Anticrisis, NBH, Damelo, Robots Hate Cowboys, the Americas, Royal Crown & Kansas City Stars

So I was a bit skeptical about seeing a show inside the Senator’s lobby, but as I turned the corner and passed through the glass doors my apprehension melted away. The lobby’s large enough for a local draw and has great acoustics, so until the big room opens back up we’ll be rocking in the foyer.

Gathering my courage and regretting my lack of earplugs, I went inside to take the full brunt of Anticrisis’ aural assault. Heavy. I liked the mix of their two vocalists: Tiffany Thrash in her gothed-out, queen-of-the-night regalia had amazing stage presence made an interesting contrast to the burly Ryan Moss lurking in the shadows behind her, growling. Drummer Christian Lovgren went all-out with a full black spiky mask and killer beats. Unfortunately there were some tone problems; the bass wasn’t well defined, just a noteless sonic boom, and the guitarist needed to turn down the high mids. Corey Schroeder’s bass also dropped out after the breaks, leaving a noticeable gap. They should also know when to stop talking after their set, and telling the audience how much you suck right after finishing playing does little to leave a good lasting impression. Anticrisis could have benefited from a little more cohesion in their stage looks as well, but over all they have a good thing going.

I was enjoying NBH’s set, up until the power went out. With all the lights and sound apparently hooked up to the same circuit, the power died and stayed dead for way too long. NBH was playing good whiskey country, and I really liked the soulful vocals and drunken guitar meandering. They had potential, but songs need a drummer, and both the members needed tuners.

Damelo played a ferocious set with four-on-the-floor drums, distorted guitars and gliding bass lines. Musically, I heard a big Fugazi influence in the breakaway accents, octave riffing, and moving bass over static guitars. Their songs effortlessly moved from staggering complexity to grainy simplicity, rocking the whole way through. I liked their use of special effects, specifically the destruction of lights. "Fred is in cahoots with Satan — he’s making lights blow out," explained guitarist / singer Brian Brophy. Fred Telles’s drum breaks were dead on — it’s a shame he’s leaving Chico. Damelo’s sweeping emo riffs and elaborate rhythms are a sure bet for pure rock enjoyment.

Up next was Robots Hate Cowboys, a duo new to the Chico scene. The bassist / drummer combo created succinct instrumental music with outstanding use of diverse dynamics, beats and arpeggiated bass parts. The bassist had a great sense of flow and counterpoint, holding a thundering low note and outlining interesting chords above to create a lush sonic texture. Rhythmically the drums were right on, casually tossing in double-bass triples and ghost snare hits. She knew the potential of her instrument, and used it to its fullest. Often instrumental bands tend to fall in the trap where all of their songs sound similar. With Robots Hate Cowboys, this is not the case. Each song possessed its own voice, personality and feel, yet maintained perfect cohesion. And they rocked like you wouldn’t believe. If you’re interested in exciting, complex, intelligent music that adeptly harnesses the power of a hurricane, you need to see this band.

The Americas had rocking in their veins from the get go, but the volume was turned up to eleven. It doesn’t matter how good the music is; if your ears are bleeding, your enjoyment of the set will be limited. The Americas are very talented — great writers and players with songs expanding from pure power to primordial openness. The drumming was fantastic, the songs were complex in a non-artsy-fartsy way, with intricate guitar parts and fantastic dynamics, and the band had commanding presence. Even with these wonderful attributes I had to stand outside for half the set. Travis needs to turn his amp down next time; my head is still ringing.

Since Royal Crown took their time setting up, I made it over to Duffy’s (no favoritism in this paper…) for a quick drink, arriving back at the Senator just in time to hear the sweet sound of pop music. If boy / girl harmonies and perfect pop sensibilities send you to that special place, this is the band for you. Becky’s gorgeous voice coupled with the stress and strain of dominant chords and straightforward rock make up the luscious sound of Royal Crown.

Closing out the show was The Kansas City Stars. Admittedly, by this point I was about rocked-out, but KCS were able to shake me out of my lull with their bouncy bass walks and power pop-punk rawk. From a listen, I wouldn’t have been able to tell that they were missing a guitarist; the vocalist / guitarist covered lead / rhythm duties expertly. He also had that rough Ian Mackaye gravel-voice quality, which fit in with the overall sound precisely. With masterful stage presence and the shamelessness "rock out with your cock out" ethic, The Kansas City Stars have earned an honored place in my list of bad-ass quasi-local bands.

Even though this was the brainchild of guitarist Jason Cassidy, Cowboy did not play that evening due to time constraints. Cowboy should start booking themselves in the middle of the bill or cut down set times so they don’t get shafted at their own shows.

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