For the most part, a band's sound is equal to the mood it creates. Although subjective, a few instances would be how a catchy pop band will make you smile and be cheery, or a sneering punk band will make you want to smash some corporate ass.

Helm's Alee is the musical equivalent to being punched in the face — but I found myself smiling hugely when in the presence of their show. Although on a surface level listening to their music recorded makes you think of a wrath, at their show the feeling is rather positive. I cannot really describe the Seattle trio much past the bodily injury comparison, as their sound is pretty unironically unique.

Catching them for the first time in a small enclosed venue like King Cobra, I wondered how their sonic density would translate onto an outdoor festival stage. I found that the band's music still came hurtling at us in the same full-speed train manner. There is something about the way the music comes across as though the players were pouring their hearts out each time. The smile I gain from their show was caught from the band's own contagious smiles when they perform.

Their drummer is a chick not much bigger than a drumstick, but I would place my money on her in a local drum-off. Her expressions toss between looking out-of-body possessed and in as much awe of her wildly flailing arms as the rest of us watching. The singer and guitarist looks like he couldn't be more stoked to be playing on stage, as if he were given a once in a lifetime experience. The bassist, on the other hand, wears a face as though being a badass bassist is just an everyday thing, like brushing your teeth.

They served as an opener for the two day Georgetown Festival, and what a hell of way to kick things off. Especially when the sound board started to catch on fire and smoke!