Red Cloud West
In their four years together, the members of Denver’s Red Cloud West have managed to release a few EPs, flip their borrowed tour van, play with a lot of other bands and – oh yeah – improve greatly. They were never bad, and their brand of ornery, distortion-infused country rawk has always inspired a devoted fan base.
But sometime in the past couple of years singer/guitarist Ross Etherton found the perfect stylistic balance between his clench-jawed verses and gritty, wailing choruses. His songs sometimes felt like cigarette-burned cowboy hats wrapped in ’70s sweatbands – dusty and countrified but with an unintentional wink.
Saturday’s set at Bender’s Tavern erased any notion of that. Despite the various members’ hardcore and indie backgrounds, the set was all fiery country-
rock and face-melting guitar work. Guitarist Jason Heller swung his instrument low to the ground on a loose shoulder strap, looking like he might launch himself into the audience at any moment. Powerhouse bassist Neil Keener and drummer Andrew Warner similarly poured themselves into their jobs, their interplay as fierce as it was natural.
Ghost Buffalo and American Princes helped kick-start the night’s wiry energy. Their loping, spooky country-rock and indie pop, respectively, made up for the absence of openers Blue Blooded Girls. Clearly, though, the audience responded most when Red Cloud West hit the stage, a line of fans in black sweat shirts pressing close during the first song. The spirit of “Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere”-
era Neil Young seemed to hang in the air during the standout “Dragonland,” smiling approvingly whenever a guitar string or vein seemed close to popping.|John Wenzel
Band of Horses
Touring almost incessantly behind their excellent Sub Pop album “Everything All the Time,” indie-twang act Band of Horses played a capacity Fox Theatre on Tuesday night, sounding a bit less polished than on its recordings. This is a good thing to some, as spontaneity often lacks in many by-the-numbers indie rockers. But the uneven buildup in songs like “Funeral,” including a handful of forced, ill-timed drum breaks, undercut the momentum.
Singer-guitarist Ben Bridwell looked strung out and tired, his guitar hanging heavily off his thin frame. His band has endured recent lineup changes and hardships, but he seemed especially defeated that night. His bearded bandmates also seemed to slump during the quieter moments, although that didn’t dampen the roar they produced. If audience members closed their eyes they easily could have imagined a jumping, twisting group onstage.
The band at first leaned on songs from “Everything All the Time,” including the mournful and melodic “Wicked Gil” and “The Great Salt Lake,” but eventually tossed in some tasty unreleased tracks. Despite the recurring vocal tics in Bridwell’s voice – think My Morning Jacket’s Jim James on codeine – the show never felt repetitive.
It helped that Bridwell switched between guitar and keyboard, his deliberate style working well for both. Let’s just hope that he doesn’t sink deeper into whatever was ailing him on Tuesday. His songs are too good to waste.|John Wenzel
