Photos by Jim Bricker

Titus Andronicus

Friday night featured a four-band showcase at the new Walters (not on Washington) headlined by New Jersey indie-punk group Titus Andronicus, bringing their Brooklyn friends The So So Glos along on what they are calling the "Bring Back the Dudes" tour. Locals Chemistry and The Caldwell rounded out the evening.

First band up The Caldwell featured a slew of familiar faces of the Houston music scene playing their first gig ever. Fronted by vocalist/guitarist James Essary, who can also be seen supporting recent scene-stealer Adam Bricks, the band gave forth a solid effort with a set of originals that couldn't help but remind me a whole bunch of the Walkmen.

I guess if you're going to emulate a band, that's surely a good one to choose. The rest of the evening's entertainers were a tad on the louder and heavier side, but The Caldwell brought the perfect amount of noise to ease everyone into the night.

Photos by Torey Mundkowsky

On a less than steamy May evening, a packed house at Bayou Music Center waited patiently in a temperature more commonly associated with Bonnaroo or Dengue Fever. About 30 minutes later than expected burst another hot entity, Brandon Flowers, and the rest of The Killers. Suddenly the crowd did not care that they were on the verge of dehydration. This band came to please them, and pleased they would be.

Before Flowers and company started their set, New York-based openers The Virgins started right on time. They were less than impressive. Maybe they would sound better in a dingy Manhattan club, which would explain why greats like Sonic Youth, Lou Reed, and Iggy Pop have courted The Virgins as openers in the past.

Photos by Groovehouse

How will I laugh tomorrow when I can't even smile today?

That question served as the title to Suicidal Tendencies' third album, released 25 years ago. But for a while there at their gig at House of Blues on Monday night, the question on my mind was, "Will I see any smiles tonight?"

That's a bit of an exaggeration, I guess, but not by much. Crossover thrash shows are supposed to be wild and gnarly affairs. A decent crowd turned out for Suicidal's tour stop with fellow hardcore punk legends Sick of it All, but from the outset, the audience seemed oddly reserved. Maybe it was the sterile, decidedly non-punk venue, a collective Cinco de Mayo hangover or just a bad case of the Mondays, but whatever the reason, the crowd played hard to get all night.

The audience's hard-assed mood was most conspicuous during Sick of it All's set. I missed the night's opening salvo from Suicidal affiliates Waking the Dead, but I can't imagine they put the crowd to sleep. Nevertheless, Houston audiences can be tough and fickle for no apparent reason sometimes, and New York's hard-working hardcore heroes found themselves onstage facing one of Houston's toughest crowds of the year on Monday night.

Photos by Jim Bricker

George Clinton has strong ties to the city of Houston, which has been evident with the bounty of shows he's thrown our way over the past several years. It was only a matter of time before he brought his circus back to House of Blues, and Saturday Clinton and his band -- Parliament, Funkadelic, P-Funk, the Parliaments or whatever they're called these days -- started early and played late, satiating any and every paying customer's fix for the funk.

One thing that P-Funk (which is what I'm going to call them for this article) always does is bring the funk until they either get kicked offstage by the venue or simply run out of material. One thing they absolutely never do is start their show on time. With what's been described as a "hazy" backstage at a P-Funk show, it's no wonder they always take forever to come onstage.

That wasn't the case Saturday night, though, with the 9 p.m. start time finding all umpteen members of Clinton's troupe slowly parading their way into their positions behind either an instrument or one of the bevy of mike stands that crowded the right side of the stage. I guess there's a first time for everything.

Photos by Jim Bricker

"I don't deserve this!" Matt Skiba shouted, his veins pushing against his neck as he strained his voice, the crowd chanting along, nearly drowning out his band, Alkaline Trio. "No, I don't deserve this!"

Donning a pink cowboy hat and pink converse to match his pink guitar, offsetting his otherwise black garb, Skiba ended Alkaline Trio's 19-song set at House of Blues Friday night with the first song he ever wrote.

Though "'97" was written just after Skiba was caught with marijuana and subsequently placed on probation for 18 months, it seemed to have a different meaning Friday night. As he and his fans screamed at the top of their lungs, it felt as though Skiba was saying he doesn't deserve this. This type of reverence; this kind of following; this crowd of fans.

But ask any Alkaline Trio fan, and they'll all tell you the same thing: He does.

Photos by Jim Bricker

It's such a treat to see a band like Yo La Tengo perform at a club the size of Fitzgerald's, and that was clear during their headlining set on Thursday night. Sure, they play to hundreds more people at most of their other gigs, but anyone in attendance - including the band - could tell you we were the lucky ones.

We all knew headed into the show, billed as "An Evening With Yo La Tengo," was going to be a full dose of the New Jersey-based genre-bending trio. What wasn't known was how much the crowd was going to eat it up. The mostly thirtysomething audience featured more sets of glasses than I've ever seen at a show. These were music nerds in the best way imaginable.

Ira Kaplan, his wife Georgia Hubley and longtime bassist/auxiliary drummer James McNew proved that no matter what they brought to the incredibly attentive Houston crowd, it would be accepted wholeheartedly by everyone in the room.

Photos by Abrahan Garza

Maybe Peter Murphy should get arrested more often.

That may be a horrible thing to say, but if you had seen him at Numbers, you'd understand. This tour had been previously announced, but whether his March arrest in California for DUI and alleged drug possession has left the undead Bauhaus front man in need of money (probably not) or just happy to get out on the road and have something to do (likelier), his performance Friday night was the work of if not a man possessed, definitely a man with something to prove.

It was inspired, at the very least. Murphy was courtly, sinister, sometimes atop the drum riser, and more a little peeved when the sound crapped out halfway through. He also stated in no uncertain terms that the three musicians onstage with him were "not some copycat band." Hell, the way he wielded his illuminated "wand" that resembled a Maglite, maybe he was a little possessed.

Photos by Jason Wolter

The Black Crowes
House of Blues
April 26, 2013

Over the past nearly quarter-century, Chris Robinson's lyrics have shown no lack of religious imagery. Angels and devils exist side by side in the lines of his notebook, and various jubilees among congregations go off with fiery fervor. Not surprising, as their second album, The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion, was named for an actual old gospel hymnal.

So it's only fitting that last night's Black Crowes concert was a bit of Sunday-night church, a faith-restorer in how a great rock and roll show can come from a band extremely comfortable in its own skin (or feathers), and who draw from their musical influences without being slavish to them, creating something that is...well...Crowesian.

If fact, the Black Crowes (the band, not the Night's Watch from Game of Thrones) have an interesting career in 2013. They drop records sporadically -- live and in studio -- when it where it suits them on their own label. They do no press interviews, haven't had anything resembling a radio hit in ages, can go on hiatus for years and them come back with a rejiggered lineup, yet still have enough of a dedicated fanbase to sell out the nearly 1,200-capacity House of Blues on a Sunday night -- with dozens turned away at the ticket counter.

It was simply one of the best pure rock and roll shows I've seen in a quite awhile, and one of the finest I've seen from the band ever.

Photos by Marco Torres

Juicy J

Roads were flooded and freeway exits were blocked this past stormy Saturday night in Houston. None of these things mattered to a crowd that wrapped a line around Warehouse Live, and a majority of which wore tube tops, shorts and Jordans.

They were all here for Scoremore's Juicy J concert, which despite the storm packed Warehouse with every teenage twerk team member in the city, rain or shine. They came to do a job.

It almost reminded me of Mac Miller's "Blue Slide Park" tour crowd, except there were way more people fainting, puking and crying. Seriously, way too many people had one of those "I'm never drinking again" nights. At barely 9:30 p.m., the first three bathroom stalls were either splattered with vomit or had a girl hugging the toilet with the door wide open.

Photos by Jim Bricker

Foals

Thursday was quite the busy night in Houston, with most of the city's venues hosting national touring acts. Paramore and Gaslight Anthem were at the bigger rooms, but the real hot ticket was a sold-out showing of Foals and Surfer Blood at Fitzgerald's. It's been a while since both bands were in Houston, so crowd anticipation was thick throughout.