Doors at Great Scott opened at 9pm on Monday night, and music from Amherst band Longings started up and refused to quit approximately 30 minutes later. The post-punk three piece played their practiced, bass-heavy songs as latecomers shuffled in, dripping from a downpour on the other side of the venue doors. Meghan Minior (Ampere) and Will Killingsworth (Ampere, Orchid) vocalized together on tracks from their 2015 self-titled release with an anguished urgency that actually makes you want to distinguish the lyrics under all that noisy, but practiced, dark-gaze rock. Drummer Cole Lanier sealed the deal with some sharp percussion, heard before when he played with Califorinia X. Also, props to Minior for RULING on bass at this show.
Next up, we got some solid indie rock from 4 (sometimes 5) piece Dreamtigers, from Beverly, Mass. It was almost refreshing to see two dudes harmonizing with each other on poetic, though vague, folky tunes. Those harmonies are definitely their vocal strong suit, but solo songs like “Gone Away” worked, especially with violinist Aisha Burns’ show-stealing interludes. In fact, Dreamtigers’ music is generally pretty clever. Just when you could get bored with what you might think is generic folk rock, Joe Longobardi makes a slick switch on drums, or guitarist Jake Woodruff plays a particularly catchy riff. With plenty of support from fans who were surely friends, Dreamtigers were a comfortable pick to open this headlining set.
Then, Aimée Argote simply strolled from the merch table to sidestage, and all of a sudden— there was Des Ark, with another guitarist and drummer and all. After a quick, soft-spoken greeting from the vocalist, the trio jumped right into it, playing mostly stuff from Everything Dies. The way Argote can literally whisper into the mic and captivate an entire room, the way she can evoke angst, apathy, gratitude, trauma, tenderness, hopefulness— all in one aching melody, is what makes Des Ark a great band. That, and the way the band members moved with each other on stage, pushing and pulling their bodies, and reacting to the music they themselves were playing. It was almost as if their instruments were playing them?!?!
Only joking. Argote slays as a musician in general, with intricate plucking, dynamic riffs, and sometimes, like on new song “Wet Carpet,” haunting melodies on the keyboard. Argote has mastered the limits to her voice too, from the breathy vocals of “Snake Stuff,” to her sheer range in “Coney Island Street Meat.” And then there’s the fluctuating volume in her songs, though less so on her latest release. Still, it’s hard to not scream about some subjects.
It’s these subjects that bind Des Ark and her fans together. The poignant music just makes it easy. Not to mention, Des Ark are one of those bands who have been around forever. Since 2006, there has existed a North Carolina radio station’s live recording of the first versions of seven Aimée Argote tunes. Des Ark– sometimes playing as a band, sometimes Aimee Argote solo– has put out 35 songs since then, though many of those are demos and re-recordings. But, due to multiple recent cancer diagnoses within her family, and because making music this meaningful always takes its time, it had been four years since Argote released an album. So, this small tour in support of her latest release, aptly named Everything Dies, was kind of a big deal for Argote and her loyal fans. .
This was evident as Argote approached the end of her set, took the stage alone, and asked the audience what they’d like to hear. Some requested “Eloise (2006),” others shouted “Lord of the Rings” (2006), “Howard’s Hour” (2011). But all those were no good, because try as she might, Argote just can’t remember her damn chords. “You should watch me find my keys in the morning,” she laughed as she plucked the first couple notes of the song she’d actually end up closing with, “My Little Bantam Rooster,” a song meant for her sick mother. The audience was fell silent, and so did Argote, almost. The last line, she nearly whispered, “If your body ain’t there// then my heart still knows where// to look for you// when I need to hear your voice.” And there hasn’t been a Monday show sadder than that.
