Denton, 6.26.2024

Our second time this week at Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios was a different vibe than on most Molten Plains nights because of the all-ages rock show out on the patio. Big crowd, nicely diverse, and probably a great night for the bar staff. The first two Molten Plains sets were in the Rubber Room, where the audient-performer ratio was around 1:1 when we arrived. The eight-member Improvised Magic Ensemble was dispersed throughout the room: Dusty Rhoades (red guitar), Michael Briggs (electronics under the lights), Will Frenkel (cello by the main speaker), Andrew Dunlap (standup bass), Mike Fleming (guitar in the corner), Staci Stacis (apps, small animals, and bandages), Sarah Jay (voice and electronics), and Miguel Espinel (percussion and violin, mourning the loss of his beloved cat Tiger).

Their performance was a ten-minute timed improvisation, cued by Sarah Ruth Alexander (whose Molten Plains co-curator Ernesto Monteil was absent, visiting family in Venezuela), and an object example in how to do improv: everyone listening and responding, taking turns pushing their sounds to the fore, no one hogging the air, attending and stopping on cue. It's a truism (that's often true) that improv is more fun to play than it is to listen to. I have been a participant and a receiver of lots of meandering drone-fests. But this ensemble truly was magic, and showed that such need not be the case. 

Next up was the duo of Andrew May on violin (subbing for his partner, flautist Elizabeth McNutt) and cellist Kourtney Newton. I've seen both musicians play in a variety of contexts (including Sounds Modern, Trio du Sang, and Bitches Set Traps), but this set was really something special. Later, Newton told me that they'd planned three scored pieces, but in the event, they opted to extemporize, and played an improv duet that was so finely rendered that I thought it must have been composed, with shifts of tempo and dynamics and lots of textured dialogue. Every time these strong players put bow to string, they give the lie to the notion that classically-trained musicians can't improvise. A second stunning surprise for the evening.

Moving to the big room, after timely pause we were treated to a performance by BS Noise Control -- a sort of offshoot of BS Pain Control -- that was an engaging foray into Dada performance art. At first, the room was filled with folks who were cooling off from the show on the patio; I'm not sure whether or not sound tech extraordinaire Aubrey Seaton put dance music on the sound system to clear the room, but that was the net effect. BS Noise Control's lineup included BS Pain Control members Sarah Ruth Alexander on voice and electronics and Denton-to-Philadelphia transplant Brian Nothin on voice and guitars, with the added wildcard of Aaron Gonzalez on bass and voice. 

Among the antics that ensued were a conduction by Sarah Ruth that reminded me of what Frank Zappa was doing on side one of Weasels Ripped My Flesh, some riffing on the phrase "heavy metal _____," and a bit of ersatz C&W. Audience members who were familiar with the bits joined in like a midnight Rocky Horror crowd. Things culminated in "Herniated Disco," a reference to Aaron's recent medical woes (I was impressed that this was the second time in three days I saw him play a full set standing up -- except when he crawled down the steps during this piece) that featured disco music on the sound system, the trio dancing in the aisles, and an inadvertent crossover crowd of mostly young women from the rock show who were seemingly attracted by the danceable beats. Brian Nothin is a great physical comic, whose gawky presence reminds me a little of Kid Daniel from the Fort Worth Cats.

Last but not least was the first Rubber Gloves performance in three years by Vaults of Zin, Denton's purveyors of zeuhl (think heavy, aggressive psych-metal) and brothers in arms with the Fort Worth-based axis of Yeti-The Great Tyrant-Pinkish Black. I'd seen video of them awhile back and commented to Jon Teague (drummer in the three aforementioned Fort Worth bands, now living in Albuquerque) that "I saw video of this band and the drummer hits just like you!" Indeed, Rob Buttrum has the same slightly behind-the-beat, controlled violence with economy of movement as JT -- when Rob hit his kick and cymbals, I half expected to see my old Stoogeaphilia bandmate onstage. 

Shane Hutchinson plays a five-string bass that belonged to the late Yeti-TGT bassist Tommy Atkins, and he hits what we used to call the "Fort Worth brown note" the way Tommy did and Miguel Veliz (Sub Oslo, Suiciety) still does. When Hutchinson sings, he roars in a manner that summons the memory of the anguished vox on Yeti's post-Doug Ferguson outing Volume, Obliteration, Transcendence. (Shane was in a band that played on the very last Yeti show at the Wreck Room; we have different memories of who else was on the bill -- he says Kylesa, I say Graves At Sea. Perhaps JT will adjudicate this.) 

Over the top, in more ways than one, Stephen Lucas plays a synth that shrieks like a voice in terror. A thrilling sound; Stephen says they want to write new material and then record, but they still have copies of their Kadath cassette for those like me who are late to the party.

Next Molten Plains is scheduled for July 17 and it will be an improv lottery. As always, more surprises are in store.