Never attending a show at the Warhol museum, I was not quite sure what to expect.  And, to be honest, I was slightly disappointed by the set up but extremely satisfied with their more than exceptional handling of the event. People who actually knew what was going on were there to direct and manage, but were also very approachable and helpful.  The theater itself was small and intimate but I suggest sitting toward the middle/back so the speakers are not drowning out the singers for you.  

As the lights came down and a melodic piano intro played over the speakers, the packed room at Mr. Small’s began to cheer in anticipation of the leading act on June 21. The four members of The Spill Canvas stormed the stage to start their set off with “Polygraph, Right Now.” 

Unfortunately, it seemed to take nearly the entire set for both the band and audience to feel any kind of excitement. With little interaction, awkward melodic pauses between songs and lead singer Nick Thomas’ intense demeanor (does the guy ever smile?), it was difficult to feel anything but restlessness until the last few selections. 

Sometime between midnight, when I got home, and 6 AM, when I got up to face the cold light of the following morning, my ears stopped ringing.  That night, I had been right up front for James McMurtry’s red-hot set, Wednesday night at Club Café.  It was a GOOD discomfort.  

Standing-room-only shows are rare at Club Café, at least in my experience; Wednesday night was SRO shortly after the door opened.  Opening act Jonny Burke, a 25-year-old (I heard him say so himself) with what Shakespeare once called “a lean and hungry look” about him, did a nice job of warming up the crowd, playing what sounded to me like 80’s-style jangly-chimey power pop, with a Southern edge, complete with a quasi-adolescent vocal persona that made me wonder how much time he may have spent listening to another Texas artist—Slaid Cleaves.  This said, Burke sold it well, taking full advantage of his slot in the program, singing and playing as if he meant every word, holding the crowd’s attention without trying to steal the show.  I didn’t get the title of what seemed to be his signature song, but it had a nice payoff line, repeated over and over:  “Don’t burn out now.”  Words to live by—not just for a musician.

Thursday, July 8th was a great day to be inside. With temperatures in the 90’s and humidity hovering around ball-stickingly uncomfortable levels any retreat from the heat was welcome; The few hundred people in Mr. Small’s Theater, however, were even more lucky because not only were they cooler (especially those around the center of the back bar who had an air conditioning vent blowing right above their heads) but they also bore witness to a great show. (Please note use of words like ‘heat’ and ‘witness’ is in no way an intentional reference to LeBron James as this day was after all the same date as “The Decision”.)

At Pittsburgh’s Brillobox, in a tiny upstairs room, the stage was set for Sleigh Bells and Nerve City to perform in front of a diminutive crowd during the Fourth of July weekend.  The small crowd was definitely a bit reserved for the first set, yet it was apparent that there was an obvious eagerness about the group of onlookers to find out what the show would be like.  Soon thereafter it was evident that the buildup was indeed over and show finally had begun.  

Nerve City kicked it off with what seemed like a mix of garage rock and an airy west coast sound.  It was different and the audience seemed to appreciate the band’s raw stage presence.  They played a few tracks from their newly release EP, ‘Sleepwalker,’ and several times during their set they alluded to the fact that they needed a place in Pittsburgh to crash and that they had been drinking for a while before the set.  It seemed like they were enjoying their time in Pittsburgh.