The garage scene may be in vogue, but Golden Animals have delved even further into rock music’s roots: they’ve taken their sound back to the sun-soaked porch, giving their tunes the dreamy warmth of a wild afternoon breeze and a woolly charm as endless as the sky.
Golden Animals, captured on film by Victoria Smith
This Salton Sea-dwelling duo has fashioned Californian blues themes of freewheeling cumulo-surrealism with just a drumset and an electric guitar, and vocalist Tommy Eisner’s uncanny Doors-ian croon is the silver lining — imagine if Jim Morrison hadn’t gotten so obsessed with the idea of Paris and had wandered into the desert like we always thought he would.
Golden Animals, “Big Red Rose”
Golden Animals, “The Steady Roller”
GOLDEN ANIMALS
with Zodiac Death Valley, the Broads
8 p.m., $6
Thee Parkside
1600 17th St., SF
(415) 252-1330
www.theeparkside.com
Text and photos by Ariel Soto. Devendra Banhart performs again Thu/16 at Yoshi’s SF
“You’re a sexy beast!” someone shouted from the crowd, as Devendra Banhart made his way onto the stage of the Independent to a sold out show, Tuesday, April 14th. After the openers, The Healing Curse, left the stage, Devendra started with an acoustic set and then later was joined by his band, serenading his fans with songs of about sweet little birds, wild wolves, and Latin love.
Is it just me or do the over-produced vocal stylings on A-Trak’s “Kilometer” remix resemble Justin Timberlake? Prepare for more heavy, dark, French synth pop from a stylishly hairy Parisian: Sebastien Tellier returns to SF on Friday at Mezzanine — in a precursor performance to his part in Coachella‘s blowout weekend, where he’ll be juxtaposed with the likes of Calexico, Throbbing Gristle, and Paul McCartney.
Speaking of Sir Paul, Tellier looks a bit like a cross-hybridization of John and Yoko from the hair peace-bed peace, gurus in drag phase. A white suit outfit, scraggly beard, straight long brown mane, and oh-so-Yoko wraparound shades have never looked better combined on one person.
Is Sebastien Tellier a cyborg fusion of these two? Yoko took wraparounds to another dimension in her wack-wonderful Starpeace phase
Late of the Pier is catchy while still retaining an essential core of flighty, fidgety weirdness. With its askew harmonics, squelchy synths, and wildly off-key vocals, Fantasy Black Channel (Parlophone, 2008) marks the big label debut of a band bent on peddling an oddball sound to the masses, to say nothing of a kitschy aesthetic. The album’s cover presents a haphazard assortment of drums, kits, cords, and keyboards scattered atop outcroppings of granite — an apt visual for the band’s chaotic approach. Some tracks suggest a recorder switched to on-mode at the site of a train wreck, while others rescue some order from the mayhem. Discerning musical adherents will peg the group as contemporaries of outfits like Metronomy, Hot Chip, and Klaxons. This quartet is inventive and almost extreme in how far they’re willing to take their sprawling multipart sagas, instrumental transitions and elaborate glam guitar breakdowns. Plain-jane indie rock outfits have nothing on them.
Two quick takes on Junior Boys, who perform tomorrow with Max Tundra at Bimbo’s (Thu/16, 7 p.m., $18. Bimbo’s 365 Club, 1025 Columbus, SF. www.bimbos365club.com)
Junior Boys
Begone Dull Care
(Domino)
Johnny Ray Huston:
The knives are out at least a little for the critics’ darling duo, and to be fair, this third full-length falters a bit in following the breakthrough of 2007’s So This is Goodbye. But "Work" might be Junior Boys’ best composition, and "Sneak a Picture" is simply sweet. A reward for those who care enough to dig: the title and lyrics braid through the life and work of Canadian animator Norman McLaren.
When Blossom Dearie passed at the age of 84 this February, the world of jazz and cabaret lost perhaps its lightest, sweetest, and wittiest voice, not to mention a pianist of subtle grace. But Dearie’s contributions to recorded music, the American songbook, and even children’s television remain for people to discover and veteran fans to celebrate. The singer and songwriter Jacqui Naylor is paying tribute to Dearie in concert this week at Yoshi’s SF. We recently discussed the singular charms of Dearie, and her influence, via email.
Jacqui Naylor
SFBG When was the first time you saw Blossom live on stage? What impressions or favorite memories do you have from her performances? Jacqui Naylor I first saw Blossom with my vocal teacher, Faith Winthrop, in 1997 in San Francisco at the Great American Music Hall. I fell in love with her unmistakably sweet voice, quirky delivery and unmatched style.
Blossom’s voice was small and large at the same time and she used her nice range to tell the story of a song with sincerity, rather than over singing it, sometimes with a little sweet vibrato at the top and sometimes with an almost speaking quality in her middle and lower register. I appreciated that she made the most of every lyric, especially with such a diverse repertoire, everything from lovingly sung ballads to wit-filled swing tunes and songs that she wrote. I was also struck by the fact that she was selling her CDs herself and taking the time to sign them for people. I have a few that I cherish from that evening. She is the only artist from whom I’ve felt compelled to get a signature.
Blossom Dearie sings “Surrey With the Fringe on Top”
SFBGDid you know Blossom? JN I saw Blossom on a number of occasions in New York and met her through my distributor, John Nustvold, from Ryko/Warner. He is also a big fan of her work and was hopeful to get her music out to more people. We dreamed that maybe there were even some unreleased tracks that we could help bring to market.
I should say here that Blossom not only inspired me musically but also in her business savvy, since she was one of the first artists to own her own label, Daffodil Records. It was great to meet her and tell her how much she had affected me, inspiring my own Ruby Star Records and my determination to find a sound that was uniquely mine. It is because of her that I stopped worrying about whether I sounded like a traditional jazz singer and instead focused on telling the stories of the songs I chose to sing in a ways that felt true to me. Because of her, I also began to imagine bringing humor to my music and shows by reinterpreting the idea of modern cabaret songs, and by writing songs that might inspire people. Many of the songs Blossom chose to sing touted words of spring, birds, love, flight, and yes, blossoms. And even when she sang the most cruel and humorous cabaret song, she did so with a sense of compassion, humility and good fun. Famous for refusing to sing unless her audience was quiet, Blossom did so politely and without malice. A true talent with a lot of grace and charm.
After the jump: Schoolhouse Rock, grape-peeling appeal, great live clips, “Blossom’s Blues” and Dearie’s musicianship,
Whoa, total drum ’n bass flashback time, as one of the original innovators, Roni Size, reprazents on Friday at 103 Harriet with toasty Dynamite MC providing the wicked verbiage, and — what the freak — dub legend Mad Professor and the “dubstep prodigy” craziness of DJ Seven providing backup. Apparently Size still matters.The Bay’s fiery Compression crew opens up, so time to do some bass drops.
This party oughta be an ear-hair-blazing connect-the-dots from dub to drum ‘n bass to dubstep for all you hedz out there… and damn if looking up old Roni clips isn’t already hearkening me back to simpler days and thicker floors (especially this track, which pretty much worked as atmospheric-breaks gods LTJ Bukem and MC Conrad‘s main template for years — check out the second half of the live video below). Roni Size w/ Mad Professor and Seven
Fri/17, 10 p.m., $15 advance
103 Harriet, SF www.sunsetpromotions.net
Roni Size, “Dirty Beats”
Roni Size with Dynamite MC, live in Milan 02/08
Mad Professor, Kunta Kinte Dub ’91 (love, love this)
Johan Agebjörn
featuring Lisa Barra Mossebo
(Lotuspike)
Paging Vangelis: the songwriter and studio whiz behind Sally Shapiro (and official Glass Candy remixer) goes new age, replete with the requisite peaceful, tranquil blurry cover art. I’m not as enthused about this as I am about the news that a new Shapiro album is due out this year. Loaded with music, Agebjörn’s site also links to the site for Diskokaine, a label which put out some early Shapiro songs. I say this because DIskokaine’s site has a great Atari- or Commodore-era look — and is annoying as hell.
Johan Agebjörn featuring Lisa Barra, “Unitas vitae” (Live in Linköping)
O to be as spry and energetic at 74: Leonard Cohen launched his three-performance stand at the Paramount Theatre in Oakland last night, April 13, with an approximately three-hour concert that had the audience chuckling with amazement when the singer-songwriter came back for a fourth encore. “I tried to leave you,” he moaned.
Cohen had the crowd in his clenched fist throughout multiple standing ovations and a set that fundamentally mirrored that of his recent Live in London DVD and CD. And he put up a good fight, alternating between standing with his knees slightly bent, hands grasping mic and chord, in a boxer’s posture, and kneeling as if a humble mendicant – the latter his favorite way to open an emotionally intense song.
The songwriter received bursts of appreciative applause for lines like, “You told me again you preferred handsome men / but for me you would make an exception,” and, “You fixed yourself, you said, “Well never mind, / we are ugly but we have the music,” from “Chelsea Hotel No. 2,” a song about written about his affair with Janis Joplin. So long ago, yet still so vivid. This beautiful loser has morphed into a wiry, elegant slip of a man, skipping gracefully off the stage after each encore then back. From afar, Cohen resembles less William Burroughs, a Blues Brother, or a Bogart-esque “Tough Jew” like Bugsy Siegel than a smiling Stuart Little-like gent, revealing a snowy white pate beneath the fedora and a fiercely ingenuous grin. There’s a hard-won innocence to the performer, though he was less chatty and more focused than on the recent Live in London. Likewise backup vocalists the Webb sisters chose to chartwheel rather than do-si-do to that key reworked phrase, “All the lousy little poets / coming round / tryin’ to sound like Charlie Manson / and the white girls dancin'” in the charred apocalyptic ode “The Future.”
“Hey, That’s No Way to Say Goodbye”: A still from Live in London.
Yonder Mountain String Band has serious groupies. I mean really hardcore groupies. I talked to several String Band fans in the audience before the show. For one person it was his 36th time seeing Yonder Mountain and he has plans to follow the band through California and then up to Oregon for their tour. There was another woman in the audience who said she saw them at least 70 times … how is that even possible? By then I was excited for the show to get started — who were these string strummers? Once the band made its way to the stage the Fillmore was thoroughly saturated with sweet smelling smoke, feet were stomping, and hippy skirts were twirling as the folksy, bluegrass notes weaved their way between the band’s eager, dare I say, obsessed, devotees.
Anyone who heard "Big Brother Beat" on De La Soul’s 1996 album Stakes Is High (Tommy Boy) was soon saying, "Who’s this kid Mos Def?" Still, it’s hard to believe that, 13 years later, the radiant voice on that track would become the ubiquitous scion of that good old Native Tongue can-do.
Mos Def can turn up simultaneously in a movie (his next project is a film version of Iceberg Slim’s Mama Black Widow) and on a television show (you catch him on House last a few weeks ago?), yet still find time to cameo on other people’s albums, win an Obie for his performance in a play (Suzan Lori Parks’ Fuckin’ A), and come out with a book (Black 2.0, due this summer). It’s like, wait a minute, there’s got to be more than one Mos Def.
His four albums explore his tortured id and black people’s rightful place as the inventors of rock ‘n’ roll and just about all forms of popular music — all that, and they still maintain the dedication to socially conscious protest we’ve come to expect from our once and future truth-tellers. His fifth, The Ecstatic, is due later this year. He’s coming to Yoshi’s in Oakland for a few sets with Robert Glasper on piano, Mark Kelly on bass, Chris "Daddy" Dave on drums, Casey Benjamin on sax, and Keyon Harrold on trumpet. Be a part of history in the making. It’s not like you have a choice. His name is Most Definite, not Think So.
MOS DEF Tues/14–April 16, 8 and 10 p.m., $55. Yoshi’s Oakland, 510 Embarcadero West, Oakl. (510) 238-9200. www.yoshis.com
Stereo Somewhere in the Night
(Minimal Wave 2008/ Carrere 1982)
“She’s gotta be there, as you walk in the dark
Number four, at your door, number four
You’re ost in the heaze, she’s gotta be there…
Somewhere in the night”
1980s duo Stereo‘s criss-cross sunglasses put Kanye’s Venetian shades to shame. Minimal Wave delivers once again with this synth jam gem. I’m on the lookout for another recent Minimal Wave release, a vinyl-only collection by Linear Movement. But Stereo — not to be confused with Kompakt figurehead Wolfgang Voigt’s early recording project of the same name — has surprising songwriting chops. My fave track might be “Nowhere in the Island,” which uses the echo vocal effect so beloved by circa-1983 new romantic acts to great effect. It includes saxophone and yet still has a potent air of melancholy. I wonder if these two French guys every rubbed pointy shoulders with Bernard Fevre of Black Devil Disco Club.
It took me too long to realize all my favorite tracks on 1972’s classic Clube de Esquina are written by Lô. The cover of Lô’s debut album is perfection, and I am completely in love with Nuvem Cigana‘s “A força do vento,” “Uma canção,” “Viver viver,” and O vento não me levou.”
What do you know about Lô? I’d love to read more perspectives about him and his music. He releases recordings at roughly the same pace as Scott Walker. That alone is enough to intrigue me in an era of talking loud and saying nothing, but the tunes are terrific and his voice has a true sweetness to it.
Get ready, kids — this Saturday night’s all about the new-bass (and I go in deep on it in this week’s Super Ego clubs column). Do like I said and hit up both mindblowing parties featuring this amazing nightlife sound of now.
Ghislain Poirier, helloooo
In one corner is Montreal’s “King of Bounce” Ghislain Poirier, whose Bounce Le Gros monthly in the MTL not only helped launch the careers of such wiggy Canadian future bass purveyors as Megasoid and the tres-tres atmospheric Sixtoo, but also put Quebec on the world dance music map. Ghislain will storm the Tormenta Tropical monthly’s electro-cumbia castle at Elbo Room.
Below are two video examples of how Poirier wonderfully “plays it both ways” as it were — super-danceable and brainily abstract — with the dancehall boinger “Blazin'” and the headphone freaker “Hit & Red.” The third vid, “Don’t Smile, It’s Postmodern” is his awesome kinda middle ground (although the visuals are waaaay goofy.)
Ghislain Poirier, “Blazin'” featuring Face-T
Ghislain Poirier, “Hit & Red”
Ghislain Poirier, “Don’t Smile”
AND in this other corner, righteous kings of woofer-blowing abstractitude Flying Lotus, Kode9, and the Bug hit Mighty for a jam called “The Future.” I’ll let the videos after the jump give you an idea of each of their genius individual styles, but DO NOT MISS THIS PARTY.
ActressHazyville (Werk) Werk label head Daniel J. Cunningham charts a triangular electronic space beyond singular genres yet quite familiar. Dark loveliness gives way to boring repetition then returns, while focal points and sources remain just out of reach.
Anita Carter Songbird (Omni) This is singing. The daughter of Maybelle and sister of June (whose husband pitches in on one track) is faultless from the Joe Meek-like future scenario "2001" to the pop of "Hang a Little Sign" on through to the sublimely sad and gorgeous "Sweet Memories."
Various artistsThe Birth of Bossa(Él/Cherry Red) Weirdly, there are no Tom Jobim recordings here, but the influential "Chega da suade" gets two versions, including one by samba singer Elizeta Cardoso, whose down tempo emotionalism is showcased. Another odd gem from Él and Cherry Red.
Ella WashingtonHe Called Me Baby (Soulscape) A name that evokes two legendary divas couldn’t have helped this Florida woman carve out her own rep. A shame, because she can sing her ass off — tearing it up in the verse, building momentum in the bridge, and ripping the roof off in the chorus. One highlight: "Sit Down and Cry," which even Irma Thomas might envy.
WavvesWavves (Fat Possum) Wavves wishes they all could be California goths, on the beach, riding the surf, in the summer. The distortion is delicious, as are the guitar solos, the nyah-nyah lead vox and the falsetto harmonies that teeter between blissed out and freaked out.
Wicked WitchChaos, 1978-86 (Em) The Em label outdoes itself by uncovering this slab of kinky gothic urban funk by one enigmatic leather-and-spike-clad Richard Simms. The 12-minute "Vera’s Back" is a contender for jam of the year.
Gui Boratto‘s Chromophobia (Kompakt, 2007) was the sound of minimal techno going pop, its array of sonic colors gorgeous enough to cure the titular malady. With the new Take My Breath Away (Kompakt), Boratto ventures further into pop’s immediacy and epic aspects. Though the eco-pun cover image might be the worst art for any Kompakt release, I love more than enough of it, especially the portentously named "Opus 217" and his latest collaboration with wife Luciana Villanova, "No Turning Back." The Brazilian Boratto has SF ties, another reason why a visit by him should be a party to remember.
“Rising above the smoke and debris” – yes, we can. More to do, see, and hear…
Undebateable: Eef Barzelay’s “I Love the Unknown.”
Clem Snide Hungry Bird (429), the latest release by the Boston-born band, almost succeeded in killing Clem Snide. Yet Eef Barzelay carries forth – sweet Snide ‘tude in hand – alongside Brendan Fitzpatrick and Ben Martin. With the Heligoats and Pepi Ginsberg. Wed/8, 9 p.m., $10-$12. Bottom of the Hill, 1233 17th St., SF. (415) 621-4455.
Love X Nowhere
Immaculate shoegaze and anthemic pop stream from the SF fivesome’s new self-released High Score Blackout. With Headlights and the Love Language. Thurs/9, 9 p.m., $10. Bottom of the Hill, 1233 17th St., SF. (415) 621-4455.
Members of lo-fi favorites Bridez hang out in this “candid” pic.
We may pride ourselves on this city’s intellectual panache or European debonaire, but the real ego tripping starts with the thriving rock & roll pedigree ingrained in the underbelly of San Francisco that I suspect is the real reason the city’s 20-something set gets dressed in the morning.
This snarling, sweating rock & roll animal is the perfect companion to the stiff drinks and barroom sleaze that dominate our night lives, and bottle-feeding this beast is Bridez. Their lo-fi gospel is true blue, rough-hewn and rife with cool angst, fronted by a singer who could be the testtube lovechild of Karen O., Lou Reed and Courtney Love. Chanteuse Liza Thorn, formerly of So So Many White White Tigers, has impressively mastered a white-hot on-stage swagger most girls only have the courage to do in front of a bedroom mirror, and is quickly blooming into the blazing frontwoman San Francisco needs.
Who is the shy girl casting her eyes downward on the cover of Little Hells (Kemado)? Here in Hell, Marissa Nadler could be a damsel who has tumbled from a frayed tapestry in search of her unicorn, a crystal doll who has escaped from her vitrine, or a tubercular maid who has slipped out of her Victorian deathbed photograph to traipse this earthly plane. She’s the dark, downbeat cousin of the enormous-eyed cameo cutie gracing The Saga of Mayflower May (Eclipse, 2005), the sunlit warbler singing in the lawn at the first Arthur Fest, and the whimsical Rhode Island School of Design-educated artist I spoke to around the time of Songs III: Bird on the Water (Kemado, 2007).
With her fourth full-length, Nadler enters a new, more synthetic, and increasingly richer musical realm than that on her previous recordings — one outfitted with its own exquisite troubles and terrors. The almost imperceptibly swooping faux strings that strafe "Heart Paper Lover" sound like tiny planes dive-bombing a cruel sweetheart. The goth muses slumbering within Nadler’s out-folk also come to light, blinking: one imagines Mary Shelley waking to find herself in Frankenstein’s grave-dirt-encrusted shoes on the harpsichord-strewn, almost Sisters of Mercy-like "Mary Comes Alive." Still, Nadler’s voice has never sounded so fine — catching itself on miniscule beads of longing on "Rosary" and fading, delicately detuned, like a dying darling on "Ghosts and Lovers."
MARISSA NADLER With Eric Shea. Wed/8, 9:30 p.m., $10-$12. Cafe du Nord, 2170 Market, SF. (415) 861-5016, www.cafedunord.com
We guess it’s typical that Mirah Yom Tov Zeitlyn would write a batch of songs, group the songs into an album, and then name the album something pretty much incomprehensible. (a)spera (K), her first release in a near half-decade — wasn’t it just yesterday that Mirah arrived on the scene, a bright-eyed, scampering young up-and-comer? — is the Latin stand-in for hope or adversity, depending on how you interpret the handy parenthetical tacked onto the beginning of the word. With her restrained instrumentation, acoustic pop smarts, and whimsical inspirations, Mirah’s records are as oddly accessible as they are born of arcane esoterica: 19th-century French naturalist writings inspired her multimedia endeavor Share This Place: Stories and Observations (K, 2007), a concept album about the lives of insects.
Small town heroine or not, Mirah’s discreetly built something of a national following. Back before she’d even released an album, she used to play gigs with a full band at weddings and bar mitzvahs for extra monies, but that fledgling project fell to the wayside when she decided to do her own thing. That involved a bit of lo-fi futzing around, a couple of forays into riot grrrl bristling, and a lot of sparely beautiful acoustic sessions with just her guitar — Liz Phair knock-off dismissals be damned.
Mirah was MIA for the better part of the mid-2000s, in terms of solo recordings. She spent the time tinkering with an impressive number of side projects, including collaborations with the Microphones’ Phil Elverum and Black Cat Orchestra, plus the provision of an entire soundtrack for the documentary Young, Jewish, and Left. She also used to tour with the Microphones, but now she’s split off to do her own thing again. No insect noises this time, but the release of (a)spera lands her at Bimbo’s 365 tonight.
MIRAH
With Tender Forever and Leyna Noel
Tues/7, 8 p.m. (door: 7 p.m.), $16
Bimbo’s 365 Club
1025 Columbus, S.F.
(415) 474-0365
www.bimbos365club.com
One should be easily forgiven for thinking that Bosque Brown is the effort of one person, recorded under a group-name alias, a la Cat Power/Chan Marshall — vocalist/songwriter Mara Lee Miller is such a dynamic presence on its just-released disc Baby that it isn’t too tough to imagine everything coming from a single creative force. In reality, the Denton, Texas spinetinglers are a sextet, named for the Bosque River which runs through town; not sure about the “Brown” part, other than the color choice connotes an earthiness reflective of their rustic Americana bent. Miller’s haunting visions — funneled through an alluringly dusty twang and slow-drawled delivery — are singular enough to separate the band from the ever-swelling masses of No Depression devotees, but her partners’ careful construction of sighing backdrops and moody undercurrents not only testifies to their strength as an ensemble, but also adds more than a few exclamation points to their must-hear status.
There is something in the tense hushes and quiet understatement creaking away in the background which brings to mind a more melancholic Hem, or perhaps even a nervier Cowboy Junkies, circa The Trinity Session (1988, RCA). It also wouldn’t take too much of a leap in imagination to consider Baby a spiritual cousin to Cat Power’s immaculately restrained Moon Pix (1998, Matador). As you might have figured from the aforementioned reference points, there are shiver-inducing moments a-plenty here.
Call it no wave, noise, avant-skrock, or simply the harsh, grinding sound of the daughters of Mars and DNA writhing on their guitar necks and drum sticks beneath the light of a fiercely perturbed Venus. Though it might be less than visible on club bills of late, the underground of women testing the limits of dissonance never quite died, especially in the Bay where 16 Bitch Pileup, T.I.T.S., and Zeek Sheck have staked their ear-wrenching claim in a scene that can be as boy-heavy as any Mastodon show. Though the field has always been varied in its aural strategies, more contemplative, though no less challenging, music-makers like Grouper and Inca Ore – both with ties to these shores – have risen to the fore these days, thanks to last year’s Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill (Type) and Birthday of Bless You (Not Not Fun). Perhaps everyone – iconoclasts included – has toned themselves down for hard times, reserving judgement and preserving rage in anticipation of big-time change.
Brooklyn twosome drummer-vocalist Andrya Ambro and guitarist-vocalist Sarah Register, otherwise known as Talk Normal, do have their meditative moments, bent beneath Buddha Machine-y piano notes and sawed-at strings on the Secret Cog EP’s last track, “Rest With Me” until the drone dissolves into fragments of melody then miniature surges of glittered noise. But otherwise Ambro and Register embrace an aggro approach, issuing high-pitched squeals, horn peals, and lumbering counter rhythms on “Grinnin’ in Your Face,” which evoke not only Teenage Jesus and the Jerks but Pussy Galore and later NYC noise-mongers as well as Amphetamine Reptile rageaholics. Talk Normal, what’s normal?
I’ve just figured out what I’m doing on Thursday: going to see Battlehooch (what a great name) at Cafe du Nord. The musicians are friends of a friend, so I might’ve ended up there whether or not I’d done any research. But after listening to their strange, energetic prog rock on myspace – and then watching a vlog piece on what they’re about (the first one on their myspace page)- I’m officially hooked for my own reasons. Thing is, I can’t decide if I like them because these guys are music nerds, because they’re just plain nerds (bandmember non-musical interests include ideas, concepts, and topography), because their music is engaging and strange, or because they seem like so much fun I kinda just want to hang out near them. Either way, I’m betting this band will tickle some of my favorite places – cerebral and otherwise. I’ll have some of that hooch, thanks.
Habib Koite and his band Bamada filled Zellerbach Hall in Berkeley with a myriad of rythms and beats Friday, April 3. Habib started the show with a mellow set of almost lullaby-esqe pieces, using his luscious voice and beautiful guitar playing to entrance his audience.
