Written by Daniel Cowart.
Holy shit does the 420 festival ever suck. Hey, the jam bands were cool—I enjoyed that—but a major annual public event with spoof hip-hop about eating chips and far-too-lengthy “Modern Burlesque” was disappointing at best (beautiful performers, however).
Enter a few bands from Salt Lake City, Utah.
Before the show Dallas Yellowfly and I interviewed the folks from Subrosa in the ladies restroom. They’re genuinely awesome people. The men seemed a little odd, although in hindsight, that’s potentially an effect from being in the women’s washroom. Needless to say, the person who got me out of a massive burn-out and jazzed about the show was guitarist and singer, Rebecca Vernon. That is one chill lady.
After the interview was over, I hit a brick wall. Sleep! Precious sleep crept up within my consciousness: eyes closing for only a moment, but minutes would pass by in a dream that took place where I sat, with the people I was beside. It was time for…EMERGENCY ESPRESSO! Missed Astrakhan and Dungeons while retrieving four shots of sugary espresso, but holy shit, was it ever worth it!
I waltzed right on through the Astoria’s entrance. buzzing’ on a brain that was alert enough to actively listen, but suffering from an all-nighter with my friend Lucy, and a full day of smoking way too much pot for no good reason. Eight Bells couldn’t be more perfect for that state of mind…very slow and prolonged, delays and lighter distortions. I’d just begun to start drifting off when the instruments would get busy as all hell! Eight Bells are a crazy-ass jam band that has intense dynamics!
This show was already putting the Vancouver Art Gallery to shame. These are definitely some talented musicians who’ve been at it for a long time. Eight Bells, I wish we had spoken to one another on camera…they’re fucking awesome!
I’m pretty sure “Yellowed Wallpaper” took the trophy home for best song. Check it—last track (the whole play list is rockin’ though).
Oh my gooooood. Subrosa was overwhelming at first. Keep in mind, this infant isn’t too familiar with the West Coast Sludge Doom, or whathaveyou, scene. I saw Om once…they sold out the Media Club…they were absolutely fantastic…BACK TO SUBROSA.
My entire being was consistently stimulated by crunching distortion and slow pounding drums, accompanied by violins. I’m a sucker for strings, and was that mix ever eerie! There couldn’t be a better soundtrack to end my weekend adventure, after being encompassed by a plethora of vibrations and drifting off into a state of physical destitute. I wandered off home in a half-sleep daze, completely satisfied with myself for taking up an editorial on Vancouver’s day of inebriated celebration.
I’ll be running No Hope For The Mighty Ones through giant vibrating magnets for the next few years.