Live Shots

This weekend will be filled with relationship drama — and you’re going to love it

Andrew Lam
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The push and pull of relationships is a great basis for a dance piece. Not only are relationships intimate, beautiful, and at times frustrating, but they also create magnetic moments, and sometimes pain. This weekend, two dance companies, Detour Dance and the Caitlin Elliott Dance Collective, have collaborated (see? Relationships) to present Along the Way, a production that includes all the basics: love, lust, plain old allure. I stopped by the final rehearsal to check out the romance and have come to the conclusion that it’s ready to seduce all comers. 

Along the Way

Fri/24-Sun/26 8pm, $30-20 general admission, $15 artist or student admission

Dance Mission Theater

3316 24th St., SF

(415) 826-4441

www.dancemission.com

 

Live Shots: Braid at Slim’s

Tony Robles
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0

Bromance was in the air Sunday night as Braid took the stage at Slim’s. The on-again, off-again band recently reunited after a seven-year hiatus just in time to play its 600th show, and the members seemed genuinely grateful for the opportunity. On the final stop of their West Coast tour, these Illinois post-hardcore trailblazers thanked their fans by playing through their beloved and influential 1998 album Frame & Canvas in its entirety.

Awash in a sea of stripes and plaid, each step in the transformation between the emo kid of yesteryear to the hipster of today was visually represented in the crowd, from checkered Vans and studded belts to highwaters and Sperrys. Slim-fitted band tees were rampant, most touting obscure bands from the early Aughts. Aside from skinny jeans and thick-rimmed glasses, the only clear unifier of the group was an air of excitement and an incredible familiarity with the slurred lyrics of Braid’s back catalog.

The overwhelmingly-male audience showed their appreciation not by singing every word back to the band as expected, but by animatedly singing them to each other. I felt as if I had stepped out of a rock concert and into a boys’ club on Nostalgia Night.

Frame & Canvas, a masterpiece of early emo, was transformed by the audience from a diatribe of love lost and anguished youth into a shout-along tribute to the glory days. What the band lacked in bravado and the audience lacked in numbers was made up for in full by earnestness, wide smiles, and an overpowering sense of camaraderie.

Mosh pits turned into group hugs, and group hugs turned into a giant circle of fans with arms draped around each other’s shoulders. The heartwarming spectacle caused singer Bob Nanna to pause and declare, “This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen” before jumping offstage and into the circle, where he took his time hugging audience members before jumping back onstage to finish side two of Frame & Canvas.

The feelgood mood of the night endured through Braid’s entire set without falter. Even when guitarist Chris Broach was extremely unsuccessful in his attempt to crowdsurf, his failure seemed not pathetic, but endearing. If Braid hadn’t stolen our hearts already, Broach certainly sealed the deal when he later declared with a smile, “you guys kicked LA’s ass!”

Good evening, good eating: Shots from the Street Food Festival Night Market

Andrew Lam
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Photos by Bowerbird Photography

It wasn’t too long ago that shopping locally meant hitting up your neighborhood Safeway. But seemingly overnight (in retrospect), farmers markets sprung up like healthy tomato plants. A weekend doesn’t go by during which I don’t see someone toting their re-usable canvas bag down the street to fill up with fresh produce from local growers.

This is just one sign of a big revolution that is happening in the food world. Having visited night markets across the globe, from Taiwan to Morocco, I’ve always wondered when the States would figure out their own version of these late-night-snack shindigs. Lo and behold, this weekend night markets hit our soil. The Street Food Festival hosted its first night market to eager eaters on Friday the 17th at the Alemany Farmers’ Market. The happily matched location housed live music, dancers, hot toddies (a useful weapon for battling the chilly evening fog) and of course, delicious street food. Night markets often highlight grilled meats and one-bite-wonders for foodies who want a little taste of it all. This night was no different, with a food-filled dream of delicious dumplings, tiny tacos, and pork sandwiches sprinkled with chicharones. The greasier, the better, thank you very much!

 

Live Shots: KISS and Mötley Crüe at Sleep Train Pavilion

Tony Robles
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2

By Dillon Donovan

Reunited after having first toured together 30 years ago, KISS and Mötley Crüe having joined forces once again unleashing their mighty sound last night at the Sleep Train Pavillion.

If Mötley Crüe was indeed intended to be the opening act it was hard to tell; its set length was just two songs longer than KISS and witnessed by a much more frenzied audience being pushed to the limit thanks to the druid-style carnival theme the band has been working with for ages now.


The night opened up with a fire-breathing explosive rendition of “Saints of Los Angeles” from Crüe’s latest record, and even though the band is aging these days it was difficult to tell amongst the fire, lights, smoke, back-up dancers, and roller-coaster drum set of Tommy Lee.

Lee and his kit have always been such an essential attribute to the bands explosive sound and theatrics, which was plain to see when he launched into a two-part drum solo while spinning 360 degrees over head, even allowing an audience member to join him on his roller-coaster thanks to an extra vacant seat. Even though one new song “SEX” was unveiled live, Crüe mostly stayed true to its classic hits during the 70-minute set, signing off with an unrivaled version of one its biggest hits, “Kickstart my Heart.”

Only half of the original lineup of KISS was represented but they arrived in the full regalia, makeup, platform shoes, blood dripping everywhere, and an all-around cartoonish appearance rivaled by few bands today. I’ve never seen such a dedicated and allegiant fan base, some dressed just a well as the band on stage. 

Sure, there might be other bands I prefer musically, but the showmanship of KISS is unrivaled, Paul Stanley flying over the crowd, Gene Simmons spitting blood, rising platforms, ziplines, explosions – KISS is rock’n’roll. The crowd was torn open with hits like “Detroit Rock City” and “Shout it Out Loud” followed by Simmons belting out a blood-spitting version of “Hell or Hallelujah” off newest album, Monster, released in early July. Though my favorite part of the set was the 1974 hit “Black Diamond.”

Although their show format may seem a bit formulaic to tried and true fans who’ve followed the band since the ’70s, for me as a first-timer,  it was rock’n’roll magic. That formula in fact, is what has maintained the loyalty of those legions of fans.

KISS setlist:
1. Detroit Rock City
2. Shout It Out Loud
3. I Love It Loud
4. Firehouse
5. Hell of Hallelujah
6. Shock me
7. Bass Solo
8. God of Thunder
9. Love Gun
10. Lick It Up
11. Black Diamond
12. Rock and Roll All Nite

Mötley Crüe selist:
1. Saints of Los Angeles
2. Wild Side
3. Shout at the Devil
4. Same Ol’ Situation (S.O.S)
5. Sex
6. Don’t Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)
7. Home Sweet Home
8. Drum Solo
9. Guitar Solo
10. Live Wire
11. Primal Scream
12. Dr. Feelgood
13. Girls, Girls, Girls
14. Kickstart My Heart

All photos by Matthew Reamer

The good, the bad, and the delicious at Outside Lands

Tony Robles
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5

Recovered yet? We’re almost there. It was a frenzied, foggy, dusty and memorable weekend at Outside Lands in Golden Gate Park. There were sonic high points that brought us to tears, and bathroom lines that did the same. Here are our favorite moments, a photo slideshow of awesome performances — and the niggling things that got under our skin.

THE GOOD

The powerful, still-relevant punch of a perfectly orchestrated Metallica performance; the band still slays in 2012. It was everything a show of that magnitude should be, with legendary metal sing-alongs, wailing guitars, James Hetfield’s signature growl, bass solos, and fan favorites “Master of Puppets,” “One,” and “Blackened,” along with a barrage of even more headbanging hits, pyrotechnics (shooting fireballs on cranes that actually seemed to warm the freezing crowd below), and timed lasers, colorfully slicing through the fog.

Whimsical Father John Misty‘s sexy, subdued tummy-revealing dance moves on the Panhandle Stage; also his opening song “Funtimes in Babylon” (which has him drawling “Look out Hollywood, here I come”) along with the moment when the crowd thought that song had ended, so it applauded, and he replied “shut up!” and finished out the tune.

Neil Young switching to acoustic guitar to play heartbreaking classic “The Needle and the Damage Done,” after 10 minutes of slow, harsh guitar-beating noise (as one fan eloquently put it, “masterbating with his guitar”).

Following his comedy set, David Cross (in Tobias Funke facial hair, as he’s thankfully currently back shooting the revived Arrested Development) and fiance/Joan of Arcadia actress Amber Tamblyn in a traditional festival floppy hat, taking in Neil Young together.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse playing  “Hey Hey, My My.”  Specifically the line: “It’s better to burn out than to fade away and stuttering the “f-f-f-f-f-fade” dramatically.

The spicy, peanut-sauced vegan Malaysian nachos with braised tofu and pickled vegetables from the Azalina’s booth paired with a Hobo Wine Co. Pinot from Wine Lands, eaten cross-legged in the wet grass among thousand of hungry revelers.

The Nerdist (a.k.a Chris Hardwick) curated comedy lineup in the beautiful circular red Barbary tent, including gut-bustingly awesome comedienne-podcast host Michelle Buteau; in particular, Buteau’s subtle knock on the white dude with dreads, and her impressions of her new Dutch husband.

Stevie Wonder, telling the crowd that he loved all his seven children – and all of their mothers – the same. Especially since one of his daughters was there as a backup singer.

The moment when it seemed like every red-blooded ticket-holder was there to see the great Alabama Shakes, filling in the the grassy bowl of the Sutro Stage more so than any other act on that stage. Pure mayhem.

Charming British soul singer Michael Kiwanuka (a one-time tour opener for Adele) answering fan questions in the All Access tent (full disclosure: SFBG’s Caitlin Donohue hosted the interviews).

Pacific Brewing Laboratory’s subtly fruity hibiscus saison at Beer Lands – a standout among a wide variety of unique Beer Lands offerings.

Ninja from Die Antwoord’s bouncy pelvic thrusts – wearing nothing but Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon boxers – singing about “rubbing his dick” on “XP€N$IV $H1T.” (The bass-thumping point basically being: screw fancy stuff.) Followed by tiny bleached firecracker Yo-Landi popping back out on stage in gold lame tights and a huge gold jacket to shake her ass singing that she’s a “Rich Bitch.”

Santigold thanking the bananas in goggles.

Portugal.The Man‘s reverberating rendition of “Ain’t No Sunshine.”

Sincere and personable singer-songwriter Sharon Van Etten telling the crowd a heartfelt story about making mistakes and how they influenced her to write the next song, then supposedly messing up a guitar part during said song (“All I Can” with lyrics “we all mistakes”). But no one caring, because she was so endearing.

Chocolate Lands, with strawberry and apple skulls covered in chocolate hanging from the trees. And the moment when when the Inspector Gadje brass orchestra and red sequined cheerleaders performed among a thoroughfare crowd munching those sweet chocolatey treats sold below the skulls.

Jack White and Tom Morello performing seemingly impromptu concerts in that same wooded area.

Beck giving the antsy masses what they wanted early: “Devils Haircut” the second song in, followed immediately by “Loser.” Letting those who overbooked start making their way to the next act. 

Andrew Bird‘s rotating phonograph-ish stage-craft (edit: we now know it was a Janus Horn) and his soaring whistle, cutting through the rolling fog.

The mathy, intricate instrumental bliss and swelling peaks, tension and release, of Explosions in the Sky on the main stage, as hippies slowly hula-hooped along.

All the offerings from San Francisco’s Pica Pica Maize Kitchen: the gluten-free maize’wich, fried plantains, and crispy yuca fries  –  the best handheld foods for proper band-watching stance.

All the bands and comedians – every single one, regardless of age, gender, background, or genre distinctions  – commenting on the chilly San Francisco weather, seeing as how it’s summertime, people! Not getting sunburned.

THE BAD

Crowds seemed epic this year, though there might not be any getting around that. The park felt stuffed, almost (but not quite) suffocating, with swarms of people funneling out every wooded orifice.

That girl whose wine we accidentally knocked over during Metallica’s set; it’s Metallica, put down the wine, or at least get over it and quit with the non-verbal shaming, Ms. Stink Eye.

So much corporate sponsorship, ads and booths for cell phones and cars and all kinds of technology one needn’t think about during a music festival.

There just has got to be a way around the Porta-Potty, right? Isn’t there a company out there that can make a more suitable moveable toilet, something with a smidge more dignity? That’s corporate sponsorship we could um, get behind. 

Live Shots: Neil Diamond at the HP Pavilion

Tony Robles
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0

At some point during the massive “Sweet Caroline” sing-a-long deep into Neil Diamond’s concert at HP Pavilion, a rowdy female fan vaulted into my aisle, loudly proclaimed her love to Neil, skulked away from some security guards, and then just all-out bolted for the stage.

She made it as far as the fourth row before a scrum of ushers in royal blue jackets intercepted her in mid-sprint. At that point, Neil was really whipping the place into a tidy frenzy. In fact, by the time he hit his stride on “Cracklin’ Rosie” a couple songs later (“Play it now/Play it now my baby”), it seemed like the audience of dolled-up cougars and enthralled seniors might just erupt into a full-on mosh pit.

This was a relief really. I had been rooting for Neil the second I got in the building, though secretly, I still had my doubts. It wasn’t so much pessimism that Neil Diamond couldn’t still deliver, but a sort of “golden age thinking” that has come to infect my mind before seeing any older musician or band these days; essentially (as Woody Allen asserted via Midnight in Paris) “that a different time period is better than the one we’re living in.” When it comes to aging musical acts post-heyday, I just can’t shake the idea that we’re most likely being railroaded towards indulgent nostalgia….at futuristic ticket prices.

Neil took the stage to a packed arena on Tuesday, and thankfully, he not only dismissed my theory, but inverted it: instead of dealing in nostalgia, he made a case for what it means to be a performer. Working through two-dozen songs from a career that has spanned half a century, Diamond took to the setlist and commanded the stage as if he was intent on driving home the difference between a dinosaur and a veteran. Two hours later, there was little doubt he belongs in the latter category.

And Neil’s certainly got a wide range of material to showcase in the process, spanning his many facets: from pop gems (“Cherry, Cherry”) to poignant Paul Simon-style songwriting (“Solitary Man”) to outright Sinatra crooning (“Love on the Rocks”). During the Tom Jones vibe of “Girl, You’ll Be A Woman Soon,” Diamond flaunted his sense for stage theatrics by singing directly to a lone female in the front row as if she were the only person in the arena, and subsequently driving her into hysterics.

Of course, it’s the songs that don’t really have comparison, the ones that are just quintessentially his own that proved the nights biggest hits – “Forever in Blue Jeans,” “I Am, I Said,” and of course, “Sweet Caroline.”

He ended, appropriately enough, with “I’ve Been This Way Before,” with its lyric, “I’m sure to sing my song again.” Five decades in and still kicking, that remains a safe bet.
 

Live Shots: Aerosmith and Cheap Trick at the Oracle Arena

Tony Robles
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7

Photographer Allen David was front and center for Aerosmith and Cheap Trick’s joint concert at the Oracle Arena. Check out his photos and read his thoughts on all the good time rock’n’roll — and action in the pit — in the story below.

Last week I was asked to shoot some photos of Aerosmith and Cheap Trick at the Oracle Arena. I was quite excited at the prospect of hanging out back stage with some of the great rock stars of my youth. When I was 13, I had the privilege of experiencing Cheap Trick in their prime at Six Flags Magic Mountain. And I remember as a kid watching Aerosmith’s cameo in one of my favorite films; Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band (1978). They played rock’n’roll villains, who nearly destroyed the the Bee Gees and Peter Frampton, with their rendition of Come Together.

After shooting some photos elsewhere, I jumped in my VW Bus and hit the pedal to the metal. I was running a little late, and worried that I wouldn’t get into the show. Thankfully, I arrived just in time, and was escorted backstage, where I exchanged glances with Robin Zander.

Next, I was put directly in front of the stage, in The Pit. Which was a great place to view the action, as the rock stars were perfuming their jests within arms reach. Without earplugs, I snapped away, as Rick Nielsen, Tom Petersson, and Robin Zander rocked out right in front of me. Sadly Bun E. Carlos escaped my camera, by hiding behind his drum kit. It was amazing to watch these guys live, 30 years after my last experience with them. They still played the same music, and rocked equally as hard. I would have loved to talk with them about what it’s like to spend so many years reliving their classic tunes.

After the first three songs I had to leave the pit, to give the front row peeps a better view. So for the rest of the Cheap Trick show, I ventured around the tunnels of the Oracle ’till I found the snack booth, and made it into the audience.

Just before Aerosmith came on stage, I was allowed back into The Pit to click photos for their first three songs.  Steve Tyler and Joe Perry are super great for shooting photos. They dress, and move like true rock stars, making my job as a photographer super easy. Steven Tyler’s presence on the edge of the stage seemed to mesmerize every person that he came close to.

He had complete control of the audience. I got to click away as they played three of their classics: “Draw the Line,” “Love in an Elevator,” and “Same Old Song and Dance.” I couldn’t help but nod my head like a parrot, as the rock’n’roll rhythms moved though my body. Sadly after three songs, I was ushered out of The Pit, to give the audience a better view of what they paid to witness. I walked out of the back door, and found my VW Bus still there at the edge of the parking lot, and drove home, while reminiscing about the good old days of rock’n’roll.

Live Shots: Buraka Som Sistema at the Independent

Tony Robles
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2

How much space does a person need to dance? If you’ve been to a packed, over-sold massive EDM show lately, the answer could be zero, as being rooted in place and fist-pumpin’ seems to be all the rage. Really, though, if you’re at least going to move your feet then a little more room* is required.

Which is why I was relieved to find that the Independent, while crowded, wasn’t packed to the walls last night. Because Portugal’s Buraka Som Sistema likes to get down in a very specific way. In that way that Tribe liked to get down – devoted to the art of moving butts.


“If there’s one thing we like to do,” Kalaf Ângelo said during a brief pause, “we like to make people concentrate on the booty.” “No, not the booty,” fellow MC Andro Carvalho corrected, “the ass.” Accepting this distinction, Kalaf paraphrased Parliament: “Free your fucking mind and your ass will follow.”

The techno/kuduro sounds of Buraka Som Sistema may not have been instantly familiar – aside from momentary Lil’ Wayne samples – but following along was easy, as the trio at the front of the stage brought a level of hype (they were clearly having a good time) that was hard to resist.

Copping the dance moves, though, particularly attempting to duplicate the intense MC Karla Rodrigues – who at one point had sort of an extended ass shaking solo – was probably best left to the more experienced dancers with a generous amount of space.**

*A plot of floor with a diameter of 1.6 times the length of your shoulders is the minimum, if you want to be all specific about it.
** Seriously. You don’t want to kick someone in the face just because you really like the beat.

Live Shots: SF Street Food Festival 2012 preview

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The SF Street Food Festival has become such a delight in the summertime. (This year’s takes place on Saturday, August 18.) A chance to sample wonderful treats from the around the world (many developed in the test kitchens of entrepeneurial incubator La Cocina), transporting your taste buds to the far reaches of yumminess. The festival can get crazy crowded, so to help you out, here’s a list of some fave vendors to make a beeline for:


Alicia’s Tamales Los Mayas – It’s partially that you’ll fall in love with Alicia, who will call you “mi cariño,” but it’s also that her delectable homemade tamales are out of this world, stuffed with pork, chicken or cheese and slathered in fresh salsa verde. You can’t go wrong with this corny bundles of love.

Minnie Bells’ Soul Movement – Think fried chicken and mac and cheese. Really good soul food, simple and delicious. Never tasted such flavorful gumbo!

Chiefo’s Kitchen – Chiefo cooks wonderful West African cuisine, that’s spicy and filled with exotic flavors. Try her mini moi-moi, a savory cake made with blended black eyed peas and topped with a crispy piece of meat.

Global Soul – Here’s the deal. I was handed a piece of meat on a toothpick, dripping in fat and it was the best thing ever. You know you want that too.

Azalina’s – “I love deep frying things!” declared Azalina. And she’s not joking! But what I love about her snacks is that yes, they are perfectly fried and golden, but then layered with roasted meats, fresh veggies and topped with a hot pink raspberry. So unique and beautiful!

Neo Cocoa – Save room for dessert! Christine from Neo Cocoa will be serving up chocolate truffle brownies, layered with such decadent fillings as almond butter.

Tobacco-free cigarettes and Alika: Reggae on the River, through a lens

Andrew Lam
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1

Last week I decided it would be fun to check out Reggae on the River for the first time. I called up my brother DJ Guacamole to see if he’d like to come along, only to discover that he was DJing the late-night dancehall dome at Cooks Valley Campground. Without any further hesitation I jumped in my vintage Beemer and headed up to Sebastopol to meet up with him and his DJ buddy, Jacques of WBLK. Luckily for me, Jacques and Guac are well-connected in the NorCal reggae scene. We piled our stuff in Guac’s van, I stuffed myself into the rear seat between sleeping bags and coolers full of Guinness. Three hours later we were greeted by Guac’s dreaded friend in charge, Chris Tafari. He set us up with an awesome campsite just behind the dome stage.

The next morning, I woke up to scores of cars whose inhabitants were all trying to score the ideal camp spot. It was kinda like the frontier land rushes of the 1800s. Some of the most coveted spots were on the edge of the crystal-clear Eel River. It was that perfect temp that severs any hangover you might be tempted to throw its way. My first splash in the river helped washed away my puffy morning eyes like magic.

While cooling off in the water, I was soothed with the electro-dubstep sounds of Sacramento DJ J-Dubs from the River stage. I met a nice guy who offered me a sample of his hand-rolled, tobacco-free cigarette. Not being a smoker, I was quite hesitant, but seeing that I was at a reggae fest, I figured I’d better see what this stuff is all about. I took a little puff, and realized that the music playing in the background seemed to get a little clearer — and my social skills got a little foggier.

On Saturday I rode a crowded party shuttle to the main festival site. While strolling around the festival, sipping on my Bob Marley coffee, I walked past the vendor booths separating the two main stages. For the shoppers of the world, this festival was a paradise of red, gold, and green accessories.

I was sweetly surprised when I reached the main stage to find the soulful sounds of veteran singer Calypso Rose. She has a confidence and grace that has been built over the greater part of a century. Later in the day I witnessed the much-anticipated Alika, who came all the way from Argentina to tour around the US with her monumental style of Latin reggae. I really enjoyed that her band Quinto Sol — with this mix of music, there’s no way to stop dancing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BEYFLu3ShNc&feature=fvwrel

Back at the late-night dancehall dome, I watched as Guacamole and Jacques lured people from their afternoon naps to the dancefloor. Eventually, the dome was filled with couples grinding their bodies to the dancehall beats. I really loved the singing of Cocoa Tea and Norris Man. And the great DJ sounds of Jah Warrior Shelter and Silverback. I even got to listen to the great beats of Selecta Konnex, as the sun came up over the Eel River.

Eventually Monday rolled around, and we had to head back to Sebastopol, but no fear. The Monday after, we were treated to a special WBLK show with Alika and DJ Stepwise at the Hopmonk Tavern.

Life is great for a photographer.

Fountains of Wayne thanks fans for not going to see Ray Davies

Tony Robles
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0

Fountains of Wayne was exhausted, its effects pedals weren’t working, and the crowd was only half full at the Great American Music Hall last Thursday night. But for some reason, despite the band’s jet lag and the shortcomings of its borrowed equipment, the show sounded good. In fact, it sounded fantastic.

The smallish crowd had the excited energy of a sold-out show – it sang/shouted along to every word of every song the band played from its massive catalog, even the newest additions. Though the audience varied greatly in age – most were going gray, but the boys in front of me didn’t have two armpit hairs to rub together – they were unified by their enthusiasm and apparent passion for a great pop hook.  “Thank you for not going to see Ray Davies at the Fillmore tonight,” joked bassist Adam Schlesinger. “He’s very talented.”

Fountains of Wayne has been churning out catchy riffs and hilariously poignant lyrics for 16 years. Despite a somewhat confusing Grammy win (the band won best new artist in 2007, seven years into its career) and the international popularity of MILF-honoring single “Stacey’s Mom,” the band never managed to break through to lasting mainstream success.

Apparently undaunted by this continued obscurity, FOW has managed to avoid a painful fadeout. After so many years together, the band members don’t seem to carry any tension – they exude an air of casual confidence on stage.

Fountains of Wayne’s tight songwriting and humble persistence has earned it a devoted core of fans, from people who have been listening to them from their first album to tweens who were born after the band was started.

And there we stood, beers in hand on a weeknight. Everywhere I looked people were smiling, hugging, dancing, laughing. Before the band had even come onstage, onlookers were singing along with the instrumental introduction to the first song, and they didn’t quiet down until after the house lights came on.

Live Shots: Phono Del Sol

Tony Robles
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2

Hosting an all-day outdoor festival in the middle of a chilly SF summer was a crapshoot, but the Bay Bridged bet well. The sun sizzled so strongly over Phono Del Sol attendees and bands last Saturday that one musician had to call out into the crowd for coverage.

La Sera’s Katy Goodman (also of Vivian Girls) had to take a pause from her creamy crooning – likely at that moment singing of a break-up – to borrow a baseball hat from one of a few dude lounging in the grass just out front of the Potereo del Sol Park stage.

To stage right a handful of skaters glided through the skatepark, mostly rolling just above lip of the half-pipe then back down again. To stage left, a sea of women in sundresses and men in flimsy T-shirts stood behind the fence drinking $5 cups of beer, or munching Kung-Fu Tacos or Kasa Indian Eatery rice plates from the bank of food trucks.

It was a prime, summery, music-punctuated Saturday in San Francisco for the second annual Phono Del Sol, with a good turnout of fans parking themselves along the shade-covered hills first, then slowly filling in the direct-sun center bowl.
 
Host Broke-Ass Stuart popped up between each act with a Pauly Shore joke or witty aside, and DJs Andy Cabic, Kevin Meenan, and Zach Rogue, kept the music pumping while the acts set up. The break-down times were quick, leaving precious minutes to rush to beer and food. And Vitamin Water offered free, sticky-sweet beverages to those in need of non-alcoholic liquid between acts.

After Sacramento’s Sea of Bees left the stage, Stuart described its sound as “make-out music” and implored the then-sparse crowd of fans to kiss their partners, a rare awkward moment.

La Sera’s Goodman next arrived on the concrete stage, wearing one of those seasonal sundresses, and opening with dreamy, girl group-esque ditty “Break My Heart.” She asked for that aforementioned cap a few songs in and swayed steadily throughout the set, occasionally mentioning the “chill” vibe at the intimate fest.

Gardens & Villa came out pan-flute first, kicking off the set with “Thorn Castle” off last year’s self-titled LP, an insta-indie pop classic. As the director of the band’s video for “Spacetime” noted during the Phono Del Sol appearance, Gardens & Villa (that’s “vee-ya”) sounds precisely the same live as it does on the record – a notable achievement as the album was a joint project with legendary producer Richard Swift.

A cluster of sun-chasers later gathered to dance by the stage in a sinewy fashion during minimalist psych act Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s riff-heavy performance. You could get lost in those dance moves as the guitar crawled on.

The closing performance, by SF’s own the Fresh & Onlys, was the perfectly appropriate finale for such a pleasurable afternoon. Peppered with tracks off the upcoming Long Slow Dance, the swirling, hooky garage band’s set was both familiar and enticingly…fresh.

In a cap and camo jacket, swarthy singer-guitarist Tim Cohen seemed in relaxed spirits, repeatedly asking those in the crowd to hold up their kids (they obliged). He later addressed the general grass-sprawled audience, “you guys look like little kids at an assembly.” Pause. “That’s what happens you take acid.”

Only complaint? The entire bottle of sticky-sweet Vitamin Water I spilled on my weather-appropriate sundress. That and the sunburn.

Werk It Out! dances under the disco ball

Andrew Lam
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0

Add a disco ball to any situation and you will not decrease its likelihood of becoming a party. When I stopped by ODC Theater earlier this week to snap some photos of the Alyce Finwall Dance Theater‘s rehearsals for the upcoming three-day dance festival Werk It Out!, it appeared that the dancers were in a festive mood. Werk It Out! features performances by six up-and-coming Bay Area choreographers, including Alyce Finwall, Minna Harri, Tanya Bello, Christine Bonansea, Michelle Fletcher, and Malinda LaVelle.

The pieces incorporate music ranging from the Beach Boys to Biosphere and themes revolve around a variety of topics — relationships and sexuality are there in spades, just like at any good party. Some pieces request audience participation, so make sure you’re wearing dancing shoes. From the preview I was able to see this week, this dance showcase is not to be missed, and not only because over it all spins that fabulous, glittering disco ball.

Werk It Out!

Fri/20, 8pm; Sat/21, 3pm and 8pm; Sun/22 3pm, one performance $25, festival pass $50-$60

ODC Theater

3153 17th St., SF

www.odcdance.org

Live Shots: US Air Guitar SF Regional

Tony Robles
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The US Air Guitar Championships held their SF Regionals at the Independent Saturday night. As such, a sold-out crowd of air-thusiests and the competitors’ family members gathered to see who would be crowned the SF champ and be given the opportunity to participate at Nationals in Denver.

As it was the final regional stop and only a matter of time before a 2012 Air Guitar World Champion would be crowned at the end-all event in scenic Oulu, Finland, “master of airemonies” Bjorn Turoque opened the night with a performance of “The Finland Countdown” (including the timely addition of a bit of “Zou Bisou Bisou”), accompanied by 2008’s World Champion, Hot Lixx Hulahan.

Hulahan would also judge the night’s competition – along with comedian Caitlin Gill and the Mr.T Experience’s “Dr. Frank” Portman – on the basis of technical merit, stage presence, and, of course, airness.

And the competition – full of requisite punny names, terribly great outfits, and ridiculous faces – was fierce, particularly the local rivalry between former SF regional champs Alex “Awesome” Koll and Matthew “Cold Steel Renegade” Feldstein.

As the event went on, it felt as though the faux-guitarists were going to attempt almost anything to up the take their performance to 11, particularly when Texan (and Jack Black/Norman Reedus love child) Taylor “Brock McRock” Fullbright precariously wobbled on a stage speaker only inches above my head.

Overcoming out-of-town disadvantage, NYC’s Justin “Seth Leibowitz” Hypes won the night, making a strong start with a heavy metal rendition of “Call Me Maybe” before seemingly levitating over the crowd in the final round. It was an impressive night, particularly if you followed Turoque’s advice at the start: “Don’t be sober, otherwise it’s just going to look kind of stupid.”

Live Shots: Quintron and Miss Pussycat at New Parish

Tony Robles
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0

Peer pressure is the key to any good party. “Don’t leave, don’t leave,” Miss Pussycat called out from the stage Friday night at New Parish, not so much begging or pleading, but in a tone that suggested the couple heading towards the door with their coats were crazy.

The pair turned, torn, and together mouthed something inaudible about the time, or BART, or something. “Maybe Sean could give you a ride,” Miss Pussycat said, seemingly picking a name at random and pointed out into the audience, adding with a deceptively innocent smile, “…wherever you’re going, and then you’ll become best friends.”

Whether convinced or just shamed, the two walked back into the crowd, Miss Pussycat gave a cheer, and the Leslie speaker connected to Qunitron’s organ began to spin up as he launched into the frenzied warble “Banana Beat.”

Essentially in their own genre of swamp boogie, the New Orleans-based Quintron and Miss Pussycat puts on what is basically more like a dance party than a conventional show. Sure, there’s a fair amount of spectacle. It opens with Miss Pussycat’s puppet show, a sort of DIY La Voyage dans la lune that’s enjoyable if you like the aesthetic of Pee-wee’s Playhouse and watching Adult Swim cartoons in a smoked-out stupor.

When it comes to playing music, Quintron always has something going on, using a number or inventions (like his light-operated drum machine) that no one else really does (or understands).

The closest comparison might by the B-52s. Partly because of the campy silliness, partly because of the style, and partly because the combined over-the-top male and female vocals. But mainly it’s the video for “Love Shack” that used to play on VH1 every other commercial break in the early ’90s. The one where everybody is strange, fun, and getting down. The one where they are drinking everything in sight, including the bath tub water. Yeah, it’s a similar kind of atmosphere at the Quintron and Miss Pussycat show.

In addition to crowd control and vocal duties, Miss Pussycat focuses her energy on stage by playing a pair of carefully accessorized maracas. Shaking them mostly, but occasionally tossing one into the air and catching it.

As the show went on, I was concerned by the increasing number of times she dropped them onto the floor. Until I factored in that, considering how many shots she had taken with members of the audience (including one whose shirt read “fuck you YOU fuckin’ fuck – Bourbon St., New Orleans”), she was doing just fine.

Opener
Compared to Quintron and Miss Pussycat, Dent May gave a mild performance, pulling almost entirely from his latest, Do Things and the “Eastover Wives” single. (As someone that never caught him live before, I’d hoped to hear a bit from his last album, although he did play “Meet Me in the Garden.”) The live show doesn’t quite have the understated suave playfulness of May’s records, although there’s a sense that a muted energy is still emerging.

At his best, the slow R&B ballad “Do Things” gave off an Enchantment Under the Sea feel, giving a couple in the audience a chance to slow dance. Moves like jumping off the kick drum at the very end of the set, however, were a bit too calculated.

Live Shots: The Mountain Goats at Swedish American Hall

Tony Robles
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“Oh god, I’m not remembering the third verse,” John Darnielle of the Mountain Goats said Wednesday at the Swedish American Hall, and continued to play familiar chords as someone from the second row shouted out the next line. His memory jogged, the singer finished “Isaiah 45:23” from 2009’s The Life of the World to Come and asked the woman he apparently recognized, “was that you?” She nodded, and he smiled, saying how great it was when someone who has been a fan from the beginning knows the words to one of the newer songs.

Are there casual fans of the Mountain Goats? “The odds that 149 of the 150 people in this room have heard this story are high,” Darnielle said, as he introduced a song. “Tell it anyway!” someone yelled. However much the singer may ramble and repeat himself at shows, the rapport he has with his audience allows it. Which is a good thing, since as much as I’d be hard pressed to say whether more time was spent talking or playing music, I couldn’t say which I enjoyed more.

Darnielle clearly loves the performance – at times he’ll hit a certain line and step away from the mic, struck with a huge grin on his face – but also takes a lot of pleasure in relating the back-stories and concepts of his songs, whether buying a desk with his father, character actor Lon Chaney Jr. losing his voice, or how Mario’s quest makes him better than Jesus. (“There you are, grabbing resurrections left and right.”)

The set for the night – the first of two at the Swedish American – came from all over the catalog, and included new song “Night Light” from a forthcoming album which Darnielle said was (like much of his oeuvre) “about mental illness, in big scare quotes, a useless term that’s used to exclude people.”

As a treat for the San Francisco audience, which Darnielle said has always treated The Mountain Goats well, he partially ad-libbed “Song for Greg Valentine,” about a wrestler who always fell back on a simple plan: “break legs, break legs, break legs.”

There was an encore in which Darnielle played “You Were Cool” – a “very special song” he intends never to release on record – and then the lights went up. Out in the street, a woman said to her friend, “He knows we’ll all be back tomorrow.”

-Pure Milk
-Dinu Lipatti’s Bones
-Stars Around Her
-Cotton
-Rotten Stinking Mouthpiece
-Ox Baker Triumphant
-Night Light
-Isaiah 45:23
-Alpha Gelida
-San Bernadino
-Black Pear Tree
-Thank You Mario, But Our Princess is in Another Castle
-Dilaudid
-Grendel’s Mother
-The Hot Garden Stomp
Encore
-Surrounded
-Mole
-You Were Cool
-Alpha Incipiens

Opener:
In contrast to the Mountain Goats, guitarist Dustin Wong was tight lipped, only opening his mouth briefly to sing without words (and to thank the room at the beginning and end of his set, wide-mouthed with beaming gratitude.) Best known for his work with Ponytail, Wong is in league with Merrill Garbus, Reggie Watts, and Owen Pallett, using looping pedals and technological tweaks to create a sound bigger than one person.

For most of the show, Wong was seated, using both feet to manipulate the pedals in a way that was often more reminiscent of a drummer than a traditional guitarist. The individual sounds were sometimes minimalist, slowly strumming a chord to its limit, or plucking on the bottom end to create tabla percussions, but as he built the music up, brick by brick, it grew into an impressive wall of sound. (Like an Eric Johnson made out of legos.)

Against a swirl of feedback Wong would occasion a few big, bassy parts, showing that individual notes still mattered. Tracklisting? Forget about it. From 2010’s seamless Infinite Love or the recent Dreams Say, View, Create, Shadow Leads? Can’t tell you if it was “Tea Tree Leaves Retreat” or “Triangle Train Stop.” The transitions consisted of adding or subtracting a layer, until Wong would shut everything off leaving the one piece he was currently playing, showing that he was still behind the controls.  

THEESatisfaction communicates its boldly cosmic agenda at the Independent

Tony Robles
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Amid the reign of Kanye, it can be easy to overlook the humble beginnings of hip-hop: a populist genre designed to be executed with minimal resources. Seattle duo THEESatisfaction’s reverence for this history was on full display at the Independent last Friday night, as they “turned off the swag” to deliver a remarkably unadorned performance, in support of the acclaimed awE naturalE, released earlier this year. Two microphones and a MacBook were all Catherine Harris-White and Stasia Irons needed to communicate their boldly cosmic agenda.

Taking the stage in matching leopard-print, Stas and Cat opened with the frenetic, Billy Cobham-esque “naturalE”, before easing into an expertly paced set, indebted to countless strains of black vanguard music: the astral thrust of Sun Ra and George Clinton; the buttery neo-soul of Erykah Badu; the political integrity of Last Poets; the loop-based hypnosis of J Dilla.

Musicians this boldly enterprising are notorious for massaging their egos, but conversely, Stas and Cat turned in an endearingly casual performance, devoid of hipster posturing and showbiz schtick. Everything, down to the synchronized dance moves, was imparted with the laid-back spirit of two best friends (or, in Stas and Cat’s case, lovers) goofing off in their living room.

Despite the relaxed vibe, the duo’s stage presence was incredibly refined, starting with their beautifully interlocking vocal techniques. Cat’s jazz-based vocal inflections provided the perfect foil to Stas’ rap verses, like the splash of milk in a cup of tea. “Deeper” was a highlight in this sense; revolving mainly around Stas’ rapping, Cat added subtle ornamentation, echoing syllables and completing phrases to create a swirling, intoxicating tremolo effect.

In a pleasant surprise, “Deeper” ended with a newly written, a capella outro, before transitioning seamlessly into the grooving, yet subdued, “Needs.” While the (predominantly female) audience went wild, nothing could’ve prepared them for the hedonistic centerpiece of awE naturalE, “QueenS”. A much needed, diversionary moment on a record abound with blistering social criticism, it entitled Cat to her Donna Summer moment of the night. The crowd reacted ecstatically, singing along to her chants of, “sweat in your cardigan!” while doing exactly that.

The remainder of THEESatisfaction’s set balanced material from awE naturalE, with cuts from their self-released That’s Weird (2008) and Snow Motion (2009). Clocking in at roughly an hour, it left the audience mostly satisfied, craving just a little more: an ideal balance that’s rarely achieved.

The “laptop set,” much like a solo singer-songwriter performance, is a difficult art to master. It takes a compelling personality to keep things interesting in such a minimal environment. On Friday night, THEESatisfaction showed a total command of their craft, never allowing their austere presentation to overshadow the richness of their creative vision.

Scandinavian prudishness surprises Extra Action Marching Band

Tony Robles
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By Lasse Lundberg Andreasen
Photos by Pelle Rink

The young festival worker only offers one piece of advice: “Do not enter their hotel room. They are wack. They will flip you upside down and snort coke from your ass. Also, they might be gay”.

The rumours about Oakland’s 27-piece Extra Action Marching Band (EAMB) had arrived in Copenhagen long before the band. EAMB was invited to the Danish capital to perform at the Distortion street festival in early June this year.

Performances by this massive ensemble include a flag team, barely dressed male and female dancers and a bullhorn performer. A combination, which led to some confusion among the audience. “I’m pretty sure one of them was a transvestite”, a woman says out loud after the show, clearly in doubt about the appropriateness of her own statement.

The Bay Area band was somewhat perplexed about the sexual focus. “This is so weird. It’s the second time someone has asked us about homosexuality since we arrived,” says Violet Angell, a drummer in the band.

“Yes, some in the band are homosexuals, others are brothers or someone’s aunt. It’s not an issue for us at all. The time we just spent on this question is the longest time we have ever spent talking about it. Ever. We have started wondering what the Danish people are hiding in their closets”, Violet Angell adds.

In the US, the bands performances spark other kinds of reactions. “After a gig in the US a woman wanted to know why our female dancers was dancing the way they do. She thought it was degrading for the women. I just told her: You got issues – I play music. That’s it”.

One of the founding members of EAMB, Simon Cheffins, explains, “Our performances are not about entertaining. Rather we want to blur the lines between a band performing and an audience passively receiving. That’s why the dancers and musicians get so intimate with the crowd.”

Later in the evening, it’s time for the second act at the festival. However, this time the performance is not in a hotel and the crowd has been drinking for hours.

“We like to play late gigs. People are more drunk”, a band member says just before EAMB push their way into the massive crowd.

Tasting the rainbow at CUESA’s Stone Fruit Tour

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Photos by Bowerbird Photography

As a child, my mom remembers driving with her father to a cherry farm to check out the farmer’s crop. My grandfather was a wholesale produce man whose job was to visit farms and buy whole harvests for the season. The farmer would give her huge cherries bigger than her hand and allowed her to gorge on the juicy fruit. My grandfather died when my mom was five years old, and so this memory is special to her. This story is important to me as well, since I never met my grandfather, and have always been curious about California’s orchards.

CUESA, which organizes the farmers’ market at the Ferry Building, also hosts farm tours. I signed up for the Stone Fruit Tour, and boarded a bus on Fri/15 which left the Ferry Building and took us to the Central Valley, first stopping at Bella Viva orchards in Denair, about two hours east of the city.

The sun was hot and the orchard smelled like warm fruit. We meandered through white nectarines, yellow peaches, eating (and eating!) as we went, sticky nectar dripping down our shirts. Bella Viva is a family business, run by the Martinos family. Victor Martinos gave us a tour, along with one his daughters (he has two, Belle and Vivian, hence Bella Viva, which means “beautiful long life” in Italian). We learned about his organic farming practices. He strings pheromone paper strips in the trees to confuse pests and scatters the property with homemade owl homes to hunt gophers that enjoy munching on cherry roots.

The Martinos also own another orchard that is non-organic, or conventional, and compared his practices. I was surprised to hear that some of the organic sprays (like lime sulfate, which has a skull and cross bones on the label) are more toxic than the conventional alternatives, especially when it comes to preventing the dreaded bloom rot. In fact, he is prohibited by law from using the same sprays he uses at his organic orchard at his conventional one because of its proximity to a school. I got the impression that Martinos takes safety seriously, holding frequent meetings with his workers, and requiring them to wear protective suits and masks when applying hazardous sprays.

We were allowed to carry back as much fruit as we could hold in our two bare hands. My strategy was to eat as much as I could off the trees, then and there. Talk about fresh! High on fructose, we made our way to an open field to check out the orchard’s impressive drying operations. As far as the eye could see, red cherries dried in the sun. Pretty stunning!

After a delicious lunch made from farmers’ market produce, that CUESA whipped up, we headed out to our second stop, CandyCot Fruit Company apricot orchard in Waterford. These are no ordinary apricots. John Driver, the owner, is like a mad-scientist seeking to breed the perfect apricot. He spent years in Central Asia, the fruit’s origin, searching for the perfect specimens. It took him a whole fifteen years to create his crop, which is fit for California weather and was approved (after two year in quarantine) by the USDA. He plans on selling them this week at the Ferry Building farmers’ market. They are unlike any apricot you’ve ever tasted, sweet and complex. I wouldn’t be surprised if Bi-Rite creates a gourmet ice cream flavor for it.

On the bus ride home, as Sam Love dozed off in the evening sun, I looked out the window at the passing trees, dripping with summer wonderfulness, feeling, perhaps not unlike how my mom felt as a little kid on her way back to the city after a day spent at the orchards.

Live Shots: The Temper Trap at Warfield

Tony Robles
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Australian indie rock band the Temper Trap played to a nearly-full Warfield theater on Saturday night, where devoted fans screamed every word along with singer Dougy Mandagi.

The sparsely decorated stage — the flashiest set piece was a boomerang taped to the mic stand — left all the attention on the band, giving a feeling of stripped-down intimacy usually reserved for smaller shows.

Live Shots: Patrick Watson at Great American Music Hall

Tony Robles
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The Great American Music Hall was at about half capacity for Patrick Watson’s Sunday night performance, but what the audience lacked in numbers they made up in energy. Before the Montreal-based singer even walked onto the stage, there was a buzz of excitement in the small crowd.

At first, the eagerness of the audience seemed at odds with the band’s quiet, dreamy folk songs. But with every song it played, the band picked up energy and volume, at times building from its lullaby-like melodies into cymbal crashing jam sessions with backing gang vocals reminiscent of Arcade Fire.

The beginning of the set focused on Watson’s airy vocals paired with simple piano riffs. As the night continued, the songs became more and more eclectic, oscillating between genres too fast to even identify the Latin roots of one chorus before they had already played a bluesy bridge into a folk refrain.

Even more varied than the band’s influences was the multitude of instruments used in each song. Odd-looking percussion tools were scattered around the stage. The drummer played not just the standard drum kit, but also many obscure and homemade instruments that I simply could not identify. He held a bow to nearly anything that could have noise conjured out of it, including a saw and, at one point, what appeared to be a soccer trophy.

Watson interspersed the patchwork of tunes with anecdotes relating to the origins of the songs, most pertaining to transient adventures or quiet, bucolic moments. His tone with the audience was charmingly conversational. At points he upheld dialogues with fans that shouted out to him, telling stories about his two children and his small house in Quebec.

Much of the band’s charm lies in the air of camaraderie that hangs heavily around them. A self-described “big traveling family” Patrick Watson and his band radiate affection for each other and for their music. Even in the moments that the style-switches were not seamless and the energy dipped, the sincerity of Watson’s smile outshone it all.

Live Shots: Advance Base at Cafe Du Nord

Tony Robles
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0

For a smallish setup with little fuss, few musicians, and a minimalist sound, there was a lot to take in last night at Advance Base’s Cafe Du Nord appearance; a night otherwise known as Owen Ashworth’s (Casiotone for the Painfully Alone) first time playing SF in this new incarnation as Advance Base, since he essentially broke up with himself. And no, he would not be playing CFTPA songs.

Vintage instruments were packed neatly on the stage: Ashworth’s boxy 1970s-era Rhodes 54 electric piano, an Omnichord, an autoharp, a sampler, various pedals and twisty lit-up knobs and buttons. And then there was Ashworth himself, his bespectacled face and tall slumping shoulders, a decade’s worth of songwriting weighing down on them as he hunched over the Rhodes. His set began with that anticipation, his years of performances as another act behind him, a question of where it would begin.

At first, he sat alone, as he did as Casiotone (though didn’t he normally stand back then? No matter), and opened with springy, sample-driven, “Summer Music,” which actually is more of a breakup song, with a knife-twisting nostalgic pull in the repeated lyrics “The sound of music from the kitchen boombox” – like nothing changes yet everything ends with that old stereo continually pumping out sounds in another room, just out of sight. You’re gone and I’m still here.

“Summer Music” is also the first track off Advance Base’s newly released debut LP  A Shut-Ins Prayer. It felt like there was a sigh of relief from the crowd after that intro – phew – our own tense shoulders lowered. He hasn’t changed, too much (we collectively thought this, right?)

On the next song, “New Gospel” –  and through much of the set – he invited his fellow Chicagoan Jody Weinmann and touring opener Nick Krgovich up on stage to join him in song, on backup vocals and autoharp/keyboard respectively. Krgovich had proved himself a worthy musical companion during his own set; he’s a strong performer (who also used the Rhodes) with a powerful, jazz-inflected singing voice – and he chose great cover songs, originals by ’70s folk singer John Martin and Neil Young, to anchor his time. The crowd was too sparse during Krgovich’s earlier set, a shame really.

He also told the story of meeting Ashworth for the first time a decade ago in Krgovich’s native Vancouver. He said, “hi, I’m Owen.” Krgovich said “that’s the loneliest name in the world.” They’ve been stage-sharing pals ever since. Ashworth repeated the story during his set.

As a trio at Du Nord, Krgovich, Ashworth, and Weinmann turned nearly country fair folk, and moved onward to “The Sister You Never Had,” an elegant waltz, followed by “Christmas in Oakland.” The crowd made a light whooping sound at the mention of Oakland and Ashworth deadpanned, “Oh, you guys know Oakland?”

Much of the set was filled with the tracks off A Shut-Ins Prayer, but Advance Base also dropped in new songs like “Christmas in Milwaukee” and another that told the twee-cute story about a lost cat.

That song supposedly told the story of Ashworth’s cat back home in Chicago, how it ran away and they covered the neighborhood with “Lost Cat” posters, which totally bummed out his friends. He sang of idiot well-wishers who promised the cat would simply return on its own, and of checking the local SPCA religiously. Straining to hear the end of the sung story, we smiled as we learned the once-forlorn cat had been found, and was home safe.

Ashworth ended the set by asking the crowd if they had any questions (favorite color is blue, favorite baseball team is the Giants), and telling a joke about kids getting nutty when parents are out of town, all this before profusely thanking us for being there with him on this weirdly nostalgic evening for a brand new act.

O, queso! Delectable slices of Spain and Portugal

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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“Don’t. Eat. The. Cheese.”

I kept telling myself this as I stared down at my plate during the Cheeses of Spain and Portugal Class at the Cheese School on May 23. Nine slices of sweating, salty, pungent wonderfulness looked back at me, taunting. Thankfully, there were endless glasses of delicious white wine to drink before the class started.

Juliana Uruburu (imagine this name pronounced with a beautiful Spanish accent) was our teacher for the evening, guiding us through the diverse and tremendous flavors of Spanish cheese. “Cheese chose me,” exclaimed Uruburu, who has been working in cheese for decades and is an obvious fanatic from the way she talks about it. How can you not be a fanatic when you spend your days doting over wheels of cheese like majon — a sheep cheese with cajones! — and visiting Paris every year for the Salon du Fromage, the equivalent of the World’s Fair of cheeses.

Eventually we were able to eat the cheese… but first we had to smell it first, then break it in half, before tasting the creamy subtle center and slowly sampling outwards to the funky rind. Uruburu explained that Spain is one of the most innovative and exciting places when it comes to food. This year at the Salon in Paris, Spain presented over 50 new varieties of cheese. Así que mucha innovación! So much innovation!

Uruburu taught us a bunch of geeky tidbits about cheese-making and tasting. For example, those little crunchy crystals in some cheeses like Manchego aren’t made from salt, but a protein called tyrosine that develops in certain curds. Another fact for gluten-conscious eaters: blue cheese may contain wheat gluten because the culture is often made with moldy bread. Who knew? After devouring a large plate of cheese (and several glasses of wine), there was one queso that stood out the most to me. Cadi urgelia. Soft but stinky.

Four couples in the room had trips planned to Spain, thinking it would be a fun idea to get a little cheese primer first. For me, I was able to satisfy some of my travel lust through this class by letting my palate transport me back to Spain, with their countless tapas bars, colorful flamenco music, and beautiful mid-day siestas.

The Cheese School hosts a variety of fun cheese classes and events, including cheese-making classes with the SF Milk Maid.

Live Shots: Spiritualized at the Fillmore

Tony Robles
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0

The guy working security at the Fillmore Wednesday night gave all the photographers in the pit the fingers. Two. Letting them know that rather than the usual three songs, they’d only be allowed to stay there and shoot the first couple. Coming from some bands this sort of announcement would be enough to send the photogs into a hurried panic, but as Spiritualized set the pace with “Hey Jane,” the almost nine-minute rocker that opens latest album Sweet Heart Sweet Light, it was clear the show wouldn’t be so rushed.

It also set a theme for the night. “Hey Jane, when you gonna die?” the band – with extra soul coming from a pair of backup singers – sang over and over. Death isn’t a new topic for Spiritualized, a group (largely Jason Pierce) that’s always combined psychedelic self-realization with gospel influenced calls for salvation. But with Sweet Heart Sweet Light, an album that came about as Pierce struggled with life threatening pneumonia and a degenerative liver disease, the topic seems to have a new gravity.

There was a fairly logical thread early in the set as the band transitioned across albums thorough “Lord Let It Rain on Me,” “Headin’ for the Top Now,” and “Walking With Jesus.” Midway through “Walking” – a bit of rhythm and blues accentuated with harmonica and a whirling organ worthy of a wildly enthusiastic church revival or Allman Brothers concert on Venus – the music got quieter, slower, and darker. Pierce’s vocals were in focus and as he sang “I know I’ve done wrong but I could have done worse.” The song dates back to the Spaceman 3 days, and the line now comes with a lot of weight.

At one point, relatively early in the set, during “Rated X” the person standing behind me told their friend, “This show is kind of boring me to death.” Minority opinion. Even after Spiritualized played their arguably most well-known song, “Ladies and Gentlemen We’re Floating in Space,” having already played for a reasonable amount of time (outside of jam band standards,) the sold out crowd was still thick.

The closer for the night was “Cop Shoot Cop.” It certainly runs on, from a strolling piano groove with light guitars and drums, to a raging wash of guitar and drums with light piano, effectively exhausting the audience’s attention span, so that when it was over the lights were ready to come on.

But for me the real goodbye was “So Long You Pretty Thing,” the final track off of the latest album. Not (just) because of my vanity, but because it – as tenderly beautiful as anything Pierce has put out – is also a reminder that every time you see a band could be the last.

Ugh, that’s depressing, but I guess that alternation between desperation and hope is pretty central to Spiritualized. So I’ll keep in mind the other line from “Walking With Jesus” – that Pierce has been singing for decades – “It’s a long, long time between now and my death.” Maybe it’s a mantra.

Set List:
Hey Jane
Lord Let It Rain On Me
Headin’ For The Top Now
Walking With Jesus
Oh Baby
Rated X
Born Never Asked
Electric Mainline
Soul On Fire
I Am What I Am
Ladies And Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space
Mary
Stay With Me
She Kissed Me (It Felt Like A Hit)
Come Together
–Encore–
So Long You Pretty Thing
Cop Shoot Cop

Opener:
Whether her normal mode or to fit the bill, country singer Nikki Lane sang everything–songs about marriage, a move to California, or taking a walk of shame–with the same solemn tone, strumming her acoustic guitar. Her banter was a little more cheery. “I used to collect Fillmore posters,” the singer said. “I only stopped because some burned up in an apartment I had in L.A.” Then she smiled and added, “Now I have one with my name on it.”

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