Live music review: Free Week in Austin provides fans endless music discovery opportunities

Red River Cultural District’s Free Week is an absolute blessing, one of the many (though, according to some, rapidly diminishing) monuments to the weird and wonderful Austin music scene lore. Over the course of two bustling nights, this year’s edition (the 21st since the festivities began in 2003) saw 80+ bands flaunt their talents on stages throughout Red River and East Austin. Armed only with my pen, high fidelity ear plugs and a motley crew of misfits, I embarked last week on a simple mission: to hear, experience, feel and discover as much music as possible. Read my chronicles below.

Free Week Roundup

Deadleg, or The Musical Mecca of Hotel Vegas

Eager to get a head start on the Free Week festivities, I embarked on a frantic search for a Wednesday night showcase. Tabs opened and closed, hours whiled away, and I shot out of that rabbit hole at the venue where all my adventures seem to begin: the musical mecca that is Hotel Vegas. (Note: when confronted by paralysis and the sheer number of live music possibilities in our fine city, just shut down the social media, hop in the car and trust in the booking taste of Hotel Vegas). It was there, surrounded by a thin but devout crowd of similarly music-starved fanatics, that I discovered one of Austin’s freshest and most electric new faces, Deadleg.

More crunch than bounce, their strings resonating with woozy distortion rather than a clean ring, Deadleg’s brand of seething post-rock balances the icy cool of Incubus (“Tomorrow”) against the fevered energy of Cloud Nothings (“Deadweight”). On stage, the trio comes across as unassuming, almost shy, sipping from Lone Stars with more flourish than they use to strike their strings. Their songs start deceptively simple before swelling into a ferocious cascade of sound. Frontman Zack Chicoine sings with a vacant gaze as if enraptured, his voice trembling but somehow soaring above the fuzzy noise careening around the concrete room. But it’s in the transitory moments that the band really shines, drummer Nick Dillon’s pulsing patterns building the bedrock for Chicoine – freed momentarily from vocal responsibilities – to dazzle.

Neckbolt, or Ears Are a Terrible Thing to Waste

After slogging through two days of work, I was immediately charmed by the erratic, experimental noise rock of Neckbolt, who kicked things off Friday night at Mohawk in incandescent style. Dressed in a downright adorable Garfield tee that read “A stomach is a terrible thing to waste,” lead singer James Roo jolted around stage like the demented offspring of David Byrne and Korn frontman Jonathan Davis. Guitar and bass jerked in unsettling unison, wielded by twin marionettes absolutely annihilating riffs that almost threatened to become catchy melodies before being swallowed whole by the group’s sonic cacophony cocoon.

Moonily, or Has Anyone Ever Studied the Effect of Drop-D Tuning on the Human Body?

Sweatier than I imagined I’d be at 9:30pm on a January night (even in Texas), I dragged myself away from Neckbolt’s crunchy psychedelia to bask in Moonily’s hazy, alien grunge. Entering the intimacy of Mohawk’s indoor stage had an almost barometric effect on me – I could feel my heart slowing, could feel every muscle relaxing fiber by fiber as they fell under Moonily’s vaguely unsettling spell. The crowd swayed as one, hypnotized equally by the band’s ominous drop-D tuning and their Cranberries-esque keening (“Honey Tea”). That stupor was broken only once, during stunning track “11:11,” when frontwoman Mars Trujillo turned to her bass player and partner (in music, love and life) Safaa Kaderi with a wry smile to land the knockout punch of a closing line: “I love you.” The moment was electric. The room breathed as one, as if given permission to surface for a quick, fleeting gulp of air – as if reminded that, even in the midst of dissonance and darkness, beautiful things can, will, and must persist.

Death Party, or Just Don’t Be Useless

Death Party followed Moonily’s dreamy set with a much-needed injection of energy. Relishing in the joy of performance and unafraid to ham it up for their crowd, the trio unleashed a barrage of hair metal-hued garage-punk on an audience that seemed perhaps a little unprepared for the shift in tone. Heads shook, but never banged; feet wiggled, but never stomped. Death Party dug deeper, refusing to relent, spurred faster and faster by drummer Pedro Carvalho’s furious tempo… until, finally, incendiary single “Useless” exploded into being, igniting the room with an unintentional call to action: just don’t be useless. Heart rates spiked. Devil horn hand gestures raged with reckless abandon. Any residual remnants of sedation from the previous set turned to adoration, and at long last, Death Party – armed with two Flying V guitars, as if to cement in their rock star status – were rewarded with the response their performance so richly deserved.

Mockjaw, or Consumed by Spiritual Stank

The final notes of Death Party still clanging their way through my cortex, I gathered my ragtag gang of Free Week fanatics with one simple, glorious syllable: “jazz.” I expected only to catch the tail end of Austin Chronicle-nominated Mockjaw’s blistering set but, thanks to the powers-that-be, their start time was delayed by 15 minutes. That was just long enough to sneak into a packed Cheer Up Charlie’s and sidle into a glorious spot at the front of the indoor stage, where we could get our brains blasted by the sound system and minds melted by the wizardry of keyboard virtuoso KindKeith. An increasingly-intoxicated crowd murmured restlessly as the band remedied some slight kinks with the sound system, but any frustration vaporized under guitarist/vocalist Sloan Hill’s grin. It was the first of many over the course of a joyous, jam-filled set. Hill’s obsidian fingernails contorted across the fretboard. Bassist Tanner Hoyt bounced in glee. KindKeith’s dancing fingers filled any empty space in the room with funk-soaked synths and twinkling keys. Perhaps the only person in the room not rocking a shit-eating smile by the end of the first tune was drummer Collin McCord, whose face stayed consumed by spiritual stank. Even the most violent of Hill’s vocals (“You little RUNT!”) were bathed in sardonic triumph that elicited involuntary “whoops” from the captivated crowd. Mockjaw ended their set with a debut of new single “Something in the Water” – dropping officially with a release party on January 19th – a smooth, sexy tune that leans into the group’s classical jazz training to ebb and flow like the tide.

Dragon Rapid, or Deep Inside the Dragon’s Lair

Life, like all things, is about balance. So when it came time for us to leave the colorful confines of Cheer Up Charlie’s, there was only one possible next destination: the dank depths of goth haven Elysium. Until tonight, this was the sole jewel missing from my Red River infinity stone collection – somehow an evening at Elysium had always eluded me. I think some part of me just never believed I was cool enough. The error of my ways was painfully apparent from the moment I crossed the venue’s threshold, welcomed by a spacious sunken dance floor (complete with icy blasts from an unseen fog machine), luxurious leather seats, and the narcotic din of local post-punks Dragon Rapid. The group effortlessly balances post-punk riffs against the frantic synth and drum patterns typical of ‘80s darkwave, often playing bassist Dany Jay’s bilingual baritone vocals against guitar-toting showman Daniel Lopez’s emphatic, barking delivery. Jay bears the weight of more brooding tracks, often slowing her delivery down to a spoken-word trickle (“Adentro”, “Sin Ti”). Lopez assumes the spotlight and amps up his theatrics for the tunes with a little more life to them, rousing everyone to the floor for “Last Chance Dance” and inciting anti-technological rebellion with the riotous “Look Alive”. The effect, augmented by a stark difference in on-stage persona (even down to the shades!), is that of an auditory yin-yang, opposite but interconnected.

Chancla Fight Club, or I Think I Could Beat Davey Havok in Fight Club

A tireless night ended in style at Valhalla with the exuberant energy of Chancla Fight Club, who not only rock one of the most fun names of any Austin band (rivaled only by Hans Gruber and the Die Hards) but have one of the freshest and funnest spins in this strange new wave of emo revival. 2018 single “Piece of Glass” immediately proved the charmingly nervous band deserving of a bigger stage, its buoyant bop and anthemic chorus ushering away any lingering ache threatening to settle in fan’s tired legs. An intricate, prog-rock guitar riff reminiscent of Fall of Troy announced barn-burner “Best Interest,” whose murky bass line pulses underneath a patient first verse before kicking the entire track into second gear halfway through. With its vengeful lyrics about drowning a manipulative ex, “Good Looking Idiot” proved that vocal powerhouse Ashley Benson can trade lines with the angriest and angstiest in the game (looking at you, Davey Havok). A rousing cover of the birthday song for drummer Justin Dear, who looked just embarrassed enough to make it endearing, detonated into a paranoid new track that, as if in apology for forcing the ruthless celebratory tradition on him, heavily featured a high-octane Dear unleashing a titanic attack against his drum set. Any lazy mental comparisons drawn between Chancla Fight Club and Paramore were immediately vindicated by a cutting rendition of “Misery Business,” which featured Benson embarking on a determined, though ultimately and shamefully unsuccessful, foray into the crowd for a suitable partner to share her mic. The breathless set ended in a triumphant blast of grungy post-butt rock (I mean that in a good way) with “Monster,” its chunky bass line spearheading a zealous defense against one’s encroaching inner demons. One last grateful, grinning wave from the band members marked the end of a ripping set and a glorious night.

All Good Things Must End

Simultaneously rejuvenated and exhausted, I stood around for a while, hoping to bask in the moment, but the audience quickly dispersed into the Red River night. All good things must end, I guess…but not yet. There’s still a whole day of music, magic and Free Week mayhem to go, after all.

Featured photo of Neckbolt by Drew Doggett

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