Review: AVLFest — Day 1

Asheville Stages should be thankful I don’t get reimbursed mileage for my reviews.

The action at AVLFest — a new music festival organized by Wicked Weed Brewing and Worthwhile Sounds — is spread across the Asheville map, from The Outpost in the west to Highland Brewing Co. in the east. And while I stayed on the west side of town for the festival’s first night on Aug. 3, I still racked up a lot of bike peddling between venues.

The reward for my sweat was a bevy of great music from across the genre spectrum. Here are the broad strokes from my AVLFest.

Polly Panic

I kicked off the night at The Grey Eagle with Asheville’s own Polly Panic. The art rock project has been cellist Jenette Mackie’s main creative outlet for the past 15 years, and she’s clearly mastered the use of effects pedals to transform her acoustic instrument into a thick wall of distortion. 

Mackie has also toured as part of Rasputina, and I heard a lot of similarities between her songwriting and that of the pioneering cello rock group. There’s an atmosphere of gothic darkness, as well as an emphasis on the contrast between high female vocals and crunchy strings. (She took that approach to great effect on a cover of Blind Melon’s “No Rain” that stripped out all the sunshine from the original version.)

As a cellist myself, I loved hearing Mackie take the instrument in such a fearless direction. But I found her set to plod a bit in terms of tempo and overly similar drum work accompanying many songs.    

The Tallboys

Cycling up Haywood Road, I arrived at One World West in time for local rockers The Tallboys. Normally a four-piece, the group had filled out for the festival with the addition of keyboardist Oliver Mooney, son of lead guitarist Jeff Mooney.

The keys, along with liberal use of three-part vocal harmony, helped give the band a great classic blues-rock sound that, to me, compared favorably with Dire Straits. Everyone was clearly having fun onstage — perhaps none more so than frontman Bill Melanson, dancing to the beat and wisecracking between songs.

“I’ve been told that it’s yacht rock,” Melanson joked about one of the group’s latest numbers. And while it’s fair to say that the songwriting didn’t break new ground, it was well done and supported a heck of a good time. Particular kudos go to bassist James Fisher and drummer David Cohen for a rhythm pocket at once funky and rock-solid.

Brushfire Stankgrass

Back down the hill I went to Salvage Station. By now I’d worked up an appetite, and any telling of my festival experience would be incomplete without mentioning the venue’s Root Down Kitchen — the nachos, loaded with roasted corn and chipotle-infused cheese, were life-giving.

I polished off the basket of chips before heading inside to hear Asheville’s Brushfire Stankgrass. The four-piece adds banjo to the standard power trio of guitar, bass, and drums, yielding a sound that draws on both garage rock and the jamgrass of acts like Yonder Mountain String Band.

The group took a little bit to lock in, with Ben Saylor’s banjo at times drowned out by the rest of the instruments. Once those balance issues resolved, however, the jams got grooving. Bassist Daniel Iannuci kept up a fluid low end, while Will Saylor showed a fine sensibility for shaping purposeful guitar solos. 

Rod Hamdallah

I popped out of the Salvage Station a bit early to take a chance on my first out-of-town artist of the night, Atlanta-based Rod Hamdallah. And on arriving at Fleetwood’s in West Asheville, I was overwhelmingly glad I did.

The tiny venue was the perfect setting for Hamdallah’s sweaty, muscular blend of garage, blues, and punk. His power trio was loud, yes, but no less soulful or intentional for the volume; I couldn’t help but make comparisons to a young Jack White.

The way Hamdallah launched into his solos was a joy to watch, as if the intensity of his feeling could find no other expression. And his uptempo cover of the old standard “St. James Infirmary Blues,” with his bassist switching over to blast the saxophone, felt like it could have blown the roof off the venue.

The JLloyd Mashup

“If this were in New York City, this ticket would be $125,” an audience member told me unprompted as I settled in to see The JLloyd Mashup at One World West. I don’t know what the going rate for impeccably tight jazz is in the Big Apple, but after hearing the Asheville combo, I could be convinced.

The seven-piece is formally led by trombonist/vocalist Jonathan Lloyd, but I think it’s better to say the group is led by the beat. Together, its players were the definition of unselfish musicianship. Each was clearly able to rip a searing solo at any time, but they always maintained discipline such that no notes detracted from the cohesion of the ensemble.

I was especially taken by percussionist Jason DeCristofaro and the way his choice of subtle instruments — a triangle here, a cabasa there — shifted the color of the groove. The crowd repaid this attention to detail by dancing with abandon, myself included.

Daikaiju

I thought “swinging from the rafters” was just an expression. Daikaiju took it literally at The Grey Eagle.

The Houston-based surf punk group put on a bonkers performance to close out AVLFest’s Thursday offerings. Playing from behind Japanese kabuki masks and communicating only by gesture, the band’s five pseudonymous members (using names like Ultra-girl and Blast-man) showed seemingly boundless energy through an hour of fast-paced instrumentals.

I’d be hard-pressed to recall a single melody or songwriting moment from Daikaiju’s unrelenting attack, but that would be a bit beside the point. Instead, I remember the lead guitarist crowd-surfing through an entire solo and the two drummers moving their kits from the stage to the floor piece-by-piece while still banging away.

It was hard to tell when the show even ended, because the band handed all of their instruments over to the crowd mid-song. And the audience kept jamming as I made my way for the door. 

(Photo by Fiasco Media)