SFBG Blogs

High on High on Fire live

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Early High on Fire, mach I. Courtesy of MTV.com.

By Ben Richardson

There were a few chuckles from the audience when someone enjoined High on Fire to “play the heavy one,” and a few more when frontperson Matt Pike replied, “I will.”

Levity aside, the good-natured heckling suggested something more profound. During the band’s free set Tuesday evening at Amoeba, High on Fire became the Heavy One, writ large and inked in blood, and ran through a set of songs from their new CD that pummeled with abandon.

Pike’s fingers danced like dervishes across the extra-wide fret-board of his custom-made nine-string, and his face twisted into a devilish grin every time he pulled of something particularly awesome. The kings of conflagration inebriation played the new songs to perfection, doing full and fiery justice to Death Is This Communion riffmonsters like “Turk” and “Rumors of War.” The trio was rounded out by drummer Des Kensel and bassist Jeff Matz, the thunder to Pike’s lightning fingers, and a gruesome rhythm twosome in their own right. If the set had any weakness, it was that the frontperson’s voice sounded a little thin, but the ex-Sleep guitarist’s raspy, wounded bellow is appealing in its rawness, and he was hampered by an admittedly dinky PA.

After yesterday’s record release, High on Fire sets off on a national tour, returning to San Francisco for two culminating dates at the Independent, Oct. 28 and 29.

Broken democracy

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The implications behind today’s big news that San Francisco has an unreliable voting system are mind-boggling. It’s bad enough that it’s going to take weeks of hand-counting ballots before we’ll know the results — not just after this November’s snoozer election, but also after the high-stakes February and June contests. But consider the fact that the state has found that the San Francisco system doesn’t count many ballots. Has that affected past elections? Did Sup. Ed Jew really win his squeaker of an election, or for that matter, did Gavin Newsom really beat Matt Gonzalez four years ago?
As the Chron story notes, the Board of Supervisors earlier this year elected not to switch from our current ES&S system to one made by Sequoia Voting Systems, mostly because they would allow an independent review of the computer coding, which is a valid concern. People have good reasons, and more all the time, to have no faith in this country’s dysfunctional democracy. This is serious stuff, people. If we don’t find a way to restore people’s faith in the system, it isn’t just trust and hope that will be lost. It could be the system itself.

UPDATE: After learning a bit more about this issue, it turns out that the scope of the city’s problems in the past aren’t as potentially far-reaching as the Secretary of State’s action might indicate. Respected election reformer Steven Hill tells us this is a drastic action based largely on ES&S not being the most responsive corporation in the world, as he and the Guardian experienced during the implementation of ranked choice voting. But the potential for votes not being counted only concerns those cast at precincts by voters who don’t use the provided pens and instead use their own with light ink. On absentee ballots where that’s most likely to occur, they are already read on more sensitive machines that will count the votes. Anyway, look for next week’s Guardian where we’ll have more on this developing story.

McGoldrick recall fails

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The Elections Department has notified proponents of move to recall Sup. Jake McGoldrick that their effort has failed. The campaign — sparked by business interests who oppose the Geary bus rapid transit proposal and McGoldrick’s sponsorship of Healthy Saturdays — turned in 3,844 signatures on Sept. 14, according to Elections officials. But a random sampling of those signatures found that at least 500 weren’t valid signatures from voters in the district, leaving them short of the 3,573 they needed to qualify for the February ballot. Proponents were informed in a letter that went out yesterday.
McGoldrick had been preparing to fight to finish his term, which ends next year, assuming that the campaign would meet the low threshold of 10 percent of those in the district who voted in the last election. But now, that election won’t happen and the mayor won’t get to appoint a replacement if McGoldrick lost.

A totally bogus arrest

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Alex “Grasshopper” Kaplan was at our office today to talk about his campaign for mayor, but he almost didn’t make it; the guy, who has been in and out of jail for the past few weeks, got popped yesterday on what has to be one of the more utterly bogus charges in recent memory.

See, Kaplan is under a restraining order; he’s supposed to stay away from Sup. Ed Jew. That goes back to his stunt a few weeks back when he parked his cab in the driveway of Jew’s San Francisco house and asked if he could live there. Jew apparently thought Kaplan was a threat, and got the stay-away order.

The problem is that Kaplan loves to speak up at public comment during Board of Supervisors meetings. And just approaching the front of the room, where the microphone is, puts him within 50 feet of Jew. So when he went to speak up this week, he was hauled out in handcuffs.

I realize this isn’t the biggest issue in the world, but please: Can’t the Powers that Be find a away around this one? How about giving him a cordless mike in the back of the room? You can’t just shut up a member of the public and stop him from speaking at a public meeting because of a questionable restraining order.

Shootin’ it with LCD Soundsystem’s James Murphy

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Murph, murph, murph, murph, murph. Yeah, me and the infamously curmudgeonly James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem are tight li’ dat. No, actually I joke – we’ve only been in touch twice, including the time I corresponded with him on the Rapture in 2003, but I do confess, that the man is a bundle o’ fun – if you like your artist-producer-label-honcho types witty, down-to-earth, relatively unpretentious and workman, and nimble with the gray matter. For the first snatch of this interview, see Sonic Reducer; for the rest, keep on keepin’ on.

Bay Guardian: So what’s this about a Fabriclive mix CD with your drummer Pat?

James Murphy: Yeah, we’ve been DJing together in the last year and in New York together a bunch, but it’s really fun on tour when we have a night off or at an afterparty or something. I don’t do anything before my show – just sit back stage and wonder if I’m going to remember the lyrics.

BG: No group hugs or prayers?

JM: No, we don’t any of that stuff. I think the more befuddled and unprepared we are the better the show, often. It’s just such a weird situation that if you overthink it beforehand you’re just like, ah, “I’ll just check out…”

Is Ballard the new Byorn?

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Newsom press secretary Nathan Ballard — who got the job after his predecessor was caught lying to reporters — has always seemed to me a fairly robotic center-right spinmeister, delivering carefully scripted comments without much feeling or human warmth. Or maybe he just hates me and the Guardian, as I’ve heard from others at City Hall, which is why he’s generally fairly unresponsive to our requests and terse when he finally does answer. For example, I had to hound him for days, even after he’d missed the Sunshine Ordinance deadline for the resignation letters Newsom requested and blown off a 10 a.m. appointment with me, before I could finally see the documents and ask him a few questions about them in his office on Monday, which he answered while distractedly looking at his computer almost the entire time.
That was when I was able to finally corner him into admitting that Newsom didn’t seek legal advice before announcing his unorthodox and overreaching demand for everyone’s resignations, a scoop that the Fog City Journal followed up today with a story on whether Ballard had lied to them and other reporters. So today, I followed up with an e-mail to Ballard (CCed to FCJ, the Chron, and the Examiner, who have also sought a straight answer) asking a simple question: Precisely when did Newsom seek legal advice on his resignation request plan? His answer, delivered a couple hours later, follows:

MIA-Spike Jonze gossip and more Treasure Island views

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Work dat skirt: a stiltwalker at TIMF. All pics by Kimberly Chun.

Sighted backstage on Saturday, Sept. 15, at the Treasure Island music fest: Spike Jonze, supposedly dating MIA for a hott minute – though as I write they may be on the offs once again!

Whether or not you dug the lineup (or the wind chill or the femme-mullet count), you had to appreciate the views from the isle. Here are a few more pics from Sunday, Sept. 16:

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Treasure Island fest – another view

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Pulling it together: Doug Martsch of Built to Spill at Treasure Island fest. All pics by Kimberly Chun.

By Steven Touchton

This past Sunday was the first time anyone had ever rented out West Oakland’s DeFremery Pool in order to throw a late afternoon pool party featuring spazzy bands. Since it was a private rental, you could only attend by purchasing advance tickets from the Club Sandwich Bay Area Web site. It nearly sold out. The weather was perfect for the occasion.

My band KIT shared the bill with Los Angeles’s Captain Ahab and Foot Village, as well as local band Cell Block. Cell Block, which includes people from Ex Pets and Coughs, got things going with their brand of aggro-distorto noisy hardcore. People were already pumped just to be at an event like this, and Cell Block’s set just ramped up the excitement level that much more.

Foot Village are a vocals-and-percussion-only quartet who stole the show, in my opinion, with a sweat-drenched set of primal energy. Captain Ahab (winner of the Snakes on a Plane-song competition) closed it out, rave style. He brought along a fancy sound system and a dancer guy whose job is to “sexually harass” dudes in the crowd while singing along sans microphone. The dance-party covers included a Vocoder-soaked version of Avril Lavigne’s “Sk8ter Boy.”

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Earlimart wear their fall colors.

Most of those who attended left this party excited and energized, making plans for one of the post-show hangouts that ensued. But I had to load out my gear and take off right away, skipping the after-parties, in order to catch Built to Spill at the Treasure Island Music Festival.

More treasures from the Island

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By Molly Freedenberg

Still a little fuzzy on what the Treasure Island Music Festival was like? Think blue skies, a slight breeze, and the scenes yours truly captured below.

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Not even the brief power blackout could ruin Zion I’s upbeat, playful mood. When the sound and video stopped working, the freestylin’ MCs just worked harder to keep the crowd going.

Extra!! Two Ammianoliners today

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By Bruce B. Brugmann

The first Ammianoliner was as usual on his home voicemail:

And the Emmy goes to O.J. Simpson in “Prime Suspect.” Did you steal Carol Channing’s gown. If it fits, you can’t acquit.

Then, the Chronicle’s Leah Garchik writes in her Tuesday column:

Before the arrival of the news that Carol Channing’s stolen dress had been found, Tom Ammiano called to pin the blame on O.J. Simpson. “If the dress fit/then don’t acquit,” he said.

Take your pick.

Personal note to Ammiano: Speak up. It’s hard to get your one liners without redialing. We had to dial several times to get the joke and only got it in full in reading the word “acquit” in the Garchik item.

Personal note to Garchik: You don’t have to wait for Ammiano to call. But to get his Ammianoliner of the day you must call him on his private home phone number. B3

Tonight on KQED: “Lumo”

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A young woman struggles to heal from the aftereffects of a traumatic rape in Lumo, a moving documentary about a tragically common occurrence in the Congo, “where rape is used as a weapon of war.” In Lumo’s case, she develops a fistula (which makes her incontinent) and may never be able to achieve her dream of being a mother — plus, her family shuns her. Fortunately, she’s welcomed into a hospital for rape survivors, staffed by kindly doctors and counselors, and populated by other women who’ve been through similar traumas. There’s hope in recovery — but as the film points out, the horrors of violence against women in unstable nations is an ongoing, urgent problem.

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Lumo airs tonight as part of the P.O.V. series on KQED Channel 9 at 11 p.m. For more information about a local organization working to help women like the film’s subjects, visit the web site for the International Pediatric Outreach Project.

Newsom’s rash purge creates legal mess

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Newsom’s decision to ask for the resignations of hundreds of city employees and appointed commissioners was a impetuous one made with no legal advice, his press secretary has admitted to the Guardian. And now, the strange and sweeping gesture is raising troubling legal questions and potential long term problems for many city employees.
“The mayor did just make the decision more or less on the spot,” Newsom spokesperson Nathan Ballard told the Guardian yesterday, referring to the Sept. 7 meeting with a couple dozen senior staffers. “It was in the context of an inspirational speech to the staff.”
Ballard said the big moment caused the entire room to applaud, a response that was definitely muted by Sept. 10 when Newsom sent resignation-demand letters out and informed all department heads at a regular weekly meeting. Then came the confusion, the return of some letters that amount to an immediate resignation, and the close work with the City Attorneys Office (whose representatives say they can’t speak on the record about this attorney-client matter) to fix the mess.

The Dirty Projectors killed me with style at Bottom of the Hill

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By Ben Sinclair

At Bottom of the Hill last Wednesday, Sept. 12, a certain Brooklyn band, sounding a bit like an alchemy of Deerhoof and Prince, provoked what I would break down into three reactions: standing around and enjoying great music (the majority of the audience), sort of dancing (a minority), and lastly, small, isolated, and poor attempts at moshing.

Not that I don’t love the stuff when everyone wants to do it, but the latter tries at this show had to kindly be swatted down. The real success of this band was that they didn’t just provoke – they affected their fans diversely. On these grounds, how could I blame a lonely and intoxicated mosher? I resigned myself to jumping around and dancing inside my own head.

For a band that has been steered towards as many varying focuses as the Dirty Projectors, their name is strikingly apropos. Back when the David Longstreth-led group was showing off their looser, folkier side, the term “rough image” described their projection all too well. As Longstreth threw in classical compositional strategies for strings and voice, the only thing that became any clearer was that the dirt on this projector was not limited to its lens: the whole machine now felt and smelled like a digitized version of some shadowy attic antique, as if the influences of its primary function were sealed in the thin sedimentary layers of dust on its exterior.

Southern-fried freaknasty

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By Lotto Chancellor

What all can you do with a blues skeleton? For starters, get it high as hell and drown it in whiskey, beer, and more whiskey, then drop it in a vat of chitterling grease and give it a megaphone. That’s my conclusion after seeing New Orleans’ own Morning 40 Federation at the Boom Boom Room last Friday.

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Scully, Andrepont, Cohen and (just barely) Calandra

From the git-go, Morning 40 Federation made the most of that Boom Boomin’ system. Lead singer Josh Cohen came out of the gate slinging rhymes about 40-drinking, asking mid-flow, “Have you ever seen a white boy this drunk on the street?” Sure enough, this opening funk-hop number had all the white girls shaking their asses. Cohen smeared his manifold vocal interpretations like he was your pappy, offering up, at one point, one of the dirtiest cokesnorts I’ve ever heard. Whenever Cohen was otherwise occupied — blowing straightforward, thick, and heavy Baritone lines, or boozing — it was guitarist Ryan Scully who delighted to grab the vocal by the proverbial balls. The two wound up basically sharing the task of carrying the songs, whether in unison or by alternately crooning, screaming, and growling about flake, hookers, ex-bandmembers, and your mother. Scully found just the right amount of self-congratulation in an affected falsetto. Somehow, the rhythm section of Steve Calandra and Mike Andrepont kept things together; guitarist Bailey Smith awoke now and again from his stage-drunk state to wail on something. From all sides it was a skank-out, stank-out, relentless kind of rock and roll, full of winks and nods at blues music’s perfectly messy history.

So if you like ebb-and-flow mood arrangements, and perhaps some degree of emotional sensitivity in your music, don’t expect as much from this bunch of easy drunkards. But if you want some of that good olski from down the Bayou, the kind that thrums of Dumpsterjuice inspiration (Dumpsterjuice is, as Cohen explained, the stuff that oozes out of the trash compressors during post-Mardi Gras street-cleaning efforts), dig these guys.

Treasure Island was just right

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By Molly Freedenberg
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Imagine a concert held in your college quad, add a gorgeous view of the Bay, and you’ve got a pretty good idea of what the Treasure Island Music Festival was like this weekend. Organizers were smart enough not to be overly ambitious, either with the space or the lineup, so that the fledgling fest fit just right inside its britches: two stages appropriately far apart so you never felt crowded nor lonely, enough vendors and bathrooms so no line was ever very long, and just enough musical acts to fill two whole days without overlapping each other (which, by the way, is the Number One Best Thing about TIMF. And after five years of Coachella I’m-missing-something anxiety, I should know).

Highlights of Saturday’s hip-hop and electronica heavy lineup:
*Zion I’s high-energy freestyling, which continued through a brief blackout, and their DJ manipulating a Playstation controller like a turntable.
*The moments when Honeycut sounded like an American version of Kinky.
*Everything about Kid Beyond’s U2-meets-Nine Inch Nails beatboxing.
*The gold lame pants only M.I.A. could pull off.

It’s really too bad if you missed it, because this one was so successful, next year’s is bound to be a zoo.

Note: Stay tuned tomorrow for more photos and commentary.

Phil Frank & Throckmorton

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By Bruce B. Brugmann

Carl Nolte, who always likes to stay one step ahead of Guardian scandals, tossed a good one into the hopper
in our back and forth on the life and times of Chronicle cartoonist Phil Frank.

He emailed me that Phil was a “real historian” and that Samuel P. Throckmorton was his “PG&E.”

Who in the world is Samuel P. Throckmorton? As attentive Bruce blog readers know, I sent him back an email asking him to identify the peccadilloes and whereabouts of Throckmorton.

Nolte, startled, wrote “You never heard of Throckmorton? He was a speculator who challenged both Richardson and Pabo Briones land grants. According to Phil Frank, he flimflammed poor old William Richardson’s widow out of a lot of his land, then made a ton of money out of the town of Mill Valley.”

Nolte added that the late Hal Peary, who played the Great Gildersleeve on the radio of the l940s, grew up in Mill Valley and was familiar with the doings of Throckmorton the original. Peary played a pompous water commissioner, always in and out of jams, with the marvelous name of Throckmorton P. Gildersleeve. He had a hearty laugh I can remember 60 years later, a mischievous nephew named LeRoy, and friends like Peavey, the wimpy druggist. I loved the show and followed the adventures of the Great Gildersleeve every week. And I always wondered where the name and the character came from.

Nolte cleared up the mystery. He said Peary named his character Throckmorton P. Gildersleeve after Samuel P. Throckmorton of Mill Valley. The two, it turned out, were perfect cannon fodder for historian and cartoonist Phil Frank.

P.S. The memories are good, but they grow dimmer and dimmer, as Woody Allen said as he ended his movie on the good old days of radio. And so I could not remember the name of the undertaker friend of Gildersleeve, who always spoke in a remarkably cadaverous tone. That, Nolte said, was Digger O’Dell, “your friendly undertaker.” He would have said, had he seen you on tv, ‘you’re looking fine. Very natural.'” Nolte was referring to my brief cameo appearance on Channel 2 reporting on the memorial for Frank last week at John’s Grill. B3

Avatars smoking expensive cigars

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By Lotto Chancellor

My avatar has a 7.5 soft, looks like the late Vonnegut Jr., and speaks French. And he can make all my delusions of grandeur come virtually true.

For those who don’t know: an avatar is a simulated, pixilated, entirely customizable web identity rendered by the programmer gods in the image of man. Websites like SecondLife.com give users the chance to guide their avatars through virtual worlds in search of racy online chatting, or perhaps a pair of those brand name cybersneakers. As real-life simulators, virtual worlds exist as meticulously detailed, fully discoverable environments, and they feature all the benefits of user-to-user interaction. You control every move your avatar makes: setting up an intimate chat with the cute avatar over there in the assless chaps, for example, or taking a stroll across town to the virtual salon, saloon, or bird sanctuary. Yep, it’s just like the real world, but one step removed.fever4.jpg

Most controversial among virtual world sites right now is RedLightCenter.com, offering its users oodles of hedonistic cyber-experiences: puffing cheeba, fondling a paramour, or executing Cleveland Steamer…and now making money.

Phil Frank & PG&E scandals

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By Bruce B. Brugmann

Savannah Blackwell, our reporter who covered the PG&E/CityHall/Raker Act scandal from l996-2004, asked the SF Public Utilities Commission back in l997 for a map of the Hetch Hetchy water and power system.
She was thrilled (her words) to get a colorful, user-friendly, poster-sized cartoon version drawn by Phil Frank.

She took it back to the Guardian offices, then at 520 Hampshire Street, and taped it to the newsroom wall.
Executive Editor Tim Redmond pointed out to her where Frank had included–some ways downstream from the Hetch Hetchy dam–the home of former Rep. John Raker of Raker Act fame. This was a nod, Redmond explained, to the Guardian’s long standing campaign to make real the good congressman’s legislation (the famous Raker Act of l9l3) that mandated that the City of San Francisco use the public power generated by the dam to light the homes of its citizens and businesses.

“Phil understood the issue,” Redmond told her. Moreover, he added, “He’s a good guy–a real prince.” B3

Who will SEIU endorse for prez?

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Since this is one of the fastest-growing unions in one of the fastest-growing sectors of the workforce — and since it’s president, Andy Stern, is a leader in the rebel group that walked out of the AFL-CIO, this should be a fascinating choice.

Robert Haaland is there, live blogging it.

“Remarkable Men” at Jack Hanley

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Monkeying around: Djordje Ozbolt’s Little Ricky.

By Amy Glasenapp

Friday night, Sept. 7, and art was in the air. Among the early evening spatter of exhibitions in the Mission District was “Meetings with Remarkable Men,” a small but salient show of paintings by Serbian artist Djordje Ozbolt. This collection made me want to trash what was left of my tepid, paper-bag-wrapped Budweiser tallboy and get a real beer, something like a Unibroue ale or a nice Belgian Leffe.

The subjects of Ozbolt’s recent work are usually people and animals – mostly zebras, horses, and giraffes – placed in creepy fairy tale settings and depicted in vivid pastel colors. His paintings are playfully sinister, if not outright morbid, and are palpably influenced by storybook illustrations. Here, all the pieces are portraits (of remarkable men, as the title of the exhibition suggests, and Ozbolt displays a sense of humor about who is, in fact, remarkable: a few paintings border on hilarity, showcasing faces marred by gaping nose-pores, dirty-yellow buck teeth, and monkey features. These particular works are decadently surrealist, almost animated – you can easily imagine those figures chortling, rolling their eyes, or noshing on bananas.

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Coo-coo catchoo: The Turd Man.

Other pieces are more disturbing, such as the portrait of a face that looks more like the inside of a head. Or maybe a bowl of carefully arranged moose turds. (Later, I found the title online, **The Turd Man,** and was dismayed that my scatological interpretation wasn’t unique or far-reaching.) Ozbolt varies his style in each painting, revealing a familiarity with both classical and contemporary techniques, while every piece is intrinsically fueled by color.

“Meetings” reminded me that the portraits are still capable of provocation and engagement, especially when compared with other forms I glimpsed that night – conceptual, overcompensating work that, in a harried attempt to appear arcane, ended up ultimately banal.

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King him: His Imperial Majesty Haile Selassie I, Conquering Lion of the tribe of Judah, King of Kings of Ethiopia and Elect of God.

“Djordje Ozbolt: Meetings With Remarkable Men” runs through Sept. 29 at Jack Hanley Gallery, 395 Valencia St., SF. (415) 522-1623,

You! Me! Spazzing! Los Campesinos!

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By Todd Lavoie

Who could resist such an invitation? Why yes, I’m loosening my hips already, thank you very much. Chalk it up to the exclamation points, or perhaps it’s the sentiment – the foreign-exchange-student-at-the-school-dance come-hither underneath the mirrorball, charmingly clunky phrasing and all – but that debut single from Welsh ambassadors-of-exuberance Los Campesinos! has barnacled itself down deep into my shortlist of Best Song Titles of 2007. It’s just so damn…endearing.

Better still, these Gruff Rhys-endorsed young spazzers didn’t spend their entire cuteness budget on the title alone. Proving once and for all that a sprinkle or two or three of twee can turn a good song into a splendid one, the Cardiff band made quite the rainbow-flavored first introduction with its hand-clapping, xylophone-stippled tribute to social awkwardness. Sure, “You! Me! Dancing!” may begin with a decidedly dancefloor-befuddling 75 seconds of slow-building Velvets-y strum-and-surge, but patience pays off, my friends. Ride that crescendo out – and off you go into Gareth Campesinos!’s whirlwind of come-ons and sweet self-deprecations, whooshing around among the ring of guitars, playground-shout backing vocals, and, yes, a riff that will inspire legions of air-xylophonists far and wide.

Meet the candidates: Josh Wolf

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The Bay Guardian is interviewing the candidates for the 2007 elections. We’ll be updating this entry as more information comes in. Post your thoughts or comments below.

Mayoral candidate: Josh Wolf

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http://joshwolf.net/JoshWolf4Mayor

“Let’s make the police a part of the community, not an occupying force.”

Josh Wolf interview (play time – 48:15)


Josh Wolf news on SFBG.com

Visit the Guardian 2007 Election Center for updates, more interviews, and 2007 election news.

Meet the candidates: Lonnie Holmes

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The Bay Guardian is interviewing the candidates for the 2007 elections. We’ll be updating this entry as more information comes in. Post your thoughts or comments below.

Mayoral candidate: Lonnie Holmes

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http://campaignwindow.com/lonnieholmesforsfmayor/

Lonnie Holmes interview (play time – 46:25):

“The crime in this city is absolutely outrageous”




Visit the Guardian 2007 Election Center for updates, more interviews, and 2007 election news.

Meet the candidates: Quintin Mecke

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The Bay Guardian is interviewing the candidates for the 2007 elections. We’ll be updating this entry as more information comes in. Post your thoughts or comments below.

Quintin Mecke: Mayoral candidate

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http://qformayor.com/

Quintin Mecke interview (play time – 1:04:39)

“It’s hard to find an innovative, non-PR-type initiative coming out of the mayor’s office.”



Visit the Guardian 2007 Election Center for updates, more interviews, and 2007 election news.

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