Seen outside the Knitting Factory after Chelsea Wolfe.
Seen outside the Knitting Factory after Chelsea Wolfe.

Yesterday was Day 2 [see our coverage of Day 1 here!] of Boise's Treefort Music Fest, which feels a lot like Portland's MusicfestNW used to before it consolidated to two days at the waterfront. A handful of venues host shows concurrently, so there's a lot of running around trying to figure out where the heck you are, but downtown is exceedingly walkable. Boise itself is a little big city tucked into the armpit of some nice-looking mountains—it's nicknamed the City of Trees, but so far I'm pretty unimpressed by the arboreal turnout. While ambling down Main Street yesterday I found a Treefort special for $9 sterling silver toe rings. Alas, I did not indulge.


After passing up the deal of a lifetime, I went to the Linen Factory to see beloved, legendary Portland lo-fi dream pop band Point Juncture, WA, who came together for a reunion show and even played some new material for adoring fans. Then I headed to the Neurolux to see Israeli rockers Vaadat Charigim—an experience that almost didn't happen, according to lead singer Yuval Haring. "We drove here in a blizzard," he said, feigning solemnity. "We almost died." He wore a pin that stated, "I'm a Burger Genius," representing Orange County tape empire Burger Records. I fell into the band's psych/shoegaze trance, eventually shaking myself awake to head over to El Korah Shrine where Wax Idols were taking the stage.

Wax Idols were good—I dig their glammy goth-punk—but I was seriously captivated by El Korah Shrine. It feels like the mess hall at an isolated summer camp, kitschy and charming but unmistakably creepy. From a cursory glance at their website, it sounds like the "Shriners" (as they call themselves) are a Masonic fraternal order that formed in the late 1800s and is comprised of mostly old white dudes who wear these fez-looking hats. I'm not sure what they do, why they do it, or why they need a huge venue to do whatever "it" is. More on them as the weekend progresses.


Our supreme ruler of darkness Chelsea Wolfe was backlit and bathed in fog at the Knitting Factory as she played her droning doom folk. After most of the crowd had dispersed like the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz to go see Thee Oh Sees, Wolfe returned to the stage for an encore where she screamed bloodcurdlingly into her guitar.


Walking into Thee Oh Sees, it felt like the entire festival had been hooked up to an IV of vodka Red Bull. It was my second time seeing them (my first being at Burger Records' 2015 Burgerama festival), and it was just as wild. People were stage-diving off of amps, tumbling into a churning but markedly friendly mosh pit. The band's garage-punk sounds like it's been struck by lightning, resulting in some of the most infectious dance music I've ever wiggled to.

Stay tuned for continuing Treefort Music Fest coverage right here on Blogtown! And go here for coverage from Day 1!