Steven Oberlechner

O'Death

In the mid-to-late '90s, O'Death haunted Brooklyn's creaky loft spaces as cracker-barrel mad men, an angry Man Man who worshipped Neil Young instead of Captain Beefheart, wore overalls instead of dirty white linens. As country-noise loons, the five piece was best known for yelling, hooting, hollering, stamping, and glaring like they might beat the shit out of you--or each other--and regularly attacked the stage like they'd just been rescued out from under a cinderblock-propped car, instruments and all.

At Brooklyn Bowl's inaugural concert this past Friday, local country/punk boys O' Death were, as usual, 3/5ths shirtless, though the nudity was perhaps unnecessary given the new Williamsburg/Greenpoint entertainment complex's four massive, overly compensatory ceiling fans. Along with the multi-purpose space's handsome leather sofas, dark wooden tables, full DJ booth, Blue Ribbon food menu, and myriad giant television high-def screens, the venue's dauntingly massive cooling system perhaps helps explain the 16-lane alley and 594-capacity music venue's long gestation and $50/hour "premium" lane pricing. (As in: you pay extra to bowl during show times, even though you've already shelled out for a ticket just to get in).

Only Manhattan could spawn such earnest, anachronistic rural folk as the goth-country collective O’Death. More impressive is how the only real big-city giveaway in their sound is vocalist Greg Jamie’s pained, Chloraseptic-welcoming yelps. Otherwise, the band’s mastered the almost claustrophobic need for space that once preoccupied so much of the early folk music O’Death are presently inspired by. It’s disconcerting how real it all feels at times. With Ponytail, USAISAMONSTER, and Woods. — KORY GROW.

O'DEATH, Music Hall of Williamsburg, 66 N 6th St., Brooklyn, NY Phone: 718-486-5400. Tickets still available here.

These people did not get there on time; photo by Cami D

Pointer about shows at Soundfix Records: Be punctual. A couple Saturdays ago, while the many of you were watching hi-fi equipment incarnate at SummerStage, about 70-ish of us agoraphobic types trickled into Soundfix's back lounge area to see a show somewhere it wasn't raining balls. The afternoon's excuse was Oneida (new and improved—with a wind instrument and an Ex-Models guitarist!), a longtime band of Brooklyn art-rockers whose hour-worth of meandering guitar squalls and organ-spazz jams, along with a particularly rockin' coke-head taunt called "Snow Machine," were all a rather fine complement to a $5 Hoegaarden at four in the afternoon.

Havta admit, though, I'm a sucker for the place since it's been redone. Sometimes bands list their shows there as "in-store" performances, but it's not like they're serenading CD racks—it's a backroom venue with a bar. Been there twice in the last month and both times they blared Battles' mathy-Black-Diced anthem "Atlas"—never a bad look. Sightlines aren't terrific considering that the band is barely elevated, but the room's laidback, with large sunny windows and a little patio area for smokers. Again, the Hoegaarden.

Back to that tip: get there on time. Got there for Oneida at the scheduled hour and managed to grab a barstool—within 20 minutes, the entire back room was packed, standing-room only. A week or two earlier for Lonely Dear/Sea and the Cake, I got there 15 minutes late, the room was rush-hour L-Train touchy-feely, so I spent Lonely Dear's set with elbows in my body parts. That was a couple degrees of suck.

Anyway, some really great upcoming free shows at Soundfix.

Friday, Jun 29: Bryan Scary and the Shredding Tears, 8pm
Sunday, Jul 1: Dengue Fever, 7pm
Thursday, Jul 12: Patton Oswalt, 8pm
Saturday, Jul 14: Balun, 6pm
Sunday, Jul 15: Land Of Talk, 8pm
JUST ADDED, Friday, July 20: Lewis & Clarke CD release, 8 pm
Saturday, July 21: O'Death [time TBA]
Saturday, July 28: Get Him Eat Him, 3pm
Saturday, August 18: Black Moth Super Rainbow, 3pm

Oneida, bad photo by Cami D

On the left, that's Shahin Motia, who plays with Oneida drummer Kid Millions in the Ex-Models

Beach House at Soundfix Records, last CMJ, courtesy of Soundfix

Beirut at Soundfix last summer/before reopening, courtesy this dude

Leave me dead, leave me dead, by a tree

O'Death remind me of convicts. Specifically, death-row convicts cast to personify Emmett Otter's Jug Band in a win-or-die prison-reality-TV talent show—a prime-time affair that'd be pitched in Hollywood as Shawshank Redemption meets The Running Man meets Making the Band. O'Death wouldn't win, of course, they'd invariably lose to some pretty-boy snakecharmer felon, the Blake Lewis of reality Oz, but it'd be hella fun to watch them live (die?) up to their name.

Live, they're frickin intense dudes. They yell, holler, hoot, freak, stamp, punch, slap, glare at you like they might beat the shit out of you—or each other. They're like an angry Man Man, if Man Man worshiped Neil Young instead of Captain Beefheart. But while Man Man wear matching white crazy suits, O'Death show up mostly shirtless or in overalls—like they just climbed out from under a cinderblock-propped car. What's even more oddly spectacular is that they look like cracker-barreled versions of more-recognizable figures: the bookish banjo player looks like Chuck Klosterman's cousin (that'd be Gabe Darling); the frontman, like Alec Ounsworth's bearded brother (Greg Jamie); the fiddle player like Steve Buscemi's nephew (Bob Pycior); the drummer seems like he belongs skydiving into a kiddie-pool of elephant crap on Jackass (David Rogers Berry). All together, they're kind of scary, which might be why they're so good.

So as this week's print Voice will tell you, O'Death just re-released their full-length Head Home on Brooklyn-based indie-label Ernest Jennings. Tonight's the CD hoedown/freak-out at the Luna Lounge in Williamsburg. In case you resisted the link the first time, there's more on the O'Death record here.

DOWNLOAD
O'Death, "Down to Rest"
O'Death, "All the World"
O'Death's Daytrotter session here