Wednesday, April 22, 1998
Joe’s Myth has enthusiasm, but lacks originality
MUSIC: Despite high energy, band’s bland sound doesn’t leave any
lasting impression
By Vanessa VanderZanden
Daily Bruin Staff
The pony-tailed, casually dressed lead singer suavely takes the
stage. His drummer and bassist, likewise, move in on their spots,
ready to electrify the amplifiers. And all of the crowd …
leaves?
Playing the graveyard shift of club sets, the Baltimore-based
band, Joe’s Myth, managed to convince a few fans to stick around
for their closing act. Though the Roxy’s dancing patrons may not
have had any place better to go as Saturday became Sunday, perhaps
they genuinely appreciated the small group’s music. But probably
they were just drunk and couldn’t yet walk home.
Though Joe’s Myth tried to offer a soulful sound, drawing on
their love of Jimi Hendrix and the Police, they merely became lost
in a confusion of dull-sounding parts. Never managing to get off
the ground, they only provided sleepy listeners with sounds calling
them to bed. However, the three easygoing members appeared to be so
stoked on playing to a live crowd, regardless of its size and
regardless of the hour, that the event couldn’t be deemed a
failure.
Clad in a short-sleeved, navy blue jersey tucked loosely into
light jeans, the cherubic lead singer, Mikey de Lara, set the
mellow scene. Bassist John Vargas could have been playing a house
party, wearing khaki shorts, sneakers with no socks and a
burnt-orange, button-down shirt. Drummer Seth Murphy never once
stopped grinning, his long dreads pulled back back in a tidy clump
above his baby blue soccer shirt.
Content with the bopping audience of around 20 people, Joe’s
Myth released their unobtrusive alterna-rock grooves. Relying
heavily on oomph-less guitar solos and repetitive riffs, the
musicians seemed to care more about the pleasure they took in
playing than the audience’s end of the deal.
Not a single song grabbed the senses or shook the soul. Rather,
all of the pieces blended together into one monotonous, though
comforting, drone. Like an overwhelming "Ohm," the musical grooves
provided merely a background to meditate against in the wee hours
of a Saturday night.
Every tune’s lyrics focused on the topic of love or some girl,
as de Lara’s weak voice became just barely audible above the
amplified instruments. Falling somewhere between a sappy James Iha
and an oddly impassioned George Michael, de Lara let out verse
after verse of shakily sung music.
Fortunately, most of the pieces fell into long bouts of
instrumentation which saved audiences from de Lara’s vocal
attempts.
At one point amidst the unrecognizable sense of blah, Murphy lit
into a drum solo which required two separate sets of sticks. But
even that only momentarily shook things up before the wa-pedal
efforts of de Lara and Vargas re-entered the groove. With an
elevator tune-esque slap to his bass strings, Vargas managed to
introduce a slight bop, marginally improving the work.
Still, as fans continued to drizzle out of the club, Joe’s Myth
seemed juiced to be on stage. Their energy offered a calm,
accommodating vibe to their otherwise generic sound. And, though
their efforts at producing unique chords and unusual rhythms only
resulted in a scrambled, unattractive curse to melodies everywhere,
at least they tried to energize things.
"I hope to see you all – OK here’s a song," spit out de Lara as
the barkeep closed up shop and waitresses began stacking chairs.
Though obviously feeling rushed for time, the members neglected to
hurry through their pieces, remaining professional to the last.
Propelled by the lopsidedly spinning grooves, the small crowd
continued to dance. Soon the disco ball splattered swirling
speckles of white light on the black-walled club, signalling the
last song. In a way, the galactic, lounge act feel of the lighting
effects seemed to fit with the band’s sound, at once spacey and yet
a little mundane. De Lara flew into a screaming solo while the rest
of the band tried to shove in as many beats as possible into what
surged into a jerky, off-track piece.
Though none of the tunes could be called memorable, they weren’t
painful to stomach. The audience wouldn’t be humming anything come
Monday morning, let alone two minutes after leaving the Roxy, but
during the show no one seemed particularly dismayed. And no one
really expected anything even this good from an otherwise unknown
band working the wee hours.
Photos courtesy of Sebastian Records
(Left to right) Drummer Seth Murphy, lead singer Mikey de Lara
and bassist John Vargas comprise Joe’s Myth.
Joe’s Myth played an energetic, but forgettable, set Saturday at
the Roxy.