Indie pop violinist Kishi Bashi's live set has you bopping off the walls

Kishi Bashi is one of those silly, zany artists who you can't help but break out in a big goofy smile for, and I got to catch him Friday night at Mercy Lounge. Otherwise known as Kaoru Ishibashi, he's been a touring member with Of Montreal and also in Regina Spektor's band, but it seems he's doing pretty well on his own.

Clad in his pink tuxedo and bowtie, he wowed the crowd by incorporating his vividly realized violin skill into whimsical, dream coated indie pop songs. His new album, Lighght, more heavily favors synthesizers and Phoenix style dance beats.

He was able to touch the ceiling with his soaring upper register, which gave him room to maneuver on cuts like "Bright Whites," which sounds like a gleeful take on The Beatles' White Album era, and played "Neon Genesis for Him and Her," about how the world was created through two people's love for one another.

Kishi Bashi and banjo player Mike Savino, play well off one another.

But the night's most gorgeous moment came from the final song in the main set. The quiet, beautiful magnificence of "Manchester," drifted through the performance chamber as he croons, "My favorite part is when I die/ in your arms like a movie/ tragic, but now the story has its proper end." It gently builds to a powerful final cascade of violin work.

His encore was the standout event of the evening, however. He had us all bouncing around and dancing during "The Ballad of Mr. Steak," a silly synthesizer driven cut about a steak who just wants to spend his life dancing before he is eaten. Then he did a cover of "Live and Let Die," before closing with "It All Began With a Burst," in which he let us sing the zany high pitched parts.

He relied heavily on tape loops, looping the violin parts. He had a banjo player, Mike Savino, but it didn't sound like typical country banjo playing. When I could hear it, it sounded more like Calypso inspired playing. He had flashing red and green Christmas lights inside his banjo that lit up while he played. Bashi would stop to do some random improv here and there between songs. At one point, he and Savino were playing off one another and were totally feeding off each other's energy.

When it comes to songs that rely more heavily on studio effects, however, its clear that he's still working on figuring out how to translate it to live stage. The lack of acoustic guitar in the band clearly effected the timbre of certain cuts, and not for the better. "Q&A" felt much emptier without it, while "Philosophize In It! Chemacilze In It!" required a near re-write for the second half of the song.

This was one of my favorite songs from him, with one of my favorite aspects of it being the acoustic guitar breakdown near the end. But instead of that he broke into a very brief jam session, and then delivered the final lines with a whimper.

That stuck out as the biggest weakness of his set was that certain songs didn't translate as well without guitar. The banjo player was talented and was a great showman, but the instrument itself didn't seem to add much to the performance. It tended to get swallowed up by the rest of the mix.

Menomena delivers smashing sing along to enthralled crowd at Mercy

Portland indie rockers Menomena have been through considerable upheaval since losing guitarist Brent Knopf  in early 2011, one of the major creative cogs in the band. Fortunately,  it hasn't changed the fact that they are still one of the most creative and innovative bands in indie rock today, and their live performances continue to kick ass. If anyone doubts that the band is still teeming with life and vitality, their set at Nashville's Mercy Lounge Saturday night is just one more piece of evidence to toss onto the pile.

Justin Harris provides propulsive rhythm for Menomena.

The first ingredient in their magic spell is stage presence. Justin Harris possesses a stout, muscular build; all eyes are on him as his leonine hair splashes about while he plucks the strings of his bass. He projects a very serious demeanor  In contrast, drummer Danny Siem is tall, gangly, and long limbed. He presents a laid back and free spirited persona onstage, a trait that also provides an apt description his drumming style.

He's like a wizard that sits in front of a kit and conjures the perfect rhythm to drive forward his band's distinctive style. Each hit gives his sticks tremendous bounceback off the pads, providing him with the kinetic energy needed to to deliver a performance full of thunder and passion. And he's always moving around the kit, cooking up something creative, so that even when he is playing a basic beat it still seems dynamic.

While Siem's rhythms provide an invaluable foundation, the rest of the band lays down a varied tapestry that makes up the backbone of the Menomena's sound. There are splashes and flourishes of guitar here and there, but the instrument often serves as more of a mood generator as opposed to actually taking the lead itself.  Keys, pianos and Harris's saxophone fills out the structure of most songs, but ultimately it is the catchy and addictive vocal melodies that seal the deal. The evidence was on display in the Mercy Lounge crowd, as the whole front row joined in wholeheartedly, pouring and singing their hearts out.

Their subject matter is also varied and diverse. Many of their lyrics focus on the knotty tangle that often forms between men and women over sense and sexuality  "Don't Mess With Latexas," builds a story around a morally questionable bedroom encounter.

"Heavy is as Heavy Does," one of the best songs from last September's Moms album, is a brooding piece focusing on the deterioration of a relationship between father and son. The tripped out guitar feedback/distortion section near the end provides a great complement. And they closed their main set with the adrenaline blast that is "Taos." It wows with its swaggering sense of braggadocio, only to turn reverential in the second half. A dynamic drum fill and moving piano chords complete the experience.

Danny Siem drums, sings, and powers Menomena's engine.

Chicago two piece Local H pulverize Mercy with punishing hard rock

Scott Lucas is a very serious man, and in all things it's easy to tell he's very intense. At least that's the case when it comes to preforming live with his long running garage rock band, Local H. The two piece Chicago hard rockers hit their stride in the mid-90s with a run of semi successful singles and have kept it going ever since.

Scott Lucas of Local H goes nuts during a shred session at Mercy Lounge.

On an oppressively blustery and windy Thursday night, Lucas took at the stage at Nashville's finest club venue, Mercy Lounge, in a stonewashed plaid shirt that a piece of vintage 90s fashion. He looks like a less photogenic version of Leo DiCaprio, though his music rings through with such a straightforward, aggressive vigor that there is no doubting the sincerity of his craft. The playing isn't very technical aside from drummer Brian St. Clair, but who says raw aggression can't be every bit as engaging?

His sound, is geared toward creating far more noise than two guys should be capable of making. This is achieved partly though playback switches that activate guitar rhythms,  partly through an echo effect applied to his mic, and partly through pure badassery. The raw energy put out by this two piece is reminiscent of the Japandroids; that is, if the Japandroids were in their forties -- older, smarter, wiser, and perhaps more cynical. But no less viscous.

He was pretty energetic -- jumping off speakers, headbanging, even grabbing a fan's phone at one point a fiddling with it before handing it back and resuming his playing. And he had several surprises in store for us all though the night. Notable setlist standouts included "Bound for the Floor," from 1996, essentially the band's biggest hit. It has a washed out 90s atmosphere reminiscent of grunge and Nirvana without explicitly sounding like either. It's perfectly acceptable skateboarding music.

Lucas also shows off his humor on "California Songs," on which he derides the vast volume of songs paying tribute to the the Golden State. He had the crowd enthusiastically shouting along with the central refrain, "No more California songs!"

"And fuck New York too!" he spat.

Brian St. Clair, left, and Scott Lucas comprise Chicago based hard rock band Local H.

Mayan references were impossible to get away from, even here. Lucas got into a conversation with one fan
over whether we were all going to burn up at midnight or at 5 am. Later, he drove the point home with a cover of Rush's "2112." It all ended with a demented Christmas carol. He looked like a mental patient while singing Jingle Bells while a piercing layer of feedback buzzed in the background. It concluded with Lucas shouting the final refrain.

Local rockers 100 Watt Opera warmed the seat for him, who brought a vintage high flying rock attack to Mercy. Their sound bared strong resemblance to Van Halen or perhaps some random NWOBHM band, albeit without the godly solos. Instead we had to suffice with a series of low volume wah solos from the strings of lead guitarist Jesse Floyd.

Singer William Baugh sounded like he was trying to do a simultaneous impersonation of Bruce Dickinson and Blaze Bayley -- and a poor one that at. The band was high spirited and crunchy enough to be engaging, though not very fulfilling.

Lucas himself kicked off the night with an acoustic set, preforming under the name Scott Lucas & the Married Men. The set consisted of about five or six heartfelt and meaningful tunes, culminating in his howling cover of "Ain't No Grave."

Eww! Yuck sludges up the Mercy Lounge

Yuck pummels the Mercy Lounge with their grimy lo-fi assault.

Say what you will about big time concerts featuring major fanfare and well known artists, but sometimes you can't beat seeing a little indie band kick it. As I made my way to the Mercy Lounge last Wednesday, the scene couldn't have been more perfect.

The weather was warm outside but you couldn't help but notice the slightest touch of autumn in the air. The Mercy Lounge is one of those small intimate venues where everyone gets a shot at getting up close to the performers. Sort of like The End but much nicer.

It's one of those places where you can enjoy the taste of $3 Miller High Lifes while chatting with the chick at the merch stand who seems a little too buzzed for her own good. And you never know who you'll meet at these shows. The show started almost an hour late, so I shot the shit with this one guy about 90s alt-rock, Indiana, and upcoming concerts we wanted to see. All the while, he was doing his darnedest to convince me that this guy at the bar was the lead singer from the Black Keys.

Daniel Blumberg does his best Dinosaur Jr. impression.

And don't forget the ladies. Not everybody loves an indie girl, but I find it's hard to beat the sight of these chicks in their berets wearing black stockings and denim skirt clutching the neck of a Black and Tan bottle.

The band in question? Yuck, who have garnered critical acclaim for their take on 90s alternative rock, and for capturing the zeal of bright eyed youthful exuberance. Their set was marked with aggressive fuzzy guitar and loud feedback between songs.

There is an interesting dynamic to Yuck's sound. Crunchy rockers like "Georgia" capture the raw fist pumping excitement of Dinosaur Jr. while songs like "Suicide Policeman" and "Shook Down" see them prove positively proficient at channeling a band like Pavement.

Throughout the 12 song set, Yuck covered most of the album highlights as well as throwing a few surprises at us. "Milkshake," from their recently released 7" Milkshake/Shook Down single. We also got a look at a new song, "Soothe Me," which spotlights vocalist/guitarist Daniel Blumberg's pained cries in the main hook.

"Get Away," with its melodic guitar leads, is an obvious highlight. As was "Georgia," which is usually a spotlight for bassist Mariko Doi. I found it disappointing she didn't sing lead like on the album, with Blumberg tackling lead vocals while Doi was relegated to a bystander doing only backup vocals in the chorus. Guitarist Max Bloom stepped in to handle the shouty parts in the final chorus. They sound well together, but I really liked the arrangement on the album also. 

It all led up to set closer "Rubber," which smacks heavily of Sonic Youth. I wasn't a major fan of this song on the record, but I can't help but be absorbed by how the band rocks out like no tomorrow.

Mariko Doi delivers with her voice and her four strings.

The Stone Roses-ish "Sunday" was the only obvious hit missing from the setlist, and not surprisingly a small contingent of fans kept calling for that song throughout the night.

Finally, Bloom responded, "Sunday? It's fucking Wednesday." Blumberg dryly remarked to him that he gets a 7/10 for stage banter.

With all said, Yuck presents a unique quandary as to what it is that makes them so critically acclaimed. The musicianship, other than maybe lead guitarist Max Bloom, is nothing extraordinary and Yuck wasn't all that energetic on stage. I had to wonder if this is a case of a band getting noticed just out of mimicking their influences very closely.

Then I thought: nah, the songwriting itself is just too damn good.