2005, Jul-Sep

Electric Six; The Crimea; Outrageous Cherry; Peelander-Z
@ Bowery Ballroom
New York, NY – September 30, 2005

The first time I saw Electric Six it was in Philadelphia’s little bitty Balcony, which couldn’t have held more than 30 people and the band was great fun. Now in a venue more fit for their sound, the Six rocked even harder and Dick Valentine grooved like the New York-livin’ boy he’s become (he’s got a new song in his arsenal, a song emphasizing the music connection between Detroit and New York…he knows the score). Electric Six is a band meant to be seen in a large hall on a weekend night and they proved it this night. Playing all the better tracks off “Senor Smoke”, and delivering all the goods from “Fire” (except Electric Demons in Love I think but I did get quite drunk), as Valentine still does his calisthenics, and insane-nerd looks and waving at people not there, it could not have been a more complete night. I particularly liked Dick’s strip down from nice suit to boxers to play “Jimmy Carter” (and the only time he’s playing an instrument) in the middle of “Improper Dancing”. But Dick’s (or Tyler Spencer’s, if you wanna get like that) strongest suit isn’t the antics or the ability to write stupid lyrics and get away with it. It’s his voice. He sounds as smooth, slick, and alive as he does on his records. A deep bass-y grumble that is polished and full of Satanic groove, it’s a voice unlike any other.
Electric Six doesn’t play here enough. But would it ever be enough?
Penultimate act The Crimea were a Coldplay-ish type deal that were inappropriate for the night and weren’t even that good. One song had good use of the harmonica, the rest was all blah.
Outrageous Cherry, fellow Detroiters of Electric Six, offered psychedelic 60’s pop, harking back to the Loving Spoonful and their ilk. Some of the songs misfired but some hit the mark, especially their Little Steven-played success “Pretty Girls Go Insane”. If Outrageous Cherry had a problem it’s that they were too nice, sandwiched in on a night of bombastic acts.
Which brings us to the band that started the night off. The ridiculous Peelander-Z. A gimmick to say the least, this Japanese trio (a quartet if you count the prop girl) dresses like Power Rangers out of Priscilla Queen of the Desert, and spend more time hamming it up for the crowd then playing actual music. Coming out to a Japanese disco-children’s theme song, you’d think this band would be perfect for the night. But when they do play, it is boring punk metal hardcore, with songs that barely have any lyrics. How bland was the music? When the band had random people from the crowd come up to play the instruments, I couldn’t tell the difference. After awhile of this madness, I decided to go downstairs to get a drink. When I came back, two of the band members were doing human bowling balls down the middle of the floor. I…uh…yeah.

The White Stripes; The Shins; M Ward
@ Keyspan Park
Brooklyn, NY - September 25, 2005

At the last minute, I got a seat ticket to the second egregiously big White Stripes show at Keyspan. But yet again Jack and Meg micromanaged and brought the stadium concert feel back to gig status. It may have well been a club for all the intimate love they effuse. No real surprises musically speaking, just more of the same ol' same ol' - that is, the jaw dropping, mind numbing, ass-kicking blues and blues-rock. And the experimental stuff, though in shorter supply on night 2, still worked. Jack taking Polaroid pictures and throwing them to the crowd was part of the new happy Jack. Though parts of old misanthropic Jack were quite fun (and recently appeared in combo with new happy Jack when that stage crasher appeared at the Berkley show), happy Jack relishes the live affair, the big crowd, the splendor of being a big time rockstar. Yet, at the same time, it's all done in that style of a regular guy, a real person. Good ol' Jackie White, whose been done here and gone. And ol' Meggie too.
The Shins still sucked...kind of.
M Ward, from what little I saw, offered a punk voice with hard country. Not bad.

The White Stripes; The Shins; Brendan Benson
@ Keyspan Park
Brooklyn, NY – September 24, 2005

Oh those White Stripes. Oh that pesky Jack White. His ability to let his music not be distracted by his antics (the good, the bad, and the curious), and his ability to not let his music be overshadowed by expectation and music snobbery from even his most devoted fans is something to behold. The new album, Get Behind Me Satan, is an exercise in study. As a fan willing to admit a band can screwed up, one can also be overzealous in decrying the latest effort. The truth is, it is hard to judge Get Behind Me Satan. Experimentation is not something to boo but it can also be too risky. Jack White certainly experiments but it is hard to tell if he’s going beyond his self-imposed boundaries. And it’s also hard to decide if that even matters. In the end, it is a good album, worth listening to and enjoying, but it is not the kind of album that should recruit new fans (which doesn’t really matter) or blow away longtime fans. It’s an album to go “hmmm” to. That all being said, there is no debate on the live show. None. It is an exercise in all-out rock n roll glory. Even when it’s the experimental stuff like “The Nurse” and its marimba nirvana, or the big piano smoothness of “My Doorbell” and “I’m Lonely But I Ain’t That Lonely Yet”, there is an air of rock n roll fun. And of course, when the Stripes dish out “Death Letter”, “Cannon”, “Screwdriver”, “Hello Operator” and “Let’s Shake Hands”, there is nothing to discern. It is the spirit and fervor of those old blues and blues-based tunes that still make a White Stripes show the best thing in the musical world.
Above all, “Ball & Biscuit” remains the single greatest live song performed by anyone anywhere. It is the ultimate blues orgy. It is the ultimate period. The cover of Tegan & Sara’s “Walking With A Ghost” was a more than pleasant surprise.

Jack’s ability to do pop is also disturbingly good, disturbing because it matches his blues and experimental abilities. If there is one thing a little frustrating with a Stripes show it is not with the music but with the hoopla around it. The theatricality of a Stripes concert (and it is a concert, and not a gig) is for the taste of Main Event status. The elaborate fake trees, the little idols on the amps, the number of instruments, the tropical jungle theme, the Zorro outfit the large audience full of mainstreamers…this is all a far cry from just walking onto a small club stage, plugging in the guitar, and wailing away. And maybe that’s what makes the presence of Meg White so important. With her simple drumming, her delicately bad-but-touching voice, her lack of bombast, and her understated manner, she is the tie that binds Jack to his roots…to the blues, to the garage, to Detroit. Beyond all the magic and mysticism of new, intrepid songs, there is Meg, drumming away, and letting all the basics stick around for one rockin’ good time. Put this all together, and it is still evident why the White Stripes are number 1.

One last thing: Last time I saw the band, it was in the chaotic drunken moshing frat crasher mess at Roseland. This time, it was a pot-filled, rather stiff affair. The lack of moshing, crowd surfing, and stage crashing was a welcome relief to fans like myself and to Jack for sure (remembering his tirade at Roseland), but this time it was almost too dull. Jack was visibly frustrated the other way…but in the end he was happy. And that’s what it is all about now, it’s about being happy. The White Stripes are just that.

Part of the reason the crowd may have been so dull lies with the Shins. Once again, the Stripes have a poor opening act in New York. The Shins are dull. Dull, dull, dull. Bad singing is fine when the songs are good and it fits. Here, the emo voice is lame. The songs are lame. The guys can certainly play, and they have a good attitude, but the songs are hollow. I don’t hate The Shins, and I don’t look down on anyone who likes them. But a White Stripes show? No. Brendan Benson has a few good numbers but the rest seem a bit sloppy (and not in that good Jack White way of being sloppy)…in pop, sloppiness is not good. The good songs though indicate potential. And when the Rancouters explode…that potential should manifest itself in decent songcraft.

The Greenhornes; The Black Hollies; Tigers & Monkeys
@ Maxwell’s
Hoboken, NJ – September 23, 2005

One of the more unlikely acts I have seen 4 times, the Greenhornes headline this nice, little intimate club show fresh off opening for the White Stripes around the world and in the States. The Greenhornes pounded away and smoothed through their songs. Drummer Patrick Keeler is particularly adept at his trade and when he, along with bassist Jack Lawrence, returns with Jack White and Brendan Benson in the Rancoteurs, it should be an amazing show (incidentally, White and Benson were on an off night of their tour and should have been around for some band practice). In a terrible moment, the crowd filed out before an encore, like a bunch of lame-o’s. Shameful. The Black Hollies were a mostly fun Jersey City band devoted to 60’s-ish garage rock and classic rock. Summoning the Yardbirds among other acts, the rather regular looking crew of dudes were fronted by a mod-looking bass player whose voice was so-so. More image than sound, the Black Hollies are suitable, but far from perfect. Tigers & Monkeys frankly stunk. Playing down-chord hard rock, with a boring, bad lead singer, this band was having a bad identity crisis. Are they punk? Are they garage? Are they downer rockers? Feh.

The Hard Lessons
@Lit Lounge
New York, NY – September 19, 2005

I unfortunately did not catch Detroit’s the Hard Lessons wrap up the night at Trash Bar two nights before and I certainly regret it. The phrase “rock their hearts out” doesn’t come close to explaining the enthusiasm and intensity emitted by this band. The band generally played fast and furious rock n roll, sometimes bordering on hardcore punk, but they also dished out blues and pop tunes (including an excellently well-crafted original called “Milk and Sugar”) as guitarist Auggie and keyboardist Ko Ko traded vocals that ranged from gritty fun to gorgeously on-key. Ko Ko can especially belt it out, reminding one of Janis Joplin. Auggie is an exceptional garage guitar maniac, and his playing antics (running into the crowd, playing on a bench, bending his back over while on his knees) only liven up the scene. All the while, drummer The Anvil pounds out a steady rhythmic beat that matches the ranges of the tunes (these 3 also have real names, check them out on the album). My worries of bands from Detroit drying up have officially been abated. Here we go again.

The Avatars
@Trash Bar
Brooklyn, NY – September 17, 2005

I have to admit the Detroit music…scene…has been getting a bit stale from an outsider’s perspective. There hasn’t been the constant flurry of bands to be discovered outside the city in over a year. One of the last bands to catch my eye were the Avatars, who had dynamite songs on their site…and were heavily pushed by Motorcityrocks.com. But they never toured outside their Ann Arbor-Detroit area circuit…until now. As part of the CMJ tour, this Get Hip Recordings/No Fun Records show in Williamsburg began with this quintet. I was expecting a good show…but I did not expect to be absolutely floored. The Avatars are utterly perfect. Ranking up there with Detroit’s best (and therefore the nation’s best and the world’s best)…the Avatars offer a mix of pop, punk, and garage rock (which are all music snob ways of saying they play Rock n Roll)…but what makes them stand out is their solid skill. While other bands revel in their sloppiness, including musically sharp and talented acts like the White Stripes and the Dirtbombs, the Avatars deliver on crisp, tight goodies (only the Paybacks really remind me of this band). It was stunning to listen to the synchronicity of this rock. But it isn’t polished! It isn’t slick! It is raw, loud, and hard. The Avatars perfectly combine tight, skilled melodic hooks with fierce, straight-outta-da-garage intensity. The guitar players remind rock n roll fans of Angus Young and Johnny Ramone (an awesome combination to be sure)…the bass is fun and noticeable…the drums are intense but controlled (which is an apt description of the whole band) and lead singer and tambourine shaker Mariah Cherem is a dynamic spitfire dishing out intoxicating vocals (on-key and everything). It will be too long before the Avatars come around the East Coast again…but when they do…you see this? I can’t finish the thought. That’s how good the Avatars are.

Gore Gore Girls; Fireball Ministry; The Black Halos; Crash Kelly
@ Continental
New York, NY – September 15, 2005

This is what the annual CMJ Marathon festival does. It slaps a 60’s garage retro throwback onto a night of another label’s set of bands…who have nothing in common with the headlining act. Granted, the musical and stylistic differences of these acts did make for an eclectic line-up, but all on a variation of metal. Metal. Nothing to do with the Gore Gore Girls for sure. The Gores (now armed with a Gore Gore Boy on bass) were much improved from their lackluster opening for the Cramps at Irving Plaza, which was when I saw them last. This much smaller club venue, the legendary Continental (think CBGB’s exactly, but with only half the commercialization inside), had the sound and appeal for the retro garage fun of Amy Gore and the gang. Amy’s leadership was more animated and fun and enthused from when they played Irving…considering they play clubs consistently, this was what I should have expected. As for the multi-metal acts, southern hard rockin’ Fireball Ministry was surprisingly good (as they were not as thrash as they looked – in fact, they weren’t thrash at all) but the “other kinds of music suck and is for pussies” rants got a little old after awhile. The Black Halos were actually more hardcore punk than anything else but the Crow-look is done (and the aging lead singer was essentially Dee Dee Ramone…some combo)…and Crash Kelly were an 80’s hair metal throwback….they weren’t the Darkness…nuff said.

Scott H. Biram; Alice Texas; The Swedes)
@ Mercury Lounge
New York, NY - September 12, 2005

There is no one like Scott H. (that's Hiram) Biram. He calls himself the Dirty Old One Man Band...but that only tells a small part of the story. Musically speaking, the unique and brash merging of styles of American music, as done by Mr. B, may be unparalleled. His two primary forms of music, live-wise, are the blues...and metal. The man sings old gospel spritiuals with a gruff voice that he frequently turns into something out of Pantera or Sepultura. In fact, his show ending tune was a thrash metal song plain and true - but still using his old blues guitars and little foot stomping device (no drum kit). I've never heard "Jesus" and "Amen" invoked with such positive Satanic fervor. He did occasionally throw bits of old timey country, including one whole honky tonk ballad, but he seems to save that more for his studio work. Biram's attitude and on-stage persona is deleciously camp but it also seems genuine. Hailing from the great city of Austin, Texas, Biram is plain-spoken, full of piss and vinegar, and probably just drunk. He is a child of all the great sounds of American music (put through a ringer crafted by Slayer), with a realism unmatched in the quality of his performance. What I like most about Scott H. Biram is his social relevance...he is a a bonafide hillbilly redneck...who loves the rock n roll culture directly from it's source: African-Americans. If this guy isn't a wonder for race relations in America, I don't know what is. The opening acts were dull: Alice Texas is a band that tries lingering, meandering alt rock set to the occasional big Texas guitar riff. Nice effort but a little lacking. The Swedes (not from Sweden for sure, but ironic since I was last at the Merc two nights before seing a bunch of acts from Sweden) were slow, trippy indie pop and completely out of place for the night. They weren't impressive either.

Sahara Hotnights; The Hong Kong; Marit Bergman
@ Mercury Lounge
New York, NY – September 10, 2005
*What a terrible, uninformed review. The Hong Kong are from New Orleans and New York, not Sweden.

The Nordics invade New York: A show full of Scandinavian acts (I believe all Swedish) and a crowd of full of Scandinavians as well (with notable exceptions Ric Ocasek of the Cars and James Iha of the old Smashing Pumpkins hanging around…look at me, I’m the Scenester Page guy now!) The thing about Scandinavian popular music…it tends to be extreme…either death metal terror groups or sugary pop so sweet your teeth falls out. The Hives ushered in a change of pace – balls-to-the-walls, Rolling Stones inspired rock n roll and punk (though even their first album was unrestrained noise). The Sahara Hotnights originally fell into the same punk field…but have since become an 80’s pop redux. Their live act is in some ways a by-the-basics pop delivery – predictable and soft. But they do it well…and they do belt their hearts out on more than occasion. It’s good clean fun. Penultimate act the Hong Kong have a cute name but are too droll. Another Swedish act with a blonde girl lead singer and an all-guy band, their songs have no punch. Too much disco/pop Blondie and Nena and Pat Benatar and Kim Carnes. The first act of the night that I caught, Marit Bergman, had me fooled. I was so used to seeing Bands, I forgot that there are still acts out there that go by the name of the lead singer – as in, she’s a solo artist. Marit is a solo artist with SEVEN band members (horns, tambourines, organs, two guitars). The music? Ska-pop. Think early No Doubt crossed with Reel Big Fish and their ilk. She’s got a great voice and a likeable personality…but it was a weird night of pop music rather than rock n roll. Change can be good though.


BBQ; The Demon’s Claws; Turpentine Brothers
@ Union Pool
Brooklyn, NY - September 2, 2005

I was looking forward immensely to seeing Mark Sultan aka BBQ for the very first time. Through a series of unfortunate goofs, I caught the last 3 minutes of a 10-minute set. So I am not even going to grade it - though the sliver I heard was raw and immaculate as I expected. Mark then drummed for the Demon’s Claws (though he was supposed to be the headliner) and with that, I wasn't too thrilled. But by that point, that may have been more of my cantankerous mood. Opening act, the Turpentine Brothers, who included drummer Tara from Mr. Airplane Man, were pretty darn solid. In fact, they were great organ-supplied garage rock (think Mondo Topless). Aw hell let's go with grades anyway.

Holly Golightly
@ Mercury Lounge
New York, NY - August 18, 2005
*Two shows in one night.

4th time seeing Miss G and the band and they were more fiesty and rockin' than ever. The songs had more punch than usual, and Holly played around with her voice, getting uncharacteristically loud and guttural. Smashing show.


The Violets
@CBGB's Lounge
New York, NY - August 18, 2005

Eveytime I see this band they are more solid than they were last time. My only contention is that they should not end their set on a ballad. They need to go out with a bang. Leave the crowd wanting more.

The Knitters; Phranc
@ Irving Plaza
New York, NY - August 11, 2005

To call this a rare treat is an understatement. Making only their second album in 20 years, and having been that long since they played Irving Plaza, the amalgam novelty (though calling them a novelty may be considered an insult so it is pre-emptively withdrawn) that is the Knitters came barn stormin' through the Big Apple in a dusty blaze of honky tonk rockabilly fun. Comprised of X's John Doe, Exene Cervenga, and DJ Bonebrake, the Blasters's Dave Alvin, and bassist Johnny Ray Bartel, this band of premiere talent showcased what made their respective bands so awe-inspiring: Punks with professional musicianship. Beginning with a trio of ballads by Doe and Alvin, the Knitters proved that you can start off a show with slow songs and still manage to pump life into the crowd. Exene's voice, which is a 50/50 affair on the 100% otherwise perfect X songs done live, is 100% immaculate for the Knitters. The slower tempo and lighter fare that the Knitters offer is what Exene needs to keep her voice in control (though bona fide should and do relish her wild vocals when X is performing). Of all the songs of note, X's "Burning House of Love", which is excellently composed but whose original recording was too 80's, is made totally perfect as done by the Knitters. DJ Bonebrake's stand-up drumming with tin can for a bass drum is the perfect touch along side Bartel's upright acoustic bass.
Opening act Phranc - self-described as your "typical American Jewish-Lesbian folk singer" wowed the crowd with funny, snappy numbers of leftist or comic appeal (or both as is the case with her love song to Condi Rice), or delicious covers such as Cash's "I've Been Everywhere". A perfect night of folk, country, and rock.

The Dirtbombs; The Flesh; Tralala
@ Knitting Factory
New York, NY – July 29, 2005
*The night from Hell.

It was supposed to be a culmination of rock n roll majesty. The Dirtbombs were breaking the record for most times I’ve seen a band live ever (five) and in a single year (four). It was the proof that this band laid claim to the title of Greatest Live Band Ever. But alas, things were not to be perfect…forces beyond our control overwhelmed the rock gods…and the night would go down as one of the infamous in Dirtbombs history. First the bad stuff, and first the most serious: Ko slashed her hand up after breaking her string in the first song. Troy, like Batman, carries her off. Coming back later, her bandages come undone, and again she’s taken off. What we thought was hammed up drama was serious business as Mick told me later that Ko had a panic attack. Mick initially told the crowd that they would only play 1 or 2 more because Ko was going to the hospital but the band kept going. But there was more disaster: something that could be foreseen in the minutes before the show began. Unlike all the other times I’ve seen the Dirtbombs, including the night before, the band could not set up their equipment like they were their own roadies…Mick especially. In 24 hours, it seemed, they had become superstars. The crowd cheered…and it was an especially manly, testosterone charged yell…and sure enough, when the good times started, a mosh pit broke out. A mosh pit…. yes the Dirtbombs are a fast hard rocking band but they are also primarily – and this is straight from the voice of Mick Collins – a dance band. There is no call or place for this type of violent behavior as a form of good time anywhere, but especially at this kind of show. A bunch of us in the crowd, who love to dance and rock out were suddenly the uptight ones, as we had to protect ourselves from these jackasses. And it just got worse and worse: a crowd surfer and one asshole jumping up on stage to put his arm around Mick during “Stop”, and later returning to pretend to play Ko’s bass (to Troy’s shocked look). No respect. And on top of all that…some girl holding a stone statue over my head to take pictures of it. (What the hell???) Yet on this night it was the power of rock n roll that held out…and unlike the White Stripes, where the battle with the Moshers and the Band Crashers (more figuratively than literally) was lost…on this night, the real fans won out. The Knitting Factory security deftly and with stealth removed the 6-10 moshers causing a ruckus. And when drummer Pat Patterson began the beat for Iggy Pop’s “Lust for Life”, the nervous but positive smiles on the faces of Mick and Troy soothed the crowd, and when Troy took the vocals (he was a hero multiple times this night), things started to fall into place, albeit with much shattered nerves. The dancers got their groove on as the band went through the set list…and when Troy took my request for “Encrypted”, the night was saved for sure. After the show, Mick was nice to the stage crashing asshole that got up on stage during the equipment clean up! But that’s Mick, not me. I asked Mick afterwards, if they ever dealt with moshers before and he said recently in Germany (I wonder if that should be surprising…just kidding). And so ended a night of high charged disaster and rescue. Nasty moshers but stronger dancers. Slashed hands and freaked fuzz masters but reliant, resilient musicians refusing to surrender to the “Hex” as Troy Gregory dubbed the night (after Mick broke his strap…did I not mention that happened too?)…It was the night from hell that somehow got to heaven anyway.
Oh yeah, there were opening acts…the Flesh who I hadn’t seen in quite a long time…and who were all funky and groovy and almost hiphoppish (normally not my bag, but I had reasons to enjoy it this night)…and Tralala…another gimmicky thing based in garage rock and pop. 4 sweet tarts singing in front of 3 musicians. Good music, excessive gimmick, and only 1 of the 3 really fit the visual mold (the one who didn’t look like a model).

The Dirtbombs; Knights of the New Crusade
@ Maxwell’s
Hoboken, NJ – July 28, 2005

It’s almost becoming like clockwork…a workhorse…a machine…but each time it is authentic, pounding, sincere, and above all, full of rock n roll. Nothing, no one, not a damn thing is better live than the Dirtbombs. Period. End of story. This night’s big feature was an epic ending jam of “Granny’s Little Chicken”, showcasing the talents of each member…and just when it seemed that drummer Ben Blackwell was ending the night in style, fuzz patriots Ko Melina and Troy Gregory returned to distort us into oblivion. The finale knocked any slight worry that the show was getting redundant (perish the thought) but the next night would prove to be infamous, almost with a sense of purposely eliminating any sense of reliability in the Dirtbombs live universe. Opening act The Knights of the Crusade, who I became familiar with due to a friendly guy in the crowd, were Middle-Ages dressed Californians who sang themes of Protestant Christianity to their West Coast mesh of surf rock, hardcore punk, and slight reggae. The gimmicky humor wore thin; especially with the detailed hateful rants that started to seem more earnest than sarcastic. It’s a mystery, keep it that way, and keep on your way boys.

Holly Golightly; The Woggles; The Insomniacs
@ Maxwell’s – Hoboken, NJ – July 15, 2005

Returning as always with Bruce Brand and a couple young pups, the lovely and talented miss Holly Golightly dishes out the blues in her jazzy and country-ish cabaret garage way. Intimate and subtle, the Golightly band conjures up something along John Lee Hooker meets Marlene Dietrich. The Cramps without the Goth, Atlanta’s Woggles are assuredly one of the most highly charged acts I have ever seen. Their own little legend, the Woggles show no signs of aging. While many a lead singer and/or guitar player can go crazy in the crowd, to see the singer, the guitarist, and the bassist all go out into the crowd and out of the room and come back…that’s something special. The Insomniacs – breaking the streak of good things from Jersey only starting with the letter S – are 60’s looking throwbacks and garage making monsters. A rocking set of tunes culminating in their hit “Switched On”. Good stuff.

The Caesars; The Sights; The Golden Republic
@ Southpaw
Brooklyn, NY – July 14, 2005

Behold the sleek black dressed smooth yet feisty garage of Sweden’s The Caesars. They remind me most of Del Shannon. But to be honest, there is not much else to say. It was solid fun but not exactly much to go on about. There is something gravitating about them but it’s hard to sell. Just go see them and enjoy. Another biased report from me on The Sights, as I helped out with roadie duties, received attention for my “It Came From Detroit” t-shirt, and once again got good and smashed with Eddie Baranek. Musically, the Sights were tighter this time. Opening act the Golden Republic, from Kansas City, was sensationally good live, sparking their pop songs with dance-rock hooks. They pounded away and yet sounded smooth as silk. Warning: Their album is nowhere near the same, simply dry indie-pop. Shame.

The Von Bondies; World Leader Pretend; Dan Dyer
@ Pier 54
New York, NY – July 7, 2005

The Von Bondies headlining free-show engagement in the Big Apple was exactly like their last time here. Good, if not great songs, with solid performing but missing that oomph that makes a rock band memorable. Debuting a litany of new material, Jason Stollsteimer and company seem poised to head down a path of pop riffs, rather than the raw garage that gave the band its legs. Drummer Don Blum’s singing debut wasn’t too shabby but the mic system was bad for everyone except Jason (who still has a great voice). And it must be said, just because: Marcie Bolan is so amazingly cute and pretty. World Leader Pretend work a mostly weak but sometimes engaging pop-rock band from New Orleans. Their persistent smiles and overzealous body movements accelerated the dork factor and sullied the band. Dan Dyer (or as he credits it, “The Dan Dyer Band”) is an Austin, Texas dude who mixes it up between Ryan Adams’ Rock N Roll record and r & B tinged pop. That’s right – alt-country rock meets modern soul. A great voice with an expert band, if just a little pedestrian, there is great potential for Dyer.