Broncho - Winter - Faron Young Cannibals -- DC9 - Jun 25 2016

by John Miller

Faron Young Cannibals - I am reminded immediately of one of David's recent reviews and how aggressive crowd work can sometimes have quite the negative effect as Faron Young Cannibals meanders through their first two songs. Pandering is best used on believers; you preach to the choir. Faron Young Cannibals are so far removed from any of that; laid back, much like their music. Their nonchalant attitude resonates with the crowd. Normally I might knit pick about small things; introductions, not knowing what or where the set is going, a lack of crowd work but it's as if I have somehow been infested with this even keeled demeanor through osmosis. Though there are times when it's too easy; some of the structures are obvious. Then Faron Young Cannibals begin to harmonize like The Beach Boys and those simple structures are quickly forgotten. There is twang here; they would fit well on an unofficial King of the Hill soundtrack. 

     

Winter - Winter begins and the floor begins to bounce in rhythm with the bass. The effect work by the guitars more than makes up for a lack of keyboards as those missing layers make their way through between the solos (to be honest they don't need them). There are elements of My Bloody Valentine though Winter reminds me more of both Moon King and Youth Lagoon; hazy, blue, and at times, surprisingly loud. The bass is exceptional; it's bright, lots of mid range. And as the bassist begins climbing about the PA like a jungle gym, it’s obvious where that energy comes from. After so many failed attempts, the bassist’s acrobatics finally elicits a response from the crowd.

Broncho - Broncho closes tonight. They have brought with them an interesting set up; full length mirrors and a smoke machine. It's like Enter the Dragon in here except without the whole kung-fu. Supporting their latest release Double Vanity, Broncho is an interesting mix previous two bands tonight; there are elements of Americana and significant effects. It's on the slower side, elements of prog; exploration. The second piece ends with the guitar working through this weird, cloudy mess and suddenly switches gears as the third piece begins; stuttering, strange and significantly faster. The vocals are something, Ryan Lindsey has this nasally, Midwest thing going on. It's as if Tom Haverford has somehow found his way from Pawnee Indiana to Washington DC by way of Broncho. I'm even hearing some Mark Knopfler too. The bass is fuzzy. It fits well with the smoke that has enveloped the front of the stage. Their compositions are duplicitous; they begin approachable but as the time passes the songs start to take shape, becoming these snake like beasts, sliding, slithering, exploring, and surprising. Even as the room goes dark, the crowd swells and the floors continue to bow.