The Giants World Series sweep, Halloween endless, worrying about our East Coast brethren. It feels like everyone has ADD right about now, our Twitter feeds overfloweth, and we're all being stretched in a million different directions. The world may indeed be coming to an end. But AU and Zammuto are coming to SF, as are Woodkid, Dark Dark Dark, and R. Kelly's bedroom ballads. Already on our soil we have the SF Symphony's Dia de los Muertos concert, Halloween tricks at Thee Parkside, and even more Nobunny. Read more »
For me, things usually go better when the unexpected happens, like this past weekend when my half-assed plans to attend Saturday’s installment of Neil Young’s Bridge School Benefit Concert fell through. Instead of seeing Axl, as he reportedly flubbed the lyrics to “Welcome to the Jungle,” I stayed local to witness part of a San Francisco tradition and later, one of the more sensory provoking and delightfully weirdo art performances I’ve seen in a while. This surprise night out-on-the town turned out to be a success. Read more »
Arriving early to the Crystal Castles show Monday at the Fox Theater, discovering that one opener, HEALTH, had canceled its performance, and that the photo pit would be off limits for the other, Kontravoid, I was left with some unexpected time on my hands. Time that I spent trying to recall where I had seen the eerily familiar image hung over the stage, of a veiled figure cradling a fragile, vulnerable looking man in their arms.
Presented without context, it could be potentially tenderly romantic or gothically morbid, an ambiguity which seemed to typically invite the sort of let-me-Google-that mystery that recent bands have found so chic.*Read more »
After spending an afternoon with Bay Area punk band Elegy, I learned that the band will not only rock your socks off, they can also style your hair, give you legal advice, and probably knit you a pair of socks. That's pretty punk rock.
The beauty of Halloween occurring on a Wednesday (next week, of course) is that you basically get a full week of fiendish, costumed, creepy-crawly shows, many of which take place the weekend before, then continue on out through the week days...of horror.
Trust me, you'll be getting a thick list packed with the bulk of those shows in the paper this coming issue. But for Heads Up, I pulled out a few must-sees, including shows without the ghoulish holiday affiliation, but that are still worthy of your eyes and ears: Seattle's Crypts, LA's Flying Lotus, Portland's Red Fang, Brooklyn artist SSION, Jascha singing Caetano Veloso, and more. Read more »
MUSIC Can the declining sales from physical albums ever be replaced by digital music apps and services? Can an independent artist make a decent living from services such as Pandora radio, BAMM.TV, or SoundCloud? Will the starving musician finally get a good meal?Read more »
MUSIC There's no better time for local composer Jake Heggie's 2010 opera Moby-Dick to wash up on our shores, especially in terms of men's fashion. Seriously — peacoats galore, henleys-and-suspenders perfection, button-up trousers, glorious galoshes, and perfectly nor'easter-tousled haircuts, not to mention a stubbly wealth of seafarin' beards. The whole cast, outfitted by ace costume designer Jane Greenwood, might have dropped onto the stage from this fall's All Saints Spitalfields lookbook. Read more »
David Byrne opened his show with St. Vincent on Monday night by thanking the Orpheum for breaking its run of The Lion King for their performance. The David Byrne-St. Vincent show wasn't too far off from the theater’s regular selection though. The eight piece brass band doing choreographed marching behind the duo had a theatrical effect, feeling somewhere between a Stop Making Sense-themed halftime show and an instrument-bearing ensemble in West Side Story.
The 60-year-old musical giant and 30-year-old indie star brought out a diverse crowd. Byrne was carrying on the legacy of art-school punk-turned-pop band, the Talking Heads, but some in the crowd seemed to be wondering “who is this pretty young talent helping espouse his eccentric philosophies?” The scalpers outside were only selling Byrne’s name on the tickets and there was an overabundant amount of “we love you David” cries from the audience.
TOFU AND WHISKEY Sitting on a pilled blanket out in Golden Gate Park, watching Australia's folk-noise instrumental outfit Dirty Three tear shit up on violin, petting my SPCA-adopted chug and sipping my homemade beer, I thought, "this is magic." And then, "I'm pretty drunk." And finally, out loud, "I'm a cliché right now."Read more »
Music nerds talk lineups the way sports fans manage fantasy teams, particularly with festivals, where suddenly strategy becomes a part of catching a show. Treasure Island Music Festival, is sort of an exception, since in theory you can catch every single act, given the two alternating stages. At the same time, this means that unless you head to the silent disco or take a nap, one of those geeks will be standing behind you during a set, obsessively talking about how the lineup should be slotted differently. Read more »