Metro Pulse/Music/The Cherry Valence

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What:
The Cherry Valence with Deadly Snakes and Newport

When:
Wednesday, March 20 at 9 p.m.

Where:
Pilot Light

Cost:
$5

The Cherry Valence rocks on the edge of control

by Matthew T. Everett

The Cherry Valence plays unrepentantly loud rock and roll. Its first self-titled album, released in May, is a bruising collection of boozy, swaggering three-chord hard rock, all sweat and beer and energy. The band has toured with the Fucking Champs and the Tight Bros. From Way Back When, and the Cherry Valence shares with those bands a taste for straight-up retro metal. But the Cherry Valence also digs into organ-drenched garage rock, droning noise, weird falsetto vocals, and a wall of sound that owes equal debt to Phil Spector and the New York No Wave scene of the 1980s.

"A lot of that is that on any given song we'll have one of three or four different line-ups," says Nick Whitely, who plays drums, sings, and writes most of the band's material with drummer/ organist Brian Quast. "We might have two drum sets, or we might trade off, or one or the other of us sings. It gives each song a different groove, a different feel."

The Cherry Valence veers from '70s FM radio rock to blustery MC5 blooze-punk to super-funky James Brown guitar breakdowns, without ever fully losing their simple rawk and roll edge. It's a fairly sloppy record, in a good way, and captures a desperate, living-on-the-edge vibe that the band carries for the full 35 minutes. Whitely, Quast, and the rest of the band—bassist Paul Siler and guitarists Cheetie and Jamie Williams—teeter on the edge of control throughout the debut, tilting over the line just enough to keep it interesting. It's a fun record, without the self-imposed ironic discipline of the Fucking Champs or the testosterone-addled brawl of the Quadrajets and the Tight Bros., and promises an enthusiastic and spirited performance. (This is their fourth stop at the Pilot Light; Whitely played the band's first show there with a broken toe, so he assures any of the dozen or so people who saw that performance that this one will be an improvement.)

The debut record and steady touring over the last three years—in an old North Carolina state prison van they bought at auction, no less—haven't exactly brought the band national acclaim, but they've gotten enough attention to keep them on the road and in the studio. They've just finished recording a second full-length record for release in July, and an EP is scheduled to be out in May. Whitely's glad that new material will be out soon.

"For one thing, there's a better chance that somebody might recognize a song and get excited about hearing it," he says. "People can appreciate a live show more when they can sing along. We've been going to a lot of the same places and seeing the same people, and they're all like, 'Damn, I've already got this.'"

But more than anything, Whitely thinks the new record due out this summer better represents the band.

"The second record's way better than the first one," he says. "The first record's decent, but we spent twice as much time on this one, and that made a huge difference. The songs are all better, and we've all gotten better as instrumentalists, and I'm sure singing a lot better. There's some stuff on the old record that makes me cringe."

For the first time, Whitely didn't get a job after the band returned to Raleigh, N.C., from their fall tour. He's nervous about admitting that he's a professional musician now, but he does acknowledge that the band's fortunes are brighter these days, with the new records and support from their label, Estrus Records.

"We've made several quick steps up in the last year," he says. "In May the record came out, and we got a booking agent. That means there's less of a shoestring vibe to it. I mean, we're doing more than just trying not to starve while we're doing this thing that can start to feel like a very expensive hobby."

But touring remains a key part of being in a young band. Luckily, Whitely says he loves being on the road.

"The more I'm on the road, the more I feel like staying out there. Some people are like, 'I don't see how you do it.' I just seem to like being in all these different places and seeing new things and new people."