Gliss.

Credits: Stephen Carradini

After failed attempts to see both fun. and Say Anything, I saw a sign for Ezra Furman and ducked into his set. I was immediately surprised to see that Ezra Furman was wearing nothing but boxer briefs, socks and an acoustic guitar. After the initial shock, Furman's pre-electric Bob Dylan-esque folk charmed my ears. Joe Pug is also a natural comparison; both weave complicated wordplay and imagery through their lyrics, moving their vocal delivery between an almost atonal roar to plaintive singing. I enjoyed the set after the awkwardness wore off; his poetry is pretty solid, and his guitar playing is better than your average folkie's.

I ran back to Sixth Street to Trinity Hall, my last destination of the evening. Pomegranates and The Black and White Years were scheduled to play back to back, and both bands were high on my to-see list. But before they went on, Gliss took the stage.

Gliss is a trio of a woman and two men; the woman sings, strums the guitar and plays keys. The two men hold down drums/electronic beats and guitar. Together they create a dreamy, shimmering sound that sways more than sprints. The songs glided along smoothly, easing to a halt instead of abrupt stops. It was easy to get lost in the sound and let it envelop you; it's similar to School of Seven Bells in that way, but with less huge walls of distortion.