Great American Music Hall

Cock Sparrer is mates first

Andrew Lam
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Cock Sparrer is mates first

arts@sfbg.com

MUSIC While it may not be a household name in the mainstream music world, Cock Sparrer has been one of the most beloved and influential bands in punk rock for four decades and counting.

Hailing from the East End of London, childhood friends Colin McFaull, Mick Beaufoy, Steve Burgess and Steve Bruce — who all remain members of the group today, along with Daryl Smith, who joined in 1992 — formed the band in 1972.

I first encountered Cock Sparrer blasting out of a stereo at a friend’s house in high school during the mid-1990s, and became an immediate fan of its powerful, sing-along anthems propelled by simple, yet infectiously catchy and memorable melodies and hooks. This is all with lyrics that — while written about growing up working class in England — anybody who grew up in a similar environment could relate to regardless of geography.

A few years after I was bitten by the Sparrer bug, it was announced that the band would be coming to the United States to play a few shows, something it had never done before. One of those gigs in 2000 was at the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco, so I made the trek up the coast from Santa Cruz with a big group of friends, and we were not disappointed — it was an amazing experience, a huge sing-along that felt more like a giant party than paid concert.

Two return shows in 2009 in the city delivered the same adrenaline and endorphin rush, as did the one I flew to Las Vegas for last year. Local fans can rejoice again, as Cock Sparrer will be gracing us with its presence at two special 40th anniversary shows at the Warfield, co-headlining with Rancid, which will be marking its 20th year.

“We wanted to celebrate our 40th birthday with some special shows and when the opportunity came up to return to San Francisco, we jumped at the chance,” singer Colin McFaull told me from his home in England. “The city holds a special place in the history of Cock Sparrer and we love playing there.”

McFaull points to the fact that band was born out of a group of friends, and that they all remain close, as one of the main reasons that Cock Sparrer has managed to survive for so long, and outlast many of its punk contemporaries.

“We’ve always maintained that we are mates first and band second. We tend to do things at our pace and on our terms. Someone once described us as ‘the biggest little band you’ve never heard of’ and we like that.”

Forty years ago, when the group first got together, this frame of mind was in place — it informed the naming of the band. “We wanted to have a name that was synonymous with where we came from — it’s just an old East London term of affection and means ‘friend.'”

Despite the fact that Cock Sparrer has influenced generations of streetpunk and Oi bands, and the group plays to sold-out crowds when it does venture out to perform live, all the band members still have regular jobs back at home in England — which McFaull says he is perfectly fine with.

“It would be possible to earn more from the band but that’s not really what we’re about — we’ve never taken ourselves too seriously, there are no egos in Cock Sparrer, we wouldn’t allow it. We don’t believe in putting on rock star airs and graces.”

“We’re the sort of band that you’ll find in the bar of the venues we play chatting to fans and on the odd occasion even buying the beers.” 

COCK SPARRER

With Rancid and Factory Minds

March 23-24, 8 p.m., $30 (March 23 sold out)

Warfield

982 Market, SF

www.thewarfieldtheatre.com

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

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

TUESDAY: The Flaming Lips at Bimbo’s

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Our Weekly Picks: February 29-March 6

Andrew Lam
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WEDNESDAY 29

Jacques Lu Cont

Stuart Price is a mixmaster of mystery. The British producer-DJ goes by many aliases, including Paper Faces, Thin White Duke, Jacques Lu Cont, and Les Rythmes Digitales. How could a Brit use French pseudonyms? Well, after you’ve won three Grammy Awards and worked with an entire spectrum of musicians ranging from Madonna to Miike Snow, from the Killers to Kylie Minogue, from Seal to the Scissor Sisters, then you’re off the hook for that faux pas. Price, the son of two classically trained pianists, developed his version of French electro house after hearing the sounds of the Human League. Expect Price and his trusty synthesizers to give guilty-pleasure makeovers to familiar songs and vocals (Kevin Lee).

With Robb Green

10 p.m., $5

Vessel

85 Campton, SF

(415) 433-8585

www.vesselsf.com

 

Nellie McKay in “I Want To Live!”

From the get-go, Nellie McKay has bucked against the typical musical confines: releasing her first album in 2004 as a double CD when it might have fit in one, calling it Get Away From Me in a jab at Norah Jones and to avoid being lumped in as just another female jazz singer. One listen to her actual music then and since, a maddening blend of pop, calypso, hip-hop, rock, reggae and (yes) vocal jazz, with maddening humor and reassuring warmth, assured that one label would simply never work. “I Want To Live!” showcases all McKay’s uncaged skill as performer as she reinvents the story of San Quentin death row inmate Barbara Graham as noir cabaret. (Ryan Prendiville)

8 p.m., $30

Rrazz Room

222 Mason, SF

(415) 394-1189

www.therrazzroom.com


THURSDAY 1

It Came From Hangar 18 book party

Two men, one brand-new sci-fi epic: It Came From Hangar 18 touches down from Planet Pulp this week at the Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge, which is actually one of the book’s settings, and serves a mighty tasty array of exotic cocktails to boot. Written by noted B-movie film programmer and author Will Viharo (A Mermaid Drowns in the Midnight Lounge) and software-engineer-with-a-dark-side Scott Fulks, Hangar 18 is self-described as “the most action-packed, erotic science fiction epic since the Bible — but with even more sex and violence!” Also: vampires, mobsters, and (I’m guessing) umbrella drinks galore. The release party features live surf music by retro-futurists Tomorrowmen. Whatever you do, keep watching the skies! (Cheryl Eddy)

7 p.m., free

Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge

1304 Lincoln, Alameda

(510) 749-0332

www.forbiddenislandalameda.com

 

RED BULL Thre3STYLE DJ COMPETITION

Every year, Red Bull pops in to provide a swell showcase of our current nightlife scene, inviting a variety of local disc jocks to compete for the chance to advance to national and international levels — and possibly win an enormous golden calf that squirts endless supplies of energy drink from its nipples. KIDDING. I’m sure they win something, but the real reward is ours, watching fine hometown talent display some flexibility on the decks. (The “Thre3style” part means competitors must include three different genres of music in their 15-minute sets.) This year’s amped qualifiers are KingMost, Zita, Theory, Just, Miles Medina, and John Beaver, as well as Seattle winner Four Color Zack and Portland winner Playtime. If last year’s wonderfully diverse crowd and hyper energy are anything to go by, this will be the party.

9 p.m. (show at 9:30 p.m.), $12, 18+

Ruby Skye

420 Mason, SF.

(415) 693-0777

www.redbullusa.com/thre3style

 

Zola Jesus

Russian-American Nika Roza Danilova grew up in Wisconsin, which is pretty much as close to Russia, climate-wise, as you’re going to get in the continental U.S. In the bitter cold of the Midwest, young Danilova sang opera before transitioning into rock, nabbing a keyboard here and a drum machine there. A few EPs, studio albums, and a critically acclaimed LP later, Danilova’s Zola Jesus is preaching to the masses, belting and wailing while electronic glitch samples and piano chords crash against each other. Most recent release Conatus (Sacred Bones Records) is something akin to industrial sprinkled with a pinch of classical, culled together by Danilova’s haunting, resonant voice. (Lee)

With Wymond Miles of the Fresh & Onlys, Talk Normal

9 p.m., $21

Great American Music Hall

859 O’Farrell, SF

(415) 885-0750

www.slimspresents.com


FRIDAY 2

O’ Brother

A brutally captivating four-piece out of Atlanta, O’ Brother combines industrial, screaming metal, and the hard edge of Southern rock. A barrage of guitars —grounded by drummer Michael Martens, with shifting vocals by Tanner Merritt —results in a sound that’s syrupy and sludgy one moment, airy the next. Released in late 2011, O’ Brother’s first full length album, Garden Window, recalls the drive of Queens of the Stone Age, the atmosphere of Sigur Ros, and the march of Tool, without being too heavily indebted to any one part. (Prendiville)

With Junius, Happy Body Slow Brain

9 p.m., $12

Bottom of the Hill

1233 17th St., SF

(415) 621-4455

www.bottomofthehill.com

 

Prizehog

Don’t let the lack of a bassist fool you — Prizehog gets heavy. The San Francisco trio deploys a keyboard alongside large-gauge drums and down-tuned guitar to create music that veers effortlessly between tectonic post-rock, thundering doom blues, and Hawkwind-style, spaceship-launch psychedelia. Patience and an open mind are two necessary virtues; they’ll prepare you for the band’s shuddering builds, non-traditional arrangements, and sudden stylistic shifts. Concertgoers looking for a potent dose of local, experimental volume should look to get high on the ‘Hog. (Ben Richardson)

With Bobb Saggeth, Hell Ship

9 p.m., $8

Thee Parkside

1600 17th St., SF

(415)-252-1330

www.theeparkside.com

 

Ty Segall

Ty Segall has managed to produce ecstatic, psychedelic lo-fi garage punk rock that retains the catchiest elements of rock’n’roll — seductive drumbeats, wailing guitars, and arresting lyrics — really quickly. Last year he released full-length album Goodbye Bread, along with three EPs. This spring he’s touring with Tim Presley of White Fence to promote their collaborative LP, Hair, out April 28. Hair features Segall’s brand of bright and fuzzy electric doo-wop and Lucy-in-the-Sky-with-Diamonds-inspired melodic distortion. Segall rocked the Great American Music Hall last year with his curly blonde head-banging antics and returns this week to shake it out some more. (Mia Sullivan)

With White Fence, Mikal Cronin, the Feeling of Love

8:30 p.m., $15

Great American Music Hall

859 O’Farrell, SF

(415) 885-0750

www.gamh.com


SATURDAY 3

Bad Weather California

Let’s start a new religion. Let’s start a cult. Let’s go to bed. Let’s get high. Let’s get fucked up. Let’s start a band. Let’s get a van. Let’s make some music. Whatever its problems may be, Denver-based freaked out rocker band Bad Weather California offers a lot of simple solutions, without falling into the typical pratfalls of musical contrivance. It’s a rebellious rock streak without being punk, hippy utopian idealism without being a jam band, spiritual fervor without preachy religiosity. The Akron/Family label-mates have a sunny optimism in the face of bad shit and a sound that might have you going along. Maybe even that cult part. (Ryan Prendiville)

With He’s My Brother She’s My Sister

9 p.m., $8–$11

Brick and Mortar Music Hall

1710 Mission, SF

(415) 800-8782

www.brickandmortarmusic.com


SUNDAY 4

“Balboa Birthday Bash”

Hey, jazz baby: between 2011 hits The Artist, Hugo, and Midnight in Paris, the 1920s are the cinematic decade du jour. What better way to re-live the flapper era than at a movie theater that’s been around since 1926? Cheer the Balboa’s 86th birthday — yep, it’s older than the Oscars — at a fiesta co-presented by the San Francisco Silent Film Festival. On tap are a screening of Harold Lloyd classic Safety Last! (1923) on 35mm with piano accompaniment by Frederick Hodges; a screening of shorts by Georges Méliès (a.k.a. Ben Kingsley’s character in Hugo); a live vaudeville show; an illustrated lecture by author and Safety Last! expert John Bengtson; birthday cake; and more. As they said in the ’20s (or at least, they always say in movies set in the ’20s), it’ll be the cat’s pajamas. (Eddy)

7 p.m., $7.50–$10

Balboa Theatre

3630 Balboa, SF

(415) 221-8184

www.balboamovies.com


MONDAY 5

The Driftwood Singers

Listening to the Driftwood Singers makes you feel like you’re ambling down a dusty country road toward something that might not exist anymore. This lo-fi folk duo of Pearl Charles and Kris Hutson writes foreboding, bluesy love ballads laden with longing nostalgia. Charles’ warm, milky vocals blend seamlessly with Hutson’s slightly twangy voice as Charles picks her autoharp and Hutson strums his guitar (or mandolin/banjo, depending on the number). This pair hails from LA (no, really) and recorded their debut EP, Look!, with a Sony Walkman. Their upcoming seven-inch, out March 27, was recorded a bit more expertly, but channels the same raw honesty. (Sullivan)

With Birdhouse, Lauren Shera, and Infantree

8:30 p.m., $12

Café Du Nord

2170 Market, SF

(415) 861-5016

www.cafedunord.com


TUESDAY 6

Mia Doi Todd

Los Angeles singer-songwriter Mia Doi Todd’s latest offering, Cosmic Ocean Ship (City Zen Records), was inspired by journeys into Cuba, Brazil, France, Mexico, and India. Her lilting, reflective vocals relay tones of nostalgia, affection, and optimism. Opening track “Paraty” refers to a Brazilian coastal town and brings in some lighthearted samba, while “Under the Sun” sees Todd turn tropical island chanteuse; her romantic crooning bringing to mind a couple taking a post-luau stroll on the beach. The take-away message might best be encapsulated by Cosmic‘s last track, a touching cover of Chilean Folk artist Violeta Parra’s “Gracias a la vida.” (Lee)

With Bells

8 p.m., $16–$26

Yoshi’s

1330 Fillmore

(415) 655-5600

www.yoshis.com

 

Romeo and Juliet

Romeo and Juliet is the only 20th century ballet that can give a run to the 19th century biggies Nutcracker and Swan Lake. No matter who choreographs, it will find an audience. Fortunately, you have to be really good to keep control of the subject matter’s complexity, not to speak of an audience’s expectation about a beloved story and, of course, the music. Helgi Tómasson has the chops. His 1994 version is gorgeous, sumptuously choreographed and designed. The depth of the company is such that it has any number of first-rate dancers to fill the roles, not just the major ones of the lovers, but minor characters — the villain and the best friend, the gypsy girls and the rejected suitor. (Rita Felciano)

Through March 11, 8 p.m., $36–$285

War Memorial Opera House

301 Van Ness, SF

(415) 865-2000

www.sfballet.org

 

 

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

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

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

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

WEDNESDAY: Cursive at Great American Music Hall

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

THURSDAY: Allah-Las and Budos Band at Independent

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

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

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

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

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

SATURDAY: Atlas Sound at Bimbo’s

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

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

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

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

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

Cursive gets candid during Noise Pop

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

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

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

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

 

All photos by Chris Stevens.

Blues guitarist Gary Clark Jr. solos as long as he damn well pleases

Tony Robles
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Blues guitarist Gary Clark Jr. solos as long as he damn well pleases

“Well you gonna know my name, by the end of the night,” Gary Clark Jr. sings during his take off Jimmy Reed’s blues classic, “Bright Lights, Big City.” The Animals, Rolling Stones, Clapton, Dylan –  many have had their take on it, but Clark flipped the tale of urban intoxication, giving it extra bravado and, with a notable performance at the Crossroads Guitar Festival 2010 and resulting Warner Bros record contract, turned it into an announcement of his own impending stardom (with risks involved).

As Clark Jr. walked out onto the stage of the Great American Music Hall Wednesday night it was clear that “Bright Lights” had been working given that the sold out crowd not only knew who he was, but readily sang him “Happy Birthday.” Of course Clark, turning 28, has had plenty of time to build up a following. At 17, in his home of Austin, TX the mayor was already proclaiming a Gary Clark Jr. Day, on account of his prodigious and heralded guitar skills.

It was those skills that people came out to hear at the Great American, and that’s what they got. There’s a lot of ways someone like Clark could go, but at this point in his career, Clark is still more of an old school, straight ahead blues rockers than successful popular contemporaries like Jack White or the Black Keys’s Dan Auerbach.

Clark opened the night with a couple tracks from his The Bright Lights EP. With “When My Train Pulls In,” he set a simple rule – the length of the songs would be less structured around the verses and would instead go as long as he wanted to solo. That one’s a bit heavier and slow, but he followed it up with “Don’t Owe You A Thang,” a catchy number built from some Bo Diddley-esque guitar playing. Clark would alternately double time or halve the solos, but kept the number well balanced by coming right back in with forceful vocals right before a shift in beat.

As he worked through a set that consisted of some covers and some originals, it was clear that Clark was experimenting with a number of styles, with mixed results. Compared to the confidence on display in “Don’t Owe You A Thang” and “Bright Lights,” the fluttery soul piece, “Things Are Changin’” had a John Meyer quality to it that I found unappealing. Almost reading my mind, Clark finished playing the number and said, “So enough of that sweet soft stuff, we’re about to get crazy up in here.” After a noisy intro that recalled another Austin guitar hero, Eric Johnson, the band started breaking the beat down more, playing “If You Love Me Like You Say,” with a big funky drummer solo, over which Clark pulled out some tricked out technique that sounded more like scratching on vinyl than anything I was expecting.

After a set involving a couple of real stretched out numbers, Clark met expectations with “Bright Lights.” But as he walked off stage it seemed like a number of people either had enough or got what they wanted, not waiting for the encore. People still called for it, though, and the guitarist returned, first without his band, saying “I want some alone time with you guys,” softly playing a couple songs. Anyone who left missed out, as the band came back on stage to closed the night with Curtis Mayfield’s “Move On Up.” It’s a song that’s hard for almost anyone to cover, particularly if they lack a really good horn section. But at Clark Jr.’s hands, it didn’t seem like anything was missing.

1. When My Train Pulls In
2. Don’t Owe You A Thang
3. ?
4. Please Come Home
5. Things Are Changing
6. If You Love Me Like You Say (Albert Collins)
7. 3 O’Clock Blues (Lowell Fulson)
8. ?
9. Bright Lights
Encore
10. When The Sun Goes Down
11. Freight Train (Elizabeth Cotten)
12. Move On Up

Openers:
Aren’t there a lot of bands right now with White Something as their name? In any case, when the White Buffalo finished its set, someone next to me remarked “Man, I wish there were encores for openers. I could go home right now and been glad I heard that.” For my part I could have stood to hear some more of the first opener, White Dress, particularly the twangy, smoky voice of Arum Rae, who seems to do equally well with or without accompaniment.

Everlasting Noise

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Everlasting Noise

emilysavage@sfbg.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time again to start marking those schedules, fanatics.

NOISE POP

Feb. 21-26

Various venues, SF

2012.noisepop.com

 

Live Shots: Los Campesinos! and Parenthetical Girls at Great American Music Hall

Tony Robles
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When I last caught Parenthetical Girls in SF, singer Zac Pennington closed the show in a memorable way: traipsing around the room with a single drum stick, tapping out the solemn beat of “Stolen Children” on every available pint glass, shattering them and covering the floor in shards.

It made for a good show, but I had to imagine that someone – particularly the person that had to sweep up – was not happy. Pennington took time to tell his side of the story while opening for Los Campesinos! Friday night at the Great American Music Hall. With a typical wry petulance, Pennington said it was a reaction to an engineer who did little more than sit and eat pizza during the sound check for the his band, which hails from Portland, Ore. (a place that, the singer remarked, “has taken the crown for white liberal self-importance in the last few years”).

Whether or not that’s a valid reason for his antics, Parenthetical Girls remains a worthwhile live band largely because of Pennington’s theatrics, which combine Rufus Wainwright’s flair for drama with Mick Jagger’s vamping. Between wandering through the crowd with complete disregard, worming his way across stage face down on his stomach, and deep-throating the microphone, it was a surprise that Pennington found time at all to sing (he’s a multitasker).

Only the band’s drummer made any attempt to compete in terms of physical energy Friday, the other two members consistently played with an aloof cool, particularly keyboardist (and Susan Ann Sulley doppelganger Amber Smith,) who managed to stay blasé even as Pennington suggestively wrapped his mic cord around her pale neck. “Point of fact, the only time we ever get to play nice venues in San Francisco is when we play with Los Campesinos,” Pennington noted. “God bless those guys.*”

*Amen.

Our Weekly Picks: February 1-7

Andrew Lam
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WEDNESDAY 1

Kapowski

Oakland-based indie pop quartet Kapowski is celebrating the release of its debut album, Boy Detective, with a party at Rickshaw Stop. With influences including George Gershwin, the Velvet Underground, and David Bowie, it’s no wonder Kapowski’s sound seems very much its own unique creation — sort of a dreamy, eerie, dissonant electric piano-driven march. While Thursday marks the release of the band’s debut album, Kapowski’s vibe has been slow cooking since front man and group visionary Jesse Rimler began collaborating with bassist Jon Gondo during middle school. (Mia Sullivan)

With Mwahaha and Bells

8 p.m., $10

Rickshaw Stop

155 Fell, SF

(415) 861-2011

www.rickshawstop.com


THURSDAY 2

Mostly British Film Festival

February is traditionally an uber-boring month for cinemaniacs — but fret not, local film fans: you need not resort to queuing up at the megaplex to weep at Channing Tatum’s romantic troubles. Not only is IndieFest looming (opening night is Feb. 9), but the Mostly British Film Festival — co-presented by the San Francisco Neighborhood Theater Foundation and the California Film Institute — kicks off tonight, with 28 new and vintage films from the U.K. (duh), Ireland, Australia, and South Africa. Highlights include Ken Loach’s latest, political thriller Route Irish; a complete screening of Michael Apted’s “Up” documentary series; and swinging London time capsule Performance (1970). (Cheryl Eddy)

Through Feb. 9, $12.50

Vogue Theatre

3290 Sacramento, SF

Christopher B. Smith Rafael Film Center

1118 Fourth St., San Rafael

www.mostlybritish.org

 

moe.

There’s nothing quite like seeing a jam show. They tend to involve hours of emphatic lyric shouting, sensual hip swinging, and persistent head nodding. The air smells more like pot than oxygen, lulling you into a stupor that causes you to forget you’ve been expressively swaying to the same song for thirty minutes. While lesser known than Phish and its omnipotent predecessor, the Grateful Dead, moe. has developed a similarly fanatical fan base by producing fun, danceable jams, perfecting the art of improvisation, and consistently engaging audiences at live venues. moe.’s been at it since 1989 and shows no signs of subsiding into irrelevance. Not to be missed. (Sullivan)

Thurs/2-Fri/3, 9 p.m., $30

Independent

628 Divisadero, SF

(415) 771-1421

www.theindependentsf.com

 

“Elegy”

A beatific child, arms outstretched, rides a polar bear through a snowy landscape. A baby rhinoceros ascends through a pink cloudscape, glowing halo floating above its wrinkly gray ears. A brown-robed Saint Francis gazes upon a bleeding fawn — but, wait a second, what’s that falling space junk in the background? And how’d that toy robot get in there? Menlo Park native David Michael Smith’s drawings and paintings “hearken back in style to elegant Renaissance Madonnas and saints, while simultaneously borrowing images from contemporary pop culture,” according to Dana DeKalb’s essay in the catalogue for “Elegy,” his new solo exhibition. The drawings and paintings, many situated in elaborate frames constructed by the artist, have an effect that’s as calming as it is unsettling. (Eddy)

Through March 17

Reception tonight, 5:30 p.m.-7:30 p.m., free

Scott Richards Contemporary Art

251 Post, Ste. 425, SF

(415) 788-5588

www.srcart.com

 

Dengue Fever

During a trip to Cambodia in the 1990s, Zac Holtzman became enamored with ’60s Cambodian pop and set out to create a sound that integrated the genre’s powerful female vocals with the psychedelic surf sound of the American ’60s. Enter Dengue Fever — a six-piece rock band whose Cambodian female vocalist, Chhom Nimol, sings in Khmer and English (sometimes in the same song, often wearing something sparkly), while Holtzman puts down a dazed, surf riff reminiscent of “Wipe Out” with his double-necked guitar chapei. Dengue Fever is set to shake the Great American Music Hall on Thursday and Slim’s Friday, to the delight of Bay Area indie pop fusion enthusiasts. (Sullivan)

With Secret Chiefs 3

8:30 p.m., $20–<\d>$44.95

Great American Music Hall

859 O’Farrell, SF

(415) 885-0750

www.gamh.com


FRIDAY 3

“WTF with Marc Maron”

Part comedy discussion and part no holds barred interview program, Marc Maron’s WTF podcast has emerged as can’t miss listening for anyone curious about the thought processes of modern comedians and performers. The stripped-down feel and anything goes attitude of the show has led to some incredibly personal moments — Todd Glass coming out on a recent episode immediately comes to mind — that are respectfully ushered along by Maron’s neurotic but attentive and no bullshit personality. In a special live taping of the show, he’ll be chatting with a handful of eclectic guests that includes political satirist Will Durst, Arden Myrin (Chelsea Lately), and original Saturday Night Live cast member, Laraine Newman. (Landon Moblad)

10:30 p.m., $25

Cobb’s Comedy Club

915 Columbus, SF

(415) 928-4320

www.cobbscomedyclub.com


SATURDAY 4

“Between Me and the Other World”

Dissecting wounds in under-reported aspects of American history has allowed Joanna Haigood to create some of the Bay Area’s most remarkable dance theater works. So there is every reason to look forward to her newest endeavor, “Between Me and the Other World,” which examines W.E.B. Du Bois’ concept of “double-consciousness,” as analyzed in his The Souls of Black Folk. Using the “veil” as a metaphor, Du Bois eloquently explained the fractured state of being imposed on people who are not allowed to be themselves. Written in 1903, his observations have stood the test of time. For “Between” Haigood, in addition to her own dancers, has enlisted first-rate collaborators in Antony Brown for the music and David Slzasa for the design. This is a work in progress showing and includes a post-performance discussion. (Rita Felciano)

2 p.m., free

ODC Theater

3153 17th St., SF

(415) 822-6744

www.zaccho.org

 

Bob Odenkirk with The Birthday Boys in “Seven-Man Sweater”

Bob Odenkirk (Mr. Show) joins up-and-coming Upright Citizens Brigade troupe The Birthday Boys for two Saturday night performances of “Seven-Man Sweater.” Gaining steam over the past couple years with videos for Funny or Die and writing jobs for the MTV Movie Awards, The Birthday Boys create comedy that successfully blends smart satire and pop culture send-ups. The Los Angeles-based troupe’s style should mesh well with Odenkirk — a legend of the sketch form — in this sure to be hilarious mix of live performance and video shorts. (Moblad)

8 p.m. and 10:30 p.m., $20

Eureka Theatre

215 Jackson, SF

(415) 788-7469

www.sfsketchfest.com

 

Exodus

In the 1980s, thrash reaffirmed the faster-is-better trajectory of heavy metal that was already developing in the mechanistic speed and rhythm of acts like Judas Priest, replacing the big, rounded tones and psychedelic aftertaste of the ’70s with piston-like riffs and angular dual-guitar leads. Thrash, the supremely-aggro next step in this sequence, exists today as something of a brief and punctual link in the great, forbidding chain of heavy metal, but one whose dogged endurance (see: Slayer) guarantees it a permanent appeal. The show brings together fellow Bay Area thrash legends Possessed, Heathen and Forbidden in a memorial for Paul Baloff, the late vocalist of Exodus, who died 10 years ago. (Tony Papnikolas)

With Mad at Sam, Angerhead, Mudface, Hysteria, Hell Fire, and the Venting Machine

6 p.m., $30

Oakland Metro

630 Third St., Oakl.

(510) 763-1146

www.oaklandmetro.org


SUNDAY 5

“Apocalypse Cakes Reading + Eating”

The world is ending soon. Why not eat as much dessert as possible before the inevitable? And why not get into the end-times spirit by whipping up one of Shannon O’Malley’s concoctions from Apocalypse Cakes: Recipes for the End? O’Malley’s book (an offshoot of her tasty and notorious blog) has all the recipes you’ll need to celebrate doomsday, as long as you have a sense of humor: Black Deforestation Cake, Impending Meteorite Rock Candy Cake, Whore of Babylon Fruit Tart, Shifting Poles Pineapple Upside-Down Cake, and, yes, 2012 Mayan Chocolate Cupcakes. Swing by Omnivore Books for a reading and tasting — the countdown is on, so calories totally don’t count. Right? (Eddy)

3 p.m., free

Omnivore Books

3885a Cesar Chavez, SF

www.apocalypsecakes.com


MONDAY 6

Thee Silver Mt Zion

You know how the creation of epic classical music appears to be on the edge of madness, at least, the way it’s depicted in Amadeus (1984)? All ferocious scribblings, and sore hands from tearing furiously into instruments with the passion of a particular set of notes pumping through the veins for hours, days, months. Bloody hands arise, ‘I’ve got it!’ This is how I picture Thee Silver Mt. Zion working. A modern, Canadian, post-punk version of that. Perhaps it’s because of the frequent title reworkings that suggests hyper attention to detail: A Silver Mt. Zion, The Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra & Tra-La-La Band, Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra and Tra-La-La Band with Choir and Thee Silver Mountain Reveries. As part of the Godspeed You! Black Emperor collective, the Montreal-based band gained notoriety for its likewise stunning arrangements, droning movements, improvisational jazz style, and punk ethos. With name changes, lineup shifts, and sound tweaks over the past decade, it’s a wonder they’ve yet to collapse. (Emily Savage)

With Matina Roberts

Great American Music Hall

859 O’Farrell, SF

(415) 885-0750

www.gamh.com


TUESDAY 7

Leni Stern and the Masters of African Percussion

When German-born guitarist Leni Stern traveled to Mali in 2005, she met master musician Bassekou Kouyate, and became entranced with the local percussion instruments and style — later releasing albums such as 2007’s Africa and 2010’s Sa Belle Belle Ba, incorporating the West African sound. A lifelong musician (she won Gibson’s Female Jazz Guitarist of the Year award for five consecutive years) and traveler, she was inspired, to the say the least. At Yoshi’s, she’ll play guitar, n’goni ba, and jeli n’goni, alongside Kofo on talking drum, Alioune Faye on djembe, and Mamadou on bass and additional percussion. (Savage)

8pm, $16.

Yoshi’s

1330 Fillmore, SF

(415) 655-5600

www.yoshis.com


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Nite Trax: Edwardian Baller Justin Katz tells of Gorey origins, steampunk youth, more

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Nite Trax: Edwardian Baller Justin Katz tells of Gorey origins, steampunk youth, more

In this week’s Super Ego nightlife column in the paper, I write about this coming weekend’s giant Edwardian Ball at the Regency Ballroom, which spans five events and welcomes thousands into its playful goth-steampunk-burlesque embrace. Named for Edward Gorey but encompassing more than a few winks at the Edwardian Era of the last turn of the century, the all-ages ball has come to act as a summit for a certain essential, instantly recognizable San Francisco nightlife subculture.

The ball was launched in 2000 by Justin Katz of “premiere pagan lounge ensemble” Rosin Coven and Mike Gaines of the neo-cirque Vau de Vire Society, and has grown enormously in the 12 years since — including branching out to Los Angeles. I interviewed the genial Katz over email about the ball’s Gorey origins, the challenges of expansion, combatting the dreaded FOMO, and welcoming a new generation of Friends of Ed.

SFBG Congrats on 12 years of the Edwardian Ball. When you started this, did you think it would take off in this big a way? Can you share a couple of your favorite memories of the Ball since the “turn of the century”?

JUSTIN KATZ Thank you! Each year in the history of this event has been such an adventure, with unpredictability even for us being a constant! Our first year we used a slide projector to show images from a Gorey book. Slides! The second year we did our first interactive theater with the audience, inviting friends to come up and be part of “The Curious Sofa.” Our fifth year was the first with Vau de Vire Society, one of the best decisions Rosin Coven ever made, and I can’t believe the amount of theatre, aerial, and huge open flames that we fit into the back room of the Cat Club. From then on it’s been astounding to see the growth and participation, first the Great American Music Hall, then up to three nights there before waltzing into our current home, The Regency Ballroom.

SFBG You’re extending the festival over six events this year — can you tell me a little about that? Have you ever had this many events, and is this in response to demand?

JK This is definitely our biggest offering to date. The event has developed in so many ways concurrently that there is just too much to see and do during a nighttime event. The Vendor Bazaar (afternoon of Sat/21) has grown into a world of its own and people want more time to shop and mingle amongst the dozens of amazing artisan vendors we now house for the weekend. It gives people a chance to focus without dreaded FOMO — fear of missing out! — with all of the revelry of the Ball afterwards. And this year’s tea with Professor Elemental (also afternoon of Sat/21) is a new one. We are so pleased to have such an excellent artist flying all the way from the UK that it only seemed proper to have a tea party, and give fans a chance to get up close and personal in a more relaxed setting. So it’s about opening up and spreading things out a bit, to enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0iRTB-FTMdk

SFBG This year’s theme book is the Iron Tonic — will there be specific references to the book, or do you adopt these just as general frameworks to work within? And what are some of the special things you’re looking forward to this year?

JK: Each year Rosin Coven & Vau de Vire Society, co-hosts of The Edwardian Ball, choose a featured Gorey story to bring to life on stage. So this year’s tale is “The Iron Tonic”, which will be presented on Saturday night with original music, staging, choreography, and video as our “big show.” So you will see the story in its entirety. And more, actually, because Vau de Vire always goes to the next level in creating the story – showing you what Gorey doesn’t. One of the most intriguing things about Gorey’s work is that he shows you so little, and implies so much. Vau de Vire plays with character, back story, scenes between the scenes, and really draws you in. Rosin Coven works closely with them developing this and creating the music and narrative that drives and showcases all of the amazing theatrics.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6qgIGKobTe4

Another addition to this year’s event that I just can’t wait to see is our new Museum of Wonders – we’ve added an entire third floor of The Regency to the event, a dense, dark playground of eccentric collections, unusual artifacts, circus sideshows, mechanical dolls that sing you songs, fortune telling, tarot reading, a haunted pipe organ, and a living statue garden by Vau de Vire performing more Gorey stories. We’ve taken the wonderful art that has filled our ballroom and given it its own home, a whole new world to wander during the event, and a place to get away from the crowds for a different experience. This also allows us to open the Ballroom up even more for dancing and enjoying the show – more space to tango!

SFBG I’m fascinated by the general culture that’s coalesced in the past decade or so around the Edwardian Ball — it’s such a San Francisco signature style incorporating burlesque revivalism, playful goth, circus and steampunk, various aspects of Victoriana and Edwardiana. You guys seem to be the major exponents of this certain culture. Have you had any thoughts about it as you’ve seen it develop? What changes or developments have you seen in the Edwardian Ball culture through the years that you’re proud of or that have really made you think?

JK It’s an honor to be recognized as an influence on San Francisco’s style and trends, I’ve always seen us almost more of a great receiver of ideas and influences. We provide a creative, permissive space for people to inspire each other and cross-pollinate. By creating a mood but not strict rules, people have developed their own interpretations and styles over the years, the sum total of which become “Edwardian.” We initially used the name Edwardian just to dress up Edward Gorey, but its been fascinating to see people develop the historic elements of the event on their own. Steampunk is an interesting one too – when we started that word didn’t even exist. We’ve never self-promoted as a “steampunk” event, any more than we would be a “period recreation” event, but we’ve enjoyed the dovetailing of the trend and it’s expansion into more elaborate costume and character. I’ve enjoyed seeing people take Gorey’s work and meld it into their own creations too – characters and monsters and oddities from the pages of his books have been found in the most wonderful corners of the events.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IjjDt2_oKyU

SFBG How has the Los Angeles Ball been going and do you plan to expand further?

JK Los Angeles has been inspiring and challenging. Our first year was gorgeous, held in the mostly-defunct, run down Tower Theater in Downtown LA. It was moody and intriguing, and difficult from a production standpoint. So last year we moved to The Music Box, which is such a great venue. We had a little hiccup when the venue double-booked the night and bumped our date, and we had to push it back a month. But this year The Music Box outdid themselves and shut down a week ago, out of business, so we’re hard at work on finding a new home and date in time to announce at the SF event. LA is just good at tossing us curveballs – but aside from the nuts and bolts we have a wonderful time down there and are inspired and impressed by how ready the crowd is to step up, dress up, and immerse themselves in the Edwardian world. I see no reason not to keep expanding the reach of this event: New York, Seattle, New Orleans, there are so many places that the Edwardian Ball could pay a delightful visit.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D3ISx6UaKw0

SFBG You welcome all ages to the Ball. Do you find that, as steampunk and burlesque enter the mainstream consciousness more, that more younger people are drawn to the culture that the Ball represents?

JK I think that’s a good assessment. I think we’re seeing a couple of groups of younger people – there are those that are drawn to live music, circus, and performance, and this gives them a place to go when most shows are 18+. It’s such a well-behaved crowd – playful but respectful – that we feel good about including all ages and creating a safe space for young people. Their presence adds a really vital energy, and I think affirms that we are creating something that can continue on, it’s not just for the producers and their own social circles. New, young ideas can and will influence where this event goes.

Also, some of the longtime fans are getting older and having children themselves, and starting to bring them to see this unique world. We’re starting to see the “Under-10” crowd show up for the first few hours – they watch the show, climb aboard a bike-powered carnival ride, play midway games with clowns, pose for photos, and head back to school for an unbelievable round of show-and-tell.

Fri/20: Edwardian World’s Faire Kinetic Steam Works, Cyclecide, Vau de Vire, games, and more

Sat/21: Edwardian Ball 2012 “The Iron Tonic” with Jill Tracy, The Fossettes, Miz Margo, and more

Both at Regency Ballroom, 1300 Van Ness, SF. All ages, see www.edwardianball.com for prices, times, and more events.

Live Shots: Starfucker and Painted Palms at Great American Music Hall

Tony Robles
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Though Starfucker hails from Portland, Ore., it’s easy to see why the band feels at home here. If a bunch of hip, pasty dudes performing in drag doesn’t scream “San Francisco,” I don’t know what does. Its name is edgy enough to elicit parental concern (the less offensive STRFKR is often used instead), but Starfucker’s trendy synth-pop is catchy and sweet.

Every time the band rolls through town, it seems like more resident scenesters have been bitten by the Starfucker bug. Maybe it was the release of the delightful Reptilians (Polyvinyl) in March, or its appearance at last summer’s Outside Lands festival that ignited Starfucker pandemonium. Whatever the reason, the group was inspired to put on three Bay Area shows to accommodate voracious fans this time around.

Friday night’s sold-old show at the Great American Music Hall was jam-packed enough to quell the most insatiable appetite. As the band appeared in gaudy thrift store dresses and wigs, the young, attractive crowd went ape. Joints were sparked, beers were lifted, and the band made it impossible to have a bad time.

At every Starfucker show I’ve seen in the past (I’ve seen a lot), the band seemed to rely heavily on the seductive charisma of former lead vocalist Ryan Biornstad. Without Biornstad, the boys mostly resigned to their respective positions on stage with no one taking a lead position. There was, however, plenty of tambourine shaking and wig tossing.

Though slightly less exciting visually, Starfucker sounded better than ever. Melodic synthesizers and guitars meshed with founding member Josh Hodges’ gentle, androgynous vocals. The extremely long set featured a bunch of tracks from Reptilians, including the Passion Pit-esque “Julius,” a hand-clap inciting “Death as a Fetish,” and many older selections from the Starfucker catalog. With its lusty bassline and celestial synths, “Isabella of Castile” served as a reminder that the band’s name was aptly chosen. Other highlights were the Target commercial jam “Rawnald Gregory Erickson the Second” and cover of Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.”

When the set finally concluded, we were a sweat-soaked, satisfied bunch. Those on stage were likely sweatier and undoubtedly more exhausted. There wasn’t much between song banter, but the night began with Hodges declaring the band’s love for San Francisco. Hey Starfucker, the feeling is mutual.

Opener: I spent most of Painted Palms’ set trying to figure out why keyboardist Reese Donohue was giving me major déjà vu. I realized that I’d seen Donohue doing lead vocals during electronica outfit Butterfly Bones’ opening set for Starfucker at the Rickshaw Stop years ago. I’m pretty sure I also saw him on stage with absurd joke rap ensemble Flophouse when it opened for Starfucker side-arm Skeletron at Milk Bar. Painted Palms was, however, the most promising act I’ve seen Donohue perform with so far. A relatively new band with only one EP under its belt, the duo cranked out a short set filled with bright loops and chill vibes, which was a nice way to warm up for Starfucker’s crazy energy.

All photos by Wolfgangg Photography.

Cass McCombs greets the Great American Music Hall crowd warmly

Tony Robles
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Cass McCombs greets the Great American Music Hall crowd warmly

There’s been a lot of talk about how Cass McCombs is an impenetrable character, so much so that it’s become tiring. We’ve heard about his elusiveness and nomadic lifestyle; about his tendency to either act bitterly in interviews (i.e. Pitchfork interview) or shun them altogether. Oh, and that he’s never happy. Admittedly, McCombs has shaped this cryptic persona himself — he’s even made it difficult to know what he looks like (recent photographs have been vague, he’s always altering his “look”). It was an enormous pleasure then on Sunday night to be able to experience the songwriter first hand when he performed at the Great American Music Hall, where it was all about the music.

Before a dazzling wall of batting lights, McCombs stood with his band and seemed to take pleasure in every moment of the concert. The audience gave him a very warm reception and was perhaps appreciative for the same reasons I was — at long last we were having our own experience of McCombs.

The better part of the set was downtempo and tinged with melancholy. Wit’s End, the first of two albums that he released this year on Domino Records, is slow, ethereal, and rooted in what feels like the aftermath of tragedy. Listening to the band perform the single from that record, “County Line,” was grand. If one didn’t appreciate how lovely and original that song was before, one certainly did after last night. It has the mood of an R&B track, and the slow, hushed rhythm section seems to reflect the hopelessness of McCombs’ voice as he sings so simply “you never even tried to love me / what do I have to do / to make you want me?”

Humor Risk, McCombs’ second album of this year, is an effective supplement to Wit’s End in a live context. Compared to Wit’s End, it’s a more buoyant and melodic album. When the band performed songs like “The Same Thing” and “Robin Egg Blue,” it felt like McCombs was taking the audience up for a breath of air before plunging it back into the chilling gloom of Wit’s End.

Earlier in the set, the band performed “Bradley Manning,” a song that McCombs premiered a few days before on the television news show Democracy Now. The “protest” narrative tells the story of Bradley Manning — the 23-year-old intelligence analyst that was arrested for dispatching thousands of classified documents to Wikileaks. McCombs’ detailed story-telling recalls Bob Dylan’s “Hurricane,” and it was played to shouts and whistles of approval from the audience. “Bradley you know you have friends even though you’re locked in there,” McCombs says at the very end of the song. It was one of the highlights of the night. How many of us had forgotten about Bradley Manning, and how many are now discussing his arrest?

As the audience poured out of the venue then, the overwhelming thought on everyone’s mind was probably not “who is Cass McCombs?” but something like “wow — so that’s Cass McCombs.”

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