Goliathon

November 29

Shortly after the newly-created band Goliathon stepped off stage at The Vollrath, a fellow concertgoer looked over and complained that they were “too metal.” Having to wonder what this guy perceived as metal, I equated the critique to “too heavy” or even “too loud”; in either case, I’m sure the band would take it as a compliment.

Goliathon — created with members from Hustler — seemed to rely heavily on ’70s rock influences, and, yes, it felt very stoner-ish. Not what’s been passing for “stoner” the past few years (i.e., anything fuzzy with drawn-out bridge parts), but rather music created by and for people high on marijuana. Somewhere in the middle of a keyboard-laden riff with a harmonica or saxophone lead, the guitars, bass, vocals and drums all worked in harmony for one simple purpose: to rock.

These kids might have stolen their parents’ Zeppelin and Savoy Brown records, but they’ve probably also got iPods filled with Wolfmother and Kyuss.

The “too metal” guy might have been thrown off by Goliathon’s sound after watching Live Animal’s set, which consisted of a throwback act of another kind: imagine Bob Dylan fighting with Neil Young over who was more politically conscious. Live Animal was a one-man show on acoustic guitar and harmonica. At times I was wondering if his whole shtick was a little too serious or simply tongue-in-cheek. While certainly not the best guitarist out there, his lyrics and stage presence were beyond his years and made up for anything else he may have lacked.

The other highlight of the show was the venue itself. Tucked just south of the wholesale district, the recently revamped Vollrath Tavern (118 E. Palmer St., www.vollrathindy.com) is more than your average neighborhood bar. Owner Brian Alvey has spent the past year working to turn it into a stage known for original, local music and cheap beer. The Vollrath also has deep ties with Indy’s history: It was once a speakeasy and brothel during the prohibition era and is rumored to have been the stomping ground of both Al Capone and John Dillinger. During police raids, well-known convicts or even average working stiffs could avoid the heat by using one of the bar’s many underground escape routes to simply walk out into the nearby neighborhood.
- Nuvo Magizine