In the icy, forbidding winter, it's hard to trade a cozy night at home for a trip out to a show. You've gotta scrape off the car, put on dowdy winter boots, and once there, you'll probably spend too much money on cocktails when you could be drinking whatever's in the fridge instead. But I was really excited about the bill at a local underground venue last Friday, so I took a cat nap, bundled up, and headed over to check it out. It was a cozy, low-key affair, and best of all, it was warm, both in temperature and spirit. Show-goers nestled together on the couch and benches, and passed around chocolate and vanilla sandwich cookies.
We missed at least one act, but another was underway as we entered the almost reverentially silent room. It was Mock Syringa, led by a raven-haired beauty from Buffalo who sang in the most gorgeous, restrained way. In the small space, she commanded everyone's full attention - even the crack of a can opening was muffled, for fear of breaking the mood. The room erupted into applause after each delicate song.
Golden Ghost - Laura Goetz from Endicott - was my favorite of the evening. Her hollow-body was in the shop, so she slung on her friend Brendon Massei's guitar. With her glasses and sideswept bangs, winter boots, t-shirt and jeans, Goetz was completely unassuming, yet powerful (and fetching!). Her voice sounded soothing and strong through the scratchy microphone, and Massei, seated on the couch, belted out perfect harmonies to Goetz's one-woman songs.
Later, Pictish Trail (Johnny Lynch, all the way from Scotland) played a moody set, including a cover by the band Hot Chip. When Lynch's guitar cable started to peter out, Goetz jumped up and held the faulty thing in place, while Lynch continued to strum his acoustic guitar. From her spot crouched on the floor, and from his spot seated nearby, Goetz and Massei harmonized with Lynch.
Viking Moses closed the show in what felt like the perfect culmination to the camaraderie-filled evening. Massei played guitar and sang; Goetz joined him on keyboards, and Lynch added some electronic beats to the mix. Massei put so much of himself into the performance that you couldn't help but react. He crumpled up on the floor, wailed away (so that he hardly needed the mic), and perfectly embodied the spirit of the evening, in all its raw, honest emotion.