mission freak!

Gaah, I’m so sore. I was sitting in German class this morning, taking a quiz, and rubbing my thighs, thinking, “schisse, meine Beine sind wund!” I know that the last throbbing remnants of my hangover should be my main concern, what with another exam this afternoon, but I can’t shake this nagging stiffness in my legs. I mean, I only pulled a seven-hour marathon of music last night (a mere three hours longer than I’m usually at it), I shouldn’t be feeling it anywhere but in my poor pate, should I?Okay, so first there was…Monadnoc : Java HouseI sat quietly, sipping my coffee (as one typically does at the Java House) while U of I alumni Monadnoc (a/k/a Miguel Soria) performed the inaugural set of the Mission Creek Festival. Soria billed himself as an author, not so much the singer/songwriter he appeared to be and furthermore, claimed that Iowa City was yet another stop on his book tour. This Windy City troubadour had taken excerpts from his recently completed novel A Life in Misery: Dog Mason and written musical accompaniment for them, winding delicate strums and slides through dense narratives about his rural, Midwestern childhood. Despite the bleak hopelessness of most of his stories, Soria was jovial to a fault, after dropping a reference to a music video on his Myspace page he quipped, “How many authors have music videos?”Soria also made some of the more studious patrons turn their heads or drop their books when, for his most emotional number, he called out to a teenage companion who had suffered from alcohol poisoning to “wake up,” gradually getting louder with each repetition. Soria closed on a rare forte for the normally subdued acts on the Java House stage.Then I made my way south for…Vanderveer : The MillAt the Mill, I split a pitcher or two with my mates, the first few contributions to my hangover. We slid into a booth nestled in the darkest (therefore least attended by wait staff) section of the venue as Washington D.C. singer/songwriter Vandaveer (moniker for Mark Charles) was finishing his first or second tune. Decked out in black tie and jacket with jeans, the well-kept Charles picked through Eastern European (think Gypsy-ish) influenced guitar lines and delivered highly romantic (think Shelly and Wordsworth, not Soap Operas) lyrics in his flinty drawl.As the opener at the Mill, Vandaveer kicked off what would become a highly communal spirit for the rest of the show. The lone D.C. folkster was joined, after the first few tunes, by a female vocalist he dubbed Sister Rose (who remained there for the rest of the set). Rose wielded a husky alto, that complimented Charles’ rasp perfectly, and done up in black with a shock of messy redish, pinkish hair, appeared the visual opposite to her partner on stage. Yet the two had the easy chemistry that comes with years of shared experiences on and off the stage. It was this charisma, and the talented songwriting, that led Mission Creek Midwest Founder Andre Perry to declare them the “first festival sleeper.”If you slept (I had to, tell me you wouldn’t have done the same) on last night’s set, don’t worry though, it appears that Vandaveer was quite taken with his first visit to Iowa City, “you have friendly, smiling bartenders,” he said of the Mill service after lauding the IC with other compliments.Towards the end of the set, the duo became a trio, as percussionist and harmonica player Robbie Catholic mounted the stage. It was sort of like Stop Making Sense, except it wasn’t very post-punk and David Byrne was (as near as I can tell) nowhere to be seen.As the set drew to a close, Vandaveer commented about the progressive (as in growth, not like prog-rock) band and alluded to what was to come when These United States came on stage, “the family grows and gets peddle-steelier,” he smiled.We got our second pitcher, and…These United States : The MillRobby Catholic stayed at the kit as Jesse and Tom joined and These United States ripped into their set. Jesse Elliot and Co were a highlight at last year’s festival, and this year the gangly trio was bolstered by a recently released debut record, A Picture of the Three of us at the Gate to the Garden of Eden. After two songs, the trio became a quartet as Vandaveer triumphantly re-took the stage (this time with a shiny, new bass in hand). And it wasn’t long after that, that Skye Carrasco, violinist for Iowa City’s own Skursula joined in on the hijinks.Despite the seemingly endless number of guest musicians, and the ever disappearing stage space, the songs never seemed over-burdened. The ballads took on a lush expansiveness, with pedal-steel or violin filling nooks and crannies, and the up-tempo numbers simply found more propulsion and direction with sharp stabs from Skye and relentless pulse from Vandaveer’s bass.And the show wouldn’t be complete with at least one more late addition, Sister Rose returned for the final two numbers. It was during this second-to-last song that Tom’s amp cut out, leaving the arrangement sounding a little lean. At the end of the song, knobs were twiddled and amplifiers eventually kicked and Tom ran to the back to snag his acoustic guitar, as Jesse advised that everyone be very quite so that they could here what Tom was doing, adding, “electricity has failed us tonight.”Despite technical difficulties the group soldiered through for a rousing sing-a-long for the closing number, many in the audience opted for snapping fingers rather than clapping hands.After being thoroughly charmed (yet again) by These United States, I took the final swig off my beer, and I made a bee-line for the exit. I was determined not to let Pieta Brown cast a spell over me, as she has many times in the past, because I had commitments elsewhere.I headed north to the Yacht Club and rumbled down the stairs…MC/VL : The Yacht ClubI must confess my low expectations for the lone Hip-Hop act on the entire festival schedule. In fact I had tried to miss the set, and damnit, I wish I’d caught the whole thing. The Twin City Hip-Hop-Heads almost literally took over the Yacht Club. The two MC’s would lumber and strafe out on the floor, leaving the sheepish audience hovering around the brick pillars. Originally slouching skeptically at the bar with a bottle of PBR (ah, skepticism and PBR, does a hipster good), until the opening march of “Turn My Camera On” began pumping out of the P.A. Eye brows thoroughly raised, I hesitantly approached the front lines.The two MC’s went to work, Beastie Boy-style, over a loop from Spoon’s funkiest song. The comparison to the Beasties isn’t simply because both MC’s and the DJ were white, but because chopped cadences and chants in unision were the dominant weapons in their arsenal last night. There is a good chance that, aside from the Metal Show on Friday, no other act will bring as much sweat and energy as MC/LV did last night.”What, you’re out of PBR?” (The Picador would never run out.) So with a bottle of Bud in my hand…Datagun : The Yacht ClubYeah, there’s actually something worse than sleeping with the producer to get on the bill…The trio comprised of Mission Creek big-wigs including: Co-Founder Andre Perry, Co-Founder Tanner Illingworth, and Craig Eley who runs the blog and probably has an official title that I just don’t know.Despite how laughable it sounded in the beginning, leave it to Mr. Perry to be spot on with his musical assessments, “Let’s start the dark.” Unlike the earlier, more acoustic, incarnations of Mission Creek Producer’s bands, Datagun, is very, well, not acoustic. Relying heavily on drum machines and synthesizers, oh yeah, and a toy keyboard, Datagun sounded a little more like The Faint or New Order: y’know, lots of thumping and sloganeering, little that reassembled singing. However, like the other two MCP bands, there was more to recommend than to detract, a lot more.So when this whole Mission Creek thing blows over, and we all sleep for a week, Datagun will be available to play your next dance party (’d'you hear that Flyentology?).Quickly consuming two beers while conversing with John from MC/LV about Southern Lord Records (yeah, dude loves him some doom metal), I climbed out of the Yacht Club to catch…So Many Dynamos : The PicadorOh, so drunk — feeling dancyUhm, and there’s explanation for the stiffness in my thighs. This foursome from a suburb of St. Louis pumped out so much post-punk groove that even my stiff-hipped brother tried to dance. This was fist-pumping, ass-shaking, good-time music.As previously reported, dudes just wrapped-up a new record produced by Death Cab for Cutie’s Chris Walla, and the new tunes were (as promised) dense. Rich in synthesizer layers and spastic guitar riffs, So Many Dynamos crafted some of the most elaborate booty-shakin’ music I’ve encountered in quite some time.Triumphant and sweaty, I high-fived and shook hands with the band and stumbled down the Picador steps. Thank God for sober girlfriends, cause that six blocks back to my abode would have been hellish.