A Week in Local Rock: Rivers, Tanya, and Karate

Some might see it as incestuous, others merely as close-knit. Whatever your perspective, it's hard to deny that Boston remains big enough to support a thriving rock scene, yet small enough to promote the kind of interactions, collaborations, and recombinations that keep things interesting. Yeah, it's the old Little Big City syndrome that's so much a part of Boston's reputation. And it was on full display last week, as three relatively new rock formations headlined three very different shows.

Weezer frontdude Rivers Cuomo, who quietly moved to Cambridge a couple of years ago, headlined the Paradise a week ago Wednesday. He brought with him a hand-picked group of local players: drummer Zephan Courtney of the art-punk outfit Chevy Heston; Juliana Hatfield bassist Mike Welsh (ex-Heretix/Jocobono); guitarist Kevin Stevenson of the Shods. The once clean-cut Cuomo has grown his hair and, with his shy smile, unassuming stage demeanor, and rumpled clothes, begun to resemble a smaller Evan Dando. He certainly has Dando's pure-pop instincts, and they came through on the new "The Prettiest Girl in the Whole Wide World," a churning little ditty that was pretty much all hook.

In a nine-song set featuring mostly new material, Cuomo (who'll play the Middle East on November 4 with a different local pick-up band) also revealed a predilection for spacier drones and linear arrangements that accrued momentum slowly, all powered by the muscular thud of Courtney's kick drum and the propulsive force of Welsh's bass. He opened with "Rosemary," which built on the solid foundation of a single repeated bass note and a metronomic beat, over which the interplay between the guitars of Cuomo and Stevenson grew gradually more intense until Cuomo stepped on a wah-wah and brought the song to a noise-drenched conclusion. Later, Cuomo dipped into Weezer's songbook for hard-hitting renditions of "Say It Ain't So" and "Undone -- The Sweater Song." You didn't have to be one among the small group of Weezer fans who crowded the front of the stage and sang along to appreciate the thrill of hearing a band rip through those radio hits in such a low-key setting.

There wasn't anything low-key about Tanya Donelly's Friday-night show at Avalon. This was the former Belly frontwoman's first big local gig since the release of Lovesongs for Underdogs (Reprise), the solo debut by a founding member of the influential Throwing Muses and Breeders. Like Cuomo, Donelly hand-picked a backing band of local players (who are touring with her), including former Muses drummer David Narcizo. Her husband, Dean Fisher (once of Juliana Hatfield's band), plays bass and acoustic guitar. Lead guitar is handled by Rich Gilbert, whose local roots go back deeper than Tanya's -- to Human Sexual Response and up through the Zulus and Concussion Ensemble. The line-up is rounded out by keyboardist Elizabeth Steen (formerly of Count Zero), whose lovely vocal harmonies were subtle yet crucial.

Donelly opened alone with an acoustic guitar on a stage festooned with fresh-cut flowers. If the absence of chatter is an accurate measure of an audience's loyalty, then this near-capacity crowd was ready to take a collective bullet for Donelly. Next, Fisher and Gilbert joined her for "Acrobat," another quiet number that showcased Donelly's range as a singer in the little Kate Bush-style feats of wordless vocal gymnastics. But it was with the full band behind her on two straight-up rockers from Lovesongs -- "Pretty Deep" and "The Bright Light" -- that Donelly's star quality shone brightest as she swiveled her hips to Narcizo's driving beats, wrapped her full-bodied voice around swooning melodies, and dug into tunes that sounded as radio-ready live as they do on the disc.

Unfortunately, there isn't a contemporary commercial radio format open to the angular, tension-and-release-driven guitar rock of Karate, a local group with two CDs out on the Chicago indie Southern. But the band's local following was large enough to pack the upstairs room at the Middle East last Saturday for their first show as a slimmed-down trio in the wake of guitarist Eamonn Vitt's recent departure. Opening with a toughened, taut rendition of "If You Can Hold Your Breath," the new Karate (singer/guitarist Geoff Farina, bassist Jeff Goddard, and drummer Gavin McCarthy) sounded even sharper and more intense than the old.

Goddard ably made up for any missing parts with aggressive bass lines that nimbly locked in to McCarthy's precision beats -- they were like an indie-rock version of the Cream rhythm section, busy and bold but balanced. Farina interjected serrated guitar chords and spare, skeletal riffs skewed by his liberal use of a tremolo bar that accentuated the fragile yet stoic melodies carried by his voice. It was a riveting, determined performance by a band who, like the local scene in general, remain more than the sum of their parts, even as those parts shift into new formations.

-- Matt Ashare