Blowout
The Blowout Handbook
Four fab days, a couple hundred bands and shooting stars, previewed!
Published: March 2, 2011
Wednesday, March 2
Blowout pre-Party at the Magic Stick, 4120 Woodward Ave., Detroit; 313- 833-9700
1:15 a.m. Secret Twins: Because this two-piece is inked to the Mitten's premier indie (Quack!) says lots. And some ST songs are on hit parade here at MT headquarters; the speedy riff-cranks of "Lazy Cheetah" outdo Kelley Deal, and the tender "Places" reveals a depth that runs far, far deeper than so much faceless "indie rock" of late. Lovely African-American singer-songwriter Dina Bankole is a total original, uncalculated — there's absolutely no one on earth like her: She loves Georgia O'Keefe and Etta James and can manhandle a guitar (a Flying V that she sometimes finger-picks!) better than most white boys; she even sports an Orange half-stack, a Vox amp (such taste!) and a strangely octave-leaping voice that soothes bones and rattles eyelids. Can't forget percussionist Tim Thomas, he's the duo's veritable backbone, an otherwise star overshadowed. Soon to be giant.
11:45 p.m. Lettercamp: Doe-eyed, raven-headed singer Liz Wittman is the personification of adorable pinup; she's equally vamp and reserved, like some naughty nun, and there's real sexual tension (remember when music had that?) for both boys and girls. She's got some inner torch singer too, one who'd occasionally slink behind a backlit screen, go-go dancer style. The trio's live keyboardist and guitarist — and accompanying electronic bass and drums — create a sing-song scamp like some updated Giorgio Moroder; hooks and drone-y melody abound, minus the bad West Hollywood gay disco and convertible Mercedes. And kudos to Five Three Dial Tone Records for close-watched farsightedness. Verdict: "You Won't Want Me," in all of its danceable melancholy, should be a massive hit somewhere, even if only in Mozambique.
10 p.m. Fawn: Alicia Gbur, Christian Doble and Matt Rickle have been in other bands, but who cares? Because the song "Hip Parade" is such a thing of sheer power and beauty that it fooled even the most jaded critics we sent it to into thinking it was some new supergroup featuring a few Manic Street Preachers and Sharin Foo. The song even recalls the better post-punk bands of yesteryear (if you've ever gone back for Penetration or the Skids.) This is a little rock band that could, much bigger than the sum of its parts; there's folk-derived girl-boy harmonies, fist-jacking choruses and anthemic drums, and then there's fetching guitarist-singer Gbur.
Second Stage
12:30 a.m. Moon Pool and Dead Band: Dudes Dave Shettler and Nate Young name tunes after Wire songs and Kerouac novels, and trip the ambient electric with gentle, coffee-bean electro serenades on early '80s synths (Pro One!) like a less pop Our Daughter's Wedding — only without words, coifs and pretense, and in dirty jeans.
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