Underground Bee

Bettye LaVette’s a live wire of a singer, rarely letting up on the intensity and feeling that she pours into her music. I’ve had the honor to interview her twice (Read my story last week for Pioneer Press here.) And now I’ve had the privilege of seeing her in concert twice. The last time was at the Old Town School of Folk Music in 2006, and this time (Friday night, Dec. 7) it was at that great little club out in Berwyn, FitzGerald’s. The only disappointment was that Patterson Hood of the Drive-By Truckers, who played on and co-produced her new record, didn’t swing out to Berwyn to join her during the show, despite the fact that he was in the city for a gig earlier in the night at the Empty Bottle. Oh, well. It was a great show anyway, with passionate renditions of songs off her two most recent albums and a few oldies. At a few moments, when the music got quiet, you could hear the usual chatter of people talking over by the bar, but when the band left the stage and LaVette began singing her amazing a cappella version of Sinead O’Connor’s “I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got,” you could have heard a pin drop in the place. With that stunning song — she almost looked ready to collapse from the emotion of it — LaVette exited stage right and it would have been anti-climatic for her to do anything more.

See my photos of Bettye LaVette.

It was sort of sad last year when Robert Pollard said he was giving up touring, but maybe he just needed a break. Not a break from writing music, of course. The guy still plows ahead with more songs than should be humanly possible. I have to admit I’ve had trouble keeping track of all the Pollard music in recent years. I was a little late in getting copies of the two albums Pollard released on the same day in October. Now that I’ve heard them, I’m thinking they’re among the best work he’s done lately. Coast to Coast Carpet of Love has some of the shiny power-pop appeal of latter-day Guided By Voices records, while Standard Gargoyle Decisions has all the idiosyncracies of the classic four-track GBV era.

Pollard played just two concerts on his current “tour,” including one at Chicago’s Metro on Friday (Nov. 30), with several Chicago musicians backing him up: Jason Narducy on bass, Dag Juhlin and Mitch Marlow on guitar and David Suycott on drums. Man, Pollard played a lot of songs from his solo records that I barely recognized. The ones from the two new albums sounded really good, and the crowd loved it. In fact, after shooting photos at the front of the venue for about an hour I decided to get out of the mosh pit before either I or my camera got smashed. About halfway through the three-hour concert Pollard began sprinkling in some GBV tunes, and by the end we’d heard classics such as “I Am a Scientist” (a stripped-down version with just Narducy on guitar and Pollard handing the microphone out into the audience for vocals on one verse), “Game of Pricks” and “A Salty Salute.”

It wasn’t quite a GBV concert, but it was a close-enough simulacrum to bring back fond memories of that great band. The opening acts were pretty good. The Party Downers played fairly straightforward garage or punk rock, with the lead singer trying out some Pollard-style mike-twirling and kicks. The Death of Fashion looked and sounded at first like a self-consciously trendy band imitating the Strokes and Franz Ferdinand, but they had some really interesting guitar leads – minimalist and spiky.

See my photos of Robert Pollard and band, Party Downers and the Death of Fashion.

American music is a lot of different things, so it may seem a little presumptuous to call a tour “This is American Music.” But, hey, the four bands touring under this banner are pretty much what you would expect from that title — gritty, loose, rambunctious, drunken roots-rock Americana. The tour came last Thursday (Nov. 29) to the Hideout in Chicago, with Two Cow Garage, Grand Champeen, the Drams and Glossary. The show got started a little late — and Glossary showed up even later — because the Glossary van’s tires were all flat following the previous night’s gig in Kansas City. The musicians in all the bands looked a little bleary, and the show was a little sloppy, but that was exactly what the fans wanted. The thing that made it special was the way the four bands traded off musicians all night long, rapidly rotating spots on the stage with short sets and joining together for many of the songs. There was a real sense of camaraderie.

See my photos of the “This Is American Music” concert at the Hideout.

It’s strange how I won’t go to a particular concert venue for weeks, and then the place books a bunch of shows in a row that I feel like seeing. Last week, it was the Hideout’s turn. First, I was there on Thursday night (Nov. 15) for a strange, marvelous evening with Baby Dee, the pianist and harpist with a new record coming out in January on Drag City (produced by Bonnie “Prince” Billy and Matt Sweeney). Some of Baby Dee’s songs were comedic cabaret tunes about subjects like grizzly bears obsessed with eating Mormon underwear; others were beautiful classical-sounding pieces with touching and personal lyrics. I’m not sure what the world at large will make of Baby Dee when she starts getting more attention, but she’s definitely unique. The opening act was Gary Higgins, whose 1970s folk-rock recordings were overlooked until recent rediscovery. I especially enjoyed his finger picking in alternate tunings on the guitar.

See my photos of Baby Dee and Gary Higgins.

On Friday (Nov. 16) I was back at the Hideout for one of the best (and, so far, overlooked) groups in Chicago, the Singleman Affair. Led by Dan Schneider, the band has really grown from a lovely one-man recording project to a group with an organic sound that can rock out and create evocative and psychedelic moods. They sounded great on Friday, with a bunch of enthusiastic fans. In fact, the Singleman Affair was just the opening act. The headliners were the Vermont duo MV & EE, whom I had just heard for the first time a day or two earlier. I really dug their new album, Gettin’ Gone, which has some of the raw electricity of Neil Young and Crazy Horse, though it’s a little shaggier and messier than that. I suppose these folks might be lumped into the so-called “freak folk” movement, but they seem more like folkie roots-rock hippies to me. For whatever it’s worth. Anyway, their show was a little lackluster for me. Just the two of them played, and the songs were practically drowned in feedback and reverb. It would have been better with a full band or with more acoustic songs. The room was pretty empty as they droned. Still, I’m impressed with their recordings, and I love their hand-drawn CD and LP covers. I think I’ll be delving more into the MV & EE catalog despite my disappointment with the concert.

See my photos of MV & EE and the Singleman Affair.

On Saturday (Nov. 17), the Hideout hosted a 10th anniversary party for one of the coolest record stores in Chicago (yes, there are still a few left), Laurie’s Planet of Sound. All three of the bands playing were fronted by current or former employees of the record store. Adam Fitz started the night with his rocking soul, followed by the pummeling hard rock of Vee Dee. Headlining was Miss Alex White & the Red Orchestra, were had another reason to celebrate: the release of White’s new CD, Space & Time, a blast of lively garage rock. The show was just as lively as the CD, with a couple of the Mucca Pazza horn players joining the band for a few songs.

See my photos of Miss Alex White, Adam Fitz and Vee Dee.

I see so many concerts that it’s easy to get a little jaded about the whole experience – to take it for granted – but every once in a while, I see a show that reminds me of how special it is to see a great musician performing live. The show last night (Nov. 12) by Neil Young at the Chicago Theatre was one of those concerts.

I’d seen Young only once before – a searing show with Crazy Horse on the Ragged Glory tour. I don’t know why I’ve missed seeing him on so many other occasions, but for some reason, the current Chrome Dreams II tour seemed like a can’t-miss concert. And it was.

Seemingly random letters decorated the skeletal billboards behind the stage – like some sign with missing letters along an old highway. After a pleasant opening set by Neil’s wife, Pegi Young, an announcement urged fans not to call out song requests, since the set list had been predetermined. That did not stop people from yelling out song titles, though, or singing “Happy Birthday” to Neil, who turned 62 yesterday.

Neil played the first half of the show by himself, playing acoustic guitars, banjo and piano on a few newer songs and several classics. Despite some occasional shouts from the crowd – and some signing along – the guitar notes and Neil’s distinctive sounded so crystal clear in that beautiful auditorium. I struck me how similar this felt to some of the more intimate acoustic concerts I’ve seen at places like Schubas. Sure, I was sitting farther back this time (I had a seat near the back of the main floor, with a good view), and the room was much bigger with a lot more listeners, but somehow it felt just as intimate.

Sitting down at a psychedelically painted grand piano, Young played “A Man Needs A Maid,” simulating the string section with a Mellotron-like synthesizer sitting on top of the piano. That made the arrangement a little awkward, but it was charmingly primitive. In between songs during this first set, Young sometimes walked around his instruments in an absent-minded way, as if he were trying to decide what song to play or what instrument to use. There was a second piano over on the other side of the stage, an old upright, and when he sat down there with a harmonica, everyone knew he was about to play “After the Gold Rush.”

Young didn’t talk much. He told one story about catching crawdads when he was in a two-room schoolhouse and scaring girls with them. I was spellbound for this entire set, and I only wish it had gone on a little longer.

After a 20-minute intermission, Young was back with his band (Rick Rosas, Ben Keith and Ralph Molina). The concert featured the unusual gimmick of a painter working on a canvas near the back of the set, who also placed paintings on an easel at the front of the stage. Each painting included the title of the song about to be played. The electric set was a great mix of old and new, opening with classics “The Loner” and “Everybody Knows This is Nowhere.” I was ecstatic to hear “Winterlong,” which has always been one of my favorite Neil tunes. (The audience response to it was a little muted, though… maybe I’m alone in the “Winterlong” cult.) My favorite tracks on Chrome Dreams II are the ones where Neil tears it up Crazy Horse-style, and in concerts, these songs sounded perfect alongside the old ones. In particular, the set closing epic “No Hidden Path” was a stunning showcase for Young’s electric guitar soloing. The song went on and on, each moment more dramatic than the one before (or so it seemed), finally bringing the crowd to its feet with a mid-song standing ovation.

Other guitarists are more virtuosic, but few have ever bettered Young at feedback-drenched solos. There’s something perfect about the sound he hit upon in the late ’60s and early ’70s. He has such an unusual, intuitive sense of timing when he hits those notes, such a perfect sense of when to make a note loud and when to make it a glancing, half-played clink. And when Neil stretches out, letting a guitar solo take him wherever it will take him, all sense of passing time seems to vanish.

For his encore, Young played “Cinnamon Girl,” that great song that doesn’t sound the least bit dated, with that great chunky guitar riff and that unexpected flourish at the end when the song, by all expectations, should have already ended. As that song finished, a little keyboard decorated with angel wings (or something along those lines) descended from the ceiling. After warming up for a minute with some guitar noodling, Young launched into the opening melody of “Like a Hurricane.” The song sounded fabulous, both during the big chorus (with backup vocals from Pegi Young and Anthony Crawford, who also played keyboards on a few songs) and the extended guitar jams. In the final verse, Young echoed the vocal melody on his guitar, deconstructing the song for a moment before returning one last time to the magnificent chorus.

Watching Young roaming the stage with his electric guitar, watching his fingers roaming up and down the neck of his guitar in search of that perfect note, I thought he seemed as alive as he ever has. It was just about everything I wanted from a Neil Young concert (although, like Dylan or Waits, he has such a huge number of songs that he easily could have played an entirely different set list and pleased me). Certainly one of the year’s best concerts, and a contender for my all-time list.

Set list
ACOUSTIC: From Hank To Hendrix / Ambulance Blues / Sad Movies / A Man Needs A Maid / No One Seems To Know / Harvest / After the Gold Rush / Mellow My Mind / Love Art Blues / Love Is a Rose / Old Man

ELECTRIC: The Loner / Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere / Dirty Old Man / Spirit Road / Bad Fog Of Loneliness / Winterlong / Oh, Lonesome Me / The Believer / No Hidden Path

ENCORE: Cinnamon Girl / Like A Hurricane

French-Canadian rockers Malajube – for my money, one of the best of the many great bands coming out of Montreal these days – were back in town Friday (Nov. 9) for a show at the Empty Bottle. Like the show earlier this year at the Beat Kitchen, this one was high-energy and filled with terrific songs off the 2006 album Trompe L’Oeil, as well as a few I didn’t recognize, including one that was more like straight-up punk than the rest of Malajube’s artsy post-punk. Word is that Malajube will have a new record out by next fall, and I can’t wait.

I showed up halfway through the first band, Light Pollution, who were a likable if not terribly distinctive band of the quasi-orchestral (violins and accordions plus rock) variety. I wouldn’t mind checking them out again. The second band was Chicago’s Jai-Alai Savant, who put on a pretty lively show of classic rock meets dub… or something like that. And best of all, they brought their own lights and briefly illuminated the dim cavern known as the Empty Bottle.

See my photos of Malajube, Light Pollution and the Jai-Alai Savant.

Talk about an unwieldy name. Broken Social Scene Presents Kevin Drew, “Spirit If…” That’s the title of the new record by… by… well, is it a Broken Social Scene album? Or a Kevin Drew solo record? Or somewhere in between? Such are the ways of Canadian rock collectives, I guess. In any case, it’s a nice record, and the band came to town Saturday night (Nov. 3) for a sold-out show at Metro. (I guess that confusing title didn’t confuse ticket buyers.)

With an opening set by Arthur & Yu, this was essentially a Broken Social Scene concert, stripped down just a little bit – a mere six musicians onstage, and no Feist – but with a lot of the joyful, anarchic spirit that typifies the band. The first part of the concert focused on songs from the new “Spirit If…” record, which is, for my money, about as good as anything BSS has done. The group tossed in a cover of the Dinosaur Jr. song “The Wagon,” and BSS member Brendan Canning moved over to the main mike for a forthcoming song of his own (probably from a “Broken Social Scene Presents Brendan Canning” album slated for a May release from Arts & Crafts). Andrew Kenney of American Analog Set was sitting in on keyboards, and he took the mike for an AmerAnSet tune.

The BSS fans at the front of the Metro were waving their arms with joy during many of the songs, especially when the band played some of its older “hits” near the end. It was an enjoyable concert for most of its duration, but then it went on a bit long for me, stretching past the 2 1/2-hour mark. For the final half-hour, the concert devolved into more of a loose basement party with lots of rambling talk in between the songs. Drew came across as more of a friend than a rock star, but after a while, it was hard not to wish that he would just play a song. Still, all in all, a good show. When Broken Social Scene hit its stride, its songs had all the catchy qualities of pop anthems and all the cycling strengths of shoegazer rock.

See my photos of Broken Social Scene Presents Kevin Drew and opening act Arthur & Yu.

One of the best surprises this year at SXSW was a band from Athens, Ga., called the Whigs. They came to Chicago Friday (Nov. 2), with their next album in the can and scheduled for a January release. A hard-rocking trio with a touch of power pop and classic rock in their arsenal, the Whigs sounded pretty damn good once again, though it was the songs from their first album that still stood out for me, especially the keyboard-driven “Half a World Away.” I guess I’ll have to hear the new songs on record to see how they measure up.

See my photos of the Whigs.

I was also eager to see openers the Broken West, whom I’ve written about before. This L.A. band has a really good record out on Merge, I’ll Go On I Can’t Go On, though when I saw them play in concert earlier this year, I though the band was playing versions of the songs that sounded a little too safe and close to the studio recordings. What a difference a few months have made. Maybe the band was just “on” Friday night, or maybe they’ve loosened up during all of the recent touring. Either way, they really sounded alive, added that looseness that the songs needed. They also surprised with a couple of unusual cover choices: “Back in Your Head,” a song from Tegan and Sara’s new record, The Con, and Donovan’s “Season of the Witch.”

The first band of the night was Wild Sweet Orange. The group’s drummer had broken his ankle a few days earlier, hence the mostly drummerless performance. I’m not familiar with the group’s songs, but they sounded all right to me on first listen.

See my photos of the Broken West and Wild Sweet Orange.

I have three albums by the Icelandic group Múm, including the new one, Go Go Smear the Poison Ivy, but I have to admit they’re the sort of records that sound pleasant to me and then wash past without leaving too much of an impression. I suppose I should spend more time burrowing into these recordings, because the group leaves much more of an impression on me in concert. I saw Múm a few years ago at the Logan Square Auditorium, and they returned to the same venue last Thursday (Nov. 1) for another show. It was an evening of beautiful sounds, an enchanting weave of electronica, standard rock instruments and lots of folkie devices (Melodica, autoharp, ukulele), with some passionate vocals. The two female singers in Múm smile a lot, as if they’re enjoying every second of putting across their music.

The opening act was Tom Brosseau, a singer-songwriter who invariably plays solo with his acoustic guitar, crooning out pretty tunes with slightly archaic-sounding words. His eyes could bore a hole in you as he sings. Toward the end of his set, he commented on the people talking at the back of the room while insisting on singing a song that required hushed quiet to match the revealing nature of the lyrics and the soft melody.

See my photos of Múm and Tom Brosseau.

Did I mention that I saw Bruce Springsteen a couple of weeks ago? No, I suppose not. Believe it or not, it was my first time seeing the Boss. I’ve never really disliked Springsteen, but I just did not get into his music for many years while everyone else was raving about him. I’ve always liked “Born to Run,” but I got sick to death of all the Born in the U.S.A. back when that album was big. And by then, those early E Street Band songs already seemed like a cliché to me. But Springsteen’s sort of worn me down over the years into a more respectful attitude. I like his latest record, Magic, pretty well, especially when it adds a bit of Pet Sounds to that Spector/Springsteen wall of sound.

So, I finally gave in and decided to witness the Springsteen concert experience firsthand (on Oct. 22). Well, as close to “firsthand” as you can get sitting in a nosebleed seat at the back of the United Center. I think this was almost exactly the same spot where I sat a few years ago for concerts by the Rolling Stones and Paul McCartney. In all three cases, I bought the cheapest ticket I could find just to get the long-distance version of seeing these legends perform in the flesh. It’s a worthwhile way to see a concert if you’ve got no other choice, but it did seem strange thinking how different it is from my usual experience of standing right next to the stage at a place like Schubas or Metro and seeing a musician three or four feet away from me. So here I am sitting in the top deck of the United Center looking the length of a basketball floor and more at this stage way off in the distance. Those little ant-like figures down there? One of those is the Boss! And hey, I can look at him on a video screen if I really want to see. But then… it’ll be like watching it on TV, won’t it? Oh, well…

Not being a true Springsteen aficonado, I don’t feel qualified to say a whole lot about how the concert stacked up other than to say it was a pretty entertaining set, with both new and old songs. When the house lights came on near the end of the concert, and Springsteen took a request from a teenager standing at the front of the general-admission area (“Thunder Road”), it felt about as much like a big, happy party as a big, corporate concert can feel.

SET LIST: Radio Nowhere / Prove It All Night / Lonesome Day / Gypsy Biker / Magic / Reason to Believe / Candy’s Room / She’s the One / Livin’ in the Future / The Promised Land / Tunnel of Love / Spirit in the Night / Darlington County / Devil’s Arcade / The Rising / Last to Die / Long Walk Home / Badlands / ENCORE: Thunder Road / Born to Run / Dancing in the Dark / American Land

It isn’t easy being a Fiery Furnaces fan. Oh, I know there are hard-core fans who’ll disagree, people who love every song on the albums as well as the concerts. Sometimes, I love the band myself. There’s no denying they’re among the most creative musicians on the scene today, but they also seem almost deliberately difficult and frustrating. All of those manic musical changes and jabberwocky rushes of words can be a bit much to take. The new Fiery Furnaces album, Widow City starts out great, with some strong tracks, and then meanders into boredom in the second half.

In concert, the group’s always been problematic. A few fans love the way the band cuts up and rearranges its songs in concert, turning them into medleys decipherable only by those who have memorized every note and word of every record. As far as I could tell, they didn’t do that sort of rearranging last night (Oct. 31) at Logan Square Auditorium. But the Furnaces did persist in playing keyboard-heavy versions of their songs. The tunes blended together until they became almost indistinguishable. The first couple of times I saw the group, Matt Friedberger played guitar, and even his sister, singer Eleanor, played guitar a little bit. Now, the band is playing without any guitar at all. Last night, Matt remained sitting behind three keyboards all night. A slight improvement over previous keyboard-heavy Furnaces concerts, yesterday’s show at least featured one keyboard with a piano sound. I’d rather hear Matt playing piano than making those insanely swirly organ noises all night long. He’s such a talented guy, but he’s not doing himself any favors by drowning his complex compositions in a bunch of bleeding organ notes. Quick, someone, take that organ away from him.

Eleanor was typical Eleanor, delivering all those verbose lyrics (how the heck does she remember them all?) with a cool, almost calm delivery. It was Halloween, and she was wearing a dress printed with ancient Egyptian images and references, and she played around with a toy snake and a skull face at various times. The concert started off with some of the better songs from Widow City, including “Philadelphia Grand Jury.” And the show finished with a strong encore, including two of the more direct songs from the Furnaces’ early days, “Don’t Dance Her Down” and “Tropical Iceland.”

I still count myself as a Fiery Furnaces fan and I continue to admire the band, but the concert experience is feeling like too much of an ordeal for me. The band is what it is, and I’m sure they don’t listen to people like me for advice, but I’d love to see them perform with more musicians playing all of those complex and varied parts on the studio recordings. Or at least give us more variety of keyboard sounds. And how about some guitar?

The opening act was Pit er Pat. The trio has a decent sound, with a touch of artsy experimentation and trance… and a lot fewer lyrics than the Fiery Furnaces.

See my photos of the Fiery Furnaces and Pit er Pat.

When Great Lake Swimmers began, the band was basically just Tony Dekker singing very quiet songs in a barn. (At least, it sounds like it was in a barn.) Very lovely, understated stuff. (Insert standard Nick Drake reference here.) Over the course of two more records, Great Lake Swimmers has developed into more of an actual band, though the focus is still very much on Dekker, his simple yet alluring melodies and evocative words and that beautiful tenor of his. Earlier this year, Great Lake Swimmers released a fine record called Ongiara, the sort of album that may not grab you by the lapels right away but will eventually grab you. It’s such a nice listen.

Great Lake Swimmers played a haunting little show Sunday (Oct. 28) at Schubas, enchanting from beginning to end. Dekker threw in a couple of cool covers, Joni Mitchell’s “A Case of You” (how appropriate, given that Dekker’s a Canadian folkie) and Hank Williams’ “Angel of Death.”

The opening was Tiny Vipers, who played hushed and slow folk music. The crowd listened in utter quiet, and there was a palpable sense of stillness in the room.

See my photos of Great Lake Swimmers and Tiny Vipers.

When I heard that one of Scotland Yard Gospel Choir’s two main songwriters, Matt Kerstein, had left the group to form Brighton MA, I was worried about the SYGC’s fate. As it turns out, as a result of that split, we now have two good bands. The Choir has continued on, with Elia Einhorn taking firmer control of the enterprise. And, yet, it still has the same communal spirit it used to have, with alternating male and female vocals and plenty of musical guests floating in and out. I feel a little guilty about being a lazy music critic and mentioning the similarities to Belle & Sebastian, but they are sort of hard to miss. (Hey, I once walked into Laurie’s Planet of Sound to do a little record shopping, and there was Elia in the store – gushing about a new book on Belle & Sebastian.)

On its new self-titled album (its first for Bloodshot Records), the Scotland Yard Gospel Choir presents nine superb songs, with excellent melodies and lyrics. The Belle vibe is still there, though the Choir explores other variations of Brit pop, too. They may be a Chicago band, but they use phrases like “in hospital” and sing about apsidistras, for crying out loud. (Elia’s a native of Wales, so I guess he’s got an excuse.)

The group took the idea of a CD release party quite literally on Friday night (Oct. 26) at the Empty Bottle, festooning the stage with colored balloons and putting out dishes of candy for audience members. The main opening act was Mr. Ash, an older magician with plenty of Borscht Belt shtick and some still impressive prestidigitation moves. Kelly Hogan emceed, and Jon Langford (whose art studio is near Ash’s magic shop) also took part in the magic tricks. One trick involved two handkerchiefs being placed in Hogan’s bodice, and when Ash and Langford pulled them out, a bra was attached. Mr. Ash told the audience to remember the magic word for the night, which was “Scotland Yard!” Langford played a few songs, too, and then a couple of young women calling themselves “The Edge” dueled with light sabers in front of the stage. Finally, Scotland Yard Gospel Choir took the stage for a pretty good run-through of its new songs (with one even newer song). All in all, twas a fun time.

See my photos of Scotland Yard Gospel Choir.

Even though I like to think of myself as someone who follows indie-rock and the music biz fairly closely, I obviously have huge gaps in my knowledge of what’s going on. For one thing, I listen very little to rock radio stations (just not enough time… and when I do listen, it tends to be KEXP online). So I occasionally find myself surprised at what is popular and what isn’t. I show up at a concert thinking it will be just another show by an indie band with a modest cult following… only to discover that the group has somehow developed a huge following of fanatically devoted listeners. This happened a couple of years ago when I shot photos of Death Cab For Cutie at Lollapalooza, unawre of the fact the band’s songs had played on TV shows and attracted a lot of young fans. So I was stunned to see a throng of teenage girls at the front of the crowd. Wait a minute, I thought, these are Death Cab For Cutie fans? I was also surprised last year at how intense the fans were at a concert by Stars at Metro, singing along with so many of the words.

Thursday (Oct. 25) was a similar experience, when I went to see the Weakerthans at Metro. Beforehand, I had been thinking it was odd that they were booked to play at such a large venue. I thought these Manitobans would be more likely to attract a Schubas-size crowd. Boy, was I wrong. I don’t think the show sold out, but it was very full – full of lots of young people who have obviously been listening a lot to those Weakerthan records. On many songs, a sizable chunk of the audience was singing along to most of the words, hanging on every line as if it had some deep meaning for them. The Weakerthans deserve success, so I was heartened to see them breaking through to a bigger audience, even if it did feel a little surreal to me. The Weakerthans put on an excellent show, not exactly jamming on John Samson’s tightly constructed pop songs, but playing them with lots of vigor. Samson has a penchant for quirky lyrics, which made it even weirder to hear the audience singing along (though he skipped the one on the new record about wishing he were a toothbrush or solder gun).

I’ve still got to catch up on the 2000 Weakerthans record Left and Leaving, which several fans have recommended to me now, but I do love the group’s 2004 release Reconstruction Site and I like the new one Reunion Tour, especially that fab power-pop song about the sport of curling, of all things, “Tournament of Hearts.” (At least, that’s what the press release said the song was about. Not being familiar with the details of curling, I have to take the publicist’s word for it.) That song and many of the other Weakerthans tracks are anchored by Jason Tait’s superb drumming, which was a real pleasure to hear in concert.

Canadian singer-songwriter Jim Bryson, who is touring with the Weakerthans as a guitarist and keyboardist, did a solo show as the first act of the night. It was a little on the awkward side, with lots of pauses and banter in the middle of songs and inexplicable running back and forth between microphones, but Bryson made it all fairly charming with his self-effacing humor.

See my photos of the Weakerthans and Jim Bryson.

The second act of the night was the Last Town Chorus, aka Megan Hickey, whom I’ve written about before. She put on a pretty good set, though she seemed oddly distracted at times, especially when she was talking between songs. I think I like her live show better than her studio recordings, especially when she gets more radical with what she’s playing on her lap-steel guitar. It’d be nice to hear her playing with more backing musicians.

See my photos of the Last Town Chorus.

Schubas had a great double bill last night (Oct. 24), with Dappled Cities from Australia and the Figurines from Denmark. I’ve wanted to see Dappled Cities since hearing their wonderful record Granddance this spring. The Figurines have a good record out, too, called When the Dear Wore Blue. The show was a little sparsely attended at first, even though Dappled Cities got nice writeups in the local press.

The first band of the night was The Dead Trees, who played fairly appealing roots rock mixed with straight-ahead rock. Given the fact that they sounded somewhat like a Replacements wannabe group, some of their songs had surprisingly sophisticated melodies and harmonies. At other times, they feel a bit into rock cliches, but on the whole, I thought they were enjoyable.

Dappled Cities’ two singers both fall into the category of guys who seem to want to sound like girls when they open their mouths into front of a microphone. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I love a good falsetto. The group said they’d played a terrible show the night before in Minneapolis with an unappreciative crowd, and they promised to do their best show ever for us Chicagoans. It was a very good performance indeed. The songs sounded just as pretty as they do on the record, but they rocked more, sounding almost epic during some of the instrumental jams. I loved it.

The Figurines were the headliners, though I’d rank them a little bit below Dappled Cities myself. They were enjoyable, too, however. I’ve been thinking that their record sounds like Clap Your Hands Say Yeah doing Pet Sounds. Eh, maybe my musical references are off. I didn’t hear that much of the Beach Boys sound in concert, and the yelping vocals weren’t quite as cracked as Clap Your Hands. The music was spirited and catchy, in any case.

See my photos of the Figurines, Dappled Cities and the Dead Trees.

It’s been a while since I’ve seen Aimee Mann (I interviewed her way back when – read the interview here), and the show last night (Oct. 23) at Park West was a reminder of what an excellent songwriter and performer she is. The concert was not a regularly advertised one. Sponsored by Miller Beer and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as part of the “The Craft” concert series, it was a combination concert and interview. Talking with with Warren Zanes in three interview segments in between the songs, Mann discussed songwriting, boxing and watching “Law and Order” reruns. The interviews were interesting, though I would have liked a little less talk and a little more music. Playing with just two backing musicians (bass and keyboards), Mann played spare and beautiful versions of her songs, including four tunes from a newly finished album that will be coming out in the spring, Smilers (or, rather $@!%*$%! Smilers. It was also great to hear a couple of songs from the Magnolia soundtrack, including her cover of One.

Check out spin.com’s review of the show, which features my photos.

Set list: Little Bombs / Little Tornadoes / 31 Today / You Could Make a Killing / Save Me / Columbus Avenue / Lost in Space / Freeway / Wise Up / One

See my photos of Aimee Mann.

The Raveonettes have a new record coming out in Europe, though it seems like we might need to wait a little while before it arrives on these shores. The band itself came from Denmark, though, for a tour including a stop last night (Oct. 19) at the Empty Bottle. It was just about everything you could have asked for from this oh-so-cool guy-girl duo (except well-lit, but that’s another story…), with a series of feedback-drenched riffs, beats pounded on a very minimal drum kit and chilly harmonies. The new songs sound great. Can’t wait till the record shows up. The opening acts were decent, too. The members of the trio Gliss spent all night switching instruments (everyone played everything except the gal, who manned drums and bass but no guitar), with some fairly catchy songs. Nicole Atkins & the Sea was the middle act of the night, with a bunch of super-enthusiastic fans egging her on as she sang some fairly straightforward rock and pop tunes. The super enthusiasm continued during the Raveonettes set.

See my photos of the Raveonettes, Gliss and Nicole Atkins.

The Mekons brought their Natural tour to a crazy and glorious conclusion last night (Oct. 12) with two amplified shows in Chicago, starting out at the venerable Hideout and then taking two CTA buses (North Avenue, followed by Western Avenue) to the Mutiny, which is a true punk-rock pit of a performance space for a free late show. I knew it would be a great night, my only doubt being the lack of singer Tom Greenhalgh, who had to head back home to England while the tour was still under way to attend to the birth of his fourth child. The Mekons without Tom? Not to worry. The band made up for his absence by recruiting an all-star cast of guest vocalists. Well, not exactly all-star – a few friends and/or audience members joined the band at a few points. But there were plenty of stars, an unexpected surprise that turned this night into a raucous celebration of what the Mekons are all about. (It was also a cool benefit with all proceeds going to Doctors Without Borders. Mekon Sally Timms noted that even the band members and club members paid to get in.)

The Hideout portion of the night started with a goofy opening set by Leonardo, the King of Rock, an Elvis impersonator with an iPod strapped to his wrist for karaoke versions of Elvis hits. He had a dancing chick, who seemed to be there strictly for the visuals. And then Tim Tuten, looking pretty dapper in a suit and hat, took the stage for one of his trademark intros – except that his intro this time was a little different than the typical prologue. Sounding like a gospel preacher, Tuten yelled out the lyrics to a few Mekons songs from a book he was holding in his hands. As he left and the Mekons mounted the stage, Sally Timms wryly remarked, “At least one person knows the words.”

The Mekons ran through a nice selection of old and new to relatively new tunes, including an especially rousing “Thee Olde Trip to Jerusalem.” The first guest vocalist of the night was the always-wonderful Kelly Hogan, who did a fab version of one of my favorite songs of all time, “Fletcher Christian.” And then, a few songs later, a big surprise – Will Oldham of Bonnie “Prince” Billy fame bounded onto the stage in a ratty tanktop that appeared to be about 50 years old, and sang a rendition of “Beaten and Broken” that sounded not that far off from Greenhalgh’s spirit. Chris Mills took the mike for “Heaven and Back,” which featured the usual leg kicks. After rousing the crowd with a lively “Last Dance,” the encore (before which the band did not bother leaving the stage) was the always-welcome “Wild and Blue” waltz.

And then it was off to the Mutiny. I have to confess the one portion of this extravaganza that I skipped was the bus ride. Having my car at the Hideout, I decided to drive instead. From what I hear, the CTA ride went smashingly well, without any time waiting for buses. Amazing. The Mutiny is a real dive, with no stage to speak of. Bands play way in the back, past a pool table, on a platform that is raised about six inches from the main floor. Junk is piled all over the place, including a vacuum cleaner, mop and bucket and barbecue-grill lid, which were on the floor near the spot I snagged, and a TV and bicycle stacked behind the “stage” on the other side. The lighting consists of two little lamps clamped to the low ceiling. If you’re standing more than a few feet back from the band and it’s crowded, good luck seeing anything. The place never charges a cover, and a sign in the front door says the bar is looking for bands to play. Boy, did they find one on Friday night.

Paul Burch did a nice little opening set of his country music, concluding with an excellent cover of the Undertones’ “Teenage Kicks,” featuring Tracy Dear on lead vocals. Tuten introduced the Mekons again, talking up this show at the Mutiny as if it were the culimnation of their 30-year career. Then the Mekons launched into a more punk-centric set, opening with that song they sang three decades ago, “Never Been in a Riot.” The next surprise of the night came when they asked if Ted Leo was in the bar. It took a few minutes to find one, but then, sure enough, Leo squeezed his way through the crowd and took the microphone for another Mekons punk classic, “Where Were You?” At his request, he then sang “Corporal Chalkie,” after the Mekons spent a minute working out exactly what the chords were for this tune they obviously hadn’t prepared to play. Jon Langford did the a cappella rant “The Building” next.

Timms remarked, “We’re all guests tonight. The Mutiny is all about guests.” Langford: “We don’t have just one guest replacing Tom Greenhalgh.” Timms: “We have an Army.”

Oldham returned, this time singing “Fletcher Christian,” with Hogan chiming in, too. He then reprised “Beaten and Broken.” After Oldham and Hogan got super close at the mike, Langford cracked, “It’s like Donnie and Marie.” Timms: “In some alternate universe.” Oldham: “In a right universe.” Throughout the rest of the night, Oldham was standing behind the band, often jumping up and down with his arms raised above his head.

Uncle Dave sang “Fantastic Voyage,” Chris Mills did “Heaven and Back” again, and Tracy Dear did “Curse.” And when it was time for another encore-without-actually-leaving-the-stage, Langford said, “There’s only one more song we can did.” And then came that all-time-great roar of guitars, “Memphis, Egypt.” The fans pogoing up and down in front of the stage apparently hit one of the two lights, as it went dark halfway through the song. And it all came to a sweaty end.

Hideout set list
Abernant / Wine or Money / Oblivion / Tina / Thee Old Trip to Jerusalem / Fletcher Chrisian (with Kelly Hogan) / Millionaire / Hole in the Ground / Ghosts of American Astronauts / Beaten and Broken (with Will Oldham) / Slightly South of the Border / Heaven and Back (with Chris Mills) / Last Dance / Wild and Blue

Mutiny set list
Never Been in a Riot / Millionaire / Burning (with Martin ?) / Where Were You (with Ted Leo) / Corporal Chalkie (with Ted Leo) / The Building / Fletcher Christian (with Will Oldham and Kelly Hogan) / Beaten and Broken (with Will Oldham and Kelly Hogan) / Gogo Para Presidente excerpt (with Barry Mills) / I Love Apple (with Barry Mills) / Big Zombie / Fantastic Voyage (with Uncle Dave) / Hard to be Human / Heaven and Back (with Chris Mills) / Curse (with Tracy Dear) / Memphis, Egypt

See my photos of the Mekons and guests.

It’s time to catch up on some concerts from the past few days, which I managed to sandwich in between some movies at the Chicago International Film Festival and the Gene Siskel Film Center’s Iranian film fest.

Friday night came to a lovely end with a late show by Nina Nastasia & Jim White. It did seem a little odd that Nastasia, an acoustic-guitar-playing singer-songwriter, would give her drummer double billing on her new album, but he is the great Jim White, after all, and he earns the unusual name above the credits. In concert, it sounded like an unusual duet (or duel) between guitar and drums. I was standing right in front of White, so the drums were a bit too loud for me during some passages, but it was always interesting to hear White’s unpredictable patterns tangling with Nastasia’s strings. Her songs were pretty and plaintive. See my photos of Nina Nastasia and Jim White.

The opening act was Jim Becker, Scott Tuma, Emmett Kelly and Joe Adamik – two guys from Califone (Becker and Adamik), utility player and occasional Bonnie “Prince” Billy backer Kelly, and a former member of the grievously overlooked Souled American, Scott Tuma. They played slow and beautifully rustic music. When they sang, it sounded like folk. When they didn’t sing, it sounded like experimental drone music mixed with Americana. See my photos of Becker, Tuma, Kelly and Adamik.

On Saturday, I caught the Clark Street Bridge Percussion Orchestra, which was exactly what it sounds like: people hitting the Clark Street Bridge with drumsticks and mallets. It was a cool idea, and the organizers and musicians pulled it off. The first half was conducted by Eric Roth, who had composed a series of pieces for the occasion. Surprisingly quiet, a hushed crowd listened closely as several players tapped and tinged on the bridge with beats that sounded not that far off from a marching band, but with interesting polyrhythmic layers. And then came a half-four free-for-all, with volunteers hitting the bridge at random, the clatter coalescing into patterns. By the end, I think it was finally loud enough to hear from some distance. See my photos of the Clark Street Bridge Percussion Orchestra.

On Sunday, the Museum of Contemporary Art hosted a free afternoon of music, celebrating its current exhibit, “Sympathy for the Devil,” which looks at the connections between rock and contemporary art. I wasn’t able to stick around for the whole afternoon. I had a ticket for a film at the Chicago film fest, so I missed the late-afternoon performances by the Eternals and Flosstradamus with the Cool Kids. But before that, it was a really fun event (it was so warm that the tent was really unnecessary), featuring lively punk by Headache City and the Poster Children, the efferverscent pop of the 1900s and the moody soundscapes of Califone.

See my photos of Headache City.

See my photos of the Poster Children.

See my photos of the 1900s.

See my photos of Califone.

You could tell what sort of concert it was going to be last night (Oct. 4) at Park West by looking at the stage: Just two chairs on an almost bare stage, each facing two microphones, no guitar pedals or fancy gear. This was going to be a night of quiet guitar, unadorned by special effects. The opening act was a Brit named James Blackshaw, who plucked a 12-string guitar on pretty instrumental songs. The roadies then came out and took away his chair, leaving the one behind it for José González.

González, of course, is the Argentine-Swede balladeer who released the superb collection Veneer in Europe in 2003, finally breaking through to American audiences a couple of years after that. His new album, In Our Nature, is another fine bunch of quiet, serene folk songs. González is not necessarily the most expressive live perfomer. He doesn’t move much or show a ton of emotion, except in his own subtle way. It’s a real pleasure to hear his classical technique on the guitar (a little bit of classical music, a little bit of Nick Drake, a little bit of Antonio Carlos Jobim) and his soft singing. A microphone was sitting on the floor in front of González to catch the sound of his white-sneakered feet tapping, though even his tapping was pretty darn soft.

The crowd watched sitting down, including a bunch of people on the floor right in front of the stage, who gave him some very appreciative applause. During his encore, González did a nice (and for him, pretty lively) cover of Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear Us Apart.”

See my photos of José González.

Lately, it seems like a lot of bands are showing up in Chicago before their new albums come out. Sometimes just a week or two before the CD release. Is the idea that people are already hearing the music through early leaks? Or are they trying to stoke interest in the new records, create some buzz? In either case, the result is that you see bands playing songs that much of the audience is unfamiliar with. Not necessarily a bad thing, but it does make me wonder what’s going on behind this trend.

In the case of Black Mountain, the band has a new record in the can, but not scheduled for release for some time. In the Future is coming out way in the future – or at least, it seems like it. January is the release date. Yes, I’ve heard the new record, and it’s good, though it’s a little hard for me to concentrate right now on a 2008 album. The Vancouver band came to the Empty Bottle on Wednesday night (Oct. 3) for a show previewing the new music, and that’s exactly what it delivered. Black Mountain played all but one song from In the Future (I think… assuming they followed their set list), and just couple from the self-titled 2005 debut that fans are more familiar with. The audience seemed to get into the music regardless. There was some serious finger waving and head shaking going on at the Bottle.

Black Mountain has a great sense of what makes epic music. They’re an interesting hybrid of several styles of music. There’s a little bit of Led Zeppelin in their riffs, some moody P.J. Harvey in the singing, a lot of Black Angels-style grooving repetition. The group started out the show with one of its mellower, spookier numbers, “Night Walks” (which closes the new record), before launching into its more familiar guitar rock. For its encore, Black Mountain played the 16-minute epic “Bight Lights,” the second-to-last track on the new record. (The set list I grabbed from the stage says the band followed up that song with “Wild Wind.” If they did, the two songs ran together and I failed to notice.) The new songs sounded excellent in concert, standing up well to the older tracks.

Opening act was the Cave Singers, a new outfit on Matador Records doing some pensive acoustic music, with occasional touches of folk blues. Not bad, but I wasn’t super thrilled.

See my photos of Black Mountain.

I guess it’s not surprising for a Tuesday night concert, but it’s too bad more of a crowd didn’t turn out last night (Oct. 2) to see Oakley Hall at Schubas. They’re a terrific band, taking some Fairport Convention-style English folk with male and female vocals and updating it with psychedelic flourishes and some loud guitar jamming. They put on a very good show last night, with songs from all three of their recent albums, including the new I’ll Follow You, out recently on Merge Records. There was a joyous energy to the show, culminating with a rave-up version of “Having Fun Again.” Oakley Hall recently played some gigs with Chicago’s The 1900s as the opening band, and most of the 1900s were in attendance last night. Oakley Hall dedicated the set to them.

The club was really empty as the night began, a nice moment of musical discovery. A band called Box of Baby Birds played first, performing some really cool and subtle songs. It reminded me a little of Grizzly Bear’s mellowness or the rootsier music of Palliard, with a few bits of Emerson, Lake & Palmer synth thrown in. Cool stuff. Check out the group at: www.myspace.com/boxofbabybirds. The second band of the night was Tight Phantomz, which was not really my cup of tea. The band put on a lively show of hard rock verging on heavy metal.

See my photos of Oakley Hall, Box of Baby Birds and Tight Phantomz.

I made it to two nights of The Wire magazine’s five-day Adventures in Modern Music Festival at the Empty Bottle, returning Sunday night (Sept. 30) to see Japan’s Boris, who are touring with guitarist Michio Kurihara. I’ve been enjoying the album that Boris put out with Kurihara earlier this year, Rainbow, as well as the earlier Boris record Pink. The songs sounded great in concert – loud, pulverizingly loud, with bigger stacks of amps than I’ve ever seen at the Bottle. A big gong behind the drum kit. Lots and lots of fog. But this was not just a wall-of-noise sort of performance. Boris actually shows a lot of range, sounding at times like heavy metal or stoner rock but also quieting down at times, playing and singing (gulp!) recognizable melodies. At the end, as the band came back for an encore, a guy standing near me got excited as he watched Boris’ guitarists change the tuning on their guitars. “They’re tuning down! Drop D! All right!” But then, Boris played one of its most serene songs of the night, not the metal rave-up that the Drop D guy had expected. Far from anticlimatic, it brought the night to a perfect end. See my photos of Boris.

It was an odd triple bill of the sort that you would only see at the Empty Bottle or a fest sponsored by The Wire. The first group of the night was People, a drum and guitar duo with a bizarre sense of humor. I doubt I would want to listen to People’s records, but I’m glad to say I’ve seen them. With three pairs of glasses draped over various parts of his head and torso, drummer Kevin Shea talked a lot between songs (even on top of them) in a seemingly clueless or drugged-out but slightly confrontational monotone. He would start to tell a story and then interrupt himself by abruptly beginning a song when he was halfway through a sentence. After the first song, he told the crowd, “I’ll bet you didn’t think we would start by playing a SONG.” Shea’s drumming was so crazy (think free jazz) that I barely noticed what singer-guitarist Mary Halvorson was playing throughout the set. It was all pretty darn amusing, though People would have outstayed their welcome if they played much longer. See my photos of People.

The second band of the night was Damon & Naomi. I haven’t followed their music, but it was pretty much what I would have expected from people who used to play in Galaxie 500: mellow indie-pop with a soft, slow vibe. It was pretty, but maybe a little too wispy for my tastes. See my photos of Damon & Naomi.

Two Gallants are an intense guitar-and-drums duo from San Francisco. They have little in common with the other guitar-and-drum duos knocking around today’s music world (you know who I mean…). These fellows are a lot folkier, but they sing and play with such passion that it very rarely has the mellowness you might associate with folk. I’d seen them once before, opening for Rogue Wave a few years ago at Schubas, a show that included a memorable moment at the end when Two Gallants took their guitar and drums onto the floor and played a song unamplified, surrounded by a circle of listeners. That sort of thing didn’t happen at the early show last night (Sept. 29) at Schubas, but singer-guitarist Adam Stephens and drummer Tyson Vogel played their songs with a similar feeling of intimacy and immediacy. My favorite parts were the acoustic songs that opened and ended the show. The electric songs in between were good, but sometimes the nonstop aggression of Vogel’s frantic drumming on top of Stephens’ straining vocals can be a bit much for me. I was hoping to hear the great song “Waves of Grain” from the 2006 album What the Toll Tells, but we didn’t get that (at least during the first show of the night), but it was still a pretty strong set. The opening act was Songs For Moms, a female trio from San Francisco that played loud and driving grrrl punk-pop.

See my photos of Two Gallants.

Is it possible for a band to prove its greatness at the same time that one of its concerts is degenerating into a train wreck of forgotten lyrics and aborted songs? It would not seem so, but that’s just part of the wonderful paradox that is the Mekons. Their late show last night (Sept. 28) at the Old Town School of Folk Music might be viewed as an utter failure if judged on the normal terms you judge a concert (Do the musicians remember how to play their songs?), but the Mekons know how to turn that ramshackle rehearsal vibe into something special.

Backing up just a little bit, I should note that the Mekons have been one of my favorite bands for a long time, ever since I saw MTV broadcast a short news segment about the Mekons recording Rock and Roll on A&M in 1989. That prompted me to pick up the record, which I loved, and to see them in concert for the first time, a show at Metro that bowled me over. I loved the great music as well as the playful camaraderie the band put across onstage. And then, oddly enough, a few of the Mekons migrated from England to my very city, Chicago. Jon Langford and Sally Timms became regular fixtures on the local scene. Now they’re easy to take for granted, but last night was a great reminder of how special the Mekons are. Hearing their early ’80s songs once again, I was struck anew by the sing-along melodies and those fabulous words. The Mekons often achieve a wonderful balance of intellectual depth and a colloquial quality in their words and tunes. Just read the lyrics collected in their 2002 book Hello Cruel World, and you’ll see what I mean. Few rock songwriters have ever done it better.

I was also struck recently by how much the Mekons seem like a forerunner of some recent hip bands. Of course, they were pioneers in the field that has become labeled as alt-country, though the Mekons had their own very English blend of country, folk and rock. The arrival of Langford and Timms in Chicago around the same time that Wilco moved to town and Bloodshot Records began had a lot to do with the alt-country revolution in Chicago and elsewhere.

But the Mekons are also an early example of the rock phenomenon that has become known as “the collective.” These days, it seems like everyone in Canada is part of about seven different rock collectives. The Mekons were doing this sort of thing ages ago. Although a few singers and personalities dominate the band, the Mekons always convey the sense that they’re a big bunch of friends collaborating on this project of theirs. The spotlight’s often on Langford, but Tom Greenhalgh, Sally Timms and Rico Bell are all excellent songwriters and singers in their own right, and all of the other musicians in this eight-piece outfit make invaluable contributions, too. Recently, when I saw the Arcade Fire at the Chicago Theatre, the music even sounded a little like the Mekons when the accordion and violins were mixing with the guitars.

Now I’m kicking myself for not seeing both of the shows that the Mekons performed last night at the Old Town School of Folk Music. I quite like the new record they released last month, Natural, an intriguing sort of pastoral music that sounds similar to but somehow different from everything they’ve done before. I interviewed Langford and Timms about the record for a story in Pioneer Press Newspapers, and I also hope to post a transcript from the interview here soon. I was looking forward to hearing the new songs in concert, but for that experience, I needed to be at the early show. The Mekons are playing sit-down shows, all dressed up in suits or formal wear. These concerts aren’t exactly unplugged and mellow affairs, though. The band can’t help but sound lively with all eight of those musicians plugging away at those songs.

For the second show of the night, the Mekons decided to do something different. Instead of playing anything from Natural or other recent records, the band played a set consisting almost entirely of old early-’80s songs from the Sin Records era. I would have liked to hear at least a few of the new songs, but I won’t complain much, because the old songs were a real treat.

The concert seemed to start falling apart a few songs in, when Bell cut off his rendition of Patsy Cline’s “Sweet Dreams,” eventually doing it over at the audience’s insistence. And then Greenhalgh, who was jet-lagged from the previous day’s flight from England and maybe a little intoxicated, too, couldn’t get through his classic tune “Chivalry,” forgetting the lyrics and even having trouble singing them when he used the Mekons’ lyrics book as an aide. After that ramshackle song reached its end, he recited the words like poetry.

Throughout all of this tomfoolery, the Mekons joked about how they should have rehearsed more or played just one concert per night. Sally Timms taunted her bandmates about being unable to sing or recall lyrics, and at a few points people from the audience shouted at the band to play a song. On paper, this may sound like a terrible show, but you have to realize that the Mekons, in addition to being fine musicians and artists, are a damn funny bunch. So, even as they were procrastinating about playing songs, telling stories and forgetting tunes, the band was, as I said, paradoxically proving how great it is. How human. Maybe I should file this concert in the category of “You had to be there.”

Here’s what they played:

Fantastic Voyage
Abernant 1984/85
The Letter
Hole in the Ground
Sweet Dreams
Keep on Hoppin’
Prince of Darkness
Slightly South of the Border
Oblivion
Chivalry
Ghosts of American Astronauts
Lost Highway
Big Zombie
Flitcraft
Hard to be Human
Millionaire
Last Dance
Heaven and Back
Beaten and Broken

Touch and Go Records was kind enough to provide me with a photo pass last night. The Old Town School’s not the easiest venue to photograph in. To avoid blocking the view of audience members, I stayed near the back and shot with my telephoto lens. And I was allowed to shoot only during the first couple of songs, so I missed the later moments when various members of the band stood up to sing at the center microphone. Greenhalgh, in particular, was pretty animated in a loopy way, performing a jet-lag jig of sorts. See my photos of the Mekons.

Pere Ubu is a band like no other. And David Thomas, who for all intents and purposes is Pere Ubu, is a singer and personality like no one else. See Pere Ubu or any David Thomas project at any chance you can. The legendary band was back last night (Sept. 27) for a performance at Empty Bottle, part of The Wire magazine’s annual Adventures in Modern Music Festival.

Thomas was in fine form last night, both as a vocalist and as a cranky eccentric. Drinking beer straight out of a mug, taking frequent drags on cigarettes and blowing clouds of smoke, Thomas wore a black leather hat for a little while last night, but then the hat was off, revealing his nearly bald head, framed by a fuzzy scrim of hair at the top and a fuzzy beard at the bottom. Thomas squints a lot, and when he opens his eyes wide, it’s often to glare at audience members. You might think he was actually a lunatic on an angry rampage, until those moments when he breaks into a smile and lets you know that his stage banter is at least partially a comic routine. He often covered his face when he sang, and then during instrumental passages, he would step back and make an odd yelping motion with his face, like a dog yapping. Thomas has always been a really big guy – big in height as well as girth – and he had a chair handy to sit down whenever his vocals weren’t needed.

Over the course of the night, Thomas described the Empty Bottle crowd as a bunch of “art creeps” (and lest you think he was being insulting, he admitted he is an art creep, too)… challenged the audience to earn an encore by answering a Civil War trivia question (“Name General Lee’s three corps commanders at Appomattox.” Someone correctly named A.P. Hill, and Thomas was duly impressed)… insulted electronica… referred to the “weird bands” that played earlier in the night … heckled a heckler, telling a loud young woman in the crowd that he would eventually have his way with her… and insinuated that Pere Ubu’s keyboard player doesn’t do anything other than hit random keys.

Oh, yeah, what about the songs? Pere Ubu played a bracing selection of songs ranging from oldies like “Sonic Reducer” up through new songs “Caroleen” and “Flames Over Nebraska.” Thomas said Elvis Presley had written the latter song for him, calling him up a couple of years ago and telling him that “Flames Over Nebraska” would be the tune that would finally put Pere Ubu on the charts. It hasn’t worked so far (as Thomas noted sardonically), but Pere Ubu remains a great band appreciated by a few of us art creeps.

Last night’s installment of the AIMM fest began with a nice set of John Fahey-like acoustic guitar instrumentals by Glenn Jones and Jack Rose. A noisy group called Hair Police followed with a set that was, well, pretty darn noisy. And then Ulrich Schnauss immersed the room in his pulsing electronic sounds.

See my photos of Pere Ubu and the other performers last night.

Well, dear reader (assuming anyone is reading – in spite of all the hits I receive and the occasional comment, sometimes I wonder…) Where was I? Oh, yes: Dear reader, sometimes you must wonder if I’m an ignormaus, since I continually admit to being unfamiliar with the music of bands that I see in concert. Here am I again, reporting on a couple of shows the past two nights by bands on whom I lack much expertise. Well, I cannot always claim to be an expert, and I often find that experiencing an artist’s music for the first time in concert is not a bad way to see if you like it.

Anyway, on Tuesday night (Sept. 25) I went to Schubas to see the Aliens, a band from England (CORRECTION: Scotland. Thanks, “Anonymous,” for spotting this error and letting me know. – Ed.) featuring some guys who used to be in the Beta Band. Hey, I can say I’m familiar with the Beta Band, and I had watched a few of the Aliens’ videos on youtube. So I guess I wasn’t totally unaware of what I would be seeing. The Aliens put on a darn good show, with lots of loopy charm that reminded me of the old Beta Band records. Classic rock, a little dash of electronica and dance, cheesy pop sounds and other weirdness all melded together, with lots of jumping up and down. The stage banter seemed to indicate lots of drug use. Or maybe just a peculiar English (CORRECTION: Scottish!) sense of humor. See my photos of The Aliens.

(Photographic note: Man, it’s hard to photograph musicians jumping into the air when you’re in an indoor venue. I swear, I missed about 30 potentially great “jump shots.” Either the jump went way out of my camera’s frame, or my camera did not auto focus fast enough, or it did focus but on the wrong thing. Ugh. I eventually got a few shots, all of them imperfect, but at least they give you some idea of the action that was going on.)

The first act of the night was Kate Johnson, who did a decent, short set of acoustic songs, joined by a couple of the Aliens on harmonies. There were about six people in the room when she started playing, but it filled up pretty well by the end of the night. The second act was a band I’m somewhat familiar with, an Australian outfit called Augie March. Interesting to see a band from Australian named after the title character of a book set in Chicago … coming to play a concert in Chicago. I have the Augie March album from a few years ago, and I liked it, but I have to say it’s one of those zillions records that got stored away and never listened to again. They put on a pretty good concert of tuneful rock/pop songs, though I am not sure if I’ve yet grasped the essence of Augie March. See my photos of Augie March and Kate Johnson.

I was a little amused to watch the roadies for Aliens and Augie March at work at Schubas. Most bands on the Schubas level, including local groups as well as touring artists, are not big enough to have their own roadies. Or if they do have roadies, it’s a pretty low-budget affair. But it seems like groups from England, Australia and some other overseas lands come to the United States with a very special breed of highly professional roadies. The Aliens’ roadie very meticulously made sure every guitar pick was in its right place before the big show began.

Last night (Sept. 27), I was back at Schubas to see the Brunettes. I arrived too late for opening act the Lucksmiths (good, from what I hear) and heard just a little bit of the second performer, Ferraby Lionheart (I like the piano ballad I heard). Earlier in the evening, I was at the world premiere of Evan Smith’s play The Savannah Disputation at Writers’ Theatre way up on the North Shore, so I wasn’t sure how much entertainment I would be able to squeeze into one night. (I’ll have more to blog later about the play and other recent theater I’ve seen.) It worked out pretty well, as I got to see the Brunettes, a nice and quirky pop band from New Zealand. Again, I have to plead a certain amount of ignorance. I had listened to the Brunettes’ latest album just once on Rhapsody, and friends told me they’re a good band, so that was enough motivation for me to attend, but I can’t say I know a whole lot about their music. I liked the unusual use of horns, including clarinet, and vibraphone (or whatever those mallet-tapped percussion instruments were). The Brunettes also had a good sense of humor, with some stage banter that was endearingly awkward. And they closed with an unexpected cover of Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run.” See my photos of the Brunettes.

The National is one of those bands that took a while to click with me. When a lot of people I knew were raving about how great their album Alligator was, I listened and thought, “Well, that’s OK, but it all sort of sounds the same.” I listened a number of times, unpersuaded but still curious. My initial reaction to the National’s latest record, Boxer, was pretty similar, but then after a few listens, I finally got it. There’s something perfect about the way this band arranges its songs. They’re all so taut and tensely played, within a narrow framework. In a way, it sounds understated, with vocalist Matt Berninger flattening out melodies that could leap higher. The songs almost sound like sketches for bigger and more dramatic productions. But the more you listen, the more those big and dramatic moments reveal themselves as actually present in the music. And it no longer seems quite so understated.

The band came to Chicago’s Vic Theatre last night (Sept. 22) for a sold-out show, and it was an almost perfect representation of what the National is all about. Yes, some of it did seem understated and tightly controlled, as Berninger and the four musicians all kept within their zones, each playing his part perfectly. The emphasis on groove reminds me a little bit of the Feelies, but not in a way that actually resembles the Feelies sonically. It’s as if the National have adapted the philosophy of the Feelies for a completely different sound. The delicate interplay between the instruments reminds me of Midlake, and the simmering passion reminds me of a slightly dialed-down Arcade Fire. And yes, there was passion. Especially as the show went on, the band let loose on several songs. Berninger even began throwing around his microphone stand. It wasn’t exactly an Iggy Pop moment, but for a band that originally seemed so restrained to me, it was further proof that there’s a lot more going on in the National. See my photos of the National.

Last night was also the third time this year I’ve seen St. Vincent as an opening act this year. Man, she has been getting some primo opening-act slots. First, I saw her open for Midlake at Schubas, then she played before the Arcade Fire at the Chicago Theatre, and now here she is playing with the National. Unlike the Chicago Theatre gig, she was back to her solo act, using looping pedals to build layers in some of her songs. She sounded quite strong last night, channeling rock guitar heroes and cabaret chanteuses into her own singular art rock. She tossed in a cover of the Beatles’ “I Dig a Pony,” announcing, “I wrote this song way back in 1969.” See my photos of St. Vincent.

The Chicago World Music Festival is one of my favorite events every year, so it pained me to miss so much of it this year. Other events and responsibilities got in my way. And with the demise of the HotHouse, Chicago no longer seems to have a central venue where international acts perform (the Old Town School of Folk Music and Martyrs’ are taking up some of the slack). After missing most of this year’s fest, I made sure to swing by the Chicago Cultural Center last night (Sept. 20) for the the fest-closing open house, a free expo of sorts featuring several acts. I stuck inside the center’s lovely domed room, Preston Bradley Hall, and caught two wonderful acts.

Kiran Ahluwalia sang hypnotic Indian folk songs, sounding fairly traditional even though her band was playing guitar and bass, along with harmonium and tabla. Ahulwalia explained the meanings of many songs before performing them, but the passion was clear even if you didn’t speak the language.

Chango Spasiuk, an accordionist and composer from Argentina, played next, bringing the sitting-room-only audience to its feet with a couple of genuinely felt standing ovations. Apparently, Spasiuk does for the Argentinian rural dance music known as chamané what Astor Piazzolla did for the tango. I’m not enough of a musicologist to verify that this is exactly what he and his musicians were doing, but I can say the music was lovely and nimble.

See my photos of Kiran Ahluwalia and Chango Spasiuk.

This great double bill – two artists associated with the Jagjaguwar/Secretly Canadian family of record labels – came to town for a can’t-miss show on Tuesday (Sept. 20) at Logan Square Auditorium, the venue that everyone seems to love to hate. My experiences at Logan Square have not been bad, really. The acoustics can be pretty awful at some shows if you’re standing farther back in the room, but if you’re close to the stage, they’re fine. And from a photographer’s perspective – hey, at least they turned the lights on Tuesday night, and they weren’t all red, the bane of every concert photographer’s existence.

Anyway… singer-songwriter Damien Jurado opened the evening, looking like he’s lost a lot of weight and worked out quite a bit since the last time I saw him. He comes across on record as a sullen, mournful figure. His songs have a plainspoken beauty about them, and more often than not, they’re sad. In concert, he isn’t exactly the most outgoing performer you’ve ever seen, but he puts his songs across with conviction. I hear that he was in a talkative and joking mood the previous night in Milwaukee, but he didn’t say much if anything at all in Chicago. A new duo of backing musicians did a fine job of bringing some shades of color to Jurado’s songs. As much as I liked Jurado’s mellow acoustic records, I agree with the many fans who say they’d like to hear him do another rocking record like I Break Chairs. I get the feeling he might just have it in him.

See my photos of Damien Jurado.

The main attraction was Okkervil River, the Austin outfit led by Will Sheff, one of the most literate and passionate songsmiths around these days. His voice takes some getting used to, but I’ve come to like it, and there’s no doubt that his lyrics are terrific. In concert, Sheff and his bandmates are always an intense bunch. As usual, they started the night in fancy jackets, and by the end, Sheff was stripped down to a sweat-drenched shirt, his hair wet from a night of exertion. The set included many of the songs from the new Okkervil record, The Stage Names, including my favorite, closing track “John Allyn Smith Sails,” which morphs into “Sloop John B” at the end. It’s one of the most creative examples I’ve ever heard of a song that incorporates part of an earlier song, bringing it to life in a wholly new context.

See my photos of Okkervil River.

When Schubas billed the early show last night (Sept. 11) by the Ike Reilly Assassination as an all-ages show, they weren’t kidding. It was truly all ages, with a big contingent of grade-school-age kids, and a smattering of senior citizens, plus a lot of middle-age folks and some of the typical 20something and 30something Schubas crowd. I think the unusual demographics of this show were due to the fact that many of the band’s friends and family members had turned out. It made for a somewhat surreal scene, as little kids danced and clapped to Reilly’s songs, which rather frankly (and eloquently) talk about things like, oh, drugs and sex. It was a lively performance, though not quite as good as Reilly’s recent Metro show. Probably because of the all-ages curfew, we didn’t get an encore… I wonder if Reilly’s late show went longer?

See my photos of the Ike Reilly Assassination.

The Hideout Block Party always feels to me like the end of the summer music festival season. Last year’s event, which combined the usual block party with Touch and Go’s 25th anniversary, had a fabulous and even historic lineup, so it was going to be tough for the Hideout to match it this year in terms of signficance. I liked seeing the Hideout Block Party going back to being a little more laid-back, though. Like last year’s party, this one was on the parking lot across the street from the bar, where the city of Chicago normally parks snow plows and trucks. The stages were both on the east end of the lot this time, though, instead of spread out on the east and west ends like last year. Smart idea – it meant that you didn’t have to go very far at all to get from one stage to the other.

This year’s Block Party had a really special Chicago spirit to it, a sense of inventiveness and fun – especially on Saturday. But first, there was a fairly standard night of music on Friday night (Sept. 7). It had been pouring rain around 5 p.m., so I delayed my arrival; the music was delayed, too, and I showed up a few songs into the opening set by Britain’s Cinematics. I’d never heard this band before, and they didn’t leave much of an impression on me here. They’re another band reviving 1980s post-punk. Sounded OK to me, but I didn’t get into it.

Chicago’s own Scotland Yard Gospel Choir was up next. I had been a little worried about the future of this band when Matt Kerstein split off to form his own fine band, Brighton MA, but there was no need to panic. SYGC is carrying on with Elia taking the reins as the only songwriter now. A new record’s coming out in October on Bloodshot (another interesting non-country signing for the label), and it’s the best thing these guys have put out so far. Sure, they still have a Belle-and-Sebastian fetish, not to mention other Brit pop bands, but the songs are so darn tuneful in that off-hand way of dashed-off ditties. The group sounded good Friday night at the Block Party, though I think the subtle beauties of its new songs are more apparent on the record.

The theme of Brit-influnced Chicago bands continued with the Changes, who seem to find their inspiration in 1980s pop – not the really awful ’80s pop, but the catchy synthy stuff that was somewhere between awfulness and indie-rock goodness. At least that’s how I hear it. The Changes seem all right to me, and I think they’ve got the potential to be popular, but I can’t get really excited by them.

I can get excited, though, by the 1900s, who put on yet another excellent set. I’ve said enough about them before (Friday, I was thinking that the band must be thinking, “Oh, there’s THAT guy again taking our pictures”), but it was really nice to see them again after having had a chance to listen to the new record coming out in October, Cold and Kind. Did you notice that the Chicago Tribune’s Greg Kot wrote about it on Sunday, proclaiming it one of the year’s best albums? He’s right. I was going to say the same thing myself pretty soon, and Kot beat me to the punch. It’s a beautiful record, through and through, with fabulous vocal harmonies. The legendary Cynthia Plaster Caster introduced the 1900s, commenting on how she likes gossiping with the 1900s gals about sexy bass players… and she said she wants to get her trademark casts of the 1900s male members’ genitalia soon. Singer-guitarist Edward Anderson dedicated the 1900s set to the Sears Tower, which does loom scenically in the sky from the Block Party’s parking lot.

See my photos of Cinematics, Scotland Yard Gospel Choir, the Changes and the 1900s.

The Hideout’s co-owner Tim Tuten says he asked Bloc Party to play at the Block Party half-jokingly, but the band cheerfully decided to go along with the joke. Actually, given how prominent last year’s Touch and Go event was, the party probably has an international reputation now, so it’s not that strange that Bloc Party would agree to launch its international tour in this parking lot with huge corrugated-metal sheds behind them. Bloc Party is a band that I enjoy for a few songs, but I’d rather hear them in small quantities than large doses. They did put on a pretty good show.

See my photos of Bloc Party.

DAY TWO (Sept. 8) was when things got cool… It was a decent enough lineup as far as the touring bands that were booked to play, but what made things interesting were the unusual antics and the variety of music that you don’t normally see at a rock festival. First, there was Steve Krakow’s Guitarkestra, which has a full name something like the Plastic Crimewave Celestial Guitarkestra. Krakow, who also leads the band Plastic Crimewave Sound among countless other activities, has organized three of these events now, inviting as many guitarists as possible to bring their axes and amps for one long drone on the E chord. The idea is to make as much noise as possible and achieve some sort of transcendantal state. I missed the previous Guitarkestra shows at the Empty Bottle and Hyde Park Art Center (though I did interview Krakow about it for a story on Chicago’s drone scene, which will be in the fall issue of Signal to Noise ). Krakow fell short of his goal to attract 100 guitarists this time. Maybe the noon concert time was too early for Chicago’s droners, but some 40 people showed up, including ukulele players, drummers, singers and others in addition to guitarists. This is not the sort of music for everyone, but I have to say I did find it eerily beautiful at times, the way the music swelled up.

Cass McCombs, a California singer-songwriter who just moved to Chicago this month, played next. I’m not that familiar with his music, but what I heard sounded decent. I look forward to seeing him become a regular part of the Chicago scene. Then came the Golden Horse Ranch Square Dance Band, which was exactly what it sounded like. We got some good old-time music complete with square-dance lessons. (I’m not sure who all was in this group, but it was cool to see Lawrence Peters, Hideout bartender, playing drums – in addition to playing country music, he’s also in Plastic Crimewave Sound, an example of how Chicago musicians cross genres all the time.)

Head of Femur, whom I saw recently at Logan Square Auditorium, played a good set, making me all the more eager to hear their new record.

And then came the portion of the Block Party that Tuten introduced as a sort of “musical” in which all of us were participating. That metaphor didn’t quite work, but it was a fun afternoon of people making peculiar music of all sorts. The New York band O’Death played some aggressively twangy country music with tons of vigor See my photos of O’Death..

Totally changing gears, Dan Deacon was next, doing his electronic pop thing. He nearly caused a riot at the Pitchfork Music Fest – well, the overcrowding nearly caused a riot, and his set there was cut off. So now he was back with a chance to play again. I fortuitously ended up standing next to the table in the parking lot where he was tweaking dials, jamming to his iPod and playing an old Casiotone keyboard. I freaked out a little when I recognized this was the exact same model of keyboard (the MT400V) that I owned in college. I long ago discarded mine, thinking it was too rinky-dink. I guess I should have saved it… Anyway, Deacon put on a highly entertaining set, largely due to his sense of humor. He got the crowd to engage in a silly countdown to set the mood and later ran a gauntlet of fans with upraised arms. He was getting ready to end his set when a Hideout volunteer wrote a message on duct tape and stuck it on his table, asking him to do another song. See my photos of Dan Deacon.

Mucca Pazza, Chicago’s alternative-rock marching band, then came… yes, marching through the parking lot. This isn’t just some rock band that uses a few horns. It is an actual marchng band, with colorfully mismatched uniforms and a couple of wacky cheerleaders. They put on a fantastic set of lively tunes, mixing some Eastern European melodies into the marching-band repertoire. It’s hard to believe this big band has played inside small clubs like the Hideout and Schubas. The parking lot was the perfect place to see them. See my photos of Mucca Pazza.

Before Art Brut played, an ad hoc outfiit calling itself “Punk Band” came onto the north stage playing the Art Brut tune, “We Formed a Band.” This was a great joke – Art Brut singer Eddie Argos has said that he wants people around the world to form Art Brut franchises in each town, and Chicago took him up on the offer. Punk Band featured a few Hideout employees, plus two Mekons, Sally Timms in a lamb costume and Jon Langford hiding under a shiny blanket of some sort. Timms joked that the band had not even rehearsed. After a couple of songs by Punk Band, the real Art Brut launched into its own set on the south stage. I have to say the new Art Brut album didn’t do that much for me the one time I listened (I know I need to go back to it), but I still think they’re one of the most entertaining bands going today, with fabulous energy and humor. This was another firecracker set from these fellows. See my photos of Art Brut and Punk Band. And check out Kirstie Cat’s amazing photo of Eddie jumping.

Keeping up the theme of general tomfoolery, the Blue Ribbon Glee Club – a choir formed by that great Chicago singer-songwriter Devin Davis – performed a cappella versions of indie and alternative songs like the Pixies’ “Where Is My Mind?” As they were doing their show, the members of Art Brut were standing on the side of the stage, laughing their asses off. (See the above photo.)

The final two acts of the party were a little more sober, but they carried on that spirit of adventure. The Frames played a crowd-pleasing set, dropping in quotes from other songs, such as Wilco’s “Reservations.” Glen Hansard was apparently so taken by the Glee Club’s performance that he brought some of the female singers out onto the stage for the encore, reprising the Pixies tune we’d heard earlier in the night. See my photos of the Frames.

The Hideout has been one of Andrew Bird’s regular venues for years, so it seemed apt that he was the closing headliner for the whole festival. I’d just seen him recently, in a show at the Riviera, so I didn’t feel any great excitement about seeing him yet again, but he always puts on a marvelous show, and it was awe-inspiring yet again to see and hear Bird singing, whistling, fiddling, glockenspieling and guitaring. The backup from drummer Martin Dosh and guitarist Jeremy Ylvisaker keep the music lively, while Bird played his lovely and quirky compositions with the usual passion. It was especially cool that he did a cover of one of my favorite Handsome Family songs, “The Giant of Illinois,” during his encore. WBEZ broadcast an interview and live performance by Andrew Bird the other day on the “848” show, including just a snippet of this song. It was so disappointing when they faded that out, so it was great to actually hear the song in concert. (You can hear the “848” segment here.) See my photos of Andrew Bird.

And I’ve got one more photo gallery for you… See my other photos from Day 2, including the Guitarkestra, Cass McCombs, the Golden Horse Ranch Square Dance Band, Head of Femur and the Blue Ribbon Glee Club.

As I’ve mentioned before, a lot of electronic music bores me, but some electronic artists strike me in right way. Black Moth Super Rainbow is one of those. I think it’s because these guys mostly play actual keyboards – holy cow, I could see them actually fingering some of the synth melodies that you might think were running on some sort of loop. I do think the band could try once in a while to do vocals without the vocoder treatment, but the songs are pretty catchy with cool atmosphere. And for jammy electronica tunes, they’re surprisingly short and concise. These songs make their point and then they’re over.

The band put on a pretty good performance last night (Sept. 6) at the Abbey Pub, with a movie screen pulled halfway down in front of the group. Lots of clips from exercise videos and soft-porn films played on the screen and the bass drum while the musicians tinkered with their synths and banged gongs. The drumming – sometimes herky-jerky, sometimes more straightforward propulsion – added a lot to Black Moth’s sound.

I showed up at the Abbey just in time for the last song by the first band, Tirra Lirra. Plastic Crimewave Sound played second, with lots of long, jammy psychedelic garage grunge. Think very early Pink Floyd mixed with Nuggets and drone.

See my photos of Black Moth Super Rainbow and Plastic Crimewave Sound.

Half of the reason I went to this show last night (Sept. 5) was the venue, a bar in Logan Square called Ronny’s. Until reading the blurbs about this concert, I hadn’t even heard of the place, though apparently it has been hosting live music (mostly punk shows, from what I hear) for at least a little while. The mpshows booking service is putting some interesting concerts into Ronny’s now, and I was simply curious to see a concert at a different place from all of my usual haunts. I listened on Rhapsody to the Marissa Nadler record earlier yesterday, and it seemed pleasant enough to tip the balance in favor of attendance.

What a dive this place is – not that that’s necessarily bad. First, there’s the bar, which is clearly an old neighborhood tap. And then there’s the concert room, which seems to be an addition or separate building that went up at some later point after the bar. It’s not much more than a garage or freight delivery room of some sort, made out of cinder blocks. These odd garage-door-like entrances (they don’t extend all the way to the floor) are still on the walls behind the “stage,” a remnant of the room’s previous use. Stage? Did I say stage? No, that was just a spot on the floor where the musicians played. It had some of the makeshift vibe of Cal’s or Fireside Bowl. Definitely DIY.

This was a triple bill of three female singer-songwriters on the quiet, pensive side. Angel Olsen opened with a nice set of her mournful folk songs. Cool downtrodden strumming, piercing pretty vocals.

And then came Picastro, a Toronto trio led by Liz Hysen, playing even more mourful stuff. I’ve seen Picastro once before, and I like the discordant atmosphere of its songs, but I do wish the band (and Hysen) weren’t so relentlessly dour. Despite the fact that Hysen looks down and never even cracks a smile while she’s performing, I managed to capture her in a few lighter moments in some of my photographs. Really — she doesn’t smile that much.

Nadler was the headliner and the most impressive performer of the night. After one listen, I’d say her record, Songs III: Bird on the Water, is a nice collection of spooky, spare songs, and they came across even better performed live, with the striking lyrics and her lovely voice all the more noticeable. She thanked the audience for being attentively quiet (which was true during all three sets), unlike some cowboys who’d heckled her during rough shows earlier on the tour. See? Chicago knows how to treat musicians.

See my photos of Marissa Nadler, Angel Olsen and Picastro.

I have to admit that I’ve been on the fence about Earlimart. Missed out on the early records and still haven’t heard them. I was a little underwhelmed by Treble & Tremble when it came out in 2004, and then I had the odd experience of seeing Earlimart on the second half of a double bill at Schubas with Okkervil River. Okkervil blew the roof off the place and then Earlimart killed my buzz with too much mellowness. I probably would have liked it much better if the order of the bands had been switched that night.

All that being said, I do like the new Earlimart record, Mentor Tormentor. Maybe the band is just growing on me. They played last night (Aug. 30) at Schubas, and the show seemed to have a lot more punch than that 2004 gig, at least based on what I remember. Plus, they had a “String Dream Team” (including Andra of the 1900s) playing behind them last night, which made the pretty parts sound even prettier. I wish Ariana Murray would sing lead vocals more often – that song she sings on the new CD, “Happy Alone,” is one of my favorites – but there isn’t much else I can complaint about. The show seemed weighted pretty heavily toward songs from the current album, which was fine with me. See my photos of Earlimart.

Opening act Patrick Park put on a superb show, too. Just him and his acoustic guitar and some very bright lights (until the heat got to him and he asked Schubas to dim things down). I enjoyed Park’s 2004 record Loneliness Knows My Name and I saw him open for someone at the Empty Bottle back then. I just picked up the new Park album, Everyone’s in Everyone, after the show last night. It sounds good so far, though I have to say I think I prefer hearing Park play his songs unvarnished in a live performance to the studio versions – not that the studio versions are super polished or anything, but the pure acoustic versions that he does live are the real thing. A vocal contingent of Park fans requested songs and then applauded loudly at the end of his set. A very rare event then occurred – the opening act performend an encore. He deserved it. See my photos of Patrick Park.

Even though the Papercuts were the headlining band last night (Aug. 29) at Schubas, I got the feeling that more attention was being lavished on the first of the three bands playing, the Bowerbirds. For one thing, Spin was there to cover the band, and then the Chicago Tribune listed the Bowerbirds as a critic’s pick for the day. I can’t say I knew much about any of these bands, but after listening to some songs by the Bowerbirds on their web site – and after streaming the Papercuts’ latest album – I decided this would be a good show to see. Despite my expectation that a hype-inflated crowd might show up for Bowerbirds, it turned out to be a respectable but far-from-sold-out-size crowd.

Bowerbirds played some beautiful and quiet music, with high crooning male vocals over acoustic guitar, accordion, violin and drums. No drum kit, though – just a bass drum pounded with fuzzy mallets, and a high-hat with tambourine attached, which the guitarist stomped with a foot pedal. I liked the basic percussion, and the songs seemed quite good on first impression, enough that I headed over to merch table to buy a copy. See my photos of Bowerbirds.

I’ve seen the funny if somewhat pretentious and unwieldy band name Casiotone for the Painfully Alone listed many times on concert posters and ads without ever seeing or hearing the band – er, guy. It was pretty much what you would expect, a guy playing old Casio keyboards and such. Not bad, really, with some decent songs and a sense of humor, even if it wasn’t quite my thing. See my photos of Casiotone for the Painfully Alone.

Papercuts took the stage in darkness and the stage pretty much stayed dark. (I mention this mostly because it made it frustrating to take photographs.) With lots of 12-string guitar and reverby vocals, Papercuts reminded me of those 1980s bands that mined 1960s psychedelia, like the Rain Parade. It was dreamy, a nice trip overall. See my photos of Papercuts.

Ida is a wonderful little band that doesn’t get all that much attention. I’ve seen their music described as “sadcore” and “slowcore.” Those are just fancy terms for pretty folk and pop music played very softly. (They sound similar at times to Low or the quieter moments of Yo La Tengo – and all three bands feature husband-wife couples.) Playing in Chicago for the first time in a couple of years, Ida came to Schubas last night (Aug. 28). It’s also been a couple of years since the last Ida record, 2005’s Heart Like a River. Ida played some new songs last night, from an album that is apparently finished and coming out sometime soon.

It was a hushed, intimate show. Man, was it quiet – not just the music, but the repectful crowd, too. I took far fewer photographs than I normally do because the clicking of my shutter suddenly seemed blaringly audible. One member of Ida, Karla Schickele (who plays bass and keyboards and sings and writes a few songs) was absent, having just given birth, so this show featured the husband-and-wife duo at the core of Ida, Daniel Littleton and Elizabeth Mitchell, plus Jean Cook on violin. Cook, who seemed to be suffering from a cold, also played a small harmonium with her feet on some songs. Littleton is an engaging personality on the stage, joking around with the rest of the band in a way that makes a concert seem more like a gathering of friends.

The songs both old and new were absolutely beautiful, and it was nice to see a nearly full house of fans, including many people who had favorite Ida songs on their wish lists. The opening band was the Young Neils, which was exactly what you might guess – a Neil Young cover band, playing for the first time, supposedly assembled for this gig at Ida’s request, if you can believe the stage banter. The Neil songs were a perfect appetizer for Ida’s main course.

See my photos of Ida.

Magnolia Electric Co. just released a superb box set called Sojourner – no less than four discs of music and one DVD. Magnolia main man Jason Molina is one prolific songwriter, and given the fact that all of this was recorded more than a year ago, you have to wonder how much other material he has waiting to be released. Molina and his bandmates put on one of the best shows I’ve seen them do, playing longer than they usually do (a whopping 82 minutes, compared to their typical hour or less), with plenty of fine songs off the box set as well as some old favorites. As they played “Riding With the Ghost,” it struck me again how phenomenal that song is. One of the best songs of the decade? I think so. The lyrics never fail to grab me, and neither does that “oohing” chorus. Molina mentioned that he has moved out of Chicago (just before singing, “It broke my heart to leave the city…”) to London. It’s too bad he isn’t a local guy anymore, but I’m sure we’ll be seeing and hearing a lot from him.

Opening act Golden Boots put on a pretty decent set. They reminded me of Dr. Dog, without the same sort of cartwheeling energy and a little more shambling, with songs that petered out as the band seemed ot be fishing around for that elusive final chord. And I don’t mean that in a bad way. I also thought of Souled American. They’re from Tucson, and I liked them enough that I bought their EP for $5. Sure enough, it’s on Dr. Dog’s label, Park the Van records, and they sound even more like Dr. Dog on their studio recordings, which have a lot more of a ’60s pop vibe.

See my photos of Magnolia Electric Co. and Golden Boots.

I’ve seen a few shows since my last post, starting with Au Revoir Simone on Friday (Aug. 17) at the Abbey Pub. Frankly, I’m not that familiar with this female trio’s pop music. I listened to some songs before seeing the concert. The group has its moments, but for the most part I found its keyboard-based pop tunes a little on the precious side, and they all started to sound the same after a while. Some rabid fans were in attendance, though, including some repeatedly yelling “I love you!” with vocal-cord-stretching vigor. I showed up at the Abbey in time for David Singer, the second of the four act playing on Friday. (What’s with the four-band lineups over there?) Singer, who also ran the Intonation music festivals in 2005 and 2006, plays ’70s-style pop music rooted in piano chords. The next band was Oh No Oh My from Austin, who were a pleasant surprise – upbeat indie pop. Clearly, a lot of Oh No Oh My fans were in the crowd, which gave them a pretty enthusiastic reception. They were my favorites of the night.

See my photos of Au Revoir Simone, David Singer and Oh No Oh My.

On Saturday night (Aug. 18), I checked out the CD release party for Marvin Tate at the Hideout. I interviewed Tate a few years back, when he was still leading a band called Marvin Tate’s D-Settlement, a slightly peculiar mix of spoken-word poetry, soul and rock. They put on a jammin’ performance one afternoon at the old Tower Records store on Clark Street, drawing stares from passers-by. Tate just put out first solo record, Family Swim, and it’s equally baffling (baffling in a way that’s not bad). There are a couple of spoken poems on the record, plus Tate engaging in moody Tom Waits-ian numbers, plus some rockers that are more like soul and gospel music. Ex-Wilco member LeRoy Bach produced the record, and he played in Tate’s band Saturday night (along with Emmett Kelly) for a rousing performance.

The first group of the night, Eyes Ears Nose, were a singular sensation… If there is a genre that defines what they do, maybe it would be “goofball rock.” You knew you were in for something weird when they started off their first song with sliding notes on a metal whistle – the sort of sound effect you might hear in a Three Stooges film. The guys and gal in this group frequently swapped instruments and leapt about a lot. The music, on first impression, seemed pretty good. The energy level was great.

Adam Fitz played the middle set of the night, performing some new songs of his own, with soulful hollerin’ and amped-up pop-rock. He tossed in a couple of covers, including a really nice rendition of one of my favorite M. Ward songs, “Fool Says.”

See my photos of Marvin Tate, Eyes Ears Nose and Adam Fitz.

On Sunday, I was at the House of Blues for Crowded House. I’ve always liked Crowded House’s hits, but I’ve never delved too deeply into their catalogue. It was a pretty good show, though a lot of it veered too much into adult-contemporary territory for my tastes. The final encore of the night transformed into a cover of “A Day in the Life,” which I thought was awfully cool. “Don’t Dream It’s Over” sounded good… except it bugged me to hear that great organ part supplanted by a Melodica solo. I mean, come on. An actual keyboard was sitting right there. Play the darn thing. That’s my favorite part of the song.

Crowded House was preceded by a solo set from Liam Finn, son of Crowded House leader Neil Finn. Liam is certainly a talented guy, as he proved by using a looping pedal to play guitar and drum solos on top of his own rhythms. In fact, I’d venture that he was a having a little too much fun for his own good with all of the looping trickery. It started to feel more like a novelty than a useful tool. Still, he showed a ton of energy and promise. Liam also sat in with Crowded House, strumming some acoustic guitar and doing backup harmonies. Maybe the Crowded House set would have been a little livelier if they’d unleashed this kid on the drums.

The first band of the night was 16 Frames, not to be confused with the Frames. They were the epitome of generic pop-rock, even down to their stage moves and corny banter. A bunch of pretty boys from L.A. with a record coming out on Arista. They seemed like a TV-show version of a band more than a real band.

(Sorry, no photos from the Crowded House concert.)

Finally, last night (Aug. 20) I saw Mark Olson, former member of the Jayhawks, at Schubas. It was quite a nice little show (a little short and a little sparsely attended, unfortunately) with Olson singing a bunch of songs off his new CD The Salvation Blues, some stuff from his Creekdippers albums and a few Jayhawks classics, including one of my favorites, “Blue.” Listening to that song again, I thought: Man, what a classic composition. Giving the concert an international flair, Italian violinist Michele Gazich (that’s a man) played some mean fiddle solos, while Norwegian Ingunn Ringvold did a nice job on harmonies, percussion, keyboard and guitar.

The opening act was a low-key folk duo from Omaha called McCarthy Trenching. (Or is it really just the one guy with a side musician? I couldn’t tell…) Their songs were quite nice, and the crowd listened with quiet respect.

See my photos of Mark Olson and McCarthy Trenching.

The concert I saw last night was free, but even the lack of an admission charge apparently was enough of an incentive to draw a crowd. The Logan Square Auditorium wasn’t exactly empty, but it was a crowd small enough to fit into a more intimate venue like Schubas. I counted about 70 people in the place while Bound Stems was playing, then the audience thinned out even more by the time Head of Femur was into its set. (And why was it free? Because it was paid for by Camel Cigarettes. Ugh.) Oh, well… It was a decent show anyway.

First band was Dirty on Purpose, who I had wanted to see at SXSW. This group seemed to fall firmly within the shoegazer genre, based on what I saw and heard last night. Some instrumental songs, a singing drummer, polished waves of guitar. See my photos of Dirty on Purpose.

Bound Stems played second. I like this Chicago band’s enthusiasm, but their songs don’t always click with me. I’ve still got open ears, though. See my photos of Bound Stems.

I feel similar about Head of Femur. They’ve impressed me at times with their big, quasi-orchestral sound, while at other times their songs seem a little too fussy or twee. I liked their set last night. I picked up more of an old-style R&B or ’60s vibe on some songs, and I look forward to hearing their next recording. See my photos of Head of Femur.

Cal’s is a strange little venue in Chicago’s South Loop. That in itself is strange. How many places downtown feature live music at all, other than maybe a guy playing piano in a restaurant? Cal’s Liquors is a package liquor store and tiny bar that has become a place for loud, unadulterated rock. There’s no stage, just a spot on the floor where the bands play, right next to the bar. The soundboard is a little piece of equipment sitting on the counter behind the band. There are no lights to speak of, which makes it challenging to photograph musicians at Cal’s. You’ll get a little bit of the street light coming in through the window next to the band, but that’s about it. There’s a wall covered with old set lists.

Cal’s was hosting its annual Cal’s Fest this weekend, and I missed most of it, but I did show up Sunday night (walking from Millennium Park, where I had just seen gospel great Mavis Staples) for a set by Mannequin Men. This Chicago band has a strong record called Fresh Rot coming out Sept. 18 on Flameshovel Records. The opening track, “Private School,” has a chorus that’s catchy in the way old Mission of Burma records were catchy. I’d never seen Mannequin Men live, and they put on a loud, passionate show Sunday night.

(Photographic notes: After shooting in daylight for Mavis Staples, I had to switch to my low-light secret weapon, the 50mm 1.4 f stop lens for this gig. I sort of wish I’d thought to bring my 28mm lens, which would have given me a little wider view of things. I spent the first part of the show sitting on a bar stool three feet from lead singer Kevin Richard’s face. And then I was out in the crowd, trying to get shots from in between audience members. This was strictly an ISO 1600 kind of night.)

Somehow, Cal’s seems to have legal permission for its patrons to stand out on the sidewalk on Van Buren Street and drink beer out there, so I hung out there for a while before heading home. Among other bands I missed later in the night, the Dials were playing. Can’t see everything.

See my photos of Mannequin Men.

The “Great Performers of Illinois” weekend at Millennium Park closed last night (Aug. 12) with someone who more than lives up to that title, one of the all-time great gospel singers, Mavis Staples. She gave a rousing performance, belting out traditional songs as well as some well-chosen covers (the Band’s “The Weight” and Buffalo Springfield’s “For What It’s Worth”). She has a way of pausing in her singing, sputtering a little bit as if the emotion has overcome her, making it impossible for her to go on, and then bursting out with a holler that’s more intense than what came before. She told stories about her days playing in the Staples Singers with her dad, Roebuck “Pop” Staples, finishing up the show with the very first song Pop taught his children to sing, “Will the Circle Be Unbroken.”

See my photos of Mavis Staples.

The Taylor Street Festa Italiana seemed like a strange place to spend a day watching alt-country bands, but the street fair had a pretty stellar lineup yesterday (Aug. 11), so it was definitely the place to be me for me.

Nora O’Connor played at 3:30 p.m., facing into a bright sun and working up a sweat (maybe a sunburn, too)… She’s one of the Chicago alt-country scene’s unsung heroines, as far as I’m concerned. I sure wish she’d do another record, but from what I gather, parenthood has kept from spending too much time on her music. With the always-reliable Scott Ligon playing some fab guitar licks, O’Connor played songs from her one solo album as well as some interesting covers. “Vanishing Girl” by the Dukes of Stratosphear?!? That was unexpected – one of my favorite obscure tunes ever. O’Connor’s kid danced in front of the stage at one point. She apparently has another on the way. She joked, “You made a pregnant woman jump twice.” See my photos of Nora O’Connor.

Another artist who deserves more success, Chris Mills, played next. His solo show at Schubas last summer was decent enough, but he’s better when he has a full quasi-orchestral rock band playing behind him, which he had yesterday, including the ubiquitous keyboardist/trumpet player Dave Max Crawford and the just-as-ubiquitous cellist Fred Lonberg Holms. See my photos of Chris Mills.

I missed Blue Mountain recently when they played at Schubas the same night I saw the Wrens, so I was glad to make up for that missed opportunity with yesterday’s show. I never saw Blue Mountain back in the day. They put on a pretty solid show this time, rocking more than I expected from their records. They played a couple of new songs and promised a new album by next year.See my photos of Blue Mountain.

The Old 97’s were the headliner, but frankly, they were the group that interested me least yesterday. I’m a fan of many likeminded bands, but I’ve never really gotten into the Old 97’s or Rhett Miller. I’m sure they’ve got some good songs that I’m missing out on, but from what I’ve heard, they lack a certain grit that I usually need in my alt-country. They attracted a big audience, in sharp contrast to the sparsely attended shows earlier in the day (well, Blue Mountain got a decent-sized turnout), but I just couldn’t get into it. I stuck around long enough to get some photos, but I didn’t stay until the end. See my photos of the Old 97’s.

They’re local legends, but the Shoes are also a rather elusive band. Cult favorites among power-pop fans, the Zion, Illinois, group has been pretty much dormant in recent years. They play once every few years, and I’ve never had the chance to see them. Today (Aug. 10), the Shoes made a rare appearance, and it was in an unusual place. They were featured in a mini festival of “Great Performers of Illinois” that Millennium Park hosted. The early-evening show – it started at 5 p.m. and lasted until a few minutes past 6 p.m. – was not at the park’s big Pritzer Pavilion, but rather on a temporary stage right over by Michigan Avenue.

I don’t know how often the Shoes rehearse, but they did not sound the least bit rusty. The songs were tight, with strong drumming, dead-on riffs and catchy melodies and harmonies. That’s what power pop is all about. The performance wasn’t flashy, but it was just what it needed to be.

See my photos of the Shoes.

I’ve also posted some photos from a gig I saw on Aug. 2, the night before Lollapalooza (although it was oddly billed as a “Lollapalooza after party”) featuring Sparklehorse and the Ladybug Transistor at the Empty Bottle. The Sparklehorse set that night was pretty similar to the one I saw later at Lollapalooza, though it was harder to photograph, given how dark the Bottle is. The Ladybug Transistor plays the sort of pretty ork-pop that I would normally like, but something about the band’s music leaves me a little cold.

See my photos of Sparklehorse.

See my photos of the Ladybug Transistor.

Well, the big festival is finally over… You can see my overall review of Lollapalooza is on the Pioneer Press Web site here.

Click on the links below for my photos from Sunday:

White Rabbits

The 1900s

David Vandervelde and the Moonstation House Band

Rodrigo y Gabriela

Amy Winehouse

Iggy Pop and the Stooges

Yo La Tengo

Modest Mouse

My Morning Jacket

Tv on the Radio

Pearl Jam

Note: I showed up too late at My Morning Jacket to shoot photos from the pit, and I did not have access to the photo pit during Pearl Jam, either, so I did the best I could shooting a few pictures from out in the crowd.