Lincoln Calling always gets bigger as the weekend arrives, and this year was no exception. It staged reunions and return from hiatus’s, eclectic environments and new beginnings. Read on for photos and notebooks thoughts from Friday night’s festivities.
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Duffy’s Tavern (early shows)
Bloodhound (Kyle Henderson of Desert Noises)
Kyle Henderson exudes a certain type of indecipherable cool. It was Henderson’s first live performance as Bloodhound — his new singer/songwriter project — one night before Desert Noises would play its last show. His high-pitched indie-pop delivery carried a tenderness through a more somber catalogue riddled with fading memories and breaking down with a significant other. But the cool still showed. He’d crack a cute joke, giggle along with a handful of fans then straighten up as he talked about finding himself out west. He covered Tom Petty. It was the sentimental physical embodiment of coping with beginnings and endings, and Henderson played it like a day at Redondo.
— Andrew Stellmon
McCarthy Trenching
Emily Bass Band
It’s a testament to The Staple Singers that anyone can cover “I’ll Take You There” from their 1972 album Be Altitude and the majority of the room can and will sing along. Saying it’s a universally beloved and well known enough album to cover at such a diverse festival as Lincoln Calling is a little harder to qualify. Fortunately, it’s easy to appreciate the Muscle Shoals Soul sound, with it’s funk and southern fried-ness. It was a great idea to strip these songs down to their bare bones and perform them with backup vocalists, a harmonica and a cajon, but a big idea that could have probably benefited from some more time. That’s not to say Bass along with Jeramie Beahm and their new crew (Jessica Brauer, Jamison Wyatt and Hanna Bendler) didn’t do the album justice. The early evening crowd raised gospel hands, joined in with enthusiastic soul clapping, and sang what they knew at the top of their lungs. It’s a testament to The Staple Singers’ sound that the brand new baby five-piece could perform Be Altitude to serve up a soul shaking and leave the crowd satisfied, satiated and lifted.
— Rebecca Lowry
photos by Lindsey Yoneda
Bodega’s Alley
3 Son Green
It must be a jam-band thing, but the 10 p.m. crowd at Bodega’s felt like it had been there all day, and might actually camp there if given the chance. Kansas City’s 3 Son Green had just wrapped a shredding, Grateful-Dead-style jam, and launched itself into a cover of “Clint Eastwood.” The rhythm easily lends itself to a jam-style cover, but more important was the connection. It’s a jam-band thing to do, despite how oddly pace-altering it is, to shift gears from a well-known — if slightly campy — cover. But looking around, no one seemed to care about set placement or transitions or really anything else. As long as 3 Son Green continued to jam, they were going to sing along until whenever.
— Andrew Stellmon
photos by Nickolai Hammar
Bourbon Theatre
The Renfields
Oquoa
Twinsmith
I’ll pause here long enough to note how startlingly neat a choice “Alligator Years” is as a closing number. Twinsmith has been their typically fun selves, through dancy keyboard lines and Jordan Smith’s cooing. His deep, echoing guitar charges and Matt Regner’s keyboard flourishes combined for an uplifting, energetic finish.
— Andrew Stellmon
Head of Femur
photos by Lindsey Yoneda
Knickerbockers
Gordon
Hyborian
Desir Decir
Powers
photos by James Dean
Single Barrel
Belles and Whistles
This was the first year Lincoln Calling used the Single Barrel steakhouse. Suffering from a lesser accessibility, the bar was largely populated with the other musicians playing that night, and the floor was full of diners who were there more for the brisket than for the entertainment. This fact did not stop Belles & Whistles from bringing dancers to the dance floor. Vocally reminiscent of Dolly Parton minus her twang, part reminiscent of The Judds with their tight familial harmonies, the mother-daughter duo of Jaymie and Kelli Jones were a perfect fit for the venue. Belles & Whistles is an unapologetic country pop project from Omaha. Don’t expect them to sing about Husker football though–they will always choose to write with substance and experience over the cheese and machinery currently associated with country music. Jaymie and Kelli are also more interested in cultivating a covers catalogue from their actual influences, choosing to cover First Aid Kit’s “Emmylou,” instead of yet another tired rendition of “Wagon Wheel” or “Jambalaya.”
— Rebecca Lowry
Matt Cox Band
If Belles & Whistles was tough to follow, it was mostly because Matt Cox wasn’t there to facilitate a swing dance, nor is that his natural speed. In an alternate reality, the air is thick with actual cigarette smoke, not from a machine. There’s barb wired chain-link fence separating Cox’s whiskey-soaked delivery and the hardwood hoedown platform below him. Instead, it’s just a steakhouse, and you get the sense that most of its patrons might enjoy Cox were they to listen closely. I spoke with both segments of the audience: those that were taking in Cox’s stories and bluesy leads, and those who came, as they would on any other night, to cut a rug. Oh! That’s that festival-thing, right?
As I walked back towards 14th and O, I ducked into the Zoo Bar for a minute of Rock Paper Dynamite. The Omaha band’s brand of southern rock would have probably surprised and delighted down at Single Barrel. That’s not to speak ill of the festival, just how close in taste a segment of its acts were. It made me think of all the near misses, and how neat it would be to see the cross-section of that band’s fans and Single Barrel frequenters. But in the end, regardless of who knew they were part of a downtown-spanning music festival, It was a good thing to see people getting down to original Nebraska music.
— Andrew Stellmon
Dylan Bloom Band
photos by James Dean
Zoo Bar
Laughing Falcon
Rock Paper Dynamite
American Pinup & FREAKABOUT
If Rockabilly queen Imelda May and “Tragic Kingdom” era No Doubt had a baby and raised it in New York City on a steady diet of surf rock and protopunk, you would have American Pinup. The NYC band played to a crowded and steadily growing Zoo audience, restlessly anticipating the return of tour buddies and Lincoln locals FREAKABOUT. Lauren West’s growl effortlessly rose above the din and got the kids dancing. It was obvious this was the last show at the end of a month-long tour by the band’s effortless performance. There was nary a note out of place, as with many sentimental well wishes, Lauren West and her boys handed off the baton to Cortney Kirby and her boys. 
It must have been a month-long race well run. Kirby was in peak vocal shape, making minimal use of her effects pad. New bassist Ben Frerichs has seamlessly slipped into place while he, alongside drummer Zach Zoellner, physically shook the room with their collective rumble. Guitarist Aaron Galvan, focused, sweaty, and out to win, left the audience in the dust as he ushered the band across the finish line. There’s no doubt the Lincoln crowd would have doused the band with a Gatorade shower if there had been a cooler full of the stuff just lying around. What a welcome home.
— Rebecca Lowry
photos by Peter Barnes
Duffy’s Tavern (Late)
Domestica
As an Omaha resident, I’m going to butt in and say that Lincoln is so, so lucky to have Domestica. This was my first time finally getting to see them live. I always read or hear about how Heidi Ore, Jon Taylor are icons of Nebraska rock–and now I understand. Heidi, with her voice as powerful as the sun’s rays and easily as incendiary, incited grown-ass men in the audience to wail along with her, trying to meet her intense note for intense note. Domestica left the audience quaking, with liquid legs and busted guts.
— Rebecca Lowry
See Through Dresses
The Omaha quartet brought their set to Duffy’s Tavern after Domestica, and met the challenge of taking the already thoroughly rocked audience to another level. See Through Dresses’ catalogue was a wash of 90s hitmakers for a new age. They have a grittier, grimier command of sound, thanks in part to Sara Bertuldo and Matthew Carroll’s exchanges of rhythm and lead guitar. Go ahead and compare “Drag Scene” with Gin Blossoms’ “Hey, Jealousy.” Drummer Nate Van Fleet’s style resembled that of muppet Animal, only with a cleaner cut face. He matched Bertuldo’s shredding peak for peak. While the music was flawless, bottle rocket Bertuldo stole the show as always — at one point literally playing while on her head.
— Rebecca Lowry
Bummer
Halfwit
It was about the time that frontman Dan Jenkins shoved a couple of errant moshers from the Duffy’s Tavern stage that it became clear why and how Halfwit has cemented its scene presence. The four-piece rock band emerged after a six-month concert hiatus, closing night four of Lincoln Calling and releasing the tape produced in its absence. It exhibited sludgier punk elements at times, squeezing out seemingly-endless heart-thudding sequences and long melodic intros. It says something about the scene that one of its heaviest bands is also its most revered. Not only does it have a taste for any different genres, but it has an decent historical memory to match. The band is an assemblage of scene stalwarts, and they either seem to know as much or carry heavy audiences naturally. After watching Saber Blazek careen around the stage to be rhythm of his bass, Lance Fiedler mash his drumset and Jenkins fight off the hoard, it’s most likely the latter. The former can go to hell.
— Andrew Stellmon
photos by Lindsey Yoneda