Special to The Herald-Sun
After having another week to digest (and recover from) Hopscotch, I look forward to having a more comprehensive recap of the loudest music festival my ears have ever had the pleasure of attending. For now, I offer a few superlatives.
Best objective praise: Rather than don Caltrop the weekend’s top local or metal act, I am going to make the much less refutable claim about these bluesy metal titans. The sheer force of the bass notes rocked so hard that, about thirty minutes in, the rim of my glasses snapped open and my right lens flew out.
Any metal band, especially one with this much intense yelling (mixed low enough to keep outsiders intrigued) and a rhythmic bent for organized chaos, sets out on a mission to melt faces and wreck the audience emotionally. While Providence’s The Body succeeded on both counts, only Caltrop left a mark. Despite playing a slower set than the math-metal fury I caught opening for Kylesa in May, Caltrop wins Hopscotch. And they owe me a new pair of glasses.
Best new venue: Fletcher Opera Hall may be a surprise pick for a rock festival, but this intimately gorgeous room hosted everything from Chatham’s electric guitar “composition” to Julianna Barwick’s orchestral, ethereal self-harmonizing. But when Swans put dozens of amps and percussionist Thor Harris’ entire playpen (clarinet, gong, violin, prehistoric instruments), the entire place shook with slow-moving fury that chilled everyone to the bone. As an added bonus, the formal atmosphere kept the fest’s unusually high amount of talkative, inconsiderate fans to a minimum. And when these fans tried bouncing an oversized balloon on stage during Des Ark’s set…
Best crowd control: Durham darlings Des Ark were known for impeccable stage banter long before frontwoman Aimée Argote moved to Philadelphia, and the North surely didn’t make her any less up-front. After blasting us with the tightest rendition of the loud half of “Don’t Rock The Boat…” I’ve heard, Argote pulled out her banjo and encouraged us to tell our neighbors to shut up or get out.
This all-vegan three piece was on a stage sponsored by a barbecue company, prompting Argote to unveil her band’s new slogan, “Surf The Vegan Gravy,” replete with an apology for thinking of such a dumb slogan. But the most captivating thing Argote had to say was the simple phrase, “This is a new song.” The currently instrumental rocker is centered on an attention-grabbing punchy riff that stands out even in Argote’s catalogue.
***
Holy Ghost Tent Revival (Tonight, Motorco) – Having lost my time-traveling hourglass, I wasn’t able to stop by many of the neo-folk sets celebrating North Carolina’s rich musical history at Hopscotch. But at least I won’t miss HGTR. Tightly wound Americana folk numbers get a jolt of electricity when this Greensboro ensemble gets on stage, jumping around with all the energy that seems to be sucked out of too many similar sounding bands who take themselves too seriously. Few bands can straight-up guarantee a fun time, and this is one of them.
Ty Segall (Sept. 24, Duke Coffeehouse) – This garage rock prodigy has been on a furious cross-country tour for most of this year, showing off his chops and one-of-a-kind flair that makes him the best musician to have a song called “Girlfriend” in the last few years. He’ll howl, get the crowd moving and then simmer down for a nostalgic trip with enough ability to single-handedly increase the revival movement.
The Butchies (Sept. 24, The Pinhook) – But if you’re tired of the dude-rock that dominated Hopscotch, maybe The Pinhook’s post-pride party is for you. Oh, and like this Durham-based queercore punk legend has been on hiatus since 2005 and only comes out of hiding once a year to play a local show. Kaia Wilson has an unmistakable voice that will shake you into submission when her band loosens up (see: Team Dresch) and then stop on a dime and write a folk-inspired ballad that will change a young fan’s life. Kaia has even encouraged fans to request songs on the show’s Facebook page.
Last album “Make Yr Life” was on the softer side, finding subtler ways to bring the previously punkier rock into pop-punk so catchy it feels guilty. Last time I checked in on openers Pink Flag, it seems like they were moving in the same very welcome direction.
J.J. Lang covers the music scenes in Durham and Chapel Hill.
