Porchsleeper

continued

I wonder where that guy is now. I wonder if he knows that his two friends, now grown and married, with desk jobs and mortgages, have formed a weekend-warrior alt-roots/

country-rock band and named it after him. Perhaps he is in the long list of people who get an apology from the band in the liner notes of its wonderfully depressing first CD, Every Day Is Better than the Next.

I saw Porchsleeper in the barnlike performance space above Rubber Soul Records in Ypsilanti. Raleigh, Vertin, and bassist Zac Johnson manhandled the guitars. Leery of the small space, they played a set of lovely lyrical story songs that left me feeling quite melancholy. Johnson even played a banjo at one point.

Then Raleigh said, "Okay, we're through being quiet now." The drummer gave a fast eight count, and we got a look at the real soul of this band as they launched into an up-tempo rock tune with twangy riffs and simple, direct lyrics: "You're the kind of girl I like — the kind that don't like me." The previously cautious drummer, Steve Bekkala, gave those skins something to think about, and all three guitarists sang harmonies. It reminded me of the rock scene in this town in the 1980s, when lots of bands played straight-up, honest rock 'n' roll, served with plenty of drinking.