Ume…Helmet and The Toadies

Not awesome iPhone photo of Ume at the Independent SF. Friday, October 26, 2012.

When I first heard that Helmet and The Toadies were playing in the city I was met with several emotions. I hadn’t heard either band since they were in constant rotation on Mtv –and not as pregnant teens. You see, Mtv was, in a time long long ago, prone to air what’s known as “music videos.” As kids, long before the world of music was at our fingertips via the internet, we used to have to settle on spending hours nestled around the warming glow our television set waiting eagerly for our favorite videos to come on. But I digress…

I decided to go see the show with Candice, who was actually more interested in seeing the opening band, Ume, who she’d seen before and yearned to revisit. Since I’d never really had any Helmet or Toadies tapes as a kid I was sorta indifferent but decided to go. Concerts rule. And, as I recalled, both bands were prone to rock out. Another pastime I enjoy. Plus I’d always dug that Toadies song from back in the day, which always gets stuck in my head so I won’t even go so far as to jot down the lyrics here, but if you were a child of the early 90’s you probably know the one. There was a “video” for it.

We got to The Independent and saw that, according to the marquee, Ume had changed their name to Go Giants, which I found interesting since they’re from Austin. I thought their new name had a nice ring to it nonetheless. Candice and I got all settled upstairs and before long the lights dimmed as three young adults took the stage, a girl on ax, a man on bass and another gent on the drum kit. They announced that their name was in fact Ume before thundering into an incredible set. Sadly however, the first song was swimmingly clouded over in my recollection by a girl who was standing right next to us and felt it was necessary to have a really loud, arbitrary conversation with a nearby male suitor. This girl’s high-pitched voice felt like shards of metal jabbing into my soul and after a quick nonverbal meeting, Candice and I decided to stand elsewhere. From our refreshingly new vantage point we were able to enjoy Ume’s show.

Lauren Langner Larson, the lead singer and the one of female persuasion, had a rhythmic chaos of movement in rotation from feet to knees to back to feet, shuffle, repeat , all the while wielding her electric guitar. Her voice had a beautifully soft fury that accompanied the band’s distorted musical sound as peas do carrots. Candice told me she’s married to the Bass player, Eric Larson, which I think rules the fuckin school. I was watching the drummer, Jeff Barrera, a lot as he was beside his bandmates as opposed to the traditional backyard position. (That’s what she said.) His style was different and technical in a quick but subtle way. He seemed at first glance to be using very little effort, but when I listened to the sound he was producing, it was like a form of ventriloquism as so much volume came from such a casual firestorm.  I thoroughly loved watching Ume and was glad Candice was privy to their charms…since they were elsewhere non-existent to the show’s schedule. I bought one of their CDs and it kills it, in a good way. It captures all the flaming solos and head banging that I experienced at the show.

After Ume was all done Helmet came on and I felt like I’d be flux capacitated back to 1992. I was suddenly my little ratty-haired 10 year-old self again. And since Helmet had no relation to Nirvana, my little inner grunge-tard wasn’t allowed to enjoy it. They were jamming and definitely harbor all the energy they did back when, but me and Candice are old now and get cranky when we’re tired. The jubilance of everyone else there who obviously loved the early 90’s as much as I did was testament however that Helmet can still rock your ass off. The Toadies were probably rad too, but I also didn’t want that song stuck in my head again. Though I must admit that I felt kinda bad for leaving early and if they happen through again I promise not to be such a bitch.