Music Festival

Our Weekly Picks: February 22-27

-
0

WEDNESDAY 22

Way Behind the Music

Famous rockers may have a way with riffs, but their grammar and syntax can often prove cringe-worthy. And yet, their inflated egos and turmoil-filled musings within literary efforts provide insight into worlds otherwise unknown. This, my friends, is the perfect set-up for an evening of music obsessed over-sharing. At the return of Litquake and Noise Pop’s collaborative event, Way Behind the Music, a collection of esteemed local musicians and writers will read from the autobiographies of Ozzy Osbourne, Sammy Hagar, Jewel, Slash, Ted Nugent, Marianne Faithfull, Angela Bowie, Jim Hutton (boyfriend of Freddie Mercury), and Christopher Ciccone (brother of Madonna). The group on stage — which includes Penelope Houston, Carletta Sue Kay, Jennifer Maerz, and more — will extract tales of Olympic-level drug use, epic bands fights, and rock star trials and tribulations, giving the audience just a taste of that wild ride to infamy. (Emily Savage)

7 p.m., $15

Make-Out Room

3225 22nd St., SF

(415) 647-2888

www.makeoutroom.com

 

THURSDAY 23

Big Black Delta

Big Black Delta is the solo project of Los Angeles maestro Jonathan Bates, lead singer of lo-fi rock band Mellowdrone. Legend has it Bates launched BBD after buying a used laptop off frequent Nine Inch Nails collaborator Alessandro Cortini and using it to create electronic soundscapes. Good thing too, because BBDLP1 is a crafty compilation made up of equal parts power and panache. “Huggin & Kissin” sounds so aggressive, it’s as if Depeche Mode’s synths decided to take steroids and beat up little kids. On the flip side, “Dreary Moon” with Morgan Kibby (the Romanovs, M83) has all the ethereal, vocal playfulness of an Air track. Bates brings in dueling drummers Mahsa Zargaran and Amy Wood for the live show. (Kevin Lee)

With New Diplomat, Aaron Axelsen & Nako 9 p.m., $10–<\d>$12 Rickshaw Stop 155 Fell, SF (415) 861-2011 www.rickshawstop.com

 

FRIDAY 24

“More Light”

If you’re up for a dose of reifying pessimism, check out “More Light” —a joint exhibition featuring new works by Francesco Deiana and Lafe Harley Eaves. In an effort to explore how society diverts humans from primordial joys, Deiana creates ballpoint pen drawings and images on photographic paper that juxtapose society’s adulterating tendencies with natural beauty (e.g. a drawing of an impenetrable brick wall flushed with a photograph of the ocean). Eaves, who’s said he views the world as “one dark joke after another,” makes line and pattern narratives that delve into the occult, religion, and the psychedelic. He also focuses on illustrating human duality and the uncertainty of relationships. (Mia Sullivan)

7 p.m. opening reception, free

Park Life

220 Clement, SF

(415) 386-7275

www.parklifestore.com

 

Image Comic Expo

With San Francisco’s WonderCon moving to Anaheim while Moscone Center South undergoes renovation, Image Comic Expo in Oakland is the primary destination for Bay Area comic book nerdery this season. Instead of focusing on Marvel and DC — the comics industry’s “Big Two” — the Expo bills itself as a “celebration of creator-owned comics.” Exhibitors include a number of independent publishers besides Berkeley-based Image Comics. Guests include Image luminaries Rob Liefeld, Todd McFarlane, and Robert Kirkman (The Walking Dead), plus fan favorites Jonathan Hickman (FF, Pax Romana), Joe Casey (Gødland), Brian K. Vaughan (Y: The Last Man, ABC’s Lost) and Blair Butler. (Sam Stander)

Fri/24, 3-8 p.m.; Sat/25, 10 a.m.-6 p.m.; Sun/26, 10 a.m.-5 p.m., $20–$150

Oakland Convention Center 550 10th St., Oakl.

www.imagecomicexpo.com

 

Dave Holland Overtone Quartet

English bassist Dave Holland came to the United States at the request of the legendary Miles Davis and became part of music lore as part of the quartet that birthed jazz fusion and its opus, Bitches Brew (Columbia). Holland has since worked with a number of jazz masters including Herbie Hancock, Stan Getz, Thelonious Monk and Chick Corea. When Holland was coming into his own as a musician in the 1970s, the rest of the Overtone Quartet were just entering into the world. But saxophonist Chris Potter (a frequent Holland collaborator), drummer Eric Harland (a SFJazz Collective performer) and pianist Jason Moran (a MacArthur Fellowship “Genius”) have established themselves as potent forces in their own right. (Lee)

8 p.m., $25–$65

Palace of Fine Arts

3301 Lyon, SF

(415) 567-6642

www.sfjazz.org

 

“Oracle and Enigma”

For a while, thanks to a series of festivals organized by producer Brechin Flournoy, San Francisco was the place in the country to see Butoh. The excitement and puzzlement surrounding the art has died down as it has simply become another form of international dance. So it should be good to again see one of its original practitioners, the Kyoto-born Katsura Kan who in 1997 moved to Thailand and has since become one of those peripatetic choreographer-dancers who takes inspiration from wherever he alights. As part of his winter residency at CounterPULSE, Kan and Shoshana Green will present “Oracle and Enigma” which they describe as “a journey towards the celestial horizon”. Sounds like Butoh . (Rita Felciano)

Fri/24-Sat/25, 8 p.m., $18–<\d>$20

CounterPULSE

1310 Mission, SF

(800) 350-8850

www.counterpulse.org

 

SATURDAY 25

Monster Jam

A stampede of horsepower comes thundering into the Bay Area today with the Monster Jam series of monster truck races and events, featuring 16 ground-shaking custom creations such as the long-running fan favorite “Grave Digger,” which is celebrating its 30th anniversary this year. Fans can get up close and personal with the burly behemoths during the afternoon “Party In The Pits” before the night’s main events, where the 10,000 pound muscle machines will fly through the air at distances up to 130 feet, reach heights up to 35 feet in the air, and of course, gloriously smash a series a puny regular cars. (Sean McCourt)

3-6 p.m. pit party, 7 p.m. main event; $12.50–<\d>$32, $125 for total access pass

O.co Coliseum

7000 Coliseum Way, Oakl.

(800) 745-3000

www.monsterjam.com

 

“Cum and Glitter: A Live Sex Show”

Perhaps you’re one of those people — that yes, do exist — left nonplussed by your standard strip club experience. Let’s face it, fried chicken buffets and atrocious choreography amplified by glitter platform heels don’t do it for us all. For you, then, queer pornographer Maxine Holloway’s new monthly sex show. Holloway, a vintage-loving local coquette, has bolstered her sex industry chops heading Madison Young’s women’s only POV website and used her connections to line up a crack cast for Cum and Glitter’s opening night: Kitty Stryker, Courtney Trouble, and Annika Amour among other superlative sex workers. Live cello music. Specialty cocktails named after the performers. Class. (Caitlin Donohue)

9 p.m., $30–$55 individuals, $50 couples

RSVP for location

www.cumandglitter.com

 

SUNDAY 26

“Up the Oscars!”

For a particular breed of movie fiend, the Academy Awards are more like a sporting event than a glamorous celebration of Hollywood. You know the type: catcalling the screen like they’re giving a blind ref the business (2006 flashback: “Crash? Are you fucking kidding me? Brokeback Mountain forever!”) This year’s ceremony will no doubt evoke its own array of passionate responses to awkward presenters and awkward gowns, omissions from the Tribute to the Dead, faux-surprised winners who unfurl pre-scripted lists of people to thank (“My agent! My masseuse!”), etc. The Roxie’s annual “Up the Oscars!” bash is aimed squarely at those who enjoy cheering and jeering the gold man in equal measure. D.I.Y. drinking games optional. (Cheryl Eddy)

3:45 p.m., $15

Roxie Theater

3117 16th St., SF

www.roxie.com

 

Stardust Sunday

Cover band? Try cover cult. The First Church of the Sacred Silversexual takes all the Christ allusions David Bowie made with The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars and The Man Who Fell to Earth, exorcising one little bit — Jesus. The resulting mass is a blasphemous celebration of the 65-year-young rock God’s music. With as many members as Bowie has personas, all fully embracing their deity’s love of costume, the Church’s service has the campy theatricality of The Rocky Horror Picture Show and all the sparkle of a Ken Russell movie. (Ryan Prendiville)

With Space Cowboys DJs Mancub and 8Ball

8 p.m., $5

Public Works

161 Erie, SF

(415) 932-0955

www.publicsf.com

 

The Dodos

Listening to the Dodos kind of makes you feel like you’re part of a drum march that’s heading down a sunny country road via Brooklyn. Logan Kroeber, who’s been known to play a drum kit sans bass and to tape a tambourine to his foot, creates catchy rhythms that compel you to dance frenetically (really, it’s unavoidable), while lead vocalist Meric Long finger-picks an acoustic guitar and traverses the octaves with deep, introspective lyrics you can’t help Googling. This San Francisco-based indie folk duo most recently released fourth album, No Color (Frenchkiss) last year, and is closing out Noise Pop this year with what will likely be a memorable performance. (Sullivan)

With Au, Cannons and Clouds, Here Here

7 p.m., $20

Great American Music Hall

859 O’Farrell, SF

(415) 885-0750

www.gamh.com

 

MONDAY 27

Leslie and the LY’s

Long known for her 1980s-esque minimal dance-pop numbers encased in stretchy gold lame (referred to in “Gold Pants”), and even longer for her extensive bejeweled sweater collection (ahem, “Gem Sweater”), Leslie of Leslie and the LY’s boasts a newish additional talent to add to the mix: wedding officiant. The Ames, IA-based confetti-puke performance artist began officiating weddings when Iowa voted yes on gay marriage in 2009. The weddings she oversees are said to twinkle with her typical megawatt star quality — there’s even a documentary about one affair called Married in Spandex — and Mother Gem performs a personalized dance number for each lucky couple. While she may not be hosting any impromptu weddings during her appearance at Rickshaw this week, the world just feels more glamorous knowing that she could (for this, we listen to “Power Cuddle”). (Savage)

With Pennyhawk, Ramona & the Swimsuits

8 p.m., $13

Rickshaw Stop

(415) 861-2011

155 Fell, SF

www.rickshawstop.com

 

TUESDAY 28

Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks

Following 2010’s high profile Pavement reunion tour — which gave fans of the ’90s alternative rockers a chance to see the group live for the first or last time (as well as reportedly giving some of the members funds to pay off some financial debts) — leader Stephen Malkmus returned to the studio with his band the Jicks to record an album with Beck on board as producer. The result, Mirror Traffic, carries over the tour’s energy, and is the closest thing to a Terror Twilight follow-up to date. And as showcased by the Jicks’s all-too-short performance at the last Treasure Island Music Festival, Malkmus remains the slacker king of the nonchalant guitar solo. (Prendiville)

With Nurses

8 p.m., $20

Slim’s

333 11th St., SF

(415) 255-0333

www.slimspresents.com 

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

Noise Pop Photo Retrospective, with Plastic Villains and Cool Ghouls

Tony Robles
-
1
Noise Pop Photo Retrospective, with Plastic Villains and Cool Ghouls

The 20th anniversary of Noise Pop is oh-so-close to upon us. In celebration and commemoration of how far the festival has come, and of the musicians who’ve made Noise Pop a much-anticipated Bay Area tradition, Bottom of the Hill will be hosting a retrospective photo gallery. The exhibit’s opening reception takes place Tues/7 from 6 to 9 p.m. and is free to the public.

Noise Pop producer Stacy Horne says Bottom of the Hill is an ideal home for the Photo Retrospective because the venue just celebrated its own 20th anniversary and has been an important Noise Pop venue throughout the years. (Bottom of the Hill has been hosting Noise Pop shows since 1994.) The gallery will be up in Bottom of the Hill’s back room from tonight through the last day of the festival (Feb. 26) and will include photos of former Noise Pop acts that have since achieved widespread acclaim such as Death Cab for Cutie, The Flaming Lips, and Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. Photographers include Eduardo Acorda, Marlu Aufmuth, Jeanne Ellenby, Peter Ellenby, Charlie Homo, Sheila Menezes, Paige Parsons, Mike Rosati, Julie Schuchard, Shoka Shafiee, Matt Seuferer, and Deb Zeller.

Noise Pop, which began as a nightlong music festival at The Kennel Club (now The Independent) showcasing five bands, has developed into the largest independent music festival in San Francisco. It has also evolved into a comprehensive independent culture event that exposes Bay Area art, film, and design in addition to music. The Noise Pop festival officially kicks off Feb. 21.

In the Noise Pop spirit of exposing the young, up-and-coming, and local acts, performances by Plastic Villains and Cool Ghouls will follow Tuesday’s reception.

Plastic Villains, which formed fewer than six months ago and received “The Deli’s Bay Area Band of the Month Award” in November, is comprised of mostly USF undergrads that practice and record their “psychedelic garage rock blues hop” jams in their garage.

Cool Ghouls, also a San Francisco-based band, describe their sound simply as “rock-n-roll” and attribute the creation of their modern doo-wop goodness to tall cans, 40s, blunts, and crime.

Let the Noise Pop festivities begin.

Noise Pop Photo Retrospective
With Plastic Villains, Cool Ghouls
Tues/7, 6 p.m., free
Bottom of the Hill
1233 17th St., SF
www.bottomofthehill.com

 

 

Burning Man ticket requests far exceed supply

Sasha Cuttler
-
21
Burning Man ticket requests far exceed supply

Burners’ worst fears are about to come true: they’ll be denied tickets to Burning Man when the results of the new lottery-based system are announced on Wednesday. But organizers say if everyone stays calm and relies on their community then they’ll probably still get tickets.

Substantially more people registered for tickets than organizers expected, so much so that they believe burners and their allies ordered way more tickets than they’ll need this year because of concerns about the new ticketing system and the fact that the event sold out early for the first time last year.

“It’s big enough that we believe that all the demand for tickets is not new folks,” Larry Harvey – chair of SF-based Black Rock City LLC, which stages the event – told the Guardian. He refused to say how many people registered for tickets, but the LLC did say each registrant ordered 1.7 tickets, indicating a higher than usual number ordering the maximum of two tickets.

If it’s true that most burners bought more than they needed, that also means there will be lots of tickets circulating through the Burning Man community, so Harvey and fellow board member Marian Goodell are urging everyone to not overreact, don’t buy expensive tickets from scalpers, and take advantage of the LLC’s new aftermarket ticket exchange program that will go online in a few weeks.

“If someone is looking for a ticket, we don’t want them to go to eBay or Craigslist, we want them to turn to their community,” Harvey said. “We think the community is a better distributor than anyone.”

Goodell emphasized that the burner ethos calls for people to only sell tickets for face value – which is $240-390 for the 40,000 tickets going out next week – and she said she believes there will be enough tickets to satisfy demand if people don’t panic and feed the scalpers’ market. Those who don’t follow that advice could also end up with counterfeit tickets, whereas the LLC will verify tickets it swaps.

“The secondary market is the community, and we don’t want people to feel they have a commodity in their hand that will help them make the rent,” she told us. “You’re really hurting your community if you’re treating this like a commodity.”

But the unknown factor is how many ticket buyers are more profit-minded than community-minded, particularly after tickets were selling for almost double-face-value on average after tickets sold out last year, according to a study by SeatGeek. Goodell said only burners can keep the scalpers’ market in check.

“We’re being optimistic, but we were able to get more than 50,000 people to remove their trash [from Black Rock City every year],” Goodell said. “We know we can train people to behave in ways that are more community-minded.”

Many people criticized Burning Man for replacing the usual Internet ticket sales with the lottery system this year, but Harvey and Goodell both said they think the over-registration problem had more to do with tickets selling out last year than the new system.

Still, Harvey told us the transition could have been handled better: “If we had it to do over, we might do some things differently.”

As for whether the new system will end up being OK, Goodell said, “We won’t know how it’s working until we get to the event and see if people are happy.” But in short run, she said, “I’m going to have a lot more unhappy people than I was counting on.”

In addition to managing ticket exchanges through its website, BRC does still have one more ticket sales session planned for March 28, when 10,000 tickets will be sold online in a first come, first served system, like first day sales used to be.

As I chronicle in my book, The Tribes of Burning Man: How an Experimental City in the Desert is Shaping the New American Counterculture, Burning Man has grown from a small gathering on Baker Beach in 1986 to a thriving year-round culture that builds a temporary city of more than 50,000 people in Nevada’s Black Rock Desert in late summer. Burners build the city and its art from scratch with their own resources, almost everything in this gift economy is offered for free, and everyone is encouraged to participate in its creation, enjoyment, and cleanup.

The event doubled in size since I started covered it in 2004, and it has spawned a network of regional events around the world, as well as offshoot organizations such as Black Rock Arts Foundation (which funds and facilitates public art off the playa), Burners Without Borders (which does disaster relief and other good works), and the Burning Man Project (a newly created nonprofit that will take over operations of the event in coming years).

The LLC is currently negotiating with the U.S. Bureau of Land Management for permits that will allow the event to grow up to 70,000 people within five years, but Goodell cautioned against those who might see growth as an answer to this year’s problems.

“Honestly, I don’t want more people until we do a little tweaking to the departure process,” Goodell said, noting that people waited as much as nine hours this year to get off the playa and onto the two-lane highway that leads to the Black Rock Desert.

I asked whether they were entertaining any big new ideas for managing the growth of the event, such as how the popular Coachella music festival this year created two events with identical lineups to handle demand. Harvey didn’t say specifically that was an option, but he did refer to his essay discussing this year’s art theme, Fertility 2.0, which just belatedly went online.

“If you read my theme,” he told me, “it’s all about the expansion of the culture.” Among other sentiments, Harvey wrote, “We are living in an age of mass production and consumption that is unsustainable. But culture, as a living system, has the power to create and recreate itself.”

The Performant: Discord fever

-
0
The Performant: Discord fever

San Francisco Tape Music Festival unwinds at ODC

The fact that it’s raining makes it an unexpectedly perfect night to attend the San Francisco Tape Music Festival. The water rushing through pipes and sweeping across the rooftop of the ODC Theatre adds an extra layer of ambience to the cacophonic tones emitting from a modest bank of speakers, squatting on the stage like forbidding monoliths. The here-and-now intrusion of the rainfall ties even the most outré compositions of the evening together in an entirely unanticipated manner, from the oldest (dated 1857) to those created this still-young year by members of the current incarnation of the San Francisco Tape Music Collective and sfSound.


Snugly protected from the bluster of the elements, we sit in patient anticipation as the lights dim to as near a full blackout as can be achieved with glowing EXIT signs and lighted soundboard. The darkness forces focus on the content of the composition, not the conduit, freeing the senses from the unconscious tyranny of vision. And a certain amount of focus does come in handy for an evening spent listening to the trajectories of polyphonic dissonance whizzing through the room at reckless speeds. Field recordings, samples of radio-age music scores, spoken murmurings of French, English, Greek, percussive clatterings, static-y white noise, and a host of sonic curiosities stack up on top of each other like the building blocks of childhood, leaning precariously, threatening to topple. “Purposeless play,” John Cage once described it, though of course such purposelessness contains a purpose all its own.

Maggi Payne, SF Tape Music Fest, SFBG.com

Composer Maggi Payne

A 16-minute Matthew Barnard composition entitled The Piano Makers sweeps the oddience into the Kemble piano factory, where Barnard made a series of field recordings of piano manufacturing: all clatter of machinery, zing of taut strings and tuning forks, and pounding of keys. John Cage’s Williams Mix kicks off a centennial celebration of Cage’s birth with a frenetic mélange of classic cartoon scores, old jazz standards, church hymns, radio announcements, and a lonesome foghorn. One of the evening’s most distinctive aural pleasures comes courtesy of noted theatrical sound-designer Cliff Caruthers, whose eerie, affecting Underneath would serve perfectly as the ambient score of some great, underwater epic — Gilgamesh perhaps — all creaking boards, and groaning depths, punctuated by the primal bellow of some unfathomable creature and a twinkle of silvery fish. Maggi Payne’s Glassy Metals rounds out the first half with a textural layering of metallic sounds manipulated to mimic the wet gurgle of a deep forest brook and rush of dry desert winds.

Ma++ Ingalls, SF Tape Music Fest, SFBG.com

Performer Ma++ Ingalls. Photo by Lenny Gonzalez

Two of the highlights of the second half include the second John Cage piece of the night, Imaginary Landscape No. 5. Composed on a block graph designating eight tracks and 42 separate sound clips, the realization of this version was created collaboratively by the Tape Music Collective, and performed by Ma++ Ingalls. Sterfos, by Orestis Karamanlis, also performed by Ingalls, transports the listener to a fishing village on the edge of the Aegean Sea. Bucolic village sounds such as the somber clang of church bells, footsteps crunching on gravel, the lapping of waves, dogs barking, children playing, and an elderly man with the oratory tone of a storyteller, all layered over with the urgent textural tones of aggressive modernity. More than any other piece of the evening, Sterfos embodies the cinematic quality of the music, a clearly defined story arc winding through the village entire. Only a minor technical glitch halfway through the piece mars the otherwise seamless meander along the shoreline of a strangely familiar sea.

 

Money and values

Andrew Lam
-
0
Money and values

steve@sfbg.com

Warren Hellman left a hole in the heart of San Francisco when he died on Dec. 18 at the age of 77. That’s where he existed, right in the city’s heart, keeping the lifeblood of money and values flowing when nobody else seemed up to that task. But as the outpouring of affection and appreciation that followed his death attests, he set an example for others to follow…and maybe they will.

Hellman was born into one of San Francisco’s premier wealthy families, a status he maintained by becoming a rich and famous investment banker. His great-grandfather founded Well Fargo, as well as the Congregation Emanu-El, the spectacular temple where Hellman’s memorial service was held Dec. 21, attended by a huge crowd ranging from Gov. Jerry Brown to young country music fans.

Hellman was more than just a philanthropist who funded key institutions such as the San Francisco Free Clinic, the Bay Citizen newsroom, and a variety of programs and bond measures benefiting local public schools. He was more than the go-to guy for mediating sticky political problems such as this year’s pension reform struggle.

Hellman was the conscience of San Francisco, reminding his rich friends of their obligations to fair play and the common good. And he was the rhythm of the city, single-handedly creating and funding the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, perhaps the greatest free music festival in the country. And he was so much more.

“What do banjos, garages, Levis, 50- and 100-mile runs, ride and tie, investment banking, public policy, ballot measures, free medical clinics, and a zest for women,” U.S. Sen. Dianne Feinstein said at his service, causing the room to erupt in laughter at the misstated last item, “for winning — correction, a zest for winning — have in common? The answer, of course, is simple: Warren Hellman.”

It was a gaffe that Hellman probably would have appreciated as much as anyone. Speaker after speaker attested to his marvelous, and often risqué, sense of humor. It was a theme that ran through the testimonials almost as strongly as two of his other key qualities: his competitiveness and his compassion.

For a charter member the 1 percent, Hellman had a deep appreciation for the average person of goodwill, and he found those people as often on the bottom of the socioeconomic ladder as he did on the top. While most of his contemporaries in San Francisco’s uber-wealthy class, such as Don Fisher and Walter Shorenstein, often used their money to wage class warfare on the 99 percent, Hellman used his wealth and influence to bridge the divide.

He generously gave to good causes and advocated for higher taxes on the wealthy to lessen the need for such charity. Hellman understood that we all help make San Francisco great, and that perspective animated his love of bluegrass music, which he called “the conscience of our country.”

As he told me in 2007, “A big passion of mine is to try to help — and people have defined it too narrowly — the kinds of music that I think have a hell of a lot to do with the good parts of our society.”

Hellman may have started the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival because it was music he loved and played, but he turned it into such a major spectacle — booking some of the biggest acts from around the country, going as big as the city and space would allow — because he thought it was important to the soul of his city.

“I’m glad that we have first-rate opera, but it’s equally important that we foster the kind of music, lyrics, etc., that support all this,” Hellman told me. And by “all this,” he was talking about the grand social bargain, the fact that we’re all sharing this planet and we’ve got to understand and nurture one another.

At the memorial service, that attitude came through most strongly in the words — spoken with a country twang — of musician Ron Thomason, who became good friends with Hellman through their shared loves of bluegrass music and horseback riding, including the endurance rides in which they each competed.

“I know I’m amongst all good folks,” Thomason told the packed synagogue. “The plain truth is Warren didn’t tolerate the other kind.”

That was true. No matter your perspective or station in life, Hellman wanted to know and appreciate you if had a good heart and curious mind. And if not, he would let you know — or cut you off, as he did with the political group he helped start, SFSOS, after its director Wade Randlett launched nasty attacks on progressive politicians and advocates.

Thomason joked about how ridiculous much of this country has become. “It’s hard to believe that only half the people are dumber than average,” he said. “But I don’t think anyone ever saw Warren Hellman talk down to anybody.”

He told the story of meeting Hellman backstage at Hardly Strictly. Thomason knew Hellman from equestrian events and didn’t know that he was a wealthy banker or that he created and funded the festival. And Hellman didn’t immediately offer that information, telling his friend that he was just backstage because he knew someone in management.

“He knew everyone in management, and he expected them to do right,” Thomason said, later adding, “In his mind, there should not be any disenfranchised.”

It was a perspective that was echoed by people from all parts of Hellman’s life, from his family members to his business partners.

“He taught us to respect people from all walks of life,” said Philip Hammarskjold, the CEO of Hellman & Friedman and Hellman’s business partner of 17 years, describing how Hellman was as engaged with and curious about the firm’s low-level support staff as he was its top executives, an attitude that infected those around him. “His culture is now our culture. His values are now our values.”

“Money meant noting to Warren,” said his sister, Nancy Bechtle. “But in business, money was the marker that you won and Warren always wanted to win.”

He was a competitive athlete and an investment banker who wanted to give companies the resources they needed to succeed, rather than slicing and dicing them for personal gain. And he used the wealth he accrued in the process to make San Francisco a better place.

“He treated San Francisco as if it were part of his family, nurturing its health and education,” said his granddaughter, Laurel Hellman.

Personally, he was an iconoclast with a lively sense of play.

“He never worried about the things that most parents worried about,” said Frances Hellman, the eldest of Warren’s four children. Rather than getting good grades and staying out of trouble, Hellman wanted his children to be happy, hard-working, respectful of people, and always curious about the world.

She told stories about taking Hellman to his first Burning Man in 2006 (along with Rabbi Sydney Mintz, who led the service), an event he loved and returned to the next two years, and watching his childlike pleasure at leaving his painted footprints on a sail that was headed around the world, or with just sitting on the playa, picking his banjo, watching all the colorful people go by.

“I love him and I miss him more than I can express,” she said.

As Hellman told me in 2007, he just loved people and was genuinely curious about their perspectives.

“I’m so grateful for the friendship of Warren, to know this incredible man,” singer Emmylou Harris — one of Hellman’s favorite musicians — said before singing for a crowd of others who felt just the same way.

Rearview mirror

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
-
0
Rearview mirror

emilysavage@sfbg.com

Year in Music “Out of all the records I’ve recorded, that was the worst experience,” says prolific Dinosaur Jr. bassist and Sebadoh guitarist Lou Barlow. He’s speaking of Bug, the classic, feedback opening alternative rock album Dinosaur Jr. released on SST in 1988.

Why then, did the band tour the East Coast during the spring of 2011, playing the album start to finish, and why does it continue to play it now — appearing at the Fillmore this week? “All the negative associations I had with it are gone. What I hear now is a really great batch of songs that J [Mascis] wrote.” He goes on to describe the early days of Dinosaur Jr., “when we formed it was my first textured, creatively ambitious band — and that was at the age of 17 — so it’s a real part of my DNA now. Musically, it’s a very familiar spot to be at.”

There, in a history-rich bed with a familiar texture, is the spot where aging rock fans crave to be. According to Simon Reynold’s exhaustive and polarizing 2011 tome Retromania, it’s also the space in which we all now inhabit, new listeners and old. His introductory words are harsh, if provoking. “The 2000s [was] the decade of rampant recycling: bygone genres revived and renovated, vintage sonic material, reprocessed and recombined. Too often with new young bands, beneath their taut skin and rosy cheeks, you could detect the sagging grey flesh of old ideas.” Brutal.

In some sections, Reynolds is dead on, and his methodology applies equally to the year in rock that was 2011 (though the book was written in the summer of 2010). We couldn’t possibly look back at these twelve months without including the grander trail of rock’n’roll, and how it was again repackaged throughout the year.

Given the retro-crazed times we live in, to judge the year, we must also fall deeper down the nostalgia inkwell, in part due to the onslaught of monster reunion tours, complete album trips, rereleased records, anniversary celebrations, and retro reverential new rock/garage/punk acts of 2011. One point Reynolds makes, is that the span of time elapsed between creative endeavor and nostalgia for said endeavor is rapidly fading.

Just recently the Weakerthans — which formed in 1997 — spent four power-pop nights at the Independent, playing one whole album from its catalogue each night. Earlier this year, Archers of Loaf launched a reunion tour (13 years after its demise) and the reissue of four of its studio albums on Merge. There were also reunion shows and tours from the Cars, Kyuss, Pulp, Cibo Matto, Masters of the Hemisphere, Death From Above 1979 (big up to Treasure Island Music Festival), and strangely, J. Geils Band, the Monkees, and System of a Down.

There were rereleased Smashing Pumpkins albums, a Throbbing Gristle greatest hits, and a Hot Snakes one-off (at press time) at All Tomorrow’s Parties’ Nightmare Before Xmas in Minehead, England — a fest also headlined by Archers of Loaf.

There was Nirvana’s Nevermind 20 year anniversary celebration, and Metallica’s 30 years strong, though the output for these celebrations was obviously disparate given the nature of the acts. Nirvana’s label released a series of singles and special edition anniversary batches. Metallica took perhaps the most surprising turn a no-frills metal act could — it paired with Lou Reed and released a confusing collaboration, Lulu, though the real anniversary celebration was yet to come — a four-night, devil-horned, juicy guest-starred tête-à-tête for hardcore fans at the Fillmore.

There were also the bands that just felt retro, or at least, stood with one foot in rock’s not-so-distant past. But the good ones were more reverent than carbon vintage copy, acts like Dum Dum Girls and Cults, played on romantic ideals of ’60s garage and slipped in some doo-wop and girl group-esque vocals, but neither directly mimics a particular era. In its debut follow-up, Only In Dreams (Sub Pop), Dum Dum Girls also referenced a distinct ’90s Mazzy Star vibe. Meanwhile, Canadian chanteuse Austra looped back to the ’80s with prominent synth and operatic love songs, and the Beets happily alluded to its own ’60s garage-meets-Ramones influences on fourth album Let The Poison Out (Hardly Art), like something out of a Nuggets boxset; a modern, bilingual Seeds.

Locally, longtime Ty Segall band member Mikal Cronin finally made the move to San Francisco in 2011. Raised on surf and garage rock down south, he brought with him a distinctive nostalgic sound; his solo self-titled record — released this year on Trouble in Mind — was one of the most intriguing of the year. Like many now living and playing in SF, he’s drawn to vintage rock’n’roll and garage, but his style stands out above the pack.

This year he released a multifarious record of crusted garage-punk and swirling psych-pop, glamorized with the hazy, sand-swept beach days pictured in vintage Polaroids. Opening track “Is It Alright” could be plucked from a psychedelic Beach Boys LP, laid thicker with grime. And Cronin, when pressed, reveals a long history of influences — along with current bands such as Thee Oh Sees and Strange Boys — mentioning longtime favorites “Emitt Rhodes, Del Shannon, the Beatles, the Beach Boys,” adding “I’ve been trying to relisten to the classics” And yes, the remaining Beach Boys were said to be planning yet another reunion for next year, a thrill for likely a few young fans (though the same can not be said for Brian Wilson’s 2011 Disney covers album).

Here’s another spot where Reynolds and I tend to split: I’m an unabashed rearview mirror fan. And while I agree that the “re-s” in our sonic world are sometimes overwhelmingly dull, the opportunity to see live bands that broke up before I was cognizant has just too strong a pull on my psyche. Even Reynolds seems to consent to that last bit, stating in Retromania, “The exceptions to my ‘no reunions’ policy are a few bands that I loved as a youth but never managed to see live.” So wouldn’t that be the case for someone in every audience? The giant pink headphones-wearing toddler I saw at the Iggy Pop show undoubtedly missed the punk singer’s first 40 odd years of shows. Now, will somebody please reunite Operation Ivy, Minor Threat, and Neutral Milk Hotel for complete album tours, or is that too sacrilegious for your precious memories? It’d just be for my own comfort, obviously. *

 

 

EMILY SAVAGE’S TOP 10 SHOWS OF 2011

Feb. 26: No Age, Grass Widow, and Rank/Xerox at Rickshaw Stop

April 27: Steve Ignorant plays Crass songs at Slim’s

June 1: Gayngs at Independent

July 13: King Khan & Gris-Gris, Shannon & the Clams, King Lollipop/1-2-3-4 Go! Records Showcase at Oakland Metro Opera House

Sept. 22: Hightower, Black Cobra, and Walken at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts

Oct. 6: CSS at Fillmore

Oct. 13: Gardens & Villa at Bottom of the Hill

Nov. 5: Wild Flag at Great American Music Hall

Dec. 4: Iggy Pop at Warfield

Dec. 10: Tycho at Independent

Our Weekly Picks: November 23-29

Andrew Lam
-
0

WEDNESDAY 23

Immortal Technique

“So now that it’s proven, that a soldier of revolution/ Or head of an empire, disguised in a constitution/ Can not escape the retribution or manipulation/ Of the self-appointed rulers of the planet’s corporations.” So says Afro-Peruvian rapper Immortal Technique on new mixtape The Martyr (Viper Records). Born Felipe Coronel, Tech seizes every opportunity to eviscerate American class warfare and excoriate the United States government’s complicity. Tech’s angry sermons get a little lost in the first half of Martyr because of distracting riffs taken from the Beatles, Aerosmith, and The Goonies soundtrack, though there is a clever reworking of ABBA’s “Money, Money, Money” in reference to this generation’s “Rich Man’s World (1%).” Pure, undiluted Tech shines through on the mixtape’s second half. Swill with care. (Kevin Lee)

With Chino XL, Da Circle, DJ GI Joe

8 p.m., $32.50

Fillmore

1805 Geary, SF

(415) 346-6000

www.thefillmore.com

 

MOM’s Family Funk’tion

Before you indulge in caloric binges, first endear yourself to the soulful 1960s sound that has always sounded sweeter during the holidays: Motown. No one knows and appreciates this more than the masterminds behind MOM (Motown on Mondays) who bring originals, remixes, and “close relatives” of Motown label songs to venues and events across San Francisco, including Madrone Art Bar, Public Works, SF Funk Fest, even the Treasure Island Music Festival. The first MOM’s Family Funk’tion goes down the night before the turkey funeral that is Thanksgiving at Brick & Mortar, with DJs Gordo, Timo, Phleck, and Matteo spinning the tracks that get the tail-feathers shaking. The crew from MOM promises to provide “toasty soul and fresh funk jams.” (Emily Savage)

10 p.m., $5

Brick & Mortar Music Hall

1710 Mission, SF

(415) 800-8782

www.brickandmortarmusic.com

 

tUnE-YarDs

Before her set at Pitchfork Music Festival last summer, we were all given tubes of neon yellow warpaint so we could emulate tUnE-YarDs’ Merrill Garbus. Though we may have resembled her, it was no use. We would never be as badass as the woman on stage looping ukulele, smashing drums, and wailing something fierce. With help from additional saxophonists and drummers, the playful jams of Garbus’ quirky hit album w h o k i l l (4AD) burst forth into the calculated cacophony that is tUnE-YarDs. (Frances Capell)

With Pat Jordache

8 p.m., $23

Regency Ballroom

1300 Van Ness, SF

(415) 673-5716

www.theregencyballroom.com

 

FRIDAY 25

“Sing-A-Long Sound of Music”

Chances are “Sing-A-Long Sound of Music,” the classic musical from 1964 with lyric subtitles so the whole theater can burst into song, is your mother’s dream come true — unless I am the only one who has watched their mom caper around the house, singing “My Favorite Things” (a possibility). It’s fortunate that “Sing-A-Long Sound of Music” should show the weekend after Thanksgiving. If mom’s in town, it’s your best bet. Additionally, the theater hands out goody bags, holds a pre-film concert featuring organist David Hegarty, as well as a costume contest. Your mom can dress up as Maria, of course, and you can dress as one of the Von Trapp children. Come on, do it for family. (James H. Miller)

7 p.m., $15

Castro Theater

429 Castro, SF

(415) 621-6120

www.castrotheater.com

 

Nadastrom

Are there a lot of orphans in the DJ community? Why are they active the weekend after Thanksgiving, when touring bands are presumably in food comas? Thankfully, there’s still down and dirty shows like this to sweat the gravy out, featuring a big lineup of international and SF DJs including Nadastrom, the progenitors of the bastard toddler of Dutch house and reggaeton: moombahton. Put on by Soundpieces, Camp?, and Irie Cartel, the proceeds of the event will benefit DJs Bogl and Benjammin Taylor, who lost their home in the fire above the Haight and Fillmore Walgreens a couple months back.(Ryan Prendiville)

With Truth (NZ), Stylust Beats (CAN), Lorne B (CAN), Tuffist (SP), Dnae Beats and more

10 p.m., $15 advance

103 Harriet, SF

(415) 431-1200

www.1015.com

 

“Velveteen Rabbit”

There is a lovely tradition in English children’s books that dresses issues around growing up with imagination and a gentle but firm hold on reality. Winnie the Pooh and Wind in the Willows are two of them. Marjorie Williams’ 1922 The Velveteen Rabbit is another. ODC/Dance’s KT Nelson, a young mother at the time, choreographed it 24 years ago. Today, it’s as fresh and imaginative as ever, with wonderfully colorful costumes, Benjamin Britten’s splendid score and Geoff Hoyle’s intimate narration. The two-person high Nana has just a touch of Victorian strictness about cleaning up the nursery but her efficiency is more than held in check by the toys who have minds of their own. Opening performance is Grandparents’ (20 percent off) and photo day (Rita Felciano)

Through Dec. 11, times vary, $15–$45

Novellus Theater

Yerba Buena Center for the Arts

700 Howard, SF

(415) 978-2787

www.ybca.org

 

“Great Dickens Christmas Fair”

Do not discount the Dickens Fair’s potential for holiday weekend shenanigans. Opportunities for hijinx abound, and not just because the fair’s 800 performers — from dirty-overcoated “guvnah!” drunks to crinoline-encased ladies who tea — are encouraged to interact in character with passers-by (mess with them gently! They love it!) The fair fills the cavernous Cow Palace, and houses a corsetry with live models coordinated by local cinchers Dark Garden, an adventurer’s salon where you can share your rollicking tales of shot glass exploration with fantastically mustached gents — and yes, you can booze your face off. Four bars, people! Including an absinthery in an alley, where you can mix chemically-induced hallucinations in with your environment-induced ones. (Caitlin Donohue)

Through Dec. 18, $22–$25

Cow Palace

2600 Geneva, SF

1-800-510-1558

www.dickensfair.com

 

Boys Noize

Here’s a great way to shed those new extra turkey (or Tofurkey) pounds — waddle into the Mezzanine Saturday night in your most comfortable tight jeans and dance your ass off. Boys Noize throws down the kind of relentlessly squelchy music that might make pioneers of Detroit’s minimal techno scene wince. Noize, actually the moniker of German DJ Alex Ridha, has been busy as of late, pushing releases on his record label, BoysNoize Records and its digital offshoot BNR Trax. The label’s sounds range from acidy techno to sinister electro, with a sprinkle of wobbly dubstep and a dash of oddball, leftfield sounds — much like the label’s creator himself. (Lee)

10 p.m., $30

Mezzanine

444 Jessie, SF

415) 625-8880

www.mezzaninesf.com


SUNDAY 11/27

Jeffrey Luck Lucas and Nebulous Orchestra

The Mission District’s Episcopal Church of St. John the Evangelist is no ordinary church — sure, it holds regular worship services, but it is also highly progressive (vocally supportive of LGBT rights, for example), boasts a colorful mural on one of its exterior walls, and is staunchly community-oriented, welcoming the occasional secular event into its historic (circa 1910, after being rebuilt post-1906 quake) building. Tonight’s performance features Mission troubadour Jeffrey Luck Lucas, heading up an “orchestra” (pipe organ, oboes, clarinets, strings, and more) comprised of other local musicians. You can bet that the acoustics in the church — itself known for a strong music program — will render the experience even more amen-worthy. (Cheryl Eddy)

With Gloaming Boys

6 p.m., $8–$20 (no one turned away for lack of funds)

Episcopal Church of St. John the Evangelist

1661 15th St., SF

www.saintjohnsf.org


MONDAY 11/28

“You Are All Captains”

A beguiling and beautiful meta-fiction, You All Are Captains grew out of Oliver Laxe’s experience teaching film workshops to local kids in Tangiers. Everyone plays themselves in this reflexive movie, though Laxe casts himself as the fool — a presumptuous European director guiding students to his own ends. The disguise allows him to realize sly but substantive reflections upon the ontology and ethics of filming. It’s fitting that You All Are Captains is making its local premier in a classroom: a U.C. Berkeley student group flying under the banner of “Picturing Neo-Imperialism” has invited Laxe to present his debut in person more than a year after it won the FIPRESCI critics’ award at Cannes. (Max Goldberg)

7 p.m., free

UC Berkeley

Dwinelle B-4, Berk.

www.pnwg.wordpress.com/events


TUESDAY 11/29

Metal Mother

By some standards, Oakland’s Tara Tati came into music fairly late: she didn’t take up the piano seriously until she was 23. But you wouldn’t guess as much listening to her ethnic fusion project, Metal Mother. On the debut album Bonfire Diaries, the singer-songwriter builds up a bold and elemental sound. With its trudging percussion and distinctly dark temper, Metal Mother invokes ’80s goth rock, ethnic fusion bands like Dead Can Dance, and at times, world ambient soundscapes. And yet, at heart, Tati sounds like a pop artist in the same vein as Björk circa Homogenic, and that alone implies talent. (Miller)

With Horns of Happiness, Mortar and Pestle, Birdseye

8 p.m., $10

Cafe Du Nord

2170 Market, SF

(415) 861- 5061

www.cafedunord.com

 

Retox

Is the Locust a joke? With its speedy deliver, high vocals, beepy attack synth, and masked personas, I never could quite decide. And yet, who cares? The energy level was always high, the shows always masterful absurdist romps. Justin Pearson and Gabe Serbian from the screamy ’90s-born Three One G act have now formed Retox — like Locust 2.0. Masks now off, and sounds a bit filled in (but really, just a smidge — its new album clocks in at 13 minutes total), it’s shinier, thicker, less jokey. It’s helter-skelter rock’n’roll, minus the screeching buzz-saw, the painful intro to “Boredom is Counter-Revolutionary” notwithstanding. The band is matched well with frantic experimental Japanese noise-punk act Melt-Banana. Anticipate high-energy, non-medical spasms. (Savage)

With Melt-Banana, Peace Creep

9 p.m., $14

Bottom of the Hill

1233 17th St., SF

(415) 621-4455

www.bottomofthehill.com

GOLDIES 2011: Tammy Rae Carland

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
-
1
GOLDIES 2011: Tammy Rae Carland

GOLDIES The beds in the photographs are like any other unmade beds — messes of rumpled sheets and dented pillows occasionally punctuated by a stray article of clothing or a curious pet. Except that they are not like other beds: they are, as the title of Tammy Rae Carland’s 2002 series of depopulated portraits informs the viewer, “lesbian beds.”

The distinction is crucial, critical. A smart conceptual retort to the hoary stereotype of lesbian bed death, Carland’s photographs of one of the places where women share their lives (and their bodies) with other women also make clear the political stakes of representing even the most quotidian objects.

At the same time, there is nothing in or about the photographs that signifies “lesbian.” Indeed, it is very banality of the images’ content, the very familiarity of the scene that is repeatedly depicted in “Lesbian Beds,” that makes them so immediately relatable. And yet to uncouple these photographs from the title which brackets them would be to disregard the difference the entire series makes visible.

This sometimes uneasy mix of representational politics and sentimental attachment to objects is at the core of Carland’s work. She cites her longtime involvement in the queer and feminist punk scenes that sprung up in Pacific Northwest in the early ’90s — where she made zines, ran a gallery space, booked shows and, later, ran the successful and politically progressive indie label Mr. Lady Records with her partner — as a catalyst for her interest in, “marginal identities and marginal bodies.”

“[And] not just in regards to sites of oppression,” explains Carland — who has lived in Oakland for close to a decade and now chairs the California College of the Arts’ photography department — “but alternative sites where people function.” It is often the material possessions accumulated at those sites, rather than the people themselves, that catch Carland’s sympathetic eye and form the genesis for a new project. For her series “Outposts,” it was the (unpopulated) encampments within the “women born, women only” space of the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival. In “My Inheritance,” Carland turned the camera on the inventory of her late mother’s apartment — the entirety of which could fit in a paper grocery bag.

Carland’s latest project, “I’m Dying Up Here,” which was recently featured as part of Yerba Buena Center for the Arts’s triennial Bay Area Now 6, takes a different tack, focusing on stand-up comedy and the figure of the self-deprecating comedian. Pieces include staged photographs of local female performers, their faces often obscured, caught mid-routine, as well as a bar stool and microphone — the tools of the trade — cast in white porcelain.

Like beds, the comedy club stage is also a site of vulnerability, albeit a public one. For female comedians, the price of admission is often predicated on making themselves the butt of their own jokes. The melancholy and tender pieces in “I’m Dying Up Here” convey that moment, pregnant with empowerment but also the threat of rejection. A joke, like an artwork, can always flop or the audience just might not get it. A bed is just a bed; but then it isn’t, if two women share it. Carland’s work routinely foregrounds this riskiness while extending a reassuring hand as if to say, “it’s ok if this fails, because we both still tried.”

Rhythm nations

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
-
0
Rhythm nations

DANCE Watched over by two pink carousel horses, a rainbow. and a big lotus flower, they sway, stomp, and slide even as they chant, clap, and body slap in increasingly complex rhythms. They are SlamDance, Keith Terry’s sextet of musician-dancers, and they are rehearsing their upcoming performance at the fourth International Body Music Festival, held this year at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts.

Last year, the (free) festival took place in São Paulo, Brazil; next October it will happen (also free) in Istanbul, Turkey. “Free performances [are] something we could never do in this country,” Terry ruefully observes. Still, the plan is to have a local festival (2011 tickets start at $25) every other year.

Terry, who organized the first festival in 2008, started out as a percussionist. He was the first drummer for the Jazz Tap Ensemble, and he is a founding member of Berkeley’s Gamelan Sekar Jaya. So the beat has been in his body for a very long time — yet early in his career he changed from “a seated musician to a moving musician,” as he calls himself. Using one’s body as a musical instrument, he says, sometimes is called “body percussion” or “body drumming.” Terry prefers the term “body music” because it includes melodic and harmonic aspects as well as its rhythmic components. SlamDance performers, for instance, use their voices to percussive effect as well as in simple part-singing.

Using your body to make music is pretty basic. We all do it, perhaps starting as toddlers with patty-cake, progressing into clapping games at recess, and ending up as oldsters who play the spoons. Much of these practices go back to folkways rooted in ritualistic endeavors. But there are also innovations: the gumboot dance, for instance, was developed by South African miners early in the 20th century, while African American fraternities popularized a particular form of step-dancing.

Body music is both a communal practice with a sense of freedom even as it demands great discipline and precision. “That’s what makes it fun,” Terry explains. Often it integrates improvisation and fixed passages, not unlike what happens in both hip-hop and jazz.

Noticeable from a dance perspective is the SlamDancers’ slight sway in the torso. “It helps with the breathing,” Terry notes, though he was surprised to see how practices change from culture to culture.

“One of the things that fascinates me about these festivals is how differently these musicians, who come from all over the world, carry themselves. It was one of the most profound experiences with my first body music festival because we are, basically, all just clapping and stepping. It’s definitely a cultural thing. You put a French group next to a Brazilian one and you can immediately see the difference.”

One of the first groups Terry identified with as kindred spirits was Çudamani, an astounding troupe of male dancer-musicians from Bali. They perform kecak, a rhythmic, chanting-and-swaying “monkey dance” that originated in trance rituals. Six of its dancers bring new choreography as part of this year’s International Body Music Festival line-up, which features a total of eleven companies.

Others include the theatrical Cambuyón, from the Canary Islands, which integrates tap and hip-hop into other percussive forms, and Kantu Korpu, which draws on flamenco and tap to translate regional Greek music into motion. Both of these groups are making their US debut. KeKeÇa’s five performers interpret Turkish songs within Near Eastern movement traditions. Fernando Barba from Brazil draws from samba and maracatu; Danny “Slapjazz” Barber is a hambone virtuoso; the Las Vegas-based group Molodi pulls in theater and just about everything with a beat. A gentler soul is Quebec’s Éric Beaudry, who will also team up with a trio of Oakland step dancers.

 

INTERNATIONAL BODY MUSIC FESTIVAL

Fri/4-Sat/5, 8 p.m.; Sun/6, 2 p.m., $25–$50

Yerba Buena Center for the Arts

701 Mission, SF.

www.internationalbodymusicfestival.com

Strength of song

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
-
0
Strength of song

In Cuba, there is just one group that specializes in traditional Haitian songs — the Creole Choir of Cuba. “Some of the songs in our repertoire are those we learned from our parents or grandparents, others we learned during the many visits we have made to Haiti,” says choir director Emilia Diaz Chavez, through translator Kelso Riddell.

Riddell is the group’s tour manager for this journey, which is the choir’s fifth trip through the U.S. The vibrant ensemble — featuring Creole vocals and percussion — appears in San Francisco at the Herbst Theatre on Nov. 3, through the California Institute of Integral Studies’ public programs and performances series.

Diaz Chavez created the group in 1994 in Camagüey, Cuba. The core ten members — Rogelio Torriente, Fidel Miranda, Teresita Miranda, Marcelo Luis, Dalio Vital, Yordanka Fajardo, Irian Montejo, Marina Fernandes, Yara Diaz, and Diaz Chavez — were already part of the Regional Choir of Camaguey, which Diaz Chavez also directs (and has for the past 32 years). “The Haitian descendents of the Regional Choir got together to form the Desandann or the Creole Choir of Cuba with the objective of promoting the songs of our ancestors,” she explains.

Desandann literally translates to “descendents.” The choir is made up of the descendents of a people twice displaced, first from West Africa, then from Haiti. Some of their ancestors escaped slavery in Haiti near the end of the 18th century, others came to Cuba more recently to work in the coffee and sugar plantations.

Diaz Chavez was born in Camagüey, and remembers nights at home singing — she says her whole family enjoys song and dance. She studied music at the School of Arts in Camagüey, then completed her studies in Havana. “After graduating, I became particularly interested Haitian music and bringing it to the rest of the world,” she says.

While the journey of her people may have included displacement and sorrow, the songs the group sings are mostly uplifting — lyrics include messages of love, humor, and happiness, along with struggle. “These make us all laugh and cry and sing and dance,” say Diaz Chavez. And the consistent hand percussion and moving vocal compositions maintain an air of excitement, urgency. Live, the group dresses in colorful prints and engages audiences in participation. On this tour, which includes 30 performances during a six-week period, the choir also has been holding workshops at schools throughout the country.

“We hope people leave our concerts knowing more of our Haitian music, and that they have received our messages of love and friendship,” Diaz Chavez says, “And [we hope] they enjoy a little Cuban music too.” *

CREOLE CHOIR OF CUBA

Nov. 3, 8 p.m., $25–$65 Herbst Theatre

401 Van Ness, SF

(415) 621-6600

www.cityboxoffice.com

 

ADDITIONAL GLOBAL MUSIC EVENTS

The annual San Francisco World Music Festival, now in its 12th year, will premiere “The Epic Project: Madmen, Heroines & Bards from Around the World.” The performances bring together singers, musicians, and epic chanters from Azerbaijan, Kyrgyzstan, and the Tamil Nadu rivers of India, among other worldwide locations. Performers include Azerbaijani kamancha master Imamyar Hasanov, Chinese nanguan master Wang Xin Xin, North Indian tabla master Swapan Chaudhuri, South Indian carnatic violinist Anuradha Sridhar, and more.

Fri/28-Sun/30, 8 p.m., $20

Jewish Community Center of San Francisco

3200 California, SF

(415) 292-1233

www.jccsf.org

 

Riffat Sultana, daughter of legendary singer Ustad Salamat Ali Khan, performs traditional and modern music including Sufi, folk, and love songs from Pakistan and India. The vocalist is backed by an ensemble playing tabla, bansuri flute, and 12-string guitar. Sultana, who comes from eleven generations of master vocalists, is the first woman of her lineage to perform publicly and to tour the West. Since moving to the US, she has performed with Shabaz (previously known as the Ali Khan Band) — an acoustic group of world musicians — and more recently, her own Riffat Sultana & Party, a paired down group focused mainly on her velvety vocals.

Fri/28, 8pm, $12–$15

Red Poppy Art House

2698 Folsom, SF

(415) 826-2402

Our Weekly Picks: October 19-25

Andrew Lam
-
0

THURSDAY 20

Gabrielle Hamilton

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

8 p.m., $17–$27

Herbst Theater

401 Van Ness, SF

(415) 392-4400

www.cityarts.net

 

John Doe

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

With Dead Rock West

8 p.m., $20

Great American Music Hall

859 O’Farrell St., SF

(415) 885-0750

www.gamh.com


FRIDAY 21

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

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

10 p.m., $15-20 presale

103 Harriet, SF

(415) 431-1200

www.1015.com


Kendrick Lamar

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

9 p.m., $23–$35

New Parish

579 18th St., Oakl.

(510) 444-7474

www.thenewparish.com


DJ Shadow

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

9 p.m. $35–$38

Regency Ballroom

1290 Sutter, SF

(800) 745-3000

wwww.theregencyballroom.com


SATURDAY 22

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

8 p.m., $45–$100

Concourse Exhibition Center

635 Eighth St., SF

www.masquerotica.com


SUNDAY 23

Cashore Marionettes

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

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

Cal Performances, Wheeler Hall, Berk.

(510) 642-9988

www.calperformances.org

 

Mammatus

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

With Swanifant and San Francisco Watercooler

9 p.m., $10

Cafe Du Nord

2170 Market, SF

(415) 861-5016

www.cafedunord.com

 

Anthrax

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

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


MONDAY 24

1Q84 release party

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

9:30 p.m. Free

Green Apple Bookstore

506 Clement, SF

(415) 387-2272

www.greenapplebooks.com

 

“An Injury to One”

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

6:30 p.m., $9–$11

New People Cinema

1746 Post, SF

(415) 525-8630

www.sffs.org


TUESDAY 25

Gold Panda

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

With Jonti, and Blackout Make Out

8 p.m., $15

Independent

628 Divisadero, SF

(415) 771-1421

www.theindependentsf.com


TUESDAY 25

Male Bonding

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

With WATERS and Lilac

8 p.m., $12

Rickshaw Stop

155 Fell, SF

(415) 861-2011

www.rickshawstop.com

 

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

Mini symphonies and Beach House: Treasure Island, day two

Tony Robles
-
0
Mini symphonies and Beach House: Treasure Island, day two

Though Wild Beasts’ brand of baroque, sensual dream-pop is better suited for a dark and smoky bar, I consider it an honor to catch the UK band in any setting. A sizable crowd gathered around the Tunnel stage at Treasure Island Music Festival to enjoy songs from this year’s Smother, along with older material like breakout hit “The Devil’s Crayon.” Hayden Thorpe’s heavenly falsetto rang out over chiming guitar provided by Ben Little.

“This song is about fucking,” Tom Fleming announced before launching into “All The King’s Men” from the 2009’s Mercury Prize-nominated Two Dancers. At this point, visible swooning ensued among a group of devoted female fans with a handwritten sign praising Fleming’s velvety baritone. It was the final show of a month-long stint in the States for this English bunch. As they directed our attention to the glittering bay behind them, I became quite certain it would be remembered fondly by band and audience alike.

Over on the Bridge stage, seasoned alt-rock vets Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks shredded super hard. Malkmus’ sharp-tongued stage banter kept me giggling between songs. However, anyone standing near where I was won’t need me to recount the wildly distracting antics of the boy dancing with a giant plush hot dog. Also, I’d be curious to hear from the burner brave enough to follow up on bassist Joanna Bolme’s request for “herbal cigarettes.” In an act of genius scheduling, Beach House took to the Bridge stage just as the sun began to set against the San Francisco skyline. The sky took on a surreal orange hue that fit all too well with the Baltimore, Md., ensemble’s hazy, dreamy tunes.

I’m not sure which was more jaw-dropping, the epic sunset or Victoria Legrand’s stunning features displayed on the jumbo screen behind her. Couples embraced and swayed to the melancholic arrangements of Alex Scally’s wailing guitar and Legrand’s organ; a few audience members were reduced to tears. Although I didn’t cry, Beach House’s flawless delivery of “Take Care” just as darkness fell over the island was, hands-down, my favorite TIMF moment.

Maybe I’m getting old, but all the excitement, running between stages, and daytime beers left me exhausted. Sorry Death Cab, Explosions In The Sky served as my TIMF grand finale. I had reservations about the instrumental rock band’s ability to hold my attention for a full set, and previous acts had already set the bar pretty high. However, my expectations were thwarted as the Austin, Texas post-rockers completely blew me away. Members of Explosions In The Sky threw themselves into the mini symphonies, sometimes sitting down due to the physical demand of their elaborate instrumentation. About halfway through the performance, a swarm of illuminated white fabric jellyfish appeared overhead and gracefully bobbed through the crowd. I watched the giant screen in awe as Munaf Rayani open-handedly slapped the strings of his guitar with dramatic emphasis to produce a piercing, eerily dissonant sound. Then Rayani and the band finished up a melodic masterpiece and the audience erupted into wild, reverberating applause.

 

Click here for day one.

Space Mayans and techno-African kuduro: Treasure Island, day one

Tony Robles
-
0

Treasure Island Music Festival rewards the stout of heart and non-possessive of blanket space. The way the island fest is set up, no two concerts overlap – if one feels up to it, one can traverse the 100-some meters between the Bridge and Tunnel (get it?)  stages to catch any given day’s entire. Music. Lineup. Upshot? I spent a solid hour in the press tent with my feet on a card table, tapping away on my smart phone as though taking notes, incredibly unstout.

But the music!

We got there on one of the first, cushy shuttle buses of the day. Chair foursomes facing each other over tables with cupholders? A bike workshop run by Levi’s was set up next to the SF Bike Coalition’s valet services at AT&T so our cycles were tuned and gleaming by the well-deserved end of the festival day? Clearly, TIMF is doing it’s best to ameliorate the rage caused by the long shuttle lines one must endure after the headliner’s close.

Our haste was due to one man: Aloe Blacc (though we managed to catch the also-rad performance by local indies Geographer). Blacc might have been a slightly unconventional choice for the electro-dominant festival but it is, after all, not a bad idea to provide refuge from driving beats and plaintive whines for just a moment. He appeared onstage the embodiment of dapper, and went out of his way to inspire audience participation (singing and soul line) for his singles “You Make Me Smile” and “I Need a Dollar.” A late-in-the-set switch to reggae showcased his range.

Then: ferris wheel. If you want to really see this festival, you will do it from the whooping, screeching heights of an amusement park ride ($5, meh). Do this early in the day because by the time it gets dark, you’ll have lines all the way out to the Burning Man shipping container area (where the bonneted “grahamas” handed out graham crackers and freaky faux-old-woman coddling). Also, do the Silent Disco early in the day for the same, line-related reasons.

Shabazz Palaces was great, the Naked and Famous were great. Battles, I was tickled to learn upon reading my program prior to its set, holds in down in New York for “math rock,” which surely you can imagine as the climbing and descending wash of sounds that it is. I felt the unexamined logarithms washing over me… but it was time for Dizzie Rascal.

Why has this emcee achieved more renown in the United States than nearly any of his non-US peers? (Which I typed out just before being reminded by Wikipedia that Drake is from Canada) It’s been a long time since his 2003 debut album Boy in Da Corner. The Ghanian Brit gave us dubstep because he heard “Americans like dubstep,” got everyone dancing to the sound of police sirens, and generally set the international stage for Portugal’s Buraka Som Sistema, which jounced around the stage in a techno-African kuduro whirl.

One thing. Why is Native American the design motif of choice at festivals these days? I blame Urban Outfitters, but the numbers of TIMF-supplied teepees didn’t help, and to a lesser extent, neither did Workshop’s adorable and well-meaning dreamcatcher classes. Kids, dressing up as an ethnic group you do not belong to is a total no-no, even if you LOVE that neon feathered headdress. Just say no. I saw an awesome group on the Jumbotron whose crowd-locator totem pole had a plush broccoli strapped to it — you are welcome to try an animal, vegetable, or mineral theme. Chromeo turned in a good show, even if the duo doesn’t seem to have switched up its song retinue much since 2007’s Fancy Footwork album.

We stayed at the larger Bridge stage after that to begin the slow push to the front for the Australian end of the day one-two punch: Cut Copy and Empire of the Sun. This was the end of the day, and the well-prepared among us was revving up for the night while the rookies were drooping and falling backwards onto me every fucking time I was looking straight at their wobbly backside.

Can we talk about Empire of the Sun? I’d like to hear a reaction from someone in the back of the audience during that show, because honestly I feel bad for you. If you couldn’t see the costumes that the gaggle of space Mayans onstage were sporting, what was that like? If the epaulet-wigs weren’t easily visible flying through the air, if you couldn’t pick up the subtlety in the way the dolphin head dancers were cutting through the stage’s energy currents – the Jumbotron was tuned to the group’s Stargate-esque visuals instead of the close-up shots of the performers that had shown on it for every other show. Anyway, we were at the front and I will tell you right now what the show was like: awesome, even if most of the people around us were frozen looking at the stage in place of actually moving to the beat.

That was it. Then we waited in line for the shuttles. Which was fine, because we had a lot to talk about, like how there was no way in hell we’d be able to do this again the next day. (Unstout).

 

Click here for day two.

Our Weekly Picks: October 12-18

Andrew Lam
-
0

WEDNESDAY 12

EMA

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

With Sister Crayon and Alexis

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

(415) 771-1421

www.theindependentsf.com


Mary Roach

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

7:30 p.m., free

Booksmith

1644 Haight, SF

(415) 863-8688

www.booksmith.com


THURSDAY 13

“Flight of Poets”

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

7 p.m., $15

Hotel Rex

562 Sutter, SF

(415) 440-4177

www.litquake.org

 

Daniel Francis Doyle

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

With Clarissa, and Hazel’s Wart

8 p.m., $5

Club Paradiso

2272 Telegraph, Oakl.

(510) 735-9095

www.disolounge.com

 

“Doc”

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

7:30 p.m., $12

Oddball Film+Video

275 Capp, SF

(415) 558-8112

info@oddballfilm.com

 

Enslaved

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

With Alcest, Junius, and the Swizard

7:30 p.m., $17

Slim’s

333 11th St., SF

(415) 255-0333

www.slims-sf.com


FRIDAY 14

Jeffrey Eugenides

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

7 p.m., free

Books Inc. Opera Plaza

601 Van Ness, SF

(415)-776-1111

www.litquake.org

 

Frank Turner & the Sleeping Souls

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

With Andrew Jackson Jihad and Into It. Over It.

8:30 p.m., $16

Slim’s

333 11th St., SF

(415) 255-0333

www.slims-sf.com


SATURDAY 15

“An Afternoon of Soccer Culture”

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

3 p.m., free

Edinburgh Castle Pub

950 Geary, SF

(415) 885-4974

www.castlenews.com

 

“The Hula Show”

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

8 p.m. also Sun/16, 4 p.m., $35–$45

Palace of Fine Arts Theater

3301 Lyon Street, SF

(415) 392-4400

www.naleihulu.org


SATURDAY 15

JFK of MSTRKRFT

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

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

9:30 p.m. Doors, $20

Mezzanine

444 Jessie, SF

(415) 625-8880

www.mezzaninesf.com

 

Never Knows

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

With Water Borders and Total Accomplishment

9 p.m., $5

Amnesia

853 Valencia, SF.

(415) 970-0012

www.amnesiathebar.com

 

TUESDAY 18

Opeth

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

With Katatonia

8 p.m., $27

The Warfield

982 Market, SF

(415) 345-0900

www.thewarfieldtheatre.com


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

One last cannabis fest? Despite IRS ruling, medical community soldiers on

Andrew Lam
-
1

Last week, the IRS’ two year audit of Harborside Health Center ended poorly for the medical marijuana industry. The federal government agency decided that the dispensary (Oakland’s largest, as the Bay Citizen reported in its coverage of the craziness — check out our story in today’s paper about the additional threats that have been made) couldn’t deduct standard business expenses, a move that left Harborside in the hole for $2 million and the rest of its industry in need of a joint. 

Such was the setting for the West Coast Cannabis and Music Festival this weekend (Fri/7-Sun/9). Things got a little weird. Which is not to say that things weren’t also good. The 215 legal smoking area was ample proof that medical cannabis is alive and thriving, especially in the here and now. How else to explain the booths hawking aphrodisiac cannabis drinks and medicated vanilla chai truffles? Outside, the fresh-faced and strongly-quadricepped carried forth at the Rock the Bike music stage, its live and DJ offerings projected into the Cow Palace parking lot by a woefully shallow pool of volunteers. The muscle mass we pay for music… 

Even the charming gentlemen at the Harborside booth were all kinds of upbeat, eager to talk about their new Discovery Channel reality TV show. They were handing out copies of their dispensary’s newsletter, the Harborside Illuminator. In it, general manager Andrew DeAngelo’s column, which contained a transcript of a conversation he had with the show’s producer, Chuck Braverman:

DeAngelo: Chuck, I really liked the name Cannabis Confidential — why did they go with Weed Wars?

Braverman: Bigger tent

DeAngelo: What do you mean bigger tent?

Braverman: The title Weed Wars will get more people into the tent to watch the show.

DeAngelo: But we don’t call it ‘weed’ and there is no war.

Of course, some would say there is a war on now. It certainly felt like I was being drafted by Sunday afternoon, when California state senator John Vasconsellos’ time to occupy the speaker’s stage was approaching. A barker alternatively sang and cajoled into the microphone, eventually resorting to bribes. “Anyone who sits down over here will receive a free joint. People, you need to hear this!” Ever obliging, we sat and listened to the woman who introduced the senator. She informed us she was filming the talk, although the final destination of the video was unclear to those of us who had just made her acquaintance. 

“Senator,” she trilled. “Look at all these people here who love you!” You and free marijuana, doll. 

Which is a really snarky thing to say, because we had little to say against the senator’s speech, which was 45 minutes of a call to arms to save patients’ right to access their medicine. And truly, we had to agree with the woman who had repurposed an electric green sleep sack as a dress, but not before cutting out the tits, donning a black mesh garment underneath, affixing a fake weed plant to the crotch area, and boldly Sharpie-ing across the front of it all “Obama can you replace our tax revenue?”

She giggled and posed in front of a strangely perfect WCCMF logo-ed wall when asked by (more than one) photographer if they could digi-capture her. Probably because she knew we all agreed with her, which come to think of it is a big part of these festivals: meeting other stoners that share your concerns. 

Like, does that aphrodisiac stuff really work or what?

The Hangover: Oct. 7-9

Andrew Lam
-
0

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maximum Consumption: The Treasure Island Festival musical tasting menu

Tony Robles
-
0

So excited for Treasure Island Music Festival, you can taste it? Yes, you can. Thanks to graffEats and Noise Pop, you can literally taste it with a gourmet menu inspired by the upcoming festival. It’s a feast for all senses tomorrow night at the Treasure Island Pop Up Shop; everything can be shot, sucked, or eaten with fingers. Each item on the six-course tasting menu takes after a different artist from the 2011 festival lineup, and will be paired with wine.

Try the Death Cab For Cutie-matched tomato and peach Caprese with sweet balsamic and aged cheddar. There’s a gourmet spin on chicken and waffles in honor of Malkmus and the Jicks. For dessert, enjoy an extravagant all-gold Empire Of The Sun peach push-pop. Of course, this magical evening will be accompanied by an awesome soundtrack.

Partial Menu:
Death Cab for Cutie:Tomato and peach “Caprese,” sweet balsamic, aged cheddar, smokey almond pesto

Flying Lotus:Angel-spiced halibut, caramelized onion and fennel, black olive oil

Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks:Beer-fried game hen and yeast-risen waffle, mustard, radish

Death From Above 1979: Berber spiced lamb, grilled paneer, baby eggplant and minted yogurt

Empire of the Sun:“Head On A Stick”– Golden peaches-and-cream push pop, star anise salt and gold

Aloe Blacc:Foie gras bon bon, dark chocolate, plum, sea salt

Indulge your senses with fellow music enthusiasts and food lovers. It’s the perfect way to prepare for the fast-approaching festival weekend.

Treasure Island SoundBite: A Musical Tasting Menu
Brought to you by graffEats and Treasure Island
Thurs/6, 7:30 p.m., $45 (includes wine pairings)
Treasure Island Pop Up Shop @ San Franpsycho Store
1314 Grant, SF
www.graffeats.com
Tickets

1...678...15Page 7 of 15

48hills.org is the official publication of the non-profit San Francisco Progressive Media Center.
Contact us: info@48hills.org