As many fished out
their bathing suits from
the back of their closets
and booked plane tickets
to exotic places, my spring
break consisted of fishing out
my air pump and biking to
Richmond’s exotic Jackson
Ward neighborhood to see a
show.
As with all house shows,
I received notification of the
event via Facebook.com and
word-of-mouth. Upon arrival,
it was clear there had been
adequate promotion for the
night’s affair. Bikes of all shapes
and sizes – a friend’s three-wheeled
mechanism was a definite standout
– were U-locked, chained or tethered to anything deemed
sufficient.
Inside, the environment seemed more like a large,
familiar get-together than a musical event-this is
what gives house shows their inherent uniqueness.
The setup in the spacious, yet delightfully Bohemian
two-story apartment proved to be an ideal venue.
Christened “Couch Heaven” by its inhabitants, one of
whom used to reside in “Full Slurpee” – a former host
for house shows – the residence contained a homemade
platform that hoisted a couch a few feet off the ground,
providing an enhanced viewing arrangement.
The exposed brick on a far wall of the house was
painted white, and projections of friends and scenes from
Richmond were displayed throughout the night.
The show’s start time was pushed back from its
original scheduled performance at 8 p.m., but as people
began to gravitate toward the performance area, the
Richmond-based first act, Gull, proved to be well
worth the wait.
Donning what appeared to be the bottom half of a
skeleton mask, Nathaniel Rappole, the sole member
of Gull, took his place at the front of the room. His
setup was minimal – a few amps, an electric guitar
and a small drum set – but his output was far from
diminutive. The performance began with Rappole
looping what sounded like electronic noise, and a
chant emitted from his mask, which appeared to also
serve as a microphone.
With the loop in the background, Rappole sat down
at the drum set and showed his musical prowess on
the instrument. The solo, which gave off an intense
energy, was a testament to his technical ability.
Although some drum solos I’ve heard seem to
meander with improvisational uncertainty, Gull’s
rhythms were concrete and deliberate, suggestive of a
well-planned journey through familiar territory.
Still reeling from having learned from a Couch Heaven
resident that Rappole’s main instrument is the guitar,
Gull’s unique sound took another unexpected turn.
For the next piece, Rappole took the idea of a oneman
band and made it cool. Sitting down with a guitar
in his left hand and a drumstick in his right, Rappole
performed the rest of his set with amazing adeptness.
To say I was impressed would be an understatement.
Gull’s one-handed guitar playing transcends the level
of “parlor trick,” and when it was all over, I was left
wondering what kind of act could possibly follow.
As one of the hosts made his rounds with the donation
pitcher, Ponytail, the band that had experienced
car trouble en route to the gig, began to set up. At
first sight, I had no idea what to expect. The quartet’s
lead singer’s diminutive stature, youthful-looking face
and voice to match make her easily mistakable for
someone much younger.
By the time the group, which hails from Baltimore,
Md., did their first sound check, Couch Heaven was
packed. There was standing room only in the living
room, and onlookers found perches on the stairs and
the arms of couches.
Instead of attempting to describe Ponytail’s sound,
it might be easier to delineate what it is not-their
sound is not screamo, and I would not put it in the
punk category.
Lead singer Molly Siegel’s voice, though frequently
indiscernible throughout the band’s set, is high-pitched
and edgy (think Karen O from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs
meets a 5-year-old).
Ponytail is, well, different. Each band member holds
his or her own, technically. The music itself is innovative
with an almost feral quality, but I think what sets
Ponytail apart is its performance ability. The driving
riffs and danceable rhythms make it virtually impossible
to listen to the band and keep your body still.
The crowd that night made this fact evident. Of
course, there was the obligatory (but scaled-down)
mosh pit, but – for the most part – head bobbing,
jumping and dancing prevailed.
It is during these moments that the true value of
a house show is apparent. At Couch Heaven, there is
no stage. Siegel stood inches from the crowd, often
taking part in the moshing herself. There was no
physical separation between artist and audience, and
that intimacy is what makes these venues unique.
More on Gull and Ponytail can be found on their
respective MySpace.com pages, but as for information
about upcoming house shows-my advice is to keep
your ear to the ground. You’d be surprised what can
be found.