuffle in the lineup, Austin’s Corrina Corrina next took the Foley stage. Led by singer/songwriter Colin Swietek (and with Minneapolis/Austin gadfly Mike Nicolai in the lineup), the band played melodic folk rock that put emphasis on songs above all else. Tunes like “Black is the Color of Your Old Love’s Heart” were impressive, but the band allowed the late Doug Sahm to steal the show by performing a soulful version of “At the Crossroads” directly below the painting of Sahm that hangs above the stage. Still, the band had a lot of promise.

Manheat, another Duluth act, played next on the Sahm stage. With a little punk, some pop, some arena rock and occasional flashes of U2’s the Edge in the guitar work, the band was solid, but their songs weren’t very memorable. Nice cover of Public Image Ltd.’s “Public Image,” though. The Foley stage next hosted the quirky Austin act Dorito, a psychedelic jam band with two drummers whose kits took up the entire stage, leaving the guitarist and bassist to stand on the floor in front of the tables. Between the propulsion provided by the extra percussion and the tendency of the string-slingers to be flashy but not over the top, the set ended up being rocking instead of meandering.

The show took another 180 degree turn with the presence of Ratcatcher (formerly know as Bastard Saint). The Minnesota trio was an out-and-out metal band - no hiding behind punk imagery or indie rock irony. The big blond Viking fronting the band tended to yell and scream more than sing, but his guitar work was stellar and he displayed a sense of humor in tracks like the raging “Winter Wants Me Dead.” One of the few bands unconnected to the rest of the lineup by shared membership, Ratcatcher nonetheless held the attention of the meager crowd, especially once they launched into a metalized cover of Cheap Trick’s “Surrender,” inviting anyone who desired to join them on vocals.

Billy Joe Winghead finally took the Foley stage, to sighs of relief all around - the band’s trailer has unexpectedly detached itself from their van during their drive to Austin, necessitating a lineup rearrangement in order to give them time to repair and get back on the road. The Tulsa favorite was Oklahoma’s answer to satirical roots rockers Dash Rip Rock or the New Duncan Imperials, though punkier, noisier and just plain weirder. A BJW show means songs like “Branson On My Mind,” “Porno King” and “Rest Stop Romeo,” lyrics like “Jesus loves you but not that well/You’re going straight to hell” and Theremin swoops garnishing otherwise straightforward covers of Santo & Johnny’s “Sleepwalk” and Duke Ellington’s “Caravan.” Gritty guitar and vocal noises get shot through with flamboyantly played mistakes - all part of the act, folks. One of the most seriously fun shows of the festival.

The final artist of the night was Kansas City legend Season to Risk. The on again/off again quintet has knocked their furious artpunk around for nearly two decades, and their professionalism was evident in its vise grip-tight attack. But not being a full time band also meant that the performance was infused with the enthusiasm of people who do this for fun, not as a job - singer Steve Tulipana was as interested in making jokes and connecting with buddies as in growling his way through the group’s “hits.” S2R’s meld of Fugazi, Helmet, Jesus Lizard and Jawbox (with added synth bleets and washes) hit all the right (noisy, dissonant) notes, firing up an unfortunately sparse but enthusiastic crowd.

The final day of the fest, Saturday began early on the Foley stage with Minneapolis guitarist Al Grande. We confess to arriving late for his set, but we were able to catch his crunchy version of the Motels’ “Only the Lonely” (not a common cover choice), as well as one solid original tune and a closing cover of Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Little Town.” Grande’s voice was pretty flat, which puts the Isaak tune beyond him, but his guitar work was often stellar. If he’s not a first call session man in his hometown, he should be.

Grande was followed almost immediately by Kansas City quartet Miss America. The band’s rootsy power pop showed serious attention to craft, with well-written songs that went beyond three chords and three-part vocal harmonies that showed real ambition. There were a couple of clunkers, including the trendoid-baiting “Chillaxe,” and the group seems trapped in a midtempo groove, but tunes like “Your Condition” and “How Far We’ve Come” were too good to deny. Mr. Marco/Wood Roses steel guitarist/mandolinist Michael Stover guested, contributing swooping Theremin to a lovely cover of Electric Light Orchestra’s “Can’t Get You Out of My Head.”

Inside on the Sahm stage, the Fighting Brothers McCarthy also worked in a fairly traditional power pop idiom. Basically the Polite Society with Steve McCarthy’s brother Kevin as frontman, the McCarthys were unsurprisingly reminiscent of Kevin’s former band Wheel Local 404 - with Kevin’s built-for-pop voice fronting the same kind of instantly catchy, rocked-up melodies, how could it not be? The Austin band claimed to be under-rehearsed, but the energy and craft behind “Running in My Sleep,” “Cara” and “Only One You Know” belied that assertion. Power pop fanatics would need a cigarette after a set this good.

Back on the Foley stage, the Austin quintet Youngmond Grand was apparently undergoing a reunion gig. “I promise we’re not going to fight onstage,” the singer declared, an utterance that seemed to mean something to the substantial crowd. After an opening number in which the bass cut in and out - a definitely hindrance to music this rhythmic - the group settled into its pop rock rush. Vigorously strummed guitars, hyperactive drumming and emphatic synthesizer bleets pointed the Grand in the direction of the neo new wave, but Clint Myers’ raw emotion on tunes like “I Like to Break Guitars” put the band in its own space. Most interesting moment: substituting overlapping conversation for a conventional guitar or synth solo in “Crashing Down.”

A group that included Tinys bassist Matt Cook, Kansas City’s Hot Dog Skeletons took the Sahm stage next. The quartet’s classic rock-frosted roots rock was solid but indistinct - there was nothing that the Drive-By Truckers or Slobberbone hadn’t already done better. The Skeletons’ genericism was quickly forgotten in light of the arrival on the Foley stage of Austin’s Right or Happy. Essentially the Reivers plus a keyboard player, the band continued in the tradition of its former incarnation. The Reivers’ signatures were intact: the distinctive vocal blend of John Croslin and Kim Longacre, Croslin’s tasteful lead guitar, the exploration of the various shades of midtempo, adult guitar pop. But there was a subtle musical shift as well, with less of a folk subtext and more of a Beatlesque pop foundation. Sprightly rockers like “Confidence” and “Back at You” were balanced by pretty ballads (the providence of Longacre’s quavering but still gorgeous voice) like “Wait and See”, with only one Reivers song (fan favorite “Dragonflies”) added to the mix. The Reivers may be a nostalgia act, but Right or Happy has a bright future.

From one veteran act to another: the Sahm stage next played host to underground rock legend Grant Hart. Though still best known as the drummer/co-leader of the influential Hüsker Dü, Hart has a fine catalog of solo records and work with his band Nova Mob to his credit as well. Working with an impromptu rhythm section of drummer Travis Garrafa from the Service Industry and bassist Tony Zaccardi from Kruddler, Hart seemed loose and relaxed as he worked through selections from his new record Hot Wax (“You’re a Reflection of the Moon On the Water,” “California Zephyr”), catalog gems (“2541,” “The Main,” transformed into a country waltz) and Hüsker classics (“Never Talking to You Again,” “Diane”). The performances occasionally displayed the lack of rehearsal, with casual cues and some off-key notes, but the strength of the material, the spirit in the playing and Hart’s still powerful voice made quibbles irrelevant.

After a brief glimpse of Mike McCoy’s punk rock institution Cher U.K. (who unfortunately were performing at the same time as Hart), it was time for Grand Champeen, probably the purest distillation of mid-period Replacements - loud, tuneful and barely in control - in Austin. The quartet packed the room in front of the Foley stage with their usual energy-spewing set that somehow managed to be tight and loose at the same time. Pushing catchy pop/rock melodies to the edge until they explode, the Champeens delivered one of the most exciting sets of the festival.

Minnesota asserted itself once again on the Sahm stage in the form of power trio Kruddler. The St. Paul band’s mere appearance - a skinny middle-aged white guy with ridiculous pony tails wielding a Flying V and a chubby, dreadlocked African-American bassist - was striking enough, but they backed up the visual element with funny, catchy songs in tribute to Tom Cruise (“Cruisin’,”), Natalie from The Facts of Life (“Go Natalie”) and, of course, “Droids.” Other highlights were the sharp power pop of “About Her” and a rousing song “about going to a show and finding a band you like,” guest-starring Channing Lewis from Grand Champeen. One might wish the vocals were stronger, but the songs and playing crackled with cool fire.

Following Kruddler came one of our most anticipated acts: the Pedaljets. In the late 80s the Kansas City quartet put out a couple of excellent, though little known, records that fell under the Midwest ragged-but-right pop/rock banner pioneered by the Minneapolis bands, then disappeared. But the band has launched a comeback, and proved itself more than just a second-tier act with a fiery performance. Fronted by songwriter Mike Allmayer, who looks like Paul Simon’s long lost little brother, the band heartily bashed through classics “Dumbwaiter,” “Bulletins” and “Tiny World” to the delight of their KC homeboys and new fans alike. The addition of new tunes like “Terra Nova Baby” served notice that this wasn’t just a nostalgia show - the Pedaljets are a still vital band, and a great one at that. Special treat: a cover of the Undertones “Teenage Kicks,” sung by drummer Rob Morrow in his best Feargal Sharkey quaver, with Mike McCoy joining in.

Following that stellar set came another highly anticipated show. Austin’s Doctors’ Mob have played only one other show since its breakup in the late 80s, and while its members have remained musically active (singer Steve Collier with the Rite Flyers, bassist Tim Swingle with the Daylight Titans, drummer Glen Benavides with Buick MacKane, Don Lamb as a manager at Waterloo Records), few of their projects have inspired the devotion of their original combination. The band’s sound fits in the fest’s unspoken musical aesthetic well - fans of Grand Champeen, the Pedaljets, etc. likely felt right at home with the Mob’s punky power pop rush. But the band’s country and folk shadings - very subtle given their high-volume attack - set them apart. The substantial crowd was easily swept up in the memorable melodies and surging power of “Hangers On,” “It’s Up to You,” “Time’s Up” and “Why Should You Care Now?” The band members themselves seemed to be having a blast - hopefully this was more than just a one-off reunion and signaled a new beginning for a band that broke up too soon.

Next up on the Foley stage was one of the stranger detours of this year’s festival. The Austin-based Dung Beatles - the McCarthy Brothers, drummer David Mider and bassist Hunter Darby - have a very specific shtick: playing nearly note-perfect Beatles covers, pre-Sgt. Pepper’s, complete with the requisite suits, wigs and instrumentation. The only difference: the lyrics have been altered to revolve around the theme of feces. Thus “A Hard Day’s Night” becomes “A Hard Day’s Shite,” “From Me to You” transforms into “From Meat to Poo,” etc. There were a couple of truly clever bits, including “I Really Got a Load in Me,” derived the Fab Four’s take on the Miracles’ “You Really Got a Hold On Me,” and “Poor Ragin’ Wood,” a version of “Norwegian Wood” that went beyond the band’s obsession with poop. The musicianship was impeccable and the adaptation of some of Lennon’s famous quotes into the theme - “I never meant to compare a big shit to Jesus, what I meant was, ‘Jesus, what a big shit!’” - was pretty funny. But let’s face it: the joke gets old fast. Maybe that’s the point.

The final act of the festival was a cross-pollination of North and South, as Minneapolis-to-Austin and back (and forth) transplant Mike Nicolai joined Grand Champeen to form the Bremen Riot. Opening their set by transforming Doug Sahm’s “Sunday Sunny Mill Valley Groove Day” into a soulful anthem, the band otherwise tore through a set of punk/power pop/arena rock melodies. There was an odd contrast to the Champeen boys joyfully rocking out while Nicolai skewered the rock frontman moves that would normally follow such noises, but whatever layer of irony existed was disguised by the energy and tunefulness powering “Growing Down” or “Surveillance.” The band ended the set with a dichotomous one-two punch: another version of “Teenage Kicks” (with McCoy once again putting in an appearance) and a noisy devolution of Lou Reed’s “Waves of Fear” that ended with Nicolai rolling on the stage floor and the Champeeners abandoning the field one by one in a squall of feedback. Considering the rock & roll abandon that powered the North Vs. South Festival this year, how else could it end?