Fucking shit up in Albuquerque

Hippy raver dance and party synths from Portland included.

Gold House is a tiny house near the University of New Mexico that routinely packs tons of kids into its living room and basement for shows. Arranged in a ring around the band, the audience managed to fuck shit up within some very slim parameters.

Portland’s Guidance Counselor played fun, spazzy dance punk that made everyone jump up and down until the flimsy floor shook. It was a nice balance of noise and pop that I might describe on a generous day as Bloc Party meets Health meets Q and Not U. Sometimes the singer’s shouty vocals reminded me of David Byrne; at others, he sounded like Ty Kube from Team Robespierre.
Next, we descended into the basement (or “dungeon” as some described it) for the sprawling prog rock of North America. The drummer incorporated some techno beats, bringing it dangerously close to rave territory. Some girls did a ravey hippie arm-waving dance. “This group is basically Rush,” my friend texted me.

Between sets, a giant cat stretched out on the floor taking up as much space as he could. When I tried to pet him, he bit me. That cat is a fat jerk who does not know how to hang.

When my friend told me earlier that we were seeing a band called Starfucker, I’d said “sounds like decadent electro-punk, ha ha.” Turns out I called it. With samples spun off a vinyl record, they’re a lot poppier than Guidance Counselor, with whom they share a drummer. Stylistically, I’d put them somewhere in the jumpy place between The Faint and Matt and Kim. The crowd went especially nuts when they started in on a weird electro version of “Walk on the Wild Side.” The singer took a break from bouncing to introduce his band. “Thank you, we’re the Shins from Portland Oregon.” Womp womp.