David Singer Desert City Soundtrack Red Animal War Settlefish

Local act Michael went on first and played four or five songs that could have passed for any number of other songs by Deep Elm bands. The only things they had going for them were volume and a general sense of tightness. Only one song really registered -- a number slated to appear on the next edition of the label's Emo Diaries comp series, fittingly enough.

David Singer followed shortly thereafter, packing nothing but an electric guitar and a sheepish grin. Singer chatted a little with the crowd and played a few solo songs, passionately plucking away like a John Mayer for the black-rimmed glasses set. Things went much more smoothly when various members of other bands backed him during his more full-bodied piano-based material.

I spent most of the first two sets enjoying Nuci Space's cozy little library, where about half of the attendees were poring over the assortment of musical and philosophical works. Oddly enough, Singer's sounds were actually more palatable from there, filtering in at what would be a comfortable listening level on my car stereo.

The party started in earnest when Desert City Soundtrack fired away with their ravenous post-hardcore soul bearing. Their sound mix was a little rough around the edges, but the vocalists fit together like a fastball smacking a catcher's mitt. DCS provided the most dynamic and whole-heartedly "emo" performance of the night, forming a belated lost link between Moss Icon and Mineral and doing everything expected of a band from hardcore's red-headed step-genre. Where their songwriting was lacking, they compensated with screams that could have ripped the hair off of a nearby hamster. They were also the first act to speak about the tour's cause -- raising awareness of (and a little money for, assuming band members didn't outnumber the crowd at the other shows) suicide prevention -- sharing a brief and pertinent anecdote.

I was planning on leaving the show early, but it was going to be a tough call; I figured Red Animal War, the act I most eagerly awaited, would be the last band to play. In fact, I was in luck -- the Dallas four-piece began setting up right after Desert City's set ended. I had never actually heard them before, but was prepared to be amazed after reading review upon review heralding them as this decade's equivalent to Jawbox. I was hooked by their second song. Red Animal War's brainy song structures, Hot Water Music-esque rolling basslines and malicious fretboard melees certainly justified the hype, making them easily the best band of the evening. It's ridiculous that such talent is being kept on the down low while the Taking Back Sundays of the world swing the emo pendulum away from this once-popular brand of textured songwriting. Red Animal War is slowly recapturing the post-punk flag from the tilted-trucker-cap-wearing poseurs, and they definitely earned this jaded music writer's stamp of approval. Also, their bassist looks like James Iha and the lead singer sports the best emo beard since the aforementioned Hot Water Music's No Idea days.

After Red Animal War declared a cease-fire, I was ready to call it a night, but my girlfriend insisted on catching part of Settlefish's set. I was a bit curious as to why a rookie band was playing so late in the show, and had little faith that they'd be anything more than typical modern rock fare, but they were Italian, and my girlfriend, who lived in Italy for a few years, had been communicating with them in their native tongue throughout the night, so she felt some sort of Euro-loyalty or something. In any event, she couldn't have made a better call. Settlefish were not a knock-off but a very intriguing band, especially as this was their first tour ever, European or Stateside. The lead singer might as well have been Cedric Bixler's long lost Italian twin, matching the ex-At the Drive-In frontman's epic wail, frenzied mic lasso action and choice in hairstyle. Fortunately, the band's trebly post punk wasn't Xeroxed from the ATDI songbook, or any other songbook for that matter.

I left after a couple of songs in the interest of getting home in time for more than four hours of sleep; besides, I had already seen final act Brandtson a bazillion times and had no plans of going for number bazillion and one anytime soon.

Snicker all you want about the irony of an Emo Bands Against Suicide tour -- I know I did -- but Deep Elm put together a heck of a lineup for this tour, and all the parties involved should be applauded for a night free of rock star pretension or lengthy delays. Such affordable, high quality, bullshit-free entertainment proves that there is indeed hope for the world, or at least for rock and roll.

Article and photos by Phillip Buchan.