THE INTERCHANGEABLE HEARTS
Lost
(Zeitgeist)

By Todd Lavoie

Losing oneself isn't necessarily something to shy away from; in the case of the debut EP from San Francisco trio Interchangeable Hearts, such an outcome should probably be welcomed. Fronted by the coolly unhurried vocals of Lina Hancock, the three-piece arrives well-versed in matching stark atmospherics with melancholic ruminations on matters of love, at times recalling Midnight Movies at their most minimal or Sub Pop-era Saint Etienne at their most somber.

"Now That I'm Gone" is a captivating opening statement, starting off with a ghostly slink of haunted-house organ and sumptuously detached vocals before spinning itself into hi-hat- and bubble-bass-driven disco release, with Hancock achieving a curious blend of resignation and euphoria in her dancefloor declaration, "All the stars in the sky and the light in my eyes/it makes me fall apart." Fluid bass lines and weightless organ whirrs also largely inform the engrossingly floatable handclap-funk of "March," and the elegant balladry of "Be Mine" glides along with a tearful melody and stately piano worthy of Burt Bacharach - think Ivy without the French-accented vocals.

"Maze" offers the Interchangeable Hearts at their most spooked-out, thanks to the billowing puffs of organ which keep the song hovering somewhere in the ether. Top marks, however, go to "On My Knees," a coy tempo-shifter buoyed by Hancock's taunting chorus of "look me in the eyes and make me remember you."

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 12:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Dina Maccabee

The rumors are true: a band member has confirmed that if you buy Chow Nasty's new album Super (Electrical) Recordings (Omega/Redeye) at an independent record store, you can get into their show at the Uptown in Oakland on April 25 for free, if you bring a receipt. Granted, that might be an easy sell to folks who already dig the Bay Area band's guerilla party tactics but just haven't gotten around to picking up their own personal copy of Super (Electrical) Recordings. Isn't it more likely, though, that you'd be lured into buying a CD after taking in a kick-ass set and enough beer to soften the impact of forking over 15 bucks?

No matter, the thing to celebrate here isn't free admission to the Uptown - it's that these guys managed to translate even a fraction of the lunacy of their live show to a recording. Chow Nasty is the party-est band I've ever seen, crafting a militantly bizarre beat-fest out of stage rituals paying homage to James Brown and the Beastie Boys.

On tape, the combination of inanely indelicate rhymes (like MC Pep Love's contribution, "I'm a give it to you / it's a party in your mouth / and I'm coming through," a slightly zany approach to hip-hop conventions, and a kind of studied boneheadedness result amid a fantastic funk frenzy reminiscent of Beck's Prince-loving album Midnight Vultures (DGC, 1999). For this tour the drum-machine-vocals-bass trio includes a sidekick on trombone and guiro who reportedly refuses to perform in anything but a sleeveless velour track suit. Hell, yes - or should I say, "Ungawa!"

CHOW NASTY
With Trackademics, HotTub, and DJ Eddie Bauer
Fri/25, 9 p.m., $8
The Uptown
1928 Telegraph, Oakland
(510) 451-8100

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 09:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Party with me, plus. All photos by Joshua Rotter.

By Joshua Rotter

Going out dancing can be a confidence-buster for peeps of all sizes. But the extreme shame imposed on plus-size women often outweighs their desire to hit da club. Full-figured party promoter Lady Tigress was no different. “I was never a clubber in my twenties because I didn't feel like I would be comfortable in a nightclub setting,” Tigress said. “I bought into what I saw on TV and thought everyone in bars or dance clubs looked like Beyonce or Britney.”

In a world where the Barbie doll reigns supreme, these notions are only reinforced by a media that has little love for big girls. Rarely on the covers of magazines, large women remain the laughing stock of hip-hop videos, the early eliminations on reality showmances, and stand-up fodder for late night television: think Jay Leno’s Jonah and the whale jokes about Lewinskygate. And Lady Tigress knows that clubland is no kinder.

“There are gorgeous plus-size women in all types of clubs all over the Bay,” Tigress said. “But even if they are confident, there is snickering that sometimes happens when a crew of big girls shows up at a mainstream club, or they are sometimes ignored because a lot of people don't want to admit that they are attracted to women who live outside of the super-skinny American beauty standard.”

After Tigress started going out to Bay Area BBW parties such as Big Boogie Nights, Sexy at Any Size, and Heavy Rotation in her thirties, she realized that if the event was fat-friendly, these women would come out and party. So Tigress was inspired to create an even larger night, a hip-hop party for plus-size women and their fans called Full Figure Friday, and decided to host her evening, unlike similar hotel-based events across the Bay, at the stylish San Francisco club Bambuddha Lounge.

Continue reading "Clubs: Bootyful action at Full Figure Friday" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 01:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

By Jamilah King

Bay Area DJ Kero One likes to say that he got his Seoul from Korea. Regardless of its origins, his talents as a producer, DJ, and MC are creating a big buzz in hip-hop. He's collaborated with Grand Puba, Aloe Blacc, and Ohmega Watts. His smooth sound takes hip-hop back to its roots while also moving it forward. Tonight, March 11, Kero One performs at 111 Minna Gallery; he also has a monthly at Madrone Lounge.

He sat down to talk about his music, and more.

SFBG: You're from the Bay. Where in the Bay did you grow up?

Kero One: I grew up in the Santa Clara area, and moved to the city about three years ago to get more serious about my music career.

SFBG: When did you fall in love with music?

KO: I remember being really little and staying up into the wee hours of the night to listen to the radio and stations like KMEL. My mom would come in and try to get me to go to bed, then I'd get right back up and turn the radio on and listen to stuff like Boogie Down Productions, and all the stuff that was big in the late '80s.

Continue reading "Clubs: producer-DJ-MC Kero One looks to the Bay and abroad" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 08:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Reflections on Enon. Photo by Emily Wilson.

So much to do and see, Lee. And Prince headlining Coachella on Saturday, April 26, doesn't make the schedule any easier. Check out all these worthy shows that were fit for print but simply didn't make the trim this week.

KING BROTHERS AND THE FLAKES
Kawaii-cute Japanese distorto-rockers meet Bay Area garage first-schoolers. With Shellshag and Bananas. Thurs/10, 8:30 p.m., $10. Bottom of the Hill, 1233 17th St., SF. (415) 621-4455.

HERCULES AND LOVE AFFAIR
"I cannot hold / a half a life / I cannot be / at half a wife." So goes "Time Will" off Hercules and Love Affair's new self-titled DFA/EMI album. Dulcet warbles care of Antony of Antony and the Johnsons meet cool synthetics with keys by Andrew Butler and drum programming by DFA's Tim Goldsworthy. Instant love affair, for sure. With Timo Maas and Honey Soundsystem. Fri/11, 10 p.m. doors, $15-$30. Mezzanine, 444 Jessie, SF. (415) 820-9669.

Continue reading "Sonic Reducer Overage: Mocheeba, Hercules and Love Affair, Enon, David Banner, and mo'" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 01:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Ocean Drive divas. All photos by Robin Russell.

Contributing photog Robin Russell closes her WMC dispatches with a stop at Giant Step Presents Sunset Soiree at the Delano Hotel on March 29. Look for Turntables on the Hudson, out with Supreme Beings of Leisure at Mezzanine on April 18.

Nickodemus steals over to the wheels o' steel.

Turntables on the Hudson melded classic house textures and afrobeat rhythms.

The scene down south.

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 09:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Marcus Worgull got the crowd going. All photos by Robin Russell.

Winter Music Conference in Miami rolled onward as contributing photographer Robin Russell checked out the popular local party Aquabooty Music2 at Opium Garden on March 29. Innervsions artists like Ame, Dixon, Henrik Schwarz and Marcus Worgull appeared along with DJ Harvey and Miguel Migs.

Rich Medina spun Philly soul.

Mr. White and Marcus Worgull took the stage.

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 07:52 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

King Britt and Victor Duplaix make the scene. All photos by Robin Russell.

Contributing photog Robin Russell made a stop at the fourth annual Art of Seduction party at the Victor Hotel on March 29 during Miami's Winter Music Conference. King Britt and Duplaix headed a bill that included DJ Rashida, Eleonora, Manchild Black, Taylor McFerrin, DJ Dozia, and Kayree.

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 10:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Groove Junkies got the junk out of the trunk at Terry Thompson and Friends Presents. All photos by Robin Russell.

Maimi's Winter Music Conference kept the beat going as contributing photographer Robin Russell stopped into both Push FM/R2 Records' soiree at Love Hate and the Terry Thompson and Friends Presents event at the Chelsea Hotel on Friday, March 28.

Push FM DJ Abicah Soul manned the decks at the bash hosted by the London online radio station.

The crowd at Push FM/R2 Records' night.

John "Julius" Knight made an appearance at Terry Thompson's Baltimore/DC house throwdown.

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 09:52 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Ruben Mancias, Wumni, and Jellybean Benitez meet in Miami. All photos by Robin Russell.

The Winter Music Conference's Jellybean Soul label party at Hotel Victor on Friday, March 28, was next on contributing photog Robin Russell's schedule in Miami. Here's what she caught.

Little Louie Vega and Mike "Agent X" Clark are all smiles.

London-born singer-dancer Wumni lent her vocals to Ruben Mancias's "Let It Rain (Ko Ma Ro)."

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 10:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Vikter Duplaix and Daz-I-Kue (Bugz in the Attic) get down at the Om party. All photos by Robin Russell.

Contributing photographer Robin Russell swung through Miami's Winter Music Conference, which ran from March 25-29, and sent these dispatches. First up: the fete thrown by SF-based Om Records at Y Ultralounge on Thursday, March 27.

Cobblestone Jazz settles in.

Things heat up at the Om party.

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 10:04 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)

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)

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)

Get an earful of what everyone at SXSW was yapping 'bout: longtime Oaklander Darondo performs, backed by Nino Moschella, at Shattuck Down Low tonight, March 21. Low-ridah soul - with vanity plates, sho - and R&B comes to town once more in the form of the Ubiquity artist who once opened for James Brown and hung with Fillmore Slim.

DARONDO
With Nino Moschella
Friday/21, 9:30 p.m., $12
Shattuck Down Low
2284 Shattuck, Berk.

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 01:43 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)

By Todd Lavoie

My ears might still be ringing, but it's totally worth it, I tell you: checked out English quadruple-lunged soul powerhouse Alice Russell's white-hot-and-beyond groove-a-thon last night, March 11, at Mojito, and it was the best decision I've made all month.

Girl could sing the ass clean off everybody in that room, honestly, and so that's exactly what she did - two explosive 45-minute sets and an encore later, she'd leveled that place. Best part of all? Russell pulled it all off with buckets of charm, quipping and chuckling and getting on with the crowd like a house on fire: no diva moments, no attitudinal posturing.

And while I didn't exactly take a poll afterwards, I've got a sneaking feeling most folks in attendance felt the same way I did: we'd witnessed something very, very special. If you didn't make it to either show (she also slammed the Mojito crowd this past Monday, March 10), you're free to kick yourselves, but don't get too carried away: there's a good chance Russell might be coming back again soon. Most likely, when she does, she'll be hitting Mojito once more, having played there a few times already and having clearly cultivated a love-love relationship between artist and venue.

Continue reading "Alice Russell has our ears ringing" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 02:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Scenesters go with the soul at Missouri Lounge. Photo by Joshua Rotter.

By Joshua Rotter

If it's a soul night - be it Memphis, Philly, or Northern - I'm the first on the floor, spinning, flipping, and back-dropping. Still, I’ve never fully understood why white people, myself included, so identify with the genre - and seeing The Commitments several times has done little to clarify this for me.

So like a modern-day Penelope Spheeris, I took an anthropological adventure - to what felt like 20,000 leagues under and across the Bay via BART - to Berkeley’s Missouri Lounge for Soul Knockout to gain a better understanding of this phenomenon.

About to hit its first anniversary, Soul Knockout is hosted by DJ Hot Grits, Sweats the Bed, and seasoned veteran E Da Boss (Slept On Records) at a renovated dive bar that has become a pit stop for hip white kids, while still remaining down-home.

Continue reading "Clubs: Got soul? Succumb to Soul Knockout" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 04:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

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)

By Kandia Crazy Horse

Roughly two decades after Run-DMC and Aerosmith’s fruitful pairing showed rock could still be danceable in the emerging hip-hop era, negroes remain nonetheless officially skurred of guitars. Endless samples later, it’s not unusual for hot tracks to be powered by a skillful blend of beats and rock volume. Yet when a young black artist emerges from the community (or outside of it) desirous of doing a different thing, he or she is often still accused of wanting to play “whiteboy music.”

And so, we loop straight back to 1969 and the central sonic and social dilemma of rock history’s greatest black rock superstar: Jimi Hendrix. Before the eve of New Year’s 1970, electric magus Hendrix had attempted to free himself from the harsh realities of Jim Crow America by eschewing the strictures of the Chitlin’ Circuit – where he supported stars like Little Richard and the Brothers Isley - for music scenes and venues in Greenwich Village and then (swinging) London. Oftener than not, the response his career elicited in regular blackfolks was resentment that he left the Black Bottom to move to London and return as “white” and his proto-metal sound was baffling (as were his two white sidemen – the British rhythm section’s simulated Afros or no).

Meanwhile, the Panthers were already putting the touch on him, urging shy, spacey, “music has no race” Hendrix to come out strong on the side of blackskin chauvinism and actively support the revolution. This ish would plague Hendrix for the rest of his short life – and, in many ways, the ever-burgeoning afterlife of his career. Yet with the sequential formation of both the ill-fated big band Gypsy Suns and Moons (who accompanied him at Woodstock) and the power trio Band of Gypsys, he attempted to resolve the racial conundrum sonically as fitting for the manchile who’d slept with his guitar since youth.

Continue reading "Buddy Miles RIP - play on Brother Gypsy, sing on drummer" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 07:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

By Todd Lavoie

The name might not set your world on fire, but damn these guys are on to something good: Brooklyn's Nation Beat will bring their one-in-a-billion blend of Brazilian Maracatu, Appalachian roots music, and New Orleans-style funk to the Elbo Room this Saturday, March 8. What - scared at the prospect of such brazen genre-colliding, are you? Ah, don't be, sweet cheeks. By the time the night's over, you'll have long forgotten about silly little things like musical genre-pigeonholing. Honestly, why over-think when you can just follow your feet instead?

First, an explanation to the band's name. In northeastern Brazil - the birthplace of the percussion-heavy Afro-Brazilian dance/performance style known as Maracatu - practitioners of the genre identify their ensembles with the word nação ("nation"), a reference to the African countries from where they (or their ancestors) originally came. Most groups in Recife - the epicenter of Maracatu - begin their names with the words "Maracatu Nação," usually followed by some form of geographical reference.

Now, Nation Beat plays a variant of a traditional Maracatu known as "Maracatu de Baque Virado" - literally, "Maracatu of the Flipping Beat" (baque is "beat" in Portuguese). So, the band whittled down the name from these origins and translated it back to English rather than keeping it in Portuguese. What the moniker lacks in flow, it at least compensates for in cultural reverence.

Continue reading "Beating the drum for Nation Beat" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 04:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Too too much going on this Saturday March 8, kids, and these are just the above-ground parties! I don’t know how I’m gonna make ‘em all, but we just finished work on the next issue of Scene, our nightlife mag which drops next wednesday in the guardian (look for it!) and I'm ready to party my pumps off. Good thing I always carry an extra pair of bedazzled flats in my Safeway paper bag purse …

Leslie and the Lys, spaz-hop queens straight outta Iowa (via Boston) who recorded the immortal line “Wearing gold spandex pants/ I made a hip-hop album” will be rocking their goddam GEM SWEATERS at an early set (9pm) at the lezbo-rock heavenly Cockblock at Rickshaw Stop for only 10 stinkin’ bucks, which lets you stay the whole evening to hear the adorable DJ Nuxx and friends throw down.

Then it’s off to Kafana Balkan at 12 Galaxies (more info here), the city’s premier Romany dance party, with awesome, way-deeper-than-Balkan-Beatbox DJ Zejlko and friends. If it’s anything like the last one (with crazy pics we featured in the last Scene nightlife magazine) then we may not be able to tear ourselves away ….

Brass Menazerie at Kafana Balkan

to hit up one of the best-sounding parties at Mezzanine in, like, a week – Zizek featuring DJ/Rupture and Tormenta Tropical.

Continue reading "Clubs: Gem sweaters, buenos Zizeks, grimy Rupture, divas" »

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Posted by Marke B. at 05:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The Monophonics perform at Elbo Room in September at their CD release party.

By Ailene Sankur

Last Saturday I saw the seven-piece, horn-heavy funk band Monophonics at the Boom Boom Room, and they were freaking awesome. But let’s back up. Two summers ago, I saw legendary Bay Area funk jam band Vinyl - if you haven’t yet, go immediately - at the Boom Boom. It was back in my drinking days with a hard-partying boy, and we were both dancing - and fighting - like crazy to their old-school funk meets Latin groove music. I’m a pretty simple girl to please concert-wise: I only ask to feel the music deep in my belly and for it to make me want to move. That night, Vinyl did both.

I’ve been meaning to catch them again, so when I heard that the Monophonics were practically sired by Vinyl - drummer Austin Bohlman of the Monos was asked to bring together the “funkiest guys he knew” to make an opening band for Vinyl - I knew it was time to head back to the ‘Mo.

And was in love by the first blows from the sax. The Monophonics channel Tower of Power, the Meters, and Booker T. and the MGs, and, they would like to remind us, Vinyl.

Continue reading "Get outta yo' chair for the Monophonics" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 05:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Todd Lavoie

Who doesn't love the organ? (Ah, hush - you know what I meant! Minds out of the gutter, you dirty birdies - we're talking music here.)

Yes, that organ - y'know, ebony and ivory and the whole bit. Ah, the Hammond - where would we be without it? Somewhere far, far less soulful, that's for sure. Truth be told, if push came to shove, I'd have to stick the instrument up there near the top of my list of sounds-I-can't-do-without. And while I'm in the list-making mood and all, I might as well make myself another one and plunk Spooner Oldham's name atop the upper tier of all-time best organists ever.

Not only did the man help architect the iconic Muscle Shoals soul sound of the '60s - creating some heart-stopping classics in the process - but he's remained just as prolific and influential ever since. Take a trawl through your CD stacks, and chances are, you'll find his name in the liner notes somewhere. Recent examples? Hmm, how about Bettye LaVette's The Scene of the Crime (Anti), Cat Power's Jukebox (Matador), Drive-By Truckers' Brighter Than Creation's Dark (New West)?

Continue reading "The organ and the ecstasy: in praise of Spooner Oldham" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 09:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Wow -- on my second week in rehab I was scaling the drywall with toothpicks under my fingernails. But maybe if you put me in a closed studio packed full of record label plants and some stellar backing musicians (with an intro by Cuba Gooding, Jr.) then perhaps I could have delivered one of those super-extra special TV historical moments that Amy Winehouse provided last night at the Grammys, with the below double medley.

Her face at the end, a mask of screaming "fuck you" extrospective hypocrisy had me screaming "punk-ass goddess!!!"

Continue reading "Amy Grammy double-whammy kills it" »

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Posted by Marke B. at 09:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

"The truth can finally be told, Marke B.," said Trannyshack mama bear Heklina when I talked to her about her raucous 12-year-old trash-drag weekly at the Stud going dark in August. "I was gonna shut it down on our 10th anniversary -- that's just such a good, round number -- but I was in talks for the past two years with some big time studios about a Trannyshack reality series, so I kept it going. But I guess that's dead in the water now, so it's time to move on." Alas! But hurray for Heklina taking time out to figure herself out. And Trannyshack may return as a monthly, so that would be nice.

There have been so-so-so many disgustingly wonderful Trannyshack moments in the past dozen years to try to remember fully. I think I was at the opening night in 1996, but I was on a lot of meth then, so who the hell knows? Anyway, here are some performances for the ages. I'll be adding more in the next week as soon as I get off my ass and fight my way out of this paper bag hangover (never huff Aquanet people -- it'll make your tongue stick to the roof of your mouth.) And there are a ton of Trannyshack vids on YouTube -- except for some reason they've taken down clips from "Filthy Gorgeous: The Trannyshack Movie" -- I wanted that one where Juanita More and the dwarf get naked for "Put It In My Mouth." Anyway! Enjoy!

Heklina and Glamamore "All is full of love"

Rentecca and Kim Burley, "Two Trannies, One Cup"

Continue reading "Clubs: Trannyshack (fuzzy) memories" »