Spoon San Francisco :: Fillmore June 19, 2005 Spoon’s last two albums, Girls Can Tell and Kill The Moonlight, found the band de-constructing indie rock, Motown soul, and lo-fi electronica - stripping their tunes apart until they reached their immediate, pure core. Continually working their role as underappreciated pop craftsmen, Spoon remained just under mainstream exposure. However, on their latest album, Gimme Fiction, Spoon seems to have moved past their love affair with deconstruction and instead have chosen to make their bid as a bona fide rock band. Their songs still feel pure and slimmed-down, but with a full-band swagger that their last two albums missed, for all their pop perfection. And at San Francisco’s Fillmore, Spoon approached their back catalog with the same muscular sense of purpose, turning eerie classics such as "Paper Tiger" into full-band rock songs, even managing to give the sneaky "Small Stakes" a Strokes-style skronk. Head honcho Britt Daniel and Co. played loosely and confidently, with workmanlike precision, running through a virtual "best of" that drew from their entire catalog, focusing on the new songs such as "I Summon You" and "Beast and Dragon, Adored." Drummer Jim Eno, especially, walked the perfect balance between sonic replication and live enthusiasm. The new songs were the real revelation, sounding heavier and more worn in than songs off a brand-new full length should, and some managed to overtake their older cousins for the best songs of the night. However, onstage, songs like "Lines In The Suit" and the still-perfect "The Way We Get By" still exude a shining sense of craftsmanship and pop mastery that show why Britt Daniel is the most underrated songwriter of his generation, and are the reason Spoon will be remembered alongside other "lost greats" such as the Velvet Underground. But during songs like the Stones-via-Yo La Tengo "I Turn My Camera On," Spoon managed to get the ladies in the audience to move their hips, all the while keeping their hordes of dark-rimmed glass-ed male fans content. In this way, Spoon see how they’ll get to the top - they’ve got the guys: now it’s time to go after the girlfriends, one set of hips at a time. Tyler McCauley ::

 

Tom Brosseau Chicago :: Schubas Tavern July 1, 2005 Tom Brosseau stood awkwardly on stage watching his soon-to-be won over crowd drink and shuffle back and forth in the tiny room. He seemed infinitely curious about what was about to happen with a crowd that was seemingly just waiting around for something to happen. With no introduction, he started playing his guitar, picking lightly and avoiding the mic curiously. The crowd, still muddling around, took notice of the music but made no attempt to look interested; that is until he started to sing. The voice that came out was powerful, pure, and authentic: a forlorn cry into darkness and faceless figures from his dimly lit platform. Almost immediately after hitting a few priceless "belts" the crowd reacted in form by leaving the bar and entering the venue. Five songs in, his stories of love and loss connected with the small crowd that had suddenly become much larger. People started responding, the applause got louder, and Tom got more and more comfortable. After telling a joke about selling his CD’s door-to-door, the Mormon looking Brosseau interacted with the crowd that ignored him earlier. His authenticity of a country boy with a Pixies sensibility increased as he dedicated his next song to his favorite band. Although he was the opener for Wovenhand (David Edwards return to music after 16 Horsepower) and only played for about thirty minutes, his set satiated my thirst for a good show. There are times when you watch an artist that is as good as Tom Brosseau that you can imagine them in a different setting, in a different time. I imagined him playing Austin City Limits for about 4,000 people, about two years from now. His music is Ryan Adams pre Heartbreaker post-Whiskeytown, Dylan pre and post Christian, and Pixies pre Come on Pilgrim all rolled in to one. This guy can write, this guy can connect, and this guy certainly can sing.. . get to know his name. You will be hearing it in the near future. JK ::

 

Of Montreal with Tilly and the Wall & the Numbers San Franciso :: Great American Music Hall June 2, 2005 (which was a Thursday) Thursday, June 2nd, was no less than a night of tap-dancing and face paint and no more than a bunch of scrawny high school kids going to ridiculous limits to dress as "indie" as possible. Three bands under three different record labels from three different areas of the country came together at the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco - The Numbers, Tilly and the Wall, and Of Montreal. The Numbers opened with a crash as the first opening band. Hailing from San Francisco and under the Oakland label Tigerbeat6, The Numbers produce noisy twee-rock with a female drummer, Indra Dunis, and two male guitarists, Eric Landmark and Dave Broekema. Indra leads the band, making it sound more like an all girl and fun punkish band. Indra's energy in drumming and attempts to make cute noises like "oooo" or (cough cough) when she sings is appreciated, but the band falls short on lyrics as she continues to sing the same lines over and over again throughout a song-in "Disease," Dunis endlessly repeats "I can get a disease, from the air I breathe." The redundancy is somewhat shadowed by their Erase Errata-ish hard guitars. Though the band gave a vigorous opening performance, their numerous cute high school indie fans were not enough to bring them into light over the gods of opening shows, Tilly and the Wall. Now, in case you did not know (though you should on account of it is dire to your existence), Tilly and the Wall sports a tap dancer instead of a drummer.. . now if you don't think that's cool, I don't know what is, because it surely overshadows much of everything else in our age of cow bells, toy xylophones, and melodicas. And if that isn't enough, tapdancer Jamie Williams is tall with black hair, and is quite the looker, in addition to the rest of the pretty people in the band. Tilly and the Wall, a Saddle-Creek band from Omaha, Nebraska, opened for fellow record-members Rilo Kiley on their 2004 tour. The songs off their sole album Wild Like Children were excellently performed back then, but now the band has more energy and zest than ever, and the same songs performed last year have a new flavor and organization that these five bandmates bring to the stage. Tilly and the Wall has a different cheer to open each show-last time they screamed, "T-I-L-L-Y we don't give a fuck! T-I-L-L-Y God damn!" and this time they did a back and forth scream with the audience screaming "We say 'Oh!' you say 'Fuck!'" The key to their success is that these two males and three females are more friends than bandmates. It is obvious through their communication on stage-main vocalists Kianna Alarid and Neely Jenkins effortlessly move their hips at the same angles at the same seconds of time and their feet stomp simultaneously, especially during a teenage-esque anthem "Reckless." You can really tell the band has fun on stage, and the feeling definitely bleeds into their fanbase, which has rightfully increased since their last tour. Tilly and the Wall gives each performance all they've got, and constantly communicates with their audience. Some of the members were wearing sparkly facepaint, a trend which spread to lead member Kevin Barnes of the main act, Of Montreal. At one instance, guitarist Derek, who plays an acoustic guitar (which adds to their intimate sound) told the audience about Of Montreal, "they wake mothers up," before dedicating "Night of the Living Dead" to them. Not only would Polyvinyl-signed Of Montreal undoubtedly "wake mothers up" but they probably woke those resting in peace, and of course, with the best of intentions. Leader Kevin Barnes, from Athens, Georgia, would never do anything to spite anyone - he is like a little child on endless energy constantly jumping up and down-his sparkly star painted on his left cheek was enough to attest to that. And although it wasn't the Oscars or anything, Barnes changed outfits three times that evening-opening with a red cape outfit complete with a cape-removal-ceremony with the aid of his keyboardist; he then changed into a green jacket and a beanie suited for any rapper of our day and age, and finished off with a women's shirt too big for his skinny boy-man body. Barnes' voice is just as ecstatic and prepubescent live as it is on record. "Oslo in the Summertime" off the quirky ensemble's most recent release The Sunlandic Twins was one of the most energetically performed of the evening. Barnes took the song off the record and turned it into a dance-y tune with jumpy rhythms as fun as Christmas lights in your hair (which the cowbell master of the band was actually wearing in her finely frizzled hair). Of Montreal performed "You Are an Airplane," one of their best songs from one of their most excellent and under-appreciated releases, The Bird Who Ate the Rabbit's Flower EP. Their encore started off with a no less than brilliant cover of 90s British band Supergrass's "Alright." Sadly, the concert had to come to an end, and with that each band member signed off individually with their respective and creative bows, as the instruments died down one by one, reminiscent of the quirky online site with the jello-y dancing blobs and musical bubbles on boobah.com/zone. The only thing short of the evening was an official marriage proposal to Kevin Barnes, but even that was attempted by his sea of screaming fans. Caroline Partamian :: [ fabulous photos of Of Monteal and Tilly may be viewed here ]

Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra with Wynton Marsalis San Franciso Symphony :: Davies Symphony Hall January 27, 2005 The men wore pink and played jazz. At least in the light of the overwhelming Davies Hall in San Francisco their shirts appeared pink. On Thursday, January 27, the Buddha of trumpeters, Wynton Marsalis, and the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra awed a sold out Davies Hall. As soon as they assumed the stage, the audience was bound in their seats to the sounds of the trumpet, which flowed into the sounds of the drums, the bass, and solidified by the tones of the piano. Wynton Marsalis made his entrance, and you could feel the enthusiasm the audience received him with. Whether they paid 30 or 150 dollars to see him, this is who they had been waiting to see. At least that was how it was for me, until ten minutes into the show, and you caught yourself mesmerized by the whole compilation. The first time I was amazed by Wynton Marsalis was when I was a seven year old girl watching a public television production of him working his magic with the god of celloists, Yo-Yo Ma, to some gorgeous tunes by Hummel and Mozart. For about two hours, I was again that seven year old girl, sitting in the upper orchestra of Davies Hall in seat DD 13. The first half of the set included pieces by jazz's greats like Mary Lou Williams's Big Jim Blues and Louis Armstrong's Mahogany Hall Stomp. In between the whirlwinds of horns we were entertained with Marsalis' humorous anecdotes. The assemblage also played "Windjammer", which Marsalis described in an appropriate manner-"It's fast, and kind of hard to play. But it's a lot of soul, going back and forth between the horns. It's an American thing." Going to formal classical performances, you usually wouldn't expect to see a similar performance to the one I saw on Thursday evening. The band was in constant communication with one another. At times a horn player gave an assuring nod to Wynton, and the piano player, during his solo in "Windjammer", threw his arms back as if he was in fright, as if it was a real battle. The first half of the concert could end in no more an entertaining way than with "Big Train", a masterpiece, to say the least. It included an entire act of members of the orchestra shouting "All aboard!" and "Ticket please!" The men on stage stomped their feet to create the effect of a train starting, and they repeated that at the conclusion of the piece to signify the train coming to a slow halt, or perhaps just going off into the distance. Throughout sections of "Big Train", the men repeatedly sang in their sonorous voices, "Goes the big train in the east, goes the big train in the west." The second half of the show consisted of John Coltrane's A Love Supreme, written by Coltrane after conquering his drug problem. Wynton Marsalis broke the piece down into four sections- acknowledgement, resolution, pursuance, which is attained in the fourth section, the song, the love supreme. It was forty-five minutes of miraculous musicianship. As for the drummer of the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra- I swear he made it sound like it was raining, pouring. As if that wasn't enough to satisfy the jazz lovers, there was an encore. One of Wynton Marsalis' friends came on stage in pajama-like wear, reportedly a friend who always played his saxophone donned in comfortable wear. The piano, two more saxophonists, Wynton Marsalis, the drums, and bass, played a swing-like tune. It is reported that one of the key characters of the Buddha is that he has sweet tasting saliva, powerful enough to improve the taste of all food. If only we could get a hold of Wynton's trumpet, could we solidify our hypothesis of him being that Buddha. Caroline Partamian ::

 

Modest Mouse / Cass McCombs Santa Cruz, CA :: The Catalyst February 1, 2005 In Santa Cruz there are but few venues left that can accommodate the capacity needed for high interest bands. The Catalyst ends up being the mecca for the non-local music scene. The rear room has a six hundred person capacity, and an odd coffin like shape; not the most intimate setting, yet well adapted. The high stage and the lounge seating corralled the capacity crowd on Tuesday, February first's show featuring: Cass McCombs and Modest Mouse; their second show in Santa Cruz, and the only sixteen-and-over concert. After an obligatory sound check and setup period, a revelation from the freeway scarred land of Southern California took the stage. Los Angeles' Cass McCombs blends emotional [post] punk, thoroughly dance-worthy, with a melodic swing and smooth breathed choruses. These Elements should have sparked, at least, a flood of body swaying in the capacity crowd, however, try as the band might, the sixteen-and-over crowd either was too closely packed to allow dancing, or they were deaf. The band's mixture of echo prone drums and ethereal organs were enticing, and Cass McCombs' voice deftly shifted between a moody drawl and a full croon. Look out for Cass McCombs' Monitor Records release Prefection, and while you are at it, peruse All Night Radio; a band that is a project of Jimi Hey, guitarist for Cass McCombs. The stage cleared after Cass McCombs' forty some-odd-minute swing of insistent and finely distorted choruses. The crowd, staring blankly, like fish being clubbed on the pier, looked confused and anxious. The sentiment persisted for most of the twenty minute interlude. The lights on exit strength, while Dan Gallucci, guitarist and digital sound producer (Formerly of the Murder City Devils and currently working on a project with Derek Fudescom, the bassist of Pretty Girls Make Graves. They together form A Gun Called Tension, and will enjoy their first release, A Gun Called Tension, on February 22nd on Crush Records.) along with Eric Judy, bassist, plucked, plugged in and tuned-up. The lights finally drew down till the omnipresent red stage lights fell upon Modest Mouse's six members. There, the format for generating their diverse and eclectic sound became evident. The band's live configuration involves two percussionists, Jeremiah Greene and Benjamin Weikel; each possessing a full or nearly full set of drums. In front of the space usurping drum kits were a myriad of guitars, a pump organ, an organ, a bass violin, a violin, a banjo and one computer. When in place the band turned toward the crowd, and the crush of bodies rose to a fever, full of shouts, yells and anticipation. Then they held themselves hushed; a collective gasp. The sharp smell of marijuana coincided with the stage filling plumes of grey smoke. The fish on the pier morphed themselves into a sea of smiling faces as the first guitar chords of "Bury Me With It" were picked from Dan and Isaac Brock's guitars. The high energy strains and emphatic lyrics induced the crowd to sway a bit, and hopefully would shock the masses out of their lethargic stupor. The sharply rising builds from the breaks in ³Bury Me With It² exposed the benefits of utilizing a dual drummer setup. This allowed an intensely driving series of rushes and crescendos throughout the night. The crowd and Modest Mouse regarded each other in an odd oppositional stance. This was possibly a symptom of the crowd waiting for "Float On," and Modest Mouse picking up on it. The clique had only to wait through two songs before their spirits were rallied with "Float On". During the song, the whole band took a relaxed hue, as sweat started to develop on their foreheads. By the end of the introductory measures, the rabble was dancing, yelling and generally in a ecstatic mood. Perspiration generated and with the obligatory single out of the way, the relaxation and comfort on stage was palpable. After "Float On", the crowd was delighted, and the band rode that elation through a break, where Isaac exchanged his guitar for a banjo. Affixed to his new instrument, he plucked out the initial notes of "Satin a Coffin." The energy displayed in Isaac's playing, and Greene & Weikel's percussive movements, worked Modest Mouse into a discernible frenzy; the crowd returned to the dead fish look. Those fine ladies and gentlemen, which composed the horde had paid, righteously, for the pleasures of live music, and most exhibited a grave expression or were awestruck; let us hope for the latter. There were, of course, exceptions: three teen-aged girls, front and center, pressed their bodies furtively forward, screaming each syllable with heart felt fervor; kudos. For the most part, this horde showed itself to be either overwhelmed or just unable to experience a concert; too much or not enough ADHD medication? The swinging banjo chords of "Bukowski" rung out as an earnest bow on the bass violin produced some of the most interesting movements of the evening. The mob, a batch of schizophrenics, somehow, became the unselfconscious fans of "Float On". Once again, the dual drum kits allowed the creation of a divergent and brimming series of percussive expanses. With a drop back to the guitar, Isaac, Dan, Green and Weikel played a minimalist version of "Dramamine". The song is a thrusting series of lonesome progressions; thoroughly enjoyable. With ever-changing lineup and instrument configurations the band played through solid and beautiful versions of "The View" and "Poster the Walls". After a moving rendition of "Black Cadillacs", the band started in on "Cowboy Dan". The long format of this song allowed a series musical expressions that felt like a montage. Nonchalantly, as the song ended, Isaac's speaking voice mumbled a "Thank you, good night." The crowd was shocked and rushed into a clapping frenzy. The lights stayed down and the encore was on. The second song of the awaited encore was "The Good Times Are Killing Me", which was excellent.The encore produced some of the most emotionally wrought singing from Isaac Brock, as he set himself behind the keys of the organ. The song sounds great on their latest album, Good News, For People Who Love Bad News, and it shined under the lights of the stage. This, the closing song, was the highlight of the entire evening; the entire house was clamouring for more. The band give it their all, wanting to make up for the monday night (Jan.31st) monitor failure, but the crowd was just not up to par with the intentions and energy of Modest Mouse. With the exciting mixture of genres, from bluegrass to pure rock'n'roll, instrument changes and their cathartic lyrics, Modest Mouse puts on a cavalcade of explosive sounds, which made for a throroughly enjoyable show. Definitely, the best show thus far at the Catalyst this year. Steve Duhamell-Martinez ::

 

Neko Case / The Sadies Starr Hill Music Hall :: Charlottesville, VA February 17, 2005 mec23: nut cheerio the honey birds: yes - I saw Neko Case last night... . birds: that woman is badass! She represents the forests! mec23: at a performance, or just out and about? birds: ALIVE! mec23: word birds: with the Sadies! mec23: seems like she was here not too long ago birds: it was like we were all in a little music box from 1952 - WESTERN WAY! Neko was giving love a bad name, played plenty of jams about being "bitchy" and "heartbroken". Neko is, yes Eliza, my SHERO! Whatever "it" is, she has plenty of her own and a few other folks' too! wiredbirds ::