Noise

Manic ’bout the Chromatics

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By Todd Lavoie

Disco is back! Quite the polarizing announcement, I know, so perhaps I should qualify: this isn’t some Yvonne Elliman/Studio 54 revival here. Sorry, but no “If I Can’t Have You”, no anatomy-defying Brothers Gibb falsettos, and definitely no dancefloor-anemia takes on Beethoven’s Fifth, mercifully enough. Rather, the ’70s flavors I’ve been picking up on as of late seem to skip right past club night in favor of the long, brisk walk home after closing time.

This new crop of disco-enthusiasts paints relatively few scenes of dancefloor hedonism and sweat-soaked glamorama, instead focusing on what happens when the hip young things are flat out of cab fare and decide to hoof it back home, trying their best to ignore the vague shuffling shadows in the dark and to avert the eyes of passing strangers. Their clothes are a sad shambles of how they looked only hours before, their makeup streaked and smudged. Danger lurks around every corner, and it’s palpable in every rudimentary rhythm, every Giorgio Moroder-/John Carpenter-informed minimalist synth ripple.

A spooky, lights-down-low vision of neo-disco burrowed its way under the skin of many when the fittingly titled After Dark compilation (Italians Do It Better) was released earlier this year. Artists such as Mirage, Farah, Glass Candy, and Chromatics unleashed throbbing, haunting, feathered-haired odes that seem to have more in common with Halloween than Thank God It’s Friday – sure, you can dance to ’em, but while you’re grooving be sure to keep looking over your shoulder.

Sonic Reducer Overage

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Jessie Evans

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Traditional Fools

Todd Snider

Punk as folk: Jeffrey Lewis

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Jeffrey, left, with his brother Jack.

By Alex Felsinger

Crass saved punk music. They redefined the genre before it was even fully created by shunning the Malcom McLaren-influenced and Vivien Westwood-designed pseudo-movement – and instead, they stood for something. They never fit the part, never ripped off the Rolling Stones, and never tried to become famous. They genuinely wanted a better world and thought they could help create one through music. Although a better world never came, they have influenced countless bands to continue in the same spirit.

But in the last four years, every kid with a mohawk and a leather jacket has picked up an acoustic guitar to sing against the war and capitalism, recorded some songs on their PowerBook, and then thrown them up on MySpace. Folk-punk, as people call it, has swept the nation’s underground, to the point where legendary punk venue 924 Gilman Street Project has a monthly “Acoustic Night.”

Bringing it full circle, New York City’s Jeffrey Lewis recently released an album – his fourth since 2001 – composed entirely of acoustic versions of Crass tunes. The full-length – 12 Crass Songs­ (Rough Trade) – covers some of the band’s best, including “Punk Is Dead,” “Banned from the Roxy,” and “Big A, Little A.”

Boxcar Saints

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By FS Slim

Songs of intrepidity and irresponsibility sound the same no matter the form. This is, in fact, the risk you take when you decide it’s time to pin your stories to the backs of artfully irresponsible, intrepid-type characters. Let your tale go the way of road grog and wanderlust, and sure enough, some loveless fleabag will appear out of the bushes behind your apartment, mixing for you a lurid cocktail of metaphor, boot savvy, and hemlock so to memorialize the way your music sounds: as slick, old, and dead as a beat.

Far be it from me, however, to ignore the fact that when a road-weary critic decides to write up a band – namely Boxcar Saints who performed on Jan. 8 at Bottom of the Hill – for its use of American cliché becomes not only a trader in kind but also an enormous killjoy.

But I’m tired too – tired of hitchhiking back and forth from Santa Cruz to the Upper Haight, listening to the same tired tunes on a white plastic juke half stuffed into a green bandana: little white lies connecting me to the end of my REI walking stick. I should be setting my snares for fuzzy animal things or finding Motel Burningman at the Holiday Inn in Burlingame. I tire at my use of irony, your use of irony, and all the meta-irony that our collected ironies generate when their avatars meet on the great desert train car of virtual-virtual experience.

So, leaving irony’s bequest behind us, at last, we get to some honest talk from the hobo’s mouth about the Boxcar Saints: these guys suck at least as much as this review. Without mentioning certain pretensions en vogue (like the giving of separate names to your side projects, who open for you and your other sideprojects, when your side projects are really just different instrumental configurations of your band’s original membership), the stuff does seem self-fulfilled, which is a nice way of saying the bass lines show no room for growth, the lead guitar is in most ways predictable, the writing has all been heard, seen, and done before. Call me another panning San Franciscan, it’s OK, but hey how ‘bout that ride to that party in the South Bay?

Cake’s John McCrea cuts up

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Oh, have more Cake, please! On the occasion of the Sacto-Bay Area band’s New Year’s Eve show Monday at the Warfield, I spoke to frontman John McCrea from his Oakland home – an intriguing and educational experience, natch. McCrea wandered down some unique avenues regarding his neighborhood, the music industry, farming, gorging, general loudness and so much more.

SFBG: I always associate Cake with Sacramento. I didn’t know you lived in the East Bay.

John McCrea: I was actually born in the East Bay – born and raised in Berkeley. I was living in Sacramento when the band started. Increasingly this is a bad place to start a band – unless you wanna have the sort of time-consuming day job that sucks your energy and leaves you with nothing by the end of the day.

[Before Cake began] I lived in other places with higher rent and I decided to come back. My family was living in Sacramento at that point, and I got a great big apartment for $350 a month and was able to play music on three or four days of work a week. Then I had the rest of the week to write songs and spend on the band. I think that’s sort of…necessary.

Sonic Reducer Overage: Saigon, Hiss Golden Messenger, Chris Brown

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All the shows that didn’t make print – but should have!

SAIGON
The Brooklyn rapper makes his SF debut, after doing seven hard years behind bars. Apparently he had a lot of hours to hone his rhyming skills, and after founding a nonprofit to help inner-city kids whose parents are incarcerated, he hooked up by chance with Mark Ronson (Amy Winehouse), who gave him a hand with production. After garnering some notoriety with his mix tapes, collaborations with Jay-Z, and appearances on Entourage, Saigon hopes to hit it big with his debut, The Greatest Story Every Told (Fort Knocks), which he unveils tonight. With DJ Big Von. Fri/28, 9 p.m., $15. Mezzanine, 444 Jessie, SF. (415) 820-9669.

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HISS GOLDEN MESSENGER
How to describe Hiss Golden Messenger? They’re a little classic rock, a wee bit free-form jazz, a tad dissonant, a teensy droning, with a dab of flute-folk, a dash of freak jazz. Oh, heck, just see ’em for yourself! MC Taylor, late of Court and Spark, is back in town from his studies in the south, and any number of bandmates – including Scott Hirsch, John Hofer, Patrick Main, Ryan Bishop, Greg Wiz, Pink Nasty, Chris Sipe, Matt Cunitz, Megumi Stohs, Tom Griesser, and Tim Bluhm will materialize. Then all will be golden, for sure. Also check opener Banana, once of the Youngbloods. With Parson Red Heads and Michael Talbott. Sat/29, 9:30 p.m., $8. Hemlock Tavern, 1131 Polk, SF. (415) 923-0923.


CHRIS BROWN
The Grammy crowd was impressed with the heartthrob’s spry moves. Dude be limber – and there’s no denying the smorgasbord of chart sensations assembled for this tour. With Bow Wow, Soulja Boy, Sean Kingston, Shop Boyz, and Lil Mama. Sat/29, 7:30 p.m., $40-$80. Oracle Arena, 7000 Coliseum Way, Oakl. (510) 569-2121.

Woo! Wu-Tang Clan sized up

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Wu-Tang Clan’s Method Man mounted a stack of speakers. All photos by Ben Hopfer.

By Ben Hopfer

What do you do when the cold weather kicks in and all your friends are out of town? If you’re like me you go see the Wu-Tang Clan. Braving the cold and rain, I arrived at Ruby Skye on Dec. 27 to check out the Wu, out on their “8 Diagrams” tour. I find it kind of funny that they named the tour after their latest album, one that multiple members have publicly stated that they are unhappy with. Yet my curiosity drew me in to see the group for the umpteenth time.

The opening act, a local artist Benflows, got off to a slow start. While it wasn’t a terrible performance, he should have known that openers shouldn’t try to pull a call-and-response session with a crowd that wasn’t warmed up at all. He called, but no one responded. Bay Area crew Rec League was up next. Now I may come off as a hater, but member Richie Cunning is far and above the best member of the group. While the rest went through the rap-show paces, Cunning actually put on a respectable performance and stood out individually due to his efforts. If only it was a solo act. The Bayonics closed out the opening set and brought live hip-hop to the stage the way it’s supposed to be done.

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The uncanny Richie Cunning of Rec League.

Does Flight of the Conchords soar or suck?

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By Mike McGuirk

First exposure to Flight of the Conchords – a YouTube clip of “The Most Beautiful Girl in the Room” – kind of bugged me. I was not in the mood for another comedy rock group, especially one that sings in fake black voices. Plus as far as I knew, it was tied to some super-hip new TV show. Finally I hated the name of the group.

But after a little more exposure and some time spent listening to The Distant Future (Sub Pop), I was forced to admit these guys, Jemaine Clement and Bret McKenzie (of some New Zealand indie rock band fame) are really funny. In “Business Time,” Clement explains why “tonight’s the night” he and his girlfriend are going to have sex, and it’s because it’s Wednesday night, and Wednesday is the night they typically have sex. See? Funny. No, do you really need me to explain it?

From what I can tell is these guys are international sensations. That is annoying, but at least they are funny. The best things on Distant Future are the three studio cuts that open things up. The three cuts that close things out are live, and maybe I still have some issues with this band, as in I don’t really care for live comedy rock, whether I am present in the room or not. Clement’s “slutangel22@yahoo” line in “Most Beautiful Girl in the Room,” however, makes up for a lot.

Oh no, you’re not: Reimagining the “I’m Not There” soundtrack

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By Marcus Crowder

Ever since listening to that multi-song pileup of a soundtrack for I’m Not There, I’ve been plotting my own alternate album: a compilation, to paraphrase Barry (Jack Black) in **High Fidelity** that does not “suck ass.” To begin with, the pathetic hipster pandering is gone. No Stephen Malkmus, Sonic Youth, Yo La Tengo, or Mason Jennings. Jack Johnson? Are you fucking kidding me?

Here’s the replacement – a **I’m Not There** soundtrack that should have been: Tunde Adebimpe and TV on the Radio doing “All Along the Watchtower,” Ivy on “I Wanna Be Your Lover,” Dean and Britta doing “I’m Not There,” Kurt Wagner and Lambchop on “Can’t Leave Her Behind,” Mark Eitzel and American Music Club doing “Fourth Time Around,” Greg Dulli on “Ballad of a Thin Man,” Peter Case doing “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carrol,” Andy Bey on “The Times They Are A-Changin’,” Mark Kozolek doing “Mama You’ve Been on My Mind/A Fraction of Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie,” and Paul Westerberg on “Maggie’s Farm.” I can live with the rest, even freaking Bob Forrest doing “Moonshiner.”

Sonic Reducer Overage: Have a very Gnostic Christmas and a Blackalicious dish

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Joseph Childress, child.

More trouble to get into – the best kind – when you’re not hunting and gathering last-minute offerings to your own personal Jesus.

GNOSTIC CHRIST-MASS REVUE
Join the soft psych-sters, delicate songwriters, acoustic hymn singers, and Leonard Cohen and Joni Mitchell cover mavens for a very Gnostic holiday hoot. Wymond and his Spirit Children, Conspiracy of Beards/Venus, Family Trea, and Joseph Childress get into the mystic – and the merriment. Fri/21, 7 p.m., $6-$10 sliding scale. Noe Valley Ministry, 1021 Sanchez, SF.

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It’s not academic for Trackademicks.

TRACKADEMICKS AND THE HONOR ROLL
The Alameda mix maestro gets out from behind the studio board to support Blackalicious and Mighty Underdogs. Sat/22, 9 p.m., $25. Fillmore,
1805 Geary, SF.

Player’s club: Todd Lavoie’s best of 2007 playlist

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Bat for Lashes are in your corner.

By Todd Lavoie

Well, it wasn’t easy, but after endless hours of fretting and ruminating and studied, stressed-out headphonery, I have at last been able to compile a play list of the tracks that got me most excited this year. What can I say? This year was a stunner – look no further than these twenty lil’ ditties, kiddies.

1. SOULSAVERS: “Revival” (Red Ink/Columbia)
Mark Lanegan + gospel singers + narcotized electronics = unmitigated bliss. The former Screaming Tree, Isobel Campbell collaborator, and bedrock-baritoned emissary from the darkest of gutters has teamed up with British downtempo dramatists Soulsavers for some post-apocalyptic spirituality and brokenhearted confessionals. And if that ain’t enough, they snagged Wendy Rose and Lena Palmer – probably best known for setting full-throated fires behind Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds on their last album and tour – to usher in the rapture with their serious gospel know-how. Ah, “Revival” – Lanegan leads the congregation in a river baptismal, spitting hellfire and salvation while still teetering close to the edge of the abyss himself, a Flannery O’Connor character brought to song. Until Spiritualized’s new one hits next year, this might be the next-best-thing to fill our medicated-soul prescription.

2. BAT FOR LASHES: “What’s A Girl To Do?” (Echo/Caroline)
Rolling out of the darkness on her forlorn little bicycle, transmitting mesmerizing sparkles from her glittery sweater, Natasha Khan – the mastermind behind the curious Bat for Lashes moniker – made quite a first impression with the opening seconds of her video for “What’s A Girl to Do?” – an ice-choked exploration of the previously undiscovered intersections between PJ Harvey, Broadcast, and the Ronettes. I won’t spoil the surprise twist of the video, but I will offer that this might be the catchiest bummer I’ve heard all year: “And when he asked me/ ‘Do you love me?’/ I had to look away/ I didn’t want to tell him/That my heart grows colder with each day.” Ouch.

3. BEIRUT: “Nantes” (Ba Da Bing)
European romance? Yes, please! Scott Walker might have long since abandoned any consideration for evening promenades and moonlit kisses in song – now that he’s a bonafide avant-garde artiste hellbent on making Stockhausen seem like sissy stuff, that is – so thankfully the world has Zach Condon, a.k.a., Beirut, to carry the torch for all of us swooning pie-eyed dreamers. Oh, the rhumba rhythm! The Montmartre-ific accordion! The swaying brass section! And atop it all, Condon waxes far more nostalgic than his 21 years should ever allow. Not as lurid as Walker or his idol Jacques Brel – honestly, who is? – but croonably smooth nonetheless. Me, I’m enchanted.

Indie rock too white? The debate continues…

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Are the Decemberists too pasty to dance to?

By Lauren Giniger

New Yorker pop music critic Sasha Frere-Jones recently provoked an online brawl when he accused indie-rock of being, well, too white. I know, duh.

His complaint, laid out in an essay published in the Oct. 22 issue of The New Yorker: the new indie, as typified by the holy-white-trinity of Arcade Fire, the Shins, and the Decemberists, can’t get a groove on to save its life. Underlying his distaste for modern indie is his sense of loss. According to Frere-Jones, the music had retreated from the heady, early ’80s days of cross-pollinating New York rock, the days of punky funk and rap-disco hybrids, the days of Factory Records’ infatuation with NYC clubs.

He also argues – although, he admits, reductively – that as indie rock has retreated from black music, so has society become increasingly racially polarized. There’s no doubt about the latter. But there may be a flip-side to what he perceives as racist retreat from black music.

SF’s Little Fuzzy goes bye-bye – in an explosion of holiday cheer

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Not the Little Fuzzy’s Dec. 12 farewell show, but the same costumes.

By Chris DeMento

Seeing a band for the first time can be a treat; seeing a band for the first time on the night of its final performance can be a cathartic, dare I say, religious sort of romp: all the byzantine emotional complexity, malodorous subtext, the washed-over memories of the road and her shitty vomitoria, so many tensions and recollections spilling forth ecstatically. However, seeing a band composed of a Santa Claus drummer and three dancing Christmas trees is, under any circumstance, a revelation.

I don’t know how Little Fuzzy didn’t pass out inside their all-lit-up tannenbaums at their farewell performance at the Make-Out Room on Dec. 12. Experience, probably. They’ve done this same show before, maybe five or six years running.

But enough about the spectacle, on to the songs, which rocked in a very poppy, dancey, groovy way. Not only was I impressed with the way many of the indie numbers developed into stuffed-animal funkballads, but I was struck by the tightness and quality of the playing. Fans of the now-disbanded Little Fuzzy will sorely miss its collective musicianship, which carried quite effortlessly the burden of guitarist-lead vocalist Kirk Markopoulos’s arrangements.

Benjamin Tinker’s top 10 musical experiences and releases

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‘Fro sure: Richard Pinhas Trio.

The Society of Rockets member ushers in his favorites for 2007.

1) Hanging out on Jean Herve Peron’s farm in Schiphorst, Germany, at his annual Avant-garde Festival, and hearing sounds differently afterward.

2) Being part of something that led to a 12-inch vinyl gatefold, the Society of Rockets’ Our Paths Related (Underpop)

3) Reissues, good for oldsters and kids alike: from Bee Gees: The Studio Albums 1967-1968 (Rhino) to Cluster’s Sowiesoso (Water).

4) Two nights of the Richard Pinhas Trio live.

5) Ornette Coleman with his son on drums and three bassists at the Masonic Center, Oct. 28. Not the soaring, almost liturgical music of 2005’s SFJAZZ performance, but a blistering of angry, almost punk evaluation on the state of the union.

Pat Thomas’s top 10 albums of 2007

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Pat Thomas, Runt/Water consultant, writer/editor of Ptolemaic Terrascope, and the drummer of Mushroom offers his picks for ’07.

1) Miles Davis, The Complete On the Corner Sessions (Sony Legacy)

2) Moby Grape, Moby Grape ’69 (Sundazed)

3) Sly Stone, There’s a Riot Goin’ On (Sony)

4) Sean Smith, Sacred Crag Dancer Corpse Whisperer (Isota)

5) Terry Manning, Home Sweet Home (Sunbeam)

Vice Cooler’s other fave shows of ’07

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Vice Cooler of XBXRX, KIT, and Hawnay Troof comes with his other favorite gigs of 2007. For the rest, go to his list here.

– While I was performing in France an orgy broke out (which I did not partake in).

– I played on three boats.

– KIT had a great tour with Deerhoof in the United Kingdom. While in Wales we got to hear an enormous drunken man who resembles a tree trunk take a horrible jab at singing along with Satomi Matsuzaki. Afterward a kid came up and said it was the most inspiring show he had seen. I asked why, and he answered, “Well, I’m a drummer. Seeing you and Greg [Saunier] play was great because you guys are always missing the drums and hitting the rims and stuff. That’s cool!”

Josh Wilson’s musical bests for 2007

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Perfect? Circle.

Newsdesk.org editor and music critic Josh Wilson weighs in with his best in music for the year:

– Hammers of Misfortune at the Great American Music Hall, Feb. 22. Glorious thunder and truth.

– Circle at Bottom of the Hill, Sept. 27. If Can were a dadaist metal band from Finland.

– Faun Fables with Daevid Allen and Josh Pollock at Cafe du Nord, Nov. 28. Mad Canterbury beatnik styles, eruptive guitar on a tight leash, plus a truly riveting vocal and kinetic display by Faun Fables.

Johnny Ray Huston’s Reissue Faves of 2007

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Because I enjoyed reissues this year as much as I did “new” music, and because end-of-the-year lists with pictures are more fun, below find my annotated and illustrated cheater’s dozen, alphabetically organized.

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Dorothy Ashby, The Rubaiyat of Dorothy Ashby (Dusty Grooves)
Detroit harp genius Dorothy Ashby was plucking those strings in genre-spanning ways long before neo-folk sprites were born. Ashby’s other albums are equally worth seeking out for her jazz explorations and for her lounge takes on the likes of “(Theme From) Valley of the Dolls.” Here, she takes the listener on a journey, and reveals that she has a sonorous mezzo voice that’s as impressive as her instrumental abilities.

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Vashti Bunyan, Some Things Just Stick in Your Mind (DiCristina/Spinney)
A smart-asser-than-thou magazine recently dissed this record because Devendra Banhart likes Vashti Bunyan. It’s tough to convey the pure stupidity behind that pose — um, Bunyan wrote and recorded these songs before Banhart was even born. If you have even a passing affection for the many charms of British ’60s girl pop, you have to get this, because Bunyan’s non-Diamond Day efforts are pop tunes, and ones I prefer to Marianne Faithfull’s from the era. The vocal performance on “Train Song” is a thing of wonder — voice as pure instrument.

RZA: better to give…

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By Chris DeMento

Tuesday night, Dec. 11, and I was feeling really zoned in: got the good word that the RZA and his stagemate Monk were just getting to town after a long drive up the coast, and that meant I didn’t need to stress about getting
down there all that early. I happened to be on their clock.

The openers – Audible Mainframe, Mr. Sayre, and Benflowz – held it down as a packed-full Independent waited for its headliner. Didn’t seem like all that much time to me, although more than one audience member expressed disrelish while waiting for a such a “prima donna.” Feeling really zoned in, completely ignorant of time, I reminded more than one audience member it was the RZA about to come on, be patient, dudes. Have youse a Heinekin.

Whatever route the RZA and Monk took from LA to SF had inspired them. First thing they did was soak the crowd in bubbly. Later they fed it Black Label and Grey Goose. Having officially dropped the Wu’s brand-new album that very same day, 8 Diagrams, Bobby Digital was in quite good spirits, lolling around the stage with a smile, stumbling upon a set of hand drums to beat on, feeling zoned in: “I’m feeling really zoned in,” he said.

Feu Therese on fire?

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By Todd Lavoie

It’s gonna hit! So says Montreal’s slinky experimentalists Feu Therese on the front of their new album, Ca Va Cogner (Constellation) – if my ever-rusting grasp of the French language serves me well. (Oh, my ancestors would be so proud.)

Now, I’m not sure if the “it” posed by the title is a sweaty funk-bomb or a seedy stab of gutter-synth – could be either, judging from the ample amounts of each being offered on its 37 fascinating minutes – but I reckon the not-knowing’s the whole idea: this Quebecois quartet seems to thrive on delivering the unexpected. Like a bucketload of bricks – that’s how it’s gonna hit, pumpkin, so duck and cover and let that heavy shit fall where it may. Me, I was blindsided. And it felt fantastic.

Fess-up time: I’m no expert on all of the intricate details of the willfully iconoclastic Constellation Records universe. (Yeah, a pun, I know.) I’ve adored the cinematic sturm-und-drang naysayers Godspeed You! Black Emperor from the get-go, and I’ve always enjoyed the elusive textures and chilling silences of Do Make Say Think, but there’s a hell of a lot of other stuff on that label I still have yet to hear. Fact is, I probably would’ve missed out on Feu Therese, too, if I hadn’t heard the last couple of tracks from Ca Va Conger playing in a record store recently. My point? Up until then, I’d always somehow expected the entire Constellations roster to be a pretty serious lot, all agitprop and clenched jaws – not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course, when it’s done eloquently and thoughtfully, which Godspeed et al. have managed all along. So, I was more than a bit bowled over by Feu Therese’s playfulness. There’s an anything-goes spirit at work here which leaves me with a satisfied smirk every time. Picture this: Serge Gainsbourg has hooked up with Talking Heads and Brian Eno – y’know, back during their fertile Fear of Music/ Remain in Light (Sire) collaborative heyday – to pay homage to Kraftwerk and Can and early-’70s Italian thriller soundtracks. What could be better, really?

Teens girls lusting after Tom Waits

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Buddyhead interviewed Tom Waits recently, and while overall, the interview is a piece of shit, we just loved Tom’s response to the following:

So what do you think of Scarlet Johanson doing an entire album consisting of covers of your songs?
Well some songs are meant to be recorded by other people. Those are the seeds in the tomato, you know? You expect that someone will hear it and might wanna interpret it themselves. So we’ll see.

Yea, hey, you might have a whole new audience of 14-year olds!
Oh yea, the teeny boppers, it’ll be like The Beatles concerts, girls crying, holding pictures of me and coming apart emotionally behind police barricades.

“Coming apart emotionally behind police barricades.” The smallest turns of phrase separate the songwriters from the douchebags.

Image credit: Myfilmo.com from “Down by Law.”

Surrender Dorothy — symphonized

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Imagine our grandfatherly gay delight at the megaspectacle promised by the approaching SF Symphony’s holiday show: a big screen showing of The Wizard of Oz accompanied by a live symphony orchestra! Imagine!

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Let’s hope the piccolos don’t drown out those flying monkeys …

This event is looking to be super-popular, so get your tix now! Oh! And come dressed as your favorite character — there’ll be a contest in the lobby!

The Wizard of Oz with the San Francisco Symphony

Thursday, December 20 at 7:00 p.m.
Friday, December 21 at 7:00 p.m.
Saturday, December 22 at 2:00 p.m.
Children welcome and encouraged!
(Pint-sized ruby slippers not supplied)
www.sfsymphony.org

Marke B’s Top 10 2007

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Ah, yes – it’s that time of year again, and why not? There was a whole lotta sonics to love this past year in music, and below is my enhanced top 10 guiltless pleasures of 2007 list. I hope you disagree with and enjoy!

1. Jill Scott, “Hate On Me”

2. Cool Kids, “Black Mags”

3. Honey Soundsystem DJs

Get off the Camel: Kill Rock Stars’s open letter to ‘Rolling Stone’

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We, the indie: Maggie Vail (left) of the Bangs fired off this open letter to Rolling Stone.

This came over the e-mail transom today from Maggie Vail, publicist at Kill Rock Stars (and also of the Bangs) with the subject line: “an open letter to rolling stone.”

“We, the undersigned independent record labels, wish to share our indignation regarding Rolling Stone’s November 15th pull out editorial, which featured the names of our artists in conjunction with an ad for Camel cigarettes. This editorial cartoon gives every impression of being part and parcel of the advertisement wrapped around it. The use of an artist’s name to promote a brand or product should be done only with the artist’s explicit consent, something that was neither solicited nor obtained from the labels or bands.

“When questioned, Rolling Stone has referred to the ‘Indie Rock Universe’ pull out section as an ‘editorial,’ but it hardly seems accidental that this editorial content is wrapped in a giant ad from R.J. Reynolds announcing their support for independent artists and labels. The idea that this was a coincidence in any way seems dubious at best. There are two other pull out sections in this same issue of Rolling Stone. Both are wrapped in advertising, but neither of these ads could be construed as part of the editorial content within.

“Many of the bands named, and the labels that represent them, are very unhappy with the implication that they have any involvement with R.J. Reynolds and Camel cigarettes. We ask that Rolling Stone apologize for blurring the line between editorial and advertisement, and in doing so, implying that the bands named support the product being advertised.

“Sincerely, Kill Rock Stars, Touch and Go, Skin Graft, Lovepump United, Lucky Madison, 5RC, Audio Dregs, and Fryk Beat.”

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