Slim Cessna’s Auto Club is the kind of rawk show where the traditional fist pump is replaced by the hallelujah high-five. Cessna, who 12 years ago said his only goal was to one day sell out the Lion’s Lair, returned for two shows last week that were so elbow tight, Jesus and Satan would’ve had to be on the guest list to get inside.
The Lair, a 100-seat shoe box (with more like 18 bar stools) was the first nook or cranny to give the Auto Club a gig back in 1993, and it inspired one of its most endearing hits, “Last Song About Satan,” which, of course, was anything but.
The band just announced it will again play two shows Dec. 30-31 at the Bluebird, but there’s nothing like seeing these lions at the Lair. Cessna, Jay Munly and Co. sang all the hits, and “Hold My Head” not only turned everyone in the room into lead singers, it sent the lanky Cessna bodysurfing so close to the ceiling, his stomach got tile burn.
Cessna left Denver with beer on the floor, the devil over his shoulder and a lens from his glasses somewhere on East Colfax.
-John Moore
Red Cloud West
Four songs before Red Cloud West destroyed the stage through its finale of “Cut Out Their Tongues” from the new EP “Dragonland” at the Larimer Lounge last Friday, an otherworldly encounter stopped the crowd dead in its drinks.
Three parts of the band ceded the stage to lead singer Ross Etherton, who played “Electrician,” about his late grandfather. He dedicated the song to his younger brother, who stood offstage right, but there were at least three family members in attendance, if only in spirit.
Etherton may as well have been standing face-to-face with his grandfather as he began singing about a man who still haunts him. And with the weight of previous generations on his shoulders, Etherton, whose head normally scrapes the ceiling at the Larimer, became so exposed and vulnerable he shrank to child size.
It seemed as if that song was the most painful thing Etherton had ever attempted on a stage. He couldn’t get through a single line, let alone a verse, without weeping. He kept looking straight up, jutting his neck out, as if to drain the tears back into his eyes. Eventually, the lines were delivered and the chords played as Etherton waded through the pain, expelled his emotions and finished perfectly off-key.
Somebody buy that guy a beer. And get one for his grandpa too.
-Nick Groke
Wolf Parade/Dante DeCaro
Dante DeCaro’s opening set at the Hi-Dive shouldn’t have sounded as good as it did. A former guitarist for Canadian indie rockers Hot Hot Heat, DeCaro didn’t do anything especially galvanizing during his Sept. 13 appearance. Punctuating his acoustic, Dylan-esque folk with well-placed blasts of harmonica, he hewed perilously close to a tedious, white-boy-blues aesthetic.
But when members of Wolf Parade (drummer Arlen Thompson and keyboardist Hadji Bakara) employed thick steel chains, chimes and sundry percussion to augment DeCaro’s songs, they turned into attention-grabbing melodic beasts plodding about the tiny stage.
Despite a muddied soundboard mix, a 28-hour drive from Montreal and a stage crammed with instruments, Wolf Parade (with DeCaro on bass) delivered the goods for its headlining set. Lead singers Dan Boeckner and Spencer Krug assertively traded vocals on songs from their forthcoming Sub Pop album debut.
The punchy “You Are a Runner and I Am My Father’s Son” had the crowd nodding appreciatively in unison, while tracks like “Disco Sheets” fomented a bit of honest dancing. Piercing keyboards and succinct drumming made it nearly impossible not to join in.
-John Wenzel
