Joyce's POPPED! Diary for Thursday, April 12

Bands I Caught: Fursaxa, Fan of Friends, War on Drugs, King Kong Ding Dong

Venue: The Parlor

Tucked away on South Broad next to "You, Me, and Wee" (which, incidentally, seems like the perfect venue for another POPPED! band, Pissed Jeans), the Parlor is a surprisingly cozy venue, despite its unremarkable storefront.

I slid through the front door and followed klip//collective's electric-blue polka dots of light back to the main room, where I caught Fursaxa and her last song, "Russian Snow Queen".

Fursaxa
Eyes closed, swaying slightly, she looped her powerful, gorgeous voice over some pounding scales. The flickering background video added to her air of haunting melancholy.

Set over, I did a little exploring. The Parlor really is like your grandma's parlor (if she were a hipster, of course). Warm wood floors, lots of make-out nooks, a squishy sofa with a hand-patched quilt, and show-goers splayed out comfortably in front of the stage. Rock and roll never felt so homey.

Fan of Friends
Being a twang fan, I got excited when I saw the band's banjo, cello, and violin, but after the first few songs, I felt a little disappointed. Joshua Marcus's Iron and Wine-esque moan appeals, (as does former Ladyfester, Harmony Thompson's, gorgeous violin) but some songs felt slow and sleepy, with not a lot of variation. Towards the end of the set, though, things picked up with the romping "Larks", the sweetness of "Brakelight Eyes" and the whistling chorus of "Time". If you're a fan of Calexico, Freakwater and Tarnation, Fan of Friends is worth a listen.

In between sets, DJ Mental Feeling was spinning a tasty mix of rock, funk, and country, including Poco, Link Wray, Terry Allen, and my favorite crazy badass, David Allen Coe.

War on Drugs
Promising sound check... monster guitar riffs and a rockabilly "one-two" microphone yelp from the lead singer. Things kicked off with some fuzz-pop and shimmery chords. A squeal of harmonica, some locomotive chug, and then Dylanesque vocals kicked in. They were an interesting mix of songs—some straight-ahead pop/rock, some chiming guitar with a bluesy underbelly—and the occasional spacey wall of sound. The room filled with the band's clearly devoted fans.

King Kong Ding Dong
File these guys under "anxiety music". Screaming guitar lines, lots of reverb, a thick, thumping drum beat, and a lead singer whose voice is piercing strange: it all adds up to one psychedelic road trip. Remember that scene in Requiem for a Dream? (You know the one.) This would be the perfect backdrop...music to scream to. And the lead singer did, repeatedly.

I can appreciate music as performance art, as experimentation, but only in small doses. So I headed out into the night. I glanced over my shoulder as I was leaving. From the wall, four-foot-long bright red lips tossed me a kiss.