SMAsh 8: A benefit for SMAsh Radio
w/Geri X/The Semis/Auditorium/Military Junior/Malayne
Fri., March 23, The Garage, St. Petersburg
Some kids pick up a guitar because they want to play like Jimmy Page. Others take a path less trodden, eschewing the heavy riffs of the rock gods for the quirky, finger-tapping sounds of folks like Dave Knudson. His band, the Seattle quartet Minus the Bear, is cited as an influence by Tampa Bay trios Military Junior and Auto!Automatic!, two bands that took the stage last Friday at The Garage in front of about150 people (100 paying customers) who showed up at the 300-capacity venue for "SMAsh 8: A benefit for SMAsh Radio." The podcast with a focus on local music is co-produced by Tampa Bay impresario (and Creative Loafing staffer) Joran Oppelt, who implements everything from text messaging to podcasting to help the unsigned bands associated with his Southeast Music Alliance.
The night started a bit slowly but ended with a zinger thanks to a frenzied yet focused set by Auto!Automatic! The band's guitarist, Greg Larsen, flashed a big smile as his fingers danced up and down the neck of his guitar and tapped out zigzag lines across the constantly shifting tempos created by drummer Alex Fedele and bassist Nate Murray. The chaotic instrumentals brought attendees to the front of the stage. Auto!Automatic! enjoys unleashing intricate surprises, but the trio's ear for melody and high-energy stage presence — Larsen does a lot more up there than just stare down at his effects pedals — is what truly sold their 30-minute performance.
Military Junior kicked out an equally tight yet slightly less impressive set, with guitarist/singer Jason Schuktz wowing audience members by stomping on a nifty effects pedal that allowed his instrument to continue emanating weird sounds after he set it down mid-song. But his vocals were lost in the mix and the layered sound that makes the St. Pete trio's album When You Get Lost on Those Brick Streets a great headphones listen fell a bit flat in a live context.
Chief organizer Oppelt gave his art-rock band Auditorium the unenviable task of going on first around 9:15 p.m. in front of a crowd that numbered no more than 15. "Typical turnout for a live show," Oppelt muttered in between songs, but he manned up and soldiered on.
Gifted St. Pete songstress Geri X took the stage next with her boyfriend Greg Roteik joining her on second guitar. Unfortunately, the majority of her set was plagued with microphone problems that rendered her choice lyrics unintelligible. Tampa-based four-piece Malayne followed with a monotonous set of droning, blurry guitar riffs and pained, over-the-top vocals. The Semis managed a strong showing that included straight-up, high-volume assaults with reverb-drenched solos by charismatic guitarist/singer Billy Summer.
The Who Redo
Sun. March 25, Ford Amphitheatre, Tampa
As the staccato organ riff lingered, you could sense a palpable anticipation from the crowd. Roger Daltrey, bronchitis survivor, was about to replicate one of the great recorded screams in rock 'n' roll history, the mighty shriek from "Won't Get Fooled Again" Could he execute? Would he hold back in light of his still-recovering pipes? Would he blow it out as a conciliatory gesture to the crowd that had, just 12 days earlier, endured The Who's cancellation of a Ford Amphitheatre concert 30 seconds into the first song?
Truth was, the audience had long forgiven Daltrey. Cheers rained down on him when he, guitarist Pete Townshend and four hired hands walked onto the stage shortly after 8:30 p.m. Sunday. His voice was ragged in spots, but by and large he sounded like himself. The Who played spirited renditions of songs from throughout their catalogue: the pumped-up British Invasion pop of "The Kids are Alright" and "Substitute," the groove-intensive "Eminence Front," the epic anthem "Baba O'Reilly," a rousing "Who Are You?" and a judiciously chosen handful of tunes from last year's Endless Wire album.
A wild, stretched-out version of "My Generation" and a punchy medley of songs from Tommy were yet to come, but the pinnacle moment was at hand. Daltrey hunched down a bit, grasped the mic with both hands, threw his head back and … "Yeeeeeeeeahhhhhhhhhh!"
High and loud and piercing and long and fearless. The crowd went bonkers. Daltrey smiled.
It was the sound of atonement.
—Eric Snider
This article appears in Mar 21-27, 2007.