Rovo Rovo again, but from the other side.

Is there anything worse than being the first band on a Monday night three band bill? To their credit, Found Objects didn't complain; while their low-impact glitchtronica never quite engaged the audience, it made for an enjoyable background to conversation. Perhaps the band's rather static performance was partly to blame, for with their lack of movement, it was occasionally difficult to remember that a band, not a CD, was playing. The band seemed determined to give a perfect performance, when in fact a little judicious sloppiness might have helped them win the crowd.

I've got to hand it to them, though -- they seem determined to make a name for themselves. After their set ended, band-members went around the bar, giving a copy of their CD-R EP to anyone and everyone who seemed even slightly interested. I'm listening to it now, and it's actually quite good, pairing typical IDM sounds with insistent, almost gothy bass lines.

Zelienople had a clear advantage over Found Objects: the majority of the club's modest audience was apparently there to see them, and they were quite vocal in their appreciation. Known for relaxed, comfortably arty pop, Zelienople seemed determined to stake their claim on post-rock turf, turning to Brian Harding's clarinet for dissonance as much as for texture. Zelienople has no guitar -- bassist/vocalist Matt Christensen shares lead duties with Harding on clarinet and keys, while drummer Mike Weis provides anchoring rhythms. Though I felt their set could have been trimmed by about fifteen minutes -- it got a bit dull in the middle -- their finale was very strong. An avalanche of chaotically beautiful noise, the song shifted its focus repeatedly, ending in a dissonant wash of noise that dwindled to a modest bass figure.

A few Rovo fans had begun filtering into the club -- which was good, as much of Zelienople's crowd left after their performance.

At a few minutes past midnight, the seven-member-strong Rovo, led by guitarist Yamamoto Seiichi, hit the Bottle stage to the applause of a small but dedicated throng of fans. After taking up their respective instruments, the group set about creating a spooky ambient drone, which sauntered and shuttered around for the better part of five minutes as each member joined the fray. Soon after, the drone exploded into a prog-jazz-tribal jam, the electronic violinist sawing wildly while two percussionists pounded away at their respective kits and Seiichi wrenched odd sounds from his axe. In the live arena, Rovo are a much more user-friendly outfit, eschewing the brawny, clattering textures of their excellent debut CD, Imago, for a drone-inflected, free jazz-inspired sound. Throughout the performance, the band constantly shifted dynamics and rhythmic structures to suit their whim. As a result, subsequent numbers (whose names are unknown to me) recalled, in many respects, John McLaughlin’s Shakti project or The Afro Celt Sound System as opposed to the liquid digital funk of Imago or the calculated bombast of The Boredoms, Seiichi’s main musical project. While not exactly the evening that I had expected, the Rovo live experience proved to be rewarding for those who approached it with an open mind and open ears. Oh, and having a few drinks in you didn’t really hurt either.

Article by Jason Jackowiak and George Zahora. Photos by George Zahora.