In celebration of the release of their EP “Lynx Africa,” Strong Asian Mothers made a video on Brighton Beach with a sample of each song:

The band has two videos for the seemingly more popular songs of the EP, “The More That I” and “Out of Love,” as well but this video serves as their own representation of “Lynx Africa” as a whole.

Out of Love: As the first song of the EP, it begins with synthesized notes to progress into drum hits and simple lyrics. There is a ton of layering of beats and the synthesizer, with the additional layer of the lyrics that create their own rhythm. At times, the lyrics and surrounding aspects contradict each other. However, the main rhythm, from the drums, coincides with the lyrics to accentuate the combination.

Stay Down: This is the only track on the EP to begin with lyrics, which are very noticeably auto-tuned. While I’m never a fan of noticeably auto-tuned voices, this is probably my favorite song of the EP. There’s several lines of rapping about half way through the song that doesn’t coincide directly with any of the rhythms of the drums or synthesizer. However, I’m proven wrong towards the end of the song.

The More That I: The song begins with a smooth progression of synthesized beats and high-pitched humming but breaks the slow start with the entrance of drums. The lyrics of the song are full of rapped lines that either rhyme or partially rhyme. The lyrics are incredibly simple and line up with the drum hits. This clips the lines in a monotonous repetition. I’m not a huge fan of the lines, the rapping that lines up with the beat, or the synthesized notes in this song.

Megabucket: The layering continues with the drums and synthesizer. At times, the drum overpowers the synthesized rhythms but near the end of the song there is almost too much happening. The lyrics are nearly non-existent in this song. It is mostly just noises that might be words. While I could see this song playing at a club, it isn’t necessarily enjoyable. This track is hard to follow, like I’m being pulled in different directions while listening to it.

Initially, I heard “The More That I” and genuinely enjoyed the song. However, I was listening to snippets of each track on this EP. After listening to all four songs consecutively, I decided that they sound incredibly similar and are confusing as an album. As I stated in the description of “Megabucket,” the music is hard to follow. It seems decent for electronic dance music and that’s its’ only purpose. Though Strong Asian Mothers self-proclaims as a band with many influences, the most apparent influence I hear is the electronica, which overpowers all the rest. The EP itself is perfect for a summer party without analysis.

You can hear the EP “Lynx Africa” by Strong Asian Mothers below:

Feature Photo via: brandnewanthem.pl

The post Album Review: “Lynx Africa” by Strong Asian Mothers appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Alison Bechdel gave Iowa City the pleasure of her presence at The Englert Theatre last night for Mission Creek 2016. Her lecture was poignant, tender, and intimate. Her fans, the full theater, brought as much emotion to the show as Bechdel herself did.

The lecture moved lineally through her life as she consistently related her experiences back to drawing and writing. Bechdel brought her first attempts at drawing, which were projected behind her as she began describing her childhood.  These projections bared a side of Bechdel that a majority of the packed theater had not seen. She did show panels from Fun Home and Are You My Mother?, her two renowned memoirs, but included cartoons from Dykes to Watch Out For as well as life-size drawings between the end of writing Fun Home and its’ publication.

These childhood memories that she shared with the audience established an intimacy that I’ve rarely felt with a writer, let alone in a lecture. The drawings of a train, a complication with a man’s ticket, and the ensuing chase scene were incredibly simple and represented the time in which Bechdel’s drawing process was free-flowing and spontaneous.

In addition to the drawings, she shared the daily diary entries that evolved into a “practice of OCD,” as she put it. She began to write “I think” between words, which expressed simple tasks throughout the day, due to a doubt in the truth value. Eventually, these entries developed into scribbles to an indecipherable point. She expressed how these entries lead into the complication of her drawing process as a whole; the exact opposite of a spontaneous child.

Not only did Bechdel share moments of her life, the good and the bad, but she expressed how she persevered through depression. She touched on the idea of therapy as the catalyst for emotions. It wasn’t until her first session in which the therapist asks Bechdel if she’s mad about her father’s suicide. She says no immediately but then ponders. Ultimately, she considered the idea of feeling emotions fully.

The life-size drawings mentioned above were a method through which to feel.  They carried her through a break-up, her mother’s cancer, and the death of her cat, but not necessarily as a coping mechanism. She described them as drawings that utilized her full body, instead of her wrist and hand in comics, but also her full emotional capacity.

More than likely the lesser known of her works in a young audience is Dykes to Watch Out For, a series of comics displaying lesbians in a queer subculture. This comic strip for feminist media, prior to Fun Home and Are You My Mother?, expresses the opposite of the position in which Bechdel is situated by the media and the general public.

Bechdel discussed her time writing Dykes to Watch Out For. She had a menial temp job in New York and published these lesbian comics. Not just lesbian comics, but lesbian comics during a time when it wasn’t okay to be gay, illegal in fact. Her comics, published under her name, while being publicly “out” as a lesbian, was a political act in itself. She was at the center of the subculture.

This queer subculture is strange to consider now.

I attended the Q&A session just before her lecture. The same question was repeated, which was asked in several interviews as well: What do you think about being a part of the mainstream?

This question is referring to The Bechdel test and its immense popularity. I mentioned my attendance at the lecture to acquaintances and a majority asked if she designed that test, which Bechdel actually shyly denies. I refer to this phenomena because Bechdel has a myriad of layers that the mainstream is ignorant to. Her familial history is relatable, as much as it is unfortunate, but was formative for the woman that stood before us. I believe it’s important to consider Bechdel’s talent and accomplishments other than a test that might have originated from Virginia Woolf anyway.

If you are interested in all things Alison Bechdel, please click here to be directed to her website where you will find comic strips, information about books, news, reviews, and more.

Check out more events during Mission Creek here.

Photo cred for featured image: missionfreak.com

The post Mission Creek: Alison Bechdel @ The Englert 4/5/16 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

The first entrance on stage was a contributor, and DJ, to Lizzo’s act: Sophia Eris. She came out wearing a Riot Grrl hat and prepared the crowd for a mind-blowing performance of hip hop and intersectional feminism. The former seems strangely associated with a Sleater Kinney show, but the stance that night was in both acts: intersectional girl power.

Since this performance, Lizzo has released her newest album: “Big GRRRL Small World.” This title encompasses Lizzo’s self-identity: a big girl in a small world. She’s an incredible body-positive feminist that comments on race, gender, and politics in nearly every song. Her talent and image have caught the eyes of massive names in the world of hip hop including, but not limited to, Prince and Andre 3000. Even though I could go on for hours about the accomplishments and my immense appreciation for this woman, her album speaks for itself.

Ain’t I:

I’ve listened to past songs of Lizzo’s and this opening number somehow incorporates every type of sound and rhythm of beats that she has utilized in past tracks. This is a song that could be danced to but is fitting for a listen on a couch. That being said, I don’t like it as the opening song. It’s fantastic. It’s great. However, it doesn’t knock me down as I expected of her opener.

Betcha:

If you follow my album reviews, then you will find that I hate repetition. It is my least favorite aspect of this song. I still don’t dislike the song itself though. I am aware and can appreciate the fact that the repeated word, “betcha,” is producing a sound that contributes to the rhythmic patterns. These beats are always innovative and refreshing, which could be said for every song of Lizzo’s.

Ride:

Ride begins ominously and funky, creating a feel for dance more so than preceding songs. Her self-confidence fills her lyrics in every track, but it’s still surprising and refreshing when it’s so apparent. However, once again, repetition rears its annoying head. Perhaps my mention of repetition is getting repetitive?

Humanize:

The half-time beat is something I love and admire in hip hop. So far, in my listening experience, this is my favorite song. I haven’t heard this style in a lot of Lizzo’s music but I love this.

Bother Me:

She opens the song with one of my favorite songs of hers, Paris at Night. Naturally, that makes me predisposed to enjoying this one. Therefore, I take it back; this one is my favorite track from the album. This track showcases her rapping abilities while you could easily dance along. I don’t like the ending though. This strange electronic ballad is excruciating. The autotune is awful. The rain in the last seconds would have been more suitable for the previous ballad, Humanize.

B.G.S.W.:

Lizzo can rap, there’s no doubt about that. B.G.S.W. showcases her rapping ability more so than the musicality of the song. The beat’s still there obviously but it’s rather simple. The difference of producers in the songs is demonstrative in the use of autotune and simplicity–which is the case in this one because it’s a different producer than the previous ones.

The Fade:

There’s a different producer for The Fade but with a similar style of the previous song. There’s a showcase of her rap abilities with a heavier beat.

1 Deep:

The most poignant lyric: “What happen to a daddy girl when daddy don’t exist no more?” I felt sadder and more connected to Lizzo than I have before. This song is more personal than any I’ve heard by her. I felt it was reminiscent of a heavier song of hers that I saw during her opening for Sleater Kinney about racial inequality that included an excerpt from an MLK speech.

The Realest:

I’ve been trying to figure out my aversion to this song. I think I just typically enjoy songs that don’t include so much obvious autotune and that make me feel like dancing. However, Lizzo does sing more so in this song than in others.

En Love:

If you’re looking for the body-positivity in Lizzo’s music, this is the quintessential example. My favorite and repeated lyric: “I think I’m in love…with myself.” It does what All About that Bass does without being exclusionary of a specific body-type. I’m looking at you, Meghan Trainor. I love this song. I feel I could hear it in a club and it makes me want to go to one. The break down in the end is perfect.

My Skin:

Self-love and body positivity are central. “I woke up in this, my skin.” Lizzo also specifically calls out, “my brown skin.” She introduces the racial tensions that permeate all cultures. She recently released a video for this song, watch it below:

Jang A Lang: 

Racial tensions are at the forefront for this finale. From Lizzo’s social justice standpoint, she comments on the movements she participates in. In this way, it’s perfect for the final touch. She raps about cultural appropriation and the white fascination with black culture, specifically hair.

If you’d like to listen to Lizzo’s album “Big GRRRL Small World,” the full thing is on SoundCloud:

The post Album Review: “Big GRRRL Small World” by Lizzo appeared first on KRUI Radio.

My descent down the stairs was dark, until I entered the basement which bathed me in red light. An increasing number of people stood in front of the stage area.  J. Heuermann, who creates many flyers for the punk scene in Iowa City, performed first.

I had never heard a noise band before that night. It was a new experience, and a pleasant one at that; though I admit, it felt confusing at first. I initially thought issues with the sound system blared through the speakers. After the show ended, I realized the “issues,” were the music. After the fact, I appreciated it, even if it didn’t match my desire to dance (which is constant).  J. Heuermann’s set lasted only a few minutes before the crowd headed back outside to wait for The Inheritance.

The Inheritance: a self-proclaimed industrial, new-wave, and electronic band out of Chicago.

The heavy sound of this band was different than the other electronic music of the night, mostly because they were the most “conventional.” However, the electronic aspect is present in their music. I felt that a basement bathed in red light was perfect for their sound.

Once outside again, I stood by myself, looking at my phone and feeling a bit awkward. I wasn’t feeling incredibly outgoing. The majority of the people huddled together in small groups, likely trying to get warm. It was freezing, and the fire had died out. This was a different feeling than I have had at other shows. Whether a result of my being shy, the space, or the small amount of people that I knew there, I don’t know and attributing it to one thing would be difficult and unfair.

Last for the night was the band Heavvypetting, which I loved. The band included the host for the night, Jack Dugan, and, and Paul Osgerby. During the performance, Jack Dugan hit a plastic bucket onto some floor boards on the ground, painted with symbols.  This produced one portion of their sound, which was something like an electronic noise band. In addition to the plastic bucket, their set included a step stool and sound board. Paul drummed on the step stool while the electronic beat from the sound board played in the background.

Their sound was something like an electronic noise band, which is unlike anything I’ve heard before. The performance of their set has to be seen while heard, considering the creation of the noise is art in its own way.

The short set ended and we all meandered into the cold for the last time. A lot of groups stayed to talk and sit around the burned-out fire, which stood as a symbol for the dying party as people ventured into downtown Iowa City. I left shortly after talking to a few people about the show and the others that were upcoming.

Though the house shows in Iowa City typically feature relatively similar audiences, a new space, of which I’ve never been, can cause a sense of anxiety and exclusion. I believe this is simply because I don’t know the details and “rules” of the venue. I didn’t really know what kind of music I should expect. I do admit that I am usually relatively nervous attending any house show, or any concert really.

However, considering my increased anxiety over a brand new venue, perhaps the same theme from my first installment of Home is Where the Art is persists: the idea that the literal home is a factor in the level of comfort. I already stated that the privacy of a home causes anxiety in an extremely social situation, like that of a show, but maybe it’s exacerbated by the frequency of attendance at the venue.

I left feeling thankful for the exposure to new styles of music and facing a crowd of mostly acquaintances. Perhaps, the courage to meet new people and venture outside of your comfort zone is the first step to being inducted into a scene or venue.

Unfortunately, two out of the three bands mentioned are rather unknown, as well as unconventional; I cannot provide links for you to listen Heavvypetting or J. Heuermann. I believe that simply listening is not enough anyway. The performance is incredibly important. However, J. Heuermann was featured in Little Village about his flyers, and you can check out that interview here.

The featured photo was taken by me, at this venue, and shows Heavvypetting’s set.

The post Home is Where the Art is: Iowa City’s House Show Scene appeared first on KRUI Radio.

I simply saw the title of Okay Kaya’s “I’m Stupid But I Love You” and my stomach lurched. The title honestly explains the foolishness in falling into unrequited love. A listen and a read of the lyrics of this week’s Track of the Week, left me feeling incredibly connected with her sweet song of heartbreak.

As a fairly new artist based in New York, with Norwegian origins, Okay Kaya has been featured on a number of websites for the waves she’s making in music news. She has a few singles that have made it to Youtube, including “Clenched Teeth” and “Damn, Gravity” in which Okay Kaya serenades us about heartache, much like “I’m Stupid But I Love You.”

This somber track begins with piano chords that resonate and pair well with Okay Kaya’s high and sweet voice.

The song is instrumentally calming and creates a sad atmosphere that perfects the lyrics. This simplicity settles in the background and provides an important position for the lyrics at the forefront.

Okay Kaya poetically discusses the popular topic of heartbreak in an honest way that bares her soul and its insecurities. This lyrical poetry allows for a relation between Okay Kaya and the listener, including myself.

The lyrics (some of which are italicized above) are relevant for nearly everyone at one point, if not multiple, in their lives.

She somehow captures the sinking feeling of unrequited love that honestly tears open those old wounds without being overly sweet. It is my assumption that nearly everyone feels the same punch in the gut, heart, or whichever symbolically hurts the most after hearing this authentic track.

Check out the innovative video for Okay Kaya’s “I’m Stupid But I Love You”:

Main feature photo via: NME.com

The post Track of the Week: “I’m Stupid but I Love You” by Okay Kaya appeared first on KRUI Radio.

The singer and songwriter, Sevdaliza, is rather off the grid as of now.

Searching for her biography information is next to impossible. The only information available is that she was born in Iran and moved to The Netherlands at a young age. She emerged on the scene with her first official release, as well as a few tracks on Youtube and SoundCloud, with her video “Clear the Air,” which was featured on the website Pigeons and Planes in addition to the only biographical information online.

Sevdaliza released her most recent EP, Children of Silk, on November 24th of this year on SoundCloud. This was after another EP called The Suspended Kid, and several singles were uploaded to the website.

If you’re interested in artists like The Weeknd and Lana del Rey, then Sevdaliza’s sound is perfect for you. The EP, Children of Silk, is equal parts soothing, sensual, and haunting.

The EP begins with a song called, “The Inside.” Solely her voice and piano chords are present in the first few seconds of the song. The dissonant vocal tones prepare for a chilling sentiment through the end. The consistent and driving singular piano note adds to the eerie air. Eventually, an electronic keyboard and drum kit enter the mix and bring the soothing and sensual feel to the forefront. Near the end of the song, the notes of the piano begin to drop an added layer of dissonance. The lyrics are incredibly simple at only 12 lines with no more than 4 words in a stanza, which fits the track’s focus on the musical aspects.

There’s also a fairly strange music video paired with the song (which is NSFW):

“Amandine Insensible” is the proceeding track on Children of Silk. Quite possibly the most haunting moment of the entire EP is in the beginning of this song. This is a trickling down of piano notes that leads into the moment of which Sevdaliza reminded me of a mixture between Dido and The Weeknd, if there is such a thing. The beat of this song is reminiscent of “White Flag” by Dido, which includes a minute relation in the vocals, though they’re not entirely a similar sound. The slow tempo and melody create an intense sensuality that I’ve only ever discovered in The Weeknd’s earlier tracks before their mainstream appearance.

The penultimate song of Sevdaliza’s short EP is “Marilyn Monroe.” The beat of the previous song carries over to solidify a dark form of R&B, which is similar to The Weeknd’s sound, if not even more so. This track is specifically reminiscent of “What You Need” by The Weeknd. The haunting qualities are still present, though only slightly so, due to it being the most sensual song of the EP. In contrast, the lyrics of this track are rather sad. Sevdaliza sings, “I’m tryin’ to fix myself / And not care / Too much about you.” An underlying theme of empowerment outside of codependent relationships is refreshing in the midst of a sea of ballads that perpetuate the idea of dependency.

Lastly, Children of Silk features “Men of Glass” with a featured artist by the name of Rome Fortune. Sevdaliza ends the album with a soft violin sound as she croons the repeating line “This man of mine,” a rather possessive lyric. Rome Fortune eventually chimes in while rapping lines that seem to represent the man that needs to be fixed in the song prior. The lyrics speak to a sense of self-worthlessness. The song is rather slow and simple, though this could be my opinion peaking through. I prefer the other songs because of the way they’re unconventionality situated in the R&B genre, meaning that they bring that innovative haunting quality to the forefront while maintaining a simple and steady beat.

Sevdaliza’s EP Children of Silk was just, for lack of other wording because I’m so impressed, so fucking cool. She somehow mixes chill and soothing music, perfect for studying, with a dissonant and haunting quality that is wrapped with a bow of immense sensuality. If you like the R&B genre, or any of the musicians/artists mentioned above, definitely check this EP out, including her singles.

The post Album Review: “Children of Silk” by Sevdaliza appeared first on KRUI Radio.

When Sam arrived in Iowa City, there was a punk music scene circulating through the house shows. These intimate concerts included more music scenes than the ones closest to his heart, like the EDM and jam bands. This collective house show scene existed but it had room to expand in physical size, frequency, and the diversity of bands and participants.

This launched the following question for Sam: “Is it diverse?”

Looking from the outside in, it may look like not. Without any insight into the lives of those involved with this scene, it might seem like a sea of people in jackets, of the leather or denim fabric, that devote their lives to the underground music scene. However, this community, and those of other music scenes and venues, contain different individuals with separate personalities that also happen to spend an inordinate amount of time in basements.

As Sam details in our interview, the audience varies. Though relatively similar groups are spotted at multiple venues of different music scenes, they still vary. There are those involved in the EDM/Techno/trip-wave scenes, simply outside of the mainstream music. There are English nerds and majors, maybe the two are synonymous. This includes art nerds, townies, students, and other eccentric categories. This spectrum of diversity is a product of Iowa City and it being college town.

However, these characteristics do not label any attendees, just as their attendance at house shows does not either. The persona of a specific music scene might not even carry outside of these intimate houses. There are people in the communities that only emerge for these shows and never return home listening to these bands that they’ve just seen.

How is this diversity cultivated?

It is usually based on the host or organizer. For Sam specifically, it isn’t a conscious effort to include certain groups. He sees it as unnecessary to go out of the way for the attendance of a specific group because the invitation of friends is more authentic.

“It’s a complicated thing. I don’t think about it. I just invited people that I think will like it…people that I know and that I like,” Sam comments.

It is then usually a constant that these attendees will be sociable and amicable people, which is extremely important when in the private space of someone else’s home. However, this implies that induction creates the necessity of already knowing someone in the scene.

Similar to the audience, the hosts vary in personality and style as well. At the same time, this translates onto the venue. Every show and every house is different in atmosphere and this depends on the host’s preferences and their friend base. Though a large majority of the house shows that I attend are for punk music, the crowd is typically different.

This does not change the quality of the experience; it’s simply different.

The following installment of Home is Where the Art is will explore this idea in an example situated in a separate venue than Governor’s Mansion.

Also, Sam hosts his own radio show for KRUI on Sunday nights/Monday mornings at 12 AM until 2 AM. It’s called Codependent Music and he plays punk music, talks about punk music, and usually makes fun of his co-star throughout the entire night.

You want to see more of Home is Where the Art is?! Feel free to go here and check out the most recent article, in case you missed it.

The feature photo is from Sam Meyer’s Facebook and the photographer is Antonio Rodriguez.

The post Home is Where the Art is: Iowa City’s House Show Scene appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Initially, I noticed the beat and the necessity to dance during the first song, called “In the Beginning” featuring Nathan Nicholson. This beginning track reminded me of a sound akin to James Blake with more up-beat energy. The lyrics were significant and obvious for a first track on an album: “This is where my life begins.” I enjoyed this opening, as straightforward as it is, and thought that it set the perfect mood for the next twelve songs.

The beat of the first track continued through the ending of the first and into the beginning of the second track. The redundancy combined with a build-up to a drop with a piano and heavier bass sound. The rest of this track, “The Only Thing,” had a sound of mellow piano.

“Dear Life,” featuring Jaw, consisted of a consistent bass beat and transformed into a similar melancholic, almost sad, melody. At this point I began to realize I did not have much more to say other than I enjoyed the beat and felt the need to dance.

The fourth song on the album, called “Heartbeat,” featuring Nathan Nicholson, was the most redundant of the album so far. The lyrics never changed, it was mostly Heartbeat being repeated over and over again, with no drastic changes of the beat in the previous songs to this one.

I was gladly surprised by the next song on the album. “Puppet Theatre,” featuring Peter, Bjorn, and John, all rather vague names for artists, was a breath of fresh air in the form of a creepy and dark melody.

The name in itself is strange, especially considering “Puppet Theatre” is repetitively incorporated into the lyrics. This is included in a darker and funkier sound that reminded me of a track that could be played at a Halloween party or in a campy Halloween movie, which is the only way I can think of describing this wonderfully strange track.

By far, my favorite song on the album was “The Music Got Me.” This was the funkiest, meaning there was more to the rhythm than the driving beat of the tempo, and the one that felt the most easily dance-able. There aren’t a lot of lyrics but I distinctly remember my foot tapping unconsciously, which shows that the title is true to it’s name.

However, immediately following was my least favorite song, “Anything,” featuring Jaw. This continued the string of funky rhythms but the beat and lyrics were incredibly redundant.

The ninth song on this album is called “Party Girl,” featuring Jimi Tenor, which had an interesting and refreshing beat and weird lyrics that were a little funny, talking about drugs and party girls that only want to hang out, but the sound of the vocals was not agreeable to my ears. The tenth song had a refreshing bass beat that I had not yet heard on the album.

The next few songs were all relatively similar to the first nine. There was a heavy bass beat, sometimes an incorporation of instrumental sounds that offered a refreshing break, and my desire to dance persisted throughout my listening of “Charmer.” The tenth and thirteenth songs are redundant and how I would expect an EDM song to sound with a driving beat produced for the purpose of dancing. The eleventh and twelfth had different beats and instruments incorporated in the song, “No Eyes” and “Ghost,” and were refreshing after listening to this album in one sitting.

After listening to Clatpone’s album, “Charmer,” I realized that EDM/House/Deep House music is not my favorite, with the exception of hearing a song or two at a club and not an hour and a half of it straight. I also realize that I do not have much to say about the songs with the exception of aspects about the bass, tempo, and lyrics. However, the redundancy is not necessarily a negative aspect. I assume, without an extensive knowledge of the techno scene, that a relatively similar tempo and bass are necessary for a long night of ceaseless dancing. For your own personal dance party, check out the album here:

Check out Claptone on Soundcloud and Twitter.

Feature Image via: news.beatport.com

The post Album Review: “Charmer” by Claptone appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Somehow I found myself invited into a scene of artists and musicians largely because of this role, allowing for basic relationships with regular customers. After working at John’s, I would run into acquaintances from the store in public and at houses, bringing these relationships outside of the store.

The regulars that I see nearly everyday are purchasing groceries: inherently a domestic act. When I see them outside of the store, they’re in their or others’ houses, at house shows usually. I see everyone’s purchases, which divulges intimate details about their lives. I can comment on the purchase or choose to stay silent. However, either way, there is an intimacy already created between myself and the customers prior to interactions outside of John’s. While there is an intimate acquaintanceship, the domesticity of grocery shopping is destabilized by the fact that they’re usually buying beer. Their purchases of alcohol detract from the domestic space of their homes and supports the entertainment aspect of house shows.

Once I went to my first house show, which was also a reading, I realized how unnerving it was to walk into a home in which there was no one that I knew. Sometimes even a home full of acquaintances can be the most awkward and terrifying part of the evening. Somehow the uneasiness is worse than meeting strangers in other settings, like a bar or a concert.

The first house show on the agenda for this semester was at Governor’s Mansion and I was nervous. The line up for the night included: Maiden Mars, an all-girl band from Iowa City; Teddy Bomber, from Champaign, Illinois; and Rational Anthem, an Iowa City pop punk band that I have had the pleasure of seeing prior to this show.

Let me preface this article by clarifying that I am not analyzing bands’ sets in a traditional concert review. I will not be analyzing the music. I may include anecdotes about the bands’ performances for purely informative reasons and to supplement the portrayal of mine and other’s experiences.

As is true with Governor’s Mansion and other houses, each will have a different musical genre in attendance. However, respectively, they are all inclusive in Iowa City’s house show society.

This specific night, at Governor’s Mansion, began at 9:00 pm. The floor of the first level began vibrating, signaling that Maiden Mars’ set was starting. The unfinished basement had not yet started smelling of sweat, as it would later in the night. Proclaiming themselves as a Riot Grrl-esque band on their bandcamp is fitting. One of the girls said something along the lines of, “This guitar’s really out of tune and I don’t give a fuck,” which showcases a refreshing bad-ass attitude paired with their heavier pop-punk sound. Overall, their set was extremely well-received within the basement space.

Between sets, the majority of the audience needed relief from the humid heat of the basement. I followed the crowd to the back porch and sat observing. Casually, I began talking with Rica, a John’s regular, who offered me a healing rock to hold while I introduced myself to another regular, Jessica.

To informally interview them, I asked, “What do these shows do for you? What do they provide in your life?”

Rica, like others, attends these events to support local and travelling musicians. However, this is not the only reason for her regular attendance. Jessica and Rica both agreed that house shows provide a familial vibe due to the close-knit group of people. However, unless close friends are in attendance, a sea of strangers in this setting can feel isolating. In similar spaces, Rica feels a different vibe. There will probably be a fair number of strangers in a bar. However, there is no necessity to talk to someone because of a bar is a public space. More than likely, no one will bat an eyelash at your solitude. We arrived at the idea of inclusion, but the rest of the attendees made a dash for the basement door, signaling the end of the interview.

Teddy Bomber began their set. The basement had started to fill with lovers of punk and their friends. In this moment, the humidity and smell of physical exertion had started to accumulate, reminding everyone of the level of attendance in the close space. Not many in attendance at this show had heard of the band before. Unknown and away from home, Teddy Bomber was possibly the least acquainted with the Iowa City punk scene, but the audience welcomed them. This band is perfect for a basement show, as Sam Meyer, the host of this show at Governor’s Mansion told me. Teddy Bomber fit the pop punk and garage band genres with a hint of grunge. There were several heads bobbing and others banging as the band played a song about “not being like a bro but still really liking to get drunk.” No one had known this band well before the show but I desperately wanted to after.

I hung around in the basement while Rational Anthem set up instead of heading upstairs. I talked and joked around with friends and acquaintances

To end the evening, Rational Anthem played one of their best sets that I’ve seen. Their pop-punk sound filled the room with energy, making it incredibly easy to dance or bang your head. They also just recently left for tour, including The Fest. After that tour, they’re traveling to Europe!

Sam stood in front of me, looking back every now and then to bang his head and scream the lyrics in my face. There was a couple next to me head banging so heavily that I knew their necks would be sore in the morning. A majority of the people next to me, in front, were physically participating in the camaraderie. I understood that, as is true for other spaces, having these connections made this experience enjoyable. It filled that familial space, which sometimes empties after leaving what was home, that creates the feeling of being essential: the sentiment that if you left, your absence would be noticed.

Generally, myself and others seemed among friends. At least this was true of the front of the crowd. The number of people nearly expanded to the back of the room. After observation of both spaces, the front is usually more invested in the show and the back group of people mingle and stay stagnant. The sense of inter-connectivity in the front seems intimate and the back seems less so, but still inviting.

Those more invested in the show have a shared interest. Those further back conversed in pockets of friends or acquaintances, more excluded from others around them. The level of interest in the band, and prior experiences, shapes the experience of the house show.

Connectivity to the band and other attendees is dependent on prior inclusion and level of participation in the scene.

Without prior inclusion through past coworkers and acquaintances, I might have stood by the merchandise table while holding my flannel and occasionally writing in my blue notebook. The domestic environment of a house show makes the environment different from a bar or a music festival. The venue begs for an intimate connection to others; otherwise, it feels like encroaching on someone’s personal space and as if belonging relies on intimacy before passing through the front door.

“Home is Where the Art is: Iowa City’s House Show Scene” is a recurring column, published bimonthly, that shares the author’s and attendees’ experiences, discusses the bands’ shows, and analyzes the intimate space. 

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