Lincoln Calling 2012 | Day Three

photos by Chevy Anderson | photo-editing by Jay NeSmith

reviews by Casey Welsch, Jay NeSmith and Michael Todd | photos by Bridget McQuillan, Chevy Anderson, Dawn Thorfinnson and Michael Todd

Lincoln Calling 2012 found its groove on Thursday night. Sets were well-timed, varying show by show instead of venue by venue, and the addition of far-flung venues The Alley and The Spigot imbued the festival with even more diversity, even if a trip to either took a bite out of a music fan's precious time.

We've covered all but a few concerts here, with photos, live audio from The Lepers (Lincoln) and Christopher the Conquered (Des Moines), reviews, Instagram photos tagged with #lincolncalling and the full schedule of shows to come. Dive in, and we'll see you downtown Lincoln tonight for the fourth night.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Guilty is the Bear, Fraternal Durango, Bonehart Flannigan, Shipbuilding Co., Alex Walker, Cowboy Indian Bear, The Lepers, Intergalactic Fu, Professor Plum, The Bears of Blue River, UUVVWWZ, Discourse, Christopher the Conquered, Zed Tempo, Powerful Science, The Spring Standards, Laetitia Sadier, Poison Control Center, Time Hammer, Low Horse, Piss Poor, #lincolncalling on Instagram, Lincoln Calling schedule

Guilty is the Bear

review by Michael Todd | photo by Chevy Anderson

On night three, three people greeted Guilty is the Bear at the Black Market at the start of their set. As the three-piece band from Lincoln soundchecked with a full song, lead singer Braun Pacheco pointed to the ceiling of the clothing store. Since he was also the soundman, he took his own cue and turned up the mic.

It’s an admirable move, to book a handful of bands to play free shows at an all-ages venue. From what it sounded like, though, the mix at this bright space, with shoes behind the band and racks crowding the standing room, didn’t benefit the first night’s two groups, Demos and Domestica. This pop rock outfit that opened a set of 30 acts on Thursday boasted neither the youth of Demos nor the time-honored Lincoln legendary status of Domestica (just more than a year old), but they still took the small but slightly growing crowd and converted music venue in stride.

Leading the charge against disappointment, Pacheco asked questions to the “we’d answer you if we didn’t feel so awkward” audience, and expressed his appreciation for those who did come: “Just take a CD, take a wristband, don’t pay for them.” Bassist Ian Smith, who often shared instrumental lines with Pacheco, wore his band’s wristband and did wince every once in awhile when the head nods from a handful were all the band could play for.

Emphasis often fell on the “and” of the measure, which kept those heads a-bobbing. Drummer Jarvis Davis hit his high-hat on this offbeat accent, grooving as the show gradually felt like we were all in on a band practice rather than a formal concert. Here’s hoping Talking Mountain brings its full rig to disprove Casey Welsch’s offhand remark that there is a limit on noise (not true, the building’s tenants say) and demands that the lights be turned off for full effect.

photo by Chevy Anderson

photo by Kat Buchanan, Daily Nebraskan

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Fraternal Durango

review by Michael Todd | photo by Chevy Anderson

Fraternal Durango stood a little more stiffly with their instruments in front of them as they followed Guilty is the Bear. Sure, they borrowed a couple hats, left the tags hanging out the back and grabbed sunglasses to dim the lights a bit. But they did little to hide their short eight months together and acclimatize themselves to a Lincoln Calling spot.

They played with such solid, colorful guitar tones and a bassist that, if his fingers were standing in for his legs, could pluck his way down O Street faster than a journalist booking it back to Duffy's from the festival's two western venues. The songs the good sounds played, though, were poorly structured with jams sitting alongside dissimilar sung sections. It was a mismatched outfit this new band formed at a clothing store, but with skilled instrumentalists, here's looking at improvements in songwriting to meld everything together as well as the honed vocal skills that come with practice.

photo by Kat Buchanan, Daily Nebraskan

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Bonehart Flannigan

photo by Dawn Thorfinnson

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Shipbuilding Co.

review by Casey Welsch | photo by Michael Todd

I get a Wilco vibe from Shipbuilding Co. I haven’t always. I used to lump Shipbuilding Co. into a vague, strange mental reality I have where I process “other bands.” They always seemed good, but didn’t offer any real concrete musical trope to keep them at the forefront of my mind. I always regarded them in the periphery. But I used to do that with Wilco, too. That was until I sat down and really listened to them, both bands, but mostly Shipbuilding Co., and mostly last night. Now I hear it.

I don’t know what I was thinking before. This band was damn good! They still don’t have any real consistent trope to their music, except for the fact that it’s consistently good. There’s some Southern style elements going on, a lot of real bluesey riffs, but also a fair amount of modern guitar pop a lá Vampire Weekend or The Strokes. Shipbuilding Co. brings it all together with style and practiced sophistication. And last night was a much-needed proof of that.

photo by Dawn Thorfinnson

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Alex Walker

review by Michael Todd | photo by Chevy Anderson

To give an artist three songs to prove himself isn't fair. To take from past experience at complete concerts, though, starting a set with two covers generally doesn't bode well. Alex Walker began his time at The Alley with a misrepresentation of "Folsom Prison Blues" — a few lyrical lines and specific words didn't fall in the right place — and "Free Fallin'" before playing his original "Blue-eyed Blues."

The former Higher Empathy Movement member just released his debut solo effort, Waiting for Patience, and if only The Alley wasn't a handful of blocks away from the triumvirate of the Zoo, Duffy's and the Bourbon, I'd have stayed longer to better judge a full-bodied voice singing songs that, at a cursory level, don't do Walker's performance talents justice.

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The Spring Standards

review by Michael Todd | photo by Chevy Anderson

Mustached men are predisposed to do the lip curl. It's a gesture reserved only for moments of intense satisfaction, and The Spring Standards had plenty to share with the Zoo Bar audience as the gingerfully muttonchopped James Cleare (guitarist, percussionist and more) showed his own approval of the notes he'd play.

Of course I'd fixate on Cleare as I am also redheaded. But everyone from the jubilantly swaying Heather Robb on keys and half the drums to James Smith on guitar and the other half of the drums ensured their status as the find of the night. This band out of New York showed us all just how fun their music is, and we responded in kind. The final four songs of The Spring Standards saw to a bit of instrument swapping and closed with one that brought to mind Fleetwood Mac, if only the members of that band truly appreciated and loved each other. Well done, folks, and we'll see you again soon hopefully.

photo by Val Kutchko, Daily Nebraskan

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Cowboy Indian Bear

review by Jay NeSmith | photo by Bridget McQuillan

This was my second time seeing Cowboy Indian Bear. Hailing from Lawrence, Kansas, the quartet brought their usual indie rock infused sound to a seated (but nonetheless interested) crowd at the Bourbon. Overall, the drummer stole the show. Often playing over pre-recorded samples, he kept up with the beat with mechanical-like precision, weaving in some really interesting and intricate rhythms that are seldom found in a lot of indie rock.

They played many songs off of their new album, which according to them, they have been working on for the last two years. Time well spent, I'd say. The songs were incredibly well-crafted. The show came to a great climax when they broke out into an incredibly airy and audibly disorienting vocal round. It sounded almost like some sort of studio delay trick that many artists use, but they were relying only on their ears and musical capabilities. It's not easy to pull something like that off in a live setting, and it just goes to show that Cowboy Indian Bear will definitely be a band to watch over the coming years.

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The Lepers

review by Jay NeSmith | photo by Chevy Anderson

I had seen the Lepers once before, but I had forgotten my ear plugs at that particular show, which proved to be a critical mistake. Thankfully, I remembered them last night at Duffy's, because this band is LOUD, in the best possible way. They make of up for being only a two-piece by being incredibly adept at their instruments, drawing the crowd in with their droney, apocalyptic-sounding roar. They stick mostly to instrumentals, although they had a handful of songs that featured vocals shrieked through a harmonica microphone for an ultimate lo-fi, growling sound.

Their guitarist flip-flopped between his guitar and a bass, both of which were equally distorted and bent through a dizzying array of pedals and effects. Their drummer was equally impressive, keeping the songs heavy and driving throughout the whole set. Often breaking out into fits of swirling feedback and dark, ambient drones, they displayed an incredible amount of both musicianship and emotion in their performance. They definitely aren't a band for everyone, but anyone can appreciate the amount of skill these guys display.

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Intergalactic Fu

review by Casey Welsch

I have never heard of this band, and they played way off the beerten path at The Alley, which actually had a hell of a lineup last night. I showed up a few songs in, expecting not much, but I was immediately greeted with some kind of get-up music, with some kind of funky music, with perhaps even a little soul of its own.

Intergalactic Fu, it turns out, is appropriately named, as they do sound quite like the superstar New Orleans jazz funk group Galactic, but there’s more to them than that. It was kind of a Galactic jam when I showed up, with some Funky White Boy charm to it, but the next song took it to a different plane. Singer and keysman Casey Fink is a wizard with his key/synth setup, and has a voice just not-cheesy enough to make you believe in his mojo, and he took his band to Devo town. No covers, but it straight up sounded like a Devo jam at the Alley, and I loved every minute of it.

Intergalactic Fu have been playing together for a while, but haven’t really done much by way of public performance. But Fink and his brother Dylan, guitar, both agreed that “Lincoln Calling really gave us the initiative to take this thing out of our basement and give it a go.” I’m very glad it did.

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Professor Plum

review by Casey Welsch

Jake Gardner’s Prof. Plum persona is what Neil Young would have sounded like addicted to nitrous oxide instead of cocaine, and Gardner even played a Neil Young cover to prove it. Despite the homage, the professor is a fantastic songwriter, and a lot of his tunes kind of sound like toned-down, mashed-up versions of “I Am The Walrus” put in a panini press with “Helpless” (note: Gardner played next door to The Bourbon's paninis at Yia Yia's). The result is a pretty seamless modern pop folk that seems to come to Gardner naturally.

Though some of his lyrics skew toward the intangible, Prof. Plum’s songs are consistently unique and endearing, and Gardner is ever the one for wry wit on stage. Prof. Plum's set is also officially the first I've ever watched at Yia Yia's, and the little music space tucked way in the back is actually pretty nice. It's intimate without being too crowded, and Prof. Plum had just enough energy to make it sound full. It was a pleasant, fully realized mix.

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The Bears of Blue River

review by Jay NeSmith | photo by Chevy Anderson

Bears of Blue River, from Chicago, put on a great show with Low Horse at the Zoo Bar. I walked in on their second or third song, but I was immediately captivated by their blend of danceable, indie pop-rock sprinkled with country-western influences. Their female vocalist had a beautiful, songbird-like voice that really meshed well and rounded out their vocal harmonies, adding another dimension of sound to their already well-assembled ensemble. 

Adding the finishing touch to their sound, their second guitarist would intermittently don a lap steel guitar, something that is definitely a rarity in the style of music they play. In addition to their great music, they also carried a very lively stage presence, and as a result, they were an absolute joy to watch. After their set, the singer came up to us an introduced himself, a very nice guy. Our photorapher Bridget McQuillan and I bought some merch, and are definitely looking forward to seeing them play in Omaha later tonight once again.

photo by Chevy Anderson

photo by Kat Buchanan, Daily Nebraskan

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UUVVWWZ

review by Casey Welsch | photo by Chevy Anderson

I must shamefully admit that I’ve been really lazy keeping up with UU for the last couple of years. I’d heard some of their new songs after they came off hiatus, but before last night I hadn’t ever bothered to process whether or not they were any good. Well, thanks, UU, for putting your boots on last night and allowing me some pondering time.

UU nailed the Bourbon. A big crowd in the main room looked on as Teal Gardner, Jim Schroeder, Dustin Wilbourn and Dave Ozinga played as Lincoln has come to revere them for. This band has been playing together so long, it’s just a little smile or nod from Schroeder to Wilbourn or Gardner to her boys, and everything onstage clicks. UU is seamless, or at least it seems so from the crowd.

I would like to say something of the atmosphere that has arisen at UU shows as I have seen them since the hiatus. I remember UU packing a hundred people into the Box Awesome basement, playing so loud I could barely review the album the next day. I remember a small, dilapidated house being filled almost literally to bursting as UU played their fifth show in 12 hours, and I had to wipe sweat condensation off my camera lense every 15 seconds. I remember UU shows being a lot more energetic than they have of late. The songs were great last night but the crowd was so stoic, as was Gardner, and though her voice danced beautifully, there wasn’t much presence from her on stage. A small thing, a nostalgic thing perhaps, but no trump of the fact that UU put on a hell of a show last night.

photo by Chevy Anderson

photo by Nikolai Hammar, Daily Nebraskan

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Discourse

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Christopher the Conquered

review and photo by Michael Todd

The audience at a concert is telling. Although most everyone looks ahead to the stage, a quick glance around the room offers an indicator of whether it's mostly friends and family (with that smiling but somewhat glazed-over look that comes with watching the same band multiple times), whether it's mostly fans (singing or foot-tapping along) or whether it's mostly folks taken by the first time they've seen an artist.

Christopher the Conquered gathered a crowd of that last sort. Journalists including the Journal Star's L. Kent Wolgamott, musicians Mike Elsener (Partington) of Shipbuilding Co. and Owen Cleasby of The Lepers, and interested patrons at Duffy's Tavern were drawn to the long, Southern sermons of Chris Ford. The thick-glass bespectacled and well-spoken Iowan played strong solo bluesy gospel songs about the best album in the history of time and other heart-filled and eccentric subjects.

Ford was on piano then off piano, off mic, on the floor, on stage, and he returned the favor by being taken with the crowd. "Fortunately, we’re in a situation where the coolness isn’t being sucked by any vacuum or cleaning product of that type, which I feel grateful for." We can all snap along to that.

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Zed Tempo

review by Casey Welsch

Once again I found myself among the most beautiful people on the planet, as Zed Tempo refers to their audiences, at another really good set out of the way at The Alley. I already liked Zed Tempo, and they still kept me around for their whole set. There is no dark side to Zed’s music, a kind of panglobal highlife jam music. It just shines off the stage. It’s bubbly, but not like a cauldron bubbling or a soda, but like children from all continents playing on a breezy hillside, blowing bubbles in the sunlight.

Zed Tempo doesn’t give way to some of the typical “jam band” failings, and thus I don’t think of them as one, namely. They still value a sense of brevity and structure to their songs, or at least it seems that way to the listener. There’s a lot going on musically in each song with three guitars, bass, flute, drum and the occasional flamenco flourish, but it always gels into a triumphant, uptempo groove that dances on the periphery of folk, funk, dub and afrobeat, while keeping it accessible the whole way.

This was the first set I saw at Lincoln Calling so far where there were actually some ladies dancing to the music, and there were quite a few. And it may be the only time I’ve seen a mid line-up act get called back for an encore at this fest. Zed Tempo got lots of love at the Alley, and they deserved it, and spread it all around, in turn. Because there’s no dark side to Zed Tempo.

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Powerful Science

photo by Nikolai Hammar, Daily Nebraskan

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Laetitia Sadier

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Poison Control Center

review by Casey Welsch

Only one word can accurately sum up Poison Control Center’s set at Duffy’s: flexible. Poison Control Center had enough energy, volume and, most importantly, flexibility to keep the whole bar going.

Splits and flips were the order of the day on stage, and luckily, PCC can craft pretty damn good rock songs to go on top of them. I was having a great time. This was the second place I saw women dancing last night, one of only three, the final being at Yia Yia’s for Time Hammer.

Ames, Iowa, seems to send Lincoln nothing but good musical ambassadors, and I’m going to have to add these guys to my list of things to watch around the region. Hell, Ames, you’re starting to make Lincoln look a little less shiny in comparison. Their set was so good it almost made up for my disappointment that I had to miss Lepers.

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Time Hammer

review by Michael Todd | photo by Bridget McQuillan

As I bellied up to the bar at Yia Yia's, a long-haired, wild-natured new friend gave me a hearty hug. "What are you getting?" "I don't know, you tell me." It makes sense that a crazy soul like him, who would later mosh with himself in front of the stage and with Time Hammer's rappers and drummers, Joe Younglove and Travis Beck, would enjoy this band.

From Younglove's on-the-ground-and-spinning guitar-playing to Beck's duck hat with wings to bassist Stewart Hehn's massive, fuzzy bass lines and Conner Goertzen's scratching on his turntables, Time Hammer is out of control. Still, somehow — through their self-aware antics, humorous verses on technology, their use of props at shows — somehow they keep a serious feeling somewhere hidden that keeps their concerts from being laughable.

If you missed this set, I feel sorry for you.

photo by Nikolai Hammar, Daily Nebraskan

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Low Horse

photo by Bridget McQuillan


photos by Stacie Hecker, Daily Nebraskan

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Piss Poor

review and photo by Michael Todd

I won't claim to know anything about hardcore music. But from what I could tell at Piss Poor's show that started earlier than scheduled, I've been missing out. A dedicated group of listeners and beer-can throwers were more tuned in than perhaps any other show the whole night.

Seeing Todd Poore — one of our community's most virtuosic guitarists — live for the first time was crucial to my Nebraska music education, too. I plan to learn more after meeting this new scene, and thanks to Dustin "Duff" Hunke for booking Piss Poor and bands for the Thursday and Friday night "heavy" editions of Lincoln Calling. 

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LINCOLN CALLING SCHEDULE

Michael Todd is Hear Nebraska's managing editor. Bridget McQuillan, Chevy Anderson, Jay NeSmith and Natalia Kraviec are HN interns. Casey Welsch and Dawn Thorfinnson are HN contributors. Together, they make up eight-fifteenths of our Lincoln Calling coverage crew. Reach us all through Michael at michaeltodd@hearnebraska.org.