MAYYORS/SKELETONS show

Taking the helm at leather-daddy haven the Eagle Tavern on 12th & Harrison last night were two bands I have never had the pleasure of hearing before: Mayyors (Sac-town) & Skeletons (NYC), Stupidly, the drummer of Skeletons is my old friend yet I still have not seen them in action; I can safely say my world is a better place now having done so.

I never knew something like Mayyors existed. As if straight out of my dreams, everything was fast and throbbing with sweaty feedback, soaked in aggro riffs and runs that sound like they're being run through a paper shredder set to destroy. The bristling vocals took turns speaker-shredding with the grinding fuzz guitar on songs such as "Airplanes" and "White Jeep", and the bass-and-cymbal-heavy drum set makes the punkbeat impossible not to move to.

The more mobile members of the band didn't waste any time getting up in the audience's shit either. Guitarist Chris Woodhouse bopped and swaggered behind Cousin It-style locks when he wasn't lurching off stage to play against those in front as if challenging them to a duel. The singer, whose name is, quite simply, a mystery to me snarled and breathed the virtually indeciferable words like a cat in heat, careening around heedless of anyone in his way. I like bands who aren't afraid of a little friendly audience interaction--a mano-a-mano musical experience.




Afterwards I hung around their unmanned merch table awhile before the singer came to the rescue, rewarding my patience by telling me the copy of their recently re-pressed 7-inch "Megan's LOLZ" I scored was only one of a hundred. After some investigation, I came find out this 7-inch is a gem and will remain so. It's been on repeat for two straight days now, and I've been telling everyone within earshot about them. Notoriously elusive online, I'll probably only get my next fix when I see them again on Dec. 6th at El Rio. I've joined the Mayyors fiend club.

Skeletons claimed the stage shortly after, their songs blooming out of the wreckage the Mayyors laid down. Misleading me into thinking some minimalist, bare-bones musical approach was in store, but their songs were fully-realized, storming out in complex, proggy arrangements the band had an iron grip on.

Drummer Jon Leland's parts were technically astonishing, and with three guitars and an alternating electric bass, the set's sound was thick-knit, huge. At times it achieved a My Bloody Valentine-esque level of sonic attack where I could feel my guts churning and vibrating and my ears began to beg for earplugs; being able to really feel the music is the way I prefer it. Singer Matthew Mehlan's vocals blended perfectly into the barrage, his voice panning over a vast emotional landscape. It was hard not to get consumed by the tidal wave of sound, and from the looks of those around me, no one was immune.

Skeletons are touring the South before ending up in the Bronx at Fordham University Dec. 5th. Too bad I'll be on the other side of the country.