Hello and I'm sorry. That was a very long two month hiatus that I was not intending. For context, let me break down what's been going on a bit before I get this blog started. I a) have been working on filming shows alongside Nyle from Dead Mothers Collective, putting together documentaries of various shows from the past two months, b) started school again with the busiest and most suicide-inducing schedule yet, c) started playing shows with Washed and refuse to write blog posts about shows I play in, and d) recently got into a car accident so have had zero motivation or time to come back to this.
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| photos courtesy of Savannah. |
But here I am. I have blog posts written for the 07/07/2023 show (Friend Show Part 2) as well as the amazing I Want a Pet Rat Festival, but since the videos that I want to post alongside them are taking a little longer to complete than anticipated, I've decided I'd step out of my obsession with chronology and write some blogs about the shows I've been to since, considering it's been over two months since my last post. You know, send me stuff to my email [ fosterhildingmusic@gmail.com ] or DM me on Instagram.
Anyway, I digress. This show in particular was nothing short of spectacular. I caught 3/4ths of this crew on Phoenix the day before, kicking off Vs Self's short Arizona leg of their tour in the new Ground Zero Studios (this blog incoming alongside videos soon[ish... eventually]). I drove up from Phoenix and made it to The Hive less than an hour before doors, securing my spot in the ever-growing line beyond the corners of the building. I knew it was going to be a warm, sweaty, emotional night. It was.
Taking the stage with tender care and unquenchable ferocity, seahorsechoke broke my heart for the second night in a row. I had pre-gamed their glittering and sexily emo EP on the way up that day, fully prepared for what I could not be prepared for. Alejandro's smattering china hits splashed over the desperate twinkling and watery riffs of Sterling's fragile guitar. There were no pedals in sight--just the purest intensity of melancholic dissonance made manifest. Elliot's bass was subtle, for lack of a better word, but was the one thing grounding the slashing despair of Noah's pained vocals to the heartbeat of their sound.
Their moving and expansive riffs seeded not just tears in the face of every audience member, but a passion that required full-body focus: the goal of any good emo band. In my notes for this night I wrote "perfect in their own right," and I think that really does mean something here. While in the moment I did mean that they had mastered the tendencies of their genre and their instruments, I think there is something to be said about the untouchable perfection of performance. They could not be picked apart--no showgoer could, and by being on that stage alongside an emo monger such as Vs Self, they were ideal.
Time Apart is Arizona's definitive skramz anthem. The audience practically begged for it, and it was still received like a bullet in the brain--the universal weight of an unheard classic. seahorsechoke is in a league of their own. Stream everything went to shit like I thought it would and you didn't believe me.
Troubled Minds was up next with the sharpness to be expected of crunchy modern pop punk. Even one man short (James was unable to attend this show), they bounced between accented bursts of yellowing chords and slightly J-rock inspired riffs to ignite the flame of The Hive's little room into life. I'd left between seahorsechoke and their set, and when I came back I was greeted by a thick wall of heat, sweat, and (do I even need to mention it?) B.O.
Matt's guitar ping-ponged between inklings of twinklings (lol) and power chord-wrought passages. Riley's echoing snare snapped from one side of the room to the other in great bounding ribbons underneath the fishy and unbelievably deep bass, courtesy of Ryan. Stream Troubled Minds on Unquiet Live.
Like my Sad Dad blog, I feel as if I'm completely unauthorized to write this. In terms of skramz and emo I know little to none. I've absolutely listened to songs of Vs Self here and there, but still am fully underqualified. That said, I think this weekend had ignited a new taste for emo in me that was definitely not there before. What I want to say is I'm sorry, and I hope I do not offend or completely misinterpret the goal of your sound--above all else, it was lovely.
A power trio in the truest sense of the term, Aren't We Amphibians started their set with the iconic and (probably the birth-piece of modern midwest-ish emo) sweet intro of American Football's Never Meant. Joshua's (brace yourselves because I'm gonna fucking say it again) twinkling guitar riffs were like waterfalls of noise, harkened in by Brandon's few little beatings of tom--the screaming of nostalgic despair ever present. But, more than anything, there is a control that they have over their sound. Every sharp and adventurous guitar riff and Tyler's dirty bass gouges are collapsed into the vigor of these pointed moments--all made complete with each cymbal hit that got sniped upon birth with Brandon's quick muting hands.
In the few moments where all else was shaved away, Tyler's bass was so low and disturbed it bordered doom--but paired with guitar that embraces you like a lost high school friend and drums that reassure your ever-weary steps, they built into oblivions of your best and saddest math rock delusions. Audiences learned immediately to expect nothing but the cleanest and most despairing from Aren't We Amphibians. I turned to friends countless times with nothing but absolute disgust (the good kind) on my face. I chanted the night's refrain: TAKE THIS TO HEART countless times.
What's most impressive about Aren't We Amphibians is that they are masters of their own strangeness. While their time signatures bent and looped to awkward positions, they always maintained a steady, necessary pulse. This is a sign of masterful modern composition that can only compare to the likes of Animals As Leaders (weird comparison, I know, but the closest I have). When you can create interesting, groundbreaking riffs that are still danceable and pulsating, you've accomplished something special. Stream Emergency, Exit.
When I saw Vs Self for the first time the previous night, I was completely floored by their setup: drummer, guitarist/vocalist, tambourin(ist?)/vocalist. That's it. No bass, no second guitar, nothing. But, sure enough, I realized immediately that the purity of their sound and the needful emotion that drove it were enough to transcend any need for traditionality. Dante's gurgling screams and the impassioned voice of Vs Kyle blended in beautiful harmony, however discordant and pained. Every snap of Frankie's snare cracked perfectly under the blur of crying green guitar, a constant stream of jumping and breaking knees, his rain-slashing ride and cymbal like a machine gun of sentiments left unsaid. Vs Kyle's waves of riffing candy soaked deep into the night.
I almost feel silly saying this, because it's typically such an antiquated instrument (at least so incredibly underused), but Dante's tambourine handling was so pristine and professional--sounding crisp as he smashed against the broad of his beating heart. Vs Self, really, is the sound of the rejection of complacency, to not go so easily into the hands of fate and others but to hold onto your sincerity regardless. The cool breeze swept under the swing of the door and bit my ankles in the heat-soaked room. I found myself wondering after ever song how they sounded so incredibly full at all times?
There's something about emo that exists in opposition to itself. Vs Self exists in an endless and lovely dichotomy--between the harsh, heavy, screaming, blasting, powerful smacks of riff and snare and tambourine and scream, and the fragility, softness, tenderness, care, and love of their powerful lyricism and Vs Kyle's delicate and expertly designed guitar passages. These are people and you can almost feel them here more than ever. Stream Frances.
I promise I haven't forgotten about this blog. I have so many great things coming for it here, but the weeks have been going by like days. I tried to make this one extra epic for you for the time being. Please have patience, and I'm so sorry. Thank you all for reading, this show was nothing short of phenomenal and I want the bands presented to know that they would be welcomed back into Flagstaff with open, sweaty arms at any time. Please keep going to shows. Keep supporting live, local music.
-Foster
Continuing Dead Mothers Collective's live series, check out Misanthropic, Thra, and Face Pulp's new videos on YouTube.
See seahorsechoke with Sawza, Poontlicker, So Concerned, Blvc Svnd, and Pr3tty Suff3ring tomorrow night, October 7th.
See Aren't We Amphibian in a slew of shows across the country this month.
See Troubled Minds on their upcoming tour.
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