Dum Dum Girls, Crocodiles
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Blue Lamp – Sacramento

Words & Photo Vincent Girimonte

Dum Dum Girls maestro Dee Dee stands tall over an attentive Blue Lamp crowd eager for the “buzz show of the summer” last Tuesday, hammering away on distortion and crooning about whatever people were crooning about in 1960s Western Europe–in the movies, that is.

Niche doesn’t begin to describe this band’s appeal; the Sub Pop girls in frayed lace, leggings, and sporting beautifully chopped bangs have that production-line mannequin sound that reeks of art-school irony, but continues to resonate nonetheless.

One can’t help but wonder what shape Dum Dum Girls, who headlined Brian McKenna’s bill after local act Chelsea Wolfe and San Diego’s Crocodiles, would have taken if Dee Dee’s original bedroom project were to explore something other than the four hot-chick dynamic, and whether it would have proven more interesting.

Last Tuesday’s Blue Lamp incarnation was scintillating for its lustiness–legs, thighs, lipstick; they all nailed it–and Sandra Vu beat on drums like some steamy Amazonian coxswain. The sound, however, while pulling heavily from ‘60s pop, also seemed to play on our current infatuation with the washed-out and feminine. Lines were sometimes blurred with Vivian Girls and former HoZac Record mates The Girls at Dawn–regardless of who was there first (and despite their leggings), Dum Dum Girls is drawing from a familiar well.

This gripe doesn’t necessarily speak to Dee Dee’s (aka Kristin Gundred) ability, however. She blew a few big notes in a sort of Pat Benatar homage, shimmying just a little to the rhythm with a menacing scowl. Her vocals meshed nicely atop the pervasive lo-fi guitars with bassist Bambi and fellow guitarist Jules, both statuesque in the literal sense, playing foils to Dee Dee’s subtle charm. In short, there was nothing wrong with the snappy set, but nothing terribly distinguishing about it either.

I Will Be, Dum Dum Girls’ 2010 release, was co-produced by Richard Gottehrer, a pop veteran who wrote such classics as “My Boyfriend’s Back” and “I Want Candy.” An old-school catchiness permeates through I Will Be, re-imagining and alluding to a time when crisp numbers reigned with Wall of Sound production. Not everyone was buying it at the Blue Lamp, though, or maybe we’ve just become tired of it for the second time around.

Patrons spilled out of the venue on Alhambra and N for fresh air between sets–Blue Lamp regulars claim it as Sacramento’s muggiest venue, which of course is amplified by June-coming-on-July heat. Ordinarily, such a spot deems tight leather jackets a nuisance not worth the classic motif, but strutting and strapped in to his Italian diaper was Crocodiles singer Brandon Welchez, quite committed to the whole “I’m fucking awesome” thing, propped up by the fact that he sounded pretty fucking awesome. New single “Sleep Forever” is a soaring hip-thruster, and tracks from their decidedly average 2009 Summer of Hate album seemed well suited for all 10 cubic feet (roughly) of the Blue Lamp. And even if you weren’t buying it, with the Crocs or the Dum Dums, you had to admit: they were selling it pretty hard.

Vivian Girls, Abe Vigoda, Agent Ribbons, Dog Party

Luigi’s Fun Garden “¢ Friday, April 24, 2009

By Blake Gillespie | Photos by Samantha Saturday

From the deck of Luigi’s Slices & Fun Garden, you could see over the security fence into the Wyclef concert on K St., but inside of the Fun Garden housed the most entertaining performances of the night. Besides, who wants to hear “Ready or Not” without Lauryn Hill? Yes, Pras can stay home.

The wall-to-wall capacity audience in the Fun Garden made it difficult to see the opening band, Dog Party. Granted, Dog Party is comprised of two Sacramento native 12- and 10-year-old sisters, so even working through the bodies to a closer position might not grant visibility.

It is about hearing Dog Party that matters most. Gwendolyn and Lucy Giles are too adorable and punk to be true. I am tempted to assume either they have a rad music teacher or even radder parents pushing good music on a future generation. Dog Party opened with covers of TV on the Radio’s “Young Liars” and followed it with Credence Clearwater Revival’s “Have You Ever Seen Rain?” Surprisingly, it flowed well. Even better, the girls presented a few original songs; mostly simple three cord post-punk about how it blows going back to school. Dog Party gets the nod of approval for sticking around the remainder of the night. There’s nothing more punk than staying out after the streetlights come on.

Agent Ribbons continues to prove they’re meant for attention larger than the Sacramento art galleries. In fact, it’s time Sacramento embrace the Ribbons girls as indie darlings poised for national notoriety before we lose them to some hip coastal city that will value their potential. Agent Ribbons is a delightful balance of blues and baroque—like hearing a set of songs inspired by The Velvet Underground’s “After Hours.” For every gentle nursery rhyme about the birds and the bees, there’s a naughty pun about the “sticky and sweet” side of love. Agent Ribbons tested out a new song, timid in presenting a song not yet mastered, but it played out without a kink. The ladies have the look, a treasure trove of songs, and a seasoned patience to draw the audience in for a shredding coda.

After a brilliant showing by local talent, it was time for the touring acts to seize the evening. Los Angeles’s Abe Vigoda got the gallery buzzing with its massive math dance sound. It’s always impressive to hear a band turn blistering finger chords into body moving rhythms. But, it’s bothersome to feel like it’s time to sway a little, only to be interrupted by a-rhythmic progressions. I gave up my inclinations to nod or move to Abe Vigoda simply because it required too much attention. In giving up, I heard chatter of appreciation in the Garden, so perhaps it was just me. It should also be noted that Abe Vigoda felt unwelcome amongst a bill of girl bands—as though the boys just had to break up babysitters club.

Vivian Girls can try their darnedest to not be dreamy, but even in their ambivalence, the ladies maintain an alternative sexiness. It’s in the reverb and harmonized vocals, but it’s mostly the bangs. Our mothers screamed uncontrollably for Beatles bowl cuts. Now their sons quietly long for the Brooklynite girls with tattoos and bangs.

Vivian Girls betrayed my reception of their self-titled debut. Live the Vivian Girls traded in the spiritless performance of songs like “I Believe in Nothing” for an untapped energy that was easily trapped within the Garden’s tight walls. The set felt like it was over before it even started, but it was tough to demand more from a band, barely 2 years old, with a 22-minute debut and limited B-sides.