Houses have fallen into an autumnal groove with their latest seasonal EP, “Fall.” Photo by Brian Carney.
At a time when it seems another great local band is saying goodbye every other week, it was refreshing on Saturday to enjoy three that are going one direction only — forward.
and red-hot (or, as I like to call them, Slim Cessna’s Little Brethren) gathered at the to help celebrate the release of the band’s third EP. If it seems like this collection of Grizzly Adams all-stars puts out a new one about every four months, itap because they do.
“Fall” is the third chapter in Houses’ ambitious, self-produced introduction to the world that’s being rolled out seasonally. (“Fall,” naturally, follows “Spring” and Summer.”) Collectively, they’ve helped establish a band that started the year having played only a handful of shows as one of our most ambitious, musically sophisticated and undeniably fun to watch.
They haven’t come out of nowhere. Andy Hamilton, wife Kinsey Hamilton, Mike Marchant (of Widowers), Stephen Brooks (Pawn Ticket Trio), Johnny Lundock (Blue Millions Miles), Eric Peterson (Old Radio) and Matthew Till (Hearts of Palm) have moonlighted or migrated from other well-known area bands.
At varying times, Houses channel any number of the greatest “fill in the blank” bands that ever played in the 1970s — Thin Lizzy. The Beach Boys. Boston. The Stones… You name it. Houses are descendants of those and other big, opus bands, the kind that constructed fully fleshed, guitar-driven compositions brought to greater life through harmonies, bongos and all manner of musical shaker what-nots.
They’re not afraid to sing naked love songs (“Be the Woman”), make you bang your head against the wall or record a seven-minute masterpieces like the new “Black Hawk.” How ’70s! And on stage, more than one of them can even pull off the horizontal-striped sweater look at once — and thatap gotta count for something.
Like Death Cab for Cutie, Houses play songs that make you smile and embrace you with a lush feeling of warmth. Itap only upon further reflection you might realize these songs, with lyrics like, “Everybody is always alone,” are often melancholy laments filled with of a kind of loss and loneliness thatap anachronistic to such a communal and genial family of musicians.
To not see Houses play live this past summer, you’d never believe such a hairy-looking band of bohemians could produce such bouncy good-time sounds (even more so than the “Summer EP” lets on). But if this ongoing seasonal-release project of theirs is meant to eventually be seen as some kind of singular, arcing concept album, then “Fall” will probably go down as the darker denouement, the moodier hours just before sunlight.
Houses eased-in its surprisingly large crowd on a blizzarding Saturday night with familiar and irresistibly upbeat tunes that preceded the four more patient tracks that make up “Fall,” a definite turn further into melodic and guitar-driven psychedelia. It’s still signature Houses — “Down to the River” is eerily CS&N-like — but overall this is more dour, more consequential and consequently more rewarding sonic terrain.
What makes Houses singular is how considerable their individual songs can evolve, with simple laments often building into lush orchestrations that would make any composer proud.
The night built to what Andy Hamilton called the first live playing of “Black Hawk,” from “Fall,” a guitar-heavy jam that spellbound a crowd that, when called upon, already seemed to have their vocal parts down cold.
“Fall” is here. “Winter” can’t be far behind.
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John Moore founded in 2001 and is now the paper’s theater critic. If you care about such things, check out his
is a Denver photographer and a regular contributor to Reverb.
