If you have the profound interest in Nirvana that I do, you'll know that Melora Creager started her proper career as a cellist on the final Nirvana tour, an occupation that "taught her lessons in avoidance of immense fame, which she has successfully practiced since. " Shortly after her stint with the unfortunately-not-so-immortal Kurt Cobain's group, she formed the Traveling Ladies' Cello Society, which promptly mutated into the Rasputina that we know and love today, a Victorian feminist cello rock Goth band conglomeration thing. Although Rasputina changes its line-up nearly as often as Lady GaGa changes her outfits, the band is still going strong, consisting now of Melora, Daniel DeJesus (the group's first male cellist), and Catie D'Amica on percussion.
Attending a Rasputina concert is a little bit like going to an incredibly enthusiastic recital; there isn't going to be any moshing, nothing will get out too of hand, but you've also never seen cellists play until their stings nearly popped off either. Melora is a delight, though a cold one; her patter is constant and clever, almost more suited to a standup routine or a magician's show, but she never seems to lose her calm quiet demeaner, either, that motherly attitude of hers toward the audience and her fellow bandmates. DeJesus, clearly the least experienced, and experiencing problems with his cello's end-pin which required masking tape and finally a hold-between-the-knees approach, received sympathetic looks from Melora throughout, and finally a drawled, "I can wait for you all day, honey." When you go to see Rasputina, know that you're three feet from professionals, and while they're not nearly as subdued as a Ben Sollee style pop-cellist, they're also not going to go punk band crazy on you. It's pleasant, and they're damn good, but you still almost do wish they would traipse just a little bit more off the deep end.
3.8/5
Rasputina - Holocaust Of Giants [mp3]
The real showstopper and delight for me at this concert, though, was, surprisingly, the opening performer, Larkin Grimm. Her life alone is something I can admire - born into a hippie commune run by "The Holy Order of MANS" to parents of German, Sinti, Afro-Caribbean, English, French, and Cree descent (which may explain her her utterly exotic beauty), the young Larkin Grimm attended Yale for some years, only to drop out and wander the wilds of Alaska. It was then she began singing, and dear God, what singing. I haven't gotten chills from a live performance in quite sometime, but her deep, rich voice set the hairs on the back of my neck twirling.
Larkin's performance was augmented and altered from her usual freak folk with the addition of a crazy-awesome drummer (whose hatful of feathers posed a most entertaining distraction, billowing in the wake of his enthusiastic pounding) and a bassist and back-up singer, Cindy Lou Gooden, whose own little band, V. Fresh, I find quite delightful. Altogether, a phenomenal performance. Make no mistake, I am now stalking you, Lady Grimm.
5/5
Larkin Grimm - Dominican Rum [mp3]
And from Cindy Lou Gooden:
V. Fresh - The Clientele [mp3]
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