Dan Deacon, above, leads the mob, and a fiery dusk off Treasure Isle. All photos by Kimberly Chun.

By Kimberly Chun

Gawg-eous. And I mean both Dan Deacon - in full-tilt follow-me-folks mode and the jaw-dangler of a sunset Saturday night, Oct. 17, at this year's Treasure Island Music Festival. So sad that I couldn't get there early enough to catch Crown City Rockers and Federico Aubele and stumbled out too early to see alphabet-soup Bridge Stage acts MSTRKRFT and MGMT - nevertheless here are a few watercolor, waterside memories of the happenings mid-fest.

You gots to hand it to Dan Deacon - the man knows how to power out a show, either solo or with his current 12-piece Dan Deacon Ensemble. "We can get in the zone in three minutes!" yelped Deacon happily - ever the leader of the flock as he sounded out the air-guitar/air-conductor hand gestures shortly before his set. Way to get the energy up: the band entered on the waves of excitement generated by a stage-diving/ascending chum, who was carried from the audience and deposited onstage. And what a stage - crammed with musicians and sidekicks like the cavorting feller in the orange dot costume and a note-worthy three-piece drum ensemble. Switching it up from jumpy happy beats to piping drone, the outfit sounded for all the world like a spazz-tastic, kiddie digi-hardcore orchestra. Not all of Deacon's endeavors were a raging success - but try organizing a dance contest at the drop of Gucci-patterned fedora - and he continues to sound much better up close and on record than live (and across the Treasure Island compound) - but the man got the soiree started for sure.

The Streets followed, praising the crowd for its fashion-forward garb ("You also look great with it off!") and waxing humble about his own perpetual all-black ensemble and muttering about how well it hides dirt. The UK rapper was in a sexy yet unpredictable mood - dissing Sacramento, recalling his stage dive from a Fillmore balcony box, and commenting on the fact Treasure Isle is known for its solid sounds. At one point, he urged a woman perched on a pal's shoulders to take off her top while also chiding her for blocking the view of other fans. Beatles riffs floated over it all.

Later DJ Krush provided future-beats before for dinnertime while LTJ Bukem broke those beats and picked up the pace. As the sun set in flamingo pinks and outrageous purples, Brazilian Girls provided surprisingly good, if ditzy fun, closing their well-played set with a paean to - did I hear right - pussies as audience members climbed onstage to shimmy.

Other sights: the sad view of a tree broken by some jerk-offs who were watching the Streets from its branches. Puts a damper on the eco-friendly air surrounding the fest, no? A chainsaw came out as we bystanders gawked off to the side (one comment overheard: "Who cares?"). We found respite in the art booths on the adult midway, where we hung out stories written out on hand-painted petals in the Scales Project installation and checked out the live graf art. Sorry signs of the apocalypse: skate-board-ready Megan Fox and Kate Moss tributes.

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 09:51 AM | Comments (0)

By Kimberly Chun

The tao of Au, the Wu of a Killah -- that’s the spirit. More sounds to sit with and move to.

AU - RR vs. D from Rainbow Dropshadow on Vimeo.

Au
Toy pianos, ethereal vocals, and Portland, Ore.-steeped experimentation. With Why?, Mount Eerie, and Serengeti and Polyphonic. Sat/17, 9 p.m., $16. Great American Music Hall, 859 O’Farrell, SF. (415) 885-0750.

Dan Deacon
The high Deacon of the laptop gospel preaches to the choir. With Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, Teeth Mountain, and Nuclear Power Pants. Sat/17, 9 p.m., $10. Mezzanine, 444 Jessie, SF. (415) 820-9669.

Continue reading "Sonic Reducer Overage: Dan Deacon, Ghostface Killah, La Roux, and more" »

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Posted by Kimberly Chun at 11:05 PM | Comments (0)

By Michael Krimper

I tried to curb my anticipation for Gil Scott-Heron’s performance at the recently made-over Regency Ballroom (10/2/200). But how could I? I wanted him to amaze, to enrapture with his musical poetics, and most secretly, to redeem my nebulous view of a ‘70s-era politicized soulfulness unrivaled by today’s musicianship. It’s an idealistic and surely ridiculous image we children of the ‘80s have cultivated of the decade before ours. But it’s one so ingrained and endlessly cited that we can’t seem to shake free of it.

While Los Angeles revival funk band Orgone grooved (peep their solid cover of “Funky Nassau”), singer Fanny Franklin expressed equal excitement about bearing witness to the legend. And when Scott-Heron finally stepped onto stage, strutting choppily to the microphone, the audience erupted in wailing applause and shouts. He looked older and moved with certain difficulty, his body appearing thin underneath his loose-fitting clothes. His face was angular and gaunt, with patches of gray hair pouring from the sides of his hat and from his chin. A lady sitting in front of me asked incredulously if that old man indeed was Gil. I nodded with certainty but really had no idea. After all, he’s hardly recognizable compared to his younger self clad with the iconic Afro and psychedelic garb.

Gil Scott-Heron. Photo from allaboutjazz.com


Gil Scott-Heron in the '70s.

Today, it’s a rare occurrence to see Gil Scott-Heron. He has been in and out of prison for the past decade on drug and parole transgression charges. Scott-Heron perhaps indirectly addressed rumors about his well-being when he told the crowd at Regency that a media frenzy on the Internet continues to concoct all sorts of chimeras about his life.

Continue reading "Gil Scott-Heron today" »

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Posted by SFBG at 12:54 PM | Comments (1)

Hope is not dead for all those of us who liked to deaden/enliven our brain cells by listening to Energy 92.7 FM's unique mix of gay-friendly chatter and techno-pop-80s- whatever muzak.

Fernando and Greg just announced via Facebook, "Listen to Fernando and Greg beginning next week...find out where very soon!"

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Posted by SFBG at 05:16 PM | Comments (0)

By Dan Abbott

Skyler Fell, who performed at the SF Accordion Club's September gathering.

In an age of accelerating cultural fusion and mutation, it should come as no surprise that the accordion has undergone something of a renaissance. A staple of musical traditions from as far afield as Eastern Europe, Mexico, and Italy, the various permutations of the squeezebox has resurfaced with renewed vigor. The San Francisco Bay Area has become something of a hub for this rebirth, aided by both its location at the hub of cultural ley lines and its rich history as – believe it or not – an accordion exporting powerhouse.

Frank Montoro, president of the, San Francisco Accordion Club has watched accordion culture wax and wane with the times. Until the middle of the 20th century, there were at least five accordion factories churning out instruments in North Beach alone, Montoro says, mostly by Italians who’d brought generations of craft knowledge over from the Old Country.

“I watched my accordion being built, back in the ‘40s,” he remembers fondly. The advent of rock’n’roll and mass culture swept much of the accordion’s prestige (and visibility) away, Montoro says, until it seemed an ethnic relic, the obscure province of nerds, wedding music and Weird Al Yankovic. “Times have changed,” the octogenarian Montoro says. “If you like Swedish music, where are you going to go?”

Continue reading "Squeeze my box" »

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Posted by SFBG at 05:02 PM | Comments (0)

As West Fest approaches, Noise is showcasing some of the 18 different concert posters created for the event, which takes place on Sunday, October 25 at Golden Gate Park.

Here's a poster by Wendy Wright:

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Posted by SFBG at 04:10 PM | Comments (1)

By Nicole Gluckstern

The Raincoats. All photos by Morlock E.

Punk rock will never die, but as the years go by, old school punks often do wind up slowing down a bit. They start families, work at software companies or film studios, pay for rent and food -- all acts of respectable members of society. But just because you get a full-time job doesn’t mean you have to give up rock forever, you just have to cut back to part-time. At least that’s the premise that LA’s Part Time Punks club night founders Michael Stock and Benjamin White might have begun with when they threw their first party of late '70s-early '80s post-punk music in 2005.

Savage Republic

With time-tested acts such as the Slits, the Avengers, and Savage Republic and an impressive collection of URGH!-era rekkids to spin, the Part Time Punks have gained an eager following among older fans who were there to begin with, and younger ones who just wish they’d been. Both versions of fan were in broad attendance Friday at the Mezzanine, when the PTP crew and an impressive slew of live acts, including Joy Division peers Section 25, and the elusive, influential Raincoats, stormed the stage for the first-ever Part Time Punks mini-fest away from home.

Viv Albertine

We get there just as San Francisco-based Magic Bullets are wrapping up their set, and are treated instead to a sharp DJ set which barrels down post-punk memory lane with fierce momentum. Viv Albertine, formerly of the Slits, armed with just her guitar and a slew of Sid Vicious stories, takes the stage next. Her often-confessional lyrics about the unwelcome passage of time, orgasmic dysfunction, heroin needles, and the lonely artist’s life were no less unflinching than any Slits ode to self-destructive boys and shoplifting, though the sheer ferocity of the delivery has been taken down a notch.

Continue reading "Live Take: Part Time Punks fest, 10/9/09" »

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Posted by SFBG at 03:58 PM | Comments (0)

By Marke B.

Mr. Marcus, RIP. Photo from ebar.com

This isn't about music per se -- let's not even go there with this one -- but it IS about nightlife. Mister Marcus, who for decades tirelessly covered the international, national, local, spiritual, and intergalactic leather scenes has passed away at the age of 77. He had been hospitalized for some time for diabetes and arteriosclerosis.

Marcus wrote for the Bay Area Reporter, and I pretty much grew up on his weekly (sometimes bi-weekly) dispatches. Seriously, he knew EVERYTHING about the leather scene, documenting all the sash winners and losers, the hopefuls and string-pullers, and, yes, sassy sassy gossip. (Here's one of his recent columns, that he wrote when he was 75, that shows off his breadth of knowledge.) Being a bit cantankerous on occasion, he also didn't hesitate to cry foul or use his position to push for transparency and change on the leather circuit. At times he was controversial -- but if you know any leather queens, you know know that the freakin' color of M&M's in a refreshment bowl at a charitable reception can be controversial. I'm not saying they're fussy, but ....

.... but the community is also very loving. When I was a hardcore leather boy, Mr. Marcus -- who was always busy -- was incredibly encouraging and always took time to talk. (Another leather legend who recently passed, Daddy Alan Selby, "Mr. S" himself, took me under his wing and was an amazing mentor.) Mr. Marcus helped bind his community with his reports and nudges, and I fear its continued atomization now.

I also fear for the future of nightlife writing in this town. There are very few of us regular nightlife commentators left, even in the Blog Age -- people who get creative and critical with their takes on parties and after-hours developments, even as they can't stop dancing or performing or bringing it. Posting pictures of your nights out to Facebook doesn't count. I hope people continued to be inspired by Marcus' dedication to a scene, and begin to document and foster their own through choice words.

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Posted by SFBG at 04:16 PM | Comments (0)

Text and photos by Ariel Soto

Continuing with the constant flow of summer concerts, the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival constructed five stages in Golden Gate Park and brought three days of music for one of the most popular events of the summer. The stages, with quirky names like the Rooster and Banjo, hosted musicians whose tunes ranged from hometown bluegrass to music that could have backed a Ford truck commercial. The crowds were rather overwhelming, with huge human traffic jams of people
trying to get from one stage to the next. But despite the throngs of fans, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, soaking up the last bits of Indian summer sunshine and throwing back more than a couple bottles of beers.

Continue reading "Live Shots: Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, 10/2-10/4" »

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Posted by SFBG at 01:29 PM | Comments (0)

By Ariel Soto

"Kylie, Kylie, Kylie!" shrieked the ecstatic crowd on September 30 as Kylie Minogue, riding a gigantic gold skull, descended to the stage to start the what was the beginning of her very first US tour. From the stunning laser show to her edgy geometric costume, Kylie awed her fans with her energy and hot dance moves. The audience, which was largely dominated by beautiful boys and their beautiful boyfriends, were obvious devotees of the pop diva, and many were decked out in feathers, sequins and glitter. She must have known she would find hella love in the Bay Area and therefore honored us with the first show on her US tour. It's inspiring to see someone in her 40s be so sexy and confident on stage. You go, Kylie! Take on the US -- you'll have no problem winning over every last one of us!

Continue reading "Kylie Minogue at the Fox Theater" »

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Posted by SFBG at 02:01 PM | Comments (0)