Noise Pop

Noise Pop Roundup 3: Flaming Lips, Veronica Falls, Matthew Dear, Archers of Loaf

1

MVP for Noise Pop coverage this year goes to Ryan Prendiville. See below to find out why – Ed.

TUESDAY: The Flaming Lips at Bimbo’s

Time, for the Flaming Lips, is important. Because as a band — one that has been through all sorts of well documented shit — the Flaming Lips know the value of time (particularly borrowed) and have made it their work to not just create music but get into the complete manufacture of moments. Which is a tricky business, because moments are bastards.

Take all the pictures you want of the blinding lights, the beautiful costumed kids, the confetti cannons or all the other individual weapons that the Flaming Lips use to wage musical psychedelic war on time, and the moment still might not fit in a shutter, no matter how you slice a second. Full review here.

WEDNESDAY: Grimes, Born Gold, oOoOO, and Yalls at Rickshaw Stop

Cecil Frena described the lineup at Rickshaw Stop last night simply as “weird music.” He should know. Performing with his synth-fueled electronic dance trio, Born Gold (formerly Gobble Gobble,) Frena stood in front of a camera-slash-iPad pulpit, singing and conducting a third of the group’s sound via a motion-captured, clearly homemade, Janet Jackson Rhythm Nation era-esque military jacket. Full review here.

THURSDAY: Surf Club and FIDLAR at Cafe Du Nord, New Diplomat and Big Black Delta at Rickshaw Stop

“This song is called ‘Stoked and Broke,’” the band’s most talkative, spastic member introduced the first song, explaining, “because we’re stoked and broke.” What followed was a frenetic set of punk fueled, stripped down rock. With a rollicking tightness that reminded me of Thee Oh Sees, FIDLAR shot along, keeping the energy up by alternating singers. Full review here.

I left Cafe Du Nord after FIDLAR, hoping to catch at least some of Big Black Delta at the Rickshaw Stop. When I arrived another band was just starting. A local five piece, New Diplomat reminds me of the kind of groups that dominated the alternative rock airwaves in the late ’90s after grunge and pop-punk stopped being exciting. Since it was about the same time period when I stopped listening to the radio, and New Diplomat’s spiky haired singer had that emo/screamo edge that I have a hard time tolerating, it makes sense that the band put me off.

But then when Jonathan Bates, a.k.a. Big Black Delta started to perform, and I felt almost nothing, a more alarming possibility came to mind: maybe I’m burnt out. On record, I’ve liked what I’ve heard of Big Black Delta’s droned, vocally distorted hard electronic tracks. And performance-wise, Bates kept things appropriately dark, moody, and atmospheric, bumping up the sound with two drummers, each banging away on their side of the stage for some heavy hitting percussion. That whole stereo kit thing is usually the easy way to pull me in, but in this case all I could do was recognize it with cheap approval. Between New Diplomat and Big Black Delta the crowd thinned out a bit, and I leave early too, hoping to reset my baseline by the next day.

FRIDAY: Brilliant Colors, Bleached, and Veronica Falls at Rickshaw Stop, Matthew Dear at Public Works

My plan for the night was to see Veronica Falls at Brick and Mortar, and then hopefully run across the street to catch Matthew Dear at Public Works. But when I showed up at Brick and Mortar, the man at the door told me I had the wrong venue, their Noise Pop show was the night before. I apologized and, checking my schedule, saw that I was indeed an idiot. So much for that plan, at least I wore a coat.

The show was underway at Rickshaw. I didn’t know any of the bands opening for Veronica Falls. The androgynous singer onstage had a bowl cut and was wearing a collared button up that was the most over-sized fashion piece since Stop Making Sense. I couldn’t make out the words, but it was a nice voice – a little deep and dreamy – that mixed in with some catchy guitar riffs. The band was playing melodic pop, and having fun by all appearances. I found out later they are SF’s Brilliant Colors.

The next band, Bleached, had a sound that reminded of the Dum Dum Girls with a lo-fi punk edge. Two of the girls are blondes and the other two aren’t even girls. Bleached was more energetic on stage than Brilliant Colors, but I found their songs didn’t really hook me in. (It also didn’t help that there was a camera crew onstage with them.) The group harmonized a lot and decently, but too often spent a lot of time singing vowels (oohs, ahhs, and ohhs), which started to wear on me. They played a Ramones cover. I think it’s “When I Was Young.”

Still, it was good lineup leading into Veronica Falls, a UK band that has a retro pop sound as well. VF’s sound live was as clean and distinctive as it is on record, with nice guitar work over a signature drum sound that has an ever-present jangle that’s accomplished by little more than taping a tambourine to the floor tom. The band’s vocal style has some nice contrast, between Roxanne Clifford’s usual lead with backing from James Hoare and Patrick Doyle, but really I think it’s its structure and a Belle and Sebastian-like sense of lyrical imagery on songs like “Stephen” or “Bad Feeling” that sets the group apart.

So much so that on “Crimson and Clover”-referencing song, “Come on Over” VF can bust out some oohs and ohhs without it seeming like a shortcut. It was a good set, with a lot of new material as well, for the band that canceled its earlier SF debut due to visa issues. If anything, Veronica Falls was overly apologetic, drummer Patrick politely stated before the encore, “I know I keep saying it, and I feel like a bit of a dick saying it, but thanks.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bE6BFAwzwLU

It was before midnight when Veronica Falls finished, so I hurried to Public Works, where they were still setting the stage. While waiting for Matthew Dear to come on, however, I had the misfortune of standing in front of someone explaining to everyone within earshot how terrible the venue was, how it was a warehouse that they just put equipment in but never fixed up, how if she just got a warehouse for a weekend she could fix it up nicer, how there was a bare two-by-four nailed to the beam above the stage for no apparent reason, how they charged club prices but it was “not really a club.” (Sort of the reason I actually like it, that last part).

When Matthew Dear started performing, with a live band – his second night with the lineup – it all sounded more loud and abrasive than I had expected. I think my attitude, and my tired ears had been switched to bitch mode by the girl behind me. The show was sweaty and chaotic, it being a weekend late night at Noise Pop, but I called it a night while it was still going on.

SATURDAY: Noise Pop Culture Club at Public Works, Built Like Alaska, Hospitality, The Big Sleep, and Archers of Loaf at Great American Music Hall

This would be my last day of Noise Pop, I was convinced. As much as I would’ve liked to, I started the day knowing that I would not make it to Sunday’s Dodos show. Between my day job, covering Noise Pop, and pet-sitting three cats (who operate in a binary of meowing or vomiting) back in the East Bay, I may have taken on too much last week. That said, somehow, Saturday at noon I found myself back at Public Works, for the Noise Pop Culture Club, a six-hour-long block of workshops, screenings, interviews, performances, and something called the Seagate Remix Lounge that I didn’t really understand.

When I got to PW they were screening selections of Petites Planètes, another musical documentary series by the guy behind the Take-Away Shows on YouTube. The videos were cool, but the director, Vincent Moon, wasn’t there for the Q&A. Something about being a “nomad.” Dude bailed. Disappointing. Since I was sitting 20 feet from a bartender with nothing to do, I decided to get a drink, but the shaky feeling in my stomach reminded me that I hadn’t had the right ratio of solid food to alcohol in my diet last week. Some spicy noodles from the food truck outside created a buffer on which I began to add of few layers of bourbon, while watching the restored, color version of Méliès A Trip to the Moon, with soundtrack by AIR.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Nx8hVGzSO4

The main plan was to see Zigaboo Modeliste of the Meters play the drums. Modeliste was there as part of a Q&A with the makers of Re:Generation Music Project, a documentary-slash-Hyundai promotion in which he appeared. The clips made the recently released film (which apparently no one in the audience had seen) seem interesting, if only for scenes with whipper snapper EDM artists like Skrillex and Pretty Lights attempting to work with established musicians in other genres, awkwardly. At the end Modeliste played the drums for a bit, and the snare was so loud that each time he smacked it everyone in the audience blinked. A walk outside in the sun and a Bloody Mary later, I returned for a how-to session on using Ableton, and realized I am un-Able ton stay awake.

Clearly, when I made it to the Great American Music Hall, I was in bad shape. Nearly asleep on my feet, with quite a bit of time to go, and not thinking clearly, I made a bad strategic move that combines Red Bull and vodka, two things I don’t like anymore together than apart. When the first band, Built Like Alaska went onstage, I was in a fairly vile mood, my head hanging limp over the balcony while I wrote down petty things about the drummer that I didn’t like: his hat (a fedora indoors) his shirt (vintage Mickey Mouse) his facial hair (Tom Selleck meets Mario Brothers). All this, when his consistently irregular drumming was actually my favorite part of the band who I really had no problem with. Clearly, I was hating hard that night.

Until the next band, Hospitality played. I’d never heard Hospitality before – it was the band’s first time playing in San Francisco – but the sound pulled me in almost immediately, led by the charming, identifiable lilt in guitarist and lead singer Amber Papini’s voice. The songs were light and bouncy, and Papini performed with a slight disaffected edge, always looking up and off to something above the crowd, making strange faces and rolling her eyes at no one in particular. When I got home later, I went online almost immediately to listen to its album and find the song “Friends of Friends.”

Likewise, I tried to find music from the final opener, the Big Sleep, but that’s more of a band to see in concert form, as the trio’s main attraction is a Jack White-like guitarist, who has a lively style of playing and a way of alternating his sound between growling and loud to Jesus Christ, where did I put my ear plugs, I can feel my cochlear hair cells dying.

Now I’m not the biggest Archers of Loaf fan – the band’s actually only been on my radar since a number of high profile reissues last year – but other people at the Great American were clearly eager to see the reformed act live. When a few random notes came out of bassist Matt Gentling’s instrument during the band’s set-up a woman above stage in the balcony yelped, jumping to her feet and clapping her hands together excitedly.

Launching into “Harnessed in Slums,” the band played with an easy energy that gave no suggestion of their hiatus or age, and people in the crowd were shouting “I want waste! We want waste!” along with the chorus. Gentling in particular was electric. He leapt around stage and struck every hard rock guitar god stance imaginable but did it with a physicality that actually pulled them off. (Dude is ripped, FYI.)

At one point early on, struggling with some technical issues, Gentling looked at singer-guitarist Eric Bachmann and joked, “It’s just like the old days, everything is breaking.” Not quite getting the kink out of his bass, Gentling asked the crowd if it’d be ok if the band just kept playing through the difficulty, and Archers of Loaf continued on, powering through a long set. The place wasn’t full, but the crowd made up for it, and was still shaking the floorboards fifteen or so songs later when Archers play “Wrong” and shred a version of “Nostalgia”, making an encore completely obvious.

Ten minutes later – when I headed for BART to wait for a train alongside a couple of giggling guys laying on the platform surrounded by what must have been a dozen empty nitrous canisters – I was no longer tired and sent a text that read: “Okay. That was a good show. Worth it.”

Noise Pop Roundup 2: Cursive, Budos Band, Emily Jane White, DRMS, Atlas Sound

0

My personal strategy for Noise Pop 2012 was to pack in as diverse a personal schedule as possible, taking into account old obsessions (Cursive, Bradford Cox) and favored newer acts (Allah-Las, DRMS), national and local bands and musicians, weird and precious live indie music.

I also wanted to spread my time over multiple venues, so this time around I hit up the Independent, Bimbo’s, Great American Music Hall, Swedish American, and Mezzanine. I walked the length of the city, racked up some high bus and cab bills, likely imbibed too frequently and caught some stellar live music. My head, feet, and note-scribbling hand are sore, but it was worth it.

WEDNESDAY: Cursive at Great American Music Hall

It was mid-song (“The Martyr,” 2000’s Domestica), mid-set (Noise Pop), of Cursive’s likely sold-out performance at Great American Music Hall. I opened my eyes, scanned the room, and saw we were all singing along breathlessly. Plaid-shirted forearms thrust towards stage, fringed heads bobbing, and everyone within earshot hollering towards the center. There in the middle stood grizzled singer-guitarist Tim Kasher, leader of the Omaha-bred longtime Saddle Creek Records fixture Cursive, as well as the Good Life. Parsing his words carefully, Kasher spoke for nearly the first time after a quick-fire opening shot of beloved Domestica and Ugly Organ tracks, interspersed with brand newer, understandably less-clapped-for I Am Gemini cuts. “Let’s get candid,” he understated. Full review here.

THURSDAY: Allah-Las and Budos Band at Independent

If you could handpick its most redeeming qualities and inhabitants from any time period in the past half century, Los Angeles could actually be a rather magical place. Pluck the psychedelic guitar strains reverberating through Laurel Canyon, scoop a fistful of bronzed sun-kissed surfers and sparkling waves from the coast, add two shakes of downtown weirdness, and you’d likely come up with something along the lines of Allah-Las, the quartet that opened for Budos Band during the Noise Pop lineup at the Independent Thursday. Full review here.

FRIDAY: Emily Jane White and DRMS at Swedish American Music Hall

The first time I saw dark folk songstress Emily Jane White live was at an ornate church on a hill (RIP EpiscoDisco) so this Noise Pop stop at the Swedish American Music Hall last Friday brought back some particular memories. Memories of an elegant, otherworldly setting and the singer-guitarist who encapsulates the venue’s charms.

With nary a smile, the black cloth-and-lace-swaddled White beautifully finger-picked and sang original tracks off 2009’s Victorian American and 2010’s Ode to Sentience, backed by a seated guitarist, a fellow on bass clarinet, and later, a violinist, who added even more depth to haunting closing song, “Victorian America” – a piece that showcases the bold yet breathy strength of White’s voice. Seated in folding chairs at the Swedish American, surrounded by dark wood trim, the audience clapped politely then grabbed between-act beers from guest bartender John Vanderslice.

Upon my return from Vanderslicing, I saw that DRMS (formerly known as Dreams) had splayed across the relatively small church-like stage, a clump of seven musicians with an interesting mixture of instruments and styles. Behind the retro 1920s blues vocals, the Afro-folk band incorporated more traditional instruments along with melodica, vibraphone, and some sort of bag of shimmering noise, all rainstick-like. Live, the intimate set felt like it could be happening anywhere in the world, a group of friends playing jumbly music with hints at a grab-bag variety of genres and cultures. This could work anywhere, yet still the venue felt the ideal setting.

SATURDAY: Atlas Sound at Bimbo’s

Three of the four acts Saturday night at Bimbo’s were solo dudes on guitar making sounds far beyond the basic limitations of the instrument. These were experiments in experimenting, Carnivores, Frankie Broyles, and of course, the man who likely influenced the others in some form or another, Atlas Sound (aka Bradford Cox, also of Deerhunter).

With a courteous “hello,” Cox picked up one of his magic vintage guitars – one attached to so many pedals and looping mechanisms that one pictures a jumble of chords slithering snake-like up his thigh – and opened up to a captive Bimbo’s crowd with his hypnotic near-soundscapes.

Not knowing quite what to expect live, I was, for whatever reason, somewhat surprised to see only Cox on stage at Bimbo’s (another grand San Francisco venue, for those keeping track of the prettiest music spots to visit) playing music so full it sounded like a full band. Perhaps a ghost band sat behind him, guiding the chord snakes.

Though it’s his solo project, it’s still mystifying to me that he can create such a beautiful noise alone. Cox’s swirling, pulsating loops of guitar and drum sounds picked up speed at times, revving up those in the audience as well, particularly during “Shelia” off 2009’s Logos and more so tracks off most recently released record Parallax: “Te Amo”  and “Terra Incognita.”

The front row of the ballroom was packed with youthful obsession (the excited youngsters sat up front on the dancefloor ground from the time the doors opened at 7 p.m. ’till Atlas Sound’s set at 11). Those kids provided fodder for Cox’s eccentric on-stage musings later in the evening, when he brought a boy on stage and said he looked like a younger version of him. I also heard later that young fans swarmed Cox after the set to gush and thank him for saving their lives, with his music.

Noise Pop Roundup 1: Shannon and the Clams, Die Antwoord, Glass Candy, last-minute parties

0

May I first say thanks to Noise Pop for bringing a sense of urgency to my concert-going behavior. I am nothing if not a festival junkie, and the sheer mass of shows that this particular festival coordinated was awe-inspiring and more than a little anxiety-provoking for those of us who feel the need to go to everything, always. Plus: badges. There is nothing like walking around feeling like you have special access to an entire city, at 24 venues in total from Bimbo’s up in North Beach to the Golden Gate Park-clad California Academy of Science.

Fresh off of a week in New Orleans for Mardi Gras, I couldn’t do it all. But here’s how I tried:

WEDNESDAY: Die Antwoord at Regency Ballroom 

This was the show I was most excited about seeing, and the South African hip-hop trio (emcees Ninja and Yolandi Vi$$er, and DJ Hi-Tek) were definitely worth their sold-out hype-age. Even if you can’t get down with their ultra-aggressive lyrics, you can’t quibble with Die Antwoord’s showmanship – even while spinning around like a demented, shaved head-top and bounding across the stage Vi$$er and Ninja managed to hit every lyric like wow. Sadly, the show opened with DJ Hi-Tek’s Mike Tyson-inspired homophobic rantings, and that was tough-impossible to get past. Is Hi-Tek gay? Who cares. Full review here

THURSDAY: Shannon and the Clams at Cafe Du Nord

One of the greatest things about Noise Pop is that the fest brings new audience to local favorites – and I found, conjures up concert experiences that are a lot different than if you saw your Bay-Bays in the same old venue with the same old crowd as always. Such was Thursday night’s lineup of the Soft Pack, Shannon and the Clams, Fidlar, and Surf Club. (Check Ryan Prendiville’s review of these last two acts here) It was actually my first time catching the Clams, but seeing the group slay it at Du Nord cast them in a different light than if my first time had been moshing in a room-capacity sweaty knot at, say, the Knockout. The Clams came across as a band that is expanding its reach beyond the dark rooms of the Bay Area. After the show lead singer Shannon Shaw told us that the group was in the process of recording its next album, so yay. 

FRIDAY: Glass Candy at Mezzanine

I wasn’t wearing neon, but Portland’s Glass Candy still moved my ass out of the upstairs VIP booth we’d somehow scammed and into the throngs for the middle and end of Ida No and Johnny Jewel’s set. The Chromatics are fine, but that group’s live set (which we tasted pre-Candy) was the teensiest bit slow, not compelling enough to leave the cold leather fishbowl that was the booth. Not so No and Jewel, who satisfied all the jumping grindsters with ecstatic chords and No’s prancing. 

SATURDAY: Big Queer Dance Party at Public Works

Headliner Big Freedia canceled in a medical emergency, but the crew behind this event decided to keep the ‘big’ and go along with it. Was it a Noise Pop event? Besides Freedia, the schedule, venue, and lineup had remained the same, but staff at the door told me that it was no longer part of the festival, so Noise Pop badge holders had to pay again to enter. Seemed like a boner move, but I was glad to be there once I was inside, if only to check out Double Dutchess’ beautiful boys getting hyped onstage. Their raybeams were reflected in the crowd for the rest of the night – DJ Bus Station John, Stay Gold’s DJ PinkLightning, and DJ Laydown (Hard French crewmember Timothy Strong in his debut on the decks) kept everything really sweaty – which was great because after that much Noise Pop I had some toxins to sweat out. 

Promising newish acts at Noise Pop 2012: Surf Club and FIDLAR

0

He asked if there were drink tickets. The bartender nodded, saying that the band could have wine now, and then beers on stage. Neither of those options would work for Stockton’s Surf Club, whose members were all sporting big black X’s — the mark of the underaged — at their Café Du Nord Noise Pop appearance.

When Surf Club played, melancholic Stratocaster led pop, that youthful innocence was obvious in its music. Well, let’s not say innocence, maybe timidity? The lead singer was a big guy with a small voice, like Frank Black (or Kim Deal? someone from the Pixies) in quieter moments.

The softness fit with the lyrics, mostly teen angst songs void of irony with small goals and wants: just to be friends, just to get out of bed. Surf Club seems to be off to a good start, keeping it simple, strumming along to a speedy drum beat. We’ll see what happens when the shyness wears off.

The following band, LA’s FIDLAR (which, if you’re keeping score at home was 75% over legal drinking age) had absolutely no issues with confidence. Hell, with a name like Fuck It Dog Life’s A Risk, you know the band’s got to be somewhat carefree, if not downright cocky.

“This song is called ‘Stoked and Broke,’” the band’s most talkative, spastic member introduced the first song, explaining, “because we’re stoked and broke.” What followed was a frenetic set of punk fueled, stripped down rock. With a rollicking tightness that reminded me of Thee Oh Sees, FIDLAR shot along, keeping the energy up by alternating singers.

Simple can be a conscious choice, and for FIDLAR that meant shouting through a song entirely consisting of the words “I drink cheap beer. So what? Fuck You!” with just enough attitude to make it work. Recently signing to Mom+Pop and with a full slate at this year’s SXSW, FIDLAR was definitely one of the better surprises at Noise Pop so far.

From California to Ethiopia with Allah-Las and the Budos Band

0

If you could handpick its most redeeming qualities and inhabitants from any time period in the past half century, Los Angeles could actually be a rather magical place. Pluck the psychedelic guitar strains reverberating through Laurel Canyon, scoop a fistful of bronzed sun-kissed surfers and sparkling waves from the coast, add two shakes of downtown weirdness, and you’d likely come up with something along the lines of Allah-Las, the quartet that opened for Budos Band during the Noise Pop lineup at the Independent Thursday.

Sporting a bolo tie and an acoustic guitar, lead singer Miles Michaud ran the band through a tight set of exhaustively pleasant, twist-worthy folk-adelia – with the kind of echoing vocals that shoot you back to a simpler time of black-and-white TV rock’n’roll. Perhaps behind those smiling, hair shaking acts of Ed Sullivan yore, a secret hallucinatory tab or barbiturate ran through the blood streams; if you could somehow bring those mysteries pumping through warm veins to the surface, you could get the Allah-Las set. Likewise, it could have replaced Strawberry Alarm Clock in Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, had any of its members been alive at the time.

Maybe most of the 20/30-something, casually hippie crowd was not there for these openers (or the other opening acts), because they seemed mostly stoic – and this sound pleaded for shaking, at least a few hip-swivels. Something. 

And from this vintage California boardwalk postcard of a band, we were flown around the world to Ethiopian jazz-via-Staten-Island. The instrumental Budos Band headlined the night and crushed its set – after an abnormally boiling, sticky half-hour wait that left a nearby fan audibly exasperated, and a trail of cool sweat down my back.

The 10-13-piece – counted nine on stage last night – Afro-funk band sauntered out with brassy swagger, clasping large horns (sax, trumpet), traditional vestiges of rock’n’roll (guitar, bass), and plenty of African percussion, amidst a hovering cloud of herbal smoke. Never have I seen such a charismatic baritone saxophonist as Jared Tankel, taking control of the stage with his impressive horn and skill, a maestro of groove, eliciting excitement from the audience by pumping one arm up when freed from the keys.

(The below video was not shot at the Indy, but in Washington a few days earlier) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GjPhtjIKjpc

With an instrumental set, the mind naturally wanders, and with this one, it brought me to Bill Murray. Specifically, the downtrodden, graying Murray driving around listening to Ethiopian jazz artist Mulatu Astatke in Broken Flowers. Though I see Budos Band too as perfect driving music, the audience moved far more for during this round, hooting and hollering, shifting and swaying to the consistent beat, laid down by bongos, congas, tambourine, clave, and West African shekere.

The walls were dripping with sweat by the end of it all, and though it was not the transnational journey I’d conjured, the few hour brain-vacation boded well.

 

All photos by Chris Stevens.

Bounce to this: Rusty Lazer does Mardi Gras

1

Due to health problems, Big Freedia had to cancel her and Rusty Lazer’s Noise Pop gig at Public Works Sat/25. The event been transmutated into a big gay dance party with Double Duchess, DJ Bus Station John, and more. You should still read this interview, though.

With all its technicolor thrift flair, Mardi Gras costumes in state of midway-preparedness, and sleepy passels of breakfast-cooking houseguests, Jay Pennington’s New Orleans clapboard house is pretty hallucinatory on the Saturday afternoon of Carnaval weekend. Staring out the window waiting for the bounce DJ to call me up for our interview, I was to be excused for imagining that the shed in the side lot was producing actual chords while the New Orleans monsoon that raged outside hit it.

When I come across him in his bedroom, Pennington – who is also known as Rusty Lazer, and is the now-famous transgender NOLA bounce artist Big Freedia’s DJ and informal manager – is threading colored paper onto a string. He was going to be Hanuman the monkey god at the Mardi Gras parades on Sunday, his day off from work over Mardi Gras weekend. Around him, the city has ballooned with tourists and locals chucking beads at targets, high-stepping through brass numbers, eating frosted king cake, and peeing in inappropriate places.

I braved the rain that afternoon to talk about bounce music and Mardi Gras with Pennington, so it was kind of a surprise when our conversation swerved into the intricacies of 501(c)3 registration. It shouldn’t have been. He is a lot like New Orleans itself, a town that counts as a centuries-old melting pot, where the frat boys hang at the same bars as the career jazz musicians hang at the same bars as the pretty queer kids who sometimes party at dark gay leather bars (I was privy to this last comingling within six hours of landing in the Big Easy, at Daddy Aki’s Peacock party at the Phoenix Eagle Leather Bar where Pennington and his new managee Nicky Da B spun). [Correction: An earlier version of this article identified Peacock as Jay Pennington’s party. It is actually organized by Daddy Aki. Our bad.]

If you are a NOLA entertainer, Mardi Gras weekend counts among the most hectic of the year. Pennington had evenly informed me that my suggested meet-up time of noon was at least two hours too early considering the aftermath of the night shift on the decks he’d pulled before and that he would surely pull again that evening. But it’s two thirty now and for the moment, he’s able to focus on Hanuman, and attempt to tell me what’s so special about his city.

Hands-on Hanuman: Rusty Lazer in mid-Mardi Gras repose. Guardian photo by Caitlin Donohue

Though the DJ is playing less and less a role in Big Freedia’s career as she blows up and sells out shows around the country, Pennington continues to be a driving force in bounce’s dispersal outside NOLA. He signed his first official managerial contract with Nicky Da B, an adorable local whose track with Diplo hit Soundcloud last week. Bounce is indigenous to New Orleans — like Chicago’s juke and Detroit’s jit — a Caribbean-inflected dance music that is well known for the way its dancers pop their hips at machine gun rates.

Pennington is also is the co-founder along with Delaney Martin of New Orleans Air Lift, an international program he made to support local artists post-Katrina. This loosely-incorporated organization (it’s not 501(c)3 and relies instead on private donations, like the sales of the work of Swoon, one of the few females in the upper echelons of the street art world – her intricate, delicate wheatpastes blanket the fence next to Pennington’s house.) The Airlift Project has sponsored trips by New Orleanian artists to Berlin, even the import of Siberian breakdancer Ivan Stepanov to New Orleans.

This last story illustrates one of Pennington’s biggest turn-ons — fostering the artistic combustion that happens when a bunch of different energies get together. As illustration, he shows me a high fashion video shoot made by Lady Gaga’s stylist Nick Knight featuring the 19-year-old local bounce dancer Quack. 

After seeing a video of the improbably Barbie-bodied dancer, Knight contacted Pennington to ask if she’d care to do the same dance wearing Alexander McQueen for a fashion film series. Quack didn’t have a passport, but she went and got one with Pennington. The next day they went to London, found themselves “sitting in a room with nothing but Amazonian models.” Quack danced for eight hours to make the video, which turned out to be a testament to not just the extreme sexuality of bounce music, but also its athleticism, and emotional panacea. 

“This is the music that makes people forget that they’re hungry,” Pennington tells me, excitedly clicking through videos of schoolkids bouncing in rec centers, and endless YouTube clips of home bounce practice, done against a wall, ass to the camera. “It’s finally tuned to helping you forget your problems.” He wants to “take a New Orleans plane full of people all over the world,” to teach bounce to the masses. “In case anybody around here has forgotten how to have fun.”

The music lends itself to teaching — singers often give specific commands in songs, a popular request being for everbody to bend over and keep their ass popping. “Bounce is all instructions,” Pennington says.

The ability to move among social groups is one of the reasons why Pennington fell in love with New Orleans. 

“Here, you’re part of a community, not just part of a scene,” he reflects. “The difference is that the communities include all the people in your community. I don’t feel that in Portland or Austin.” He says the young arrivals in other artsy, liberal towns “hang out in mirrored social groups. I don’t know if that means anything, but it makes sense to me.” Pennington considers the neighborhood connections he’s made through participating in NOLA’s famous informal second line parades as, if not more, crucial than the ones he’s made with fellow travelers who have alit upon New Orleans as a haven for weirdos and music freaks. “New Orleans black community is nothing if not family-oriented,” he says.

Those mirrored social groups are a concept that should make sense to those beyond DJ Rusty Lazer. Part of what makes gentrification such a bummer is that when young bohos move into low-rent, family-oriented neighborhoods, they don’t form connections with the existing culture, imposing their own wacky adventures on top of the landscape as though they’re the first to really enjoy it. 

This missed connection leads newcomers away from frequenting established neighborhood businesses, and doesn’t provide for enough interconnectedness to get any kind of organizing come when rents start to rise and the condos come in. So good for New Orleans, and especially the rapidly changing Bywater neighborhood if they can avoid the typical storyline of minority community attracting broke artists attracting yuppies who can pay first, last, second, and third months’ rent in cash. 

Not the town doesn’t have other defense mechanisms. “The heat, the bugs, that lack of industry, the violence — that keeps it from growing out of control,” says Pennington. “It keeps the excessively ambitious away. When this place piles it on, it really piles it on. You can’t just casually live in New Orleans.” Wise words to the San Franciscan exodus that will surely come in the next months after tech boom 2.0

And for the record, I wasn’t hallucinating the house making music. The Ninth Ward’s musician mad scientist Quintron installed a rain organ into the Music Box, a small village of structures built in Pennington’s sideyard by 70 people to be played like a symphony, complete with Quintron playing conductor and a capacity crowd crammed into bleacher seating and crouching amid the structures themselves. At recent performances during last fall, 750 people showed up to watch the show. There was space for 250 in the sidelot. 

Live Shots: Grimes, Born Gold, oOoOO, and Yalls at Rickshaw Stop

0

Cecil Frena described the lineup at Rickshaw Stop last night simply as “weird music.” He should know. Performing with his synth-fueled electronic dance trio, Born Gold (formerly Gobble Gobble,) Frena stood in front of a camera-slash-iPad pulpit, singing and conducting a third of the group’s sound via a motion-captured, clearly homemade, Janet Jackson Rhythm Nation era-esque military jacket.

Definitely the strangest thing I’d seen all night, until Born Gold started its second song, at which point one of the other members strapped on a pair of stilts and began marching through the audience, playing a custom instrument consisting of a Roland SP-404 affixed to a snow shovel blade. The lighting for the theatrical set was either pitch black or blazing multicolored strobes, including a pair of handhelds that Born Gold used to blind part of the audience after covering them with a black tarp.

In more subdued moments Born Gold did synchronized dances with folding fans or put on helmets and beat each over the head with drum sticks.

As much as I noticed the music with all that going on, I’d say Born Gold was a decent fit with the first opener, Yalls. Yalls’s Dan Casey also played largely vocal driven electronic, although typically at a slower tempo and with a quirkier, less sexy lyrical sense. (Did Yalls just say something about living off the pennies in his moustache?) The clipped female R&B samples that made up a sizable portion of one of his beats recalled the time that Ben Gibbard dug up J Dilla’s grave to form the Ghostal Service and cut a chillwave album.

It was clear that most people in the sold out crowd were there to see the very buzzed about Grimes, particularly the wave of hardcore photographers who emerged and cut to the front just before the night’s second to last act, oOoOO (pronounced, by Frena as “Oh, upper case and lower case.”) With a heavy, grim quality that thematically might have fit with Grimes, in terms of the night’s lineup oOoOO was just slotted wrong, as the set was an experiment in how slow one can go. The answer? Really fucking slow. Put a cassette of dirty hip hop — with lots of syncopated hi hats and claps — into a boombox, wait for the batteries to die, record the last ten seconds, loop it, and you’ll get the idea. It’s perfect music to use when training your sloth Barbara to give a lap dance.

Still, it was fairly amazing watching the pros go to great lengths to get the perfect shot of oOoOO’s parka, although the one next to me spent most of the set texting and updating her blog, which was maybe less insulting to the musician than when she was playing Words with Friends while Release to the Sunbird opened for the Flaming Lips the night before. Hopefully as a joke, oOoOO ended his set by throwing the bouquet of flowers from the cover of Power, Lies & Corruption into the audience.

Grimes was on after. She performs with the same sort of spread arm, ambidextrous style as the keyboardist from Battles, and met expectations. She had support from Born Gold, as well as a sinister, largely vestigial dancer, whose main move consisted of adjusting her hood. Weird.

Cursive gets candid during Noise Pop

0

Tears, booze, sex, pain, martyrdom, regret. Against my better judgment, I was singing along with the band. I was singing carefully, with my eyes closed and likely a smile creeping up in the corners of my mouth. I couldn’t help it, it came from within, as much as that particular act generally annoys me in packed settings. The swell of angular guitar and thundering drums pulled back mostly leaving higher octave vocals from a scale that slides to and fro: “Your tears are only alibis/To prove you still feel/You only feel sorry for yourself/Well get on that cross/That’s all you’re good for.”

It was mid-song (“The Martyr,” 2000’s Domestica), mid-set (Noise Pop), of Cursive’s likely sold-out performance at Great American Music Hall. I opened my eyes, scanned the room, and saw we were all singing along breathlessly. Plaid-shirted forearms thrust towards stage, fringed heads bobbing, and everyone within earshot hollering towards the center. There in the middle stood grizzled singer-guitarist Tim Kasher, leader of the Omaha-bred longtime Saddle Creek Records fixture Cursive, as well as the Good Life. Parsing his words carefully, Kasher spoke for nearly the first time after a quick-fire opening shot of beloved Domestica and Ugly Organ tracks, interspersed with brand newer, understandably less-clapped-for I Am Gemini cuts. “Let’s get candid,” he understated.

As with the folly of any continuous lovers, there was ecstasy and there was heartbreak. Dashing Kasher, the classic storyteller, the frog-croaking boozehound, inspires great emotion in his followers, only those who’ve been with him for quite some time – say, more than a decade – may question the direction of sound. Cello out, trumpet in. Perhaps it was projection, but it appeared the crowd and Kasher were mutually orgasmic during early career, well-worn classics, and likewise, faking it to get through the newer ones.

Ending the official set with “Art is Hard” (later explaining he’d be back for an encore, after taking a shot), Kasher reminded us why we were there, because making art is indeed hard and trying, and thrilling and sometimes, routine. “Fall in love to fail – to boost your CD sales.” It’s pulling all those creative types like taffy, up to fame, sideways to monotony, and sometimes, down with it, but if you don’t have a soundtrack to the downward spiral of inventive misery, well, all else is lost too: “You gotta’ sink to swim.”

 

All photos by Chris Stevens.

Die Antwoord’s athletic use of the F-word

4

When South African hip-hop duo Die Antwoord played “Fok Juule Naaiers,” the first single off latest album Ten$ion — the track that opened the group’s Noise Pop gig last night at the Regency Ballroom — for its LA manager, they were told it had some problems. The problem’s name was homophobia, their manager ventured. US audiences, he said, don’t take kindly to the F-word (I wish that were consistently true).

In response, Die Antwoord released this video. It is entitled “F-word,” the version of that term that lacks my lavish commitment to political correctness

Ninja, a.k.a. Watkin Tudor Jones, says the usage is all good because he has good homo friends, and that one of them is Hi-Tek, the group’s DJ, who opened up last night’s show with his charming “Fok Juule Naaiers” verse. Assorted lyrics below:

DJ Hi-Tek will fuck you in the ass, punk ass white boy

Look at you scared/Scared of a real man

Fuck it ’til you love me, [F-word]

So, was this song Hi-Tek’s coming out party? What a bummer party.

Of course, the crowd (sold out to the gills — I had press credentials and still had to beg, borrow, and perform mild thievery to get in) ate it all up. Die Antwood’s stage show is less weird than its videos, because matching them would entail wearing coats made of live rats, which would be hard to get through customs.

Emcee Yolandi Vi$$er without her album cover blood-soaked visage is massively sexy on stage (the whole group looks like they hit the gym hard together). By the end of the show, she had stripped down to running shoes, spandex shorts, and a midriff-bearing pink tee with “zef” printed inside a heart. She always looks like her clothes are about to fall off. Next to Ninja in his orange running shoes and signature Dark Side of the Moon underwear (infamous jiggling penis beneath), they looked like they were hosting a really agressive workout video. Ninja crowdsurfed, constantly. Let no one say that Die Antwoord doesn’t work it out on stage.

Yolandi Vi$$er at the Regency last night.

And, Ninja. Guardian photos by Caitlin Donohue

And it is a good show. Yolandi hype-chirps after Ninja’s every line. She spins around five times and picks up her verse right on cue, and the two reverse roles with Ninja cooing after her lines end. New single “I Think You’re Freaky” was a huge hit, particularly, one imagines, with the guy in a rubber pig mask sweating balls in the front row, a couple in the middle of the crowd wearing the hooded plushie onesies that Die Antwoord rocked — weirdly, always weirdly — in its “Umshini Wam” video. The front lighting blacks out after songs, silhouetting Ninja and Yolandi’s distinctive haircuts. They are unapologetic in their stage presence, crowd love.

Earlier that day, afraid of not getting on the list for the show, I lurked outside Upper Playground’s Fifty24SF gallery, where Ninja had spent the day painting the walls with the black chicken scratches and Evil Boy engorged penis characters that now adorn Die Antwoord merch, stage sets, and his own body. At 4 p.m., there was a line of Die Antwoord fans lined up to greet Yolandi and Ninja. You could cut the line if you bought a $200 Evil Boy latex toy.

Few people did. First-in-liner Stephanie Farrell, who came straight from school for the signing didn’t. But she got what she wanted out of her wait: a really awkward experience with her idols. 

“What was your interaction with them like?” I asked her while looking at the Die Antwoord’s signatures, written in her wire-bound, lined notebook. 

“They didn’t say anything, it was really awkward. I was like ‘hey,’ and they were like ‘hey.'”

“But are you still a fan?”

“Absolutely. I didn’t expect it to be a normal experience whatsoever.”

In the “[F-word]” video, Ninja says that people from the United States who are upset by the way they use that and other (N-word) offensive bullshit should quit being a little less PC and learn from “your brothers and sisters here in the dark depths of Africa,” where a local saying is translated into “we are one.” He then grabs his Evil Boy dolls, a black one and a white one, and knocks their monster toy dicks together while repeating the “we are one” phrase in a high-pitched voice. “That’s why they say South Africa is a rainbow nation.”

Weird. 

Photos of Die Antwoord’s Ninja painting the inside of the Fifty24SF gallery are by John Orvis

Whither indie?

4

MUSIC How does one trace the warp and woof of Bay Area indie rock’s silky, sick, multihued tapestry — with ticket stubs to long-ago shows, holey concert T’s, or grainy snapshots of sweat-swathed guitar players, red eyes gleaming in a haze of smoke machine emissions? Perhaps one way is to chart SF indie’s course from the first Noise Pop to the latest 20th anniversary edition, teasing out the tenuous connections between the first fest’s headliner Overwhelming Colorfast, reunited this year, and newish local poobah Young Prisms.

The pinging, ringing unifier might be found in the cascades of distortion, the buzzsaw guitars, used to drastically different ends. Fighting it out, too, beneath Overwhelming Colorfast’s fleet-footed crunch and Young Prisms’ smoggy overhang of echo-chamber shoegaze are clearly discernible, sensitive hearts, pulsing through the dulcet vocal lines and delivered with perfectly imperfect, threadbare falsettos. You can hear the ties that bind the two bands in the tide of romanticism and even sentimentality running under OC’s onslaught, YP’s haze.

Back in their 1991 to ’96 day, I confess I lost track of Overwhelming Colorfast: I don’t think I even saw them during their brief lifetime, although the music-snob friends respectfully granted that OC were kind of OK. So it feels thoroughly weird to play catch up with the most praised recording, Moonlight and Castanets (Headhunter/Cargo, 1996), by Antioch’s finest. Just as Overwhelming Colorfast was breaking up (only to reassemble, in time, as Oranger), Moonlight came along. Sprawling and ambitious with a bit of everything, it evokes the exploding mind of a particularly imaginative punk/rock fan, stuck in the suburbs and succored on chicken-fried ’70s and ’80s FM rock and moshpit-ready Amerindie hardcore bands that could be your life.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C7xH5axRHM4

Of course, much like Young Prisms, accusations of derivativeness dogged Overwhelming Colorfast, whose inspiration and albatross was Hüsker Dü. Founding vocalist-guitarist Bob Reed couldn’t help it — he had clearly ingested far too much SST, with a very special emphasis on 1984’s Zen Arcade and Double Nickels on a Dime and 1985’s I Don’t Want to Grow Up. But listening to Moonlight now —particularly its forward-thrust first side — those snap dismissals and facile comparisons seem unfair.

The side starts “Starcrunch” with its heavy-outta-the-gate guitars that match Bob Mould and J. Mascis lick for lick, moves through “Mickey’s Lament,” which goes Weezer one better with its smart-kid, enjambed vocal delivery, rhythm guitar chug, and Stooges-y impaired piano drone, and closes the tender, breathy “Last Song” with a back-and-forth guitar line that captures the indecision as Reed sings, “Got a stupid note here / It’s from me to you. It’s all I could do / Thought I might just toss it / But it took so long. Tell me if it’s wrong.” Eventually a way-too-exuberant fusillade of guitars busts in, attempting to obliterate uncertainty: it’s as if Reed peered into the overwhelming darkness— wondering whether he should hold this awkward note and whether Colorfast could last—then decided, “Fuck it.”

The precarious, ground-shifting nature of SF indie — so often fielding copy-cat accusations, so far from the so-called music industry centers — also touches Young Prisms, also reared in SF’s bedroom communities yet looking to influences further afield, across the Atlantic, in the form of My Bloody Valentine and the Jesus and Mary Chain. Like Colorfast, the outfit has also coped with its share of membership switcheroos: the title of debut Friends For Now might have foretold the departure of guitarist Jason Hendardy and the arrival of vocalist-guitarist Ashley Thomas, whose vocals along with vocalist-keyboardist Stephanie Hodapp’s, pushes Prisms further toward the vaguely feminized, sonically diffuse space of the Cocteau Twins.

Songs like “Gone,” off YP’s upcoming second LP, In Between (Kanine), hinge on nursery rhyme-like vocal lines and a fluid wall of rhythm guitars against which a singular New Order-like guitar line dances. Guitars are used as pretty, pointillistic devices, seamlessly incorporated with washes of synth. People come and go, but here, sonic elements coexist in a more generalized, less personalized harmony, where lyrics are obscured and vocals are used as effects, rejecting the jolts — and listen-to-me force — of Reed’s more intimate, ungainly urgency. Do the Prisms reflect a kind of indie progressiveness — an evolution from the punky and individualistic to the ambient and collective? For answers, revisit In Between in 15 years.

 

YOUNG PRISMS

With Melted Toys, Tambo Rays, Preteen

Weds/22, 7 p.m., $14

Cafe Du Nord

2170 Market, SF

(415) 861-5016

2012.noisepop.com

OVERWHELMING COLORFAST

With Oranger, Slouching Stars, Peppercorn

Sat/25, 8 p.m., $12

Bottom of the Hill

1233 17th St., SF

(415) 621-4455

2012.noisepop.com

Spanning time with the Flaming Lips

0

I ran into a temporal anomaly while driving. My first warning sign was the police cruiser with one headlight flashing its sirens behind me. Wrong place at the wrong time? Well, I was getting pulled over in Sebastopol on the way to Richmond from SF, but when the cop told me I was doing 78 in a 55, it suggested one thing —speeding.

And speeding isn’t spatial — location is irrelevant — you are precisely where you should be, just too fucking soon. The cop seemed hopeful that he could help me, but as he took my papers and ran back to his car I knew he had abandoned me to the crush of an impending temporal singularity, as time began to move in slow motion.

Slow motion. Some refer to it as time dilation. The sensation that a certain duration lasts longer than it should. The Flaming Lips have a song about it, called, obviously, “Slow Motion.” It goes like this:

Hey, come on over.

You know the day is going slower.

It takes a year, to make a day.

And I’m feeling like a float in the Macy’s Day parade.

Or like a boat, out on the ocean. 
I’m drifting round in slow motion.

LSD and other narcotics aside, time generally doesn’t work that way. Compared to your life so far, each additional day is a smaller proportion. Time telescopes, you speed up, it goes faster. Slowing down is the opposite, unnatural. Sitting in a car waiting for the cop to come back (Is he going to search me?) or laying on a couch with friends trying not to cry — whenever time slows down — it’s unnerving.

You only know this much about “Slow Motion” — an alternate track from The Soft Bulletin not released in the US — because you saw the Flaming Lips play it once. But which time? Not at that fair in Santa Rosa. That one had a rave after. Not at the Fox Theater. That was the one where you slow danced with your girlfriend (at the time) until the staff asked you to leave. At Sasquatch, there in the Gorge? They did play The Soft Bulletin then, but it was rushed. That guy stood behind you — when Wayne Coyne was recounting Steven Drozd almost losing his hand and Michael Ivins being in a car crash — screaming “Play-a-song!” No, there just hadn’t been time.

And time, for the Flaming Lips, is important. Because as a band — one that has been through all sorts of well documented shit — the Flaming Lips know the value of time (particularly borrowed) and have made it their work to not just create music but get into the complete manufacture of moments. Which is a tricky business, because moments are bastards. Take all the pictures you want of the blinding lights, the beautiful costumed kids, the confetti cannons or all the other individual weapons that the Flaming Lips use to wage musical psychedelic war on time, and the moment still might not fit in a shutter, no matter how you slice a second.

It was at Bimbo’s. Not the time they played Noise Pop a few years back, but more recently. They were playing The Soft Bulletin, and taking their time. Hitting every single track from every single version of the album. Not quite slow motion, but close. When was that?

It was the night after the couch. When you were watching Blade Runner on TV, just the end part. Where the maniac with white hair is running around, trying to knock some sense into the other idiot character, who hardly even realizes he’s alive most of the time. And it starts getting heavy. Meaningless inevitability; the crushing force of time. Fucking tears in the rain. Before you know it, you’re happy it’s basic cable, because sometimes a commercial interruption is all that’s keeping you from crying.

It was the night after that. The Lips were going slower for sure, but still way too fast. The moments going by before you’re ready. Before you know it, they are on to other songs, and “Slow Motion” is somewhere in the past, back there with your best friends on the couch, never to return.

The band is getting ready to play something else, Steven readying both miraculous hands on another instrument while Michael stands ready, as ever, on the bass. You want to reach into your bag to take the camera out again, but you resist the urge. It won’t capture the cold press of the air canisters at your back anyway. Or, for that matter, the hookah scented air from the smoke machines. And anyway, if you’re taking pictures during “Feeling Yourself Disintegrate,” you’re probably irretrievably lost.

And suddenly, everything has changed. The cop comes back to the car. Tells me my record is clear, that he just marked 65 on the ticket, because I was didn’t know where I was. He gives me some directions, regarding the roads. I don’t really listen (but do thank him and let him know about his broken headlight.) I drive forward, knowing exactly where I am. I was at a Flaming Lips show, and now I’m driving home.  

Rep Clock

0

Schedules are for Wed/22-Tues/28 except where noted. Director and year are given when available. Double features are marked with a •. All times p.m. unless otherwise specified.

ARTISTS’ TELEVISION ACCESS 992 Valencia, SF; www.atasite.org. $6-10. “Mad Dance,” films by Nina Fonoroff, Ken Paul Rosenthal, and Lewis Klahr, Sat, 8. “Short Sharp Shock: 3rd I International Shorts,” Sun, 1:30.

BAY THEATER Aquarium of the Bay, Embarcadero at Beach, SF; www.aquariumofthebay.org. $10-20. “An Evening of Sailing Films,” Fri, 6.

CASTRO 429 Castro, SF; (415) 621-6120, www.castrotheatre.com. $7.50-10. “Two Sides of a Coin: Kirk Douglas:” •Paths of Glory (Kubrick, 1957), Wed, 3, 7; Ace in the Hole (Wilder, 1951), Wed, 4:45, 8:45. Melancholia (von Trier, 2011), Thurs, 2:30, 5:15, 8. Fantasia (Walt Disney Productions, 1940), Fri-Sun, 2, 5, 8.

CHRISTOPHER B. SMITH RAFAEL FILM CENTER 1118 Fourth St, San Rafael; (415) 454-1222, www.cafilm.org. $6.75-10.25. “Rafael Film Club” with guest Ruthe Stein, Thurs, 1. Chico and Rita (Trueba, 2010), call for dates and times. “2012 Oscar Nominated Short Films,” narrative and documentary (separate admission), call for dates and times.

HERBST THEATRE 301 Van Ness, SF; www.sfopera.com. Free (advance registration requested at www.sfopera.com/girlmovie). The Girl of the Golden West — The Movie!, performed by the San Francisco Opera (2010), Sat-Sun, 1:30, 3:30.

JEWISH COMMUNITY CENTER OF THE EAST BAY 1414 Walnut, Berk; (510) 848-0237. $6-8. Joanna (Falk, 2010), Thurs, 7:30.

MECHANICS’ INSTITUTE 57 Post, SF; (415) 393-0100, rsvp@milibrary.org. $10. “CinemaLit Film Series: Hollywood Dames: Beauty and Brains:” The Barefoot Contessa (Mankiewicz, 1954), Fri, 6.

“NOISE POP FILM SERIES” Artists’ Television Access, 992 Valencia, SF; 2012.noisepop.com/film. $8-10. Bob and the Monster (Bahruth, 2011), Wed, 7; Hit So Hard (Ebersole, 2011), Wed, 9; Blank City (Danhier, 2010), Thurs, 7; N.A.S.A.: The Spirit of Apollo (Garon and Spiegel, 2009), Thurs, 9. Also AMC Loews Metreon 16, Fourth St at Mission, SF. $11.50. Re: Generation Music Project (Bar-Lev, 2011), Thurs, 8. Also Roxie, 3117 16th St, SF. $10. Cure for Pain: The Mark Sandman Story (Bralver and Ferino, 2011), Fri, 7; Andrew Bird: Fever Year (Aranda, 2011), Fri, 9; Upside Down: The Creation Records Story (O’Connor, 2010), Sat, 7; Dragonslayer (Petterson, 2011), Sat, 9:15.

PACIFIC FILM ARCHIVE 2575 Bancroft, Berk; (510) 642-5249, bampfa.berkeley.edu. $5.50-9.50. “Documentary Voices:” “”Making It (Un)Real: Animated Documentary Shorts,” Wed, 7. “Dizzy Heights: Silent Cinema and Life in the Air:” A Trip to Mars (Holger-Madsen, 1918), Thurs, 7; High Treason (Elvey, 1929), Fri, 7; The Mystery of the Eiffel Tower (Duvivier, 1927), Sat, 6; “Fantasies of Flight: Animation and Comedy Shorts,” Sun, 2. “Howard Hawks: The Measure of Man:” Barbary Coast (1935), Fri, 8:45; His Girl Friday (1940), Tues, 7. “Austere Perfectionism: The Films of Robert Bresson:” L’argent (1983), Sat, 8:35.

ROXIE 3117 and 3125 16th St, SF; (415) 863-1087, www.roxie.com. $6.50-10. SF IndieFest, Wed-Thurs. Visit www.sfindie.com for complete schedule. Straight Outta Hunters Point 2 (Epps, 2012), Feb 24-March 1, 7, 8:45 (also Sat-Sun, 3:15, 5). “Up the Oscars!”, Academy Awards viewing party, Sun, 3:45. This event, $15.

SF FILM SOCIETY CINEMA 1746 Post, SF; www.sffs.org. $10-11. Margaret (Lonergan, 2011), Wed-Thurs, 2, 5:30, 8:30. Roadie (Cuesta, 2011), Feb 24-March 1, 2:30, 5, 7, 9:15.

VORTEX ROOM 1082 Howard, SF; www.myspace.com/thevortexroom. $7 donation. “The Second Coming of the Vortex Room:” Privilege (Watkins, 1967), and The Devils (Russell, 1971), Thurs, 8.

YERBA BUENA CENTER FOR THE ARTS 701 Mission, SF; (415) 978-2787, www.ybca.org. $6-8. “Bros Before Hos: Sex in the Shadows,” presented by Albert Steg, Thurs, 7:30.

Our Weekly Picks: February 22-27

0

WEDNESDAY 22

Way Behind the Music

Famous rockers may have a way with riffs, but their grammar and syntax can often prove cringe-worthy. And yet, their inflated egos and turmoil-filled musings within literary efforts provide insight into worlds otherwise unknown. This, my friends, is the perfect set-up for an evening of music obsessed over-sharing. At the return of Litquake and Noise Pop’s collaborative event, Way Behind the Music, a collection of esteemed local musicians and writers will read from the autobiographies of Ozzy Osbourne, Sammy Hagar, Jewel, Slash, Ted Nugent, Marianne Faithfull, Angela Bowie, Jim Hutton (boyfriend of Freddie Mercury), and Christopher Ciccone (brother of Madonna). The group on stage — which includes Penelope Houston, Carletta Sue Kay, Jennifer Maerz, and more — will extract tales of Olympic-level drug use, epic bands fights, and rock star trials and tribulations, giving the audience just a taste of that wild ride to infamy. (Emily Savage)

7 p.m., $15

Make-Out Room

3225 22nd St., SF

(415) 647-2888

www.makeoutroom.com

 

THURSDAY 23

Big Black Delta

Big Black Delta is the solo project of Los Angeles maestro Jonathan Bates, lead singer of lo-fi rock band Mellowdrone. Legend has it Bates launched BBD after buying a used laptop off frequent Nine Inch Nails collaborator Alessandro Cortini and using it to create electronic soundscapes. Good thing too, because BBDLP1 is a crafty compilation made up of equal parts power and panache. “Huggin & Kissin” sounds so aggressive, it’s as if Depeche Mode’s synths decided to take steroids and beat up little kids. On the flip side, “Dreary Moon” with Morgan Kibby (the Romanovs, M83) has all the ethereal, vocal playfulness of an Air track. Bates brings in dueling drummers Mahsa Zargaran and Amy Wood for the live show. (Kevin Lee)

With New Diplomat, Aaron Axelsen & Nako 9 p.m., $10–<\d>$12 Rickshaw Stop 155 Fell, SF (415) 861-2011 www.rickshawstop.com

 

FRIDAY 24

“More Light”

If you’re up for a dose of reifying pessimism, check out “More Light” —a joint exhibition featuring new works by Francesco Deiana and Lafe Harley Eaves. In an effort to explore how society diverts humans from primordial joys, Deiana creates ballpoint pen drawings and images on photographic paper that juxtapose society’s adulterating tendencies with natural beauty (e.g. a drawing of an impenetrable brick wall flushed with a photograph of the ocean). Eaves, who’s said he views the world as “one dark joke after another,” makes line and pattern narratives that delve into the occult, religion, and the psychedelic. He also focuses on illustrating human duality and the uncertainty of relationships. (Mia Sullivan)

7 p.m. opening reception, free

Park Life

220 Clement, SF

(415) 386-7275

www.parklifestore.com

 

Image Comic Expo

With San Francisco’s WonderCon moving to Anaheim while Moscone Center South undergoes renovation, Image Comic Expo in Oakland is the primary destination for Bay Area comic book nerdery this season. Instead of focusing on Marvel and DC — the comics industry’s “Big Two” — the Expo bills itself as a “celebration of creator-owned comics.” Exhibitors include a number of independent publishers besides Berkeley-based Image Comics. Guests include Image luminaries Rob Liefeld, Todd McFarlane, and Robert Kirkman (The Walking Dead), plus fan favorites Jonathan Hickman (FF, Pax Romana), Joe Casey (Gødland), Brian K. Vaughan (Y: The Last Man, ABC’s Lost) and Blair Butler. (Sam Stander)

Fri/24, 3-8 p.m.; Sat/25, 10 a.m.-6 p.m.; Sun/26, 10 a.m.-5 p.m., $20–$150

Oakland Convention Center 550 10th St., Oakl.

www.imagecomicexpo.com

 

Dave Holland Overtone Quartet

English bassist Dave Holland came to the United States at the request of the legendary Miles Davis and became part of music lore as part of the quartet that birthed jazz fusion and its opus, Bitches Brew (Columbia). Holland has since worked with a number of jazz masters including Herbie Hancock, Stan Getz, Thelonious Monk and Chick Corea. When Holland was coming into his own as a musician in the 1970s, the rest of the Overtone Quartet were just entering into the world. But saxophonist Chris Potter (a frequent Holland collaborator), drummer Eric Harland (a SFJazz Collective performer) and pianist Jason Moran (a MacArthur Fellowship “Genius”) have established themselves as potent forces in their own right. (Lee)

8 p.m., $25–$65

Palace of Fine Arts

3301 Lyon, SF

(415) 567-6642

www.sfjazz.org

 

“Oracle and Enigma”

For a while, thanks to a series of festivals organized by producer Brechin Flournoy, San Francisco was the place in the country to see Butoh. The excitement and puzzlement surrounding the art has died down as it has simply become another form of international dance. So it should be good to again see one of its original practitioners, the Kyoto-born Katsura Kan who in 1997 moved to Thailand and has since become one of those peripatetic choreographer-dancers who takes inspiration from wherever he alights. As part of his winter residency at CounterPULSE, Kan and Shoshana Green will present “Oracle and Enigma” which they describe as “a journey towards the celestial horizon”. Sounds like Butoh . (Rita Felciano)

Fri/24-Sat/25, 8 p.m., $18–<\d>$20

CounterPULSE

1310 Mission, SF

(800) 350-8850

www.counterpulse.org

 

SATURDAY 25

Monster Jam

A stampede of horsepower comes thundering into the Bay Area today with the Monster Jam series of monster truck races and events, featuring 16 ground-shaking custom creations such as the long-running fan favorite “Grave Digger,” which is celebrating its 30th anniversary this year. Fans can get up close and personal with the burly behemoths during the afternoon “Party In The Pits” before the night’s main events, where the 10,000 pound muscle machines will fly through the air at distances up to 130 feet, reach heights up to 35 feet in the air, and of course, gloriously smash a series a puny regular cars. (Sean McCourt)

3-6 p.m. pit party, 7 p.m. main event; $12.50–<\d>$32, $125 for total access pass

O.co Coliseum

7000 Coliseum Way, Oakl.

(800) 745-3000

www.monsterjam.com

 

“Cum and Glitter: A Live Sex Show”

Perhaps you’re one of those people — that yes, do exist — left nonplussed by your standard strip club experience. Let’s face it, fried chicken buffets and atrocious choreography amplified by glitter platform heels don’t do it for us all. For you, then, queer pornographer Maxine Holloway’s new monthly sex show. Holloway, a vintage-loving local coquette, has bolstered her sex industry chops heading Madison Young’s women’s only POV website and used her connections to line up a crack cast for Cum and Glitter’s opening night: Kitty Stryker, Courtney Trouble, and Annika Amour among other superlative sex workers. Live cello music. Specialty cocktails named after the performers. Class. (Caitlin Donohue)

9 p.m., $30–$55 individuals, $50 couples

RSVP for location

www.cumandglitter.com

 

SUNDAY 26

“Up the Oscars!”

For a particular breed of movie fiend, the Academy Awards are more like a sporting event than a glamorous celebration of Hollywood. You know the type: catcalling the screen like they’re giving a blind ref the business (2006 flashback: “Crash? Are you fucking kidding me? Brokeback Mountain forever!”) This year’s ceremony will no doubt evoke its own array of passionate responses to awkward presenters and awkward gowns, omissions from the Tribute to the Dead, faux-surprised winners who unfurl pre-scripted lists of people to thank (“My agent! My masseuse!”), etc. The Roxie’s annual “Up the Oscars!” bash is aimed squarely at those who enjoy cheering and jeering the gold man in equal measure. D.I.Y. drinking games optional. (Cheryl Eddy)

3:45 p.m., $15

Roxie Theater

3117 16th St., SF

www.roxie.com

 

Stardust Sunday

Cover band? Try cover cult. The First Church of the Sacred Silversexual takes all the Christ allusions David Bowie made with The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars and The Man Who Fell to Earth, exorcising one little bit — Jesus. The resulting mass is a blasphemous celebration of the 65-year-young rock God’s music. With as many members as Bowie has personas, all fully embracing their deity’s love of costume, the Church’s service has the campy theatricality of The Rocky Horror Picture Show and all the sparkle of a Ken Russell movie. (Ryan Prendiville)

With Space Cowboys DJs Mancub and 8Ball

8 p.m., $5

Public Works

161 Erie, SF

(415) 932-0955

www.publicsf.com

 

The Dodos

Listening to the Dodos kind of makes you feel like you’re part of a drum march that’s heading down a sunny country road via Brooklyn. Logan Kroeber, who’s been known to play a drum kit sans bass and to tape a tambourine to his foot, creates catchy rhythms that compel you to dance frenetically (really, it’s unavoidable), while lead vocalist Meric Long finger-picks an acoustic guitar and traverses the octaves with deep, introspective lyrics you can’t help Googling. This San Francisco-based indie folk duo most recently released fourth album, No Color (Frenchkiss) last year, and is closing out Noise Pop this year with what will likely be a memorable performance. (Sullivan)

With Au, Cannons and Clouds, Here Here

7 p.m., $20

Great American Music Hall

859 O’Farrell, SF

(415) 885-0750

www.gamh.com

 

MONDAY 27

Leslie and the LY’s

Long known for her 1980s-esque minimal dance-pop numbers encased in stretchy gold lame (referred to in “Gold Pants”), and even longer for her extensive bejeweled sweater collection (ahem, “Gem Sweater”), Leslie of Leslie and the LY’s boasts a newish additional talent to add to the mix: wedding officiant. The Ames, IA-based confetti-puke performance artist began officiating weddings when Iowa voted yes on gay marriage in 2009. The weddings she oversees are said to twinkle with her typical megawatt star quality — there’s even a documentary about one affair called Married in Spandex — and Mother Gem performs a personalized dance number for each lucky couple. While she may not be hosting any impromptu weddings during her appearance at Rickshaw this week, the world just feels more glamorous knowing that she could (for this, we listen to “Power Cuddle”). (Savage)

With Pennyhawk, Ramona & the Swimsuits

8 p.m., $13

Rickshaw Stop

(415) 861-2011

155 Fell, SF

www.rickshawstop.com

 

TUESDAY 28

Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks

Following 2010’s high profile Pavement reunion tour — which gave fans of the ’90s alternative rockers a chance to see the group live for the first or last time (as well as reportedly giving some of the members funds to pay off some financial debts) — leader Stephen Malkmus returned to the studio with his band the Jicks to record an album with Beck on board as producer. The result, Mirror Traffic, carries over the tour’s energy, and is the closest thing to a Terror Twilight follow-up to date. And as showcased by the Jicks’s all-too-short performance at the last Treasure Island Music Festival, Malkmus remains the slacker king of the nonchalant guitar solo. (Prendiville)

With Nurses

8 p.m., $20

Slim’s

333 11th St., SF

(415) 255-0333

www.slimspresents.com 

The Guardian listings deadline is two weeks prior to our Wednesday publication date. To submit an item for consideration, please include the title of the event, a brief description of the event, date and time, venue name, street address (listing cross streets only isn’t sufficient), city, telephone number readers can call for more information, telephone number for media, and admission costs. Send information to Listings, the Guardian Building, 135 Mississippi St., SF, CA 94107; fax to (415) 487-2506; or e-mail (paste press release into e-mail body — no text attachments, please) to listings@sfbg.com. Digital photos may be submitted in jpeg format; the image must be at least 240 dpi and four inches by six inches in size. We regret we cannot accept listings over the phone.

On the Cheap

0

On the Cheap listings are compiled by Soojin Chang. Submit items for the listings at listings@sfbg.com. For further information on how to submit items for the listings, see Picks.

WEDNESDAY 22

“An Edward Gorey Birthday Party” Cartoon Art Museum, 655 Mission, SF; (415) 227-8666, www.cartoonart.org. 6 p.m.-8 p.m., free. Edward Gorey: a cool guy who not only made pop-up matchbox-sized books by hand, but also redefined the macabre nonsense that makes up children’s literature. Come celebrate the world-renowned author’s birthday with an evening of readings, interpretations, and cake.

BAY AREA

“Path to Prison Reform: Freeing Jails from Racism Berkeley-East Baby Gray Panthers” North Berkeley Senior Center, 1901 Hearst, Berk; (510) 548-9696, berkeleygraypathers.mysite.com. 1:30 p.m., free. Plenty of things go down in jails that are neither documented nor resolved. Join ACLU members and former prisoners in a discussion of how racism may be the culprit behind prison brutality.

THURSDAY 23

“A Mnemosyne Slumber Party” Mechanic’s Institute, 57 Post, SF; (415) 393-0101, www.mililibrary.org. 6 p.m., $12. Mnemosyne is a free online journal that features art, fiction, and nonfiction work dedicated to the science of memory and the mind. Come to the premiere of their newest “Sleep and Dreams” issue, stay for a night of live readings and artist appearances.

FRIDAY 24

“Diversity and Evolution of Hummingbirds” City College of San Francisco Ocean Campus, 50 Phelan, SF; (415) 239-3475, ccsf.edu/upcomingevents. Noon-1 p.m., free. Hitchcock ruined birds for some of us, but for those who still find these flying feathered creatures non-terrifying, this is a chance to join ornithology instructor Joe Morlan as he discusses the many birds he saw in his adventures in California, Arizona, Belize, Costa Rica, Trinidad, and Ecuador.

BAY AREA

Oakland Food Not Bombs benefit show Revolution Cafe, 1612 Seventh St., Oakl; (510) 625-0149, www.revcafeoak.com. 7 p.m., $4-$13. Food Not Bombs is all about non-violence, consensus decision-making, and tasty vegetarian meals, distributed for free to the community. What’s not to love? Support the group’s efforts this weekend in a benefit show featuring local bands Nate Porter and Wagon Boat.

SATURDAY 25

“Noise Pop Culture Club” Public Works, 161 Erie, SF; (415) 932-0955, www.publicsf.com. 11:30 a.m.-6:30 p.m., $10. Noise Pop would not be possible without the visionary artists in the music, film, art, design, technology, and food communities. This event features a discussion by Johnny Jewel of Glass Candy, artwork by Grimes, an Ableton Live workshop with Thavius Beck, a talk on animation by Aaron Rose and Syd Garon – plus a bounce lesson taught by New Orleans bounce belle, Big Freedia.

Punk Swap Meet Speakeasy Ales and Lagers, 1195 Evans, SF; (415) 642-3371, www.goodbeer.com. 1

p.m.-6 p.m., free. If you thought flea markets were just for old knitting ladies, you have never been more wrong. Punk Swap Meet has tables selling records, zines, tapes, DIY crafts, clothing, and is open to all ages. There will be food by Eagle Dog, with vegetarian and vegan options available, and brew on tap for $3.

San Francisco Crystal Fair Fort Mason Center Building A, 99 Marina, SF; (415) 383-7837, www.crystalfair.com. 10 a.m.-6 p.m. (also Sun/26, 10 a.m.-4 p.m.), $6 for two-day admission. Is your chakra out of sync? Not to worry. Pacific Crystal Guild is coming with over 40 exhibitors carrying crystals from Nepal, Bali, Afghanistan, and China.

SF Flea Herbst Pavilion at Fort Mason Center, One Buchanan, SF; (415) 990-0600, www.sf-flea.com. Sat., 11 am.1-6 p.m. (also Sun/26, 11 a.m.-5 p.m.), $5. SF Flea is a modern public market that brings together local design, style, food, art, and entertainment.

BAY AREA

Miss and Mister Oakland Punk Rock Pageant East Bay Rats Club House, 3025 San Pablo, Oakl; (510) 830-6466, www.eastbayrats.com. 8:30 p.m., $5 (free for contestants). Who says you have to be a six-year-old from Georgia or proclaim world peace in a bikini to be in a pageant? Have your long-awaited tiara moment by showcasing how swiftly you can open a beer bottle with your teeth at Oakland’s very own punk rock pageant.

Stories of Old San Francisco Chinatown reading Eastwind Books of Berkeley, 2066 University, Berk; (510) 548-2350, www.asiabookcenter.com. 3 p.m., free. A long walk through Chinatown conjures ghosts – one can’t help cogitating on these streets’ secrets and history. Join Lyle Jan, a San Francisco native, for a journey through his youth spent growing up in Chinatown.

SUNDAY 26

San Francisco Bookstore and Chocolate Crawl Meet at Green Apple Books, 506 Clement, SF. (415) 387-2272, www.greenapplebooks.com. Noon-6 p.m., free. Go on a walking tour of some of San Francisco’s finest bookstores, buy some books, and eat a lot of chocolate.

The Fairy Dogfather signing Books Inc., 3515 California, SF; (415) 221-3666, booksinc.net/SFLaurel. 3 p.m., free. In Alexandra Day’s new book, a dyslexic boy asks for a fairy dogfather instead of a fairy godfather. And we’re so glad he did, because the combination of a fedora-wearing dog-friend and a confused child makes for one adorable picture book.

MONDAY 27

Guitar Zero: The New Musician and the Science of Learning reading Booksmith, 1644 Haight, SF; (415) 863-8688, www.booksmith.com. 7:30 p.m., free. Is it really true that an old dog can never learn a new trick? In his book Guitar Zero, NYU professor Gary Marcus chronicles his own experience learning to play the guitar at age 38, and finds that there isn’t necessarily a cut-off age for mastering a new skill.

TUESDAY 28

“Pritzker Family Lecture” with Claude Lanzmann and Regina Longo Jewish Community Center of San Francisco, 3200 California, SF. (415) 292-1200, www.jccsf.org. 7 p.m., free with reservation. Lanzmann not only lived through the German occupation of France and fought with the French Resistance, but helped document the whole thing as the editor of Les Temps Modernes, Jean Paul Sartre’s political-literary journal. Come pick his brain as he discusses his new memoir, The Patagonian Hare, and his film, Shoah.

Localized Appreesh: Churches

1

Localized Appreesh is our weekly thank-you column to the musicians that make the Bay. To be considered, contact emilysavage@sfbg.com.
 
There’s a whole lot of religious imagery going on within new local guitar-and-drums superduo Churches. Most vivid, beyond the obvious, is the guilty, desperate strain in mesmerizing first single, “Save Me,” and its jittery remixes. The track and remixes (available on Bandcamp) are both pleading and sensual, evoking the classic good/evil ecstasy of sacred customs.

Musically, the band – made up of Caleb Nichols (Grand Lake, Port O’Brien) and Pat Spurgeon (Rogue Wave) – arouses memories of ’90s bedroom angst; “Save Me,” recorded at Tiny Telephone, utilizes this vibe and mixes it with distorted pop, repetitive calls, and lightly-employed synth. Second single “Feel Alright,” released today, follows the garage trail deeper, occasionally evoking an early Nirvana-lite.

What better way to showcase an auspicious local act than with a slot during Noise Pop? Churches plays Bottom of the Hill this week with Fresh & Onlys. But first, they gave us the rundown on a new life as Churches.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0AH9XkyhkQE

Year and location of origin: September 2011. San Francisco and Oakland. Tiny Telephone and Harlan Street.

Band name origin: I came up with the name while on tour with WATERS (I was playing bass with them). I remember that Van and Niko and I were talking about what my next music thing should be and we came up with the idea for Churches, which is the English translation of my middle name, Kirke, but plural.

Band motto: Aequalis opus aequalis stipendium.

Description of sound in 10 words or less: Re-experience teen angst through distortion and chorus plus loud drums.

Instrumentation: Guitar, Singing, Drums + (a little) Bass and Moog.

Most recent release:  “Feel Alright”  – a self-released single, out today, Feb. 21.

Best part about life as a Bay Area band: Lots of great venues, lots of great musicians and studios.

Worst part about life as a Bay Area band: Living here can be expensive. Being a musician can be expensive. Many musicians are poor. So, the math is against some of us.

First album ever purchased: Michael Jackson Dangerous.

Most recent album purchased/borrowed from the Web:
Cloud Nothings, Attack on Memory.

Favorite local eatery and dish: 
Super Duper on Market and Castro.  Best burger in the WORLD.

Noise Pop: Churches
With Fresh and Onlys, Talkdemonic, Disappears
Wed/22, 8 p.m., $12
Bottom of the Hill
www.bottomofthehill.com

Shorts: More top picks from Noise Pop

1

SNOB THEATER

Noise Pop isn’t all studied, somber plucking, ethereal soundscapes, or morose, twisting in the night song lyrics; there are solid yucks to be had. Kata Rokkar and Noise Pop are presenting another installment of Snob Theater at the Noise Pop-Up Shop pre-main events. Hosted by comedian-music blogger Shawn Robbins, it’s a mashup of indie rockers and indie comics, a real giggle fest for the musically-inclined. Brendon Walsh (Comedy Central, Jimmy Kimmel), Dave Thomason (SF Sketchfest), Janine Brito (Laughter Against The Machine), and Chris Thayer (Bridgetown Comedy Festival) bring the comedy, rockers the Ferocious Few and Bobby Ebola and the Children MacNuggits bring the raucous tunage. (Emily Savage)

Feb. 17, 8 p.m., $10

Noise Pop-Up Shop

34 Page, SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

DIE ANTWOORD

 The chances that this South African freak-hop duo will roll onstage with LED-tricked wheelchairs, wearing onesies that make flat-topped emcee Ninja and devil-pixie singer Yo-Landi Vi$$er look like plushies are not high — the two already worked that look for the “Umshini Wam” video, accessorizing with a telescope-sized joint and firearms. No matter, this hot-ticket sell-out show will have a gonzo pack of hipsters twerking to the weird-ass lyrics like there’s no tomorrow. Die Antwoord, like most hip-hop groups these days, is plagued by questions of authenticity (it reps for South Africa’s working-class demographic that its members may not actually hail from), but the performative aspect of its schtick makes it a cultural artifact regardless of where Ninja went to high school. Hot tip for those that dig a long shot: keep one eye peeled for Celine Dion. Die Antwoord’s pegged her as their dream collaborator. Weirdos. (Caitlin Donohue)

Feb. 22, 7 p.m., sold out

Regency Ballroom

1300 Van Ness, SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

HIT SO HARD: THE LIFE AND NEAR-DEATH STORY OF DRUMMER PATTY SCHEMEL

Along with Last Days Here, currently screening as part of the San Francisco Independent Film Festival, Hit So Hard is one of the most inspiring rock docs in recent memory. Patty Schemel was the drummer for Hole circa Live Through This, coolly keeping the beat amid Courtney Love’s frequent Lollapalooza-stage meltdowns after Kurt Cobain’s 1994 death. Offstage, however, she was neck-deep in substance abuse, weathering several rounds of rehab even after the fatal overdose of Hole bandmate Kristen Pfaff just months after Cobain (who appears here in Schemel’s own remarkable home video footage). P. David Ebersole’s film gathers insight from many key figures in Schemel’s life — including her mother, who has the exact voice of George Costanza’s mother on Seinfeld, and a garishly made-up, straight-talking Love — but most importantly, from Schemel herself, who is open and funny even when talking about the perils of drug addiction, of the heartbreak of being a gay teen in a small town, and the ultimate triumph of being a rock ‘n’ roll survivor. If you miss Hit So Hard at Noise Pop, it’ll be back around for a San Francisco theatrical run starting April 27. (Cheryl Eddy)

Feb. 22, 9 p.m., $10

Artists’ Television Access

992 Valencia, SF

2012.noisepop.com/film

 

GRIMES

After listening to Grimes on heavy rotation for the past couple years I still find myself mesmerized by Claire Boucher’s voice. It leaps and falls, circles words in repetitive motions, ciphering their sonic texture and tone into a perpetual undoing of sound. Grimes consistently induces this siren effect, inhabiting that mysteriously seductive threshold somewhere between waking life and dream world. Its third full-length, Visions (Arbutus/4AD), is no different. It continues to draw resources from spectral pop wherever it can, from the processed rhythms underpinning a constellation of electronic dance genres, to the gushing melodies of New Age cassette tapes and 1990s R&B, and even disparate psychedelic folk from across the globe. What holds Grimes’s aesthetic together though is, simply put, mood: whirling awfully close to planetary rapture. (Michael Krimper)

Feb. 22, 8 p.m., $10, sold out

Grimes and oOoOO

With Born Gold, Yalls

Rickshaw Shop

155 Fell St., SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

THE BUDOS BAND

Few bands working within the new wave of funk revivalism during the past decade are as tight as The Budos Band. The Brooklyn-based outfit has released all three of their records, each simply self-titled and numbered, on Daptone Records, home to powerhouse soulstress, Sharon Jones. But The Budos Band has a bit more of a worldly spectrum than other Daptone releases firmly rooted in 1960s R&B. They take influence ultimately from the funk diaspora launched by James Brown: Fela Kuti’s afrobeat jams and the Latin soul of Fania, to the psychedelic ethio-jazz culled by Mulatu Astatke. The drums are deep in the pocket, wah-wah guitars get gritty, and the horn section hits hard, all with the frenetic urgency of a score straight out of a Melvin Van Peebles’ blaxpoitation flick. (Michael Krimper)

Feb. 23, 7:30 p.m., $20

With Allah-Las, Pickwick, Big Tree

Independent

628 Divisadero, SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

JOLIE HOLLAND

This longtime San Franciscan (and seventh-generation Texan) may call the road her home — with brief pauses for righteous swimming holes — but we’ll always think of her as a perfectly impure product of the Bay’s musical bohemia, the latest in long line of city songsmiths succored on prog politics, cultural patchwork, and high times. Whether Holland’s warbling about her mind reeling, blood bleeding on “Black Stars,” that wicked good “Old Fashioned Morphine,” or real-world psychic vampires (referenced in the title of her latest long-player, Pint of Blood (Anti), she taps a deep vein of blues —one related to a familial history steeped in Texas swing and her own soulful explorations here and abroad. This waltz around, she alights in trio form, playing with Carey Lamprecht and Keith Cary. Long may she ramble and roam. (Kimberly Chun)

With Will Sprott of the Mumlers, Dreams, and Emily Jane White

Feb. 24, 7 p.m., $16.50–$18.50

Swedish American Hall

2174 Market, SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

MATTHEW DEAR

Matthew Dear has a talent for surprisingly rewarding detours. With Asa Breed (Ghostly) in 2007, he departed from the pure percussive bliss of minimal techno and house, which occupied the scope of his previous efforts, in favor of pop song structures and vocal stylings in the spirit of Brian Eno. My favorite winding road came with 2010’s Black City (Ghostly): a record prefaced by bubbly vocals and rhythms, whose lightness quickly disperses into an orgiastic sort of density typical of film noir’s crowded urban landscapes, and the lustful encounters they tend to prompt. Last month’s Headcage EP (Ghostly) marks the most recent tangent into drum patterns that glide and skitter, but if Matthew Dear’s past wanderings are any indication, it promises yet another fruitful pathway in the ever expanding multiverse of his sound production. (Michael Krimper)

Feb. 24, 8 p.m., $16

With Maus Haus, Exray’s, Tropicle Popsicle, DJ Mossmoss

Public Works

161 Erie St., SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

VERONICA FALLS

There are a lot of great bands returning to the Bay Area this year during Noise Pop, but one in particular hasn’t made it yet. Veronica Falls was originally scheduled for its debut SF performance at the Brick and Mortar Music Hall last September, when an issue with visas forced the UK quartet of indie pop morbid romantics to cancel at the last minute. At the time of the cancellation the group was also releasing its first self-titled LP on Slumberland Records, so on the plus side there’s been extra time for anyone awaiting Veronica Falls’s appearance to take in the music. It’s an album that delivers on the promise of early singles “Beachy Head” and “Found Love in a Graveyard” — a hauntingly retro British sound with layered vocals led by the bittersweet Roxanne Clifford, laid on top of the classic combination of jangled guitar rhythms and a punchy back beat. (Ryan Prendiville)

Feb. 24, 8 p.m., $14

With Bleached, Brilliant Colors, Lilac

Rickshaw Stop

155 Fell, SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

UPSIDE DOWN: THE CREATION RECORDS STORY

Danny O’Connor’s doc about legendary British indie label Creation Records is named both for the Jesus and Mary Chain single that helped launched the imprint — and the go-for-broke attitude shared by many of the freewheeling characters involved in its story. Most of them chime in to help tell the tale, including founder Alan McGee, a Scot whose thick accent is among many collected here that may make Americans long for subtitles. And, of course, what a tale — filled with colorful encounters, drugs, major-label wooing, drugs, “shockingly out of control” behavior, drugs, and all of the expected trappings of music-biz stardom. The soundtrack is filled with Creation’s many alt-rock, acid house, shoegaze, and Brit-pop success stories, including Primal Scream, My Bloody Valentine, Ride, Swervedriver, Teenage Fanclub, and Oasis. Where were you while they were gettin’ high? Director O’Connor appears in person for a Q&A after the screening. (Cheryl Eddy)

Feb. 25, 7 p.m., $10

 Roxie Theater

3117 16th St., SF 

2012.noisepop.com/film

Rep Clock

0

Schedules are for Wed/15-Tues/21 except where noted. Director and year are given when available. Double features are marked with a •. All times p.m. unless otherwise specified.

ARTISTS’ TELEVISION ACCESS 992 Valencia, SF; www.atasite.org. $6. “Miss Shannon// Underground (A) (T) (A) Laserbeam Premiere [Q] [A] [Z],” Wed, 8.

BALBOA 3630 Balboa, SF; www.balboamovies.com. Granito: How to Nail a Dictator (Yates, 2011), Thurs, 7:15.

BAY THEATER Pier 39, SF; sfoffspecialscreening.eventbrite.com. $10-20. “San Francisco Ocean Film Festival Special Screening:” •One Beach (Baffa, 2011) and Thirty Thousand: A Surfing Odyssey from Casablanca to Cape Town (James and James, 2011) Thurs, 7.

CASTRO 429 Castro, SF; (415) 621-6120, www.castrotheatre.com. $7.50-10. The Skin I Live In (Almodóvar, 2011), Wed, 2:30, 5:15, 8. •Certified Copy (Kiarostami, 2010), Thurs, 2:45, 7, and Circumstance (Keshavarz, 2011), Thurs, 4:50, 9. •Thunder Soul (Landsman, 2010), Fri, 3:30, 7, and Black Dynamite (Sanders, 2009), Fri, 5:10, 8:40. Sutro’s: The Palace at Lands End (Wyrsch, 2011), Sat, 1, 3. •The Lineup (Siegel, 1958), Sat, 7:30, and Invasion of the Body Snatchers (Siegel, 1956), Sat, 5:45, 9:10. “Scary Cow Prime Cuts: Fifth Anniversary Film Festival Extravaganza,” Sun, 4. More info at scarycow.com/primecuts. Hugo 3D (Scorsese, 2011), Mon, 2:30, 5:15, 8.

CHRISTOPHER B. SMITH RAFAEL FILM CENTER 1118 Fourth St, San Rafael; (415) 454-1222, www.cafilm.org. $6.75-10.25. “Rafael Film Club” with guest David Templeton, Thurs, 1. Chico and Rita (Trueba, 2010), Feb 17-23, call for times. “2012 Oscar Nominated Short Films,” narrative and documentary (separate admission), call for dates and times.

DE YOUNG MUSEUM Golden Gate Park, 50 Hagiwara Tea Garden Dr, SF; deyoung.famsf.org. Free. What’s Going On: The Life and Death of Marvin Gaye (Marre, 2006), Sun, 2. With host Kevin Epps and music historian Rickey Vincent.

MECHANICS’ INSTITUTE 57 Post, SF; (415) 393-0100, rsvp@milibrary.org. $10. “CinemaLit Film Series: Hollywood Dames: Beauty and Brains:” Leave Her to Heaven (Stahl, 1945), Fri, 6.

“NOISE POP FILM SERIES” AMC Loews Metreon 16, Fourth St at Mission, SF; 2012.noisepop.com/film. $11.50. Re: Generation Music Project (Bar-Lev, 2011), Thurs/16 and Feb 23, 8.

PACIFIC FILM ARCHIVE 2575 Bancroft, Berk; (510) 642-5249, bampfa.berkeley.edu. $5.50-9.50. “African Film Festival 2012:” Kongo: 50 Years of Independence in Congo (Various directors, 2010), Wed, 7. “Seconds of Eternity: The Films of Gregory J. Markopoulos:” The Illiac Passion (1966-67), Thurs, 7. “Austere Perfectionism: The Films of Robert Bresson:” A Man Escaped (1956), Fri, 7; Une femme douce (1969), Sat, 6:30; Four Nights of a Dreamer (1971), Sat, 8:20. “Howard Hawks: The Measure of Man:” The Dawn Patrol (1930), Fri, 8:55; Only Angels Have Wings (1939), Tues, 7.

ROXIE 3117 and 3125 16th St, SF; (415) 863-1087, www.roxie.com. $6.50-10. SF IndieFest, through Feb 23. Visit www.sfindie.com for complete schedule.

SAN FRANCISCO PUBLIC LIBRARY Koret Auditorium, 100 Larkin, SF; www.sfpl.org. Free. “Bay Area Community Cinema Series:” More Than a Month: One Man’s Journey to End Black History Month (Tilghman, 2012), Tues, 5:45.

SFFS | NEW PEOPLE CINEMA 1746 Post, SF; www.sffs.org. $10-11. Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (Ceylan, 2011), Wed-Thurs, 2, 5:30, 8:30. Margaret (Lonergan, 2011), Feb 17-23, 2, 5:30, 8:30.

VORTEX ROOM 1082 Howard, SF; www.myspace.com/thevortexroom. $7 donation. “The Second Coming of the Vortex Room:” Zardoz (Boorman, 1974), and The Night God Screamed (Madden, 1971), Thurs, 8.

YERBA BUENA CENTER FOR THE ARTS 701 Mission, SF; (415) 978-2787, www.ybca.org. $6-8. “Bros Before Hos:” Meat Rack (Thomas, 1968), Thurs, 7:30; Steam of Life (Berghall and Hotakainen, 2010), Sun, 2.

Everlasting Noise

0

emilysavage@sfbg.com

NOISE POP Thao recalls hosting impromptu beer trivia with Mirah during their joint show a few years back, a festive moment she says is telling of Noise Pop. Cursive vocalist Tim Kasher retained playing one of the “most hungover shows imaginable” many years ago at Bottom of the Hill and it still being one of his favorite shows. Archers of Loaf bassist Matt Gentling has a fuzzy memory of playing the fest in 1997 with Spoon and Knapsack. Roddy Bottum and Jone Stebbins of Imperial Teen once declared themselves “King and Queen of Noise Pop” due to a tireless week creeping nearly every show.

Chances are, if you’ve been in a touring band at any point in the past two decades, or you’re a Bay Area music fan, you’ve got a Noise Pop memory or 20. My own? That incredible moment a couple years back when Yoko Ono and Sean Lennon were rejoined on the ornate Fox stage by Deerhoof, Petra Haden, Harper Simon, and a half dozen more for a stage-audience sing-along of “Give Peace a Chance.”

Longtime Noise Pop co-producer Jordan Kurland clearly has endless stories from the fest. Sitting casually in the bright, spacious Mission office of his own Zeitgeist Artist Management, he smiles as he quietly recounts his life within Noise Pop; Guided By Voices at Bimbo’s in 2002 playing an encore of the first eight songs off 1994’s Bee Thousand, taking duel legends Frank Black and John Doe out to breakfast the morning after their co-headlining show, watching Joanna Newsom — a soon to be star — play her third ever show opening for Cat Power.

He then begins methodically ticking off great shows of NP past: Flaming Lips, Grandaddy, Creeper Lagoon, Death Cab, Rodriguez (M. Ward’s early act) at Great American Music Hall, Two Gallants, Superchunk at Bimbo’s, Wolf Mother at Bottom of the Hill — Lars Ulrich happened to be in the crowd for that one. “When you look back at some of the bills, it’s pretty amazing — and the fact that people still come and appreciate it, it’s gratifying,” he understates. Later he mentions, “we’ve had some misses over the years too, stuff that just doesn’t connect.” But he’s too polite to indulge those.

The Noise Pop festival began in 1993, founded by Kevin Arnold who continues to this day, along with Kurland, to produce it. That first year, there were five bands playing one venue, one day. This year, there are 128 bands, playing 19 venues spread out over six days. Plus there’s the Noise Pop-Up pre-events, and the Thurs/16 pre-party with Class Actress, a Painted Palms DJ set, and Epicsauce DJs at the California Academy of Sciences.

“It’s changed so much,” Kurland says. “When Kevin started [Noise Pop], it was about celebrating a scene that really wasn’t well recognized, and most of the bands were like Hüsker Dü or Replacements, you know, noisey pop.” Now, he says, “it’s really just about independently-minded artists. It doesn’t mean that every band that plays the festival is on an independent label, it’s just a certain approach to the craft.”

He adds that they’ve expanded over the years to include electronic music, dance music, and underground hip-hop. “I feel like we’re all getting older — I know, weird. But our staff is immersed in the culture of this so we have a good sense of what people are listening to — I mean, we’re not going to start booking yacht rock.”

Kurland joined Arnold in 1998, the sixth year of Noise Pop. “At that point, Kevin had been saying for the past five years, ‘this is the last year,’ ‘this is the last Noise Pop, I can’t do it anymore.’ He had a day job in the technology industry, but I was working for another management company so it was easier to weave [booking bands] into the fabric of my day.”

The year Kurland joined, the Flaming Lips did the momentous boombox experiment (pre-Zireka) at Bimbo’s, and Modest Mouse played its first show at Great American Music Hall. In the years that followed, the organizers introduced the Noise Pop Film Festival, which screens music-enwrapped flicks, and have toyed with different music education forums. There was once Noise Pop Night School, this year, there’s Culture Club at Public Works, where you can learn how to bounce with Big Freedia, or all about art, animation, and film with Aaron Rose and Syd Garon. The fest, which began a small indie music creature, is now a many-headed culture beast.

This year is a significant year for Noise Pop, as Kurland is well aware. “You only get one 20th anniversary…so for this year it was a big effort to bring back bands that have played.” He and Arnold called up acts such as Flaming Lips, Archers of Loaf, Bob Mould, and Imperial Teen, all of which played early on.

There’s also Thao and John Vanderslice, locals who have both separately played Noise Pops past in different incarnations, and who this year will co-headline Bottom of the Hill. At that show Thao will be testing out five to six new songs, and says “depending on the reaction, they may or may not go on the new album.”

There is, however, one act that will be brand new to Noise Pop this year and yet, is still part of the tradition in a sense. Kurland has been trying to nab Built to Spill for the fest for the past 14 years, to no avail, though it did once play Treasure Island (also part of Noise Pop Industries). His annual reach-out for the act has become a tradition in its own right. “Every year it’s like a joke, I call them up, and it actually worked this year!”

That Built to Spill show at the Fillmore, however, is long sold out, as are many of the big names — Flaming Lips, Atlas Sound, Imperial Teen, even comparatively newer acts like Grimes. Though those who purchased badges will still have the opportunity to check them out, and there are dozens of other impressive lineups. “It’s definitely moving quicker this year,” Kurland says when the rate of sell-outs is pointed out. “I think there’s more attention on the festival.”

“It seems obvious, but I feel every year we get a little more established,” he adds. “I feel like not that long ago people who should know what Noise Pop is, didn’t.”

Noise Pop also inevitability brings a whole batch of artists wandering the city. Stebbins from Imperial Teen is hoping to catch Archers of Loaf at Great American Music Hall, Christie Front Drive at Cafe Du Nord, and Craig Finn at Bottom of the Hill, among other fellow artists. Interestingly, Kasher from Cursive also mentions those exact shows. Kurland, the eternal music fan, is also ready to haunt SF’s venues yet again. “I’m kind of stressed about some of the nights, I’m like, okay, Saturday night I’ve got Surfer Blood, but also Archers of Loaf…”

Time again to start marking those schedules, fanatics.

NOISE POP

Feb. 21-26

Various venues, SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

Symmetry

1

arts@sfbg.com

NOISE POP It’s been a few months since I’ve seen Nicolas Winding Refn’s Drive, and while many have dedicated countless hours selflessly contributing to the Ryan Gosling meme, which continues to grow and mutate like an uncontained bacterial infection, I’m still utterly and helplessly seduced by the score.

Allow me to draw a rash conclusion in the limited space allotted: Few films have coalesced around a form of sound as succinctly as Drive. On the one hand, the melancholy synth-pop music magnetizes the sense of nostalgia that saturates the film in a mythically neon Los Angeles of the 1980s, or the sprawl imagined in ’50s noir. On the other hand, the score motivates the emotional awakening of a lonely Gosling stricken by an unfolding love for his neighbor of angelic innocence.

What emerges from this tension between loss and erotics parallels none other than Vangelis’ extraordinary dystopian soundtrack for Bladerunner (1982). Through some kind of alchemical dissimulation, currents of machine generated sonic particles make visceral a disturbance within the dream distributed by Hollywood — a disturbance that nevertheless satisfies waves of desire as much as it unsettles.

Although Drive‘s score owes much to Cliff Martinez’s stark drum programming and warm synthetic melodies, some of the most arresting moments are due to Desire’s “Under Your Spell” and the Chromatics’ “Tick of the Clock.” Both songs belong to the musical vision of Johnny Jewel, a tireless producer also behind the Portland group of night stalkers, Glass Candy, and in general, much of the output from the Euro disco revivalist imprint, Italians Do It Better.

If you’re like me, and fiended for more Jewel after stumbling out of the theater under the spell, then you might have come across a few online interviews regarding his own mysteriously scrapped soundtrack for the film, encrypted with announcements for an unspecified future release date.

Then, just at the end of last year, 37 songs comprising nearly two hours of cinematic music quietly appeared like a gift from the void, under the appropriately vague title Symmetry / Themes for an Imaginary Film. The official statement in the press blurb insists, however, that this is not the allegedly trashed Drive score. Instead, it consists of a series of abstract experiments culled over the past three years from Jewel and partner Nat Walker on tone, mood, and structure, stripped of the lyrical motifs and pop formulas that tend to mark their signature work.

I have to admit I’m not entirely convinced by this back-story, but for all listening purposes, it doesn’t much matter. Symmetry draws on the same affective narrative underpinning Drive: As soon as a sense of artificial enclosure reaches the limit of relentless claustrophobia, a rupture slowly deflates from within, without any grand arrival or explosion. And while we may feel the euphoria of its release, the anticipation of an event ever more devastating to come, still crawls wonderfully under our flesh. *

GLASS CANDY, AND THE CHROMATICS

With Soft Metals, Omar and BT Magnum (DJ)

Feb. 24, 8 p.m., $19

Mezzanine

444 Jessie, SF

www.mezzaninesf.com

 

NOISE POP CULTURE CLUB

Johnny Jewel on scoring, Glass Candy, and more

Feb. 25, 2:30 p.m., $10

Public Works 161 Erie, SF

2012.noisepop.com

All the noise

0

 

SNOB THEATER

Noise Pop isn’t all studied, somber plucking, ethereal soundscapes, or morose, twisting in the night song lyrics; there are solid yucks to be had. Kata Rokkar and Noise Pop are presenting another installment of Snob Theater at the Noise Pop-Up Shop pre-main events. Hosted by comedian-music blogger Shawn Robbins, it’s a mashup of indie rockers and indie comics, a real giggle fest for the musically-inclined. Brendon Walsh (Comedy Central, Jimmy Kimmel), Dave Thomason (SF Sketchfest), Janine Brito (Laughter Against The Machine), and Chris Thayer (Bridgetown Comedy Festival) bring the comedy, rockers the Ferocious Few and Bobby Ebola and the Children MacNuggits bring the raucous tunage. (Emily Savage)

Feb. 17, 8 p.m., $10

Noise Pop-Up Shop

34 Page, SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

DIE ANTWOORD

The chances that this South African freak-hop duo will roll onstage with LED-tricked wheelchairs, wearing onesies that make flat-topped emcee Ninja and devil-pixie singer Yo-Landi Vi$$er look like plushies are not high — it already worked that look for the “Umshini Wam” video, accessorizing with a telescope-sized joint and firearms. No matter, this hot-ticket sell-out show will have a gonzo pack of hipsters twerking to the weird-ass lyrics like there’s no tomorrow. Die Antwoord, like most hip-hop these days, is plagued by questions of authenticity (it reps for South Africa’s working-class demographic that members may not actually hail from), but the performative aspect of its schtick makes it a cultural artifact regardless of where Ninja went to school. Hot tip for those that dig a long shot: keep one eye peeled for Celine Dion. Die Antwoord’s pegged her as their dream collaborator. Weirdos. (Caitlin Donohue)

Feb. 22, 7 p.m., sold out.

Regency Ballroom

1300 Van Ness, SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

HIT SO HARD: THE LIFE AND NEAR-DEATH STORY OF DRUMMER PATTY SCHEMEL

Along with Last Days Here, currently screening as part of the San Francisco Independent Film Festival, Hit So Hard is one of the most inspiring rock docs in recent memory. Patty Schemel was the drummer for Hole circa Live Through This, coolly keeping the beat amid Courtney Love’s frequent Lollapalooza-stage meltdowns after Kurt Cobain’s 1994 death. Offstage, however, she was neck-deep in substance abuse, weathering several rounds of rehab even after the fatal overdose of Hole bandmate Kristen Pfaff just months after Cobain (who appears here in Schemel’s own remarkable home video footage). P. David Ebersole’s film gathers insight from many key figures in Schemel’s life — including her mother, who has the exact voice of George Costanza’s mother on Seinfeld, and a garishly made-up, straight-talking Love — but most importantly, from Schemel herself, who is open and funny even when talking about the perils of drug addiction, of the heartbreak of being a gay teen in a small town, and the ultimate triumph of being a rock ‘n’ roll survivor. If you miss Hit So Hard at Noise Pop, it’ll be back around for a San Francisco theatrical run starting April 27. (Cheryl Eddy)

Feb. 22, 9 p.m., $10

Artists’ Television Access

992 Valencia, SF

2012.noisepop.com/film

 

GRIMES

After listening to Grimes on heavy rotation for the past couple years I still find myself mesmerized by Claire Boucher’s voice. It leaps and falls, circles words in repetitive motions, ciphering their sonic texture and tone into a perpetual undoing of sound. Grimes consistently induces this siren effect, inhabiting that mysteriously seductive threshold somewhere between waking life and dream world. Its third full-length, Visions (Arbutus/4AD), is no different. It continues to draw resources from spectral pop wherever it can, from the processed rhythms underpinning a constellation of electronic dance genres, to the gushing melodies of New Age cassette tapes and 1990s R&B, and even disparate psychedelic folk from across the globe. What holds Grimes’s aesthetic together though is, simply put, mood: whirling awfully close to planetary rapture. (Caitlin Donohue)

Feb. 22, 8 p.m., $10, sold out

Grimes and oOoOO

With Born Gold, Yalls

Rickshaw Shop

155 Fell St., SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

THE BUDOS BAND

Few bands working within the new wave of funk revivalism during the past decade are as tight as The Budos Band. The Brooklyn-based outfit has released all three of their records, each simply self-titled and numbered, on Daptone Records, home to powerhouse soulstress, Sharon Jones. But The Budos Band has a bit more of a worldly spectrum than other Daptone releases firmly rooted in 1960s R&B. They take influence ultimately from the funk diaspora launched by James Brown: Fela Kuti’s afrobeat jams and the Latin soul of Fania, to the psychedelic ethio-jazz culled by Mulatu Astatke. The drums are deep in the pocket, wah-wah guitars get gritty, and the horn section hits hard, all with the frenetic urgency of a score straight out of a Melvin Van Peebles’ blaxpoitation flick. (Michael Krimper)

Feb. 23, 7:30 p.m., $20

With Allah-Las, Pickwick, Big Tree

Independent

628 Divisadero St., SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

JOLIE HOLLAND

This longtime San Franciscan (and seventh-generation Texan) may call the road her home — with brief pauses for righteous swimming holes — but we’ll always think of her as a perfectly impure product of the Bay’s musical bohemia, the latest in long line of city songsmiths succored on prog politics, cultural patchwork, and high times. Whether Holland’s warbling about her mind reeling, blood bleeding on “Black Stars,” that wicked good “Old Fashioned Morphine,” or real-world psychic vampires (referenced in the title of her latest long-player, Pint of Blood (Anti), she taps a deep vein of blues —one related to a familial history steeped in Texas swing and her own soulful explorations here and abroad. This waltz around, she alights in trio form, playing with Carey Lamprecht and Keith Cary. Long may she ramble and roam. (Kimberly Chun)

With Will Sprott of the Mumlers, Dreams, and Emily Jane White

Feb. 24, 7 p.m., $16.50–<\d>$18.50

Swedish American Hall

2174 Market, SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

 

MATTHEW DEAR

Matthew Dear has a talent for surprisingly rewarding detours. With Asa Breed (Ghostly) in 2007, he departed from the pure percussive bliss of minimal techno and house, which occupied the scope of his previous efforts, in favor of pop song structures and vocal stylings in the spirit of Brian Eno. My favorite winding road came with 2010’s Black City (Ghostly): a record prefaced by bubbly vocals and rhythms, whose lightness quickly disperses into an orgiastic sort of density typical of film noir’s crowded urban landscapes, and the lustful encounters they tend to prompt. Last month’s Headcage EP (Ghostly) marks the most recent tangent into drum patterns that glide and skitter, but if Matthew Dear’s past wanderings are any indication, it promises yet another fruitful pathway in the ever expanding multiverse of his sound production. (Michael Krimper)

Feb. 24, 8 p.m., $16

With Maus Haus, Exray’s, Tropicle Popsicle, DJ Mossmoss

Public Works

161 Erie St., SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

 

VERONICA FALLS

There are a lot of great bands returning to the Bay Area this year during Noise Pop, but one in particular hasn’t made it yet. Veronica Falls was originally scheduled for its debut SF performance at the Brick and Mortar Music Hall last September, when an issue with visas forced the UK quartet of indie pop morbid romantics to cancel at the last minute. At the time of the cancellation the group was also releasing its first self-titled LP on Slumberland Records, so on the plus side there’s been extra time for anyone awaiting Veronica Falls’s appearance to take in the music. It’s an album that delivers on the promise of early singles “Beachy Head” and “Found Love in a Graveyard” — a hauntingly retro British sound with layered vocals led by the bittersweet Roxanne Clifford, laid on top of the classic combination of jangled guitar rhythms and a punchy back beat. (Ryan Prendiville)

Feb. 24, 8 p.m., $14

With Bleached, Brilliant Colors, Lilac

Rickshaw Stop

155 Fell, SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

 

UPSIDE DOWN: THE CREATION RECORDS STORY

Danny O’Connor’s doc about legendary British indie label Creation Records is named both for the Jesus and Mary Chain single that helped launched the imprint — and the go-for-broke attitude shared by many of the freewheeling characters involved in its story. Most of them chime in to help tell the tale, including founder Alan McGee, a Scot whose thick accent is among many collected here that may make Americans long for subtitles. And, of course, what a tale — filled with colorful encounters, drugs, major-label wooing, drugs, “shockingly out of control” behavior, drugs, and all of the expected trappings of music-biz stardom. The soundtrack is filled with Creation’s many alt-rock, acid house, shoegaze, and Brit-pop success stories, including Primal Scream, My Bloody Valentine, Ride, Swervedriver, Teenage Fanclub, and Oasis. Where were you while they were gettin’ high? Director O’Connor appears in person for a Q&A after the screening. (Cheryl Eddy)

Feb. 25, 7 p.m., $10 Roxie Theater 3117 16th St., SF 2012.noisepop.com/film

Bounce with me

0

Editor’s Note: Unfortunately this show has been cancelled due to Big Freedia’s health. We wish her well and hope to see her again soon! Please read this revealing interview with her multi-talented DJ and producer, Rusty Lazer.

arts@sfbg.com

NOISE POP Despite its continual popularity in New Orleans for the last 20 odd years, it’s been a while since the regional, uptempo, call and response driven style of dance music known as bounce has appeared on a national level. The Juvenile (featuring an adorably young Lil Wayne) track “Back That Azz Up” may be the most recognizable hit, but not the most representative of the genre, especially the rising queer-friendly subsection that Big Freedia rules as “Queen Diva.”

Appearing in her nationwide debut performance on Jimmy Kimmel Live! last month, Big Freedia, born Freddie Ross, possibly brought bounce back into the lives and sets of people outside of NOLA, but they may not have been getting the whole picture. “I get a lot dirtier when it’s a club performance, and I can really get raw,” Big Freedia said in a phone interview last week, “but that was for TV so it was a little more PG.” Freedia, who answers most questions with Southern politeness and a “Yes, sir,” is nothing but grateful for the experience in which her dancers worked with “one of Beyonce’s choreographers,” Frank Gatson, for the segment, but to an observer at all familiar with her reputation for wild live performances, it was pretty tame.

In part it was just a matter of skin. One of Big Freedia’s signature songs at this point is “Azz Everywhere” and it’s the scantily clad dancers in particular that bring the idea to life, making moves and taking positions not unlike a 2 Live Crew show (or the Kama Sutra). We’re talking booty bumping, full splits floor humping, upside down synchronized air thrusting, and other gyrations typically reserved for strip clubs near airports and really great office Christmas parties.

For Big Freedia, who comes with her own crew of male and female dancers, call and response isn’t just lyrical — meaning that when she yells “I got that gin in my system” you should probably retort “somebody gonna be my victim” — but also that people might get called out for not getting down on the dance floor. At her shows, “everyone is involved.” Big Freedia said. “Whoever wants to get onstage can get a chance to come on stage. I’m very connected with the audience so I try to make everyone involved.” This interaction with her audience was the other thing missing from the Jimmy Kimmel performance, where a crowd looked on more as spectators than participants. For her part, Freedia tries to meet people at her shows halfway, saying “I can’t put them all on stage so I have to put myself on the floor with them.”

Effort means a lot for Big Freedia, who has long been known for doing shows at least six nights a week in New Orleans and continues to run a successful decorating company. She considers it part of her message that one can “Make the impossible happen being gay. Working really hard at things you have dreams behind and succeeding no matter what color, creed, walk of life.” Idealistic as that is, it also explains in part her egalitarian approach to dancing. Unlike some artists (::cough:: Sir Mix-A-Lot ::cough) it’s not about a certain type of butt; everyone’s got one, you just have to know how to bounce it. And if you don’t know that, well, she also offers classes.

 

WITH HARD FRENCH DJS, VOGUE & TONE, DOUBLE DUCHESS

Feb. 25, 9 p.m., $16; Culture Club bounce session, 11:30 a.m., $10

Public Works

161 Erie, SF

2012.noisepop.com

Noise Pop Photo Retrospective, with Plastic Villains and Cool Ghouls

1

The 20th anniversary of Noise Pop is oh-so-close to upon us. In celebration and commemoration of how far the festival has come, and of the musicians who’ve made Noise Pop a much-anticipated Bay Area tradition, Bottom of the Hill will be hosting a retrospective photo gallery. The exhibit’s opening reception takes place Tues/7 from 6 to 9 p.m. and is free to the public.

Noise Pop producer Stacy Horne says Bottom of the Hill is an ideal home for the Photo Retrospective because the venue just celebrated its own 20th anniversary and has been an important Noise Pop venue throughout the years. (Bottom of the Hill has been hosting Noise Pop shows since 1994.) The gallery will be up in Bottom of the Hill’s back room from tonight through the last day of the festival (Feb. 26) and will include photos of former Noise Pop acts that have since achieved widespread acclaim such as Death Cab for Cutie, The Flaming Lips, and Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. Photographers include Eduardo Acorda, Marlu Aufmuth, Jeanne Ellenby, Peter Ellenby, Charlie Homo, Sheila Menezes, Paige Parsons, Mike Rosati, Julie Schuchard, Shoka Shafiee, Matt Seuferer, and Deb Zeller.

Noise Pop, which began as a nightlong music festival at The Kennel Club (now The Independent) showcasing five bands, has developed into the largest independent music festival in San Francisco. It has also evolved into a comprehensive independent culture event that exposes Bay Area art, film, and design in addition to music. The Noise Pop festival officially kicks off Feb. 21.

In the Noise Pop spirit of exposing the young, up-and-coming, and local acts, performances by Plastic Villains and Cool Ghouls will follow Tuesday’s reception.

Plastic Villains, which formed fewer than six months ago and received “The Deli’s Bay Area Band of the Month Award” in November, is comprised of mostly USF undergrads that practice and record their “psychedelic garage rock blues hop” jams in their garage.

Cool Ghouls, also a San Francisco-based band, describe their sound simply as “rock-n-roll” and attribute the creation of their modern doo-wop goodness to tall cans, 40s, blunts, and crime.

Let the Noise Pop festivities begin.

Noise Pop Photo Retrospective
With Plastic Villains, Cool Ghouls
Tues/7, 6 p.m., free
Bottom of the Hill
1233 17th St., SF
www.bottomofthehill.com

 

 

Seventeen Evergreen

0

Seventeen Evergreen (www.seventeenevergreen.com) occasionally sounds like evil video game music to me. The San Francisco band consists of Caleb Pate and Nephi Evans, both writers-producers who sing and play drums, synths, and Asiatic stringed instruments among other contraptions. Though it has roots in garage, the duo mostly sticks to experimental psych-pop, and sometimes incorporates aggressive dance beats that lend to gaming — you can almost picture shattered gold rings falling through the sky in a winning ding-ding-ding during moments in the forthcoming Steady On, Scientist! LP (March 27, Lucky Number). The next show is Feb. 25 with Atlas Sound at Bimbo’s as part of Noise Pop (8 p.m., $20. 1025 Columbus, SF. www.bimbos365club.com).

The album standout is “Polarity Song,” with its catchy, repetitive hook and provocative lyrics. The song also was featured on the Psyentist EP, released last December and subsequently, there was a music video. While the EP and video by Terri Timely, which played up a rainbow of yarn spun thrift store monsters, were released last year to local acclaim, the full-length will be out in 2012, making it the perfect year for the band to reach its deserved position beside fellow danceable indie giants. After watching Seventeen Evergreen live last year, the phrase “embrace the polarity of life” was bumping about my brain for weeks. Undoubtedly, this will happen to you too.

Description of sound: Somewhere between zenith snowflake pop and psychedelic cave techno.

What do you like most about the Bay Area music scene: The Asian influence on the avant garde, the room for innovation, and the many different scenes which may or may not always celebrate the out-and-out sonic weirdness that this city has produced over the years.

What piece of music means the most to you and why: No one piece could ever answer this one so far, but last year Cass McCombs’ “County Line” was a favorite. “Golden Lady” by Stevie Wonder and nearly anything by Moondog come to mind as perennials.

Favorite local eatery and dish: So many options here but let’s nominate the Chilaquiles at the farmer’s market in the Ferry Building or a number of places in the Mission for the same.

Who would you most like to tour with: ELO.