Though Oli Endless and the Possibilities’ mellow folk rock and Bows and Arrows’ pretty indie rock are done well, Murfreesboro bands Turtle Bangs and Gold Sounds are the ones who brought the heat at The End last Thursday.

Second to go on, Turtle Bangs, composed of Greg Stephen and Casey Carter, proved themselves as a capable duo. The hardest part about being a two-man band is whether the stripped-down nature of music produced only by two instruments can be enough; whether a set of drums and a guitar will achieve a sound that is whole and powerful, or fall short into the category of elementary.

It can take time to "get" Turtle Bangs’ music. At first it may just seem like noise, but perhaps the living rooms at the house shows – where the band so often plays – don’t do their music justice.

If given a careful listen, one can find an unexpected finesse to Turtle Bangs. The sound is somewhere between the punk and the polished, and while some listeners have compared them to the Pixies, the scratchiness of Stephen’s guitar is really more reminiscent of earlier White Stripes, and the creeping melodies of songs like "Wolf" could even be compared to Tom Waits (his weirder stuff).

Gold Sounds opened an entirely different book after Turtle Bangs, stirring the indie and alternative rock melting pot from the ’90s onward, bringing to mind bands like Pavement, Band of Horses and The Broken West. The bad news about Gold Sounds is that everything the band is doing has been done before. The good news about Gold Sounds is that they have chosen some of the best of it to replicate and morph into something of their own – plus they know how to write a memorable tune; there isn’t a forgettable melody – especially in "The Slumberist" – on the album they have yet to release.

As a fairly new band, Gold Sounds have created a name for themselves playing Murfreesboro house shows, often with Turtle Bangs. And if they can fill a small house, they can most likely start filling Nashville venues. – Jessica Pace

The best thing about going to a 3rd and Lindsley show is seeing the people who aren’t there to watch the scheduled artists, so you can imagine how the sorority girls and country music fans reacted when they sat through Kendall Morgan and Bitch (formerly known as Bitch & Animal) on Monday night.

Kendall Morgan started things off with an acoustic set of melody-driven indie pop. If anyone was fortunate enough to witness a cat fight between Leigh Nash, Eisley and Karen O., their combined voices would probably produce something similar to Kendall’s And anyone who would enjoy witnessing that fight is probably the kind of person who would enjoy a Lilith Fair concert, which is what Kendall’s music tends to remind us of. Her songs had Alanis Morissette’s melodies, Beth Orton’s chords, the smooth vibe of The Cranberries and a little bit of KT Tunstall’s folksyness. Some choice songs included "Gone Away," "Numb" and "Theif," whose lyrics made us take a hard look at ourselves and the state of our world.

It wasn’t too tough to take a look at what happened next, though, because we got to feast our eyes on Bitch and her New York entourage. Girl duo, The State Of, gave us some straight up pretty indie pop/rock with super tight harmonies. Next, we watched a short video by Billie and the Violent Kids, providing us with a quick glimpse into Billie’s mind and some erratic footage of skateboarding, football and other … things … all set to some electro-trancey tunes produced by Bitch, (silliness provided by Billie).

Things came to a close when Bitch sashayed on stage wearing her prom dress – a black cloak with a stout golden collar – wielding an electric violin. Backed by The State Of, she performed a variety of songs from her new album Blasted, and other old favs, some of which were in her speak-singing manner – (think pervy Ani Difranco at her snarkiest in the interest of efficiency) – but all of which were dedicated to Jesus Christ. God bless Bitch for singing songs like "My Clit Is A Bitch," "Kitchen," "Indian Blood" and this one chant about crystal meth. Despite the tomfoolery that encompassed her set, it was hard to shrug off the sneaking suspicion that Bitch is waaaay smarter than the rest of us, and for that, I bestow a personal blessing upon her.

Monday night was certainly a gay old time, (no pun intended), so dare to dream, and go check out all of these artists. True gems. – Erin Manning

The Grayces’ vinyl release show on Saturday night at The End proved to be one of the stranger nights we’ve witnessed. First, there was an inspiring performance by The Mattoid, who treated us to some sensible, nonsensical rock, one straight-faced, faux-Communist monologue, and several melodramatic ramblings by the lead singer/Pavarotti-lookalike, Villa Kiviniemi (of Finland). After he managed to get everyone in the room to listen to his dream about wishing that there were "a crack whore in heaven who can sell [him] pussy and crack," it was time to sing along to the infamous "Party Time."

Burlesque dancer, The Violet Vixxen sidled onstage for a short, sultry striptease, and then it was time for the moment that everyone had been waiting for.

The Grayces rocked everyone’s faces off, (not surprisingly), grinding their way through ten energetically raw wailers, and one persnickety encore. They played their usual crowd pleasers with additional flare; we were certain that "Yep’s" yodels were  shriller, "Opposite Day’s" screams were lengthened, and the extra smarminess of "Needer" left the crowd lusting after lead singer Murielle Rae, and needing to hear more.

Naturally we had to get a copy of their record, whose A and B sides consist of all three of those songs. Jackpot! There were also some tunes we hadn’t heard before, including the cheeky encore, whose hook consisted of lots of "la la la’s," which Miss Murielle smirked through the entire time.

The Grayces truly packed the pizzazz into their performance, and after seeing more of their brilliance through a longer set list, we look forward to listening to their record, and seeing what they will do in the future. It’s fairly obvious they are going to do something.

As the night came to a close, Hans Condor flew by us with such vigor, and kicked our asses so hard that we didn’t have time to think about when the last time was that we saw them play. Their lineup was different, although everyone still seemed to enjoy the Detroit garage rock, and Charles’ mass of hair. He and his guitar barreled off of the stage into welcoming arms during one particularly wild number – couldn’t understand the words enough to guess at a song title – with just the kick drum blasting away and the distortion from his guitar seemingly propelling him along as he whirled and twirled through a solo in the middle of the crowd. Catch them playing at Foobar March 20th.

Also make a point to see the Grayces at Springwater on April 17th and the Mattoid at Little Hamilton on March 19th. 

After seeing the sights and hearing the tasty treats at The End on Saturday night, everyone can say they went to bed with "just desserts." – Erin Manning

Tuesday night at the Rutledge served to transport audience members into a folk oblivion, as they listened to three memorable performances by young local artists Cruz Contreras, Angel Snow and Megan McCormick.

Cruz started the night off with a few rowdy numbers that drew from old-school country – (hot) – creating the perfect environment for Angel Snow to take the stage and smooth things out. Her velvety voice drew characteristics from the likes of folk music’s most soothing songbirds, i.e. Emmylou Harris, Patty Griffin and Shawn Colvin (Snow’s voice is more than appropriate for her name).

Her songs evocatively portrayed heartbreak in its many forms, using a surprisingly raw and organic sound – even for folk. One song in particular, "Let Me Go Tonight," sounded like Mary Timony’s relaxing "In The Grass," proving to be a nice transition into the many pleasantries of Megan McCormick.

McCormick seemed to have slightly changed her sound over the past several months. At times, she has played the expected songs of a female, folk singer-songwriter, but at other times she has played straight up folk-rock. Tuesday’s performance, however, featured pop- and jazz-infused folk numbers, reminding audience members more of Shelby Lynne than Grace Potter. Of course, with the way she shredded on her electric guitar (while somehow managing to effortlessly create an ambience that is rarely created by a lead singer during a performance), there were still hints of Bonnie Raitt and the old Megan McCormick we all know. And, of course, she played some of her popular ballads that never fail to make people shut the hell up and listen – or cry – including "Wasted" and the wistful "Driveway."

Both Megan and Angel Snow willb e on tour for the next several months, but until you have a chance to catch them perform live, check out their Myspaces, and also be sure to vote for The Deli’s Artist of the Month Poll. (Both McCormick and Snow are in the running right now). – Erin Manning

Paper Not Plastic – common grocery store phrase and quirky moniker for a Murfreesboro band which has just released its debut album, Road to Lethologica. Recently the five members spent a few sessions recording in MTSU Studios to produce a six-song compilation that combines the sweet and innocent with the slightly bizarre.

Everyone remembers Modest Mouse’s 1997 sophomore album The Lonesome Crowded West, right? Lethologica opens with a bang with "Human Nature," a sunny melody whose danceable percussive rhythm and simple, playful guitar parts bear a strong resemblance to Crowded West as well as the Killers’ earlier endeavors. The second track, "Unfixable," contrasts with an angry riff coupled with popping bass, but upbeat melodies persist throuhgout, even when the pace slows, as demonstrated in the lazy jam "Construction Failure." It meanders for five minutes with a steady drum snap amidst front man Jessey Clark’s boyish vocals proclaiming, "I’m a wrecking ball/can’t keep me together/don’t push me too hard/or you’ll break the concrete keeping us together." In spite of a youthful sound, Lethologica demonstrates a lyrical maturity; even if the similies and metaphors sometimes border on smug, the band is refreshingly capable of exploring subjects other than relationships.

In "The Café Song," cello  and acoustic guitar are introduced into the mix in a proclamation-of-love-outside-the-window sort of ode, ending the album on a softer note that still manages not to divert drastically from the other five tracks. Paper Not Plastic knows how to line up its tracks – the band has done so with precision, in a manner that flows, and the production is polished. As opposed to the first-come-gigs, then-come-albums approach, the band has been relatively scarce in area venues, only recently beginning to book more gigs around Murfreesboro. But judging from the ever-present dancing crowd up front, it can be said that Paper Not Plastic puts on a solid performance at Murfreesboro house shows. There is nothing threatening or dangerous about the sound; it’s all familiar. But Paper Not Plastic’s appeal is not meant to b e an avant-garde or exotic one. Rather, the charisma comes from a whimsical and optimistic energy in the band’s live shows that transcends the recording. – Jessica Pace

Down the Rabbit Hole:

Last Saturday night (the 27th) I had a little rendezvous with a March hare. In honor of Tim Burton’s upcoming film, "Alice In Wonderland: The Party" invited all to escape through an alternative dimension where music and mirrors made it a tea party to remember 2010 by. 

Definitely not late for this very important date, I still found myself pushing my way into a mid-sized room where Nashville band Vermicious K’nids tipped their hats to the magical night. Their vibe was Costello-esque, setting the tone especially with a cover of Elvis’s "Pump It Up." An enthusiastic listener told me, a bit later, that the band had made a delicious soup of "creative synth parts, cool harmonies, awesome drumming and tight rhythms." But most importantly, their set was just "really fucking awesome."

DJ Ocuban followed the K’nids with ease. I’ve seen a lot of DJs in Nashville, but never have I sensed that a DJ loved his dancers more than Ocuban. He mixed instrumental beats resurrected circa 1992. He gently roped everyone in, melting together a unified body of movers and casually muttering, "Have one on me," to the whole room. Friends and strangers crowded around him like New York tourists in a street drum circle, disappointed to hear his pad controller go to bed for the night.

Between sets, party people were not left without entertainment. What’s a party without pics? Local photographers of Q Avenue Photography (couple Brad Butcher and Jennifer Eden) snapped shots (such as the above picture) the entire night, while two Mad Hatters served mixed chai and peppermint drinks. 

Local DJ Fan Fiction brought the night to its prime. Know him? He has probably played in your basement. Maybe you’ve seen him alongside other DJs at Nashville’s mainstay dance parties. He’s popular for mixing pretty tracks the hipsters love and making them irresistibly danceable. My favorite from the night was Beach Boys meets Marky Mark in "Good Vibrations." Fan Fiction always serves it up right, never playing the same set twice. He flows with the vibe of the crowd; and, as you know, no two crowds vibe quite the same way. This party was definitely a variety show, allowing FF to mix just about any Animal Collective or 80s track he wanted. Turning an empty living room into a zesty wonderland of pop, Fan Fiction, as usual, left everybody spinning.

Well, there ain’t no party like a Nashville party, and this house-made Wonderland was proof enough. House party throwers around the city assure us that they’re going nowhere fast.

Thanks to Kaitlyn Grom, Kit Canlas, Mikayla Lewis and Laura Beam for making this a night not to forget. – Sarah Marie

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Sunday night at The 5 Spot should have been titled "Night of the Female-Fronted 3-Piece Bands," rather than the Six Gun Lullaby Farewell Show, accompanied by Thelma & The Sleaze and New York band Tigerpiss. The evening was special for a variety of reasons, including, but not limited to, the following:

Grunge girls Thelma & The Sleaze – (formerly known as The Trampskirts) – opened up the evening with a skuzzy set of rock tunes, entertaining the crowd with lead singer/guitarist/Taco Party owner Lauren Gilbert’s bikini-clad body and bluesy Janis Joplin groans. (They were, might we add, officially voted as Nashville Deli’s Artist of the Month once the clock struck twelve).

New Paltz, NY band Tigerpiss graced us with their clever crassness on their fourth visit to Nashville. In between whiskey shots chased with gin and tonics, lead singer/bassist Lara Hope took everyone on a trip to "Vaginatown," animatedly hollering weird punk/rock songs about partying, good sex, bad sex and … well, vaginas! (Audience favorite). The Tigerpiss sound was like old No Doubt meets Velvet Revolver (except actually good). They also had an odd sense of humor. They’re currently on tour promoting their most recent EP "Shake It, Don’t Fake It."

Six Gun Lullaby closed the night out with their most enjoyable performance as of yet. The wistful chords and melodies blared by lead singer/guitarist Claire Adams and guitarist/vocalist Martin Schneider seeped into one another, creating a wall of sound that made you want to melt your face off, and maybe cry a little at the same time. The most obvious comparison to Six Gun would be Sleater Kinney, but their newer songs – some of which were almost heart wrenching – were surprisingly reminiscent of the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s and Weezer, even. The genuine emotion that was devoted to the music by the trio members was evident in their playing and their stage dynamic. This might have been because it was their last show together as Six Gun Lullaby. Regardless, their stage performance was intensely inspiring. Claire’s vocals were passionately screeched, sometimes mumbled, other times uttered so convincingly that it made us wonder if she was going to have a breakdown right there on stage. The girl is a poet, and her insightful lyrics showed it. (And everybody knowed it). The close relationship between Martin, Tiffany and Claire was enviable, and made witnessing their final performance truly brilliant. While the band stated that there is a possibility of working together again in the future, they will be sorely missed until then, and we will anticipate their reappearance. – Erin Manning

The Seventh Anniversary Party at Rocketown was definitely a cultural eye opener, especially for a 20-something who doesn’t know much about teens, skateboarding or Nashville’s metal community. All of the kids were dressed way cooler than the kids most of us remember from our middle/high school days, and they also seemed unusually comfortable around violent dancing/moshing/diving, and listening to music they weren’t familiar with, or that wasn’t "cool" to be listening to.

As far as the music was concerned, Social Jetlag, Gnarwal and some other big name metal bands seemed to get the most hype for the evening shows, but the two standout performances were from Kiddo (above photo – formerly known as Out of Order) and Coloroado band Flashbulb Fires. Kiddo is a punk trio that put on an unexpectedly awesome show, considering, as you could probably deduce, all the boys are in middle school. Their setup was extremely tight, blending sounds from the likes of The Ramones, Alice Cooper and The Clash. It was obvious that they had been playing together for a few years. Kiddo was a double whammy. Frontman (boy?)/guitarist Greyson Anderson looked like a mix between the prepubescent Scotty Farkus from "A Christmas Story" and Sid Vicious, what with his coon-skin cap and erratic stage energy. The bassist, Jimmy Grogan, was the doppelganger of Wailin’ Canes’ member Kyle Whalum. This performance also served as the release show of their first EP "Roadkill Whiskey," and while they don’t have any upcoming performances, Kiddo is definitely a band to be on the lookout for in the next few years. Unless they all get fake IDs and start playing shows at The End. – Erin Manning

Everyone was singing, "LAWD ALMIGHTY!!!" at the Temptation Club in Murfreesboro on Saturday night, joining Nashville band The Grayces on their catchy-as-hell song "Yep." (For the record the song was such a hit that it continued to be requested even after it had already been played). Alongside The Grayces were Murfreesboro bands Oliver Fist and +Friends.

Oliver Fist offered a very intriguing performance of New Wave/Grunge, paired with singer Eric King’s indecent but clever lyrics, and his nervously uttered David Byrne/Mick Jagger growl. +Friends was quite the contrast from the other bands, consisting of several members from Murfreesboro group Hanzelle. The +Friends performance was worthy of being listened to by the most elite group of sound nerds, given that they devoted more time to adjusting the levels and sound system in the room than to actually playing. The group’s experimental "smart rock" featured complicated time signatures and a natural groove, admirably building up the anticipation for the long-awaited set by headliner The Grayces.

After seeing the Graces play it wasn’t hard to see why the garage-punk trio has been taking the local dives by storm, what with their fuzzy power chords and grinding rhythms. The band – comprised of lead singer/guitarist Murielle Rae, drummer Gaelen Mitchell and bassist Patrick Blackwell – churned their way through a whole set of garage punk rock tunes, characterized by the moans and wails of their moody singer. With the cranked distortion, lo-fi crunch and so much personality in Rae’s voice and delivery, The Grayces sounded sort of like The Kills, but with less pop; or The Stooges if they were stranded in Tennessee for most of their career. At one point they halted their raunchiness with a laid-back, trippy, spoken number (although this may have been an improvisational exercise) where Rae’s vocal wanderings trailed along behind the band’s vamping. It was difficult to tell if she was bored or merely feeling creative, but regardless, this chick had Grace Slick written all over her. 

If you haven’t been able to catch The Grayces yet, you should definitely go see them at their CD release show on March 13th at The End. See Flyer Above. – Erin Manning

"My name is Sarah Silva, and if you don’t know me now, you will by the end of this set," were the words that followed a sassy blurb about being done with an ex boyfriend, and also the words that introduced dramatic pop-diva Sarah Silva to her 12th & Porter audience last Thursday night. She was joined by pop/RnB singer Alvin Love and indie-folk group Kopecky Family Band, making for an odd but interesting lineup.

Silva’s music was almost as unconventional as said lineup, drawing characteristics from artists as varied as Queen, KT Tunstall and Cyndi Lauper. While the majority of her material consisted of lack-of-love songs outlining her failed romantic endeavors and the shortcomings of men, the subject didn’t get old. Her lyrics and delivery were presented with enough bite that the spunky bitch/angry girl shtick continued to work for her. It was only fitting that on the song "Screamer" Silva practically screamed the hook, "You give me something to scream about!" Despite all of the man-hating going on, all of the men in the front row bobbed their heads while Silva bounced around behind her keyboard as she played with skillful precision. The delectably catchy "I Don’t Believe You" summoned the spirit of Freddy Mercury with its unpredictable chord changes, Silva’s classically trained belt (not the one around her waist), and her ability to flawlessly hold her high notes for lengthy periods of time.

The idiosyncrasies in all of Sarah Silva’s songs prevented her from simply being tossed into the pop artist category. Not too many people can say they’ve witnessed the archetypal female, piano-playing singer/songwriter murmuring a sexy, Pussycat Dolls style, spoken interlude in their music – which is what Silva did with her song "Foolish." And while the songwriting style of very few artists is as eccentric as Kate Bush’s, that is exactly what Silva’s tune "Numb" channeled, with its retro feel, erratic high notes and beguiling melody. When the Tori Amos-meets-80s-power-ballad finale "Burn" was played a drunken boy in the front row roared, "I LOVE THIS SONG!" and it seemed to be the perfect end to the evening. (You can hear Burn for free on Silva’s myspace: see above link).

Sarah Silva’s impeccable voice, style, rantin and ravings are worth witnessing firsthand. Catch her playing an acoustic set on March 4th at the Listening Room, or try for the whole shebang (pun intended) by going to her CD release show at 12th & Porter on April 3rd. – Erin Manning

For anyone who hasn’t witnessed a Sam Stewart performance since he cut his hair, shaved off his beard and revamped his band, you missed quite the show on Wednesday night at Melrose. After a brief acoustic set by Simon Kerr, Sam was joined by his new band, Horsefinger, as they opened up the stage for the recent group, Colorfeels, and Nashville staples The Hollywood Ten and Evan P. Donohue. With the addition of Horsefinger to Stewart’s setup, old fans can tell he is already moving in a different but more intentional direction with his music. While Stewart remains on guitar, Horsefinger thickens the bluesy, folk-rock sound with Ben Ford (of the Hollywood Ten) on rhythm guitar, Clint Wilson (formerly of Darla Farmer, Max and the Wild Things and Frank the Fuck Out) on drums, and Graham Knight (the only member of Sammy’s original entourage) on bass. With an understanding of the incestuous tendency of Nashville musicians to frequently form new bands with friends who play in other bands that play together all the time, it’s surprising – and somewhat disappointing – that Stewart’s new ensemble didn’t come together sooner.

It was during songs such as "Better Off Dead" and "Windshield" where Stewart and Horsefinger definitely demonstrated the different musical influences that each of the band members contributes. There was a fairly noticeable presence of the Big-Band, deranged Darla Farmer style and the raw, intentional grooves that The Hollywood Ten always seem to slip into. "Better Off Dead" was a dark, circusy number that would have been appropriate to hear as Alice tumbled down the rabbit hole, rather than the musical accompaniment to the smokey air and smacking pool balls ever so prominent at Melrose Billiards. Few songs could enhance the character of that establishment; this one did. The next song, "Windshield", was particularly memorable because it was oddly reminiscent of Franz Ferdinand’s "Take Me Out." As it turned out, this was the audience favorite, evidenced by the girl who sprung up from her spot laying down on the pool table and then began dancing wildly. In her defense, the choppy guitar riffs and thumping kick drum, paired with Stewart’s occasional screams and broken wails, made the song pretty irresistible.

So if you weren’t there on Wednesday, check him out this February 25th at The End. With a name like HORSEFINGER, how could he disappoint? – Erin Manning

So Cheer Up Charlie Daniels‘ album has been out since November of ’09, which means we’re a little late in discovering it. My bad. But this album is great, and you need to listen to it. It’s as if they filled up a bag with 10 or 12 different genres of music and blindly picked them out, one by one, making a song for each selection. You can twist to "Back in Time", you can swing to "Bunsen Burner Baby Blues", or you can lounge beachside while listening to "Murray". Check out their multi-colored vinyl, titled Live in ’79, for the (somewhat) most recent music Nashville has to offer. Plus there’s a robot on the cover! – Fletcher Watson