Juan, two, three: the Juan Maclean. Photo by Troy Bayless.

By Kimberly Chun

Impressionistic sketches, hazy watercolor memories of the way I listened last week, before the veil of forgetfulness falls.

Dang, I wish I had a proper camera in hand to get my shutterbug on at Peaches. The lady wasn't going to let a little vault fire get in the way of her Grand Ballroom performance on June 5: she remains one of the most riveting performers to come out of electroclash on a sheer show-womanship level, and now that she has her live band, the Herms, complete with a leggy, black corseted blond guitar player who obligingly shimmies along to the boss lady's "Shake your tits, shake your dick," she's pretty unstoppable. Essentially - no lie - everyone in the room could not tear their eyes away from Peaches' ever-shifting spectacle, even if Vault Fire II broke out in the next room.

One-man UK opener Drums of Death made me consider suicide, but Peaches made up for it with a bout of crowd-surfing, a romp at the outer edge of the balcony, a slew of impressive costume changes (she poked fun at herself by coming out onstage in a robe at one point), and plenty of brain-teasing visuals, including a video-projected duet with Shunda K of Yo Majesty for "Billionaire" and a dance with super-shaggy Cousin-Its to the tune of "Talk to Me."

The next night, June 6, saw Stockholm's Axel Willner, otherwise known as the Field, hunkered down behind the decks at Mezzanine, opening for the Juan Maclean. Love the dreamy new long-player, though the show drew more from a minimalist techno vein, with assists from Dan Enqvist and Andreas Soderstrom. Still, it was mesmerizing - especially accompanied by video art that spliced images of shipping containers stacks with book piles. I stayed for just a dab of the Juan Maclean, who rocked the Human League-y robotic-pop vibe with mucho energy. Kudos to those who can pull off a nice, big Romulan shoulder pad - I'm scouring the thrift stores for mine soon. The kids were dancing as I departed amid complaints of pop monotony from companion Prof. Fluffy.

Continue reading "Show Diary: Neko Case/Jason Lytle, Peaches, Juan McLean/the Field, Telepathe, Handsome Furs, Au Revoir Simone" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 10:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Memorial Day weekend - the wind is down, and the moment has come to break out the hibachi, dust off those sassy hot pants, and kick back for at least a day or three. And of course, there's more worthy music to fit in there, in between the sunbathing, cookie-baking, and electroclashing.

Fischerspooner
Does the GE halo give me a double chin? And does it electroclash with the rubber tubing? The jaw-dropping live act whips out a dour, synthpop Entertainment, as well as a new stage show. Fri/22, 9 p.m., $29.50. Fillmore, 1805 Geary, SF. (415) (415) 421-8497.

TV on the Radio and Dirty Projectors
The praise-rattled TVs were peppy as all get out at Treasure Island fest last year - and here they come again with the better-than-ever Dirty Projs, which blew everyone away at SXSW this spring. Fri/22, 8 p.m., $30. Fox Theatre, 1807 Telegraph, Oakl. (415) 421-8497.

Continue reading "Sonic Reducer Overage: TV on the Radio, Bun B, Fischerspooner, Webbie, Floating Goat, Passion Pit, and more" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 01:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Text and photos by Ariel Soto

Yonder Mountain String Band has serious groupies. I mean really hardcore groupies. I talked to several String Band fans in the audience before the show. For one person it was his 36th time seeing Yonder Mountain and he has plans to follow the band through California and then up to Oregon for their tour. There was another woman in the audience who said she saw them at least 70 times ... how is that even possible? By then I was excited for the show to get started -- who were these string strummers? Once the band made its way to the stage the Fillmore was thoroughly saturated with sweet smelling smoke, feet were stomping, and hippy skirts were twirling as the folksy, bluegrass notes weaved their way between the band's eager, dare I say, obsessed, devotees.

Continue reading "Live Shots: Yonder Mountain String Band at the Fillmore, 4/10" »

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Posted by SFBG at 06:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

By Todd Lavoie

BOSQUE BROWN

Baby

(Burnt Toast Vinyl)

One should be easily forgiven for thinking that Bosque Brown is the effort of one person, recorded under a group-name alias, a la Cat Power/Chan Marshall -- vocalist/songwriter Mara Lee Miller is such a dynamic presence on its just-released disc Baby that it isn't too tough to imagine everything coming from a single creative force. In reality, the Denton, Texas spinetinglers are a sextet, named for the Bosque River which runs through town; not sure about the “Brown” part, other than the color choice connotes an earthiness reflective of their rustic Americana bent. Miller's haunting visions -- funneled through an alluringly dusty twang and slow-drawled delivery -- are singular enough to separate the band from the ever-swelling masses of No Depression devotees, but her partners' careful construction of sighing backdrops and moody undercurrents not only testifies to their strength as an ensemble, but also adds more than a few exclamation points to their must-hear status.

There is something in the tense hushes and quiet understatement creaking away in the background which brings to mind a more melancholic Hem, or perhaps even a nervier Cowboy Junkies, circa The Trinity Session (1988, RCA). It also wouldn't take too much of a leap in imagination to consider Baby a spiritual cousin to Cat Power's immaculately restrained Moon Pix (1998, Matador). As you might have figured from the aforementioned reference points, there are shiver-inducing moments a-plenty here.

Bosque Brown, "On and Off"

Continue reading "Bosque Brown rides a haunting river through 'Baby'" »

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Posted by SFBG at 01:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

San Francisco just can't, just won't stop. More musical - and comedic - worthies than one can jam into print.

The Get Up Kids
These lesser-known monsters of emo, progenitors of punk-pop, are back. With Approach. Thurs/2, 8 p.m., $26-$29. Great American Music Hall, 859 O’Farrell, SF. (415) 885-0750.

Continue reading "Sonic Reducer Overage: Snoop Dogg, Eugene Mirman, Jeremy Jay, Skin Horse, and so much more" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 02:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

BONNIE “PRINCE” BILLY
Beware
(Drag City)

After multiple career tangents, name changes, and rambles hither and yon, Bonnie “Prince” Billy, ne Will Oldham, appears to have finally arrived. The accolades are pouring in from NPR to small-town daily newspapers -- a marvel when one considers the fact that the Louisville, Ky., post-punk scene that Oldham sprang from was so roundly ignored during its most vital years in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, when Squirrel Bait, Slint, and later Oldham and brothers Ned and Paul performed as Palace (Brothers/Songs/Music).

The most accessible, clean, and least eccentric recording to date from Oldham, Beware might be considered the recording in which the songwriter assumes his rightful place in the current rock canon as the music-maker who prefigured the so-called freak/out-folk scene and the enabler and encourager of such talents as Joanna Newsom and Dawn McCarthy.

This time, his roving sensibility finds its soothingly smooth fit with help from Josh Abrams of Town and Country, Emmett Kelly of Cairo Gang, Akita Youssefi, Jon Langford of the Mekons, Rob Mazurek of Isotope 217, and renowned pedal steel session player Greg Leisz, among others - likely his most accomplished set of contributors to date. Still, despite Beware’s full-bodied, country-soul sound, I feel almost nostalgic for the humanizing glitchy folk Palace and early Bonnie “Prince” Billy was known for - perhaps that’s just my indie rock values rearing their scruffy heads.

Continue reading "Don't fear Bonnie "Prince" Billy - 'Beware' marks his most accessible effort to date" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 07:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By the light of the moon: PJ Harvey and John Parrish at Stubb's.

South by Southwest peters out with... Peter, Bjorn and John. Actually, not really - I dig those Scandinavian whistle-bait popsters and they were playing multiple shows - but there were other less familiar artists and rare diversions to seek out on Saturday, March 21, in Austin, Texas.

The sweet 'n' sunny Saturday morn started with slowly with some quality, low-price thrifting at Texas Thrift Store (Joanna Newsom and folk-psych gals would have appreciated the dusty rose, homemade patchwork vest and nautilus-shell purse) and a visit to western wear superstore Shepler's, both off I-35. Then off to the Convention Center - which, by the end of the week during each SXSW, starts to seem a little like home (that is, if home was strewn with fat bundles of The Austin Chronicle and free bottles of Fuze green tea). There, Neil Young's famed manager Elliott Roberts and his documentarian Larry Johnson talked up Young's forthcoming series of box sets, starting with Neil Young Archives Volume 1 (1963-1972), on BluRay, DVD, and CD. Pretty amazing stuff - the BluRay edition will offer interactive components that will allow Young and company to offer up new photos, music, and film when they become available (one example, Robert said, are the Mynah Birds recordings made by Young and Rick James, which aren't the now-locked box set - they just managed to license the tracks from Motown so when they're available the BluRay owners will be notified and can likely download them directly).

Mystery crust theater: Imperial Battlesnake takes aim.

Pedal mettle: Increased bike presence at this year's SXSW and surrounding day shows.

Continue reading "SXSW: Petering out with PJ Harvey, AIDS Wolf, Moriarty, Sons of Albion, and more" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 04:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

More Mochi: 215 the Freshest Kids hurl some words at Daly City Records' Pre-SXSW/St. Patrick's Day Party at Beso Cantina March 17. All photos by Kimberly Chun.

Or is a whimper more accurate. Yes, the signs are in the air and in the program, as we scan the pages of the official guide and the unofficial day party lists. Welcome to South by Southwest on the downlow, rocked by the turbulent winds blowing off a global economic meltdown.

The big conference keynote names like Pete Townshend, Neil Young, Robert Plant, and Lou Reed? This year we get the uber-talented and esteemed but nonetheless much less sexy - sorry, Quince - Quincy Jones. Instead of the Stooges and Morrissey, we will have onstage interviews with Carlene Carter and the Hold Steady. The corporate banners are still here, but with a not-quite-as-splashy, diminished presence - just where is that MySpace South By Party Bus? The major labels and glossy publications are quieter than usual - whither the Vice party? Is there a Vice party?

Instead Rachael Ray - wholesome indie rock fan incarnate - is serving up the New York Dolls and the aforementioned Hold Steady at her showcase. Hey, after all, we're all eating in these days - we can use some new recipes. This is SXSW on the cheap, forced onto a low-budg diet by a still-suffering music biz. Yes, music continues unabated, but can its makers afford to make it out here this year? The underground bashes around SXSW appear to slowing down or maybe they just aren't on the public radar - in any case I still want to make Todd P's Ms. Bea free all-ages shows and the French Legation outdoor bills - now Arthur-free (R.I.P.). We'll see if there's anything as fun as Dan Deacon and Fucked Up's guerrilla throwdowns shaking up the university campus and the bridge, after hours.

Continue reading "SXSW: It begins... with a whisper?" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 01:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Men at work: MSTRKRFT's "Work on You."

Yes, San Francisco, you're unstoppable. As usual, the city by the Bay bays - nay - howls at the moon. More worthy sounds that didn't make it to print.

Judgement Day
The Bay Area band is using the tools of Bach and Beethoven for... devil horn-throwin' eve-ill! Wed/18, 8 p.m., $10. Cafe du Nord, 2170 Market, SF. (415) 861-5016.

Eleni Mandell and Victor Krummenacher
The LA singer-songwriter strikes an arch, jazzy note with her praised **Artificial Fire** (Zedtone) and the ex-**Guardian** art director digs deep with **Patriarch’s Blues** (MagneticMotorworks, 2008). Thurs/19, 8 p.m., $12-$15. Cafe du Nord, 2170 Market, SF. (415) 861-5016.

Continue reading "Sonic Reducer Overage: Farflung, MSTRKRFT, Eleni Mandell, the Homosexuals, and mo'" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 12:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

FANCY DAN BAND
Born Fancy
(self-released)

By Andre Torrez

"I bet you clean up real nice, fancy as can be, but I'm sorry to say, you'll never be as fancy as me." Ouch! Mr. Fancy Pants. With such confident lyrics set to a boom-chic-a-boom rockabilly beat, the Fancy Dan Band's debut, Born Fancy, is a winner. Frontman Fancy Dan is a Midwest-meets-West transplant, and his Bay Area band plays with enough barn-burning energy to make grandpa wanna hoe-down. No, really. The lyric is a throwback to the style of country pioneer Hank Williams, with the musicianship of Junior Brown and the flavor of Chuck Berry.

After realizing his dream was to be a country-folk vocalist, Dan decided to pack his bags and head out to the coast. Along the way, he made this album - the fruit of a three-day whirlwind Nashville pilgrimage last summer, boasting first-rate musicians on drums, upright bass, and electric guitar.

Sounds pretty traditional, I know, but in the realm of country, stars often take themselves far too seriously. It’s refreshing to hear these guys employ a bit of playfulness and what I hope is a pseudo-cockiness. For instance, the song “Wake Up Fancy” hinges on a wonderfully silly, self-referential double entendre concerning Dan's greatness. I imagine him pulling away the sheets in the morning, already wearing a pristine pressed white suit and cocking his feathered hat just so in the mirror. Much like the picture on the album cover. Fancy.

FANCY DAN BAND
March 21, call for time and price.
Café International
508 Haight, SF
(415) 552-7390

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 01:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Woof! Har Mar Superstar's "DUI."

You're stormy, San Francisco - yet you still partay like no other city. Here's even more worthy music - more than we could squeeze into print.

Har Mar Superstar
Sean Tillmann, Sean Na Na - hey whatever your name is: we know you got the stuff to write songs for the Cheetah Girls. With the New Trust and the Limousines. Wed/5, 8 p.m., $12. Rickshaw Stop, 155 Fell, SF. (415) 861-2011.

M. Ward
She and Him? No, him! The former South Bay teacher has made a pretty swell name for himself - though I'd love from him to break out of his Hold Time (Merge) shell.
Wed/5, 8 p.m., $29.50. Palace of Fine Arts, 3301 Lyon, SF. (415) 563-6504.

Color me evocative: Christopher Willits' "Colors Shifting."

Ghostly International Live
Michna, Tycho, Christopher Willits, and other phantoms party like it’s the label’s 10-year anniversary. With the Sight Below, Lusine, Kate Simko, Deru, and Eliot L. Fri/6, 10 p.m. doors, $15-$20. Mezzanine, 444 Jessie, SF. (415) 820-9669.

Continue reading "Sonic Reducer Overage: Ghostly, M. Ward, Har Mar Superstar, and so much more" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 05:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Plucky: Port O'Brien at Cafe du Nord. All photos by Ariel Soto.

By Ariel Soto

Deep from within the depths of Cafe Du Nord came sounds of ships and seafarers, as Port O'Brien took the stage Friday, Feb. 27, for a concert that could have literally rocked a boat. They shared the stage with Afternoons, who got the whole house dancing, and Odawas, who told the audience "We may not be what you want... but we're what you need."

Dancing daze: Afternoons.

Continue reading "Noise Pop: Port O'Brien, Odawas, Afternoons find safe harbor at Cafe du Nord" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 10:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Danica Li

If you know the Gourds, you know them prolific Texan folk don't take things lying down - especially when there's a frenetic album-a-year quota to be maxed out around these parts. Alternative country, progressive bluegrass, or whatever you want to call it, the Austin, Texas, honky-tonk veterans have been making sweet music since the dawn of the '90s, when multi-instrumentalists Kevin "Shinyribs" Russell and Jimmy Smith formed the group alongside drummer Charlie Llewellin and accordionist Claude Bernard. A bit of member reshuffling later, the band emerged with a new drummer and Max Johnston of Wilco fame manning the banjos, and has kept that rotation ever since.

Continue reading "Live wires: the Gourds set for Slim's showdown" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 08:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Danica Li

It's about time that the lineups for the two biggest of the bigwig music festivals on the continent, Coachella and Bonnaroo, leaked online, precipitated by a now traditional annual flurry of bizarre Internet rumors, faux photo-manipped posters, and jittery, cross-fingered posts on Stereogum. Naturally there's plenty of cross-pollination between the two, and no stunners, except that Phish hasn't played Bonnaroo ever before, where most of the bands on both lineups are religious frequenters of music festivals as well-established as South by Southwest in Austin, Texas, and as far-flung as the Roskilde Festival in Denmark and Punkkelpop in Belgium.

The big names aren't so dimunitive, but then Coachella has a long and storied history of luring in bomb marquee reunions that it's struggled to live up to since the legendary Pixies jammed together onstage in 2004. Paul McCartney headlines on Friday, the Killers on Saturday, and the Cure on Sunday. My Bloody Valentine's playing on Sunday, too, while Leonard Cohen, Superchunk, Okkervil River, Morrissey, MSTRKRFT, Franz Ferdinand, Girl Talk, Crystal Castles, TV on the Radio, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Throbbing Gristle, and Lykke Li are all scheduled to play during the fest's three days of music, California sunshine, and wacky art installations.

Continue reading "Does Coachella or Bonnaroo have the better lineup?" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 09:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

By Michelle Broder Van Dyke

Nashville singer-songwriter Todd Snider has been making folk-rock croons since 1994, but his last three albums have shown an evolving sound that lends itself more towards protest cries than an apathetic hipster generation is used to hearing.

His most recent eight-track EP, Peace Queer (Mega Force, 2008), springs an attack on Dubya (it was released on Oct. 14 before we knew who his predecessor would be), war, and the state of the nation with clever, literate lyrics that Snider says are meant for him (“I share them with you because they rhyme / I did not do this to change your mind about anything / I did this to ease my own mind about everything”). That statement seems as true as this non-commercial album - in title, cover, distribution strategy, spoken word pieces, and length - and reinforces Snider’s sincerity.

Continue reading "Beyond apathy: Todd Snider to deliver 'Peace Queer' musings at Great American" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 09:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Wanna see my 'stache: Eagles of Death Metal's "Solid Gold."

Confucius may not have approved of 1015's big ole Chinese NY beat-down - but, hey, he never really knew how to par-tay. Here's more fun schtuff that shoulda, coulda, but didn't make it to print.

Delta Spirit
Northern soul and indie rock - just the combo for the San Diego unit. With Other Lives and Dawes. Wed/4, 8:30 p.m. doors, $12. Bottom of the Hill, 1233 17th St., SF. (415) 621-4455.

Origami Ghosts
Raul Sanchez hosts the contemplative Seattle indie-rockers at his monthly semi-acoustic Penny Arcade showcase. With Eyes, Il Gato, and Floating Robot Familiar. Wed/4, 8 p.m., $7. Make-Out Room, 3225 22nd St., SF. (415) 647-2888.

Continue reading "Sonic Reducer Overage: Social Distortion, SF Bluegrass Festival, Eagles of Death Metal, Chinese NY dance party, and more" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 05:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This in from the folks with the folks who give you Hardly Strictly Bluegrass:

“Normally known as the man who brings you the fabulous Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival in Golden Gate Park each year, this weekend you will have the chance to see Warren Hellman in his other guise: that of humble banjo player. Warren will be sitting in with the inimitable Ron Thomason (leader and humorist of Dry Branch Fire Squad) and Heidi Clare (fiddler and clogger extraordinaire, formerly with old-time band Reeltime Travelers) at their show in Sausalito on Saturday, Jan. 31. A good time is guaranteed by all so get there early to get a seat!”

RON THOMASON, WARREN HELLMAN, AND HEIDI CLARE
Sat/31, 8 p.m., $15 donation
Sausalito Presbyterian Church
112 Bulkley, Sausalito
(415) 383-8716

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 03:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Color blogged: Metronomy's "Radio Ladio."

Hey, get out! Here are a few more shows that make it worth missing - or recording - the new episodes of Lost and Battlestar Galactica.

Tippy Canoe
Let the uke revolution carry on - thanks to strummer stunners Tippy Canoe of Oakland and Anna Ash of Ann Arbor, Mich. With Antonetteg. Wed/21, 9 p.m., $6. Hemlock Tavern, 1131 Polk, SF. (415) 923-0923.


Metronomy
Creepy, conceptual electronic pop, anyone? The UK combo brings out the breakbot - just for fun - in honor of Popscene. With the Mae Shi. Thurs/22, 10 p.m., $12. Popscene, 330 Ritch, SF. (415) 902-3125.

Continue reading "Sonic Reducer Overage: Metronomy, Bored Stiff, Extra Action, and so much more" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 06:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Alternate Nation statesmen: Meat Puppets.

Get out, SF - get out... and check out the music pouring the streets of Grog City.

Slough Feg and Hatchet
His majesty meets the teen metallists, thanks to Lucifer's Hammer. With Passive Aggressive. Wed/14, 9 p.m., $7. Elbo Room, 647 Valencia, SF. (415) 552-7788.

Devil Makes Three
Devil lovers gathered round for the band's set at Treasure Island music fest. Thurs/15, 6 p.m., free. Amoeba Music, 2455 Telegraph, Berk. (510) 549-1125.

Continue reading "Sonic Reducer Overage: Meat Puppets, Devil Makes Three, Jeremy Pelt, and Mo!" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 02:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Kimberly Chun

Jack White and company push forward with their passion for American roots music with this video collaboration - a rework of the Raconteurs' single, "Old Enough," shot by rock photographer Autumn de Wilde - alongside longtime bluegrass revivalist Ricky Skaggs and country vocalist Ashley Monroe.

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 03:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Todd Lavoie

Bowler hats, banjos, backwoods hollers, and burlesque hawkers - sounds like old-timey goodness to me. San Diego's mountain music-loving vaudeville-revivalists the Silent Comedy will be dishing out sepia-toned balladry and carny-shouted hootenannies to the Café du Nord crowd Friday, Nov. 21.

It should be one hell of a rompin'-stompin', suspender-slappin' shindig. Whether or not the band will share their homebrewed bathtub-gin onstage remains to be seen, but they're certain to be generous with everything else you might need for a round or two of Prohibition-era revelry. OK, the bathtub-gin thing is pure speculation on my part; what else could possibly be fueling their deliciously unbridled rip-ups?

The quintet, formed in 2005 by brothers J. John and J. Benjamin from the remnants of their San Diego post-punk band Dehra Dun, is rooted in acoustic-based roots music - banjo, mandolin, and violin figure prominently - but indie rock has clearly played a significant role in shaping how they approach country and folk idioms.

Continue reading "Sounding out on the Silent Comedy's backwoods indie rock" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 09:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

CASTANETS
City of Refuge
(Asthmatic Kitty)

By Todd Lavoie

I've never been to Overton, Nevada - the tiny desert nowhere situated about an hour's drive northeast of Las Vegas - and frankly, I doubt I ever will. It sounds like a blink-and-you'd-miss-it sort of place. Unincorporated and without a single stoplight, Overton probably doesn't want any visitors, anyway.

Still, despite the town's lack of obvious welcome signs along the road, Castanets mastermind Ray Raposa decided that this was the perfect spot to plunk down his roots for a few weeks to record his fourth album, City of Refuge. While driving through town, he must have felt the tug of silence, of complete isolation, and found it too tough to resist - thus temporarily placing his road trip on hiatus, Raposa holed up in a room in a mom-and-pop motel and set out to capture the unforgiving Southwestern landscape in song.

It was an idea which he had been tossing around prior to encountering Overton, but everything began to gel once he'd set up camp in this scrap-of-humanity no one ever visits. He'd found his muse, as unlikely and foreboding as it might be to the rest of us. Having listened rather intently to the latest Castanets offering, I would venture to say that Raposa didn't merely capture the desert - the desert seems to have captured him as well. Stark, bleak, and jittering from a hushed, teeth-clenched tension from start to finish, City of Refuge is a gripping dispatch from the wobbling point between solitude and madness.

Continue reading "Seeking 'Refuge' in Castanets" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 02:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

AXTON KINCAID
Silver Dollars
(Free Dirt/ Trade Root Music Group)
By Todd Lavoie

Bay Area three-part-harmony whizzes Axton Kincaid might no longer remain as geographically close to each other - three-fifths of the band recently relocated to Portland, Ore. - but their musical kinship appears as mighty as ever with their latest release, Silver Dollars.

Dishing out 11 barnburners, honky-tonk stompers, and beer-sobbers over the course of 35 minutes, these folks are the real deal: genuine, heartfelt, and pleasantly irony-free. While some of the younger, urban exponents of rootsy sounds tend to approach country, folk, and bluegrass idioms with a bit of emotional distance, Axton Kincaid feel closer to the source - not to mention more reverential to the material which inspired them in the first place.

Many months ago, I’d described the band as an updated Carter Family. The assessment still rings true, but I’d also stick them in the same class as the Be Good Tanyas, Freakwater, or the Walkabouts, all of whom display an obvious love for classic twang while still bringing a little contemporary attitude along the way.

Continue reading "Axton Kincaid gets close to the source with their new release" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 09:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

JERRY DOUGLAS
Glide
(Koch)

By Todd Lavoie

Universally regarded as the finest dobro player in contemporary music, Jerry Douglas has long been the go-to source for the most evocative of resonator-guitar textures.

Starting off as a session musician back in the '70s and '80s - and having worked along the way with everyone from bluegrass pioneers David Grisman and Ricky Skaggs to country artists as varied as Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, and Trisha Yearwood - Douglas eventually launched a solo career which established him as one of the forerunners of the burgeoning "newgrass" movement. Proponents of the newgrass sound wanted to expand the boundaries of bluegrass by drawing from other traditional acoustic-based styles - particularly jazz - and the drive to rescue the dobro from pigeonholing was certainly understandable, given the perceived limitations many folks had up until that point.

The instrument has been frequently, almost predictably, used in film and television scores to introduce a Southern setting - often rural and run-down in nature - thanks to its ability to fashion moods from its lazy slides between notes. Sure, its "we'll-get-there-when-we-do" slides and slow finger-pickings easily summon up images of sweltering afternoons under a merciless sun. But the dobro can do so much more - and Douglas has made it his mission to prove exactly that.

Continue reading "The dobro mastery of Jerry Douglas in all its glory on 'Glide,' at Hardly Strictly Bluegrass" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 08:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

He won't back down: Tom Petty. All photos by El Fotografo Clandestino.

El Fotografo Clandestino took in the second day, Saturday, Aug. 23, at the Outside Lands music fest in Golden Gate Park, SF. Here are a few of the sights - expect more in this space.

Lupe Fiasco in your face.

The Coup keep it real.


Cake beneath the bowers.

Continue reading "Outside Lands day two: Petty, Lupe, Rupa, Coup, Tacuba, and more" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 09:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Ah, Tara Jane O'Neil - how I admired her indie rock Rodan project from afar and dug her raw-as-rain country-folk Retsin collaboration with Cynthia Nelson. Now the currently Portland, Ore., resident is back in town and showing off all sides of her fine, multi-faceted self: she'll showcase her latest acoustic musings - found on **In Circles** (Touch and Go) - at Hemlock Tavern on Saturday, Aug. 2; exhibiting her artwork alongside pieces by Vanessa Renwick at Needles and Pens' "Cackle Cackle Rackle," which opens Friday, Aug. 1; and, word has it, will give a "magical PowerPoint presentation" at Sadies Flying Elephant, Sunday Aug. 3. Whew. Plenty of opps to catch the woman who makes "evocative dream music based on the buzz and hum of the city’s late night symphonies" (so says The Wire).

TARA JANE O'NEIL
With PALMS and Katy Davidson
Sat/2, 9:30 p.m., $7
Hemlock Tavern
1131 Polk, SF
(415) 923-0923

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 11:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Heeb mag's Diamond Days - just what brings it to the Bay from Brooklyn? There's no denying that the lineup is doozy, including Audacity, Fences, Glitter Wizard, Thee Makeout Party, Tiny Vipers, Ellen Mary McGee, and Young Animals, as well as a slew of local talents. I traded e-mails with Heeb magazine publisher Josh Neuman and associate editor Amy Westervelt to find out more.

SFBG: How did Diamond Days originate?

Amy Westervelt: It started last year in Brooklyn as sort of a throw-back to music shows you and your friends might have put together in high school or college. One of Heeb's contributing editors, Jay Diamond, grew up in the ‘burbs of Chicago playing in bands and putting together shows and he wanted to recreate that fun, but focus it on really great local bands in Brooklyn. After the first fest, we really wanted to recreate it in different parts of the country.

Josh Neuman: The fest is partially named in honor of Jay, and partially an homage to a Vashti Bunyan song, which is everything a summer song should be.

SFBG: Why did it move from Brooklyn to Oakland this year?

Continue reading "Shining a light on the Diamond Days '08 music fest" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 11:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

EMMYLOU HARRIS
All I Intended to Be
(Nonesuch)

A little context before launching into a rush of superlatives over Emmylou Harris' new stunner, All I Intended to Be: back in 1995, Harris made an abrupt - and enormously successful - career turn with the release of her classic Wrecking Ball (Elektra), a haunting, endlessly layered collection of shimmers and swirls deeply steeped in atmosphere by producer Daniel Lanois. Largely gone was the country traditionalism associated with her most well-known work, and instead she'd offered up one of the decade's boldest, most compellingly adventurous torch-carriers for the "cosmic American music" tag coined by former collaborator Gram Parsons several decades before.

While obviously drawing heavily from folk and country, Wrecking Ball could never fit the purist's definition of either. Rather, this was something truly deserving of the label "visionary," having re-positioned roots music out of the farms and the forests and into the heavens. Nothing else sounded quite like it, and the album not only solidified Harris' standing as a peerless interpreter - refer to her covers of Jimi Hendrix's "May This Be Love" and the Neil Young-penned title track if you need reminding - but it also marked the start of a tremendous creative burst for the artist, both as a songwriter and as a collaborator.

The albums that followed - 2000's Red Dirt Girl and 2003's Stumble Into Grace (both Nonesuch) - showed no let-up in Harris' inspired momentum, serving up considerably fewer cover songs in favor of adventurous, highly personal songwriting. (One obvious highlight: Red Dirt Girl's "Bang The Drum Slowly," a grand, ethereal weeper written for her father, who had passed away around the time of Wrecking Ball.) Teaming up with Luscious Jackson's Jill Cunniff proved to be a particular left-field triumph, as evidenced by the hypnotic groove of 2000's "J'Ai Fait Tout." Meanwhile, both albums carried on with a refined vision of Wrecking Ball's lush whirl-and-eddy aesthetic, with producer Malcolm Burn inserting the occasional drum loop and world-music element into the mix to tremendous effect. In short, the past decade-plus of Harris' career should be considered nothing less than a renaissance - quite wowing, considering the breadth of her catalog, but entirely true. If anything, the vocalist is enjoying a higher profile now than she ever has before.

Continue reading "All Emmylou Harris intends to be" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 01:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Alejandro Escovedo recently performed "Always a Friend" with Bruce Springsteen.

By Todd Lavoie

How about some good news for a change? Alejandro Escovedo's comeback keeps getting stronger.

When the singer-songwriter collapsed post-show back in 2003 after contracting Hepatitis C, the outlook was pretty grim - as it turned out, he had had the disease for several years, and his body was in greatly compromised condition. Consequently, his musical career had to be back-burnered for a few years, to allow time for recovery - surely a painful option for the musician, who had more or less been playing nonstop ever since forming San Francisco punk legends the Nuns back in the mid-'70s.

His return to recording, 2006's The Boxing Mirror (Back Porch), was a triumphant, frequently touching announcement of recuperation, but the just-released Real Animal (Back Porch/ Manhattan/Blue Note Label Group) resolves any fleeting doubts about the state of Escovedo's health after his brush with death.

Continue reading "Alejandro Escovedo is a 'Real Animal'" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 08:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Fiddling around: Jenny Scheinman. Photo by Wendy Andringa.

By Todd Lavoie

Jenny Scheinman can do it all. The Humboldt County-bred Brooklynite has already worn plenty of hats - violinist, composer, bandleader, session musician, collaborator - but with her recently released eponymous disc on Koch Records, she's donned perhaps her most impressive chapeau of them all: vocalist. While hardly a newbie to recording - having recorded a handful of avant-garde jazz albums over the years, including a couple for the venerable Tzadik label - Scheinman's vocal debut swings with honestly blindsiding levels of "whoa, where did this come from?!"

The biggest surprise? Jenny Scheinman isn't jazz at all, but rather a rustic collection of old-timey country, rambling blues, and rockabilly swagger. Yes, there is an improvisational spirit to these recordings - thus revealing her deep-rooted jazz connections - but overall the focus is on gorgeously twanged-out vocals and faithful evocations of the old south. It's a mighty auspicious first step to the mic, bursting with the confidence of someone who has been singing all her life, of someone who lives and breathes every word that leaves her lips. As far as first introductions go, it's just as quietly revelatory as Gillian Welch's Revival (Almo Sounds/Acony).

I should also mention here that Scheinman actually has just released two albums at once - the other, Crossing the Field (also Koch) is a purely instrumental affair, which I haven't heard yet. I'm sure it's wonderful, but for now I'll stick to discussing the self-titled record. And since it's getting touted in some circles as her "vocals album," I might as well get right to it and heap gushing praise upon her comfortingly familiar but still uniquely expressive voice.

Continue reading "Bowing to Humboldt-bred Jenny Scheinman" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 12:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Todd Lavoie

Looks like the third time's a charm for Texan singer-songwriter Hayes Carll - the rough 'n' tumble country-folk outlaw has just released album number three, Trouble in Mind (Lost Highway), and it's a huge leap forward for the guy. Not only does his move to a major label give an extra boost of exposure beyond the Texan scene and onto the national level - his first couple of discs were either self-released or issued on a small regional label - but along the way he's landed himself a sweet supporting slot, opening for the similarly boot-stomping Old 97's. You'll see what I mean this Tuesday, June 17, when Carll works his storytelling woo-ha on the Fillmore crowd.

You can't miss that Texan drawl: Carll's is as thick as a brick, perhaps even given a little extra layer on top just to be sure no one's confused about his point of origin. Inevitably, Steve Earle comes to mind - particularly his first couple of decades' worth of recordings, rather than the genre-hopping excursions of recent years - thanks to a similarly evocative dusty whine, equally capable of a sneer and a leer as it is of hitting heartstrings with a broken admission of weakness.

Then there's the choice of subject matter. Much of Carll's material shares the barroom bluster of Earle's '80s and '90s output. Drugs and drink, hard-luck men and women, tight-lipped drifters itching for a brawl - sound familiar? Perhaps so, but Carll also tends to inject most of his character sketches and roadhouse recollections with plenty of wit and a no-nonsense poet's grasp of language. As much as I'd imagine he might argue that his songs are nothin' fancy, there is considerable complexity at work here. Sure, Trouble in Mind doesn't put on any airs, but the disc is a wordsmith's delight, loaded with lingering images and sly turns of phrase.

Continue reading "Trouble in Hayes Carll's mind" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 12:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Todd Lavoie

A honky-tonk angel and devil, all wrapped up in one? It appears so with Boston singer-songwriter Eilen (pronounced "EE-len") Jewell. The slow-drawling ambassador of old-timey sounds and rustic reveries offers equal measures of small-town charm and sassy backtalk on last year’s sublime Letters from Sinners and Strangers (Signature Sounds).

If you’ve ever been seduced by the potent country cocktail of twangy sweetness and “my man’s done me wrong” vinegar - think Patsy Cline and Loretta Lynn for classic examples of such barstool tell-alls - then Jewell will surely get you good ‘n' drunk. See for yourself - she’ll be hootin’ it up Wednesday, June 11, at the Rickshaw Stop.

Blessed with a pristine, uncluttered production - ably handled by Jewell and her band - Letters from Sinners and Strangers approaches the sounds of pre-suburban America with reverence and genuine affection. There’s no attempt here to modernize these country/folk/blues idioms, nor is there any sort of ironic distance being created between the singer and the subject. Rather, this is quite authentic, no mucking-about stuff. Other than the contemporary fullness of production, the album feels like an artifact from yesteryear, much in the same way that the work of Jolie Holland and Gillian Welch has also defied easy decade-classification.

Continue reading "An Eilen Jewell of a singer-songwriter" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 01:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Give Ladytron a little sugar.

As usual, SF, you're far too much for one music fan or one paper to handle. Here are more worthy picks that didn't quite make it to print. Knock yourselves out.

Cave Singers
There is life after post-punk. Pretty Girls Make Graves, Hint Hint, and Cobra High seem far away for the Matador art-folkies. With Botticellis and Triumph of Lethargy Skinned Alive to Death. Thurs/22, 8 p.m., $12. Independent, 628 Divisadero, S.F. (415) 771-1422.

Last of the Blacksmiths
The SF ensemble may be last, but they’re not to be forgotten, as they whoop it up moodily on the occasion of their spanking fresh album, **Young Family Song** (Vanguard Squad), alongside Black Fiction writer Tim Cohen’s the Fresh and Only’s. With El Capitan. Sat/24, 9 p.m., $10. Café du Nord, 2170 Market, SF. (415) 861-5016.

Rats
The misunderstood NYC critters promise to rip you a new one. With Some Days. Sat/24, 6 p.m., $5. Hemlock Tavern, 1131 Polk, SF. (415) 923-0923.

Ladytron
They only want you when you’re 17 -- when you’re 21 you’re no fun. But if you’re the UK combo you have considerably longer shelf life: fans are chomping at the bit for Ladytron’s forthcoming fourth album, **Velocifero,** for their new imprint, Nettwerk. Tues/27, 8 p.m., $27.50. Fillmore, 1805 Geary, SF. (415) 346-6000.

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 11:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Singer-songwriter Brett Dennen has been getting a bunch of attention of late - appearing on Jay Leno among other late-night staples. He appears at the free Green Apple Festival show in Golden Gate Park on Sunday, April 20. Word had it he was a major-league recycler and composter, so I spoke to him in honor of Earth Day; here's what he said.

SFBG: So you're a pretty eco-conscious guy - would you say you make green music?

Brett Dennen: I guess the biggest reason is that it seems like the smartest thing to do, to invest in and live in a way that creates instead of destroys. Y'know, leave as little trace as possible. I don’t think it really inspires me on an artistic level - I don’t think I'm passionate about it in that way. It's just something I've always lived with - it was the way I was raised. I grew up composting, recycling food scraps, recycling, walking, and riding a bike everywhere. It's not like a cause I found - it doesn’t move me to write about it.

Continue reading "Green, according to Brett Dennen" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 02:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

A recent performance by Kate Maki in her home province of Ontario.

By Todd Lavoie

Front porch romantics and summer sunset swooners, set your heartstrings a-flutter in anticipation. Canadian alt-country-folk songstress Kate Maki will bring her enchanting "No Depression" melodies to Café du Nord Thursday, April 24, opening for weirdly wonderful Giant Sand mastermind Howe Gelb. Trust me: if you've ever tumbled weak-kneed and flustered over the down homey charms of a blue highway-rambling singer-songwriter in your lifetime, you'll fall hard for Maki. I certainly have.

Boasting an arrestingly gentle, plainspoken delivery, Maki fashions impressive levels of pull-up-a-chair-and-stay-awhile intimacy out of uncluttered arrangements and emotionally direct lyricism. A cross between Suzanne Vega and Iris DeMent, perhaps, though I do detect threads of similarity with Gillian Welch - albeit with considerably less of that tattered black-and-white Dorothea Lange photo vibe going on here - as well as with fellow Ontarian Sarah Harmer.

It's immediate, familiar-as-an-old-friend kind of stuff - and yet it's all quite stimulating and at times even challenging. It ain't easy to craft deceptively simple, homespun little charmers like those on Maki's recently released American debut, On High (Confusion Unlimited/Ow Om) - a lot of folks try and fail, often out of succumbing to cliché or insisting upon self-perceived limitations of the genre. Not an issue here: this 27-minute introduction is loaded with forcefully understated little wonders. Can't wait to hear 'em live.

Continue reading "Swooning over alt-folkie Kate Maki" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 01:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

A recent clip of Tony Scherr performing "I Could Understand."

By Todd Lavoie

So so so many choices of what to do this weekend, I know, but let me throw another one your way: this Saturday and Sunday, April 19 and 20, the Independent will be hosting a mighty fine double-bill for fill all your strummed-up twang-age needs. As part of the Green Apple Festival, Brooklyn singer-songwriter and endlessly versatile collaborator Tony Scherr and Australian roots-folkies the Waifs will be playing two nights of rustic goodness at the adventurously booked Divisadero joint.

Now, the Waifs are a marvelous folk-rock group; their latest, sundirtwater (Compass), was just released over here after hitting it big back home in Australia last year. The disc offers a looser, dustier version of their familiar harmony-rich folk meditations, instead opting for deeper forays into the blues and country-soul. Particularly ear-catching is the title track, a swampy little rumba driven by Josh Cunningham's jazz-sweating guitar slinks and Vikki Simpson's lusty vocals:

I want to focus on Tony Scherr, though: the guy boasts a massively impressive resume, as a band member, collaborator, and solo artist. Before eventually heading down the dirt roads and rolling fields of country- and blues-flavored songwriting, he was a jazz bassist, adding both acoustic and electric low-end to a variety of ensembles. Scherr started off - and only a teenager at the time - as a member of one of Woody Herman's latter-day lineups, and then went on to perform with Russ Gershon's Either/Orchestra, an ensemble well-known for its anything-goes approach to interpreting the work of others. (Bob Dylan, Bobbie Gentry, Robert Fripp, and Duke Ellington have all at one point or another been given the Either/Orchestra overhaul.)

Continue reading "Songwriter Tony Scherr dances with Waifs" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 10:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Nathan Baker

Tift Merritt is giving something away. It seems delicate but could be strong as steel, a gift from a solitary place but one that she openly shares. It is Another Country (Fantasy). When Lost Highway Records broke things off with the Grammy-nominated songwriter in 2006 she retired to a room in Paris to put down this portrait of a spirit that is at once resilient and vulnerable. "Sometimes you fall up these stairs," Merritt sings on "Tender Branch," bruised but not beaten.

If there is a bit of the expatriate in this record it is not the decadent self-destruction of Papa Hemingway but the anxiety and awe of a stranger navigating a mysterious place. In "Love is Another Country" her sentiment is simple and perfect: "I wanna go with you."

Produced by George Drakoulias, whose clients include the Black Crowes and the Jayhawks, Another Country both reflects and refracts country music. "Tell Me Something True" and "My Heart is Free" illustrate what all the Bonnie Raitt and Lucinda Williams comparisons are for, but mostly Merritt's is an Americana of the mind - the vernal pleasures Saint-Sulpice, a pastoral stroll along the Seine, the silver needle of a Parisian clothier pushing through a linen summer dress.

TIFT MERRITT
With Sara Watkins of Nickel Creek
April 14, 8 p.m., $16
Great American Music Hall
859 O’Farrell, SF
(415) 885-0750

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 07:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

A little bit o' London Souls.

By Kandia Crazy Horse

A SXSW diary concludes...

SATURDAY, MARCH 15

As mentioned before, other than an in-and-out at Brush Square Park for a Japanese lineup, I simply did not make it to day parties, including the Frank 151 one where I had hoped to catch Game Rebellion again on Friday since they’d so courteously invited Kimberly and I en route to the Ironworks for ‘cue (did catch them rush the stage during N.E.R.D.’s disappointing non-starter of a late-night set at Stubb’s). Thus I missed Harp’s own shindig at the French Legation (and thus the chance to commiserate with my fellow contributors), the ‘ting of NYC-based Kemado Records for which I actually had a lam, and my annual Sunday trip down South Congress for western wear and eats (sorry Andy!).

Last minute, I did make the scene at Jelly NYC’s rooftop thang down West Fifth in the vicinity of Town Lake. And I am glad I did, as this foot-hobbling sojourn off the beaten track enabled me to let some ghosts go while hip-switching through the sequential, heavy volume-dealing sets of London Souls (actually from Brooklyn also, and fronted by a palpably Hendrix-loving brer) and Earl Greyhound. Before a rickshaw took me back to the Hilton, I made and re-met some friends, was hailed by some cool new folks (like sometime Rolling Stone lensman Michael Weintrob) and finally scored a decent drink.

The afternoon was enjoyable due to a very satisfying morning during which I arose early, 9 a.m., from the groggy swamp to breakfast at the soon-to-be-defunct Las Manitas on Congress with NYC friend Tim Broun and his Oaktown musician bud Paul Manousos - all in order to see Daryl Hall’s official SXSW interview at noon. Not only were Tim and I first in line, but we had a great front row view of Brother Hall being interviewed by my colleague Ann Powers of the LA Times. Seeming to be aloof behind shades, seated next to his compadre T-Bone Wolk and their six strings, the sometime 50 percent of Hall and Oates was actually very engaging and sharp, and it was clear from his responses that he never suffers fools gladly.

"Engaging and sharp": Daryl Hall and Kandia Crazy Horse.

Continue reading "SXSW: Scoping out Daryl Hall, Darondo, Bonnie Bramlett, Justin Townes Earle, David Garza, and more" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 10:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Saw your baby, lady: Kimya Dawson.

By Kandia Crazy Horse

A SXSW night-and-day diary continues...

THURSDAY, MARCH 13, AND FRIDAY, MARCH 14

The day began with my first IHOP run, and the late rising set me permanently behind on the day-party trail. In fact, I ultimately only made the scene at one on Sixth with our fearless leader/SX roomie Kimberly Chun, wherein we were irritated by “free” drink tickets that only provided low-shelf liquor.

It was fun to make the scene in the upper reaches of the Convention Center, catching up with such friends and colleagues as Manhattan cultural instigator Jim Fouratt, NC-born upstater Holly George-Warren at her trade show book signing for Punk 365 and her fine Gene Autry bio, Perfect Sound Forever honcho Jason Gross, veteran esteemed rock critic Dave Marsh, and (erstwhile) Harp editors Fred Mills and Randy Harward who, alas, came bearing bad tidings about the music magazine’s demise. I also met rock scribe/wife Laurie Lindeen, rockbiz vet Danny Goldberg (whose account of apprenticing to Led Zeppelin’s famed manager Peter Grant was thrilling), Hanson vox Taylor, rockwrite/rock orbit luminaries Jaan Uhelszki and Danny Fields, and played text tag with some other folks before and after dropping too many ducats at Flatstock for posters of the Black Crowes, Stevie Wonder, and the great Alejandro Escovedo (who I was saturated with in ’07 but very sadly missed this year).

The Day Stage tended to be dull or between bursts when I breezed through from the trade show, but I did see Kimya Dawson and her man keeping up with their toddling baby girl. That’s not to say there were no good-to-great performances provided within the Convention Center’s walls: in succession, I saw Hanson, the Noisettes, and (an amazing set by) X, all mercifully recorded for DirectTV.

Continue reading "SXSW: Kimya baby sighting no. 1, meathead hair-tossing at RTX, She and Him hrumphed" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 02:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Todd Lavoie

Old Weird America, indeed - the spectral-twangin', gorgeously raggle-taggle ghost-folkster Matthew Houck, a.k.a., Phosphorescent, will be throwing mad shadows upon the walls of the Independent Sunday, March 23, when he takes the stage in support of his October-released spine-tingler Pride (Dead Oceans).

Now on album number three, the Athens, Geo./Brooklyn-based Houck has expanded beyond the largely go-it-alone parameters of Pride to include a backing band for this tour; should be interesting to see how the deep-in-the-earhole intimacy of the almost entirely self-recorded disc translates to the stage in the form of a full-fledged quartet. Not that there's much cause to worry: if the guy can bring backwoods-gothic to Bed-Stuy, by crikey, I'm sure he'll find a way to channel onstage the same gossamer-gospel hocus-pocus that makes Pride such a fascinating listen.

It's an intriguing proposition, fashioning such distinctly rural sounds while surrounded by so much concrete, but Houck has done exactly that, and quite convincingly as well. This is no pard'ner-grabbing, knee-slapping hoedown, however: instead, Pride arrives in misty drifts, sighing and swaying over pine-cloaked hills, across Civil War battlefields and weed-overrun graveyards. If there's a trace of Brooklyn on this record, I have to hear it - and while we're at it, most of the time I'm not picking up too much 21st century here, either. (Other than the production, of course, which is goose-pimplingly exquisite.)

Continue reading "Phosphorescent shimmers with strange beauty" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 04:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Thar she blows: Or, the Whale. All photos by Brandon Joseph Baker.

Photographer Brandon Joseph Baker checked out Noise Pop's sold-out Dodos/Or, the Whale/Bodies of Water/Willow Willow show at Cafe du Nord on Feb. 28. The sets were eclectic with Willow Willow quietly starting the evening out. The crowd grew as Bodies of Water took stage and played a fierce yet short set due to time constraints - much to the audience's dismay. Next, Or, the Whale prepared the listeners for the Dodos' set with their strong ballad-driven Americana tunes.

Continue reading "Diving into Or, the Whale, Bodies of Water, and Willow Willow" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 10:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Curious about what some of the groups we feature in this week's Noise Pop cover story sound like? Anyone remember when reading about music meant that the quality of the writing alone had to convey individual sonic textures? Well, no more! Thank you, Internets! Behold!

Below are some introductory vids -- more info on these stellar performers (as well as a full fest schedule) is available at www.noisepop.com/2008

The Dodos, "Fools"

Holy Fuck, "Milkshake"

MSTRKRFT, "Street Justice"

Continue reading "Noise Pop video attack" »

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Posted by Marke B. at 02:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Todd Lavoie

All right, I’m giving some heads up time here so you can plan your weekend accordingly: Dolly Parton turns 62 this Saturday, Jan. 19. Oh, the possibilities for celebration are endless, aren’t they? Maybe a spin of her 1971 classic Coat of Many Colors (RCA), or how about slappin’ 9 to 5 (oh, my sweet baby Jesus, so that flick is really from 1980?! Now I feel old) into the ole DVD player, or if you’re feeling particularly ambitious, you could always fry up some catfish and hush puppies (two of the Dixie diva’s favorite dishes, which must always be paired together: “One without the other is like pickin’ without grinnin’,” she once famously declared, and who am I to disagree?) Or, how about this: you could Dolly yourself up and swing on over to El Rio this Saturday night for their Tennessee Mountain Birthday Bash! Yep, a night of Dolly music, movies, and homemade pie! Ah, pie - who doesn’t love pie? And did I mention the Dolly-look-alike contest? I smell a photo op!

Whatever your plans may be, methinks some serious Happy Haps are in order for Ms. Parton. Sure, we’ve all probably succumbed to Dolly the caricature at one point or another, but the fact remains this: she’s one of the sweetest-voiced, savviest, and most successful artists of our lifetime: 25 number-one singles at last count, and 41 top 10 country albums so far - no one else comes close, even. She has penned some of the most touching, soul-baring, achingly tender melodies of the past five decades. But wait, there’s more: a star in the Hollywood Walk of Fame, inductions into the Country Music Hall of Fame and the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame, the distinction of being honored as a Living Legend by the US Library of Congress, as well as being rewarded the National Medal of Arts (the highest honor given by the US government for cultural excellence.)

Oh, and let’s not forget: she wrote “Jolene." Covered by everyone from Olivia Newton-John to the Sisters of Mercy to the White Stripes to Susanna and the Magical Orchestra, it’s an absolute classic in the whole infidelity-song genre, an area with plenty of competition, particularly in country music. Here, in a more recent performance, she gives a shout-out to her drag-queen fans, then kicks up a mighty row with a wicked bluegrass version of the song.

Continue reading "Love me some Dolly...and pass the birthday pie at El Rio" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 01:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Bat for Lashes are in your corner.

By Todd Lavoie

Well, it wasn't easy, but after endless hours of fretting and ruminating and studied, stressed-out headphonery, I have at last been able to compile a play list of the tracks that got me most excited this year. What can I say? This year was a stunner - look no further than these twenty lil' ditties, kiddies.

1. SOULSAVERS: "Revival" (Red Ink/Columbia)
Mark Lanegan + gospel singers + narcotized electronics = unmitigated bliss. The former Screaming Tree, Isobel Campbell collaborator, and bedrock-baritoned emissary from the darkest of gutters has teamed up with British downtempo dramatists Soulsavers for some post-apocalyptic spirituality and brokenhearted confessionals. And if that ain't enough, they snagged Wendy Rose and Lena Palmer - probably best known for setting full-throated fires behind Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds on their last album and tour - to usher in the rapture with their serious gospel know-how. Ah, "Revival" - Lanegan leads the congregation in a river baptismal, spitting hellfire and salvation while still teetering close to the edge of the abyss himself, a Flannery O'Connor character brought to song. Until Spiritualized's new one hits next year, this might be the next-best-thing to fill our medicated-soul prescription.

2. BAT FOR LASHES: "What's A Girl To Do?" (Echo/Caroline)
Rolling out of the darkness on her forlorn little bicycle, transmitting mesmerizing sparkles from her glittery sweater, Natasha Khan - the mastermind behind the curious Bat for Lashes moniker - made quite a first impression with the opening seconds of her video for "What's A Girl to Do?" - an ice-choked exploration of the previously undiscovered intersections between PJ Harvey, Broadcast, and the Ronettes. I won't spoil the surprise twist of the video, but I will offer that this might be the catchiest bummer I've heard all year: "And when he asked me/ 'Do you love me?'/ I had to look away/ I didn't want to tell him/That my heart grows colder with each day." Ouch.

3. BEIRUT: "Nantes" (Ba Da Bing)
European romance? Yes, please! Scott Walker might have long since abandoned any consideration for evening promenades and moonlit kisses in song - now that he's a bonafide avant-garde artiste hellbent on making Stockhausen seem like sissy stuff, that is - so thankfully the world has Zach Condon, a.k.a., Beirut, to carry the torch for all of us swooning pie-eyed dreamers. Oh, the rhumba rhythm! The Montmartre-ific accordion! The swaying brass section! And atop it all, Condon waxes far more nostalgic than his 21 years should ever allow. Not as lurid as Walker or his idol Jacques Brel - honestly, who is? - but croonably smooth nonetheless. Me, I'm enchanted.

Continue reading "Player's club: Todd Lavoie's best of 2007 playlist" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 12:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Two things that will surely shock you:

1. I like silly music.

2.Stark Raving Brad, the angry elf model for our “Fuck the Holidays” shoot (in our Holiday Guide) makes silly music.

Photo by Neil Motteram

Yup, it’s true. The girl who writes about The Nutley Brass and Richard Cheese likes the kind of music that a guy with no hair except one neon yellow tendril plays. Which is to say, Stark Raving Brad and I have great fucking taste. And so, apparently, does the Eagle, who’s booked his band the Winsome Griffles to play this Thursday, the 13th.

Continue reading "Swish Americana with the Griffles" »

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Posted by Molly Freedenberg at 01:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Todd Lavoie

It's Not How Far You Fall, It's the Way You Land - a dead-on appropriate proclamation, indeed, for Britain's pre-eminent emissaries of unsettled downtempo electro-soul and whiskey-and-gin street corner spirituality, Soulsavers, whose breakthrough Red Ink/Columbia release glows like divine inspiration wafting out of the darkest gutter. Consider the title a riff on the whole "it's not the journey, it's the destination" mantra - only in this case, the daily affirmation comes from a rough-and-ragged 12-step program that says failure is inevitable but redemption is possible. Redemption with style - ah, even better.

And what style it is. Producers-electronic wizards-consummate tastemakers Rich Machin and Ian Glover cook up languid rhythms, rawboned organ arrangements, and ominous string samples - along with bringing in some evocative lap-steel guitar and weepy six-string twang from session musicians - to create brooding, occasionally post-apocalyptic soundscapes that could speak plenty of lurid truths all by themselves, as evidenced on their mostly instrumental debut, 2003's Tough Guys Don't Dance (San Quentin). The recipe's been improved on their latest, thanks to the lead-vocal contributions of Will Oldham, Jimi Goodwin (Doves), and - the greatest coup of all - the gravel-wrapped-in-velvet baritone Mark Lanegan, whose eight contributions inform the album's duality of forbidding menace and soothing sanctity.

Even better, they've upped the ante with the addition of gospel heroics from backing vocalists Wendy Rose and Lena Palmer - perhaps best known for setting fires behind Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds on their last album and tour. The result is a potent futuristic-gospel - witness opener "Revival," a thundering transmission from the River of Jordan, Lanegan leading Rose and Palmer in a tearful baptism while the flames rise around them. Cover-lovers, begin your rejoicing: Lanegan's and Oldham's duet on Neil Young's "Through My Sails" is pure lip-biting heartbreak. Soulsavers, you've made a believer out of me.

Soulsavers, with Mark Lanegan, appear Saturday, Dec. 1, 9 p.m., at the Independent, 628 Divisadero, SF. Great Northern opens. $18. (415) 771-1422.

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 02:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

By Todd Lavoie

Yeehaw for more twang-age! At last! Detroit's delightfully skewed goth-country crackerjacks Blanche have finally seen album number two receive an American release, nearly a year after its European release, nearly a year after their former label V2 shut its doors suddenly and left its roster in the lurch. Happy endings have never been synonymous with these folks - murder ballads, yes, and odes to wronged love, certainly, but good news? Hardly!

But here we are, endless months after they got screwed over by Mister Record Company Man, and Little Amber Bottles (Original Signal) is finally available in the States. The wait's been worth it: no "sophomore slump" for this nattily attired mob of medicine-show revivalists and Flannery O' Connor torch-bearers. Dare I say it? Aw, shucks, why not? Little Amber Bottles is a quantum leap forward for the band - hell, it had quite firmly settled into my Top Ten of 2007 within its first half-dozen spins, even. Christ knows how many times I've listened since, but I remained just as intoxicated by it as I was the day I'd skinned it of its shrinkwrap and handed myself over to its many gauzy, dusty charms. Truth is, I could probably get drunk just from looking at it. Won't you join me, then, in some good old-fashioned inebriation?

I'll pour the first drink: Blanche is a quintet of old-school country-devotees who think like punks, write like O'Connor or William Faulkner, and sing like snake-oil salesmen, saloon floozies, and end-of-the-road auctioneers. Frequently performing in early 20th century vintage-wear, they very much look and sound like a mob of country-folk who high-tailed it to Birmingham or Chattanooga or Lynchburg and got themselves "citified," so to speak. And it's all entirely convincing, I should add. No mere dress-up here, Blanche manage to inhabit the world of 78 records, magic elixirs, and old black-and-white Sears & Roebuck catalogs straight from the printing press. It's as if they just hiked down from Walton's Mountain and hit the studio - only these folks are less John Walton/Olivia Walton and more Ike/Corabeth Godsey, the fancy-schmancy owners of the general store who left the mountain more than once every couple of months.

Continue reading "Loving Blanche" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 01:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Benedict Sinclair

Sometimes there’s a mood. One where dessert must coat the human drama. You need a pleasure, perhaps a guilty one. The kind of sublimity you’ll find in the songwriting of Dan Wilson, Grammy Award-winning craftsman behind the Dixie Chicks’ “Not Ready to Make Nice” and frontperson for alt-rockers Semisonic. Wilson once penned the Grammy-nominated radio classic “Closing Time” with the band. Nowadays he’s mechanically churning out sweet, catchy, safe, comfortable songs about the ladies of his pop life.

His latest release, Free Life, is mixed in the direction of lite Nigel Godrich: its clean and balanced sonic landscape focuses on a sparse set of pleasing soft-rock ballads about relationship politics. There's a dash of lush country, a sprinkling of candy chords, a hint of Coldplay, and a smidgen of chorus harmonies. For better at times and worse at others, Wilson also reveals a '90s alternative attitude beneath his polished top layers.

As traditional as the album is there’s something to be said for its professionalism. Wilson’s a born performer, as he will surely prove on Sunday, Nov. 11, opening for the equally lush folkalist Sondre Lerch at the Swedish American Music Hall, above Café du Nord. Yet Wilson’s lyrics aren’t written or placed in a terribly evocative way - definitely his weak spot here. “Runnin, all around all around / all kinds of beautiful,” he sings between verses composed of toss-away free advice on “All Kinds."

Continue reading "The Dan Wilson peppermint latte, or how it feels to be free" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 10:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Erik Morse

Grand Ole Opry mainstay and sartorial icon Porter Wagoner, one half of the great duet Porter and Dolly team, died of lung cancer in Nashville on Oct. 28 just days before Halloween.

The country musician was the epitome of the “hard workin’ man,” whose declining health in recent years failed to sideline a career that continued to entertain young and old through 50 years at the Opry. In addition to the critically received comeback Wagonmaster (Anti), a darkly psychedelic album released this summer, Wagoner made a one-time appearance in July at Madison Square Garden opening for the White Stripes. On his death bed he was surrounded by family, musicians and friends, and his one-time singing partner Dolly Parton. According to an Associate Press article, Opry vice president and general manager Pete Fisher said of Wagoner: “His passion for the Opry and all of country music was truly immeasurable.” Wagoner’s funeral ceremony was appropriately at the Grand Ole Opry House this past week.

Much like another recent passing musician, Lee Hazlewood, whose incredible career was often reduced to a footnote in the rise of partner Nancy Sinatra, Wagoner was similarly touted as the man who discovered Parton in the late 1960s. In truth, his work in country-western extended to the post-WW II days of Louvin Brothers-style folk with a local Missouri band, the Blue Ridge Boys, and on TV’s Ozark Jubilee.

Continue reading "Porter Wagoner RIP: Death of a country showman" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 02:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Todd Lavoie

Bet you didn't see this one coming. I sure as hell didn't, not even in my wildest music-nerd tag-team reveries. Yep, I might've floated off into la-la land over the what-ifs and fancy-thats of pairing such unlikelies as PJ Harvey/Del tha Funkee Homosapien or Dolly Parton/Spiritualized or even Bryan Ferry/CocoRosie, but somehow I'd never gotten around to scratchin' my noggin over what would happen if Robert Plant and Alison Krauss ended up in the same studio for a patch of time. Somehow a Neko Case/D'Angelo collab seems like a perfectly reasonable expectation from your humble Guardian blogger, but a meet-up between the sweetest voice in bluegrass-pop and Mr. Banshee-Wail himself? Ah, that's just crazy.

Or is it? Call it a lark, call it a sign of the apocalypse, call it a coup for the rest of us, but one of the greatest who'da thunks of our time has arrived: Robert Plant and Alison Krauss recently released Raising Sand (Rounder), and it's breathtaking. No kidding. It's almost as if they've always worked together - yep, it's that good.

Much of the credit should be given to producer T-Bone Burnett, he of the miracle sepia-tone touch, the man behind the rustic charms and warm glows of Gillian Welch's Revival (Acony), Elvis Costello's King of America (Columbia), and the O Brother Where Art Thou? soundtrack (Mercury). (And no, don't let that last one put you off. Sure, maybe you too found yourself maxed-out on the banjo-and-holler-fest after every single coffeehouse and café played the sweet holy hell outta that thing back in 2000 and 2001, but enough time has passed to be able to listen again with a fresh pair of ears. Go on, give it a play. It really is a marvel.)

Continue reading "The Plant 'n' Krauss Show: Makes good listening!" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 12:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Anna Mantzaris

Teddy Thompson (that’s Thompson as in spawn of Richard and Linda) may be an English boy by birth, but the 31-year-old's rock-folk-country sound will make you think he’s spent years fine-tuning his sound deep in the land of the American south.

Taking on the greats - Merle Haggard, Dolly Parton, George Jones - Thompson’s latest CD, Up Front and Down Low(Verve Forecast), is a thoughtful collection of interpretations of C&W classics and not-so-well-known gems, with dad Richard and pal Rufus Wainwright lending their talents. A New Yorker by residence, Thompson takes his show on the road opening for Suzanne Vega; he appears Monday, Nov. 12, at the Fillmore.

Bay Guardian: How did Up Front and Down Low come about? Why an album of covers?

Teddy Thompson: I came home after touring after the last record for a year. I didn’t have a lot to do. I started just recording some songs for fun, but I liked the way it came out and I thought maybe it would make a good side-project album.

Continue reading "Teddy Thompson: Americana by way of England" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 09:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Whoa, there's a lot going this weekend, as usual in the fairest of 'Friscos. Let's take a tip from our sponsor and take it a one day at a time this weekend.

First, the Fiery Furnaces are up tonight, Oct. 19, with Pit er Pat at Independent - and dang, their new album, Widow City (Thrill Jockey), rocks it old-school. As in feathered hair, air-brushed vans, and double gatefold vinyl, which by chance, Widow City is available on. Hey, it's a great time to be a widow! (Cue video "Ex-Guru.")

Next up on Saturday, Oct. 20, you got a hoedown to throw down: the Fool's Gold Showcase at Mezzanine with A-Trak and DJ Mehdi, Kid Sister, Kavinsky, Nick Catchdubs, and Trackademicks. Let's hope Kavinsky actually does something (check Michael Harkin's CMJ blog) - but whatev, Chicago's Kid Sister will make it all happen - here at SXSW.

Meanwhile on Sunday, Oct. 21, SF singer-songwriter extradordinaire Chuck Prophet is going to be toasting his new acclaimed CD, Soap and Water (Yep Roc) - with tacos, natch.

Dude has hired a truck to treat the fans on Sunday at the Make-Out Room. Of the aforementioned grinds, Prophet said, "Yes, you heard right. Free tacos for all my friends! The taco truck will be courtesy of El Tonayense. I'm a carne asada man myself, but I hear they do a killer al pastor." (Dig it - after paying the $10 cover.) Prophet also performs free at Amoeba on Oct. 21, 2 p.m. - so now you've no excuse to miss him! (You can also hear the album online here.)

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 02:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Anna Mantzaris

Teddy Thompson (that’s Thompson as in spawn of Richard and Linda) may be an English boy by birth, but the 31-year-old's rock-folk-country sound will make you think he’s spent years fine-tuning his sound deep in the land of the American south.

Taking on the greats - Merle Haggard, Dolly Parton, George Jones - Thompson’s latest CD, Up Front and Down Low(Verve Forecast), is a thoughtful collection of interpretations of C&W classics and not-so-well-known gems, with dad Richard and pal Rufus Wainwright lending their talents. A New Yorker by residence, Thompson takes his show on the road opening for Suzanne Vega; he appears Monday, Nov. 12, at the Fillmore.

Bay Guardian: How did Up Front and Down Low come about? Why an album of covers?

Teddy Thompson: I came home after touring after the last record for a year. I didn’t have a lot to do. I started just recording some songs for fun, but I liked the way it came out and I thought maybe it would make a good side-project album.

Continue reading "Teddy Thompson: Americana by way of England" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 09:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

In honor of the late Lee Hazlewood, here is Edward E. Crouse's unfiltered conversation with the great singer-songwriter, from the Guardian in 1998:

Love Lee
A duet over the phone with Mr. Hazlewood.

By Edward E. Crouse

LEE HAZLEWOOD writes, produces, and sings ambrosial pop songs. Ambrosial in both senses: the Greek (what the gods ingest) and the American (that picnic mystery made of canned fruits in heavy syrup and whipped cream). Hazlewood claims never to have met Serge Gainsbourg — a Gallic strategist with a similar dark, drunken heart and thick basso profundo–bizarro pipes who shares his knack for perverse idioms and knocking out hits with boy-girl, Beauty-Beast arrangements. Hazlewood is by no means as fashion-ready as Gainsbourg, which means that clubs won't charge a premium for lacquered and booted neo-modistes to frug on his birthday, and the prospect of cats aping Hazlewood's trademark stealth fighter–shaped mustache is doubtful.

Continue reading "Lee Hazlewood: July 9, 1929- August 4, 2007" »

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Posted by Johnny Ray Huston at 03:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Blessed be to the advances in technology that allow alert concertgoers to capture performers at their most uncouth.

Most recently, Faith Hill upbraided a front-row fan for gettin' too gropy with hubby and tourmate Tim McGraw's private parts (TMZ has the video here). And of course there's the now-famous Beyonce tumble (TMZ has it here).

Who needs concert videos when the between-songs shit is so juicy? Anyone who owns a copy of Having Fun With Elvis On Stage -- no songs, just banter, some of it quite rambling and surreal -- knows what I'm talking about.

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Posted by Cheryl Eddy at 11:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Children of the corn. Collage courtesy of Harp.

OK, we give - Kanye is still king, especially after we peered at the inspired new, YouTube-y video for his single "Can't Tell Me Nothing," which was posted this week on his site. Call it "Menace II Future Farmers of America"? Behold comedian Zack Galifianakis - glowering manfully on his North Carolina farm, dancing with John Deere shit and cavorting with fresh-faced milk maids in some St. Pauli's Girl commercial gone horribly, hilariously wrong. Check musician Will Oldham, aka Bonnie "Prince" Billy, striking gangsta pose on country roads. And naturally Galifianakis's tummy is a marvel to observe (see more of it on his recent live comedy DVD filmed at SF's Purple Onion).

Apparently West enlisted Galifianakis after seeing him perform standup in LA, sayeth Billboard. So kudos to Kanye for letting the silly pair undercut the lyrics' toughness with wit and a little weird, backwoods Old Joy. Expect more when West's LP, Graduation (Def Jam) - oooh, scary! - emerges in August or September.

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 06:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Step right up for the git-pickin' pick o' the litter at the first annual San Francisco Picker’s Picnic on Friday, July 6, at Bottom of the Hill.

King City with child.

Joe Price with Vicki Price, King City, Craig Ventresco with Meredith Axelrod, Gaucho, and Pat Johnson will be your shred-meisters. Your host: Chewy Marzolo - player of heavy metal, bluegrass, cartoon swing Latin soundtrack, rag, burlesque, abso-futurist black/death metal, gypsy jazz, cabaret, country, and he says, "a few other types of not-very-popular-to-the-hipsters styles of music in San Francisco for...well...let me see here...um...a very long time."

Joe Price in action.

This time Marzolo bites into a first - the Picker's Picnic. Among the offerings are the Iowa Blues Hall of Fame inductee Joe Price; gypsy jazz combo Gaucho (with Ralph Carney); and Marzolo's own band, King City, who describe themselves as "a five-piece ragtime/tango/Latin/spaghetti western
instrumental San Francisco bonifiedly warranted excuse for a good time." By the way, King City's first official CD, The Last Siesta, comes out this summer on Spencer Muray's Antebellum label and the cover was painted by graf giant Twist, aka, Barry McGee.

It's all on July 6, 9 p.m., at Bottom of the Hill, 1233 17th St., SF. $10. For more info, go to www.myspace.com/pickerspicnic. Be there - or be home pickin' on your own.

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 06:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)