Wednesday nights aren’t usually my favorite nights for late shows. Luckily, the good people of Great Scott said, “fuck that,” and force-fed me a heaping slab of absolutely kickass female-driven power-pop until well after midnight. It seemed like everyone in Waxahatchee, Potty Mouth, All Dogs, and Cayetana noted onstage just how packed this bill was, and the sellout crowd ate everything up. I did too.
Cayetana is a rock-steady 3-piece from Philadelphia that takes every single midtempo punk hook you’ve heard and spins it into something slick, groovy, and totally rad. Lead singer/guitarist Augusta Koch knew exactly how to lay down her killer pipes into some serious grooves from bassist Allegra Anka. The trio grinded its way through without flaws, until a single (hilarious) stick drop from drummer Kelly Olsen reminded us that they were actually people, and wonderful people at that. These gals were absolute professionals all around, and I can’t wait to see what’s in store for them.
Last week, All Dogs frontwoman Maryn Jones tore up Great Scott with fellow Ohioans Saintseneca (check out the review here), and her triumphant return to Comm. Ave was as unexpected as it was awesome. These guys and gals kept the amps quaking with quicker tempos on the whole, but with a bit more of a hazy feel. This band was still just as rock-solid as Cayetana, especially on the drumming side of things, but dynamically didn’t really waver much from their opening number. Perhaps it’s because Jones’ voice was so much more discernible with her other, folkier band, but I thought her soft high range didn’t work as well with this much fuzz and distortion. That said, the songs were sick, and All Dogs is worth a listen if you like a little noise in your Ohio playlist. I’m assuming all of you have an Ohio playlist, because I definitely do. As far as you know.
My theory about smaller towns is that you can gauge how boring they are by how kickass their punk bands are. After Potty Mouth had finished their head-banging set, I made a mental note to avoid Northampton, MA at all costs (joking, Northampton. I would never diss the town that gave us Giraffes? Giraffes!). This all-gal quartet dialed the smiles back up with playful lyrics and killer guitar hooks on top of a relentless rhythm section. Everything about this band screamed confidence, from bassist Ally Einbinder’s colorful shoes to stage banter that probably wasn’t actually funny, but charmed the hell out of the crowd nonetheless. Potty Mouth had established themselves as the peppiest of the bunch even before singer/rhythm guitarist Abby Weems laughed off a botched chord and declared, “Everyone fucks up, right?”
Though Weems has a very effective bored teenager angst-type vocal style, I wish I could have heard more singing from lead guitarist Phoebe Harris, because her brief stint on “The Better End” was my favorite part of the set. However, it’s worth noting that Potty Mouth had the first tempo slowdown of the entire night, on “The Spins.” I had forgotten what those had sounded like, so this was a big moment. Check it right here:
Speaking of dynamic changes, Waxahatchee‘s first acoustic song made me text “GOOD GOD” to six different people. It didn’t matter that only one was watching with me, more people needed to know what was happening. Katie Crutchfield’s voice isn’t groundbreaking so much as it is perfect for shows like this, where the noise and fuzz of three excellent opening acts transitions perfectly into her eerie, lonely, yet still pretty loud material.
Folks leaned and swayed through her first few solo songs, before the band came up and completely brought the house down. The acoustics from everyone had been incredible the entire night (major props to the sound crew of Great Scott), but Waxahatchee simply took over, perfectly melding washed-out guitars and pummeling drums with Crutchfield’s voice soaring over everything. Hot damn. Only one fan-requested encore would follow, but everyone seemed completely satiated by a truly great set.
If you’re looking for a heavy dose of catchy, in-your-face power-pop, treat yourself to any one of these fine groups. Maybe, if you play your cards right, you can catch them before they outgrow Great Scott. I’ve got the feeling that they’ll be back regardless.
