By Vanessa Carr

If the last Gemini Disco Paradise party was any indication (18-piece disco band Escort, performances at midnight and 3 a.m., packed crowd, go-go dancers, balloon drop, cabaret-style performances), the second Paradise this Saturday night (5/17) should deliver on its promise to be a debaucherous, all-night disco dance party channelling the spirit of Studio 54 or Paradise Garage, the infamous gay NYC nightclub from the '80s.

Christopher McVick's Paradise Disco Trailer

Mezzanine and Gemini Disco are bringing the original disco divas from the '70s Sister Sledge ("We Are Family" and "He's the Greatest Dancer"), as well as DFA's disco-revivalists Holy Ghost! (DJ set), with local supporting DJs Derrek Love and Nicky B (Gemini), BT Magnum and Black Shag (Beat Electric), and Honey Soundsystem. Christopher McVick and his entourage help ignite the disco fever with their outlandish circus/disco/cabaret antics, including theatrical choreography, stick ponies, and glitzy drag performances.

Sister Sledge perform "He's the Greatest Dancer"

Paradise All-Night Disco Party
May 17th, 10 pm to dawn, $15 advance
Mezzanine, 444 Jessie Street, 415-625-8880
www.mezzaninesf.com

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Posted by Marke B. at 06:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Todd Lavoie

Supergrass, “Diamond Hoo Ha Man”

Perhaps it’s perfectly fitting that the lads in Supergrass -- cheeky as they’ve always been -- are the ones in the much-ballyhooed Britpop pack having the last laugh after all. Chalk it up to their boyish exuberance, I suppose, or maybe to their steadfast refusal to take themselves too seriously, but the Oxford stompers are now deep into the double-digit years of their career, and still sounding remarkably fresh with each release, while so many of those acts once mentioned in the same breath have either broken up or lost their relevance.

The once-ubiquitous movement, which the British music press essentially heralded as something akin to the second coming of Christ, complete with its share of messianic drama and seething rivalries, had a great run for a while there, beginning around the mid-‘90s and lasting through the turn of the century. Blur, Oasis, Pulp, Suede, Elastica, Sleeper -- they were some of the big-hitters at the center of it all, unapologetically celebrating Britishness, flag-drapery and all, through a spirited revisit of ‘60s Mod culture, punk/post-punk jitters, and New Wave electro-romanticism.

When Supergrass showed up, still in their teens and hardly concealing it, the bright-eyed scruffs seemed like the younger, sillier siblings to the art-school grads of Blur and Pulp. I imagine many folks would’ve never guessed at the time of their breakthrough 1995 single “Alright” (yep, as in “We are young/ we run green/ keep our teeth nice and clean/ see our friends, see the sights/ feel alright” -- recently snagged by Walt Disney world for their feel-good commercials) that the band would still be going strong thirteen years later. Nothing against them, of course, it’s just that bands sticking together for more than a decade are a bit of a rarity.

But here they are, and their recently Brit-released sixth album, Diamond Hoo Ha (Parlophone/EMI) – to be released here 6/10 on Astralwerks -- is a winner. With the demise of Pulp and Elastica and Sleeper and Suede fading further by the day, and in view of Blur’s highly unlikely on-again/off-again reformation rumors and Oasis’s having long since lost the plot, it looks like Supergrass might strike the double-bonus of longevity and sustained relevance. Hmmm, feel alright, indeed.

Continue reading "Runnin' through the Supergrass with "Diamond Hoo Ha"" »

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Posted by Marke B. at 12:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Joshua Rotter

Call me overly-dramatic but Duran Duran have and will forever be my favorite band. They have been since I was five. That's probably why one of my greatest regrets is opting for a Nintendo console over tickets to the "Arena" tour -- what was to be the band's final outing (with all five founding members) -- for my sixth birthday back in 1984.

While seeing reformed lineups both onstage and at record signings in the 90's, and even encountering John Taylor one fateful morning at the Noah's Bagels that I worked at in 1997, offered some consolation, nothing would come close to seeing the Fab Five together again on their 2008 reunion tour.

All pics by Quartknee Kwatek

While guitarist Andy Taylor's recent departure from the group may have sprinkled on my parade, I can't say that their Bay Area Red Carpet Massacre tour stop at Sleep Train Amphitheatre in Concord May 2 suffered for it.

The three-act show, which debuted in late 2007 on Broadway, was highly-theatrical, incorporating all the necessary show-stopping elements.

There was unique staging in the band's utilization of a simple skyscraper background and a variety of light sources -- from stage lights to bulbs -- to evoke a variety of moods instead of traditional video screens.

The musical numbers -- from the darker tracks off their Timba-Lake-produced "Red Carpet Massacre" (2007) like bass-heavy opener "The Valley", beat-driven "Night-Runner" and hip pop number "Skin Diver" complete with Timbaland rapping loop to rearrangements of the band's lighter classics such as "Hungry Like the Wolf", "The Reflex" and "Rio" -- were mixed gorgeously.

The mid-section of the show was run entirely on synthesizers and drum machines, so
tracks like "Last Chance on the Stairway" "All She Wants Is" and "I Don't Want Your Love" became even more electro-shocked, blending seamlessly with the band's cover of The Normal's "Warm Leatherette".

Josh and the boys

Continue reading "Duran Duran again again" »

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Posted by Marke B. at 03:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

By Todd Lavoie

Vieux Farka Touré, "Bullet the Blue Sky"

Oh, U2 -- they might not have changed the world as much as they’d hoped (or, not yet, anyway), but at least they’ve made it a warmer, more hopeful place, yes? Hard to fathom a band more deserving of the tag “global phenomenon,” but there it is, slapped upon every stirring chorus and grand sweeping gesture from Bono’s anointed fingers -- the sheer enormousness of it all would be mighty hard to take if the guys didn’t have the goods to back it up. But they do, and what’s more, they’ve kept the flow for longer than some listeners have even been alive -- to whom else on the international airwaves could we ever say such a thing? Michael Jackson? Once upon a time, sure, but not anymore. Mariah Carey? Please. And you’d best bite that lip before suggesting Britney! But honestly: has anyone else in modern-day rock/pop ubiquity had the same level of social impact as U2? For all of the mumbles and grumbles about Bono’s perceived messiah-complex, it’s worth remembering that he and his mates have pushed far beyond the familiar celebrity-pose of half-hearted idealism in favor of honest-to-goodness optimism, championing countless causes with honest-to-goodness conviction. Take that, Ms Spears.

Further testimony can be found on the recently-released In The Name Of Love: Africa Celebrates U2 (Shout! Factory). An intriguing collection of interpretations from U2’s catalogue by some of the continent’s most notable musicians, the disc serves as more than just a reminder of the band’s utmost uber-importance -- this tribute also offers fresh insight into their unimpeachable songwriting skills. Language barriers? Pshaw! How nineteenth century!

Continue reading "Africa adopts U2" »

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Posted by Marke B. at 12:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Todd Lavoie

Neon Neon, “I Lust U (featuring Cate Le Bon)”

As far as concept albums go, it couldn’t get much odder: Neon Neon’s Stainless Style (Lex Records) -- the new collaboration between Super Furry Animals frontman Gruff Rhys and underground electro/hip hop producer Boom Bip -- takes a body-rockin’ trundle on the time-machine back to the heady life and times of John DeLorean, and mercifully, it works and works and works. It could’ve been so completely naff -- concept albums often are, frequently falling prey to their own ambition and overly-serious dedication to the subject matter concerned -- but the impish Welsh singer/songwriter and L.A. beatmaster handle the conceit with humor, reverence, and more than a little insight as well. Better yet, the album just as successfully when considered merely as a collection of songs, no more, no less. Isolate any of these synth-wigglers from the concept album construct, and you’ll still end up with a solid stand-alone track worthy of your hips and ears.

A neon yellow DeLorean: ready

Stainless Style is steeped a-plenty deep in the Back to The Future era. Much like the infamous DeLorean vehicle itself, the album is slick and sleek, squeaking from a hard polish that lands midway between glitzy and tacky beyond belief -- in the best possible way, mind you. Any recording which intends to faithfully, convincingly pay tribute to the 80s must speak with a fluency in the rhythmic- and synth-cheeses of the times, and Neon Neon apparently has taken a full-immersion course in the language.

Continue reading "Neon Neon hop in the DeLorean, speed back to the future" »

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

By Todd Lavoie

Marty Willson-Piper, "Questions Without Answers" (1989)

What a treat! Singer/songwriter/founding member of Aussie atmosphere-masters The Church, Marty Willson-Piper, is doing a special solo-spotlight show--- backed by the alluringly-named Mood Maidens--- at the Great American Music Hall on Sunday, May 4th. As far as I remember, the last time he played here in the city was back in the summer of '06, with The Church, at the same venue. Ah, what a show that was--- ever-genteel bandmate Steve Kilbey joked about spearheading an "Elizabethan Rock" movement, and Willson-Piper obliged by bringing delicate, graceful guitar-dexterity to Church slow-burners and ambience-anthems such as "Under The Milky Way", "Chromium", and "Metropolis". No word yet about whether Elizabethan Rock is still on the front burner for the band, but the charming, quick-quipping guitarist/big-hit-with-the-ladies does have a new album out--- entitled Nightjar (Heyday Records), it's a gorgeous collection of warm-textured folk-rock pushed along by some of the most delicious six string jangles since, well, the last Church album, really.

Is an introduction to The Church necessary? Probably not, so how about a reminder, then: ever since releasing their debut Of Skins and Heart (Arista/EMI) back in 1981, the band has released well over a dozen albums and EP's matching (frequently) melancholy neo-psychedelic atmospherics with mystical subject matter, and Willson-Piper has, along with lead singer Kilbey, been a constant in their two-decades-deep career. Much of their success should be attributed to his ability to float just the right color of aura to their formidable mood-making; it's tough to imagine the smoldering majesty of Church classics like 1985's "Myrrh", 1988's "Antenna", or 2003's "Sealine" without Marty's sublime textures. Then, of course, there's the perennial crowd-fave of "Spark"--- the taut, sneering Mod stomper from 1988's Starfish (Arista) gave the band's usual backing-vocalist a truly inspired turn at the lead mic. Two particularly fascinating recent-additions to the band's catalogue--- 2004's El Momento Descuidado and 2007's El Momento Siguiente (both Liberation Music)--- both offer exquisite "unplugged" revisits to career-highlights, and here, free of feedback and pedal effects, one can gain a whole new appreciation for his intricate guitar-work. Perhaps they also had an effect on the recording of Nightjar, as this new solo jaunt seems to share a kinship with the lush folk ambience of both albums. Granted, the disc does indeed have its electric moments--- it even occasionally rocks out in that slow purposeful grind associated with latter-day Church recordings--- but it's easy to imagine Nightjar as a younger, rougher-around-the-edges sibling to the Momento twins.

Continue reading "Church lets out with Marty Willson-Piper" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 09:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Man Man, oh, man.

Man, there's too much to do - you can blame it on Coachella for luring so many interesting acts westward.

MAN MAN
Beards, stuffed animals, and the sound of Philadelphia - this is what Man Man shows are made of. Man Man's new album, Rabbit Habits (Anti-), has also been touched by facial hair. Count on much instrument passing, a palpable sense of humor, and fever dreams revolving round cheesetofu sandwiches. With Yeasayer. Wed/23, 9 p.m., $16. Great American Music Hall, 859 O’Farrell, SF. (415) 885-0750.

RACONTEURS
A pretty fun rockin' time was had by all at the supergroup's last show at the Warfield. Consolers of the Lonely sound like the combo are up to their mad, sad old tricks. With Birds of Avalon. Wed/23, 8 p.m., sold out. Bimbo’s 365 Club, 1025 Columbus, SF. (415) 474-0365.

HER SPACE HOLIDAY
San Mateo rising! Suburban savant Marc Bianchi is back from holiday with a new album to come on Mush Records - and his first children's book, The Telescope, which was released in Japan. With Lymbyc System and Head Like a Kite. Thurs/24, 9 p.m., $12. Bottom of the Hill, 1233 17th St., SF. (415) 621-4455.

Continue reading "Sonic Reducer Overage: Her Space Holiday, KUSF, Raconteurs, Pre, Basia Bulat, Night Marchers, Man Man, and so much more" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 11:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Alex Felsinger

For the latest installment of Fearless Records' noble quest to release the worst-themed cover-song compilations ever, they've truly one-upped themselves with the horrendously misnamed Punk Goes Crunk. It should have been called Popular Rock Goes Mainstream Rap, but, of course, that doesn't have a nice ring to it. While the definition of punk has become so egregiously convoluted that some may claim that New Found Glory and Hot Rod Circuit are actually punk, no one can dispute that Will Smith's Men in Black theme song is not crunk by any means. Nor is 2pac, Notorious B.I.G., the Roots, Snoop Dogg, or any of the other artists unfortunate enough to have their hits covered on this disc.

At first, the idea is kind of funny - I mean, it does rhyme. Beyond that, however, it's bad. The first track, which happens to be the only actual cover of a crunk song, highlights the Bay Area's own Set Your Goals covering Lil Jon's "Put Yo Hood Up." Like most songs on the compilation, the band doesn't try to give the song any kind of punk or pop-punk makeover, but rather takes the opportunity to try their own hand at rapping. With the help of a redundant chorus sung by what sounds like Yoda, the tune sets the overall tone for the collection.

The comp has a few somewhat interesting tracks, including Say Anything's rendition of Ol' Dirty Bastard's "Got Yo Money," which is good for a couple laughs. But it's clear by the end that humanity has already endured enough experimentation between rock and rap (i.e., ahem, Limp Bizkit) and at some point, the genres need to go back to their respective corners. Frankly, I thought they already had. Some of these tracks were originally intended for release on Immortal Records' Yo! Indie Rock Raps compilation, but they canned the concept. Fearless should have taken note.

Perhaps recognizing that no one would ever put their own money towards purchasing Punk Goes Crunk, the label has put the entire release up online to hear for free. Lucky you.

WARPED TOUR
With most groups featured on Punk Goes Crunk
June 21, 11 a.m., $33
Pier 30/32, SF
(415) 421-TIXS

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 08:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

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 (0)

By Todd Lavoie

Charmed, I am - former Arab Strap post-folkie Malcolm Middleton has just released his fourth album, Sleight of Heart (Full Time Hobby), and it's a corker, I'm telling you. A fitting title, too - there's some lovely little magic at play here, fashioning such shimmers and sparkles from the sadder reaches of the emotional continuum.

Sleight of heart? Sleight of hand, while we're at it. Middleton plays a swift game of "now you see it, now you don't" in his songwriting, tossing up chippy-chip-chipper bluebirds of melody only to smother them in his smog-gray handkerchief with the turn of a devastating phrase. Ol' Malcolm's a master at such trickery, often creating a mighty impressive gulf between the listener's initial surface-level perceptions of the song and the eventual under-the-skin burrowing that takes place later, if given the chance. Simply put, our man crafts some of the most immediately accessible brittle-hearted music you're likely to hear anytime soon.

It's been a curious journey for Middleton. Back in 1995, he and Aidan Moffat forged a distinctively stark, soul-baring form of epic disturbo-folk under the eyebrow-raising name Arab Strap (noun: a contraption used by a man to maintain an erection during intercourse). As the moniker would suggest, the duo didn't shy away from matters of a carnal nature, but even more arresting was their willingness to dredge up the uglier, less flattering aspects of the human experience.

Continue reading "Arab Strap's Malcolm Middleton gets up the gritty magic" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 08:17 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)

Birthed in New Zealand and suckled on Cali pop, Maori folk, and assorted indie-rock eclectic undefinables, the Ruby Suns plucked the title for their new sophomore album, Sea Lion (Sub Pop), from our very shores: the critters basking off Highway 1. I exchanged e-mails with Ruby Suns' king Ryan McPhun, who appears with his band tonight, April 4, at Bottom of the Hill.

SFBG: So why title your new album after the sea lions who live near San Francisco? What sort of experiences have you had with them?

Ryan McPhun: I guess my explanation is not too complicated. My girlfriend and i were driving down the coast on Highway 1 and came across this colony. We sat and watched these animals for about an hour. We were really close. They were making some amazing noises. It was a great time, so that's why. It was an inspiring trip.

Continue reading "Sweet, sweet Ruby Suns shine a light tonight" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 11:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Striped, Ripe, Culty, and Sultry: the Cribs. Photo by J. Beckman.

Who are these mystery scamps in UK's the Cribs - working with Franz Ferdinand's Alex, Sonic Youth's Lee Renaldo, and the Smiths' Johnny Marr alike? And landing at Popscene tonight, April 3? I traded e-mails with the youngest Jarman brother, Ross, who drums in the threesome.

SFBG: What's it like being a "family band"? And do you think they get a bad rap?

Ross Jarman: To be honest, we are unaware what it is like to be anything but a family band. I'm curious what being in a band with your friends is like. I think being in a band with your brothers is easier, as there is more honesty towards writing, etc., and it keeps the three of us on a level playing field.

SFBG: What was it like to work with Alex from Franz Ferdinand on the Mens Needs... album?

RJ: Being in the studio with Airwolf was a lot of fun. We had offers from other producers before he came into the equation, but we didn't want to make a record that sounded like a load of others, so going in with a producer who was producing for the first time out of his own circle, we knew we were going to get something unique. He also knew the band a lot more than any other producer, as he had seen us play every night for two months on a tour of the US.

Continue reading "Out of the mouths of Cribs: controversy, needs, and the Replacements" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 10:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Joshua Rotter

Bon Jovi's iconic "Livin' on a Prayer" video, showcasing the band's fresh faces and glossy personas, did much in the way of packaging the so-called metal band for pop consumption in the late '80s. Clearly, no group encapsulates the poppy side of the sound like Bon Jovi, making their greatest hits and latest hits "Lost Highway" and "(You Want to) Make a Memory," off their number one disc, Lost Highway (Mercury Nashville, 2007), popular among both the day-care and home-health-care sets.

Last week, however, things appeared a lot lighter on the pop and heavier on the metal when Bon Jovi guitarist Richie Sambora was arrested on a DUI charge, while driving his 10-year-old daughter, Ava. Due in court in May, he is also expected to face child endangerment charges.

This is only Sambora's latest setback over the last couple years following a high-profile divorce from actress Heather Locklear - over alleged infidelity with friend Denise Richards - in addition to a stint in rehab for alcohol abuse, and the death of his dad from lung cancer.

Last month, as the band prepared to launch the 36-city North American leg of their Lost Highway tour, a sober Sambora discussed how he overcame some of these difficulties by starting work on the Lost Highway LP and planning one of the biggest tours of 2008. Bon Jovi appears April 2 and 8 at the HP Pavilion in San Jose.

SFBG: Bon Jovi is known for massive stage shows. What can fans expect this time around?

Richie Sambora: We’ve got a bunch of HD screens that are just morphing into different things. It’s going to be a spectacle that people have never seen before. From what we know after 25 years of experience in these stages and stuff like that, it looks like a holy-cow moment. People are going to walk away going, "Wow, this is really cool.”

Continue reading "Richie Sambora, what happened? Livin' on Bon Jovi love" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 10:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Yes, it seems like some bizarre spoof: The Warriors mixes it up with Dashboard Confessional and West Side Story, across the border. But word - according to Mexican TV news reports and other print sources, along with this piece by Exclaim - has it that emo-bashing has become popular among assorted subcultural tribes in Mexico City and elsewhere. (Thanks to Amber Asylum's Kris Force for tipping us to the insanity.)

Exclaim holds forth: "According to Daniel Hernandez, who’s been covering the anti-emo riots on his blog Intersections, the violence began March 7, when an estimated 800 young people poured into the Mexican city of Queretaro’s main plaza “hunting” for emo kids to pummel. Then the following weekend similar violence occurred in Mexico City at the Glorieta de Insurgents, a central gathering space for emos. Hernandez also reports that several anti-emo riots have now also spread to various other Mexican cities. Via the Austin American Statesmen, several postings on Mexican social-networking sites, primarily organizing spot for these “emo hunts,” have been dug up and translated. One states: 'I HATE EMOS!!! They are not even people, they are so stupid, they cry over meaningless things… My school is infested with them, I want to kill them all!'

"Another says: 'We’ve never seen all the urban tribes unite against one single tribe before… Emos, their way of thinking is for crap, if you are so depressed please do us all a favour and kill yourselves!'"

Yikes, what did My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy ever do to these haters? OK, yeah, I know... but still, why can't kids just get along?

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 04:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

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)

Learning to love again with Ra Ra Riot. All photos by Kimberly Chun.

O SXSW, what a mixed bag thou art. Good-looking from across a crowded Kiwanis Hall, good-looking (if somewhat huge-pored and flushed with Lone Stars) close up, and even better-looking receding in the distance. Yes, I'm waving, not drowning, with this, a last, lingering, photo-centric dispatch from Saturday, March 15.

Just breathe: Inca Ore.

Solo artists (from Portland, Ore. by way of the Bay) Inca Ore and Grouper stole an intimate house party, organized by Guardian contributor and Club Sandwich mastermind George Chen. A nice alternative to Todd P's day-shows at Ms. Bea's - on the sleepy, leafy, chill side of the Colorado River. Chen's combo KIT also tore it up, following up their Upset the Rhythm showcase earlier that week.

Meow! KIT.

Off-kilter harmonies from the twins of Scary Mansion.

Continue reading "SXSW: Up on Duffy, Ra Ra Riot, Carbon Silicon, Inca Ore, Kate Nash, and more" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 12:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

“We fought hard for the right to be in control of how our music is used, to avoid situations like this kind of crass commercialism and exploitation. Labels like EMI are no longer running the show, and we won't be bullied by those in the 'old' music business who consider every artist to be easily expendable. Those days are over.” - Billy Corgan

This just in from the Smashing Pumpkins' publicists: "The Smashing Pumpkins have filed a lawsuit this week against Virgin Records, their former record label, for the unauthorized exploitation of the band’s musical works and image as well as for devaluing the market value of its music and deceiving its fans.

"Filed in the Superior Court of the State of California in Los Angeles, the suit states that Virgin Records—without the band’s knowledge or permission—endorsed and sponsored a worldwide promotional marketing campaign by Amazon.com and Pepsi for both companies to promote and sell Amazon and Pepsi products for financial profit.

Continue reading "Smashing Pumpkins file suit against ex-label Virgin" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 11:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The race is on: Earl Greyhound made an appearance at the Afro-Punk/Matrix showcase at SXSW.

By Kandia Crazy Horse

In the wake of my man John Edwards’s withdrawal from the current presidential race and subsequent taking up the torch for our fair music editor’s fellow Punahou alumnus Obama as Negro First, I officially became old. So I lacked sufficient energy and brain cells to take on SXSW 2008 – but, music ‘ho that I am, I did it anyway.

Clearly, Barack Obama’s sustained ascent as the most dissected American presidential candidate has by now confirmed his superfly rock-star status, crowding and overshadowing the field pursued by artists with recent/forthcoming new releases such as Jack White of the Raconteurs, the brers of Gnarls Barkley, Union Jack black singing cowboy Lightspeed Champion, and Saul Williams, a.k.a., Niggy Tardust - the latter two made the South By scene all around hip Austin (and Gnarls appeared via tacked-up Odd Couple lampoons, courtesy of Atlantic). I hesitated to fly down into Bush Country, considering the volatile political climate at present and the specter of terrorism making every airport visit unpleasant at best.

And, too, I had personal reservations: at the last three South By festivals, my life has fallen apart by degrees: in 2006, with the diagnosis of my late Mother’s pancreatic cancer and decision to divorce being the absolute worst. Still, I was invited to speak about press and, whether SXSW has completely devolved into “hipster spring break with bands” in recent years, the festival retains the possibility to offer exposure to unheard-of music and/or reconnect with rarely seen friends from the Left Coast and abroad.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 12

Rising before cockcrow at 3 a.m., I saddled up in bespoke hat, denim and black leather to hit a too-early flight out of NY LaGuardia and made it to Austin’s Bergstrom already dazed and confused via Houston connection from George Bush Airport. After a swift check-in at the Hilton Garden Inn downtown where I happened to run into my panel mate, Nick Baily of Shorefire Media, and we concurred that we were in the dark about how to express ourselves (one of last year’s highlights was meeting O.G. Expressor Charles Wright), it was off to run the Convention Center gauntlet in pursuit of festival badges, assorted data, schwag and making it to the panelists’ green room on time. No surreys nor press satoris available. So Nick and I jes’ winged it (wung it?) before a surprisingly full room, and tried our best to respond to the artists trailing in our wake all the way back to the hotel.

Continue reading "SXSW: This ain't another fear and loathing praisesong" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 08:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Oh you're not so silent, Jens. Photo by Kimberly Chun.

If imitation is the most sincere form of flattery, then Swedish indie pop maestro Jens Lekman must be feeling pretty swell: by his own estimation, he's accrued an army of faux MySpace and Facebook followers-poseurs since he took his own MySpace site down. The 27-year-old singer-songwriter - currently based in Melbourne, Australia, though not, he claims, for long - is embracing both the love and fictitious narratives being spun by his Jens puppets/impersonators, and likewise, he encouraged me to make up more outta-hand tales when I spoke to him at the eerily generic, brass 'n' business-class Omni Hotel in Austin, Texas, during South by Southwest.

We'll see how wild it gets - and how crazy Lekman will be tonight, March 23, at Bottom of the Hill, when he plays solo, sans band, and full of, he promises, surprises.

SFBG: What have you seen at South by Southwest so far?

Jens Lekman: Tough Alliance - it's really interesting because they're such a Swedish phenomenon in one way. I think they're the most influential band in Sweden right now. But it's so hard - the crowd there at that place, I think, were a bunch of bloggers, who were like, "Hmm, what should I think about this," you know. And they got so frustrated because they're very much about energy. They play for 10 minutes and they just go offstage.

SFBG: Do you get that tough blogger crowd?

JL: No, when I play in New York, maybe. I think I've always had those people standing there smiling. That's my favorite reaction.

SFBG: Any superfans?

JL: I met this guy last night, this 45-year-old guy. Well, I dunno if he's 45 but he's in his 40s. He's going to see eight shows, I think, on this tour, with his whole family, and they're organizing this big barbecue party in Madison when we get there.

SFBG: So the last album, Night Falls Over Kortedala [Secretly Canadian, 2007], is a collection of older songs? What made you want to put them out in an album format?

JL: Yeah, I think all my albums have been like that. They've always been a collection of what I've been doing in the last three or four years. I just write songs - that's all I do. I can't put them together into an entity. So this time I had a bunch of friends pick them for me. I gave them about 30 songs, and they called me up and had a little bit of a Eurovision song contest. They'd say, "Song number eight - that's definitely 10 points, yeah, and song number seven, that's seven points." I think I'll do that in the future as well. It works so well. They saw the golden thread through the songs that I couldn't see myself. I always had a problem with putting things together like that. I couldn't see the connection myself.

Continue reading "SXSW: Indie pop genius Jens Lekman makes it up as he goes along" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 06:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Landland of Minneapolis, Minn.

South By Southwest ain't nothing but loud, loud music; industry speakers; white-bread-bedecked barbecue; protein bar giveaways; soused UT students; and lil' pools o' puke if it weren't for the American Poster Institute-sponsored Flatstock show, presented every year for the last five years alongside the music conference. I checked the state of the art - and came away with an eyeful of music posters that popped.

Leia Bell of Salt Lake City.

Status Serigraph of Knoxville, Tenn.

Continue reading "SXSW: Flatstock abounds with poster pulchritude" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 07:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

It's all Santogold. All photos by Kimberly Chun.

South By - why, a week later, the wrap-up keeps coming. Here's what was on the plate Friday night, March 14 - in addition to the beef rib barbecue and banana pudding with Nilla wafers at Iron Works.

Soft sweat: Kim Hiorthoy.

I was glad to catch a few songs by Kim Hiorthoy in the SXSW day stage at the convention center's cafeteria. The Oslo, Norway, knob-twirler headed up the Smalltown Supersound showcase Wednesday night - here he performed with a percussionist pal, making more meditative, ambient sounds than the house-tinged music he ended up delivering at the Boredoms SF show on March 18.

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful - hate me because of my bad band name: the Ting Tings.

The evening started out at Stubb's for the Ting Tings, art-pop duo from Salford, UK - the twosome has been surprising listeners with their infectious, dancey sass. Spunky, model-esque Katie White managed to hold the stage on her lonesome, thrashing away at her guitar.

Continue reading "SXSW: Santogold is golden along with Sightings, the Ting Tings, Torche, and more" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 09:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Baby wants to wear their White Shoes.

Too tuckered out by South By Southwest? Hey, I saw you at the Boredoms the other night! Surely you're not too pooped to pop for these indie-rockers.

WHITE SHOES AND THE COUPLES COMPANY
Brimming with silky retro charm, this ultra-cute Indonesian combo on Minty Fresh scored a spot as one of Billboard's "12 Acts to Watch at SXSW." Do they remind you of UK space-pop revivalists of the past ala Stereolab and High Llamas? Find out for yourself before the band hoofs it back to their homeland: these are their only other North American shows besides SXSW.

White Shoes and the Couples Company perform tonight, March 20, 6 p.m., at Amoeba Music, 1855 Haight, SF. Free. (415) 831-1200. They perform with Foxtail Somersault tonight, May 20, 9 p.m., at Make-Out Room, 3225 22nd St., SF. $12. (415) 647-2888.

HEADLIGHTS
The Champaign, Ill., indie-pop fivesome have played more than 300 shows a year since their 2004 inception. So you know they gotta have it down at this point: winsome is as winsome does on their new full-length, Some Racing, Some Stopping (Polyvinyl), which shows off Headlights' love o' '60s pop hooks.

Headlights appear with School of Language and the Evangelicals Friday, March 21, 9:30 p.m., Hemlock Tavern, 1131 Polk, SF. $10. (415) 923-0923.

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 08:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Signage modification - Austin, Texas-style. All photos by Kimberly Chun.

What a weird lil' South By this is? Can it get any stranger than the evening of March 13, which started out at Stubb's for a sold-out anti-war concert, "Body of War," linked to the feature documentary on 25-year-old Tomas Young, who was paralyzed from a bullet to his spine, taken after serving in Iraq for less than a week. System of a Down's Serj Tankian accompanied himself on piano, Billy Bragg presented a powerful "Farmer Boy," and Kimya Dawson, Ben Harper, and RX Bandits filled out the bill. (Sightings of the Dawson's infant being cartered by her partner, abounded throughout the fest).

Gimme more Ex Cocaine.

Then it was off to the Siltbreeze showcase at Soho Lounge for a hand drum-driven Ex Cocaine from Missoula, Montana, and the stirring guitar-electronics invocations of Blues Control from Brooklyn. Good to see such a sizable crowd out for what many might see as a micro-niche night.

Outta-hand Blues Control.

Made few pitstops at Friends for the soon-to-be capacity Carbon/Silicon showcase (witness the scores of disappointed Clash fans milling around before their 11:30 p.m. set outside, cordoned off by police tape just so they don't get raucous). London's Noah and the Whale plied their rootsy folky harmonies with sweetness and high spirits.

Swallow this: Noah and the Whale.

More ambitious but definitely more streamlined lineup-wise, was Florence and the Machine, also from London town, over at BBC/Steve Lamacq's event at the Rio. Like a sweet, over-the-top cross between Kate Bush and a high school musical theater star, Flo mimed drowning, quasi-tap-danced, and threw her gold-sequined jacket to an audience member when she grew encumbered. All accompanied only by ukulele. And with plenty of drama for all.

The Fantasticks, anyone? Florence and the Machine.

Time to queue for the Playboy/C3 (presenters of Lollapalooza, et al) ninth annual late-night party. The line wound round the block of the "301" warehouse and the media line (through the back entrance - I felt like I ought to be helping with the dishes!) was just as crazed. Once inside, after watching oodles of would-be media types getting turned away at the list, I spied Perez Hilton all in white, with white shorn locks, got my beverage (check the ample barbecue midnight snack), and studied the Heavy as they cozied up to playmates in sad drooping bunny ears and cotton tails.

Things got Heavy.

Continue reading "SXSW: Playboy bods and yobs, "Body of War," sniffing a Siltbreeze" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 01:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)