Boise is a weird place. Saddled in western Idaho, it looks as if travel to Boise from Missoula should be much easier than travel to, say, Seattle, Portland or Denver. But, it's not. The serpentine drive makes it frighteningly beautiful in the winter, and the darting RVs along the recreation corridors test your patience in the summer. It's a fantastic drive either way, but it never fails to surprise me how long it takes to get there.
Part of me likes it. Maybe only for the PBR mural. Part of me fears its visor-laden populace. But beneath the sterile veneer of Idaho's capitol is a thriving population of artists who don't shy away from holding the slimy into view. In fact, they douse themselves in it.
There's a pleasing amount of irreverence pulsating through Boise's Microbabies. With song titles like Look Whose Taco Trucking and Sex with Jeans AKA Dry Hump, you get a good picture of what to expect. It's an atonal affront that's reminiscent of the playful spurts of the Happy Flowers. Layered and energetic to the point that it almost seems directionless. You like it, and you're sure you know why, but anything you say just doesn't seem to measure up to the music. Microbabies is the band you'll hate yourself for missing, and the album that you'll relish to have in the shit-to-annoy-my-neighbors arsenal (you know, the Sunday after Total Fest when Amstel Light dude decides to mow the lawn at 8am). It's blatant with its disregard for ... well, just about everything.