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Lushbox, Captain Howdy, Aerialuxe
Review by Chris Wagner
The respectable crowd was only slightly fashionably late for this installment of The Zone Monday at the Grand Emporium. An encouraging sign; for a while, some of those Women in Rock Mondays were, shall we say, sparsely attended. Thankfully, each band showed their appreciation with spirited performances.
Lushbox started off the evening with their loose, edgy pop-punk. I hadn't seen them in a while (not since before their surprise coup at this year's Klammies), so my curiosity was piqued; I was looking forward to seeing how their sound had evolved from the potential I first witnessed in that Midtown basement not so long ago. Since then, the band has tightened up their delivery without becoming robotic, which serves the songs well. Lushbox is a subdued bunch onstage (no lurching around the stage or high-jumping, not that it would fit their style anyway) who tend to let the music do the talking for them. Tonight was no exception: despite impending laryngitis, Brianne Grimmer easily traded back and forth vocally with Brad Huhmann, bouncing between their heartfelt pleas and drunken party anecdotes. Brad confidently steered his guitar melodies around and through the fuzzed-out choruses created by his bandmates, who provided heavy doses of indie-rock dynamics to support his meanderings. The only downside may have been the initial mix, which rendered Brad's vocals nearly inaudible for the greater portion of the set; still, it would have taken more than that to derail Lushbox, and the crowd showed its appreciation accordingly (note: check out their new five-song EP, Despues de la Operacion Sere una Niña, to hear more).
Lushbox
With regards to the second act, my guess is that the most common sentence used to describe Captain Howdy goes something like, "Camille doesn't give a fuck". This balls-out (literally?) attitude may be the band's biggest strength. Musically speaking, the Captain leans way toward the grrrrl-ish end of the rock gene pool: trashy guitars, pounding rhythms, and a bratty, Catholic-schoolgirl-gone-bad delivery; perhaps not the most original approach, but in this case, Camille Hendren's antics spice things up enough to turn clichés into assets. Bad-girl/whips-and-chains/Lolita-esque lyrics and Ray's Playpen paraphernalia aside, it's inarguable that she brings what many bands in Kansas City seem to have dismissed as unnecessary: stage presence. The fact is, this band looks like they actually like being on stage. This is what makes Captain Howdy more than the sum of its parts. They're kinda like a car wreck: even if you're horrified, you can't help but rubberneck. Besides, I'm sure Camille wouldn't have it any other way.
Rounding off the evening was Aerialuxe, who came, saw, and represented with a loud, early-'90's-ish British electronic guitar-pop blend (Siouxsie/Catherine Wheel/4AD comparisons come to mind) to a by now better than average audience. With the aid of Janette Chastain's pure, breathy singing (I hate to use the word ethereal, but…), my ear kept landing on The Sundays with a healthy measure of high-decibel rock amplification behind them. The uncommon use of a second bass guitar in a rhythm-guitar capacity provided a welcome sonic diversion, as did the liberal wash of keyboards which filled in any unused spaces. Aerialuxe creates a dense, layered sound that pursuades, rather than forces, one to listen; it's the kind of thing that, even while it's blasting in your ears, you can feel comfortable with sitting back and letting it take you somewhere. I'd be interested in seeing how they translate this live approach to the studio.
--Chris Wagner
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