Great American Music Hall

Our Weekly Picks: November 30-December 6

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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WEDNESDAY 30

“Flotsam and Jetsam: The Spray of History”

The ceaselessly inventive Los Angeles filmmaker Lewis Klahr comes to town for two shows this week. Joseph Cornell’s boxes are perhaps the most convenient reference point for Klahr’s richly emotional collage animation, though his handmade films’ range of tones and complex interlacing of pop culture and personal sentiment really merits stand-alone consideration. This PFA program samples Klahr’s recent short films, while the SF Cinematheque show at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts on Friday focuses on Klahr’s ongoing series of sublime musical memory pieces, Prolix Satori. The two shows have no overlapping films, which among other things means you get to appreciate Klahr’s Brill Building ear for titles (A Thousand Julys, False Aging, Wednesday Morning Two A.M., Daylight Moon, Well Then There Now). (Max Goldberg)

7:30 p.m., $9.50

Pacific Film Archive Theater

2575 Bancroft, Berk.

(510) 642-1412

www.bampfa.berkeley.edu

www.sfcinematheque.org

 

Lemuria

You would think that a band called Lemuria — a hypothetical continent said to have submerged into the depths of the Indian Ocean — would sound along the lines of Vangelis or Tangerine Dream. But the trio from Buffalo, NY, takes after alternative pop-punk predecessors like Superchunk and the Breeders. Sheena Ozella and Alex Kerns started Lemuria in 2004, taking on bass player Jason Draper a year later. Since then, Lemuria has matured into a band that’s at once frisky and endearing, dynamic and biting. On Lemuria’s newest album, Pebble (Bridge 9), Ozella and Kerns alternate on vocals in such a way that inspires deep sighs, like you’ve just spotted an adorable little dog. But when Ozella’s tough and vivacious guitar playing takes a front-seat, you realize that dog can bite. (James H. Miller)

With the Pillowfights!, Matsuri

9 p.m., $10

Bottom of the Hill

1233 17th St., SF

(415) 621-4455

www.bottomofthehill.com

 

FRIDAY 2

“Danzón”

It’s hard to imagine contemporary dance and performance without the seminal influence of German choreographer-performer Pina Bausch, whose work was so different when it started in the 1970s that it spawned its own genre: dance theater. Bausch’s gorgeous visual aesthetic, wildly eclectic movement, incorporation of speech and unbridled emotion, and her collaborative, searching process all contributed to a remaking of the landscape. The subject of a recent 3D documentary tribute by Wim Wenders, Bausch (who died in 2009) left behind a supreme body of work that her company continues to perform around the world. This weekend, Tanztheater Wuppertal Pina Bausch offers Danzón, Bausch’s poignant, humor-filled celebration of life’s journey in the teeth of death. No 3D specs required. (Robert Avila)

Through Dec. 3, 8 p.m., $30

Zellerbach Hall, Berk.

(510) 642-9988

www.calperformances.org

 

 

“True Stories Lounge”

As the cliché goes, truth is stranger than fiction — and knowing that a story is true (or at least somewhat “based on a true story,” Texas Chainsaw Massacre-style) makes it all the more fascinating. The ongoing series “True Stories Lounge” brings together a varied slate of word-wranglers to spin compelling non-fiction tales. This edition’s storytellers include spoken word artist Alan Kaufman, who’ll read from his new memoir, Drunken Angel; comedian Marilyn Pittman, talking through a family tragedy; Salon.com founder David Talbot, reading from his soon-to-be-released book of San Francisco history; Bay Citizen editor Steve Fainaru, a 2008 Pulitzer winner, discussing Iraq; and Brando biographer Peter Manso, reading from his latest Cape Cod-set true crime book. (Cheryl Eddy)

7:30 p.m., $10

Make-Out Room

3225 22nd St., SF

www.makeoutroom.com

 

 

Benoit & Sergio

“Sergio used to be my English teacher,” reads a YouTube comment for “Walk and Talk.” How hard it would be to explain a lyric like “My baby does K all day” at a parent-teacher conference? In 2009 Sergio quit the D.C. prep school racket to make music full-time with French expatriate Benoit. The electronic duo has quickly built a reputation on less than a dozen tracks released across Ghostly International, Visionquest, and DFA. With an original sound that mixes ecstatic techno house, melancholic late-night soul, and playfully barbed vocals, this will be the SF debut of the pair’s live show. (Ryan Prendiville)

With No Regular Play and DJ sets by Pillowtalk, Thee Mike B, Rich Korach, and more

9 p.m., $15-20

Public Works

161 Erie, SF

(415) 932-0955

www.publicsf.com

 

SATURDAY 3

Papercuts

Founder and lead songwriter of Papercuts, Jason Robert Quever, has a knack for softly wooing listeners into his songs. Part of the seductiveness is Quever’s voice. You tend to follow its breathiness until you’re deep in his weightless and roomy dream pop. On Papercuts’ Fading Parade, the band’s debut album on Subpop, which came out earlier this year, Quever can sound like a love sick ghost, padding around and whispering pleas in your ear. His vocals hover over a lulling swathe of reverb, but drums and guitars retain enough crispness so as not to become a colorless drone. It’s a carefully weighted balance, and one that’s well worth witnessing live. (Miller)

With Dominant Legs, Tim Cohen’s Magic Trick

9 p.m., $12

Rickshaw Stop

155 Fell, SF

(415) 861-2011

www.rickshawstop.com

 

 

“In the Red — Flaming Lotus Girls Gallery Show”

The Flaming Lotus Girls always go big, pushing the envelope on fire arts innovation every year at Burning Man and other festivals. That’s a big reason why I profiled them in my book, The Tribes of Burning Man: How an Experimental City in the Desert is Shaping the New American Counterculture. And it’s also why they’re in debt, now more than most years. So come mingle, marvel at their fiery artworks, dance to DJs from Space Cowboys and the Ambient Mafia, buy some art (including photo prints of FLG projects) or shwag (from the FLG’s autographed and lipstick-kissed calendar to copies of my book that I’ll be selling and signing there), and help the Flaming Lotus Girls get out of the red and into active preparations for its next big project. (Steven T. Jones)

With Deckward, 8Ball, Olde Nasty, and more

6 p.m.-2a.m., free but donations accepted

SomArts

934 Brannan, SF

(415) 552-1770

www.flaminglotus.com

 

 

“The Bay Brewed: A Rock and Roll Beer Festival”

Live music and drinking clearly go well with together. Unfortunately, beer festivals too often conjure up images of boring C list jam bands or old-timers working their way through a bunch of Creedence covers. Not the case with The Bay Brewed, a beer festival and music showcase mash-up put on by the folks over at The Bay Bridged blog. Along with unlimited tastings from 21st Amendment, Anchor Steam, Lagunitas, and Magnolia, among others, admission includes performances by some great local bands. Pick up a complimentary mug and catch the shoegaze-y post-punk of Weekend, the psychedelic rock of Sleepy Sun, the dub-tinged Extra Classic, and the punky power pop of Terry Malts. (Landon Moblad)

2-7 p.m., $55

Verdi Club

2424 Mariposa, SF

(415) 861-9199

www.thebaybridged.com/the-bay-brewed

 

SUNDAY 4

Cass McCombs

Similar to the nomadic lifestyle he’s maintained over the years, Cass McCombs creates music that can be tough to pin down. Though he was born in Concord and has considered the Bay Area home at various points in his career, the indie singer-songwriter has bounced all over the country, eschewing traditional genre expectations in the process. Wit’s End and Humor Risk, McCombs’ two 2011 albums, fully demonstrate his maturing take on sparse folk, dreamy pop, and melancholic rock spiked with just the right amount of humor.(Moblad)

With White Magic, Liza Thorn

8 p.m., $16

Great American Music Hall

859 O’Farrell, SF

(415) 885-0750

www.slimspresents.com

 

MONDAY 5

The Sea and Cake

Merely listening to indie veteran the Sea and Cake’s extensive catalog of material is an exhausting feat. With jazz, Brazilian, and African influences, this band has been generating a unique sound for more than 20 years. Characterized by Sam Prekop’s breathy vocals and delicate guitar work, the Sea and Cake has long provided the perfect soundtrack for mellowing out with your friends. The group embraced a more experimental sound for this year’s The Moonlight Butterfly (Thrill Jockey), its first release since 2008. Timelessly hip, yet approachable, start your week off right with the effervescent jams of the Sea and Cake. (Frances Capell)

With Lia Ices

8 p.m., $21

Great American Music Hall

859 O’Farrell, SF

(415) 885-0750

www.slimspresents.com

 

TUESDAY 6

Jeffrey Lewis & the Junkyard

Jeffrey Lewis is a jack of all trades. His style encompasses both cerebral folk and grungy, distorted garage rock. Though his lyrics may come across as stream-of-conscience tangents, Lewis’ witty songs are brimming with clever and heartbreaking observations. The musician is also an accomplished comic book artist, and his illustrations often accompany his live performances. Topics of discussion include LSD, farm animals, and the history of Communism. Is there anything Lewis can’t do? (Capell)

With the Yellow Dress, Tortured Genies

8 p.m., $10

Rickshaw Stop

155 Fell, SF

(415) 861-2011

www.rickshawstop.com

 

 

Other Lives

Other Lives is building a lot of momentum in the wake of Tamer Animals (TBD Records), the band’s latest album. The five-piece from Stillwater, Okla., supported Bon Iver on tour, and afterward, played headline shows across Europe. Eclipsing its recent successes, though, was the announcement that it will support Radiohead on its U.S. Tour, beginning in February. The momentum is certainly deserved. Tamer Animals is dim folk-rock that builds on robust orchestration — violins, cellos, clarinets, and horns all have a grand presence on the record. Once an instrumental collaboration called Kunek, Other Lives still has an appreciation for the slightest sonic details, so that nearly every moment has something to call surprising, if not riveting. (Miller)

With JBM

9 p.m., $12

Cafe Du Nord

2170 Market, SF

(415) 861-5016

www.cafedunord.com

 

 

Anna Calvi

Praised by Brian Eno as “the best thing since Patti Smith,” dark songstress Anna Calvi also exudes the fierce swagger and edgy sex appeal of predecessors PJ Harvey and Pat Benatar. Calvi’s flamenco and blues-tinged debut earned her critical acclaim and a Mercury Prize nomination for best album of 2011. A backing band consisting of Mally Harpaz on harmonium and percussion and Daniel Maiden-Wood on drums heightens the drama of Calvi’s cinematic anthems. Armed with a guitar and a voice that’s both sultry and operatic, the fiery Calvi seduces everything in her path. (Capell)

8 p.m., $17 Great American Music Hall 859 O’Farrell, SF (415) 885-0750 www.slimspresents.com 

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The Hangover: Nov. 10-12

Andrew Lam
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**The sunny, indie rock jams of Ridgewood, NJ’s Real Estate cured my rainy day blues on Friday night at Slim’s. San Francisco’s unshaven, flannel-clad urban lumberjacks showed up en masse to seek shelter from the rain and soak up some seriously good vibes. The five-piece kicked off with “Suburban Beverage” from its 2009 self-titled debut. Inviting us to mellow out, leader Martin Courtney repeated the song’s only words, “Budweiser, Sprite, do you feel alright?” Fans responded with blissful head-nodding. See full story here. (Frances Capell)

**I shall refrain from naming this unnamed SF bar for reasons that will soon become clear. On Friday night I took a group of females out for a night of drinking, dancing, and old school friendly conversations. At the bar where we eventually landed, the DJs were spinning what amounted to Bar Mitzvah music. No, not Hebraic, religious, Cantorial chants, I’m talking about the Celebrate Good Times after-party repeated hits, the ones we’ve all just heard too many times, at the aforementioned life changing parties, and in commercials for cheap burgers or pull-up diapers, at the dentist’s office (my dentist keeps the mood perky). The meandering blob of drinkers seemed confused — but willing, determined — to dance to this godforsaken sound. I, however, could not muster enough enthusiasm. (old-stick-in-the-mud, Emily Savage)

**It wouldn’t (quite) be fair to fault the party for the muscle-bound tank top clones posing sullenly about the edges of the dancefloor and truth be told, the beats coming from Stallion Saturdays at Rebel more than made up for all the unyielding musculature in the club. Seattle’s DJ Nark had appeared for the evening, sporting fetching neckwear and spinning even more fetching, not-corny-at-all jams from disco greats to more current, creepy-good modern bangers. By the end of the night the place was packed, just packed with hairless wonders, swaying slightly to the tune of their sugar-free Red Bull-vodkas. (Caitlin Donohue)

**The cooperative music project known as BOBBY may never be conventionally popular. Founded by Tom Greenberg as a multimedia project at Vermont’s Bennington College, BOBBY’s avante-garde psych-folk tunes are favored by the nerdiest of music geeks. That said, my fondness for BOBBY’s strange, multi-layered debut album was enough to send me across town in dismal weather to catch its brief opening set at Bottom of the Hill on Saturday night. It was an uncharacteristically mature crowd for the venue, peppered with the occasional young art hippie. Four members of the sometimes septet were present, all of whom sported bizarre blonde wigs. The band opened with the cinematic “We Saw,” and continued on to “Sore Spores,” the catchy standout track from its debut. Weird samples and synths were paired with guitar, drums, and crazy vocal harmonies. BOBBY finished with an untitled, totally epic track and left the stage long before I was ready to say goodbye. (Frances Capell) 

**Guitarists strummed intricately, singers rang out piercingly in throaty voices, everyone clapped complicated rhythms, and brightly costumed dancers stomped, shouted, and whirled until they could no more at San Francisco Theatre Flamenco‘s thrilling “45 Años de Arte Flamenco” celebration at the Marines Memorial Theater on Saturday. Although guest dancer Manuel Gutierrez couldn’t be there due to visa issues (this is happening to a lot of performers lately!), the fantastic Juan Siddi took over with jaw-dropping, toreador-jacketed moves. Company artistic director Carola Zertuche fascinated with her regal bearing and sprightly footwork, while a chromatic bulerías dance by Cristina Hall (accompanied in the beginning by Alex Conde playing the strings of his piano) was eerily contemporary and deeply engaging. Singers Kina Mendez and Jose Cortes mesmerized with entwined cries and intimations of extreme longing. Olé! (Marke B.)

**Toward the end of a tight, danceable set at the Great American Music Hall on Saturday night – a performance that was, by the way, dedicated to Occupy Oakland – Austra’s glorious vocalist Katie Stelmanis told the crowd this show was the best of the tour. My mind went black and the thought flashed: I bet she says that to all the cities. I felt a pang of jealousy. Though the operatic electro-new wave act is based in Canada, I wanted her – and the rest of the band – to love San Francisco most of all, to blow us sugary, synth-soaked kisses for eternity. The night started with such a snag, a quartet of sorrowful hipsters pretending to see a friend “Oh Sarah! I think she’s up there all alone” and bully their way into a hot and packedthistight crowd, but when crystal-throated Stelmanis fluttered out in a flowy cape-dress, looking like a peroxide cult leader, flanked on either side by two back-up singers in gold-lined black tunics, it was hard to stay pissy long. Song three: the emblematic stunner “Lose It.” (Emily Savage) 

**The stage lights go dark and the rainbow of panels on the front start to glow as Holy Ghost! takes the stage at Slim’s, launching into “Static on the Wire,” from its 2010 EP of the same name. Although Holy Ghost! is just two guys, Nick Millhiser and Alex Frankel, they’ve enlisted a number of other musicians (including the drummer who played earlier with Jessica 6) to bolster the live show, just as James Murphy did for the live LCD Soundsystem performances. Frankel, sporting the second leather jacket of the night, is on vocal duties, while Millhiser is stationed on guitar behind a pair of floor toms. The bands takes moves into familiar territory with “It’s Not Over,” not just because it’s one of their more recognizable songs, but because it has what I can only assume to be a deliberate lyrical reference to New Order’s “Bizarre Love Triangle.” (Ryan Prendiville)

 

The Hangover: Nov. 3-5

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Hangover: Oct. 7-9

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

***Blow Up is reputed to be the best party in the city. I’ll say it’s almost certainly the best regular event for the 18+ crowd. But rule number one of going to a 18+ club event: don’t wear your nice shoes, even if the code does say “dress to impress.” It was only thanks to sheer luck and repeat viewings of The Matrix that I managed to avoid a geyser of projectile vomit in The Factory’s overcrowded men’s room Saturday night at Blow Up Forever II. “You go here.” I said, guiding the poor kid to the urinal I was about to use. “I’ll wait for the stall.” Click here for full story. (Ryan Prendiville) 

***Stationary bikes snuggled into the corners of Public Works’ sweaty cavern of a first floor, but the realness of the Bikes and Beats party on Friday was onstage. The event was billed as J Boogie’s album release party and the DJ spent the night doing what he does best: orchestrating sick collaborations. At one point he had Jazz Mafia (including emcee Aima the Dreamer) and Duece Eclipse sharing the stage with him simultaneously. That’s a lot of local live luminaries to look at. (Caitlin Donohue)

***Overt-sweetness ran emboldened through Twin Sister’s set opening for Pains of Being Pure at Heart on Friday at Slim’s, leaving a trail of cotton candy kisses in its wake. Lead singer Andrea Estella, hugging herself tightly, laid out tender and girlish vocals over the band’s funked out disco’d-Cardigans tone. The Long Island band, spread across stage in a perfect line at the front, pulled through decorated versions of “Bad Street” and other tunes off its highly enjoyable, recently released album, In Heaven. The only misstep, in my mind, is the oddly nasally pop tune “Saturday Sunday.” It’s too cutesy, the call and response of weekend days is at times cloying. By contrast, Pains of Being Pure at Heart kept it moody, with songs like “Heart in Your Heartbreak” recalling the darkened club scenes from Nic Cage classic, Valley Girl, when the Plimsouls’ thrust into “A Million Miles Away.” Quick tip: Slim’s has a pretty decent hummus plate. (Emily Savage)

***Completely inappropriate for a blog feature called the Hangover, but nonetheless we must give props to the Life Is Living Festival on Saturday in West Oakland’s De Femery Park for being the Bay’s feel-good event of the year. Was it the way the breakdancing children spun blithely on their heads? Maybe the youth parkour obstacle course, spoken word stage, or arts and crafts tables? Probs an amalgamation of it all. Plus, Los Rakas and ?uestlove made for a slammin’ live block party soundtrack. Click here for full story. (Donohue)

***(See accompanying photo) Someone had to make a statement at this weekend’s West Coast Cannabis and Music Festival — the medical marijuana industry is in absolute turmoil after last week’s forboding ruling by the IRS about Harborside Health Center’s tax status. Speaker Senator John Vasconsellos spoke to a multitudinous crowd at one stage (perhaps the free joints that promoters promised to anyone willing to take a seat upped number a little), and outside in the sunshine Rock the Bike bravely endeavored to keep the music stage pedal-powered, despite a location off the festival’s beaten track and corresponding dearth of volunteers.  

***Emotions ran high for the second consecutive sold-out Girls show at the Great American Music Hall last night. Chris Owens, JR White, and their talented ensemble were perfectly in sync as they treated us to a lengthy set highlighted by a trio of charismatic female vocalists. A powerful solo from one of the ladies made for an especially moving rendition of “Vomit.” Girls played nearly every song from Father Son Holy Ghost as well as old favorites like “Heartbreaker,” “Hellhole Ratrace,” and “Lust For Life.” The high point for me was the tender encore of “Jamie Marie,” which began with just Owens and his guitar on the flower ornamented stage before the rest of the band stepped out to resounding applause. The rapport between band members was palpable and I couldn’t help feeling a little bummed to be witnessing the closing chapter of their national tour. (Frances Capell)

***”This is the only mayoral candidate that’s doing drag events!” The woman at the door was, of course, wrong — just last week Lil Miss Hot Mess coupled with Queers for John Avalos to through the high school-themed Homo Homecoming at the Verdi Club. But last night’s Bevan Dufty’s “Politics is a Drag” campaign fundraiser was staged by the mayoral race’s only gay candidate, which was good enough reason to attract a Florence and the Machine-themed number from La Monistat and a return to the Sarah Palin costume that Anna Conda donned for a Work More! event — a reprise of a number she choreographed with the help of Guardian Managing Editor Marke B. (Caitlin Donohue)

***The Stevie Nicks show at The Fillmore on Sunday night was like a time warp to an early 1980s high school. Although most of the women in the audience were in their 40s and 50s, they were competing for “Best Dressed” like girls more than half their age. They paid tribute to their Queen Stevie in dark velvet, shimmering shawls, and long skirts. If I didn’t know better, I would say they’d kept those clothes in their closets for 20 years just for this occasion. But shopping with my mom has taught me that they sell it all at Chico’s. Click here for full story. (Ann Edwards) 

Live Shots: Dum Dum Girls/Crocodiles at the Great American Music Hall

Tony Robles
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The new Dum Dum Girls album, Only in Dreams, has left such an indelible impression on me, that I was surprised when the four-piece surf-garage band jumped into “Bhang Bhang, I’m a Burnout” for its second song last night at the Great American Music Hall. I’d all but forgotten about the song, a tune that I’d fallen in love with – hard – not more than a year prior when it appeared on the band’s debut, I Will Be. It was a welcome reminder, as was the rest of the set, of both its strong lo-fi past, and hard-earned rock future – those descriptors mostly applying to electrifying frontperson Dee Dee.

She looks like a rocker, in signature striped black tights (which I also spotted on at least two other females in the crowd) and black leather jacket, along with the fringe of black bangs. But it’s her style, her commanding voice, and quick snarls with squeezed shut eyes that solidify the role. In between Dee Dee’s husband’s set (he of the quite fun retro Jesus and Mary Chain-esque San Diego act Crocodiles), and the Dum Dums, the house spun ’60s girl groups chant-alongs, a good choice for the night’s entertainment. Once the Dum Dums appeared, a few males shouted flirtatious admiration. The non-stop talking duo of middle-aged white men in front of me seemed appreciative too, yet never lulled their own veryimportant chatter. I did the twist out of that section.

There were a few technical difficulties, problems with the rhythm guitar sound apparently, and extra-long tuning, but it hardly detracted from the main show. The Dum Dums play enjoyable music, period. It’s reminiscent of Leader of the Pack-girl gangers but has that great fuzzy garage guitar edge. It’s all I wanted as a teenage girl looking for something vintage-modern that spoke to me. I wanted the Switchblade Sisters in rock form. I just had to wait a decade.

The biggest moment of the night came at the very end during the the brief encore when the quartet returned to play Only in Dreams‘ echoing, rolling epic, “Coming Down.” The strength of Dee Dee’s voice when the song breaks and she hits  “here I go-o-o” rang through the Great American with raw power — the crowd cheered when she reached that high note. It was like exorcizing demons, or willfully falling down the rabbit hole. We were then left to fend for ourselves out in that cruel rainy abyss of the Tenderloin.

 

All photos by Chris Stevens.

Localized Appreesh: The Soft White Sixties

Tony Robles
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Localized Appreesh: The Soft White Sixties

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

You know that feeling when you’re aware you’re hearing a song for the first time, yet it feels as though it’s always been there? It’s new-to-you but there’s something familiar, reassuring – it just works right, pinging back and forth through your ear drums and pulsating brain muscle. That’s how I felt when I first listened to the cool swagger of San Francisco’s the Soft White Sixties. The hard rocking quintet, formed by Mexican-American singer-songwriter Octavio Genera, has a real tight grip (full disclosure, “real tight  grip” is a lyric from SWS’s song “Too Late”) on classic Seventies rock’n’roll – with all the shoulder-shaking percussion, the bluesy rock riffs, and Genera’s soul-tinged Southern rock bravado.

The band had a pretty memorable year, performing with pals the Stone Foxes at Great American Music Hall during Noise Pop, hitting SXSW, touring the States, and at the start of summer, appearing at the Harmony Festival in Sonoma and the High Sierra Music Festival. Now summer is officially over, and the boys are back in town. Next up, a show at Bottom of the Hill tomorrow night.

Year and location of origin: 2008, the Haight.
Band name origin: Somebody had a bright idea
Band motto: “Wear it a lot, wash it a little”
Description of sound in 10 words or less: Rock ‘n’ roll, heavy on the roll, dipped in soul
Instrumentation: Guitar, keys, bass, drums, and vocals – and a runaway tambourine
Most recent release: self-titled EP (April 2011) – get it here.
Best part about life as a Bay Area band: The coastal fog and burritos
Worst part about life as a Bay Area band: Bridge tolls and parking tickets
First record/cassette tape/or CD ever purchased:
Octavio: Sound Effects Vol.1 (Track 25, “Car Starting” was a favorite).
Joey: Jodeci.
Ryan: Skid Row s/t (cassette), Wreckx N Effect Hard or Smooth (CD).
Aaron: Probably something like Enema of the State or Punk in Drublic.
Josh: The Simpsons Sing the Blues.
Most recent record/cassette tape/CD/or Mp3 purchased/borrowed from the Web:
Octavio: Black Girl (iTunes single Lenny Kravitz).
Joey: 100 classic French songs for $9.99.
Ryan: Wilco The Whole Love, Belle & Sebastian “The Blues Are Still Blue” iTunes single.
Aaron: Portugal. The Man – In the Mountain In the Cloud.
Josh: Blakroc
Favorite local eatery and dish: La Santeneca(3781 Mission St), best pupusas in the city.

The Soft White Sixties
With Mona and Funeral Party
Weds/5, 9 p.m., $12
Bottom of the Hill
1233 17th St., SF
www.bottomofthehill.com

Our Weekly Picks: September 28-October 4

Andrew Lam
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THURSDAY 29

We Don’t Belong Here Do we belong in our bodies, our skin, our families, this public space, this architectural space, this city space, the Milky Way, the planet, our species, the universe? Inquiring minds want to know. In We Don’t Belong Here, collaborators Katie Faulkner, choreographer and artistic director of little seismic dance company, and multimedia artist Michael Trigilio, along with a robust cast of 20 dancers, premiere a dance and media response to these questions as an impromptu renegade, do-it-yourself sideshow. The free performances, commissioned by Dancers’ Group as part of their Onsite series, take place at San Francisco’s Union Square and Yerba Buena Lane. Be sure to wear your San Francisco layers. (Julie Potter)

Through Fri/29, also Sun/2, 8 p.m., free

Union Square

Powell and Geary, SF

(415) 920-9181

www.dancersgroup.org

 

Quick Billy

Bruce Baillie’s high masterpiece moves from wounded channeling of The Tibetan Book of the Dead to metaphysical Western in the span of four reels. Baillie had thoroughly mastered his sentient film language of dissolves and superimpositions by the time of this 1970 effort. As Baillie noted then, “All of the film was recorded next to the Pacific Ocean in Fort Bragg, California, from dreams and daily life there; all of it given its own good time to evolve and become clear to me.” It still has that mysterious air of something slowly clarifying itself. Baillie, who founded Canyon Cinema fifty years ago, will be in attendance with a newly restored print of the film. (Max Goldberg)

7 p.m., $7-10

San Francisco Museum of Modern Art

151 Third St., SF

415-337-4000

www.sfmoma.org

 

Faustin Linyekula/Studios Kabako

“I am an African dancer. I tell exotic stories. Which one would you like today?” Congolese choreographer Faustin Linyekula does have stories to tell. Yet they have little to do with prettified harvest dances and initiation rituals. His tales are gritty, urban, and razor sharp. As a performer Linyekula is mesmerizing, a tornado of rage and vulnerability. For “more, more, more..future”, in addition to his fabulous male dancers, Linyekula is bringing a Congolese band with an indigenous pop style, ndombolo that mashes Western and African influences. Also integral to this local premiere are poems by political prisoner Antoine Vumilia Muhindo, Lineykula’s childhood friend. (Rita Felciano)

Through Sat/1, 8 p.m., $20–$25

Novellus Theater, Yerba Buena Center for the Arts

701 Mission, SF

(415) 978-2787

www.ybca.org

 

 

Weedeater

Weedeater is technically a power trio, but when the band performs, all eyes are on “Dixie” Dave Collins, its inimitable bassist-singer. With his instrument slung so low it threatens tangle between his legs, the manic North Carolingian stands cross-eyed at the mic, screaming so vehemently that it often looks like he’s about to swallow it whole. Though guitarist Dave “Shep” Shepard and drummer Keith “Keiko” Kirkum form a potent partnership, it’s Collins’ pungent bass tone that drives the music. Waves of down-tuned punishment and caterwauling fuzz seem to pour forth unabated from his amps, made musical only through Dixie’s nimble-fingered intercession. Channeled into riff after thundering riff, the onslaught is impossible to ignore. (Ben Richardson)

With Fight Amp, Bison, Saviours

8 p.m., $18

The Independent

628 Divisadero, SF

(415) 771-1421

www.theindependentsf.com


FRIDAY 30

Chicken John’s Book Release and Street Party

Chicken John Rinadi — a legendary local showman, provocateur, and one-time mayoral candidate — has written a book: The Book of the IS: Fail…To WIN! Essays in engineered disperfection. And in true Chicken fashion, he’s throwing an over-the-top book launch party featuring a stellar lineup of artists (56 of whom are designing custom book covers, including Swoon, Brian Goggin, and Rosanna Scimeca); installation art pieces by Michael Christian, Charlie Gadeken, and some Flaming Lotus Girls; live performances by Spacecraft and the Art of Bleeding; art cars and Doggie Diner heads; readings by special guests; and all manner of strange countercultural and cacophonic creations, all spilling out of the gallery into a closed-down Minna Street. This one is not to be missed. (Steven T. Jones)

7 p.m.-2 am, free

111 Minna, SF

(415) 974-1719

bookoftheis.com


FRIDAY 30

Saxon

Though they have since been overshadowed by Iron Maiden and Judas Priest, there was a time when Saxon rode on the foam-flecked crest of the New Wave of British Heavy Metal. Members have come and gone throughout the years, but a hard-rocking core formed by singer Peter “Biff” Byford and guitarist Paul Quinn dates back to the band’s beginnings in Yorkshire, in 1976. Eschewing the operatic excesses of its better-known competitors, the band has penned a vast repertoire of hard-charging, blue collar anthems. When Saxon takes the stage in Santa Clara, the fans will be wearing “Denim and Leather,” and they will expect some “Heavy Metal Thunder.” (Richardson)

With Haunted by Heroes, Hatchet, Borealis

8:30 p.m., $20

The Avalon

777 Lawrence Expressway, Santa Clara

(408) 241-0777

www.avalonsantaclara.com


SATURDAY 1

Alternative Press Expo

Although the ranks of off-the-beaten-cape comic artists swell each year at the mega-convention that is Wonder Con, the indie comic crown in San Francisco is reserved for Wonder’s younger sister, the Alternative Press Expo. At APE, special guests include not Stan Lee and Ryan Reynolds, but instead Daniel Clowes, creator of edgily neurotic texts like Wilson; Kate Beaton and her feminist re-takes of the days of the American revolution and Nancy Drew book covers; Adrian Tomime, who masterminds the Optic Nerve series. The convention also places an emphasis on pairing illustrators and writers, a useful tool for those that wish to traverse the underground tunnel to indie fame. (Caitlin Donohue)

Also Sun/2, 11 a.m.-7 p.m., $10 one day/$15 weekend pass

Concourse Exhibition Center

635 Eighth St., SF

www.comic-con.org/ape

 

World Vegetarian Day

Are you tentatively eying the nutritional yeast bins and blocks of jalapeño smoked tofu in the grocery store, unsure if you’re ready to take the leap beyond an animal product-dependent lifestyle? What you need is a heaping serving of vegetarian community. Enter the SF Vegetarian Society’s World Vegetarian Day expo, a meat-free miracle for those with a craving for more information on the veggie life. Two days of environmental, nutritional, and anti-paleo diet speakers have been scheduled, and those looking for a more experiential weekend can nosh on Saturday’s raw and vegan dinners — or even check out that day’s rounds of vegan speed dating. (Donohue)

Also Sun/2 10 a.m.-6 p.m., $8 suggested donation

County Fair Building

Ninth Ave. and Lincoln, SF

(415) 273-5481

www.sfvs.org/wvd

 

The Beat Is the Law: Fanfare for the Common People

It’s a musical fairytale story so good it could be a bad Mark Wahlberg movie: a lesser known band (Pulp) gets tapped to replace a headlining act (The Stone Roses) at a music festival (Glastonbury) and ends up blowing the non-existent roof off the place. Okay, so maybe it’s not a Wyld Stallyns level achievement, but it was supposed to be a helluva show and breakthrough in 1990s Britpop. Beyond myth-making in just the one moment, Eve Wood’s documentary, The Beat Is the Law, focuses on the decade building up to Glastonbury, in which Pulp seemed to be the little band that couldn’t. (Ryan Prendiville)

7:30 and 9:30 p.m., $10

Roxie Theater

3117 16th St., SF

(415) 863-1087

www.roxie.com

 

DARK PASSAGE

Celebrating the 10th anniversary of their “Film In The Fog” series, The San Francisco Film Society is presenting Dark Passage, the classic 1947 film noir thriller starring Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall that was both set and filmed in San Francisco. Follow the exploits of Bogey as the wrongfully-convicted man on the run through the city at this special free outdoor screening, where audience members can set up blankets and lawn chairs and get cozy under the stars — or the city’s signature layers of fog. The movie will be preceded by a performance by local rockers Grass Widow, along with screenings of a ’50s era newsreel and a cartoon. (Sean McCourt)

5:30 p.m., free

Outside of Presidio Main Post Theater

99 Moraga, SF

www.sffs.org


SUNDAY 2

The Hades Channel

Sure, Gwyneth Paltrow just won an Emmy for guest-starring on Glee. Though she’s objectively the personification of modern evil, sinister stunt casting is actually nothing new. The Devil himself has graced the idiot box multiple times, and I’m not just talking South Park. The Vortex Room collects some of his best work (and some of the best work themed around his ominous deeds) for “The Hades Channel,” a marathon screening of episodes of classic shows like Lost in Space, Night Gallery, and Starsky and Hutch — seems Satanic Panic was a ripe plot device back in the day. Can’t get enough Beelzebub? Following “The Hades Channel,” the Vortex unleashes six weeks of hellzapoppin’ double features (sourced from the trashiest depths of the 1960s-80s), “The Vortex Incarnate,” starting October 666. Er, sixth. (Cheryl Eddy)

6:66 p.m.-1:45 a.m., $6.66

Vortex Room

1082 Howard, SF

Facebook: The Vortex Room

 

TUESDAY 4

John Lithgow

With a career that includes a wide spectrum of artistic output, John Lithgow has proven himself to be a versatile and talented actor, author ,and much more. His film credits such as The World According To Garp (1982) and Harry and The Hendersons (1987), television roles on shows like 3rd Rock From The Sun, and his series of stage performances and children’s books have entertained and enlightened for nearly four decades. Catch Lithgow tonight in an intimate talk about his new book, Drama (HarperCollins), focusing on his life lessons and his craft. (McCourt)

7:30 p.m., $12–$44

Sundance Kabuki Theater

1881 Post, SF

(800) 838-3006

www.booksmith.com

 

TUESDAY 4

Dum Dum Girls

Only In Dreams, the sophomore album from leatherette rockers Dum Dum Girls is a flavor at first consistent with the bubble gum pop of last year’s I Will Be. Half the album mechanically swings between the theme of romantic obsession, from the person you can’t bear to be without (“Bedroom Eyes”) to the one who needs to go away (“Just A Creep”). But the saccharine sweetness fades in the second half (and real substance) of the album, as singer-songwriter Dee Dee turns somber, reflecting on a loss that’s not just the sort of seasonal regularity she’s used to, but something more permanent. (Prendiville)

With Crocodiles and Colleen Green 9 p.m., $17-19

Great American Music Hall

859 O’Farrell, SF

(415) 885-0750

www.gamh.com

 

The Guardian listings deadline is two weeks prior to our Wednesday publication date. To submit an item for consideration, please include the title of the event, a brief description of the event, date and time, venue name, street address (listing cross streets only isn’t sufficient), city, telephone number readers can call for more information, telephone number for media, and admission costs. Send information to Listings, the Guardian Building, 135 Mississippi St., SF, CA 94107; fax to (415) 487-2506; or e-mail (paste press release into e-mail body — no text attachments, please) to listings@sfbg.com. Digital photos may be submitted in jpeg format; the image must be at least 240 dpi and four inches by six inches in size. We regret we cannot accept listings over the phone.

Live Shots: Twin Shadow, Diamond Rings at the Great American Music Hall

Tony Robles
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If you truly believe that music is moving entirely forward – not cyclical – you need only to have peeked inside during any given moment of last night’s Diamond Rings/Twin Shadow live musical appearances at the Great American Music Hall. Your impressions would shift. New wave revival remains viable, those electro-soaked keyboard jams on stage, the half-shaved heads and feathered accessories in the crowd (including the feathery bits attached to the young miss thang who was removed quickly after Twin Shadow began thanks to an illegal sip of costly beer). It’s something I’ve grumbled about in the past, but for no good reason.

Twin Shadow could be described as both a Brooklyn quartet and, more accurately, as the stage name of George Lewis Jr. — who looked like Morris Day plus Bruno Mars with that skinny mustache, gold bib necklace, and fashion chapeau last night, but in my mind sounds more like a R&B-shot Morrissey. Midway through a fine synth-saturated, occasionally keyboard tinny set that included most tracks off Lewis Jr.’s danceable debut album Forget, the band broke into “Yellow Balloon,” a pulsating ode shot directly backwards into the not-so-distant musical past, with Lewis Jr. in full swoon mode.

That’s when I felt it: despite my bitter blathering, this nostalgic jolt of colorful energy feels damn good, especially compared to the fuzzed out, slow-moan apocalyptic nature of the music I’ve been vibing as of late; bring on Adam Ant warrior eye-makeup (as opener Diamond Rings sports in the video for his song “Something Else” — last night’s set closer) and Siouxsie and the Banshees bird’s nest hair fluff (as seen in the audience). If it keeps feeling this good, I too won’t soon Forget. Oh, the heart-felt sentiment and cutesy outro. That’s another thing I remember from the 80s.

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