BLACK ELK CONFIRMS!
Black Elk makes a return to Missoula for Total Fest VIII, and we couldn’t be happier. Last year’s performance was one for the ages. They played in the Palace and brought the crowd to their knees. It was a revealing set that will be remembered for some time. Black Elk consists of Dan Capuano on bass, Erik Trammel on guitar (formerly of Wadsworth), Jeff Watson on the drums and Tom Glose on vocals. This Portland 4 piece will have you screaming for more and they will deliver it. When I hear Black Elk, I get the unmistakable likeness of Jesus Lizard and punk rock sensibilities of Black Flag. Black Elk has torched Missoula more than once, and it is never a show to miss so do not miss these guys as you may see more of them than you would expect.

POOR SCHOOL CONFIRMS!!!
If you have never experienced the squawking, brooding, pulsing, wailing, throbbing, droning, hypnotizing tones of Poor School, I am sorry for you. Truly. This isn’t your grand-pappy’s noise. Poor School is everything that you love (or forget that you love) about jazz, noise, punk and, (perhaps a stretch) acid rock all rolled into one cacophonous improvised fertility ritual. Consisting of Bryan Ramirez (Ex-Cocaine, Universal Indians), John Niekrasz (Fly!, Fly!, Fly!, Fly!, Fly!, Why I Must Be Careful, etc.) and Nathan Hoyme (free lance sax wielder and all around swell guy), the trio lurches and rolls over one another with surprising ease as they perpetually delay collision after collision. Niekrasz’s drums provide momentary centering while Ramirez and Hoyme pursue unknown but eerily comfortable caverns on the guitar and saxophone. Their improvised sets violently massage all of your angst-ridden anticipation until your brain drips onto your shoes. Noiseweek’s review offers a telling summary: “They obstensibly play full-tilt improv welded to tribal heavy rock, but there's so much more happening inside the thick folds of their hurtling jams that ripping them open and idenitfying the guts inside is like trying to dissect pudding - eventually you just have to give up and eat it.” Bring your bibs, Total Fest-ers!

LAMBORGHINIZ CONFIRM!
A.K.A. "Tipper Gore, look out." With all the class and the light touch of Luther "Luke Skyywalker" Campbell, Seattle's Lamborghiniz are the absolute antithesis of the intelligent rap that seems to be all the rage these days. In fact, Lamborghiniz subject matter is all prurient, all BOOM and all about gettin' panties off.

Of course, were the music not entirely, unironically in lock-step with the original '89 Miami Bass Sound steez of As Nasty As they Wanna Be, it'd just be a some bogus tribute. However, this crew has jumped into the proverbial deep end and they deliver the goods live, and in-person. Expect a fine drank-flavoured cocktail of offensiveness, mysogyny and dance-party-throw-down in equal parts. Eric from the Stranger's Blog recently posted a show review.

GLASSELL PARK 3 CONFIRM!
“Raw” is sometimes thrown around to compensate for a sentiment that isn’t there. Not here. Gritty and simple, Glassell Park 3 pounds out a raucous blues / garage punk from their box n snare, guit-jo and bass that eschews any sense of an orchestrated presence. Bearing the name of one of Los Angeles’s older neighborhoods, GP 3’s sound serves as a constant check to the gentrification and leveling that most neighborhoods experience. This is an active celebration that dares you to resist its train-like pull. GP 3 gathers inspiration and energy from the communal space around them and churns out a foot pounding, sweat milking tempo that is bound to win them an entire set of new friends and compatriots.

THE BUGS CONFIRM!
My kid likes pop…The perfect pop of Supergrass, Super Furry Animals ... anything super. And he likes The Bugs' "Fuckin' A Right." Never mind that it talks about bad stuff or has bad words, it's the sound that compels him. The Bugs take that New York pared down punk sound - nasal vocals and pissed lyrics combined with simple rhythms and scuzzy guitar - and make of it some danceable drinkable stuff. This is pop for adults, colored with Red #40 and highly addictive.

VILE BLUE SHADES CONFIRM!
Say the words "Utah band" and the only thing most of us are able to think about is the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Vile Blue Shades are a good exception to that misconception about the beehive state's underground scene. Their music is a whirling, pulsating, sensual thing with a handful of percussionists, guitarists, keyboardists, a bassist, Meg the dancer and Ryan, their 6' 5" front-person who combines all the charm of Mark E. Smith with the subtlety of Andre the Giant.

Who knows what to attribute the flavor of these tunes to? Salt Lake's got a relatively urban feel, I guess. You can get Afghan food and a copy of the Financial Times downtown. But any place talk doesn't really explain or do justice to the excellent chemistry of this huge handful of players. Nothing about the grid towns, wide city blocks, polygamist enclaves, sandstone fins or cryptobiotic crust says a damn thing about the multi-celled, undulating organism that these folks are able to transform into once they hop on a stage.

Vile Blue Shades find a way to make you forget that orchestrating a six-piece band is a hell of a task, let alone double that number. If not for the spot-on abilities and clarity of purpose that seem to glue this group together you'd have a annoyingly cacophonous amusical junk heap, or worse a derivative A Certain Ratio knockoff. Neither are true, rather, at a Vile Blue Shades show, one's treated to one of the best kept secrets in these parts.

(Photos by Dane Hansen, Total Fest VI, 2007)

PSYCHEDELIC HORSESHIT CONFIRM!
Ohioans playing scuzzy, blown-out rock and roll is a phenomenon that goes back about as far as rock and roll goes. Proto-punk/punk bands like Rocket from the Tombs, Pere Ubu, the Pagans, Mike Rep and Quotas all made substantial wagon ruts in the landscape of rock and roll. The nineties saw Guided By Voices, Brainiac, Gaunt and the New Bomb Turks continue the trashy traditions set before them. More recently, groups like Pink Reason, Times New Viking and Psychedelic Horseshit have continued embracing the part-outsider/part-rock and roller tradition of the Rust Belt. It' s refreshing as shit to hear a band in the O's sound like obscure and excellent groups like the Icky Boyfriends and Gerty Farish.

We here at Total Towers don't embrace the term "shit gaze" as a genre, and therefore expect no more mention of it. We do like Siltbreeze, Columbus Discount, and this Psychedelic Horseshit quite a bit.