‘Inuksuit’ at Pritzker Pavilion

The rainy weather on Sunday (Aug. 26) seemed at first like it might ruin eighth blackbird‘s plans to perform composer John Luther Adams’ piece “Inuksuit” with a hundred or so musicians in Millennium Park. After all, these musicians weren’t just going to be playing on the Pritzker Pavilion’s stage. The idea of this performance (and Adams’ concept) is that the musicians would perform at various scattered spots all over the park.

Some daring concertgoers took seats in front of the stage, staying dry under the pavilion’s roof, but then one of the ensemble members explained that we’d have to venture out onto the lawn to experience the music in the first section of Adams’ piece. It was hard to tell at first that the music had even begun. Some people carrying umbrellas or wearing ponchos formed a circle in the lawn, watching something and a sound emerged from that circle — the sound of people blowing into seashells.

“Inuksuit” (“a stone landmark or cairn … used by the Inuit, Inupiat, Kalaallit, Yupik, and other peoples of the Arctic region of North America”) had begun. The audience and performers commingled on the grass as a light rain fell, the weather actually adding another element of sound to Adams’ textures, which were designed to evoke the natural world anyway.

First came the hornlike sound of seashells. And then people waved plastic tubes, making a high-pitched hum. Then came a clatter of drums from all over the lawn. And then other participants began cranking hand-operated sirens. What had begun like an atmospheric backdrop of sounds recorded on a beach sounded like a man-made thunderstorm, complete with sirens warning us all to take shelter. And almost as soon as “Inuksuit” reached this dramatic sensation of alarm, the rain really began to pour down. As it happened, the drummers assembled in front of the stage were playing now, which made it a convenient time to seek shelter up there.

I couldn’t see what happened to the musicians out on the lawn after this — how many of them stayed out there. Adams’ layers of percussion eventually gave way to a tranquil coda of glockenspiels dueling with bird-mimicking piccolos. The peaceful ending of this stormy composition lingered awhile, finally fading into silence. Silence except for the ambient sound of that rain, which was still coming down hard. The audience paused. If others were thinking the same thing as me, they were uncertain whether the music had actually ended. Finally, someone shouted “Bravo!” and the crowd gave the performers a rousing ovation. It felt like we had been part of the performance.

inuksuit
inuksuit
inuksuit
inuksuit
inuksuit
inuksuit
inuksuit
inuksuit
inuksuit
inuksuit
inuksuit
inuksuit
inuksuit

Wussy at Bucktown Arts Fest

Is Wussy “the best band in America,” as the “Dean of Rock Critics,” Robert Christgau, recently proclaimed? Well, not quite, in my opinion. But Wussy is a pretty terrific band, with a string of four great records since 2005 (or five, if you count a limited-edition acoustic record). And this is exactly the sort of band that deserves some hyperbolic praise from a famous rock critic. So if Robert Christgau wants to kick the rest of the world in the pants for not paying attention to a little Cincinnati band he loves, who can blame him?

Wussy’s been flying under most people’s radar for the past seven years. Their excellent 2011 record, Strawberry, was barely noticed by critics and music websites. Wussy has played in Chicago a few times, but the gigs have always been low-profile and low-publicity. I’d never seen Wussy (though I did see the Ass Ponys, a previous band featuring Wussy’s Chuck Cleaver, once at Lounge Ax), and I was starting to wonder when I’d ever get a chance. After Strawberry came out, the band failed to make a Chicago appearance in 2011. And then most of 2012 passed by without a gig here. Finally… the Wussy website listed an Aug. 25 show at the Bucktown Arts Fest. This is not one of Chicago’s more prominent street festivals, but hey, at least Wussy was finally coming to my city. Like previous Wussy shows here, this one happened without much publicity, though Chicagoist ran a nice preview.

And so it was that Wussy at last took the stage Saturday afternoon, in front of a small bunch of appreciative fans as well as a bunch of festivalgoers who probably had no idea who they were. Such is the nature of small street festivals. Who knows what all of the bystanders thought, but the hard-core fans seemed to love it. Playing songs stretching from the first Wussy album up to the most recent, the band captured that loose and occasionally ragged spirit that makes its records sound so real. Cleaver and the band’s other singer-guitarist, Lisa Walker, were in good spirits, with self-deprecating jokes. After audience members shouted out some requests, they departed from their set list to give the fans what they wanted. Thanks, Wussy.

Wussy’s coming back to Chicago in October, but this time, the band will be opening for the Afghan Whigs at Metro. Later, they’re playing some dates elsewhere in the U.S. as the opening act for Heartless Bastards. I’m hoping they win some new fans in the process. In the meantime, all of Wussy’s records are streaming and available for sale at the band’s Bandcamp page. You can also buy these records from Wussy’s local Cincinnati label, Shake It Records.

Wussy
Wussy
Wussy
Wussy
Wussy
Wussy
Wussy
Wussy
Wussy
Wussy
Wussy
Wussy
Wussy
Wussy
Wussy
Wussy

‘The Fall of the House of Usher’

Tien Doman (foreground), Halena Kays and Christine Stulik (background); photo by Matthew Gregory Hollis

Talk about dreary and oppressive — Edgar Allan Poe really laid it on thick with “The Fall of the House of Usher.” Just read the with its abundance of dismal adjectives and adverbs:

During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country; and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher.

As hauntingly weird as the story is, it’s hard not to chuckle a little bit at just how over-the-top it goes with its depiction of … Well, what does it depict, exactly? It’s not exactly a straightforward horror or ghost story. More like a suffocation under layers of psychological maladies, written long before modern terms were coined for mental disorders.

The Hypocrites lean heavily toward a campy and humorous reading of Poe’s story in their new Chicago stage version, adapted and directed by Sean Graney. The three actresses intone Poe’s words in the quivering style of a creaky old-fashioned melodrama — intentionally overwrought acting that is intended to prompt laughs. And the audience did indeed laugh on opening night, even though I found it only intermittently amusing.

More interesting was the way Hypocrites’ three female cast members — Tien Doman, Halena Kays and Christine Stulik — kept switching costumes and changing roles during the play, a ruse similar to the one Charles Ludlum used in The Mystery of Irma Vep. The women don fake facial hair whenever they play the part of the melancholy host of the creepy house, Roderick Usher, and doff it when they switch to one of the other roles. Meanwhile, the play changes Poe’s unnamed narrator, a boyfriend friend visiting Usher’s home, into a woman — adding sexual tension to the situation.

The costume-swapping increases in rapidity as the play moves toward its climax, with a clever visual gag finally letting the audience in on the joke of what’s happening. In the end, all of these antics do serve a purpose beyond amusing us. They heighten the original story’s sense of disturbing thoughts permeating the walls and flowing contagiously from one person to the next. They make the characters feel like mental extensions of one another. When this adaptation of Poe’s Usher gets peculiar and creepy at its conclusion, it finally clicks.

The Fall of the House of Usher continues through Sept. 23 at the Chopin Theater. See the-hypocrites.com for details.

The Master in 70 mm at the Music Box

Paul Thomas Anderson’s highly anticipated film The Master is peculiar and puzzling. The main characters are unlikable, and somewhat opaque. The pacing is uneven, feeling at times like the audience is being marched through a series of ordeals rather than being invited to follow along as a plot unfolds. The ambiguous ending will leave many viewers scratching their heads.

And yet, in its own defiantly odd ways, The Master is a riveting and deeply affecting experience, with majestically beautiful cinematography and powerful acting. It’s not surprising that a film by Anderson would have all of these qualities. In some ways, The Master echoes the structure and themes of his previous film, There Will Be Blood. After one viewing, The Master does not feel quite as strong as that 2007 masterpiece, but it’s intensely interesting, an estimable addition to Anderson’s stellar body of work.

Chicago’s Music Box Theatre held a special screening of The Master in 70 mm on Thursday night (Aug. 16), announcing the charity event with about 24 hours’ notice. Not surprisingly, the 700 tickets sold out in two hours or so. Anderson wants his film to be seen in 70 mm, and the images looked breathtakingly beautiful and sharp in this format.

Alas, as Time Out Chicago critic Ben Kenigsberg pointed out, there aren’t many theaters capable of showing 70 mm films today. The Music Box is the only cinema in Chicago equipped to do it, and it looks unlikely that The Master will show in 70 mm when it opens in other Chicago theaters next month. After Kenigsberg brought attention to the issue, Anderson and the Music Box scheduled last night’s surprise showing. Now, the Music Box’s Dave Jennings says the theater is trying to schedule a run of The Master in 70 mm sometime this winter. The Master will probably look very good in 35 mm … and later on, it will look lovely on DVD and Blu-ray. But the clarity of detail and the richness of color in the 70 mm print were really magnificent. As cinemas switch over to digital projectors, how many more chances will we have to see any films in 70 mm again?

As early reports have indicated, The Master is clearly inspired by the true story of L. Ron Hubbard, the founder of Scientology. The names have been changed, however, and Anderson is not trying to tell a straightforward docudrama about this controversial church, which critics have called a cult. Philip Seymour Hoffman plays Lancaster Dodd, a charismatic leader similar to Hubbard, but the film is framed as the story of another character, Joaquin Phoenix’s Freddie—an alcoholic, sociopathic brute who can’t control his sexual urges, his thirst for paint-thinner cocktails or his impulses to smash the head of anyone who looks at him wrong. (Phoenix’s performance is frighteningly believable, although he mumbles so much that some of his lines are incomprehensible.)

Once Freddie falls into Dodd’s strange group, Dodd struggles to turn Freddie into a better man, using his trademark techniques, a combination of talk therapy, mumbo jumbo and repetitive drills reminiscent of water torture. Or is Dodd merely trying to get another convert to his Cause (as his book is called)? Although Dodd remains something of an enigma, a mystery man hidden behind the façade of a genius and messiah, his desire to transform Freddie from an animal into a civilized human being seems sincere. The struggle to remake Freddie is at the heart of The Master, and Hoffman and Phoenix bring searing intensity to these scenes.

Other scenes are so strange that they feel surreal, beginning with the film’s opening moments, showing Phoenix’s character humping a naked woman made out of sand on a beach — and culminating with Hoffman’s character eerily bursting out into song. They’re some of the oddest moments in an odd and unforgettable film.

Watch the trailers for The Master — including some scenes that apparently ended up on the cutting-room floor:

(Photos from Rotten Tomatoes.)

R.I.P. Etc.

Notes and photos from the past couple of weeks.

R.I.P. Bill Doss. The singer for the Olivia Tremor Control and member of the Elephant 6 psychedelic collective has died at the age of 43. No news yet on the circumstances, but the news comes as a shock just a few weeks after Doss and the Olivia Tremor Control performed at the Pitchfork Music Festival. Here’s a photo I took of Doss in March 2011, when he played during the Elephant 6 Holiday Surprise Tour show at Lincoln Hall:

Bill Doss
Bill Doss

And here’s an audience video of the Olivia Tremor Control playing one of their best songs, “Hideaway,” at the recent Pitchfork Fest:

Another R.I.P. — but this one is for a band, Hollows. This Chicago girl group (well, mostly girl group) had just released am album of strong, catchy tunes, Vulture, so it came as a shock when Loud Loop Press reported that the band’s July 17 show at the Burlington could be its last — at least, for the band’s current incarnation. The reason? Lead singer Maria Jenkins is moving to New York. During the set at the Burlington that night, Jenkins told the crowd of adoring fans, “This is our last show ever. You’re never gonna hear this shit again.” And then, as Hollows took off their guitar straps after the last song, the fans practically pleaded for an encore. But the girls of Hollows would play no more. At least one of them was crying as they left the stage.

I didn’t take photos at the Burlington show, but here’s a photo Maria Jenkins singing with Hollows back on June 7, 2010, when they opened for She and Him at Millennium Park:

Leroy Bach, formerly of Wilco and various other bands, played a rather interesting set July 24 at the Hideout. Bach led a sextet of acoustic guitarists, sitting on chairs in the Hideout’s front room, playing unamplified in front of about 20 people. The apparently improvised and often discordant music sounded like layered drones, a live analog version of looping, with overlapping figures going in and out of synch. The music was hushed but oddly unsettling.

Kalman Balogh, a Hungarian master of the cimbalom, played July 26 at Martyr’s, making hauntingly beautiful music on that Old World instrument, which sounds like a cousin of the dulcimer and harpsichord. (Thanks to the Chicago Reader for tipping me off to this show.)

Wicker Park Fest happened Saturday and Sunday, continuing Chicago’s string of street festivals. I was there for part of the day on Saturday, catching Screaming Females, Cursive, Walter Salas-Humara and a supergroup called the Baseball Project — which usually includes Peter Buck, Scott McCaughey, Steve Wynn and Linda Pitmon. Buck didn’t play with the band on Saturday, but oddly enough, another member of R.E.M., Mike Mills, did. Ira Kaplan of Yo La Tengo (who are recording in Chicago lately) also joined in for one songs. The Baseball Project’s songs, all of them about baseball, were generally pretty catchy and fun, but the highlight of the show came when Mills sang the R.E.M. classic “(Don’t Go Back To) Rockville.”

Screaming Females
Screaming Females

Screaming Females
Screaming Females

Screaming Females
Screaming Females

Screaming Females
Screaming Females

Walter Salas-Humara
Walter Salas-Humara

Scott McCaughey of the Baseball Project
Scott McCaughey of the Baseball Project

Steve Wynn and Mike Mills of the Baseball Project
Steve Wynn and Mike Mills of the Baseball Project

Steve Wynn of the Baseball Project
Steve Wynn of the Baseball Project

Linda Pitmon of the Baseball Project
Linda Pitmon of the Baseball Project

Steve Wynn, Mike Mills and Scott McCaughey of the Baseball Project
Steve Wynn, Mike Mills and Scott McCaughey of the Baseball Project

Mike Mills of the Baseball Project
Mike Mills of the Baseball Project

Cursive
Cursive

Charles Bradley and Abigail Washburn

Charles Bradley
Charles Bradley

Were those tears on Charles Bradley’s face or just beads of sweat? Both, I’d venture to guess. It had been about 100 degrees earlier in the day and was still fairly steamy when Bradley hit the stage Monday night (July 16) at Millennium Park’s Pritzker Pavilion — and he’s an energetic performer who tends to sweat anyway, in the tradition of another singer he resembles in many ways, the legendarily hardworking James Brown. But Bradley’s songs are also drenched with emotion.

Just as he did at last summer’s Chicago gig, Bradley strained his voice to the limits, screaming and shouting and squeezing out notes bursting with both pain and passion. His band, the Extraordinaries, kept a soulful groove bouncing through the whole set, including a few instrumental tracks, but the focus was on Bradley, who truly seemed to wow the audience with his unbridled intensity as well as his heartfelt comments. His encore made a strong case for “Why Is It So Hard” being one of the great songs of recent years, and as the song ended, Bradley descended from the stage and hugged some of his fans across the security barricade for several minutes.

Speaking of security barricades… Bradley urged audience members to get up close to the stage and start dancing, but Millennium Park’s security guards refused to let anyone into that area (reserved for press photographer such as myself), or even to stand in the aisles. Security concerns and keeping the aisles open are legitimate concerns, but surely the guards could lighten up a bit. At least, people were allowed to stand up in front of their seats and sway to Bradley’s soul-baring soul music.
thecharlesbradley.com

Charles Bradley
Charles Bradley

Charles Bradley
Charles Bradley

Charles Bradley
Charles Bradley

Charles Bradley
Charles Bradley

Charles Bradley
Charles Bradley

Charles Bradley
Charles Bradley

Charles Bradley
Charles Bradley

Charles Bradley
Charles Bradley

Charles Bradley
Charles Bradley

Charles Bradley
Charles Bradley

The Extraordinaires
The Extraordinaires

Monday’s free concert also featured an excellent opening act, folk singer-songwriter-banjoist Abigail Washburn. She sang lovely original compositions as well as a couple of old gospel and folk songs of the sort that you’ll hear on Alan Lomax’s field recordings — and even a song in Chinese, which she learned when she lived in China. Washburn’s music was often quiet and spare, sounding beautiful and crystal clear in the summer air at the Pritzker Pavilion, making the concert feel like an intimate gathering despite the epic proportions of the venue.
abigailwashburn.com

Abigail Washburn
Abigail Washburn

Abigail Washburn
Abigail Washburn

Abigail Washburn
Abigail Washburn

Abigail Washburn
Abigail Washburn

Pitchfork Music Festival 2012

Ty Segall
Ty Segall

I went into the 2012 Pitchfork Music Festival with skepticism. Vampire Weekend as a headliner? Meh. Not my cup of tea. The same goes for several of the other big names Pitchfork booked for its annual festival, including Beach House and Sleigh Bells, to name just a couple. And yet, as always, Pitchfork also included some top-notch bands — and a bunch of artists I was largely unfamiliar with.

Purity Ring
Purity Ring

My duties included taking photos for WBEZ’s website, and I wasn’t always able to stick around for full sets. Some of my regrets include not seeing more of Purity Ring, a Canadian duo that delivered a highly intriguing show of Björkeseque art rock on Friday night — and missing The Men altogether on Sunday. But it’s impossible to see and hear everything. Other bands I want to hear more from after catching a few songs: Milk Music, Unknown Mortal Orchestra and Youth Lagoon.

I’ll leave the hip-hop and electronic dance music reviews to others, though I did enjoy the energy I felt as I was standing in the photo pit in front of the fans waving their arms for Flying Lotus, AraabMuzik and The Field. Some of the laptop artists, including Clam Casino, left a lot to be desired from a photographer’s viewpoint. Just how many different shots can you take of a guy pressing a space bar as he stares blankly at a computer screen? Even if I weren’t taking pictures, I’d feel bored watching these performers.

Godspeed You! Black Emperor
Godspeed You! Black Emperor

Some of the musical acts seemed too subtle for the setting, but let’s give credit to the devoted fans and adventurous listeners who gathered in front of the stages for artists such as Tim Hecker and Godspeed You! Black Emperor, putting their brains to work as they took in the musical undulations washing over them. GY!BE is fierce and fabulous, and their Saturday-night closing set was fantastic in many ways, but it felt strange coming right after Hot Chip’s peppy dance pop. The Pitchfork programmers seem to revel in these jarring juxtapositions. GY!BE’s epic instrumental compositions slowly built to frantic climaxes as the band’s trademark film projections cast an atmosphere of urban decay in the midst of the dimming park.

Feist played a decent if not exactly rousing headline set on Friday night, boosted by the presence of the excellent female trio Mountain Man on backup vocals. Sunday’s festival-closing show by Vampire Weekend drew an almost frenzied response from a throng of young fans, but the band’s music was as bland as ever.

As for the other hyped bands I was skeptical about: Sleigh Bells was highly entertaining to watch, whipping up an enthusiastic response from the audience, but the band failed to break out of its noisy-riff formula, boring me when I wasn’t up-close and watching singer Alexis Krauss and her hair flying around the stage. On the other hand, Beach House was as stiff as ever, barely moving as the duo intoned its pretty but ultimately soporific pop creations. Cloud Nothings played with impressive energy and the band’s fans loved it, but I still found the group’s songs a little lacking.

Willis Earl Beal
Willis Earl Beal

So what was great? Willis Earl Beal’s booming voice and his reel-to-reel recorder. The ladies of Wild Flag holding their guitars aloft as they tore through Television’s “See No Evil” and their own excellent rock songs. The perfectly pretty retro girl pop music of Cults. The mellowness of Real Estate, which felt right on a sunny afternoon. The mind-bending harmonies and pretzel-twisty guitar lines of Dirty Projectors. Outer Minds, Thee Oh Sees and Ty Segall digging hard into their ’60s Nuggets-style garage rock. Fans moshing and crowd-surfing to bands including Thee Oh Sees and Segall.

In fact, Segall himself surfed almost all the way across his audience and back to the stage. Alas, I failed to capture this moment on my camera — not realizing until later that Segall was that dude who seemed to be setting an Olympic record for longest time aloft. Here’s a video from Sei Jin Lee:

Now, that’s what an outdoor music festival is supposed to be all about.

See my photos from the 2012 Pitchfork Music Festival: Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3

Wild Flag
Wild Flag

Cults
Cults

Dirty Projectors
Dirty Projectors

Pitchfork: Day 3 photos

My photos from Day 3 of the 2012 Pitchfork Music Festival. (Check out more of my photos on the WBEZ website.)

Read my review of the 2012 Pitchfork Music Festival.
See my photos from Day 1 and Day 2

Dirty Beaches
Dirty Beaches

Dirty Beaches
Dirty Beaches

A Lull
A Lull

A Lull
A Lull

Unknown Mortal Orchestra
Unknown Mortal Orchestra

Unknown Mortal Orchestra
Unknown Mortal Orchestra

Unknown Mortal Orchestra
Unknown Mortal Orchestra

Milk Music
Milk Music

Milk Music
Milk Music

Milk Music
Milk Music

Iceage
Iceage

Iceage
Iceage

Thee Oh Sees
Thee Oh Sees

Thee Oh Sees
Thee Oh Sees

Thee Oh Sees
Thee Oh Sees

Thee Oh Sees
Thee Oh Sees

Thee Oh Sees
Thee Oh Sees

Ty Segall
Ty Segall

Ty Segall Band
Ty Segall Band

Ty Segall
Ty Segall

Ty Segall
Ty Segall

Ty Segall
Ty Segall

Ty Segall Band
Ty Segall Band

Crowd surfing during Ty Segall
Crowd surfing during Ty Segall

Crowd surfing during Ty Segall
Crowd surfing during Ty Segall

Real Estate
Real Estate

Real Estate
Real Estate

Real Estate
Real Estate

Chavez
Chavez

Chavez
Chavez

Chavez
Chavez

Chavez
Chavez

AraabMuzik
AraabMuzik

Beach House
Beach House

Beach House
Beach House

Beach House
Beach House

The Field
The Field

The Field
The Field

The Field
The Field

Vampire Weekend
Vampire Weekend

Vampire Weekend
Vampire Weekend

Vampire Weekend
Vampire Weekend

Pitchfork: Day 2 photos

My photos from Day 2 of the 2012 Pitchfork Music Festival. (Check out more of my photos on the WBEZ website.)

Read my review of the 2012 Pitchfork Music Festival.
See my photos from Day 1 and Day 3.

The Psychic Paramount
The Psychic Paramount

The Atlas Moth
The Atlas Moth

The Atlas Moth
The Atlas Moth

Cloud Nothings
Cloud Nothings

Cloud Nothings
Cloud Nothings

Cloud Nothings
Cloud Nothings

Cloud Nothings
Cloud Nothings

Atlas Sound
Atlas Sound

Atlas Sound
Atlas Sound

Liturgy
Liturgy

Cults
Cults

Cults
Cults

Cults
Cults

Cults
Cults

Youth Lagoon
Youth Lagoon

Youth Lagoon
Youth Lagoon

Flying Lotus
Flying Lotus

Wild Flag
Wild Flag

Wild Flag
Wild Flag

Wild Flag
Wild Flag

Wild Flag
Wild Flag

Wild Flag
Wild Flag

Wild Flag
Wild Flag

Wild Flag
Wild Flag

Wild Flag
Wild Flag

Wild Flag
Wild Flag

Wild Flag
Wild Flag

Wild Flag
Wild Flag

Wild Flag
Wild Flag

Sleigh Bells
Sleigh Bells

Sleigh Bells
Sleigh Bells

Sleigh Bells
Sleigh Bells

Sleigh Bells
Sleigh Bells

Sleigh Bells
Sleigh Bells

Sleigh Bells
Sleigh Bells

Sleigh Bells
Sleigh Bells

Sleigh Bells
Sleigh Bells

Hot Chip
Hot Chip

Hot Chip
Hot Chip

Hot Chip
Hot Chip

Danny Brown
Danny Brown

Godspeed You! Black Emperor
Godspeed You! Black Emperor

Godspeed You! Black Emperor
Godspeed You! Black Emperor

Godspeed You! Black Emperor
Godspeed You! Black Emperor

Godspeed You! Black Emperor
Godspeed You! Black Emperor

Godspeed You! Black Emperor
Godspeed You! Black Emperor

Pitchfork: Day 1 photos

My photos from the first day of the 2012 Pitchfork Music Festival. (Check out more of my photos on the WBEZ website.)

Read my review of the 2012 Pitchfork Music Festival.
See my photos from Day 2 and Day 3.

Outer Minds
Outer Minds

Outer Minds
Outer Minds

Outer Minds
Outer Minds

Outer Minds
Outer Minds

Outer Minds
Outer Minds

Lower Dens
Lower Dens

Lower Dens
Lower Dens

Lower Dens
Lower Dens

Willis Earl Beal
Willis Earl Beal

Willis Earl Beal
Willis Earl Beal

Willis Earl Beal
Willis Earl Beal

Willis Earl Beal
Willis Earl Beal

Willis Earl Beal
Willis Earl Beal

Willis Earl Beal
Willis Earl Beal

Tim Hecker
Tim Hecker

Japandroids
Japandroids

Japandroids
Japandroids

Japandroids
Japandroids

Japandroids
Japandroids

Japandroids audience
Japandroids audience

Dirty Projectors
Dirty Projectors

Dirty Projectors
Dirty Projectors

Dirty Projectors
Dirty Projectors

Dirty Projectors
Dirty Projectors

Clams Casino
Clams Casino

Feist
Feist

Feist
Feist

Feist
Feist

Purity Ring
Purity Ring

Purity Ring
Purity Ring

Purity Ring
Purity Ring

Purity Ring
Purity Ring

Purity Ring
Purity Ring

The Sadies at Schubas

The Sadies

Saturday night (July 7) at Schubas was the umpteenth time I’ve seen the Sadies, but they’re a band that deserves to be seen umpteen times. I would have seen them yet again on Monday at the Pritzker Pavilion, too, but I opted instead for the wonderful combo of Robbie Fulks and Sally Timms at the Hideout.

After leaving West Fest and taking the bus to Schubas, I walked in just in time for the glorious opening riff of “Memphis, Egypt,” the classic Mekons song — which was the opening number for the opening act, Jon Langford and His Sadies. (Langford joked about the Sadies as if they were a separate band coming up later in the show.) The Sadies play that Mekons music fiercely … and then, when it was time for the main act, they returned to the stage and impressed me all over again with their telepathic guitar playing. It all culminated with another great medley of covers during the encore. I’m hard-pressed to name all the songs that crammed into this 10-minute-plus epic, but it was all bluesy ’60s garage rock, including the Count Five’s “Psychotic Reaction” and the Belfast Gypsies’ “People, Let’s Freak Out,” among others.



The Sadies
The Sadies
The Sadies
The Sadies
The Sadies
The Sadies
The Sadies

Black Lips and Man or Astroman? at West Fest

Last Saturday (July7) at West Fest, Man or Astroman? donned space suits and shiny orange outfits, reeled off one blazing surf rock guitar riff after another, and then set a Theremin on fire. It was a blast.

And then came the evening’s headliners, the Black Lips, who stomped their way through one Nuggets-style garage rock tune after another, many of them outfitted with catchy choruses, which had the crowd singing along to some of the familiar songs. The people near the stage did more than sing along — they moshed and pumped their fists into the air, and a few of them managed to get on top of their fellow audience members for some crowd-surfing. Many rolls of toilet paper were tossed back and forth.

Man or Astroman
Man or Astroman?













The Black Lips
The Black Lips

The Black Lips
The Black Lips
The Black Lips

The Black Lips

From Roger Waters to Colin Stetson

Time to catch up on some concerts I’ve seen lately. Back on July 8, I saw Rogers Water perform Pink Floyd’s The Wall at Wrigley Field, a spectacle with plenty of bombast and muddled metaphors, and yet some weirdly small moments — if that’s possible — featuring that one guy, Waters, standing way down there like an ant, dwarfed by the iconic wall behind him, and singing his old songs for 40,000 fans. Those were the times with at least a tiny touch of spontaneity sneaked its way into the highly rehearsed and plotted-out proceedings. I did not bring my camera and I sat way up in a nose-bleed section. I attempted to take a few photos with my cellphone, seen below.

Rogers Waters at Wrigley Field
Rogers Waters at Wrigley Field (before the concert)

Rogers Waters at Wrigley Field
Rogers Waters at Wrigley Field

The following night, June 9, was quite a change of scenery. From Wrigley Field to the Hideout, where alt-country singer-songwriter Megan Reilly was playing achingly beautiful songs from her great new album, The Well, backed by an exceptional band: guitarist James Mastro, bassist Tony Maimone (of Pere Ubu fame) and drummer Steve Goulding (of Mekons fame). The room wasn’t as full as it should’ve been for this show, but in its own way, it was more spectacular than seeing Roger Waters at Wrigley Field. (I had every intention of taking photos at this concert, until I made the boneheaded error of grabbing the wrong camera … the one with a dead battery in it.)

On June 15, The Figgs played a rocking set of power pop at Ultra Lounge — including a nifty cover of the Who’s “Happy Jack.” It was another show that deserved a bigger crowd, oddly coming one night after the Figgs opened for Smashing Pumpkins at Metro.

The Figgs
The Figgs

The Figgs
The Figgs

The Figgs
The Figgs

The Figgs
The Figgs

The Figgs
The Figgs

The Figgs
The Figgs

The Figgs
The Figgs

The Figgs
The Figgs

The Figgs had three opening bands — the Lustkillers, the Cry and the Van Buren Boys — in an evening filled with plenty of power pop and hair gel.

The Van Buren Boys
The Van Buren Boys

The Cry
The Cry

The Lustkillers
The Lustkillers

On June 16, Baby Dee played at the Old Town School of Folk Music’s Szold Hall, in the school’s new building across Lincoln Avenue from its main center. With a small crowd sitting silently in the room, it felt a bit like a classical music recital, except for the fact that the irrepressibly odd and ribald Baby Dee was saying things such as: “Are there any crack whores here tonight?” Her “dirges,” as she calls them, came across with nuance in the acoustically perfect room.

June 17 at the Taste of Randolph Street, David Vandervelde played the best set I’ve seen him do so far, with a fantastic band that featured bassist Ben Clarke and guitarist Emmett Kelly, a.k.a. Bonnie “Prince” Billy sideman the Cairo Gang. During a couple of long, Crazy Horse-style jams, Vandervelde and Kelly were soloing on top of each other, to riveting effect. Let’s hope they keep working together and that Vandervelde gets a new album out sometime soon. Vandervelde played a couple of Jay Bennett covers during his surprisingly long (hour-plus) set, opening with the mordantly humorous “Beer.”

David Vandervelde
David Vandervelde

David Vandervelde
David Vandervelde

David Vandervelde
David Vandervelde

David Vandervelde
David Vandervelde

Emmett Kelly and Ben Clarke
Emmett Kelly and Ben Clarke

After an opening act of some fire-juggling circus folk…

Pyrotechniq
Pyrotechniq

Pyrotechniq
Pyrotechniq

The Hold Steady closed out Taste of Randolph with a set that rocked pretty hard from beginning to end — quite a change from frontman Craig Finn’s recent solo performance at Do Division. Now that keyboardist Franz Nicolay is no longer in the band, the sound is all guitars. A bit of keyboard would have helped for variety’s sake, but the band sounded tight, including a couple of new songs in its set.

The Hold Steady
The Hold Steady

The Hold Steady
The Hold Steady

The Hold Steady
The Hold Steady

The Hold Steady
The Hold Steady

The Hold Steady
The Hold Steady

The Hold Steady
The Hold Steady

The Hold Steady
The Hold Steady

The Hold Steady
The Hold Steady

The Hold Steady
The Hold Steady

The Hold Steady
The Hold Steady

The Hold Steady
The Hold Steady

Thursday (June 21), Late Bar hosted a cool set by Astrobrite, a shoegaze band that started in the ’90s and recently had its first album reissued by Chicago’s BLVD label. BLVD impresario Melissa Geils joined the band on keyboards at this gig, which was delightfully noisy.

Astrobrite
Astrobrite

Astrobrite
Astrobrite

Astrobrite
Astrobrite

Astrobrite
Astrobrite

Astrobrite
Astrobrite

Astrobrite
Astrobrite

The opening act, Cinchel (a.k.a. my friend Jason Shanley), played noise of a different kind, the droning and shimmering sort. Cinchel has a dreamy new record out called Stereo Stasischeck it out on bandcamp.

Cinchel
Cinchel

Cinchel
Cinchel

On Friday (June 22), I caught one set by Jason Adasiewicz and his new band Sun Rooms — a trio that also includes Mike Reed on drums and Matt McBridge on bass — at the Green Mill. Adasiewicz assaulted his vibraphone with alarming force at times, but still managed to coax lovely sounds out of it.

After that stop at the Green Mill, it was over to the Logan Square bar Township, where I saw an exhilarating set by Treasure Fleet, a Chicago band showing some strong similarities to the great Bee Thousand-era tunes of Guided By Voices, as well as 1960s psychedelia and power pop.

Treasure Fleet
Treasure Fleet

Treasure Fleet
Treasure Fleet

Treasure Fleet
Treasure Fleet

Treasure Fleet
Treasure Fleet

Treasure Fleet
Treasure Fleet

Treasure Fleet
Treasure Fleet

Finally, on Saturday (June 23), I arrived at Schubas just in time to see a stunning performance by saxophonist Colin Stetson. From what I hear, I missed great opening sets by Chicago percussionist Frank Rosaly and Arcade Fire violinist Sarah Neufeld. Interestingly, each of the three acts at Schubas last night played alone. Stetson sounded more like a whole band, however. Playing an immense bass sax on most songs and occasionally switching over to an alto, Stetson created undulating patterns of notes reminiscent of minimalist classical music, and then he somehow managed to add internal melodies and tunes on top of all that, which sounded at times more like human singing than woodwind. The crowd watched and listened in rapt silence, and Stetson worked up a good sweat with the sheer exertion of his powerful and impressive music.

Colin Stetson
Colin Stetson

Colin Stetson
Colin Stetson

Colin Stetson
Colin Stetson

Colin Stetson
Colin Stetson

Colin Stetson
Colin Stetson

Colin Stetson
Colin Stetson

Colin Stetson
Colin Stetson

Colin Stetson
Colin Stetson

The Eternals at Millennium Park

The Eternals are one of the hardest Chicago bands to pin down, as they slip from one musical form into another. In recent times, they’ve been just a duo (Damon Locks and Wayne Montana) playing funky, jazzy, experimental rock. But for their concert last week (June 12) at Millennium Park’s Jay Pritzker Pavilion, the Eternals expanded to a massive, 10-musician lineup. And the band played nothing other than one long suite of new music called “Espiritu Zombi.” The new and perhaps temporary members of the Eternals for this occasion included 1900s vocalist Jeanine O’Toole, bassist Matt Lux, cellist Tomeka Reid and the always-animated vibraphonist Jason Adasiewicz.

Those vibes gave this zombie music a flavor that was reminiscent of another Chicago outfit, Exploding Star Orchestra. Not coincidentally, Locks has performed with that ensemble in the past. And the extra vocalists added new levels of beauty and complexity previously unheard in the strange world of the Eternals. The suite was an audacious and ambitious composition, which deserved the spotlight it received in this prominent venue. Decked out in psychedelic attire, Locks danced with elbow-jutting moves, a dapper weirdo reveling in his moment on the city’s big stage.

Eternals
Eternals
Eternals
Eternals
Eternals
Eternals
Eternals
Eternals
Eternals
Eternals
Eternals
Eternals

Royal Headache, OBN III’s and Football at the Burlington

Royal Headache
Royal Headache

Last Thursday (June 7) was my first visit to the music room that Logan Square’s Burlington bar added a while ago. It’s small room with mostly unadorned brick walls. It feels a bit like an actual garage. Perfect for some loud punk rock played by musicians in sweat-drenched T-shirts.

And that’s just what I saw — a great triple bill, including Chicago’s own Football, the ungainly named OBN III’s from Austin, Texas, and Royal Headache from Australia. As I was taking photographs, I think I nearly got kicked in the head by the guys in Football. (No offense taken.) Then the OBN III’s frontman reached out to touch my head. (I wasn’t the only audience member he stared at with alarming intensity as the band slammed out some rough and rugged riffs.) Royal Headache’s frontman worked out his nervous energy by pacing back and forth across the stage, while the bassist stood with his back to the crowd. The members of the band looked oddly disconnected from one another, but the loud, pounding songs connected.

Football
Football

Football
Football

Football
Football

Football
Football

OBN III's
OBN III's

OBN III's
OBN III's

OBN III's
OBN III's

OBN III's
OBN III's

OBN III's
OBN III's

OBN III's
OBN III's

OBN III's
OBN III's

OBN III's
OBN III's

Royal Headache
Royal Headache

Royal Headache
Royal Headache

Royal Headache
Royal Headache

Royal Headache
Royal Headache

Jonathan Richman at the Pritzker Pavilion

Jonathan Richman

“It’s not a concert,” Jonathan Richman told the audience Monday night (June 4) at the Jay Pritzker Pavilion in Chicago’s Millennium Park. “It’s supposed to be more like a party. That’s why I sang all the songs with the word ‘party.'” And indeed, Richman’s performance — like any Richman performance — didn’t feel like a normal concert. Not exactly a party, either. Not a party hosted by a normal person, anyway. Richman doesn’t seem like a normal person, and that’s much of the reason why it’s so entertaining and funny and touching to watch him play his music.

Richman followed the same format he’s used in his concerts for many years now, playing an unamplified classical guitar into a microphone as he sings, accompanied by just one musician, drummer Tommy Larkins, who plays a plot with brushes as he keeps a minimally invasive beat going underneath Richman’s loopy tunes. Richman frequently sets his guitar down or holds it to the side as he sings or interjects jokes and wry commentary into the middle of his songs. And whenever the impulse strikes, Richman stops everything else to dance and shake some percussion. As one of these dancing interludes went on for a few minutes, Richman remarked, “We can only get away with this for so long. Pretty soon we’ll have to switch to another song.” And so he did.

Richman sang in Italian, French, Hebrew and Spanish and maybe some other languages, too, helpfully offering English translations that only heightened the sense of absurdity. He sang tributes to Vermeer and Keith Richards. He reminisced about dancing in the lesbian bar and got the crowd to sing along about opening the door to Bohemia. A big, goofy grin stretched across his face. He seemed to be smiling at the reaction of the crowd. Then again, I have the feeling Richman would have been smiling no matter what.

Jonathan Richman
Jonathan Richman
Jonathan Richman
Jonathan Richman
Jonathan Richman
Jonathan Richman
Jonathan Richman
Jonathan Richman
Jonathan Richman
Jonathan Richman
Jonathan Richman

Tommy Larkins
Tommy Larkins

In a somewhat unusual pairing, the opening act for Richman was jazz guitarist Bobby Broom and his Deep Blue Organ Trio, who made some groovy music, including a cover of the Doors’ “Light My Fire.” Not exactly what you’d expect before seeing Jonathan Richman, but since Richman’s so uncategorizable, it made about as much sense as anything would.

Bobby Broom
Bobby Broom

Chris Foreman
Chris Foreman of the Deep Blue Organ Trio

Greg Rockingham
Greg Rockingham of the Deep Blue Organ Trio

Do Division Fest: Wrap-up + Sunday photos

This past weekend’s Do Division Festival featured a strong schedule of local and touring bands. Standout performers from Chicago included Mannequin Men and Pinebender, who pummeled away at their post-punk songs. Craig Finn of the Hold Steady played a rare solo acoustic show. He’s better with a band backing him up, but the low-key format put the focus on his smart narrative lyrics. The Besnard Lakes soared with majestic guitar solos and keening falsetto vocals. And the Antlers wove intricate musical pieces together into melancholic art rock, playing a fine festival-closing set that would have been even better if they’d played more from their 2009 album Hospice.

But no one else at the festival could match the sheer spectacle of Le Butcherettes, who played Saturday night. The band’s front woman, Teresa Suaréz aka Teri Gender Bender, was not wearing the bloody butcher’s apron she donned at some previous concerts; for this outing she wore a tight dress that struggled all night to conceal her panties. Suaréz clearly revels in flaunting her sex appeal when she’s onstage, but she also sings, screams, rolls her eyes, pounds her keyboard and shakes her hair with such abandon that it feels more like some sort of punk performance art than a striptease act. In between songs, she often put her hands together and bowed, thanking the audience in a polite gesture that contorted sharply with her lack of inhibition during the songs, which are reminiscent at times of PJ Harvey during her early years. The climax on Saturday came when she crouched down behind her keyboard, then rose up to smash the instrument on the stage, stomping on it. Maybe it’s all an act, but the frenzy was visceral.

I posted photos of Le Butcherettes in a previous blog post, and another one is below. My friend Seijin Lee captured much of the performance on video, including this clip, which includes the moment of keyboard smashing around the 5:00 mark:

Le Butcherettes
Le Butcherettes

Pinebender
Pinebender

Pinebender
Pinebender

Pinebender
Pinebender

Pinebender
Pinebender

Pinebender
Pinebender

Pinebender
Pinebender

The Antlers
The Antlers

The Antlers
The Antlers

The Antlers
The Antlers

The Antlers
The Antlers

The Antlers
The Antlers

Do Division Fest: Saturday Photos

Photos from the Do Division Festival on Saturday, June 2.

Le Butcherettes

Le Butcherettes
Le Butcherettes

Le Butcherettes
Le Butcherettes

Le Butcherettes
Le Butcherettes

Le Butcherettes
Le Butcherettes

Le Butcherettes
Le Butcherettes

Le Butcherettes
Le Butcherettes

Le Butcherettes
Le Butcherettes

Le Butcherettes
Le Butcherettes

Le Butcherettes
Le Butcherettes

Le Butcherettes
Le Butcherettes

Le Butcherettes
Le Butcherettes

Le Butcherettes
Le Butcherettes

The Besnard Lakes
The Besnard Lakes

The Besnard Lakes
The Besnard Lakes

The Besnard Lakes
The Besnard Lakes

The Besnard Lakes
The Besnard Lakes

The Besnard Lakes
The Besnard Lakes

The Besnard Lakes
The Besnard Lakes

The Besnard Lakes
The Besnard Lakes

Craig Finn
Craig Finn

Craig Finn
Craig Finn

Mannequin Men
Mannequin Men

Mannequin Men
Mannequin Men

Mannequin Men
Mannequin Men

Mannequin Men
Mannequin Men

Mannequin Men
Mannequin Men

Magic Milk
Magic Milk

Magic Milk
Magic Milk

Patrick Watson at Lincoln Hall

Patrick Watson called his new record Adventures in Your Own Backyard because he recorded it almost entirely inside his apartment in Montreal. Nothing about it is lo-fi, however — it’s a beautiful recording of some of the most beautiful music yet from this excellent Canadian singer-songwriter, who makes delicate pop, rock and folk music with the sort of sophistication and subtle touches heard more often in chamber music or old pop standards. He’s in the same musical realm as Andrew Bird, Rufus Wainwright and the late Jeff Buckley.

And on Friday, Watson and his nimble band brought their musical adventures to Chicago’s Lincoln Hall, playing outstanding new songs such as “Lighthouse” and “Words in the Fire” along with fan favorites such as “Beijing” and “The Great Escape” from previous Watson albums. Watson spent most of the show sitting at the piano, although sitting hardly seems like the right word to describe what he was doing. While he doesn’t dance on his instrument as Jerry Lee Lewis does, Watson did make the piano seem like a living partner in the act of music-making as he coaxed lively but precise runs of notes out of it. The audience clearly included a good number of devoted Watson fans, who sang the backup harmonies impressively and shouted out requests. At one point, Watson apologized for not being able to show a movie he usually screens during one of his songs. “You can imagine the move that’s supposed to happen now,” he remarked. “It’s an imagination game tonight.” And indeed, his music did inspire all sorts of pictures in the mind.
adventuresinyourownbackyard.com

Patrick Watson
Patrick Watson
Patrick Watson band
Patrick Watson
Patrick Watson
Patrick Watson
Patrick Watson
Patrick Watson
Patrick Watson band
Patrick Watson
Patrick Watson
Patrick Watson

Kelly Hogan at the Pritzker Pavilion

Millennium Park’s Jay Pritzker Pavilion opened its season of free concerts on Memorial Day (May 28) with a stellar selection: Kelly Hogan, who has an outstanding new record, I Like to Keep Myself in Pain, coming out any day now. I had the privilege of interviewing Hogan for the A.V. Club. Hogan’s all-star studio band isn’t touring with her, but she put together another crack outfit of musicians to play her new songs: Jim Elkington on guitar, Casey McDonough on bass and Joe Camarillo on drums — plus (for this gig anyway) Scott Ligon on organ and “piano situation” and Nora O’Connor on harmony vocals and guitar. But of course, Hogan herself was the center of attention, as she greeted the crowd with her irreverent banter and wowed us with her voice, whether she was belting out notes with deep strength or cooing more delicate tones.

Hogan and her band played every song from the new record, not straying too far from the studio versions but varying up the delivery and arrangements like a jazz combo comfortable with its ability to make changes on the spot. The encore began with a lovely performance of the Magnetic Fields song “Papa Was a Rodeo,” which Hogan recorded back in 2000. Ligon gently plucked Elkington’s nylon-string guitar as Hogan’s only accompaniment — until O’Connor returned to the stage midsong and took over the lead vocals on the final verse, making the tune into an endearing duet.












Monday’s opening act was Local H singer-guitarist Scott Lucas’ other band, Scott Lucas & the Married Men, who also have a new record coming out June 5, Blood Half Moon. Lucas and his band delivered a pretty fierce performance, particularly on the closing song — which also closes the new record — a dark, heavy incantation, the traditional song “There Ain’t No Grave (Gonna Hold My Body Down).” When the band stopped and Lucas kept chanting the chorus a few more times, he looked slightly possessed.


Blackout Fest 2012

Roky Erickson

Chicago’s terrific HoZac Records brought its annual Blackout Fest to the Empty Bottle this past weekend, May 18-20, for three long nights filled with lots and lots of rock music — mostly garage rock, with a bit of punk, power pop and classic ’60s psychedelic music thrown in for good measure. Many, but not all, of the bands are on the HoZac label, and nearly all of them shared a similar spirit of banging out scrappy yet tuneful songs with enthusiasm.

This was the sort of festival where an audience member would boo (jokingly, I think) at the very sight of an acoustic guitar. That was during Friday’s set by Cozy, but haters of mellow music had nothing to worry about — the band strummed a few acoustic chords before jumping back into the rock. And while some of the musicians swaggered and flailed with punk attitude, many of them were more nonchalant in their stage manner. The Ketamines set the tone by dryly announcing: “We’re going to play 12 songs and then we’re going to stop.”

The festival’s two biggest names were Saturday headliners Redd Kross and Sunday’s closing act, Roky Erickson. Redd Kross is getting ready to release its first album in 15 years, Researching the Blues, which will come out Aug. 7 on Merge Records. Judging from the title song (download it here), Redd Kross’s new music sounds much like its old — power pop with a hard edge. Saturday’s set started off with a complete performance of the band’s 1981 album Born Innocent, which provided some raucous fun — although personally, I would have preferred to hear a full run-through of Redd Kross’ 1993 record Phaseshifter. The band did play some songs from that album later in its set, as well as a cover of the Runaways’ “Cherry Bomb.”

Erickson, the legendary former leader of the 13th Floor Elevators, has been back on the concert circuit for a few years now, recovering from a long absence due to legal problems and mental illness. Erickson seemed to be in a good place Sunday night, smiling as he sang and played guitar, backed by a strong and hard-rocking band. The audience in the sold-out venue sang along to many choruses and was rewarded at the end with the 13th Floor Elevators classic, “You’re Gonna Miss Me.”

There were many other fine performances throughout the weekend. My favorites included Barreracudas, who played head-bopping pop-punk; Far-Out Fangtooth, who delved more into dark psych sounds reminiscent of the Black Angels; Fungi Girls, who sound like the house band at some mysterious road house circa 1966; and Bare Mutants, who grooved to a Velvet Underground-style beat.

Cozy

Plateaus

Video

Video

Spiderfever

Davila 666

Barreracudas

Barreracudas

Ketamines

Ketamines

Ketamines

Pleasure Leftists

Pleasure Leftists

Pleasure Leftists

Pleasure Leftists

Teledrome

Teledrome

Fungi Girls

Fungi Girls

Fungi Girls

Fungi Girls

Homostupids

Gentleman Jesse

Gentleman Jesse

Redd Kross

Redd Kross

Redd Kross

Redd Kross

Medication

Bare Mutants

Bare Mutants

Estrogen Highs

Human Eye

Roky Erickson

Mahogany at Subterranean

The band called Mahogany has been around since 1995, going through a few different configurations and styles over that time. Their music has been labeled dream pop and shoegaze. They’ve made electronic and orchestral rock. Their website says they’re “an electric music-based multidisciplinary media ensemble” with “a combination of vocals, cello, massed guitars, pianos, melodicas, sequencers, synthesizers, samplers, tape, percussion, and other instruments.” But when Mahogany played Saturday night (May 5) at Subterranean, that’s not actually what the band was like at all. Mahogany was more in full-on-rock mode, making a wall of lovely noise with guitar strings instead of all that other stuff. And that probably offers a good hint at what Mahogany’s next record is going to sound like … but you never know.














Waco Brothers + Paul Burch

During their first decade together (1995-2005), the Waco Brothers cranked out seven studio albums. But then, seven years went by without a new record of original Wacos material. That’s not the say the band disappeared. They’ve kept on playing lots of gigs (in Chicago, anyway). Jon Langford and other members of the band have continued making music under other guises. But no new Wacos songs. Until now.

The new record on the Bloodshot label is not just by the Waco Brothers — it’s by the Waco Brothers and Paul Burch. And the Wacos aren’t merely serving as the backup band for Paul Burch, an alt-country crooner. It’s more like Burch has been recruited as an auxiliary Waco, singing and writing most but not all of the new songs. And a fine bunch of new songs it is, kicking off with the title track, “Great Chicago Fire,” co-written by Burch and Langford. The song’s opening line turns a famous quote by Johnny Rotten — “Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?” — into a memorable melodic hook.

The Wacos and Burch celebrated their new album with a gig Thursday (April 26) at FitzGerald’s in Berwyn, and the new songs survived the ultimate test, fitting right in with the old tunes that are longtime audience favorites. Burch fit right in, too, standing in the middle of that long line of microphone stands. The Wacos already had an abundance of lead singers (Langford, Dean Schlabowske and Tracy Dear, not to mention bassist Alan Doughty, who often jumps into the fray with backup vocals). But why not add another? The Wacos’ attitude seems to be, “the more, the merrier.”











The Chicago bluegrass band Tanglewood opened for the Waco Brothers with a set highlighted by their cool cover of the Undertones’ “Teenage Kicks.” Perhaps not coincidentally, it’s a song that Paul Burch covered back in 2007, when he opened for the Mekons at the Mutiny.


Terry Malts at the Empty Bottle

The San Francisco band Terry Malts played a tight set of melodic garage/punk rock April 24 at the Empty Bottle, capping off an evening of cool music that also featured Chicago’s Unicycle Loves You (who sparked an onstage dance party) and the scrappy guitar-and-drums duo Soft Jolts.

Terry Malts

Terry Malts

Terry Malts

Terry Malts

Terry Malts

Terry Malts

Terry Malts

Terry Malts

Terry Malts

Unicycle Loves You

Unicycle Loves You

Unicycle Loves You

Soft Jolts

Soft Jolts

Willis Earl Beal at the Hideout

The emergence of Willis Earl Beal is one of the most fascinating Chicago music stories of the past year. A year ago, he was “super unknown,” as the headline of a terrific Chicago Reader story by Leor Galil put it. Beal was essentially an outsider artist, making lo-fi tapes of his music, never performing in public, without any myspace page or anything like that, who was posting strange flyers about himself, which led to his discovery by Found magazine and the Reader. Now, somehow, Beal landed a deal with a prestigious record label, XL, which has just released an album of his home recordings, Acousmastic Sorcery.

Beal played last night at the Hideout. Although he recently opened for SBTRKT at the House of Blues, this was apparently his first headlining gig in Chicago. As he took the stage in a leather jacket and shades, he remarked, “Since you all came to see me, we’re going to do this my way.” Doing it his way included opening the show with a reading of the Charles Bukowski poem “The Harder You Try.” Then came an a cappella song, followed by several songs featuring Beal singing to tracks he’d records — on a reel-to-reel tape machine, of all things.

He played one song on guitar, briefly struggling with an out-of-tune acoustic and then playing an electric guitar he was unfamiliar with. His guitar playing was rudimentary, off-kilter and almost arhythmic, but his singing was soulful and impassioned. For another song, he sat down at the piano, playing simple notes as he sang. Both of these songs made you wonder what Beal would sound like with professional musicians backing him. Would it enhance his music, or detract from its quirky appeal? As things stand now, Beal is an unusual songwriter and performer who doesn’t easily fit into any category. There are touches of Tom Waits and Screaming Jay Hawkins in what he does. He showed that he’s capable of great blues and soul vocals, but his reel-to-reel accompaniment pushed the songs into stranger, more surreal territory.

Beal went back to a cappella for the final song of the night, “Same Old Tears” — a powerful performance that featured the audience clapping the beat. I videotaped that song and Beal’s comments afterward:

After the song ended, Beal made it clear he’s not that happy with his debut record. “It’s not a reflection of what you just saw on the stage,” he said. “It’s some shit I did when, I just like, I didn’t know what I was doing. It’s like walking in on somebody on the toilet. So, like, buy it, you know, to fill my pockets, but it’s not what you just saw. Also, I’m not a fucking musician. I am a motivational speaker, with harmonious inclinations.” Beal’s being too harsh about his record. He may not have known what he was doing, but that could explain part of what makes Beal so magical.













The opening act last night provided a nice bonus: Quarter Mile Thunder, a new band led by Ben Clarke, played haunting, quiet folk rock with a moody, atmospheric mix of acoustic guitar, piano and synth. “We’ve got a record done if anybody wants to put it out,” Clarke said, prompting some laughs. “It’s true.” Indeed, you can stream the album, Twist, at http://soundcloud.com/quartermilethunder/sets/twist/s-Xmjx9.

Cowboy Junkies at Space

The Canadian band Cowboy Junkies has never quite matched the attention it got for the 1988 album The Trinity Session, but the group never went away, either, building up a big discography over the years. The latest additions are four albums conceived as a series and released within 18 months — the “Nomad” records, each with a different theme or style, and all collected now in a boxed set, along with a fifth disc of outtakes. That’s a lot of new music for the band to perform — and for listeners to absorb.

When Cowboy Junkies played Saturday night (April 14) at SPACE in Evanston, singer Margo Timmins sounded somewhat apologetic as she explained that the band would devote the entire first set to music from the “Nomad” albums. But she promised the crowd would hear its old favorites during the second set. That turned out to be a winning strategy, giving enough focus to the new music while satisfying everyone’s desire to hear songs such as “Misguided Angel,” “Sweet Jane” and “Murder, Tonight, in the Trailer Park.” The new songs included “Wrong Piano” and “Square Room,” two selections from Demons, a “Nomad” album of songs written by the late, great Vic Chesnutt. The old songs included some audience requests that the band hand’t played in a while, including a little gem from 1992, “A Horse in the Country.”

Margo Timmins’ voice still sounded much as it did when everyone heard it for the first time in that quiet masterpiece The Trinity Session. She often draped one of her arms on the microphone stand in front of her, giving the impression of someone who was just casually hanging out on the stage rather than a performer who was the center of attention. That stance fit perfectly with the conversational tone of her singing: breathy but not whispered, confessional but not melodramatic, beautiful but completely natural.

Her brother Michael Timmins played guitar, including those insistently strummed chords that the Junkies took from inspirations like the Velvet Underground, but didn’t say a word, seeming very much like a modest sideman, despite the fact that he writes almost all of the music and words. Another sibling, drummer Peter Timmins, and bassist Alan Anton anchored the hypnotic grooves, while frequent Junkies collaborator Jeff Bird filled out the sound with percussion, harmonica and mandolin. He played the mandolin more like an electric guitar at many points, playing fiery solos. But for the most part, the band’s sound was smoldering.

http://latentrecordings.com/cowboyjunkies











Disappears at WBEZ

The Chicago band Disappears is sounding better than ever on its third album, Pre Language, with more concise and direct rock songs — not that there was anything wrong with band’s longer krautrock jams and drones on previous records. The presence of Sonic Youth drummer Steve Shelley as a full-fledged member of the Disappears seems to have given the group a new sense of focus, and a few of the songs have the driving force of Sonic Youth at its most song-oriented.

Disappears slammed out several of the great riffs from its new record Thursday evening (April 12) during a mini-concert at the studios of Chicago Public Radio WBEZ. The show was open only to the station’s High Fidelity members… but everyone else will get a chance to see Disappears Friday night at Lincoln Hall.
myspace.com/disappearsmusic
















Outer Minds at the Empty Bottle

The album-release party for Outer Minds on Saturday at the Empty Bottle was more like a party for a whole scene of bands who are apparently pals with Outer Minds. With their electric 12-string guitar riffs, Farfisa organ, stomping beats and flower-children mix of male and female vocals, Outer Minds played melodic psychedelic rock that sounded like it was from another era. Then again, I long ago got used to the idea of previous musical eras co-existing in the present. I overheard someone in the crowd saying he felt like he’d traveled in a time machine — presumably to the 1960s, since that’s what it sounded like. Outer Minds’ self-titled debut LP is available from Southpaw Records.






The opening acts were a blockbuster billing of cool Chicago bands: Summer Girlfriends played fun Girl Group music of the sort you’d expect from their name. Radar Eyes were even fiercer than they were a couple of weeks ago at their own record-release party. And Mannequin Men played one hard-edged brand-new song amid a strong set of their best and catchiest tunes. Taken altogether, it was a great sampler of some of the exciting music happening in Chicago today.

Summer Girlfriends






Radar Eyes



Mannequin Men


Spires That in the Sunset Rise

The Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago has been hosting a cool series of monthly free musical performances in its cafe called Face the Strange, which was a perfect setting last week (March 27) for the ambitious, experimental music of Chicago duo Spires That in the Sunset Rise. The group began 11 years ago as an all-female quintet from Decatur, Illinois, but they’re now just two, athleen Baird and Taralie Peterson.

For their “Face the Strange” show, Spires played an eight-part suite inspired by some writings of Italo Calvino, with cello, flute, looping pedals and processed vocals that resembled those of Laurie Anderson. It was an impressive work overall, with the complexity and gravitas of contemporary classical music, although like many such compositions, it was hard to absorb it all in one listen and arrive at a full feeling for it. Let’s hope it surfaces on future Spire recordings.

Spires finished off their concert with a couple of shorter songs that are more typical of what the group does on its recordings — heavily atmospheric songs that combine rustic acoustic instruments with echo and effects. Spires That in the Sunset Rise has a fine new album, Ancient Patience Wills It Again, coming out April 17, and the whole thing is streaming now at the band’s website, stitsr.com.

One more concert is coming up in the current “Face the Strange” series: Plastic Crimewave Vision Celestial Guitarkestra plays at 6 p.m. April 24.




Radar Eyes and Night Beats

Radar Eyes are another one of the great Chicago bands these days making garage rock on the HoZac record label. The group celebrated the release of its self-titled debut CD on Saturday (March 24) with a show at the Empty Bottle. Radar Eyes’ music has a strong flavor of ’60s rock and psychedelia, with some of the distortion and sneering tone that you’d expect from a garage band as well as chiming Byrds-like guitar riffs and catchy vocal melodies. (Their album oddly closes with a song that sounds more like Joy Division, though.) In concert, Radar Eyes cranked everything up a notch from the studio recordings. Singer guitarist Anthony Cozzi climbed up on the monitors by the end of the show.
myspace.com/radareyeschicago
hozacrecords.com/2011/05/radar-eyes/
soundcloud.com/radar-eyes-chicago







The headline act at the Bottle show was the Night Beats, a Seattle band playing psychedelic garage music not all that far off from what Radar Eyes does. Their specific influence seems to be ’60s Texas psychedelic rock by the likes of the 13th Floor Elevator. Night Beats (who record for another great Chicago label, Trouble in Mind) sounded raunchy and wild, bringing the night to a raucous close.
myspace.com/thenightbeatswilleatyou
troubleinmindrecs.com/bands/nightbeats.html






And not to neglect the first band of the night: Sore Subject. I showed up just as they were finishing their set with a couple of songs that sounded very Ramones-esque.
myspace.com/soresubjects

Andre Williams at the Hideout

Andre Williams has not just one new album, but two — plus an EP. You wouldn’t necessarily have known that from his concert Friday night (March 23) at the Hideout, however. Backed by the Goldstars, the suave-looking and foul-mouthed Williams played a set similar to the shows he has performed over the past couple of years. Like those past shows, this one offered up a lot of good, raunchy fun. The band (including a fine horn section) cranked out solid, old-fashioned rock ‘n’ roll riffs with exuberant energy and without many frills, while Williams intoned his profane stories about sex, vice, potato chips and jailbait in his trademark half-sung, half-spoken gravelly vocals.

Unless I missed something, I don’t think he played many or any songs from his fine new album on Bloodshot, Hoods and Shades, on which producer Don Was gives Williams’ songs an acoustic, bluesy, almost jazzy setting. Williams calls it his “folk album.” The musicians on these Detroit sessions include Matt Smith, Funk Brother Dennis Coffey, Jim White, Greasy Carlisi and Jim Diamond.

Williams also has a new EP called Nightclub out on another Chicago label, Pravda, which captures him playing with his regular touring band, the Goldstars. And although Williams didn’t even mention it during Friday’s show, he has yet another new album coming out May 15 from Yep Roc, Night and Day, featuring Williams backed by one of the world’s best bands, the Sadies, plus cameos by Jon Langford, Sally Timms and others. That one’s a belated release from some sessions Williams recorded in Detroit in 2008, but the lively tunes give no hint as to why they’ve been sitting on the shelf for so long.

That’s a lot of activity from this 75-year-old stalwart of Chicago’s music scene, and Friday night, he showed no signs of slowing down.








The opening act was Jon Langford’s Skull Orchard — yet another one of Langford’s many musical endeavors. Last year, Langford reissued the first Skull Orchard record and played some shows with a full-size Welsh men’s choir, including an appearance at the Hideout Block Party. Friday’s set was a smaller-scale affair, including songs from the first Skull Orchard record as well as 2010’s Old Devils, with solid accompaniment from guitarist Jim Elkington and Langford’s usual cohorts in the Waco Brothers, bassist Alan Doughty and drummer Joe Camarillo. The band even played a song from one of Langford’s other old bands, “Death of the European” by the Three Johns.




A Place to Bury Strangers

Until last week, I’d only seen and heard a few minutes of live performance by A Place to Bury Strangers, back in 2008 at SXSW. It was a brief encounter in an unlikely setting — the convention center’s day stage — but even that blast of shredding guitar music caused me to write: “Man, those guys were LOUD.” They were LOUD once again when they played March 26 at the Empty Bottle — but it’s a beautiful sort of loud, with waves of electric guitar pouring forth. And all of that majestic noise comes out of just three instruments — guitar, bass and drums. An impressive feat. A Place to Bury Strangers, which has a new EP called Onwards To The Wall, cranked its tunes through banks of pedals and amps amid fog, flashing strobes, and darkness pierced by beams of light: a perfect visual accompaniment.








The March 26 show also featured two strong opening acts: Chicago’s Apteka, who sound better and better each time I see them, and The Big Sleep started out the evening with even more shoegazy goodness.

The Big Sleep

The Big Sleep

Apteka

Apteka

Apteka

Super Minotaur at the Empty Bottle

The Empty Bottle has been offering free admission to a lot of shows lately — as long as you RSVP by midnight the night before. It’s a great deal, and it seems to be opening the door for concerts by some fledgling bands. One such Chicago band is Super Minotaur, who headlined March 20 … unfortunately, to a pretty small crowd, in spite of the free admission. Super Minotaur was celebrating the release of its cassette, Dead Dino, and playing fast, ragged punk pop. The trio has a couple of cool songs, “Phantom Brat” and “Trip,” streaming on bandcamp. If Super Minotaur keeps building on the potential of those songs, it should be drawing bigger crowds in the future.


Mac Blackout Band at the Empty Bottle

The typical Chicago rocker isn’t in just one band — he (or she) is in two or three. At least, that’s how it seems if you try to keep track of all the overlapping lineups, especially in the garage rock scene. So it’s no big surprise that Mac Blackout, the lead singer of Mickey (who put out one of my favorite records of last year, Rock ‘n Roll Dreamer), has a separate band called, simply enough, Mac Blackout Band. If you like Mickey’s scrappy, glammy rock as much as I do, Mac Blackout Band is essential listening, and the band delivered with a loud, fun performance at a March 15 show at the Empty Bottle. Check out some songs from Mac Blackout’s album America Stole My Baby at bandcamp and myspace.




Best Films of 2011

I’m a couple of months late with this year-end list, but that’s how long it took for me to catch up on some of the 2011 films I’d missed earlier. My rules for what qualifies as a 2011 film: If it screened in Chicago last year — even at a film festival or a one-time screening at a place like the Gene Siskel Film Center — I think it counts.

I had no theme in mind as I compiled this list, but when I looked at the still photos from my top 10 films, I realized how many of them focus on children or teenagers. Orphaned or abandoned or overlooked, starved for attention and affection, these characters (and in some cases, real people) are looking for father or mother figures, or just someone who will treat them like human beings. Some of the adults in these films are on a similar quest, seeking to make meaningful connections with other people.

Looking at these films as a group, I wonder what their characters would say to one another? What advice would the heroes of The Interrupters give to the feuding families in A Separation, the impoverished Brits who live in the public housing called The Arbor or the death-row inmates of Into the Abyss? Would Belgium’s Kid With A Bike become fast pals or playground rivals with the French clock-fixing Hugo and the boys in Play and Tree of Life?

Without further ado, the list:

Utterly gripping from beginning to end, director Ashgar Farhadi’s A Separation is also a completely convincing drama of a complicated conflict focused on two families. Each character’s viewpoint is part of the picture. Like other great Iranian films, A Separation is both a telling document of life in today’s Iran as well as a story with universal elements that transcend that specific time and place.

The Interrupters is heartbreaking, inspiring and thought-provoking. It’s a call to action, but it isn’t a lecture. Filmmakers Steve James and Alex Kotlowitz created a documentary that plays out as a subtle, multilayered narrative, people with compelling real-life characters.

Director Clio Barnard’s The Arbor is like no other documentary. Is it even a documentary? Its visual side is more like a dramatization, with actors appearing on the screen, but they’re lip-synching to audio recordings of the real people this film is about. The effect is surreal and unsettling. It’s a sad and disturbing tale of life on the fringes of England’s society, and it’s doubly fascinating as an exploration of art and real life reflecting and remixing each other.

In the latest film directed by Belgian brothers Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, The Kid With a Bike, a troubled boy hurtles down streets on his bike with manic energy and emotion, while a benevolent woman tries to give him something more like a normal childhood. It’s realistic enough to be a documentary, but with passages of swelling music that emphasize the moral lessons. In this touching and compassionate film, the emotions are completely earned.

Swedish director Ruben Östlund’s Play is a perceptive and complex film about anti-social behavior. It vividly evokes the feelings of fear children feel when confronted by bullies. Also on display are the fearful attitudes that some white people in Sweden have toward darker-skinned immigrants living among them. The victims here are white, and the delinquents are black, but very little here is explained in black and white terms.

Werner Herzog received a fair amount of attention last year for his intriguing 3-D documentary Cave of Forgotten Dreams, but he made an even better film. Into the Abyss is his straightforward, matter-of-fact documentary about a callously cruel crime spree that landed its perpetrators on death row. Herzog’s interviews with the key participants in the story reveal a truly tragic tale.

Director Kenneth Lonergan’s Margaret finally got released, several years after it was filmed, and then it promptly disappeared from theaters. Anna Paquin is excellent as a teenager who witnesses — and to a great extent, causes — a fatal traffic accident. The moral struggle and turbulent emotions she faces in the tragedy’s aftermath are the obsessive, driving force of this intense drama.

Director Martin Scorsese’s Hugo is the closest thing on my list to a mainstream movie designed for pure entertainment value. And it surely is a marvel of 3-D cinematography. It’s also a lovely ode to one of the earliest filmmakers, Georges Melies. And like many of the other films on my list, it shows you the world through the eyes of a child. And what a delightful vision it is.

Sex, obsession, religion, sensational journalism, dog cloning… Tabloid is another terrific example of documentary director Errol Morris’ distinctive filmmaking style, which amuses with its quirkiness even as it offers some illuminating insights in the strange things that people do.

Director Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life is more of a poem or a painting than a typical narrative movie. The visionary tangents are beautiful, if sometimes mystifying. A story of sorts eventually emerges — a fragmented story reflected through countless mirrors — about a boy’s strained relationship with his father. Russian directors Andrei Tarkovsky and Aleksandr Sokurov have made similarly strange, slow, symphonic films, but this one may seem odder because it was made by an American studio.

Runners-up in roughly descending order:
Le Quattro Volte (Michelangelo Frammartino, Italy)
Certified Copy (Abbas Kiarastomi, France)
Project Nim (James Marsh, U.S.)
Martha Marcy May Marlene (Sean Durkin, U.S.)
Le Havre (Aki Kaurismaki, Finland/France)
Mysteries of Lisbon (Raoul Ruiz, Portgual)
Moneyball (Bennett Miller, U.S.)
King of Devil’s Island (Marius Holst, Norway)
The Robber (Benjamin Heisenberg, Austria)
Incendies (Denis Villeneuve, Canada )
The Trip (Michael Winterbottom, Britain)
Nostalgia for the Light (Patricio Guzman, Chile)
Pina (Wim Wenders, Germany)
Take Shelter (Jeff Nichols, U.S.)
The Artist (Michel Hazanavicius, France)
The Portuguese Nun (Eugene Green, Portugal)
Poetry (Chang-dong Lee, South Korea)
Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (Tomas Alfredson, U.S.)
Rise of the Planet of the Apes (Rupert Wyatt, U.S.)
The Descendants (Alexander Payne, U.S.)
Miss Bala (Gerardo Naranjos, Mexico)
Meek’s Cutoff (Kelly Reichardt, U.S.)
Another Earth (Mike Cahill, U.S.)
Monsieur Lazhar (Philippe Falardeau, Canada)
On the Bridge (Olivier Morel, France/U.S.)
Cave of Forgotten Dreams (Warner Herzog, France)
Aurora (Christi Puiu, Romania)
Drive (Nicolas Winding Refn, U.S.)
Midnight in Paris (Woody Allen, U.S.)
Melancholia (Lars Von Trier, Denmark)
The Turin Horse (Bela Tarr, Hungary)
The Giants (Bouli Lanners, Belgium)
The Good Son (Zaida Bergroth, Finland)

Sharon Van Etten at Lincoln Hall

Singer-songwriter Sharon Van Etten has been getting a lot of press this month, and deservedly so. Her third and latest album, Tramp, is a strong collection of songs, with some of the moody introspection of her previous records as well as a new, harder-charging sound on the standout track “Serpents.” Van Etten played to packed houses last Thursday and Friday nights at Lincoln Hall in Chicago; I was there Friday (Feb. 17).

When Van Etten played the very first afternoon set of the 2010 Pitchfork Music Festival, her seemed a little tentative, like someone unaccustomed to playing on such a big stage. On Friday night, her singing was more assertive, and she had a trio of musicians helping to give her music a fuller sound. She still seemed a bit unnerved or uncertain about being in the spotlight. Van Etten was in a silly, giggly mood, joking around quite a bit in between songs, creating a strange contrast with her more serious lyrics. The fumbling around in between songs was charming at times, but after a while, the show’s erratic pacing became a distraction. Van Etten joked that we were watching her learning how to have a band, and that’s just what it felt like — not entirely a bad thing. Most interesting was the way Van Etten and her band stretched out the openings of some songs, creating drones that set the mood for the songs that eventually emerged.
sharonvanetten.com
myspace.com/sharonvanetten



Sharon Van Etten's band


Sharon Van Etten's band







Opening act Shearwater played an impressive set dominated by songs from its new record Animal Joy. Although most of the musicians backing Shearwater’s singer-songwriter Jonathan Meiburg were new to the lineup, but they played tight, rocking versions of the band’s art rock.
shearwatermusic.com
myspace.com/shearwater

Shearwater



At the end of the night, when Van Etten played her encore, the members of Shearwater came back onto the stage, too. Van Etten and Meiburg swapped lead vocals in a cover of Stevie Nicks and Tom Petty’s “Stop Dragging My Heart Around.” From what I hear, they teamed up the night before on a cover of the Soft Boys’ “I Wanna Destroy You.”

Sharon Van Etten + Shearwater

Veronica Falls at the Empty Bottle

The record I’ve listened to the most so far in 2012 is probably the self-titled album by the British band Veronica Falls. It came out last fall, escaping my attention at the time. It probably would have ended up somewhere on my best of 2011 list if I’d known about it. Anyway, I’m catching up now, and I caught Veronica Falls playing Thursday night (Feb. 16) at the Empty Bottle.

Veronica Falls is a standout in the school of recent bands reviving the sounds of 1960s girl groups, garage bands and one-hit wonders. At least, that’s my impression, but they’re making other critics think of ’80s British rock bands such as the Smiths. I can heart that, too. In any case, Veronica Falls’ melodies — both the melodies being sung and the ones being played on the guitars — are especially strong and catchy, which was just as obvious at the Bottle concert as it is listening to their record. The female-male harmonies are a delight, reminding me a touch of Sons and Daughters. And the contrast between the bright tunes and the often melodramatically dark lyrics (just look at the song titles: “Found Love in a Graveyard,” “Bad Feeling,” “Misery”) adds to the charm. Veronica Falls included a few new songs in its set, making me all the more eager to hear their next record. The band closed with a fine cover of Roky Erickson’s “Starry Eyes.”
veronicafalls.com
myspace.com/veronicafallshard

The show also featured opening sets by the affable Halamays and the scrappy Brilliant Colors (who did a fine cover themselves, of the Who’s “So Sad About Us”).










Brilliant Colors

Brilliant Colors

Cate Le Bon at Schubas

Welsh singer-songwriter Cate Le Bon’s really grown as an artist since I saw her playing some solo acoustic music at SXSW in 2008. That was nice, but her new record, Cyrk, is simply great, going deeper into the folk melodies of the British Isles while turning up the electric guitar a bit. Le Bon was also pretty great when she played a set dominated by those new songs Tuesday (Feb. 14) at Schubas. Le Bon sometimes sang with a touch of Nico in her delivery, but Le Bon’s vocals aren’t quite as chilly or monotone as that. Her hair hung in front of her face as she sang, and she spent most of the show playing electric guitar, moving over to the keyboards for a couple of songs. The climax of the set was the terrific two-part suite that also ends Cyrk — “Ploughing Out 1 + 2.” The moment where part 1 shifts into part 2 is a brilliant example of a transition that enhances the music on either side of it, and it worked just as well live as it does on record.
catelebon.com
myspace.com/catelebon









Jeff Mangum returns

Jeff Mangum is surrounded by mystique. He’s one of those musicians who stop making music and giving interviews, causing people to wonder and worship. None of that matters if the music isn’t good. In Mangum’s case, the last music he made before he seemed to fall off the face of the earth was a masterpiece, the 1998 Neutral Milk Hotel album In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. In the 14 years since it was released, the album has gained a well-deserved cult following.

The enduring strength of the songs on Aeroplane is clear now that Mangum has finally emerged to play concerts. He delivered powerful performances of that Areoplane material and a few other Neutral Milk Hotel songs when I saw him Monday, Feb. 6, at the Athenaeum Theatre in Chicago and Wednesday, Feb. 8, at the Pabst Theatre in Milwaukee.

Other than a few moments when other musicians joined him onstage to blow horns, bang drums or bow cello strings, the shows consisted entirely of Mangum sitting down on a chair, strumming acoustic guitars and singing. Mangum has one of those loud, proclaiming folk-singer voices — early Bob Dylan filtered through the droning British accent of John Lennon, with a touch of Syd Barrett — and his singing has changed very little in the years he’s been missing. Mangum showed that he’s capable of subtlety with a few, quieter turns of phrase, but he was more interested in belting out notes for the whole world to hear. When he slipped into wordless phrases, singing syllables such as “dee dee dee dee dee,” the melodies sounded like ancient folk laments and marching tunes.

The opening sets both nights were by a trio of musicians from the Elephant 6 collective, who also helped out with cameos during Mangum’s set: Scott Spillane and Laura Carter, both of whom played with Neutral Milk Hotel back in the day as well as the Gerbils, and Andrew Rieger of Elf Power. Spillane and Rieger each sang some nice songs, but the musicianship was ramshackle and sometimes blatantly off-key. The Elephant 6 scene and other lo-fi rock bands have always had a touch of amateurism, which can be charming in a naïve way, but these performances just made me wish they’d tuned their instruments better. And the songs paled in comparison with Mangum’s.

The crowds in Chicago and Milwaukee greeted Mangum rapturously, but the rapture felt a bit more intense in Milwaukee. Fans at both venues shouted questions in between songs, eager to hear some words from Mangum, but the questions tended more toward the sophomoric in Chicago. One audience member asked Mangum to compare Superman and Batman. Another asked his opinion of Stravinsky. One of these off-the-wall questions did generate an interesting response. Someone asked, “Jeff, how do you feel about reincarnation?” Mangum replied, “I’m doing it right now.” Despite his reputation as a recluse, Mangum seemed completely at ease performing onstage and interacting with the audience.

At the Pabst, a few audience members walked up to stand near the stage as Mangum played the second song of the night. At first, the venue’s ushers shooed those fans back to their seats, but then Mangum encouraged fans to get up if they wanted to. The whole front part of the main floor filled up soon with a throng of enthusiastic fans, standing and swaying to the classic Neutral Milk Hotel songs they’d never had a chance to hear live. Mangum remarked how gratifying it was to see his songs reaching people out in the world, years after he’d sent them out — “messages in a bottle.”

Ida at Saki

Four and a half years have passed since the last time indie folk-rock band Ida played in Chicago. And the group hasn’t had a new record since Lovers Prayers, one of my favorite albums of 2008. But the trio was finally back in town Sunday (Jan. 29). One member, Elizabeth Mitchell, was playing a concert of children’s music early Sunday at the Old Town School of Folk Music, which led to an opportunity for Ida to play a free show in the evening at the Saki record store.

The members of Ida remarked that they’d barely had any time to prepare for the show, but they certainly didn’t skimp on playing a generous selection of songs for the 40 or so fans at Saki, performing for 90 minutes. It was a delightfully intimate show, showcasing the hushed harmonies of Mitchell, Daniel Littleon and Jean Cook. They played some of Ida’s best songs, along with covers of songs by Richard and Linda Thompson, the Band, Bill Monroe, the Minutemen, Michael Hurley and the Secret Stars. A former member of that last band, Geoff Farina, opened the show and joined Ida for a couple of songs. Jon Langford also sat in with Ida for one song. But the main attraction was seeing Mitchell, Littleon and Cook sitting together and quietly meshing their singing, guitar, harmonium and violin into lovers’ prayers.

This show was the latest in a series of performances at Saki recorded by Epitonic, so look for a recording of it to show up in the Epitonic Saki Sessions.






Geoff Farina

Thee Silver Mt. Zion at Lincoln Hall

Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra makes stirring, majestic rock music with a strong orchestral sound that rivals anything else today. Few bands deliver live performances as powerful as Silver Mt. Zion’s, and the ensemble proved its excellence once again with its show Saturday (Jan. 28) at Lincoln Hall. It wasn’t just the beautiful sound of those violins melding with the guitar, drums and upright bass to create epic peaks of sound — it was also the way all five of the musicians joined their voices together in otherworldly hymns.

The band (which includes members of the older and recently revived group Godspeed You! Black Emperor) played three new songs that carry on Silver Mt. Zion’s tradition of making long, dramatic pieces of music: “Take Away These Early Grave Blues,” “The State Itself Did Not Agree” and “What We Loved Is Not Enough.” That last song, along with another new one called “Psalms 99,” were for sale at the merch table in a limited-edition set of two 7-inchs — the songs are so long that each is split up into Parts 1 and 2 on these singles. Now there’s something you don’t see too often. Silver Mt. Zion played eight songs Saturday night. Few, if any, clocked in at less than 10 minutes, but every minute felt absolutely necessary.





















Glen Campbell’s Goodbye Tour

Glen Campbell is running out of time. We’re all running out of time, but with Glen Campbell, you really know it. In the coming years, memories will drain out of him or jumble together in his mind. If the dreadful illness he’s suffering from runs its usual, unstoppable course, Campbell may lose most of his power to communicate. No cure is known for Alzheimer’s disease, and it’s almost inevitable that Campbell will suffer the same horrible symptoms that millions of others have experienced.

Campbell bravely let the world know he had Alzheimer’s disease. And he announced he would make one final album (2011’s Ghost on the Canvas) and tour one last time. His “Goodbye” tour included two shows this week at the Rialto Square Theatre in Joliet.

At the concert on Thursday evening (Jan. 25), Campbell never directly said anything about his illness or his imminent retirement from making music. It didn’t need to be said. You could sense the deference, love and admiration that Campbell’s backup musicians (including three of his children) and the audience of longtime fans felt for him. And Campbell kept saying how glad he was to be there and thanking everyone for showing up. That’s boilerplate stage banter you might hear from any musician, but it took on a whole different depth of emotion this time. Campbell seemed to be thanking all of the fans who had ever come to his concerts and bought his records, thanking them one last time while he still could. It was a sad occasion, but it was also a beautiful celebration of this man’s terrific career as a singer-guitarist who transcended genre boundaries and recorded some of the great songs of the ’60s and ’70s.

Campbell showed some of the effects of his illness and age, but he seemed remarkably sure of himself. It helped that he had such a good band playing behind him, and it must have been comforting for him to know that his children were there at his side. But he was still essentially standing alone out at the front of the stage, a 75-year-old man who’s losing his memory facing an auditorium full of people. It appeared that he was reading lyrics off three screens arrayed along the front of the stage — his need for the prompter was more obvious when he performed a few of his new songs than when he did the old standards. Whenever one of the new songs started, he would declare, “I like this song!”

Campbell seemed uncertain where to stand. He kept moving the microphone stand away from center stage, as if he were being drawn to the side for some reason. But when he sang one of the old songs, you could almost see the memory of those words and melodies clicking into place and bringing a smile to his face. His voice was a little weathered, but still strong and confident. At a few points — including the last note of “By the Time I Get to Phoenix” — his voice ascended into a falsetto and hit a high, lovely “ooh.”

During “Galveston,” composer Jimmy Webb’s lyrics took on a new poignancy, as Campbell sang about being afraid of death: “Galveston, oh Galveston, I am so afraid of dying/Before I dry the tears she’s crying/Before I watch your sea birds flying in the sun/At Galveston, at Galveston.” As the song ended and the applause welled up, Campbell started playing the opening riff of “Galveston” all over again on his guitar — until his daughter, Ashley, interjected: “We just played that, Dad.”

Campbell spent much of the show with his blue Strat strapped over his neck, holding onto it for the moments when he would play a guitar solo. (He complained a couple of times about how heavy that guitar felt on his shoulders.) When those moments came, Campbell looked down at the neck of his guitar — and you had to wonder: Can a man suffering from Alzheimer’s disease remember all those notes? Campbell hesitated a few times, but once his fingers started moving, they really moved, and the notes rang out loud and clear. All of the night’s guitar solos belonged to Campbell, and they offered plenty of proof of his skills.

At one point during the concert, Campbell apologized for playing something not quite right — whatever it was, it was a barely noticeable mistake. Campbell told the crowd, “Always remember this, friends: If you do it perfect, they’ll want it that way every time.” Wise words worth remembering from a great musician.

Glen Campbell finished the show with a lovely, wistful song from his new record, “A Better Place,” which he co-wrote with producer Julian Raymond. Campbell sang: “One thing I know/The world’s been good to me/A better place awaits, you’ll see.”

SET LIST: Gentle on My Mind / Galveston / By the Time I Get to Phoenix / Try a Little Kindness / Where’s the Playground Susie / Didn’t We / I Can’t Stop Loving You / True Grit / Lovesick Blues / Dueling Banjos / Hey Little One (sung by Ashley and Shannon Campbell) / Any Trouble / It’s Your Amazing Grace / Country Boy / The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress / Ghost on the Canvas / Wichita Lineman / Rhinestone Cowboy / Southern Nights / A Better Place

Cheyenne Marie Mize at Schubas

The Louisville singer-songwriter Cheyenne Marie Mize has performed with Will Oldham, and now she’s establishing a solo career of her own. Her introspective 2010 debut, Before Lately, had an intriguing mix of styles, and her adventurousness continues on the new EP, We Don’t Need. When Mize performed Wednesday (Jan. 25) at Schubas, she started off her set with the song that opens the EP, “Wishing Well,” which features little more than her singing and chanting to a drum beat. Throughout the rest of her set, she switched between guitar, keyboards and violin, while two other musicians (a drummer and a multi-instrumentalist) provide subtle backing but kept the songs sounding spare and direct.





Plants and Animals at Schubas

The Montreal band Plants and Animals doesn’t easily fit into any of the typical rock genres. Their music has a bit of late ’60s/early ’70s hippie vibe, and there’s a tendency toward jamming, but they don’t sound to me like a jam band. Their 2008 record Parc Avenue is a strong set of songs with unusual turns that stick in your mind. Somehow, I completely missed their 2010 album La La Land until now, and now they’re on the verge of releasing another album, The End of It. They played at Schubas on Jan. 12, part of the bigger-than-ever Tomorrow Never Knows festival. The Parc Avenue songs were excellent in concert, and the new ones were promising.






The evening also featured opening sets by Canon Blue, Herman Dune and the local acoustic folk-rock trio Cloudbirds, who include former members of The M’s. (Cloudbirds are giving away their album online.)

Cloudbirds

Cloudbirds

Herman Dune

Herman Dune

Canon Blue
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Canon Blue

Secret Colours, Apteka and E+

The psychedelic Chicago band Secret Colours celebrated the release of its new EP with a show Jan. 7 at the Empty Bottle, with opening sets by a couple of cool Chicago bands: E+ is a new outfit featuring members of Disappears, Heavy Times and Verma. And the middle band in the lineup, fApteka, had the strongest set of the night, with an intense, swirling sound.

E+

Apteka

Apteka

Apteka

Apteka

Apteka

Secret Colours

Secret Colours

Secret Colours

Secret Colours

The Flat Five at the Hideout

I’m catching up on some recent concert photos — or not so recent, as the case may be. Here are some pictures from the Flat Five shows Dec. 18 at the Hideout. They were as wonderful as always.











Best Albums of 2011

The album is still king for me. In an age of singles, these albums were my favorites of 2011. I heard plenty of other good records beyond this top 50, and I don’t doubt for a second that I missed a myriad other worthwhile recordings.

1. BILL CALLAHAN: APOCALYPSE (Drag City) — Bill Callahan speaks as much as he sings. It’s as if he’s telling you something important in a private conversation. Something important, and yet cryptic. Afterward, you find yourself asking: Just what did he mean when he told me, “Hey, no more drovering”? This recording lets you play back the conversation, and the next time you hear it, it sounds as if he means something different than you’d thought before. The words become more and more musical with each listen, until the lines that seemed like monotone spoken word become indelible melodies. His sentences transform into songs, and the songs themselves seem to morph as they go along, dancing from one shape into another, trembling and buzzing as they go. A strange and singular masterpiece. dragcity.com

2. GILLIAN WELCH: THE HARROW & THE HARVEST (Acony) — Old-fashioned musical idioms — mountain folk songs and murder ballads — become timeless and somehow even contemporary when channeled through the intertwined voices and guitars of Gillian Welch and David Rawlings. Welch’s rustic tales of woe are as evocative as ever, and there’s no need to add effects or other instruments when the music is this perfect and beautiful. gillianwelch.com

3. THEE OH SEES: CARRION CRAWLER/THE DREAM (In the Red) — They turned it up to 11. Everything is cranked up to almost alarming levels of intensity on this California band’s newest record, with one rampaging garage rock tune after another. When Thee Oh Sees get into a groove and keep it going for a while, it pummels you into a trancelike submission. It all crackles with electricity, while the constant male-female harmonies emit a spooky, ethereal atmosphere. intheredrecords.com

4. BONNIE “PRINCE” BILLY: WOLFROY GOES TO TOWN (Drag City) — The latest in a string of very, very good records by Will Oldham. No further proof was necessary that he’s a genius singer-songwriter, but here it is anyway. Gentle folk rock with a sense of stillness and introspection at its core, the music is punctuated with a few of Oldham’s typically shocking lyrics, as well as some beautiful harmonies with a spiritual air about them. The sacred and profane are both in abundance here. dragcity.com

5. TOM WAITS: BAD AS ME (Anti-) — So many of Tom Waits’ strengths as a storyteller, musical craftsman, songwriter and singer — yes, a singer! — are on display here. It’s a well-rounded collection of memorable new songs by one of the all-time greats, with poetic and funny turns of phrase, a little bit of the Spanish tinge, roadhouse rock ’n’ roll, wistful ballads, and even a touch of Waits’ early Beat-poet-hanging-out-at-the-bar vibe. On songs like the opening track, “Chicago,” Waits channels one of the great American musical genres, the blues, into a dark, churning form that’s all his own. And when he breaks out into a chorus of “Auld Lang Syne” at the end of the album — well, haven’t we all been waiting years for him to do that? tomwaits.com

6. YUCK: YUCK (Fat Possum) — So they sound like some other band. Or a bunch of other bands. So what? Who doesn’t sound like someone else? Influences and resemblances don’t matter as much as whether the songs stand up on their own. And Yuck’s songs were among the year’s catchiest, filled with wonderfully loopy guitar riffs and power-pop choruses. What an enjoyable listen this album is. myspace.com/yuckband

7. P.J. HARVEY: LET ENGLAND SHAKE (Vagrant) — The always-inventive P.J. Harvey did something novel on her latest record: She sampled. Not the sort of sampling heard in hip-hop, but borrowing some unexpected musical elements. A xylophone melody lifted from the old novelty tune “Istanbul (Not Constantinople.” Some Russian folk lyrics. A line from Eddie Cochrane’s “Summertime Blues” (“I’m going to take my problem to the United Nations”). A bugle call grafted onto one of Harvey’s songs, sounding at first like it’s jarringly in the wrong key and out of tempo with the song, but then gradually defying logic and seeming like an indispensible part of the track. These mash-ups seemed to inspire Harvey to make one of her most diverse and unusual sets of songs, with a lyrical point of view that’s both expansive and introspective. pjharvey.net

8. MICKEY: ROCK ’N ROLL DREAMER (HoZac) — Garage rock was hot in 2011, especially in Chicago, where the HoZac record label is the center of an exciting scene. One of the bands in this scene, Mickey, plays fun but frequently sloppy live shows, filled with drunken energy. The band tamed that rambunctious recklessness just enough to let the strength of its songs shine through on this debut studio album, which sounds like a lost classic of the ’70s era of proto-punk and glam. Long live rock ’n’ roll dreamers! hozacrecords.com

9. CHARLES BRADLEY: NO TIME FOR DREAMING (Dunham/Daptone) — Charles Bradley’s bio was one of the year’s most moving stories, and he had a terrific debut album to match — a debut album he recorded at the age of 62. Like Sharon Jones before him, Bradley is a soul singer who performed for decades without getting much attention until being discovered by the folks at the Daptone label. The songs are inspired by the frustrations and tragedies Bradley has dealt with in his life, including the murder of his brother, and they sound like classic ’60s soul. Despite the retro sound, the record is a searing and powerful statement on today’s America, a plea for a better world delivered with passion by a man who really, really means it. thecharlesbradley.com

10. RADIOHEAD: THE KING OF LIMBS (TBD) — Radiohead carries on with its transformation, heading further in the direction of experimental and ambient art rock … and yet, underneath all of the pulsing sonic haze, the band is still making songs that stick with you. Somehow, Radiohead manages to sound chilled-out and twitchy at the same time, and the results are consistently intriguing, whether you’re dancing or supine as you listen. radiohead.com

11. The Feelies: Here Before (Bar None)
12. Sam Phillips: Cameras in the Sky (self-released)
13. Wild Flag: Wild Flag (Sub Pop)
14. Wussy: Strawberry (Shake It)
15. Mekons: Ancient & Modern: 1911-2011 (Sin/Bloodshot)
16. Drive-By Truckers: Go-Go Boots (ATO)
17. Wilco: The Whole Love (dBpm/Anti-)
18. Chad VanGaalen: Diaper Island (Sub Pop)
19. Cults: Cults (Itno)
20. Cave: Neverendless (Drag City)
21. Low: C’mon (Sub Pop)
22. Cass McCombs: Wit’s End (Domino)
23. Woods: Sun and Shade (Woodsist)
24. John Luther Adams (performed by Stephen Drury, Scott Deal and the Callithumpian Consort): Four Thousand Holes (Cold Blue Music)
25. St. Vincent: Strange Mercy (4AD)
26. The Skull Defekts: Peer Amid (Thrill Jockey)
27. Lyyke Li: Wounded Ryhmes (Atlantic)
28. I Was A King: Old Friends (Sounds Familyre)
29. Tinariwen: Tassili (Anti-)
30. Eleventh Dream Day: Riot Now! (Thrill Jockey)
31. Heavy Times: Heavy Times (HoZac)
32. Marissa Nadler: Marissa Nadler (Box of Cedar)
33. Fungi Girls: Some Easy Magic (HoZac)
34. My Brightest Diamond: All Things Will Unwind (Asthmatic Kitty)
35. The Go! Team: Rolling Blackouts (Memphis Industries)
36. Mannequin Men: Mannequin Men (Addenda)
37. Raphael Saadiq: Stone Rollin’ (Columbia)
38. The Singleman Affair: Silhouettes at Dawn (Cardboard Sangria)
39. A.A. Bondy: Believers (Fat Possum)
40. Bodies of Water: Twist Again (Secretly Canadian)
41. yMusic: Beautiful Mechanical (New Amsterdam)
42. The People’s Temple: Sons of Stone (HoZac)
43. Boston Spaceships: Let It Beard (Guided By Voices)
44. NRBQ: Keep This Love Goin’ (Clang!)
45. Girls: Father, Son, Holy Ghost (True Panther)
46. White Hills: H-p1 (Thrill Jockey)
47. Tune-Yards: Whokill (4AD)
48. Disappears: Guider (Kranky)
49. Nick Lowe: That Old Magic (Yep Roc)
50. Fleet Foxes: Helplessness Blues (Sub Pop)

Favorite concert photos of 2011

These are my favorites out of the photos I took at concerts in 2011.

SCREAMING FEMALES Jan. 14 at Lincoln Hall
HANDSOME FURS Jan. 15 at Lincoln Hall
LITTLE DRAGON Jan. 16 at Lincoln Hall
KINGS GO FORTH Jan. 21 at the Double Door
BUDDY GUY Jan. 23 at Buddy Guy's Legends
YO LA TENGO Feb. 4 at Metro
THE DRIVE-BY TRUCKERS Feb. 26 at the Vic
RON SEXSMITH March 22 at Schubas
WHITE HILLS March 23 at the Empty Bottle
WHITE HILLS March 23 at the Empty Bottle
GODSPEED YOU! BLACK EMPEROR March 26 at Metro
SKULL DEFEKTS March 31 at the Hideout
SILVER ABUSE April 16 at Permanent Records
LOW April 21 at Lincoln Hall
ELEVENTH DREAM DAY April 22 at Lincoln Hall
THE SPITS May 27 at the HoZac Blackout Festival
NONES May 28 at the HoZac Blackout Festival
EARTH June 8 at Mayne Stage
GRUFF RHYS June 9 at Schubas
HANGGAI June 9 at the Pritzker Pavilion
SWORD HEAVEN June 11 in the Neon Marshmallow Fest at the Empty Bottle
CENTRO-MATIC July 3 at Schubas
EMA July 15 at the Pitchfork Music Festival
TUNE-YARDS July 15 at the Pitchfork Music Festival
GUIDED BY VOICES July 15 at the Pitchfork Music Festival
NEKO CASE July 15 at the Pitchfork Music Festival
ZOLA JESUS July 16 at the Pitchfork Music Festival
OFF! July 16 at the Pitchfork Music Festival
KURT VILE July 17 at the Pitchfork Music Festival
ODD FUTURE July 17 at the Pitchfork Music Festival
ODD FUTURE July 17 at the Pitchfork Music Festival
ODD FUTURE audience July 17 at the Pitchfork Music Festival
ARIEL PINK'S HAUNTED GRAFFITI July 17 at the Pitchfork Music Festival
HEALTH July 17 at the Pitchfork Music Festival
GILLIAN WELCH July 22 at the Vic

WILD FLAG July 23 at Wicker Park Fest
WILD FLAG July 23 at Wicker Park Fest
FOOTBALL July 24 at the Illinois Centennial Monument
THEE OH SEES July 24 at the Illinois Centennial Monument

THEE OH SEES July 24 at the Illinois Centennial Monument
ANATOMY OF HABIT Aug. 7 at the Empty Bottle

MY BRIGHTEST DIAMOND Aug. 8 at the Pritzker Pavilion

MAGIC KEY Aug. 21 at the Illinois Centennial Monument
TERRY ADAMS with NRBQ Aug. 27 at FitzGerald’s
SCOTT LIGON with NRBQ Aug. 27 at FitzGerald’s
SOUL TRAIN CONCERT Sept. 5 at the Pritzker Pavilion
THE EMOTIONS Sept. 5 at the Pritzker Pavilion
BILL CALLAHAN Sept. 16 at Brilliant Corners of Popular Amusements

CHARLES BRADLEY Sept. 17 at Brilliant Corners of Popular Amusements
WHITE MYSTERY Sept. 24 at the Hideout Block Party
WHITE MYSTERY Sept. 24 at the Hideout Block Party
BOOKER T. JONES Sept. 24 at the Hideout Block Party
MAVIS STAPLES Sept. 24 at the Hideout Block Party
LE BUTCHERETTES Nov. 4 at Subterranean
ROCKET FROM THE TOMBS Dec. 7 at the Empty Bottle
ALABAMA SHAKES Dec. 15 at the Hideout

Best concerts of 2011

These are my favorite musical performances that I saw in 2011, with quotes from my original blog posts.

1. ALABAMA SHAKES (Dec. 15 at Hideout). “Wow, did Alabama Shakes live up to the hype. This was the most joyous, energetic and lively musical performance I’ve seen in 2011, and a Hideout crowded with enthusiastic fans was the perfect place to see and hear Alabama Shakes. … The crowd was shouting for more at the end — even if it meant playing some of the same songs over again.” (Original blog post and more photos.)

2. CHARLES BRADLEY (Brilliant Corners of Popular Amusements festival Sept. 17). “Some of his soul shouts gave me chills. … His feelings clearly came out of real experience as he belted the chorus, ‘Why is it so hard to make it in America?’ As the curtain closed on the stage, Bradley jumped down and hugged everyone he could.” (Original blog post and more photos.)

3. THEE OH SEES (Nov. 23 at Empty Bottle). “Somehow, Thee Oh Sees manage to make everything sound like it’s turned up and sped up a notch beyond expectations. … The fantastic, charged music of Thee Oh Sees … sent the crowd into a writhing frenzy.” (Original blog post and more photos.)

4. WILD FLAG (Oct. 9 at Empty Bottle). This was the second time I’d seen Wild Flag perform in 2011, following a July 23 set during Wicker Park Fest. That was a great set, but the four members of Wild Flag were really on fire on the second night of their fall return to Chicago, lifting their songs to another level as they jammed out with joyous abandon.

5. GODSPEED YOU! BLACK EMPEROR (March 26-27 at Metro). “The eight musicians … said barely a word to the audience over the course of the last two nights, concentrating intently on their dark, brooding and apocalyptic music. … The visual accompaniment added to the sense that these ‘songs’ (if that’s even the right word) tell stories, despite the lack of lyrics. And no singing was necessary to convey emotion, either. It was music capable of raising goosebumps.” (Original blog post and more photos.)

6. ELVIS COSTELLO & THE IMPOSTERS (May 15 at Chicago Theatre). “It was truly a ‘show,’ not just a typical concert. Reviving a gimmick he featured in a 1980s tour, Costello gave audience members a chance to come up on stage and spin the big wheel, which had about 40 songs or ‘jackpot’ slots on it … Costello put on a top hat and grabbed a cane … (and) guided Sunday’s audience through a diverse set of songs…” (Original blog post.)

7. MY BRIGHTEST DIAMOND WITH THE CHICAGO YOUTH SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA (Aug. 8 at Millennium Park). “How beautiful it was to hear the concert begin with the opening notes of ‘Dragonfly’ from My Brightest Diamond’s 2006 debut album, Bring Me the Workhorse — those swooping, sweeping violins. The concert was filled with terrific moments like that…” (Original blog post and more photos.)

8. SKULL DEFEKTS (March 31 at Hideout). “With his gray beard, (Daniel) Higgs resembled an Old Testament character or a crew member of an old whaling vessel as he commanded the stage Thursday with his unrestrained vocals. The rest of Skull Defekts — two drummers and two guitarists — never let up with their jagged punk-garage riffs.” (Original blog post and more photos.)

9. WILCO (Dec. 13 at Riviera). “This is one exceptional group of musicians, seemingly capable of playing anything. … It felt like the band could play until morning…” (Original blog post.)

10. RICHARD THOMPSON (Sept. 12 at Evanston Space). “As always, Thompson made his guitar sing, often sounding like an entire band — or two or three guitars, anyway. … The dark, quiet songs were especially haunting…” (Original blog post.)

Honorable mentions:
Bill Callahan (Brilliant Corners of Popular Amusements Sept. 16)
The Flaming Lips (July 7 at Aragon)
Le Butcherettes (Nov. 4 at Subterranean)
Neil Young and Bert Hansch (May 6 at the Chicago Theatre)
M. Ward (Dec. 4 at Schubas)
NRBQ (Aug. 27 at FitzGerald’s)
Drive-By Truckers (Feb. 26 at Vic)
Gillian Welch (July 22 at the Vic)
Tune-Yards (Pitchfork Music Festival July 15 at Union Park)
Mavis Staples (Hideout Block Party Sept. 24 at Hideout)
Screaming Females (Tomorrow Never Knows festival Jan. 14 at Lincoln Hall)
Soul Train 40th anniversary concert with the Chi-Lites, the Emotions, the Impressions, Jerry “The Iceman” Butler (Sept. 5 at Millennium Park)

Alabama Shakes at the Hideout

The only music they’ve released so far is a four-song EP, but Alabama Shakes are already getting a lot of attention. They wowed a lot of people at CMJ in New York earlier this year. I heard about them through the Twitter/Facebook equivalent of word of mouth — comments from people bowled over by Alabama Shakes concerts. Paste magazine named them the best new band of 2012. Arriving this week for their first gigs ever in Chicago, the band sold out the Hideout on Thursday night (Dec. 15). And wow, did Alabama Shakes live up to the hype. This was the most joyous, energetic and lively musical performance I’ve seen in 2011, and a Hideout crowded with enthusiastic fans was the perfect place to see and hear Alabama Shakes. (They’re playing again tonight (Dec. 17) at SPACE in Evanston — see it if you can!)

The bespectacled young woman at the front of this band, Brittany Howard, has a powerful, soulful voice. But she’s also a talented guitarist, and it was just as thrilling to hear her playing riffs and solos as it was to hear her belting out the words. What a passionate, uninhibited performance it was. The band seamlessly blended Southern rock and soul — like country cousins of the Dap-Tone bands, or a more R&B-leaning version of the Drive-By Truckers. Alabama Shakes played a solid hour of songs, sounding vibrant throughout, and the crowd was shouting for more at the end — even if it meant playing some of the same songs over again.

This jaw-dropping show was preceded by a nice opening set by the Lawrence Peters Outfit, led by Hideout bartender and drummer-about-town Lawrence Peters, featuring some tasty, old-fashioned country music. Quite different from Alabama Shakes, but a good complement. Alabama Shakes attracted a fair number of people who had never been to the Hideout before, and they seemed a bit confused by Hideout owner Tim Tuten’s typically long and strange band intros, but Tuten seemed to win them over with his final rousing words, encouraging everyone to start shaking for Alabama Shakes.
















Lawrence Peters Outfit

Lawrence Peters Outfit