SXSW Part 7: March 21

Twitter, 12:05 p.m.: Edie Sedgwick, mustachioed guy in a dress at sxsw: “Could I get more scrambled eggs in the monitor?”

Edie Sedgwick, a transvestite singer who has adopted the stage name of an actress who was in Andy Warhol films, was on my list of acts to see at SXSW. Sedgwick (a.k.a. Justin Moyer of Washington, D.C., a founding member of Dischord bands El Guapo and Antelope), has a really cool track called “Edie Sedgwick II” — carrying on that odd tradition of bands with song titles similar to the band name.

The sxsw Web site has an interesting story about how Moyer developed his latest musical persona after suffering from epileptic seizures. He played a short set around noon at the Radio Room, with some hilarious stage banter (see my tweet above), playing up the incongruities of being a man with a mustache in a blond wig and slinky dress. He grabbed an audience member’s cell phone or camera, lifted up his dress and … well, it looked like he was going to stick the cell phone into the top of his nylon stockings, but I’m not sure if he actually went that far. The music was pretty good, but alas, he did not play that song I was waiting to hear.

I also caught a song by Head of Skulls, which was playing a set out on the Radio Room patio, overlapping with the show by Edie Sedgwick. I didn’t even realize this was a Chicago band until I recognized the bassist as Allison, a bartender at the Empty Bottle. (She’s identified on the Head of Skulls myspace page simply as “The Witch.”) The music was hard rock of the pulverizing punk/metal variety.

12:16 p.m.: I came to the Seattle sxsw [party] for the free food & discovered a cool band, Hey Marseilles. Sounds like Decemberists.

Another group I hadn’t heard of. They weren’t even an official SXSW band this year. But Hey Marseilles made a big impression on me, with some tuneful songs featuring the full complement of assorted instruments that are becoming typical these days in large indie-rock ensembles: tuba, accordion, horns, extra bass drums. They reminded me a lot of the Decemberists, although Hey Marseilles’ singer, Matt Bishop, is lot less mannered in his vocal style than Colin Meloy.

12:48 p.m.: Heavenly States are rocking the convention center cafe. OK, now here is a band I saw and enjoyed, but I can barely remember at this point. Nothing against the Heavenly States — I do think they were quite good — but it’s all becoming a blur. Here’s their song “Lost in the Light.”

1:39 p.m.: Watching a band at sxsw called Girls… which is 4 guys. Singer’s got a classic whine/sneer kinda voice.

SXSW had a band this year called Girls, and another band called The Girls. That’s not to mention Girl in a Coma, Girls in Trouble, Po’ Girl or Garotas Suecas, a Brazilian band whose name means “Swedish Girls.” Plus, there were seven groups with names beginning with the word “Golden,” seven “Hot” bands, five “Magic” acts and four “Crystal” bands. Bears remain popular, too — the festival included Bear Hands, Bearsuit and Angry Vs. the Bear.

Girls and The Girls both had good songs posted on www.sxsw.com, but the one that keeps running through my head is “Lust for Life” by the San Francisco band Girls. (That’s not to be confused with the Iggy Pop song of the same title. Are you still with me here?!?) Girls played this afternoon at the Hot Freaks party at Club Deville, and singer-guitarist Christopher Owens spent the whole show hiding his face behind his long blond hair, leaning down into the microphone and singing catchy songs in the vein of those melodic quasi-punk power-pop tunes once performed by the likes of Wreckless Eric and the Only Ones. Owens does has the classic rock whine and emotional pining of an outsider.

2:19 p.m.: Watching Delta Spirit at the Q magazine party playing a song they wrote this morning.

Delta Spirit put out one of my favorite records last year — well, actually, the record first came out in 2007, but then Rounder Records gave it a wider release in 2008. Now, it’s coming out in the U.K., too. It was nice to hear the band do a new song, and the old ones sounded as strong as ever. They were the only American band playing at the party for Q, a British music magazine.

See Part 1 of my SXSW photos from March 21.

3:16 p.m.: Seeing Fanfarlo 2nd time in 2 days. A band worth seeing many times. Did I mention that the Fanfarlo gig the previous night was almost impossible to photograph because of the dim lighting in that church? Well, this show at the Q party at the Parish was actually lit with a whole variety of colors, and the sound was excellent, and the band got to play a reasonable amount of time. At last, I feel like I’ve seen a real Fanfarlo gig.

Photos of Fanfarlo.

I headed up to the Mohawk for the Hot Freaks party — mostly to see Camera Obscura. But first, I saw the last part of a set by Lemonade, which seemed like pretty solid electronic rock. And then came an outdoor set by the goofballs in Peelander-Z, who call themselves “the Japanese Action Comic Punk Band.” I’m sure this would have been fun to photograph if I could have gotten anywhere near the stage. Listening to Peelander-Z without seeing the guys in their outlandish costumes wasn’t quite as fun. And gosh, what a bizarre lineup, putting this band on the same stage just before the lilting, pretty music of Camera Obscura.

Twitter, 4:44 p.m.: Peelander-Z was on the same stage before Camera Obscura at this sxsw party, w/ painfully loud techno music in between. Bring on the twee Scots, already!

It was a real pleasure to see Camera Obscura, whose 2006 record Let’s Get Out of This Country has stuck with me as an album I return to often. Singer Tracyanne Campbell sounded beautiful as the band played some of my favorite songs from that record as well as tracks from the forthcoming CD My Maudlin Career.

Photos of Camera Obscura.

5:43 p.m.: I am in position to photograph PJ Harvey. Now I’ve just got to make it through the next 4 bands.

OK, so I was being paranoid, but I really did not want to miss an opportunity to see PJ Harvey and to photograph her for the first time. She was scheduled to play with John Parish at 10 p.m. at Stubbs — in the midst of a mostly awful lineup. Before Harvey and Parish played, the scheduled bands were Electric Touch, Parachutes, White Lies and Razorlight. And after they played, the same stage would feature the Indigo Girls and Third Eye Blind. I guess this is the sort of thing that happens when an idiosyncratic artist like Harvey is still on a big label, Island, featuring a lot of considerably more mainstream acts. I was worried some of these bands would draw a big crowd and I would get shut out of the photo pit, so I showed up bright and early and stood through four bands I would have rather missed.

Electric Touch was a bunch of pretty boys making ridiculous poses as they played their completely generic pop music. They looked like actors who’d studied how to become rock musicians by watching bad 1980s MTV clips but without learning anything about the music itself. I could barely stand to watch this set.

Twitter, 6:11 p.m.: First band of the night at sxsw: Electric Touch. These guys are from Austin?!? They seem way more Hollywood, in a bad way. (The lead singer had a British accent, but SXSW identified them as an Austin band. I don’t care to waste any of my time finding out anything more about this group.) 7:01 p.m.: 2nd band of night at sxsw: Parachute. Bland fodder for TV. Marginally less stomach-turning than last band.

The third band, White Lies, was one that actually showed some promise. But they seemed like a corporate record label’s idea of what a “cutting edge” band should sound like. Maybe Interpol fans will like it. White Lies almost broke through all the posing and slick surfaces with the last two songs of their set, almost showing a little spontaneity.

8:34 p.m.: Eighty minutes of Razorlight is all that stands between me and PJ Harvey now… So to speak.

I did not have a very positive impression of Razorlight before this show, based on the little I’d heard. Actually, after the soul-sucking simulacrum of music I’d witnessed earlier in the evening, Razorlight did not seem so bad — just bland. And they didn’t play 80 minutes, more like an hour. By the time they finished, I was in line for the PJ Harvey and John Parish photo pit.

10:31 p.m.: Polly Jean Harvey is as unreal as ever. Great to see her again after such a long absence.

I’ve seen PJ Harvey three times before this, and she never fails to wow me as a live performer or as an artist who always stays on her own eccentric path. She has not played many concerts in the U.S. in the last several years, so this one was a must-see, one of only three American shows she has scheduled so far to promote the new album she recorded with Parish, A Woman A Man Walked By. This was not a typical PJ Harvey solo concert, if there is such a thing, since she did not play any songs from her solo records. Rather, she and Parish stuck with tracks from their new album as well as a couple from the album they recorded together in 1996, Dance Hall at Louse Point.

These records are billed as collaborations where Harvey and Parish are equal partners, but the focus is clearly on Harvey. Parish seems to like it that way, playing guitar alongside her without drawing much attention to himself. How could he compete anyway? Harvey looked as resplendent as ever, wearing a white dress with a bit of a straitjacket look to it.

Some of the songs were moody, almost eerie, and Harvey radiated a strange sense of calm as she intoned the words. Other songs had the loud, stomping quality of Harvey’s early, more punk records. In the 1996 song “Taut,” she pleaded “Jesus save me!” And the new song “Leaving California,” her voice soared way up the scale to beautiful melodic peaks. The set crashed to a climactic end with the new song, “Pig Will Not.” Over loud guitar chords, Harvey wailed, “I will not! I will not! I will not!”

It was another terrific performance by Harvey, although I would preferred to see it somewhere other than Stubbs, where half of the audience seemed to be chatting away as they waited for the Indigo Girls or whatever. And it was teasingly short, just about an hour. Still, it was a great plus to get the chance to shoot some pictures of Polly Jean up-close.

Photos of PJ Harvey and John Parish.

…And, after creating that photo gallery, I posted six additional pictures of PJ Harvey on my flickr stream.

Everything else was bound to seem anticlimactic for me after that. It was simply time to head back out into the streets of Austin, searching for more bands. Maybe I should have gone to see the Monotonix for their SXSW-closing show, which surely would have been thrilling, but I felt like using my final hours to find some new music.

11:06 p.m.: Winnipeg’s Telepathic Butterflies are raving it up with some psychedelic garage rock.

This was part of the showcase at B.D. Riley’s by Rainbow Quartz records, which has some of the best ’60s-style psychedelic and garage-rock bands going these days. The Telepathic Butterflies played a solid set of songs with ringing guitar lines that sounded like the Byrds.

12:06 a.m.: Relaxing in a hotel lobby while NZ folk duo White Swan Black Swan plays. sxsw is almost over. One … more … show…

Now, this was a weird act. A man and woman from Auckland doing semi-humorous folk songs. Sounds like the Flight of the Conchords? Well, it wasn’t that funny. Seemed almost like an act you’d see in a hotel lounge somewhere. Wait a minute, I did see them in a hotel lounge (the Victorian Room at the Driskill). White Swan Black Swan was not great, but I found them fairly charming at times, and I really appreciate the fact that you can see a group like this at SXSW. There’s no way in hell they’d ever get booked at Lollapalooza.

Even though I said “one … more … show” on my tweet, I ended up squeezing pieces of three concerts into my final hour of SXSW.

1:10 a.m.: I’m watching a masked man sing about a butter knife – Vancouver’s Evaporators. … Hmmm, well, that was sort of interesting, but a little too much shtick for me just now.

1:45 a.m.: Hopping around in my last hour of sxsw: Belgium’s Black Box Revelation, Mexico’s Division Minuscula. The Black Box Revelation was a guitar-and-drums duo that reminded me of the Black Keys, though maybe a bit more punk than that band.

I headed across the street to see the last few songs by Division Minuscula, who played some impressive guitar licks. At 2 a.m., the set ends, and for some reason, the house stereo at the Habana Bar Backyard begins blaring Billy Joel’s “Piano Man.”

See Part 2 of my SXSW photos from March 21.

2:05 a.m.: The end.

SXSW Diary Part 6: March 20

Twitter, 11:07 a.m.: I told 1 of the Wrens: Can’t wait for your new CD. His reply: “Neither can we. You got any songs?”

More on that story: The morning after seeing the Wrens play at Prague, I’m in a crowded elevator at the Hilton. The elevator stops at a floor below mine, and the doors open to reveal the four members of the Wrens standing there. There isn’t enough room for all of them to get on, but Kevin Whelan jumps inside, leaving behind his bandmates. “Well, that’s it,” I say to him. “I guess your band’s broken up.” Whelan, who was smiling and acting as if I were an old buddy of his, laughs. I tell him I enjoyed the Wrens show last night

And then comes that exchange I Twittered about above. I add: “You played a couple of news songs last night, didn’t you?” Whelan says: “Yeah. We were just messing around.” Whatever he says, the band is recording a new CD — finally!

11:45 a.m.: Watching the Lost Brothers. These guys are like a young Irish Everly Bros. Fab voices.

This was over at the Full Irish Breakfast party at B.D. Riley’s. This Liverpool-based Irish duo (according to their sxsw bio, “Mark Mccausland and Oisin leech.- otherwise known as bark and bosh”) sing in sweet harmony. I couldn’t help thinking of the Everly Brothers as I watched them, though their music is on the folkier end of the Everly spectrum. I liked this performance so much that I bought the Lost Brothers’ CD Trails of the Lonely (Parts I & III) from one of the guys as soon as they’d finished singing. The following night, I would run into the Lost Brothers in the audience at another gig. They’d had a fair amount to drink by that point, and when I asked one of them, “You guys aren’t really brothers, are you?” he said, “Sure we are!!!” Here’s the Lost Brothers song “Angry at the Sun.”

I spent the afternoon zipping around to various parties. Over at the SPIN magazine party at Stubbs, New Zealand’s Cut Off Your Hands were sounding loud and aggressive on the Stubbs stage. Not really my thing. When it comes to noisy Kiwis this year, I preferred Bang! Bang! Eche!

Wildbirds and Peacedrums, a duo from Gothenberg, Sweden, was playing in the Sweden Goes SXSW at Habana Calle 6. I enjoyed this group’s album from last year, Heartcore, which has an unusual mix of atmospheric textures and hard-hitting rhythms. They were an interesting band to see live, with nothing other than drums and vocals. Mariam Wallentin has a brassy voice, and she seemed at times to be throwing it up against the clattering drum patterns from her partner, Andreas Werliin, while adding in some of her own percussion. I’m looking forward to hearing the new album by Wildbirds and Peacedrums, The Snake. Here’s the Wildbirds and Peacedrums song “Doubt/Hope.”

Twitter, 2:04 p.m.: Pains of Being Pure at Heart is playing at a day party. Sounds stronger than the record, very catchy.

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart are one of the indie-rock bands with the most buzz right now. They played at Schubas in Chicago not long ago. Not realizing how much hype they were getting, I failed to get a ticket ahead of time and discovered that night that they’d sold out the show. At SXSW, the Pains seemed to be playing everywhere. I caught them at a party hosted by Pitchfork at Emo’s Jr. Skeptics are calling the Pains “this year’s Vampire Weekend,” to which I say: “No!!!” While I thought Vampire Weekend was last year’s vastly overrated buzz band, the Pains sound nothing like that group.

And while I don’t think the debut CD by the Pains is a masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination, it is pretty enjoyable. And the band was even better as a live out, cranking up the fuzzy feedback and playing those songs with more energy. It’s loud, with a touch of that shoegazer sound, and quite melodic, too. Here’s the Pains of Being Pure at Heart song “Come Saturday.”

See Part 1 of my SXSW photos from March 20.

2:35 p.m.: Band called Woods sounds like Canned Heat + psychedelic tape effects.

Not being too familiar with Woods, I wasn’t sure what to expect at this show, which was in Emo’s main room. I checked out their myspace page and loved the songs I heard, but those ones have a female vocalist. And it’s obvious that singer isn’t part of Woods’ current incarnation, which is all-male. One member of Woods knelt on the stage, taking cassette tapes in and out of a machine and singing background vocals into what looked like headphones, adding a layer of weird effects while the rest of the band played jammy roots rock that sounded like something out of the late ’60s or early ’70s.

The group describes its music as: “lysergic & infectiously bent acidfolk pop grooving with motorik percussion, cracked fuzz, unique vocal gush, and burning psych jams… plus enough sweet hooks to get yr next freakout party moving right.” That’s as good of a description as I could come up with, though I’m not sure when my “next freakout party” is going to happen.

3:59 p.m.: Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band: looks like a barbershop quartet, sounds like Modest Mouse.

Playing on the most mundane-looking stage at SXSW, the Convention Center’s café, the members of Mt. St. Helen’s Vietnam Band looked around and asked, “What is this place?” (Or words to that effect.) They then ripped through three or so songs with a lot of passion and energy. And yes, they were wearing matching vests. They did look like they were about to harmonize to some songs from the 1890s or something, but their sound is nothing like their look. The Seattle group’s debut CD is on the Dead Oceans label.

I also saw the tail end of the cafe performance by Dublin’s One Day International before Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band took the stage, but not enough to form much of an opinion.

4:19 p.m.: The Tallest Man On Earth is not *that* tall. Pretty good folk rock by a guy from Sweden. This was another show at the café. The Tallest Man, a.k.a. Kristian Mattson, performed his solo acoustic songs with an intense look on his face. He really seemed to mean what he was singing.

4:56 p.m.: Taking a break from all the new music for eighties flashback Echo & Bunnymen at SPIN party.

Back to Stubbs for the end of the SPIN party. I hadn’t seen Echo and the Bunnymen in more than 20 years. They sounded as good as ever, playing a greatest-hits set with songs including “The Cutter” and “The Killing Moon” alongside a few newer tunes, which fit in pretty well with the classics.

See Part 2 of my SXSW photos from March 20.

The main thing that attracted me to the next party, Sounds of Spain, was the promise of free paella and sangria. I hoped to hear some good music, too, but the singer playing while everyone descended on the food table, the preposterously named Nacho Vegas, sounded to me like a Spaniard trying to sound like a generic American rock musician.

Twitter, 7:13 p.m.: I’m witnessing a weird pagan ritual, also known as Kansas City band Mythical Beast. Apocalyptic, man.

This was one of my favorite finds of SXSW. I love the fact that weird music like is happening in places all over America, cities like Kansas City, and not just the places that have a reputation for being hip. Wearing a flowing, glittery gold dress, vocalist Corinne belted out her songs with dramatic concentration and booming power, pounding on a big kettle drum with fuzzy-tipped mallets, while guitarists Jeremiah and Aaron played moody riffs that sounded like fragments of a hard-rock band removed from the rest of the band. Corinne’s singing was very impressive, reminding me at times of Grace Slick, P.J. Harvey, Carla Bozulich and Nico. Mythical Beast records on the Language of Stone label run by Greg Weeks of the freaky, psychedelic, folk-rock band Espers, and I can see why Weeks would be interested in Mythical Beast. Here’s the Mythical Beast song “Cycle Circle.”

8:17 p.m.: Watching the Howlies stomping to some garage rock. Pretty good, but they could scuzz it up more.

I had high hopes for the Howlies after hearing their song “Chimera” — a cool ’60s-style garage-rock track. The band was decent as a live act, sounding like an oldies cover band except for the fact that their songs are original, but I was hoping for a little bit more.

9:43 p.m.: London’s brilliant Fanfarlo is rocking an Austin church. Sounds sublime!

This was one of the SXSW shows I was anticipating the most. I saw Fanfarlo last year in a gig at the Wave Rooftop that was marred by delays and technical malfunctions, and ever since then, I had enjoyed listening to the free CD the band handed out of its songs from EP’s released only in Britain. Now, Fanfarlo was playing at Central Presbyterian Church. I liked the idea of seeing this six-piece ensemble, which has strings, horns and extra drums in addition to the usual rock-band lineup, in a church. Alas, the set got off to a bad start with some jarring bass feedback permeating the first song.

The sound got better as the set went on, eventually leading me to Twitter that it sounded “sublime.” A bit of an exaggeration, perhaps, but the songs were great, in any case. The set was far too short for me, but I was able to buy a copy of Fanfarlo’s forthcoming debut CD, Reservoir, at the merch table, and I would get a chance to see Fanfarlo again the next day. Fanfarlo sounds a bit like the Arcade Fire and performs its music with a similar sense of celebration and instrument-swapping. Lead singer Simon Balthazar’s voice reminds me of David Byrne’s. Here’s the Fanfarlo song “Harold T. Wilkins, Or How to Wait for a Very Long Time.”

See Part 3 of my SXSW photos from March 20.

School of Seven Bells seemed to be getting a fair amount of attention at this year’s SXSW. I caught the trio on the Radio Room Patio and enjoyed what I heard. This is Benjamin Curtis of the Secret Machines (a band I never cared for all that much) playing guitar and drum machines while Italian twin sisters Alejandra and Claudia Deheza (from the band On-Air Library!) join their voices together. They have that lovely sort of harmony that only seems to come out of sibling voices. Here’s the School of Seven Bells song “Half Asleep.” (Hey, why didn’t I Twitter anything about this band?)

Twitter, 11:13 p.m.: O Canada, you keep sending up such good bands. Toronto’s Golden Dogs are storming through some great power pop.

I realize now that the Golden Dogs have played at SXSW for the past four years, and I’ve accumulated four songs by this Toronto band in my iTunes library. But I did not see them until now. What drew me was a cool song called “Lester.” The band sounded great live, something like late ’60s or early ’70s power pop, with alternating male and female vocals. A bit of the New Pornographers, perhaps. On their last song of the night, the Golden Dogs made a smooth segue into the classic guitar chords and drums of the Beatles’ “The End.” (Someone in the crowd shouted, “Punk rock!” at that moment, somewhat incongruously.)

11:54 p.m.: Now it’s time for a little live Devo. … 12:40 a.m.: After 5 songs in orange safety vests, Devo donned those red flower pot hats. “Whip It.”

The reunited original members of Devo looked older, but just as nerdy. Wearing those Devo outfits as they played songs from “Whip It” to their cover of “(Can’t Get No) Satisfaction,” they really looked like utility repairmen out on the job. I noticed several geeky fans wearing those red flower-pot hats, er, “energy domes,” which were for sale at the merch counter for $30. Good times.

Photos of Devo.

I ended the night at the Hideout, the same little theater where I’d begun the evening watching Mythical Beast. The last band of the showcase there was Magic Lantern from Long Beach, Calif. When I was preparing for SXSW by listening to the thousand-plus mp3s posted at www.sxsw.com, I noticed that the Magic Lantern track, “At the Mountains of Madness,” was the longest one in the bunch, clocking in at 14 minutes and 51 seconds. While I skipped through some of the other songs after hearing 30 seconds, I listened to all of this one — a heavy psychedelic jam. The band was great live, too, playing thunderous riffs with a mesmerizing sense of repetition.

See Part 4 of my SXSW photos from March 20.

SXSW Diary Part 5: March 19

I started out the day with a panel discussion at the Austin Convention Center called “Indie Labels Keep the Faith,” caught a few minutes of British singer-songwriter Paul Marshall playing in the café, then went across the street to the Memphis barbecue in Brush Square Park. Jump Back Jake was playing bar-band rock as I stood in line for food. Nothing got my attention until a guest star was announced.

Twitter, 1:15 p.m.: Just saw Jody Stephens of Big Star drumming while I was scooping up free baked beans at Memphis music party.

Back to the Convention Center café, I saw another song by Loch Lomond then watched a Swedish country-music quartet. 1:53 p.m.: Abalone Dots: 4 Swedish gals harmonizing, sounds a bit like Alison Krauss.

This group’s sound is probably too traditional or mainstream to appeal much to indie-rockers, but I think they’ll be a hit with Americana lovers. They were giving out copies of their CD, Traveler, which I’ve enjoyed listening to since then. It’s out in Sweden on RCA/Sony/BMG, but Abalone Dots apparently don’t have a U.S. record label. Here’s their song “Craighead County Sky.”

I spent the next 90 minutes at the SXSW keynote address by Quincy Jones, which I wrote about in a separate diary entry. Afterward, I caught a few songs by Justin Townes Earle in the café. I’ll include the standard mention of this singer’s pedigree — yes, he is Steve Earle’s son — before going on to say he’s a really good singer-songwriter in his own right. If anything, he seems to be more firmly rooted in traditional folk and country music than his dad. Even his drawling banter sounded like something you might have heard on a Nashville stage way back when.

Over at Brush Square Park, Esser was playing at the Transgressive Party. This is the stage name of Ben Esser, a young Brit with a pompadour hairdo who was wearing a black jacket covered with shiny buttons. Unfamiliar with Esser’s music, I heard something that sounded like dance pop with a bit of punk thrown in. Esser was given to making extravagant gestures as he performed.

The real reason I was in the tent, however, was to see the next act, which I twittered about a short time later. 5:54 p.m.: Graham Coxon (ex-Blur) is playing solo acoustic in a tent. Impressive finger picking, some nice new songs.

It was just Coxon and an acoustic guitar, and I believe every song he played was from his forthcoming album, The Spinning Top. Song titles were: “Sarah’s Army,” “This House,” “In the Morning,” “Brave the Storm” and “Dead Bees.” It was a strong collection of songs, with some very fast and deft guitar playing.

Coxon seemed a little nervous or ill at ease at a few moments — maybe because of a slight problem with his guitar’s sound going out for a few seconds — but it was a really nice performance, and now I’m looking forward to that new record. Coxon said he was wearing larger sunglasses than he had the day before, when a sound man told him that his other glasses were causing microphone feedback — something Coxon has never heard before in all his years of performing.

On his Twitter feed, Coxon noted, “wearing the biggest specs i can find. just am [sic] experiment…” Earlier in the day, Coxon twittered: “sxsw rolls inexerably on. the dead litter the gutters and verges. theres bits of brain on the brogues. i walk thru the smokin scape to victory!”

This year, I was staying at a hotel, the Hilton, that had its own musical stage, and so I managed to see English folk-rocker Jay Jay Pistolet performing in the lobby while grabbing a quick bite to eat. Pistolet’s voice sounded great, and he seemed like a crooner in the style of recent Nick Lowe records. And then, it was back out onto the streets of Austin for the nighttime showcases…

See more photos of daytime shows I attended on March 19.

Twitter, 7:29 p.m.: Watching All Tiny Creatures: guys from Milwaukee who sound more like ‘7Os German rock. Cool repetitive grooves. As I watched this show at the Habana Bar, I started to think I’d seen this band before, but then I realized I was thinking of another group from Milwaukee, Collections of Colonies of Bees, which includes one of the same musicians, Thomas Wincek. All Tiny Creatures put on a cool performance of instrumental pieces featuring Philip Glass-style minimalism, looping keyboard parts and driving percussion. It reminded me of Krautrock bands such as Neu. Here’s the All Tiny Creatures track “To All Tiny Creatures.”


8:22 p.m.: Awesome rocking set by Bam Bam from Monterrey, Mexico! One of the fest’s best so far.

This set at B.D. Riley’s was one of the SXSW shows I had been looking forward to the most. I missed Bam Bam last year at SXSW, but then when I went back later on and listened to some of the mp3s from 2008 SXSW bands, I really started to dig the Bam Bam song “Hi-Q.” I played it when I was a guest on WBEZ’s Radio M show last summer. Bam Bam’s EP is available for free download at the Nene Records site.

So now was my chance to see this group live after blowing a similar opportunity last year. Bam Bam delivered! I love the energy of the group’s songs, with a strong mix of male and female vocals. (If this set had any flaw, it was a need for the singing to be mixed higher.) Female singer Luxor pounded away on a drum as she sang, giving the songs an extra kick. On Bam Bam’s myspace page, where it lists the members and what they play, a note adds: “and we all sing and dance like fishes.” I’m not sure what fishes dance like, but Bam Bam rocked the house. According to the bio Bam Bam supplied to SXSW, the group is “now locked up in an old pesticide warehouse,” working on a new record.

I headed over to Speakeasy next to see The Wailing Wall. I liked the songs I’d heard by this New York group on myspace. Live, the mix of guitar, viola, keyboards and drums sounded pretty good, but the songs did not make much of an impression on me. Worth hearing again.

I stopped into the Parish long enough to catch a couple of songs by Thao With the Get Down Stay Down. This group, led by Thao Nguyen, seemed to be getting some buzz. I didn’t hear enough to really say what I think. This song by Thao, “Bag of Hammers,” is interesting.

10:32 p.m.: Vivian Girls were pretty good but then they seemed to run out of songs and did a repeat.

A change in the schedule at Aces Lounge allowed me to squeeze in most of the Vivian Girls set there — although I’d vowed never to step foot in the place again after seeing Grant Hart on that stage behind the bar. The Vivian Girls did their thing pretty well, playing primitive rock with a cool attitude, though they did seem a bit short on material.

Photos of the Vivian Girls.


I stopped into another venue I’ve really come to dislike, Wave Rooftop, for a set by Artefacts For Space Travel. Trying to recall what this group sounds like, the name made me think it was going to be psychedelic space rock. And their bio on the SXSW site notes, “Time-out magazine have called us ‘Weirdo Lo-fi Psyche rock.'” As it turned out, the Artefacts sounds something like the melodic punk-pop of bands such as the Arctic Monkeys but with more of the reverbs and effects you’d expect in psychedelic music. They sounded good live. Here’s their song “Recoup.”

11:27 p.m.: Old Japanese prog rockers Flower Travellin’ Band are playing. That’s one weird-looking guitar.

Actually, that wasn’t a guitar I was looking at when I Twittered thus. It was a sitarla, an instrument that has six strings like a guitar but an extra wide neck extending past the high “E” string, allowing for more string bending. I decided to see Flower Travellin’ Band after reading that it was the reunion of an early ’70s prog-rock group from Japan that hadn’t played together in 35 years. I didn’t know the songs, but I could see and hear how talented these guys are — there were some amazing guitar solos and piercing vocals. The music reminded me of classic rock by Deep Purple and Santana. It was strange seeing this band with an audience of devoted fans, who were super excited at the chance to see Flower Travellin’ Band for the first time so many years after their records came out.

Photos of Flower Travellin’ Band.

12:24 a.m.: This band is called Abe Vigoda but they’re all wearing Judy Garland T-shirts.

I rather liked the one song I’d heard by the Los Angeles punk band Abe Vigoda, “Don’t Lie”, but I had a little trouble connecting with the band’s music when I heard it live. It was a noisy set, and I think if I’d known the songs beforehand, I might have enjoyed it.

I capped off the night with a show by the Wrens, an old favorite of mine, at the basement venue called Prague. Unfortunately, the place was so crowded that I couldn’t get anywhere near the stage. When the Wrens finally began, the first song was so quiet that it was hard to tell from the back of the room whether they were performing or doing sound check. But when the chords of “Everyone Choose Sides” rang out, it felt like an electric charge running through the crowd. What followed was a typically great Wrens performance, though the SXSW schedule required the show to be shorter than I would have liked.

Twitter, 2:07 a.m.: Wrens rocked at the end of the night, played a couple of new songs. … 2:32 a.m.: Wrens: “We’ve got 10 minutes and we’re going to play 33 songs, so no clapping.” (They actually only played 2 songs after that.)

See more photos of bands I saw the night of March 19.

SXSW Diary Part 4: Quincy Jones speech

Here’s what I said on Twitter on Thursday afternoon (March 19). 3:45 p.m.: Quincy Jones may still be going on at next year’s sxsw. Amazing guy but I had to leave after 1 1/2 hours … 4:09 p.m.: I meant to say “Quincy Jones’ speech,” in case anyone thinks he was playing music. There was a piano on stage, but he hadn’t touched it yet.

Yes, SXSW keynote speaker Quincy Jones did talk for a long time. He was scheduled to speak for an hour and 15 minutes. I left at the 90-minute mark. I later saw in the local press that he ended up talking for two and a half hours. I hated to walk out while a living legend was speaking, but I had other places to go.

Jones reminisced about growing up in Chicago and Seattle and working with the biggest names in music, including Ray Charles, Frank Sinatra and Michael Jackson. It was fascinating at times, and I always cherish the opportunity to spend some time listening to someone of Jones’ stature in person, but he did ramble a bit.

A few choice quotes from Jones:

“When you get over the hill, that’s when you really pick up speed … The bad news is … sex after 90 is like shooting pool in the middle of the road.” (Jones, who is 76, says that what’s heard, at least.)

“I’ve been called the ghetto Gump. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

On the most important musical innovation he’s witnessed in his lifetime: “Without the electric bass, there’d be no rock ‘n’ roll … and there’d be no Motown.”

On Frank Sinatra: “He loved you and respected you, or he would roll over you backwards in a Mack truck. No in between.”

On how to tell if a musician’s “got it”: “You can tell if they’ve got it if you recognize them in the first 20 seconds of their record.”

On jazz: “It’s the balance between soul and science.”

“Anyone who says they know how to sell 50 million records is lying and smoking Kool-Aid.”

SXSW Diary Part 3: March 18

I started the day at the café stage in the Austin Convention Center, where Hyperpotamus from Madrid was using looping pedals to create layered, a cappella music, including an elaborate cover of the Beatles’ “Strawberry Fields.”

He was followed by one of the Mexican acts I wanted to catch at sxsw… Twitter, 12:51 p.m.: Watching Natalia Lafourcade: nice Mexican folk rock w/touch of tropicalia. She started with a cover of “Blackbird” (what is this, a Beatles tribute stage?) and continued with some cool original songs.

I headed out to the IDOA party at Emo’s Annex.

1:22 p.m.: Sweden’s Marching Band playing bright melodic pop. Definitely worth seeing.

This was one of the bands I’d wanted to see at SXSW. I enjoyed their tuneful record from last year, Spark Large, and they did not disappoint as a live act. Here’s their song “Make No Plans.”

I went down the street to Red-Eyed Fly, where I impatiently waited for a late-starting gig by the Whispertown 2000. The best part: hearing the two female vocalists sing Gillian Welch’s “Miss Ohio” during the sound check. Once the band actually started playing, it seemed like pretty good country rock, but I couldn’t get too excited over it.

I skipped that scene and went back to Emo’s Annex, where I caught a decent show by Brooklyn’s the Phenomenal Handclap Band, two female singers performing dance rock without a lot of the usual electronic sounds that come with dance music. I later saw someone else on Twitter calling this band “unreal.” Hmmm, well, they were fun enough, and they had some good dance grooves, but they’ve got a long way to go before I’d call them unreal.

Twitter, 2:57 p.m.: Taking a break from music to see Jarvis Cocker gab on “Saying the Unsayable.” … Jarvis Cocker was brilliant. Guy could be a pop-music prof… (See Part 2 of my diary for a separate write-up about Cocker’s lecture.)

6:27 p.m.: Montreal’s Beast was intriguing: Shirley Bassey-style vox, hip-hop + rock.

I’m not sure this band, which was playing at the Canadian Blast Barbecue at Brush Square Park, was really my thing, but I liked it for what it was. The vocalist, Betty Bonifassi, sang on the soundtrack for the great French animated film The Triplets of Belleville, and now she’s based in Montreal along with the other members of Beast, which is spearheaded by drummer/composer Jean-Phi Goncalves. She really puts a lot of muscle and passion into her singing. I also heard a couple of songs by Mother Mother when I first walked into the party. And afterward, I caught just a couple of songs by Beach House at another party.

See more photos from the daytime shows I attended March 18.

I started the evening by walking all the way over to the west end of the SXSW scene, the tent behind Opal Divine’s Freehouse, where the Icelandic band Sprengjuhöllin was getting ready to play. This was one of the acts I was anticipating the most, since I really like the mix of pop, folk and psychedelia on the group’s self-titled album, which I discovered through e-music. Plus, this is one of those bands from a distant (and bankrupt) land that may or may not show up again on these shores anytime soon. The band was still playing when I sent a tweet in past tense — 8:39 p.m.: Sprengjuhöllin was really great. And they have that weird Icelandic sense of humor. They really did deliver everything I was hoping.

In addition to playing excellent music, Sprengjuhöllin had some of the most entertaining stage banter I heard all week. The people of Iceland do seem to have an odd sense of humor. Near the end of the show, one of the guys in Sprengjuhöllin said, “We’re going to play a few more numbers.” Another member of the band interjected, “We mean mathematical numbers, not songs.” We also received a lesson in Icelandic pronunciation, as one of the musicians broke down Sprengjuhöllin syllable by syllable and led the audience in a chant of his band’s name. Here’s the Sprengjuhöllin song “Worry Till Spring.”

Photos of Sprengjuhöllin.

9:38 p.m.: My first Melodica sighting of this year’s sxsw: Johnny Goudie.

I didn’t see that one coming. I was keeping an eye open for Melodicas, wondering if those little keyboards you blow into had fallen out of fashion yet in the world of indie rock. Apparently not. But Goudie, who was playing with his backup band, the Little Champions, seemed like an unlikely Melodica guy. He’s a little too adult contemporary for such a twee instrument. I liked the song I’d heard by Goudie, “Battlescar,” but the rest of the songs I heard during his live performance at the Tap at 6 were a little too mundane for my tastes. He’s got a good voice, though.

10:34 p.m.: Loch Lomond is doing a nice set of folk rock: 7 players, violas & such, soft harmonies.

This was one of many large ensembles playing at SXSW this year. I like these groups with lots of fiddles, horns and drumming in addition to the traditional rock instruments. In the case of Loch Lomond, from Portland, Ore., the sound is more toward the mellow folk-rock end of the spectrum. This was beautiful music I plan to listen to more in the future. Here’s the Loch Lomond song “Blue Lead Fences.”

11:02 p.m.: Ugh. A venue where the bar is between the stage and audience: Aces Lounge. Not good. … 11:17 p.m.: Yes, Aces is a horrible venue but worth visiting just now to see Grant Hart.

This was a chance to finally see former Hüsker Dü member Grant Hart, who has been a lot less visible in the music world than his ex-bandmate Bob Mould. Playing alone with an electric guitar in the middle of this hideous bar, as bartenders rang up orders at his feet, Hart performed strong versions of some of his best songs from Hüsker Dü, including “No Promise Have I Made,” “Don’t Want to Know If You’re Lonely” and “Green Eyes” as well as his solo song “2541.” In between songs, Hart tossed out some bitter, sarcastic comments, criticizing BMI, sympathizing with Austinites who have to put up with SXSW and suggesting that the audience should build a bonfire in the middle of Sixth Street.

12:57 a.m.: Mark David Ashworth just played beautiful acoustic music at Austin’s Hideout.

This singer-songwriter from San Francisco (a former Austin resident) has a terrific voice and good songs. I really enjoyed his performance, which I put on my list after hearing his songs at www.myspace.com/markdavidashworth.

2:12 a.m.: Finished the night w/Mumford & Sons, lively bunch of Brit folkies, then a bit of Mexico City’s Los Fancy Free, who seemed a bit nuts.

Mumford & Sons are from London, but they are stepped in the sounds of acoustic American music. As one of the remarked during Wednesday’s show at Friends, “We’re not saying we can play bluegrass better than you, but it’s fun to play.” The jetlagged band was missing its keyboard player (some sort of travel delay), and playing without having slept in 23 hours, but it still sounded sprightly and melodic. And it wasn’t a pure imitation of American folk and country music — I also picked up an English drinking-hall songs vibe.

& Sons finished a little after 1:30 a.m., which gave me enough to time to wander off in search of another band finishing up. I ended up watching a few songs by Los Fancy Free from Mexico City at the Habana Bar Backyard. The band was putting on a very lively show of psychedelic punk rock, prompting a small but enthusiastic crowd to shout “¡Otra!” (Although I did not get to hear it on this occasion, this is the same band that does a 10-minute “psych-out” version of Dire Straits’ “Sultans of Swing.” You can hear that on myspace.)

More photos of the shows I saw the night of March 18.

SXSW Diary Part 2: Jarvis Cocker Lecture

This was a real kick, seeing former Pulp singer Jarvis Cocker give a full-blown lecture on the art of lyric writing along with a PowerPoint presentation and video clips of songs of performers ranging from the Kingsmen to Leonard Cohen. This guy could be a pop-music professor. He was witty and insightful, even when he was making somewhat obvious points, such as when he presented his musical formula: “Music + Lyrics + Performance = Dynamite!”

What was the first song that had a big impact on the young Cocker, making him realize that song lyrics could make you see pictures in your mind? I wouldn’t have guessed this one, but it was Gordon Lightfoot’s “If I Could Read Your Mind.” Cocker played that song and then sat down with an acoustic guitar to play the first song he ever wrote, a silly ditty from 1978:

Got a baby only one thing wrong
She quotes Shakespeare all day long
Said baby why you ignoring me?
She said “To be or not to be”
Shakespeare Rock, Shakespeare Roll
Shakespeare Rock, Shakespeare Roll

Finishing the tune, Cocker asked sarcastically, “Very touching, isn’t it?”

Cocker told about an argument he’d had with Noel Gallagher of Oasis, who insisted that the lyrics to the Beatles’ “I Am the Walrus” are utterly meaningless. Cocker, on the other hand, says the lyrics do have meaning, as well as some subtle internal rhyming schemes. The nonsense is a meaning in itself, he said — “a refusal to play the game, to engage in the charade.”

Should songs rhyme? For the most part, Cocker said yes. But he warned aspiring lyricists against becoming “rhyme-whores.” As an example of what can happen when you try too hard to come up with a rhyme, Cocker performed a hilarious karaoke version of the Des’ree song “Life,” which was voted the worst lyric of all time in a BBC poll. The song’s most egregious rhymes are the following: “I don’t want to see a ghost/It’s the sight I fear the most/I’d rather have a piece of toast.”

Another example of a bad rhyme, according to Cocker, is the ABC song “That Was Then,” which includes this couplet: “Can’t complain, mustn’t grumble, help yourself to another piece of apple crumble.” But then Cocker talked about how he loves a similar sort of reference in Nick Cave’s “Abbatoir Blues”:

Everything’s dissolving, babe, according to plan
The sky is on fire, the dead are heaped across the land
I went to bed last night and my moral code got jammed
I woke up this morning with a Frappucino in my hand

“What is it,” Cocker asked, “that distinguishes Nick Cave’s Frappucino from [ABC singer] Martin Fry’s apple crumble or Des’ree’s toast?” Cocker pointed out that Cave put the Frapuccino in the middle of a line, instead of sticking it at the end. It’s not part of the rhyming scheme, so it’s clear that Cave deliberately chose to include this iced coffee drink in his lyrics. He wasn’t throwing it in there just because he needed a rhyme. “There is no whiff of desperation in his Frapuccino,” Cocker explained.

Are song lyrics poetry? Despite many similarities between the two forms, Cocker said no. As an example, he played an acoustic version of the Pulp song “Babies,” pointing out an important element of the lyrics that would just look silly on the page — “Yeah, yeah, yeah…”

After playing clips of some songs he loves and admires — Dory Previn’s “The Lady With the Braid,” Scott Walker’s “Plastic Palace People,” Hot Chocolate’s “Emma,” the Velvet Underground’s “Heroin” and the Fall’s “Wings,” among others — Cocker took apart the lyrics to “You’re Beautiful” by James Blunt. “Attacking this song is like shooting fish in a barrel, but I’m going to do it anyway,” he said.

As Cocker pointed out, one of the big flaws in Blunt’s lyrics is the way he describes seeing a woman with another man in the first verse, announcing, “I’ve got a plan.” But then he never says what exactly his plan to win over this woman is. Blunt concludes: “It’s time to face the truth, I will never be with you.” Cocker responds: “Can you believe it? There was no plan. It was a LIE!”

Cocker concluded this entertaining lecture/show/performance with one more acoustic performance, a cover of Leonard Cohen’s song “Tonight Will Be Fine.” And then he noted that the magic of good song lyrics is that “the personal becomes universal.”

The text of Cocker’s lecture and some questions he answered at a previous appearance at the Brighton Festival in England, along with some of the video clips he used, are up at http://www.acrylicafternoons.com/jarvisonsong.html

Photos of Jarvis Cocker’s lecture.

SXSW Diary Part 1: March 17

Twitter, 12:29 p.m.: I’ve arrived in Austin. Absolutely beautiful weather. Rode on the same plane with some guys wearing lots of hair gel and spotted pants. (That turned out to be Angry Vs. the Bear, a band from Essex, England.)

The music portion of SXSW does not officially start until Wednesday, so on Tuesday I spent a relaxing afternoon wandering around downtown Austin.

4:01 p.m.: First grackle spotting of this visit to Austin. First of many, I’m sure. (Downtown Austin sometimes seems to be overrun with these birds.)

4:42 p.m.: Looking at an exhibit by sound artist Trimpin. Insert quarter & a song plays on wooden shoes.

4:57 p.m.: Some pretty good street music: The Ferocious Few. A bit like Steve Earle.

5:16 p.m.: Just visited Austin’s Museum of the Weird. Saw 2-headed chickens, calves. Jackalope. Texas Bigfoot. (This place, at the rear of the Lucky Lizard gift shop, is a pretty cool tribute to the dime museums that were popular more than a century ago.)

5:29 p.m.: New sxsw venue Zone Perfect: Yellowest room ever? 5:43 p.m.: … It’s a venue and a gallery. And it has its own brand of nutrition bar. Seems like a bit much. Angie Mattson was singing smooth singer-songwriter music when I stopped inside this odd Zone Perfect venue, which felt like an annoying corporate contrivance or some sort of thought-control experiment. As Mattson paused between songs, the venue’s young female staffers shouted “Zone Perfect!” like cheerleaders. That was my signal to vamoose.

After dinner at Serrano’s with some of the fine folks I’ve met through the Postcard From Hell mailing list, I headed off in search of a few of the bands on my “to see” list.

9:45 p.m.: NZ punkers Bang! Bang! Eche! very energetic. I almost got clobbered by singer jumping off stage. That was no exaggeration. These very young-looking lads from New Zealand played loud, energetic dance-punk and jumped all over the place at Friends. Neither I nor my camera were injured in the collision. I enjoyed this set and I’ll be checking out more music by Bang! Bang! Eche!. The songs seemed fairly smart beneath all the racket. Here’s their track “4 to the Floor.”

12:11 a.m.: Finished my night in Austin at Music Gym co-op. Loxsly played a good set of slightly psychedelic art rock, a bit like Midlake. Now, this was a strange venue — a building and tent near the Interstate that local bands apparently use as a rehearsal space. I got the feeling that I’d crashed a small party where everyone in the small audience was a friend of someone on stage. The first band I saw, Eddy Highway, was a little generic but I sensed some good songwriting. The next band was Loxsly, which I’d wanted to see after hearing the song “As the Constellation’s Arms Uncurled.” This Austin group played some nice music with artsy keyboard and guitar textures. They seem to have great potential.

More photos from March 17 in Austin.

SXSW roundup

My overview of South By Southwest is up on the Pioneer Press Web site. I’m posting my SXSW diary here — including annotated versions of the Twitter/Facebook updates I posted while I was in Austin. Pictures are up in the photo galleries. And later on, I’ll post a list of my favorite SXSW acts.

What to see at SXSW?

For anyone seeking ideas on what bands to see at SXSW, I’ve posted my schedule — or rather, my list of possible things to see. This includes official showcases, day parties (some of them invite-only, some of them free and open to the public) and a few conference events, all arranged chronologically. My picks for the best possibilities are marked with asterisks, but just about anything on this list has a good chance of being good.

I posted it as a text file at: https://www.undergroundbee.com/2009sxswsched.txt.

Human Highway and Handsome Furs

I’m here in Austin now for SXSW, but before I get too immersed in all the madness, I’m catching up on a couple of concerts I saw over the weekend. Both of these bands would be on my list of groups to see at SXSW if I hadn’t seen them in Chicago already. Human Highway, a Canadian duo featuring Nick Thorburn of Islands and Jim Guthrie), played Saturday night at the Empty Bottle, putting a real ’60s flair into their harmony-heavy pop songs. The group’s debut CD, Moody Motorcycle, has been getting a lot of spins this year on my stereo. Check out Human Highway’s song “The Sound” here.

Photos of Human Highway.

I was back at the Bottle Sunday night to see another Canadian duo, the Handsome Furs, who released one of my favorite 2007 albums, Plague Park. Don Boeckner (who’s also in Wolf Parade) cranks out tuneful songs on his electric guitar and sings with gusto while his wife, Alexi Perry, rocks her drum machine and tiny electronic keyboard. And she does rock it. The tension between the rock guitar and the electronic beats really drives this duo’s music. And you don’t have to be a fan of most electronic music to appreciate what Boeckner and Perry are up to. I’ve been delinquent in getting the new CD by the Handsome Furs, Face Control, but I heard a lot of performed live Sunday night, and the songs just vibrant. Boeckner and Perry pour everything into their live performances, and they seemed genuinely and pleasantly surprised by the very enthusiastic response they received from an audience of adoring Chicago fans.

Photos of the Handsome Furs.

Heading to SXSW

I’ll soon be on my way to Austin, Texas, for my annual trek to the South By Southwest Music Conference. After listening to more than 1,000 mp3’s posted at www.sxsw.com (well, I listened to at least a little bit of each song, skipping past the ones I obviously wasn’t going to like) as well as visiting many of the myspace pages for bands without any posted mp3, I narrowed down the list to … a mere 450 bands I want to see! Well, that’s going to be impossible, obviously. But I hope to see maybe a tenth of those groups and follow up on some of the other bands by getting their CDs or seeing them later in Chicago. It’s a good way to get an overview of what’s happening in music this year.

Don’t expect extensive reports here on my blog this week. I may post a few quick reports, but most of the reviews and photos will be coming next week once the whole hectic thing is over. I plan to send updates to my Twitter page, which also go to my Facebook page. I may also post some photos on flickr.

I haven’t had a chance to post reviews of a couple of noteworthy concerts I saw over the past weekend, but maybe soon. Human Highway put on a really nice show of harmony-laden ’60s-style pop Saturday night at the Empty Bottle, and back at the same venue on Sunday night, the Handsome Furs were awesome — very fun and lively. My Handsome Furs pictures are up in the photo galleries.

Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy at the Vic

Bonnie “Prince” Billy (a.k.a. Will Oldham) is a great enigma, an artist who’s hard to explain, with a walrus mustache that seems to hide half his face. He tends to hide from public exposure, too, though he did some interviews recently to coincide with the release of his new album, Beware. The Jan. 5 feature story in The New Yorker gave a fascinating glimpse of what it’s like hanging out with Oldham in his hometown of Louisville, along with the strange information that his musical idols are Leonard Cohen, Merle Haggard and R. Kelly. But as with any piece of writing about Oldham, the article still left you feeling like you don’t really know this guy or what makes him tick.
(He was also interviewed recently on NPR.)

Maybe his fans, including me, are just building up this sense of mystique around Oldham. But even if he weren’t such a mysterious man, his music would deserve the mythology. I’m still filling in some of the holes in my collection of Oldham music (he has released a lot of records over the years under various names), but it’s clear to me that he is one of our great songwriters today. His previous two albums, The Letting Go and Lie Down in the Light, ranked among my favorites of recent years, and the newest one, Beware, seems destined for similar greatness after a few listens. This one’s a typical mix of Oldham’s folk and country music, along with some peculiar touches of strings and horns. At times, it veers into the ornate orchestral territory of Astral Weeks or Nick Drake’s more symphonic music.

Oldham played Saturday night (March 14) at the Vic Theatre, his first concert in Chicago since a 2006 show at the Portage Theatre, and this one was a doozy. He had a terrific band playing behind him, including a couple of very talented musicians I often see around Chicago, Emmett Kelly on guitar and Josh Abrams on bass. Cheyenne Mize played violin and sang all the female leads and harmony parts, and one of the best percussionists around, Jim White, played drums. It’s a music-critic cliché to call music “organic,” but that is the best word I can think of to describe what this band was doing. The songs seemed to grow on the stage right in front of us, as Kelly played figures on his guitar halfway between melodic leads and rhythmic chords and the rest of the musicians fell into patterns they seemed to be inventing on the spot. They looked to each other for cues on what to do next, as if they were still learning these songs, but it never sounded unrehearsed in a sloppy way.

Oldham moved with peculiar gestures, kicking his legs backwards, flailing his arms. Are these actorly affectations or examples of the natural way he dances and expresses himself? Oldham is an actor as well as a singer, so one wonders how much of his stage manners are a planned performance and how much is spontaneous. Wherever those moves come from, they’re odd. Oldham clearly hasn’t read the official manual on how rock stars are supposed to move onstage, but he’s all the better for it. He comes across as a guy who lacks some of the inhibitions normal people feel, someone who’s not afraid of making a fool of himself.

The concert got off to a strong start, but then it turned into something truly exceptional when Oldham played his sixth song of the night, “Blood Embrace.” Beginning in a hush, the song built to a dramatic crescendo, and Oldham looked as if he was being transported by the magic. Jim White knocked over one of his cymbals as the song crashed to an end.

A few songs later, Bonnie “Prince” Billy played “A Minor Place” from his classic album I Saw a Darkness, and the band made that song sound like the anthem it deserves to be, the backup musicians blending their voices in woozy gospel harmonies. The way Kelly was playing the chords, it almost sounded like the band was about to break out into a cover of Elvis Presley’s “Suspicious Minds.”

Oldham followed up that song with “The Seedling” and “I Called You Back,” both from The Letting Go, and it become clear that this was one show where the performer was pouring everything he had into his songs. He did not let up, either. A little while later, as he let the band play an instrumental break in “Even If Love,” Oldham raised his eyes toward the ceiling. He seemed to be shaking all over. Then he broke the spell by asking sardonically, “What do you have to do to get a disco ball turned on?” (The Vic’s lighting guy responded with a disco-ball-like effect, though the actual ball itself never did light up.)

After this amazing performance, I’m still not sure who Bonnie “Prince” Billy is, but I don’t have any doubts about his talents.

SETLIST (missing a couple of song titles)
Sheep (from Ease Down the Road)
Hard Life (from Master and Everyone)
You Are Lost (from Beware)
How About Thank You (from a new 10-inch record)
A King at Night (from Ease Down the Road)
Blood Embrace (from Superwolf)
Lay and Love (from The Letting Go)
Where is the Puzzle? (from Lie Down in the Light)
I Send My Love to You (from Sings Greatest Palace Music)
A Minor Place (from I See a Darkness)
The Seedling (from The Letting Go)
I Called You Back (from The Letting Go)
Without Work, You Have Nothing (from Beware)
Beware Your Only Friend (from Beware)
Careless Love (from Ease Down the Road)
Even If Love (from Master and Everyone)
You Want That Picture (from Lie Down in the Light)
?
Nomadic Revery (All Around) (from I See a Darkness)
I’ll Be Glad (from Lie Down in the Light)
ENCORE
You Don’t Love Me (from Beware)
?
Nobody’s Darling on Earth (cover)

(Sorry, no photos!)

Rocking to Warhol films

Andy Warhol’s films raise the question of what exactly you’re supposed to do with them. Are they regular “films” meant to be seen in a movie theater? Or some other sort of art? In today’s art world, they’d probably be seen more in line with the video art that you see in galleries or posted on the Web than anything you would sit down to watch with a bucket of popcorn.

It seemed especially apt when the “screen tests” Warhol filmed showing the members of the Velvet Underground staring at the camera were displayed in the 2007 exhibit “Sympathy for the Devil: Art and Rock and Roll Since 1967,” at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago. Walking through the galleries, you saw these faces looking out at you from the wall, not still enough to be paintings, not quite animated enough to be movies. They were the living equivalent of a two-dimensional photographic portrait.

More of those screen tests — a sample of the 300 four-minute films Warhol made of various people looking into the camera — were back at the MCA Saturday night (March 7). This time, they were on a big screen in the theater, a bit more like a trip to the cinema. But this was a concert, not a movie. Or maybe it was both. Dean & Britta were playing thirteen songs to accompany those black-and-white faces, in a project commissioned by the Andy Warhol Museum called 13 Most Beautiful … Songs for Andy Warhol’s Screen Tests. Warhol used to show some of these movies at performances by the Velvet Underground and Nico, so it seems like the late pop artist would probably approve of this latest use for his footage.

And Dean & Britta are a good choice to carry it out. It’s been obvious ever since Dean Wareham was in Galaxie 500 — and all throughout his recordings with Luna and Dean & Britta — that the Velvet Underground are his major musical influence. At last night’s show, Dean & Britta sounded more like the V.U. than ever. Other than a few loud moments, they stayed on the more delicate end of the V.U. groove, with that trademark sound of tamped-down urgency pulsing underneath the chords. While Wareham and Britta Phillips don’t sound precisely like Lou Reed and Nico when they sing, their languid vocals were a close-enough approximation to set the right mood for the screen tests. Some of the songs (including originals as well as covers) were instrumental; in some, the vocals were almost incidental. Wareham’s guitar was the musical star of the night.

But the real stars were those faces — Richard Rheem, Ann Buchanan, Paul America, Edie Sedgwick, Billy Name, Susan Bottomly, Dennis Hopper, Mary Woronow, Nico, Freddy Herko, Ingrid Superstar, Lou Reed and Jane Holzer. As the films flared in and out of view, the faces stared out at us, like people looking at themselves in the mirror. Some of them did little more than stare, and one’s attention wandered away from the screen. Then the eyes would blink and you would remember that that wasn’t just a still photo projected behind the band. Some of the subjects were more lively. Reed, wearing cool shades, slurped at a Coke bottle. (For that film, Dean & Britta played “Not a Young Man Anymore,” an old V.U. song that surfaced in bootleg concert recordings.) Hopper kept glancing down and then back up, seemingly fighting off an urge to laugh or reveal some other emotion, his eyes fluttering.

Nico acted as if it wasn’t a screen test at all, but rather a casual moment captured by a surreptitious camera. But then she made it clear that she really was playing for the camera when she rolled up a magazine and held it to her eye like a telescope. (For that film, Dean & Britta played “I’ll Keep It With Mine,” which Bob Dylan wrote with Nico in mind.) In the final film of the show, Jane Holzer brushed her teeth for all of us to see.

13 Most Beautiful… is coming out on DVD from Plexifilm, and Wareham suggested the video musical tracks would be perfect to watch on an iPod or cell phone. That does seem like the sort of art-dissemination system Warhol would have liked. You can watch the trailer here on youtube.

Photos of Dean & Britta performing at the MCA.

O’Neill Festival at the Goodman

The Eugene O’Neill festival now in its final days at Chicago’s Goodman Theatre wasn’t exactly designed as an introduction to this great American playwright. Nor was it a celebration of his best and most famous works. Long Day’s Journey Into Night and The Iceman Cometh were nowhere to be seen on the schedule. But it was a fascinating exploration of O’Neill’s work — filled with unusual and even daring stagings of several plays. Never was it dull, that’s for sure. It ranks up there with the other festivals the Goodman has hosted in recent years focusing on other playwrights, including David Mamet and Edward Albee. (Alas, I missed most of the 2008 festival of plays by Horton Foote, who just passed way.) None of these festivals have been anywhere near comprehensive — that would be just be a huge undertaking for these prolific writers — but they’ve all offered a terrific chance to see plays that aren’t produced all that often.

The full name of the O’Neill festival gives an apt description of what artistic director Robert Falls was going for: “A Global Exploration: Eugene O’Neill in the 21st Century.” It was truly global, with companies from Brazil and the Netherlands performing as well as Chicago and New York theater groups. And it did feel very much like a 21st century interpretation of this quintessentially 20th century playwright.

The festival ends with director Greg Allen and the Neo-Futurists tackling Strange Interlude, a nine-act, nearly six-hour drama in which the characters speak many of their thoughts aloud. It’s hard to believe this play was one of the biggest commercial hits of O’Neill’s lifetime when it was on Broadway in 1928. Maybe the novelty of it connected with audiences back then. Now, it just seems incredibly ponderous — a script in need of some severe editing. If anyone could pull off a post-modern deconstruction of Strange Interlude, it’s the Neo-Futurists, who did a wonderful show a few years back consisting of the final two minutes of every Ibsen play.

Their fractured take on Strange Interlude opened Friday night, with just two more performances after that. Amazingly enough, it did seem to hold most of the audience’s attention for its long span — except for that disgruntled purist who caused a disturbance by yelling out his disapproval during the first intermission. I believe he said, “Why are you butchering this play?” or something along those lines. Well, to be honest, it’s a play that deserves a lot of cuts and changes.

The Neo-Futurists played this tragedy for laughs, reading many of O’Neill’s absurdly specific stage directions aloud. The entire performance was a sarcastic commentary on the script itself. And a great deal of it was very funny, with the audience laughing so much at times that the actors had to pause in delivering their lines. The humor went beyond spoofing O’Neill, incorporating some surprising bits of physical humor. What’s really impressive is that the actors and the audience were able to keep up the laughter for almost six hours. Truth to be told, the whole experience would have been easier to absorb if it were condensed down to a third of its length, but then it wouldn’t have been Strange Interlude, would it? Actually, was that play I saw on Friday really Strange Interlude? Perhaps it should have been retitled Stranger Interlude for this occasion.

The headline show of the festival was Desire Under the Elms, directed by Falls and starring Brian Dennehy, Pablo Schreiber and Carla Gugino. (It’s now moving to Broadway.) This turned out to be one of those productions that people either loved or hated. I loved it. Sure, I can see how smaller, less bombastic stagings of O’Neill script work fine, but Fall’s almost operatic epic was staggeringly big. The silent opening sequence showing the brothers hauling boulders was mesmerizing. The actors were intense and passionate. The trims in the script helped the whole story to flow like some fever dream, as Falls said he intended.

The festival also included the Wooster Group’s controversial production of The Emperor Jones, with Kate Valk as the lead character — cross-dressing and in blackface. Why do blackface in 2009? Well, O’Neill’s script has more than its share of dated racial stereotypes, but it is certainly a play of at least some historical interest. So how do you stage it in 2009? The Wooster Group’s solution is a radical sort of commentary on blackface and racial types. The fact that Valk was also changing genders for the role seemed to emphasis that her performance was as much of a comment on the O’Neill play as it was an attempt to transform herself into this character. As a spectacle, the show was an assault on the senses. The play’s language was difficult to follow, but the picture of what I saw onstage will remain in my memory a long time.

The Hypocrites and director Sean Graney performed The Hairy Ape, with an almost frighteningly visceral performance by Chris Sullivan. The play’s message about the gap between the rich and the working class is didactic, but Graney’s staging was just subversive enough that it delivered the message effectively without sarcastically undercutting it. The main thing, though, was Sullivan, whose final moments of blood and torment left me shaken.

I saw two of the three “Sea Plays” performed by the Brazilian group Companhia Triptal, Zona de Guerra (In the Zone and Cardiff (Bound East for Cardiff). (I missed Longa Viagem de Volta pra Casa (The Long Voyage Home).) The actors seemed like real sailors who had somehow become stranded inside this theater thousands of miles from their homes in Sao Paolo. At each of the plays I saw, they were singing sea shanties off stage as the audience came into the theater. Zona de Guerra effectively built up a sense of paranoia among the sailors. Cardiff was an intriguing theatrical adventure — but the lack of supertitles in that show made it difficult to follow along as the actors delivered the dialogue in Portuguese. The audience walked onto the stage for one scene and then went upstairs with the actors into a rehearsal room for the final scene. I enjoyed exploring the Goodman building during this show and watching the expressions on the faces of the actors. I just wish I’d understood what they were saying. I did read the synopsis beforehand, but that’s not the same thing.

The crowning moment of the whole festival, to me, was another play in a foreign language: Toneelgroep Amsterdam’s Rouw Siert Electra (Mourning Becomes Electra). It helped that the English supertitles were positioned on a wall behind the actors at just the right level to make it easy to read the words and watch the action simultaneously. And the lines were in close synch.

Directed by Ivo Van Hove, this production of Mourning came to Chicago about a week after The New York Times savagely ripped apart a different production of the same O’Neill play in New York. Whatever went wrong with that production, this one in Dutch was utterly amazing. Like many of the other post-modern shows in the Goodman’s O’Neill festival, Mourning had its share of stunts that distanced the audience somewhat from the material. An actor writing and drawing on an overhead projector. Characters exchanging some of their dialogue via instant messaging. The actors beginning each act with a ritual removing of their shoes. These are the sorts of stage devices that literally shout out to the audience, “What you’re watching is just a play!” But the real trick here was that the actors were completely believable, the emotions so deep in their faces and bodies that it was hard to see any line between the character’s skin and the actor inside. The drama came to life in physical gestures — as when one character slaps another, and then slaps again. And again and again. Like a jolt to the audience itself. The entire cast was excellent, but Halina Reijn’s manic-depressive, startlingly transformative performance as Lavinia Mannon deserves singling out. I don’t know when I’ll ever see Reijn or the other actors in this Amsterdam company perform again, but if I get the chance, I won’t miss it.

PHOTOS:
Hans Kesting and Halina Reijn in Rouw Siert Electra (Mourning Becomes Electra). Photo by Jan Versweyveld.
Jeremy Sher, Merrie Greenfield and Joe Dempsey in Strange Interlude. Photo by Eric Y. Exit.

Loney Dear at Schubas

Loney Dear is one of the best musical acts out of Sweden right now, and given how much great music is coming from Sweden, that’s saying a lot. Loney Dear (which is basically one guy, Emil Svanängen, with a backing band) came to Schubas Sunday night (March 1), playing a fabulous little show in the midst of a tour where most of Loney Dear’s gigs have been opening for Andrew Bird.

I’m just getting familiar with the songs on the new Loney Dear album, Dear John, but they were instantly infectious when Loney Dear played them on the Schubas stage. At its core, this music is gentle and pretty folk rock, with Svanängen singing soothing and lilting melodies in a falsetto. But Loney Dear has a more expansive sound than that, mixing in some electronics and upbeat rock rhythms. A cursory listen to Loney Dear’s records might lead you to expect a gossamer-thin sound, but the band was actually fairly loud and energetic Sunday night – but oh so quiet when Svanängen moved off-mike during two songs to sing and play his acoustic guitar without amplification.

The crowd sang along to the harmonies, and Svanängen was charmingly modest as he expressed his wonder at the reception his music was getting. The audience demanded two encores, and Loney Dear finished the night with “Sinister in a State of Hope,” one of my favorite songs from the 2007 album Loney, Noir. It was a joyous concert, one of those beautiful nights when bards and players from some distant land alight in our fair city to strum their guitars in one of our little rooms.
www.loneydear.com / myspace.com/loneydear

It was nice to see opening act Anni Rossi again – just nine days after she opened for Deer Tick and Future Clouds and Radar at the Empty Bottle – with a more respectful audience. This time, people actually listened as she performed her quirky, uncoventional music on vocals and viola, including an Ace of Bass cover. myspace.com/annirossi

Photos of Loney Dear and Anni Rossi.

Aqueduct and Foundry

Aqueduct headlined Friday (Feb. 27) at Schubas. I’ve seen this band (i.e. David Terry) three times now and listened to its/his 2007 album Or Give Me Death, and I’m still not sure exactly what to make of Aqueduct. Terry has some catchy melodies, and a good sense of humor, but he also has a tendency toward cheesiness. That’s part of the humor, I guess, but I wonder what Terry would be capable of if he held back on the jokes for one night. Anyway, Aqueduct drew a very enthusiastic, young crowd Friday with a number of fans dancing wildly. So I guess he must be doing something right.

The first band of the night was Light Pollution. I see so many bands that I sometimes forget who I’ve seen, and Light Pollution was one band that rang a slight bell in my memory. But I couldn’t quite recall whether I’d seen Light Pollution before. Later, I had to check my own blog’s archive here to figure out that I’d seen Light Pollution opening for Malajube at the Empty Bottle in 2007. Seeing them again, I enjoyed their jangly sound.

Second up was the Foundry Field Recordings, from Columbia, Missouri. The main guy in this band, Billy Schuh, had a new set of backing players with him, who are also in a band called Bald Eagle (not DJ Bald Eagle, as they pointed out). I liked their music, which had a bit of a 1980s XTC feel to it.

Photos of Aqueduct, the Foundry Field Recordings and Light Pollution.

Deer Tick and Future Clouds

Concerts feel a little strange when you’re there to see one band and everyone else seems to be there for one of the other acts. That was the case Friday (Feb. 20) at the Empty Bottle. I was eager to see Future Clouds and Radar for the first time, having enjoyed the catchy studio recordings by this Austin band. They weren’t headliners, though, and it was obvious that just about everyone was there to see Deer Tick. In fact, a few of the Deer Tick fans were so impatient for the main act that they yelled out some rude comments near the end of the Future Clouds set, casting a sour mood over the whole show for me.

The evening got started with Anni Rossi, who sang and played viola, struggling to be noticed above the loud chattering from the bar. She played only four or five songs, which sounded promising and intriguing, but the Bottle’s crowd noise was a huge distraction.

Future Clouds and Radar, led by former Cotton Mather frontman Robert Harrison, plays power pop with some psychedelic touches, reminding me of artists like XTC and Robyn Hitchcock. As a live band, they were pretty good, but the songs didn’t have quite as much sparkle or power as they should have. The band also needs to work a bit on the pacing of its show. I think the Deer Tick fans started to get restless near the end because Future Clouds was playing a pretty long set for an opening band and taking its time in between songs.

I had completely missed the Deer Tick phenomenon until ending this show, so I was a bit surprised to see how rabidly enthusiastic some of the fans were. Leader John McCauley seemed a bit shocked, too. Maybe he should play in Chicago more often. The crowd sang along with several of Deer Tick’s country and bluegrass-infused rock songs. In spite of the fact that McCauley’s from Rhode Island, his music seemed more like Southern rock. I enjoyed the band’s energy, though I have to wonder why on earth they would choose to close their show with a cover of “La Bamba.”

Photos of Deer Tick, Future Clouds and Radar and Anni Rossi.

Thank You and Mi Ami

The new record by Mi Ami, Watersports, is full of shrieking vocals – that’s a man singing, not a woman, in case you’re confused. I was the first time I listened. Daniel Martin-McCormick’s high-pitched squeals sound like they’re bouncing off the tumbling, ticking drums and funky bass lines. Guitar and keyboard sounds flit in and out of the mix, sometimes shredding like punk rock, sometimes fluttering through the air. The songs stretch on longer than typical punk tunes, with a sense of musical exploration. Maybe art punk would be an apt description. Whatever you call Mi Ami’s music, it’s invigorating stuff, if a little extreme.

Mi Ami, a trio from San Francisco including two members of Black Eyes, delivered the goods with an energetic set last night (Feb. 17) at the AV-aerie in Chicago. My only complaint was the echoing acoustics of the venue – a Fulton Street loft with a very high ceiling, brick walls and windows looking out on the United Center and the El tracks over Damen.

Mi Ami was the second of three bands on the bill, which started out with a noisy drums-guitar duo with the jokey name Shred Aquarium. The headliner was Thank You, a group on Thrill Jockey that was well matched with Mi Ami. While all three members of this duo sing from time to time, the music feels largely instrumental to me. Or maybe it’s just that the voices are inside the mix. As with Mi Ami, there’s a sense that Thank You is exploring sounds. The Baltimore group has a fine record called Terrible Two out on the Thrill Jockey label.

Photos of Thank You, Mi Ami and Shred Aquarium.

Since Mi Ami is on Chicago’s venerable Quarterstick label (part of Touch and Go Records), I would be remiss if I failed to point out the news about Touch and Go. As the Chicago Tribune’s Greg Kot reports on his blog, Touch and Go is ending part of its business – the work it does distributing records for other labels. Touch and Go/Quarterstick are carrying on as record labels, but they’re also laying off some of their staff.

Mi Ami: www.myspace.com/miamiamiami

Thank You: www.thrilljockey.com/artists/index.html?id=11346

Jeff Tweedy at the Vic

As much as I like Wilco and everything that band does to flesh out Jeff Tweedy’s songs, there’s still something special and extraordinary about seeing Tweedy perform a solo concert. It’s strange how his music flows along these two parallel paths: acoustic music, usually heard only in concert, and band arrangements of the same songs, heard in studio recordings and Wilco concerts.

Tweedy played two solo gigs for a variety of charities over the weekend at Chicago’s Vic Theatre, and I caught the second of these shows, on Saturday (Feb. 14). Tweedy mostly played a set of songs requested by the first 30 people who were standing in line outside the theater. And as he noted, those people tend to be the geekiest of fans, so their requests skewed strongly toward obscure Tweedy songs not found on the main Wilco albums. It was a B-side sort of concert, which was fine with me. It’s cool to hear some of these rarely played tunes.

Tweedy’s guitar playing and singing were in fine form. I especially enjoyed “Spiders (kidsmoke),” which Tweedy played in a streamlined arrangement much shorter and more direct than the epic krautrock version that ended up on the album A Ghost Is Born. I love this song in all its incarnations, but hearing it again in its acoustic form was a vivid reminder of the song’s roots.

We heard a couple of new songs, which will apparently be on the Wilco album coming out this summer. Tweedy joked that the band is thinking of calling the record either Diver Down or Van Halen II.

Tweedy also played several covers, including Radiohead’s “Fake Plastic Trees,” which he has been doing lately. I always associated Wilco and Radiohead for some reason — maybe just because they are two popular bands, one from the U.S. and one from the U.K., that are constantly pushing their music in new directions — and so it felt great to hear Tweedy playing a song normally associated with Thom Yorke. He made it sound like a Tweedy song, hitting those high notes in his own distinctive hoarse falsetto. The other covers included the Stooges’ “I Wanna Be Your Dog,” which Uncle Tupelo recorded years back, Bob Dylan’s “Simple Twist of Fate,” and that old Tweedy favorite, Bill Fay’s “Be Not So Fearful.”

Like every Tweedy solo concert, this one featured more than its share of shouted song requests and comments from the audience, including one obviously drunken joker who twice bellowed out a request for “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida.” That prompted some cutting responses from Tweedy, who knows how to handle a heckler. (“Guys who yell out things at rock concerts don’t ever get laid,” he noted.) Still, Tweedy’s replies only seemed to encourage more ridiculous shouts from some parts of the crowd. As much as I enjoy seeing Tweedy banter with his fans, it would be nice to get through at least half of a concert without so much yacking.

According to the amazingly complete and interactive Wilco/Tweedy set-list database at wilcobase.com, Tweedy has been ending all of his recent solo shows by stepping up the front lip of the stage and playing at least one song without the usual amplification. On Saturday, the song that got this treatment was “Dreamer in My Dreams.” Singing without a mike is one way to get the crowd to shut up.

SET LIST:
New song (“You and I…”)
One By One
More Like the Moon
New song (“I Will, I Will…”)
Radio King
A Magazine Called Sunset
Simple Twist of Fate
Spiders (Kidsmoke)
The Long Cut
At My Window Sad and Lonely
So Much Wine (Butterfly)
I’m Always in Love
I’m the Man Who Loves You
New Madrid
Someday Soon
Blasting Fonda
Fake Plastic Trees
[break]
All The Same To Me
Pecan Pie
ELT
I Am Trying to Break Your Heart
Wilco the Song
The Ruling Class
I Wanna Be Your Dog
Jesus, Etc.
Be Not So Fearful
A Shot in the Arm
[encore]
Hoodoo Voodoo
California Stars
Dreamer in My Dreams

Big Ears Festival

Knoxville, Tennessee, was one weird place this past weekend. I can only assume this charming Southern city isn’t so avant-garde most of the time, but for three days, it hosted a new celebration of experimental music called the Big Ears Festival. I made the drive from Chicago because I was so intrigued by the diverse lineup. Where else could you see Philip Glass playing piano in the afternoon, with Dan Deacon sitting in the second row – and then see Deacon doing his Baltimore Round Robin dance party at the end of the night?

As far as music fests go, this one was pretty small-scale, with just a few venues and fairly small audience, but that coziness helped to make it special. Audiences actually listened to the music in nearly complete silence, even during the shows that took place in bars. And the festival featured several one-time collaborations between the artists who had traveled to Knoxville for the festival. That’s the sort of thing I’d love to see happen more often at other fests.

One of the highlights was the Saturday night concert at the Bijou Theatre by Antony and the Johnsons, with string players and rock band backing up this remarkable singer with arrangements that ranged from delicate chamber music to swinging, soulful pop. Antony’s idiosyncratic sense of humor came through in his stage banter – as well as one remarkable pause, with Antony sitting silently at the piano bench while everyone else waited and waited and waited for him to say something or play something. After some nervous tittering in the crowd, Antony finally launched into his song, “Twilight.” It was one of the most oddly dramatic moments I’ve seen in a concert. At another point, Antony remarked about Big Ears: “I wish we had something like this in New York. We don’t. It’s nice to have something like this in – ” He paused, as if hesitating to use the phrase he had in mind for Knoxville, then blurted it out ” – a chicken village.”

Ned Rothenburg made a similar remark during his set at the Square Room: “It’s amazing to be at a festival celebrating this kind of music in the middle of the United States.” But what exactly is “this kind of music”? Big Ears was not really about any one musical genre. It was like more like the Island of Misfit Musicians – stuff that just doesn’t fit in anywhere else.

Several of the acts play music that either drones or tends to stay in place, building on single chords or even single notes. Or just on the textures of sound. The acts in this category include Fennesz (aka Christian Fennesz), who played solo and then sat in with David Daniell and Tony Buck of the Necks for an improvisation. Fennesz also teamed up with Mark Linkous and Scott Minor of Sparklehorse for the festival finale on Sunday, which surrounded Linkous’ singing with walls of sound.

Daniell was all over the festival, too, also playing a solo set and a show with his band San Agustin, as well as a jam session at the closing-night party. Each time, he coaxed some amazing tones out of his guitar – amorphous chords and notes rather than typical guitar riffs and solos – that built up from placid beauty to fierce intensity.

There was also an element of jazz in the festival – or maybe it would be more accurate to say it was free-form improvisation on instruments typically associated with jazz. Rothenburg played clarinets and saxophones with a real sense of physicality, as if he were wrestling with the instruments to force them to make noises they’re not supposed to make. He also performed a set in collaboration with the Necks, who played piano, bass and drums with a similar sense of uninhibited musical exploration. Another mostly jazz artist at Big Ears was Jon Hassell, but even his music felt different from most jazz, with a sense of space and air in the intervals between Hassell’s trumpet and the notes of his backup players.

Pauline Oliveros, a pioneer in experimental music, showed how she has moved on from analog tape delay to laptop. She sent almost random notes from her accordion through the computer to eight channels of sound all around a gallery at the Knoxville Museum of Art. As they twisted into new shapes, the notes drifted around the museum.

A few of the performers at Big Ears played more traditional word-and-melody songs – the aforementioned Antony, as well as Larkin Grimm and Michael Gira. Even though their music came in a more conventional form, it fit in with the festival. All of these performers seemed like artists who lay their intentions bare whenever they do their songs in front of a microphone.

Dan Deacon and his collaborators in the Baltimore Round Robin basically put on a party by taking turns at spinning music, performing songs and goading the audience into dance moves. The participants included Matmos, who also played a set before Deacon, bridging the gap between the more experimental sonic texture crowd and the song crowd.

Philip Glass played several etudes for solo piano, his fingers almost effortlessly rolling into those patterns that are so familiar from his recordings. The slight imperfections in his playing were actually what made it so perfect. The theories behind Glass’ minimalism can be easily programmed into a synthesizer or MIDI program, but creating those patterns the old-fashioned way, one note at a time on a piano, and making them breathe with life, is another thing altogether. Wendy Sutter played the Glass composition “Songs and Poems for Cello” solo, and she also joined together with Glass on “The Orchard.” I was delighted to hear Glass play “Closing” from the album Glassworks, which was my original introduction to his music, during the encore.

In a separate category all their own, Negativland performed “It’s All in Your Head,” which is essentially a two-hour radio show – or audio collage. Or performance-art piece. The theme was God’s nonexistence, and Negativland plucked countless clips from radio and TV interviews, commercials, songs and movies to illustrate their theme, putting it all together in front of the audience with tapes, CDs, microphones and various electronic noise-making devices.

Big Ears was the sort of musical event that makes you wonder what music is, exactly. I’m sure some people wandering in off the street into some of these shows would have been baffled by some of the noises being made. Even if you didn’t appreciate or understand every single sound, it was interesting from beginning to end.

NOTES ON PHOTOGRAPHY: Oh, the travails of the concert photographer. A few minutes into the first set I was shooting Friday night (Fennesz), my Canon EOS 40D stopped working altogether. “Error 99.” That’s basically a message telling you that the camera won’t take any pictures and needs to go in for repairs. Thankfully, my friend Gavin Miller had a new camera, which he loaned me. This was one of the new point-and-shoots from Canon, the PowerShot SX110 IS. This camera worked pretty well whenever the lighting was halfway bright, but a lot of the Big Ears shows were dimly lit – and would have been challenging even with the 40D. So I did not end up with any Antony or Matmos photos at all that I care to share. Those shows were just too dark for photography. I did the best I could at other shows during the fest, and now I’m going to see about getting that 40D fixed.

Photos from the Big Ears Festival.

UPDATE (2/11/09): You can also see some of my photos from the Big Ears festival at Pitchfork, along with Grayson Currin’s review. See http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/article/news/149063-report-big-ears-festival-knoxville-tn-02-06-02-08-09

Patti Smith at the Block

A rock icon who hates being called a rock icon, Patti Smith, was at the Block Museum of Art in Evanston last night (Jan. 30), where director Steven Sebring’s documentary about her, “Patti Smith: Dream of Life,” was being shown. I was privileged to sit in on a press conference with her before the screening, where she played “In My Blakean Year” for this select audience of a dozen people or so. Toting her ever-present vintage Polaroid camera, Smith took photos of some audience members at the screening and handed the instant pictures to them.

The film is a kaleidoscopic, poetic portrait of Smith, and after the screening, Smith and Sebring answered questions from Jim DeRogatis and the audience. Smith played “In My Blakean Year” again for the full crowd, adding an extended introduction about being born in Chicago, living on Kedzie near Logan Square. She closed by reciting the lyrics of “People Have the Power” as a poem for President Obama. “President Obama,” she said in closing, “be a good man, and we will be a good people.”

I’ll post a link to the article I’m writing for Pioneer Press about Smith’s appearance later.

Photos of Patti Smith.

January concerts

It’s been a quiet month for concerts so far in Chicago. At least, it seems that way. I know I probably could have found a good dozen or more shows worth seeing, but maybe that bone-chilling cold has discouraged me from venturing out too often. That’s my only excuse for missing most of the Tomorrow Never Knows festival at Schubas, which is becoming the official start of the concert year in Chicago.

I did sneak in at the very end of the five-day fest, catching the Jan. 18 show. Headliners Bishop Allen put on a spirited set of their indie pop music. I thoroughly enjoyed one of the opening bands, Tulsa, which has prompted me to get their recordings via emusic. I like what I’ve heard so far – melodic rock, with some the jangly guitar of ’80s indie music, maybe a little bit of power pop. The other acts on the Jan. 18 bill were Vacations, who rattled around a lot of percussion, and the Donkeys, who have a decent sound but seem somewhat lacking as far as the songs themselves. At least, that’s my opinion.

See photos from Tomorrow Never Knows Day 5.

The next night (Jan. 19) I went to see Adele at Park West. My expectations were not all that high, since her CD, 19, strikes me as merely pretty good. But Adele won me over with her impressive voice and her unpretentious personality. Click here to read my review for the Southtown Star newspaper.

On Thursday (Jan. 23) I saw Annuals at the Empty Bottle. Boy, I’m not sure what happened to this band since the last time I saw them. Or maybe my memory of their show from a couple of years ago is clouded with the fog of passing time. I recall enjoying the energy of the Annuals, even if not too many of their songs stuck in my mind after hearing them. Back then, they seemed like one of countless indie-rock bands trying to channel some of that anarchic spirit that animated the Arcade Fire, even if Annuals never really sounded all that much like the Arcade Fire. On Thursday night, however, Annuals suddenly seemed to me like a jam band. Maybe it was the spastic bass lines or just the general vibe of how the band was playing, but it seemed like Annuals had gone through a subtle but profound shift… into a genre of music that generally turns my stomach. It’s one of those musical mysteries I puzzle over: how two songs that are similar on many superficial levels can provoke such different reactions. Beyond the musical theory of how a song is put together and played, attitude seems to play a big role. And the prejudices of the listener. Whatever it was, I was just not into what Annuals were doing on Thursday night, other than a few points when they played some of their older songs with so much jam-band-i-ness. I did enjoy the opening acts. What Laura Says played retro classic rock, harking back to the Allman Brothers. (Hey, aren’t they a jam band, too? Yeah, but it’s not the same thing…) And Jessica Lea Mayfield played some plaintive roots rock.

See photos of Annuals, What Laura Says and Jessica Lea Mayfield.

Talking about Chicago’s ‘Blond Boss’

Chicago Public Radio WBEZ aired Alison Cuddy’s interview with me on the “Eight Forty-Eight” show this morning. I talked about my recent Huffington Post article on William Lorimer, who was known as the “Blond Boss” of the Chicago Republican machine a century ago. Lorimer was kicked out of the U.S. Senate after allegations were reported that he’d obtained his Senate seat through bribery. Sound familiar?

The WBEZ program will be archived online here.

And here’s my Huffington Post article.

Andrew Bird redux

Little did I know that a New York Times Magazine reporter was at the same Andrew Bird concert I attended last month at the Hideout… Catching up the other day on some of my magazine reading, I realized that the magazine’s Jonathan Mahler covered the show as part of his nice profile of Bird in the Jan. 2 issue. Here’s my original blog post about the concert, and here are my photos from the concert.

Bird’s new record, Noble Beast, comes out Jan. 20, but you can stream the whole thing now on the NPR web site at http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=98649962. (NPR is also streaming one of the other records I’m eagerly anticipating, M. Ward’s Hold Time.)

Best Films of 2008

1. MAN ON WIRE (Philippe Petit) – The act of walking on a tightrope suspended between the towers of the World Trade Center might seem like a pointless stunt, but in this documentary, it comes to feel like an amazing achievement, a strange testament to what people can accomplish when they put their hearts and minds into a task. It’s thrilling and oddly moving to watch this story unfold through archival film, photos and interviews.

2. HUNGER (Steve McQueen) – A brutal and painful viewing experience, this is the true story of Irish political prisoners refusing to give in to the rules set by their British captors – a contest of wills that resembles an unstoppable force colliding an unmovable object. The film, which showed at the Chicago International Film Festival, is unflinching and powerful, a masterpiece of editing and minimalist storytelling.

3. IN THE CITY OF SYLVIA (Jose Luis Guerin) – A profound Spanish film about the sort of voyeurism that happens in plain sight: strangers watching and studying one another’s faces in streets and cafés. Sylvia captures the mindset of watching strangers with a natural sense of realism and some subtle humor reminiscent of Jacques Tati’s sight gags. In the City of Syliva showed at the European Union Film Festival at the Gene Siskel Film Center.

4. WALL-E (Andrew Stanton) – The first half is a terrific silent movie of sorts, without any dialogue to guide us, just the pictures and sounds of a robot on a deserted junk heap of a planet. And the second half is a biting satire on the fat, lazy habits of the human race.

5. SYNECDOCHE, NEW YORK (Charlie Kaufman) – A big, confusing riddle of a movie that will baffle anyone who gets too hung up on trying to figure out every detail of what’s happening. Don’t get too hung up on all that. This is a self-reflexive work of art about the creation of itself, reminiscent of , the original Singing Detective, Alain Resnais’ neglected Providence and, of course, all those other films with Charlie Kaufman scripts. There’s some wonderful humor and pathos in this fantastic phantasmagoria.

6. PARANOID PARK (Gus Van Sant) – Along with his galvanizing biopic Milk, Van Sant directed this superb film in 2008, working in a more experimental and personal style. At times, the sounds and images wash over you in a stream of consciousness. The protagonist is something of a blank, but that’s the way he’s supposed to be. It all culminates with a shocking scene that I can’t get out of my head.

7. THE EDGE OF HEAVEN/Auf der Anderen Seite (Fateh Akin) – As this film’s interconnected stories crisscross Germany and Turkey, we see the ties that bind the subplots together – but the characters themselves just miss making the connections. After showing two tragedies, the film ends with a slight sense of hope that good people of different cultures might connect after all.

8. THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON (David Fincher) – It looks like a storybook come to life. The concept of this parable is simple, but it has depths beyond the story of a man who ages in reverse; it’s a meditation on the many ways people feel out of place in the world around them.

9. STANDARD OPERATING PROCEDURE (Errol Morris) – A riveting inquiry into the prisoner abuse at Abu Ghraib, Morris’ documentary does not arrive at definitive conclusions about who was responsible for these reprehensible deeds but it asks all the right questions.

10. THE SKY, THE EARTH AND THE RAIN/El Cielo, la Tierra y la Lluvia (Jose Luis Torres Leiva) – This enigmatic drama from Chile, which played at the Chicago International Film Festival, moves at the languorous pace of a Bela Tarr or Andrei Tarkovksy film. Most people will probably find it too slow, in other words, but it has a beautiful sense of tranquility. The mysterious and mostly unspoken relationships among the various characters eventually emerge out of the mist.

11. Slumdog Millionaire (Danny Boyle)
12. My Winnipeg (Guy Maddin)
13. Alexandra (Aleksandr Sokurov)
14. Milk (Gus Van Sant)
15. Rain of the Children (Vincent Ward)
16. Momma’s Man (Azazel Jacobs)
17. Terribly Happy/Frygtelig Lykkelig (Henrik Ruben Genz)
18. Happy-Go-Lucky (Mike Leigh)
19. Flight of the Red Balloon (Hsiao-hsien Hou)
20. Nights and Weekends (Joe Swanberg and Greta Gerwig)
21. The Visitor (Thomas McCarthy)
22. Wellness (Jake Mahaffy)
23. The Wrestler (Darren Aronofsky)
24. At the Death House Door (Peter Gilbert and Steve James)
25. Ballast (Lance Hammer)
26. Everlasting Moments/Maria Larssons Eviga Ögonblick (Jan Troell)
27. Tell No One (Guilliame Canet)
28. Vicky Cristina Barcelona (Woody Allen)
29. Cadillac Records (Daniel Martin)
30. Doubt (John Patrick Shanley)

Favorite plays of 2008

1. GATZ, Elevator Repair Service at the Museum of Contemporary Art: An ingenious, transcendent and strangely mesmerizing six-hour marathon of a play: a worker in a drab office reading The Great Gatsby aloud – every single word. A testament to the transformative powers of art and storytelling.

2. OUR TOWN, The Hypocrites at the Chopin Theatre: Thornton Wilder’s classic play was not the least bit quaint or sentimental in this marvelous revival by director David Cromer. Coming very close to Wilder’s original intentions, this bare-bones, street-clothes staging moved us and made us think about our place in the universe.

3. DUBLN CAROL, Steppenwolf: It was a superb year for seeing Conor McPherson plays in Chicago, and three of his plays deserve mention here. Some critics ranked Dublin Carol third out of the three plays, but I found it the purest and most direct expression of McPherson’s spirit, with a top-notch performance by William Petersen.

4. AS YOU LIKE IT, Writers’ Theatre: Directed by William Brown, Shakespeare’s story was completely delightful. The play is not often mentioned as one of the Bard’s best, but the production made a compelling case for it.

5. A STEADY RAIN, by Chicago Dramatists at Royal George Theatre: This cop drama by Keith Huff made some critics’ lists for 2007; I did not see it until this year. It’s one of the best recent plays about Chicago, capturing the lively, vulgar repartee of the city’s finest.

6. PICNIC, Writers’ Theatre: The space at Writers’ Theatre was reconfigured to put the audience almost in the middle of the action, and director David Cromer surrounded us with believable human beings.

7. DRACULA, The Building Stage: The ending was flawed, but everything else about this adaptation of Bram Stoker’s novel was amazing – a silent movie presented as a phantasmagoric tableau.

8. RUINED, Goodman Theatre: Lynn Nottage’s play is marked with searing pain and trauma, but there’s some joyful spirit, too – just enough to make it bearable.

9. THE SEAFARER, Steppenwolf: Another excellent Conor McPherson play, a devilish take on Christmas.

10. EURYDICE, Victory Gardens: Sarah Ruhl’s magic-realist take on the Orpheus myth flowed with the logic of a dream.

Runners-up: 9 Parts of Desire, MCA/Next Theatre; Shining City, Goodman; Superior Donuts, Steppenwolf; The Brothers Karamazov, Lookingglass; Gas For Less, Goodman; Someone Who’ll Watch Over Me, Piven Theatre; Around the World in 80 Days, Lookingglass; Million Dollar Quartet, Apollo Theatre; Boneyard Prayer, Redmoon Theatre; Dead Man’s Cell Phone, Steppenwolf; The Lion in Winter, Writers’ Theatre.

Best concerts of 2008

1. Tom Waits, June 26 at the Fox Theatre, St. Louis. “Waits danced like a marionette last night, allowing some invisible strings to jerk his body to the rhythms of the band…” Review.

2. Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Sept. 29 at the Riviera. “Cave is a scary sort of preacher, and he prowled the stage with barely concealed sexual energy, his white shirt completely drenched with sweat….” Review.

3. Radiohead, Aug. 1 at Lollapalooza, Grant Park. “Girls in bikinis dance as Yorke sings about the next world war. People whistle and clap whenever Yorke holds a long, high falsetto note. A collective ‘Ahhh!’ goes up each time fans recognize the opening chords of a song…” Review.

4. Randy Newman, Oct. 12 at the Genessee Theatre, Waukegan. “That was just a gray-haired man with an ungainly voice playing a piano by himself up on the Genesee stage Friday night, but it felt like a cast of thousands…” Review.

5. The Ex & Getatchew Mekurya, Aug. 18 at the Pritzker Pavilion. “It was a perfect day, and the music was perfect, too. With the Chicago skyline there at my side and a terrific band right in front of me in the middle of the day on a Monday, I found myself thinking: Why isn’t life always like this?…” Review.

6. Boredoms, March 26 at the Congress Theatre. “All the drumming and sounds abruptly stopped, and all of the musicians paused, their bodies poised to bang away again. The band paused and paused. It was the sort of moment when fans at some concerts will assume that a song is over and start clapping, but everyone at the Boredoms show knew that this moment of silence was part of the music. The vast room was deadly quiet, no one making a sound, except an intake of breath. I could feel the audience recognizing something special in the moment. And then the hammer fell and the drumming resumed with more force than ever…” Review.

7. Neil Young, Dec. 9 at the Allstate Arena. “As soon as Neil Young walked out onto the stage, he launched into the sort of live-wire, feedback-drenched guitar solo you’d normally expect to hear at the climax of a concert… Stomping around the stage with his shaggy gray hair flailing around the balding crest of his head, Young squeezed out his notes as if the energy coming out of those guitar string was charging through his body….” Review.

8. Cat Power, Feb. 10 at the Vic. “Marshall showed a jazz singer’s sense of timing, letting her words drop behind the beat or run ahead of it… She seemed to feel an uninhibited freedom to roam the stage with her peculiar pantomime-like dance moves. She crouched down low as she sang, making gestures with her hands that sometimes acted out the words of the songs – or just reflected one of her fleeting whims. She held her hands in prayer, she flicked her fingers with a fish-like motion, she pretended she was clicking a remote control, and she circled a finger next to her head (the universal sign for ‘crazy’)…” Review.

9. My Bloody Valentine, Sept. 27 at the Aragon. “Fans standing near the stage could feel the floor of the Aragon shaking… It seemed like that chord might never end, but then it suddenly shifted back to the chorus of the song. A minute later, My Bloody Valentine’s musicians put down their guitars and left. There was no encore, and fans may have wondered if they’ll get a chance to see My Bloody Valentine any time in the next 17 years…” Review.

10. Sam Phillips, Sept. 6 at the Old Town School Of Folk Music. “Phillips often turned her eyes upward as she sang, sometimes darting her glance back and forth, and a smirk occasionally played across her lips. She seemed at peace with herself, and maybe a little amused…” Review.

11. Magnetic Fields, March 16 at the Old Town School Of Folk Music. Review.

12. Monotonix, Sept. 20 at the Hideout Block Party. Review.

13. Andrew Bird, Sept. 3 at the Pritzker Pavilion. Review.

14. Thurston Moore and the New Wave Bandits, March 15, at the French Legation Museum, Austin. Review.

15. Frida Hyvönen, Nov. 3 at the Lakeshore Theater. Review.

Favorite concert photos of 2008

Some of my favorite photos that I took at concerts in 2008: 1. Cat Power 2. The Donnas 3. The Donnas 4. The Hives 5. Roky Erickson 6. Exene Cervenka 7. Fleet Foxes 8. Thurston Moore 9. Zooey Deschanel of She & Him 10. The Kills 11. Russian Circles 12. Icy Demons 13. Jarvis Cocker 14. Boris 15. King Khan 16. Dodos 17. Dinosaur Jr. 18. Gogol Bordello 19. The Raconteurs 20. CSS 21. Explosions in the Sky 22. Wilco 23. Brazilian Girls 24. Saul Williams 25. The National 26. Sons and Daughters 27. Monotonix 28. Neko Case 29. Mucca Pazza 30. A Hideout zombie 31. Nick Cave 32. TV on the Radio 33. Frida Hyvönen 34. The Hold Steady & Drive-By Truckers 35. The Sadies 36. Andrew Bird

Best Music of 2008

1. THEE SILVER MT. ZION MEMORIAL ORCHESTRA & TRA-LA-LA BAND: 13 BLUES FOR THIRTEEN MOONS (Constellation) – Four epic songs play out like the document of a pagan ritual. Simple melodies rise quietly from the orchestra pit, swelling and gaining intensity as they repeat and repeat – until they finally erupt in catharsis. Efrim Menuck and his six fellow Montréal Tra-La-La’ers chant and rant against the darkness. When their voices meet one another in a rough, communal sort of harmony, I think: Maybe singing together can save the world.
www.myspace.com/silvermtzion
www.tra-la-la-band.com

2. ONEIDA: PRETEEN WEAPONRY (Jagjaguwar) – Oneida stretches every musical form beyond its normal parameters, repeating riffs until they achieve mesmeric effect. Driven by propulsive drumming, the music on this album is divided into three tracks, but they’re all of a piece. Think of the first track as the intro, the second as the “song,” and the third as the cascading fadeout. Despite the scarcity of lyrics, it feels somehow spiritual and transcendent, like a Krautrock version of “A Love Supreme.”
/www.jagjaguwar.com/artist.php?name=oneida
www.enemyhogs.com
www.myspace.com/oneidarocks

3. SHE & HIM: VOLUME ONE (Merge) – The year’s prettiest pop music. M. Ward’s old-fashioned arrangements are the perfect setting for Zooey Deschanel’s cool voice.
www.mergerecords.com/band.php?band_id=140
www.myspace.com/sheandhim


4. CAT POWER: JUKEBOX (Matador) – Chan Marshall doesn’t just cover these songs, she makes them her own, with all the panache of a great jazz or soul singer.
www.myspace.com/catpower
www.catpowermusic.com

5. SEUN KUTI & FELA’S EGYPT 80: SEUN KUTI & FELA’S EGYPT 80 (Disorient) – Fela’s son keeps Afrobeat alive and well, and it sounds as fun and funky as ever, with politically conscious words that would make dad proud.
www.myspace.com/seunkuti

6. KAYHAN KALHOR AND BROOKLYN RIDER: SILENT CITY (World Village) – A breathtakingly beautiful blend of Iranian and Western classical music traditions, with soul-piercing harmonies floating over galloping rhythms.
www.myspace.com/kayhankalhor
/www.worldvillagemusic.com/anglais/artistesfiche.php?artist_id=39
www.brooklynrider.com
www.myspace.com/brooklynrider

7. IDA: LOVERS PRAYERS (Polyvinyl) – This musical family gathering brings out intimate folk rock with hushed, soothing voices.
www.myspace.com/idamusic
www.idamusic.com

8. FRIDA HYVÖNEN: SILENCE IS WILD (Secretly Canadian) – This Swede’s smart, highly personal and whimsical words sound sublime, in lush settings as well as spare solo-piano arrangements.
www.fridahyvonen.com
www.myspace.com/fridahyvonen

9. SAM PHILLIPS: DON’T DO ANYTHING (Nonesuch) – These terrific turns of phrase are pure poetry, sung by one of rock’s most singular voices.
www.samphillipsmusic.com
www.myspace.com/officialsamphillipsmusic

10. PORTISHEAD: THIRD (Mercury) – The absence of sounds where you expect them. Notes that hit twice as hard as you think they will. Chillingly lovely.
www.portishead.co.uk
www.myspace.com/PORTISHEADALBUM3

11. My Brightest Diamond: A Thousand Shark’s Teeth (Asthmatic Kitty)
www.mybrightestdiamond.com
www.myspace.com/mybrightestdiamond

12. Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds: Dig!!! Lazarus, Dig!!! (Anti)
www.nickcaveandthebadseeds.com
www.myspace.com/nickcaveandthebadseeds

13. Randy Newman: Harps and Angels (Nonesuch)
www.randynewman.com
www.myspace.com/therealrandynewman

14. Kelley Stoltz: Circular Sounds (Sub Pop)
www.kelleystoltz.com
www.myspace.com/kelleystoltz

15. Bon Iver: For Emma, Forever Ago (Secretly Canadian)
www.boniver.org
www.myspace.com/boniver

16. Bonnie “Prince” Billy: Lie Down in the Lights (Drag City)
www.myspace.com/princebonniebilly
www.dragcity.com/bands/bonnie.html

17. The Black Angels: Directions to See a Ghost (Light in the Attic)
www.theblackangels.com
www.myspace.com/theblackangels

18. Delta Spirit: Ode to Sunshine (Rounder)
www.deltaspirit.net
www.myspace.com/deltaspirit

19. The War on Drugs: Wagonwheel Blues (Secretly Canadian)
www.myspace.com/thewarondrugs
www.secretlycanadian.com/artist.php?name=warondrugs

20. TV on the Radio: Dear Science, (Interscope)
www.tvontheradio.com/
www.myspace.com/tvotr

21. Dr. Dog: Fate (Park the Van)
www.drdogmusic.com
www.myspace.com/drdog

22. Sprengjuhöllin: Sprengjuhöllin (eMusic Selects)
www.myspace.com/sprengjuhollin
www.emusic.com/album/Sprengjuhöllin-Sprengjuhöllin-MP3-Download/11271466.html

23. Bodies of Water: A Certain Feeling (Secretly Canadian)
www.bodiesofwater.net
www.myspace.com/bodiesofwater
www.secretlycanadian.com/artist.php?name=bodiesofwater

24. Sons & Daughters: This Gift (Domnio)
www.sonsanddaughtersloveyou.com
www.myspace.com/sonsanddaughters

25. Big Buildings: Wampum (Stars/No Stars)
www.bigbuildings.net
www.myspace.com/bigbuildings

26. Weinland: La Lamentor (Badman)
www.weinlandmusic.com
www.myspace.com/johnweinland

27. Bob Dylan: Tell Tale Signs: Bootleg Series Vol. 8 (Columbia)
www.bobdylan.com
www.myspace.com/bobdylan

28. Musee Mecanique: Hold This Ghost (Frog Stand)
www.museemecanique.us
www.myspace.com/museemecanique
frogstandrecords.com/?page_id=14

29. Black Mountain: In the Future (Jagjaguwar)
www.blackmountainarmy.com
www.myspace.com/blackmountain

30. Fleet Foxes: Fleet Foxes (Sub Pop)
www.subpop.com/artists/fleet_foxes
www.myspace.com/fleetfoxes

31. Evangelicals: The Evening Descends (Dead Oceans)
www.myspace.com/evangelicals
deadoceans.com/artist.php?name=evangelicals

32. The Rural Alberta Advantage: Hometowns (eMusic Selects)
www.theraa.com
www.myspace.com/theraa

33. Titus Andronicus: The Airing of Grievances (XL)
www.titusandronicus.net/
www.myspace.com/titusandronicus

34. James Yorkston: When the Haar Rolls In (Domino)
www.jamesyorkston.co.uk
www.myspace.com/jamesyorkston

35. Plants and Animals: Parc Avenue (Secret City)
www.plantsandanimals.ca
www.myspace.com/plantsandanimals

36. Constantines: Kensington Heights (Secretly Canadian)
www.arts-crafts.ca/constantines
www.myspace.com/constantines

37. Parts and Labor: Receivers (Jagjaguwar)
www.partsandlabor.net
www.myspace.com/partsandlabor
www.jagjaguwar.com/artist.php?name=partsandlabor

38. The Hold Steady: Stay Positive (Vagrant)
www.theholdsteady.com
www.myspace.com/theholdsteady

39. Tift Merritt: Another Country (Fantasy)
tiftmerritt.com
www.myspace.com/tiftmerritt

40. The Helio Sequence: Keep Your Eyes Ahead (Sub Pop)
http://www.theheliosequence.com/main.html
www.myspace.com/theheliosequence

41. Sun Kil Moon: April (Caldo Verde)
www.sunkilmoon.com
www.myspace.com/sunkilmoonmusic

42. The Walkmen: You & Me (Gigantic)
www.marcata.net/walkmen
www.myspace.com/thewalkmen

43. Deerhunter: Microcastle (Kinky)
http://www.myspace.com/deerhunter
deerhuntertheband.blogspot.com

44. Centro-Matic/South San Gabriel: Dual Hawks (Misra)
www.centro-matic.com
www.myspace.com/centromatic

45. KaiserCartel: March Forth (Bluhammock)
www.kaisercartel.com
www.myspace.com/kaisercartel

46. Vivian Girls: Vivian Girls (In the Red)
www.freewebs.com/viviangirls
www.myspace.com/viviangirlsnyc

47. Throw Me the Statue: Moonbeams (Secretly Canadian)
www.secretlycanadian.com/artist.php?name=throwmethestatue
www.myspace.com/throwmethestatue

48. The Last Shadow Puppets: The Age of Understatement (Domino)
thelastshadowpuppets.com
www.myspace.com/thelastshadowpuppets

49. Darker My Love: 2 (Dangerbird)
www.darkermylovemusic.com
www.myspace.com/darkermylove

50. The Magnetic Fields: Distortion (Nonesuch)
www.houseoftomorrow.com
www.myspace.com/themagneticfields

A remnant of the old Green Mill

Although Chicago’s legendary Green Mill jazz club is a pretty small joint these days, it used to be practically palatial, taking up most of the block where it now stands. As I was walking down Broadway near the club this afternoon, I noticed something interesting. A few doors north of the Green Mill, some workers were replacing the sign on the Fiesta Mexicana restaurant – revealing the old name “Green Mill Gardens” carved into the face of the building. This logo is a remnant of the days back when the Green Mill filled the entire building. I rushed home (not far away, fortunately) for my camera and returned in time to snap a few shots of the old name that has been hidden behind the Mexican restaurant sign for many years.


Back when it opened in 1914, the Green Mill included a large “sunken garden,” as you can see in this advertisement announcing the grand opening in the June 26, 1914, Chicago Tribune.

UPDATE: A friend pointed out this photo – http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3083/2613654360_3871083721.jpg?v=0 – which shows that the restaurant sign wasn’t actually blocking out the old name, just hanging near it… and obviously, distracting me from seeing it, since I had never noticed it before.

UPDATE (Dec. 20): If you walk by the Green Mill now looking for the old “Green Mill Gardens” logo I photographed yesterday, here is what you will see:

Andrew Bird at the Hideout

It wasn’t long ago that Andrew Bird played at little clubs like the Hideout, but lately he’s been getting popular enough to draw big crowds at places like Millennium Park and to book a concert tour at opera houses. So it was something of a rare opportunity to see him playing last night (Dec. 15) back inside the comfy confines of his hometown Hideout.

This show and one on the previous night were announced quietly just a week ago, a sort of holiday surprise from the Hideout. As Bird explained from the stage, these last-minute shows happened when he discovered he needed to shoot a video for the song “Fitz and Dizzy” from his forthcoming CD. Bird and his band, along with Mucca Pazza, spent much of the day filming in and around the Hideout, and then the video crew filmed two performances of the tune during last night’s concert, with the Mucca Pazza marching-bands folks playing amidst the crowd.

The show included every song from the new album, with Bird apologizing a few times for the fact that the band is still learning how to play the songs. There were a few glitches when Bird’s looping pedals did not work as planned as always with Bird concerts, such imperfections only draw your attention to all the craft that goes into constructing this music. The new songs sounded nice, not too drastic a departure from Bird’s previous two records if my ears weren’t deceiving me, but it’ll take a while to absorb them fully. Bird sprinkled a few oldies into the set, including “Imitosis” and the encore “Tables and Chairs.” And although it isn’t on the set list I photographed, he also threw in “A Nervous Tic Motion of the Head to the Left.”

Dosh (a.k.a. Martin Dosh) performed a brilliantly creative opening set of his own sequenced, looping music, in addition to playing drums and keyboards for Bird.

Photos of Andrew Bird and Dosh.

The War on Drugs at Schubas

One of the albums from early this year that’s really stuck with me is Wagonwheel Blues by the War on Drugs, a band from Philadelphia. I missed the group’s previous show in Chicago and was glad to catch them last night (Dec. 11) at Schubas. On record, the War on Drugs reminds me a little bit of the Waterboys – it’s something about Adam Granduciel’s voice, and the melodies – not to mention some other roots-rock influences, some Dylan, a little Springsteen. Live, the band had more of a Velvet Underground and psychedelic vibe.

It’s clear from the concert that this band is mostly Granduciel with backup players. Last night, they were a trio. Granduciel set up an elaborate chain of effects pedals for his guitars, keyboard, harmonica and police-radio microphone, among other gadgets. The pedals and chords were giving him a little trouble at times (try keeping it simple, dude), but he dealt gamely with all technical difficulties, not really seeming to care very much when the guitars sounded different than planned or squeals of feedback came out. The trio format forced the band to use recorded backing tracks on a few songs, and while that sort of thing bugs me at times, the War on Drugs played against those backing tracks with a lively sense of spontaneity. Despite a few technical problems and an overall sense of being slightly ramshackle, this was an energetic performance of some smart, catchy songs. I’m looking forward to hearing what’s next for the War on Drugs.

See photos of the War on Drugs.

Secretly Canadian page
thewarondrugs.net
myspace.com/thewarondrugs

Neil Young at Allstate Arena

As soon as Neil Young walked out onto the stage at the Allstate Arena Tuesday night (Dec. 9), he launched into the sort of live-wire, feedback-drenched guitar solo you’d normally expect to hear at the climax of a concert. It was the opening notes of “Love and Only Love,” which sparked off seven powerful, electric songs in a row – including some of the greatest rock songs from Young’s long history, “Hey Hey, My My,” “Powderfinger” and “Cortez the Killer.” Unlike the 2007 Chicago Theatre show where Young started things off with a beautiful acoustic set, Tuesday’s concert began with Young plunging his audience straight into the loud yet lovely noise coming out of his Gibson Les Paul.

His backing band was not Crazy Horse, but these stalwart players captured all the spirit of Young’s Crazy Horse records. Stomping around the stage with his shaggy gray hair flailing around the balding crest of his head, Young squeezed out his notes as if the energy coming out of those guitar string was charging through his body. After lighting up the stage with those electric songs, Young mellowed out for the concert’s middle portion, playing a few acoustic songs, including “The Needle and the Damage Done” and “Old Man.” He sat down at an old-fashioned pump organ for a haunting solo version of “Mother Earth.”

Young played four brand-new songs in a row, introducing them by saying, “You may not know some of these. That’s OK.” The first of the new songs, “Just Singing a Song,” had a catchy chorus, but the next three felt a little lackluster. One of them, “Fuel Line,” featured awkward lyrics about electric cars. Just as some people in the crowd seemed to get restless with the new material, Young went back to the oldies, closing with the drawn-out solos of “Cowgirl in the Sand” and the pounding chords of “Rockin’ in the Free World.” Young wrote that song to decry the state of affairs in America under the first President Bush. Now, he added some lyrics about the current president-elect: “We’ve got a man of the people saying ‘Yes, we can.’”

For his encore, Young covered the Beatles’ “A Day in the Life.” When it came time for that swelling orchestra at the end of the song, Young let his guitar do most of the work, producing squalls of noise. He snapped off all the strings, and set down the guitar next to an amp. When the arena’s video screen showed a close-up of the battered guitar, it earned one of the evening’s biggest rounds of applause. As the crescendo ended, Young stepped over to a glockenspiel and played the final resolving chord of “A Day in the Life” with a single ting of the mallets.

It was a strange but thrilling end to another great performance by one of rock music’s true masters.

My review is also up at the Southtown Star newspaper’s Web site.

Sadies, Flat Five and Dream Day

Recapping a few shows from the past week…

The Sadies were back in town Thursday (Dec. 4) for a show at Schubas, kicking off a tour with the estimable Tim Easton as opening act. The Sadies don’t have a new record out (not since releasing my favorite album of 2007, New Seasons), so we didn’t get any new songs, but there were plenty of great old tunes – something like 30, I think, if you include all those short instrumentals they ripped through. As always, the Good brothers were simply amazing on their guitars, and I took special notice this time that Travis was playing without any effects pedals at all, and Dallas had just a couple of rudimentary pedals. Further proof that you don’t need a lot of special effects to make the guitar sing. Highlights included covers of “A House is Not a Hotel” by Love and “Shake Some Action” by the Flaming Groovies. Easton put on a good show, too, playing solo acoustic (over chatty crowd noise) and mentioning that he has an album coming out in the spring with more of a rock sound.

Photos of the Sadies and Tim Easton.

Friday night (Dec. 5) marked the return of the Flat Five, a sort of local super group combining the talents of Kelly Hogan, Nora O’Connor, Scott Ligon, KC McDonough and Gerald Dowd in an idiosyncratic cover band. Well, it’s mostly covers. They play a few originals, but it’s largely old pop, country, jazz, psychedelic and standard songs they clearly love. Their voices blend into truly lovely harmonies, and they have a knack for picking the sort of terrific tunes that a die-hard record collector loves. I stayed for both the early and late shows at the Hideout, and heard them doing everything from Spanky & Our Gang to the Dukes of Stratosphear, Rutles and Hoagy Carmichael. These are some special musicians who rarely put our records. You really have to catch them live to see what they’re all about.

Photos of the Flat Five.

I was back at the Hideout on Sunday (Dec. 7) for a show benefitting Goldie’s Place, an organization that helps the homeless get jobs. The show featured Jon Langford playing solo, followed by Eleventh Dream Day, and Eleventh Dream Day combining with Langford and Sally Timms for several Mekons and Three Johns songs. It was a lively affair, with a couple of strong new songs by Eleventh Dream Day (new album coming soon, guys? Let’s hope…), sloppy but fun renditions of those barely rehearsed Mekons songs and tighter performances of the Three Johns songs. All for a good cause.

Photos of Eleventh Dream Day with Jon Langford and Sally Timms.

A Million Tongues at the Empty Bottle

Steve Krakow, a.k.a. Plastic Crimewave, has many musical activities, ranging from playing in Plastic Crimewave Sound and the various Guitarkestra events, editing, writing and cartooning… and organizing an annual festival of strange psychedelia, folk rock and other stuff at the Empty Bottle called Million Tongues. I think it of sort of like the concert equivalent of the bins at the record stores where you find obscure old vinyl with great songs almost no one has ever heard of.

Friday’s mini-fest was headlined by the classic rock legend Terry Reid – who may be most legendary for turning down a gig as lead singer of Led Zeppelin. The music he ended up making on his own without Zep isn’t nearly as famous, but he clearly has a loyal cult following, as evidenced by the people signing along Friday as he performed gravelly voiced blues rock. And the stellar backup band that came together for this one-off gig was further proof that Reid is well-liked in certain circles: Emmett Kelly on guitar, LeRoy Bach on guitar and organ, David Vandervelde on bass and Ryan Rapsys on drums. The band sounded great, and so did Reid. Let’s hope he enjoyed playing with these lads well enough to do it again sometime.

Second billing went to another English veteran, Mark Fry, and his backup group included Dan Schneider of the venerable local outfit the Singleman Affair. I’d never heard Fry’s music before, but I was instantly enchanted by the lilting sounds of his folk rock. His 1971 record Dreaming With Alice has been described as “acid folk,” and I can see why. This was Fry’s first-ever show in Chicago. Or did Krakow say first-ever show in America? Either way, a belated appearance by a talented songwriter.

Also notable at Friday’s show were English folkie Ellen Mary McGee, whose lovely songs managed to cut through the annoying chatter over at the bar, and the first act of the night, Piss Piss Piss Ono Ono Ono, who made some compelling instrumental rock in a too-short set. Virginia Tate played both guitar and flute in another short set, while Brent Gutzeit and Steven Hess droned ambient-style. The odd group out was Hans Condor, whose head-banging rock seemed a bit like something out of School of Rock – complete with a stage dive out onto an empty audience floor (no one was injured). At least those guys seemed to be having fun.

Photos from the Million Tongues festival.

No Age and Titus Andronicus

Tuesday night (Nov. 18) was my first trip to Reggie’s, a club I’ve been meaning to check out for the past year or so. It’s encouraging to see new rock venues popping up around Chicago lately, many of them out beyond the North Side neighborhoods that have dominated the concert scene for so long. Reggie’s is on the South Side, a short walk from the Chinatown/Cermak stop on the Red Line. It’s a cool room, with a comfortable balcony that actually has decent views of the stage. What a concept.

I was at Reggie’s to see No Age and Titus Andronicus. I’ve heard wildly divergent opinions of No Age, but I’d never seen the band until now. I appreciated No Age’s scrappy energy as the drum-and-guitar duo slammed through its songs, and the crowd clearly appreciated it, too, moshing like mad. Having only listened a little bit to the No Age album Nouns beforehand, however, I had trouble perceiving the songs underneath the noise.

I’m a bigger fan of the opening act, Titus Andronicus. I saw this band at the Pitchfork Music Fest this summer without knowing anything about them, and came away wowed by their rambunctious spirit. Since then, I’ve been listening to their debut, The Airing of Grievances, a rough-hewn rock record. The noisiness of the riffs may seem like punk rock, but it often sounds to me more like amped-up folk rock or garage Nuggets. Those strains came through during Tuesday’s show, as the band sang songs about Abraham Lincoln, blowed mightily away on harmonica, caterwauled (in a good way) and catapulted around the stage. As far as I’m concerned, they stole the show from No Age.

Photos of No Age and Titus Andronicus.

The great ‘Gatz’

When a book is adapted for the stage or screen, one of the hardest things to capture is the author’s voice. Without a lot of narration, the way the author tells the story tends to disappear. So why not include the actual words on the page? How about every single word? As insane as that idea might sound, it’s exactly what the New York theater company Elevator Repair Service has done with F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby.

The group’s play, called Gatz, is hardly a straightforward adaptation of The Great Gatsby, however. Performed three times this past weekend at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago, the 6 1/2-hour Gatz presents the odd spectacle of an employee in a drab office who finds a copy of the novel in his desk and then proceeds to read it aloud. At first, the other employees around him seem to be aware of what he’s doing, giving him odd looks. But after a while, they all begin providing the voices for the various characters within the novel. Don’t worry about the logic of this. Of course, the actual office employees wouldn’t know all of those lines without looking at the page. At this point, Gatz is becoming a weird little world with a logic of its own.

It’s a highly conceptual piece of theater as well as a staged reading of the novel. It was a bit like hearing a book on tape mixed with performance art. The milieu of the office reminded me of Ben Katchor’s comic strips, and some humor arose from the way the office workers perform Fitzgerald’s great story. As unconventional as all of this was, it still managed to stay true to the novel. As the narrator, Scott Shephard achieved the Herculean task of reading the whole damn book. Halfway through the show, I marveled at seeing how many pages he had turned. And 45 minutes or so from the end, he set down the book and recited the rest from memory. A stillness descended on the theater for Fitzgerald’s final elegiac passage. It had been a long haul for the audience, with two intermissions and a dinner break, but my attention never lagged, and by the exhausting end of the ordeal, the long standing ovation and three curtain calls felt like the least we could do to honor the amazing performance we’d just witnessed.

Blitzen Trapper and Horse Feathers

It was a strong double bill Sunday night (Nov. 9) at Schubas, with headliner Blitzen Trapper and opener Horse Feathers. Blitzen Trapper continues to defy categorization, playing a rousing brand of roots rock with lots of classic-rock flourishes … and even a Dolly Parton cover.

I just started listening to Horse Feathers for the first time a few days ago, but I can already tell I like this group. The concert was a hushed set of mellow folk music with guitar, cello and violin – a little bit like Iron & Wine or Bowerbirds, with smartly minimal arrangements. The crowd gave Horse Feathers an especially enthusiastic round of applause at the end of the set, demanding one more song – and Horse Feathers complied with a rare encore for an opening band.

Photos of Blitzen Trapper and Horse Feathers.

My Brightest Diamond

The debut album by My Brightest Diamond, Bring Me the Workhorse, was one of my favorites of 2006, with an almost perfect blend of classical influences with riveting rock guitar and lyrics that trigger memories of childhood. It was a work of genius by Shara Worden, who essentially is My Brightest Diamond, and now she has a worthy follow-up with the more atmospheric album A Thousand Shark’s Teeth.

My Brightest Diamond performed a terrific set Friday (Nov. 7) at Schubas, with Worden on guitar, backed by a trio of violin, viola and cello, plus occasional bass guitar and samples… with bits of music box and even a puppet show for one song. The chamber music format was an excellent showcase for revealing the sophistication of Worden’s songs, and her quasi-operatic voice sounded lovely in the silent spaces between those floating orchestral notes – and the show still rocked when she let loose on her electric guitar a few times. The string players also played in the opening band, Clare and the Reasons, who did a nice and often amusing set of breezier orchestral pop, with a touch of swing and Broadway music. Here are some photos from the concert.

MY BRIGHTEST DIAMOND INTERVIEW

And here’s an interview I did with Shara Worden of My Brightest Diamond. This is the full transcript of the conversation I had with her back on Sept. 26, 2006, when we were backstage at the Riviera Theatre. She was getting ready to open for Sufjan Stevens. A shorter version of this interview appeared in the January/February 2007 issue of the (now sadly defunct) Punk Planet magazine. The interview is a couple of years old, but I think it’s still interesting and relevant to My Brightest Diamond’s latest music.

Q: You grew up in a musical family. Did your parents influence your music?

A: My dad bought me my first record player when I was 3. So I kind of had control of that in my room. And he would bring home records from the library, like Walt Disney. And later, Michael Jackson’s Thriller. That was the first record that I remember him liking. That and Joan Jett. But I wasn’t really into Joan Jett at the time. It wasn’t poppy enough for me as a little kid.

My parents had music playing all the time, jazz, classical. I won Manhattan Transfer concerts off the radio one time, when I was little. And so we went to a Manhattan Transfer show, which I thought was really cool because the girl had on a fringe skirt, halfway through she ripped the fringe off. I thought that was very scandalous. I was a second-grader.

Q: This was in Michigan?

A: This was actually in Oklahoma. I’ve lived in nine different states. I say that I’m sort of from Michigan, but really it’s not true.

Q: Where else did you live?

A: Arkansas, Florida, Oregon, Louisiana, Oklahoma, Michigan, Iowa, Michigan, Texas, New York.

Q: And your grandfather was an evangelist?

A: Yeah. He and my grandmother would travel around the country in an Airstream trailer. They did for probably 50 years. And he would sing, and she would sing harmony and they made a couple of records in Nashville.

Q: Under what name?

A: Kenneth and Theda Wright. Actually, my dad played accordion and both my uncles played trombone and trumpet. My uncle Barry plays on my record and my dad plays on my record, too. [Note: Pictured is a Kenneth and Theda Wright LP I saw on eBay.]

Q: Some kids rebel against the music of their parents. Were you not like that?

A: No, because my parents weren’t restrictive about what I listened to — at all. It was sort of like everything was acceptable. They listened to so much different stuff. I went through other rebellions against them.

Q: Like what?

A: Oh, gosh, they were really, really strict, so I couldn’t go to R movies or go to the park with my friends after school. So I turned into a lying, deceitful little teenager. It was pretty bad. But it wasn’t like I was doing anything — I wasn’t out partying until 2 a.m. I actually got kicked out of my house. My senior year, my parents had moved to Texas and I had moved back to Michigan, and I was working on a project to raise money for the homeless. And we were putting on a fashion show for prom. And I would be working on this project with this girl until 2 in the morning, and I wouldn’t call the people I was staying with. And finally, they were like, “We can’t be responsible for you.” So I came home and all my stuff was on the sidewalk. But the irony was I getting kicked out for raising charity money.

Q: When did you start performing music yourself?

A: In high school, I was doing chamber music. We did competitions in Europe, so I was constantly doing music. I started playing piano when I was around 8 or so. My uncle taught me piano. It was definitely all in the family. I’ve been performing since I was a kid. Growing up in the family that we had, there was always performance, whether it was a family gathering or community gathering or a church thing. There was always something.

Q: What sort of music were you performing?

A: I started writing my own tunes in high school. I did musical theater in high school. I sang Feivel as a middle schooler.And then your basically awful Sandi Patty songs, which were atrocious and which I’d be mortified if anyone ever heard.

Q: And those early songs you wrote, would someone listening now to My Brightest Diamond recognize them as you?

A: Not at all. (Sings with heavy vibrato.) “Keep the flame burning and soon it will be a fire spreading through our hearts, you are my desire.” Yeah, awful. Pop ballads. Romantic torture.

Q: So what happened? How did you go from that to the music you’re doing now.

A: Oh, life, man. It’s a very long trajectory. I wasn’t one of those people that found my voice instantly, you know? It’s been something that I’ve worked and worked and worked to define my voice. Part of that is that I’m interested in so many kinds of music that it’s been really difficult for me to focus in on something. So I think that’s one of the reasons why it’s taken me for so long to find my own voice. How did I end up there? I don’t know. I go through periods where I write a lot of tunes and get to a certain point and then decide, “This isn’t where I want to be.” And then I go study string arranging for a year and a half. That’s sort of a pattern for me — working something through and then saying what are the problems with it? OK, let me attack it from a different angle. Or study something else that I’m not going be able to resolve musically without aggressively working on it.

Q: What sort of musical training do you have?

A: I have a degree in classical vocal performance from the University of North Texas.

Q: Did you plan to become a professional opera singer?

A: Yeah, I sort of was, I’ve always thought that would be part of my life. And I still study classical music, privately. Whenever I’m hope in New York, I have a lesson every week. And MBD did a recital in February that was Purcell, Debussey songs, Kurt Weill songs, kind of a look at the history of songwriting beginning 250 years ago and then ending with some MBD string-quartet stuff. So that’s really interesting to me, still.

Q: Did you stray a little bit from classical music because of it being a difficult field to break into or because of interesting in other kinds of music?

A: I think that’s more what it is. I love classical music. I feel like I have a voice in classical music, and I feel like I have something to say, and I feel like it’s a lot of myself, but, yeah, it’s been one of those decisions that I’m looking back on trying to understand why did I make that choice. It’s that I have the need to make something. The immediacy for me of songwriting, the gratification, the expression of it, is why I think I couldn’t stop doing that and why in the end, I didn’t pursue an operatic life.

Q: In addition to studying voice, you’ve studied many aspects of classical music?

A: I studied privately with Padma Newsome. He is a viola player for the Clogs. He’s amazing. At the time, I had just come off a tour with this other guitar player, and I was sick of guitar. So I said, I have to find a person to help me with strings. I was writing music for a couple of plays, so I had an immediate need to get some chops together. Pamda was at Yale, and a one of my best friends at school was studying voice at Yale and had sung one of Padma’s pieces. So I listened to him and wrote to him, and that’s how it all happened. I’d go up there every week or so.

Q: What did you learn from him?

A: He challenges form. “Why are you repeating that?” Or, “What about that is interesting?” He just pushed me in a lot of different ways to find a less obvious approach to something or a more creative approach. There’s things like voice leading, and kind of guiding me in how to talk to players. It’s hard to distill. He fried my mind, that’s the real answer. He exploded my mind.

Q: How do you define the differences between classical and pop music?

A: For me, the defining aspects from a vocal perspective deal with a certain difficulty level. The range in a classical piece, you’re not going to use that range — and you’re not going to use full tones. Pop is higher laryngeal position, it’s more speaking, it’s more forward. So if you try to — but then, you’ve got people like Diamanda Galas, who’s doing legit classical vocal stylings. Or Scott Walker, who I think is really, really operatic. I think he’s the future of opera, myself. I go back and forth. I do know there’s a great difference from when I sing a Debussey song to when I sing a Edith Piaf tunes or one of my own songs.

Q: Have you always kept your pop music and classical music separate?

A: They’ve always been very separate until this album. I had a band before this called Awry, and there were a couple of strings on that. But I would say that for me, it’s a very recent thing for me to try to reconcile these different aspects of my interests.

Q: Did you start My Brightest Diamond with the idea of merging your classical and pop music?

A: Yeah, absolutely. It was to find out what is the potential relationship between strings and drums, because they are natural enemies. The way that I resolved that was by making two records at the same time. In Bring Me the Workhorse, the drums win, and the strings, instead of being fundamental to the writing, the guitar still remains the fundamental piece. In the next record, I’m really am trying to obscure that relationship so that the strings have a more primary function. Because in a way, I couldn’t resolve that musical problem. Because drums are just loud. [Note: She’s talking here about the record that came out this year under the title A Thousand Shark’s Teeth.]

But then you listen to a Peter Gabriel record. And he’s waging that same field by using hand claps or a beat boxer or having these really big tribal drums. But the strings are still a primary role. But — the difference is he’s using an orchestra, and I was using a string quartet. That’s the other thing I ran up against. Björk, for Homogenic, it was beats and strings. And she used an octet. There’s a really big difference between eight people and four. I’m looking at how people solved these problems. That live Portishead record, there were probably 16 string players.

Q: So you need more?

A: Yeah. (Laughs.) I multitrack, man. The power of ProTools. I’m like, “Play it again, guys. That was good.”

Q: What music did you hear that changed your direction from those romantic ballads you wrote in high school?

A: Jeff Buckley, for sure, was probably the biggest transition. Hearing him was a really, really big turning point. I was living five years in Michigan, so I was hearing Motown, R&B, Stevie Wonder, Prince, all that kind of old-school Motown. Even LL Cool J, hip-hop. Then hearing Jeff, who was doing both Benjamin Britten, Nina Simone, and Leonard Cohen with his crazy, amazing voice, burning together all these elements. I had no concept of that before. So he’s a huge influence on me.

Q: Who were some of your other influences?

A: Nina Simone. Prince, for sure. PJ Harvey. All those people. Radiohead — how could we forget? The gods.

Q: How was the music of your first band, Awry, different from My Brightest Diamond?

A: We were trying to be more avant-garde. There’s more dissonance. My singing style is really different. It was full-on all the time… The whole tone is there all the time. It sounds more like an opera person who’s starting to do pop music. As much as I say I’m trying to merge them, I really don’t want to sound that way.

Q: So what did you have to change?

A: To use a singer’s term, it’s called singing off the voice, where you’re not using the full tones. It’s more speaking-oriented than the tone suspending the sound as much. I’m trying really aggressively to work on different emotional colors, so there’s both screaming and whispering, wailing and moaning, and laughing — all of that in the voice, so it’s more expressive.

Q: You have a lot of lyrics about bugs and animals in peril. Are those true stories from your childhood?

A: (Laughs.) Actually, they are. A lot of them are true. “The Robin” is true. “The Magic Rabbit” — my grandfather was a farmer. I don’t want to get too graphic about what they’re about, but I really like the idea of people being able to interpret them for themselves. But, yeah, a lot of them are — the dragonfly story is true. I’m taking them and interpolating what an incident meant. That’s the job of a poet, of a storyteller, of a songwriter. An event happens and then you define the meaning of it, or we expand it.

Q: So what’s with all of the bugs and animals?

A: I don’t know!

Q: Was it a theme?

A: It wasn’t. It’s very strange. I kind of wonder, if it’s easier — it’s like Justin Timberlake’s first record was all “Cry me a river.” Everything is ocean and clouds. I sort of think, perhaps it’s easier for me to identify emotions with animals. It’s almost like making them abstract, or creating a picture and being in some ways more general and more specific.

Q: Is My Brightest Diamond the name of the band, or is it your own stage name as a performer?

A: It’s sort of both. I played with a lot of different people, but I have a quartet in New York that I play with consistently, and Earl Harvin, the drummer on the record, I play with… The sound of the music I want to make is based largely around his drumming. He’s a really, really big part of that sound. Even though most of the musicians are studio people, I wrote it for them.

Q: And where does the name, My Brightest Diamond, come from?

A: I wrote a tune called “The Brightest Diamond,” and that’s going to be on the next record, A Thousand Shark’s Teeth. And I was just thinking about. It started out very personal and then it became more of a metaphor for taking, I felt like I had this person was this really secret diamond in my closet or my pocket, and I was walking around not showing it to anyone because no one would believe it’s real. I started writing this tune about that idea. I’m bringing something from a private space and showing you something that’s precious to me, be it music, be it whatever in my own life. So it has lots of layers.

Q: Any idea what your next album after that one will be like?

A: I go back and forth in extremes. I think once I get done with the strings record, I’m going to be really sick of it, so I’m going to be ready to do a frigging heavy metal or a dance record.

Q: How did you begin working with Sufjan Stevens?

A: We both live in Brooklyn and have mutual friends. This friend of ours was putting on a talent show … So we met that night, and I still remember our whole conversation. We talked about songwriting. He wasn’t playing out that much and I wasn’t playing out that much, so we were just talking about how introverted we both are. We were friends for several years before he put out Greetings From Michigan and needed to tour for it, so he asked if I would play guitar and sing. And then I sang on Illinois.

Q: And you were the head cheerleader in his touring band. Was that fun?

A: I loved it. It was a blast.

Q: You and he both use a lot of strings, but your styles are much different.

A: Our lineage is very different. He’s very in a line with Steve Reich. I almost hear him more like Tchaikovsky. It’s a much more elaborate kind of writing, with 15 times more notes than I write. Whereas my stuff is more like a French path. His stuff is much more Romantic. Even Henry Mancini is from the path of a Debussey, borrowing some of the colors from Stravinsky. That’s more of my trajectory.

Frida Hyvönen at Lakeshore

After many listens over the past couple of months, the new Frida Hyvönen record Silence Is Wild is proving to be one of my favorites of 2008 – gorgeous songs with powerfully evocative and so human lyrics, all arranged beautifully. Hyvönen performed many of the new songs and a few old ones in a startling little concert Monday night (Nov. 3) at Chicago’s Lakeshore Theater… in front of a disappointingly small audience, maybe 20 people spread out across the auditorium like a few stalwart worshippers turning out for a midnight service. Maybe scheduling a show at 10:30 p.m. on a Monday night isn’t such a hot idea, or maybe Hyvönen just needs to get more press and air play. Whatever the case, it turned out to be one of those wonderfully intimate shows that seem like a private performance by a world-class artist.

Silence Is Wild features lush arrangements on many tracks, but Hyvönen played solo on a baby grand at the Lakeshore – and as much as I like all those strings and backup vocals on the record, she proved that she can play fully realized renditions of those songs all by herself. It seems as if her piano playing has grown more sophisticated and richer since she made her debut in 2005. And her vocals were completely sublime. She began a few songs by sounding out the opening note – getting in tune with the piano, and revealing a little bit of her craft in the process. She seemed to slip very easily into whatever melody was before her. Hyvönen is also quite beautiful and a charming presence on the stage, making some witty comments and playfully goofing around, such as when she performed the “parlor trick” of moving her head in a circle around the microphone stand.

Chicago singer Ami Saraiya opened the show with a nice set of her sensitive folk rock, including a few songs on accordion.

Click here to read my interview with Frida Hyvönen, which appeared in the March/April 2007 issue of Punk Planet.

Photos of Frida Hyvönen and Ami Saraiya.

Swedes, The Acorn & more

Saturday (Nov. 1) was one of those nights when Schubas has not one good show, but two. Six bands in all, all worth seeing. First came a trio of Scandinavian acts. Tobias Fröberg started out the evening with a short acoustic set of his folk-rock. Fröberg gets a sad expression on his face when he sings, but in between songs he displayed a dry and very Swedish sense of humor. At one point he observed, “In Sweden, we like sex.” After a short pause: “No, we don’t.”


Theresa Andersson, a Swedish singer who now lives in New Orleans, was up next. She has lots of talents, which she showed off with an exuberant set, looping pedals to sing in harmony with herself – or rather, the various voices inside her, each of which she gave a name and personality, dubbing the whole ensemble “the Kitchenettes.” She also played violin, guitar, drums and a little bit of dulcimer (one strum of one chord, I think!), using the looping pedals to put it all together into a mix of New Orleans-inspired R&B. And yes, she did occasionally sound more like the Swedish folkies on the bill with her.

Ane Brun was the headliner for the early show, singing like an angel… Beautiful folk music with a sense of poise. She sang her cover of Cyndi Lauper’s “True Colors,” which closes out the American version of her new CD, Changing of the Seasons, but mostly it was her original songs. It was a lovely set, maybe a little too short, but Brun had to end her performance in time for Schubas’ late show…

Photos of Ane Brun, Theresa Andersson and Tobias Fröberg.

The second half of the night featured headliners The Acorn with opening acts Ohbijou and the Shaky Hands. The Canadian band Ohbijou played first, and singer-songwriter Casey Macija’s delicate songs sounded more lively in concert than they do on record, with cello and violin joining together with the rock instruments to make spry and charming indie pop.


I did not know anything about the Shaky Hands before seeing them on Saturday, but I quite liked their performance. They were in a more traditional vein of roots-rock, with lots of energy and lots of flying hair courtesy of the lead guitarist. I’d recommend this Portland band to fans of groups like Ladyhawk.

Hailing from Ottawa, Canada, The Acorn released a noteworthy album of folk-rock in 2007, Glory Hope Mountain, with songs based on lead singer Rolf Klausener’s mother’s life. The Acorn recently put out a split 12-inch with Ohbijou, featuring each band covering two songs by the other band. Klausener’s lead vocals remind me at time of early-1970s George Harrison, but the band’s music is also shaggy around the edges, with a little bit of art rock and world music in there, maybe some freak folk, too. With two drummers playing on most songs, the Acorn found a nice balance between sounding pretty and rocking.

Photos of the Acorn, the Shaky Hands and Ohbijou.

King Khan on Halloween

Some musicians dress up in Halloween costumes when they play gigs on Oct. 31. King Khan dresses up pretty garishly anyway, so as far as I could tell, his outfit on Friday at Chicago’s Bottom Lounge was not a special one for the occasion. Khan put on a bonkers show this summer, one of the highlights of the Pitchfork Music Festival. For that gig, he had the Shrines playing behind him, featuring horn players and dancers for a full-blown soul-garage sound.

He was back in town this time with a considerably smaller lineup – the two-person band King Khan & the BBQ Show, which pairs Khan on vocals and guitar with guitarist-drummer-singer Mark “BBQ” Sultan. Guitar-drum duos like – well, you know who – long ago proved that two people can make plenty of noise and music with just a couple of instruments, though I have to say it’s more fun to see Khan with the big Shrines. Khan & BBQ certainly whipped up the Bottom Lounge crowd into a moshing frenzy, though. Khan was wearing one of his trademark wigs and a beaded sort of outfit that made him look like a kitschy version of some ancient Middle Eastern monarch, while BBQ had his head wrapped in a red turban as he pounded out primitive beats with his feet. Their 1960s-style garage rock sounded raw and scrappy.

It was the culmination of a four-band bill, following a jokey show by the Goblins, who played their covers of the lame ’70s songs they call “Uptown music,” such as the theme to “Welcome Back, Kotter.” Whatever you call it, the original music is lame, and I had no interest in hearing anyone cover it now. Earlier in the night, CoCoComa played a fun set of its noisy rock. And an all-male band from Calgary called Women started out the night with an intriguing set of artistic psychedelic rock. I picked up the album by Women (on the Jagjaguwar label) at the show and was surprised to hear how different it sounds from the band’s live performance. The record’s more layered and strange; the live version was more direct, but still tinged by off-kilter beats and some Syd Barrett-style vocal melodies. In either format, Women is an interesting band that shows promise.

Photos of the King Khan & BBQ Show, Goblins, CoCoComa and Women.

Dots & High Dials

Friday night in Chicago offered a number of interesting choices for live music, and I wasn’t certain where to go and what to see until pretty late. It turned out to be a superb double bill of two different concerts.

First, I caught the Legendary Pink Dots at the Empty Bottle. I’ll admit up-front that I’m fairly ignorant about this band’s huge discography. I’ve heard their music a few times over the decades and I’ve always been intrigued, but when I list that long list of records they’ve put out, I don’t even know where to start. Seeing them in concert was as good a place to start as any, even if the songs didn’t mean as much to me as they did to the fans in attendance. It was a solid set of strange songs with touches of electronica, art rock and, heck I don’t know, post-rock? However you categorize the music that Legendary Pink Dots leader Edward Ka-Spel creates, it seems unique to his personality… with some striking lyrics and good melodies amid the weird musical textures.

Photos of the Legendary Pink Dots.

I thought the Dots show would be it for me last night, but a friend texted me that the High Dials were still getting ready for their very-much-under-the-radar gig at Sterephonic Sound, an old warehouse now used as a recording studio near Belmont and Western. It took me a little while to find the place… until I noticed the handwritten sign posted on a gate directing concertgoers to rear door. The High Dials are a cool Montreal band playing the sort of jangly psychedelic guitar rock that ’80s and ’90s indie-rock groups emulating ’60s “Nuggets” records used to play, and I first became familiar with them a few years back, when they put out War of the Wakening Phantoms and I heard some of their songs on a sampler from that excellent label Rainbow Quartz. I’d lost track of the band recently, yet here they were, playing a lively gig in front of 25 or so fans in a warehouse. They complained that it’s tough to book a show in Chicago unless you do it half a year in advance. The High Dials were selling copies of their new double CD, Moon Country, which is out in Canada but not the U.S. Seems like they need better representation on this side of the border. Whatever… It was an all-out performance despite its low profile, and the High Dials sounded even better live than they do on record.

Photos of the High Dials.

Both of these shows were challenging photo shoots. The Empty Bottle provided a few bursts of yellow lighting that were better than the typical camera-unfriendly red lights, and once I made my way closer to the stage during the encore, I snapped a few OK shots. The High Dials played in near darkness, with little more than a desk lamp providing illumination. My photos are pretty grainy as a result, but I felt like leaving the images the way they were instead of trying to use Photoshop functions like “reduce noise,” which is often a futile effort with photos like these. Sometimes, I feel like it’s better just to leave it grainy.