his winter proved to be a rather dead season for noteworthy concerts. Fortunately, spring thaw has unleashed a flood of artistic activity. In the past two weeks, three killer local bands marked the release of long-awaited albums with a couple of festive performances. And of course, what would a Salt Lake City show be without some signature inter group mingling? See if you can spot all of the instances of incestuous transgression.

Tolchock Trio kicked things off with a May 3rd performance at the Urban Lounge. Everything about the night was carefully planned, right down to silk-screen quality graphics of posters promoting the show. Oliver Lewis, Dan Thomas and Ryan Fedor beamed like proud parents, cradling their Tiny Hand and cherishing precious remaining moments with freshly packaged offspring before a bittersweet farewell.

Their patriarchal love was infectious. Even those unfamiliar with the band’s hyperactive garage-rock sound couldn’t help but feel privileged to finally get in on the new sounds.

The following Saturday marked a return to the Urban Lounge for more CD-release fun. Only this time, we were unwillingly thrust into a “Bizarro” simulacrum. At first sight, the unassuming dive/premiere showcase for local talent appeared as always. However, amiable vibes normally generated by the neighborhood joint had been transfused with a stifling energy typical of NYPD interrogation rooms. Hey, what’s Dennis Franz doing here? Even Lounge stalwart Tattoo Ryan was missing. In his stead hovered two strange bouncers working furiously to enforce Utah’s recently amended liquor laws.

Suddenly gaining entry to one of our favorite clubs was harder than getting into heaven. A herd of anxious regulars huddled in the entrance, uncomfortably adjusting to the latest state sponsored pain-in-the-arse. As with previous club codes, patrons immediately began formulating ways to get around absurd legalities. The purchase of a temporary membership, for example (which incidentally is the same price as the cover, thus making it a pointless exercise in futility), effectively cleared our heathen souls and landed us a ticket inside. We crossed over, leaving frustration behind and focusing on the reason we had even bothered to come.

Opening act Blue Hour played with a slightly reserved tone, as if responding to an unofficial memo deeming the night property of Redd Tape. Still, the finely tuned quartet was anything but a second-rate benchwarmer. In fact, the group actually served as a delightful appertif, effectively prepping the crowd’s palate for a succulent main course. Though Blue Hour may not have been the force responsible for a massive turnout, it is strictly due to an elusive low profile. Additional commitments prevented members from touring with optimal frequency. Apparently the Stop Architecture EP (which took nearly two years to complete) was originally slated to debut in February 2002. However, the group wanted to keep material under wraps until the opportunity arose to schedule more gigs. Judging by their performance, Lewis, brother Charlie (drums), Chris Thompson (guitar) and Greg Midgley (guitar, keys, vocals) have been active in the touring interim. The Blue Hour sound was on par with early Stones, though Lewis’s voice was more reminiscent of Thom Yorke’s higher registers than of Jagger’s aggressive chatter.

Midgley, who trades off on the mic, held his own on “I’m Going Insane,” however, as lead vocalist, the talented guitar and organ player fell a little flat. Overall, the group’s strength laid in technically adept instrumentation. Each member manipulated his sonic weapon of choice with impressive skill. They clearly know what they’re doing. Maybe it will just take a few spins of the new EP to find favor with the singing.

	Will Sartain of Redd Tape waits for divine inspiration from the Urban Lounge ventriloquist angel.

As soon as Blue Hour tapered down, musicians and roadies leapt on stage in preparation for the headlining act. Various-sized balloons floated around while tiny rotating fans propelled pinwheel flowers lining the platform’s circumference.

Will Sartain addressed the audience from beneath a hanging ventriloquist doll dressed in angel garb.

“Welcome to our party!” he said. “We worked really hard for this.”

The spunky artists proceeded to launch into “My Favorite Day,” which is quickly proving to be a fan favorite. The crowd bounced and jiggled, oohed and ahhed as a slew of guest performers took turns sharing the spotlight. Bronwen Beecher worked magic on the violin and jazz impresario Dave Chisholm blew perfection on his trumpet. Tolchock’s Ryan Fedor contributed to several songs, most notably “Winter Wishes,” a finale that sent Scottie Fetzer careening into the crowd—and onto my now crippled foot. But the pain was well worth it. Another Redd Tape concert so satisfying it prompts the question as to whether recorded tracks could ever live up the songs presented in the flesh. Listen to the album and decide for yourself. While you’re at it, support other homegrown heroes by allocating the latest releases from Tolchock Trio and Blue Hour. Who knows? One day these three bands might just make their incestuous affairs official by merging into one übergroup, and you can boast that you knew them way back when...

See RED reviews for more information on Redd Tape’s Born in a Cardboard Box.
jamie@red-mag.com