HUMP (Apache Cleo, DJ Whores, Jonathan Francis)
The Press Club – Wednesday, March 24, 2010
When I used to hear the word “hump,” two things would come to mind. The first was those annoying dogs you don’t know that always want to mount your leg even though they’re neutered. Annoying. The second was being 13 and getting hot and heavy with my girlfriend Molly’s jean skirt while she was still wearing it. Awkward. Now, thanks to DJ Whores, HUMP conjures up a much happier memory for me. His Wednesday night slot at the Press Club is an oasis in the middle of the workweek.
HUMP is a dance music night, for starters. It’s a night for the sweatmakers and the drinkers. DJ Jonathan Francis is towering over his laptop, face lit from the glow of his screen, and he’s busy selecting just the right tech-house and electro tracks. He likes variety, but tonight it’s funky bass lines cut with choppy vocal samples and noisy bridges with lots of cymbals. It’s hard not to move to this. The criticism is that it gets old after a while, but so does your grandma and you still love her. He throws on a Friendly Fires remix, and I’m sold.
DJ Whores steps up to the plate. It’s 11 p.m. and everybody is primed and ready for one of Sacramento’s best selectors. He opens up the sound, choosing big vocal house cuts with chewy bass lines and devastating kick drums. Whores’ track selection is like a binder full of hall of famers. You’re stoked on a Ted Williams and then he hits you with a Mickey Mantle. It’s tough to say that he’s “warming up” Apache Cleo, tonight’s headliners, because Sacramento shows up just to hear this guy spin on a regular basis. Tonight is no different and I hang on his every mix, watching his fader carefully, anticipating the change like a nervous prepubescent.
As per a typical Midtown crowd, the club starts filling up around 11:30 and all the nightowl regulars are starting to show their hoodie-shadowed faces. Whores is in full swing by now and the randoms attracted to the word “Club” on the marquis have filtered in, too. All the right players occupy the dance floor, and all the while the lights are spinning and the drinks are weighing in. The sub is rattling frames and feet are sashaying across the floor like cursors on a Ouija Board, their movements uncontrolled.
The stroke of midnight finds Apache Cleo poised and ready. The duo is an attractive, young couple, with cute matching his-and-her laptops, whose DJ merits are defined by their individual styles that sonically mesh. Usually they perform together, but due to issues with the airport on Cleo’s computer, they are unable to link up and will be performing separately. Apache makes his way up first, preparing for his intro cut. It’s a dark house break, dissident and not the friendliest dance floor groove. Cleo circles him, dancing behind him and snapping photos of his every move. She seems to lighten his mood a bit because the next track he mixes in is a funky, disco banger that changes the atmosphere entirely. This is his way of letting the dance floor know he still cares–but not for long. His next track is just as ominous as his opener. The rest of his set is equally as unpredictable, but still full of gems that separate him from the others. He finishes with a Blondie remix that seems to summon Cleo, who saunters to her laptop. Her opening track is a strange rock anthem that sounds as if Cookie Monster is the singer. Again, her set is scattered yet enjoyable, even though she seems to be suffering from some technical difficulties. By this point, a couple is damn near making babies on the dance floor as a Missy Elliot lyric rings out, “Doing it, and doing it, and doing it well.” That’s my cue. I’m all humped out.
Dusty Brown w/ DJ Whores
Sunday, Jan. 25, 2009
The Press Club, Sacramento
Do you ever wonder if the musicians you love really understand how talented they are? Music is a powerful thing that has the ability to move and change us; it can conjure the good or the evil that resides deep within our souls. If these musicians that we wonder about really knew the power they possessed, I’d like to think that they would always choose to use it for good.
Call me naïve, but when I witness a performance like that of Dusty Brown, Sacramento’s shining gene pool of electronica soundscapes, it fills me with feelings of hope and unrestricted love. Their latest Club Pow performance at The Press Club is a testament to their musical abilities.
Dusty Brown are veterans of the Sacramento music scene with a half-dozen Sammies under their belt as well as a Hall of Fame induction after winning the award too many times. I’ve been there for a good portion of that ride, so I’ve seen all the tricks and heard all the songs and own all the CDs. Normally, Jessica Brown’s vocals break my heart into a million tiny pieces that are then reassembled by Dusty’s intricate drum programming and ethereal Moog keyboard lines. I am swooned; and when I think I can sink no deeper into the melody that engulfs me, along comes Zac Brown, who patiently places his affected guitar riffs in all the right cracks and crevices that the song might allow. They have a power over the audience—hypnotizing each and every one of us with our bobbing heads and glazed eyes.
However, tonight will be a little different. Tonight, Jess Gowrie, the drummer from the now-defunct rock group Red Host, will be playing for a few songs and Dusty informs me that he will even hop on the bass for a track. Dusty Brown unplugged? Er”¦kinda.
Across the dance floor, DJ Whores is perched above the crowd, which he is sizing up methodically, waiting to drop the needle and send us all into motion. The Press Club’s stage sucks you in and makes you part of the performance whether you have the courage or not. It’s an intimate setting that feels comfortably snug rather than claustrophobic. DJ Whores’ distinct style of dance floor bangers is the product of hard work—the work of digging for just the right song. His electro selection introduces everyone’s ears to abrasive bass lines that move back and forth along the kick and snare. He prepares us.
Dusty Brown’s set begins with a few crowd favorites that have the girls feeling giddy; the hoodies that have assembled in the front are moving back and forth like Apache rain dancers. I see Jess appear to my left. She gazes at the stage that will soon be hers. Jessica Brown rewards my patience with a fuzzy comment into the microphone, saying something to the effect of, “I think it’s time for Jess.” The song begins without Gowrie as she approaches her low-seated Rocket Shell drum set—readying herself—then yields to her quickly climaxing drum build. She explodes into the chorus of the song and turns an electronica track into a heavy, Moog-flavored rock song. She can’t be denied now. Gowrie powers through two songs with the rest of the band that are crash- and snare-heavy. She finishes the songs and returns to the bar where she paces back and forth, breathing heavily and making no eye contact. I take a deep breath too, exhausted by the powers of good music.
Love Like Fire!, Red Host, Bright Light Fever
Monday, Feburary 11, 2008
The Press Club
Very few things in life put me in a better mood than cheap beer and quality live rock’n’roll. Monday night at Club Pow! (inside The Press Club) provided a plethora of both with Bright Light Fever, Red Host, and Love Like Fire set to rock the surprisingly large and lively crowd.
After a couple very tall PBRs I was delighted to see that the local rock quartet Bright Light Fever was up first. I have been fortunate enough to catch these guys a couple times in the past, but this was their most superior performance (that I have seen at least) to date. Those in attendance were surprised and excited to witness Bright Light Fever debut a couple tracks off their new record entitled Red Hands in Holy Water. Lead singer Evan Ferro proclaimed to the audience that they are entering the studio next week but he did not hint at any sort of time frame for the release of the record. My personal favorites were “Food for the Rats,” a groovy little number that got people shakin’ their stuff, and “Locust,” which rounded off their set very well indeed. These guys are talented musicians who have developed a sound that is their own and they deserve more attention. Keep an eye out for the new record; it surely will gain them some well-deserved praise.
After a swift set change Red Host was ready to perform. This local trio, consisting of Chelsea Wolfe, Ian Bone, and Jess Gowrie has an immense sound. The best way I can describe it is this: If PJ Harvey got knocked up by Joshua Homme of Queens of the Stone Age, and PJ left Josh to raise the child with Dave Grohl of Nirvana/Foo Fighters, that child would most definitely be Red Host. They are extremely solid and all very good-looking. If that doesn’t make you want to go see them, then I don’t know what will. Red Host will be heading out on tour in the very near future, so check out their dates and tell everyone you know in those towns that they are no longer your friends if they do not attend.
Clear drum kits seriously kick ass. I don’t know what it is about them, but every time I see a drummer playing a see-thru set, I just want to dance. Dave Farrell, drummer of San Francisco’s Love Like Fire plays one of these sets, and he definitely did his part in getting people moving around. Love Like Fire’s infectious sound sits somewhere between Arcade Fire and Yeah Yeah Yeahs, but has enough originality to keep it from getting old. They filled the room with incredible vibes and suddenly everyone had a huge smile on their face. I for one could not help but shake my ass and bob my head every time they dove into a new song. Lead singer Ann Yu’s voice is both emotive and enchanting. It has the tendency to make you forget your everyday worries and become lost in a sea of beautiful sounds. Love Like Fire stole the show, plain and simple. Their energy permeated throughout the crowd and left us wanting more.
You should get off your butt next Monday and go to a show at Club Pow! I promise you’ll have a blast. Bring your earplugs though; it’s fucking loud in that room.
