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Neon Reverb recap: Vegas bands bring energy to showcase at 11th Street Records

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East Las Vegas post-punkers Close to Modern represented the veterans of the scene at Saturday’s National Southwestern Recording-hosted showcase at 11th Street Records.
Photo: Spencer Burton

Among Saturday’s five Neon Reverb showcases, the one hosted by National Southwestern Recording at 11th Street Records seemed the most unique. The venue, while certainly built for performance, is obviously unlike the other Reverb venues. Speaking of which, the showcase’s bill-topper, LA electro/indie act Moving Units, could have arguably headlined any of the other stages, but was placed on the one with the smallest audience capacity. While most of the other shows that night featured at least one non-headlining out-of-town act, this one’s support acts were exclusively from Las Vegas: Close to Modern, No Tides, The Musket Vine, Echo Stains and DJ Hektor Rawkerz.

Once I entered the intimate room Saturday night, two other aspects struck me as notable. For one, the majority of the musicians were Latino, and the same could be said for their audience, helping ensure that Neon Reverb was actually reflective of the Southern Nevada population it serves. And the running theme of the night seemed to be youth. Here we were, at the festival’s lone all-ages show, inside a room that’s 11 months old and making its Neon Reverb debut, watching bands that either were literally young or played music that expressed a youthful sentiment or spirit. Two of the bands I caught fell into the former camp, The Musket Vine and No Tides, while the other, Close to Modern, felt indicative of the latter.

The Musket Vine might’ve looked the youngest, but interestingly, they came across as the most relaxed—especially frontman Mahonry “Ace” Tovar, who plays rhythm guitar confidently and whose vocals often recall the poker-faced, Anglophilic romanticism of a young Brandon Flowers. Part of the band’s mostly laidback nature is projected in the striking breeziness of its post-punk. The musicians often springboarded from the jangly indie pop pioneered by The Smiths’ Johnny Marr and carried forward by modern acts like Beach Fossil (which The Musket Vine claims as an influence). Elsewhere, they sounded like a slowed-down Buzzcocks, though a song like “Rooftops” demonstrated more vigor, especially with Jorge “Danger” Aguiar ratcheting up his otherwise steady drumplay. By the end of their set, 40 minutes felt like a tease. Guitar-based rock doesn’t seem headed for the grave with bands as promising as this one.

The next act, No Tides, defies genre classification, as these guys seem interested in a wide swath of robust, retro guitar-rock, especially of the garage, punk and surf varieties. A reverb-laden instrumental recalled the latter’s rolling-wave imagery, as did moments during a faster number that might otherwise have leaned more toward rockabilly, or a pluckier one that carried shades of The Cramps. Tones and tempos changed frequently during Saturday night’s set. The foursome barreled through “La Sadgirl” with the blueprint-punk of The Clash, then decelerated a bit to interweave some doo-wop that didn’t feel like a musical non sequitur. Credit the dexterous fretwork of guitarists Robert Moreno (also the frontman) and Guadalupe Rodriguez, as well as the rhythm section (bassist John Gex and drummer Jessie Harris) deftly slowing and starting some of the songs’ momentum. The crowd responded with all manner of footwork, from the awkward shuffling of some particularly young onlookers to ladies doing the Twist and dudes getting a quick mosh and punctuating a riff-rich set.

If The Musket Vine and No Tides—and the similarly tenderfoot Echo Stains, last night’s first band—comprised the Vegas new school, the almost decade-old Close to Modern represented the veterans. However, despite its experience and devotion to late-1970s/early 1980s post-punk, the five men onstage hardly sounded like geezers. The East Las Vegas post-punkers came roaring out of the gate with two brisk, forceful numbers that merged with the tense, rapid-fire strumming—typically highlighted by how otherwise composed guitarist Fernando Lara pounced upon his Rickenbacker—and meaty basslines associated with Joy Division with the post-adolescent sturm und drang of Morrissey and The Smiths, the primary inspiration for dramatic baritone Miguel Martinez. It’s been awhile since I’ve watched Close to Modern perform, but on Saturday, it demonstrated discernible evolution, from its melodic and instrumental chops—all clearly heard thanks to 11th Street's (predictably) superior sound system—to its live presence. Creatively, the band still hews closely to its influences, though, frankly, it’s impressive how after nine years that reverence still produces such a sprightly energy—one mirrored by the restless crowd, physically enraptured by a sound and sentimentalism that will always sound young at heart.

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