Day 4 of this Boston trip and the 4th 2-gig night in a row! But first, a lazy morning then a meeting with Mark Kraus for lunch, before more record shopping and r'n'r, before Rachel and I hit TTs at 8.30 with the intention of saying "hey" to Kevin Camara at the door, then getting munchies at the Middle East before coming in later for the gig proper. Kevin, however, is having none of it and ushers us into the not-yet-open venue and gets the drinks in. Admittedly we don't put up too much of a fight - right, that's it, we're in! Hit the pool table with Kevin and his mate Jason Sloan, who's filling in for The Fly Seville on drums tonight. Get whupped. Hmmm, we're not dealing with our usual victims Michael and Mark here. Continue playing nevertheless through The Curtain Society's set, so I have no recollection of what they were like whatsoever. Whoops.
However, we down cues at 10 for Mishima USA. They're a different proposition - a two-piece (!) whose songs are so jangly I'd be checking my mobile phone every song (if I had one, that is). They also feature some splendid hooks (the hookline to "Frame Relay" is in my head for days afterwards, no messin') and the right amount of understated angst to mark them out as Smiths influencees rather than imitators. A band out of time in many ways, I nevertheless lap this set up. Great stuff.
In the lull before The Fly Seville, we chill with Mark Kraus who points out Brian Dunn in the audience. We re-introduce ourselves (less manically this time!), chat and gratefully receive copies of his new band The Clairvoyants' CD (if they're even a patch on The Sky Heroes, they'll be well worth it) and I take a picture to ensure we recognise him next time. I also run into Carol Hurley, who tells me her brother, former Gigolo Aunts man Steve, is due in town tonight!
This takes us up to the entrance of The Fly Seville at 11. They tuned up, turned it down and blissed out, rather than rocked out. A somewhat untypical Boston band, The Fly Seville's set is all about atmosphere, space and understatement. Second number in, "The Taj Mahal Of America" is almost Kent-like in its' sweeping range and depth, and the rest of the set also occasionally touches these slow-burning, emotive heights. Moody without being maudlin (don't mention the "R" word!) and occasionally country-tinged, although not to the point of mawkish sentimentality, The Fly Seville tug hearts rather than tap toes, and do it rather well.
They round off at 11.40, and we're off again, saying our farewells and hopping into a vacant taxi practically parked outside the venue for gig number 2 of the night. That was well done!
However, we down cues at 10 for Mishima USA. They're a different proposition - a two-piece (!) whose songs are so jangly I'd be checking my mobile phone every song (if I had one, that is). They also feature some splendid hooks (the hookline to "Frame Relay" is in my head for days afterwards, no messin') and the right amount of understated angst to mark them out as Smiths influencees rather than imitators. A band out of time in many ways, I nevertheless lap this set up. Great stuff.
In the lull before The Fly Seville, we chill with Mark Kraus who points out Brian Dunn in the audience. We re-introduce ourselves (less manically this time!), chat and gratefully receive copies of his new band The Clairvoyants' CD (if they're even a patch on The Sky Heroes, they'll be well worth it) and I take a picture to ensure we recognise him next time. I also run into Carol Hurley, who tells me her brother, former Gigolo Aunts man Steve, is due in town tonight!
This takes us up to the entrance of The Fly Seville at 11. They tuned up, turned it down and blissed out, rather than rocked out. A somewhat untypical Boston band, The Fly Seville's set is all about atmosphere, space and understatement. Second number in, "The Taj Mahal Of America" is almost Kent-like in its' sweeping range and depth, and the rest of the set also occasionally touches these slow-burning, emotive heights. Moody without being maudlin (don't mention the "R" word!) and occasionally country-tinged, although not to the point of mawkish sentimentality, The Fly Seville tug hearts rather than tap toes, and do it rather well.
They round off at 11.40, and we're off again, saying our farewells and hopping into a vacant taxi practically parked outside the venue for gig number 2 of the night. That was well done!
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