Brian Slattery Photos
New Cardiff Giants.
A Thursday night of churning rhythms, big guitars, barked lyrics, and dancing feet at Cafe Nine made the case that New Haven’s rock ‘n’ roll scene is alive and well, and possibly growing, as four Elm City bands kept people moving for hours.
As the Ninth Square club filled, Always Morning — Juliana Rivera on vocals, Brian Hewitt on guitar and vocals, and Charlie Hewitt on drums — started without warning, with the Hewitt brothers laying down thick rhythm on guitar and drums while Rivera unleashed a gritty, powerful voice that cut through it all.
“This is our first original set,” Rivera said, explaining that Thursday’s gig represented the first time they’d performed an entire show of all original music. It was also “our first time at Cafe Nine,” she said, so “we’re psyched.”
Judging from the crowd’s response, this first original set wouldn’t be Always Morning’s last. Energetic, fun, and full of big emotions, Always Morning crafted upbeat songs about heartache in the finest popular music tradition. Even the sad songs weren’t downers, in part because the band members kept beaming at one another as they played, making clear the happiness they felt playing music together. By the fourth song, a number that partook of rock and disco, people were up and dancing. Charlie broke a drumstick and replaced it.
“We’re going to get a little emo,” Rivera announced toward the end of their set. “You have been wonderful.”
“It’s been an emotional journey,” Brian jokingly agreed, “but we’re going to end on a bop. We’re going to go down and then back up again.” The set closed strong, with a slow song full of dirty grandeur and a powerful number that had the crowd — now quite full — ready for more music.
Hell Fairy — Elizabeta on vocals and guitar, Dexx on guitar, Kiki Van Damn on bass, and Joe 666 on drums — beckoned everyone closer to the stage so Elizabeta could jump down and dance among them. Elizabeta described themself as a queer Satanist, explaining that “by embracing darkness, you become whole.” The band married the seriousness of that message with a riotously good time, fueled by a set of simple and effective songs with riffs to spare and lyrics full of wry humor. Elizabeta wasn’t the only one to leave the stage; Van Damn at one point also leapt to the floor, possibly to trade chewing gum with an audience member.
“How many of you have been to Partners?” Elizabeta asked midway through the set. They were met with resounding cheers from the crowd. A draggy, bluesy number ensued about the long-running New Haven LGBTQ bar that got a couple to slow-dance to it. The next song was “about exploring a poly relationship, if you’re into that. If you’re not into that, you can just imagine it’s about falling in love with your best friend,” Elizabeta explained. Another song was “about me as an alien trying to seduce a cowboy.”
The sense of cheer proved infectious. “Thank you, we love you,” Elizabeta called to the crowd at the end of the set. “We love you, Hell Fairy!” someone yelled back.
The New Cardiff Giants — Monty Huck (a.k.a. New Haven artist Bill Saunders) on vocals and guitar, Smokin’ Joe Kimono on guitar, Muldoon on bass, Bonnie Leathers on keys, and Kiki Van Damn on drums — hit the stage in character, with an announcement from Huck that they came from the future. The Giants then ripped into a set of rock ‘n’ roll that partook equally of new wave and psychedelia to create a sound that exploded with energy and immediately got most of the crowd dancing. Muldoon and Van Damn were a pummeling rhythm section, and Kimono and Leathers expanded the sound. In the middle was Huck, his rasp of a voice, and his incantatory lyrics that were three parts sarcasm and social commentary, one part prophet.
The band invited another member to the stage — Sarahi Zacalteco — to perform what Huck said was a single except that “we’re having a hard time getting it played because there are some swear words in it.”
“And Spanish,” Muldoon said in mock dejection. Zacalteco’s additions only poured on more energy, keeping people moving through the set. But the seriousness that grounded the music was never far away. At one point Van Damn explained that one of the songs was written “years ago, before there was a bug going around.”
“There’s still a bug going around,” Huck reminded everyone.
The crowd thinned out a little by the time Formula Ex — Stevie on guitar and vocals, Larry on bass, and Ross on drums — hit the stage, leading Stevie to comment that there were “only the hardcore left.” That core, however, was ready to keep dancing, and Formula Ex provided, with a set of lean originals that pared back the songs to simple melodies, riffs, and rhythms. It was more than enough to carry the night along. In the vibe that persisted in the room, and the scrum of people hanging out on the sidewalk outside in the warm January night, it was easy to see what Huck mentioned halfway through the Cardiff Giants set.
“This city has a rock ‘n’ roll scene,” he said. “Let’s keep building it.”
“Make it here,” Muldoon added.