The Young Evils owe as much to their grunge soaked hometown as to the entire 90’s decade for the radio-alternative garage pop style they employ. Their charge is to churn out lightheartedly catchy songs that hook in before they reveal their quiet sense of jadedness. Think cheeky boy-girl pop like The Muffs, The Vaselines, or basically anything that gave sound to some of the “classic films” from the era (Clueless, Reality Bites, Singles). Occasional country flares in the vein of The Heartless Bastards give them a folky edge, while a distinct likeness to the rhyme-spunk of the Exploding Hearts tag them as Northwest natives. And while it's all well and good to sound like a lot of other bands - good ones at that - it's no accomplishment to be construed as a copycat. These folks deserve some credit, though, for establishing a very un-evil style all their own; a style that especially shines when the disparate personas of all five members bounce off one other during live performance.
Lead guitarist/songwriter, Troy Nelson, was my best guess as to who the ‘evil’ part in their name referred to. His eyes were the most evil I’d seen aside from Michael C. Hall’s in Dexter (which is by no means a bad thing). He glared sinisterly at the audience as if acting the part of a Shakespearean villain, while Mackenzie Mercer sang sprightly alongside him like a guest host on Sesame Street. Clad in cowboy boots, black tights, high-waist shorts, and an “I’m a Mac” tee, Mackenzie killed the crowd with cuteness as she coyly grooved sans-instrument and giggled with the drummer between choruses. Watching Faustine Hudson on drums was fantastic as well. At once deadpan and goofy, she whacked away at the drums with every limb like a 'Happy Halloween' inflatable lawn spider. In direct contrast to this spectacle was Mr. Cody Hurd on (a gorgeous) guitar. Adorable and also a bit shy, he self-assuredly sported a short blond Mohawk as he gracefully swayed and strummed. Last, and most important, bassist Barrett Jones did his thing discreetly as if he were some last minute addition to the show. Turns out, he produced the band's album, Enchanted Castle (as well as a few by little-known bands like Nirvana, Foo Fighters, and The Melvins). Altogether the members contribute and exchange their own essential components: introspection, bounce, animation, grace, and know-how to create smart, uplifting and balanced pop-rock with a uniquely wide appeal.
The Young Evils had it all backwards, though. They started a party-in-reverse – driving the energy prematurely into the crowd’s still-sober bodies before the Cave Singers could provide the buildup. Both bands did have a consistently chipper entourage of supporters in the audience which made for a fun and welcoming mood overall.
The Cave Singers paint a different picture of fun than The Young Evils; taking us out of the brightly colored urban-pop Seattle and depositing us somewhere amongst its hushed wilderness outskirts. Evergreen on so many levels, the trio are always a joy to see live no matter if it’s the first time or the fifteenth. Peter Quirk is a spirited and gifted musician; a storyteller with wisdom buried in the syntax of his poetry, and at the same time, comfortable with life’s mysteries. Apparent in his movement and expression is a wholehearted love of musicianship, from writing songs to performing and touring and living out of motels. That night he lamented the end of the band’s most recent tour, explaining that after six-weeks on the road he should have been more than happy to finally collapse on his own couch and soak up the sweetness of home. Instead, as he explained, he called up the guitarist amidst the stark predictability of his own surroundings and recommended they “go stay at a hotel or something.”
The set was short and threw no curves. No confetti rained from the ceiling after they played "Dancing on Our Graves" as their final encore, no fights erupted over who stood in the front row, no strobe lights or fog machines pulsed to enhance the mood; just a polite exchange of admiration between musicians and fans. So, to the Cave Singers, I return the sentiment you extended to us that night: You are handsome, beautiful, and wonderful. Thanks for coming out.
