Live Shots

Brews and Boontling: Beer fest shots from Anderson Valley

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Photographer Allen David sent us these snaps from the May 12 Boonville Beer Festival, good old-fashioned weekend porn if ere we’ve some. Check them (and his prose below) out to kickstart your next mission outside city limits, using our 2012 Summer Fairs and Festival guide for additional inspiration.  

A scenic drive north takes me to the festival at which the suds spread and the language are both unique. Boontling, an Anderson Valley regional dialect with words from the British Empire, the Pomo Californian indigenous people, and Spain can be heard between the festival’s many taps: “The ballets steinbok horning’, chiggrul groin’ tiddrick in the heelch of the Boont Region!”

For four hours I am able to sample the finest beers that the West has to offer. From golden pale ales to dark oatmeal stouts to Double IPAs with more hops than I thought possible. Two hours into the festival, everyone’s feeling hoppy themselves. Those sudden yells of joy you only find at beer festivals spread across the crowd, as smiles stretch further and further across faces.

Beer bellies be damned, when the end of the festival approaches everyone finishes their last glass and heads to the fair campground to continue the party, with DJs and dancing ’til the moon is high above. Great festival. See you next year, Boontling.

Live Shots: Livening up Mendell Plaza

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Every Saturday, as part of a 12-week free concert series, the Bayview Opera House transforms Mendell Plaza into a music-filled oasis. (I visited on May 12 and fell in love with the sounds and sights of this Bayview spot.)


While listening to soulful live tunes, you can join in on a game of dominoes, stroll through the organic community garden to check out some vivacious kale fronds, or head over to the 100% College Prep Club  table.

The Club is an inspiring organization that offers youth in the Bayview-Hunters Point after-school tutoring, with the ultimate goal of getting them into college. The Club also takes its students on college tours to help motivate them and explore learning opportunities outside of San Francisco. These kids are an amazing and multi-talented bunch! All the musicians who performed were either former graduates of the program or soon off to college. Pretty impressive.

Thanks to the beautiful weather, there was a large turnout from the Bayview-Hunters Point community. Even the pup guarding the bbq stand gave a howl of appreciation for such a fun and vibrant event.

Live Shots: ‘Uncertain Weather’ at ODC

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The ODC Youth and Teen Program staged its first full performance in a fantastic collection of dances inspired by the seasons on Fri/11.  Dancers twirled through the “rain” with colorful umbrellas, an ice cream hawker tapped on a sunny beach, and sweaty passengers swayed in a sardine-packed Mission bus ride.

Each piece was unique and imaginative. A shoe-free tap dance number was done in miniature sand boxes, creating a pleasing and rhythmic sound under quick moving feet. Four adorable munchkins called “The Quartet” (they were the youngest dancers in the performance) added their own spunky moves and sunglass-clad cool looks to many of the routines.

But best of all was the eerie fan dance, in which three dancers, with long, luscious locks leaned over industrial fans and danced with the wind. It was beautiful and creepy, and one of the most sophisticated and mature dance pieces I’ve seen performed by such a young group of dancers. Kudos for pushing the envelope on that piece and for all the great young talents that danced their hearts out this weekend.
 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cnw2id6_Zuo

Live Shots: The Drums and Craft Spells at Great American Music Hall

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“Let’s just have a good time tonight,” said Jonny Pierce, the singer of the Drums, one song into a sold-out show at the Great American Music Hall on Saturday. He paused briefly to let the applause fill an appropriate amount of space and added, “This next song is about a dead person.”

There may have been some intentional, practiced irony at play, but the space between those two statements is the key to everything that is great about the Drums. Sure, Pierce has one of the most perfect, near angelic voices in pop music – witness enraptured fans, hands out toward the stage, looking for a hold – but more importantly, he also has one of the best deadpans.

When he’s performing, his facial expressions vary more in intensity than emotion. If you catch him smiling, it’s inward. Happy? Sad? Blah. When the band is playing bright, uptempo, yet often melancholic music, and the lyrics send conflicting cues on how to feel, the singer seems careful to pivot just right, not tip his hand.

After singing “Book of Revelation” off of the recent album Portamento, which includes the lines “I’ve seen the world and there’s no Heaven and no Hell” and “I believe when we die we die, so let me love you tonight,” Pierce said, “That last song was really important to me, so to hear you guys singing that…thank you.”

On stage, The Drums* won’t tell you how to feel about typical pop topics like love and heartbreak anymore than less typical ones like, say, being an atheist and having an existential crisis, but Pierce is seemingly happy to show what you can do in the mean time, as he’s otherwise constantly moving about the stage, calmly dancing with his own confusion.

Openers: Part Time recalled a less drugged out (or just more doobied) version of Ariel Pink, but that may have just been the lead singer’s technicolor dream coat. Also on the style watch, the drummer looked like one of Biff’s lackeys in Back to the Future (but that may have just been the glasses.)

Craft Spells’ Justin Paul Vallesteros gave a shout out to Stockton, where he started the band before relocating to Seattle. Someone in the crowd said he’d “discovered the band last year, and it turned out to be the perfect summer soundtrack.” Based on the way that the intro to “After the Moment” – from last year’s “Idle Labor” – was recognized with cheers, he wasn’t the only one that feeling that way. And given how well new tracks “Warmth” and “Still Left With Me” were live, it could be the soundtrack for this summer as well.

*Truth is the whole band has deadpan solidarity, particularly co-founder Jacob Graham who, whether playing keys or conducting a bank of analog synth – as he did for the encore opener “Searching for Heaven” – has an ever-present, captivating stillness.

Live Shots: Black Moth Super Rainbow, Lumerians, Gramatik at 1015 Folsom

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Fans of intentionally reclusive rock group Black Moth Super Rainbow had the opportunity to catch the Pittsburgh, Pa.-based band at 1015 Folsom on Friday. The code-named members initially struggled in the performance, partly distracted by projector technical difficulties, but also trying to overcome an awkward lineup.

The best shows I’ve seen at at 1015 and conjoined sister club 103 Harriet have made good use of the main room’s set-up, alternating between the stage on one side of the room and the DJ booth on the other, keeping the wait time between acts to a minimum. That sort of seamless club flow is pretty essential for jockeys and electronic acts, but not always possible with bands. Since the lineup for the night was mixed and the booth may have been needed for sound engineers, a little lag for set-up was forgivable.*

But what wasn’t so forgivable, was the placement of Zackey Force Funk. Splitting time between tuning up tracks on his laptop and emcee-ing, ZFF’s performance went down like sitting on a friend’s couch while they share their latest iTunes downloads – Flying Lotus, Lazer Sword, Jonwanye – and proceed to mime along and drink Heineken.

If it has a place, it’s as an extremely chill warm-up or as part of a larger group, but not following two bands like Pictorials and Lumerians. Especially since the latter – with a percussive kineticism and vibrant psych tint – could have been a fine lead in to the main act.

As its set progressed, BMSR, with a somewhat lackadaisical air, built gradually into a rhythm. It never strayed too far from subdued, vocoded vocals against consistent, slow crashing beats, peaking on the oddly inviting “Sun Lips” from Dandelion Gum.

It seemed to do the job for the crowd, manifesting in extremely calm mosh pits and a few stage divers, one of whom – ouch – went straight to the floor. (Remember to look before you leap.)

I’d been curious what Gramatik would do to close out the night. The producer’s latest EP on Pretty Lights Music, #digitalfreedom, features an expansive sound, complete with forays into Bassnectar-like ADHD beats, but nothing that I imagined gelling with BMSR.

There was little sense of urgency, but Gramatik, accompanied by a guitarist, seemed to essentially disregard what came before, getting into a hard set that was light on overused drops and heavy on soul hooks. It was probably the best plan. The crowd had thinned between sets, and the bar was closed by that point, but as the set went on, the dancers, who may have been waiting all along, trickled back into the main room.

*No machine is 100% efficient, but some of the heat, otherwise lost, can still be used to do work.

Live Shots: Avital tours Mission District food hotspots

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Photos by: Bowerbird Photography

It was 11:30am on a Saturday morning, and we were tipping back salty oysters and chasing them down with sweet pink rhubarb cocktail, and then, just because pig meat tastes so good, ate some wonderfully cured, sliced Southern ham. The day was off to a great start and just kept getting tastier as our little posse made its way through the Mission, led by our knowledgeable and ebullient guide, Avital of Avital Tours.

She described her name as sounding like “Advil” and “Tylenol” mixed together, perhaps also hinting of the hangover and pharmaceutical cure we might need unless we paced ourselves on the drinks. Avital organizes food and wine tours in San Francisco, and specializes in discovering special local eateries that may be off an SF local’s radar.

There was a little of everything on the tour: local cuisine, history, talks by the chefs or restaurant owners, and even a little hands-on cooking stuffing mini meat pastries. Avital is an expert at pairing foods and balancing the tasting options. A super-energizing coffee sampling came at a perfect time, providing a needed lift after the morning cocktail and a delicious beer and cheese adventure.

As we meandered through the streets, Avital narrated our journey with interesting anecdotes about the history of the neighborhoods and murals that decorate the Mission, giving even me, a native San Franciscan, some insight into the neighborhood. The tour ended with ice cream sandwiches on the steps of Mission High, looking out over the Cinco de Mayo celebrations in Dolores Park.

We climbed to the top of those steps after our three-hour culinary adventure, and felt a sense of accomplishment not unlike how hikers feel after reaching the summit of a mountain. Eating and drinking ourselves silly takes work, and we felt perfectly contented to just sit there, loosen our belts, and soak in the sunbeams. What a nommy day!

 

Little City Gardens in bloom

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Photos by Bowerbird Photography

“This is a secret magic place in the city,” said Bonnie, a volunteer at Little City Gardens. She crouched over a bed of orange and yellow marigolds, lovingly forming them into golden bouquets.

After tromping around the one acre farm, made up of several city lots and surrounded by family homes, Sam Love and I could tell that, yes, this was a magic place. There were watchful birds, gigantic bees, plump artichokes, and baby chives growing under tents shaped by old bike tire frames.

I got the owners of the garden, Brooke and Caitlyn, to stop in front of their adorable handcrafted greenhouse for a portrait together before they hurried off to continue snipping salad greens. It was a busy day at the garden because they had to finish harvesting in time for that evening’s farmers’ market in the Mission. Can’t get fresher than that!

In addition to selling produce at the market, the Little City Garden distributes CSA boxes and supplies local restaurants with incredibly local greens. Brooke and Caitlyn describe what they’re doing as an agriculture experiment to see if it’s possible for two people to eke a living off a little farm in the big city. Transforming a vacant lot into a thriving vegetable garden takes time, ingenuity and lots of hard work (not to mention a green thumb), but when the result is the thriving and vibrant Little City Gardens, it seems well worth the effort. Imagine if every city block had its own urban garden and all your neighbors could get their salad greens from just around the corner. A beautiful dream that Little City Gardens will hopefully make just a little more possible for all of us.

Live Shots: Lulacruza at Red Poppy Art House

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After Latin American duo Lulacruza finished playing their opening piece last Saturday, the entire, sardine-packed Red Poppy Art House fell totally silent. It wasn’t that the audience didn’t like the music, it was that everyone was in a trance. Seriously, in some sort of hypnotized bliss.

That’s what happens when you hear Lulacruza live, as they mixes traditional South American instruments, electro-beats, and nature sounds, in songs that sometimes last more than six minutes, to create mesmerizing music.

The musicians, Alejandra and Luis, also made the space sacred before they performed, “washing” themselves clean in burning sage and dangling feathers from their microphones. Their ability to combine electronic drum machines and the Colombian cuatro is enchanting — and downright sexy.

 

Live Shots: Childish Gambino and Danny Brown at the Fox

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It can be hard to take comedians and comic actors seriously as musicians. Particularly when you consider the questions posed by earlier models. Did Eddie Murphy’s girl really want to party all the time? (And if so, why didn’t he?)

In his last few albums as Childish Gambino, Donald Glover, the writer-actor best known for portraying lovable goof Troy Barnes on NBC’s cult sitcom Community, has combated the typical skepticism with a self-aware, post-Kanye confessional style of hip-hop. His show at the Fox in Oakland last Thursday made it clear that no matter how funny Childish Gambino’s lyrics are, as a performer, he’s serious.

Glover’s opener for the night was Detroit’s Danny Brown, whose latest release on Fool’s Gold Records, XXX, has been billed as an obscene concept album. It’s not the most thought-out idea, though, and lacking the inventiveness of concepts like Deltron 3030, Madvillainy, or Dr. Octagonecologyst, it seems more of an excuse to revive a 2 Live Crew Style of hedonism. (A common topic for Brown is eating pussy, and the MC, amusingly, has a habit of sticking his tongue out for emphasis.)

There’s definitely a perverse humor at work, but with lyrics like “Fuck bitches like AIDS don’t exist, I’m a young ruthless nigga on some Eazy-E shit,” your mileage may vary.

As with OFWGKTA, it can be hard to tell where the joke begins and ends, and as Brown’s DJ repeatedly played a “Swag!” vocal sample, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was done ironically. But Brown’s voice – like a strange hybrid of Dr. Octagon and Larry Blackmon – has a unique trill to it and an appealing cadence, and from the start of his set there were noticeably quite a few people in the front row mouthing along and shaking the floor boards like they didn’t give a fuck.*

Brown finished his set noticeably tired, which is understandable, since the Fox is a large venue for a solo rapper to energize. At one point I had the same concern with Childish Gambino, but Glover was backed by an impressive band.**

It wasn’t a surprise, as my expectation had been primed from videos of the first week of Coachella, where Glover gave a lively, physical performance despite wearing a large black boot on one leg, stemming from a fractured foot that caused him to cancel performances earlier in the year.

At the Fox there was no boot in sight, and Glover appeared entirely unburdened, bounding around the stage, breaking out a silly step between verses, and generally hyping the crowd up as he split his time performing tracks mainly from last year’s Camp and 2010’s Cul-de-sac, with a confidence that seemed well beyond the few tours he had under his belt.

Combined with a slick stage production – consisting of some minimal pup-tent/tree decorations and well timed, follow-along visuals – Glover seemed entirely in control of the show, which managed to come off as intimate and sincere. If it is a joke, I get it.

Setlist:
-Outside
-Fire Fly
-Freaks and Geeks
-Do Ya Like
-Backpackers
-I’m On It
-I Be On That
-Rolling in the Deep (Adele cover/John Legend version)
-All The Shine
-LES
-Heartbeat
-You See Me
-Bonfire
-Sunrise
Encore
(Freestyles)
-That Power
-Lights Turned On

*Although, one of the guys that seemed to know all the lyrics was also wearing a Davy Crockett coonskin cap. So there’s that.
**One of the members – alternating between keys, guitar, and violin – looked particularly familiar, until I recognized him as the impressively talented Ray Suen, who performed with the Flaming Lips at Bimbo’s.

Live Shots: Refused and the Hives at the Warfield

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Photographer Charles Russo shot Refused and the Hives at the Warfield. 

It took 14 years to happen, but the sweaty, sold-out, packed-to-the-rafters crowd at the Refused concert Wednesday night would tell you it was worth the wait.

Playing the Warfield at the top of supercharged sets by the Bronx and the Hives, Refused took to its old noise with new moxy, setting the dedicated crowd into a frenzy with favorites like “Refused are Fucking Dead” and “Liberation Frequency.” By the time the Swedish hardcore group got to “New Noise” the band had vaulted well beyond even the epic expectations put on them last night. Can they scream? Yes, yes they can.

Laksa and lemongrass: a tasty Malaysian cooking class

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Azalina was all smiles. Originally from Malaysia, this spunky chef is now part of the incubator cooking program at La Cocina. He taught a Malaysian street food cooking class this week, which Sam Love and I felt very lucky to be a part of. We visited Malaysia a few years ago and fell in love with the wonderful street food that filled each and every corner with exotic smells. As soon as we entered the kitchen at La Cocina, those smells came right at us — garlic, ginger, chilies, and lemongrass ready to be chopped and roasted and blended into our evening meal.

We spent a large part of the class learning how to make fresh wheat noodles to put in laksa soup, dyed a beautiful orange color with turmeric. Everyone got a turn at rolling and slicing the noodles into thin strips, which were then placed into little mounds that looked like upside-down bird nests. Malaysian food is influenced by Chinese and Indian cooking, while still keeping its own distinctive cooking techniques using caramelized shrimp in palm sugar and garnishing the soup with deep fried tempeh. If you didn’t get a chance to make it to the class, Azalina sells her Malay food products at Bi-Rite (like her amazing coconut jam, which we got to try, drizzled atop fried banana fritters) and she’s also whipping up Malaysian street food every Friday night at Fort Mason for Off the Grid.

Coachella Day 3: The Weeknd of Hives and Justice

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All photos by Eric Lynch.

Bears, bloggers and bands, oh my.  Sunday indeed brought sun, by mid afternoon all the good shadows were occupied — the lengths of tree shadows, behind garbage cans, and next to the churro stand. I arrived just as the largest crowd yet was dissipating from Santigold.  

Schoolmarms, Real Estate did nothing to upset our expectations with their “variations on a single theme” set.  Sweet and predictable, like watching old episodes of I Love Lucy to help you sleep — you don’t have to see what’s going to happen, because you already know and everything’s going to be OK.  

The Weeknd captivated with a solid and lively performance. Good stuff.

The Hives were a trip for me. Three songs in the photo pit and I got pushed, trampled, and shoved so many times by photogs trying to get “the shot,” I just kept thinking, “What is this guy, Kanye or something?” I mean c’mon. But Pelle Almqvist was this photographer’s dream. Jumping over the first two pits, climbing on speakers, throwing his mike while doing jumps. These guys were 1920s street buskers with trampolines, and believe me, I was buying.

If Radiohead had their wall of recyclable plastic bottles, then French duo, Justice had their wall of Marshall ’60s speakers-cum-light modulators.  If there’s that many knobs on the front of their set, what the hell is going on on the side? From wherever they conjure those sounds, this Justice-novice is glad the facade is not broken.  

Coachella Day 2: All about Azealia (and Radiohead)

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All photos by Eric Lynch

If Friday was about the weather and a few stellar performances, Saturday was all about the music. Larger, happier crowds with pants rolled higher and enthusiasm to match.

Azealia Banks broke it down 1980s style for what she said was her largest crowd ever.  Love the nails Azelia!

Annie Clark, aka St. Vincent, belted it out soon after the sun went down and managed to change guitars four times. 

There were so many Radiofans camped out at the Coachella Stage during the Shins I wondered if SBTRKT could host a nice crew. But the Gobi Tent was bursting with amped Gen Zeders ready for one of the funner performances of the day.

And then Radiohead‘s polished master stroke hypnotized the willing. I couldn’t get over Thom’s wall of recycled plastic bottles reinvented as a 30-foot-high light wall. 

Coachella Day 1: Girls, EMA, WU LYF, Mazzy Star, Pulp, more

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All photos by Eric Lynch

I guess the story of the first day was the weather. Everyone checking their iPhones for what time the rain would begin.  And it eventually came, not SF rain, but a startling event none the less for Coachella.

Intermittent showers and sprinkles throughout the day (after 4:30 ish). Fans got creative using garbage bags or just ignored it altogether, in their hipster finery.  By the end of the day there were shivering shirtless Coachella bros everywhere.  

M83 was astounding. They were a definite crowd favorite. 

I almost peed my pants leaning on the speakers in front of Amon Tobin ISAM.

There were a lot of crabby people for Mazzy Star (too quiet, no lights, plus rain equals crabby twenty somethings who have no idea really who Hope Sandoval is and seemed unwilling to give her a chance.)

While I think Pulp is old news, Jarvis Cocker really brought out the camp and strutted the stage like he meant it. 

WU LYF: simple clean and unpretentious as one can be with an affected voice like that.

Girls are not very photogenic but the crowd was wild for them. The three background singers brought it up a notch.

 

Live Shots: Melvins at Great American Music Hall, 04/12/2012

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Though the lightning storm delayed my +1 who was coming in from California’s stoney north coast, we arrived at the Great American Music Hall just in time to see the sludgy gods take the stage. Charging through every era of their deep and never-sucking catalog, Buzz and Co. were breaking necks from front to back. They closed out with Coady Willis and Dale Crover trading 8’s, then 4’s, then 2’s, before standing on their stools and striking a pose like the gladiators they are (filling in for Unsane’s Vinnie Signorelli, who was hospitalized). (Matthew Reamer)

For more on the Melvins go to Emily Savage’s interview with King Buzzo.

Live Shots: Radiohead at HP Pavilion, 04/11/2012

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The first time I saw Radiohead, it was opening up for Belly, back when “Creep” was an exquisite oddball of a radio hit.

Actually, it wasn’t so much opening for Belly as it was a double bill, but Radiohead played first and Thom Yorke had a platinum rock star hairdo and the band was touring on an unspectacular album with a title gleaned from a Jerky Boy’s joke.

None of it seemed to hint much towards a band on the cusp of becoming an audio force of nature for the coming decades. Even still, by the time it finished its set with “Stop Whispering,” Radiohead had worked the crowd into a tidy frenzy.

Playing the HP Pavilion in San Jose on Wednesday night, it showcased the full range of its music since: an amazingly dynamic body of work – from the Bends to the new track “Identikit” – which gave sonic testimony to Radiohead’s outlier longevity from the grungy but fertile musical era from which it sprang.

Working through nearly two-dozen songs beneath a pulsing onslaught of color and video, it rendered a high-energy performance from an eclectic setlist that was at once a gem for fanatics and a thrill for the casual fans that they dragged along.

From the get-go, Thom Yorke was all king of limbs as he wriggle-danced his way through beat-heavy tracks like “15 Step” and the “Gloaming,” before eventually settling into the larger vocal parts of a stripped-down “Reckoner” and an amped-up “Daily Mail.”

Talkative and punchy-as-expected, Yorke dedicated the Amnesiac-era b-side “The Amazing Sounds of Orgy” to the players of the economic meltdown and the “Silicon Valley bullshit” that factored into it. Here, the band played to other local forces, as it nestled into the aberrant niche between Primus and Tom Waits, equally eerie and menacing.

It was this darker end of their spectrum that provided some of the night’s standout moments, from the four-drummer assault of “There There” to the infectious pulse of “Myxomatosis.” However the best of the bunch may have been the hefty moodiness of “Climbing Up the Walls,” an OK Computer favorite that soon gave way to “Karma Police.”

The encores, in particular, were likely to provide fans with hours of chat-room fodder, as the band dusted off some rare live takes on “I Might Be Wrong” and “Planet Telex,” before ending the night with a ferocious version of “Idioteque.”

Poised to play Coachella this coming weekend, Radiohead appears in fine fighting form to somehow top its near-legendary 2004 performance. And that’s just the thing with where it’s at these days: for all that can be said about what it has done over the past 20 years, Radiohead still has a knack to leave you excited for what’s next.

Setlist
Bloom
15 Step
Morning Mr. Magpie
Kid A
Staircase
The Gloaming
The National Anthem
The Amazing Sounds of Orgy
Climbing up the Walls
Karma Police
Identikit
Lotus Flower
There There
Feral
Little By Little
Reckoner

Separator
I Might Be Wrong
Myxomatosis
Everything in its Right Place

The Daily Mail
Planet Telex
Idioteque

 

All photos by Charles Russo.

Different galaxies of hip-hop at Paid Dues

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Under the sweltering San Bernardino sun this past Saturday, more than 40 artists came together to pay homage to hip-hop at the Paid Dues Festival.

Odd Future grilled raw meat on stage, intermittently lighting the bloody slab with a cucumber–sized blunt. Tyler the Creator sputtered out dribbles of water in between his lines — casually yet methodically, right as the camera appeared — making one wonder if there really is a synchronized reasoning behind the madness. Moments later, he leaped off the stage and sailed deep in to the moshing crowd, which accepted the Goblin with elation.  


On the other side of the festival — which felt like a completely different galaxy — Brother Ali captured the roots of spoken word hip-hop, performing a refreshingly simple set on an empty stage with just his DJ spinning behind him. Contrasting this profoundly tranquil execution was the whirlwind energy of Three 6 Mafia, which jumped from one side of the stage to the other, arms swaggering, voice booming, and collars popping.

Hip-hop has gone through many cycles since its origins as a social and political outlet for underrepresented minorities, and the sheer diversity of the performers at Paid Dues Festival showed just how broad the genre has become.

During a Guardian interview, Los Rakas member Raka Dun explained that he views the creation of subgenres within hip-hop as a “progressive evolution,” comparing Drake’s “R&B hip-hop” to Odd Future’s “punk rap” as merely a stylistic difference. Raka Rich, the second member of the Panamanian duo, added “that hip-hop has always been about expressing yourself, so you can’t tell someone that their music is or isn’t hip-hop.” 

DJ Paul of Three 6 Mafia agreed that the growth of hip-hop is a positive development, yet admitted that the genre has lost some of its vigor. He holds politics responsible, stating that “hip-hop used to be harder back in the day, but the government wanted the world to be in peace, so they made the music be more in peace.”

Thes One of People Under the Stairs says corporations are at fault for taking critical substance out of mainstream hip-hop, as “music is a lot more marketable when you don’t have to cosign a message.” Double K (also of People Under the Stairs) feels that young people do not have the same insightful experience listening to music anymore. “In school, we were taught the same lesson on Martin Luther King Jr. year after year, but it was from hip-hop that we learned about people like Marcus Garvey and H. Rap Brown,” he added.

The role of women — specifically the rise of female MCs — is significantly influential in how the current road of hip-hop is being paved. Nicki Minaj, although nowhere in the Nos Event Center’s vicinity, was a looming presence throughout the night. The general consensus over the self-proclaimed Black Barbie was that she has undeniable talent, but there were contrasting opinions on how extensively her sex appeal influenced her success.

The members of Hieroglyphics said they feel the issue of sex in music should not be marginalized to a gender issue, as “the industry as a whole is exploiting sex to promote music.” The crew contemplated over whether you have to be as visually appealing as Minaj for people to appreciate your talents — finding it ironic that a lot of artists are actually unwilling to give her credit for her lyricism because of her overt sexuality.

There was a collective nostalgia over non-pink-wigged women rappers the artists grew up listening to — such as Queen Latifah and Ice Cream Tee — who rapped wearing just a hoodie and baggy jeans.  As essential as it is to have prominent women that the female audience can identify with, artists questioned if current women MCs were truly communicating a positive message to young girls.

Luckyiam of Living Legends gave a final word of advice for all burgeoning artists bedroom producers, regardless of gender:

“When I lived in East Oakland, I thought there was a glass ceiling there. Now, with the Web, there’s no reason you can’t get your content out there. But don’t just be Tumblr famous. Go out to the streets or in the clubs, and pay your dues. And stop rapping over your vocals and wear some looser fitting jeans.”

GWAR honors deceased guitarist’s return to the home planet

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Those sleazy, salacious scumdogs of the universe in GWAR wasted no time in unleashing their riotous brand of musical mayhem on Friday night before a packed audience at the Regency Ballroom, with fake blood spraying and splattering the audience as quickly as the first notes came screaming out of the amplifiers.

Singer Oderus Urungus strode out onto the stage wearing his usual wardrobe of outrageously oversized armor and tattered fishnets. While the rest of the band began taking their positions, the band leader and a cloaked figure began miming to the first hapless victim of the impending carnival of carnage, a creature holding a document that read “Deed To The Castle.”

With loud encouragement from the audience — which had already been whipped into a frenzy from an excellent opening set by Bay Area favorites Ghoul — a sword was produced, and with a mighty swing from Oderus, the blood started squirting from the decapitated freak, who ambled about the stage, drenching everything and everybody, as GWAR launched into its first song.

From then on, it was the always entertaining live show from GWAR that fans have come to expect after more than 25 years of trashing venues and leaving concertgoers covered in every manner of fake bodily fluid imaginable — some kids even wore homemade shirts, taking a plain white tee, writing the words “GWAR 4/6/12” in pen, and coming out with a custom gory tie dye job and beaming smiles.

The only people who didn’t look like they were having a blast were, of course, the helpless security guards in front of the stage, who were all wearing rain gear, and had to deal with untold gallons of fake blood raining down on them in addition to the crowd surfing kids coming over the barricades, and the passed out girl who had to be carried out from the front barely five minutes into the set.

The theatrical terror ended its regular set with the signature sing-along song, “Sick Of You” before coming back out for an encore that paid tribute to departed bandmate, Corey Smoot, aka Flattus Maximus, who died last November while on tour with the group (GWAR had to cancel its last scheduled Bay Appearance as it fell during Smoot’s memorial service).

With Smoot’s custom Schecter guitar placed upon the top of an amp stack, lit by a white spotlight, Dave Brockie —  aka Oderus — introduced the last song, “The Road Behind,” by telling the crowd that one of GWAR’s members was called back to the home planet.

Amid all of the prosthetic pandemonium and controlled chaos, it was probably the most appropriate way to deal with their grief, and to honor a real human being, friend, and bandmate. Seeing Smoot’s guitar sitting alone, while the surviving members of the group performed around it, actually made for a touching moment, something that has to be an exceedingly rare event in the sordid history of the band — but yet another example of how GWAR is still the best at what it does.

Live Shots: ‘Fart of Gold,’ Home Theater Festival

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“Make sure to get a spot towards the back of the room,” I told Sam Love as we made our way to Dana Street Theater on Berkeley. “Philip’s shows often involve things and sometimes liquids flying.” And I was right. There was some definite yam peeling, neti-pot-pouring, and chair-flying moments sprinkled throughout the show. Did I mention that we were in Philip’s bedroom?

“That’s the whole point, honey!” Philip told me.

The Home Theater Festival is an opportunity for actors and artists to perform and showcase their work, including GOLDIE winner Philip Huang’s “Fart of Gold” — and it’s all done from the comfort of their own home. Now in its third year, the Home Theater Festival concept has taken off as an alternative for performers who can’t afford a professional venue, and is happening all over the world.
 
The evening started with some seriously hilarious story telling by Cassandra Gorgeous (the topic was really too intimate to talk about… go see her perform yourself!), followed by Philip and his director, Theo Knox, taking us through an evening of mini-shows, ranging from alien-butoh to a dance performance by a character with limited arm movement, at which point the dude sitting next to me exclaimed, “Boy, this is soo uncomfortable to watch,” as tears of joy streamed down his face.
 
The Home Theater Festival runs until June 3rd, and “Fart of Gold” runs Friday and Saturday night. Don’t miss the weirdness. It’s good for you.

Live Shots: Howler and the Static Jacks at Hemlock

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Minneapolis’s Howler paused midway between playing songs from its debut album, America Give Up, to take requests from the audience at the Hemlock Tavern Saturday night. There were a few out of nowhere shout-outs, like “White Rabbit,” but the majority of the suggestions were titles by the Strokes.

On hearing the two bands it’s an obvious comparison, although for Howler perhaps an increasingly tiresome one, especially since singer Jordan Gatesmith seemed bored with the selections and quickly returned to the regularly scheduled program, saying “We’ll just play it safe tonight.”

The irony, though, was that if someone wanted to hear the Strokes’ “The Modern Age,” Howler’s opening track of the night, “Wailing (Making Out)”, already came pretty damn close. These comparisons should be taken as complimentary, for as much as the band seems to be borrowing at this still early in its career — and I also pick up heavy touches of the Replacements* — its doing it well, whether in the restrained guitar work or Gatesmith’s deeply droll, resonant voice, that carries each song with crystal clear lyrics, even during a live performance.

Which wasn’t the case with New Jersey’s the Static Jacks, which, despite actually being the most energetic band of the night, seemed to have it directed in strange directions. I’d been a little puzzled watching the band set-up, spending as much time getting its gear in order as arranging some cardboard art with female caricatures, only to knock the pieces down and step on them once the performance began.

It was only later on that I found out the posters had some actual function, as the singer would occasionally pick up a board — with the word “Follow”, coinciding with the song “Into the Sun,” for instance — to apparently subtitle and highlight some generally muddled and indistinct vocals. 

*My request for “Bastards of Young” was also ignored.

Gay-la time: LGBT Center’s annual ‘Soiree’ gets Frenched

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Photos by Bowerbird Photography.
 
There couldn’t have been a better way to escape the dramatic, wet downpour the night of Sat/24 than to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the SF LGBT Community Center at the SF Design Center under the twinkling lights of a “gay Pah-ree” inspired party. (Never was “Paris” pronounced the clunky Anglo way, of course.)

There was amazing food, free-flowing booze, but best of all, crowds of beautiful, happy people, dressed in Parisian splendor (including stilt-walking Eiffel Towers a scruffy French poodle).

Everyone looked fabulous. Really fabulous! The entertainment included a song by the super sweet Honey Mahogany, surreal live decorations courtesy of a walking Matisse painting, a gorgeous half-nude contortionist, and, of course, a coterie of supportive politicians (including Mark Leno), raising their bubbly high to toast the Center on its birthday.

The Center eschewed long speeches to devote the evening to great dancing, beautiful drag performances, and those irresistible old school soul beats of DJ Carnita from Hard French, that lasted far into the evening.

Nite Trax: The fabulous creatures of Gaultier’s opening gala

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Hyperproductive fashion designer and revered fantasy engineer Jean Paul Gaultier was in town last week for the opening of a (very cool) retrospective of his work at the de Young. His nightlife stops included the Some Thing drag show at the Stud on Friday, a cruisy interlude at the Powerhouse on Saturday — and of course a lavish opening gala celebration at the de Young itself on Friday evening.

The fantastic function included an exposed “backstage” area where models were fitted into Gaultier pret-a-porter, primped, temporary-tattooed, and hairdressed with amazing sculptural headpieces by SF’s Glama-Rama salon, before trotting out onto a makeshift runway. Attendees — not all of them our city’s social page elite, btw — wore their most unusual outfits. (There were a lot of sailor stripes, man-skirts, and Gaultier looks from the past three decades.) Even the servers were decked out in handmade kaleidoscopic Krylon smocks by graffiti gallery 1:AM. Tunes from the gorgeous, killer-bobbed DJ started out retro-cute and fun, including JPG’s own 1990 dancefloor hit, “How To Do That” before devolving into the standard party jams of today, which certainly got the singles (cougars) in the crowd “puttin’ their hands up.” It was a blast.  

Soon the raucous and always riveting Extra Action Marching Band took over, the flowing cocktails kicked in, and we drifted down to the exhibit itself, which includes eerie singing mannequins with projected faces beamed in directly from Uncanny Valley. (There’s even an interactive one of Gaultier himself, which supposedly answers questions, although I think the ambient noise levelof the gala confused it.)

The amassed collection of clothing and concepts, of course, was overwhelming in its creativity and development — although I could have done with a few more iconic items from the “Chic Rabbis” 1993 collection (personal preference!) and some more recent work, and perhaps a wee bit less emphasis on the infamous Madonna-cone bra connection. But I did tear up at the site of Gaultier’s childhood teddy bear preserved in a vitrine wearing, yes, a miniature cone bra prototype.

I think the most touching thing in the show, however, was a Polaroid by Andy Warhol, taken of the young and not quite hatched Gaultier at New York’s Area club in 1986. Gaultier is caught in a stairwell, a bit Joker-like in what looks to be a purple silk suit with a gold lozenge pattern and his trademark bleached blonde hair. It’s accompanied by Warhol’s famous quote, ““I think the way people dress today is a form of artistic expression. Saint Laurent, for instance, has made great art. Art lies in the way the whole outfit is put together. Take Jean Paul Gaultier. What he does is really art.”                

Making burrata cheese with the Milk Maid

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As a little girl, I used to walk by a cheese shop in the neighborhood, flare my nostrils and exclaim “One day I want to work in a cheese shop.” That funky, musty fragrance has an intoxicating draw for me and always will. My one-month stint as a vegan in college failed only because I missed cheese too much. I still haven’t worked in a cheese shop, but when I heard about the cheese making classes with the Milk Maid, I just knew I had to go!


The Milk Maid, aka Louella Hill, is brimming with information and love for cheese. She has studied cheese making in Italy and across the East Coast and is currently working on a book about cheese making in her San Francisco home, which is jam-packed with all things moldy and milky.

The cheese class was held at an outdoor kitchen in the Ferry Building. We learned how to make burrata, a fresh, Italian-style cheese made of mozzarella and stuffed with a variety of creams, from thick cultured cream to sweet mascarpone. The process of making burrata involves melting fresh curd, forming a ball and then quickly stuffing it with cream. Sounds pretty simple, but it actually requires a lot of attention, speed, and probably years of practice. Luckily, everyone was just having too much fun to care about getting it perfect. When “mistakes” happened, they usually just ended up getting eaten. No great loss there.

After an hour of melting, pulling and stuffing, the Milk Maid sent us on a our way, but not without a slice of a gigantic moldy block of cheese that she was trying to get off her hands, and fixings to make more burrata in our own kitchens. On the very crowded bus ride home, I could smell the essence of gym-socks and super funk wafting up from my bag of goodies. I’m sure my commuter buddies were loving it. I sure was!

Live Shots: Bonaparte at Public Works

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I felt a little bad about leaving one of my friends by himself, while I squeezed around snapping photos of Berlin’s Bonaparte last night at Public Works. He lives in Concord, works in a meat department, likes hunting and riding dirtbikes. Which is to say, our interests don’t necessarily overlap. He refers to the last show I took him to – Bear in Heaven at Rickshaw Stop – as “the Ron Burgandy band,” for obvious reasons that continue to elude me.

Bringing him to Bonaparte was partly a joke, in the same way we went to that vegan soul food restaurant (Ed. note – Souley Vegan) but I didn’t tell him until the last minute. Just to get a reaction. After Bonaparte’s first few songs I found him in the center of the crowd and checked in. “It’s kind of weird,” he said.

As far as understatements go, that one was adorably charming. While Bonaparte’s music is relatively straightforward, its performance is not. To start the show, Tobias Jundt ambled around the crowd in Public Works, wearing a faux-tribal pygmy* headdress straight off a SBTRKT album cover, eventually picking up his guitar as if it were a Coca-Cola bottle that fell from the sky or some other entirely foreign object.

When it came time to speak, he yelled one of the band’s catch phrases into the mic: “Are you ready to party with the Bone-a-party!” The crowd cheered, but not loud enough, and he gave it a few more shots. There was no real warm up band, so the cliche “I can’t hear you!” routine was probably appropriate, but in any case, that was the only contrivance of the night, as the band proceeded to follow surprise with shock throughout its set, supported by a revolving cast of characters including…well…that’s what pictures are for (see above gallery).

But don’t be misled, the theatrics weren’t there to distract from subpar music. These punks create eclectic, danceable rock that’s immediately catchy, particularly because Jundt has an ability to fuse familiar concepts with a fresh edge. “I wanna shoot my ego down,” he sang, and I copied those lyrics on paper, followed by the word “cover,” assuming it to be just that. But as far as I can tell (and I may be wrong,) the familiarity is just liberal bits of Hendrix and Wingfield, with some Freud slipped in to make an original classic.

The insane eye candy on stage (popping marshmallows, lollipops, and fruit into audience members’ mouths, stage diving unannounced, and inventing all sorts of new fetishes) during the show was mostly an extremely appreciated bonus.

On “Fly a Plane Into Me” – a desperately romantic kamikaze come-on of a song – the band kept the energy level way, way up, unaccompanied by the additional clowning, vamping circus members. Although, there probably wasn’t anything special or austere about that tune; it’s more likely that was an opportune time for rest of the crew to switch costumes, get the electrical tape pasties just right, and refill their mouths with fake blood.

*It wasn’t until after the show, seeing the diminutive rocker off stage, that the Napoleon connection – at least height-wise – made sense.