Mark Heimer of No-Fi Soul Rebellion is a predator. His eyes stalk the audience behind lens-less glasses, meticulously selecting his next unsuspecting victim. What will be his weapon of choice? A sweat soaked cheek? His groin? Perhaps he’ll just unleash the full furry of his near six foot self.

When No-Fi’s set began at the Comet, August 5th, a crowd greater than or equal to the one inside began forming outside the windows trying to catch a glimpse of the madness happening behind the glass. Not to be misleading- No-Fi isn’t a traveling freak show. There aren’t accordion-toting dwarves or flame performers hanging from the rafters. However, the thrill and intrigue of a circus are there. No-Fi is just a damn good live show.

In the often too-cool climate of Seattle’s music scene, No-Fi is a breath of fresh air. No-Fi is comprised of a Mark, his wife Andrea, and a guitar that doubles as an mp3 player. They make up in showmanship what they lack in band members. In the first three minutes, Mark was standing on the half-wall that separates the show-goers from the unsuspecting passers-by seated at the bar just trying to get a drink. But just being on the other half of the divider didn’t mean you were safe. Mark can smell the fear of new audience members. Don’t know the songs? Mark will come hold your forehead together with his and belt the chorus of what is to be your latest favorite song. Too afraid to dance? That’s Mark’s cue to bring his sweet moves to you. Or next to you. Or over you. Or on you.

Judging from the Comet’s response, we were willing if not totally prepared. Before launching into “Too Mean” from their Veritable Rainbow of Songs EP, Mark said, “I want you to raise your hand if you’re a jerk. Come on people, this is Seattle! Seattle if full of jerks!” I was surprised to see a couple people initially raise their hands, but beyond shocked when more than half the audience had their hands in the air when he called out Seattlelites for being jerky.

No-Fi tried to personify their belief that “playfulness and sincerity can co-exist!” Regardless of what happened in the last 40 minutes or maybe because of it- being told to own up to character flaws or having a stranger violate acceptable standards of personal space- we all walked away feeling good about ourselves, each other, and especially about the two people who guided this journey.

AAIEEEEE…the s-s-s-sun, it burns, it burns! We in Seattle aren’t used to that large orange globe in the sky actually radiating beams through windows into our punk rock clubs. That, combined with the smoking ban, could make for a wholesome July Sunday afternoon…except for the nerve of the Funhouse to destroy our self-control with 6 buck pitchers of PBR. It made me so happy I actually went next door and got a Big Mac, because I had to, because it was either that or pass out before sundown.

Needless to say, the S-S-S-Spectres didn’t seem to care whether it was night or day. Must be ‘cus they’re from Brooklyn. I blame the glare of daylight that it took me a few songs to notice that they were all connected by a giant rope, you know, the kind you climbed to the top of the gymnasium when you were a kid. Then another few songs ‘till I noticed the 12-string guitar. OK, a friend pointed these details out to me…again, the aforementioned happy hour fun beer-time.

Back to S-S-S-Spectres. The S-S-S-Six-Finger-Satellite s-s-s-spastic tempos made me reminiscent of Providence noise-art-rock, and that’s-s-s-s a good thing…if one more person tells me they really like Death Cab for Cutie, I think I’ll puke.  S-s-s-so there.

But I digress. The point is, you should go to the Funhouse when it’s sunny out, and feel good about it, and feel good about yourself, and enjoy liking the music you like to like, and not care if maybe you should be home trimming the dandelions. If you had, you wouldn’t have found out what kind of music a band makes when they’re tied together, now would you?

(Photos by Mindy Sisco)

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With songs like “Clean Luvvvs Dirty” and “Veinzzzzz” you’d think locals Teeth and Hair had a couple of sticky keys on their old word processor. That, or they failed kindergarten. But who cares about spelling? Not I, fair reader. These guys make music akin to exposed electrical wires on a bathroom floor. The vocals screeeeeeech and whine, while the guitars churn out algebraic battery acid on a bed of drum blasts and rolls.
Last Wednesday, these 3 fine Seattle lads made the SS Marie Antoinette crowd jitter around like a bunch of spastics after a Kool-aid bender. Their songs were short attention span anthems played at 11. The set clocked in at a little over a half an hour and they poured every last ounce of “sw-ood” (that’s sweat and blood) into their music. At the end of Teeth and Hair’s set at the SSMA, I felt as though I’d been through an aural example of shock therapy. I want more boys!
More information on the SS Marie Antionette is available @ SS Marie Antoinette Look for Teeth and Hair updates including upcoming performances @Teeth and Hair

“It’s been over a month since I’ve been on stage, and over a year since I’ve been on a stage by myself, so I’m trying to figure out how to be comfortable up here.”

So began the solo performance of Nathaniel Nevver at the Mars Bar this past Friday, June 24. Nate was performing songs of the Nevvers, the band he formerly fronted which has disbanded as of late. Armed with little more than an acoustic guitar and a ball of nerves, Nate appeared anxious to hear how the night’s events would unfold.

A stage once occupied with three other players on keys, drums and bass, were replaced with equipment for the upcoming band. Nate seemed aware of all this space and hesitant on how exactly to fill it. Other Nevvers members were in the audience, but for the first time in awhile, Nate had only himself to play energy against.

Due to personal reasons, the Nevvers bid farewell in May with no plans to reunite. However, the Mars Bar commitment was made and the Nevvers decided to honor it in an unexpected fashion.

It was a great departure from the original make-up of the songs known for their sonic layers. For the first time, a bold spotlight was placed on Nate’s vocals. New life was breathed into songs like “Belle” and “Burndown” in an acoustic mode. The Nevvers as a full band were always exciting, but if the emotion hasn’t been achieved before, these songs were heartbreaking and thrilling, and hopeful and poignant.

Upon exiting the stage, Nate was no more certain of what had just happened than when he was on it. “There were certain moments in certain songs where it felt like I was doing something right.” Nate couldn’t articulate one emotion, one reaction to summate the show. Adrenaline had colored the experience in such a way that rendered adjectives useless.

Nate’s performance was well received by the full Mars Bar crowd. In a space known for noise, a noticeable hush overcame the audience. For some, the sounds evoked sentimentality of hearing these songs the same ways years ago. Others loved what they heard but longed for the Nevvers again. Others were wrapped up in this guy on stage baring a little more of him than maybe he would have chosen to, had the set-up been different.

Nate doesn’t foresee any solo performances in the future, but is currently working on new material under the name One Million Teeth. OMT has the same playfulness and dynamics in the spirit of the Nevvers, but it a beast unto itself. OMT has yet to release a record, or even to form a solid lineup, but is already receiving airplay on KEXP.

For more information on One Million Teeth including new recordings and upcoming shows, please visit One Million Teeth.

Dick can kick! Dick can kick better than you and I ever will. Dick can even kick out his own butt, let alone your ass.

Even at the Skylark, which is one of those confused “should I be a bar or a rock club” venues and had a space full of tables and chairs instead of the ample standing space we’d rather have to heckle the band, Twink the Wonderkid still amply managed to fulfill our every rock ‘n roll desire.

Lead guy Dick doesn’t even need you to be there…he’d be happy by himself, hamming it up for his own bemusement. Lucky for us he’s got a killer rock band to back him up, leaving him room to keep a smirk on our faces for the whole set. The Swede will make you wish you had the foresight to learn to play guitar back before puberty, and except for the need to shave the bass players head to fulfill the bald triangle of power (tell him so when he throws you a pick), the beveridge rhythm section is a force to be reckoned with.

Someday I’ll befriend the band, then they’ll require that I come up on stage to sing the “yeah, I know” back-ups, and I’ll be the one pouring a drink on the snare during the drum solo, and…

But until then, I feel guilty for burning their new cd “White Sabbath” from a friend instead of buying it. With such unconventional yet familiar hits as “Every Child is a Miracle” and “Nikki Sixx 7 8 9 10”, you’re sure to be hooked after a few listens. I’ll make it up to them by seeing many more shows, and working on my teenage kicks.

Well, I walked into the fun house excited to see the a-frames and highly suspicious of the opening band. Coconut Coolouts. what kind of self respecting band would call itself the “coconut” anythings?

(photo by pdgibson)

They were mid set, delivering a version of “shout” – a song I never thought I would want to hear again. But suddenly it was…exciting! Who’d have guessed? The first thing that struck me was the banana playing bass. Then I recognized the lead singer and guitarist from their former lives in the charming snakes. I like the charming snakes. I like the album Ammunition a lot. It scratches a particular itch that needs scratching pretty often. They bored me to death when they played live, though. Somehow the dynamics were lost and the songs sounded very same-y and a minute or two too long. The snarky humor of lead-guy felt too insider-rock-bored.

But here were many of the same ingredients, but I was feeling giddy and wanting to jump around. Maybe it was the banana. Or the two standing drummers. What a great idea! The snarky quips were now just funny when delivered next to a banana. There was something joyful about those couple three songs I heard. Drummer number two said goodbye and ran out the back door as soon as they finished. A fine way to end.

I was eager for more when I saw they were on a bill a couple of weeks later at the crocodile. This time it was less of a surprise but just as pleasing. The crowd was full of Seattle rockacracy, and all were nodding their heads in appreciation. There were lots of covers (I think) of songs I’m not enough of a music geek to recognize, and they all sounded good. The two drummer thing is genius – both in terms of how it sounds and how it looks. All you tree-like indie rockers take note!