No studies, just fun times last week - at the Rickshaw Stop's anniversary series of shindigs and then Social Studies on Jan. 26 at Bottom of the Hill. J'adore those kiddie tambourines that were distributed to the audience for those bang-along songs.

Came in just in time for Magic Bullets whose vocalist was a deadringer/-singer for Robert Smith. The stellar indie pop kept on keeping on when Social Studies entered rocking dark denim, synth, and a terry-cloth headband. Natalia R's dulcet tones evoked, gosh, 10,000 Maniacs-era Natalie Merchant - and that's not an insult! An extremely Social-ized crowd went ape, like monkeys drunk on KROQ. More please! SS's next show is Feb. 10 at Hemlock Tavern.

Getting social at BOH. All photos by Ka-ching! Chun

Our longtime faves, the underappreciated Thee More Shallows, are making a break for a whole 'nother kinda big time. The top-notch indie rockers have signed to Bay Area out-hip-hop imprint Anticon.

Could such a deal have come to pass because a certain TMS band member is the landlord of another certain Anticon reg? Dunno - but I'm psyched that these guys will be getting more attention for their forthcoming album, Release Book of Bad Breaks, said to be full o' weird Casio, absolutely filthy breaks, and, whoa, French horn.

Thee More plans to tour more in May. That Kiss Me Deadly-style suitcase full o' gear is packed and ready to go.

We've told you before - and we'll tell you again: these Avett Bros. are strong. Strong, strong songwriters.

Country & Yaaarrrr. Courtesy of www.theavettbrothers.com.

The combo will be playing alongside Willie Nelson, Rage Against the Machine, Bjork, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Arcade Fire at this year's Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival on April 29. But if you're not going down then, see 'em tonight, Feb. 2, at Slim's, SF. That excuse about being scared of soaring standup basses ain't gonna fly anymore.

Gang of Four twiddler, meet a gang of three: Wet Confetti. Dave Allen, the G4 bassist, played on and produced the Portland, Ore., combo's new album, Laughing, Gasping. You can also catch the trio in Brendan Canty's third Burn to Shine DVD, along with Sleater-Kinney, the Decemberists, and the Shins - burning down the house with the sheer rock.

These kids will be playing at the Hemlock Tavern, tonight, Feb. 2, on a bill with the Fucking Ocean and Fierce Antler. Too much.

Whoa, news flash! If you love Royal Trux, you'll wanna get your ever-lovin' bad self down to the WC Warehouse/Ghost Town Gallery tonight, Feb. 2, to see Truxer Jennifer Herrema tear it up as RTX.

Herrema was in awesomely raspy form when she played Bottom of the Hill a few years ago (we won't even go into the nutty Cocodrie Royal Trux show further back). And though she only lives a hop, skip, and several hundred miles away in LA, this doesn't happen often, so...you know what you gotta do. And because it's a house party you'll have to figure out where WC Warehouse/Ghost Town Gallery is on your own. Doors open at 10 p.m., and Raspy Mugs and Hot Tubs open.

Expect Herrema to appear in other parts after the March release of her band's next album, Western Xterminator (Drag City). Get an eyeful of RTX though after the Oakland art crawl. If you can see through them bangs...

Bummer, dude. RTX canceled their WC Warehouse show Friday because they're van broke down outside of LA. Ah well, the Oakland Art Murmur was happening, as was the scene at the Warehouse (which was expecting a performance by Ariel Pink - hot from the Lipo - in RTX's stead but who knows if that ever happened). We pressed our noses to the glass of Mama Buzz's new cupcake cafe instead.

Guardian contributor Max Goldberg pointed to this sad news announcement on Pitchfork on the death of Cayce Lindner of Oakland band Flying Canyon:

"Cayce Lindner, frontman for self-described "California doom folk" band Flying Canyon, took his own life yesterday, Feb. 6. No further details are available regarding his death, nor do we know how old he was.

"Lindner, who lived in the Bay Area, was in the bands the Golden Hotel and the Goodwill Tapes before forming Flying Canyon with the Jewelled Antler collective's Glenn Donaldson and Shayde Sartin. He was also a filmmaker.

"Sidney Alexis Lindner, Cayce's brother, fronts the Portsmouth, New Hampshire band the Hotel Alexis. He was also in Golden Hotel with Cayce.

"Last fall, Soft Abuse released Flying Canyon's enchanting self-titled debut album. Our own Brandon Stosuy wrote, 'Lindner and friends carve out an erudite haze that foregoes caricature and wardrobe changes in favor of melody, inventive instrumentation, strong songwriting, and an honest, riveting charisma.'

Soft Abuse's Chris Berry said, 'We are deeply saddened and we're thinking of his friends and family.'"

Goldberg himself e-mailed: "I'd only actually seen the band play once (opening for Peter Walker at the 21 Grand), but just found out they were set to play at this show my housemate Dave is setting up in a couple of weeks in the Marin Headlands...."

Previously our man Max had praised the band, which consisted of various Skygreen Leopards: "The frontman's gruff, hard-drivin' hippie style is a welcome antidote to some of the more whimsical manifestations of psych folk."

For more on Flying Canyon, go to their myspace page.

Well, guess who got credentials to cover the Grammys on Feb. 11? Sure, I had a 12-hour chunk of Sunday to spare, so I drove down to Staples Center in LA and planted myself in the radio/TV pit to fire questions at the hapless Ike Turker. The man has the most powerful gaze in show biz.

The Ikester certainly dressed to impress. In a sea of Dixie Chicks and media working-stiffs in no-risk black and hip-hop stars in tasteful suits and untucked white shirts, Turner, who took home his first Grammy since 1972 for Best Traditional Blues Album, pushed the edges of good taste with a glittery lavender suit and a pink nehru collar shirt.

Love's got nothing to do with it - maybe. Courtesy of www.stuff.co.nz.

“I was hoping I wouldn’t win tonight, but next year,” he said backstage, describing his next album as a blues-hip-hop recording. “But I did.”

What does it mean, one intrepid reporter asked the man who wrote the first rock ‘n’ roll song, “Rocket 88.”

Turner furrowed his brow and trained a bad-ass glower in her direction, producer and son Ike Jr. by his side: “I dunno. It means that I’m still livin’.”

More excerpts from a Grammy reporter's notebook to come...

Ex's - you gotta hate 'em. The all-lady Husbands are proof positivo that you can rise above, take on the pard's name, and kick ass. Garage punk-a-go-go with gory good-time costumes to boot.

So it's perfecto that the Bay's very own Husbands are playing a very special V-Day show, the "Lock & Load Valentine's Day Formal," tonight, Feb. 14, with DJ Dulcinea at Thee Parkside, SF. 9 p.m. $5 formal dress; $7 casual duds. Sounds like a good time for tough girls, broken hearts, and those that love 'em. Saps, you can stay home.

More Grammy jottings from my laptop - and thoughts on how to come correct to the event:

What me, available? Courtesy of Fashion Wire Daily.

- Leave the bimbos and himbos at home, sort of. Pained-looking Best Pop Vocal Album winner John Mayer was Jessica Simpson-free. He stayed far, far away from the media suite. Practice your Japanese elsewhere, man. And Timberlake merely locked eyes with alleged squeeze Scarlet Johansson, on stage, doing her worst dumb blonde impersonation beside Don Henley who asked, “I heard you’re working on your first album.” “Do you have any advice?” she asked like a robotic starlet. “No,” he replied flatly in a kind of failed send-up of his reputation as a jerk.

Getting back to the himbos, etc.: who died and made Mayer and Timberlake America's foxiest? Ick - what a selection. I want to fast-forward to the next generation, Hotties 2.0.

Smells great!

- Have your own “Grammy Moment.” Translation: the revelation that comes when the plastic pop crap falls from the eyes and you realize...[insert epiphany here]. Mine arrived when I found Red Hot Chili Peppers aren’t so awful after all - despite their dull, cheesy performance at the Oakland Arena last year. Next to all the predigested pop of the former Disney shills and American Idol contestants, the Chili Peppers came off as icons of authenticity, a real band that got together for reasons other than commerce or celebrity, who were willing to riff beyond the carefully controlled parameters of Grandpa Grammys.

Drummer Chad Smith’s response to their Best Rock Album win: “Get out there and start a rock bands, kids. We need more rock bands!”

Later backstage, the band offered scatter-shot explanations with a nattily suited John Frusciante opining that rock has grown stale next to electronic music’s experimentation. Of the Dixie Chicks, Anthony Kiedis deadpanned, “I’m shocked they didn’t get the Best Rap Record.”

Gird your loins, twee poppers - Camera Obscura are back tonight, Feb. 16, at Bimbo's 365 Club, SF. And along for the ride with the Scottish charmers is their Merge Records boss Mac McCaughan, plying his Portastatic project, which has gotten mighty eclectic of late. A lame description, perhaps - but we have none other till we get more caffeine in our collective bods.

Our glum chums in Camera Obscura.

But hell, we are all too familiar with the last CO album, Let's Get Out of This Country. We can't get it out of our car CD player.

Oh I could have danced all night; I could go on forever about the Grammys. But I won't. I'll spare you. But here are a few last tidbits - just for laughs. Then we can roll over and forget about it all till next year.

- Wolfmother is currently demoing songs for possibly the next Spiderman installment, and frontperson Andrew Stockdale held forth on the hard psychedelic sound they’re bringing to modern rock radio: “I agree with Pete Townshend who said more rock bands should be more pretentious and more experimental with their sound.”

Are they planning on going psychedelic, asked one blinkered reporter. “We’ve already been there with our first, man,” Stockdale replied blissfully.

--Backstage, T.I. hawked his forthcoming fall 2007 movie with Russell Crow and RZA, American Gangster: "It's going to be in the Oscars, I assure you." Meanwhile he's working on a concept album featuring T.I. and an alterego TIP, due this year: "I don’t think anything has ever been done like it this far. Closest thing I can compare it to is the Marshall Mathers-Slim Shady ongoing feud that has been going on. I'm challenging myself in every way, writing and producing and arranging. It's also going to be a movie as well."

So who did he come with? "T.I. and TIP - they always roll with family," he answered impishly. "Probably with the same person that came with other award shows. So if you do your own research, you'll find your answer!"

- Lewis Black gets the nod for the most intentionally funny interview and acceptance speech for Best Comedy Album. Onstage he said: "All the guys who are nominated are tremendously gifted talents. You don’t honor comics often. You do shit - you play music. All I do is yak - I bullshit. I wanted to be a musician, I wanted to play the piano, and my piano teacher had arthritis and that really sets you back.”

Later backstage Black said of his fellow nominee, “George Carlin called me 15 years ago on the phone and said, ‘Sorry, there’s nothing I can do for your career,’ then I was able to take that and play it for my mother and shut her the fuck up.” His piano teacher “really did have arthritis and the room we played piano in smelled like death and it kind of took the joy out of it.” Bless him.

- After winning his Grammy, Chamillionaire sauntered backstage to offer a lowdown on his activities later that night (why did almost all the rappers dress almost alike - just as most of the women wore black; almost all the MCs were wearing suits with untucked white shirts): "Nothing too special [planned] - I rolled up on a Phantom, but only today. It goes back tomorrow.

"Now they," he pointed to his publicists in the audience, "want to go hit the clubs. And so I gotta go do the rapper," he made the quote marks with his fingers, "stuff. I'm going to do it for an hour, Tracy and Nancy, and then I'm going to go to sleep." The studio calls.

- Carrie Underwood came backstage wearing what looked like a black dress crossed with a shawl. The radio dudes behind me wolf whistled. Someone praised her performance at Clive Davis's party the previous night. "I think the scarier part is when I come with album two," she said. "I think it's going to be really nerve wracking."

Was there any doubt whether she'd be there if not for American Idol? Well, doit. "Absolutely no doubt that American Idol is why I'm here. My advice for anyone - try every avenue. It worked for me. I was in college when I decided to try out."

The really crucial question - was she seeing anyone? "Dateless and desperate," she quipped. Good thing she got saddled with "Desperado" during the Eagles tribute.

Ah, Mike Watt - bass god extraordinaire. Oh, Kira Roessler - former Black Flag bassist extraordinaire. The ex's, LA punk colleagues, and bandmates in dos head up to the Hemlock Tavern, SF, Saturday, Feb. 17. Expect low notes and awesome playing.

dos, right before going on stage at Ladyfest in Olympia, Wash., 2000.
Courtesy of Watt's Hoot Page.

Insane show alert - K.I.T. breaks out a new record on UK label Upset the Rhythm, Broken Voyage, alongside labelmates Death Sentence: Panda!, who are celebrating Festival of Ghosts. Be there or regret it bitterly, punker; the two bands perform tonight, Feb. 16, 8 p.m., with Holy Mountain free skronk combo Zdrastvootie and Kreamy 'Lectricsaanta at Artists Television Access, 992 Valencia, SF. It's all ages so whoop it up, kids.

Who are our pals K.I.T.? Guardian contribs Vice Cooler and George Chen get with Lil' Pocketknife's Kristy Geschwandtner and XBXRX's Steve Touchton. Enjoy!

Hint to the funsters who want to end the gorg day with tunes: If you're round the Golden Gate Bridge, check out the Tunnel Show of the Marin Headlands, which started at 3 p.m. today, Feb. 18.

Inside an old army barracks tunnel, there will be performances by Living Breathing Music, Hector Zapana, Ship Snowblink, Okay, and a classical Indian ensemble organized by Charles Lloyd.

In a town rife with electronic DJs and mellow indie bands, what’s a poor punk lover to do? Especially on a Monday night (otherwise known at most venues as either “open mic” or “fend for yourselves, you weekday drunks” night)? Is there an alternative to driving around in your friend’s old beater listening to Minor Threat on the tape deck?

The lucky answer is “yes.” Oh, yes.

There’s the Hemlock Tavern, that lovely not-quite-dive in the neighborhood-formerly-known-as-the-Tenderloin, with its four-year-old Monday night Punk Rock Sideshow (classic tunes and movies for those whose tastes tend more towards 7 Seconds than 30 Seconds to Mars) and its once-a-month free live punk shows (nice and early for those whose angst and anarchy is now relegated to the hours after 5 p.m. and before 9 a.m. Yes, even misfits sometimes have to work for the man…).

Last Monday, some friends and I made it in time to see Misled Citizen (like true aging punks, we were too busy napping to get there for Dead Ringers), a fast, loud, energetic fivesome playing old school punk to a crowd of spiky-haired, black-clad 20-somethings (including a great oi-oi cover of “The Boys Are Back in Town”). Afterwards, we chugged our PBR longnecks while bigscreens flashed '80s skater videos and a Mike Ness documentary and DJ Tragic and the Duchess of Hazard spun everything from Op Ivy to Propaghandi. And, of course, we ogled the eyeliner queens and tattooed kings in the indoor/outdoor smoking room.

It was fantastic, just like those shows we used to go to in high school -- minus the sticky floors and windowless warehouses and 14-year-old skinheads dominating the mosh pit. Perfect. Just the thing to get the thing taste of Bassnectar out of your mouth. (Molly Freedenberg)

Wow, imagine the thrill last night when at the end of my new favorite trash-TV guilty pleasure, the Coxuette tabloid FX dramedy Dirt, the teaser for the next episode unveiled the identity of the shadowy figure that was stalking Courtney Cox's Goth-wax figure tab editor: Vincent Gallo! Mission Creek Music Fest folkster, filmmaker, bon vivant.

In "This Is Not Your Father's Hostage Situation," Gallo's ex-child-star character rushes the DirtNow building, trapping the sleazy publisher and equally slimy cub reporter in their supply closet makeout room and inspiring Cox to promise Gallo, "I'll make you a star!" In exchange for letting them go, of course.

From the looks of the preview for the show - first airing Tuesday, Feb. 27 - Gallo's crazy-eyed reply appears to be: "I'm already a star!"

P.S. And guess who's slated to reappear at this year's Mission Creek music fest?

Guardian contributor George Chen points to this announcement by Alan and Richard Bishop on Foxy Digitalis yesterday, Feb. 20:

RIP Charles Gocher of Sun City Girls

With deep regret, we must announce that Charles Gocher passed away yesterday in Seattle due to a long battle with cancer at the age of 54. He is survived by the two of us who adopted him as a brother 25 years ago and his many friends around the world. He will be missed more than most could ever know. Our thanks to everyone for their support and encouragement during the past three, very difficult years. Many of you were not aware that Charles was ill and that's because he wanted it that way. Details of a memorial in his honor will be announced soon.

Save your last languid dance for them. Guardian contributor Max Goldberg has a new project, warbling with the group, Snowblink.

Snowblink's Daniela Gesundheit is in control.
her band's most recent disc, My Oh My Avalanche,
has a firm grasp of folky prettiness too.

Tonight, Feb. 22, the band hosts a "Slow Dance Night" at the Make-Out Room with very special guests: at 9 p.m., five boys and a lady, each front-people of his and her own San Francisco band, will sing a slow-dance song with nothing more than a guitar to "eschew their machismo," Goldberg e-mails. Performers include Martin of the White White Quilt, Nat Russell of Birds of America, Mike Sempert of Birds & Batteries, Frank Lyon of Ship, Abby G, and Joseph Childress. Dancing sweet and slow will be the guiding principle for the earlier part of the evening.

The slow dance portion will be followed by Bay Area-by-way-of-Brooklyn Dirty Projectors touring multi-instrumentalist Angel Deradoorian. At 11 p.m., Snowblink will, Goldberg, writes, "do it the way we do it." DJ duo Ribbons will close out the night with fast dance songs.

All that aerobic lovin' begins at 9 p.m. and costs $7. Smoochers can find the Make-Out Room at 3225 22nd St., SF.

Shed "96 Tears" for ? of garage rock legends ? and the Mysterians. ?'s home in Clio, Mich., burned down to the ground on Jan. 9 - and he lost five Yorkies!

So we're asking you to shake your tail feather for ? at Annie's tonight, Feb. 22. SLA is supposedly going to give their last performance ever, alongside the Flakes, Harold Ray Live in Concert, and the Impediments. The show starts at 10 p.m., and the sliding-door donation is $5-$10.


No question about the loss for ? Courtesy of http://96tears.net/.

Guardian contributor Chris Sabbath caught the Grizzly Bear show at Great American Music Hall on Feb. 20. Here's his review:

Upon purchasing Grizzly Bear’s first full-length, Horn of Plenty (Kanine), two years ago as one of those 99-cent treasures on Amazon.com or something, my immediate assumption was that Edward Droste and his Brooklyn buds would probably be one of those hyped bands that just didn’t work out. I wrote the groups syrupy, psych-folk bedroom rock off as “music for the unmasses”: a tail-feather grappler (Animal Collective, in this case) touring the country 10 months of the year and playing in rinky-dink art spaces with bad paintings and hole-in-the-wall dives to the other bands and their girlfriends.

But fast forward to Tuesday night’s sold-out show at the Great American Music Hall, and Droste and his band - comprising drummer Christopher Bear, bassist Chris Taylor, and guitarist Daniel Rossen - were all giving me the finger instead.

Who knew Reno was the bowling capital of the US of A? This after catching the new feature film Reno 911: Miami (below), which proved to be something of a laugh riot earlier this week.

Right now I'm hanging in Reno, catching the Who at the Reno Event Center (more long-tressed gray-hairs in one spot, perusing Who souvenir booklets, than I've seen since, well, ever, 'cause I've never seen the Who live before) and Taiwanese pop star Tsai Chin tonight, Feb. 24, at Grand Sierra Resort and Casino (more Chinese families in one spot than I've seen since, well, the last SF Lunar New Year parade), and checking the resort's 24-hour 40-something bowling alley. But lo, today I happened to stumble over the city's National Bowling Stadium.

A giant silver ball dome, a hundred lanes, a crazy Remington-style bronze statue featuring, not wild horses or cowboys, but Pippi Longstocking-esque bowlers zanily swinging bowling bags. Guys with guts swinging balls. Visions of The Big Lebowski rumble through the skull.

Guardian intern Sam Devine shares his latest obsession:

So I've been listening to the newly reissued A-Team soundtrack while at work. Which, yes, is probably dangerous. I feel more afraid of flying and I could go for a cheap cigar if pair of leather driving gloves were provided.

But mostly, as I hear the A-Team's theme repeated over and over, set against various cliché '70s arrangements, I can't help but think: This is the best possible combined rip-off of the Temptations and Aaron Copland that could ever be imagined!

The A-Team's main theme is a driving snare drum and bombastic, uplifting, horns followed by ornamental swells from the strings. Likewise, in "Rodeo" by Aaron Copland, the main theme is driving percussion and bombastic, uplifting, horns followed by ornamental swells from the strings.

In a similar sense, the A-Team's countertheme is such a direct lift from "Get Ready ('Cause Here I Come)," by the Temptations, that you can almost hear Paul Williams singing, "I never met a girl who makes me feel / The way that you do (you're alright!)"

Just think - A-Team composers Mike Post & Pete Carpenter were able to squeeze out five seasons worth of soundtrack material just by pairing a piece of 20th century composition with a bit of classic Motown. Makes me want to try writing a symphony based around selections of Bela Bartok and Diana Ross.

I hope it works out. I love when a plan comes together.

The line outside Mezzaninelast night may have been ridiculously long (the hidden cost of “free” admission), and the venue may have reeked of body odor (or cheap weed?), but both were worth the entertaining, irreverent kick off to a week of Noise Pop fun. We were immediately heartened that we all got in, even though I was the only one who’d registered online, and that the DJ was playing catchy, pseudo-indie (since what does “indie” mean anymore, anyway?) classics like the Ramones and Violent Femmes between sets.

And though there was plenty of hipster eye candy, the place was noticeably devoid of the pretentiousness one might expect from an event headed by uber-underground-cult-favorites Tapes n Tapes. No, we were all equally, geekily excited by the Extra Action Marching Band (your high school half-time show meets Rocky Horror Picture Show, complete with tattooed tuba players and provocative pom pom girls … and boys), comedian David Cross (managing to simultaneously deliver and skewer sponsor Doc Martens’ marketing message – “Change the world, starting by buying these shoes…”), and one man freakshow – and talented vocalist and performer - Har Mar Superstar (whose mantra “I’m fucking awesome” is so ironic, it’s actually true).

The highlight of the night, though, was Tapes ‘N’ Tapes, all humble and sweet and soft-bodied and dorky, just like a proper indie band should be. The sound up front was a bit too loud and distorted for my taste (I hear the music sounded perfect from the bathroom), but the band’s energy mostly made up for it -- and Cowbell was perfect: raw and lilting, just like I like it.

Mmmmm….poppy goodness at its noisiest. I can’t wait to see what the rest of the week serves up.

P.S. More photos to come...

(By Molly Freedenberg)