Jen Snyder

Legs that just won't quit

Athens, Georgia's Long Legged Woman hits its stride
|
(0)

Long Legged Woman seemed to come out of left field when it performed at the Eagle Tavern a few months back. The group had the feel of a touring band: freakish energy, precision, and a name I hadn't heard before. And the self-proclaimed 'Tardcore trio turned out to be a terrifically raucous opening act for some of San Francisco's most favored indie bands.

As drummer Justin Flowers informed me months later, Long Legged Woman may be new to SF, but its members certainly aren't new to the game. Read more »

Superfriends

There is power in the Fresh and Onlys' union
|
(0)

Sometimes bands come together in the same way chords are formed: distinct sounds marry and create something bigger and brighter than themselves. I sat down at a bar with a few members of the Fresh and Onlys and left feeling like they were band wizards. Headed by Tim Cohen of the late Black Fiction, the Bay Area outfit is fleshed out by Shayde Sartain, Wymond Miles, James Kim, Grace Cooper, and Heidi Alexander. Although all have played in other groups, they made it click in the unlikely company of close friends. Read more »

Lose yourself

Ty Segall does punk, and an array of other pet sounds, right
|
(0)

Every big city hosts its fair share of great bands that attract crowds with centrifugal force. While other performers flyer mercilessly only to play to the opening act and bartenders, some draw a crowd only money can buy. But money seems to have little to do with it — some acts are just really fucking good.

I sat down with Ty Segall in the Lower Haight last month to find out what he was putting in the water. "If I put out a hundred records in my life, I'll die happy," Segall said after a good, hearty spiel praising Billy Childish.

Segall sets the scene physically. Read more »

"Not tough"

The Tea Elles toast the new breed of punky, surfy rock 'n' roll
|
(0)

It wasn't long ago that I stood in a small gallery, getting the same feelings I have on the F train in August: I'm going to get stampeded or dehydrate, and no one will notice. But since the Tea Elles had come highly recommended and was the only band playing, I stuck it out — along with a pack of sweaty citizens who, despite the B.O.-heavy sauna atmosphere, didn't budge from the front of the room.

Months later in SoMa, I'm sitting in an airy kitchen with three of the four Tea Elles. Read more »