A picture of some fuzz making devices from the fest
In ancient times, festivals were meant to mark the passage of time. The end of a season, the beginning of a season (i.e. harvest) by noting the momentous occasion with a party. In this spirit, what does Fuzzstival represent? I would categorize it as one of the first major indie Boston music festivals since lockdown ended and a collective rejoicing that we’re able to see live local music again. The party vibe was evident: friendly priced tickets, drinks, as well as free ear plugs at the door. All this, plus squeaky clean bathrooms courtesy of the fine facilities at the Charles River Speedway. I could get used to this.
In an effort to minimize TLDR I only wrote about a few personal favorites, so read on for a summarized review of the concert.
Night 1
Beeef
Although slightly out-of-place following a couple of abrasive acts, Allston Pudding co-founder Daniel Schiffer’s band Beeef balanced the bill nicely with major key melodies. The 4-piece had a well-calibrated set of tight songwriting, guitar jangle, and fuzzy bass. As the band played on, they sounded increasingly twee compared to the previous aggressive and heady acts, which all culminated in a moment where Schiffer prefaced a slow tempo tune with encouragement of hugs. Posi-vibes abounded as the crowd routinely chanted “BEEEEEEEF!” and clapped along. Warm and fuzzy feelings to all.
Editrix
A mercifully quick changeover and we’re back up and running on the right-side stage with Editrix. Singer/guitarist Wendy Eisenberg led the band with a quiet confidence that belied their ability. They switched it up with their tempos, time signatures, vocal effects, and dynamic range as Eisenberg played both lead and rhythm guitar while singing. They casually tossed in some guitar hero moments, busting out sweeps during a brief interlude. As the last kick drum slammed and my shirt stopped vibrating, I had concluded that Editrix must be one of the deadliest power trios around.
Landowner
Landowner swept onto the stage several minutes past 11 pm for a set that took hold of the audience with immediacy and intensity, and they didn’t need to resort to bowling us over with raw sonic power to do so. Sure, there was plenty of volume containing barbed guitar lines and drum beats that were sent caroling through the cool late summer evening, which surely heightened the auditory senses, but the visual performance is what made a stirring impression on this writer. The X-factor was the front man, Dan Shaw, who was dressed in Ian Curtis office attire and stiffly mugging in ways that recalled both Mark Mothersbaugh and Jim Carey. Interestingly there was an emphasis on repetition – not rock-by-numbers riffs but rather idiosyncratic and dissonant instrumental passages that would be reiterated along with the evocative lyrics. It was deranged and beautiful.
Night 2
Nova One
Performing as a duo tonight, Providence’s Nova One delivered a dreamy vocal performance over mellow, washed-out guitars. There were ambient drone-y sounds that seem to have been generated from the guitars themselves with the aid of pedals. The guitar driven atmosphere surrounded the powerful and ethereal voice of singer-songwriter Roz Raskin. The effect was gentle and breezy.
Cliff Notez
Another Allston Pudding alumnus, Cliff Notez, took to the stage late Saturday evening. He took a break from an intensive rural artist’s residency at Mass MOCA where he is working on new music to play tonight’s show. He captivated the audience with a refreshing mix of rapping and singing. Also, right from the jump, he was bringing an element that has been lacking for much of the fest: banter. He charmed the audience, speaking to us directly throughout his set and making us laugh. Notez encouraged call-and-response with intriguing phrases from his songs such as “We some masochists” and “Fuck the system, motherfuck the system.” He debuted a number of high energy songs that got the crowd dancing (he even gave us some abstract dancing instructions). Decked out in gold fingernails and a “This is Fine” meme t-shirt, Cliff Notez (and all of us) were indeed (temporarily) doing just fine. At the end, he said it was time for him to head back out to Mass MOCA in the woods of Western Mass, where he said he hopes to not get eaten by a bear.
Pictured during their first song, “Falling Forward.”
Sweeping Promises
Festival headliners Sweeping Promises played their first show ever just a week before lock down, 18 months later, their second in-person show was tonight. In the interim, their first and only album “Hunger for a Way Out” blew many of us away, and it was time to see what they could do live.
But fate would strike again. During the peak of the festival, right after the first song, a stunning rendition of “Falling Forward” — something happened — something caused a man who was pushing people in the front to start a mosh pit to actually fall backward and he was suddenly on the ground unconscious, and the police were called. I eventually saw the same man standing and vibing in the room, while authorities were dealing with the aftermath of the crisis. It was all very anticlimactic and I don’t even want to write about this but I kinda have to since the show was unfortunately put on hiatus for pretty much the rest of what would have been Sweeping Promises’ set. The band finally regrouped for 4-5 songs total but the mood had palpably changed. It was a less powerful performance than how it started, but better than nothing. Singer Lira Mondal’s massive voice and throbbing bass shook the walls, Caufield Schnug’s flanger drenched guitar toggled between funk chords and tasty leads, while Spenser Gralla’s beats summoned the crowd to move, racing to squeeze in a few songs before the clock struck midnight. Definitely catch them on tour if you can.
Follow the concert organizer “Illegally Blind” for info on the next “Fuzzstival” and other like-minded community shows @illegallyblindpresents on IG
