A few weeks ago, I wrote glowingly about a promoter who creates cohesive bills with a sonic throughline tailored to a single musical community. But some folks said that was dull. They preferred bills where bands span genres and where different tribes gather, cross-pollinate, and create new hybrids. They regaled me with stories of braggadocious hip-hop emcees, secretive noise artists, and sincere acoustic strummers all sharing the same night. I recoiled. The Rino's promoters don't often push to those extremes, but the venue is never shy about its intent to support small local acts regardless of fit. Goaded by your comments, I picked a show with one band I knew I'd like and rolled the dice on the rest.
The evening opened with Jamwich. The name was a warning shot. Soon I was tangled up in a half-hour set of sturdy rock 'n' roll played by a bar band. Slow burners dominated the middle of the set while a fair amount of soul was infused throughout. Bass player Jansen W. made stank faces, guitarist Miles Johnson added bending solos but few melodic leads, and drummer Nick Drummond marched the act through it all. But the band is mostly about frontwoman Katie B. – she has a big voice, seductive wiggles, and plenty of personality. Her banter was polished yet appropriately sized for the forty or so fans in the room. Well done there. Had the young audience come out for Jamwich? They sure hollered as if they had.
Stereosity followed quickly. The Orange County quartet was created by Jack Carone and Sam Krones – both of whom offered guitar and vocals – with Luke Leibee and Hunter Leibee providing the rhythm section of bass and drums. The focus here was on the guitarists who provided a variety of feels by combining mathy finger taps, twinkly finger-picked leads, and gently strummed chords played in non-standard tunings. The duo played off each other well, developing both textures and cascading notes that captivated. Behind the scenes, Luke Leibee's four and five-string basses set the table, and Hunter Leibee's drums never overplayed. Both Carone and Krones' vocals were quiet and delivered with the appropriately imperfect emo timbre. While the set included several unreleased songs slated for an upcoming album, Stereosity ended with fan-favorite "Cocaine Bear," delighting a swooning audience that swayed with adulation.
It was only 9:15 when The Warmups started. The Rino's varied bills make me nervous, but it does run a tight ship. This local trio is also emo – albeit a slightly different flavor. The band's sound is full and warm, and made busy with false harmonics and interesting drum patterns accentuated with crashing cymbals. Maybe it's indie rock as much as emo. Swinging dynamics, big crescendos, and double bass hinted that a screamo eruption could happen at any minute, but the group always favored restraint and focus over that subgenre's histrionics. Their energy level, however, remained high throughout. Each member (guitarist John Cerrone, bassist Michael White, & drummer Brandan Deister) provided lead vocals at some point in the evening. The resulting variation was welcome. The threesome played for a half hour, delivering a seven-song set that included several new tunes. And although it was all new to me, it was easy to appreciate The Warmups, having come for a band that was effectively a stylistic kissing cousin.
But I sensed that others may not have needed that cohesion. I saw the room cheering and dancing from the first band to the last, unbothered by the type of passion the vocalist offered or the bass framework the band employed. If the revelers had also only come for one act, I couldn't discern which one it may have been. Similarly, I watched as performers doubled as audience members when they were offstage. Perhaps there was some camaraderie and cross-pollination after all. I know I didn’t roll a natural this time, but the dice are still in my hand. If I shoot again, will I make the point, or will it come up craps?
