Words and photos by Carolina Carmo
Some eight weeks ago, the Washington Post put out a list of 10 “can’t-miss” local concerts in June. While they definitely didn’t mean it to be instructional, as a live music junkie I took it as a challenge. An excuse to marathon a bunch of shows while I spent my summer wasting away in D.C.? Earplugs, camera and I’m out the door.
However, I couldn’t have foreseen how too much this was going to be. I went to three shows back to back to back, I scheduled my summer plans around them, I was constantly dragging friends to go with me. Even though a handful were great, I am so burnt out that I have a screaming urge to not do this thing I love for a long while. WaPo should’ve included a hazard warning.
Here’s how I spent my June in the District —
Massie @ Pie Shop, 5/31
Massie does for me what I think Beach Bunny is supposed to. Their shiny, loud hooks made for a phenomenal and memorable single release show for their latest, “Lost Mary,” an anti-Tooth Fairy pop-punk anthem. “What you gonna do with that? / My Mom’s got a box where she keeps them.”
The girls in Massie, Emily Yaremchuk on guitar and vocals and Samantha Collings on drums (who reminds me of an SMPA classmate with her wide braces-clad smile), were sporting matching looks — tiny bras and half-up pigtails — while bassist Will Salzmann hid his face behind the biggest, most free-flowing hair I’ve seen onstage. They looked like a coordinated three-piece, and sounded like it too. Their set filled the room to the brim with bubble-gum-pink guitar, energizing the crowd all the way to the back of the sold out venue. Emily’s Gwen Stefani-esque vocals carried the band from song to song, as they took crowd requests and expanded the encore to include a spot-on take on Britney Spears’ “Toxic.”
By the end of the night I could feel the floor thumping. Massie makes intuitively headbangable music. The people who like Massie, LOVE Massie. And to those of us who were there for the first time, we now really, really like Massie.
Flowers For The Dead @ Songbyrd, 6/6
For the first stop of their summer tour, Flowers For The Dead celebrated the release of their new single “Two of Me.” The track still has their signature grungy sound but honed with sharper songwriting and a fresh indie edge.
The band had two openers that night. The first was Hubble, a dreamy Atlanta indie outfit. Their bassist stood center stage and wore a wedding band (what does it say about me that this is the first thing I notice? Hm). The second was Milliseconds, a three-piece that had a sort of Radiohead-ish and Yo La Tengo-ish sound, scraped together from aging ex-members of The Vehicle Birth and Dismemberment Plan. A little girl in an NPR Tiny Desk t-shirt that fit her more like a dress, who I assumed was the drummer’s daughter, blew him a kiss at the end of the set.
Flowers then nailed their surprisingly short set of sleepy bangers, negating the fact that they told me they were nervous beforehand at the merch table. Frontwoman Jessie Szegö and bassist Ella Buskirk wore vintage dresses with flowy tulle skirts and were backgrounded by a looping psychedelic video collage from Disney’s original Alice in Wonderland. Pale and beautiful, they looked like Victorian dolls in a dark dreamhouse, surrounded by mementos of a bad trip – a decorative tassel trim lamp, a Two Tune TV, a worn teddy bear and a blue suitcase packed with guitar pedals (accessories sold separately). It was like I spent 35 minutes inside of someone else’s dream.
A highlight of the set (and my favorite song of theirs) was “At All,” instantly recognizable by the opening drum beat and the droning post-rock riff. Later, the band followed “Two of Me” with its soon-to-be-released B-side “Teeth.” If I had a nickel every time a local ⅔ girl band wrote a single about teeth I would have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird it happened twice and weirder I heard them back to back. Complementary to its A-side, the track has a cool swagger to the verses and a growing, gnawing, repeating chorus where both vocalists jump on the mic. It’s palpable how well Jessie’s and Ella’s harmonies layer on top of each other – just enough that they bleed together cohesively but not to a point where you can’t pick out whose voice is whose.
I wished I was wearing an itchy vintage gown so I could play and trip and watch cartoons in their dreamworld too.
Spring Silver, Soul Meets Body @ The Pocket, 6/7
I felt slightly cheated that I only got to hear a short acoustic set (I wasn’t even wearing my earplugs) from K Nkanza of Spring Silver. During this show, K sounded more like Elliott Smith than their usual harsh, dancy indie pop (they also did an Elliott Smith cover, “Coming Up Roses,” which was awesome).
I was close to leaving the venue before the final act. I was tired and had seen who I thought I was here to cover, but someone came up to me and asked about my camera before I could slip downstairs and outside. He continued to hold me up, “you look familiar, were you at the Massie show?” He was the other kid with a camera at Pie Shop a week ago, and was here shooting video for headliner Soul Meets Body. After I mentioned I was thinking of heading home, he proceeded to tell me they were such a fun live band, that fans were definitely going to mosh, that the lead singer always joined the crowd (and that I should get ready to take photos when she did, but “oh is your camera gonna handle that because the room is so dark”). You could sense how fervently he loved Soul Meets Body.
They were fine. Stale millennial pop punk hinging on cringe in the sense that they self-label as “Thicc Bitch Punk Rock.” I had fun, I’m only kinda glad I didn’t bail early.
Breakfast All Day Records Showcase @ Songbyrd, 6/8
School’s out and to celebrate the start of summer, high schooler-led Breakfast All Day Records threw a showcase of young musicians at a Songbyrd matinee. All performers, and most crowd members, sported black X’s on their hands, while their parents peeked out from behind horizontal-facing phone cameras.
The showcase was a snack pack of Bethesda’s musical little league. The Plastic Toys, whose drummer is one of three students who runs the label, played a strong indie rock set, with covers from beabadoobee and Car Seat Headrest plus some originals. Lola, the clear highlight, was a jam band with elements of surf rock and psychedelic. Their bassist was probably the coolest person in the room. He slapped his way through the infatuating percussive groove, “Banana Jam,” a song he wrote and the most memorable one from the show. Lastly, Scoria was more of what I expected from a high school band. The stage was bloated with its members decked out in sleek, expensive gear; there always seemed to be someone idle up there. Switching between Backseat Lovers covers (why) and long-winded, dramatic, 80s rock-sounding originals, it was like they weren’t quite sure what sort of music they wanted to make and leaned heavily into the bands their dads thought were cool at that age.
A Songbyrd matinee is already a treat, and this show left me pleasantly surprised; like getting out of class early some sunny afternoon and having extra long band practice in your parent’s garage with the door open. It might’ve not all been my taste, but these high schoolers are doing what I wish I was at that age. And doesn’t that make me sound like the old one now?
Prude @ Songbyrd, 6/12
At just under half full, the room was emptier than I imagined it would be for Prude’s debut album release show. The latest from the guitar-playing-and-singing half of The Obsessives, Nick Bairatchnyi’s solo project strangely sounds both rawer and more overproduced than his other work. Nick was joined on stage by the rhythm section of Snail Mail, Ray Brown on drums – who was manically running around before hopping on stage, which I think is his status quo as a booker, organizer and working musician – and Alex Bass on bass (isn’t that awesome).
The three started with an impromptu cover of “The Little Drummer Boy” that drowned out the house music (ABBA’s “Take A Chance On Me”) before jumping straight into one of the album’s songs, “Beers (F.O.G.).” Their live sound highlighted Nick’s vocals, which were gentler than the up front throaty-ness on the album. The stripped down instrumentals spotlighted the songs themselves, even when the lyrics weren’t winners (“Put me on to songs that made me feel fuckable / The way I felt when you touched me was untouchable”). Nick’s off-putting charm, elevated by his incredible collaborators, made for an exceptional set out of alright songs.
Flowerbomb, Pinky Lemon @ Comet Ping Pong, 6/14
What I thought was just going to be another box to check off was transformed by the purposeful way Flowerbomb performed on what was clearly an important night to them. In the middle of their EP release set, the band’s frontwoman, Rachel Kline, stopped to tune, sheepishly looking down at her pedal board through her curly hair and thanked us for being there with her. “Some people have important events in their lives like their wedding or something and to me it’s this.”
Following a distorted, synth-ridden performance from Pinky Lemon (whose only weakness was that the vocals were too low), Flowerbomb played a compelling batch of easy indie rock. Guided by lush vocals and the textured tone of an acoustic guitar, their comforting sound made the tight, sold out room at Comet feel even more intimate. Rachel stood glowing in a warm spotlight all night. It was like she was singing only for me.
The encore, by crowd request, was just Rachel and her bassist Abby doing a stripped, twangy version of “Lukewarm.” It was a wonderful goodbye for the late night gig. I left there at 1 a.m., and while my friends slumped in the backseat, I was giddy replaying moments of the set from behind the wheel. I hoped my run of shows would continue to be this good.
I was soon to be disappointed.
SHAED @ The Atlantis, 6/15
SHAED’s first hangout was playing songs together outside of Tysons Corner mall for hours. Now they’re a group that comes back to D.C. to play hometown shows, which to me means they’ve abandoned the community I’m in constant search of. Fucking out-of-towners. Why was I at this show?
The band’s pop music is really safe and smooth. But smooth as in the absence of something intriguing or exciting, like plain oatmeal. The crowd itself could’ve given that away if I’d chosen to read into it more. It was mostly made up of the typical D.C. yuppie that I fear becoming if I stay here post-grad and take up a menial job. They were overly normal, khaki-wearing, “Freebird”-screaming millennials who are (too?) into electropop.
SHAED used a backing track the whole night, which made them less interesting. Twin brothers Spencer and Max Ernst hopped around from instrument to instrument, sometimes both ending up on the drum kit, which made me feel crowded. Some songs had a catchy hook but the rest of the tune wouldn’t complete the loop. Vocalist Chelsea Lee is obviously extremely talented, she performed this show at seven months pregnant and her vocals sounded flawless. I caught myself thinking I would love to hear her lend her voice to a more exciting producer.
Ted Leo and the Pharmacists w/ Ekko Astral @ 9:30 Club, 6/20
Ekko Astral, who opened that night, are meant to be a band. Not once during their set did they stop moving and after the first fifteen minutes all five members were glistening under the lights. “This next one goes out to…anyone who wants to dance, fuck it,” lead singer Jael Holzman said as they jumped straight into “devorah,” from their latest album pink balloons. I had to stop mid-song to take out the bobby pins holding up my hair because I was headbanging so hard.
Like the punks that came before them, Ekko’s songs are riddled with direct political messaging with Jael focusing her lyricism on her experience as a trans woman. But they’re also full of repetitive outdated meme-speak (“uwu type beat”). The unreleased song they played, “Pomegranate Tree,” ended with the band robotically droning “where is my melatonin,” which was annoying.
I didn’t catch on that Ted Leo and the Pharmacists’ were playing their album Shake The Sheets in full until the middle of the show. This was super my bad, it was billed as an anniversary tour. Days were beginning to blend together by now, I was zombie-marching to the finish line. Their long set was packed with dozens of songs and dragged on by Ted’s constant pauses to crack jokes and toy with the audience. He was genuinely charming, sweetly wearing a white Sinead O’Connor t-shirt, which got soaked through and transparent with sweat from giving his all to the fans of 20+ years in the packed crowd. I’m glad I was there, I’m glad these guys are still around.
Ted gave a shout out to Ekko during the set, saying he envies people coming up in the scene right now who have bands like these to follow. He then brought them up on stage for a cover of “Dog Eat Dog” by Adam & The Ants and a 10 person dance party to close out the night. It felt like a passing-of-the-baton, an important shout to the people who are currently making exciting music in the District.
Right in the front was a ride-or-die fan in a green jersey that I bet would be stage diving if we were in a smaller venue. I was so endeared being in a crowd of people celebrating their favorite hometown band. I craved being the old-head nerd almost toppling over the barricade for the acts in my scene. I saw good friends in the crowd and in the mosh, and booked it to the Metro before it closed at midnight. On nights like these I feel like a local too.
Birthday Girl DC @ Black Cat, 6/28
This one officially marked when seeing these shows got old. Dragging myself around the different venues felt like a chore. Plus, the gig was skippable. I’d just caught Birthday Girl’s Dirtier EP release at Comet and it was tough to make it out for a 30 minute set I’d already heard. The teenage band was the second opener for Les Say Fav, playing to a room full of Gen X-ers at Black Cat. The median age in there was upwards of 40, and the handful of Birthday Girl fans dragged that measure way down.
I think the best part about watching Birthday Girl play live is how expressive and silly they are. Guitarist and vocalist Mabel Canty and drummer Tess Kontarinis made faces and laughed at each other multiple times. Mabel is wholly herself on stage – throwing up peace signs and dramatically saying “bless” in a playful vocal fry – even in a crowd that probably doesn’t relate to her uniquely young perspective on relationships (“It’s not the love of two virgins anymore / It’s the type where one bites and the other’s left on the floor”). Whatever. I was tired and the songs started to feel too wordy. Ian Mackeye was hanging out backstage and I didn’t get to talk to him.
I left early and got a chili dog on my way home, which was probably the highlight of my night.
Outerloop, XK Scenario, Spring Silver @ Comet Ping Pong, 6/29
The best part about this show was that it was the last one on the list. The marathon nearly choked out all the fun from live music, and this one was like two hands on my neck.
Spring Silver, now as a full band, easily showed up the other two acts. K sported the infamous Maryland flag pattern on their guitar strap. Their sound was bright while still being murky and punkish, as they bopped through upbeat tracks like “Another Perfect Day, Another Perfect Night.” They got better as the set went on, but the rest of the night went downhill from there.
XK Scenario was a mix of pretentious rock-rap that made me think “you’re surely doing too much.” I should have caught on early that they were overcompensating when the vocalist said that this was “the best lineup in D.C.” and instead of thanking us for coming out, that we, the audience, should be grateful they put this show together. There was a lot of overplaying, their aggressive, forced grooves were riddled with tacky slap bass and outdated guitar effects. During the thin moshes (can I be critical of these half-assed pits when I’m so rarely in them?) they undeservedly smashed gear into other gear. At one point the band cut out so the frontman could get on his knees and quiver out a violent monologue or prayer, I couldn’t tell which. The sentiment hanging over the room was a lot like the feeling you get when people sing “happy birthday” to you – uncomfortable and incapacitating. They were supposed to be celebrating a new release but made a big deal of how they hadn’t finished it in time. Good. May it never drop.
I checked out a few songs into Outerloop’s set because I truly could not have been less into it. I also got distracted trying to figure out if a dude in some of the ugliest shoes I have ever seen was the guy I was dating last spring. They were better than XK, but the performance felt forced. The lead singer kept crawling around on the stage at the end of songs. I think her mix of Spanish and English lyrics had room to be cool but the entire show was so gimmicky, that it fell into the same bucket. Looking around, I noticed there was no one my age. But, it’s better that the people who are going to be here for the future of the scene are only showing face to gigs that are worth seeing. There’d be no way to have live music everyday if there weren’t any flops to keep venues booked and the machine going.
I started this project because I couldn’t land a summer job. It turned into a holy quest to find the scene, an elusive one because of its disparate ages and genres.
A few months ago I interviewed Ray Brown and he described D.C. music as having a “townie vibe.” He not only rapid-fire listed too many local artists for me to keep up with, but he named people in those bands that he sees around regularly. The best part of going to all these shows was talking to the other local junkies there. At Flowers For The Dead, concert photographer Alec Pugliese was fangirling to anyone who would listen. At Prude I got to schmooze with Lucia Zambetti and her bassist Annie, Ryan Walchonski from Feeble Little Horse and Aunt Katrina, @dmvrovingsketcher (three-time marathon recurring character) and two Songbyrd staff members. At Ted Leo, the people I knew there were invested in both bands, obviously more devoted to the city than any one act.
But the weakest shows were the ones that felt disconnected. Self-absorbed. Half the appeal of a local gig isn’t just if the bands are good, it’s if it feels special to where I am. This marathon brought me closer to the scene but it sucked that it took this much effort. And the reward was entry to a club where the members don’t all advocate for one another. The bands here could collaborate more, help each other write, sound, perform better. Or at the very least show out. Save for a few exceptions, why weren’t these musicians at each others’ shows? Why did I have to dig this deep?
There is a scene here if you’re willing to look for it and, as much as I might hate on some of ‘em, a group of real people who really live here are holding it together. But they need more support. Musicians, photographers, artists, college radio kids, weirdos – we have to care to foster, uplift and bring others into the community. Or else all the different sounds of the District will just get lost in the noise.
