the Rum Diary, the Dropscience & the Autumn Era

The show at Moxie's last Thursday proved to be a fruitful night, both in screamo content and my chance to bury the hatchet with a foe from back in the Bay. But that's a different story.
Chico's own The Autumn Era kicked off the festivities. I'm of the mentality that pretty much all bands with five members suck. I'm also of the belief that keyboards haven't been used well enough to merit their presence in rock since The Dickies did "Give it Back." I was relieved by The Autumn Era's sparse use of the instrument (the keyboardist spent most of the time dancing) and found myself thoroughly engaged in the music through much of their impeccable set. With moody, brooding interludes followed by periods of I'm-really-upset-and-I-don't-know-what-to-do gut-wrenching screams, the group ended on a jarring, staccato note that felt just right. And it definitely breathed some fresh air into the flinchy, unmoving crowd to see a band put their whole body into a set for a change.
Next up were San Diego's The Dropscience, some decidedly un-rock looking guys who provided good proportions of rock to electronic noodling. Having heard of their origins and the concept of their sets (looped samples, industrial noise, etc.), I expected something along the lines of The Locust or The Crimson Curse. However, I was pleasantly surprised by the cathartic Fugazi-like buildup rock being cranked out of the singer's clear Greg Ginn guitar. They employed some nifty time signature changes and some very subtle but effective looped sounds. It provided the music with an underlying tension that commanded your attention without ever feeling indulgent. Check these guys out before you're paying $30 for their EP on eBay.
The Rum Diary got props from me for naming themselves after Hunter S. Thompson's obscure first novel, and they only impressed me further last Thursday. Armed with a Moog, an empty Sapporo can fashioned into a shaker, and two (two!) drum kits, they were both industrious and adept at creating moving, atmospheric music. They set up the stage like a vintage Warhol happening, replete with red Christmas lights and a projector that played snippets of Moby-Dick and footage of space travel that was oddly fitting.
"I think we scared off all the hardcore kids," their singer only half-joked. By this time, the crowd was thinning out. Their loss. The set of distinct, epic, understated indie rock unfurled with a lengthy instrumental that was a good portent of things to come. Only occasionally would they throw distortion into the mix, which was a pleasant change of pace. The culmination of the show consisted of a double-bass closer in which everybody in the band was swapping instruments with a fluidity that was truly impressive. It was a moving set for those few lucky enough to have been in attendance, and one that left me wondering if I'd ever heard rock music that was so gentle.
- Raphael di Donato
- Photos By Matt Beier

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