Daughter Vision, Nod, Pengo, and Rob Noyes

Friday, Aug 23, 2019 - 8:00 PM


586 Broadway Kingston, NY 12401


Daughter Vision


If a distantly futuristic culture enamored with 80’s drum machines and performance art wanted to warn us of our impending doom, they’d probably send us Daughter Vision. If a small stage in a dive bar can be a space ship, Daughter Vision can fly it. They crawled off the pages of a comic book and refuse to go back in.

Based out of Asbury Park, NJ, Daughter Vision combines analogue and digital sound with varied and disparate song motifs. Presented with a degree of pop and dance sensibilities and a penchant for performance and theatricality, Daughter Vision creates a gestalt of sound that is both unique and familiar, and a live experience that is energetic and compelling.



Nod - Since they first began playing together in a Rochester, NY, basement in the spring in 1990, Nod has been churning out off-beat funk/punk rock with an undercurrent of Velvets noise and chaos. Members Joe Sorriero (guitar, vocals), Tim Poland (bass), and Brian Shafer (drums), have shown an alternate-tuning free/out groove craziness on a series of 8 self-produced albums (and a smattering of other releases in various forms) spanning nearly three decades, including a bunch of releases on Sonic Youth drummer Steve Shelley’s Smells Like Records. The Nod guys also did some time in legendary noise/weird jazz combos Coffee and Arthur Doyle Electro-Acoustic Ensemble. Nod’s latest release on Carbon, So Much Tonight, echoes early Talking Heads, and (though Nod predates them) Pavement. Call it omnipunk. While references and comparisons to other acts abound, their style never sits still long enough to be pinned down.



Legendary, highly volatile, psych-primitive unit from the autumnal climate of upstate New York. Fondling the same clammy flesh as Sunburned Hand of The Man and No Neck Blues Band, this band of John Schoen, Jason Finkbeiner, Nuuj and Joe Tunis marry fucked-up turntable sound with acoustic (broken folk?) instrumentation, tapes and voices to dazzling effect.

Rob Noyes



"Rob Noyes has been on the Eastern Massachusetts scene for a while, but what we've heard him play is music from within the context of electric bands, most of whom are loud as hell and exist somewhere along the rim of the post-core continuum. More recently, Rob has taken to displaying his solo acoustic guitar chops and they are massive. The Feudal Spirit is the first vinyl evidence of their 'shoulders.' Like Western Mass's Tony Pasquarosa, who mines the same widely-variant style-pits, Rob's approach to acoustic playing resembles his electric work only through shared-belief-in-a-strong-downstroke. On the way to developing his own compositional/performance approach, Noyes sometimes seems to have absorbed an almost infinite reservoir of influences. Apart from some superb Basho-like 12-string tunneling, most momentary fragments tend to recall legendary Limeys like John Renbourn (and through him, Davey Graham), because Rob's overt melodic structures tend towards the non-bluesoid. But then you'll maybe hear a note-sequence spiced like something dropped from the hot strings of Michael Chapman or even a powerful throng that makes you think of Wizz Jones. When that happens, you realize there's more of a blues base to some of the songs than you'd been able to untangle. Mr. Noyes hits a vast array of sub-genres on this album, and he hits them all pretty damn hard. Rob's playing carries the weight of many possibly-imaginary forebears, but the way he smears them all together shows a holistic mastery of touch and imagination that defies a lot of today's players, who tend to shine in short bursts, then allow their dreams to outrun their technique. Rob Noyes has no such apparent limitations. Like Raymond Pettibon, whose artwork graces The Feudal Spirit's cover, Rob's able to create a true form-gobble, making some real beautiful noise in the process. Around the world, licensed Hodologists whisper, 'Make mine Noyes.' Why don't you join them?" --Byron Coley, October 23rd, 2016, South Deerfield, MA.