Jazz

Hans-Joachim Roedelius celebrates his 77th birthday at Cafe Du Nord

Tony Robles
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“What a cerebral evening,” a show companion observed as we exited Cafe Du Nord last night, pushing the doors open to a whoosh of cool fall air. Indeed. For the man who’s seen it all, first as a child actor in 1930s Germany, then as a reluctant member of the Hitler Youth, and finally a pioneer of early experimental krautrock in the 1970s and ambient jazz, Hans-Joachim Roedelius (Cluster/Harmonia) was not the confrontational artist one might expect. Tall and bald with wire-rimmed glasses, he was erudite, pleasant, subdued.

He looked concentrated while constructing music, focused mainly on lilting keyboard and buzzing MOOG and an Allen & Heath ZED 14 mixer (note: I read the back of machines well), but between the pieces Roedelius smiled wide, nearly goofy. It was his 77th birthday, a rather special occasion. He kicked off the set with a startling sample of America’s national anthem, followed by a half-hour-long piece of ambient drone. He then told us he’d play Europe’s national anthem and out came a crackling Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 (“Ode to Joy”).

The crowd, mostly casual in black hoodies and  sportscoats, wished the living legend well, and sang him “Happy Birthday” (English version). Roedelius looked pleased, thanking us back repeatedly, tipping his handled glass of amber liquor. I guessed it spiced rum, just to keep it casual, another show companion thought perhaps brandy. Astute observations all around, companions.

An aside. These are the sounds I heard (or perhaps conjured) during the set of experimental openers, XAMBUCA:
1. Fat drops of metal tears.
2. Supposedly what it sounds like to have cochlear implants (according to a This American Life episode)
3. Fuzzy ham radio waves
4. A swarm of electronic birds
5. The knock-knock-knocking of a looming horror movie villain

 

*Note: excuse the red-soaked tone of the images. But really gives you a sense of the humming womb ambience, no?

Localized Appreesh: Debbie Neigher

Tony Robles
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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.

This week’s Localized Appreesh is the lush-vocal’d Debbie Neigher. She’s a stunning jazz-tinged singer-songwriter, who recorded her recently released self-titled LP with John Vanderslice at his Tiny Telephone Studios, along with the backing orchestral help of Minna Choi of the Magik*Magik Orchestra.

Neigher, a transplant from New Jersey, has the kind of effervescent voice that transcends time.  She’s youthful (just 24), yet her voice is strong and conveys a wise understanding of past, similar to Michelle Branch or Fiona Apple. Her lyrics often dive into difficult topics, particularly on dramatic tracks like “Cathedral.” And her intricate piano work on the album soars.

The talented songstress plays the Haunted Hoedown at Bottom of the Hill this Friday, Oct. 28. She’ll be premiering a new song, and will be backed by guest musicians on bass, lap steel, drums, violin, guitar, and sax.  The event includes costume contests, free treats, and a rather creepy concert poster.  Get spooky. 

Year and location of origin: I started performing my original songs when I was 15 back in my hometown in New Jersey in 2002.  I wasn’t even legally allowed in half of the bars I played!

Personal motto:  If you are lucky enough to figure out what truly moves you, it’s your responsibility as a human to stop at nothing to pursue it.

Description of sound in 10 words or less:  Intricate/lush piano, jazz vocals, and painfully honest lyrics.
Instrumentation:  I sing and play the piano and have an absurdly talented crew of drummers (Jason Slota, Ezra Lipp, Andrew Maguire) and bassists (Jamie Riotto, Jesse Cafiero) that I call on for live shows.  We usually have lap steel (Jesse Cafiero) and guitar (Phil Pristia) as well.

Most recent release: I just released my debut full-length record (self-titled) this past July.  I had the honor of working with John Vanderslice (Spoon, The Mountain Goats) as my producer and the Magik*Magik Orchestra (Death Cab for Cutie, The Dodos) on the project.
Best part about life as a Bay Area musician: The warm, welcoming, and collaborative nature of the music community here.  I’ve never met so many talented players with such humility – I’m grateful to know these people every day!

Worst part about life as a Bay Area musician: I work a full-time job and teach piano lessons on top of writing/performing music to afford the rent in our fair city!

First record/cassette tape/or CD ever purchased: Oh god I just asked my mom and her guess was a New Kids on the Block cassette.  In an attempt to redeem myself, I also distinctly remember having Nirvana’s Nevermind CD and Bush’s Sixteen Stone CD when I was little.

Most recent record/cassette tape/CD/or Mp3 purchased/borrowed from the Web: Local Natives “Gorilla Manor”
Favorite local eatery and dish:  Plantain black bean burrito at The Little Chihuahua.

Haunted Hoedown
With Debbie Neigher, Owl Paws, Rin Tin Tiger, and Please Do Not Fight
Fri/28, 8:30 p.m., $10

Bottom of the Hill

1233 17th St., SF
www.bottomofthehill.com

Our Weekly Picks: October 19-25

Andrew Lam
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0

THURSDAY 20

Gabrielle Hamilton

Gabrielle Hamilton is a chef, first and foremost. Food critics praise her homegrown 30-seat New York City restaurant Prune. The James Beard Foundation (think the foodie Emmys) named her the Big Apple’s top chef this year. She topped Bobby Flay in an Iron Chef showdown. But when she’s not roasting duck breast or braising lamb shank, Hamilton is writing about cuisine for the New York Times, Saveur, Bon Appétit, and Food & Wine. She draws the connections between family and food in her earnest and unsparing New York Times bestselling memoir, Blood Bones & Butter: The Inadvertent Education of a Reluctant Chef. Tonight, she appears in conversation with with fellow food writer Kim Severson at Herbst Theater. (Kevin Lee)

8 p.m., $17–$27

Herbst Theater

401 Van Ness, SF

(415) 392-4400

www.cityarts.net

 

John Doe

Continuously proving himself a multi-talented singer-songwriter-actor and jack-of-all-artistic-trades, John Doe has been hitting the stage for more than three decades now, from his time with punk icons X, the Flesheaters, and the Knitters, to his solo releases and collaborations with a wide variety of other artists. His latest effort, Keeper (Yep Roc 2011) is his eighth solo foray, and features both stellar tunesmithing and punctuating contributions from guests including Patty Griffin, Jill Sobule, Don Was, and Steven Berlin. (Sean McCourt)

With Dead Rock West

8 p.m., $20

Great American Music Hall

859 O’Farrell St., SF

(415) 885-0750

www.gamh.com


FRIDAY 21

Four Tet Kieran Hebden a.k.a. abstract eclecticist Four Tet played two shows in the Bay Area last year: one headlining at the Independent and another an afternoon set at the Treasure Island Music Festival. The difference was night and day, illustrating that not so surprisingly, Four Tet was most at home in a particular setting. Underlining this point is a recent entry for super club Fabric’s FabricLive series. Not simply a typical set, Four Tet’s mix is designed to replicate a night out, a heady mix of UK garage, that’s at once full of steadily driving breaks and hypnotic backing tracks, as much about getting lost in the music as a particular space. (Ryan Prendiville)

With Rub N Tug (Thomas Bullock DJ Set), Jus Wan, Shawn Reynaldo, DJ Dials, Chris Orr, Eug, Ryury

10 p.m., $15-20 presale

103 Harriet, SF

(415) 431-1200

www.1015.com


Kendrick Lamar

On stage at a concert in Los Angeles this past August, Snoop Dogg, Dr. Dre, and Game “passed the torch” to a teary-eyed Kendrick Lamar, officially pronouncing him the new King of the West Coast. Born and raised in Compton, the 24-year-old rapper has gained swift notoriety thanks to a series of popular mixtapes including the critically acclaimed Section.80. He cites Tupac as his greatest influence, but he sounds more like underground legends Souls Of Mischief or the Pharcyde. In November, Lamar will head east to embark on a brief tour with none other than Drake. Before he does, you can catch him headlining the New Parish on Friday. (Frances Capell)

9 p.m., $23–$35

New Parish

579 18th St., Oakl.

(510) 444-7474

www.thenewparish.com


DJ Shadow

Like everyone else, I got lost in the instrumental hip-hop collages found on Endtroducing (1996), the first album from DJ Shadow. That album literally introduced turntablism to people like me who imagined it was merely that scratching sound heard on Beck and Garbage. I can even remember my conservative father (this is saying a lot) being intrigued by Endtroducing. Since then though, the progenitor of vinyl sampling has moved on to other, unforeseen sonic experiments. On his first studio album in five years, The Less You Know, The Better, Shadow builds up everything from bluesy jazz to rock and heavy metal; an experiment that may alienate some, perhaps, but thrill Shadow’s most devoted. (James H. Miller)

9 p.m. $35–$38

Regency Ballroom

1290 Sutter, SF

(800) 745-3000

wwww.theregencyballroom.com


SATURDAY 22

Masquerotica What this town really needs right about now is a Masquerade Ball — it must have been at least two weeks since the last one! Oh, I jest. But seriously, what we never can have too many of are large-scale Halloween bashes, alternatives to the sleeping giant of the currently-banned Castro Street frenzy. Adding another AnonEvent to the year’s calendar ‘o’ fun, Masquerotica will be an all-you-can-eat buffet of sensory overload, with nine separate stages showcasing acts as diverse as punk jazz-circus rock ensemble the Mutaytor, Kinky Salon’s zombie strippers, Unkle Paul’s Dark Kabaret, Asian Diva Girls a’plenty, and Annie Sprinkle and Margo St. James holding court at the Hooker’s Ball Brothello. There will be music, masques, a food court, and some very sexy people. Maybe you too? Costumes required. (Nicole Gluckstern)

8 p.m., $45–$100

Concourse Exhibition Center

635 Eighth St., SF

www.masquerotica.com


SUNDAY 23

Cashore Marionettes

Perhaps the universal attractiveness of puppets comes from the fact that they look so alive when we know full well that they are just a bunch of rags and wires. Borrowing his title from the Shakers, who danced to transport themselves into ecstasy, Joseph Cashore named his latest show after their most famous hymn “Simple Gifts.” He has been making and performing with marionettes for more than 20 years and has grown a master of his craft. There is nothing “simple” about the sophistication of his artistry and sheer acts of love he showers on his audiences. If you go with a child, you’ll open a world; if you don’t have an easily-available kid, take a friend. You’ll both be transported back to the time when “pulling strings” meant bliss. (Rita Felciano)

11 a.m. And 3 p.m. $24.

Cal Performances, Wheeler Hall, Berk.

(510) 642-9988

www.calperformances.org

 

Mammatus

Named after that most awe-inspiring of all cloud formations, Mammatus is as epic sounding as its meteorological namesake is visually stunning. Hailing from the wooded and misty hills of Santa Cruz, the three-piece reaches spectacularly ripping heights with songs like “Excellent Swordfight,” “Dragon of the Deep,” and “The Coast Explodes” (among others) that bridge the gap between jam band technical wizardry and space rock headbangery. Speaking of wizards, Mammatus used to perform with one, and although he no longer shares the stage, the atmosphere remains one friendly to bearded magicians with pointy hats and a long pipe filled with something pungent. When Gandalf indulges in “Longbottom Leaf,” (nudge, nudge, wink, wink) he listens to Mammatus. (Cooper Berkmoyer)

With Swanifant and San Francisco Watercooler

9 p.m., $10

Cafe Du Nord

2170 Market, SF

(415) 861-5016

www.cafedunord.com

 

Anthrax

Anthrax might be a junior partner when it comes to the massive “Big Four” concerts recently held in L.A. and New York, but it’s a giant on every other bill. The NYC-based band stayed ahead of the curve back in the day by embracing hardcore and hip-hop, and this year it put its arena-filling colleagues to shame with Worship Music, an urgent, heavy album that stands in sharp contrast to dreck like Lulu or Death Magnetic. At the head of a potent tour that includes Bay Area heroes Testament and Death Angel, Gotham’s finest thrashers plan to demonstrate their undiminished ferocity. (Ben Richardson)

With Testament, Death Angel, and Chimaira 6 p.m., $35 Warfield 982 Market, SF (415) 345-0900 www.thewarfieldtheatre.com


MONDAY 24

1Q84 release party

It goes without saying that Green Apple Books loves the written word. Just the other day, I was browsing its stacks and saw a staff note by an Ambrose Bierce collection that read, “If you haven’t read Ambrose Bierce you must be very, very sad.” It seems Green Apple also loves Japanese novelist Haruki Murakami. So much so that it’s hosting a release party, complete with a taco truck camped out front, for the author’s new novel, 1Q84. If you pre-order a copy of 1Q84 before it becomes available at midnight, Green Apple hooks you up with a taco and a beer, and then enters your name into a raffle to receive a signed copy — free of charge. Which are reasons, in turn, to love Green Apple. (Miller)

9:30 p.m. Free

Green Apple Bookstore

506 Clement, SF

(415) 387-2272

www.greenapplebooks.com

 

“An Injury to One”

Travis Wilkerson’s An Injury to One is nearly 10 years old, but I haven’t seen another American documentary since that comes close to matching its fire. The film takes up the buried history of Frank Little, an organizer murdered for aiding the workers of the aptly named Anaconda Mining Corporation in their efforts to unionize. Wilkerson deploys a radical form of graphic rhetoric to engage with this incendiary content. He’ll have nothing to do with the polite distance maintained in mainstream documentary (just think of all those nonfictions of ostensibly radical solidarities that come packaged in a conservative style made to order for HBO and PBS). Anyone with even a passing interest in political cinema and American class warfare needs to see this film. (Max Goldberg)

6:30 p.m., $9–$11

New People Cinema

1746 Post, SF

(415) 525-8630

www.sffs.org


TUESDAY 25

Gold Panda

I paid $10 to see Gold Panda. Supposed to be $15, but the woman gave me a deal, since the show’d been on for a while. Couldn’t tell from the crowd. Aside from a few people in the front, everyone was still. Eyes closed, a few were touching themselves. (No, not like that.) Just rubbing their neck or arm, minds so inwardly withdrawn and focused on hearing that their bodies wanted attention. The song was from 2010’s Lucky Shiner (a mix for DJ-Kicks comes out this month), mostly an airy drone, overlaid with choked, tightly modulated samples. Totally warm. After about fifteen seconds, the set was done, and I’ve meant to catch the rest ever since.(Prendiville)

With Jonti, and Blackout Make Out

8 p.m., $15

Independent

628 Divisadero, SF

(415) 771-1421

www.theindependentsf.com


TUESDAY 25

Male Bonding

If you’ve heard Male Bonding’s Endless Now (Sub Pop), there’s a good chance it’s still stuck in your head. The noisy English trio swapped the lo-fi grunge of its debut Nothing Hurts for a sunny, slightly more polished pop-punk aesthetic on its second full length release. Despite its differences, a ’90s Seattle slacker rock influence remains clear throughout the short, infectious album. Endless Now boasts so much slurry, layered guitar, the band enlisted an additional member for tour. Put on a flannel and check ’em out. (Capell)

With WATERS and Lilac

8 p.m., $12

Rickshaw Stop

155 Fell, SF

(415) 861-2011

www.rickshawstop.com

 

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Get used: Your retro fix is waiting at the Alameda Point Vintage Fashion Faire

Andrew Lam
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That inevitable turn of the seasons is fast approaching. Perhaps you’ve already had one of those moments when, standing in front of your closet, you wonder where all your cable-knit cardigans and berets got too. But no worries – next weekend provides the best indoors opportunity to re-up on retro: the second Alameda Point Vintage Fashion Faire (Sat/22).

But why wait until the hectic fair itself to scope out your crisp weather wardrobe? Three large ballrooms of vintage fashion will be on view at the fair’s preview party the day before (Fri/21) – and if you go, your ticket includes re-admittance to Saturday’s faire. 

The sneak peek will allow you to purchase items early, drink signature cocktails (the event is only open to those of legal drinking age, sorry tykes), and enjoy the smooth live jazz of the Blue Bone Express. This being the Bay Area, there will even be a Halloween costume contest with prizes. 

Something for that treasure chest. Photo by Calibree Photography

With any luck, the fair’s venue is soaked in enough glam history that it’ll rub off on your fashion sense. The Albert H. Dewitt O’Club was built on the Alameda Naval Air Station in 1941, when America was entering World War II – a time during which Uncle Sam wasn’t too keen on luxuries. 

But the O’Club is glamorous – there’s massive front doors and a 40-foot-long canopy that shelters the walkway from the street to the front doors. John F. Kennedy once attended a gala at the club, and Lucille Ball, Henry Fonda, and Van Johnson filmed a scene on the base in the movie Yours, Mine and Ours (1968). 

All in all, the perfect setting for 50 booths of fabulous fashions from the Victorian eras all the way up to the 1980s. Attendees can support the troops at the event by bringing food, DVDs, CDs, toiletries, batteries and phone cards for donation to Operation Care and Comfort.  

 

Alameda Point Vintage Fashion Faire

Preview party: Fri/21 6 p.m.-9 p.m., $10, 

Fair: Sat/22 10 a.m.-5 p.m., $5 

Albert H. Dewitt O’Club

641 West Red Line, Alameda

(510) 522-7500

www.alamedapointantiquesfaire.com

 

Our Weekly Picks: October 12-18

Andrew Lam
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0

WEDNESDAY 12

EMA

“Fuck California. You made me boring,” South Dakota-born Erika M. Anderson declares defiantly on “California,” the breakout single from her cathartic, crushing first proper release, Past Life Martyred Saints (Souterrain Transmissions, 2011). I find that hard to believe. Not the bit about our fair state — living in LA made me about as interesting as an insurance seminar. But the notion that anything could make the person who created this album boring seems completely implausible. An emotional haymaker of an album, the only thing less tedious than the ex-Gowns singer’s lyrics — dealing with topics like self-mutilation, drug addiction, violence, and sex with stunning, often uncomfortable clarity and candor — is her exceptionally versatile musical palette. Anderson tosses touches of drone, punk, indie, folk, and noise rock into a sonic stew that veers as wildly as her moods. If this is what a boring EMA sounds like, I shutter to think what an engaged one could do. (Dan Alvarez)

With Sister Crayon and Alexis

8 p.m., $12 The Independent 628 Divisadero, SF

(415) 771-1421

www.theindependentsf.com


Mary Roach

There goes Oakland’s Mary Roach, delving into the scientific questions we all ponder (and some we’re not smart enough to think of). In the past, she’s brought readers on her fringe forays into sex, dead bodies, and the afterlife. Her latest book, Packing for Mars, explores the weird, the unsavory, and the absurdity found in astronaut space exploration and on-earth preparation. What are the health risks associated with cramped space shuttles without showers? What does dispelled urine look like in space? In Packing, named the 2011 selection for One City One Book: San Francisco Reads, Roach provides the answers in grisly and entertaining detail.(Kevin Lee)

7:30 p.m., free

Booksmith

1644 Haight, SF

(415) 863-8688

www.booksmith.com


THURSDAY 13

“Flight of Poets”

Does a pinot grigio complement Matthew Zapruder’s charismatic poems, or would a spicy zinfandel? How about Jane Hirshfield’s disciplined lines and forceful resolutions, do they call for a bold merlot? Wine steward Christopher Sawyer puts these questions to rest at “Flight of Poets,” LitQuake’s poetry reading and wine bash, curated by Tess Taylor and Hollie Hardy. Sawyer matches a wine with each of the evening’s poets, including Gabrielle Calvocoressi, Robert Polito, Rachel Richardson, and C. J. Sage in addition to Zapruder (Come On All You Ghosts, 2010) and Hirshfield (Come, Thief). In the words of Charles Baudelaire: “It is time to be drunk!” (James H. Miller)

7 p.m., $15

Hotel Rex

562 Sutter, SF

(415) 440-4177

www.litquake.org

 

Daniel Francis Doyle

When his band broke up in 2005, Austin, Texas’s Daniel Francis Doyle needed a quick fix for performing live. He began experimenting with guitars duct-taped to amps and quickly evolved into a noisy force to be reckoned with. The one-man music machine uses a loop pedal, drum kit, and headset microphone to make a ruckus that’s frenetic, exhausting, and surprisingly melodic. After developing a respectable body of solo work, he’s come full circle — writing and performing with a backing band as well. Catch him shredding solo and showcasing collaborative work in a single fun-filled evening at Club Paradiso. (Frances Capell)

With Clarissa, and Hazel’s Wart

8 p.m., $5

Club Paradiso

2272 Telegraph, Oakl.

(510) 735-9095

www.disolounge.com

 

“Doc”

Novelist Paul Auster called him “a ravaged, burnt-out writer who had run aground on the shoals of his own consciousness;” Norman Mailer said he wanted to be “dictator of the world.” At any rate, everyone who knew H.L. “Doc” Humes agreed that he was a genius. Co-founder of The Paris Review, and author of two lauded political novels, Doc was integral to New York’s literary and jazz scenes in the 1950s. However, in the 1960s, Doc plunged into madness and paranoia, started ranting about government conspiracies, and gave up writing altogether. Doc (2008) is the documentary directed by his daughter, Immy. With interviews with Auster, Mailer, Timothy Leary, and others, the film traces the life and times of this eccentric genius. (Miller)

7:30 p.m., $12

Oddball Film+Video

275 Capp, SF

(415) 558-8112

info@oddballfilm.com

 

Enslaved

Musical evolution can be risky. For every storied success, there’s a fan-alienating failure. Thankfully, Enslaved belongs in the former category. Though begun in 1991 as a traditional Norwegian black metal outfit, the Bergen-based band gradually began introducing textural flourishes, epic, narrative arrangements, and tasteful clean singing. Now they rank among the most fascinating, progressive-inflected extreme metal bands in the business. Headlining a full American run should show off the quintet at its enveloping best — who says songs about Vikings can’t be psychedelic? Haunting, costumed buzz band Ghost had to drop off the bill due to visa issues, but Enslaved’s copious talent should staunch all complaints. (Ben Richardson)

With Alcest, Junius, and the Swizard

7:30 p.m., $17

Slim’s

333 11th St., SF

(415) 255-0333

www.slims-sf.com


FRIDAY 14

Jeffrey Eugenides

It’s been nine long years since the publication of Jeffrey Eugenides’ ambitious, Pulitzer winning epic, Middle Sex (2002), and eighteen years since his stunning debut, The Virgin Suicides (1993), which makes the author’s new novel, The Marriage Plot, without a doubt one of the most anticipated of the decade (by those who have a good memory anyway). The Marriage Plot probes the lives of three Brown University seniors in the 1980s — Mitchell, Leonard, and Madeline — and the love triangle that emerges between them over the course of one year. At this free event at Books Inc., Eugenides (at long last) reads from his new novel. (Miller)

7 p.m., free

Books Inc. Opera Plaza

601 Van Ness, SF

(415)-776-1111

www.litquake.org

 

Frank Turner & the Sleeping Souls

It comes as no surprise that British folk-punk singer-songwriter Frank Turner is rapidly ascending as a cult hero here in the States. Though he often references geography, you don’t have to be from Winchester to identify with the punk poet’s themes of mortality, self-deprecation, and living life to the fullest. Prior to the release of his fourth album England Keep My Bones (Epitaph), Turner toured North America, completely selling out every date. Now the hardcore singer turned folk-troubadour returns to San Francisco with backing band the Sleeping Souls for a rowdy, beer-soaked night to remember. (Capell)

With Andrew Jackson Jihad and Into It. Over It.

8:30 p.m., $16

Slim’s

333 11th St., SF

(415) 255-0333

www.slims-sf.com


SATURDAY 15

“An Afternoon of Soccer Culture”

Soccer fans — football fans elsewhere in the world — might know Simon Kuper thanks to his Freakonomics-styled best-seller Soccernomics. In his latest, Soccer Men, the veteran sports journalist compiles the profiles he’s written over the past 15 years for papers like the Financial Times and the Times of London. Though the chapter titles are a superstar roll call (Messi, Rooney, Drogba, etc.), there’s no fawning here; instead, Kuper offers thoughtful, witty insights into what makes a particular player (or coach) valuable, distinctive, or well-liked (or hated) by the masses. He hits up local footy hotspot Edinburgh Castle to discuss “the beautiful game” with San Francisco author Alan Black (The Glorious World Cup). Only 970-something-ish days until Brazil 2014! (Cheryl Eddy)

3 p.m., free

Edinburgh Castle Pub

950 Geary, SF

(415) 885-4974

www.castlenews.com

 

“The Hula Show”

A sort of armchair travel, Na Lei Hulu I Ka Wekiu’s The Hula Show 2011 stops in India, Samoa, Turkey, Spain, and Wai’anae, blending traditional and contemporary forms of hula. The group brings the art back to California with a suite of chants called Hanohano Kapalakiko, which illustrate the bond between Hawaii and San Francisco. Following opening weekend of The Hula Show, performances on Oct. 22 and 23 feature guests from the Golden Gate Men’s Chorus. If you can’t make the trip to Hawaii this month, pick up a one-way ticket to The Hula Show, for a small taste of the culture. (Julie Potter)

8 p.m. also Sun/16, 4 p.m., $35–$45

Palace of Fine Arts Theater

3301 Lyon Street, SF

(415) 392-4400

www.naleihulu.org


SATURDAY 15

JFK of MSTRKRFT

Jesse F. Keeler, perhaps better known as JFK to fans of MSTRKRFT and Dim Mak Records, has not been neglecting his dance floor duties. Even while reuniting with Sebastien Grainger for the highly anticipated Death From Above 1979 reunion tour, JFK has been putting in time on the decks, frequently double slotted at festival dates. DFA 1979 is easily one of the biggest draws of this year’s Treasure Island Music Festival and JFK will follow the band’s sure to be frenzied dance-punk (emphasis on punk) performance on T.I. with a live DJ set back at Mezzanine, which will likely contain some extremely headbanging electro floor stompers. (Ryan Prendiville)

With Chain Gang of 1974, Sticky K, and DJ Morale

9:30 p.m. Doors, $20

Mezzanine

444 Jessie, SF

(415) 625-8880

www.mezzaninesf.com

 

Never Knows

A Korg-load of brainiacs are still making techno in this town (yay!). But how many of those brainiacs are merely getting in the way of their machines? “There’s something beautifully pure about techno. Too pure. That pristine, precise sound needs to be undermined, soiled and sullied. Electronic dance music usually relates a narrative that is predictably written. The only way I see out of this trap is to be more of a mediator between the machines as they each take turns telling their own side of the story: sometimes harmonious, sometimes revelatory, often conflicted.” That’s Marc Kate (a.k.a. Silence Fiction, a.k.a.Husband), one of SF’s more vital underground fixtures, whose latest, kind of spooky incarnation as Never Knows channels a tasty bank of live equipment as it folds old-school goth atmospheres into sweeping techscapes. Ensorcel much? Strap in for his debut at the essential, experimental monthly O.K. Hole party. (Marke B.)

With Water Borders and Total Accomplishment

9 p.m., $5

Amnesia

853 Valencia, SF.

(415) 970-0012

www.amnesiathebar.com

 

TUESDAY 18

Opeth

Iconoclastic. Idiosyncratic. Inimitable. Whichever “i”-adjective you prefer, Opeth has long occupied its very own metal subgenre, blending limber, tuneful death metal with progressive excursions and mournful clean singing. Despite melodic accomplishments, the music was often quite heavy, which is why Heritage, the band’s brand-new album, came as a surprise. Largely abandoning distorted guitars, Opeth perplexed critics and fans by releasing a full-fledged 70’s prog album, leaning heavily on organ parts and mastermind Mikael Âkerfeldt’s dulcet vocals. A national tour should help head-scratching headbangers embrace Opeth’s new direction, combining King Crimson-style epics with the band’s blast-beaten back catalogue. (Richardson)

With Katatonia

8 p.m., $27

The Warfield

982 Market, SF

(415) 345-0900

www.thewarfieldtheatre.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.

The Hangover: Oct. 7-9

Andrew Lam
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0

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) 

The Performant: Cinéma contradictoire

Andrew Lam
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2
The Performant: Cinéma contradictoire

While I spent a good deal of time out of doors last weekend taking in, among other things, an obligatory pilgrimage to Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, a jaunt on the historic schooner Alma with the WE Players, the 30-year anniversary of the Sea Chantey Sing, and Chicken John’s book release party, it was the introspective medium of the cinema that captured my attentions most of all. From the Star of Tyche at ATA, to The Umbrellas of Cherbourg at Lost Weekend’s “Offline In-Store” Film Festival, I devoured a sumptuous visual feast the satiating effects of which still linger days after.

The expertly-crafted, surrealistic films of Nara Denning have a decidedly ephemeral quality about them. Soaked in sepia tone and fantasia, they appear to be both of this world but adamantly not tied to it, flitting around the edges of stark reality like moths ready to plunge into a deadly yet strangely compelling fire. Her deeply-compelling yet minimal storylines tend to feature quixotic protagonists who have somehow lost their way, treading unworn paths through incongruous scenery, from jungle islands to funhouse rides to oceanic squalls, while trapped in the dubious limbo between waking and dreaming.

Scored by Stoo Odom, and featuring a slew of talented guest musicians, the films sound as good as they look-which is to say, exquisite. Over the weekend at ATA Denning presented five new films, each more haunting than the next, collected together on one DVD entitled Under the Pavement. 

The first film of the new series, The Pendulum Heart, starring Christine Bonansea and Christopher Comparini, is set in a tangled, wooded area where a masked Bonansea dances, struggling, against a backdrop of branches and darkness before encountering a hybrid tree-man (Comparini) with whom she makes a connection. The tormented and hilarious Dogmatique, starring Will Franken, opens with a Monty Python-esque sequence of feet walking in place on a treadmill of giant gears accompanied by an effervescent Allison Lovejoy composition: “Dog Rag”.

Surrounded with a city full of men who have turned into dogs (literally), Franken struggles to retain his humanity, a battle he is increasingly in danger of losing. Sentenced in court to “the bone mine,” forced into a ring to face off against a suited canine opponent (one “Peter Bones”), Franken eventually gives himself over to the soothing jazz of the full moon (sung by the Blue Fairy, Momo Cheeskos). 

Two nightmare-tinged vignettes Narcissus and The Nun (presented together as Still Life), starring Nirmala Nataraj and Emi Stanley respectively, plumb the depths of violence and regret shrouded in Denning’s characteristic sepia tones and billowing fabrics and featuring an especially mournful sax solo played by Willy the Mailman.

The last film of the evening, the Odyssey-inspired Star of Tyche, floats on an ocean of unease, as Julia Zeffiro steers her fragile craft on an increasingly treacherous voyage. Encountering goddesses (Margaret Belton), mercenaries (Wylie Huey), and spirits of the dead, Zeffiro never makes it to shore, exiled to endless navigation of the unsympathetic waters and other-worldly obstacles. An ending one suspects is occasionally entertained by Denning herself, but if the quality of this latest batch of films is an indicator, it is a fate she will handily avoid.

 

Appetite: Two tastings to watch for

Andrew Lam
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0

Two excellent yearly reasons to wet your whistle are coming to town this week. Whiskey and wine, anyone?

WhiskyFest

WhiskyFest happens tomorrow, a whisk(e)y university, extravaganza, and shit show rolled into one. Though the Marriott ballroom settings feel corporate, most of the world’s best distillers, brand ambassadors, and whisk(e)y experts are on hand with classes, offering pours and chatting with guests. I go every year to taste untasted whiskies, revisit favorites, and meet the world’s great whisk(e)y makers.

Fri/7 6:30 – 9:30 p.m., sold out

San Francisco Marriott Marquis

55 Fourth St., SF

www.maltadvocate.com

 

Wine and Spirits Top 100

Every year Wine and Spirits Magazine throws an annual large tasting honoring the 100 wineries that had the best showing in the publication. I’ve gone the last few years, finding it to be an event that’s more focused on sampling a honed list of wines from around the globe — including sparkling — than most tastings. There will also be bites from favorites like Dosa, Piccino, and Txoko, and historically there’s live jazz. I will miss the event being in the striking SF Design Center Galleria this year, but the City View space is dramatically engulfed by downtown high rises and should be memorable.

Wed/12 6:30 p.m., $105

City View at Metreon

101 Fourth St., SF

www.wineandspiritsmagazine.com/top100 

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Guerrilla jazz

Andrew Lam
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2
Guerrilla jazz

arts@sfbg.com

MUSIC When John Steven Morgan and John “Thatcher” Boomer III — who make up the John Brothers Piano Company — finished their last set at the 54th Annual Monterey Jazz Festival last month, my eyes weren’t watering alone. It wasn’t the barbecue smoke from the nearby food tents, or the too-bright afternoon fairgrounds sun. The John Brothers shake their listeners to the soul, because these piano-playing souls are shaking too. And MJF was their formal music venue debut.

Most other days, the John Brothers work together electrifying SF street corner audiences with skillful, joyous frenzies on one of their Craigslist-freebie upright Wurlitzer pianos. And they hope to soon bring their music to new cities. Over the course of the last year, they’ve compelled perhaps hundreds of local passersby to stop and watch. That’s gold for Morgan and Boomer, who say they want to give the listener the most visceral possible reaction. “I’d like to trigger a miscarriage,” Boomer deadpans.

The John Brothers put their own bodies into their art, hefting their piano to locations on a custom dolly, in and out of “the Contender,” a crumbling 1991 Jeep Cherokee. It’s not clear how much longer they’ll be hulking piano for a living. While their plan is to save up for a giant cargo van and tour around the U.S. just the two of them, by the end of the MJF they were in talks with a potential manager. “It’s just too much stress,” says Boomer of managing themselves, alluding to the CDs they forgot in Oakland on the trip to Monterey.

The CDs, which they sell out of a top hat, are filled with just one example of their repertoire. Morgan and Boomer’s original compositions are often mistaken for ragtime, but Morgan explains, “It’s not ragtime. Our influence comes mainly from the ’20s and the ’30s: Fats Waller, James B. Johnson, Art Tatum.” The two self-taught musicians have distinct styles, producing together a wild, organic, often playful mashup of classical, Morgan’s “gypsy stride,” Boomer’s blues, and a little jazz. Their ever-morphing reinterpretations oscillate from tender to eviscerating, raunchy to prim, mad to whimsical.

Local filmmaker Dan Reed of NextBooth.com, who accompanied the band to document their MJF appearance, met the John Brothers on the street, and asked immediately if he could use their music in his short films. “Other [musicians’] songs capture moments — their songs are full narratives,” he says. Reed used the John Brothers’ track “Computer Duster” as the soundtrack to his short Curious Chris, about an innocent man who gets bamboozled. The duo’s music both enlivens and takes new meaning from the film, as Morgan carries the listener from an expansive, melancholic opening, an unpopulated landscape with the delicate curiosity of a child, which blends into apprehension mixed with determination, building seamlessly to a swaggering, gypsy caravan staccato finale. Morgan says he’s eager to score future Reed films.

As the opening number for their first set at the jazz festival, Morgan, his broad shoulders bending over the keys, tore “Computer Duster” apart to create a novel Frankenstein of madness, thick shoulder-length hair swinging in his face, dissolving into chaos and in a moment resolving to the melody, the crowd simultaneously alienated and mesmerized; they were cheering by the end.

The John Brothers Piano Company perform regularly in San Francisco’s Union Square on Friday afternoons and evenings. 

THE JOHN BROTHERS PIANO COMPANY Fri/7, 5-8 p.m., free

Union Square, O’Farrell and Geary, SF

www.thejohnbrothers.com

 

New DVDs, old sleaze

Andrew Lam
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0
New DVDs, old sleaze

TRASH When it comes to home viewing, gratuitous violence is always a selling point for genre fans — the censorial gloves that handle most theatrical films are off, “unrated” becomes a plus rather than commercial suicide, “director’s cut” usually means more blood and maybe a little flesh previously removed at the MPAA’s behest. The flood of obscure old exploitation titles now being released to DVD and Blu-ray are duly advertised as high on mayhem, whether that’s actually the case or not. (One mid-70s Swedish sexploitation item just released is billed as a “violent cult classic,” though apart from a bit of fetish whipping there’s nary a violent moment in it.)

Sometimes one even wonders if the writers of back-cover copy even bothered to watch the film itself, a question that recalls the halcyon days of VHS when box descriptions of cheap back-catalog titles often seemed to be about other, perhaps imaginary films entirely.

Nonetheless, you don’t have to look too far to find retro schlock living up to its hype, reminding that in grindhouse days of yore big-screen movies could get away with considerably more crassness than they do now. One such cheerfully nasty oldie is Ruggero Deodato’s 1976 Italian Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man, invitingly labeled as “ULTRA VIOLENCE from the director of Cannibal Holocaust.”

That 1980 milestone in the annals of yecch was still years away when Deodato and scenarist cop-flick specialist Fernando Di Leo delivered this crazy exercise in vigilante justice with a badge. Ray Lovelock and Marc Porel do the Starsky and Hutch thing as a Roman “special squad” police duo who always get their man — though to the exasperation of their superiors, said man always meets an bloody “accidental” death in the process of apprehension. In fact it’s acknowledged that the pair has criminal instincts. They’ve only chosen this side of the law to wreak as much violent havoc for kicks as possible and get away with it.

Swiss Porel and Italian Lovelock were two of the most beautiful men — we’re talking Alain Delon level here — in movies then. Deodato lets them act not just like a flippant thrill-crazed comedy team nonchalantly distributing harm everywhere they go, but like a couple close-knit in other ways. We see that they share the same bedroom (if not bed); the few times they express sexual interest, it’s to “take turns” with a woman in each other’s company. Such interludes clearly do no more than kill time for our prankster-hero psychopaths between the greater visceral rewards of reckless motorcycle chases (reportedly shot without permits in the heart of Rome) plus blowing and shooting stuff up. They’re adorably lethal.

Speaking of vigilantism, few U.S. films ripped off the Death Wish (1974) formula — aside from Death Wish sequels, of course — with more lurid tactlessness than 1980’s The Exterminator, now out in a DVD/Blu-ray pack. Writer-director James Glickenhaus’ magnum opus has Robert Ginty as a Vietnam vet whose avenging of a comrade’s assault by Class of 1984-style “punks” snowballs into a general NYC cleanup campaign utilizing a flame thrower, machine gun, soldering iron, giant meat grinder, electric carving knife, and jazz great Stan Getz — well, he’s featured in a rare non-violent, wholly incongruous scene at a nightclub.

Lest we object to this unlawful justice, the perps pulverized include hoodlums who gut-punch old ladies and pimps who “serve young boys to perverts.” Tea Party logic is affirmed in an ending where FBI operatives, having slain our antihero (or so they think) on government orders because successful vigilantism makes public officials look bad at election time, smirk “Washington will be pleased.” Yeah, they’re all out to fuck ya! NRA 4-ever!

The Exterminator offered a cheap-thrills alternative to the original slasher wave. Gleefully surfing the latter’s blood tide is Alex Pucci’s Frat House Massacre, a belated DVD release that reprises the excesses of that era and then some.

With nary a dull (or tasteful) moment in its 116-minute director’s cut, this 2008 campus flashback has it all: psycho fraternity president, deliberately fatal hazings, rampant cocaine abuse, nasty sex and nastier sexism, boobs, a surprising surplus of well-toned male nudity, ludicrously gory murders, a disco production number, brutal towel-snapping, music by one of the Goblin guys (of 1977’s Suspiria fame), zero narrative continuity, and lines like “Studying always gets me horny.” Frat House Massacre would be a guilty pleasure if it weren’t clearly in on its own joke. 

Our Weekly Picks: September 21-27

Andrew Lam
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0

WEDNESDAY 21

Veronica Falls CANCELLED

Apparently, this UK indie rock band found its relaxed retro pop sound right from the get-go. Singles “Found Love in a Graveyard” and “Beachy Head” combined jangly, propulsive rhythms with light, morbid lyrics for a result that could easily find an anachronistic home in the recent remake of Brighton Rock (and not just because every video for the band looks like it was ran through a Hipstamatic app.) Now with a self-titled debut album on Slumberland Records, Veronica Falls is scheduled to tour in support of the Drums and Dum Dum Girls next month. This will be their West Coast record release show. (Ryan Prendiville)

With The Mantles, Brilliant Colors

9 p.m., $13

Brick and Mortar Music Hall

1710 Mission, SF

(415) 800-8782

www.brickandmortarmusic.com

 

THURSDAY 22

Teengirl Fantasy at Icee Hot

They put something in the water over at Oberlin. Beach House, Blondes, Teengirl Fantasy. Now at work in the real world, which includes opening for Crystal Castles, Teengirl Fantasy has found a style that’s just as likely to draw from the pop charts as it is from their academic pedigree. A little Lil Jon on one track, a little Raymond Scott on the next. With cooled, slo-mo beats and hyped up MCs turned down, the result is an aural muscle relaxant, allowing you to focus on making bedroom eyes across the dance floor. Teengirl Fantasy comes our way to play monthly party Icee Hot. (Prendiville)

With Total Freedom, Magic Touch (Damon Palermo), Shawn Reynaldo, and Rollie Fingers

10 p.m., $5-10

Public Works

161 Erie, SF

(415) 932-0955

www.publicsf.com

 

FRIDAY 23

Smuin Ballet

The late Michael Smuin was not one of my favorite choreographers. But he left behind a substantial inheritance that had gained him respectable audiences. Smuin choreographed one his most serious pieces, “Stabat Mater” — Dvorak’s response to the death of his infant daughter — in the aftermath of 9/11. He also loved to play with pop eroticism; “The Eternal Idol” — you can see its inspiration at the Legion of Honor — and “Tango Palace” showcase that propensity. Amy Seiwert premieres what she calls her “most “Smuinesque” piece yet — to Patsy Cline. Not the least of the company’s attractions these days is the quality of its dancers. Parking around the Palace — because of the Doyle Drive reconstruction — is somewhat restricted, so plan for extra time. Muni 43 goes there as well. (Rita Felciano)

9/23-Oct.1

$25-62

Palace of Fine Arts, San Francisco

(415) 556-5000

www.smuinballet.org

 

FRIDAY 23

“Hong Kong Cinema”

Though this is the San Francisco Film Society’s first-ever Hong Kong Cinema mini-fest, there’s no shortage of HK film fanatics in this town, what with the SF International Asian American Film Festival, the programming at Frank Lee’s Four Star Theatre, and even the occasional HK flick that arrives via Hollywood. If you dug Benny Chan’s now-at-the-Four-Star Shaolin, you won’t want to miss his City Under Siege, about bank-robbing, superpowered circus performers. Also on tap: another superhero action comedy, Vincent Kok’s (Pixar-inspired?) Mr. and Mrs. Incredible; Clement Chan and Yan Yan Mak’s multigenerational drama Merry-Go-Round; All About Love, from Ann Hui (her latest, A Simple Life, has been tearing up the international fest circuit); Law Wing-cheong’s kidnap thriller Punished (starring Anthony Wong, always full of win); Alex Law’s coming-of-age drama Echoes of the Rainbow; and rom-com Don’t Go Breaking My Heart, a genre departure for action man Johnnie To. (Cheryl Eddy)

Through Sun/25, $13–$20

San Francisco Film Society New People Cinema

1746 Post, SF

www.sffs.org


FRIDAY 23

SF Cocktail Week: Barbary Coast Bazaar

San Franciscans have long enjoyed a romance with alcohol — from the debauchery of the Barbary Coast era, to the modern renaissance of the artisan cocktail, the city knows how to knock ’em back. Celebrate this high-proof history with SF Cocktail Week, which features a variety of tastings, dinners, seminars, and parties, including “Barbary Coast Bazaar,” a huge fete inside the Old Mint. Expect a roaring 1920s themed party, with vintage circus acts such as stilt walkers, jugglers, contortionists, magicians, and carnival games, along with food, and of course, a wide variety of tasty cocktails. (Sean McCourt)

SF Cocktail Week events run through 9/25, pricing varies

Barbary Coast Bazaar, 9/23

8-11 p.m., $85–$95

The Old Mint

88 5th St., SF

www.sfcocktailweek.com


SATURDAY 24

Moving Planet Worldwide Rally Day

You can make yourself sick thinking about it: what are you going to tell your kids (or — hey sexy single! — the neighbor’s kids) when they ask you what you did to stop climate change back when we still had a chance and the Bayview-Sunset commute didn’t call for a rowboat? Are we creeping you out? Then let us recommend Moving Planet Day. A worldwide rally for sustainability, it’s sponsored by 350.org and will include Sept. 24 actions from Buenos Aires to Nairobi. In SF, a march of self-propelled peoples on foot, bike, and skate will trek from Justin Herman Plaza to the Civic Center, where an afternoon of speakers, music, and other events awaits. (Caitlin Donohue)

10-a.m.-6 p.m., free

March starts at Justin Herman Plaza, SF

Afternoon activities at Civic Center Plaza, SF

www.moving-planet.org


Hank 3

The grandson of country music royalty, Hank Williams III, or as he’s now known, Hank 3, continues to hone his own brand of diverse music, releasing not one, but four brand new albums this month: Ghost to a Ghost/Guttertown, a double record in a country vein, Attention Deficient Domination, with more of a “hellbilly” feeling, and Cattle Callin, which is more on the metal side of things. The modern torch bearer of outlaw country is promising that this tour will touch on all of them, which he released through his own label, Hank 3 Records, and that fans can expect a two-and-a-half to thee-hour set at each barn burning show. (McCourt)

8:30 p.m., $26

The Regency Ballroom

1290 Sutter, SF

www.theregencyballroom.com


SATURDAY 24

Celsius 7

The superchill but often splendidly goofy Bay rapper, a former member of the Psychokinetics crew, hails from one of the golden ages of local hip-hop — that late ’90s-early ’00s period when earnest showmanship and a healthy dose of good humor trumped aggro attention-seeking, niche genre overload, and crass product placement. Cel’s kept himself busy through Bay rap’s recent twists and turns, though, traveling the world and dropping some ace tracks, all the while staying true to his roots. This release party for his poppin’ second solo album, Life Well Spent (which features a nice roster of collaborators including Dirt Nasty, iLL MEDiA, and Baby Jaymes) will showcase his grin-inducing verbal dexterity, be loaded with special guest appearances, and serve as a convention of true school heads. (Marke B.)

9 p.m., $10 (includes copy of album)

Shattuck Downlow

2284 Shattuck, Berk.

(415) 455-4735

www.shattuckdownlow.com


SUNDAY 25

Chinatown Music Festival

The Yerba Buena Center for the Arts has an exhibit going on called “Daily Lives,” a group showing by local Asian American artists that takes prosaic trinkets and uses them to express the psychic winds that ruffle our insides. This weekend, “Daily Lives” is taking this exploration of the private, public. Put on your dark glasses and check out the sidewalk art exhibit in Chinatown — where your ambling will be soundtracked by a day of rad live music; traditional tunes from the SF Guzheng Society and pianist Jon Jang (who will be sharing his recently-penned homage to the Xinhai Revolution of 1911), plus more modern grooves by the grown-up local kids in Jest Jammin’ and the SF Latin Jazz Youth Ensemble. (Donohue)

1-7 p.m., free

Portsmouth Square Kearny between Clay and Washington, SF

www.apiculturalcenter.org


SUNDAY 25

Ladytron

Given the harder direction that Ladytron has gone in over the last few albums — even touring with Nine Inch Nails — I was not expecting what I heard on Gravity the Seducer: ABBA. Whether or not they were invoking the Swedish gods of pop on purpose, the opener “White Elephant” sets a tone for a lighter album. Not simply a step backwards to the sounds of Ladytron’s early albums, it’s its most synthetically dreamy, spaced out record yet. Of course, harder and softer are relative terms with the band, which has generally stuck to a distinctive sound, becoming electronic pop mainstays and developing a cult following in the process. (Prendiville)

With SONOIO, Polaris at Noon, and DJ Omar

8 p.m., $25

The Regency Ballroom

1300 Van Ness, SF

(800) 745-3000

www.theregencyballroom.com

 

MONDAY 26

Dr Ruth

We all fondly recall Dr. Ruth Westheimer as the funny, entertaining, and educational “sexpert” that hit the mainstream media in the 1980s and 90s, but did you know her amazing background before she was a household name? Born in 1928 in Germany, she lost her parents in the Holocaust, and actually fought (and was wounded) as a sniper during Israel’s war of independence. The icon will be touching on all these subjects, along with her new book, Heavenly Sex: Sexuality in the Jewish Tradition, at tonight’s special event. (McCourt)

7 p.m., $20–$35

Jewish Community Center of San Francisco

3200 California St., SF

(415) 292-1200

www.jccsf.org


TUESDAY 27

Tony Bennett Night

As San Francisco Giants fans know, whenever the team wins a game here at home, the crowd exits the ballpark to the sounds of the legendary crooner Tony Bennett’s signature song “I Left My Heart In San Francisco.” The 85-year-old icon performed the song live at last year’s World Series, and the team is honoring him with this special event where he will be celebrated in a pre-game ceremony. He also will perform a short set, and fans will receive a “Tony Bennett” bobblehead that has a sound chip that plays his beloved ode to our city by the bay. (McCourt)

Game starts at 7:15 p.m.; arrive early for pre-game events. Pricing varies; see website for current availability.

AT&T Park

24 Willie Mays Plaza, SF

(415) 972-2000

www.sfgiants.com/specialevents


TUESDAY 27

Nurses

If you listened to Nurses’ earliest album, you might not recognize the groovy melodic rock trio that stands before you today, presenting 2011’s Dracula (Dead Oceans). In the past five years, the harmonic freak-folk band — with a penchant for toy instruments and pianos — has gone through lineup changes, sound modifications, and location shifts. The two Nurses mainstays, singer-guitarist Aaron Chapman and singer-keyboardist John Bowers, have lived in the sweet sunshine of San Diego, close quarters during cold winters — the tour van in Chicago — and finally, settled in the dewy DIY spirit of Portland, Oreg., where they gained drummer James Mitchell, and further developed their technique. But that’s the test of a true musician, isn’t it? The ability to roll with the punches, to grow, to evolve. (Emily Savage)

With Dominant Legs

9 p.m., $12

Cafe Du Nord

2170 Market, SF

(415) 861-5016

www.cafedunord.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.

Earth mover

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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1
Earth mover

arts@sfbg.com

MUSIC I didn’t mean to bring the earthquake to Eleanor Friedberger’s Brooklyn — it just felt that way when I rang a few weeks ago, minutes after her ‘hood shivered and shook like it was attempting a weak imitation of, well, San Francisco. “Actually it sounded like someone was stomping on my roof,” she says wryly, phasing in and out over the line as if spirited away by unexplained forces.

A coincidence, too, that she closes her first, wonderful solo long-player, Last Summer (Merge), with a number titled “Early Earthquake,” a minimalist love song that evokes early solo Lou Reed and spins from those ground-bending emotions that hit far too soon, far too hard. “It was an early earthquake and my heart’s trembling just for you / And when the walls came crumbling down / You know I was waiting right here for you,” she sings with her charmingly verbose hipster-priest phrasing, in a feather-light voice.

“Early Earthquake” ends with a sliver of exotica culled from an optigan. “It’s almost like a toy for adults,” Friedberger says of the ’70s-era instrument. Her brother, Matthew, used one on a song for their band, the Fiery Furnaces, and, she adds, “I said if I ever found one I’d buy it.” That she did, from “an expensive music store in Brooklyn — not very cool,” she murmurs.

That brand of disarming, hyper-self-aware honesty — dotted with a dry, playful sense of irony — runs like a startling thread throughout Friedberger’s conversation, making me wanna be instant BFFs. I can see us now: telling the truth about birthdays (“Always bleak,” Friedberger declares of her Sept. 2 birthday, though she’ll be in the Bay Area that week, so bring her a gift), laughing that she’d make the perfect Patti Smith in the film version of Just Kids, scaring ourselves with the spooky effects in “Inn of the Seventh Ray,” pondering the puzzle of Google-ing dates in “Scenes from Bensonhurst,” and cruising through the borough with the rubbery-bass-bumping “Roosevelt Island” blaring. The latter is the closest thing to a genuine summer song on Last Summer; Friedberger agrees — it’s built to be pouring out of “a Buick, definitely an American car, if there are any of those left,” she says.

Last Summer is the solo record she’s always wanted to make — and when she had the time and summoned the confidence that comes with age and experience, she did, writing the songs last summer and recording them that fall, in Brooklyn. “I felt it was now or never. I always thought I’d regret if I didn’t do something myself,” Friedberger says. “There was no lightning bolt of inspiration—I don’t believe in that.

And in contrast to all those who refuse to ‘fess up to the autobiographical nature of their work, Friedberger offers, “All of it is drawn from my personal life — no imagination used. I’m trying to decide if it’s lazy or brave, I don’t know.”

In the same spirit of full disclosure, she opens the album with an infectious ditty called “My Mistakes,” climaxing with a gloriously cheesy tenor sax solo. “I was trying to copy a Van Morrison-sounding saxophone solo,” she freely admits, though it was a fight trying to get sax player Dylan Heaney to agree. “He has a jazz school background and wanted to do something new or original. I don’t believe in that, though — I’m all for copying.”

Yet Friedberger, whether solo or with the Fiery Furnaces, still manages to have one of the most original voices of her generation. Perhaps it stems from the creative support of a sib. “We have this musical language that I just don’t have with anybody else,” she says of Matthew. “But at the same time, we constantly feel like we need an excuse to do something together — because we’re not a normal band. There has to be an elaborate thought process that justifies it.”

“That’s getting tiring. So it’s liberating to make something that’s small and personal. For me, it’s more about expressing my tiny pathetic feelings.” Slight pause. “I’m kidding.”

ELEANOR FRIEDBERGER

With the Kills and Mini Mansions

Fri/9, 8:30 p.m., $29.50

Fox Theater

1807 Telegraph, Oakl.

(510) 302-2277

www.apeconcerts.com

 

Ativanitude

Andrew Lam
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0
Ativanitude

le.chicken.farmer@gmail.com

CHEAP EATS Some people wanted closure, so we went around the circle and each said what we got out of our 10 days of writerly camaraderie, intense productivity, and snorkeling. OK, chicken farmer, here’s where you thank the people who brought you here and lick the asses of all the new, important writerly friends you’ve made, I thought. Which should have been easy, because I did love my new friends and got a shitload of good work done in Mexico; but exhaustion and head problems got the better of me, and by the time my turn came the circle was already aslosh with gratitude, spinning its wheels in good vibes and wonderfulness. I was suffocating. I was drowning. I was dizzy. And it was my turn to say what I got out of it.

“An ear infection!” I said.

If I’d have stopped there it would have been funny, but I’d been out of my stomach for four days and couldn’t stop bitching and whining: My head felt like it was going to explode every time I nodded, the smell of toast made me want to puke, and if I bent down to scratch a mosquito bite I would pass out, I was so dizzy. How the hell was I supposed to get in the van that was taking us all to the airport next morning, let alone fly in an airplane at 39,000 feet with entirely clogged ears? Did anyone have any decongestants?

Heads shook in sympathy. People promised to check their pill collections before going to bed.

“The food was really really good,” I added.

Then it wasn’t my turn to speak anymore, and the circle continued to gush toward closure. Hard to say how many enemies I’d made, but — since everything else in the world is hard to say too –hey, who’s counting?

At the airport, I wasn’t the only one having a nervous breakdown. Irene was scheduled to land in New York at the same time some of us were. The East Coast was closed. Flights to other places were full.

And, worse, the Starbucks where we awaited our fates was playing squirrely jazz.
I set up a little Ativan dispensary at our table. See, here’s where being a complete spaz comes in handy: I’d been tracking the hurricane for half a week, and had already changed my return trip from JFK to Pittsburgh. So alls I had to worry about was my head exploding before reaching cruising altitude.

It didn’t!

Hedgehog was waiting for me at the bottom of the escalator by baggage claim, big smile. She’d left her
stupid movie one day early, drove to Pittsburgh, and got us a nice hotel room near the airport and even nearer to one of the satellite Primanti Bros. To which she immediately whisked me for a pastrami and French fry sandwich and a romaine salad, also with French fries. As if I weren’t loopy enough already.

“Not as good as Giordano’s,” I declared, “but better than the original Primanti.”

The fizzy water did not have French fries in it.

Hedgehog set a half-full bottle of West Indies Creole habanero sauce on the table between us. “I didn’t know what you’re supposed to take with you in an evacuation,” she said, “but I grabbed this.”

“I like your style,” I said, putting it mildly while pouring my favorite hot sauce all over everything.

“You did the right thing.”

She liked my ativanitude, she said.

And we went to our hotel room, made category 4 love,
and in the morning drove back to New York where we had dinner plans and US Open tickets. After this we head back west, finally, stopping only for nephewish weddings, state fairs and I guess gas and shit.

We might go to a Steelers game.

Meanwhile, in time for football season, Giordano’s has opened a restaurant in the Mission, without me.

It’s where Ti Couz used to be, on 16th Street at Valencia, and rumor has it they have pieroghis.

So my question to you, Mr. Earl Butter, is why the hell are you still eating at Valencia Pizza & Pasta?

The Fillmore’s facelift: Independent Artists Week fills the street

Andrew Lam
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1

Bayview native Meaghan Mitchell first started working in the neighborhood as a hostess at 1300 on Fillmore. Not anymore – now she co-owns a pop-up neighborhood art gallery across the street from the restaurant and is organizing an entire week of events geared towards filling the historic neighborhood’s streets again (Independent Artists Week, now through Sun/11).

The Fillmore’s the kind of neighborhood that inspires creative growth, famous for its days as a cultural hub where African Americans celebrated the arts, succeeded in the business arena, and solidified community. This week’s lineup of IAW events hopes to highlight that legacy, with speed networking for creative types, free art walks, and more. 

Because right now, the area definitely needs some shine.

“We’re struggling with the identity of the Fillmore right now,” says Mitchell, who sits in her small gallery space surrounded by paintings and sculptures done by local artists during her interview with the Guardian. Sisters Melorra and Melonie Green co-own the space, and Mitchell gives us a tour of the neighborhood art the three have filled their gallery with, from elaborate metal wall sculptures to small drawings by local grade-schoolers. The Greens are the other two lead organizers of Independent Artists Week. 

Mitchell gestures to the towering condo and apartment buildings visible through the gallery’s front windows. “Look at all those apartment buildings. Where do those people go?”

Despite its history of locally-owned businesses, Fillmore is far from bustling during the daytime, when the street’s renowned jazz clubs are closed. There’s a handful of black-owned businesses (including New Chicago Barbershop, which we profiled earlier this summer) that are still standing, but you see a lot of empty storefronts when you walk down the sidewalk. 

Mitchell and her partners would like to reverse that trend. “There’s so much potential for African American people to take back our neighborhood,” she says. “Facilitating our own events is a part of that.”

She should know – she learned from an event-planner extraordinaire. Mitchell says she owes her organizing skills to Ave Montague, the woman who was in charge of public relations at 1300 when Mitchell was first hired on. 

“She made this neighborhood poppin’,” remembers Mitchell. Montague organized the Black Film Festival, and took Mitchell under her wing, training her to help coordinate a slew of other events that were important to the Fillmore community – and the country. Montague passed away shortly after she threw the official West Coast inauguration party for Barack Obama in 2008. 

“When she died, this neighborhood was in a different place,” says Mitchell. “It was grey.”

There was some question about who would take up Montague’s crusade to make Fillmore Street a vibrant center of black Bay Area culture once again. But not for long – soon Mitchell and the other neighborhood business-owners and advocates from the Fillmore Community Benefit District were back in talks with the Mayor’s Office, which is now once again subsidizing their event-planning efforts. 

Of course, Mitchell says, there are challenges to this kind of city government-funded community organizing in a neighborhood that was gutted by “redevelopment” campaigns in the past. Long-time residents are less than thrilled to put the future of the neighborhood in the hands of organizations responsible for driving out black families in the first place. She’s attended CBD meetings that ended in shouting and finger-pointing over who did and didn’t deserve a piece of the $800,000 the Mayor’s Office had contributed to their work. 

“You’ve got to check in with folks.” Mitchell says that even though she is a San Francisco native, she’s still a newcomer to the Fillmore scene – and that a big part of her work is involving the long-time movers and shakers in the area. She now holds monthly merchant meetings that started out with three and now generally attract 11 participants. 

But it’s worth it to become a part of a neighborhood this unique. “[Working in] the Fillmore, it was the first time I worked in a place where I really felt appreciated,” she says. “I met all these prestigious African American people who helped me and who I could look up to.” 

Hopefully this week’s events will provide similar opportunities for other up-and-comers – check out the schedule below to see what’s on offer for artists, art lovers, wannabe yogis, and anyone who is into the idea of a new, brighter Fillmore. 

Photo above right: Mitchell has joined Fillmore’s entrepreneurs with a gallery space of her own on the strip. Photo by Caitlin Donohue

 

“Opportunity Knocks” speed-networking event

Local music scenesters, public relations experts, and other sources of knowledge on making a living off of art in the Bay Area will be available to chat with artists on those topics and more. 

Tues/6 7-9 p.m., $15. Yoshi’s, 1330 Fillmore, SF. 


Sustainable fashion fair-clothing swap

Trade in your clothes for other people’s hand-me-downs – style on a budget (and with a low carbon profile, hell yeah). 

Wed/7 7-10 p.m. African American Cultural Arts Center, 762 Fulton, SF. 


Thank You Awards

Honorees will include filmmaker Kevin Epps, Sup. Ross Mirkarimi, and other supporters of the local arts community. 

Thu/8 7-9 p.m., $15. African American Cultural Arts Center. 


Fillmore Art Walk

Art in the streets! Tour the neighborhood’s galleries and businesses (including Mitchell’s space at 

Fri/9 6 p.m.-midnight, free. Fillmore between Post and McAllister, SF. 


Healing arts demonstration

The perfect, low-commitment intro to tai chi, yoga, acupuncture, meditation, and more. Swing through to ask about body and soul woes with experienced practitioners in the sunshine. 

Sat/10 9 a.m.-1 p.m., free. Fillmore Center Plaza, Fillmore and O’Farrell, SF. 


Western Addition Sunday Streets

A huge swath of Fillmore, Divisadero, and the Panhandle will be blessed with a free roller disco, break dancing lessons, free bike repair and rental, and of course lots of car-free asphalt for walking, biking, boarding, and blading community members. 

Sun/11 11 a.m.-4 p.m., free. Various streets in Western Addition, SF. www.sundaystreetssf.com

 

 

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