Keep Tidy / Slam Dunk

Crace Mountain, August 12, 2011

Keep Tidy

As I arrived too late to see Babysitter/whatever else was playing, Keep Tidy was the first band I got to see. Their energy was so explosive and intense that I felt like I was experiencing a moment in time that could only be expressed as A Moment In Time. The drummer, a maniacal dervish, literally* bounced off the walls. The lead singer was a hyperkinetic marionette with strings manipulated by the rest of the band who erected a wall of sound that held her up while threatening to bring down the house. Even through such classic adversities as broken strings, ensuing tuning troubles, and volume that drowned out the vocals nearly completely (at least, where I was sitting), this band impressed me more than anything I've seen in some time. Not hearing the singing was a disappointment, but the frontwoman was so fun to watch it helped make up for it.

I needed to hear some vocals, and a listen to their free download (The Basement Mold Ep) gave me the goods. Singer Shmoo Ritchie's voice is saturated in some kind of effect that I really like, but might begin to feel overused if they keep it up. Or could just become their signature, what do I know? Several more listens in a row and then some more the next morning and on my breaks at work after that solidified this group's status as my New Favorite Band. Driving hardcore punk with heavy fast tight riffing, with lyrics and phrasing that demand attention and won't leave your head alone later. This shit sticks to the roof of your mouth.

*As I write this, there is a discussion on the CBC about how the widespread misuse of the word 'literally' to express a hyperbole that actually means the opposite of the word 'literally' is causing the powers that be to reconsider the actual definition of the word, which I presume would mean that the word would then become defined as its current definition as well as meaning the complete opposite and I would just like to point out that I am not now, nor would I EVER be, contributing to this ridiculous and, dare I say, heinous, linguistic movement. Clearly, however, I am not above the occasional serious run on sentence. Suffice to say, the drummer really was bouncing. Off the walls.

Slamdunk

I ran into my friend Wozzle during Keep Tidy and we were so happy to see each other that we began drinking like teenagers for some reason. So I was less than attentive while Slamdunk* played. I'll relate what I remember. Comprised of a caveman on guitar, an elf on sax, an amazon on bass, a drummer on drums, and a swarthy gypsy up front, they brought some soul to the hole. (no offense, Crace Mountain. Just reaching for a basketball metaphor . . . ) Seriously, though, this band was a tight unit comprised of standout individuals coming together with an irresistible, contagious energy that got people moving. Everyone in the group chimed in on vocals with everything they had. In their eclectic flavor I heard some ska influences, some punk, rock and roll, shades of Motown, a really minestrone of modern music. A really fun band that is great to dance to, and pretty much a party in a box.

* I originally misspelled 'Slamdunk' as 'Slamdink'. Just thought you'd like to know.