One Night in Ballard & The World's Your Oyster - Multi-Concert Review by Dave Liljengren, et al.

[Seattle, Wa, USA, 11/6/99] -- All I wanted was to hear Spyglass. If you're not familiar with this Seattle quintet, you should make a point to get out and hear them. In March of this year, Spyglass released an excellent, self-titled, debut ep. Effectively capturing the band's expansive take on song-based prog and bittersweet space rock, the disc got substantial airplay on Seattle's KCMU. John Richards, KCMU morning host and Pandomag.com columnist, called it "one of the stronger debuts in the Northwest this year."

In the months since the release of the ep, Spyglass has performed numerous club shows-- and a stellar set on KCMU's Live Room-- exhibiting increasing confidence and a more adept stage presence each time out. The rhythm section has gotten tighter, the guitarists bolder, and singer Barbara Trentalange has become more visibly at ease as the center of attention.

"Barbara Trentalange is not only an amazing vocalist and stage presence," said Pando columnist, Reef Valmont, "but she wears a killer, red, hips-like-Cinderella, dress with kick-ass boots underneath and deserves recognition for that. Tonight I was wearing, for some reason, red pants, probably in honor of Barbara's dress. I've had dreams about that dress. Bad, bad dreams."

As I said, all I wanted was to hear Spyglass, but I wouldn't hear them, at least not right away, and I would hear much more before the night was through. I arrived early at Ballard's Tractor Tavern and rather than watch musicians set up amplifiers, a sight I've seen hundreds-- no, thousands-- of times, I stepped into the unseasonably warm night to smoke a cigarette outside.

At this point, Pandemonium's photographers, Damien M. Jones and Justin Dylan Renney, along with Brian, designer of the artwork on the upcoming Veer disc, appeared and told me that Pandemonium's Loveless contingent-- Reef Valmont, John Richards, and Tiffany Richards-- were only one hundred feet away at the Lock & Keel where they'd gone to hear The Drop. The photographers went into the Tractor as I walked across the street to the Lock & Keel to say hello and hear a little of the Drop.

When I arrived, the three Loveless ones were on the three barstools closest to the band, which was still setting up. Reef, John, and Tiffany greeted me with such exuberance that I was moved to buy them a round of drinks. (This may have been planned on their part, but I'm easily flattered, so out came the wallet.) The Lock & Keel has the best bar dog I've ever seen - Otis. He is a huge-- 150 lbs at least-- fawn mastiff with impeccable black mask and strong black highlighting in the wrinkles on his forehead. He was friendly, sniffing me benignly while I scratched his enormous head. He looked a little overweight, but that's probably an occupational hazard for friendly bar dogs. Patrons feed them hunklets of high-fat bar food to win them over.

John Richards was less impressed with the dog than I was. "As we arrived at the Lock And Keel," John said, "the dog made a fast-paced break for the door. Tiffany was last in and thus responsible for capturing him. Everyone in the bar shouted 'don't let the dog out Tiffany!' and the look on her face was priceless as she tackled this monster and dragged him back inside, covered in drool."

The Drop were phenomenal. "Apart from Chris and Sugar being decked out like rock stars in plastic pants and bacofoil shirts," said Reef, "the most memorable thing about this Drop performance was that it felt like a precursor to something very substantial. I doubt you'll be catching The Drop at The Lock And Keel for much longer. They are ready to move on from The World's Smallest Stage and establish some kind of local following around town, everything is in place and it's time to kick it. Plus I think that everyone in the bar realised just what a singing voice Chris has. It's incredible, it gives you chills, it's a yard of blond girls."

As I was getting ready to leave, Big Pete, the toughy from Seattle band Tuffy, arrived. He is a large man. I thanked him for contributing to Reef's column. We shook hands and he crushed my knuckles like rotting walnuts in a blacksmith's vise.

Pete would later say, "What a thrill it was to meet the mastermind behind Pando. In the world of rock and roll, it's not difficult to be big and imposing. Have you ever noticed that almost all band members (except Tad and those Screaming Trees guys) are pretty damn small? Sorry Dave, I didn't mean to crush your girlie-man hand. I guess I was just kind of upset that I missed the free round of drinks..."

I left the four of them and headed back to the Tractor. At that point, I did get to hear Spyglass and enjoyed them immensely. Spyglass has an extraordinarily strong rhythm section for a new band and it electrifies their performances. Even on their more fluid songs, or perhaps especially on them, bassist Clay Martin (Reef Valmont calls him "Clay Martini") and drummer Barry Shaw provide the rock solid base from which guitarists David Einmo and John Roth launch their exploratory salvos of riffage. Trentalange's appeal as a vocalist emanates from a keen sense of restraint. Building volume slowly and accentuating every syllable, Trentalange's lissome, sinuous, phrasings have bluesy shadings and a saxophone-like elasticity which make her sound like a jazz singer expanding rock's sonic vocabulary. The crowd loved Spyglass, and their career seems to be coming along nicely.

When Spyglass was over, I was overcome by the unbright, but unstoppable, conviction that I should drive to Belltown and the Crocodile to see Imperial Teen. I stopped by the Lock & Keel once more to find that the Loveless crowd hadn't moved a centimeter.

"And boy were we happy to see Dave again!," said John. "We were out of drink tickets once more and I had flashbacks of his priest collar from the weekend before. The High Priest Of Drinks lived up to his rep and with a flash of the wallet, another round magically appeared next to us!"

I bid them adieu and headed for the Croc. I was the third from the last person let in to this sold out show. Saltine, led by former Posie and occasional REM-er Ken Stringfellow, was on stage at the time. Saltine rocks. Their live set is really coming together. Exploring the rougher, more forceful edges of power pop, Saltine has a fair amount in common with Amazing Disgrace-era Posies. Stringfellow announced that Saltine was going into the studio next week and the crowd clapped uproariously.

The Croc was so hot and crowded, however, that I decided I didn't want to wait for Imperial Teen. At the time it seemed like a good idea to go back to Ballard and hear Jon Auer, Seattle's other former Posie, so I could do a Pepsi challenge with former Posies. As I was leaving the Crocodile, I ran into Ruston Mire's Brian Naubert, who said that RM-- featuring an all new lineup-- would have an album out in December. He didn't want to comment on the Saltine show, but said his new record would be very good indeed.

Getting back to Ballard, I parked and walked past the Lock & Keel. The bar stool trio hadn't moved.

"By this point the Snakebites, Mac n' Jacks and copious amounts of dogasaurus drool had taken their toll," said Reef. "Even though we could hardly walk, I was soon to become the Lock And Keel hero of the night. When I went into the bathroom at the end of The Drop's 3-hour set, the urinal was flooding over with water that was still shooting out of the pipes, and it had already cascaded under the door and hit the pool tables area. One of the barmaids ran in, told me to 'put away the business' because it was distracting her and tried to fix things by hitting the urinal switch over and over. She failed miserably and left to get help. Remembering my movie training, I walked up to the urinal, eyed it carefully as water reached my ankles, and gave it a swift Jet-Li flat-hand punch. The water stopped. I finally got to piss, pulling out Little Reef just as four Lock And Keel employees - all female - ran in with mops and wrenches. Everyone in town has now seen The People's Piece."

I got back in time to hear some of Marc Olsen's set. He's a bona fide songwriter and puts on a great show. The material from his recent CD, didn't ever... hasn't since has a muted, neo-trad feel. It's a great record, loaded with songs that amount to mind-blowing works of art, and his live shows tend to be even stronger, showcasing his electric ambitions, his incredible backing band, and the elements of his onstage persona which are slightly more raucous than what comes through on the record. The Rocket has reported that Olsen's band from the mid-nineties, Sage, is planning a few reunion shows for December.

When Olsen finished, I headed back over to the Lock & Keel. I suspected the Pando crew had been catheterized by this time so they wouldn't have to get up to urinate or harass the plumbing ever again.

"Actually, " said John, "I did go back to the bathroom following Reef's heroic saving-of-the-WC. Sadly, I got so distracted by all the graffiti on the walls relating to Little Reef that I broke the urinal a second time and rather than tell the staff and get help, I ran from the bathroom screaming like a little girl. Thank God I didn't do something really stupid like fall off my barstool and land on Dogasaurus."

"The Pando photographers tried to get us to go to see John Auer," John continued, "but we had already seen him at Hatties Hat drinking, eating, and talking on his cell phone with that sweet-sounding voice he has."

"I don't know if he was distracted by his own sweet sounding voice on his cell-phone at Hatties Hat," said Reef, "but for the first time since I can remember, Jon Auer didn't wink at me. I left feeling strangely empty, and all I can say is this - bring back the wink, Jon!"

Leaving my scatalogically-obsessed comrades yet again, I returned to the Tractor to finish up my night with Jon Auer's set. Auer's oeuvre with his current band is somewhat softer than Stringfellow's is with Saltine, but it's no less entertaining. On songs like "Perfect Size," Auer explores hookish, harmony-driven power pop and comes back with a winner. An album from him has been rumored for a while, but no definitive word has come through the pipeline.

On my way to the car to go home, I stopped by the Lock & Keel and knew exactly where to find my compadres. "The only moment of movement towards the end of the night," said Reef, "was when John fell off his barstool and landed on the dog. This is not made up. I couldn't make up stuff this good. I can't believe we made it home. Bar stool. Fall off. Dog."

"Considering that when we walked in we weren't very excited about the place," concludes John, "and considering that we all hated that goddam drool-covered dog, and considering the fact that the barstaff were the slowest in the Western World, it's amazing that we stayed there, glued to our stools, for the entire night. That is how much we care about free alcohol - I mean, local music."

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