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Home and away
Tiny Amps, the Exit, Headband, and UV Protection
BY SARAH TOMLINSON
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The nice thing about breaking in your new band before a crowd of friends is that you don’t have to act all nonchalant about screwing up. Tiny Amps, playing their fifth show ever at the Middle East upstairs last Wednesday (with North Carolina art-rockers the Nein and local indie-metal favorites Big Bear), let the seams show during their winsome set. "That was exactly how that song was supposed to go," singer/guitarist Jeff O'Neal quipped after ending a mid-show number with an amused grimace. He continued, "Are you guys as nervous as I am? I’m fucking terrified up here." But he and his cohort kept it together to play Pavement-flavored indie rock sliced through with tough, sinuous guitars. When their final outro fell flat, they backed up. "I did that wrong," said O’Neal. "Can I do it again?" Drummer Michael Hutcherson counted out a big, "1-2-3-4" and Tiny Amps unleashed an epic finish with abundant, thundering waves of guitar distortion and drums. The nice thing about bringing your up-and-coming band back to your former home town is that you receive a loud, enthusiastic response — even if you’re supporting an act whose fans don’t know what to make of you. When former Bostonians the Exit opened for French-Algerian musical instigator Rachid Taha at the Paradise last Thursday, their blistering, reggae-tinged punk overwhelmed Taha’s mostly middle-aged crowd, and some people retreated to the lounge. But that left more space for the initiated, and for the curious, some of whom became dance-crazed devotees. Bassist Jeff Darosa walked onto a darkened stage to sing "Soldier," from their sophomore album, Home for an Island; the lyrics about struggling to find meaning in wartime were particularly apt in the wake of that morning’s London bombings. The rest of the trio then assembled behind him for a blissed-out set of dub-warmed rock that included the inflamed shimmy of "Tell Me All Again" and the taut strut of "Back to the Rebels." The stoner-rock trio Headband attracted a small crowd to ZuZu later that night, but the audience was so vocal in its enthusiasm and good-natured ribbing that it became part of the entertainment. The band seemed in no rush to play, instead spinning indie and classic-rock records until midnight. Things were well on their way to sliding toward the outrageous as a woman rallied friends at the bar: "Don’t think of it as a shot; think of it as a good time." On the dance floor, two ladies limbo’d underneath each other. Amid the hilarity, the trio kept their trademark cool and traded instruments while playing lo-fi indie rock built on neat guitar riffs and arch harmonies unfolding lyrical gems like "I can’t afford to rock because I’m short on dough, my bandana bill has taken its toll." At Lovewhip’s CD release show Friday at the Milky Way, on the other hand, the mood on stage during UV Protection’s opening set was sophisticated and poised — at least, as sophisticated and poised as a quartet can be in matching dresses with black tailored hats that conjured Blade Runner. As UVPro’s two keyboardists spun out refined, operatic vocals over a loose, dancy beat, a dancer dappled in film projections completed a series of controlled, elegant motions. A web of white string criss-crossed the stage; at one point, the dancer was bathed in the Altamont scene from Gimme Shelter while the band sang, "Three days, three nights in the belly of a whale/Three days, three nights, and I’m living in hell." One audience member could be heard mimicking the eerie vocals after the song ended, as if in a cult-like trance. The impression was reinforced by the band’s signoff: "What will you do when we cannot protect you?" Sarah Tomlinson | stomlins@mindspring.com
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