The Milk Carton Kids’ most recent release is titled “Prologue,” and it is aptly named given that with this recently formed collaboration of Joey Ryan and Kenneth Pattengale, the main event that fans should be waiting for is their vibrant and unexpectedly stirring live show. With only five months of official band-ship under their belts and a solid three-month headlining tour booked, the Milk Carton Kids brought their minimalist yet emotionally expansive guitars and voices to Colorado in a set at the Soiled Dove Underground on August 26^th.

The Milk Carton Kids put on a show that is distinctly their own, and it’s more than the sum of it’s parts: two stools, two guitars, two guys, four mics, and a pretty short set list. The Soiled Dove Underground was the ideal venue for these two, with the small stage surrounded by tables of rapt listeners.  After the first song, a friend – an indie music aficionado who had not heard of the Milk Carton Kids before and is not easily swept away – turned and simply said, “Wow.”

There aren’t many bands that can connect immediately with an audience, but Kenneth and Joey did.  While on their albums their two voices often blend seamlessly, on stage they brought two clearly different personalities and skill sets together, creating those chords and harmonies that upon just listening, deceives us into thinking they might just be one guy.

It was impossible to ignore Kenneth’s guitar playing. He seemed to play with energy stemming from his feet, knees, and shoulders in equal measure, a marionette-like shimmy that was both endearing and fascinating because it was so unabashedly earnest.  If ever playing a guitar was a physical and emotional workout, this was it.  At one point a string snapped (not surprising given Kenneth’s tenacity), and he pulled it off the guitar without melodrama and continued on.

Joey, meanwhile, led the vocals in a clear, confessional style, accented by Kenneth’s harmonies and guitar. Joey’s voice has a perfectly placed waver, adding an emotive layer to the lyrics, which resonated with pleasant authenticity. Early in the show, Joey introduced a song, “Charlie,” that Kenneth wrote for his future (yet non-existent) daughter. What could have been a saccharine ode was instead an honestly wistful dedication, one that planted a seed in skeptical minds that it might just be okay to believe in an optimistic future. Not a bad feeling to have these days.

There is also something refreshing about a band that takes itself seriously without taking itself too seriously.  A few songs in, Joey said to the audience (in his slightly playful, self-deprecating style), “So, now we’re going to play eight more sad songs.” And they did, although a sense of buoyancy still ran through the evening, preventing plaintive lyrics and melodies from becoming somber.  Favorites in the room were definitely “Michigan” and “Permanent,” although upon asking for requests from the audience, Joey got a smattering of passionate responses, showing that in just two albums together (and both in less than one year), this duo has created many individual tracks that resonate.

It's almost a shame to have to describe the Milk Carton Kids as an acoustic guitar-playing folk duo, which conjures up images of hippies with swaying curtains of blonde hair, gazing through a sepia haze at two guys strumming in the Haight. Although, to be fair, Joey Ryan would fit right into that scene with his John Lennon looks. And it is easy to make comparisons to those who laid down the roots of this particular style of music – Joey and Kenneth’s harmonies do have the soft, rounded vowels of Simon & Garfunkel, but the difference is, they don’t ride on the harmonies till the end – there are edges and immediacy in their music and words. And if you listen closely, there’s a slight residue of Dylan-esque, country-bluegrass grit seeping through.

Like the foggy urban skyscrapers on the cover of “Prologue,” the Milk Carton Kids’ live performance beckons the audience to squint, lean forward, look closer. The show at the Soiled Dove Underground certainly had the room at attention. If past is prologue, then we are in for a treat.

Liam Finn released his second album, FOMO on June 21^st, a full three years after his breakout solo album, I’ll Be Lightning. One thing is for sure – though the album title is less obviously evocative, Liam Finn’s live show, and the new music, continues to electrify. On a recent swing through Denver in the midst of an international tour (including his native New Zealand), Liam played the Larimer Lounge, bringing his folk rock to the stage with his trademark joie de vivre and talent to spare.

The show started off with the layered folk choruses of “I’ll Be Lightening,” the title track of Liam’s 2008 album that put him on the map with audiences and critics alike. The song is pure Liam Finn: choruses building to a literal crescendo of energy, instruments, and voices. Given the slightly light crowd at the start of the night, the Larimer’s layout was an asset on this Tuesday evening. With a visually separated area for the bar and the stage, the room didn’t feel too big or too sparse, and there was a palpable energy in the room once Liam and the band took the stage. It’s also impossible not to mention Marques Tolliver, whose clear, emotive voice and R&B infused violin opened the show.  Lucky for us, he joined Liam and the band for the last few songs.

Liam’s songs (and his live show) ride the line of experimentalism just long enough to get the audience feeling amped that we get to ride the wave, but never lost wondering which current is going to sweep us along next: a much more unique balance than it may seem. The music is anchored despite taking chances, and this is a brave quality to continue with on a sophomore album. The night was a mix between Liam’s two solo albums. The tracks from FOMO feel tighter and a little less brash than those from I’ll Be Lightning, although it may just be hindsight that makes the first album sound like a horse out of the gates, in the best possible way. This slight departure was immediately evident in “Cold Feet,” with its escalating chorus softened by synth keyboards, adding a slightly lush electronic layer to the song, a dream-pop softness that hints at Brian Wilson.  Songs from both albums have moments that bring to mind the Beatles, simple melodies backed up with looped vocals and instruments that add a little funk to the experience.

The average hipster probably may not, in theory, love electric guitar solos and slamming drums, if only due to a hesitation to listen to anything remotely reminiscent of 80’s hair rock. At a Liam Finn show, these preconceptions will be mightily challenged.  The pulsating, frenetic energy of watching him literally jump behind the drum kit, to the theramin, to any one of a lineup of guitars, is infectious. There’s a boyish sense of revelry in Liam’s performance and an unbridled physical enthusiasm as he rocks each instrument. You can imagine a bright eyed seven-year-old Liam saying, “Mum, I want to play the drums AND the guitar!” and then, with a delightful sense of surprise, discovering he is stellar at both.  This is why you should go see Liam Finn: because in a seemingly effortless multi-talented fashion, he will rock your socks off.

The Larimer is one of those venues that will always pop up in conversation in the following context: “Oh, I saw [insert band name who has completely blown up, i.e. Arcade Fire] at the LL a couple of years ago. It was awesome.” Notably, Liam Finn has come off of tours with Eddie Vedder and The Black Keys, but still gets to play the smaller club circuit. This is an absolute bonus, and there is no doubt that Liam’s fan base will continue to grow. Being able to bask for an hour or two in the pure enthusiastic glow of a Liam Finn show is a privilege, especially at a smaller venue like the Larimer – and it guarantees that you will tell the story later.

If you haven’t heard of Reptar yet, you will. This four-piece band brings together an extremely dance-able, experimental blend of electro-pop that is infectious and unexpected. They’ve hit the ground running (literally) with recent tours with Foster the People and Cults, but this go-round had Reptar opening for Phantogram in a sold-out show at the Marquis Theater in Denver on October 28^th.  And given how packed the room was before they took the stage, I’d venture to say that Reptar was as big of a draw as Phantogram on this pre-Halloween evening.

Reptar’s debut EP, titled Oblangle Fizz Y’All,  was released on August 2^nd, 2011, and has five tracks. Needless to say, they played them all.  The Marquis pulsated with unified energy for the band’s 45 minute set, with the wood floors literally moving a half-beat behind the ruckus on stage. The crowd knew the songs, and it was a delight to see a sweaty, bouncing mass of fans singing along word for word – to a band that is still very much on the way up.

Reptar is composed of lead singer and guitarist Graham Ulicny, drummer Andrew McFarland, bassist Ryan Engleberger and keyboardist William Kennedy. The lead performer in Reptar is, without a doubt, Kennedy on the keyboards, whose bandana just barely contained a wild mass of curly hair flying all over.  It’s hard to take your eyes off of him. But this is a talented group of musicians across the board.

In “Blastoff”, lead singer Graham Ulicny is absolutely channeling David Byrne, and – dare I say it – a dash of Yello. (Yes, the Swiss band who created Ferrari lust in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off with “Oh, Yeah.”) “Stuck in my Id” has the spoken/shouted/sung feel of The Talking Heads along with the distinct, almost choppy electronic beats of your favorite 80’s tune. Ulicny’s voice alternates between Ezra Koenig-inspired clarity, especially in “Rainbounce”, and a dash of the Kooks (is that an English accent?!)

You can see and hear what intrigued Ben Allen (producer of Animal Collective’s most recent album Merriweather Post Pavilion, among other big names) when he signed the band on the spot after he apparently wandered into an Atlanta club a couple of years ago. MPP, although polarizing to longtime Animal Collective fans, brought AC’s experimental elements into a cohesive and more accessible album.  And perhaps Allen was attracted to Reptar because it represented an opportunity to do the same thing.  The success of Oblangle Fizz Y’All as a unified piece of work is up for debate, simply because there is so much going on. But then again, this is an EP. And the upside of the barely contained chaos is a bouncy, energetic, unpredictable live show. Reptar obviously has a blast on stage, and their cacophony of optimism-infused, electronic Afro-beats is just plain fun. You’ll dance to this – you may not know how – but limbs and toes will be bopping. During “Phonetics” the entire room was vibrating, hands clapping in the air, feeding off of the band’s improvisational style.

These guys are going to grow their fan base with their live shows for sure.  In fact, this show reminded me of seeing a little band called Local Natives 18 months ago at the Larimer Lounge. And what happened since then? LN played to tens of thousands at Lollapalooza and opened for Arcade Fire on their spring 2011 tour. Judging by the bouncy enthusiasm of the crowd at the Marquis and the talent of these four musicians, I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that Reptar is headed for a similar trajectory. Did I also mention that these guys are all in college, too? Yeah.

In the end, Reptar’s music is a fitting reflection of the title of their EP, Oblangle Fizz Y’All.  You’re not quite sure what the combination is but it sounds funky and bubbly and southern, and those things certainly can’t be bad, right? I’m pretty sure I’d order that cocktail.

The Hi-Dive is anything but expansive. But when Other Lives played on December 14^th, on the last night of their eight month tour, the progressive folk band brought cinematic space and light to the stage with a shimmering performance.  The crowd at the sold out show was clearly enamored with these five, who between them played enough instruments for a small orchestra, and sounded like one, too.

The band members (Jesse Tabish, Josh Onstott, Jenny Hsu, Jonathon Mooney, and Colby Owens) are able to create this sweeping sound because they’re all multi-instrumentalists, with everything from a xylophone to a clarinet to a cello to a trumpet making appearances on stage. Most interestingly, Jenny Hsu plays her own homemade instrument, a set of antlers strung with little bells.  Lead singer Tabish is a slight figure, and it’s just the glimpses of his face through swaying hair that convince us that yes, this ethereal voice is actually coming from him.  Which is an interesting thing about this band – you don’t really notice the lyrics – as Jesse has noted before, the voices are really another instrument playing a part in this cascade of sound.

Which made it all the more surprising that so many in the crowd sang along with several of the tunes – most of which were from the band’s most recent album, Tamer Animals. Standouts were “Old Statues”, which carries very distinct echoes of Pink Floyd, and “For 12”, with a simple, melancholy melody carried by swelling strings and keys – so subtle and fluid that at the end there was a distinct pause in the room as the crowd held their breath waiting for, perhaps, one final note.

Other Lives hails from Stillwater, Oklahoma, and in “Dust Bowl III”, even if you didn’t know the song title, you are transported to a glistening, desolate version of the West – when the West was still Oklahoma. Other Lives’ music carries a consequential feeling, and the drums in the song conjure up a sense of movement, of migration across wide-open plains and golden-hued horizons. That said, the packed Hi-Dive audience didn’t move much; it was apparent that this was not a casual affair for most, and that leaving your spot for a drink or diversion was really not an option once the band took the stage. The crowd was certainly at attention throughout the night, but “Dust Bowl III” elicited the most fervent response – that particular version of indie-style enthusiasm that involves politely appreciative hollers during the opening chords followed by vigorous toe-tapping and head bobs.

Comparisons to Fleet Foxes are inevitable given that Other Lives is classified as a version of folk rock – and although they share a genre, the two are distinctly different live. Fleet Foxes has a slight, yet earnest extroversion on stage. In contrast, watching Other Lives at the Hi-Dive, you get the distinct sense that – though the band is, in fact, performing – this is an internal experience for the band members, and we’re simply witnesses.

Since this show was the last date of this tour, the sold-out evening had that particularly sweet mix of nostalgia and levity that comes with finishing a grueling and exhilarating experience. In fact, in the last six months alone, Other Lives played the Hi-Dive twice, opening for S. Carey (Bon Iver) on May 16^th and playing with the Rosebuds on July 16^th.  And there may be rest for the weary, but it’s not much – the band will be back on the road again in February, including a stint opening for Radiohead for 12 spring tour dates, including the 1^st Bank Center in Broomfield on March 13^th.

It’s not often that I venture to larger venues. But to be honest, with so many instruments packed onto the Hi-Dive’s tiny stage and such an expansive sound, I think it would be perfection to see Other Lives play in a more generously sized room – give the music a chance to move, breathe, curve around the soft and hidden corners of a space. So if you’re lucky enough to be holding a ticket to Radiohead in March, plan to get there early to see this little Oklahoma band that sounds anything but little.

Chris Porterfield is the guy you bring home to Mom. Earnest, heartfelt, and yes, a little tortured – but not irreparably so.  He’s also the front man and lead singer of the band Field Report, who played the Hi-Dive to a mellow but appreciative crowd on November 11th. It was the coldest day in my memory of Denver, so credit is due to the intrepid fans who ventured out. And in fact, Field Report’s shimmering melancholy was a lovely complement to the chilly Colorado evening, with Porterfield our unassuming guide.

Field Report is two albums into their most recent iteration as a band, after Porterfield’s move from DeYarmond Edison, to Conor Plymouth, to Field Report. Their self-titled debut album was released in 2012, to critical success. It’s an album of meandering folk that sounds true to its origin of the snowy, wide open spaces of Wisconsin: acoustic guitars and Porterfield’s slight twang weave narratives of loneliness, mostly.

Field Report’s second album, Marigolden, just out on October 7^th, is ostensibly why they’re on tour. Marigolden builds on the spacious yet spare folk of their debut, but with just a little more lush, gray area – the addition of synth and percussion create delicate layers beneath Porterfield’s pointed and often desolate songwriting. But Marigolden is definitively more optimistic than Field Report’s prior album, and it is a welcome shift.

And this is where Field Report shines. Porterfield’s lyrics turn what may initially sound like singer-songwriter-y indie folk of the replicable variety into something more: a confession of sorts, with visible cracks in the armor that you can feel because Porterfield writes them so achingly well. So this show was an affirmation of what I knew it would be going into it – raw but observant, gentle yet slyly heartbreaking.

That said, the night started on an upbeat note. Upon taking the stage, Porterfield looked out at the pleasantly full Hi-Dive, and said, “You’re here! This is so unexpected!” with a grin that was self-effacing instead of sarcastic. How refreshing. The room felt instantly warmer.

Fittingly, almost all of the songs came straight off of Marigolden.  “Ambrosia” and “Michelle” were standouts. In “Ambrosia”, Porterfield tells the story of his journey to sobriety, and when he sings, “And despite our sins, we would not sink, we were buoyed by our brackish grace,” you’re not certain how well he’s come through until you read an interview with him later.

The night was intimate, with a thoroughly contemplative feel. Porterfield seems to channel Neil Young and early David Gray in equal parts, and his plaintive lyrics tell the story of a struggle, this is certain. Although the highlight of the night – for most of us, I’d gather – was when Porterfield joined his bandmates, Shane Leonard (drums, fiddle, banjo, vocals) and Thomas Winsek (guitar, vocals) in the center of the stage for a bluegrass-y jam session, a joyful interlude that had everyone, band included, smiling broadly and tapping their feet.

In “Decision Day”, Porterfield sings, “Now the morning was gilded around the edges,” and that is what a Field Report show feels like. It’s a slow burn. You have to wait for it, and listen closely. Much of the new album sounds like a journey back from something, or someone. And you have to want to hear it. But in yearning, there is always hope, and that is what Marigolden seems to be about.  And Porterfield’s gilded edges were perfect on a freezing Colorado night.

Taarka is a little (although sometimes bigger) indie folk / gypsy-jazz / bluegrass band from Lyons, Colorado. And if you lived here through the tragic floods of 2013, you know that the town of Lyons was ravaged by the unrelenting waters. It has been a long road to rebuild, and David Tiller and Enion Pelta-Tiller, the leads in this 5-piece string band, lost their home in the devastation. So, fittingly, Taarka’s most recent album, released on March 24^th, is titled Making Tracks Home. The album was written in the aftermath of the floods, and much of its introspective melancholy is fueled by loss. On Saturday, March 28^th, Taarka played the Walnut Room as part of a few shows billed as CD Release Parties. Though the mood in the room was decidedly mellow, these talented instrumentalists write and perform music that is infused with optimism.

We arrived early enough to catch the end of the Caravan of Thieves set, and it was clear that this infectiously enthusiastic motley crew of percussionists, banjo players and violinists have talent to spare. The high point of their set was unquestionably their precise and joyous version of Bohemian Rhapsody. With the whole room singing along, Caravan of Thieves won all of us over.

Taarka took the stage with a decidedly more serious mood. Playing songs from the new release, which is the band’s sixth album, Taarka’s band members were the definition of self-deprecating. Tiller and Pelta-Tiller were joined on stage by Troy Robey on bass and Eric Wiggs on guitar. The group was unassuming and certainly reserved, but the overriding sense was that these are focused and talented musicians. The opener was “Carried Away” and the swelling strings certainly brought a reflective energy to the room. The songs are layered and have a wandering, self-exploring sensibility that truly evoke what I’d imagine a Colorado band of gypsies to sound like. Enion Pelta-Tiller’s voice is reminiscent of Regina Spektor, with the vulnerability and slight hint of defiance that the comparison implies.

The new album features bassist Sam Grisman (son of bluegrass legend David Grisman), guitarist Ross Martin and guest spots by trumpeter Ron Miles, banjoist Jayme Stone, guitarist Grant Gordy and banjo player Dusty Rider. The tracks from the album sound like rising waters, and though there is significant loss associated with the event that inspired the album, there is a hint of optimism, of being stripped bare and starting anew, shining out around the edges. Musically, the sound is close to a southern bluegrass – but with a current of lament streaming through. And in fact, David Tiller, who joined his wife on vocals throughout the night, mentioned that he had lived in Watertown, Virginia, and once he mentioned this, I could certainly hear this geographical influence.

It was a lovely evening, and we could all feel the introspection that saturated the album. A fitting reflection of the Colorado floods and the aftermath – a time when the residents of our beautiful state banded together to recover and rebuild. Making Tracks Home is the soundtrack that we all can understand, and be inspired by.