Noise

Our Brother the Native documents love on ‘Vows’

Tony Robles
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Our Brother the Native documents love on ‘Vows’

When I call Josh Bertram of Our Brother The Native at his home in Pontiac, Mich., he’s unwinding with hot tea and whiskey after “one of those days” at the office. The 22-year-old art director harbors an insuppressible passion for music, which is tough to convey to his older coworkers. “I feel like they progressively get more and more weirded out by me,” he admits. Bertram graciously welcomes my questions, speaking openly and eloquently about his new album, Vows.

At age 16, Bertram began recording with high school friend John-Michael Foss. They soon linked up with California resident Chaz Knapp and started collaborating via the Internet. “There wasn’t a lot of that kind of thing going on,” says Bertram. “Now, that’s really common.”

Bertram, Foss, and Knapp only met face to face after Our Brother The Native recorded its first full length album. Following its debut, Tooth And Claw, the band put out a host of material ranging from “pretty folk” to “post rock” on FatCat Records. Through all the style shifts, an avid fascination with circuit-bent instruments and layered sounds remained a consistent focus. After 2009’s Sacred Psalms, however, the steady outflow of releases came to a halt.

“Chaz and I were never really satisfied with the records we put out,” says Bertram. “I’ve been documenting my artistic growth over the years. It’s kind of like looking at embarrassing photos from high school. Finally, I was like alright, I need to slow it down.”

Production slowed, but Bertram’s been busier than ever. “It’s such an ambitious project to get all these players and instruments recorded,” he says. “It just took a lot longer.” The self-described sound geek did all the tracking for Vows himself. Guitar, banjo, ukulele, piano, synthesizer, and alto saxophone were among the instruments he played on the album. Knapp wrote the orchestral arrangements, and Nick Cowman of Oakland’s Religious Girls laid down the drums. “A lot of these songs had almost 120 tracks of instruments and sounds,” Bertram tells me. The final mixing of the album became an eight month endeavor.

Vows (released late October) is a dynamic flurry of sounds. Dense arrangements of strings, wind instruments, and clattering percussion accompany harrowing vocals from Bertram and an ethereal chorus of friends. “There’s so much to take in on this record,” Bertram affirms. “It’s kind of exhausting.”

In the course of recording the album, Bertram fell in love for the first time. “I wanted to make it sort of like marriage vows documenting various stages of love,” he says. “This is the first [album] I feel has actual human depth.” Ironically, it’s also the first time Bertram’s had difficulty finding a label. He’s digitally self-releasing Vows in the hopes that someone takes interest in putting out a physical version. “I don’t want fame or fortune or anything,” Bertram tells me. “I just want people to hear it. If I could have a conversation with you about your art, my art… I just want music to instigate these sort of things.”

Our Brother the Native
With Future Twin, Dead Eyes, and the Mallard
Sat/12, 9 p.m., $5
Engine Works
190 Capp, SF
(415) 563-8941

Party Radar: Rarebits gets eclectic at Truck

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Party Radar: Rarebits gets eclectic at Truck

Well. I was so excited about the return of beloved DJ Chicken to the party-throwing arena that I listed the launch date of his new free monthly shindig, Rarebits at Truck, incorrectly in my latest Super Ego clubs column. It’s actually tomorrow night ( Friday 11/11/11 — the neat date should have been a mnemonic no-brainer, but hey, as I said, I’m still drunk).

So, let’s turn lemonade into vodka lemonade, shall we? I described the night, also featuring fab guest DJ Josh Cheon, of Dark Entries and Honey Soundsystem, as being “eclectic.” What the heck does “eclectic” even really mean? DJ Chicken has curated a collection of neato tracks — from tUnE-yArDs to Captain Beefheart — you may or may not hear tomorrow night at Truck after the jump. I’ll drink to that!     

The Like
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=42p2nERiNFk

tUnE-yArDs
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQ1LI-NTa2s

Sparks
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1JjbFWU6TqI

Captain Beefheart
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hCSPf5Viwd0

oOoOO
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4TJPbVd0oAM

Anita O’Day
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4XH4Uzusrc0

The Family
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=joI86Fk6lNw

 

RAREBITS

Fri/11, 6 p.m.-10 p.m., free

Truck,

1900 Folsom, SF.

www.trucksf.com

Maximum Consumption: the Turntable Kitchen interview

Tony Robles
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I’d venture a guess that no one in this town knows the frosting tipped appeal of hand-mixing music and food more than the couple behind Turntable Kitchen. What started one year ago as a simple (yet highly aesthetically pleasing) website mashing up recipes and records, has grown into a celebrated multi-headed creative output machine, with food+music news, event sponsoring, giveaways, and the newly added physical pairings boxes – on top of the drool-inducing/stunning posts.

Last week I caught up with the duo to find out, among other queries, what ingredient you simply must have on hand – and the records every collection should include:

San Francisco Bay Guardian: For people who have never heard of Turntable Kitchen, can you give a brief rundown on how the concept came together?
Matthew Hickey: Turntable Kitchen is a website combining food and music. We do that by pairing recipes Kasey creates in the kitchen with some of my favorite albums. I try to find albums that share the same characteristics as her recipes, pairing them together the way a sommelier would pair wine with food. The idea to start the site was Kasey’s, but we were pairing food and music in our own foggy Inner Sunset apartment long before we launched the site. I’ve always been obsessive about music and Kasey loves to cook. Part of our evening ritual involved her explaining the recipe we were going to make and me then hitting my record collection to find an album to compliment our meal.
SFBG: What is it about food and music that goes so well together?
MH: For us, a good meal is about more than just consuming food. It is about creating an experience that pleases all of your senses. We believe that the soundtrack to that meal is a hugely important element of that experience. In fact, a recent study published in the British Journal of Psychology demonstrated that when people consume wine while listening to music they perceived the wine to share the same characteristics as the music. The result is something that Kasey and I instinctively felt to be true whether drinking wine or enjoying a good meal.
SFBG: How did you come up with the Pairings Box idea?
MH: We liked the idea of sending goodies to our readers in the mail, but we weren’t sure what form that would take. Whatever we did, we wanted it to stay true to the theme of our site. Speaking to the music specific elements: they just made sense for me. I love vinyl records and have an ever-growing record collection. With the ease of digital distribution, though, some of my favorite new music isn’t yet available on vinyl. So the singles we release feature music that I wanted for my collection, but which didn’t already exist on vinyl. I’ve been making mixtapes for my friends for as long as I can remember, so the digital mixtape we include gives me yet another opportunity to share music I love with our supporters.
Kasey Fleisher: I have always thought that a big barrier to cooking for many people is having a pantry. A lot of times, a recipe calls for a lot of expensive and/or hard to find ingredients and when you don’t cook often, it’s hard to think, “why not give this a try?” The concept of giving people three recipes and one to two premium dried ingredients gives them that nudge to experiment (and a reason to invite a few friends over to share the experience.). As for the sustainability of the Pairings Box, we think there’s still room to expand, but no matter what, we want to keep it limited. So far, we’ve sold out of every month’s box.
SFBG: What’s in the November pairings box and when does it go out? Is it sold out yet?
MH: The November Pairings Box had a harvest theme. We featured three new, original recipes; a hand-numbered, limited-edition (250 copies) 7″ vinyl single featuring Evenings (a.k.a. Virginia-based Nathan Broaddus); an exclusive digital mixtape; and our premium ingredient for the month was a French Grey Sea Salt and French Lavender blend.And, yes, we’re all sold out.
SFBG: December pairings box orders can start coming in Nov. 15, correct?
MH: Yes, we’ll start accepting new subscriptions for the December Pairings Box on November 15. We have a sign-up form on the site where you can enter your email and we’ll drop you an email to notify you of when we’re ready to start taking payments.
KF: We’ll have additional boxes available for the holidays.
SFBG: On the site, what have been the most popular pairing(s) so far?
KF: Some of the most (recent) popular pairings have been our Multi-Grain Pumpkin Donuts, paired with St. Vincent and Creamy White Grits with Chanterelle Mushrooms paired with Iron & Wine.
SFBG: What are your own personal favorite pairing(s)?
MH: One of my recent favorite pairings has been Kasey’s Fig, Mint and Honey Galette, paired with Brazilian artist Jorge Ben.
KF: One of my favorite pairings was our Wild Mushroom and Crescenza Pizza, paired with Revolving Birds. Matt loves mushrooms and pizza, and we’re both really into good
cheese…I could totally see myself cozied up on rainy day making this pizza and listening to Revolving Birds…what could be better?
SFBG: What’s the most important ingredient to keep in your cupboard?
KF: That is a tough question! But I’d probably have to say salt.
SFBG: What’s the most important album to keep in your record collection?
MH: That is a tough one. If you are going to listen to it by yourself then you’d want your favorite album – whatever that may be. If you want versatile music that sounds great and
can be played on any occasion, I highly recommend owning a few Motown records. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone – young or old – who hates The Four Tops, The Jackson 5, The Supremes, Al Green, etc.
SFBG: You both have day jobs, correct? How feasible is it for you to cook together every night?
MH: Yes, we both have day jobs that can be relatively time consuming. Nonetheless, I’d say we normally find time to cook together at least five days a week or more. No matter how tough my day was at work, when I come home and start a record, open a bottle of wine and start cooking in the kitchen with Kasey, I feel great.
KF: I agree…Even though I like my day job, there’s nothing more that I love than making something with my hands after sitting in front of a computer. It’s a nice break until I
have to get back on the computer to work and/or blog/edit pictures, etc.
SFBG: On an off cooking night, what’s your favorite restaurant in the Bay Area?
MH: I have many favorite restaurants, but a few favorites are: Koo, NOPA, and Aziza.
KF: I would add Outerlands, Delfina Pizzeria, Lavash, and Contigo to this list.
SFBG: What are your future goals for Turntable Kitchen?
KF: Our goal is to continue producing great content, expand the food and music experiences that we’re offering offline, and grow our audience organically. In our opinion, food and music are some of the best things in life, and we think we’re making the two more fun and accessible to a broader range of people.
 

Justin Bua brings his hip-hop legends to the Bay

Andrew Lam
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Justin Bua‘s new book Legends of Hip-Hop would look nice in your living room, but if you get a chance to snag the renowned portratist on his promotional swoop through the Bay Area this weekend (Thu/10-Sat/12) don’t feel like you have to call it a coffeetable book. This thing’s got wisdom to impart to the Beyonce feat. J. Cole generation.

You’ve probably seen Bua’s work before. He’s that “new urban realist” whose iconic DJ print hangs in just about every hip-hop gearhead’s hallway. He did the cityscapes for Slum Village’s “Tainted” video – a sober East Coast version of Sirron Norris’ Mission District send-ups. 

In Legends of Hip-Hop readers get to find out exactly why Bua has dedicated his lifework to exploring hip-hop culture. The man feels it deeply. He chose 50 artists for the pages of the book, each honored with a luminous image and page-long reflection on their importance in history, in music, in Bua’s own life. He’s picked old school classics like Sha-Rock, B-boy Mr. Wiggles, and pioneering tagger Lady Pink, and goes up straight through today’s greats that even the MTV generation can recognize as legendary: Jay-Z, Jay Dilla, Missy Elliott. 

And it’s not just rote explanations, either. Like any great hip-hop artist (he is one) Bua is unafraid to put some weird blanket statements out there, like his unexplicably tender profile of Snoop Dogg, subtitled “The Beloved,” no less.

“Snoop transcends definition, and everyone – from soccer moms to gang bangers – loves him.” [emphasis author’s own] Well…

Legends makes a good read for anyone stuck in that hip-hop-is-Auto-tuned miasma, and instructs also on the music’s greater influence on our culture as a whole. The book’s first profile is Muhammed Ali, progenitor of hip-hop’s swagger and patter. It ends with Obama, who Bua says quietly signaled hip-hop lovers when he gave daps to Michelle onstage and brushed his shoulders off during speeches. Perhaps those movements weren’t quite as under-the-radar as he thinks, but there’s no doubt that Obama is the first president to successfully use hip-hop’s power to organize his own campaign. 

 

Legends of Hip-Hop concert

Thu/10 9 p.m., $25

Feat. DJs Qbert, Shortkut, and Apollo

The Independent

628 Divisadero, SF

(415) 771-1421

www.theindependentsf.com

 

Legends of Hip-Hop book signing

Fri/11 6 p.m., free

The Booksmith

1644 Haight, SF

(415) 863-8688

www.booksmith.com

 

Live Shots: Das Racist at Ruby Skye

Tony Robles
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The disgruntled bouncer at Ruby Skye begrudgingly admitted my entry to the Das Racist show on Friday night, only after I managed to flag down the event’s promoter to confirm my legitimacy. It was a telling kick off to an evening riddled with problems on behalf of the club, but I wanted to approach with an open mind.

Leaving my issues with the hyper-vigilant door staff outside, I grabbed an $11 drink at the bar and headed toward the stage to wait for opener Danny Brown. I didn’t need to wait long, as I later learned Das Racist fans would be evacuated from the venue by 10 p.m. to make room for the usual clubutantes.

In his signature skinny jeans and choked-voice delivery, Brown pulled off a riveting set. The Detroit, Mich., rapper asked the audience to “give it up for all the beautiful ladies” before launching into verse after maniacal verse about sex, drugs, and debauchery.

Shortly after Brown stepped off, Das Racist sauntered on stage to soak up a feverish response from fans. The large, intoxicated dude in front of me would go ape throughout the night, knocking people’s drinks over and demanding more than his share of high fives from the group.

Right off the bat, Victor Vazquez (a.k.a. Kool AD) took a dive into the collegiate looking audience. As the microphones began to malfunction, Vazquez appeared to lose interest and spent much of the show seated in various places on stage. Vazquez did, however, manage to yank Hypeman Ashok Kondabolu by the collar of his jumpsuit just as he was about to pounce on some guy for getting too grabby.

Himanshu Suri (a.k.a. Heems) seemed less fazed by Ruby Skye’s sound problems. Suri mimed some air guitar and flashed rock star devil horns at fans between verses. In a hilarious moment of self-parody or unprecedented narcissism, Suri lifted his black Das Racist shirt to reveal yet another Das Racist shirt beneath it.

The group’s many collaborators doubled as stage hands, dipping backstage to find new microphones as others shorted out. The best cameo of the evening goes to the swagger-drenched re-work of Dr. Dre’s “Xplosive” by Boots Riley of the Coup. Newcomer Lakutis performed the absurdly catchy track “Lakutis In Da Haus” from his upcoming EP and re-appeared for Das Racist’s “Rapping 2 U.” Brown and Despot contributed verses on “Power.” Due to sound issues, I couldn’t really tell what Trackademicks was doing, but he was there, too.

Despite the unfortunate setting, fans went totally berserk for Das Racist, shouting along to hits like “Michael Jackson” so enthusiastically that the technical difficulties became nearly inconsequential.

Dam-Funk brings modern funk and futuristic shoulder synth to Mezzanine

Tony Robles
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The Mezzanine wasn’t packed to capacity Saturday night, but there was a point about a quarter into Dam-Funk’s set when things started to get electric on the dance floor. I was in a sort of self-imposed paralysis, but looking around, it seemed as if I was surrounded by about half a dozen people, each just completely going for it. Woman in a sundress, shaking it back and forth without spilling the second half of her drink; A couple of businessmen out for a night during a layover; Short brunette busting out some fly girl moves not seen since In Living Color; Some jaw-some kid with ass length blonde hair and a complete tie-died outfit (with matching head-band), popping, locking, sliding, swerving, and whatever, all in a way that screamed drugs; A skinny guy with a flat-top and glasses, dancing with two girls and doing the robot. The fucking robot.

Everyone was getting down to the best of their ability; they were getting down to the combined forced of Master Blazter: L.A. musicians Dam-Funk, Computer Jay, and J-1. I had told my friends that we were going to a funk show, which was true in one sense, but totally misleading. Sure, the show was part of the SF Funk Fest, but for a lot of people, the term funk conjures up images of a bygone era of music, now performed by revivalists. Early in, Dam-Funk (his music’s greatest defender) got on the mic to clear this up, saying that what they were playing wasn’t “retro funk” – pronouncing retro like his wanted to spit – it was “modern funk.”

Whatever it is (some call it boogie funk), it’s got a heavy electronic sound, built on Dam-Funk’s Roland keyboards and shoulder synth (he also doesn’t like to hear people call that a keytar), Computer Jay’s beat work, and J-1’s breaks on the drum kit. A little bit of George Clinton/Sun Ra styled spaciness, mixed with some West Coast G rap cool, with some Prince style stage presence, there’s a lot of references to pick up, but the end product seems slightly futuristic. Not the reincarnation of Stevie Wonder in the year 2077, but like 14 months into the future, when all known musical genres have completed melded.

As a group, Master Blazter can jam out on a track, building it up beyond what the audience thinks it can take and holding it there, but knows when to shift and refocus attention, leading to some fairly memorable solos: Dam-Funk taking over on the drums for a super-syncopated session. Or, Computer Jay letting go of his giant console and coaxing a big, bouncy beat out of a little tiny controller with the playfulness of a child with a Gameboy. And, of course, Dam-Funk bringing his keyt – shoulder synth down into the crowd, letting the mob join in and smack the keys. The fact that the last one didn’t devolve into noise is a testament to how well the rest of the group grounded the beat.

The only lull in the evening came right before the encore moment. I don’t know if somebody actually said anything to him to occasion it, or if it was just a standard part of the show (I’m leaning this way,) but Dam-Funk went into a fairly long interlude mid-track about being called “nigga.” The beat seemed to hang on endless symbol crashes as Dam Funk asked “What makes me different from (insert black figure)?” MLK Jr., Malcolm X, Colin Powell, Bill Cosby. (I started to nervously laugh when he got to Cosby, the intensity ratcheting up out of nowhere, along with the many possible absurd answers to that rhetorical question.) This was mixed with declarations that this wasn’t just a “coon show.”* Maybe part of getting people to take his music as more than just dance music involves provocation, but in an interesting twist, and showing that he wasn’t just covering Sly Stone’s “Don’t Call Me Nigger, Whitey,” Dam-Funk said at one point he was speaking to the black guys in the audience “I’m not your nigga, I’m your brother.” If he wanted to challenge people, he did, as the atmosphere definitely changed, and a few tired couples seemed to take it as a cue to leave.

The energy down, it wasn’t enough to totally derail the night. Mainly because even when the DJ (possibly just picking up clues from the crowd) started playing records, J-1 came to the front of the stage and – with some throat slicing motions – signaled both “cut that shit off” and “this shows not over.” Dam-Funk returned to the stage (and smaller crowd) for an encore, which included the single “Hood Pass Intact.” Among Dam-Funk’s catchiest, straightforward songs, it’s a celebration of keeping it real, and a good option for introducing people to his music. Typically one of the easiest songs to get into, on Saturday night it was also the hardest to get to.

*Google “Dam Funk Antoine Dodson” for more on this topic.

Localized Appreesh: TurbonegrA

Tony Robles
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Localized Appreesh: TurbonegrA

Localized Appreesh is our weekly thank-you column to the musicians that make the Bay. Each week a band/music-maker with a show, album release, or general good news is highlighted and spotlit. To be considered, contact emilysavage@sfbg.com.

There’s a sizable difference between a cover band and a tribute band. TurbonegrA is a thrashing, slashing, spit-in-your-eye tribute to legendary Norwegian punk band Turbonegro.

I first learned of the original, Turbonegro, not through its death-rock music, but on a huge patch neatly stitched to the back of a jacket with these words: Turbojugend.  Turbojugend would be the Turbonegro Army, not dissimilar to the Kiss Army, but a whole lot sleazier. To find there’s an all-female testimonial to that kind of debauchery in our very own city of San Francisco, it’s a devilsend. Plus, with the originators currently without SF show dates, TurbonegrA is your only chance to catch the guitar-shredding theatrical doom live, for now at least.

The ladies in leather play next at Bottom of the Hill will fellow band-fans, Ancient Mariners (Iron Maiden tribute) and Beer Drinkers & Hell Raisers (ultimate ZZ Top worshipers). Should be a fist-pumping night.

Year and location: 2007, San Francisco
Band name origin: Female version of Turbonegro
Band Motto: ( Ich bin geil)
Description: An all-girl tribute to the infamous boys of Oslo.
Instrumentation: Hanky Panky – Amanda Guilbeaux ( lead vocals), Eurogirl – Shelley Cardiff ( lead guitar), Commander Col Pot – Katie Colpitts ( guitar and vocals), Happy Jom – Millie Clip ( bass), Ms. C’ass – Cassie Jalilie ( drums).
Most recent release: Shetox – 2011 and we also have a full length on Wolverine records in Germany titled – L’ass Cobras.
Best part about life as a Bay Area band: Fleet week
Worst part about life as a Bay Area band: Fleet week
First record purchased: I actually bought 12 records at once for only a penny!
Most recent record purchased: Uncommen Men from Mars ( France) – we had the honor of playing with them on our recent European tour. Locally we have to say we are big fans of Death Valley High.
Favorite local eatery : Esperpento. It’s cheap and fast – like us!

TurbonegrA
With Ancient Mariners, Beer Drinkers & Hell Raisers
Weds/9, 9 p.m., $10
Bottom of the Hill
1233 17th St, SF
www.bottomofthehill.com

A rendition of “Self Destructo Bust” performed, coincidentally, at Bottom of the Hill
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YaJQk3d4-8I

The Hangover: Nov. 3-5

Andrew Lam
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0

Jounce with us, if you will, through the Guardian staff’s frenzied weekend. Here’s our live reviews, hot raging, random sightings.

**I’m a firm believer in the idea that whenever Atlanta’s Mastodon comes to town, you must go. The last three times I saw the band, however, resulted in nearly identical experiences (with setlists culled largely from 2009 release Crack the Skye; the tour had a special visual component in the form of a trippy video synced to each song). Granted, Mastodon is one of the best live acts today, or in any era, I dare say — no fucking around, no stage banter, just solid rocking from opening notes to “Thank you, good night!” — but the same show three times did get a little tiresome. (That’s what you get for being obsessed.) Fortunately, the band’s set Thurs/3 at the Warfield was an outstanding mix of new songs (from brand-new disc The Hunter, an album stuffed with meaty rockers well-suited for live performance), plus songs from, yes, Skye, but also Remission, Blood Mountain, and personal favorite Leviathan (“Blood and Thunder” was the encore). Portland, Ore. openers Red Fang have their own cult following, very well-deserved. Come back soon and headline, Red Fang! (Cheryl Eddy)

**It’s not every day that you recieve a commendation from the State Senate for hosting a happy hour, but then you don’t work for an alt weekly that’s turning 45 years old all that often either. The Guardian’s 45th anniversary happy hour went off at the Buck Tavern last Thursday, to the tune of $1 Bud Lights (blame Executive Editor Tim Redmond’s atrocious taste in beverages), copious political cameos (including aforementioned appearance by State Senator Mark Leno and a big plaque), and tons of giveaway vibrators courtesy of Good Vibes. The end of the night was a little fuzzy, but I do recall a lot of female Baby Boomers stoked on their new sex toys and some delinquent reporters smoking weed in the beaded curtain room towards the back. Uncalled for. (Caitlin Donohue)

**I had to be pretty stoked on Das Racist to brave the armpit of San Francisco known as Ruby Skye – where the drinks are as overpriced as the staff is hostile – on Friday night. Despite the poor choice of venue, I had a pretty awesome time. In his signature skinny jeans, opener Danny Brown made groupies swoon with some debaucherous selections from his mixtape XXX. Das Racist’s set featured a ridiculous number of cameos, the best of  which was a swagger-drenched re-work of Dr. Dre’s “Xplosive” by Boots Riley of The Coup. A close second was scraggly-haired newcomer Lakutis, who dropped his absurdly catchy track, “Lakutis In The Haus,” and re-appeared for a verse on “Rapping 2 U.” Das Racist’s Himanshu Suri (a.k.a. Heems) strutted the stage playing air guitar and flashing rock star devil horns at the crowd. Though he did a stage dive early on, Victor Vazquez (a.k.a. Kool AD) seemed a little too relaxed. He messed with his phone and remained seated for the majority of the set. I don’t really blame him, though, as the sound issues at Ruby Skye were unrelenting. The sub-par sound accommodations didn’t stop fans from going bonkers over favorites like “Power” and “Michael Jackson.” Check out a full review with photos in Noise Blog later this week. (Frances Capell)

**We all know the story: Some dude records an album in a basement, garners considerable Internet attention, tries to perform live, and totally blows it. Fortunately for the audience at the Rickshaw Stop on Thursday night, Unknown Mortal Orchestra is a bold exception to this emerging parable in modern music. The hazy, cracked psych-pop tunes dreamed up by Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s progenitor Ruban Nielson blossomed and came to life with help from bandmates Jacob Portrait and Julien Ehrlich. See full review here. (Frances Capell) 

**There’s no real way of knowing how much crossover there was between the fans of Dresden Dolls singer-solo artist Amanda Palmer and fiction writer-poet Neil Gaiman before the two married last year. Now though? Well, it would have been amazingly helpful if the seating arrangement at the Palace of Fine Arts Friday night had been his and hers to properly delineate whose fans wear more Victorian-styled coats, Sherlock Holmes hats, video game references, tucked in long-sleeves t-shirts with jeans, early ’90s Jean-Claude Van Damme haircuts, and black. But since that didn’t happen, it was up to the audience to stake their own claims. “We’ve been Amanda fans for quite a while,” one man told the people sitting in front of him, arm draped over his companion. “We’ve been with her longer than he has.” (Ryan Prendiville)

**Despite the awesome spectacle (high kicks, guitar humping) and the resumes (Sleater-Kinney, Helium, the Minders) Wild Flag‘s music stands on its own. The indie rock foursome (don’t call it a supergroup) from Portland, Oreg. and Washington D.C. ripped the Great American Music Hall to shreds on Saturday night, likely Friday night too but I wasn’t there. Jumping on stage without a word and whipping through the first three songs of the set (all off the self-titled debut), the band set the bar high early; the energy between vocalist-guitarist Mary Timony and vocalist-guitarist Carrie Brownstein was instantly electric. The two snaked around one another, in classic sex-soaked rock god movements. Janet Weiss’ complex drumming remained a blissful flurry of pummeling hits. Organist Rebecca Cole added cool retro garage charm. This is a pack of insanely talented musicians, and the crowd fed off their every lick. It was a packed, attentive, ecstatic house.  See the full review here.  

**J-pop and the Ramones; a combination you might not hear anywhere else besides a Shonen Knife show. On Friday night, the Osaka-bred trio of pop punk rockers received audience cheers as we collectively spotted them through the window behind the stage at Bottom of the Hill, making their way down the stairs outside and into the venue. The band played crowd favorites off 2010’s Free Time, including first track “Perfect Freedom” and “Rock Society” off 2006’s Genki Shock. They covered “Redd Kross,” which is Yamano’s favorite band (not the Ramones?). They also highly recommended the burgers at Bottom of the Hill (which: really?) though Shannon Shaw, during the Shannon and the Clams set did mention that on their joint seven-day tour, she’d learned that Shonen Knife “really likes burgers, especially from Wendy’s.” (Emily Savage) 

**The skies opened up just like the forecast said on Saturday, just in time to soak 2011’s last few hours of Hard French at El Rio. The good news: no one was electrocuted (way to weather-protect your 45s, DJs Carnita and Brown Amy) and the party kept going straight on into Sly and the Family Stone’s 1968 hit “Everyday People”. And like, c’mon, as if anyone ever exited the dancefloor of the two-year-old queer soul party dry? (Caitlin Donohue)

New ‘Romance’: Wild Flag stole our hearts at Great American Music Hall

Tony Robles
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Despite the awesome spectacle (high kicks, guitar humping) and the resumes (Sleater-Kinney, Helium, the Minders) Wild Flag’s music stands on its own. The indie rock foursome (don’t call it a supergroup) from Portland, Oreg. and Washington D.C. ripped the Great American Music Hall to shreds on Saturday night, likely Friday night too, but I wasn’t there.

Jumping on stage without a word and whipping through the first three songs of the set (all off the self-titled debut), the band set the bar high early; the energy between vocalist-guitarist Mary Timony and vocalist-guitarist Carrie Brownstein was instantly electric. The two snaked around one another, in classic sex-soaked rock god movements. Janet Weiss’ complex drumming remained a blissful flurry of pummeling hits. Organist Rebecca Cole added cool retro garage charm. This is a pack of insanely talented musicians, and the crowd fed off their every lick. It was a packed, attentive, ecstatic house.

Ever the dry wit, Brownstein occasionally piped up with observations — “last night they said we brought the weather from Portland” and “I watched two depressing movies before the show — Girl, Interrupted and How To Die In Oregon.” A pre-game decision that she identified as a bad idea. Playing nearly every track off the album, including standout “Racehorse” and singles “Future Crimes” and “Romance” –  plus two promising new songs – the band retreated off stage after a tight hour.

When they returned for the first and only encore, Brownstein said she’d read a story online about Danzig being too cold at Fun Fun Fun Fest, which delayed his stage time, then she remarked about his need for shawl, buttering us up for a Misfits cover. “I don’t need a fucking shawl to sing a Misfits song,” she explained. Brownstein tricked us by asking if we liked the Misfits song “’Bullet” – cheers – “Yeah, I’m not going to play that, it’s fucking offensive.” Wild Flag launched into a garage version of “She.” Someone threw a shawl on stage. This was followed by a Television cover. The band closed out the impeccable set with a tingling cover of Patti Smith’s “Ask the Angels.”

While Wild Flag is essentially brand new (late 2010), the show felt nostalgic. It was the night of my 10-year high school reunion (which I chose not to attend for obvious reasons), and there were wistful pangs of youthful abandon. Having been just a tiny bit too young for the heart of riot grrrl, on the very teetering tip of the movement, I always felt like I was on the outside wishing to break in. But when the merch woman for Wild Flag at Great American Music Hall complimented my Bikini Kill tattoo, I was filled with pride. Listening to bands like Bikini Kill, Bratmobile, and Sleater-Kinney changed my young life for the better; no matter my non-traditional place in its legacy, riot grrrl brought me to feminism, to music as art, to journalism.

Yes, Wild Flag is a new –  and might I add, yet again, brilliant – project and should be judged as such, that demands a clean slate, but the members have been a part of the cultural female underground, the ongoing, endless discussion of riot grrrl, post-riot-grrrl, women in rock, and genderless musicianship for decades. It’s unavoidable and I think, a disservice to simply ignore. When do we stop talking about musicians based on sex? It’s a question I alone cannot answer but I think it starts with bands like these. I wasn’t  the only one claiming it album of the year/best show of the year –  female or not – I’ve heard that high praise elsewhere, everywhere.

Live Shots: Unknown Mortal Orchestra at Rickshaw Stop

Tony Robles
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We all know the story: Some dude records an album in a basement, garners considerable Internet attention, tries to perform live, and totally blows it. Fortunately for the audience at the Rickshaw Stop on Thursday night, Unknown Mortal Orchestra is a bold exception to this emerging parable in modern music.

The band has played here several times already this year, and I’d heard nothing short of glowing reviews. Still, I wasn’t fully prepared for just how successfully its tracks would translate to the stage. The hazy, cracked psych-pop tunes dreamed up by Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s progenitor Ruban Nielson blossomed and came to life with help from bandmates Jacob Portrait and Julien Ehrlich.

Portrait’s steady basslines provided the backbone to the band’s live set. Young Ehrlich took Neilson’s beats to new heights with playful and dynamic percussion. What impressed me most, however, was Nielson’s trippy, psychedelic guitar wizardry. Although it runs throughout the band’s debut album, I’d somehow overlooked the crazy talent Nielson fostered through years playing in his previous band the Mint Chicks. 

During opener “Little Blu House,” Nielson hunched down into the swirling layer of onstage fog and did some serious solo shredding. These face-melting moments became the highlight of each song thereafter, especially on “Thought Ballune” and breakout track “Ffunny Ffriends.” Additional weirdness came courtesy of Nielson’s super fancy microphone filtering his voice into a fuzzy, scratchy warble.

Maybe it was the rain, but the crowd seemed oddly stoic on Thursday night. Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s set warranted far more noodling than I witnessed at the Rickshaw Stop.

Opener: Denver, Colo., outfit Gauntlet Hair was a little down on its luck. The group’s first visit to California was plagued with rain, and leader Andy R. broke a guitar string during its first song. Despite minor setbacks, this flannel-clad foursome held it down for the Northwest with lots of shimmering guitars and Animal Collective-esque yelping, chant-like vocals. Drummer Craig Nice stole the show, inflicting a wild beating on a combination of acoustic and electronic drums.

 

If you missed it Thursday, both bands play New Parish this week:

Unknown Mortal Orchestra
With Gauntlet Hair
Nov. 7, 9 p.m., $8-10
The New Parish
579 18th St., Oakland
(510) 444-7474
www.thenewparish.com

We love the sound: Wild Flag will play the Great American Music Hall

Tony Robles
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Back in 2010, when the members of Wild Flag initially started playing music with one another, whether a band would be forged or not wasn’t altogether clear. Carrie Brownstein, Rebecca Cole, and Janet Weiss (all from Portland, Ore.) had been writing the score for art documentary !Women Art Revolution when they tapped Mary Timony, who lived in Washington D.C., to record vocals. One project naturally led to the other.

Given the bands they had played in before, you would think there’d be no question as to whether or not they’d make a good group: Brownstein and Weiss had Sleater-Kinney until it disbanded in the 2006, Timony led Helium in the 90s, while Cole had backed the Minders. However, the four weren’t certain. In theory, sure, but: “Everyone knows, whether, you’re a fan or a musician, that theories do not make good music,” Carrie Brownstein said in a phone interview on Thursday. Wild Flag is now north in San Francisco for a two-night stint at the Great American Music Hall starting Friday, Nov. 4. “We spent a lot of time working to figure out if the band was necessary.”

Necessary — it’s something Brownstein stresses about the band. And it seems that it not only determined the fate of Wild Flag, but also determines her involvement in just about any project, which likely explains the reason why everything she does, she does extremely well — she needs it, and it undoubtedly needs her. Her co-created IFC sketch comedy with Fred Armisen, Portlandia (whose second season begins in January), is spot on and hilarious. Her blog at NPR Music, Monitor Mix, was intelligent and delightful. And Sleater-Kinney was one of the most talented feminist-punk bands of the late 90s and early 2000s.

Now, Brownstein and the others have found Wild Flag necessary — the songs were telling them so. “The songs felt like they were being played by a band,” Brownstein explained, “not individual people with separate ideas that weren’t congealing into something interesting.”

After they announced that Wild Flag was official late last year, the band set out on tour, without an album or recorded songs, to play fairly small clubs (including Bottom of the Hill) and to give fans a pure, unadulterated listen to the band. Over the course of that tour, the band earned a reputation for its passionate live performances. Then, in April of this year, Wild Flag went into Sacramento’s the Hangar studio to record its self-titled debut, releasing it five months later on Merge.

The record is tough but catchy, original but accessible, and recalls just about every sub-genre between post-hardcore and classic hard rock. It also speaks to just how important music is to Wild Flag. “We love the sound, the sound is what found us/Sound is the blood between me and you,” they harmonize on the dynamic single, “Romance.” Most of the music besides the vocals on the album was recorded live as well, making it a raw and undisguised release.

“For our first album, we wanted an unadorned, mirror document of who we were — our capabilities, our presence, and our sound,” Brownstein said. “It was exciting to have a blank slate; to not be comparing or measuring ourselves to any previous body of work.”

Although the four musicians have been playing in bands for decades and they feel familiar, Wild Flag is itself still a very new project. Even for someone like Brownstein, who is in familiar territory. “I feel like this band is very recent and still in its infancy,” she says, “there are still a lot of places to go with it, and there are a lot of things I still don’t know about it.”

Clearly, this is just the beginning for Wild Flag. The members are anxious to move on from this point and explore the band and it’s ultimate potential. “We’re trying to just be present in the band and be in the middle of it. But at the same time, we’re impatient. I really want to have new songs, those are what I love playing live.”

“But,” she adds, “that’s not going to happen between now and San Francisco.”

Wild Flag
With Drew Grow & the Pastors Wives
Fri/4 and Sat/5, 9 p.m., $19
Great American Music Hall
859 O’Farrell, SF
www.gamh.com

The awesome video for “Romance”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8J8n9R8rnB8&ob=av2e

Live Shots: Anamanaguchi at Slim’s

Tony Robles
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The self-proclaimed “nerds” behind me in the will-call line at Slim’s Sunday night were lamenting the theft of their culture. “I hate it when hipsters try to act like us,” one said, with threatening hostility. “Because you’re not one of us, you don’t know what it’s like, and it’s not fucking cool.” Oh crap, I thought, looking straight ahead. Are they talking about me? Do they think I’m a poser, coming to this show because it’s hip? That I wear chunky orthopedics and thick rimmed glasses for the purpose of ironic style? I got my ticket and went inside as fast as I could, away from the geek toughs.

Luckily the show itself wasn’t as militantly nerdcore as the line. Anamanaguchi borrows the speed and intensity of punk rock, but also has other notable influences. The band that’s known for making songs inspired by 8bit video game soundtracks, started out with “Space Wax America,” a new song that not only nods to Weezer’s “Surf Wax America” but has a bouncy background beat that could fit in with happy Euro techno. (Or maybe that certain rave quality was just the armfuls of glowsticks the band threw out to the audience. Or the visuals: colorful anime references including dogs, cats, and a never quite resolving cthuhlu Pokemon.) It’s like Anamanaguchi takes all the fun parts from genres and ditches the rest. And the band looks to be having a blast, particularly guitarist/member-who-handles-most-mic-breaks, Peter Berkman, who performed in a clearly homemade and adorable Adventure Time costume.

The band created the soundtrack to the video game version of the Scott Pilgrim Versus The World graphic novels, so combined with Halloween eve, I wasn’t surprised to see some evil ex-boyfriends amongst the crowd. I was, however, caught off guard by what appeared to be a combination of Ramona Flowers and the The Dark Knight’s Joker, giant red lips and short green hair with long tufts hanging down in front of each ear. Afterward, I asked her if I was identifying it right and she said, “Well, Ramona Flowers is my everyday look, and I wanted to be the Joker, so I guess you could say yes.” I checked my wallet and looked around for the guys from the line. If they still had it in for me, I could always give the girl a twenty to tell them “He’s with me.”

Opener: During a song about Jesus and fucking asses up like a car crash, opener Knife City took a brief swig of his beer and proceeded to spit it over the crowd in the front. The reaction from the rest of the crowd, looks of disgust and puzzlement, quickly revealed who was punk or not.

Youth Lagoon kicks off his first national tour at Bottom of the Hill

Tony Robles
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My infatuation with Youth Lagoon is easy to explain. Youth Lagoon brainchild Trevor Powers and I have a lot in common. Like Powers, I’m an anxious kid who grew up in the scenic, laid back city of Boise, Id. The piano pop prodigy and I have our differences, though. For instance, I didn’t make one of 2011’s most surprising and heartfelt albums, The Year Of Hibernation (Fat Possum).



It was an evening of firsts at the Bottom of the Hill on Tuesday. The sold-out show marked the kick off of Youth Lagoon’s first national headlining tour. It was also Powers’ first time performing in San Francisco. With the way fans eagerly rushed the stage long before Powers appeared, you’d think he was a hometown hero. 

A hush fell over the audience as the shaggy-haired boy wonder laid out the tender leading notes of “Cannons.” Then the thunderclap of the drum machine kicked in, setting the crowd in motion and giving rise to appreciative hoots and hollers.

This became the pattern of Powers’ set; transfixing us with fragile, emotional delivery then compelling us to dance with his effervescent bedroom beats.

The highly personal nature of Powers’ music was intensified by his remarkably candid song introductions. I got a little verklempt when he revealed that “Bobby” was about his older brother easing his struggles with anxiety.



The Year Of Hibernation’s haunting guitar loops were skillfully re-created by Powers’ friend Logan Hyde. The duo’s entrancing rendition of “Daydream” was another first, as it had never before been performed for an audience. Seconds after closing with “July” and stepping offstage, the sheepish Powers returned for what seemed like an unplanned solo encore of his album’s bonus track, “Ghost To Me.”

Opener: Also making its San Francisco debut was Australian trio Young Magic. The group pulled off an occult vibe by placing lit candles on stage, layering lots of spooky, howling vocals, and rattling the venue with so much bass that my vision blurred. Though the spanking new group performed a super short set, it was enough catch my interest. I’m hereby pronouncing Young Magic a band to watch.

The Damned celebrates 35 years of punk at Slim’s

Tony Robles
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The Damned celebrates 35 years of punk at Slim’s

The Damned first turned heads back in 1976. On Saturday night, the UK punk band took to the stage at Slim’s as part of its 35th Anniversary Tour and proved it’s only grown better with time.

Led by founding members Dave Vanian and Captain Sensible, the current lineup of the group ripped through a set of two complete albums from start to finish; its debut LP, Damned Damned Damned, and its fourth release, The Black Album.

When he first walked out on stage and strapped on his guitar, Captain Sensible greeted the audience and thanked them for coming to the special anniversary show, saying with a smirk, “We’re going to play a couple of records that some people consider classics — I guess I can’t really comment on that.”

The band then launched into the first salvo of the opening bass notes of “Neat Neat Neat,” on to “New Rose,” “Drinking About My Baby,” “Hit Or Miss” and more, charging through the material, with the sold-out crowd singing along with Vanian’s goth punk-meets-rockabilly crooner vocals, and pulsing to the jackhammer rhythm section of drummer Pinch and bassist Stu Miller. Keyboardist Monty Oxy Moron presided over the proceedings like some sort of mad conductor or possessed version of Beethoven, his hands flailing wildly about when not pounding the keys.

After completing the two albums in their entirety, the group came back out for a short encore of other fan favorites, including “Jet Boy, Jet Girl,” (with Vanian encouraging the crowd to help him with the tune’s signature “woo-ooh-ooh-ooh!” chorus) and ending with the appropriately titled “Smash It Up.” Once again, the Damned cemented its reputation as one of the best bands to come out of the first wave of punk.

Localized Appreesh: The Sandwitches

Tony Robles
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Localized Appreesh is our weekly thank-you column to the musicians that make the Bay. Each week a band/music-maker with a show, album release, or general good news is highlighted and spotlit. To be considered, contact emilysavage@sfbg.com.

The Sandwitches are all about high highs and low lows. The vocals of Heidi Alexander and Grace Cooper (both former back-up singers for Fresh & Onlys) defy the bounds of San Francisco garage, piping up from low and fuzzed out to high-pitched and near theatrical. The music strays similiarly from convention, with an underlying garage-pop root that sometimes hits close to country-folk, other times lends itself more toward dewy trophy love song/doo-wap. It’s a sound that takes a minute to digest – and that’s a good thing.

You can check it out for yourself. The trio’s upcoming seven-inch single The Pearl is streaming now, here. And then you can go see it live. The Sandwitches will fill the opening slot of a pretty righteous show this week at the Fillmore, with headliners/Australian indie poppers Architecture in Helsinki and lo-fi American rockers DOM.

You may protest, “but that’s not how you spell sandwiches!” Yes, spelling wizards, it’s a play on words. Sand-witches. Witches of bread. Meaning sourdough with warts, or something less gross. Spooky PB&J? Bubbling cauldrons of BLT? Or as you’ll see below, the name simply came from “a process of elimination.”  It’s also way easier to Google.

Year and location of origin: 2009, Frisco, baby.
Band name origin: A process of elimination
Band motto: “More feeling”
Description of sound in 10 words or less: dingy, pingy, bumpy, pumpy, lumpy, brash, sophisticated, and smooth.
Instrumentation: Mexican telecaster, Mexican stratocaster, drum set
Most recent release: The Pearl/Benny’s Memory Palace 7″, Hardly Art
Best part about life as a Bay Area band:  The buds [ed note — double entendre?]
Worst part about life as a Bay Area band: The fog?
First record/cassette tape/or CD ever purchased:  Queen Greatest Hits I & II, Blue Beatles hits collection on tape.
Most recent record/cassette tape/CD/or Mp3 purchased/borrowed from the Web: Jackie Gleason, Music for Lover’s Only.
Favorite local eatery and dish: Chevys and fried chicken.

Sandwitches
With Architecture in Helsinki and DOM
Thurs/3, 8 p.m., $20-$29
Fillmore
1805 Geary, SF
(415) 346-6000
www.livenation.com

The Hangover: Oct.23-28

Andrew Lam
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Fever dreams and wardrobe malfunctions: all about Halloween Weekend 2011 (and it’s still not over!)

**It’s a little nerve-wracking going out in costume for a show when it’s not  quite yet Halloween. What if no one else dresses up and it’s a scene out of  Legally Blonde? Luckily the bands at Brick and Mortar (Zulus, Uzi Rash, Apache, Nobunny, Ty Segall)  were slated to perform costumed covers, so I figured it would be safe. (Plus, I  spent enough money making the damn thing to ensure I’d be living with my dad for an additional month — so I was gonna milk it.) Still, when I got inside the venue, I scouted to find some other outfits among black  clothes and leather. A guy was wearing a 1994 USA Olympic Dream Team  windbreaker (“Carl Mullen” he told me, pointing to one of the figures  with a basketball) and a still priced-tagged Batman cap, so I assume that he was the first of many Tyler the Creators, despite his refusal. Another guy was dressed as Middle Aged Business Man Who Has Too Much To Drink, Tries To Mosh Too Early, And Is Never Seen Again, but this was easily topped by the best costume of the night: Totally Trashed Crazy Girl (Ryan Prendiville)

**If you were in the back of the Prospector in Long Beach, Calif. on Saturday night, you likely saw my glowing light saber sharking through moshing bodies up front for the Shitfits, a Misfits cover band (actually, the members of now-defunct math rock act the Valley Arena) that comes together just once a year at this special time. The musicians, who are now spread out across the U.S. in San Francisco, New York City, and Long Beach, have been dressing up as the Shitfits for the past six or so Halloweens, though they claimed this perhaps could be their last. My saber disappeared sooner than I’d hoped, when an angry, long-haired, ratfink tried to start some shit in the pit. This is Halloween, man, we’re here to celebrate ghoulish punk, not incite brocious pummeling. No matter, the sweaty set tore it up, kicking off with “Where Eagles Dare” and ending bittersweetly with “Last Caress. (Emily Savage) 

** South by Southwest favorites White Denim helped draw a sizable crowd in support of Manchester Orchestra to the Regency Ballroom on the Friday before Halloween. The Austin, Texas locals did not, however, save for a few ripping solos and a lap around the stage that coincided with some lyrics about running (I think), perform memorably for the sparsely costumed audience. White Denim played jammy, hip indie rock with, albeit, some interesting twists and breakdowns, and certainly with no lack of musicianship, but the set failed to deliver any standout moments. Instead, it seemed to fade into a background noise of other, similar bands with able musicians at the helm playing decent rock’n’roll to the Coachella generation. (Cooper Berkmoyer)

**There were art shags aplenty (and some lovely folks haven’t shown their faces on the nightlife scene in a while) at the tongue-through-cheek orgiastic spectacle that was Thursday’s “Ann Magnuson plays David Bowie and Jobriath, or, the Rock Star as Witch Doctor, Myth Maker, and Ritual Sacrifice” at the SF MoMA’s Halloween installment of its nighttime Now Playing series. While the live show featuring the beloved New York performance artist and Bongwater singer — backed by a fantastic four-piece live band — wasn’t quite as long as its title, it did covera whole lot of ground. Practically David Bowie’s entire career catalog got a glance, refracted through a bloody Mayan-type ritual enactment, with piñata even. But that was just the first bit. Jobriath, revered gay glam rock cult star who burnt out early and later died of AIDS, was resurrected and his tunes reverently trotted out by the always mesmerizing Ann. But in the end it was Beelzebub, the half-naked gogo “acolyte” dancing onstage throughout the entire show, who won. Imagine a wide-eyed Eyeore on ecstacy and you’re halfway there. (Marke B.)

**Santa Cruz did what it does best this weekend: dress up like crazies. Also: Peewee Herman! And motorcycle riders. And a Goldigger (why is that still a costume?). They had to, so that the surfers could be distracted from the fact that the Santa Cruz Coldwater Classic hit a weekend of sub-par waves in front of the town’s lighthouse. Not disappointing at all: the grin on eventual winner, Brazilian Miguel Pupo. Or the fish taco truck. No lines! (Caitlin Donohue)

**The season was in full effect Friday night at Kimo’s, with three costumed bands and quite a few creatively-attired audience members, including a dead-on Jack White. (It seemed all of Polk Street was in the Halloween spirit, for that matter, though the girls dressed as “slutty Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” really should’ve known better.) Anyway, rockers Heavy Action — with ghostly back-up dancer — took the stage first with a raft of 70s covers (including “Boris the Spider,” complete with a prop spider), followed by punk-band-with-songs-about-Van-Damme-movies Dalton (all members were dressed as Wayne’s World characters). Headliners Street Justice moonlighted as “Sesame Street Justice” for the night. Turns out that in addition to teaching children about friendship, Bert and Ernie are also capable of throwing down big time. Who knew?(Cheryl Eddy)

**Trannyshack Halloween: A Party was OK on Saturday. Most of the drag numbers were recycled and a little tired, although a neatly choreographed dance number by several of our finest Asian zombie queens, the Rice Rockettes, to “Heads Will Roll” was cuuute. Hostesses Peaches Christ and Heklina seemed to be in a bad mood — and when secret guest costume contest judge Tommy Lee failed to show up, their wrath exploded. Playing his apology voicemail over the PA (he claimed he had “a show tomorrow so really need my rest … rock on, ladies!”) they could barely conceal their disappointment. And usually ace retro DJ Omar seemed a bit on autopilot — although Oingo Boingo’s “Dead Man’s Party” sounds great right now, and Mary J. Blige’s first album is really making a comeback through a wide variety of DJs. Some of the costumes were dope and we still danced to the wee hours. (Marke B.)

 

Live Shots: Soulwax at the Independent

Tony Robles
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0

Whether more or less true in other places, the crowds at shows in the Bay Area can be disappointingly savvy regarding encores. They know that if the band says goodnight and leaves the stage, the show is only possibly over. Or if recorded music comes over the speakers, the show is likely over. And (of course everyone knows) that when the house lights come on, the show is definitely over. It’s a convention that the bands and audience both understand, but robs everyone of some fun. Which was why it was wonderfully surprising that the majority of the people at the Independent Thursday night stuck around clapping, shouting, and making noise ’till it hurt in an attempt to get Soulwax to come back out on stage.

Didn’t happen. The staff of the club kept cranking the volume of the music louder, finally getting on the mic to announce that it was really over, everyone actually had to leave. Anyone that wants more will need to check out the Live 105 Subsonic Halloween Ball at the Regency Ballroom tonight, where the Dawaele brothers will be headlining as one of their many other aliases/projects, 2manydjs. Which may be confusing for anyone outside of Belgium, the UK, or Soulwax’s extremely dedicated fan base.

Essentially, what the folks at the show on Thursday (many of whom seemed to have traveled to be there and may have paid hefty sum to the scalpers outside) got was Soulwax, the four-part electronic rock band, which is a bit of an oddity in that its last conventional album was 2004’s Any Minute Now. Nonetheless it’s continued to tour and perform the earlier material, reworking and tightening it up. Which basically means that as a group, Soulwax has its act down: matching suits, tons of strobes to go with them, and the music, a no-nonsense succession of synthed out, percussive tracks that go from brooding to funky to electro without ever stopping. (Maybe part of the reason that people wanted an encore so bad – shortly after a screaming sing-along rendition of “NY Excuse” – was that without the breaks the ending just snuck up on them.) When I say they don’t stop, I mean it; for a band, Soulwax transitions seamlessly, with the skill of great DJs.

Which the Dawaele brothers are, primarily under that other name: 2manydjs. That’s been their focus the last couple of years, culminating in the creation of Radio Soulwax, an ongoing collection of 24-hour long theme mixes available online, accompanied by some pretty crafty visuals created from the sampled album covers. (I’ve found listening to it to be a great way to power through the work day, assuming 5 Hour Energy, coffee, or cocaine doesn’t work for you.) As Soulwax, the band put on a hell of a show–supported by Goose, a group that understands everyone can switch from keyboards to guitars as much as they want, provided that the drummer kicks hard and lays down some tommy gun fills–but 2manydjs may be able to top it. According to an avowed fan I talked to last night (the kind that has the white label vinyl and wears black glasses without lenses–hopefully as an early Halloween costume,) 2manydjs is the “real deal.” Somehow, as an encore, it might be the rare case where the DJ set is better than the band.

Live 105’s 3rd Annual Subsonic Halloween Ball
With 2manydjs, Fake Blood, Bag Raiders, Classixx, Tenderlions, Aaron Axelson, and more
Mon/31, 5:45 p.m., $25-$90
Regency Ballroom
1300 Van Ness, SF
(800) 745-3000
www.theregencyballroom.com

Manchester Orchestra delivers the Southern riffs at the Regency Ballroom

Tony Robles
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1

 

South by Southwest favorites White Denim helped draw a sizable crowd in support of Manchester Orchestra to the Regency Ballroom on the Friday before Halloween. The Austin, Texas locals did not, however, save for a few ripping solos and a lap around the stage that coincided with some lyrics about running (I think), perform memorably for the sparsely costumed audience.

White Denim played jammy, hip indie rock with, albeit, some interesting twists and breakdowns, and certainly with no lack of musicianship, but the set failed to deliver any standout moments. Instead, it seemed to fade into a background noise of other, similar bands with able musicians at the helm playing decent rock’n’roll to the Coachella generation.

Headliners Manchester Orchestra, on the other hand, delivered where White Denim almost, so close, really, but didn’t. Although named after a city half a world away, this quintet didn’t hide its Atlanta, roots, with booming Southern riffs made for long haired swaying.

Singer Andy Hull’s voice carried the night; his powerful and versatile vocal chords were the perfect accompaniment to songs that often hinged on a transition from Elliot Smith-like emotive indie rock to Weezer-esque arena worship. The crowd was rocking right along with the rest of the band, especially the keyboard player – what is it about keyboard players in rock bands that makes them feel like they have to overcompensate? There was plenty of singing along, dancing and no-joke raised lighters to top it all off.

These songs made up the bulk of the set and, while enjoyable, were relatively formulaic. The most interesting part of Manchester Orchestra’s set was not these anthems, but instead the several shorter songs interspersed throughout: a handful of minute or so long tunes reminiscent of Billy Bragg or early Against Me! that showcased Hull’s songwriting prowess. Sappy? Perhaps. Awesome? Indeed.

A very Nobunny Halloween turns crazy, quickly

Tony Robles
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0

It’s a little nerve-wracking going out in costume for a show when it’s not quite yet Halloween. What if no one else dresses up and it’s a scene out of Legally Blonde? Luckily the bands at Brick and Mortar (Zulus, Uzi Rash, Apache, Nobunny, Ty Segall) were slated to perform costumed covers, so I figured it would be safe. (Plus, I spent enough money making the damn thing to ensure I’d be living with my dad for an additional month–so I was gonna milk it.) Still, when I got inside the venue, I scouted to find some other outfits among black clothes and leather. A guy was wearing a 1994 USA Olympic Dream Team windbreaker (“Carl Mullen” he told me, pointing to one of the figures with a basketball). Another guy was dressed as Business Man Who Has Too Much To Drink, Tries To Mosh Too Early, And Is Never Seen Again, but this was easily topped by the best costume of the night: Totally Trashed Crazy Girl.

Totally Trashed Crazy Girl is an excellent example of how to pull off a costume. Because it’s not just about the outfit. Hers was simply a black dress, although she gained (some would say stole) some accessories throughout the night. By itself, not enough to make people understand the costume, but she also committed to the concept. (Because really, who wants to stand around all night explaining how you’re a Totally Trashed Crazy Girl when they ask “What are you supposed to be?”).

As soon as the Zulus came onstage performing as the Stooges, it was clear that TTCG would have to step up her game. Because let’s face it, it’s hard to show up Iggy Pop and Zulus’ Iggy was on it. Launching into “Search and Destroy,” he almost immediately flew into the crowd, where he would spend half his time, when not contorting his body into extreme poses onstage. Simply trying to wave the lead singer down mid-song would not prove to be a strong enough tactic for TTCG.

And step it up she did. While Uzi Rash covered the Undertones, TTCG took to pulling on the lead singer’s pant legs. Initially, slightly bothered, saying “Would you stop that?”, Uzi Rash’s version of Feargal Sharkey eventually just blew her off with bursts of microphone feedback before walking over her with his bare feet.

During its set, Apache’s singer asked if there were any drinks for his Dead Boys. Someone in the audience passed up a partially full flask of Jack Daniel’s Honey Whiskey, which was passed around by the band before being set down by the kit. This is where TTCG proceed to creep onstage and grab it for herself. “No!” the original owner of this questionable liquor said, “That’s not for you!” and took it away.

Now fully in the spirit of the role, TTCG was comfortable being on stage, seeking out any drinks or Reese’s Cups that happened to be evading her. Ty Segall as the Gories took it upon himself to eject her mid-song, screaming “Get this girl off the stage, motherfuckers!”

The bands had a lot to contend with that night in addition to TTCG, in particular stolen setlists taken by overzealous fans. Nobunny, doing his best David Johansen (all the New York Dolls were looking pretty good), had to request that they give it back, “or at least just shout out the next song.” Fittingly, it was “Bad Girl,” during which TTCG made her final appearance. (Clearly it had to be a costume – how else could she have survived the night? Five bands!) “You’re a bad girl,” admonished Nobunny. “Only because you keep punching me in my dick and I don’t like it.” Just to show that there were no hard feelings, he later awarded TTCG a red feather boa.

Hans-Joachim Roedelius celebrates his 77th birthday at Cafe Du Nord

Tony Robles
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“What a cerebral evening,” a show companion observed as we exited Cafe Du Nord last night, pushing the doors open to a whoosh of cool fall air. Indeed. For the man who’s seen it all, first as a child actor in 1930s Germany, then as a reluctant member of the Hitler Youth, and finally a pioneer of early experimental krautrock in the 1970s and ambient jazz, Hans-Joachim Roedelius (Cluster/Harmonia) was not the confrontational artist one might expect. Tall and bald with wire-rimmed glasses, he was erudite, pleasant, subdued.

He looked concentrated while constructing music, focused mainly on lilting keyboard and buzzing MOOG and an Allen & Heath ZED 14 mixer (note: I read the back of machines well), but between the pieces Roedelius smiled wide, nearly goofy. It was his 77th birthday, a rather special occasion. He kicked off the set with a startling sample of America’s national anthem, followed by a half-hour-long piece of ambient drone. He then told us he’d play Europe’s national anthem and out came a crackling Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 (“Ode to Joy”).

The crowd, mostly casual in black hoodies and  sportscoats, wished the living legend well, and sang him “Happy Birthday” (English version). Roedelius looked pleased, thanking us back repeatedly, tipping his handled glass of amber liquor. I guessed it spiced rum, just to keep it casual, another show companion thought perhaps brandy. Astute observations all around, companions.

An aside. These are the sounds I heard (or perhaps conjured) during the set of experimental openers, XAMBUCA:
1. Fat drops of metal tears.
2. Supposedly what it sounds like to have cochlear implants (according to a This American Life episode)
3. Fuzzy ham radio waves
4. A swarm of electronic birds
5. The knock-knock-knocking of a looming horror movie villain

 

*Note: excuse the red-soaked tone of the images. But really gives you a sense of the humming womb ambience, no?

Himalayan Bear turns out one of the greatest shows of the year at Hemlock Tavern

Tony Robles
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Himalayan Bear turns out one of the greatest shows of the year at Hemlock Tavern

Tuesday night, while all my friends tweeted incessantly about Male Bonding at the Rickshaw Stop, I was quietly preparing for Himalayan Bear at the Hemlock Tavern. After writing an article on Himalayan Bear’s Hard Times (Absolutely Kosher), I found myself obsessively revisiting the album.

Each time I listened to Ryan Beattie’s range-vaulting voice and dark, reverb-drenched guitar, yet another reason to love the album revealed itself to me. I spotted Beattie grabbing a beer and a shot at the bar before ducking back into the dimly lit concert room. I made a mad dash to catch what I knew would be a memorable set. What I didn’t know was that his performance would turn out to be one of the greatest things I’ve seen all year.

As soon as Beattie launched into the first wailing guitar notes of the title track, “Hard Times,” and began crooning with that mournful, impassioned voice, I was floored. Assisted
by his brother Patrick Beattie on keys, Megan Boddy on viola, and Matt Skillings on drums, Beattie treated us to Hard Times in its entirety. Years spent playing guitar in Frog Eyes have paid off; Beattie filled the tiny room with lush reverberation. He floated marvelously in and out of his divine trademark falsetto.

Witnessing this cathartic performance in such an intimate setting, I felt as if I’d cheated somehow. Standing there, enraptured by Beattie, I recalled what he told me the first time we spoke: “To me, playing live is the greatest thing ever.”

Think this is Judas Priest’s final concert? You’ve got another thing coming

Tony Robles
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With some of the most memorable and recognizable heavy metal anthems ever put to tape or performed live, Judas Priest has been at the forefront of the scene for some 40 years now. Featuring singer Rob Halford’s piercing vocals, the twin guitar attacks of Glenn Tipton and K.K. Downing, and the rock solid rhythm section of Ian Hill and Scott Travis, the band has come a long way from its humble beginnings in Birmingham, England, where it earned the moniker, “Metal Gods.”

Songs such as “The Ripper,” “Breaking The Law,” “Living After Midnight,” “Hell Bent For Leather,” and “You’ve Got Another Thing Comin’” are among just a few of the classic tracks that fans will be able to sing along with the band when they take the stage in Concord tonight. Although this outing for Judas Priest is being dubbed the “Epitaph” tour, and some venues are advertising it as a “farewell” tour, that doesn’t exactly mean what it might imply, as Halford explains over the phone from a tour stop in Las Vegas.

“We don’t want to get wrapped up in these farewell fiascos where people say ‘We’re quitting,’ and then come back three years later, we think that’s not a very cool thing to do, so we’re making it plain and clear to fans that this is not the end of Priest — this is our last world tour, but we will be going out for selected shows in the future.”  Halford, who recently turned 60, said the band’s decision to stop undertaking massive world tours after this one was due in part to several factors, with the desire to continue to making quality music and put on the caliber of shows that fans have come to expect from Judas Priest being the ultimate reason.

“We’re just facing mortality and reality — the fact that these big world tours take a couple of years to accomplish, and we’re such a physically demanding bunch of guys, we really push each other on stage, so it’s a workout as much as anything else. We just had three back to back shows and I’m feeling it today,” Halford says.

He promises fans an epic concert tonight, worthy of the band’s storied reputation — a nearly two and a half hour set featuring songs spanning the entire spectrum of it’s career, and of course, an elaborate stage show, complete with the lights, lasers, smoke, costume changes, and more. The singer adds that he will ride out on his signature Harley-Davidson motorcycle, which is something done for JP tradition, and it also represents something for him personally.

“The Harley really represents rock ‘n’ roll — it’s made of metal, which is very apropos, and then of course it’s loud and smells and pisses certain people off. Rock ‘n’ roll should still be a kick in the butt, it should still be offensive to some people who don’t understand it.”

As a sign that Judas Priest really is going to continue on in the future, Halford says the band is working on a new album. With most of the songs already written, he hopes to record and have it out sometime next year.  “We’ve been in each other’s lives for so long, it would just seem an impossible thought not to see each other again, and not to work with each other again. There will be more to come,” Halford laughs, “as Johnny Carson used to say…that’s showing my age!”

He ends in a more serious tone: “It’s a combination of a lot of feelings and emotions when you’ve been doing something as wonderful as we have for the last four decades — we’ve loved every minute of it.”

Judas Priest
With Thin Lizzy and Black Label Society
Thurs/27, 6pm, $20-$108.50.
Sleep Train Pavilion  
2000 Kirker Pass, Concord
www.livenation.com

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