Lucius

Caspian

It takes 30 minutes to get from the sleepy seaside town of Beverly into downtown Boston. It takes half of that time to get through “Sycamore,” the 2009 anthem of Beverly band Caspian, but the journey is essentially the same. The songs starts with an acoustic guitar line so sleepy, hesitant, and peaceful it’s difficult to imagine even leaving that sonic space. But the wheels start to turn, the riff picks up momentum, and soon a woozy bass and pulsating drum beat enter, as if to simulate the rumble of rubber wheels down the cement number 1 highway. Then the guitars turn electric, drum cymbals crash furiously, and the song is enveloped in a roar of frenzied, industrial metallic feedback. The city has arrived, with all of its hum and density.

Charmingly Ghetto

“Peace man. It’s CG. I believe we can blur the lines of academia and hip-hop in a very subtle way. Get the ball rolling with new leaders of industry at esteemed Ivy institutions, etc. All through what we converse about, you know? Peace.”

You Won't

The opening song of a concert set is a statement. It sets the tone for the rest of the night and often serves to fire up the audience and make them excited they came. At the Boston Calling music festival in September, for example, Vampire Weekend started off with the stomper "Diane Young," and Kendrick Lamar busted right into his verse on the hip-hop anthem "Fuckin’ Problems." The two were bold, unexpected choices that threw the crowd into a frenzy.

Viva Viva

Charlie’s Kitchen in Harvard Square isn’t the tamest scene. Juicy burgers and free-flowing beer contribute to a rowdy atmosphere. However, most nights at Charlie’s are probably not as chaotic as the time that Viva Viva played there live. In the middle of the set, the ceiling started falling apart. Stray electric wires popped out of the cracks, and the band was quickly asked to shut down the show. “We may or may not have broken things,” lead singer Vicini says slyly. “I figure people were just rocking too hard.”