Yeek Yak Airforce Volta Do Mar Woke Up Falling

This evening promised an interesting variety of musical tones, as well as an interesting mix of bands -- the up-and-coming (sort of) local headliner, Woke Up Falling (they're actually from Portland), the "exotic other", Volta do Mar (oooh, Chicago band!), and the opener with a bizarre name, who's from god-knows-where. Good enough!

Yeek Yak Airforce turned out to be local, and turned out to be pretty interesting despite their goofball name. A three-piece with a bald singing bassist, they mined an interesting corner of the math-rock universe involving melodic basslines, skronky, angular guitar work, and rock-solid drumming. The aforementioned singing bassist has a high, keening wail of a voice, which provided a nice contrast to the chunky, angular music. The trio also were quite a sight: the diminutive, bearded guitarist hunched over his guitar with a glazed expression on his face, and the singer/bassist often hopped up and down, lurching this way and that, making all sorts of entertaining facial expressions. Although I'd never heard of the band, they seem to have a bit of a following already (either that or they just have lots of friends) -- there were a good 50 people watching them (as well as a few girls hollering out "Yeek Yak rocks!" after they finished their set, which sounded downright weird), which is quite impressive for an opening band on a Tuesday night. All in all, they were quirky, tight and entertaining, which is more than I could reasonably ask from a local opening band of whom I've never heard.

Up next was Volta do Mar, the Chicago band that most of the folks in the audience were there to see. Although I'd never heard anything by the band before this evening, I'd read several reviews of their new record, At the Speed of Light or Day, which veered from all-out worship of the group's complex math-rock to more reserved assessments that substituted phrases like "self-indulgent" for the more glowing reviews' "brilliant". The most immediately striking thing about Volta do Mar was their stage setup -- drummer Tony Ceraulo was set up at the front of the stage with his back to the audience, and the other three members of the band (guitarist Phil Taylor, six-string bassist Mike Baldwin, and five-string bassist Jeff Wojtysiak -- that's right, two bassists, not a four-string in sight) surrounded him in a circle. Although it was rather odd at first, the reason for the setup was immediately obvious -- the music that these guys play is so utterly complex and multipartite that any kind of increased communication between band members is only going to help matters. Now, I've seen plenty of math rock bands in my day -- some that were enthralling and some that were total snooze-fests -- but I must confess that I've never seen anything quite like Volta do Mar. Each player in this band is such an utterly amazing musician that it's virtually mind-boggling. Although guitarist Taylor takes center stage (both musically and physically), both bassists engage in mind-numbing instrumental gymnastics, which can be so complex as to be hard to follow. For his part, Taylor alternates between pretty fingerpicking, complex arpeggiated phrases and good ol' fashioned stinky-ass solos. The band is a lot of fun to watch - their setup ensures that they're constantly playing off of each other, throwing visual cues and generally making sure that they're all on the same page. Baldwin and Wojtysiak exhibited looks of intense concentration one minute, and the next were playing some impossible part while looking no more concerned than if they were just standing there, picking their respective noses. Taylor, on the other hand, had the most goofiest open-mouthed grin on his face that I've ever seen -- like he was getting his first blow job in ten years or something. Anyway, he looked really happy to be up there shredding. Although they were 95 percent instrumental, the band threw in some really interesting vocal hooks now and then. Sometimes Taylor stepped up to the mic to sing a few lines (at which point it became quite obvious why the band is mostly instrumental), but on a few tunes, the band employed some great group shouting to emphasize their more dramatic stops and starts.

So now comes the question: is Volta do Mar's music dizzyingly brilliant and amazing, or merely an exercise in high-minded wankery? Well, to tell the truth, I can see where both camps are coming from. It's hard not to be taken in by the group's sheer collective instrumental prowess; each of their songs comprises something like 18 different parts (OK, more like eight or nine, but still), which they blend together seamlessly without inducing any uncomfortable fidgeting in their audience. But after a while, it really all starts to sound the same. Once you get past the members' jaw-dropping technical abilities, you notice the fact that they don't really seem to have any actual songs -- what they call songs are merely parts piled on top of one another without any real sense of direction or flow. While it's all quite fascinating to watch, I doubt that a single person in the audience came away with one of the songs stuck in his head -- the band just doesn't bother to slow down for long enough to introduce anything like a catchy melody into the mix. This is pretty much the across-the-board criticism of math-rock as a whole -- that it's all precision and no soul. While a few bands manage to transcend this notion and create works both dizzyingly complex and fraught with emotion, these are few and far between, Volta do Mar hasn't quite made it yet. Far be it from me to suggest that they "dumb down" their music, but I'd propose that something a little less flashy and a little more catchy might stick to the ribs a bit more than the flights of fancy that the group purveyed this evening.

Regardless of which camp you fall into, it's hard to deny that a band like Volta do Mar is a damn tough act to follow. No band on the planet would be able to one-up these guys in the technicality or tightness department, so one would have to veer to the side of pure, unfettered emotion in order to make an impression after the technicolor fireworks that Volta do Mar presented. On a good night, that's just what Portland foursome Woke Up Falling are capable of doing. I've seen them play several dynamite shows that left me quite impressed with their visceral performances, as well as with the quality of their songs. Tonight, however, there was something lacking. Perhaps it had something to do with breaking in a new drummer, or perhaps the band was merely tired, but the fire that I've seen in past performances was not there. Their old drummer had a style akin to a primal thud -- very different from the more finessed playing of their new guy -- which somehow translated into a heightened urgency that was missing this evening. Because of singer/guitarist Gordie Muscutt's anguished vocals, the band will undoubtedly get pegged with the emo tag -- which is, as usual, only partially accurate. They play a style of rock that bridges the gap between '90s Northwest indie (think 764-HERO or Built to Spill) and British mope-rock, with the added bonus of a loud, pummeling wall o' guitar. Muscutt sings his tales of romantic frustration in an appropriately marble-mouthed fashion, and his yelps and cries mesh seamlessly with the band's guitar attack. Woke Up Falling is a good band. They write good songs, play them with conviction and play them loud. This makes me happy. Tonight, however, they were missing that je ne sais quoi that elevates a good band over the hump to "great band" status. However, I've seen them pull it off before, and I have no doubt that they will do so again.

Article and photos by Jeremy Schneyer