I can't tell you the rest of the setlist, I can't tell you how many songs they played, all I had written on my hand at the end of the show was "LIITA," detailing the opener. It wasn't that I necessarily forgot to write as the show went along, it was that I couldn't bring myself to do anything but stare. Enthralling, rapturous, magnetic, these words don't make the cut in my memory. I remember his face, I remember her face, I remember their cues to each other, I remember hearing the bartender telling people to "wait a minute," because she couldn't stop watching either.
There are so many musical references you can tally up when describing The Shivers' sound (The Velvet Underground being the biggie), but they transfer so well between all their influences that it creates something only them, making a list pointless. If I must create a profile for your imagination, think the intensity of Mick Jagger, the emotional outbursts of Mark Hollis, and all wrapped up in a similarly-sporadic David Byrne. It's just so damn entertaining, and these are not happy songs! This is (apparently) not a happy man, and he's letting you know this, which becomes extremely admirable as you witness his disappointment manifest on stage.
And while contained in each song may lie a story of unrequited love, depression, or hatred, the path one travels through a Shivers live show is not one of heartbreak but one where you take desperate stabs at trying to attain that eternal glee disguised on the face of the performer; and at least this audience member was ecstatic to be allowed that attempt.
The Shivers are Keith Zarriello and Jo Schornikow; they are taking a hiatus from New York City, Zarriello stating, "I forgot there were places with…trees. I gotta get out of the city for a while.”
Pulse Films Weird Hero 'Documentary' Director D.A.R.Y.L. Here
Elias Necol Melad is my first guest contributor. He is an avid and knowledgeable music fanatic with exceptional taste, a visual artist who also can complete the Times Sunday Crossword Puzzle with a pen in record time.
The twisted soul, punk attitude, and divine harmonies of the band Ava Luna were welcome sounds @ Pianos. The seven-member band presented a very lively set full of soul/funk and a bass line groove that made dancing my only option. Carlos Hernandez, the lead singer, and ultimate contortionist, aptly put his falsetto into hard drive. His enthusiastic rendering of soul-ridden vocals brought to mind, Sam Cooke. The female trio’s sophisticated Doo-wop harmonies worked as passages alongside the synth, bass, and drums that had a scratchy, almost garage-band feel.
Ava Luna effectively created a trichotomy of styles into a soul-melding mash. Having only seen a few videos and hearing some tracks seeing the band live left me with a strong impression. I loved their energy, spirit, and intention. This was the conclusion of Patrick Duffy’s relaunch party for the music blog Pop Tart Sucks Toasted, which was taken down by Google’s Blogger in February earlier this year. Duffy’s taste and hard work have helped enumerable musicians gain much-deserved exposure.
Sorry, I only came out to see Ava Luna but the other bands
on the line-up were MiniBoone, Your Youth, and Bermuda Bonnie.
Ethan Bassford – Bass, Felicia Douglass – Vocals, Carlos Hernandez –
Vocals, Becca Kauffman – Vocals, Anna Sian – Vocals, Alex Smith – Drums,
Nathan Tompkins – Synthesizer.