The Melvins
July 18th at Slim’s

Although they predate the brief moment in rock where Seattle was the center of the universe, the immortal fandom of Kurt Cobain, Beavis, and whoever went out and bought Houdini back in 1993, has ensured that the Melvins will always be associated with the grunge era. Between those connections, and the chugging, grinding sound of Buzz Osbourne’s guitar, I would have been surprised if a pit didn’t break out during their show at Slim’s on July 18th. Yet, I wondered if, after 25 years, there would be more to a Melvins show than heavy sounds and colliding bodies. I also wondered, surveying the younger members of the Slim’s crowd, if any among them aspired beyond head banging and body slamming.

While there was quite a lot of the expected, there was also a generous helping of the unexpected that made this show excellent. For example, I didn’t anticipate the show opening surprise of a little blonde girl (barely older than a toddler) drumming sporadically over some bizarre but interesting pedal play that emanated from a man’s guitar. Neither did I expect Big Business to play their set with such intensity and hunger. They barely came up for air. But, if your band is playing as the rhythm section of a famous headliner, it makes sense that you’d try and outplay them with your own material. And, to their credit, Big Business played so hard and so well that by the end of their set, I had an inkling that they might succeed in doing so.

That inkling was laid promptly to rest. The pit was already churning by the end of Big Business, but it exploded within a chord of the Melvins’ set. With Buzzo at the helm and Dale Crover and Big Business making steam, the Melvins powered through a more or less evenly split set of new and old material. Buzzo was iconic, a silver-crested warlock incanting over currents of swamp energy as the band crafted a darkly melodic, intricately percussive assault. While Big Business blitzed through their set, the Melvins built moments of tense expectation and explosive release with crests and troughs of tempo and volume. But even more impressive than Osbourne’s looming presence or the muscle of the Melvins’ sludgy sound were the nuanced covers that the band chose to perform.

One was a rendition of the “Star Spangled Banner” done in demonic a cappella. Where Hendrix’s Woodstock rendition of the national anthem reflected the violence of Vietnam, the Melvins’ version voiced the paranoid howl of a slumping superpower. As a blanket statement of social discontent, or a gleefully wicked gag, the Melvins’ cover of the national anthem was hard to top. But they did just that with a series of trudging chords that developed slowly into a menacing cover of the Who’s “My Generation.” The Melvins influenced grunge, saw it climb, then crumble, and are essentially the last band of that era still making original, relevant music. What better song to underscore their creative longevity?

By and large, rock belongs to the young. Even if they aren’t playing it, youth are the ones at the shows, drinking the cheapest beer (or, in my case, tequila), and getting pummeled by pit Vikings. The Melvins seem to know this, which is why they keep their connections to the young fresh. They previewed their new album, Nude With Boots, in its entirety on MySpace before its US release. They’ve incorporated Big Business, a younger, more virulent band, as a rhythm section. Even the little girl that kicked off the show smacked of significance. In a time where music is cheaper than water to all but those who make it, performers, ever established ones like the Melvins, are under pressure to forge a more perfect connection with their fanbase. And, through their live show especially, the Melvins are doing just that. One pit bruise at a time. – Andres Jauregui 

Watch: The Melvins [at youtube.com]

Wolf Parade
July 17th at the Fillmore Auditorium

Not too often does a band around these parts inspire anyone in the audience to remove articles of clothing, but it’s really exciting when it happens. Wolf Parade at the Fillmore got one female fan excited enough to ascend a dude’s shoulders and flail bare-chested before the band in an homage that seemed to recall times past when things were way more bawdy on the rock circuit. But, in what is truly an indication of how things have changed, shortly after she got down, the girl was booted from the venue. Sigh… such is the way of the Fillmore under Clear Channel’s almighty command.

Anyway, as is indicative of this nudity even happening in the first place, Wolf Parade played a rockin’ set on this Thursday night. Though their communication with the audience was somewhat minimal (maybe they didn’t have the most comfortable rapport with the crowd?), they played a long and tight show, with a sea of concert patrons all zoned into the Montreal quartet through the set’s duration, which lasted late into the night. With Spencer Krug and Dan Boeckner trading vocal duties and frontman control of their respective songs, it’s this band’s camaraderie with one another that keeps them so tight and focused. Their songs did not falter and the live execution of material that comprise two well-received releases was well done indeed, perhaps a little stiff at times, but that relative aloofness is part of their appeal. As they continue to refine and hone their collective craft, with solid releases and vigorous live shows, I know I’ll support Wolf Parade again, and again, and again… – Angela Zimmerman

Listen: Various Tracks [at myspace.com]