New Randy Newman songs

I tracked down an audience recording of the two new Randy Newman songs I mentioned in my last post. These are from his Oct. 14, 2006, concert at Convocation Centre in Toronto. Some audience noise (nearby people laughing and breathing) is audible, but the sound quality’s decent enough to hear the songs.

The political song is essentially one of Newman’s monologues, with just hints of melody and piano noodling underneath. This isn’t a classic in the same league as “Political Science,” but it’s still vintage Newman and a timely song. At least a few of the words were different in the Chicago performance, when he mentioned the color coding of terror alerts. When he introduces the song to the Toronto crowd, he notes that it isn’t finished, so we may hear some other lyrics when this finally surfaces on a studio album.

mp3 files:
LOSING YOU
A FEW WORDS IN DEFENSE OF MY COUNTRY

Here’s my transcription of the lyrics from the Toronto performance.

A FEW WORDS IN DEFENSE OF MY COUNTRY
By Randy Newman
I’d like to say a few words in defense of my country
Whose people aren’t bad nor are they mean
Now, the leaders we have, while they’re the worst that we’ve had,
Are hardly the worst this poor world has ever seen.
Let’s turn history’s pages, shall we?
Think of Caesars, for example.
Well, the first few of them, they were sleeping with their sisters,
Stashing little boys in swimming pools, burning down the city.
One of them, he appointed his own horse to be counselor of the empire.
That’s like vice president — well, wait, that’s not a very good example.
But here’s a good one, the Spanish Inquisition,
Putting people in terrible position.
I don’t even like to think about it.
Well, sometimes I like to think about it.
Just a few words in defense of my country
Whose time at the top may be coming to an end.
Oh, we don’t want your love
And I guess respect is out of the question at this point.
At times like these, we could sure use a friend.
Hitler, Stalin — men who need no introduction. Much worse.
King Leopold of Belgium. That’s right, everyone thinks he’s so great.
Well, he owned the Congo, you know, and he tore it up, too.
It was the Switzerland of Africa.
He took the diamond, he took the gold, he took the silver.
You know what he left it with? Malaria.
You know, a president once said,
The only thing we have to fear is fear itself
Now it seems like we’re supposed to be afraid. It’s patriotic, in fact.
Afraid of what? Why, afraid of being afraid.
That’s what terror means, isn’t it?
You know, “House of Wax,” stuff like that.
Not anymore it doesn’t.
You know, it pisses me off a little when I think that this Supreme Court’s going to outlive me.
A couple of young Italian fellas and a brother on the court now, too.
But I defy you, anywhere in the world, to found two Italians like the two Italians we got.
And as for the brother, well, Pluto’s not a planet anymore, either.
The end of an empire is messy at best
And this here empire’s ending just like all the rest.
Like the Spanish Armada, adrift on the sea,
We’re adrift in the land of the brave and the home of the free.
Good-bye, Good-bye, Good-bye.

Randy Newman Nov. 3 at Symphony Center

Randy Newman’s one of those artists who doesn’t need a new album as an excuse to tour — any concert by him will be an event, even if he doesn’t have new songs. I can’t believe I hesitated about whether to see last night’s show. It will certainly make my list of the best concerts I’ve seen in 2006. On the spur of the moment, I decided to check for tickets yesterday and bought one of the nosebleed seats for $25. It was way up on the sixth floor of Symphony Center, the section known as the “Gallery,” which is above the two balconies, with a steep view that seemed almost straight down to the top of Randy’s head and the strings and hammers of that big old grand piano. That was fine with me, though. The acoustics in this place are excellent, of course, so as far as the sound goes, I might as well have been sitting right next to Newman. At one point, he cracked that he had considered singing without a microphone, like the opera singers who appear in the same hall, but that it had scared the technicians.

This was Newman at his best, just him at a piano, singing songs from throughout his career and entertaining with his ever-witty banter. I’ve always liked Newman’s songs best when they are just voice and piano. He’s a marvelous piano player, with a great sense not only for blues and boogie but classical flourishes, too. He’s one of those rare musicians who successfully bridges the musical sophistication of the classical world with the simplicity of pop and folk, without ever sounding pretentious. And his voice? It’s been said so many dang times that this guy can’t carry a tune, and yet I think he has one of the best and most distinctive voices. Then again, I prefer singers who sound like regular people, quirks and all.

Newman played a couple of new songs, including a bit of satire in the tradition of “Political Science,” which he said he’d had to write for his recent performances in Europe. The song is called “A Few Words in Defense of My Country,” and you can pretty much imagine where it goes from there.

What struck me as I heard so many of my favorite Newman songs again was how beautifully phrased they are, both musically and lyrically. Some of the songs are verbose, filled with comedic patter (sharing a certain sensibility with hip-hop, though they sound nothing like rap), but others are so concise, just a few telling lines.

After I saw a Newman concert in 2003 at Park West, I listened to a cassette tape of him playing a show about a decade earlier, and I noticed that he had used much of the same banter and jokes at both shows. Talked about relying on canned jokes. This time, I didn’t recognize too much of the banter — he did use his standard line, “This is sort of like Schubert, but shittier,” and as always, he remarked that “You Can Leave Your Hat On” has come to seem less funny as he’s grown older. Newman did not make an overt references to Hurricane Katrina when he played “Louisiana 1927” — the song speaks for itself — but when playing another song about New Orleans, “Dixie Flyer,” he remarked, “It’s not a great place for fixing things. If a toaster is broken, they have to take it to Mississippi.” After playing “Rednecks,” he said, “I’m proud to say because of the songs I’ve written, racism is no longer a problem.”

Let’s hope Newman follows through with his plan to record an album next year. The two new songs he played last night sounded good. More than ever, we all could use some new Newman songs.

SET LIST
It’s Money That Matters
Yellow Man
Bad News From Home
Short People
Birmingham
Marie
The Girls in My Life (Part 1)
The World Isn’t Fair
I Miss You
Red Bandana
Losing You (new song)
A Few Words in Defense of My Country (new song)
You Can Leave Your Hat On
I’m Dead (But I Don’t Know It)
Guilty
Political Science
(BREAK)
Last Night I Had A Dream
Love Story
In Germany Before the War
The Great Nations of Europe
Baltimore
You’ve Got a Friend in Me
Real Emotional Girl
My Life is Good
Follow the Flag
Song for the Dead
Dixie Flyer
Rednecks
Louisiana 1927
Shame
I Love L.A.
(ENCORE)
Lonely at the Top
I Think It’s Going to Rain Today

So much music: Best of 2006, Part 1

It’s early November, which means we’re heading into the home stretch of that insane year-long project known as the Top Ten List. Actually, make that Top 50 or Top 100. I do wonder about the sanity of this endeavor, trying to listen to as many new albums every year and then picking the best ones.

There’s so much damn music, and so much of it is good (yes, a LOT of it is mediocre to dreadful, too). I wouldn’t be able to do this without keeping a database of what I’ve heard and what I need to hear. November is my month for trying to find what I’ve missed so far. One last chance to hear some albums worthy of consideration for my list.

I do get a fair amount of CDs for free from publicists and record labels, which is fantastic. But I also buy a lot. And I download many songs through emusic, which is really a bargain and highly recommended for anyone who’s serious about music. I also subscribe to Rhapsody, which lets me listen to a great deal of the ohter music out there via streaming. Also highly recommended. And I feel like I’m just beginning to tap into the ever-growing pool of mp3 files out there on the Web and songs streaming at sites like myspace.

So here’s where things stand right now on my quest for the Best of 2006: I have either actual physical copies or downloaded versions of 231 CDs that came out this year. I also compiled a list of other records I should hear (culled from Mojo, Harp and Magnet reviews, Pitchfork’s recommendations, the Metacritic list, word of mouth, and other sources), which is now up to 379. It appears that about half of those albums are available for streaming on Rhapsody; so far, I’ve listened to 35, and partially listened to 9. There’s no way I can get through all of those, but I hope to listen to at least a little bit of most of the records.

Even though I have fairly broad tastes, there are certain styles and genres that just don’t appeal that much to me. A hip-hop or heavy metal record has to be something very special to connect with my personal tastes, and mainstream pop music rarely does anything other than bore or annoy me. So, while I try to keep an open mind, there are many albums that I can listen to and decide within a minute whether it has any shot of making my top 10.

The tough part is that vast number of pretty good albums — the ones that very well might grow on me if I had the time to listen more. Unfortunately, I have to make snap judgments and decide within minutes or seconds how much potential a recording has.

At the end of the year, I hope to have discovered some music that isn’t getting the attention it deserves. I’ll be posting some of my reactions to the music I’m hearing here over the next two months.

Tributosaurus becomes the Replacements

I wasn’t actually planning to see Dag Juhlin twice in one week, but there he was again — this time performing as part of Tributosaurus for the band’s Replacements tribute at Martyrs’ last night. In general, I’m not one for tribute bands, but Tributosaurus tackles nostalgia with an interesting twist — becoming a different band every month for one show.

Last night, Tributosaurus “became” the Replacements, and they did a fine job playing 21 of the Mats’ classic punk-rock tunes. Despite the fact that he looks nothing like Paul Westerberg (or just about any other singer he’s imitated), Matt Spiegel did often sound very much like the Replacements’ lead vocalist. Dag and some of the other band members had fun interjecting pieces of several ELO songs for no particular reason… and then, for its encore, Tributosaurus revealed it will become Supertramp for its next gig. I think I’ll have to skip that one. But the New Year’s Eve shows as Sly and the Family Stone ought to be fun.

Click here (or on the picture above) to see photos of Tributosaurus as the Replacements.

DAG JUHLIN & JASON NARDUCY AT SIMON’S

Dag Juhlin, former (?) member of the Slugs and Poi Dog Pondering, current solo artist and member of the Goldstars, teamed up Sunday night with Jason Narducy, formerly of Verbow, more recently a touring musician with Bob Mould and Robert Pollard. The two talented singer/guitarists played almost entirely covers of classic rock songs during an almost entirely unpublicized gig at Simon’s Tap in Andersonville. It was a low-key event, but still pretty fun. Juhlin’s as much of a card as ever, and it was nice to hear them weave together well-known tunes with identical chord progressions.

Why is this man wearing a dress?

…That’s the question, plain and simple. I just happened to find these photos — really, I’m not fishing for photos about cross-dressing — when I was searching through the Chicago Historical Society’s terrific archive of old Chicago Daily News photos, which is posted at the Library of Congress Web site. Some of the photos, including these particular images from 1906, come without much in the way of explanatory information. This is apparently a man named Julius Duc, who was sitting at a police station, wearing a dress. He doesn’t look too happy. And if he had been trying to pass as a woman, that mustache must have been a dead giveaway. Or was this just some sort of police prank? Hmmm. (Click on the photos for larger images.)

Recent Chicago theater

Chicago’s theater season “starts” in the fall, if you pay attention to most of the schedules put out by theaters, but in truth, it runs all year-round without much of a pause. However you look at the calendar, Chicago has a bounty of good to great plays this fall.

ARGONAUTIKA
Director Mary Zimmerman’s latest adaptation of a Greek mythology (following such marvelous productions as “Metamorphoses” and “The Odyssey”) is another wonder to behold. Watching a Zimmerman production is like seeing a bunch of talented actors and designers truly at play — playing with all of the toys at their disposal. There’s an infectious sense of fun about the stagecraft of Zimmerman and her collaborators. It’s amazing to watch how the seemingly simple stage is used to achieve different settings during the course of the show, and Michael Montenegro’s puppets are an especially fascinating addition.

Of course, this is the story of Jason and the Argonauts. Like some of Zimmerman’s earlier plays, it injects modern vernacular and humor into an ancient story. At times, the changes in tone can be a little jarring, but once you accept the self-reflexive nature of the play, the tale unfolds with ease. A few of the performances were top-notch, including Glenn Fleshler as Hercules, Atley Loughridge as Medea and Mariann Mayberry as Athena.

The last part of the story, more famously told in “Medea,” is summarized fairly abruptly. As a result, the motivations of Jason (Ryan Artzburger) get a little bit lost in Act 2. But then comes a closing scene involving the constellations that was almost breathtaking in its beauty. “Argonautika” continues through Dec. 23. See www.lookingglasstheatre.org. MY RATING: 3.5 out of 5.

HAMLET
This is one stark “Hamlet.” The set is basically a big, black slab of a floor. The backdrop is sometimes just a black wall, sometimes a big mirror. Lots of fog wafts down. All of the actors are dressed either in white or black — until the acting troupe within the story shows up. They’re clad first in grad overcoats, and then they perform all in red. In this almost existential setting, Ben Carlson gives a powerful performance as the famous Danish prince, particularly in the way he brings out the humor — the sardonic, bitter humor — in so many of Hamlet’s lines. Also noteworthy: Mike Nussbaum as Polonius, and Lindsay Gould, who really plays up Ophelia’s nutso scene. “Hamlet,” directed by Terry Hands, director emeritus of the Royal Shakespeare Company, continues through Nov. 18. See www.chicagoshakes.com. MY RATING: 4 out of 5.

KING LEAR
The Goodman Theatre’s production of “King Lear,” directed by Robert Falls and starring Stacey Keach, has closed, but it’s worth mentioning again. This show really polarized critics and audiences. I’ve heard as many people say they loved it as I’ve heard people saying they reviled it. I count myself in the first camp. Yes, it was nasty, modernized, sexualized and Balkanized (literally). No, this isn’t the “definitive” version of “King Lear” you’ll ever see. It’s just one interpretation — and a damn interesting one. And it was exciting to see something this provocative on the stage at one of Chicago’s most prominent theaters. MY RATING: 4 out of 5.

ANOTHER PART OF THE FOREST
Lllian Hellman’s “Another Part of the Forest” was the prequel to her best-known play “Little Foxes.” This production by Writers’ Theatre in Glencoe is filled with nearly perfect acting performances, including superb turns by some local regulars, Joel Hatch and Penny Slusher. It’s the drama of a dysfunctional Southern family in the late 1800s, with every dysfunction malfunctioning more as the play goes on. It’s a story that gradually builds in power. Even the characters who behave immorally have their reasons and a certain amount of symptahy. Now, if only some theater group were performing “Little Foxes” — that would be a great double bill. “Another Part of the Forest” continues through Nov. 26. See www.writerstheatre.org. MY RATING: 3.5 out of 5.

DENMARK
Victory Gardens Theatre has a glorious new home — inside a classic old theater, the Biograph. The last time I was in the place was to see “Pulp Fiction” on the big screen. Of course, it looks entirely different after all of the renovations. It’s an almost luxurious place to see a play, with comfy seats and great sight lines. And Charles Smith’s “Denmark” is an excellent show to break the place in. The play has nothing to do with the nation of Denmark, but rather is named for a freed slave in pre-Civil War South Carolina named Denmark Vesey. This is a drama that presents historical data and ethical dilemmas in way that’s both very natural and very clear — it never feels like a history lesson or an ethics lecture, but it gets across its points with just as much clarity. Anthony Fleming III brings a great deal of intelligence as well as emotion to his role as the title character. And there are quite a few other actors who shine in “Denmark” as well, with special kudos to A.C. Smith as Reverand Brown. “Denmark” continues through Nov. 12. See www.victorygardens.org. MY RATING: 3.5 out of 5.

THE PILLOWMAN
Of all the plays I’ve seen this fall, the most memorable — and the most powerful — is Martin McDonagh’s “The Pillowman,” directed by Amy Morton at Steppenwolf Theatre. The Chicago Tribune’s Chris Jones has an advantage over me, in that he saw “The Pillowman” in its earlier New York production. And he says that one was even more terrifying and disturbing. It’s hard for me to imagine it being much more upsetting than it already is without becoming too much to stomach.
But it’s not just an unsettling story about people committing unspeakable acts (people torturing children, murdering your parents, murdering children, police torturing people during interrogations) — it’s also a deep examination of the creative process. The channeling of violence into creativity is a key theme, and despite everything, there is a slight glimmer of humanity in all of this, even as the play takes us to bleak places. The cast is fabulous, including Jim True-Frost (who’s also so good on HBO’s “The Wire”) and Michael Shannon (who gave one of the best performances I’ve seen this year, in the earlier play “Grace” at Northlight, and then turned up in a so-so role in Oliver Stone’s “World Trade Center”).
“The Pillowman” continues through Nov. 12. See www.steppenwolf.org. MY RATING: 5 out of 5.

INHERIT THE WIND
Northlight Theatre’s production of “Inherit the Wind” is a mixed success. The scenes that set up the story — and the ones that end it — are stilted, an awkward mix of old-fashioned script writing and contemporary stage tricks that make it all seem rather artificial. But the courtroom scenes are really compelling, with two rousing performances: Tony Mockus as Matthew Harrison Brady, a character modeled after William Jennings Bryan, and Scott Jaeck as Henry Drummond, the surrogate for Clarence Darrow. Watching these two guys go at it in the courtroom battle over evolution and creationism is a hoot. But with this play being a fictionalized version of the Scopes Monkey Trial, it just whets the appetite for a more authentic telling of the true story. “Inherit the Wind” continues through Nov. 12. See www.northlight.org. MY RATING: 3 out of 5.

VIGILS
Something odd happens early on in this new play by Noah Hindle at the Goodman Theatre. The main character, a widow having trouble getting on with her life, is talking with her late husband’s soul, who is right there in the room with her, played by an actor. Just a figment of her imagination? Well, no, not exactly, because then it turns out that other people can see and hear this “soul” as well. And so “Vigils” takes place in a sort of metaphysical universe, not quite real. It alternates between comedy and some fairly serious topics with surprising grace. Certain memories play out repeatedly, with video projection providing the sort of special effects this play would probably not receive in a typical small production. Not all of it works, but overall, it’s a worthwhile and intriguing play. “Vigils” continues through Nov. 12. See www.goodmantheatre.org. MY RATING: 3 out of 5.

ENDGAME and PANTOMIME
A couple of plays that just closed still deserve some belated praise. Curious Theatre Branch’s performance of Samuel Beckett’s “Endgame,” part of the Rhinoceros Theatre Festival at Prop Thtr, captured the absurdity of the strange world that Beckett created in that script, making it all seem like an alternate world that operates by its own set of rules. And Pegasus Players’ production of Derek Walcott’s “Pantomime” was a low-key but engaging dialogue about race. ENDGAME RATING: 3 out of 5. PANTOMIME RATING: 3 out of 5.

Bob Dylan Oct. 27 at Sears Centre

I’d seen four Bob Dylan concerts before this one… which means I’m still a greenhorn compared to most Dylan fans. When I went to my Dylan show (a double bill with Joni Mitchell at Maple Leaf Gardens in Toronto around 1999), I was blown away — and I immediately regretted having waited so long before catching Dylan in concert. He was so passionate that night, and I was especially impressed by how much fun he seemed to be having playing the guitar, even taking solos on the electric guitar, not something he was famous for.

The next time I saw him was in 2001 at the United Center in Chicago, just after he’d released Love and Theft. Once again, he put on a fantastic show.

I was a little disappointed when I saw him on back-to-back nights in May 2004, one night at the Aragon and one at the Riveria. This was around the time he first switched from playing guitar to keyboards, for reasons that are still a little mysterious. Maybe the rumors are true that he can’t play guitar well enough any longer for physical reasons, or at least well enough to satisfy himself. Or maybe it’s just another one of his engimatic whims. Whatever the reasons, I found those 2004 shows a little lacking. Certainly worth attending, but not up to the standards of the previous concerts I’d seen.

Dylan’s still doing the keyboard thing, but he seems more comfortable with it now. Dylan seems to be stepping back a bit from the spotlight that normally shines on the singer at the front of a band, preferring instead to stand amid the other musicians.

Instead of facing the audience, he stands in profile, singing into a microphone at his side. Dressed in a black cowboy hat and a matching suit, Dylan leaned forward into the keyboard with his knees half-bent, swaying to the beat.

His voice, which was never an instrument of conventional musical beauty, has constricted down to a hoarse croak of limited range. At times, he sounded like a man in bad need of a lozenge. But the creaks in Dylan’s voice also add a feeling of authenticity to his songs, and he has learned ways of softly crooning some of the higher notes, especially on the tunes from Modern Times.

Dylan’s other voice is his harmonica, and he turned to the instrument several times Friday night for some nice solos. His keyboard playing had been almost inaudible on earlier tours, but it could be heard at many points Friday night. The keyboards were usually set to a sound resembling a skating-rink organ. Dylan’s playing was particularly effective when he echoed the guitar licks in “Highway 61 Revisited.”

Changing several songs from the set lists he had been playing a week earlier in California, Dylan opened with a couple of his signature 1960s tunes, a bluesy version of “Leonard-Skin Pillbox Hat” and a full-band arrangement of “The Times They Are-A Changin’” that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on his new record.

Dylan’s backup musicians, attired in hats and suits that made them look like a gang of gentlemen bandits, were nimble, mostly playing rollicking bluesy grooves but also switching to quieter string-band arrangements when the songs called for it.

Fans can count on Dylan digging into his back catalogue for at least one lesser-known track, and on Friday night, it was “Boots of Spanish Leather” from the 1964 album The Times They Are-A Changin’.

For his encore, Dylan and his band played “Thunder on the Mountain,” the opening track of Modern Times, with both the guitars and Dylan’s voice sounding vigorous. He followed that with a somewhat perfunctory “Like a Rolling Stone” and a stirring version of “All Along the Watcher” that divided up the vocal lines into an almost reggae-like pattern.

Overall, it was a great performance, not quite as good as the Dylan concerts I saw in 1999 and 2001 — but those both rank among the best shows I’ve ever seen by anyone.

This was only the second concert at the new Sears Centre in Hoffman Estates, following Duran Duran the previous night. It’s a minor-league sports stadium just a short distance from the very spot where Poplar Creek used to be — the place where I saw my first rock concerts as a high-school kid in the early 1980s, including Eric Clapton, the Animals and Dire Straits. Sears Centre will be the home to soccer, football, hockey and lacrosse teams.

The 11,800 seats were maybe half-full for Dylan, which was a shame… Maybe the ticket prices were too high. Mine was free, thanks to the fact that I was reviewing the concert for the Daily Southtown, but it would have been a steep $77 otherwise.

It’s an antiseptic arena sort of venue — lacking in character, but pretty much what you’d expect. The sound was good, with very clear acoustics and none of the reverberations often heard when rock bands play inside sports arenas. The mix allowed Dylan’s voice to be heard distinctly amid all of the other sounds.

While the Dylan show used little in the way of theatrical effects, Sears Centre showed what it’s capable of with an impressive if stereotypical light show during the opening set by Southern rockers Kings of Leon. The younger Dylan fans appeared to appreciate that group’s loud 1970s-influenced music, and even a few of the older fans could be seen nodding their heads to the rhythm.

BOB DYLAN SET LIST:
Leopard-Skin Pillbox Hat
The Times They Are-A Changin’
Stuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again
High Water (for Charley Patton)
Boots of Spanish Leather
Rollin’ and Tumblin’
Love Sick
Highway 61 Revisited
When the Deal Goes Down
Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum
Workingman’s Blues #2
Tangled Up in Blue
Summer Days
ENCORE
Thunder on the Mountain
Like a Rolling Stone
All Along the Watchtower

I did not have my camera with me for this concert … so the best I can manage for visual representations of Bob Dylan is this quick pen sketch I drew in the dark…

Overheard Conversations

So I was in one of those “Golden” restaurants in Chicago. You know, those places that serve pancakes and, well, just about everything else. And even though they don’t seem to be owned by the same restaurateurs, they’re all known as the Golden Something-Or-Other.

The voice of a woman sitting at the opposite end of the room carried through all of the other chatter and clatter, and I couldn’t help hearing what she was saying. This was an older white woman, wearing a cowboy hat, a bolo tie and a red plaid shirt. I later noticed that she was sitting in a booth with a black woman and a Chinese woman.

Three times, I heard the woman in the bolo tie utter important-sounding pronouncements:

“Five hundred thousand years ago, humanoids did not exist.”

“The intelligentsia don’t have a clue because the intelligentsia are in the middle of it.”

“And what about the boy child?”

2006 Chicago International Film Festival

The Chicago International Film Festival is over, but many of the films that showed at the festival will be coming back soon on screens big and small. Here are my reviews of what I saw.

TAXIDERMIA

Hungarian director György Pálfi made a startling debut with his film “Hukkle,” and now he has proven it was no fluke. His newest movie, “Taxidermia,” which obviously has a much bigger budget, shows that he’s a major talent. “Taxidermia” floored me. That being said, this is one of those movies that has to come with a “not for all tastes” warning sticker. Oh, yeah, let’s add a “not for the faint of heart” label. And while we’re at it: “Stay away from this movie if you cannot stand the sight of vomit.”

OK, now that we’ve winnowed down the potential audience to a few brave souls, it seems a good fit for the midnight cult movie circuit. It’s a film with eye-popping visual power and a twisted view of the world.

Like “Hukkle,” “Taxidermia” has a visceral feel as it shows close-ups of everything from naked breasts to the guts of animals. Even as the film plunges deep into demented fantasies, the images give it a tactile sensation, as if you could reach out and touch those shapes.

Both of Pálfi’s films have had a black sense of humor – and a sense of observational wit, as if some alien anthropologists watching the human race are chuckling at our absurdities. But while “Hukkle” contained no dialogue (that’s right – it was essentially a silent film as far as the spoken word goes, but it conveyed its story through images and sound), “Taxidermia” has plenty.

The movie spans three generations of the same warped family, covering much of Hungary’s history throughout the 20th century, though it’s too weird to be called a historical epic. (It may be a little “Tin Drum”-like at times.) The first part of the film concerns a sex-obsessed lieutenant at a rural outpost who peeps on the local ladies, spews flames from his penis when he masturbates, has his pecker pecked by a rooster and fantasizes about having sex with his commanding officer’s fat wife – even as he is actually, um, making love with the slaughtered remains of a pig. Or is he?

He is killed for his transgressions. A son is born, with a pig’s tail. The movie cuts ahead to that boy’s future as a speed-eating champion. Eating contests and the subsequent vomit-a-thonsdominate the fat middle of “Taxidermia,” a satire of the Soviet era.

The last third of “Taxidermia” brings the family ahead another generation, as the eating champion’s son becomes a skinny taxidermist. After that, things get even weirder, but I won’t reveal anymore. (Except to include this photo link.)

In a synopsis, the filmmakers say: “Past exists only in memories … And why cannot it be true? Why could not the world be like this? Why cannot the fertile human imagination toy with the facts of history, personal fates, details of lifestyles? Maybe this is the common border of things really happened and truth.”

“Taxidermia” has a number of scenes that are gruesome, sickening and disturbing. It’s also very funny, and some of the cinematic flourishes are reminiscent of the elaborate screen trickery in “Delicatessan” and other films by Marc Caro and Jean-Pierre Jeunet.

And while I can’t say I would really want to watch “Taxidermia” over and over, there is something to be said for art that brings you face to face with those things we think of as grotesque – when they’re just a fact of life. OK, I may be stretching with that point, since this is hardly a realistic film, but if we consider it all right to eat meat, then why not take a closer look at what the animal looks like when it’s being chopped to pieces and pulled apart?

“Taxidermia” has a fantastic Flash Web site, with a highly creative design:http://www.taxidermia.hu/

SYNDROMES AND A CENTURY

An earlier film I saw by this movie’s Thai director, Apichatpong Weerasethakul, “Tropical Malady,” was one of the most peculiar films of the last few years. It was hard to figure out exactly what the director was trying to say with “Tropical Malady,” but its odd juxtapositions and some of its surreal images stuck in my mind. With “Syndromes and a Century,” Weerasethakul is playing around with our minds once again. According to a synopsis, the film is supposedly about the director’s parents, who were doctors. But it’s far from being a straightforward memoir. Rather, it’s a series of vignettes, many told with realistic and natural humor. A rural hospital in the first half of the film is followed by an urban hospital in the second half, with many of the same scenes being acted out again – with similar but slightly different dialogue. This creates many moments of déjà vu. And then, at the end, “Syndromes and a Century” drifts off into a beautiful but almost abstract sequence, including a long shot of an air vent blowing steam. I don’t know what it all meant, but I found it mesmerizing, one of the best films I saw at the fest.

COMEDY OF POWER

Claude Chabrol is back with another thriller that isn’t really a thriller. Some of Chabrol’s films are a little dull, while others hit their mark, including the chilling “La Ceremonie.” He films stories that might have appealed to Hitchcock, but more often than not, films them in a matter-of-fact, almost flat style. This one was no exception. It was rather talky, and by the standards of American legal thrillers, it would probably be considered dull. And yet it really held my attention. Isabelle Huppert is great, as is usually the case (though this role was not quite as peculiar as some of her best performances). As a judge investigating corporate corruption, she is stubbornly determined.

CANDY

This Australian film is well acted and it’s a fairly well told story, but I couldn’t help wondering if it was worthwhile to sit through another movie about people addicted to drugs. I don’t know that I really found any insights into drug addiction that I haven’t seen in countless other films and stories. This isn’t bad, but nothing to get too excited about. The lead actress, Abbie Cornish, is breathtakingly beautiful and sexy … almost to the point where it distracted me from her fine performance. (OK, OK, I like her, all right?) Heath Ledger also gives a strong performance, and Geoffrey Rush is good in a supporting role.

DAY NIGHT DAY NIGHT

I wasn’t sure that I really wanted to watch another movie following a woman as she tries to go through with a terrorist plot to blow herself up. (See Santosh Sivan’s film “The Terrorist,” from 1999.) But this was tense and quite effective. It’s clearly filmed on a low budget, but that doesn’t matter, because the filmmakers make excellent use of their limited resources. The terrorist plot is left vague. Who are these people, and why are they sending this young woman to explode herself in Times Square? It doesn’t really matter. The woman seems stoic, though she begins to crack. Is she just a mixed-up young woman who wants to commit suicide, someone who ended up with the wrong people? That’s one possible way of reading the story. Luisa Williams’ performance as the would-be bomber is restrained, almost deadpan at times, but it feels real.

INVISIBLE WAVES

This is sort of a multicultural, international film, teaming up Thai director Pen-Ek Ratanaruang with Japanese actor Tadanobu Asano,  Australian cinematographer Christopher Doyle and Thai screenwriter Prabda Yoon. And many of the characters speak in broken English, seemingly as a way to communicate across Asian cultures. (Or maybe just to make the movie more marketable in the U.S.) While it’s described as a thriller, it’s much more existential and abstract than that. Or maybe it’s just confusing. It sort of drifts along without the driving plot that crime movies usually have. It has its moments, but I found it a little lacking. There are some precious moments of humor involving a low-rent cruise ship.

VITUS

A charming Swiss movie about a child prodigy on piano, which won a decent round of applause at the screening I attended. It’s a heartwarming movie, just quirky enough in places to keep things interesting. It’s the first movie I’ve ever seen that was in Swiss German, with subtitles in English as well as standard German. I remember enough German from college that I was trying to read the German subtitles and figure out how they related to what was being said, which was a little distracting.

FIREWORKS WEDNESDAY

This Iranian film won the festival’s top prize, the Golden Hugo, and it’s a worthy winner. Here’s an oversimplified plot summary: A woman who’s about to get married witnesses some other people in marriages that have gone bad. The story unfolds in a way that’s complex yet never confusing, and like the best of Iranian films, it feels like an honest and realistic portrait of the way people relate to one another.

STREET THIEF

This is a tricky one to describe in much detail because of the underlying question of whether it’s an actual documentary or a mockumentary. It’s fairly compelling, and even after you think you’ve figured it out, it keeps on raising questions. And for once, a movie made in Chicago looks like it was made in Chicago. “Street Thief” captures the city’s side streets better than any Hollywood film.

Who is ‘Solve’?

Walking around my neighborhood in Chicago, you see a lot of graffiti. And while I don’t approve of vandalizing public property, I do have to say some of the graffiti around here is pretty interesting from an artistic standpoint. Time Out Chicago has published an article about the graffiti artist who works under the pseudonym The Viking. I’ve seen that artist’s stickers around here, but I’ve also noticed numerous pieces of graffiti with the word “SOLVE” near them – which I assume is the artist’s identity, or maybe the theme of his or her artwork.

Some of these show an image (see above) of a face with a cross running over it, with a couple of hands below that.

Others show the iconic mug shot of Al Qaeda terrorist Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, who was arrested with a bad case of bed head. Interestingly, a short time after I first noticed these particular pictures, Mohammed was back in the news, when President Bush announced he was being transferred from one of those mysterious secret CIA prisons to good old Gitmo.

I’m not sure what Solve is trying to say with these pictures – some of it is standard anti-establishment imagery, but some of it’s quirkier and more interesting than that. Sometime after the Mohammed pictures appeared, a series of round stickers with simple images in black popped up all around the area. I am not sure if these are by the same artist, but I’m guessing they are.

Then, in perhaps his most outrageous violation of anti-graffiti laws yet, Solve painted an entire street-light control box lime green with pink polka dots — along with the signature “SOLVE.”

SEE PHOTOS OF GRAFFITI BY ‘SOLVE’ (I LEAST I THINK SO) AROUND UPTOWN AND LAKEVIEW.

Graceland Cemetery

Every October, the Chicago Architecture Foundation offers guided tours of Graceland Cemetery, which is just a couple of blocks from where I live. It was unseasonably chilly, but this was a fascinating chance to see sculptures by Laredo Taft (including an eerie statue of a hooded death-like figure) and ornamentation by Louis Sullivan and other noted designers – and the resting places of Chicago tycoons, boxing champion Jack Johnson and perhaps the most courageous politician Illinois has ever produced, Governor John Peter Altgeld, who pardoned the anarchists imprisoned for the Haymarket Square bombing. You don’t need a guided tour to look around inside Graceland; I know I’ll be back for return visits.

SEE PHOTOS OF GRACELAND CEMETERY.

Magnolia Electric Co. at the Abbey Pub

The songwriter Jason Molina keeps cranking out new songs at a prolific pace, and an alarming number of them are very good. One side of his music is the bare-bones sound of his solo recordings. And then there’s the fuller sound of Molina backed by Magnolia Electric Co., which especially comes across in the band’s live shows. Crazy Horse comparisons are standard-issue, and Molina also gets inspiration from Bob Seger. Whenever Molina takes a guitar solo, he mostly confines his fingers to the lower strings, playing bass-like figures in the middle of the sonic range. Molina and his excellent band rarely play more than an hour; this show clocked in just slightly longer than that, and there was no encore, even though a few of the more enthusiastic fans up-front obviously wanted one. Hearing “Riding With the Ghost” once again confirmed my feelings that it’s a terrific song, though even the most powerful live version is somewhat lacking without those haunting female vocals on the studio version.

The first opening act of the night, Chicago’s Arriver, plays pretty straight-ahead heavy metal with a touch of prog-rock ambition. It’s not exactly my favorite kind of music, but Arriver has a fun time with it. (CLICK HERE FOR SOME PHOTOS I SHOT AT AN EARLIER ARRIVER CONCERT.) The second band, Fog… well, I’m not sure what to make of them. There were moments, particularly some of the guitar solos that got my attention, but I had trouble pinning down exactly what sort of music they were playing. Not that that’s a bad thing.

SEE PHOTOS OF MAGNOLIA ELECTRIC CO.

Bonnie “Prince” Billy at the Portage Theater

The new record by Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, The Letting Go, is probably one of his best. (And I say this as someone who owns several BPB or Palace Music CDs, without having the complete discography.) This concert by Billy (aka Will Oldham) was quite good, though it didn’t sound much like his recent recordings. The icy recorded-in-Iceland textures and high female harmony vocals were gone, but the music still sounded like no one else’s.

Oldham has developed a peculiar pattern of motion — I hesitate to call it “dancing” — kicking one his legs behind him as he plays guitar, doing a sort of little skip. It’s a good fit for his voice, sometimes a mumble, sometimes a cracked howl. The band sounded loose, very loose, as if the musicians were figuring out the songs as they played them — no, that makes it sound too primitive. Let’s say it was more like an informal basement rehearsal, with a band going over songs that it knows but without being too worried about getting every note right. Azita was playing keyboards and operating a laptop, and she had the unusual role of leading a charades-like game with the set list. Oldham would turn to her before most of the songs and ask her what was next, then she would hold up her fingers to indicate how many words were in the song title and offer other clues.

I came in as the opening act, Dreamweapon, was wrapping up its set. I showed up in time to see a sitar, harmonium, and um… various other unidentified instruments all making droning sounds. A wave of undulating noise. Pretty good if you’re into that kind of thing…

A word about the Portage Theater. The last time I was in this building was the early 1990s, when I lived nearby. I came here once to see a movie, “Thelma and Louise.” Then this place was shut down for years. It reopened recently and has hosted silent movies and a horror movie convention. I believe this was the first rock concert at the Portage. It’s a huge place with a high ceiling, the room shaped a little like an airport hangar. It isn’t as ornate as some of the city’s more glittering old theaters, such as the Chicago Theatre and the Ampitheatre, but it does have some nice ornamental details on the walls and ceiling. The stage is pretty high off the floor, so the sight lines are good. There’s a wide space in front of the stage where people could have stood if they’d wanted (one or two guys did), and I ventured up there a few times for photos. The theater was pretty full for Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy. I’d venture a guess that most of the people in this crowd haven’t spent much time out in that part of the city, the Six Corners neighborhood on the Northwest Side, where not much happens as far as indie-rock shows. The Portage is a good addition to Chicago’s concert venues.

SEE PHOTOS OF BONNIE ‘PRINCE’ BILLY.

Juana Molina and Adem at Lakeshore

Photo of Juana Molina
Photo of Adem

Last night’s concert feels like a dream, or something I experienced while sleepwalking. Not that I was particularly tired, but it just felt strange when I finally made the decision at 10:35 p.m. that I would try to see this concert after all. I thought I would miss the opening act, Adem, but I walked in just as he was starting. I haven’t been inside the Lakeshore Theatre since it was a movie theater years ago (the Broadway). It still looks pretty much like it used to, with the concessions stand in the lobby now selling liquor instead of popcorn. It’s a nice place to see a low-key, sit-down concert.

I’ve felt ambivalent about Adem until now. His recordings are pretty good, and they have grown on me, but they’re maybe a little too restrained. Or maybe the layers of tinkling bells and such haven’t worked for me. But seeing his solo performance tonight was almost a revelation. I really like hearing his songs in this minimalist setting. It was mostly solo acoustic guitar and singing, but he played the thumb piano on one song (and awkwardly played thumb piano and guitar simulaneously on another song), ran bells on another and did a lovely little ukelele rendition of “God Only Knows.” It all was so pure and beautiful.

And it was the perfect opening for Juana Molina, another performer whose music is all about quiet moments, textures and layers and layers and more layers of sound. Like Andrew Bird or Laura Viers, she uses looping devices to create her hypnotic patterns right onstage in front of you. Despite some sound difficulties on the first song (it took a while for her voice to become at all audible), it was a thoroughly enchanting performance… very somnabulistic for me, though, and I could almost have drifted off into a peaceful sleep at a few points, no reflection on the music being boring. It would have been a perfect sleep, like a cartoon character drifting off through puffy clouds.

SEE PHOTOS OF JUANA MOLINA.

SEE PHOTOS OF ADEM.

TV on the Radio and Grizzly Bear at Metro


I’ve had trouble pinning down what exactly makes TV on the Radio’s music so unusual and so interesting. Is it the odd layers of sound on their records? The vocal style, including some parts that are almost like post-punk doo wop? I’m still not sure, but after seeing TV on the Radio in concert, I think there’s simply something distinctive about the group’s peculiar melodies and harmonies. The sound of the band was more direct in concert, but it was still beguiling and strange.

It was a high-energy show, with songs from both of the group’s albums plus some EP tunes. The band called a halt to the excessive outpouring of Metro’s fog machine (“That’s a little too much magic”). For the last song, the members of opening act Grizzly Bear came back onstage to dance and clap along.

I’m not familiar at all with Grizzly Bear, but I enjoyed their performance, which was mostly quiet ballads of the meditative and soaring sort.

SEE PHOTOS OF TV ON THE RADIO.

SEE PHOTOS OF GRIZZLY BEAR.

Okkervil River and Elvis Perkins at Schubas

Few singers put on such passionate performances as Okkervil River’s Will Sheff. You wonder how he can go through so much onstage catharsis night after night. He and his remarkable band delivered a typically intense show in the second night of a two-night stand at Schubas, including some new songs alongside fan favorites. I like the way the other members of Okkervil River, even the ones without microphones in front of them, sing along or mouth the words of Sheff’s songs. Even the guys who are ostensibly just there to play drums or bass obviously love the songs just as much as the fans do. At the end of the night, Sheff introduced “Kansas City” by saying, “This is the second-to-the-last time we’ll ever play this song.” He said he meaned it, but I’m hoping it was a joke.

Opening act Elvis Perkins seemed pretty good. Given his glasses and sweater and the name Elvis, I couldn’t help thinking of Marshall Crenshew as I listened. He was much less rockabilly than I’d imagined from his name. His song about the moon was excellent.

SEE PHOTOS OF OKKERVIL RIVER AND ELVIS PERKINS.

Cheer-Accident at the Empty Bottle

This concert was right up there with the recent Japanese New Music Festival show (also at the Empty Bottle) for sheer strangeness and avant-garde conceptual comedy. Or to put it in more vulgar terminology, what a mind fuck.

I walked in late, thinking that Cheer-Accident wouldn’t be starting until around 11 p.m. But they were already going at 10:15 p.m. I immediately recognized what they were up to — they were playing one chord over and over in a “lock groove,” standing on the stage almost perfectly still, with blank robot-like expressions on their face. I know Cheer-Accident has been known to play the same chord for long, long stretches of time. In a way, it’s better that I walked in late, because now I’m free to imagine that they’d been playing this chord since, say, noon. I think it actually went on for about half an hour. Looked like G minor seventh, I think. Some people in the bar were smirking, others looked annoyed, some had the glassy-eyed expressions of those trying to hear some nuance of slight change in the way the band was playing that chord.

Finally, that ended, and the opening act, Lord of the Yum Yum, came onto the stage while the members of Cheer-Accident continued standing there, still expressionless. Now, this Yum Yum dude was something else, a sort of comedic human beat-box singer. When he cracked up one of the members of Cheer-Accident, Yum Yum berated him for not acting enough like a statue. During Yum Yum’s final song, the members of Cheer-Accident slowly came back to life like toys with re-energizing batteries. And then, as Yum Yum departed, they launched back into that same chord and played it for a few more minutes.

Over the next two and a half hours, Cheer-Accident played a bewildering variety of noisy prog-rock and jazz-tinged pop, including some magnificent moments of instrumental power and some downright silliness.

At one point, drummer/singer/trumpeter/keyboardist Thymme Jones came to the front of the stage and said, “It wouldn’t be a CD release party without playing — but wait, we’ve got another song we’re going to do first.” Then, after playing the next two songs, Jones repeated the same banter and the band played those same two songs again. And then they repeated the whole shtick over again. After performing the same banter and songs three times, creating a peculiar feeling of deja vu, the set list finally moved on.

One song featured a few long and silent pauses, which seemed intended to goad the audience into yelling. During one of these interludes, another man came on stage and made noises by rubbing plastic bags on Jones’ microphone.

And for its final number, Cheer-Accident led the crowd in a German sing-along.

SEE PHOTOS OF CHEER-ACCIDENT AND LORD OF THE YUM YUM.

The Lonesomes and Phil Rockrohr at the Elbo Room

The Lonesomes are from Portland, Ore., but they have roots in the Chicago area. I know lead singer Phil Favorite from our days at The Daily Illini, but haven’t had a chance to see him play for a long time. The group’s new CD, Quick Fixes & Power Trips, is a solid alt-country record that sounds at times like the Drive-By Truckers or Son Volt, with some nice guitar licks. Check out the Lonesomes on myspace.

Another Daily Illini alum, Phil Rockrohr, also played at the Elbo Room with his band, the Lifters, playing some from the new CD, Thru the Haze. Rockrohr plays a blend of power pop and old-fashioned rock. The new song “Thinking of You” may be one of his best, with a very catchy chorus and some loud guitar chords. Check out Phil Rockrohr on myspace.

SEE PHOTOS OF THE LONESOMES AND PHIL ROCKROHR & THE LIFTERS.

Search me

Just what are the search phrases leading people to visit the Underground Bee and the other two Web sites I run (www.robertloerzel.com and the site for my book, www.alchemyofbones.com)?

Most people come here looking for photos or reviews of specific bands. Brazilian Girls and Sabina Sciubba are one of the most popular searches. (Gee, I wonder why? — See photo above. It’s too bad I was using my old camera during that Brazilian Girls concert last year and didn’t get the crisper images that I could have with my new camera.)

Here are a few of the more unusual search phrases that have led people to my sites (some of the items listed below are linked to the appropriate parts of the sites):

WWW.UNDERGROUNDBEE.COM
killing underground bee
tallwomen
senegalese fucked

[I think that last one must have led to my site because I mentioned Senegalese music and used the word “fucked” at some point, though I have no idea what this person was trying to find!]

WWW.ROBERTLOERZEL.COM
aimee mann best songwriter not on radio
dream phone ringing
watch advertisement
my husband wears panties
theatrical show-ninja
culture dish goo
dibujos animados
dibujos de vida
“in her stomach”
girlfriend unaware
kikkoman soy sauce

[Some of these have to do with my fiction or artwork… The “my husband wears panties” search ties in with a short story I wrote in which I switched the genders of the main characters.]

WWW.ALCHEMYOFBONES.COM
palmistry fate line divides in three
dog faced boy
jojo the dog faced boy

insane asylum stories

The 1900s at Subterranean

The 1900s were just as good as I remember them being back in June at Schubas – and now that I’ve had time to absorb their excellent EP Plume Delivery, the songs meant that much more to me. They’ve found a sweet spot between wispy ’60s pop and more rocking rock. (Is “rocking rock” redundant?) But the most pressing question is: When is this bunch going to put out a full-length album? I asked guitarist Edward Anderson that question before the show, and he said the 1900s are heading into rehearsals and the studio in the fall – well, actually NOW – and they hope to have an album out next spring. I can’t wait.

As far as shooting photos of the 1900s last night – could Subterranean be any darker? Maybe if the power went out completely. At least this is one photogenic band. The night started with an annoying set of DJ music and onstage calisthenics, with lots of nostalgia (or ironic nostalgia??) for the 1980s pop music that I hated when I lived through it in the 1980s and still hate today. After the 1900s, headliner Bobby Conn played, but I was out of there by then.

SEE PHOTOS OF THE 1900s.

Sufjan Stevens and My Brightest Diamond at the Riv

As much as I liked the 2005 Sufjan Stevens album Illinois — and as much as I enjoyed the concert I saw by him last year at Metro — I had trouble working up much enthusiasm for seeing him this week. Maybe it was because his new album of Illinois outtakes, The Avalanche, is tepid. But he’s undeniably a talented guy, probably a genius at arranging strings and incorporating them into pop music, so this was certainly a worthwhile concert. The cheerleaders from last year were gone, but there was still a sense of spectacle. The 15 musicians backing up Sufjan wore butterfly wings, while Stevens had big bird wings (and wore a feathery bird mask over the top of his head for the opening two instrumental songs). It was postively Peter Gabriel-esque (in a 1972 Genesis sort of way, that is). And then there was that little rooster figure that was sitting on a stool near Stevens throughout the show, which he claimed they’d stolen from a Perkins restaurant earlier on the tour.

This concert focused less on the Illinois songs, but those were the ones that won the biggest applause here in the Prairie State. As I did at last year’s Sufjan concert, I sensed something amazing happening with the music scene. It’s so encouraging to see thousands of young people getting excited and enthusiastic about sophisticated orchestral folk music. I don’t think the worshipful Sufjan cult will necessarily result in a lot of other artists making similar music, but I hope it signals a new willingness to embrace music with unconventional arrangements and musical sophistication that goes beyond the Blink-182’s of the world.

SEE PHOTOS OF SUFJAN STEVENS.

I’m probably one of the few people at this concert who was there mostly to see the opening act, My Brightest Diamond, but I’m hoping this wonderful artist (aka Shara Worden) will soon be attracting a lot more fans of her own. The debut album by My Brightest Diamond (both the name of her band and her stage name), Bring Me the Workhorse, is one of 2006’s most outstanding albums, full of haunting, intimate and intelligent songs blending a deep knowledge of classical music and opera with punk attitude. I had the great privilege to meet with Shara Worden before the concert tonight and interview her for a forthcoming article, and her performance did not disappoint — except for the fact that it was so short, just six songs. She’ll be back at Schubas on Nov. 11, though she apparently won’t have the string section that she was able to borrow from Sufjan Stevens at this show. In any case, don’t miss her the next time she’s in town.

SEE PHOTOS OF MY BRIGHTEST DIAMOND.

The Sadies at Schubas

I’ve probably said enough before about how fabulous of a band the Sadies are, so I won’t repeat myself too much here. As always, they put on a roaring-good show filled with lots of exceptional guitar playing. The opening act, Heavy Trash, was actually the Sadies plus Heavy Trash — which made it more enjoyable for me. I’m not a huge fan of Heavy Trash’s rockabilly, but it sounded pretty good in this setting. During the Sadies’ set, they brought out guest vocalists (three of Chicago’s finest), Kelly Hogan, Sally Timms and Jon Langford, before finishing up around 2 a.m. with more Heavy Trash. What, no “Memphis, Egypt”? Now, that would have been a great way to close out the night. Oh, well. Otherwise, tons of fun.

SEE PHOTOS OF THE SADIES & HEAVY TRASH.

Chicago World Music Festival

I neglected the festival this year — a shame. It’s an exciting way to sample music from around the world. But I did make it to the closing-night open house of free performances at the Chicago Cultural Center on Sept. 21. I walked in just in time to catch the last 15 minutes of Debashish Bhattacharya, which was the best thing I heard all night. At first, I thought he was playing sitar or a similar Indian instrument, but then I read the program notes and realized it was actually a slide guitar sitting in his lap — albeit a modified guitar with added drone strings. This guy was just incredible, and I can honestly say he “rocked.” He might just win over Western rock fans who never got the whole Ravi Shankar thing.

After a late start (due to musical equipment getting delayed at the airport), Italian singer Carmen Consoli. Her voice impressed me, but her songs were just fair. At moments, her folk-pop arrangements reminded me in a good way of the great Lhasa, but there was a tinge of Europop to it that bugged me. Still, she was good enough that I’d give her another shot.

The Alaev Family sounded intriguing, but the concert hall where they were playing was too crowded to enter, so I went instead to the cafe show by Aza — a couple of Moroccan guys who have settled in California and hooked up there with three American musicians. This was quite nice, hypnotic desert groove music, a little like Tinariwen.

King Lear

 

Wow, they weren’t kidding when they put an “adult subject matter” warning on the tickets for this show. Of course, “Lear” is bound to include some violence that might disturb more sensitive types (eyeball plucking, anyone?), but this production goes far beyond the typical. Among other things, be prepared for some… Wait, I don’t want to spoil this for anyone who wants to be experience the shock with fresh eyes. Let’s just say there’s some simulated sex onstage of a type that you wouldn’t normally expect to see at a ritzy downtown Chicago theater. Not to mention those eyeballs being pulled out, the typical gun shots and stabbings and stranglings… And nudity. Oh, yeah, Stacy Keach gets naked onstage. For a few seconds, at least.

When I intereviewed director Robert Falls, he said he was using sets and costumes that evoke the recent history of Yugoslavia, though he didn’t like summing up the play that simply. He went beyond what I expected, with a fullpblown modernization of the play’s look, complete with some hip-hop references, Balkan music and a bit of the Rolling Stones’ “Gimme Shelter.” The production opens with a view of some urinals and ends with a massive amount of debris, including wrecked cars, strewn across the stage.

I’m no Shakespeare scholar, so I always feel a little inadequate to the task of critiquing Shakespeare productions, but I can say I enjoyed this immensely. Keach was great as Lear, especially when he literally goes barking mad.

The inventive staging might bother some people – it certainly does distract you at times from the Bard’s words – but it was fascinating to see how Falls constantly came up with new and interesting ways of presenting the oft-told story.

www.goodmantheatre.org

CD reviews


TV ON THE RADIO
Return to Cookie Mountain
(Interscope)

Although they’ve made the leap from an independent label to the majors – and they’re showing up now on late-night network TV – this Brooklyn band is still uncategorizable and peculiar. The vocal harmonies evoke ’70s funk and R&B records, with some touches of older doo-wop, while the tricky and dense arrangements often feel like a challenge to the listener: “Decode this!”  The lyrics require a little deciphering, too, but they clearly communicate a sense of unease about the world’s darkness. In “Wolf Like Me,” the narrator tries to fight off the curse of being a werewolf (“Mirror my malady/Transfer my tragedy”) before finally embracing his hairy inner beast. TV on the Radio is trying to transform rock music into something equally supernatural and dangerous.


YO LA TENGO
I Am Not Afraid of You And I Will Beat Your Ass
(Matador)

For most of its long career, Yo La Tengo has alternated between loud songs built on droning riffs and quiet moments of intimacy. After going all-quiet on its last two albums, the New Jersey trio is back to a more varied sound this time. The simple but addictive little bass line that pulses through the opening song, “Pass the Hatchet, I Think I’m Goodkind,” lets you know that these indie-rock veterans haven’t gone completely soft in their middle age. That song and the closing track both stretch past the 10-minute mark, building with raga-like intensity. Those marathon songs never drag, but the album as a whole does feel too long. A little pruning would help, but it’s still a worthwhile addition to the Yo La Tengo catalogue.

BRAZILIAN GIRLS
Talk to La Bomb
(Verve/Forecast)

First off, here’s the standard disclaimer that appears in virtually every article on Brazilian Girls: They’re neither Brazilian nor girls. Well, there’s one female in the bunch, the sultry Sabina Sciubba, but she’s a German-Italian who sings in several languages. Like the group’s 2005 debut, this sophomore album is fizzy and fun, filled with smartly programmed electronic beats and catchy tropical melodies. Leaning a little bit more toward electronica than the first album, it’s dance music that should appeal to musical cognoscenti as well as the folks who just want to get down. Imagine a Björk album without all of that weird warbling; Sciubba just sounds cool and sexy.

I can’t mention Brazilian Girls without posting one of my favorite photos of Sabina Sciubba from last year’s concert at Metro. After all, searches for photos of “Brazilian Girls” and “Sabina Sciubba” are one of the top search strings that lead people to this Web site. Go figure. Click above for a close-up.

LAMBCHOP
Damaged
(Merge)

RICHARD BUCKNER
Meadow
(Merge)

Listeners looking for instant gratification may dismiss the new albums from the Merge label by Lambchop and Richard Buckner. Both artists are working at the fringes of alternative country, with low-key melodies that don’t exactly jump right out at you. But patience will pay off.

Lambchop’s Kurt Wagner barely manages to croak out anything resembling a tune as he recites his lyrics Leonard Cohen-style over melancholy orchestration, but somehow, the patterns of his words are memorable. The effect is somewhat like eavesdropping on one side of a deeply personal conversation. If anything, “Damaged” is even quieter than previous Lambchop hush-a-thons — until Wagner angrily chants “Damn, they’re looking ugly to me” on the oddly alluring closing track, “The Decline of Country and Western Civilization.”

Eight albums ago, Buckner started off as a somewhat typical-sounding roots singer, but then he went underground instead of mainstream. Reuniting with producer J.D. Foster and bringing in musicians from Guided By Voices and the Mekons, Buckner has found a strong lineup that adds some spark to his downtrodden, impressionistic tunes, a sound aptly described by the first words Buckner drawls: “Pretty destroyed.”

AUG. 29, 2006

BOB DYLAN
Modern Times
(Columbia)

You’ve probably seen all of the rave reviews by now. And maybe I’ll rave a little more after I’ve had a chance to live with this album. But my early impression is that this is just a pretty good Dylan records. Of course, his lyrics are interesting (and will require more time for me to digest). And I think he’s found an effective way of using his worn-out, hoarse voice to sing, a sort of whispery rasp that’s actually delicate as it quietly carries the melodies.

But the overall sound of this record – the soft-shoe-shuffle pre-rock jazz-pop vibe – just doesn’t appeal to me all that much. It’s not that I don’t like that kind of music, but this band’s arrangements just seem too timid and too unvaried. I hate to sound anything like those people back in the ’60s who were outraged when Dylan went electric, but I can picture these songs sounding so much better if they were done as acoustic guitar and harmonica numbers – or as “Like a Rolling Stone” style rock-folk songs. Maybe Dylan needs to bring in someone like M. Ward or Gilian Welch to arrange his material.

And what’s with him name-checking Alicia Keys? Bob is just being Bob, I guess. His sense of humor is as good as ever.

My favorite song of the record (so far) is the last one, “Ain’t Talkin’,” which finally brings the album the otherwise lacking sense that something important is happening.

AUG. 24, 2006

M. WARD
Post-War
(Merge)

Over the course of five albums, M. Ward has quietly established himself as one of his generation’s best singer-songwriters, and a master guitarist as well. His gift for indelible melodies is undimmed on Post-War. He’s still singing in a hushed, distant tone, but more of the songs have a full-band sound and more of the solos are electric. The war in the title might be metaphorical or literal, but either way, Ward is haunted by questions of mortality as he pursues life’s meaning. In “Right in the Head,” he sings: “I lived with many ghosts when I was younger, and I will live with many ghosts until I grow old.” Whatever those ghosts are, they’re inspiring Ward to make some marvelous music.

Album of the year? It’s in the running. Currently, Neko Case’s Fox Confessor Brings the Hold is holding the No. 1 spot on my personal list, and Gnarls Barkley’s St. Elsewhere is also a strong contender. But Post-War is the record I can’t stop listening to at the moment.

“Requiem” is yet another Ward song about a friend who has died – following up “O’Brien/O’Brien’s Nocturne” on End of Amnesia and “Vincent O’Brien” on The Transfiguration of Vincent. I don’t know if Ward’s still singing about that guy named Vincent O’Brien or someone else, but the sentiments are similar.

Mortality figures in several other songs. In “To Go Home,” Ward sings, “God it’s great to be alive, takes the skin right off my hide to think I’ll have to give it all up some day.” That sums up the fear of death and joy of living so well. Those aren’t Ward’s own words – this is the second time that Ward has covered a song by Daniel Johnston, coming after the equally affecting “The Story of an Artist” – but Ward made a perfect choice in including this song along with his own. With chaotic drumming, pounding piano chords and backup vocals by Neko Case, this recording transforms the tentative, goofy original by musical outsider artist Johnston into a powerful anthem.

With mournful Mellotron and strings, “Poison Cup” proposes the idea that love is poison – and should be swallowed anyway. “Right in the Head” is almost scary as Ward sings about hoping his brother isn’t insane.

“Chinese Translation” is a clever song with a circular narrative about a man seeking life’s answers from a wise old sage on a mountain. Note the slight differences in the lyrics when they repeat. The young man asks the old man for answers, then the old man tells the story of how he, too, came here asking questions when he was young. But instead of being told to “sing” the song, he was told to “play” it – and thus the song moves into a final instrumental section.

“Neptune’s Net” is another wonderful instrumental part of the album, and “Magic Trick” is a nifty little Beach Boys-esque pop tune co-produced by Jim James of My Morning Jacket.

It was great seeing M. Ward making his network television debut Aug. 24 on“The Late Show With David Letterman.” And the new CD includes a nicely animated video for “Chinese Translation.” Here it is on youtube.

CROOKED STILL
Shaken by a Low Sound
(Signature Sounds)

Crooked Still plays public-domain folk songs and classics by Robert Johnson, Bill Monroe and Bob Dylan in a style that blends traditional bluegrass with a slightly jazzy tinge of cello. The precise arrangements are spare but sparkling, leaving plenty of room for Aoife O’Donovan’s lovely vocals.

THE SADIES
In Concert, Vol. One
(Yep Roc)

With their blazing-fast guitar licks, Canada’s Sadies are quite simply one of the best live rock bands working today, so they’ve earned the right to put out a two-CD concert recording. Playing a mix of surf riffs, spaghetti Western-style themes and country-folk recalling the Byrds and the Band, the Sadies duplicate the sound of their records — proving, if nothing else, that they can do all that fancy fretwork without the aid of studio gimmicks. Many guests take the stage, including Neko Case, Garth Hudson, Jon Langford, Kelly Hogan, Jon Spencer, the Jayhawks’ Gary Louris, members of Blue Rodeo and various relatives of Sadies guitarists Travis and Dallas Good. The star-studded cast makes for a fun jamboree.

The Vertebrats at the Iron Post

I never had the chance to see the Vertebrats back in the day, when they were all the rage on the University of Illinois campus in the early 1980s, so these two reunion shows were must-sees. Of course, I can’t really say how this compared to the concerts back then, but the songs have held up great – and the reconvened Vertebrats fans were an enthusiastic bunch, moshing like they were still teenagers.

Regular Vertebrats bassist Roy Axford was absent, but his substitute was another veteran of the 1980s Champaign scene, Paul Chastain, who has gone on to quasi-fame with the Velvet Crush. Drummer Jim Wald switched to guitar and J.R. Richardson took over the drummer’s seat.

I can’t talk about the Vertebrats without mentioning the long article I wrote a few years ago about the history of their song “Left in the Dark, following its path as it was covered by the Replacements, Uncle Tupelo and Courtney Love. (Is that Courtney Love version ever going to see the light of day? Her career and life seem to be a wreck, but it’d still be nice if that came out in some form…) Hear the original song here.

Townie, a band featuring a couple of the Vertebrats (Kenny Draznik and Matt Brandabur) plus my friend Paul Budin (formerly of another great Champaign band, the Outnumbered) and Pat Dailey, opened up the shows, sounding especially good on Saturday night when a couple of horn players sat in with them.

Both of these bands should play more often. The last Vertebrats reunion was in 1995– don’t let another 11 years go by without playing, guys!

I noticed that all of the members of the Outnumbered were present. It’s too bad they couldn’t do a little reunion, too. In fact, I’m hoping someone will someday put together a festival featuring some of the Champaign bands I fondly remember from my days at the U. of I. To name a few: Lonely Trailer, the B-Lovers, Stamp Act, Turning Curious, Titantic Love Affair, Weird Summer, Ballyhoo, The Nines, The Big Maybe, the Last Straw, Contraband, Cowboy X, Nick Rudd and Paul Chastain.

Cat Power at the Vic

SEPTEMBER 13, CHICAGO

This was one of those Cat Power concerts. OK, not a total train wreck like some of the ones I’ve read about. But it certainly had more than its share of awkward moments when the train almost derailed.

I’ve never seen her before, though I’ve heard about her aborting songs and entire concerts. The reports were that she had her shit together for this tour.

The backup group playing behind her, the Memphis Rhythm Band, is great, and she seemed at ease playing the role of front-woman. Man, she has some odd dance moves. She was perched on stiletto heels — and though she took off and put on her shoes several times over the course of the night, even when she was barefoot, she seemed to be poised on her toes like she might fall over at any moment. She made swimming motions with her hands, danced Irish-style jigs, did whatever move seemed to pop into her head. Most of the time, this was charming, though it was disconcerting when she continued moving around like a kook even during a pensive ballad like “Where Is My Love?”

Midway through the show, the band left the stage and Chan Marshall played a solo set, mostly at the piano. She does have a great voice, which came though whether she had the whole band or just herself for accompaniment. But the solo set dragged with meandering songs and rambling talk (including her discussions of “Arrested Development” and Sandra Bernhard). Somewhere in there, she did a haunting cover of “The House of the Rising Sun,” though it devolved after a few minutes.

When the band came back, the concert regained its momentum, with covers of “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” and Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy” (a fine version, but that too got lost when Marshall couldn’t remember the lyrics).

The concert seemed to be ending. Marshall and some of the other musicians (including her backup singers) joined hands and did some impromptu a cappella bit. They took their bows … and then Marshall decided to go over to the piano for another solo set, warning, “This is going to bore you.” The performances that followed were fine, but they really felt poorly timed. She reached for her guitar, then changed her mind, saying, “I gotta go, I gotta go.” She won some concert-ending applause, but then remained on the stage and started talking about her hair. People got quiet to hear what she was saying, then she walked off and the house lights came up within seconds. End of show.

Marshall blamed her odd behavior on drinking too much coffee, and also explained, “Sorry. I’m so stupid because I’m happy, that’s all.”

Waiting a few minutes later on the el platform, I overheard a woman who’d been at the concert angrily telling her date, “She just crapped on the audience.” I wouldn’t go nearly that far, but I know what she meant.

For better or worse, Marshall performs a lot of unscripted moments. Overall, the concert was worth seeing for a number of good musical moments, but man, it would have been better with some editing.

Hideout/Touch & Go Block Party, Day Three

It was a gray and rainy day, rather cool for this time of year, so it was hard for me to get motivated to show up early for the block party. I managed to get there in time for Tara Jane O’Neil, whose solo guitar songs sounded promising to me; I’ll have to hear more. Of the other bands today, Seam, the Black Heart Procession and Pinback were pretty good, though nothing really blew me away. Brick Layer Cake — with his stilted rhythms on guitar and largely tuneless singing — turned off some listeners, but I found it pretty funny. Not something I’m likely to listen to much, but worth seeing at least once. CocoRosie was the strangest act of the day, if not the whole festival, with harp, operatic singing and African rapping all blended together in a surreal stew. Not for all tastes, but fascinating.

I’d seen Calexico twice in the last few months, so I wasn’t all that eager to see their fest-closing set — but they reminded me again how good they are. In fact, because the sound was better, this struck me as a much-improved set from their performance at Lollapalooza. And it was a fine way to wrap up the block party.

SEE PHOTOS.

Hideout/Touch & Go Block Party, Day Two

An assembled mass of old punk fans, predominantly dressed in black, with short-cropped hair, is gathered in the parking lot where the city of Chicago normally keeps its garbage trucks. I hear clusters of people speaking in German or Japanese. The faithful have gathered to hear reunions and long-awaited shows by some of the, um, “seminal” bands that shaped post-punk’s sound. As Steve Albini notes during the evening set by Big Black, a lot of people talk about the history of punk as if it skipped straight from the Sex Pistols to Nirvana. Well, this day was all about what came in between.

I showed up in time to see and hear a galvanizing performance by The Ex, a long-running band out of the Netherlands I’ve only discovered recently. Then came pulverizing punk by Killdozer, a collaboration between Jon Langford of the Mekons and Kat of the Ex (a phenomenal drummer who is bringing out some interesting sides of Langford’s guitar playing) and the cheeky Didjits. P.W. Long’s solo acoustic music didn’t impress me much, and neither did Negative Approach, one of the first bands signed to Touch & Go lo so many years ago. They struck me as pretty straightforward punk, nothing all that interesting (god, that lead singer knows how to sneer, though). As I stood in the photo pit, I felt something hit me lightly on the shoulder. I looked down. It was a toothbrush, thrown in my direction by someone in the crowd.

Another Mekon was up next, Sally Timms, doing those fractured and odd arrangements that have characterized her music of late. It’s an acquired taste, but I’m starting to acquire it. (Too bad the entire Mekons crew wasn’t available to play at the block party — to me, they are one of the seminal Touch & Go bands.)

Scratch Acid played a chaotic, incredibly energetic set, featuring the famous antics of singer David Yow. He’s been compared to Iggy Pop, and I can see why (though Iggy looks a lot better with his shirt off). At one point, Yow leapt into the photo pit and grabbed Touch & Go owner Corey Rusk. I was a couple of feet away, not sure exactly what was happening. I snapped some pictures, including one of Rusk apparently biting Yow on the hand. A playful bite, I take it.

Man … or Astroman? had the coolest set of the festival. (Actually, they had just about the only “set” that went beyond a basic set-up.) TV monitors, spiral yellow tubes, space-age junk… you get the idea. The mostly instrumental space surf guitar music was fun, if nothing super special.

The biggest event of the day for most people was probably the brief reunion of Big Black’s original lineup. As promised, it was short, with just four songs. The Big Black show began with Albini tossing some lit firecrackers onto the stage, which scared back us photographers as they popped (I felt a spark or two hit me, but have no injuries to report). At one point Albini remarked that the audience could probably pick up on the fact that they weren’t thrilled to be doing it — but that they were willing to do it for the sake of Touch & Go. (Gee, thanks for the enthusiasm.) The Big Black set was followed by a strong show by Albini’s current band, Shellac.

SEE PHOTOS.

Oakley Hall at Metro

Oakley Hall impressed me when I saw them in January 2005 at the Empty Bottle (opening for the Constantines), but their first album, which I purchased at the show that night, was a bit of a disappointment. A decent start for the group, but a little too lo-fi. The new Oakley Hall albumGypsum Strings is a marked improvement (I’ve yet to pick up the record the band released earlier in 2006, Second Guessing, but it’s now on my “must” list), and the band sounds even better in concert. I hear a lot of Fairport Convention and Richard and Linda Thompson in their music, mostly because vocalist Rachel Cox sings in that even-toned English folk style — and because the repeating chords have some of that dirge quality you hear in Fairport. It’s a fascinating variation of the music that guitarist/singer/keyboardist Pat Sullivan did when he was in Oneida. Oakley Hall takes those folk elements and then really cranks up the guitar riffs and oscillating keyboard chords. Sullivan’s just an OK vocalist, so it’s a good thing that the wonderful Cox is taking over more of the singing duties. SEE PHOTOS OF OAKLEY HALL AT METRO.

Oakley Hall’s set list:

M. Ward at Metro

For anyone who has the impression that M. Ward performs sleepy, quiet music (an impression you could easily get from some of his records), this performance definitely proved otherwise. Ward played electric guitar, not acoustic, almost all night, until the first encore. And he had two — two! — drummers. Ward and his band rocked, with Ward taking some wonderful guitar solos. It’s not just the solos that make his playing special, it all of the subtle finger picking he employs throughout his songs. But when he’s playing with a full band, he doesn’t hog the spotlight, often delegating some of the guitar lines to the other players, allowing him to sing verses without touching the strings, or to step over to his electric piano.

Ward tends to crouch down, doing sort of a low-key version of Chuck Berry’s duck walk as he skulks across the stage with his guitar. And his microphones are set low so that Ward has to lean down into them, scrunching his face as he sings in his husky voice. His face looks calm as he plays a solo, though, his fingers flying with amazing ease.

As Ward and his band came out, a recording of Daniel Johnston’s original version of “To Go Home,” the second track on Ward’s new album, was playing. With Ward pounding the chords on the piano and those two drum kits clattering with a joyful sound, his band took over the song.

While there were a few folky moments, Ward emphasized the rock side of his repertoire. After closing the main set with “Big Boat,” Ward returned to the stage alone for an acoustic encore. In “I’ll Be Yr Bird,” he changed the words to “I’m not Vic Chestnutt, I’m no Bob Mould.”

The set list on the stage listed another Daniel Johnston song, “The Story of an Artist,” as the final song of the night, but when Ward and band came back for a second encore, they instead chose to play the song that may be Ward’s most memorable anthem, “Vincent O’Brien,” and it was the finest live version of it I’ve heard.

This was also surely one of the best concerts I’ve seen this year.

M. WARD SET LIST
To Go Home
Four Hours in Washington
Right in the Head
Magic Trick
Chinese Translation
Requiem
Undertaker
Post-War
Poison Cup
Emperor (instrumental)
Flaming Heart
Regeneration #1
Neptune’s Nest
Helicopter
Poor Boy, Minor Key
Big Boat

FIRST ENCORE
Duet for Guitars #3 (this may have begun with Rag)
I’ll Be Yr Bird
Paul’s Song
Lullaby & Exile

SECOND ENCORE
Vincent O’Brien

SEE PHOTOS OF M. WARD AT METRO.

Hideout/Touch & Go Block Party, Day One

With the addition of the Touch & Go 25th anniversary theme, the Hideout’s annual Block Party has become a bigger affair than ever before. All three days sold out in advance? Wow. Well, I guess there are many fans of ’80s and ’90s punk-rock flocking to this event to relive their old glory days. I have to admit there are a lot of bands on the lineup that I don’t know all that well — in many cases, I knew these bands more by their reputation than their music. So I feel inadequate to the task of giving a really well-informed critique of their performances, but I was eager to see and hear what I’ve been missing.

As it all got under way, Hideout head honcho Tim Tuten thanked the city for allowing the Hideout to use the parking lot next to Wabansia, where garbage trucks are normally parked. He said the city workers had been cleaning up and preparing the area for the festival for the past couple of weeks — and a couple of the guys had asked him if Twisted Sister would be reuniting for the party. Yeah, he told them, they’re playing at 8 o’clock on Saturday. As always at the Hideout’s block parties, it’s strange but somehow fitting to see that hulking Department of Fleet Management building behind the stage, with old brick factories ringing the rest of the site. An industrial setting for Chicago rock music.

Friday night got off to a good start, with the Shipping News. I didn’t care much for the dance music of Supersystem, but the next set by Girls Vs. Boys was strong. I would have liked to stick around for Ted Leo and !!!, but I also had a ticket to see M. Ward and Oakley Hall at Metro (a must-see for me), so I headed uptown at 8 p.m.

SEE PHOTOS FROM DAY ONE OF THE HIDEOUT BLOCK PARTY.

Japanese New Music Festival

This was one of the most peculiar concerts I’ve ever seen. Billed as “Japanese New Music Festival,” it was actually two of the guys from Acid Mothers Temple (Tsuyama Atsushi and Kawabata Makoto) and the drummer from the band Ruins (Yoshida Tatsuya) teaming up in seven different configurations over the course of one night — so it was allegedly seven different “bands,” each of them including either one, two or three of these guys, and each playing music in a different style. A lot of it was comical performance art, really.

First up was Seikazoku, with all three musicians doing free-form avant-garde improv.

Then came the oddest act of the night, Akaten (Atsushi and Tatsuya). They used no instruments and hooked up clip-on microphones to various objects to make noise — including one song that they played on the zippers of their pants. Other “songs” were played on a toothbrush and a camera. For one piece, the two guys drank wine, using sound effects of bottles being opened and wine being poured into glasses, with the sounds out of synch with the actual objects. They were laughing and having a good time as they fooled around onstage, and it was pretty funny.

Next, Makoto and Tatsuya played as the improvising duo Shrinp Wark (a Japanesization of “Shrink Wrap”), which was more rock-oriented that the jazzy noodling earlier in the night.

Tatsuya did an impressive set of drum solos (actually drumming along with prerecorded tracks of guitar and other sounds), under the name Ruins Alone. And all three musicians performed a cappella under the name Zubi Zuva X. Introducing one song as a “world music jam,” they explained that it combined Tuuvan throat singing, African pygmy chants and Japanese Noh music, all at once. Again, the guys were cracking up.

The two AMT guys played as a duo called Zoffy, doing mostly weird cover versions of some well-known songs. They were laughing again as they gave a long introduction to one song — “This next song is a very, very famous song … avery, very, fucking famous … a million-peoples famous song … a more famous than George Bush famous song… This is a by-the-people, of-the-people, for-the-people famous song … It’s ‘Smoke on the Water’ by Deep Purple as done by Captain Beefheart and Bob Dylan.” And that’s what it was. They followed up that with a

hroat-singing version of Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song” and truncated versions of a few Miles Davis songs — with Makoto playing guitar and Atsushi pretending to play a toy trumpet (but not actually making any noise).

The final half hour was more of a “normal” Acid Mothers Temple set, which rocked with abandon. The band keeps using different names for its various units, and this one was billed Acid Mothers Temple SWR. Finally, for the last bit of the encore, Atsushi chanted, “We’re only in it for the money.” It was an appropriate Zappa-esque touch to end the show.

At times, all of the tomfoolery got to be a bit much, but it was certainly a very memorable concert.

SEE PHOTOS FROM “JAPANESE NEW MUSIC FESTIVAL.”

Radio Birdman at the Double Door

Somehow, I’ve missed out on Radio Birdman all these years — heard the name, didn’t know much beyond that. I picked up on some excitement that these Aussie punks were back together and touring, so this show became a must-see. The Radio Birdman tracks I’ve checked out are solid, tuneful punk, and this reunion gig was a top-notch performance. With his long white hair, unrestrained singing and exuberant moves, vocalist Rob Younger was an arresting presence. I heard some longtime fans of the band saying they weren’t disappointed — and that they could hardly believe their luck in finally seeing Radio Birdman.

This was part of the Electric City Rock Festival, the same “festival” that brought the Dirtbombs to the Double Door last year. Like that gig, this one featured too many opening bands, but it was a decent lineup this time. Lust Killers and Easy Action played fairly typical punk, but had good energy. SSM played a hybrid of punk and keyboard rock. I liked it, but I later heard one guy saying, “How can you have a rock band with a bass?” Well… it’s been done, dude.

SEE MY PHOTOS OF RADIO BIRDMAN, LUST KILLERS, EASY ACTION and SSM.

Tom Waits road trip

TOM WAITS
AUGUST 9, 2006
AUDITORIUM THEATRE, CHICAGO

I’m not in the habit of following around musicians or seeing concerts two nights in a row by the same band. But one of my regrets is seeing Tom Waits only once in 1999 – when he played two nights in a row at the Chicago Theatre. I mean, this guy (one of my all-time favorite singer-songwriters) doesn’t come around all that often. The last time he’d performed in Chicago before those shows was 1987. The concert I did see still sticks in my memory as one of the best live performances I’ve ever seen, even though I was stuck way up in the nosebleed balcony, peering down at the distant figure of Waits as he pounded his feet on a stomp box.

What a disappointment back in 2003 when Waits never got around to playing any U.S. shows during his tour for Real Gone. So when he announced he was playing a short tour with a peculiar itinerary – Atlanta, Asheville, Memphis, Nashville, Louisville, Chicago, Detroit and Akron – I jumped at the chance to see a few of these shows. Chicago, of course, but also Detroit and Akron. Despite some Ticketmaster snafus – and despite the fact that all of these concerts sold out within a few minutes – it wasn’t too hard to get tickets.

I had an excellent seat for the show at Chicago’s gorgeous, old Auditorium Theatre (thanks to the record label publicists), and my anticipation was running high as I waited for Waits. The most noticeable thing about the set-up on the stage was the array of megaphones, horns (bicycle horns?) and a cone-shaped gramophone speaker, neatly stacked in front of a percussion set. I counted eight of these various horns sitting there in the spotlight, enough for an emergency alert or political rally.

The lights went down, and then a very simple but effective bit of lighting created a dramatic, almost surreal entrance for the band. Lights at floor level cast high shadows of the musicians as they walked, one by one, through an opening in the curtain. With all of the musicians onstage except Waits, they began playing the opening chords of “Make It Rain.”

Then, finally, at last, another shadow appeared. A headless figure? A scarecrow? Frankenstein’s monster? There was Tom Waits, with his arms extended out and his hands making claw gestures, looking like tree branches. The applause went manic. And then he lifted his head at last – wearing a hat, of course. And the eerie shadow was complete.


(Photographed in Atlanta)

Waits emerged through the curtain and greeted us all with that same claw, both arms sticking out stiffly. Dressed in gray, except for a little dash of red in the brim of his hat, he looked lean and weathered. Like a character from one of his songs or stories, a guy who used to sleep under the el tracks and hold up liquor stores, a guy who’s found success but still dresses a little like the seedy figure he used to be. How much of Waits’ look – how much of his vocal style, his mannerisms, his jokes, his lyrics, his bizarre musical arrangements – how much of it is an act, a gimmick, shtick? The people who don’t “get” Waits look at it all as some weird act, but even if it is an act, it’s a brilliant one. And underneath all of that, there’s a lot of genius – heartfelt genius.

Even in the flesh and blood, Waits seemed supernatural. Twitchily gesturing, Waits looked as if every hoarse note emerging from his throat required maximum exertion – the cords in his neck and the muscles in his face bulged with strain. And what notes they were. Of course, skeptics will tell you that Waits can’t sing to save his life – or that his gravelly vocals are a gimmick. His singing is undoubtedly an acquired taste, but he once again showed that he’s a master at what he does, barking like a dog with a bad case of the blues and howling high notes like a forlorn feline. I’d forgotten just how physical of a performer Waits is. He really looked like he was giving it his all on the stage at the Auditorium Theatre. I started to worry this guy might collapse from exhaustion if he didn’t take a break.

I noticed at least three distinct vocal styles that Waits used, all three of them rough and bumpy, but each in its own distinct way.

First and foremost was that deep-throated holler, the gospel singer from hell, a little bit of Louis Armstrong and Captain Beefheart. This is the Tom Waits voice that a friend of mine once compared to Scooby-Doo. Ouch. I can see what she meant, but, hey, I love it.

The second voice is actually the more cartoony one – less booming, more constricted, that funny little grouchy voice Waits shifts into, sometimes with sudden and unexpected speed in the middle of a verse. It’s similar to his “talking” voice – assuming that he actually talks in real life the way he talks onstage.

And then there’s the falsetto, Waits’ secret weapon. Despite his reputation for singing deep notes, Waits can hit the high notes, too, with a strangled falsetto that’s as mournful and desperate as anything you’ve ever heard.

I expected to hear a fair amount of music from Waits’ last album, Real Gone, and sure enough, he opened with two of that record’s songs, “Make It Rain” and “Hoist That Rag.” The Auditorium Theatre concert would include six Real Gone tracks in all. It’s not my favorite Waits album by a long shot, though I do like it quite a bit, and the songs sounded strong in concert. For the most part, the live versions did not have as much clatter and noise as the studio recordings, which were based around Waits’ mouth percussion. Waits’ voice sounded powerful on “Make It Rain,” and “Trampled Rose” was magnificent with Waits’ repeating wordless whine blending into the band’s riff.

Stripped down a little bit, the Real Gone songs sounded more like blues songs. And juxtaposed with a few of Waits’ compositions of the 1970s – the period when his musical arrangements were not nearly as weird as those from Swordfishtrombones and later records – the songs didn’t sound all that radically different. Early songs played at this concert included “Till the Money Runs Out” (which began with a bit of Muddy Waters’ “Who’s Been Talking”) and “Whistlin’ Past the Graveyard.”

Waits’ band for this tour was good, maybe not quite as exciting as it could have been. His son, Casey, played drums well enough. Longtime Waits sideman Larry Taylor was great on the upright bass. Guitarist Duke Robillard was not as distinctive as, say, Marc Ribot, but his spiky blues solos fit the music well. And Bent Clausen, playing vibes, percussion and banjo, added most of the colors to the musical mix. My only complaint is I could have used a little more of those colors – a few of the unusual instruments that make cameos on Waits’ records. Calliope, anyone?

After “Hoist That Rag,” Waits played the Swordfishtrombones classic “Shore Leave.” The original was largely a spoken-word number, but Waits was really singing those lines with melody this time. The first of several lines at this concert referring to Illinois won applause from the Chicago crowd: “And I wondered how the same moon outside over this Chinatown fair could look down on Illinois and find you there.” The chorus – if you can call it that; it’s only two words, after all – brought out that trademark Waits falsetto.

Next came a couple of songs from Blood Money, “God’s Away on Business,” which had Waits cupping his hands around his mouth for that simulated megaphone sound, and the wistful “All the World Is Green,” in which he seemed to be shaking his entire head to create vibrato.

In between those tunes, he spoke at length for the first time all night, commenting on the disappearance of the Cows on Parade public art project since the last time he’d visited Chicago. “Here’s the deal,” he said. “What happened to the cows? Was there a board meeting I wasn’t informed about? … It’s business, it’s business, I know, but I like the cows.”

After “Falling Down” – a somewhat obscure track from the concert album Big Time – Waits went over to the piano. He played just two songs at the piano this night. I wanted more, but the two that we got were great. Typical of the way he starts off his piano sets, Waits doodled at the keyboard while telling some jokes and stories.

“When I first came to Chicago, I stayed at Belmont and Sheffield – under the el.” He said he stayed at the Wilbrandt Hotel. “The lady behind the counter was the mother of the Marlboro Man.” Waits noted the how disappointed he is when the colorful places he recalls from years ago have become generic and gentrified. “Now you say, ‘9th and Hennepin’ to someone in Minneapolis, and they say, ‘Oh, yeah, my wife got some sandals there.’ Sandals? I got shot there.” He reminisced about being caught in “the middle of a pimp war” between 11-year-old pimps – too young to use guns, they threw silverware at each other. “I know it sounds like I made that up, but it’s true.”

And with that, Waits plunked out the discordant chords of “Tango Till They’re Sore,” a lovely example of one of his “grand weepers.”

Before launching into another song, Waits said he’d been told to visit “a little joint on Clark Street” called Wiener Circle. “The great thing about it is you’ll be treated badly.” He said the woman at the hot dog joint called him “dick wad” and “shit bag” on his first visit, but was all nice and sweet when he returned the next day – so he had her fired.

Then came “Tom Traubert’s Blues,” an oldie, from 1976’s Small Change, another classic song, which almost brought tears to my eyes.

The piano was put away (with Waits miming as if he were pushing it), and back to the avant-garde blues. Casey Waits and Clausen grabbed microphones and acted as human beat boxes for “Eyeball Kid” – with Waits holding a big magnifying lens up to his face for part of the song. Waits finally got around to playing guitar for “Way Down in the Hole,” and then on “Don’t Go Into That Barn,” he used a megaphone for the first and only time. The crowd chanted along with the “Yes, sir” line in that song.

“What’s He Building in There” is one song from The Mule Variations that originally struck me as a little too stereotypical of Waits’ macabre spoken-word bits, but it comes alive in concert, with the emphasis changing from the mysterious neighbor to the narrator himself. And this performance of the song ended with a lovely bit of whistling from Waits.

“Murder in the Red Barn” was transformed into a fairly standard-sounding blues song for this tour, a little disappointing though it’s still a fine song. One of Waits’ last songs this night was a new one (slated to come out on the Orphans box set) called “Lie to Me.” It fit in well with theReal Gone tracks.

For his first encore, Waits played acoustic guitar for the first time all night, bringing a gentle touch to “Day After Tomorrow,” a song that closes Real Gone with lyrics about a soldier’s letter home. Applause broke out as Waits sang: “You can’t deny the other side don’t want to die anymore than we do. What I’m trying to say is, don’t they pray to the same god that we do? And tell me, how does God choose? Whose prayers does he refuse?”

Waits came back for one more encore, closing with the wistful “Time” on acoustic guitar. I was really, really glad to hear that one. It’s one of the songs that first got me interested in Waits, back when Rain Dogs was a new album. And then, even though the crowd made an unholy racket of clapping and foot stomping, Waits was really gone.

TOM WAITS
AUGUST 11, 2006
DETROIT OPERA HOUSE

It just seemed like a bus would be the appropriate mode of transportation for following Tom Waits was, so I booked trips to Detroit, Cleveland and Akron via Megabus and Greyhound, arriving in the Motor City without incident. Boy, downtown Detroit is really pretty quiet on a Friday afternoon. The only streets with any noticeable traffic were in front of the casino. Anyway, the Detroit Opera House was another lovely venue for Waits, with a similar grandeur to the Auditorium in Chicago where he’d played two nights earlier.

Was it worth seeing him again? Definitely. He played nine songs in Detroit that he hadn’t touched in Chicago. The crowd was even more boisterous, and there was more banter from Waits. When a few people were insistent about yelling out song requests, Waits told them to write down their measurements and hand them to the ushers. “I’m having hard-shell cases made, for each one of you,” he said. In response to one of the requests (I didn’t catch the song title), Waits demurred, saying “No, that’s old shit,” then noted that some old songs hold up well and others don’t.

For his piano interlude, he played “Christmas Card From a Hooker in Minneapolis” (when he started playing one of the verses he’d already done, he remarked, “We’ve already been through this material”), “Invitation to the Blues” and “House Where Nobody Lives.”

Waits made some surprising song choices, including “Lost at the Bottom of the World” and “It Rains on Me.” Though the latter song is hardly a familiar one, Waits got the crowd singing along with its chorus. At another point, he urged the crowd to stop clapping along to a song, since people weren’t really clapping to the beat.

He stopped the show with a true show-stopper, the Bone Machine track “Goin’ Out West,” with its boastful chorus: “I look good without a shirt on!”

TOM WAITS
AUGUST 13, 2006
AKRON CIVIC THEATRE

The Akron Civic Theatre looks like a small-town movie theater from the street, but looks are deceiving. That’s just the façade for the long entrance, which leads back to a beautiful and fairly large auditorium set back from the street. It’s ornate to the extreme, a little reminiscent of Chicago’s Music Box Theatre, though it has considerably more glitter. “Before it was a theater, it was a barbershop,” Waits said.

Waits’ set list at this concert was a combination of his repertoire from the last two concerts I’d seen, with just one new addition, “Clap Hands.”

He said he’d visited the Goodyear blimp factory because blimps had always appeared in the sky during major moments of his life. “The first time I robbed a gas station, a blimp went by. The first time I killed an endangered species, a blimp went by.” And he said he was staying at the Taft Hotel. He recommended staying at hotels named after presidents – but not at hotels named “Hotel President.” (Actually, I wonder if Waits was really staying at the Ritz-Carlton in Cleveland, since I happened to see Robillard walking into that hotel the night before.)

Waits told the story again about Wiener Circle, saying it was a restaurant at the last city where he’d been (actually, it was a couple of cities ago).

Although the stage had the same stack of megaphones, Waits never used them in Detroit or Akron.

Although Waits had scheduled another late-night concert the same night at the House of Blues in Cleveland (which I did not get a ticket for), he did not especially seem to be in a hurry to leave Akron, playing a concert of the same length as the Chicago and Detroit shows.

As I had suspected, the House of Blues show that I missed turned out to be the slightly more unusual one of the night, including 11 songs that I hadn’t heard in the previous three concerts. But I’m happy to report that I witnessed three excellent performances by this musical legend.

For more about these concerts, including audience comments, visit the excellent Waits fan bloghttp://eyeballkid.blogspot.com/

What, you’re probably asking, no photos from the Tom Waits concerts? Sorry, photography was not allowed at the three Waits concerts I saw, and rather than dealing with the hassle of trying to get a photo pass I decided to focus on the musical experience. The photos I have posted here are what I was able to find from other photographers at www.flickr.com. And that image at left is by Jesse Dylan from the sheet music book for Blood Money.

CHICAGO SET LIST
Make It Rain
Hoist That Rag
Shore Leave
God’s Away On Business
All the World Is Green
Falling Down
Tango Till They’re Sore
Tom Traubert’s Blues
Eyeball Kid
Down in the Hole
Don’t Go Into That Barn
Shake It
Trampled Rose
What’s He Building in There
Who’s Been Talking / Till The Money Runs Out
Murder in the Red Barn
Lie to Me
Get Behind the Mule
ENCORE 1
Day After Tomorrow
Singapore
ENCORE 2
Whistlin’ Past The Graveyard
Time

 

DETROIT SET LIST
Make It Rain
God’s Away on Business
Shore Leave
Way Down in the Hole
Dead and Lovely
Falling Down
Christmas Card From a Hooker in Minneapolis
Invitation to the Blues
House Where Nobody Lives
Eyeball Kid
Who’s Been Talking/’Till The Money Runs Out
Circus
Trampled Rose
Lost at the Bottom of the World
Sins of the Father
Shake It
ENCORE 1 
Murder in the Red Barn
Get Behind the Mule
It Rains on Me
ENCORE 2
Day After Tomorrow
Goin’ Out West

 

AKRON SET LIST
Make It Rain
Hoist That Rag
Shore Leave
Dead and Lovely
God’s Away on Business
Falling Down
Tango Til They’re Sore
Christmas Card From a Hooker in Minneapolis
Tom Traubert’s Blues
Til the Money Runs Out
Whats He Building in There
Eyeball Kid
Murder in the Red Barn
Trampled Rose
Lost at the Bottom of the World
Who’s Been Talking/’Till The Money Runs Out
Shake It
ENCORE 1
Day After Tomorrow
Lie To Me
Get Behind The Mule
ENCORE 2
Clap Hands
Sins Of The Father / Wade in the Water

 

CLEVELAND SET LIST
(according tohttp://eyeballkid.blogspot.com/)
Goin’ Out West
219 (My Baby’s Leaving on the)
Way Down in the Hole
November
\Blue Valentine
Big Black Mariah
On the Nickel
Cemetery Polka
\I Wish I Was in New Orleans
Johnsburg, Illinois
Metropolitan Glide
Heartattack and Vine / Spoonful
Make it Rain
Circus
Singapore
It Rains on Me
ENCORE 1 
Don’t Go Into that Barn
Ramblin’ Man
ENCORE 2 
Whistling Past the Graveyard
Buzz Fledderjohn

Lollapalooza 2006

PRE-LOLLAPALOOZA PARTY
AUGUST 3, 2006

GNARLS BARKLEY at the House of Blues — Thanks to an invite from someone at Spin magazine, I was lucky enough to get into this pre-Lollapalooza private gig by one of the festival’s most anticipated bands. Gnarls Barkley’s St. Elsewhere album is certainly one of the year’s best – and if you think it’s hip-hop, think again. These guys may have their roots in that genre, but they’re exploring other roots here. For its tour, the duo of Danger Mouse and Cee-Lo Green has been expanded into a 13-piece big band, including three backup singers and four string players.

For this gig, they come out dressed as a diner’s chefs, cooks, bus boys and waitresses. For their entrance music, the band plays Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like the Wolf.” A minute into the show, Cee-Lo cracks, “Any Gnarls Barkley fans here? Sorry, they couldn’t make it here tonight, so we’re going to cover some of their songs. We’re the Sam Cookes. Get it?”

The St. Elsewhere songs sound very good live (though the sound mix leaves the strings inaudible on all but a few tunes), and the band throws in an odd mix of covers. Of course, there’s the Violent Femmes’ “Gone Daddy Gone,” which is on the album, but the group also plays the Greenhorne’s “There’s an End” and the Doors’ “Who Scared You?” – neither of them a song that many people in the audience would recognize without help from Cee-Lo. He introduces both songs as examples of Gnarls Barkley’s broad taste in music.

His banter also includes some raunchy bits – like encouraging the women in attendance to bare their breasts. “If you feel the impulse to pull those titties out, do it.”

Hearing the hit “Crazy” being performed live at this show (with an intro on strings) is a spine-tingling moment. Yeah, I know I should be jaded by now by this kind of thing. How big of a deal is it really, to hear a band playing a hit song? But still… When you know it’s a great song, and you hear it live for the first time, and everyone in the room is really into it, it’s still such a cool experience. And with “Crazy,” the room goes crazy, people waving their arms in the air, one woman climbing on top of some guy’s shoulders. And the song, with Cee-Lo’s soulful falsetto, just soars.

Thank God this year’s Lollapalooza isn’t going to be as hot as last year’s, but it’s still time to slather on some sun block. I show up in time to catch only the last song by MIDLAKE. I liked the band’s first album a lot and have been meaning to check out the new one. The little bit that I hear sounds good.

On the other hand, just a few minutes of BLUE OCTOBER is enough to convince me that I should head to the other end of the park. Yuck.

I see most of the set by HUSKY RESCUE at one of the small stages, which have some nice shade. These Finns play some pleasant pop music. It didn’t wow me (other than the charming looks and sweet voice of singer Reeta Corhola), but I liked it enough that I’ll listen to more. Introducing the song “Summertime Cowboy,” Corhola remarks, “The whole purpose of this American tour is finding me a real cowboy.”

The descriptions of CURSIVE sounded interesting, and the fact that this band uses horns does make it a little more interesting than the typical pop-punk band of today. But I still didn’t find much about it that was engaging during the few songs I heard. So I took another long trek past Buckingham Fountain (at least the long walks across the Lollapalooza grounds were scenic) and listened to the last half of the set by AQUALUNG. Pretty enjoyable Brit-pop ballads.

EELS were up next on the Bud Light stage at the north end of the park. I’ve liked but not loved the two Eels albums I’ve heard (the last two), but they were pretty darn impressive – and odd – in concert. First comes this dude with a headband, Fu Manchu beard and a black T-shirt labeled “Security.” People cheer as he walks out – obviously familiar with the shtick that’s about to happen. He ain’t no security guard – he’s part of the show. Then comes the band, most of them wearing green fatigues, with lead singer e in pilot goggles. The first few songs rock pretty hard, then e switches to keyboards and let things get just a little more mellow. The security dude utters some bizarre non sequitors in a stern voice. “Are you enjoying this? My condolences. I have to go break one of my fingers now. I’ll be back in a minute.” Later, pointing at an audience member: “Is that cocktail sauce?!?” Upon orders from e, the guy goes into the crowd once to give people high-fives, then later to spray whip cream in their mouths. At least, that’s what I think it was. Eels closes with two passionately played covers: a dead-on version of Screaming Jay Hawkins’ “I Put a Spell On You,” and the Sinatra standard “That’s Life.”

I tried to get back to the south field in time for some photos of THE EDITORS, but by the time I got there, they’d already finished their third song and the photographers had been kicked out of the photo pit. (Like many concerts and festivals, Lollapalooza set a rule that the photographers can shoot only during the first three songs.) I stick around for about half of the performance. Seems OK, though the Editors obviously have a Joy Division fixation.

Back north for RYAN ADAMS. I’ve heard so much about his performances (the tirades and erratic shows), but never seen him before. Today, he and his band are definitely in a jamming mode. It occurs to me that he’s sounding a lot like the Grateful Dead – not being a Deadhead, I don’t realize that he’s actually doing three Dead covers. He also plays a nice version of “Hickory Wind,” and at least one Ryan Adams song that I recognize, “Cold Roses.” It’s a good show, though you have to wonder why he’d use this golden opportunity to showcase his music for a bunch of Dead cover tunes. Just another example of how mercurial he is, I guess. At one point, he goes on a rant about how Chicago doesn’t allow eggs to be served after 11 a.m. Huh? When he paused, his bassist made a remark about how the audience was there to hear his music, and Adams quipped, “Trust me – they’re not hear to here the music. They’re hear to see the freakout.” Just then, he noticed a helicopter in the sky and said, “Aw shit – the egg police!” Finally, launching into a song, he said, “Phew! That one’s over. That last bit, that wasn’t a song. It was just me making an ass of myself.”

I heard only a few songs by IRON & WINE, which sounded nice. I like Iron & Wine’s records, but the unremitting mellowness of it all gets to me after a while. With a band, the songs seemed a little more lively. And it is undoubtedly cool to see a large group of fans getting into a performance of such delicate music. Unfortunately, the setup at Lollapalooza this year, while not as prone to sound bleed as last year’s, did have some problems. The stage where Iron & Wine was playing (the Adidas-Champs stage, better known the rest of the year as the Petrillo Bandshell) was too close to the Playstation Stage, and several quiet acts were booked next to louder acts. In the case of Iron & Wine, noise from Lady Sovereign intruded on his soft folk.

I decided to head early to THE RACONTEURS, knowing that the photo pit will be jammed with photographers. It is fun getting an up-close look at the performers, but sometimes, there are just too many people in these pits, all angling for the best spot and struggling to get shots around the video camera handlers and the high stages. Sure enough, the Raconteurs pit is a madhouse. The band appears to be having a lot of fun onstage, like their old pals goofing around. At one point, Jack White and Brendan Benson push each other just after singing together into the same mike. Now, I wish I had been able to stick around for more of this concert (I end up missing the Raconteurs playing a cover of Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy”), but I’ve got to get in place for the Sleater-Kinney show back on the north end of the park. As I walk north, I can hear the sound of MY MORNING JACKET booming all the way across Buckingham Fountain. They sound as great as always, and I wouldn’t have missed seeing them – except for the fact that I’d seen them recently and they were up against the Raconteurs.

SLEATER-KINNEY was one of the bands I was anticipating the most at Lollapalooza. I really got into this group after their last album, The Woods, came out, though I had liked them before. I saw them for the first time in 2005, and this was my fourth Sleater-Kinney concert. I was crestfallen when I heard recently that the trio was going on “indefinite hiatus.” I do hope that just means they’re taking some time off and will be back, but this Lollapalooza gig might end up being one of their last. While My Morning Jacket is still playing at the other end of the field, the gals of Sleater-Kinney come out for a few minutes to do a sound check, and the photographers snap a few pictures. I overhear one photog saying, “I’ve got what I need. What difference will it make when they come out? They’ll just have the lights on them, and they’re just going to stand there. I’ve already got photos of that. Let’s go see the Violent Femmes. Maybe they’ll do ‘Blister in the Sun.’” I tell him that Sleater-Kinney isn’t just going to stand there, but he doesn’t sound convinced. Whatever…

The performance is strong, though maybe not quite as raucous as Sleater-Kinney’s SXSW gig earlier this year. Maybe I’m feeling my own bittersweet feelings about seeing the band for what may be the last time, but I sense more emotion on the stage than usual. Especially with Corin Tucker, who looks at times like she is going to start crying as she hits some of the high notes. She always has a little bit of that look in her, but I sense it more tonight. There’s one strange moment when Tucker points (maybe at a sound man, maybe at Carrie Brownstein, and exchanges what looks like some testy words off-mike), but then she seems like she’s her old self after that. After playing blistering versions of most tracks from The Woods, Sleater-Kinney closes with “Turn It On.”

The rest of the night’s anti-climatic. I stick around Butler Field long enough to hear several songs by DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE. I realize I’ve been a little too harsh on this band since seeing them at last year’s Lollapalooza. Their music is actually all right. I just feel like it’s overrated, or that they’re getting more than their share of popularity compared to other indie-rock bands. But I do enjoy hearing their tunes tonight. Then I catch the last half of WEEN. I have to admit I don’t know much about this band, other than by reputation. What I hear is interesting and quirky.

SEE PHOTOS OF HUSKY RESCUE, CURSIVE, EELS, RYAN ADAMS, IRON & WINE, THE RACONTEURS & SLEATER-KINNEY.

I’m not even sure who the winner of the “Last Band Standing” contest is, but it’s sort of amusing to see them playing in front of a big empty field at 11:45 a.m. and exhorting a few hundred people: “Come on, Lollapalooza, make some noise!”

The early bands today include RAINER MARIA, playing solid and tuneful rock, and LIVING THINGS, very stylish guys with rock-star attitude playing decent but not especially original glam-garage-rock. (They’re one of the two bands that I see Perry Farrell introduce as his “favorite new band” – the other being Gnarls Barkley.) I overhear the woman in BE YOUR OWN PET telling the audience, “I just threw up … It tasted like watermelon.”

THE GO! TEAM puts on a fabulous show in the early afternoon, with the singer Ninja putting on an amazing display of cheerleading-style calisthenics in the 90-degree sun. They’re just as fun as I remember them being last year at Metro, and a few non-album songs sound good. My only regret right now is missing the show by FEIST at the other end of the park.

BUILT TO SPILL makes great albums, with guitar licks that seem almost like architectural structures, with one riff piled perfectly on top of another. The one time I saw Built to Spill in concert (a few years back at Metro), I was a little disappointed. It was OK, but the band seemed a little listless. Maybe it was just my visual perception of the group, because I could see again today that Built to Spill isn’t all that exciting to watch. The music was excellent, though, and Doug Martsch was a little more animated than the rest of the guys. With his gray-streaked beard, he’s looking pretty old. Overall, they look like a bunch of grizzled mountain men. The band makes some cracks about all of the corporate sponsorship on display at Lollapalooza, with Martsch saying, “We would still be playing music even if Bud Light hadn’t brought us here.” Someone in the crowd shouts back, “You wouldn’t get a paycheck!”

CALEXICO is another reliable band, and they put on exactly the sort of show I’ve come to expect. A nice surprise is Nicolai Dunger coming out for guest vocals on the Love song “Alone Again Or,” which Calexico dedicates to the late Arthur Lee.

On the way south, I overhear a couple songs by WOLFMOTHER – a group whose appeal escapes me. Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath retreads, as far as I can tell. Too much Spinal Tap for my tastes.

Though I’d love to see SONIC YOUTH, I go to GNARLS BARKLEY – yeah, I’d just seen them on Thursday, but I am covering Lollapalooza for some newspapers, and I figure Gnarls has more news value. Staying true to their vow to wear different costumes each time they perform, they’re dressed this time as tennis players. The set list and Cee-Lo’s banter are pretty similar to the House of Blues show. Being farther back for most of the show, I don’t find it quite as enthralling as Gnarls’ club performance, but it’s still pretty great. They should save “Crazy” for their last song, but sticking it 15 minutes before the end of the set, they send a multitude of fans streaming the other direction.

I’d never seen THE SMOKING POPES back in the day, so it was cool to see the reunited band playing its tuneful pop-punk here. A couple of new songs, which will be on a forthcoming album, sounded strong, very similar to the classic Popes music.

THE FLAMING LIPS turn out to be the highlight of the festival for me. This is in spite of the fact that I was disappointed by the previous two Lips concerts I’d seen, and I’m not a huge fan of the Lips’ new album. Sometimes, the group’s circus-like spectacle seems like too much of a gimmick, but fun gimmickry fit in perfectly with the festival atmosphere here. With gals in green alien masks and guys in Santa Claus suits cavorting on the stage, singer Wayne Coyne inserted himself into a large plastic bubble and walked out on top of the audience. (Beforehand, he’d asked the audience to pretend that he’d descended from the sky and that they hadn’t just seen him getting into the balloon on stage. “I apologize in advance if I step on your head.”) Returning to the stage and firing off confetti, Coyne urged the gathered Lips fans to sing loud enough to stop traffic on Lake Shore Drive, hoping the noise might somehow bring peace to the Middle East. “I wish singing could stop people from killing each other,” he remarked. The sing-along may not have achieved peace, but it did create a surreal spectacle: tens of thousands of people waving their arms and singing along to “She Don’t Use Jelly.” Maybe it was my vantage point up front – seeing the antics of the first three songs unfolding right above my head was amazing – but it all seemed so joyous that I couldn’t help smiling. Oddly, I see that some of the other critics in attendance (Greg Kot of The Chicago Tribune and Jon Pareles of The New York Times were underwhelmed by the Lips’ performance). A short while later, I overheard a guy on a cell phone telling a friend, “The Flaming Lips were out of control!” That guy was right.

THE NEW PORNOGRAPHERS are an excellent band, but I’ve seen them twice recently, so I didn’t make a special effort to see them, other than hearing them on the way to KANYE WEST. Although I think West is overrated, I did get somewhat excited about seeing him, especially after giving another listen this morning to Late Registration and remembering how many interesting tracks it has. As a mini-orchestra of female string players, wearing masks over their eyes slinky black dresses, took the stage amid puffs of fog, the crowd was eager for West to make a dramatic entrance. Unfortunately, when he arrived and launched into his rapping, it was barely audible to the fans standing any distance from the stage, and some audience members chanted, “Turn it up!” Apparently trying to correct the problem, West left the stage for three momentum-killing silences between songs. I heard people yelling, “Come on!” and “What’s going on?” West eventually went on a tirade about how terrible the sound was at his hometown gig, threatening that “Changes will be made.” (Huh?)

Whenever West finally got around to playing his songs, it sounded strong and the crowd really got into it. But the show itself lacked the quick pacing necessary for a good concert. Too many speeches, not enough music. All that being said, I could see this was a special moment for many of the fans. Lupe Fiasco, Common and Twista all made guest appearances. And I started to get really sick of hearing musicians saying, “Chi-Town! Make some noise!”

SEE PHOTOS OF RAINER MARIA, THE LIVING THINGS, THE GO! TEAM, BUILT TO SPILL, CALEXICO, GNARLS BARKLEY, THE SMOKING POPES, THE FLAMING LIPS & KANYE WEST.

I’d seen an announcement at the media tent that PATTI SMITH would be making a “surprise” appearance today at 12:45 p.m. at the Kidzaplooza area. (!) So I showed up in time for that, catching PERRY FARRELL & PETER DI STEFANO performing several songs for the kids. Then Smith came out, noting that she was born in Chicago. “My dad’s name was Grant, and he used to tell me he owned Grant Park. So, Daddy, here I am in Grant Park.” But Smith seemed ill-prepared. In an awkward moment, she began playing her song “Grateful,” but only after a few false starts and forgotten chords. “That just goes to show you that any asshole can play guitar,” she said, oblivious or uncaring about the fact that she was supposedly playing to an audience of kids. (Actually, the adults seemed to outnumber the tykes.) For her third and last song, Smith played “Qana,” which she said she’d just written the day before about the Israeli attack on the Lebanon village of Qana. The dirge-like song – a moving protest piece, even though it sounds a little too much like any number of other Patti Smith tunes – includes the repeated line, “The dead lay in strange shapes.” Smith told the crowd, “While we are celebrating our children, think how we would feel if 27 of them were blown away by bombs.” I wonder if any of the children at the Kidzapalooza stage asked their parents later, “Who was that scary lady?” (“Qana” can be downloaded here.)

THE HOLD STEADY were as great as usual, stoking my anticipation of their new record, coming out in October. “This is easily the most fun we’ve ever had before 3 in the afternoon,” singer Craig Finn said.

NICKEL CREEK has struck me as a little bland in the past, but the bluegrass trio definitely has virtuosity to spare. They performed a nice set on the north end of the park, with the nearby trees creating the perfect pastoral setting. They played covers of Radiohead’s “Nice Dream” and Britney Spears’ “Toxic.” As the group noted, this may have been a Lollapalooza first – three consecutive acts featuring fiddle (THE FRAMES preceded Nickel Creek, and ANDREW BIRD followed).

Bird was as impressive as always, and it was interesting to hear several songs from his forthcoming album. Unfortunately, the sound sucked, with way too much bass.

THE SHINS were next. When did these guys become such stars? I guess it’s because their music was on “The OC” or something, but jeez, I remember hearing about the first Shins album, Oh, Inverted World, when it was a pretty darn obscure indie album few people knew about. These guys deserve all the adoration. Their songs are smartly constructed and incredibly catchy. The band played a few new tracks from the third album, which they’re still working on, and they sounded very promising, with a little bit of Byrds guitar in one of the songs. Glenn Mercer is looking a lot like Kevin Spacey now that he’s shaved his beard. For some reason, they were all wearing military-style green shirts. As one of them explained, “We’re wearing these shirts because we like them. They’re green and uncomfortable.” (Someone else mentioned to me later that the sound at the Shins was too low and people in the back couldn’t hear, but from what I experienced, it sounded fine near the front and back in the middle of the field.)

WILCO and QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE were playing in the same time slot. And while I’ve really seen Wilco plenty of times and would have personally preferred checking out QOTSA for a change, seeing the hometown band seemed like the thing to do. It wasn’t the best Wilco performance I’ve ever seen – it seemed like Wilco toned down the stranger or more extreme parts of its repertoire for the festival audience – it was still quite good. The set included four new songs. The guitar solo on “Impossible Germany” was really, really good, and I liked the chunky riff in “Let’s Fight.” Jeff Tweedy is looking pretty hirsute these days, and his straw hat made him look like a character from the 19th century. Seeing the big crowd singing along with “Jesus etc.” was one of those nice “we are the world” moments.

BROKEN SOCIAL SCENE was a lot more fun on stage than on record, with members of the big collective coming and going. For most bands, the following statement would be no big deal: “We’ve got the whole band for you tonight – the whole band.” But for Broken Social Scene, getting everyone together is something of an accomplishment. The show gave me a chance to see at least a little bit of Feist. This band had an enviable time slot, playing at the north end of Hutchinson Field as tens of thousands of RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS fans filed in. I hope some of the people unfamiliar with Broken Social Scene’s music took notice.

I’m not a big fan of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, so I wasn’t especially looking forward to their performance, but I was duly impressed with their musicianship and energy. And the weird covers or snippets of covers: the Clash’s “London Calling,” Neil Young’s “The Needle and the Damage Done” and Simon and Garfunkel’s “For Emily, Wherever I May Find Her.”

While I certainly don’t agree with Perry Farrell’s introduction of the Peppers as “the greatest band on the planet today,” I also think Jim DeRogatis of the Sun-Times was a little harsh on them, calling them “boneheads.” They did seem to inspire boneheaded behavior in the audience, though, as people pushed and shoved their way forward. I did not get there in time for a spot in the crowded photo pit, and I ended up watching most of the concert from the media tent up on a nearby hill. From there, I could see an almost constant stream of fans being escorted out, either because they’re jumped over the barricade or been pushed.

It was an unpleasant way to end a pleasant festival. So what was Lollapalooza all about this year? It wasn’t as cutting-edge as the Intonation and Pitchfork fests, and it’s questionable how much of the music qualifies as “alternative.” Alternative to most mainstream pop, yes. But Kanye West and the Red Hot Chili Peppers are too popular to truly count as alternative. Some of the schedule conflicts were maddening, and it was a long walk from one end of the park to the other. But as long as you didn’t get hung up on having to see everything, it was a damn nice time with some fine musical performances.

SEE PHOTOS OF PATTI SMITH, THE HOLD STEADY, NICKEL CREEK, ANDREW BIRD, THE SHINS, WILCO & BROKEN SOCIAL SCENE.

2006 Pitchfork Music Fest

I reviewed the Pitchfork Music Festival for Pioneer Press Newspapers. That review has expired from the newspaper’s web page, so now I append it here to the blog…

Even though they’re underground musical legends, the Silver Jews and Os Mutantes are not exactly household names. If they were touring on their own, these bands could fill a decent-sized nightclub in Chicago but they’d never draw anything close to 18,000 fans.

But package these cult favorites together with some 40 other critically praised bands, and what do you get? A park jam-packed with young people grooving to glorious but commercially obscure music. The Pitchfork Music Festival in Union Park, organized by the Chicago-based music Web site www.pitchforkmedia.com, presented a true alternative to mainstream music – it was even an alternative to the more commercial “alternative rock” that will be on display this coming weekend at Lollapalooza. Temperatures in the upper 90s turned the festival into a heat-survival ordeal, and at times, areas of the park were uncomfortably crowded. (Pitchfork founder Ryan Schreiber said the park’s official capacity was increased to 18,000 from the 15,000-person limit used for last year’s Intonation Music Festival.) Despite that, the mood in the park was festive, and the excitement of musical discovery was in the air.

On Saturday, Band of Horses – a band growing in popularity on the strength of its soaring debut album, “Everything All the Time” – sounded more assured and assertive than it did back in March at the South By Southwest Music Conference. The only thing the band needs now is another batch of excellent songs. The heat might have diminished the liveliness of some performers, including Art Brut, but these British punk-rockers were still highly entertaining and humorous. Lead singer Eddie Argos said he’d gotten his haircut at a nearby Polish barbershop, and it was “the most Britpop haircut I’ve ever had.” The Walkmen performed one of the strongest sets of the whole festival, using unusual arrangements – two pianos and lots of shaken percussion instruments – to transform their songs into powerful anthems. Lead singer Hamilton Leithauser’s voice was hoarse and strained with emotion, and his shirt was dark with sweat by the end of the set.

Other acts Saturday included the Mountain Goats, whose precious lyrics didn’t come off any better in concert than they do on record; and another precious band, Destroyer, which elevated its songs somewhat in a rousing finale. Ted Leo and the Pharmacists and the Futureheads both played enjoyable sets, though both of those bands need to find a way to bring more variety to their music. The headliner Saturday night was the Silver Jews, who were playing in Chicago for only the second time. Leader David Berman may have spent years without touring to support his records, but he sounded confident, and the songs received triumphant applause.

On Sunday, the smaller Biz 3 stage (located in a tent away from the main two stages) featured two members of Wilco demonstrating the range of their talents. Guitarist Nels Cline played jazz with Jeff Parker, and percussionist Glenn Kotche coaxed some strange and wonderful noises out of his drum kit. The “freak folk” scene was represented by Danielson, playing giddily weird sing-along numbers in odd, blue uniforms, and Devendra Banhardt, whose quivering voice seemed less annoying in concert than it does on album.

Liars played the most abrasive and loudest music of the fest, but some old-time punk rockers showed them the real way to make noise – Mission of Burma buzzed through a superb collection of songs both old and new. Another veteran band, Yo La Tengo, offered a preview of its new album, songs that were not quite as mellow as the tunes on its previous two records. The only flaw of the Yo La Tengo set was that it should have gone on for an additional hour.

Two newer bands, the National and Spoon, played solid sets that showed why they’ve grown in popularity in recent years. The National upped the intensity of its studio recordings, and Spoon boiled its tunes down to concise grooves. By the time Os Mutantes played the final set on Sunday night, it was likely that many of the people in the crowd had never heard a note by this reunited 1960s Brazilian psychedelic band. That didn’t stop the crowd from dancing and clapping to Os Mutantes’ trippy flower-power tunes, though.

The emcee for the Pitchfork Fest, Hideout co-owner Tim Tuten, enthusiastically expounded on the power of music. By the end of the festival, some of the audience members were asking to have their photos taken with Tuten. “That’s the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me,” Tuten said.

See my photos from day one of the festival.
See my photos from day two of the festival.

Play review: The Unmentionables


STEPPENWOLF THEATRE, CHICAGO

Playwright Bruce Norris certainly knows how to push our buttons. The Norris play that the Steppenwolf premiered last year around this time, “The Pain and the Itch,” has really stuck in my mind. I think Norris may have pushed things too far with the use of child actresses in a play that discussed some disturbing topics including abuse. (The producers said the children were shielded from that, but it still made you feel queasy.) In any case, it was undeniably a work of disturbing power.

His new play, “The Unmentionables,” also disturbs. Without giving away too much, I’ll say that the audience eventually finds itself hearing some very unsettling offstage violence.

I was not entirely convinced by the reality of the play’s African setting (it’s one of those stories set in an anonymous country), but I think Norris got the essential details right, as far as the odd version multinational-corporate colonialism and corruption that seems to be endemic in Africa these days. (I’m no expert, but just watch the movie “Darwin’s Nightmare” for a real-life version of what Norris is referring to here…)

In these last two plays, Norris seems to be passing moral judgments on his characters, especially scorning white upper-class Americans. But he doesn’t cast good and evil in simple black-and-white terms. Just about everyone in this story, from the Christian do-gooders and the rich executives to the local black politicians, is compromised in some way by the end.

Amy Morton gives a brilliantly entertaining performance as the gabby Nancy – a character that initially seems a little too cartoony, but eventually comes to seem pretty real, even if she is ludicrous.

“The Unmentionables” is also notable for the way it breaks down the wall between the audience and the actors. Jon Hill, playing a young African man who comes under suspicion for crimes, abruptly begins the play by speaking directly the audience and warning that the play isn’t any good. He suggests going home to watch TV instead. The play ends with a similar monologue by Hill’s character, Etienne.

Is Norris trying to undercut the worth of his own play? Actually, these little monologues by Etienne reinforce one of the points that Norris seems to be making, that we need to listen to people like Etienne rather than lecturing them. So is “The Unmentionables” a lecture of the very sort Norris is criticizing … or a plea for an end to such lectures? That paradox may be part of Norris’ intentions.

In any case, I think “The Unmentionables” is another significant play by Norris, and one that’s well worth seeing.

Lemonade Joe: DVD review

Spaghetti Westerns are one thing, but a lemonade Western … filmed in Czech? This 1964 oddity by director Oldrich Lipsky, released recently on DVD by Chicago’s Facets, is a precursor to “Blazing Saddles” – filmed on the other side of the Iron Curtain, but set in Stetson City, Ariz. The title character is a sickeningly wholesome sharpshooter and teetotaler who dresses all in white. Just as Popeye derives his strength from spinach, Joe claims that “Kolaloka” lemonade gives him the best aim and fastest draw in town. He’s battling with the town’s whisky-swigging crowd, who are led by a mysterious bad guy known as “Hogofogo.” If that weren’t strange enough, the film includes several songs that mimic the music from American cowboy movies, but with a distinctly Eastern European accent. It’s all very silly, sometimes too much so, and at times, it gets downright surreal. Not a great film, but one that’s worth seeing just for the sheer novelty

Wilco and Andrew Bird at Summerfest

JULY 5, 2006
SUMMERFEST, MILWAUKEE

This was my first time at Milwaukee’s famous Summerfest. Seems like a nice festival, and they certainly book a lot more music than the typical summer fest. That means the festival invariably has some noteworthy acts, like this night’s double bill of Wilco and Andrew Bird, as well as a fair amount of shlock. How weird that Wilco was playing on one stage tonight, while Nickelback and Foreigner were playing elsewhere in the park.

And the band playing before Andrew Bird and Wilco was an incredibly annoying cover band called Sweet Tarts. Bad enough that I nearly ran from the venue with hands over my ears. Another band playing a short distance away, the Yonder Mountain String Band, would have been a much better fit with the Bird/Wilco lineup. These guys had a big audience dancing to their bluegrass picking, with a nice encore of “Goodbye Blue Sky.” (Now that “The Wall” has been covered in its entirety by Luther Wright & the Wrongs, is Pink Floyd becoming standard fodder for bluegrass bands? How odd.)

First, a note about the venue. While Summerfest is a fine place to hang out and get some beer and carnival food, it’s not exactly the smartest set up for watching a concert. The Miller Lite venue where Andrew Bird and Wilco were playing has long metal bleacher benches set up on the pavement in front of the stage, without any aisles – the only entrances being on either end of the long rows. That made it all but impossible to get close to the stage by the time I tried. And then everyone stood up on the benches as Bird started playing. I don’t know, but standing on a narrow metal bench isn’t my idea of how I want to spend a few hours during a concert, so I moved farther back. I found myself feeling a little misanthropic, an impulse I have to hold in check, as I was surrounded mostly by high school and college-age kids. Actually, it’s rather encouraging that young people are excited and interested in Wilco. I’ve heard a number of teens talk about Wilco as if it were some great musical secret they’d discovered. Still, when you’re standing in the middle of a bunch of teens, it starts to feel like being trapped at a prom, where the girls squeal and point at boys. Not my crowd, I guess…

I did eventually find some good vantage points, standing farther back and contenting myself to watch the concerts on the video screens.

Andrew Bird was as amazing as ever, creating some incredible pop symphonies with his looping pedals. He played a few new songs, which sounded pretty good on first listen – nothing seemed like a radical departure from the music on his last album, The Mysterious Production of Eggs. I always wonder how well Bird’s precious music (and I mean precious in the best sense of the term) will go over with a big festival crowd, but this audience seemed to be appreciative – and I heard a few people shouting out requests for specific songs, so he obviously has a growing fan base.

Wilco put on a good show, not the best Wilco concert I’ve ever seen by a long shot, but probably the right sort of performance for a place like Summerfest. Jeff Tweedy was pretty talkative, trying to get the crowd to chant the names of various band members at different points of the night. And the band offered up a good sample of songs from its last two albums, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and A Ghost is Born, plus a few oldies. Two new songs were played. One of the them sounded just OK to me as Tweedy was singing the first part, but when Nels Cline’s guitar solo came in, the song really picked up. Tweedy mentioned another new song called “Let’s Fight,” which the group was not ready to play in concert yet; he jokingly suggested that this Summerfest audience should reassemble at another time to sing that song’s chorus like a soccer chant. We’d all have to join the musicians union, though, he pointed out. “Misunderstood” sounded great – I counted 56 calls of “Nothing!” this time. I wonder how fans would react if Wilco played this song and just did a couple of “Nothings”?  In the final encore, “A Shot in the Arm” segued into the electronic notes of “Spiders (kidsmoke).” As usual, that song sounded fantastic, with the audience going wild whenever that descending chord progression kicks in.

My Morning Jacket and Ray Davies at Taste of Chicago

JULY 4, 2006
TASTE OF CHICAGO, GRANT PARK

Just another concert by the world’s greatest rock band… Well, at least, one of the greatest. Jim James and company were in fine form, with some nice song choices (stuff from At Dawn that they haven’t played so much in recent years) and Andrew Bird joining MMJ onstage with his violin on a few songs. Now that they’ve played to hordes at Bonaroo and the throngs at Taste of Chicago, I sure hope they’re winning a lot of new fans.

Ray Davies was the headliner, and unfortunately, the security people running the Taste seemed unaware of the fact that a lot of MMJ fans left before Davies started. The result: empty seats. Meanwhile, people were lined up, wanting to get in. Without the seats as full as they should have been, the reception for Davies initially seemed a little muted. I enjoyed this performance, but not as much as Davies’ show this spring at the Vic. Maybe the longer format of the Vic concert just gave him more time to throw in more Kinks songs, including more obscurities. The songs from Davies’ solo record sounded OK, but they weren’t nearly as thrilling as “I’m Not Like Everybody Else.” The crowd stuck around for a while after Davies did his “You Really Got Me” encore, hoping maybe for a second encore and “Lola.” But it was not to be.

The first act of the afternoon was Mike Doughty, the former Soul Coughing lead singer. Now, this is someone I’ve been hearing about for years without ever paying much attention to the music. I wasn’t impressed. Too Dave Matthews-y for my tastes, though I’ve heard worse.

One of the highlights of this whole afternoon was watching the sign-language chicks standing at the side of the stage, offering their sign-language interpretations of the lyrics – at least, the lyrics that they knew or could make out. They also did a lot of air guitar and drumming motions when the bands weren’t singing. They were cute, and frequently grinning as if they realized how silly the whole thing might appear.

Chris Mills plays acoustic at Schubas

I was a little doubtful about how thrilling a solo acoustic concert by Chris Mills would be at the end of the night (such shows usually seem more engaging earlier in the evening, for me at least), but he proved his mettle with a very enjoyable set tonight. It was nice to hear his recent songs in this bare-bones format, with all of those horns and strings stripped away (not that there’s enough wrong with those grandiose arrangments). A few of the audience members were rather annoying with their loud comments, though it did turn amusing when the banter prolonged Mills’ attempt to start playing his final song of the night, finally compelling him to remark that he was in desperate need of a trip to the bathroom. After the show, I picked up a tour-only CD of outtakes from Mills’ last record, The Wall to Wall Sessions. (I haven’t had a chance to listen to it yet…)

SEE PHOTOS OF CHRIS MILLS.

The opening act was a trio from Detroit called I, Crime. They sounded pretty good, with a combination of alt-country, old-style rock and punk. A milder version of X, perhaps? The songs did not leave that much of an impression on me, but I would see them again.

SEE PHOTOS OF I, CRIME.

Amadou & Mariam and Seu Jorge at Millennium Park

I knew Millennium Park was a beautiful place (yeah, even with all of the stuff crammed into it and the slight tinge of amusement park…) but I’d never seen a concert there before. What a great place to see live music on a nice summer night. The free general admission seating worked out great. Even though it was crowded and I showed up just a few minutes before starting time, I walked into the pavilion and easily found a seat in the second row right in front of the stage. Frank Gehry’s architecture created an interesting backdrop for the music.

All of that being said, the security at the concert venue was ridiculous. These spoil-sports vainly tried to enforce a rule against dancing in the pavilion (it’s apparently allowed out on the lawn, but not in the area closest to the stage). Maybe that rule makes sense for the many classical concerts held here, but with Seu Jorge and his percussionists going at it wildly – and then with Amadou & Mariam getting into African grooves – the dancing was unstoppable. Even at the end, the ushers were trying to keep people from dancing in the few feet of space right in front of the stage.

Anyway, both acts were fabulous. I had some trouble really getting into Seu Jorge’s 2005 album Cru after being wowed by his concert last year at Logan Square Auditorium. It’s a fine record, but not nearly as exciting as his live show. Tonight’s concert verified my impression from last year – that he’s a vibrant performer with a rich voice. I love the way his voice creaks its way around the lower notes. And his band, mostly percussionists who switch off on playing ukelele, knows how to get an infectious beat going. Jorge of course played a couple of the David Bowie covers that he has become known for. I hope he tries something similar with songs by other artists.

SEE PHOTOS OF SEU JORGE.

Last year, I saw Seu Jorge and Amadou & Mariam on consecutive days at the Chicago World Music Festival, so it was a real pleasure to see both acts on the same bill this time. Amadou & Mariam were marvelous – with Mariam’s voice in fine form, and Amadou’s guitar solos sounding as good as ever. It took a few songs for the crowd to get back into the dancing spirit (everyone might have been a little worn out by Seu Jorge), but then the dancing resumed.

SEE PHOTOS OF AMADOU & MARIAM.

Intonation Fest 2006

SEE MORE PHOTOS FROM INTONATION FEST DAY 1.

If you stepped back a bit from the stages this weekend at the Intonation Music Festival in Chicago and watched the crowd, it was a little like witnessing a social-science experiment in progress.

The festival in Union Park almost seemed designed to answer these questions: Who will show up if you schedule hip-hop rappers right next to heavy-metal headbangers? And what will fans of teen-friendly indie-pop music like the Stills make of experimental Japanese noise music by the Boredoms?

As the Intonation Fest set a new standard for eclectic programming, it did seem at times like the crowd was baffled by the sudden shifts in musical style. And although programmers hoped the hip-hop acts would attract a more racially diverse crowd, the Intonation audience turned out to be the mostly young and mostly white audience that shows up at most indie-rock concerts – with a slightly higher percentage of African-Americans, at least during the sets by Ghostface and Dead Prez.

There was some head scratching out on the lawn, especially when the Boredoms were drumming nonstop for 45 minutes with incoherent screaming as the only vocals – a great performance, but one that must have seemed strange for those unfamiliar with the group.

But by the time the festival wrapped up Sunday night, it was hard not to feel good about this show of musical diversity. Maybe everyone didn’t get everything, but enough people with open minds discovered new music to make Intonation a success.

ERASE ERRATA – I arrived early Saturday, just in time to hear this all-female San Francisco trio play its jagged art-punk. Sort of reminded me of the B-52s, but less shticky. In the first of many marijuana references I would hear during the festival (not to mention the ever-present odor), the singer remarked, “If any of you guys have any grass, I’ll be, like, waiting around out here.”

90 DAY MEN – I missed these guys during their first go-around, so it’s nice to get a chance to hear them play again. They’re introduced as “the freakiest band in Chicago.” I’m not sure who really deserves that title, probably not 90 Day Men, but the group’s music proves to be fairly interesting art rock, with a lot of Nord Electro keyboard. I jot the following thought in my notepad: “Punk rock reacted against Pink Floyd in the late ’70s and gradually became … Pink Floyd.”

DEVIN THE DUDE – This Houston hip-hop guy’s music wasn’t bad, but his crude sexual come-ons were just annoying after a while. I’m not sure the mostly white indie-rock crowd was really the right audience for songs about wanting to stick his dick into any available orifice. “There’s got to be a few horny women out there,” he said at one point, trying to get the crowd more interested. And after his DJ made sounds ejaculation-simulating sound effects, Devin said, “All you fellows out there excuse me for just a minute. I’ve got to do something for the ladies now.” He then did a short bit of the James Taylor song “I’m Your Handyman” (OK, that was sort of funny) before lapsing back into the songs about his dick.

JOSE GONZALEZ – In one of the most shocking contrasts of the fest, the next act was the Argentine/Swedish singer-guitarist Jose Gonzalez, the quietest and gentlest performer of the whole weekend. His technique on the guitar is impressive, as are his soft vocals. Sounds like Nick Drake, though one wonders if his music springs just as much out of Argentine or classical guitar traditions.

CHROMEO – More shtick, this time funk shtick. One of the guys in this band spent most of the show with a tube in his mouth, making that robotic Vocoder sound. That’s entertaining for all of about 5 seconds. During a short technical breakdown, one of the Chromeo guys tried to keep the crowd entertained with some banter, but his dance-related jokes went over the heads of most people there (me included). “I guess indie kids don’t juke that much. You do this,” he said, pumping his fist in the air lamely. Later, Chromeo did an abbreviated cover of that awful song by the Outfield, “Your Love,” with the singer commenting, “I did it because I felt like it.” And at the end of its set, Chromeo’s guys complimented the crowd for being so “gangsta.” “Chicago’s a gangsta town.”

HIGH ON FIRE – I expected this band to play stoner rock, but it really sounded more like heavy metal to me. The distinction might get lost on some people, and I’m not always sure I can tell the difference. The music was loud and intense. Not really my kind of thing, but High on Fire seemed to be pretty good at what it does. Like just about every other band, High on Fire made some remarks designed to win applause from the Windy City audience: “I know this is a bit of a metal town.”

THE STILLS – The new album by this Canadian band is quite nice. Nothing groundbreaking, but the songs and performances are strong, and in concert, the Stills were considerably livelier than I expected. Good show.

ROKY ERICKSON – The most historic moment of the whole fest was the performance by Roky Erickson, former leader of the Thirteenth Floor Elevators. Erickson spent much of the past few decades coping with mental illness, recovering recently with care from his brother. He hadn’t played a concert outside of his home state of Texas in many years. And with his sad, squinty eyes and pale complexion, Erickson had the look of someone who doesn’t go outdoors very often. But when we sang and played guitar Saturday, he sounded absolutely confident. His chunky, fuzz-drenched guitar riffs were a garage-rock variation on the blues. And when he opened his mouth for the “Oh, yeah!” holler that begins the Thirteenth Floor Elevators’ best-known song, “You’re Gonna Miss Me,” it felt like the impassioned voice of the young man who’d sung it 40 years ago was coming out of that older man’s body. Roky got a huge round of applause and came back for a two-song encore. Nice to see this guy getting that kind of appreciation.

THE BOREDOMS – Three drummers sitting in a circle, playing almost nonstop for 45 minutes. Another guy jumping up and down and screaming incoherently, making wonky sounds on his keyboard. OK, this is not everyone’s thing, but I thought it was brilliant.

GHOSTFACE – This is another hip-hop act that just didn’t connect with me. Too much of the performance consisted of calling out “Wu – Tang – Clan!” and similar shtick. By the way… the emcees on Saturday were a highly annoying bunch of shock-jock-style comedians, including one jerk dressed up like a baby in a diaper. The crowd reaction was hostile, and as these emcees were trying to introduce Ghostface, someone in the audience yelled out, “Ghostface, bust those guys!”

LADY SOVEREIGN – My, she’s tiny, a little wisp of a girl. Her sassy attitude and tongue-twisting words were entertaining.

THE STREETS – Mike Skinner, aka The Streets, is one of the most creative and entertaining hip-hop artists right now, that I’m aware of (and I admit there’s a lot I’m not aware of). His records are both amusing and musically interesting. The live show was not quite as good (it lacked some of the musical sophistication of the studio recordings), but he’s a funny guy with an entertaining stage presence. He honed in on some girl in the front of the audience, pretended to be wooing her – even singing a little of the Arctic Monkeys’ “I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor.” Then, being very English, he turns around and apologizes to the girl’s boyfriend for hitting on her. In another bit of shtick (yeah, I know I criticized other acts for being shticky; this was good shtick), Skinner urged the crowd to crouch down then jump up. “I want to thank you so much for going low.” In his encore, he threw in a line or two from Joan Jett’s “I Love Rock ’n’ Roll.”

SEE MORE PHOTOS FROM INTONATION FEST DAY 2.

I showed up a little later today, sorry to have missed the Tyrades, Bill Dolan, Panthers, Constantines, Rhymfest and Annie. Lupe Fiasco was finishing up just as I arrived. What little I heard of his hip-hop sounded pretty good.

THE SWORD – The bad emcees from yesterday were gone, replaced by comedian Neil Hamburger. He was annoying and crude, but in a way that was almost performance art, which made it more tolerable. He introduced this Austin band as “the Screaming Mimis” before correcting himself. This was another band on the borderline between metal and stoner rock. I liked it, because there was more melody and some touches of Black Sabbath and ’70s rock. At one point, the singer introduced a song by saying, “We just made a video for this next song. I am happy to report there was only one spear wound.” I’m not sure if he was joking.

BLUE CHEER – I know this band more by reputation than its music. Their cover of “Summertime Blues” is cool, of course. And they were once named the world’s loudest rock band. (Somehow, I doubt that decibel readings were taken at enough concerts to know for sure who’s loudest.) And I hear that they brought along their stacks of Marshall amps when they played on “American Bandstand,” even though they had to lip-synch, like every other act on that show. They hadn’t played in Chicago since 1970 or 1971, when they spent the night in jail after the concert on marijuana charges (or that’s how the story was told onstage, at least). “The last time we were here, they threw us in jail,” singer-bassist Dickie Peterson said. “At least this time, we’ll go to jail together.” Well, if you say so… These guys looked old, but still like Hell’s Angels. Peterson had a shock of straw-colored hair and a devilish beard, and he was wearing a beaded vest over an orange shirt. His voice was pretty hoarse. The performance seemed just OK to me, nothing too fiery, more sludgy than anything. “Summertimes Blues” sounded pretty good, though, with more interesting guitar soloing. Introducing the song “Parchment Farm,” Peterson noted that it was originally a jazz song by Mose Allison. “I think Mose dies every time he hears this version, but he probably likes the paycheck.” Peterson’s banter about peace and love was amusing, and he promised, “We ain’t gonna stop till we die.”

JON BRION – Luring Brion to perform at Intonation wasn’t quite as much of a coup as booking Roky Erickson, but it was still a rare chance to see this Los Angeles studio whiz playing outside of his home state. Brion has built a cult following with his weekly shows in L.A., where he uses tape loops to construct multilayered songs, switching from drums to keyboards to guitar and vocals. While he played a few songs simply standing in front of the microphone with a guitar and singing, Brion also constructed a few of his pop symphonies for the Intonation audience. Most impressively, the songs actually rocked, with some intense guitar solos by Brion. Benmont Tench of Tom Petty and the Heartbreaker joined Brion for a couple of songs, playing on a wee piano, barely bigger than Schroeder’s. In addition to his original songs, Brion played covers of Zombies, Beatles and Kinks tunes. (I apparently missed his encore of “Waterloo Sunset,” with Wilco’s Glenn Kotche coming out to play with him. Thinking his set was over, I’d gone over to the other stage for Robert Pollard, and I didn’t even hear this. Greg Kot wrote about it in the Tribune today. Oh, well…)

ROBERT POLLARD – Not much different from Guided By Voices, solo Robert Pollard still sings lot of obscure songs drawn from his immense repertoire, chugs alcohol, twirls his microphone and makes karate kicks. The current band (including, among other, Tommy Keene and Jason Narducy) is quite good, and the songs included newer solo tracks as well as the GBV classic “Game of Pricks.” The only shortcoming was that some of the songs went on a bit long, with extra choruses and solos. All that fat was missing from those short, sharp GBV songs in the days of old.

DEAD PREZ – Definitely the most political of the hip-hop acts I saw at Intonation. These guys were very hard-hitting with lyrics about kicking in the door of the White House, among other things. Kicking off a song about schools not teaching black kids what they need to know, Dead Prez sang the chorus of “Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2),” asking the crowd, “Who knows about Pink Floyd?” Asking the crowd to raise its fists for black power, they noted that much of the crowd was white. “That white first gotta stand for black power.” As galvanizing as Dead Prez could be, the concert got bogged down in too many political speeches between the songs, including an appearance by Fred Hampton Jr. to call for a street to be designated in honor of his father, the late Black Panthers leader, even if “Gangsta Daley” doesn’t allow it. (Funny… the guys in Chromeo used the term “gangsta” as a compliment the day before…)

BLOC PARTY brought the festival to a fitting end, with a dance-worthy set of tunes. I rather liked this band when I saw them at the SXSW 2005 Spin party, but then their CD never really connected with me. They’ve got a good sound, but they just don’t vary it that much from song to song. Seeing the band live again, though, made me appreciate them all over. A song from the forthcoming album sounded promising. It was long ­– almost like a multipart suite.

Calexico at Metro

Has Calexico mellowed into some sort of Tex-Mex lite rock? Some people apparently think so, after a cursory listen to the band’s latest CD, Garden Ruin. While the record does have more than its share of quiet moments, it has some rockers, too, and this album’s a grower.

And in concert, on June 23 at Metro, Calexico is just as fiery and nimble as ever. It was another top-notch performance by Calexico tonight. Joey Burns is sort of an assuming frontman — not super showy — but that just adds to feeling that this one-time duo has truly become a full-fledged band. Especially impressive is that German/Latino duo swapping instruments all night long — trumpets, vibes, keyboards, guitar, accordion, percussion — those guys (Martin Wenk and Jacob Valenzuela) are great. John Convertino got some excellent rattlesnake noises out of the drum kit.

There were a lot of old songs, plus a good sample from the new record. “Bisbee Blue” and “Letter to Bowie Knife” sounded especially good, as did the Feast of Wire tunes like “Not Even Stevie Nicks” (that one veered off into a new section that sounded much different from the studio version). Calexico also played its nice cover of Love’s “Alone Again Or,” and during the encore, opening act Jason Collett and a bunch of other musicians came onstage for Bob Dylan’s “Gotta Serve Somebody.” Other guest musicians included Doug McCombs of Tortoise and Eleventh Dream Day sitting in on guitar for a few songs and Chicago’s go-to guy on trumpet, Dave “Max” Crawford (who’s also a bartender at Metro… nice to see him on the stage there for a change).

A screen behind the band showed grainy footage of bullfights, horses wading through water and demolition derbies. It was just grainy and abstract enough to work as a nice visual backdrop without being too distracting, and it matched Calexico’s Southwestern vibe perfectly.

I don’t know the solo music of Jason Collett, who opened the concert, but it sounded pretty darn good. Mellow pop taken up a notch by some talented musicians (including guest players from the Stills, who were in town for Intonation Fest.)

The BellRays at the Empty Bottle

Soul music and R&B are alive well these days, not because of the usual slickly produced fare you hear on the radio, but because of rawer, back-to-basics acts like Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings, the Detroit Cobras and the BellRays. The BellRays put on a lively performance before a small crowd (about 50 or so, not pathetic, but they deserved a bigger audience), with lead singer Lisa Kekaula exhorting everyone to dance and holler. The BellRays play a mix of soul with some hard-rock or garage-rock guitars. I like their new album Have a Little Faith pretty well, but it all sounded better in concert. SEE PHOTOS OF THE BELLRAYS.

The opening acts were Bottles of Wine (who did not leave much of an impression on me… reasonably well-played but not very interesting blues) and SSM. I’m not sure what to make of SSM. The guitar-keyboard-drums trio had a pretty good sound, but the songs didn’t stick with me. SEE PHOTOS OF SSM.

 

Radiohead at the Auditorium Theatre

The Radiohead faithful thronged Chicago’s Auditorium Theatre on Monday night, June 19 — including those without tickets, who paraded up and down the crowded sidewalks with cardboard signs.

One fan wore a sandwich board with stenciled letters that reflected the paranoid bent of so many Radiohead lyrics: “THE GOVERNMENT DOESN’T WANT ME TO HAVE A TICKET.” Another fan made the more plausible claim: “WE DROVE 12 HOURS.”

Other fans had come from as far away as California.

Radiohead concerts are events. This British quintet is quite simply one of the world’s best and most exciting rock bands, and anytime Radiohead records new songs or tours, it’s big news in the world of rock music.

The Auditorium Theatre provided an elegant setting for Radiohead’s singular blend of art rock, great guitar riffs, electronica and emotional yet enigmatic vocals.  Following a strong opening set of hard blues rock by the Black Keys, the crowd erupted into thunderous, even ravenous applause as the auditorium fell dark and Radiohead entered.

What followed were 23 songs spanning Radiohead’s career — including nine songs that may end up on the group’s next album, likely to be released in 2007.

The question on every Radiohead fan’s mind: How are the new songs? Most of them seemed good, even very good, but not great. However, first impressions of Radiohead music can be deceiving, so one hesitates to make a definitive pronouncement.

A couple of the new songs actually sounded a little like soul music, a new trend for Radiohead. “15 Step” featured hand claps and a techno-dance beat, while  “House of Cards” was a quieter number with a mellow guitar rhythm and a falsetto by Thom Yorke that wasn’t far off from “Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay.”

“House of Cards” was one of two new songs that were strong enough to give hope that Radiohead’s next album could be yet another classic. The other impressive new song, “4 Minute Warning,” featured an instantly catchy melody, with Yorke playing the electric piano amid an echo-laden arrangement.

Radiohead still knows how to fashion a straightforward rock song, and some of the new tunes did rock, including “Bangers ’n’ Mash,” which featured Yorke taking a drum solo; “Spooks,” a surprising instrumental with Dick Dale-style surf guitar; and “Open Pick,” which had all three of Radiohead’s guitarists going full-out on their axes.

“Videotape” had Yorke sitting at the piano, with an off-kilter drum pattern entering the song at an unexpected point, eventually making sense as the rest of the band kicked in. Other new songs – “Nude,” “Down is the New Up” and “Like Spinning Plates” – often turned into showcases for Yorke’s tenor, like miniature art-rock arias.

Radiohead is clearly a band in which every member’s contribution is important to the whole.

Bassist Colin Greenwood and drummer Phil Selway are an amazing rhythm section, bringing a strange life even to seemingly mechanical beats. Ed O’Brien plays not just great guitar riffs, but he also contributes Radiohead’s important backup vocals, which are often the hooks that make you want to sing along. And Johnny Greenwood is practically a one-man band, hopping between guitar solos, keyboard, theremin and drums, hiding his face beneath a mop of hair but never concealing his musical passion.

Yorke is, however, the band’s focal point, one of rock music’s most peculiarly appealing figures. His lyrics would make him appear to be an eccentric introverted poet, but on the stage, fed by the adoration and applause of his fans, Yorke becomes strangely extroverted.

During the most rhythmic songs, Yorke danced awkwardly like a marionette operated by a drunken puppetmaster. During “The National Anthem,” Yorke grasped the microphone for a few minutes before he actually began singing – as if in a trance, he squeezed his eyes shut and made hiccupping noises into the mike, before finally spitting out the words.

Radiohead played three songs from its last album, 2003’s “Hail to the Thief,” two from 2001’s “Amnesiac,” four from 2000’s “Kid A,” three from 1997’s “OK Computer” and one from 1995’s “The Bends.”

Early in the concert, as Yorke began strumming a B minor chord on his acoustic guitar, the audience instantly recognized “Exit Music (For a Film),” a classic track from the landmark “OK Computer.” A number of fans made “Wooo!” noises, followed by another contingent making “Shhhh!” sounds, all of which prompted Yorke to give a sly grin.

While the “OK Computer” songs drew some of the most enthusiastic applause all night, Radiohead’s later, more electronic music was also warmly received, showing that the band’s fans have followed it through musical changes, even when skeptics said the group was becoming too “difficult.”

The concert closed with one of those electronic songs that originally baffled some listeners, “Everything in Its Right Place,” prompting the crowd to clap along to the track’s insistent beat. That simple little tune, a Radiohead song reduced to bare bones, sounded magnificent.

As the band left the stage, its patterns continued to repeat through the amplifiers, a crescendo both noisy and beautiful.

SET LIST:
“You and Whose Army?”
“The National Anthem”
“15 Step”
“Morning Bell”
“Exit Music (For A Film)”
“Open Pick”
“Videotape”
“Knives Out”
“The Gloaming”
“Nude”
“Down Is the New Up”
“Paranoid Android”
“Bangers  ’n’ Mash”
“Like Spinning Plates”
“Spooks”
“Idioteque”
“There There”

First encore:
“A Wolf at the Door”
“4 Minute Warning”
“Bones”
“Lucky”

Second encore:
“House of Cards”
“Everything in its Right Place”