the iMPS & Cosmos Group

Hype. I have lived in Chico for almost two years, and the entire time, I've been hearing about The iMPS. Needless to say, I wasn't exactly sure that they could live up to all that I had heard about them, granted they have been playing music together (in assorted lineups) for more than ten years, but let's get real. Do you always believe what you hear? Needing to find out, I went to the show and entered the packed, hot venue of Dufffy's Tavern, sat back and watched.
First on the stage was Portland's own Cosmos Group, who sound like they put a few cups of jazz, a few cups of punk and a pinch of rock into a blender and stirred it up. The blaring guitar gave the audience a slap, letting them know that Portland didn't breed no pop group. Trying to be as different from the norm as possible with their avant-garde jazz-pop, the Cosmos Group let their individuality roar from the boisterous monitors. (Note to self: Remember ear plugs, next time.) There were more than just curious patrons and people waiting for The iMPS at the show; Cosmos Group guitarist Dewey Mahood used to live in Chico, and had a contingency of friends to support the band. The Cosmos Group also includes Johnny Schier on drums and Jude Weber on bass.
One of Mahood's signature skills is the way he plays his guitar. I've read about this, but never seen it live. He puts a screwdriver under the strings on the fretboard and plays the guitar with a spoon. The noise was interesting, far from some guy on stage, just playing the guitar. It sounds mystical, spacey and somewhat Eastern-influenced, but loud. Very, very loud. Mahood also enjoyed finishing up the songs with feedback, which seemed to be an important element of the music. The songs were strong and unpolished, which is part of the sound of the band.
The songs were broken up with noise interludes of Mahood's guitar work and each member of the trio was doing his own thing. Their songs were written to build slowly, getting more intense and then, at the zenith of the song is an explosion of noise crafted to exhibit the band's philosophy, with the guitar and bass working together, and the drummer doing his own thing, but at the same time holding his ground. Mahood walked off the stage saying, "Turn on the jukebox, I don't think they want us to play anymore."
Then, I got excited. Finally, The iMPS took the stage, welcomed the crowd (i.e., friends and curious onlookers) and began to play. Singing and on guitar was John McCall, on bass was Erik Morton and on drums was Jim Rizzuto. Alright, I'll cut to the chase: they totally lived up to their hype. They were a good sounding band, they mix country vocals with the bass played with the speed on an electric guitar, and the long, slow vocals are reminiscent of what good, solid rock used to be. Searching for a comparison (as a service, of course, to you, the reader), I eventually decided they sound like Weezer, without the ultra-goofy lyrics or music that John Cusack would have liked in the movie, High Fidelity. What really set the iMPS apart, though (besides the reverse capitalization of their name) was that the audience (not just the girlfriends and roommates) knew all of the words. I felt like I was at a show at the Fi.lmore or Warfield, rather than a Chico bar.
A sign of a great band, to me, is that their jams don't drag or get boring, and The iMPS scored there. Their eclectic musical background allowed them to move easily from country to punk to pop to rock without confusing the listener. Jim was so caught up in the songs, he busted a hole in his drum. And, the formula is down: their show is designed for the audience, and their songs have been crafted and perfected with each show, which is few and far between.
And then, my favorite part. Instead of playing their usual, Rocky Raccoon, which would have been an experience, they broke out into Rocket Man - yes, Elton John was felt in Duffy's Saturday night. It was a version that demonstrated their musical prowess, with John altering and metamorphosing his voice to fit the speed and skill of Erik, while Jim pounded and slapped those drums, like nobody's business.

- Laney Erokan
- Photos by D.C. Ramirez

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