Starmaster's Guide...

writing archive

2011-05-20T21:01:00.001-08:00

Howdy all. I just did some major archiving here of all of the music writing I've done over the last few years. I'd like to ensure that it sticks around/is collected in one place. So bear with me as there will be lots of posts cropping up in your rss feeds -- mark all as read to your heart's content.

Cool? Cool.

Review: Thile & Daves - Sleep with One Eye Open

2011-05-20T20:57:00.002-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - May 12, 2011

grass|roots ep. 9

When I first started writing the grass|roots column last year, it was with the admission of my limited knowledge in the "genre" and that part of my interest in writing about the genre is the way that one great discovery leads to the next. Though I have learned a lot since then about the tradition (I’ve even begun research for a dissertation that focuses on the rhetoric of traditional American music), this principle remains true. Case in point: A few nights ago, I saw Tony Rice Unit perform. I went, of course, for the opportunity to hear the legendary Mr. Rice play – which was amazing – but I left having witnessed the genius of Rob Ickes’s dobro playing and the charm of Josh Williams who's know for both his work on both guitar and mandolin. Now I have two new artists to get acquainted with.

Chris Thile’s collaboration with Michael Daves on the pair’s new record Sleep with One Eye Open offers the same opportunity. I’m a long-time fan of Thile’s (as you likely know), but Daves is a newcomer both to me and to the bluegrass community at-large. But this is Daves record – it’s his high-and-lonesome voice that props this thing up. Thile is Thile which is to say, he’s fantastic both vocally and mando-ly, but his ego seems checked on Sleep. He gives us plenty of room to get to know Daves a move that seems almost gallant considering the hubris of what it must mean to be Chris Thile. Bravo, Chris.

The record, a collection of bluegrass standards the likes of “20/20 Vision” and “Cry, Cry Darling,” is both a serious and playful update on what Mando Lines over at No Depression calls “your grandfather’s bluegrass” (great review, by the way, Lines). This sums up Sleep, quite well, really. It does its best to be both old and new. We get the old alongside a succinct lesson in traditional music and in Daves high tenor. The new sneaks its way through in the progressive take on the instrumentation that Thile and Daves so deftly employ.

All in all, this is a great record to start your summer with. It has Dukes-of-Hazard dirt-road chasers to get your blood going (“My Little Girl in Tennessee”) as well as lemonade-sipping instrumentals to enjoy as you porch sit and watch the sunset (“Ookpik Waltz”). Sleep with One Eye Open is out this week from Nonesuch and, because these dudes mean business, was recorded to tape in Jack White's Third Man Studios in Nashville.

Video/Photos: Strand of Oaks & Joe Pug - Urbana, IL

2011-05-20T20:56:00.001-08:00

Wednesday night at Urbana's Canopy Club, Timothy Showalter of Strand of Oaks warmed the crowd for Joe Pug as part of the pair's epic 44-date tour. Though his face was shadowed under the brim of his snug Lionshead cap, his voice and subtle humor charmed. Check out his performance of "Alex Kona" above from the amazing Pope Killdragon.

I snapped some photos of both performers as well. If you're lucky you'll see them tonight at the sold out Chicago show at Lincoln Hall. They'll aslo be at the High Noon Saloon in Madison on May 1st.

Review: Fleet Foxes - Helplessness Blues

2011-05-20T20:55:00.001-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - April 28, 2011

Cosmic Tones for Mental Therapy

On the self-titled debut by the Fleet Foxes, the band captured wide attention by releasing, arguably, the most well-crafted, vocal harmony-based folk-rock record we've heard since the heyday of Crosby, Stills & Nash. Those harmonies, led by the combination of Robin Pecknold’s striking voice and intensely catchy and singable melodies on songs like “White Winter Hymnal,” “Ragged Wood,” and (one of my favorite songs of the last decade) “Blue Ridge Mountains,” secured the band’s spot on the top of critics’ favorite lists, on sold-out tours, and as the headliners at a number of festivals all between its release in early 2008 and late 2009 when they finally packed things in. Two short years and the band went from relative obscurity to becoming one of the biggest acts in indie rock.

I saw the Fleet Foxes at the Newport Folk Festival at the end of summer '09 and was impressed by how well, even in that large, outdoor setting, they recreated the sound and aesthetic of the record. And so, for the last several years I’ve been waiting with trepidation – hoping that the band can do it again. That expectation, as I’ve written before, is probably not fair, but it’s what we do with our darlings – we hold out hope that the years haven’t changed us and that our reunion will be as sweet in spite of the now-fading memories of time spent together. Nevertheless, with a record and love like Fleet Foxes, it’s difficult not to hold the band to a high standard. Admittedly however, reports of delays due to illness, nit-picking perfecting, and at least one back-to-the-drawing-board report caused those expectations to deflate, if just a little.

It’s tough, then, to describe my reaction to Helplessness Blues (out May 3rd on Sub Pop) without sounding heart-struck. The new record is being released at the best possible moment. I started listening to it a few weeks ago just as winter was releasing its unrelenting grip on central Illinois, so the warmth of Helplessness Blues seemed to be responsible for the budding trees and singing birds rather than the rotation of the earth. As summer comes, and judging from the reactions I’m starting to see from folks listening to early streams, others are likely to have the same dissociative experience. The Fleet Foxes will bring sunshine to the masses this year.

The opening track, “Montezuma,” is the perfect example of this. In some sort of animated alternate reality, the song would burst from the clouds as a sunrise, gently casting its rays into cold corners and waking up yawning wildlife. Man, that’s corny, but that may be the secret to this record: It is a musical act of shameless sincerity. When some artists make the attempt, sincerity comes off as disingenuous and cheesy -- like a peck on the cheek of your mother-in-law. But Helplessness Blues is art without irony, which, given the saturated irony market, is an achievement in and of itself.

It just grows from there. Nearly every song is wonderful and positive, but I especially like the second track, “Bedouin Dress,” which shifts from that sunrise into an up-tempo midmorning jaunt toward optimism. “Sim Sala Bim,” which follows, has such a lovely lyric/melody pairing:

He was so kind, such a gentleman, tied to the oceanside
Lighting a match on the suitcase's latch in the fading of night
Ruffled the fur of the collie ‘neath the table
Ran out the door through the dark
Carved out his initials in the bark

Pastoral? To be sure. Try listening more than twice without joining in (and considering the purchase of a collie).

The record’s centerpiece, touchstone, and namesake is “Helplessness Blues.” In addition to being musically anthemic, its message is fascinating. The song argues for a revision of American Dream thinking -- one that deemphasizes the mythic American Individual in favor of useful anonymity. The functioning cog and sore orchard farmer metaphors hint toward a new collective good, “something beyond me,” that still emphasizes hard work and toil, but with different results that mere individual prosperity. Indeed, that song may be a socialist masterpiece.

As you can tell, I could go on, but I’ll just mention a few more details to be listening for: I love the flute on “The Plains / Bitter Dancer” – it’s straight off of an old Nick Drake record (see "The Thoughts of Mary Jane"). “The Shrine /An Argument” is an exercise in contrast: The vocal power of Pecknold’s line “Sunlight over me, no matter what I do” gets me every time and I find the weird horn counterpoint thing at the end (which you’re sure to hear about) utterly cool. There are glimmers of Simon and Garfunkel's Bookends all over this record. Finally, and as a 30-something getting used to the paradoxes of activist ambitions/intensions matched against the temptation of ever-encroaching easy ambivalence, “Someone You’d Admire” seems to speak directly to me as does the hopeful message of “Grown Ocean.” Indeed, among other successes Helplessness Blues has a keen sense of audience.

One fascinating residual effect of the new album’s affect is the shadow that it casts over the debut. Helplessness Blues is so strong from beginning to end, that the first album, despite its undisputed goodness and success, feels like a "Baroque pop" relic. Many of the old songs sound now like mere exercises or warm-ups for the real thing which we now, happily, possess.

Review: Arcade Fire - UIC Pavilion, Chicago

2011-05-20T20:53:00.001-08:00

By Jon Stone |@jwstone - April 27, 2011

My relationship with Arcade Fire has, for years, been a conflicted one: The hype. The swagger. The spectacle. The brilliance. All of it has fascinated, confused, and at times chaffed at my music sensibilities. Perhaps it is because if Funeral had come out in 1994 instead of 2004, it would have been precisely the kind of record I would have been hopeless for: room plastered with posters, hand-drawn reproductions of the current "Arcade Fire" font on my notebooks, matching Win Butler haircut. In 2004, though, I was reevaluating my obsessions with bands and artists -- like Win, my older heart had grown colder. So, instead of adulation I hung back, like a cynical, aging, hipster-in-denial. "Mtv, what have you done to me?"

Truth be told, Arcade Fire kind of frighten me. Like many, I find their menacing steampunk appearance and the stark cultural critique on all three records eerily prophetic and often bitingly so. But the critic in me is tempted to downplay prescience and focus instead on posturing. Confidence, especially in a large, mulit-membered band, usually plays publicly as hubris. It's been hard not to see Arcade Fire through that lens.

My perspective, though, is shifting. Since The Suburbs was released last year I've been watching and listening more closely to the band. Somewhere between Win and Will's goofy but upbeat interview on NPR last May when "Month of May" and "The Suburbs" were premiered, Richard Reed Perry's smiley appearance on stage with the National at the pre-Lolla show at the House of Blues, and, most of all, the band's devotion to Haiti through organizations like Kanpe and Partners in Health, I've become convinced that they aren't obsessively self-centered. They may even possess humility, which among arena rock stars, is a rare and precious gem. Humble confidence, it turns out, may be the perfect paradox for summing up a band like Arcade Fire.

Last night, Arcade Fire closed out their three-day residency at the UIC Pavilion in Chicago. The National opened the show with a short but intense set (see set list below). And while anyone who is a fan of The National would agree that we'd rather see them with the freedom of the headliner, they were gracious. They kept what could have been a show-stealing performance within respectful bounds. In other words, Matt (sadly) didn't come unglued. Both Richie and Win joined them on stage during their set, the latter for some lovely harmonies on "Start a War."

Without expecting it, Arcade Fire came out and blew me away. It's that simple. Maybe it was the fact that I spent the first three songs of the show in the photo pit two feet away and snapping as many pictures as I could. Those first three songs, "Ready to Start," "Keep the Car Running," and "Haiti" will be seared in my memory. It was one of the most thrilling moments of my concert-going career. Post photo-pit, I had to move out to my more conservative (but still great) seat in the bleachers where I enjoyed the rest of the show. I quite like that perspective. Watching the crowd go all dance-party when "Wake Up" shifts from anthem into "You-can't-hurry-love" sock hop was a priceless thing to witness.

I'm also finding that it's the moments -- the details -- that make a live performance: The white pants and unrelenting energy of Will Butler; the extended phone-off-the-hook piano intro on "We Used to Wait"; the moment when I looked around fruitlessly for the horn section during "No Cars Go" only to realize it was Régine Chassagne's accordion(!). They closed the main set with Funeral's "Rebellion (Lies)" and my favorite moment of the night, perhaps, was when, after the band left the stage, the crowd continued to sing the little violin melody that closes that song. The stage was dark, the band absent, but the audience was unified by a single stirring little melody. Loved it.

The whole show, really, was one of the best in recent memory.

Additional hi-res photos from the show can be found here.

I've been looking at the set lists from all three nights, and while the order shifted around a bit, there were only small deviations. Monday we got "Empty Room" and "Suburban War", Sunday's set included "City With No Children" and "My Body is a Cage" (two of my favorites. darn!), and on Friday they played "Sprawl I (Flatland)", which, I believe, was its live debut.

Arcade Fire's setlist: Ready to Start / Keep the Car Running / Haïti / Rococo / Empty Room / Suburban War / The Suburbs / The Suburbs (Continued) / Month of May / Neighborhood #2 (Laika) / No Cars Go / Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels) / We Used to Wait / Neighborhood #3 (Power Out) / Rebellion (Lies) Encore: Intervention / Wake Up / Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)

The National's setlist: Anyone's Ghost / Secret Meeting / Bloodbuzz Ohio / Slow Show / Squalor Victoria / Afraid Of Everyone / Conversation 16 / Apartment Story / Driver, Surprise Me / Fake Empire / Start A War / Mr. November/ Terrible Love

Review: Daniel Martin Moore - In the Cool of the Day

2011-05-20T20:51:00.001-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - April 24, 2011

grass|roots ep. 8

I've been writing this review for the last three weeks. Or at least I've been thinking about writing it. It's taken me some time. And while it isn't that Daniel Martin Moore's In the Cool of the Day is earth shattering or game-changing, it is, for me at least, a very important record. In the Cool of the Day, put out by a relatively new artist on a big indie label, is a decidedly religious album. Even though My Morning Morning Jacket's Jim James (the record's producer and contributor) glosses and universalizes the specifics of its unmistakable Christian message (see below), Moore is unapologetic in his mission: curate, update, and re-imagine favorite gospel and "spiritual" standards (and write a few new ones as well).

Here's the blurb from James in the record's press release:

It’s a spiritual record that may have come from growing up in one particular tradition, but is built to speak to the heart of any soul, from any tradition or walk of life, to say that God, while sometimes called by one particular name, is anywhere and everywhere one could ever want “God” to be, present always in the love we give to and receive from those around us.

I find it refreshing that Sub Pop and Jim James understand that endorsing a religious record for its artistic and even spiritual merit does not undermine their credibility. As part of a largely secular audience that buy records from Sub Pop and other indie labels, I also understand their desire to couch the release of such a record in terms that make it accessible to a wide potential audience. They make it clear that In the Cool of the Day is a record that can be enjoyed by believers and non-believers alike as far as the notions of God and Jesus can be understood as metaphors for love, service, and overcoming selfishness. I'm OK with that.

That diplomatic gloss, however, is telling of a moment when tension between the faithful and those who have thoughtfully put faith aside has reached new highs even while secular humanists and Christians (and other religious folks) seem to have much in common (arguments of science and politics usually but not necessarily aside). And while the issues that separate and vex them are often important, a little understanding would go a long way.

Maybe that's what I like so much about Daniel Martin Moore's record. It is a rational declaration of faith. One that, because of its context and company with other Sub Pop releases as well as Moore's activist ethos coming off the Dear Companion project (with Ben Sollee), manages to celebrate the traditional even while it implicitly calls for greater human empathy and progressive, ethical tolerance.

All that said, In the Cool of the Day is a truly lovely record with a Sunday-afternoon sweetness. While the entire record could be described as hymnic, those hymns bounce around between utter solemnity and jazzy, celebratory swing. The album begins with several songs in the latter category including "In the Garden" and "Up Above My Head", both of which remind me of songs folks might want to clap their hands to after a rousing sermon. But it's the solemn songs on the second half that resonate and demand a searching of the soul. "Softly and Tenderly" is an almost whispered plea for spiritual reconciliation: "Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling... calling, 'Oh children, come home!'" "Cool of the Day, "It is Well With My Soul," and "Set Things Aright" all touch on the classic Christian themes of repentance, peace in spite of suffering, and victory over death -- all with soft and smart accompaniment: sometimes just Moore and a piano, but often embellished with fiddle, banjo, and bass.

So, with hopes of acknowledging (and counting myself among) Christians still interested in Jesus' advocacy for compassion, tolerance, equality, and peace, I can't think of a more appropriate record than In the Cool of the Day for Easter.

Hope yours was wonderful.

-Jon

Review: Megafaun - 9:30 Club, Washington D.C.

2011-05-20T20:49:00.001-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - March 28, 2011

I just returned from an epic journey out to the Capitol – my first ever visit to those Eastern States. For a middle-class west-coast guy, exploring the east feels not unlike getting to visit the places that only ever existed in books and movies: Metropolis, Coruscant, The Emerald City. With its rich history, its monuments, museums, and memorials, Washington D.C. especially has this flavor for me. So too, then, does the 9:30 Club, that venue that has been emblazoned upon my mind as the legendary site of so many stellar NPR podcasted shows. Surely these places don’t actually exist.

But they do. I’ve now been there. What’s more, I had the chance to see Megafaun – probably my favorite band right now – on Friday night in that city at that spot. Filling the warm-up slot for the Mountain Goats, the trio played a short set to a sold-out Mountain Goats crowd and rarely have I seen such gracious openers. They came out with beards, banjo, and black Gayngs sweatshirt blazing, and pushed through what seemed to be initial sound issues (faulty guitar connection, touchy vocal mic levels) and into a solid 45 minutes of great songs spanning their five-year, three-release career.

More and more, I find myself drawn to bands like Megafaun -- likely due to my ever-increasing proclivity for acoustic instruments and music. I’m fascinated by the ways that a small group of modern musicians are utilizing old-time traditions in thoughtful and progressive ways. This isn’t just a casual mining for old-time gems easily appropriated for a barn stomp – there are only a few bands that do that well (Old Crow comes to mind). Instead, artists like Megafaun’s Brad and Phil Cook and Joe Westerlund seem more interested in the chemistry and molecular structure of the old-time tradition. Their songs aren’t so much appropriations as they are alchemic deconstructions and re-assemblages of string-band traditions and sounds (see “Darkest Hour” from Gather, Form, & Fly [2009] or the twelve-and-a-half minute tone poem/song “Comprovisation for Connor Pass” on the mini-album Heretofore [2010]). And while an opening slot may not be the best place to experiment sonically like Megafaun does so masterfully on their records, there were glimpses of that genius at Friday night’s show.

They played several of my more-straightforward favorites on Friday including “The Fade,” “Carolina Days” and “Kaufman’s Ballad.” We also were treated to a ‘round-the-mic version of “Worried Mind.” They encouraged and succeeded in getting the audience to sing back-up harmonies on the latter. We were also treated to the Westerland-led spiritual “His Robe” and “Lazy Suicide,” both from their debut Bury the Square (2008) – a song Phil said had been played so many different ways, he'd lost count.

Though the 9:30 Club didn’t blow me away in their treatment of Megafaun’s unique amplification needs (Mountain Goats sounded much more balanced), their set was over too quickly and I’m left pining after my next opportunity to see them and with a renewed desire to practice my clawhammer banjo.

I left the show with both Gather, Form & Fly and Heretofore on vinyl. You should do yourself a favor and check them out as well.

Bright Eyes + Mynabirds - Foellinger Auditorium, Urbana

2011-05-20T20:46:00.001-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - March 19, 2011

Bright Eyes, like a post-postmodern Mary Poppins, has promised to stay a little longer – but only until the wind changes: one last album, one final tour. And judging from the show Wednesday evening at Foellinger Auditorium on the University of Illinois campus, they intend to make a memorable exit – not unlike floating away on an umbrella. My engagement with Bright Eyes over the years has been one of passive admiring rather than full fledged fan-hood so the pangs of departing sorrow aren’t very strong for me. Nevertheless, the Bright Eyes persona of the very talented Conor Oberst will be missed if only for its place alongside other moment-defining/now-deceased bands – the closest analog being Jack White and the White Stripes. We can be comforted, I suppose, by the assurance that the artists behind these bands are putting to bed their projects in hopes of ensuring the continuance of a strong, coherent body of work rather than dragging them raw along the asphalt mile after mile and year after year. For both Oberst and White, one avenue in which we can look forward to the continuance of their work as curators and label-heads.

Case in point: The Mynabirds, who are signed to Oberst’s label Saddle Creek and released one of my favorite records last year, are a great example of that continuance. Drawing from the rich tradition of 60s rhythm and blues, the Mynabirds are revivalists in the best senses of that word. Laura Burhenn, lead singer and songwriter of the group has crafted a group of songs for the band’s debut What We Lose in the Fire We Gain in the Flood that feel both old and new – a wrangler of Dusty Springfield’s legacy in a similar vein as Fiona Apple (and I have no problem with that). It bodes well for Obest’s post-Bright Eyes career that I was more excited about the band on his label than I was about his.

The Mynabirds opened the show with a delightful set that didn’t deviate far from the record – an observation that is both praise and my only real critique of their set. As I mention, I love the record and a weak live representation of the songs is something that could have easily slowed momentum for the band. No worries there, though. Burhenn and her five bandmates showed their merit on the piano/keyboards-based songs with cello and brass embellishments as well as lovely two and three-part harmonies. Standouts included the soulful "What We Gained in the Fire" and "The Numbers Don't Lie." On the other hand, the performance felt safe – I didn’t notice any new songs in the set and very little artistic deviation or embellishment. I would have liked more. And I guess, technically, I got it. When Oberst and band took stage, Burhenn was with them – in a different dress, but with same great voice lending her harmonies to the majority of the Bright Eyes set.

Much has been written about Oberst as Bright Eyes – about the course of his career, the huge expectations that followed his initial entry into the music scene at the beginning of the last decade and the various ways that Oberst has met or not met those expectations over the years. A record like this year’s The People’s Key and a show like the one Wednesday night is evidence that despite public expectations, that career has been highly successful. Bright Eyes, the Bob-Dylan-meets-Bobcat-Golthwait folk singer that teenagers fell in love with in the early aughts was just barely represented in Wednesday's performance. Some might use that as a point of criticism against the highly-produced, light-show performance we see on this tour, but I see it as a kind of natural evolution vis-à-vis bands who have held similar adolescent-agony mope spaces and then struggled (and succeeded) to push their way into new iterations (The Cure, for example, for whom Bright Eyes share more than just this one similarity).

Taken as a rock band, a genre space that Bright Eyes has moved in and out of over the years, the group of musicians who played Wednesday were excellent. I'm a big fan of Mike Mogis who plays guitar and pedal steel in the band, and the others, a crew that included (in addition to Mogis and Burhenn) two drummers, a multi-instrumentalist (Nate Walcott), and bassist, pushed the songs from the new record as well as a smattering of old tunes into new and interesting sonic spaces. I really like The People’s Key (minus the obnoxious quasi-spiritualist voice-over stuff) and, for me, those songs were the stand outs. Tunes like "Shell Games" and "Jejune Stars" got a sonic boost in the live environment. The band also played "Bowl of Oranges," which, according to my more bonified BE fan/companion was a big deal. My favorite moment of the night was a duet performance of "Lua" from 2005's I'm Wide Awake it's Morning. Walcott accompanied Oberst with beautiful trumpet embellishments giving the song a depth not present on the record. It was perhaps the only time during the twenty-four song set that there was a real emotional connection between Oberst and the audience. For a guy who's made a career out of heart-on-his-sleeve emotion, emotional detachment from an unflinchingly devoted audience might be one more good reason to move on to the next thing.

Setlist: Firewall / Take It Easy (Love Nothing) / Haile Selassie / Four Winds / Bowl of Oranges / No One Would Riot For Less / Trees Get Wheeled Away / Shell Games / Approximate Sunlight / Arc of Tim / Triple Spiral / Nothing Gets Crossed Out / Something Vague / Hot Knives / Beginner's Mind / Cartoon Blues / Jejune Stars / Poison Oak / The Calendar Hung Itself / Lua

Encore: Gold Mine Gutted / Lover I Don’t Have to Love / Road to Joy / One for You. One for Me.

Review: Middle Brother - The Metro (Chicago)

2011-05-20T20:44:00.001-08:00

by Jon Stone | @jwstone -- photo: Kyle Matteson | @solace - March 17, 2011

It’s hard to think of the Middle Brother show in Chicago last Saturday night as just a “show.” It was more than a show. It was a spectacle, a barn-burner -- an extravaganza. This is not hyperbole, folks. The Metro hosted an honest-to-goodness, four-hour Concert Spectacular. The three bands, Deer Tick, Dawes, and Middle Brother, also seem like mere place-holders on a bill that instead featured an explosion of musical collaboration far exceeding the boundaries of what we imagine the word “band” to entail. Rarely was a band on stage without an extra member here or a special cover there. The show was, in a word, epic. Oh, and two more words: Jonny Corndawg.

Rather than diminishing the evening with lack-luster play-by-play, let me instead offer a more-or-less chronological highlights reel:

Forget the “folk-rock” label, Deer Tick is a heavy, if extremely versatile, band. Their set was LOUD… and then soft. Apply this same genre-busting observation to all three bands and their sets. Each move from folk to soul to country and back to rock, and in the case of Deer Tick, far into heavy territory.
After hearing about Deer Tick’s upcoming SXSW Nirvana set, it was hard not to see McCauley as a kind of re-embodiment of Kurt. His hair – his voice – his Fender Jag. If you're in Austin on Saturday, don't miss that. Report back, please.
Along those lines, Matt Vasquez joined Deer Tick mid-set and played a perfect cover of In Utero’s “Scentless Apprentice.”
They also covered Springsteen’s “Racing in the Streets,” Vasquez at the helm.
Deer Tick has a secret weapon in keyboard/sax man Rob Crowell. The dude can wail.
Dawes is clearly the next big thing. This is a palpable reality now instead of just a likely prediction. They killed with songs off both North Hills and new songs off of a yet-unnamed forthcoming record.
Near the end of their set, Dawes introduced Jonny Corndawg who proceeded to dance (or, more aptly, boot-scoot) his way into the pockets of the whole crowd. You kind of have to see this guy to believe him. As my buddy said, “Corndawg brought the heart and Goldsmith brought the heartbreak” – a perfect foil, it turned out.
If Corndawg brought heart, and Goldsmith brought heartbreak, McCauley brought the booze.
Dawes closed with “When My Time Comes” with Vasquez, McCauley and Corndawg helping out each taking verses. We could have all gone home happy after a set closer like that – the entire room was singing along at the top of their lungs – but alas, at nearly midnight, we still had yet to experience Middle Brother as Middle Brother.
By the time the headliners officially hit the stage, the night had already been ridiculous – but things then shifted into a full-on hootenanny mode. Instruments were passed around, band members came and went, “Me, Me, Me” and “Middle Brother” became anthems to the chaos and friendship of the moment.
Middle Brother, if I’m not mistaken, played every song on their record.
After heavy doses of McCauley and Goldsmith, Vasquez’s songs were visceral. The smooth-on-the-record waltz “Theater” became this huge, haunted thing on stage. Matt screamed and then screamed some more and oh how we swooned. Same thing on “Someday.”
Goldsmith continued to bring it with “Thanks for Nothing” and the solo “Wilderness” but my favorite song on the record “Blood and Guts” became something entirely different. The song started softly and built in crescendo until the bridge came and left me emotionally devastated: “I just wanna get my fist through some glass! I just wanna get your arm in a cast!” Man. I’m still reeling more than 48 hours later.
Soon after, the heavy mood was displaced when someone dropped a fart bomb. Jonny Corndawg happily claimed it.
The show closed at nearly 1am with a cover of Sam Cooke’s “Bring it on Home to Me.” I know this song has been played frequently during Deer Tick’s set, but bringing it to Middle Brother gave everyone in all three bands one more excuse to come on stage and sing a verse/play a solo. It couldn’t have been a better song to go out on. Yeah? Yeah.

A night like Saturday seems a rare privilege. Seeing musicians in this context clearly reveling in the opportunity to let loose a bit and share a musical moment with friends was something not soon to be forgotten. Goldsmith, Vasquez and McCauley are on the verge of something big and I think the Middle Brother album and tour will be remembered by them in the same way it will be by us: A galvanizing moment among friends before the floodgates of life and fame sweep everyone in disparate directions toward the blessings and curses of success.

Review: Ben Kweller - Canopy Club (Urbana)

2011-05-20T20:40:00.001-08:00

by Jon Stone | @jwstone - February 28, 2011

"Man, it was a tease!" Ben Kweller told me after his too-short, 30-minute set Saturday night at the Canopy Club. The openers played long, and Kweller was only supposed to play until 10:30, cutting what I thought was going to be a double bill into a night that clearly favored the real headliner, Pete Yorn.

The snub would be less disappointing if BK didn't completely own the room while he was on, which he did. All by himself. With a old Epiphone Texan and a piano. Kweller has a way of making a mid-sized room like Canopy Club's feel like a coffee house. Conversational before playing a single note, Ben explained that he hadn't been feeling so hot, resorting to a puke bucket on stage at the previous night's show in Milwaukee. You'd never have known it, though. He opened with "Walk on Me," and "I Don't Know Why" pausing for a moment after each to chat and joke with fans. From there, Ben offered sonic glimpses of his superb four-LP catalog as the set whizzed by against what turned out to be a swiftly ticking clock. He didn't preview anything from the new album, Go Fly a Kite, out later this year. But it was a sweet, sing-along set regardless. The highlight came when one of my favorites, the ballad "Falling," modulated into the Beach Boys' "God Only Knows" and again into "Thirteen." Lovely stuff.

One song later, Ben was blowing kisses and apologizing for having to be done, clearly surprised that he was out of time. In our brief chat after the show, he reiterated his disappointment for the hasty exit: "Man! I so wanted to play 'Penny on the Railroad Tracks' or something else for y'all!" And it really was a letdown. I was left wondering who to blame. The cost of the show (over $20) seemed to indicate, as I said before, a double bill, with an up-and-coming opener (The Wellspring) and two headliners. Instead Kweller seemed subjugated to a between-acts crowd warmer. He deserved better.

Review: Justin Townes Earle - Six Strings (Bloomington)

2011-05-20T20:37:00.001-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - February 14, 2011

In our recent interview with Justin Townes Earle, he had this to say about his stage performance:

“There are plenty of people that can write songs as good as I can but the one thing that I hold over a lot of songwriters is that I can burn you up in a solo acoustic performance. I’m very proud of that fact. I want it fucking bullet proof. That’s how you stick in the memory, that’s how you stick in people’s memory, you gotta grab their attention, then they’ll listen to fucking songs.”

Friday’s show in Bloomington, IL wasn’t solo – Bryn Davies and Josh Hedley joined him on stand-up bass and fiddle, respectively – but that “burn you up/bullet proof” mentality carries over regardless. Earle was, in every respect, the tallest man in the room at Bloomington’s Six Strings Club -- and his lank was easily matched by his wit and charisma. Apt, then, that the club is an honest-to-goodness honky-tonk. It’s hard to imagine a regular venue being able to contain that personality.

It was my first time seeing Earle play live, but it’s true what they say: JTE is a natural showman. Over the course of the evening his between-song quips reveal an archetypal narrative for the hard-livin’ traveling singer-songwriter. This arc includes nostalgic tributes (to his namesake Townes Van Zandt, to Woody Guthrie with “I Don’t Care” and his grandfather with “They Killed John Henry”), portraits of both of his parents (“Momma’s Eyes”), and, most of all, tales of his chemical and sexual conquests/defeats (see “South Georgia Sugar Babe” and “Ain’t Glad I’m Leaving”). Reproducing those asides here would be robbed of both context and color, but it suffices to say that the only thing Justin likes more than booze and cocaine are "fried chicken and the young ladies” (“Ain’t Waitin’”).

Earle has mastered the balance between the old and new. He sings in the traditional tongue of a country gentleman but those same songs bite with modern teeth – and they bite hard. Earle’s live sound is punctuated with an almost-brash acoustic guitar ("Travis") picking style. He startled the audience with the volume of that heavy thumb with his opener, “Move Over Mamma” – a song that moves away from the two-step it appears as on the record and into a steady, plucked out rambler. Most of the songs get a similar deconstruction in their transfer from the Nashville production. Earle often slows down the tempos making sure, as was mentioned above, that the audience is paying attention. This formula also allows him to take full advantage of the instrumentation and harmony vocals of his two companions. The result is measured but unrelenting intensity. I was also impressed by the crowd at Six Strings. From what I read, JTE shows seem notorious for obnoxious hecklers, but this crowd couldn't have been more respectful -- lots of facial hair and hunting caps and not a single one of them ironic.

My favorite moment of the night hit at around mid-set when JTE invited Hedley and Davies to take a short break and picked up the Gibson J-45 I’d been eyeing on his rack. From there, he started “Slippin’ and Slidin’,” a lovely bluesy waltz on the new record with a sweet horn arrangement that keeps a lyrically heavy song (“Why do I try my luck? I should never touch the stuff”) a bit lighter. Bereft of production, though, this song hits hard. Earle followed it up with a cover of Lightnin' Hopkins' "I Been Burning Bad Gasoline" (“Townes always used to say, every set should have blues, so here it is”) and finished out the solo set with a new song that seemed to address his recent stint in rehab with the less-than optimistic but self-aware refrain “It won’t be the last time.” Emotional devastation all around. It clicked for me sometime during those three songs: Justin Townes Earl’s talent as a songwriter is undeniable, but his charm is in his honesty (see the intro to "Slipin' and Slidin' above). Throw in a lovely Springsteen cover ("Racing in the Streets") and it was hard to not want to stick around for the line-dancing after the show.

To sum up, I drove an hour to Bloomington and found myself in a honky-tonk listening to one of the best country music artists in the country. I'm thinking of transferring to ISU.

Review: Iron & Wine - Kiss Each Other Clean

2011-05-20T20:36:00.001-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - January 25, 2011

Most of us are familiar with the anticipation and frequent disappointment associated with our favorite artists putting out new material. On rare occasions an artist is able maintain a steady ascent – one great record improving on or outsmarting the next – year after year. But most of our favorite musicians, in large part, make records that either take our breath away or leave us wanting – perhaps due to some nostalgic expectation that a band can continue to release the same album in different notes and lyrics over and over again. Iron & Wine’s Kiss Each Other Clean (out today on Warner Bros. records) has been met with critics grappling with this issue in several articles this past week. And while comparing an album with its predecessors isn’t a bad way to go about reviewing a record, I find it rarely does much to communicate anything more than what is already clear to fans: it’s either different or similar. Such comparisons don’t do much good other than providing an easy platform for judging and end up doing a disservice to great albums like Kiss Each Other Clean.

Sam Beam’s first two releases under the Iron & Wine moniker went a long way in defining him as the soft-voiced, acoustic poet we came to love. Perhaps with those spare and sweet records we imagined Beam as more interested in the basic integrity of a song – it’s melody, and lyrics – than a complicated or (some might say) overwrought presentation and came to admire that in him. In fact, I know some The Creek Drank the Cradle purists who felt betrayed that Beam took his songs to an actual studio for the second release, Our Endless Numbered Days. For most of us, though, it was that second record that cemented Iron & Wine into our minds and hearts. It has since become a classic record, rarely disputed as anything but wonderful and surely quintessential for new Iron & Wine listeners.

So when anticipating the third release, what would eventually become The Shepherd’s Dog, I remember the early, sometimes distressed/frantic buzz that Beam had utilized a full band (the horror!) and much more production for Shepherd’s Dog. Folks were loosing some serious sleep. This gets at the dilemma I was hinting at above – and it’s two-sided. On one side there is the artist whom we’ve blessed with our approval, whom has the privilege now of making music not just an artistic exercise, but also a lucrative one. The artist has the decision, then, to either continue making art, or just sticking to their successful formula, knowing that there will at least be a short run of commercial success to follow. The other side of the coin is related to the audience and our fickle expectations and inevitable critiques. From what I read, what the modern audience wants most from artists like Sam Beam is continuity – less “production,” more “authenticity” -- more of what endeared us to them in the first place, which implicitly means (and I don’t know that this is always clear to some critics) less innovation and art.

To be fair, and ironically, I think most of us think we want our artists to innovate and create art. We perhaps just want that art to meet our expectations. I ran into this problem with the Sufjan Steven’s Age of Adz. One of my favorite musicians put out a record that didn’t live up to the expectations I had placed around his previous releases (especially Illinois, another classic). So rather than allowing myself to be challenged by the artist's explorations with new sounds and formats, I threw my nose up a bit. I’ve since realized that this isn’t a fair approach.

All this leads me to my review of the new album from Iron & Wine, Kiss Each Other Clean. It is, to be sure, no Age of Adz. It’s not a challenging listen by any means, but it does represent a sonic expansion for Beam. Kiss Each Other Clean is neither an acoustic record, nor is it then aimed solely at that small audience who initially embraced the first two releases. Iron & Wine’s new record is, instead, an artistic work carefully crafted to have, in this case, a stronger mass appeal (read: first major label release) and as one of those masses, I can say that it succeeds.

This is precisely the opposite issue that existed on the newest Sufjan, a record which threw mass appeal to the wind, but it does represent the same principle question (or paradox) of new-music consumption many of us face: it’s different; so how do I deal with that? It’s my hope that we deal with it with the same grace that Sam Beam has gone about his nearly ten-year career in music.

See, Kiss Each Other Clean is a fantastic record and, despite its commercial appeal, its full of surprises. For example, on the second track “Me and Lazarus” which starts with a synthy, drum and bass thing, a jazzy saxophone (and not cool jazz, mind you) cuts through the rumble at around 1:26 and follows a spacey melody that sets a tone for the entire record. The instrumental surprises continue on songs like “Rabbit Will Run” which ends with an extended flute solo over Hammond B3 keys, and then the sax returns, this time with Stevie-Wonder-“Superstition” synths on the strangely spiritual/hymn-like “Big Burned Hand.” Also new here are several songs with sunny and bop-along vocal arrangements like “Tree By the River” (told in a totally different voice than the song’s frequent appearance in solo live shows over the last few years), and “Half Moon” in which female back-up vocalists actually utter the phrase “oooh-bop bop” like they might if this was a song about putting up a parking lot.

There is also a bit of Beam’s trademark darkness. That storm arrives about midway through the record, rains intensely and is then gone leaving things fresh again, just as one might hope. That said, if you were looking for one song that sums up what this record is about, the last track “Your Fake Name is Good Enough For Me” does it. It burns into life like an early Chicago song that has veered off its elevated tracks (I'm thinking "25 or 6 to 4") and continues to build, electric guitars blazing, for seven minutes pushing Sam Beam and company firmly into rock & roll territory. I think that's what this record is about: ten songs and Iron & Wine becomes a rock band. And as much as I love seeing Beam solo, we can only hope that he books this upcoming tour with that band.

So in case you haven't heard, the new record from Iron & Wine is different than their earlier stuff. So what? "Join me in song; join me in song."

Review: Dolorean - The Unfazed

2011-05-20T20:34:00.001-08:00

by Jon Stone | @jwstone - January 18, 2011

I'm going to chime in with one more great release out today. If you're like me, a few solid records in the first part of the year are essential. The cold all but sentences us to our homes and offices and with that imposed anchor, it is nice to be able to have some music to turn on and make it feel like we are staying put on purpose. The Unfazed, the new record from Dolorean is doing that for me right now. The album is soft and melancholy and seems to drift in from a still-warm autumn recording session.

Though I remember hearing about them after their last release way back in 2007, I missed Dolorean's last record You Can't Win. It's unfortunate because it is also a strong album with a similar well-balanced country/rock mix. Over the last four years, however, the band has seemed to distill that sound even further -- peeling back the songs a bit and letting the melodies and easily singable harmonies tread ahead of the accompaniment. If you listen closely, the lyrics move back and forth from no-end-in-sight devastation (see "Country Clutter") to maybe-the-sun-will-come-out hopeful (see the aptly titled "These Slopes Gave Me Hope") -- and sometimes both in the same song ("How is It"). You know, a little bit like a Midwestern January feels.

I'm also really looking forward to this year and its promise for outstanding new releases. I'm already enjoying the new record from Abigail Washburn (see a review I wrote elsewhere) and the Decemberists (I love that Gillian Welsh is all over that thing -- this is the best Decemberists record in years.). I'm anticipating with excitement records from Iron & Wine and Drive-by Truckers, and have you heard about this guy James Vincent McMorrow? Check out a preview of his record over at his website. It is fantastic.

grass|roots :: four acoustic acts for your consideration

2011-05-20T20:32:00.001-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - November 29, 2010

grass|roots ep. 7

The year is fading quickly. Soon you will be bombarded with lists a plenty, including several here, declaring the top ArcadeKanyeNationalSufjan records of the year. Before that, however, I wanted to throw down a final four records from 2010 that fit somewhere within the wide net I've been calling grass|roots. Each of these bands/artists put out great records this year that, I would guess, have been largely overlooked in mainstream circles. Ease into the first day back from turkey by getting acquainted with some acoustic music from some very talented smiths of the song.

Chatham County Line - Wildwood

First, I direct your attention to Chatham County Line and their record Wildwood. They are a North Carolina quartet that walk a lovely line between traditional bluegrass and indie folk. The first time I heard them, I could have sworn it was Jim James on lead vocals, but no -- that's lead singer/songwriter Dave Wilson who, uncharacteristicly for a bluegrass band, has a soft reverb on the vocal mic that adds a layer or warmth to the songs on Wildwood. The record has a few other non-traditional elements on it that set it apart/make it awesome. The harmonica on "Crop Comes In" (see above) is super sweet and it crops up in several other songs giving them a rustic, bluesy sound. Also, a drum kit often kicks in and kicks things up a notch or two. Add the multi-voice harmonies and great songwriting to the mix and Wildwood is in the top 3 great bluegrass releases of the year.

If you dig into them and like what you hear, these guys are veterans; they have four other amazing records released over the last 10 years you should check out.

+++

The Giving Tree Band - The Joke, the Threat, and the Obvious

Also great is another just-this-side of traditional group,The Giving Tree Band from Chicago. In addition to their laid back bluegrass/string-band sound, they represent a fascinating example of sustainable musical production. These dudes play instruments made from the wood of fallen trees. Seriously. They record their music in buildings powered by solar and wind energy. Their albums are printed and packaged with 100% recycled materials. They plant trees to offset pollution created by the distrabution of those records. They are the real deal, people. In the midst of such greenery, they've also put out a lovely record that deserves your attention. You may have caught them opening for Frontier Ruckus a few weeks back and they will also be playing the Chicago Bluegrass Festival next weekend in Chicago.

+++

Doug Paisley - Constant Companion

The first thing I notice on Doug Paisley's sophomore release Constant Companion is the keys. It's kind a strange thing to stand out on a mostly acoustic record built around the voice and guitar of a great song writer -- but sometimes it's the nuances on an album that make it shine. The Hammond B3 on the opening track (and others) as well as the amazing piano work throughout centers this record and sweetens in in a way that makes it the perfect afternoon chill music. Doug Paisley has been aptly compared to Bonnie "Prince" Billy. What separates the one from the other, though, is that the latter as a moniker for Will Oldham operates as a kind of smoke screen -- you're never sure, even through the ache, when Oldham is being honest and when he is inventing. With Paisley, there's never a question.

+++

John Shade - All You Love is Need

Finally, early in the year a friend introduced me to the solo artist John Shade and his debut record All You Love is Need. We featured John on a podcast back in April. All You Love is Need was recorded in Bon Iver's cabin in Wisconsin by Justin's brother Nate Vernon late last year and is, simply, a charming record that I've listened to again and again throughout the year. I'm just sorry I haven't given the album a more distinctive shout-out earlier. Pick up his record over at bandcamp for whatever you'd like to pay.

Review: Justin Townes Earle - Harlem River Blues

2011-05-20T20:29:00.001-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - November 10, 2010

On September 20th, just three days after the release of Justin Townes Earle's Harlem River Blues, the artist was arrested in Indianapolis after a performance for battery, public drunkenness, and resisting arrest. The arrest led to the cancelation of his fall tour, and Earle, who has had long history with addiction (much longer than his mere three years as a solo artist), checked into rehab. (You can read about the incident over at Old Kentucky Blog, which includes a long thread of comments from eye-witnesses on both sides of the conflict -- also check out Earle's response.)

These kinds of events are unfortunate on many levels, not the least of which is great concern for JTE's tenuous health/drugs situation. That Harlem River Blues is brilliant and deserved the kinds of publicity that JTE could have garnered for it by touring directly after its release is another casualty of that public meltdown. I am hard pressed to think of any album or artist that moves so effortlessly between genres. The record starts with the title track, a rousing 50s-era country number, and from there branches out deftly in a variety of threads: from rockabilly to jazzy delta blues, and from Drake-esque folk to straight-out gospel. And with that kind of range -- talent that may or may not be inextricably conflated with his habits -- surely, JTE should be added to the short list of troubled musical geniuses.

As a student of the history of country music, Earle is a perfect model of modern distillation. It's as if he has been able to wrangle 70 years of tradition and produce something fresh and new from that diversity -- something that his father, the acclaimed Steve Earle, has attempted over his long career -- but perhaps less successfully, as "alt-country" still seems the best designation for Steve even while Justin remains unclassifiable.

Harlem River Blues is one of my favorite records of the year, and it's going to have to tide me over for now. Though JTE's tour will resume at the end of the month, he steers clear of the midwest (no surprise there) and then will be moving things to the UK. Still, make sure you add it to your list of 2010 records to spend some quality time with.

Review: Mandolin Orange - Quiet Little Room

2011-05-20T20:25:00.001-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - October 26, 2010

grass|roots ep. 6

I spend a lot of time listening to music just on the left side of what might be called bluegrass. In fact, as I've thought about this series and music that I might want to include, I've often hit a bit of a brick wall because, while I enjoy what might be considered "traditional" bluegrass, very rarely am I blown over by it. Instead, my tastes have an affinity with the progressives (as I've explored in the past), but perhaps are even more grounded in the singer-songwriter crowd where focus moves from the instrumentation to the melody and ethos of songs. Genre-wise, music journalists have a tough time categorizing both of these kinds of groups. They're all a little bit grassy, a little bit country-folk, a little bit something else.

Last year I told whoever would listen how much I loved Sarah Jarosz's debut, Song Up In Her Head. I'll spend what's left of this year (and likely long into next) proclaiming my penchant for Mandolin Orange and their debut, full-length Quiet Little Room. It is a gem of a record mixing folky male/female duets and (mostly) acoustic guitar, mandolin, and fiddle instrumentation. The music doesn't shy away from using a drumkit when its appropriate, but leans mostly on hauntingly sweet slow tunes with Gillian Welsh/Dave Rawlins-style close harmonies and stringed instrument solos. Andrew Marlin and Emily Frantz can be added to the growing list of great acts who employ this formula: Ben Sollee and Daniel Martin Moore come to mind immediately, but, for some reason (and I suspect it's a good one), Nathaniel Rateliff's record this year, which is full of amazing songwriting with really lovely vocal harmonies, hangs nicely in this crowd too.

In any case, I highly recommend your checking out Mandolin Orange's record and seeing them if and when they swing through your town. I hope they make some midwestern touring plans soon!

Check out "Train Song," a non-album track, below, but also click here and listen through to a bunch of great YouTube performances (many off the record) from the band. (And thanks to Anson for the heads up on this and so many other great bands!)

Pygmalion Music Fest: Saturday wrap-up

2011-05-20T20:23:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - September 28, 2010

The end of Pygmalion is indicated first by the exit of the tour buses parked along Oregon street and the second by the immediate cold-snap that seems to follow every year. I've been in recovery mode this past weekend: sleeping and pulling the sweaters out of storage. I've been thinking a lot about the fest, still -- sad that it's over, but happy, once again, that CU hosts such an amazing musical event and does so in a way that highlights some of the best artistic locals of the city: The Krannert Performing Art Center, The Krannert Art Gallery, the Art Theatre in downtown Champaign, Mike & Mollys' cozy loft performance space, and of course, Canopy Club. What a town (or townS). What a festival.

I went into Saturday without expectations. None of the acts on the bill were bands that I had spent much time with in the past, so everything would be a new experience. It's not a bad place to be when at a festival. I had no loyalties to any bands, no pretenses about who or what I would or wouldn't like -- only the promise that these were the bands scheduled on the final day of a festival: I couldn't easily go wrong.

This proved, mostly, to be the case. Here's my recap:

Ted Leo & the Pharmacists: I was a bit out of my element with Ted Leo, who leans so obviously into punk atmospheres. Punk is not generally my thing. I'll admit, that despite the AMAZING drumming, all I got during the first half of their set was a more palatable/modern version of 90s punk bands that I was never really into. There was, however, a moment about 3/4 of the way into the set where things clicked out of Bad Religion/Pennywise mode and into something totally different. The band stayed in that place for the rest of the set and I was glad, because it was really amazing.

Roky Erickson with Okkervil River was next. I've had mixed feelings about this headliner since it was announced. It seemed like an awkward choice, but I was glad to see a full auditorium and a number of people that seemed genuinely enthused about the collaboration. And it was cool. The matchup between Roky and the Okkervil River boys worked -- mostly. Honestly though, it was a bit dry. I listened to the first few songs, got the idea that the whole set would basically be about the same and bailed for this little old-time jazz band I really wanted to see across town. I wasn't sorry I did.

The Viper and His Famous Orchestra: By the time I arrived, I was sure I'd missed them. I dashed out of the Roky show into the rain and hurried over to Mike & Molly's, only to circle for 10 minutes before I found a place to park. When I got up to the show, it so happened that they were having trouble with sound and had not gone on yet. In fact, they went on a whole hour after their scheduled set time. Not so good for the folks that had been waiting for them to start for all that time, but perfect for me, the wet and weary straggler.

I loved this band. I have a soft spot for old-time anything and The Viper played both new compositions and songs from the early 20th century. The Viper and His Famous orchestra emanated classiness, humor, and big talent, with baritone uke, double bass, trombone, suitcase percussion and lap steel. They were charming and I would see them again in a heartbeat. (You should too -- they are based out of Milwaukee, after all.

Cap'n Jazz: I cut out a few minutes early so I would be sure not to miss Cap'n Jazz. I arrived back at Krannert to see a large crowd gathered in the decadent lobby where Cap'n Jazz was playing. Try to imagine the asynchronicity here: decadent lobby, beautiful hardwood, low ceilings, foot-high stage usually occupied by a classical guitarist or pianist ... but instead, Cap'n Jazz: howling, screaming, guitars blazing, sweaty (too-old-to-be) crowd surfers, nervous Krannert ushers pacing around the outskirts, and the unseen administrator reviewing the insurance policy and contract. It was insane. For a moment, I wanted to be up there, singing along, getting crazy with the fans. Then I remembered I'm thirty-two and this is the first time I've ever heard the Cap'n. Still it was fun. I sat with the other geriatrics in the back, nursing my sore festival back.

Caribou went on at 12:30 am at Canopy Club. Tired, but excited after the great stuff I'd heard about the band, I found a nice place to sit in the balcony and let Caribou's beautiful trancey goodness wash over me. Not a lot of words are required here to say what needs to be said: Caribou was my favorite act of the fest. In fact, the two best acts of Pygmalion were its opener, Janelle Monae, and the closer, Caribou. Daniel Snaith brings a humility to the stage that stands in stark, but lovely, contrast to his genius -- he was a wonderful performer. But Brad Weber, the band's drummer, steals the show. He is incredible and such a privilege to listen to.

It was a festival. I had fun. Thanks to Ryan and Seth and Pygmalion for a fantastic weekend. I can't wait until next year. I'm holding out for Wilco as the headliner.

Pygmalion Day 3: À la carte

2011-05-20T20:21:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - September 25, 2010

Tonight Pygmalion wraps up. It's been an interesting and eclectic festival and I've had a great time.

Yesterday, that eclecticism reached its full potential as nearly every act I saw differed significantly from the last. Here's a quick recap:

Colour Revolt - I got to Canopy Club last night right at the tail end of Gold Motel's set. I was sorry to miss them. Colour Revolt was great though -- despite some sound difficulties; I dug their set. They do a decent job moving between heavy and soft, and they have an interesting vocal approach that moves between close harmonies or doubled melodies and a the fast-talking, speak-singing made popular by bands like the Hold Steady. Colour Revolt was probably my favorite set of the night. I look forward to seeing them again.

Unwed Sailor - Instrumental bands have my respect. It takes a lot of mettle to let the music speak for itself. Unwed Sailor was good -- not amazing. But again, mettle!

OWEN - Mike Kinsella is an interesting guy. He's one of those talented musicians who, when you hear him play, seems -- I don't know -- unhappy to be performing. Maybe it's the result of years and years of playing with only moderate success. I can imagine how frustrating that would be. Mike's style, though, is kind of incredible. Each song is a pithy (if often smug) vignette explicating a moment from his lived experience. What fascinates me about OWEN is Mike's use of open tuning. He seemed to use a different one on every song even though sometimes the songs are only a minute or two long. It was impressive, if a little overwrought.

Finally, I had no idea that Mike was a member of the band Cap'n Jazz. I'll be seeing him tonight in that iteration and I'll let you know how the two projects contrast. Perhaps the better observation will be how and if there is any correlation.

+/- (plus/minus) - These guys were a bit weird if only because I was expecting something completely different. Their songs on MySpace are heavily sequenced -- with canned beats and neatly drawn keyboards. Guitars are present, but they aren't the first thing you're directed toward on the site. Live, plus/minus are a pretty straight-ahead rock band. Guitars are at the forefront and only one song had a prominent sequenced element. I actually quite liked them, but rather than feeling like something new and interesting, they felt instead like an amalgam of other bands (in this case, early Jimmy Eat World and Death Cab). Which is to say, I was entertained, but I didn't buy anything from the merch table.

Cut Chemist - I think I can honestly say that last night's DJ set from Cut Chemist was the very first time I have watched/listened to a DJ spin (oh, wait! I saw Flying Lotus this year too). It was amazing and reminded me a lot of the Books show I saw at last year's Pygmalion. Cut Chemist employ the same visual/sound element that the Books do, except, of course, that while the Books create a soundtrack to their video element, Cut Chemist are manipulating both the audio and the video live while it's happening -- really fun to watch. Exhausted, I had to take off at 1:30 AM after they had been on stage for a little under an hour. Who knows how late the kids kept on dancing.

---

Tonight, Ted Leo, Rokey Ericson with Okkervil River, and Carabou will close things out. I'm hoping to squeeze in a nap before things get going.

Pygmalion Day 2: Those Darlins

2011-05-20T20:20:00.000-08:00

by Jon Stone | @jwstone - September 27, 2010

I've been looking forward to seeing Those Darlins play again ever since they (insert music-blogger hyperbole) last year at the Highdive. That night they played way too well for the smallish audience that had gathered to see them. I knew it was just a matter of time before things kicked in and last night it was clear that they have. The crowd at the Independant Media Center was much larger, but that wasn't the only thing that was different. Those Darlins have metamorphosed. They are no longer the FOB (fresh out of the barn) dirty dixie chicks group that I saw (and loved, let's not forget) last year. Carter family covers? Gone. The hits, i.e. "Snaggletooth Mamma" & "The Whole Damn Thing"? Totally absent from last night's set. In fact, I think one of the only songs they played last night off of their 2009 eponymous album (and certainly the only "hit") was "Wild One" (I'm pretty sure I heard "Who's that Knockin' at My Window," too. Hit?).

Instead we got a band that has turned the dial from country-punk to a decidedly punk*/sexy sixties rock. That asterisk constitutes a now-subtle nod to their Tennessee roots which, as they have said themselves, shows up mostly in a not-easily-repressed southern accent. Not that I think they are repressing their roots, but surely the Darlins I heard last night have grown up significantly in the last year of road-weary touring. Part of that growing up included some battle scars, including the unfortunate injury (broken arm) of baritone uke player Nikki Darlin.

But maybe that injury wasn't so unfortunate because it was Nikki Darlin that shined last night. All three girls have swagger, but woah, when Nikki Darlin put down her ukelele and took the mic in front of some of Those Darlins' new material, the band transformed from the tin-roof tanned trio I was familiar with into a different thing all together. Nikki has the strongest voice of the three and when she is singing lead other crazy stuff started to happen: Jessi Darlin (or what you could see of her behind her huge Epiphone hallow-body) started playing these psychedelic rock riffs and solos that I didn't realize she was capable of. Also, at least once during the growing-evermore-frenzied set, every member of the band found their way out into the audience. Over and over, my friend and I turned to each other open-mouthed, both thinking the same thing: Who is this band?

Jarring as this Patsy Cline to Janis Joplin move seemed, the punk germ was always there. I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised. Now that we know that Those Darlins are not just about a single formula, it will be fun to watch what other shapes they can take.
___

I also took in sets from the Mean Lids (a great local string band that I feel connected to, if tangentially: Matt Turino, who plays fiddle in the band, is the son of an Ethnomusicology professor on campus that I am currently taking banjo lessons from. woo!), the Duke of Uke and his Novelty Orchestra (also local, these folks do it up as a multi-instrumental 7-piece), and I also caught the first half of the band Psychic Twin, Erin Fein of Headlights' new sequencer-and-keyboards driven band. If you like Headlights, be sure to watch for Psychic Twin -- I think they may be even better.

___

I'm off again. Looking forward to sets from Colour Revolt, +/- (plus/minus), and Cut Chemist tonight!

Pygmalion Music Festival: Day 1

2011-05-20T20:18:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

Pygmalion Day 1

"This is an interaction!" announced the man in the top hat and tux at the opening of Champaign-Urbana's Pygmalion festival. "Get your tweeting and your facebooking out of the way because you will be needing your hands free for this interaction!" The PA system boomed and the crowd screamed and with that as a cue, two gigantic projections of Janelle Monae's head appeared on screen and told us the story -- the legend -- of the ArchAndroid. At the end of this Oz-like encounter, One commandment was levied on the crowd: "you will dance or die."

And we did. And it was good.

Pygmalion kicked off last night at Canopy Club and when I say kicked off, I mean kicked off. Janelle Monae was incredible. Her record ArchAndroid is groundbreaking, but her performance of the material is truly outstanding. The key word there, I think, is performance. There is no shoegazing here, no moments in between songs with awkward banter. From start to finish (and not unlike a theatre performance), Monae and her band perform. It's refreshing and the music is great, so it is also fantastically fun. Part of that fun had to do with the visual projections that accompanied the performance. During "Cold War" images of Muhammad Ali in the ring were projected: punches thrown and paint splattering to the beat which then modulated into a lightsaber fight. Boxing and lightsabers? Yes! I also loved the tune "Locked Down" which manages to mix Diana Ross, Stevie Wonder and Michael Jackson in a single bundle, and of course "Tightrope" moved the crowd from thrilled into ecstatic. A mid-set cover of the old standard (By Charlie Chaplin, which seems appropriate) "Smile" was also an appropriate and palate cleansing number.

The only moment of her set that sagged for me was her duet with of Montreal's Kevin Barnes. His presence on stage seemd a bit forced and opportunistic and, frankly, his voice is so outstripped my Monae, that it ends up kind of difficult to listen to.

Which is part of the reason I left before of Montreal's set. Watching a band get upstaged is always a little awkward.

My last word here is this: if you have the opportunity to see Janelle Monae, take it. Her show is worth the price of admission and then some.
___

From there, I made the short journey over to the Highdive in Champaign to see Built to Spill's set (because as an avid indie-rock fan, I can't live too long without my shoegazing and awkward stage banter).

It was my first time seeing Built to Spill who had, until a year or so ago, flown beneath my radar. And, to tell you the truth, for me their records, while good, leave something to be desired dynamically. They are the kind of band that has me pining after a live performance where I know things like volume and messiness and noise translate so much better and feel so much more authentic.

Built to Spill didn't disappoint in this regard. When the band opened with 1999's "The Plan," I immediately had that "Now I get it" moment and it carried throughout the evening. Their sound strikes me as a distillation of everything I loved about "alternative" rock in the 90s (dichotomous heavy/soft guitars, chunky solos, etc.) with what eventually became the "best" of indie-pop in the 2000s (messiness, complex simplicity [if that makes sense], etc.). I left feeling bad that it's taken me ten years to see them--they seem like a crucial touchstone between the old(ish) and the new.

It's impossible to listen to Built to Spill and not hear their influence on other successful acts. I was especially struck by how much Doug Martsch's vocal style is Ben Gibbard-esque. Maybe Death Cab was the original Owl City. Ruminate on that one for a moment. Boise and Seattle are only a day's car ride away. (Actually, I think that those kind of influences are of the more friendly, apprenticeship variety. Don't they call that the "Northwest Sound" or something?)

Here were a few of the standouts from the night on Built to Spill's setlist: "Randy Described Eternity," "Liar," "Twin Falls" (not just a Ben Folds Five song!), "Time Trap" (maybe my favorite of the night), "Distopian Dream Girl"

And they also covered the Grateful Dead's "Ripple." I had to look that one up, Ryan.

I look forward to seeing them again soon.

---

Tonight I'm looking forward to our local string band, the Mean Lids and, of course, Those Darlins. The later evening will be full of more great bands as well. More tomorrow!

Pygmalion Preview

2011-05-20T20:16:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - September 13, 2010

I moved to Champaign-Urbana three years ago hoping against hope that the town would have something resembling a music scene. For all I knew, it was going to be quiet cornfields with infrequent trips to Chicago every now and then to get my live music fix. Within weeks of my arrival posters for a festival called Pygmalion showed up plastered around campus with Andrew Bird as the headliner. It’s become a yearly tradition ever since.

Pygmalion is a gift for our little indie-rock town/s. It happens early in the school year in that moment between the swelter and snow (September 22-25). It spreads out across Champaign and Urbana highlighting the best venues but always moving into unique spaces as well (last year Low played in a church and My Brightest Diamond played in an art gallery). And year after year it is literally packed with amazing acts.

This year is no different. Well, actually it is a little bit different. This year there’s been a bit of drama and confusion about headliners and schedules. The headliner was first announced to be pioneering garage/psychedelic 60s artist Roky Erikson backed by Okkervil River. And, indeed, Erickson will play Saturday night of the fest in the typical headliner location, the beautiful Krannert Center for the Performing Arts. But Roky and Okkervil River have since been trumped on the Pyg concert poster by later festival additions, of Montreal and Built to Spill who will both play Wednesday the 22nd, the opening night of the fest.

In my view, however, too many good headliners is a great problem to have, and is the sign of a healthy festival. Organizer Seth Fein has been very forthcoming about the difficulties of booking a fest like Pyg. At first there were some really difficult-to-swallow scheduling conflicts (Built to Spill/of Montreal)– especially that first night, but Seth and his team have now tweaked the schedule so headliners can all be seen without (too much) overlap. This is also a good thing. Check out the full schedule here.

The best thing about a festival like Pygmalion is the chance to check out a ton of great new bands. I’ve spent the last few weeks going through the line-up, spending time on bands’ MySpace and homepages, paying attention especially to bands I’m less familiar with. So as a preview, I thought that rather than just regurgitating praise for the solid grouping of top-billed artists – the headliners, Caribou, Ted Leo & the Pharmacists, and Surfer Blood among them – I’d prepare a list of mostly-new-to-me bands that have stood out as I’ve been doing my homework. So here goes:

Those Darlins: I'm cheating on the "less familiar" bit right off. I've seen Those Darlins before but if you haven't, you gotta. When the lineup was announced earlier this year, Those Darlins was the band I was happiest to see on it. I love this band -- I caught them on a whim when they came through town last winter, but the impression they left with their raucous country tunes and insatiable energy has lasted a long time. It will be great to see them again.

Janelle Monae: This one is also a bit of a cheat. Who hasn't heard of Janelle Monae? I realize of Montreal is a big deal -- Ryan here at Muzzle of Bees is a big fan -- but I'm more excited about opener Janelle Monae and I know I'm not alone. Monae's "Tightrope" and her enigmatic debut record The ArchAndroid aren't just good, they are smart, and I look forward to see how she brings it on the opening night of the festival. If there's anyone who can upstage the un-upstagable of Montreal, maybe she can.

The Cults - Speaking of enigmatic, all the internets offer up by way of sampling for this New York boy/girl duo is a bandcamp page. Pitchfork says they're "film students" -- I suspect they are playing up this mystery thing. The three songs you can download on that bandcamp page are great though, and if rocous country shenanigans aren't your cup of whiskey, be sure to check out The Cults who play, tragically, right when Those Darlins do.

Cap'n Jazz: Preeminent emo-before-it-was-cannibalized Chicago natives Cap'n Jazz have reunited. They are amazing. And I've only listened to them on their MySpace page.

+/- {plus/minus}: I have a weak spot for bands who can mix electronic beats and acoustic instruments well. +/- do. I'm less fond of bands who make themselves difficult to write about by their weird band names. So +/- kind of equal themselves out. (Could this be the implicit message in their band name? We'll never know.) I'm interested, though, in seeing what these dudes can pull off live. I'll be at their show.

Colour Revolt: Jackson, Mississipi gives us Colour Revolt. Their post-Pavement approach is wordy and the lyrics had me going "did they just say...? why yes, yes they did. Wow" on several tracks. Looking forward to checking these guys out and not only just to find out what that British u is doing in their name.

Gold Motel - There are tons of great female artists playing Pygmalion this year, and the Hush Sound's Greta Morgan's solo project Gold Motel is up there on my list of must-sees. This was one of the few artists who, once I landed on their MySpace page during my little study session, I didn't leave until I'd listened to every song there.

(Speaking of amazing women artists, I should add that I'm also interested in seeing the band Psychic Twins, a new project featuring Erin Fein of Headlights.)

The Viper & His Famous Orchestra - Listen to this band for three seconds and you'll feel the pangs I'm feeling related to their scheduled performance time: right during headliners Roky Ericksen and Okkervil River. I have this hunch that one day (and I hope it's not far), bands with a bit of jazzy flare will get more appreciation in the indie crowd. Until then, I will listen to my Preservation Hall compilations and Bad Plus records and wish The Viper's orchestra was famous enough to not get scheduled right during the festival's headliner. (Let me insert here that I am not one of the out-of-shape-bent folks known to complain on certain CU blogs. I just like tappin' my feet as much as I like bobbin' my head is all.)

Zach May & the Maps - See above. I put together this list before I did things like check schedules. Zach May plays right before the Viper, but I still think he and his Maps have a great thing going. They're a little Beirut-y -- but well within the three-fourths of Beirut that I really like. So, if you don't want to throw down the big bucks for the Saturday night shows at Krannert, head over to Mike & Molly's for the evening. Cover is sure to be cheap, and the music will give those headliners a run for their money.

I haven't mentioned any of the acclaimed DJ acts playing the fest, but if that's your thing, be sure to check out the list of DJs spinning at the fest. I'll definitely be at the Cut Chemist (of Ozomatli/Jurrasic 5) show, but wonder what other acts might help make me less ambivalent towards DJ shows. Any suggestions?

That suggestions question goes for the whole fest. Will you be at Pygmalion this year? Who is on your list of must-sees? Surely there is a great band playing that I don't have on my list (I know because I whittled it down considerably). Educate me. And let's meet up and hang out if you'll be here. Also, let's not forget that some of our favorite local CU bands will be playing too: Common Loon, Elsinore, Santah, Duke of Uke, I'm thinking of ya'll. Support!

See you next week.

Review: Land of Talk - Cloak and Cipher

2011-05-20T20:14:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - August 25, 2010

In the mid 90s a little-known band called that dog. was touring as a Geffen label-mate with Weezer. I first saw them in that context and became, quite possibly, their biggest fan. They were eclectic and raw, especially on their eponymous release, but they also wrote beautiful pop songs with with soaring (if occasionally intentionally dissonant) three-part female vocal harmonies. They managed to mix dirty, post-punk guitars with bright pop melodies in ways that allowed a little more success with each subsequent release -- and just as they were at the height of that success, they vanished.

I have this bad habit of trying to find new substitutes for my old favorites. So, as I begin this review of Land of Talk’s new record Cloak and Cipher (which dropped yesterday) it is with the admission that when I heard the song “The Hate I Won’t Commit,” my favorite on the album, I thought: that dog! But, Land of Talk deserves more than to just be a nostalgic place-holder, especially for a band that up and left me hanging. A lot more.

Here are a few other admissions: I’m not really that into this year’s chillwave/dream pop/sun-bleached (whatever you want to call them) releases from the likes of Beach House and Best Coast, and (to further alienate myself from popular culture at large) after seeing Sleigh Bells at Pitchfork, I’m still scratching my head over their seemingly universal appeal. Really? A dude playing guitar riffs over canned beats and karaoke vocals? I digress. Land of Talk, however, seems related genre-wise to these other bands. So while thinking about reviewing Cloak and Cipher, I’ve been hung up on the implicit question I’ve been mulling over above: How can my love for Land of Talk's new release be justified against my not being blown over by Beach House and Best Coast?

So again (anticipating the flames), all I'm saying is that I'm not that into them and not that they're not good. Indeed, Beach House and Best Coast have managed on their records to do one thing very well. I understand their appeal. (To illustrate -- I just gave my wife a first sample of both bands and she said in perfect unironic seriousness --"It sounds like I'm at the Gap." Precisely.) But I think they suffer from the She & Him syndrome: decent songs, especially on their own, but fill an album with them and you're left without much sonic variety. Land of Talk offer that variety on Cloak and Cipher. We hear it in the instrumentation, in the dynamics, and, perhaps where it matters most, in the songwriting. It takes a few songs to build on Cloak and Cipher, but it starts in earnest four tracks in on “Swift Coin,” builds on the amazingly titled “Color Me Badd,” and by the time you get to that watershed track I mention above (“The Hate I Won’t Commit”), its clear that this is a band capable of making all kinds of noises, all of them good.

I don’t think it’s a mistake that a lot of it reminds me of my favorite female-led 90s records. I hear Kim and Kelly Deal’s influence on Cloak and Cipher and something else elusive… maybe Sonic Youth or My Bloody Valentine. Land of Talk also move in and out of territory covered by Beach House and Best Coast, but do it with more veracity and vigor. Most of all, this is a band that nurtures listener interest. I listen and want to know more: I get on the internet and read about them. I learn that Elizabeth Powell who leads the band is a member of Broken Social Scene (evidence of this crystallizes on Cloak and Cipher’s “Handburg, Noon” which sounds like it could have been on a BSS or Stars record). Not surprisingly, I also learn that members of Stars and Arcade Fire make appearances on the record. Also, Powell recently recovered from vocal-chord surgery, but you’d never know it. Her voice is clean and makes for a lovely contrast to the often crunchy guitars and rhythms.

To sum up, I like Land of Talk. I think they are better than Beach House or Best Coast because of reasons I mention above, but also because I'm on a bit of a search. I'm tired of bands that seem like fads. I want to invest. And I want records that give me a reason to invest. I want some kind of indication in what I hear of that potential equity. Cloak and Cipher is a small record, but I hear on it a band with that potential -- with that spark. Most importantly, I hear a band unlikely to vanish after a few years of fad success.

MySpace: Land of Talk
MP3: Land Of Talk – “Quarry Hymns”

Review: The Antlers - House of Blues, Chicago

2011-05-20T20:11:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - August 13, 2010

Last Saturday night, after a long day in the sun at Lollapalooza, I walked the six or so city blocks from where I was staying in Chicago to the House of Blues for the pre-Lolla appearance of The Antlers and The National. The House of Blues, notorious for its Vegas-esque swank and commercialized kitsch is situated on one of the prettiest corners of Chicago, right across the river from Dearborn and Wacker and at the foot of the Wilco-famous Marina Towers. It’s quite a beautiful place to be out walking especially on a clear summer night.

The show didn’t start until 11pm, and after being deer-tagged incorrectly, they wouldn’t let me up to my balcony seat until I went back (twice) to get the right wristband on. The main room at the House of Blues (there is a “back porch” room too) has a mid-sized foor area with two balconies that are mostly standing room only. I wasn’t down in the pit, but from my position on the first balcony, I seemed to be looking directly down on the stage. So, for all its over-the-top “we-are-the-rock-&-roll venue” posturing, I have to say that there isn’t really a bad seat in the house (of blues).

The venue sounds really great too, so they myst be doing something right. It was the first thing I noticed when The Antlers took the stage and fired into “Kettering” from last years’ Hospice. I saw them in the Spring and was still pretty on the fence then about whether or not I thought they have the staying-power they are going to need to last. After Saturday’s performance, I’m beginning to think that, indeed, they do.

Maybe it’s been touring with the National that has launched these guys into a new level, but something felt different on Saturday than it had earlier in the year. It wasn’t that the quality of their sound had improved, necessarily. In fact, lead-man Peter Silberman had a rasp in voice when he shot for some of his stratospheric high notes that can only be the indication of touring nearly incessantly for the last two years. Rather, there was certain confidence in their performance. Hospice is a thematically heavy record – one that might lend it self to timidity, or airlessness after so many nightly performed repetitions. Saturday night, though, the music seemed fresh. The highs and lows of “Sylvia” and the story of “Two” both made the goose bumps rise and when that kind of internalization occurs, I know that (at least for me) a band is onto something special.

Again, I can’t help but think about this band’s future. Albums like Hospice are brilliant but risky because of their cohesive “concept.” The songs hang together so well; they pick up on one another’s lyrics and emotion and in a lot of ways rely on each other for the full emotional impact. But this can be frustrating for some folks. The girl I stood next to said she had seen The Antlers play several times, but the songs all kind of blurred together. I can empathize with this sentiment. I think what needs to follow for this band – to push things to the next level, so to speak – is a record that packs the same kind of emotional impact as Hospice, but does so in a way that single songs can stand on their own and survive in the wild as distinct entities. The National’s “Mr. November,” for example, is a brilliant closer for the band’s record Alligator, but it also works anthemically for the band’s diverse live sets which contain songs across the National’s catalog. Pull that off, Antlers, and I think you’re here to stay.

---

A few brief words about the National’s set that followed. I’ve seen them play now four times and save for that first performance – which initiated me into complete and utter fandom -- the House of Blues was the best I’ve ever seen them. Matt Barninger seemed in an especially good mood and the band joked their way through most of the set announcing several songs by saying, “Alright, this is our party song.” Like he would the next day at Lolla, Richard Reed Parry joined them onstage for all of the songs from High Violet. He was barefoot and all smiles and very different than the crazed, costume-wearing member of Arcade Fire that I would see the next night.

The song that stuck out for me at both this show and the one that would follow the next day was “Apartment Story” from Boxer. It's a simple tune but has that great, classic-U2ish chorus ("Tired and wired we ruin too easy” and the line “we’ll stay inside till somebody finds us, do whatever the TV tells us… so worry not, all things are well, we’ll be alright, we have our looks and perfume on..” I love the imagery here and the rare positivity followed immediately with irony.” This is why The National is an amazing band. Four times isn't enough. I can't wait to see them again.

Here’s the setlist for the evening:

Runaway / Afraid of Everyone / Brainy / Mistaken for Strangers / Anyone’s Ghost / Bloodbuzz Ohio / Squalor Victoria / Available / Conversation 16 / Sorrow / Apartment Story / Abel / England / Fake Empire / (encore) Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks / Secret Meeting / Mr. November / Terrible Love

7 Questions with Ryan Groff of Elsinore

2011-05-20T20:08:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone - August 10, 2010

Elsinore, one of our favorite bands from Champaign-Urbana, is celebrating the release of Yes Yes Yes with Parasol Records today and we couldn't be more excited for them. Lead man Ryan Groff was nice enough to sit down and answer some questions for us about the band, his history and influences as a musician, and the music scene here in CU. We wish them all the luck we can muster!

A few weeks after I moved to C-U in the summer of 2007, I heard Elsinore play at the Urbana Corn festival. I immediately went home and hit up the internet for more info. Your MySpace page at the time had you guys listed as an alt-country band. The Elsinore I hear on Yes Yes Yes is not really what I think of when I think alt-country or Americana. Can you talk a bit about the history of the band and its sonic evolution?

Our first two years (2004-2006) we were very acoustic and very Americana/Alt-Country. This was how we started and what felt right. But, as we played in cities outside our small college town and started shaping a real vision and direction, we realized we were all ready to move into something new sonically and musically. We don't look back and scoff at our first record, Nothing for Design, because we had a lot of fun making it (thank you, Mark Rubel!) and really love how it turned out. But, since it has been our only full-length out in the world, we've been overly antsy to get Yes Yes Yes out so people don't get confused about just exactly what it is we do. We've dreaded the "Bob Dylan in '66" response. (Ha!) We loved Ryan Adams and the early Shins records, and that seemed to saturate the songwriting and arrangement processes. But, I started realizing that my lifelong love of The Beatles and new-found love of Radiohead were carving me into a different kind of songwriter. I wasn't feeling acoustic guitars and shuffle beats anymore. Instead my pedal board grew and grew, and we just turned everything up until it crackled a little. We'd electrified our sound and that naturally took us in the direction we are now, which gets called "pop", "space-rock", "art rock", etc. And this music is what feels right. When comparisons to Death Cab for Cutie or Queen or Radiohead or Arcade Fire happen we smile and nod in agreement.

Being from the Midwest is a theme that creeps into Elsinore’s music from time to time. What are the benefits and draw-backs of being from a place like Champaign-Urbana?

Champaign-Urbana is an ideal community to live in for what we're doing. It's not so small that you feel like there's not enough happening musically or just culturally, but it's not the gigantor that Chicago, L.A., & New York are. When we're in New York I feel like we'd be so unhappy if we lived there. Sure, EVERY band seems to be from Brooklyn right now and we love most of them, so something is right in that creative next right now. But, I'd rather stop in and play a few times a year, see our friends, sleep on their couches and floors, and then talk about how good it was once we're home in Illinois sitting in my giant backyard while paying an affordable mortgage on a house I love... a house with a full basement where we don't pay rent to rehearse and record. And I don't mean that as a negative to city-dwellers. I just love being in the Midwest and having a lot of space when I'm home. CU gives us everything we need, and we're in the middle of the Midwest triangle of St. Louis, Chicago, and Indianapolis. It's PERFECT!

What is the music community here like?

I've loved the feeling of Champaign-Urbana since I was a kid and would come up here from Charleston with my family. Maybe the Super Computer has laced the infrastructure of these cities with something magnetic and supernatural, or maybe it's just the perfect combination of cornfields, a clean water supply, and a mini-metropolis that keeps things spinning here. Whatever's happening is so good, especially for the music scene. There are always the student bands that come and go as U of I waxes and wanes, but there's a permanent slice of the population that makes great music. And the people who live here go see, hear, and support original music, and when you put those two things together you have a flourishing music scene. Besides all of the hard-working bands, we have entities like Exile on Main St., Parasol Records, Pygmalion Music Festival, Krannert Center for the Performing Arts, Indi Go Gallery, Polyvinyl Records, Undertow Music Collective, The Shadowboxer Collective, Seth Fein, Ward Gollings, and a music-supporting press made up of SmilePolitely.com, Buzz (The Daily Illini), and The News-Gazette. And something small and seemingly inconsequential, but something that I think is the sign of any good music community: when you hang posters in this town they STAY UP! So, you're not just wasting paper and time by flyering for your shows.

One of the most striking elements of Elsinore, Ryan, is your voice. The new record has some really amazing vocal layering and harmonies. Do you remember the first time you sang for an audience? What’s the legacy there? Who are your influences?

I remember being in fifth grade and being asked to sing in front of a gym full students and their parents. I was freaked out and didn't let my family come, but I remember it going well. But, it obviously took its toll because I didn't sing again until I was 17 and a junior in high school. That's when I started singing and playing the guitar, and shortly after started songwriting. And that's when it overtook me. I knew right away that I was supposed to sing and play in front of people. I feel like I'm physically and mentally built to do this because I have a huge mouth and a huge lung capacity, and I'm pretty obsessive compulsive. So, all the elements are there! Ha. Like I said earlier, I've listened to The Beatles my entire life, so I've always had great voices and great harmonies in my ears. (I can't wait to put my future son or daughter to sleep with The White Album every night.) The singers who inspire & influence me the most are, like I said, Paul McCartney, John Lennon, & George Harrison (sorry Ringo...you're a hack), but also Thom Yorke, Andrew Bird, Annie Clark, Feist, Ben Gibbard, Freddie Mercury, and David Bowie. These are the voices that feel real and unique. These are the ones that do it.

Elsinore’s songs—especially those on Yes Yes Yes—often unfold as a kind of fractured narratives. Sometimes we get intimate details without a ton of back-story and sometimes it seems to be the opposite. Tell us a little about your songwriting process. What elements need to be there before you think, yeah, this might just work?

I'm always battling with myself to write good lyrics. I constantly sing parodies of my songs and other people's songs with horrible lyrics both to flush out the bad ideas and to remind my wife why she married me. Usually, a single phrase will pop its head out and I'll run with it into the chord creating process. So, I guess you can say I let that tiny bit of lyrics push me in a musical direction. Then, I'll struggle and fight and push to write the words that fit with what the music is doing. Chord progressions, harmonies, and arranging always come pretty quickly. I've always been able to find good hooks. It's putting the right words to those hooks that hold me up. I can never, never-ever write a poem or chunk of lyics and then put the music to it. I try all the time, but I just don't work that way. I write a lot about our bodies and what makes us keep living and how it all works (and doesn't work). I've always been comfortable with talking about my family and our function/dysfunction. Alcoholism, tons of divorce, mental illness, and unconditional love give you a lot to write about.

It’s easy to feel the love for Elsinore at a show in C-U, but being a working band mean being a touring band. What’s it like out on the road? Do you have any favorite venues or towns to play in? What do you guys do to stay sane?

Being on the road sometimes feels like that bad dream you have about being naked at the grocery store in the fruit section. Some nights in some cities can be the best shows you have all year...or the worst. We've been touring outside of Illinois for three years and I still haven't seen a pattern. St. Louis, Chicago, Indianapolis, Memphis, Jamestown, NY, Hamden, CT, New York City/Brooklyn, & New Orleans have given us the kind of nights that remind us that this is what we're supposed to be doing. Sometimes it's a Tuesday in February and we're in Charleston, South Carolina and everything is hitting just right. The seventeen people who are there are loving every second and all on their phones texting their friends about this band they're watching...and then twenty more people show up halfway through the set and they all buy something when we're done with our set. And then sometimes it will be a Friday in Philadelphia or Boston and the show just ISN'T working. Maybe the local band didn't promote or doesn't draw well, or maybe the show promoter dropped the ball and six people are there and couldn't care less about what bands are playing...but still paid the $8 cover. It's weird. But, touring overall is what we love doing and we know we have to do it if we expect to "do something" in this business. So, we puff up our chests and go to work. And we always have stacks of good books and DVDs in the van to help glue it all together.

I have to ask about your name. I’m a big fan of the movie Strange Brew where the brewery/company Bob and Doug go to work at is called Elsinore. I’m guessing, however, that the story that Strange Brew is loosely based on is also where your name comes from [Hamlet]. What’s in a name?

The history of the name is simple. There's a farm outside of Charleston where I grew up called Elsinore Farm. When I was in college and just starting to seriously write songs I put "Elsinore" into a song called "Vampire in My Town", which was my first real poetically political song(it was about George W's ridiculous rise to power). Then, we formed the band and the name made sense the way Wilco makes sense. It's a name instead of sounding like a sports team or an obscure reference to some Hemingway novel. It fit six years ago and somehow has stuck the whole time. Plus, "Kathleen Turner Overdrive" was already taken.

Lollapalooza: Day 3

2011-05-20T20:06:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - August 31, 2010

Lollapalooza 2010 is in the bag. I’m a tired man, but had a blast. The festival is a strange musical animal—so much to do and see, it almost starts to feel like a banquet with way more great food than you could/should safely consume in one setting. Yet we munch on.

Sunday rounded out my Lolla experience nicely, with a couple of surprises, several music legend/celebrity sightings, and three performances so good that it seems almost criminal that they happened within several hours of each other.

Here’s my final recap and then I go into music festival remission . . . until September:

I rolled into the fest pretty late – not until around 2 pm – and missed my chance to see the Dodos again. I wasn’t super impressed by their set at Bonnaroo and hoped to give them a second go. I love their records. I heard Neko Case showed during their set making me all the more regretful. I was up most of the night before, though, so it just wasn’t in the cards. Next time, Dodos.

Band of Heathens: These guys play Champaign frequently and I’ve been meaning to check them out. I loved their set – more than the Truckers from Friday, actually, with whom they share a similar vibe. Great songwriting, amazing guitar work, tight vocal harmonies with lead responsibilities passed between songs. I won’t pass up another chance to support these guys when they come through town again. You shouldn’t either.

The Cribs: So Johnny Marr is currently playing with UK band The Cribs and I couldn’t pass up the chance to see him in the flesh. I’m a big Smiths fan, but haven’t really been into anything he’s done since (though the band name The The is about as cool as they come). I walked way over the (the) south end of the park and caught a few songs by the Cribs and watched Marr play a bit. Still not really a fan, but it was cool to see one of my guitar heroes. I know they’ve said they will never reunite, but can you imagine a Smiths reunion show at one of these festivals? Man oh man.

Mumford & Sons: Here’s a UK band worth getting excited about. Mumford & Sons started their set with this question: “Shall we have a dance together in the sun?” They played the hottest hour of the day to one of the most devoted crowds and we all sweat, clapped, danced, and sang along. They plowed through the best songs on this year’s Sigh No More, adding a hired Chicago horn section mid way through the set. There’s nothing like a band in the first year or so of its success: they seem so honest and so genuinely grateful for the audiences support and love. The road hasn’t left them jaded and weary quite yet. Marcus Mumford and his “sons” fit that space well. They play like they are at the beginning of something great, and in their case, they are.

Thenewno2/Perry Farrell: It’s Lollapalooza, so I thought it would be cool to see Mr. Lolla himself who was scheduled to make an appearance at the kids’ stage. I showed up on time, but the band scheduled before Farrell hadn’t yet taken the stage. Thenewno2… I recognized the name but couldn’t remember from where. They started playing, and again, the lead singer looked eerily familiar but it wasn’t until last night as I was laying in bed that I remembered who they were. Thenewno2 is Dhani Harrison’s band – as in George Harrison’s son Dhani. Wished I would have remembered when I was there.

Thenewno2 acted as Farrell’s backup band when he finally came out. His two song set was far and away the weirdest moment of the weekend. Recall that we are at the kids’ stage and there are several of them right up front. I don’t know what your real or imagined parenting philosophy is or will be, but the first song that Perry Farrell sang at the kids stage was his Porno For Pyro’s song “Pets” which happens to have two F-bombs in the first verse. Tacky. I’m not super anal about that kind of stuff, but I also don’t want it to be my kids who teach the bad words to the other kids on the playground. It was just plain bad form from a really weird dude. Oh, he also played the Velvet Underground’s “Sweet Jane.” That seemed a tiny bit more appropriate.

Erykah Badu: Her blonde mo-hawk matched up nicely with the Lolla vibe, but her lateness to the stage was 20 minutes longer than most of us had patience for. I caught the first two songs from Badu and wished immediately that I could see her in a more conducive atmosphere. I guess that’s all I’ve got here.

The National: I’m waxing a bit long in this here update (trying to relive the glory, I suppose). But The National’s set is worth more words than I can here provide. In the last year, Matt Berninger and his band of brothers have risen to the top of my list of favorite bands. I am completely taken by them and their dark candor and humor. The show the night before at the House of Blues was the best I’d ever heard, and the set at Lolla was darn near that. The set was toploaded with tunes from High Violet all of which Richie Reed Parry from Arcade Fire joined them on. Also of note, Matt announced that this would be the last show the band would play with long-time contributor Padma Newsome who would be settling in San Francisco. “He’s saved our asses more times than we can count and we don’t know what we’re going to do without him.” We’ll all miss you too, Padma.

Arcade Fire: I thought going into the weekend that I was going to see Soundgarden, but had the opportunity to see them on Thursday night at the Vic (you can read my review of the show over at American Songwriter in all of its grammatically unsound glory). The Arcade Fire show was absolutely insane, and SO much better than the Vic show was (and it was really good, too), so I’m glad that conflict was resolved. Music writers often get guff for their excessive adjective use, so here’s a few for you to chew on: revelry, jubilation, abandon, and all other adjectives related to the pending hipster apocalypse. Arcade Fire remind me of the band you might come across if you lived in one of Shakespeare’s tragedies and happened to be out walking in the woods. They’d be the ones dancing around the fire in the woods, beating drums.

I haven’t seen the New York videocast yet, but I heard it was a bit lacking for good sound. This was not the case at Lolla. The band sounded incredible and played a mixture of songs from all three of their albums. Highlights included, of course, “Neighborhood #3” and “Crown of Love” which they dedicated to the National, but the Suburbs tunes might have been the best songs of the night. They opened with “Ready to Start” (what an opener!) and by the time they hit “Month of May” late in the set, things on stage and in the crowd had become complete and utter mayhem. Evidence of the celebratory chaos was all around me. I’m surprised the couple to my left could even breathe for all their making out and, well, I was having a hard time breathing myself through the cloud of smoke that hung over us. Revelry, I tell you.

Seeing Arcade Fire live rounds out the most amazing year of music I've ever had, largely due to my association with Ryan and Muzzle of Bees. Thanks again Ryan, and congratulations on your wedding!

Lollapalooza: Day 2

2011-05-20T20:04:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - August 9, 2010

Day two at Lolla and I’m starting to feel it. Here’s a quick update:

I spent the morning wandering a bit. I caught a few songs each from Rogue Wave, Harlem, and Dragonette. Rogue Wave had a different vibe than I remember when I was listening to them three or four years ago– I dug it. Harlem, eh, not so much and Dragonette was cool enough if you're into the electronica and dig a good female vocalist.

Stars: I was a big fan of Set Yourself on Fire, and spent a good amount of time with In Our Bedroom After the War as well. But Stars kind of left me scratching my head with their Saturday afternoon performance. It started when Amy Millan kept yelling "It's all up to you, Lollapalooza!" The girl in front of me turned to her friend and said what I was thinking: "What's up to us?" So, that was kinda weird. The band sounded fine and played several songs from their both of the previously mentioned releases as well as their new record The Five Ghosts. There were roses tossed into the audience and confetti bombs, and lots of love given to the crowd. But here's the other thing that strikes me as funny about Stars, and maybe it's not that big of a deal. Torquil Campbell, the other co-leader of the band was born in England, raised in Canada, and speaks with a North American accent, which is to say, without an accent. But he sings with an English accent. Weird? Maybe not, but it just strikes me as strange -- especially when he's jabbering on stage about stuff and then starts singing like he's Martin Gore or something. As I write this, it seems petty. Jamie Lidell, an Englishman, sings with an American accent, so whatever.

Warpaint: I showed up for Dawes early and caught the tail end of Warpaint. I really liked what I heard. Warpaint is a four-piece, all-female group from L.A. with dark melodies, haunting harmonies, and heavy guitars. The drumming reminded me a bit of early Cure stuff and I wished I would have gotten there a bit earlier. My interest is piqued.

Dawes: If Stars had me questioning authenticity a bit, Dawes brought be back firmly on the ground. I've said a lot on this blog about my love for this band, so I will spare you more of that gushing. I will say that Dawes plays with more heart than any band I've seen this weekend (gush). They played nearly every song off of their album North Hills and all of the new songs they recorded at their recent stop in Rock Island with Daytrotter. It was fun to watch the crowd gather backstage to watch and sing along with Dawes' set -- members of Ed Sharpe's crew, Deer Tick, friends and girlfriends -- all who likely see the band play really often. That they were still singing and dancing tells me something about this band. Something very good. Dawes was my favorite of the day, but I knew they would be.

Grizzly Bear: From there it was over to the main south stage where Grizzly Bear had already begun their set. I settled in just in time to hear "Fine For Now" and "Two Weeks." They sounded great -- no surprise there. Out of complete random chance, I ran into Erik Ljung who shoots video frequently featured on MoB. That was fun. Grizzly Bear seem unable to do wrong, and their set was flawless. It was fun to finally see them.

Deer Tick: While they lack the charm of their pals Dawes, Deer Tick certainly isn't lacking for flavor. Lead-singer John McCauley took the stage in a matching shirt and shorts set that must have been purchased from the department store across the street from a retirement community. Throw in his straw hat and all-black strat and you've got yourself a cocktail that works as a pretty decent metaphor for the band. Cocksure and zany, Deer Tick won me over pretty quickly. One quick highlight: late in the set, Taylor from Dawes joined McCauley on stage and the two played "Daydreaming" a song by the two's other group, MG&V -- a collaboration between McCauley, Taylor and Griffin from Dawes, and Matt Vasquez from Delta Spirit (you can see the reason for the name if you look at those names carefully).

Spoon: I love Spoon. They were probably the band I was looking forward to most this weekend. When Britt Daniel took the stage dressed all in white, he looked smaller than I imagined him and played an acoustic "Me and the Bean," followed by "Nobody Gets me But You" from this year's Transference where things got big really quickly. The band ripped through an 18-song set with songs spanning most of the band's records and including "The Underdog" (with a great 4+ piece horn section), "Don't you Evah," "Written in Reverse" (probably my favorite of the set), and "You Got Yr Cherry Bomb." Also, they played a cooler-than-Wolf-Parade cover of Wolf Parade's "Modern World." It was great to see them -- they tired me out.

Phoenix: Seriously, though. After Spoon I started getting that I-must-have-been-hit-by-a-truck feeling. I hope you don't think less of me if I tell you that I've written most of this review with the balcony door of my buddy's apartment propped open, listening to Phoenix's set as it comes pouring across Michigan Ave. I'm pretty worn out, and will be headed out again in just a few minutes to catch the Antlers/National show at the House of Blues (which I will also be reviewing). I needed a breather, so forgive me if you are a fan and were hoping for a more detailed review. Here's what I know: They are from France. They sound great. I'm sure they looked fantastic as well (they are from France!), but I've been enjoying their set in relative peace while sitting on a couch. I feel like a wuss admitting that but it is what it is (Now I can hear Green Day's "American Idiot" wafting in... I saw about 100 kids wearing Green Day shirts today. Hope they had fun.)

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Sunday will offer up one more day of Lolla goodness. I'll know I'll be at Mumford and Sons, the rest is kind of up in the air. See you back out in the sun!

Lollapalooza: Day 1

2011-05-20T20:02:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - August 9, 2010

Grant Park was really lovely yesterday on the opening day of Chicago's biggest music festival. The sun was out, but not too hot (most of the day). The crowd seemed a bit more evenly dispersed with the new acreage that the Lolla folks have opened up; the food was tasty (gyros and giganto- truffle fries for me, thank you very much), and I still drank three liters of water. Oh, and the music...

Here's a quick rundown of my day:

Mavis Staples: I arrived at the north end of the park and into a swarm of dragonflies. They gracefully hovered just above the crowd gathered at the Budweiser stage and Mavis and her band played "The Weight." Seems a bit weird, huh? But it sounded fantastic. She was joined on stage a bit later by Jeff Tweedy (who, as you likely know, produced her upcoming record) who played acoustic guitar and back-up sang on John Fogerty's "Wrote a Song For Everyone" and also played back-up on the song he wrote for that new record, both of which are titled "You are Not Alone." Mavis is such a classy lady and it was fun to see Tweedy in this context -- she wished Jeff and his wife Susie a happy 15th anniversary. We all wished Mavis Staples a happy 60 years as a performer. What a career!

Drive-By Truckers: I caught about half of the Truckers' set and enjoyed what I heard. I still haven't arrived at fan status of this band -- I'm just not familiar enough with their catalog. But seeing the band today and watching them interact with their fans was a large stride in that direction.

The New Pornographers: Carl Newman is a great front-man, but I have a bit of a thing for Neko Case (who doesn't?), but as much as I like her solo work, I like her work with the NPs even more. They put on really great show yesterday, and Case didn't disappoint (though she did wear a big sun hat through most of the set that made it difficult to see her face). She and Carl Newman joked back and forth about Gaga, Dan Bejar drank beer after beer, and they played a great mix of New Pornos tunes ranging from opener "Sing Me Spanish Techno," to the new album opener "Moves." Other highlights included 2003's "Testament to Youth in Verse" and an amazing pair of interpreters for the hearing impaired. They seemed to know every word -- fascinating to watch.

Dirty Projectors: This is going to be the one that I remember for the rest of the year, I think. I've been a fan of Bitte Orca for a while now, but the record has stuff on it that I figured couldn't be reproduced live. I was so wrong. "Stillness is the Move" and "Temecula Sunrise" are complicated enough, but then the women in the band started doing this as the intro to "Remade Horizon." My mouth is still gaping. I read some bad press of this performance on a famous Chicago publication writer's blog, and I just flat out disagree. Not only did the harmonies during this performance mesh, but the band manages to do it while playing some of the most intricate guitar duets I've ever seen. To me, the complicated nature of the music is what makes it so amazing to see rather than just hear on the record. I will never pass up an opportunity to see these guys play again -- like I said yesterday via twitter, it was like being at a prog-rock choir concert.

Jamie Lidell: Every once in a while I come across an artist that I I can't believe I've never heard of because their work is such a perfect fit into my interests. Lidell fits that description perfectly. I've been jamming his records all week in prep for Lolla with exactly that thought. Lidell and his band take the best of Stevie Wonder's 70s funk and revitalize it, imbuing it with the modern sampling and laptop shenanigans that Lidell was first famous for. But looking like Jon Hamm with a beard and singing like he could have shared the stage with Mavis earlier, he had me absolutely captivated. A few songs in, and who should turn up? Pat Sansone! He doesn't get enough of an opportunity to shake that tambourine with Wilco, so did some for Lidell as well. He also played the melodica on a few songs and is credited with production of a few songs on Lidell's new record Compass. All this was to say that I am now a fan of Jamie Lidell. A big one. (oh, and also to say that I think its funny when Sansone shakes a tambo.)

The Strokes: Lady Gaga was the biggest draw on Friday. Evidence was everywhere. Girls with crazy hats, dudes in head-to-toe neon... it was a sight. It's estimated that over two thirds of Friday's attendees were Gaga-ing. I didn't even make it over to that side of the park. It's a long walk. The Strokes, regardless of the audience-split, put on a show. It was my first time seeing Julian Casablancas and his crew, and the first time anyone in America has seen the band play in something like four years. When the Strokes first hit it big, I was hesitant to jump on the band wagon -- there were too many copy-cat groups and it seemed like it was all happening too fast. It seemed like a fad and I didn't even listen to Is This It when it came out in 2001. Tragic, huh? A few years later I fixed all that -- repented of my rash and judgmental ways (and also by then, the wheat had been separated from the chaff, copy-band-wise). Last night The Strokes proved to me once and for all (the rest of the audience didn't need any convincing) that they are the real deal: Blistering guitar work; incredible vocal range and sound; perfect pop/rock tunes.

Here's the setlist:
New York City Cops / The Modern Age / Hard to Explain / What Ever Happened? / You Only Live Once / Soma / This is It / Vision of Division / I Can't Win / Reptilia / Last Nite /(encore:) Juicebox / Someday / Under Control / Heart in a Cage / Take it or Leave it

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Saturday should be great as well. I'm looking at Stars, Dawes, Grizzly Bear, Deer Tick, Spoon(!) and Phoenix as my must-sees. Let me know if there is anything else I can't miss.

Lollapalooza preview

2011-05-20T19:59:00.000-08:00

by Jon Stone | @jwstone - July 29, 2010

I’m off to Lollapalooza next weekend. I just can’t seem to get enough of being out in the sun and humidity for three and four days at a time, I guess. With Bonnaroo and Pitchfork under my belt, I’m excited to do a bit of comparison shopping. I was in Grant Park for Radiohead’s 2008 performance, and, if I remember correctly in addition to music, Lollapalooza seems to be about walking. The stages on either end of the park have to be at least a half-mile apart. So I will maybe turn in my flip-flops for some sturdy shoes this go around and see if I can have me a time.

Lolla always creates a bit of a problem in terms of headliners. It’s really a one-or-the-other kind of decision, since catching both bands means leaving one early and then being at the back of a massive crowd for your second choice. I don’t like that option. This year, it’s pretty easy (The Strokes over Gaga; Phoenix over Green Day) until Sunday night when Arcade Fire is playing at the same time as Soundgarden. I’m really (like, really) enjoying what I've heard of the new Arcade Fire record, but my sense is that I will get a chance to see them again. Who knows when Soundgarden, a band that I really loved in high school, will get desperate enough to reunite again. Plus with opportunities like this to see Arcade Fire from the safety of my own living room, I think I’m going to have to go with Chris Cornell. Seeing Kim Thayil play will be awesome though. I hope they play my favorite SG song, “The Day I Tried to Live.” So classic.

The rest of the festival is looking pretty good in terms of difficult choices. Things are spread out fairly nicely and I’m once again going to get the chance to see several several favorites again and a few that I’ve never seen before. Here’s my top ten (or so):

Grizzly Bear: I have not, of yet, had a chance to see Grizzly Bear play a full set. This will change. Since it’s been a while since Veckatimest came out, I’m hoping we’ll get new songs, reimaginings, and I know we’ll get some incredible jazz-pop jams and harmonies. They're the ones I'm looking forward to most.

Spoon: Same as above. I’ve been a fan for years, but have never made it to a show. Spoon’s new record Transferene has kind of gotten buried this year with so much other great new releases, but it remains one of my favorite albums of the year and I’m looking forward to the rock.

Dawes – Their Lolla set will mark the fourth time I’ll see Dawes this summer. They are my favorite new band, period, and if you haven’t yet heard them, well, this must be your first time visiting this blog.

The National – The National’s Bonnaroo set was incredible, but it just felt kinda strange seeing them out there in the broad daylight. Since the sun shines as bright in Chicago as it does in Tennessee, I’m sure the Lolla set will be equally hot and revealing, but it doesn’t diminish my excitement. High Violet is going to top a lot of folks' best-of-the-year lists, including mine. Any chance to see the National is a privilege worth relishing.

Mumford & Sons – Speaking of Bonnaroo, I’m still reeling from my front-row encounter with Mumford & Sons there. It was arguably the most chills-inducing, electric moment of the whole weekend. The Lollapalooza set is bound to be packed event as these guys have been selling out clubs across the States all year. I might not make it up front this time, but I will surely be in the crowd, sweating.

The Walkmen – When I saw the Walkmen play earlier in the year, I was amazed that they weren’t already superstars. I caught them on a tiny stage with a packed crowd and was super impressed by what they were throwing down. Amazing musicians of the National/Grizzly Bear caliber, those dudes. Their new record, Lisbon, drops in September. I can't wait to hear it.

The New Pornographers – As I write this, I realized that I haven’t yet listened to the new record from one of our best Canadian bands. Firing it up now and the first track, “Moves” sounds great! I'm very excited to see yet another one of my old favorites for the first time ever.

Dirty Projectors – As I look over my list so far, it occurs to me what an amazing festival it is going to be. The presence of Grizzly Bear and Dirty Projectors alone is cause for the explosion of some heads. I love bands that have that something that makes you lean forward to listen closer. I also love bands that, when you do that, reward you with dense and clever melodies that almost seem to make you sonically smarter. Dirty Projectors is surely one of the most critically acclaimed bands playing Lolla this year. I will be there, leaning forward.

I’m having a hard time boiling down two more bands for this top ten list. Instead I’ll offer a handful of bands that I’m looking forward to. Drive-by Truckers and Deer Tick are both bands that I constantly hear good things about whose music has eluded me for one reason or another. I’m hoping the live sets change that. Also I’m a big fan of great R&B. Lolla offers Mavis Staples and Erykah Badu in the genre. I'll be glad to see both and I only wish Sharon Jones was gonna be there too.

There are plenty here that I’m missing (and let's face it, my list is pretty conventional). I’m wondering, though, which bands you recommend—especially bands like Miniature Tigers who are just starting to gain steam.

Discuss: Drop a comment with bands I missed here that are going to be can’t-miss for you.

Review: Frontier Ruckus/Cary Ann Hearst - House of Blues

2011-05-20T19:56:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - Jul 17, 2010

Last week I reviewed the new record Deadmalls and Nightfalls by Michigan band Frontier Ruckus. I like the record and thought it would be fun to catch their show Thursday night in Chicago. So I did. It was a fun night -- we had family in town and I took my father-in-law (who is a wonderful musician/songwriter in his own right) to the show. He was so excited to be going to the House of Blues. So, despite the venue's kitsch, it made me excited that he was so excited; good times were sure to be had.

Good times were had. Frontier Ruckus employ interesting instrumentation: banjo, horns, the saw and even their straight-ahead percussion is interesting with those other instruments in the mix. The band is tight and at its best when they are kicked into uptempo songs like their new album opener "Nerves of the Night Mind." When the whole band is in full effect they have an intensity, as I mentioned in my record review, not unlike Mumford and Sons.

Their slower songs, for me, lack that power. My hang-up here is related to lead singer, Matthew Milia's, voice. It’s unique. And when competing in an ocean of bands, I recognize the importance of having a distinct vocal sound, so it’s with the disclaimer of my own personal taste (and with the hypocrisy of loving The Tallest Man on Earth yesterday at Pitchfork) that I say that Milia's voice isn’t my favorite. He has the kind of high nasal tenor that might have sounded perfect in a traditional bluegrass band (which isn’t far off from where they started) – its Ben Kwellery without the endearing southern drawl. These dudes are from Michigan after all.

That may seem harsh, but it doesn’t change my affinity for the band. These things have a way of growing on you. Here, though, is where I admit to one of the happy hazards of concert review: though I was there to review FR, my heart was stolen by the openers, Cary Ann Hearst and Michael Trent (click here for their collab site). The romantically-partnered, country/blues duo took the stage, started playing and had me grinning before they'd even finished a song. I love that. And maybe my vocal quality hang-up that I mention above was due to the fact that Hearst's voice was so incredible. She is equal-parts Loretta Lynn and Bonnie Raitt, and Trent, who closed the set with some of his own great songs, offered back-up as vocal harmony, percussion, and delta-blues lead guitar.

These are the kind of performances that are both surprising and confusing. I've already shown my surprise (and delight!), but the confusion is related to the crap-shoot that is the music industry. Why is it that Cary Ann Hearst -- an incredible vocalist and songwriter -- is struggling just to get her stuff out there at all while artists like Sharon Van Etton (also great, but I think Cary Ann is better) are playing Pitchfork? To fight the power, Hearst and Trent started their own label (Shrimp records) to release stuff because they can't get a deal. Anyway, at the very least, give their Myspace pages a listen and try to catch them next time they come through your town. Maybe they'll introduce you to their dog, Townes, who is on tour with them as well.

Review: Hum - Champaign's 150th Birthday

2011-05-20T19:54:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - July 13, 2010

In 1995 Lollapolloza was still two years from its demise as a touring festival and I was between my junior and senior years of high school waiting for a chance -- any chance -- to see my favorite new band that year, Hum, from the exotic and distant sounding town of Champaign, Illinois. They were to appear on the Lolla second stage that year and I bought a ticket for that show -- $55 dollars for a bill that really didn't have many bands that I was all that interested in. Yes folks, in 1995 I paid the equivalent of 11 hours of hard-earned minimum-wage money to see one little band from the Midwest play a 45 minute set.

The first time I heard Hum was on the radio (remember when that used to be, like, a normal thing?). I was driving to my first job in a crummy dollar movie theater in Tucson, Arizona. And, wow the first time that heavy chord in “Stars" hit it left an impression. . . “she thinks she missed the train to Mars, she’s out back counting…” BOOM. I was 17. It was like magic.

Ironically I don't remember much about that Lollapalooza show. I remember the Phoenix heat being nearly unbearable and I remember standing against the front row gate watching (and loving) The Roots who played right before Hum on the second stage. I remember it rocked. I met Matt Talbot briefly after the show and he signed the copy of the band's first major release Electra 2000 that I bought at the merch table because it wasn't available anywhere else. I also remember thinking it was funny that the band was wearing the exact same clothes as they had in their appearance on Conan the night before.

Hum filled a gap for me that summer. They were heavier than most the bands I was listening to at the time, but unlike other acts that were pushing the wall-of-distortion sound, Hum managed to be both approachable and melodic. This was a combination that other bands like Helmet (too frat-boy tough) or Tool (too scary) didn't quite get right. Matt and his band were unassuming but unapologetic. They didn't seem to be trying to fill a niche, yet filled one perfectly. They were skinny, nerdy looking, and played heavier than anything on Alternative radio. The skinny and the nerdy everywhere (i.e. me) bought their record and then bought Boss distortion pedals.

Fifteen years later (i.e. last Saturday night), I was in the crowd of a free reunion show in that less-exotic far away land of Champaign that I now call home listening again to Hum. They played loud and hard and even though neither me or Matt is that scrawny anymore, the sound and songs rang out, the crowd collectively bonged their head (that's half-way inbetween a head bob and a head bang), and we were all happy and 17 once more. Hum's headlining, Champaign 150th anniversary show was a great time. They played several songs off of that seminal '95 release You'd Prefer an Astronaut a smattering of tunes from 1998's Downward is Heavenward and even one or two from that afore mentioned first release. The highlight of the show was "Suicide Machine" a slow-burning melody-heavy song -- elements that epitomize what is/was best about Hum.

By the summer of 1995 the best of what the 90s had to offer was, arguably, over. Hum kept things alive and vibrant for a few moments longer by taking everything that was great about music that decade, turning it inside out, and pushing the distortion pedal as far as it would go. I was glad on Saturday night that my ears had a chance to ring again.

A special thanks to Will Boucher for the great front-row picture and setlist.

Frontier Ruckus :: Deadmalls and Nightfalls

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By Jon Stone | @jwstone - July 7, 2010

This year Bonnaroo presented a rare opportunity for me to see a number of my favorite bands play within a few days (and sometimes hours) of each other. Since there was so much happening of interest, it didn’t leave much time for taking in new music. One band that I regrettably missed was Frontier Ruckus. They hail from an unlikely Detroit and play music that should easily please fans of Mumford & Sons, Mountain Goats, and even Calexico.

The record is full of surprises; the first one is that connection to Calexico – a triumphant horn section gives the songs a melodic tension between the South and Southwest (might we call this tension Midwestern?), one foot in the cornfields and another in the desert. There is other surprising richness here including great instrumental layering – banjos, saloon piano, and I even noticed some exceptional saw playing on several songs. The lyrics and melodies here are equally layered. This is a great summer record, one with equal parts sun and rainclouds, and one not to miss.

I look forward to getting another chance to see this band play soon. If you’re in Chicago, you can see them on July 15th at the back porch stage at the House of Blues. Frontier Ruckus’s second album, Deadmalls and Nightfalls drops July 20th on Ramseur Records.

Review: Punch Brothers - Antifogmatic

2011-05-20T19:47:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - June 30, 2010

grass|roots ep. 5

I’m both fascinated and baffled by the Punch Brothers’ refusal to allow the music they make to be classified as bluegrass. I suppose that Chris Thile has been pushing that line since way back in Nickel Creek where the band took more of a “yes, but” approach. And while back then that "but" was aimed at securing Nickel Creek’s success as a pop band that played with traditional bluegrass instruments, Punch Brothers have pushed that same paradigm into as many different genres as to have made, in their eyes, the "but" no longer accurate.

I’m not so sure. To me it seems disingenuous and even slightly contentious to drive that hard line – to insist a separation from a tradition so rich and from one that the players in the band have such strong ties to. I suppose that Punch Brothers are making an important (to them) effort to break free of a tradition, and they must have important reasons for that. In fact, the only thing that allows for a bit of empathy is my own understanding and experience (and difficulty) with academic disciplinarity (I’m a grad student in an English department), which can sometimes feel like over-chaperoned school dance which, as you might imagine, often stifles creativity and "new moves" even as it demands them.

All of this is by way of introduction to Antifogmatic. On the new Punch Brothers record, Thile’s band’s does its best to meet that multi-genred challenge. In doing so the band presents a diverse collection of songs: each crafted with a slightly different aesthetic, but cohesive enough to hang together in surely the most concise and likely the most (commercially) successful Punch Brothers record to date. (I’m including 2006’s How to Grow a Woman From the Ground here. It was a Punch Brothers record even if, as banjoist Noam Pikelny joked during their Bonnaroo set, it was released under a different band name: “Chris Thile”.)

That cohesion is achieved by the band’s devotion to their acoustic instruments. That devotion, though, is also what makes the bluegrass distinction difficult to shake. The record was produced by the multi-talented John Brion (His list of production work is long, but my favorites are his work on Rufus Wainwright's eponymous debut and Fiona Apple's 1999 release When the Pawn...). Brion's goal was to get the sound of the record as close as possible to what he heard when he sat in the middle of the musicians while they played. I think he succeeds as each percussive tap and evocative pluck of the five instruments in play ring through giving the record a sound that highlights both its parts and the sum of those parts.

The concision on Antifogmatic is achieved, most notably, by the absence of a 40-minute, pseudo-classical piece (and in my opinion, masterpiece) that was the last record’s epic “The Blind Leaving the Blind.” The songs are mostly all healthy, four-minute affairs, but Antifogmatic conspicuously leaves the long instrumental (and technically mind-blowing) jams for the deluxe edition.

For me this album is a small step back for fans of the emotional powerhouse that was 2008’s Punch—it doesn’t delve nearly as deep into the depths and gutters of life’s toughest lessons like Punch did. But this, as I mention earlier, is probably the right move for the band to make. I argued in my review of Punch that Punch Brothers managed to be accessible despite their affinity for progressive playing, and while I think that was likely a misplaced argument to be making for that album, it fits perfectly for Antifogmatic. The new record should easily capture the attention of new fans with songs like the opening, Strokes-esque “You Are,” ballads like “Alex” and the barn stomping “Rye Whiskey” (which in recent episode of All Songs Considered, Bob Boilen himself mistook for a standard). Every song on the record is original, every song was written collaboratively, and even though the band gets billed as "Punch Brothers featuring Chris Thile" on their current tour, on Antifogmatic, Thile is clearly making room for the rest of the band.

So the question remains, bluegrass or no bluegrass? Well, give a listen to another album standout “Next to the Trash” in which the Punch Brothers move seamlessly (as they so often do) between at least three genres. I think it really just boils down to generational traditions. If you try to lump these guys in comfortably with the last 50 years of bluegrass musicians, you just can't. But for me in 2010, this is how the best bluegrass sounds. This is the future.

Buy: Punch Brotheres - Antifogmatic

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I can't resist posting this video of the boys playing "Cry, Cry Darling" with another favorite of mine, Sarah Jarosz, backstage at Bonnaroo. Enjoy.

Elsinore at Summerfest + exclusive Chemicals remix

2011-05-20T19:45:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - June 21, 2010

Champaign's Elsinore is on the brink. Their album Yes Yes Yes arrives, finally, in August. Finally because it's been a long time coming. The band has been sitting, patiently, on the finished material for at least a year: waiting for the right label, the right moment, and touring incessantly in the meantime. That label has been selected (Parasol) and that moment has almost arrived. Yes Yes Yes will be worth the wait. All the touring has conditioned the band into top form making each of their live shows an opportunity not to be missed.

Now is your chance.

They're headed up to Milwaukee for Summerfest this week and will be playing in WMSE's event (on the Cascio Interstate Music Groove Stage) in front of Collections of Collonies of Bees on Thursday night. I just can't imagine a scenario where your making the effort to see them would end in disappointment. Elsinore is disappointment proof. Here, let me prove it: The good guys in the band have provided Muzzle of Bees readers with an exclusive remix of their song "Chemicals."

My formula for good pop music isn't very complicated. It's gotta get me tapping my foot a bit; it has to be singable, and it has to be interesting enough to have at least one moment where I'm thinking: "Wow. How do they do that?" So with Elsinore, well, I guess I should just say that this is one of the most compelling examples of good pop music that I've heard in a while

Bonnaroo: final thoughts & photos

2011-05-20T19:42:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone - June 16, 2010

As promised, I'm back for one more Bonnaroo related post. Looking back on the my previous recaps and comparing them with other Bonnaroo related stuff from around the web, it looks as though more textual information probably isn't required. So I'll leave you, instead, with this collection of my snapshots and a video that captures more the excitement of a moment than it does display any shred of cinematographic talent (or a quality recording device, for that matter). Check out the Avett Brother's doing "Laundry Room" at their special Chase Freedom lounge performance (and the setlist) below.

Oh! -- there is one last thing. I failed to mention seeing a set from Lissie late on Saturday night. I think she's gonna be big. She has a huge voice -- a Bonnie Raitt to Brandi Carlile's Melissa Etheridge -- and plays a mean (and loud) guitar. She's touring the UK right now, and her album will drop there before we get it, but her performance now has me looking forward to that date, whenever it is.

Distraction #74 / Laundry Room / Paranoia in B-Flat Major / January Wedding / Down With A Glistening Shine / Gimmeakiss (I think) / Signs / Love Like the Movies / The Fall / Pretty Girl From Cedar Lane

[gallery orderby="ID"]

Sunday at Bonnaroo

2011-05-20T19:40:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - June 15, 2010

I've been home from Bonnaroo for a good 24 hours and am only just starting to feel like a normal human being again. Granted my back still aches, my feet still hurt, and I am still in a haze thinking about the long weekend of amazing music, sweltering heat, and general debauchery that was the 4-day fest. To say that I had a great time would be an understatement. To say that I am glad to be home -- also putting it lightly.

Despite all that heat and sweat, I can honestly say it was the best musical experience that I have yet had and, as I have said in previous updates, a large percentage of my favorite bands played the fest so it was incredible to hear them in succession, often one directly following the next. That just doesn't happen in a regular concert dimension. Bonnaroo is an alternate musical dimension in every sense of those words.

Sunday

The last day of the fest was fairly laid back. We packed up our stuff and wandered around the grounds catching a few songs from Ingrid Michaelson, Monte Montgomery and Japandroids (none really keeping my boat afloat, though Montgomery really plays that guitar). I caught most of Calexico's set and look forward to spending more time with their catalog this summer. Though I grew up in Tucson, AZ, Calexico was completely off my suburban radar in the 90s. Hearing them play both made me miss the desert, and pine after a less-conventional teenage musical pallet.

Later, we wandered a bit more and saw a few songs each from alt-country darlings Lucero, jazz greats (with stoner appeal) Medeski Martin & Wood, piano-pop princess Regina Spektor, CCR patriarch John Fogerty, and country legend Kris Kristofferson. How's that for a schizophrenic mixtape?

We closed off the Bonnaroo experience by watching most of the set from They Might Be Giants. For us it was the perfect closer. John Flansburgh and John Linnell were cheesy, silly, and not just a tad over-the-top. After four days in the sun, can you think of a better formula for smiles? TMBG have been making music for a LONG time together -- 26 years long, incredibly -- and it shows. In addition to the above mentioned traits they are also consummate professionals, and master song-smiths. To be honest, I've listened to them more in the last five years since I've had kids than I ever did before, but with albums like "Here Come the ABCs" and last months "Here Comes Science," they make the often-intolerable kid tunes genre enjoyable (with only Dan Zanes doing a better job, I think). We bounced along to "Particle Man" and "Istanbul (not Constantinople)," and when they started shooting big gobs of confetti into the audience, it felt like our party was coming to a tired but happy conclusion.

So there you have it. I can't thank Ryan enough for giving me the opportunity to cover the fest for the blog. I'll never forget the experience. Tomorrow I'll post some final thoughts and try to get some of my pictures up (though you can find some really great picture sets here and here as well).

Saturday at Bonnaroo

2011-05-20T19:37:00.002-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - June 13, 2010

Saturday at Bonnaroo is all about endurance. And pace. And, if you can get it, a bit of rest. I would say that around 5% of the folks here follow those important rules of thumb (which is to say I saw a lot of people passed out today. At 1pm). If Friday was a day of sampling, Saturday was a day of full sets, and I was lucky enough to find most of what I was interested in happening in one place. The fatigue is setting in, so I’ll be as brief as I can (with promises that with Sunday’s report -- coming Monday! -- to offer some final words on the fest once it has had some time to sink in).

Before parking my aching bones in That Tent for the day, I had a few stops to make:

11:45 – Dawes: I’m quickly becoming a groupie, aren’t I? We showed up early for the Sonic Stage set. I stood on the front row, sung along to every word, frequently yelled “Griffin!” during the set, hoping the drummer would notice me. I’m only kind of kidding. The set was similar to last night’s with a John Prine song thrown in to honor the performance from JP later that day. All day I told everybody who would listen about Dawes. I’m obsessed.

12:55 – The Avett Brothers: Remember that Chase Freedom lounge place I was talking about in the last update? Yesterday the Avett Brothers played that little tent for a handful of fans. It was a very rare opportunity to see one of my favorite bands in what could have easily been my front room. They played their way through a nice eleven-song set and I was charmed, once again, and my brother is their newest fan.

1:55 – Brandi Carlile: After the Avett’s I began my four hour residency in That Tent for what turned out to be a wonderful, indeed, historic afternoon. Carlile got us warmed up. This was my first time hearing her play live and while my tastes are more in line with the kind of stuff Jill Andrews was playing yesterday, Brandi’s songwriting and swagger were great to hear. She has some very devoted fans; several women, I noticed, were crying through some of the numbers.

3:15 – Dave Rawlings Machine: Dave and Gillian Welch are two of my favorite artists, hands down. Seeing them, regardless of who’s material they are focusing on, is a privilege and I was very much looking forward to their set. I should also add that Rawling’s record has been one I’ve played more than most over the last year. Though it took me a while to figure it out, the rest of the “Machine” was filled out by members from Old Crow Medicine Show, who, during “Sweet tooth,” would engage in some synchronized dancing. The band played some great songs, highlights for me included the epic “Method Acting/Cortez the Killer” and the appropriate-for-Bonnaroo “To be Young (is to be sad, is to be high).” Gillian also played “Miss Ohio.”

5:00 – Mumford & Sons: This was the historic part of the afternoon. It began when the major-buzzing English bluegrass (for lack of a better designation) band took the stage. We were already close to that stage since we’d been there for so long, but people packed in to see M&S. I was a little turned off by the huge fan influx, to be honest. That little too-cool-for-school voice in my head wondered what the big deal could be (this, even after loving their record – suppressing that inner hipster is tough sometimes. I’m not proud of these thoughts). The major question I had, and I think it is a legitimate one, was this: does band deserve the hype it was getting? I had to wonder and I kept wondering until about halfway through the first song of the set. It only took that long. I’ll spend some more time talking about why I think that M&S deserves every bit of hype that they are getting when I have a few more minutes than I have now, but I will say now that Mumford and Sons is a band well beyond the years of its young members. I hope they will be around for a long time. The last two songs was a big hootenanny of Dylan’s “Wagon Wheel” and an Old Crow song with a name that evades a the moment (so bad without the internet for these details, folks.)

Here’s the rest of my night in a few words: I stayed in That Tent for about half good ol’ John Prine’s set. Ran into Taylor from Dawes again (who is a big fan). Tried to repress the urge to hug him. Wandered away in a daze. Tried to get into the press seats for Stevie Wonder. Realized I was not even close to cool enough for that. Regardless, however, I had the time of my life (and I’ve never felt this way before) watching Stevie play some of my favorite songs of all time (“Signed, Sealed, Delivered,” “Sir Duke,” & “Living for the City”). I was told by the woman in front of me that I was singing loudly but that she liked it (a passive aggressive move, I think). And, most significantly, I think, had a moment watching Stevie Wonder – Stevie Wonder – play the harmonica during “For Once in My Life” where I had to fight the tears and pinch myself.

Great day.

Tomorrow I’ve got Calexico and Lucero on the agenda with the intention to pop around a bit to see what I can see. We have to leave a bit early tomorrow so I can make it back to teach a class on Monday (Summer session starts at the U of I!), but will look forward to catching Phoenix at Lolla later in the summer.

Friday at Bonnaroo

2011-05-20T19:34:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - June 19, 2010

Day two here in Manchester was absolutely fantastic. I think on Friday, everyone starts finding a groove, figures out how to navigate the farm, makes a couple of friends, and – if the typical Bonnarooian is anything like me, hears some favorites on stage. Today three of my favorite bands – played. Almost back to back. I have a feeling I’ll be talking about much of what happened today for a long time—meeting both Bob Boilen (of NPR Music’s All Songs Considered) and Matt Berninger (of the National), for example. Incredible. What a day.

One thing I stressed a lot about before getting here was coping with missing bands because of conflicts. While this is an inevitability, Bonnarro is set up much better than other festivals I’ve been to (Lollapollooza, Newport Folk) to bounce between stages. It’s a little like a live mixtape, or deli tray or whatever– you can hear a few She & Him songs, for example, and be on your way to hear the National. No big loss. And it’s only a five minute walk from one place to the next. Catching one or two songs of a band is sometimes a perfect introduction.

Here’s a quick rundown, of who I heard and what I thought on Friday:

11:30 – Dr. Dog: acoustic set in the press tent. I kind of stumbled into this, as Dr. Dog played for the press assembled for an orientation. They played three or four songs on acoustic guitar, banjo, and steel resonator. Suitcases were banged on with floor pedals and, I think, they made fans of everyone there as soon as they opened their mouths to sing the first three-part harmony chorus. It was my first time seeing them, and that was surely the case for me.

12:00 – Trombone Shorty: As I mention above, sometimes Bonnaroo is best approached as a sampler – I caught the opening song as I walked from the press area to what would be the bluegrass tent for much of the day. Funky! Great horns (that’s the whole point, right?), really groovy wah-wah guitar, and I was dancing as I made my way past.

12:15 – Punch Brothers: Chris Thile’s band is my favorite bluegrass act playing right now, and probably in my top five favorite bands period. Thile has great stage presence –quipping easy one-liners between songs and what a crowd! I loved that there was so many fans there – we nearly filled the tent. They played songs off of all three records and drew heavily from their new record Antifogmatic (which comes out Tuesday and is great, by the way). The best thing about Punch Brothers is that they make technical and masterful playing look spontaneous. The set also included several covers, including “Reptilia” from the Strokes and Radiohead’s “Morning Bell.”

1:20 – Jill Andrews: I missed Jill Andrews when she came through Champaign and immediately regretted it. She played a small stage under a tent, café style with tables and chairs and presented the perfect moment to sit, chill out a bit and eat my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Jill offers a lovely combination of country infused folk, and I can’t wait until her first record. I couldn’t wait so much that I picked up her EP on my way out the tent.

3:00 – Punch Brothers pt. II: Sorry—I can’t get enough of these guys and jumped at a chance to see them playing again at the smaller “Sonic” stage. It ended up being an ironic name because the set was marred with audio difficulties, forcing the band to gather old-time like around a single microphone in the middle. They didn’t play any repeats, and I was lucky enough to hear them play their version of Radiohead’s “Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box” – and while the sound problems kept it from sounding as good as it could have, I am still amazed at the way they imitate all those Thom Yorke percussive taps and pops with various parts of their acoustic instruments. Brilliant.

4:00 – Hot Rize from the Chase Lounge: My brother has access to this little non-descript tent they’re calling the Chase Freedom Lounge. It’s for Chase card-holders only and they pipe in video feed from two stages, have lemonade, computers, clean bathrooms – it’s a freaking oasis. We sat and watched Sugar Hill’s incredible veterans of bluegrass joke and jibe their way through a country/bluegrass set . . . in the air conditioning. It almost felt like a sin. Almost.

4:30 – Dr. Dog, regular set: I was so impressed by the earlier set from Dr. Dog that I was anxious to see them again. Their main-stage set ended up being completely different than the morning stuff and showed the versatility of this really great band. I really enjoyed the dirty rock sound countered with sweet Hammond organ and great vocal sound, from both lead singers. I came to Bonnaroo having listened casually to Dr. Dog and will leave excited to see them again and explore their records more intently. This is what festivals should do.

5:00 – She and Him: I really just wanted to catch a glimpse of Zooey and Matt before moving across the farm to get a good spot for the National. They had the biggest crowd assembled that I had yet seen, and I think that this is due to both Zooey’s star power/name recognition, but also to the relative universal appeal of her sunshiny pop. When she (and him) came out she danced through their first song and I was glad that brings a decent presence to her stage, rather than just standing and singing. (It would be great if M. Ward shows up somewhere else today or tomorrow playing, but I doubt it’s gonna happen)

5:45 – The National: Wow, what a set. The crowd wondered out loud if Matt would take the stage as per usual in a suit. When he came out wearing a dress vest, we grinned. It came off after the second song. We grinned again. The National is tough to sum up in a little log blurb like this, so here are a few highlights:

Matt found his way into the crowd on three separate occasions.
He tossed his wine glass to the audience early in the set, only to ask for it back, fill it again and then supervise its return to the person who caught it.
They played a long set, covering songs from their entire catalog with a healthy chunk coming off of High Violet.

It was a great show. Love that band.

7:30 – Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers: I tweeted about how crazy it was to go from the National to Steve Martin. Only at Bonnaroo could such emotional sonic opposites be encountered within minutes of each other. It was fun to see Steve Martin, to play along with his shtick, and enjoy his amazing back-up band. Martin can really play that banjo (it’s not just a gimmick! The Grammy was [probably] justified!]. At one point he talked about how he’s shooting a moive with Jack Black right now and then Jack Black himself, fresh off his Tenacious D set, stuck his head out from back-stage. The crowd went nuts.

8:30 – Dawes: And the awesome music just kept coming. Dawes blew me away once again. Instead of playing to a crowd of Edward Sharpe fans like they were last week when I saw them, this time they were playing to a small but intensely devoted group of their fans. It made such a difference. Everybody was singing along, dancing, and having an amazing time. They closed the set with a really sweet song with the repeated refrain, “I’ve got a feeling it’s gonna be alright” and brought out members of the Magnetic Zeros for support. Notably, Jade and Taylor sang the chorus arm in arm. It was awesome. Dawes is very quickly becoming my favorite band of the moment and I make no apologies for going to see them again today in about an hour on that same small Sonic stage I mentioned before.

After Dawes I made my way back to the camping area to get some dinner, get cleaned up, and sit down for a while. Kings of Leon played a set to what was surely most of Bonnaroo and I was, frankly, happy to miss it.

We went back at midnight to see the Black Keys, and watched about half of their set. It was alright. I love that huge guitar sound, but – and this comes after spending several weeks listening to the records almost exclusively – the set got a bit repetitive and after being wowed by Dawes and the National, it was tough to stick around. We wandered a bit more, saw the massive (and I mean massive) crowd assembled to watch the Flaming Lips spectacle and made our way back to crash. What a day.

Today is going to great too. Hoping to catch Mumford & Sons, a bit of the Avett Brothers, Dave Rawlings Machine(!), and of course the mighty Stevie Wonder. Here we go!

Thursday at Bonnaroo

2011-05-20T19:33:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - June 11, 2010

After getting off to a rough start (unprecedented line wait in the car – mine ended up being exactly ten hours -- 8:30am-6:30pm), the sun eventually went down and Bonnaroo 2010 kicked off in earnest. Yesterday ended up being a bit of a wandering day for me, I sampled as much as I could and, after not sleeping the night before due to the all-night drive in from Champaign, I was in a bit of a daze anyway, so wander was about all I can do. (Another press guy just told me that I got pwnd by the cops by getting diverted into the main line. Apparently there was a press entrance. I don’t even want to think about it though. I had the experience of THE PEOPLE!) Here is a quick rundown of what I saw yesterday:

7:00pm: Sarah Jarosz – I’ve said a lot about Sarah here on the blog before. I’m enchanted by her sweet poppy bluegrass and hearing her set after my horrible day in my non-air conditioned car was so sweet. She played her way through a few of my favorites from the record, and threw covers from Patti Smith (“Long Black Limousines”) and Bob Dylan (“Ring them Bells”). I’m gonna see about an interview with Sarah here later today, so we’ll see how that goes.

7:30pm: Local Natives – I popped over to hear the Local Natives just in time to hear my favorite song on the record “Who Knows Who Cares.” It was my theme song of the day. Those harmonies were so sweet. I can’t wait to see them again soon.

8:00pm: me wandering around looking for food. Getting lost deep back stage, and almost inadvertently walked off site.

9:00pm: Dodos – I rocked these guys a bunch in the car in line. The large Bonnaroo stage seemed a bit much for these guys, though. Several times, the beat was lost, muddled, or just plain dropped by the drummer. They play frequently in Champaign, though, so I’ll look forward to that.

10:15pm: Blitzen Trapper – Man, these guys are good live. So pristine, with vocal harmonies so tight they are nearly crystalline. The set included favorites off of Furr as well as the great new record, Destroyer of the Void.

11:40pm: The xx – They left us waiting for about a half hour after set time, but The xx did finally emerge from the light. It was cool – yeah, heavy on the cool. As an aficionado of early records by the Cure, I should like this band more. But, meh. I’d much rather see this band again in a club. So, yes, meh for now. Plus, wow was I tired.
For the rest of the night, my brother and I wandered around the grounds, stopped in to hear a bit of Lotus, watched the ravers at the rave stage (whatever it’s called), and tried to see hip hop act WALE. But WALE was almost 30 minutes late starting, so we left and I slept.

Today is going to be amazing. I’ve got the Punch Brothers, Dr. Dog, the National, Dawes, Steve Martin, and the Black Keys on my list on bands not to miss. More tomorrow!

Review: Dawes & Edward Sharpe - The Vogue (Indy)

2011-05-20T19:31:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - June 9, 2010

Both Dawes and Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros will be performing at Bonnaroo this year. I'll be in Manchester to witness the action and will be reporting on my experiences on Muzzle of Bees over the next several days. If you're going to be there, drop a comment with your can't-miss bands. If you're on twitter, include your twit-handle in your comment so I can keep up on your perspective of the fest. Follow my tweetshere. Hope to run into you there!

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Late last year I gathered my wife and young and departed on an epic three-day voyage across praire and desert. From Midwest heartland back into the bosom of our Sonoran desert homeland. It was a lonely and arduous trip with infreqeunt stops at fastfood playlands as they sprung up like oases along the freeway.
All along our journey we had Dawes.

During that trip, Dawes became our road music. My wife Tina fell in love with the record over those three days and even my kids would ask for and then sing along with "When You Call My Name." So, needless to say, we are fans.
Last night Dawes opened for Edward Shapre & the Magnetic Zeros at the Indianapolis venue The Vogue. Their music again became a family affair as this time I surprised my wife with the show for our anniversary (which was also yesterday). All the way from Champaign to Indy, she only knew I was taking her to a show and that it was going to blow her mind.

It did. Dawes did not disappoint. They played through a good portion of their record North Hills and sprinkled several new songs into the set. One, called "Fire Away" was announced by lead-man Taylor Goldsmith as a song about "how to stay friends with folks even when they aren't acting right." It was a highlight of the set -- it started simply, almost conventionally, but kept on building into a mind-blowing guitar solo and then modulated again into a repeating refrain sung by the drummer, Taylor's younger brother, Griffin. Another new song "If I Wanted Someone" was also played late in the short hour-long set. After the show, I had a quick conversation with Taylor at the merch table. He said that they are hoping to record a new album soon and are looking at a release sometime in 2011. It can't come soon enough.

Edward Sharpe, the pseudonym of Alex Ebert, was the reason that most of the folks were there. And with ten members on the stage, they were a force to be reckoned with. They took the stage in full gypsy regalia -- all beards, scarfs, and smiles. And played an interesting set. Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros are strongest when the band all seems to be working hard to add to the sound. In other words, the less tambourines on stage, the better. (And wow, do they have some serious tambo action going -- one monster is at least the circumference of a floor tom.). And the eclecticism(!) -- one moment, the band feels as Arcade Firey as they possibly could but the next they are playing with a distinctly Latin flare. Other songs, "Carries On," for example, move into 60s soul territory. With such a large band, you'd hope that the diversity of membership would have this resulting musical eclecticism. This they had in droves.

As familial as the band claims to be, for me, that sentiment comes across as a bit cliquish on stage. Long pauses between songs while the band talks ("discussions on physics", Ebert joked at one point), strange play-acting from my favorite member of the band, Jade Castrinos, during her tribute song "Jade" (is she really timid and embarrassed about the attention levied on her during that song? Doesn't she hear it every night? And how about a solo album, girl?), and other stuff seemed -- to me -- to say that while yes, we are family and we love each other and pull our tour caravan over often to twirl together in fields, we aren't accepting new members.

They are accepting admirers, though, and wow was the crowd packed with them. With songs like "40 Day Dream," and the amazing "Home" the band is nothing if not crowd pleasing.

My final thought on the night boils down to a question of earnestness. Dawes wears their earnestness on their sleeve -- they can't help it. And perhaps it's their youth or their on-the-brink-of-big-success ardor but it's implicit in the words and music and isn't lost on even the youngest audience (my kids). Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros make their earnestness a more explicit affair. But songs about "Home" and rouccous love-ins make me feel less home than a sweet tune about That Western Skyline.

Review: The Black Keys - Brothers

2011-05-20T19:29:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - June 3, 2010

I read something recently that called the new Black Keys record blues for the 21st century. I'd agree. Blues, to be good, has to be almost bridal: it has to have something old, something new, something borrowed, and, well, something blue. Think of your favorite blues records and I bet you'll be able to hear those elements. For me, it doesn't get better than B.B. King's Live at the Regal and Exile on Main Street's recent rerelease reminds us that the Stones were best (like Zepplin) as a dirty blues band -- and that they were supurb borrowers. Since seeing The Black Keys play a few songs from the back of the huge crowd at Lolla in 2008, I've moved from a passive admirer of the band to a full fledged fan. I think, more and more, that they get that formula right.

Like those old greats, the Black Keys' Brothers is also dirty. And like all classic blues, it's riff heavy with stark and evocative lyric cycles. But this one's gots Danger Mouse production* and with that production comes the eclecti-pop sensibility of a Danger Mouse joint. The man is a force. It's almost like he can take that dirty (which is good, as mentioned, but less widely accessible) and sell it to the masses. He dials Brothers into a place where it can sell 73,000 units in its first week. Which it did.

Despite Mouse's magic, I think what makes Brothers a great record is the same thing that makes The Black Keys a great band: the dialectic of Patrick Carney's sexy, restrained drumming and Dan Auerbach's disarming, soulful voice. Throw in consistently interesting and rock/bluesy guitar melodies (See "Ten Cent Pistol" or "Next Girl"), and I'm not so sure we need to overemphasize the Danger (I'm thinking of you whistle intro on "Tighten Up").
The Black Keys are on my top five list of bands not to miss at Bonnaroo next week. Like many, I'm hoping that we get some a bit of collaboration from some of the fest's great hip hop acts during their midnight set on Friday night. See you at That Tent.

*As our astute commenter points out, DM only produces the one track ("Tighten Up") and a little bit more homework reveals my second paragraph up there fits better in a description of Attack and Release where Danger Mouse deserves full album production credit. Yes folks, those first week numbers can really only be credited to the band themselves. They deserve it.

Review: Band of Horses - Infinite Arms

2011-05-20T19:27:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - May 31, 2010

If 2007 hadn't been so gigantic musically, Band of Horses' Cease to Begin could have easily been the best album of the year. Nearly every song on the band's sophomore release is memorable and remains one of my most revisited records. Cease to Begin succeeds because it kept the band's now-trademark sunny sound of the debut (2005's Everything All the Time) but expanded on it with both increased sonic variety and, most importantly, with great, catchy melodies. Need a refresher? How about "Is There a Ghost". Remember now?

This month the band released Infinite Arms and I wish I could say that it was as consistent. It's good, quite good, even. You hope, though, when a band jumps off a label like Sub Pop and onto one like Columbia that you won't be able to hear it on the record. Or, conversely, that you will because an increased budget will mean more time to let things develop and distill. I think you get a bit of this during Infinite Arms's lush midsection: "Blue Beard", "Way Back Home" and "Infinite Arms" stretch out, breathe deep, and will make for perfect, lazy, summer jams this year ("Trudy" a bit later, has this same affect). I'm afraid, however, that the label change in addition to frequent line-up changes over the last few years has left Ben Bridwell and crew playing it safe rather than pushing it forward.

I'm not giving up on this band, though. Like I said earlier, I think this record is, if nothing else, a great summer album. Bridwell's voice is so good and you can bet it's going to be pouring out of my front door often this summer while I sit on my porch watching the kids ride bikes and eat a hundred popsicles.

Bonnaroo countdown...

2011-05-20T19:25:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - May 18, 2010

Bonnaroo is less than a month away. And while this isn't the first year Muzzle of Bees has covered the festival, it is the first time that I've covered it for Muzzle of Bees. In fact, this is my first time ever heading down to Tennessee for the epic four-day sun and dirt fest and I'm excited. I have a (large) handful of bands and artists that I'm looking forward to seeing. But still no schedule! There have been rumblings about why it has taken so long to come out. It isn't typical procedure for it to be this late in May with no schedule announcement. With the Flaming Lips' Steven Drozd in the hospital, rumors are flying as to whether his recovery before the festival is going to happen -- and if, perhaps, the delay is due to the question marks surrounding that situation.

With no schedule, we're left piecing together the days bands are playing from their individual websites. Here are the bands I'm most excited about on the days they're playing.

First, the National's website has them at Bonnaroo Friday, Saturday, AND Sunday. I so hope that's true. Also,Jill Andrews, who you'll remember from our feature a few weeks back, is scheduled to play every day. Awesome.
Here's the rest -- and here's to hoping that there aren't many conflicts:

Thursday: Sarah Jarosz, Local Natives, The Dodos

Friday: Punch Brothers, Dawes, Carolina Chocolate Drops, Steve Martin & the Steep Canyon Rangers, Dr. Dog, She & Him, Trombone Shorty and Orleans Avenue

Saturday: Stevie Wonder, Jay-Z, The Avett Brothers, Dave Rawlings Machine, Mumford & Sons, John Prine, Brandi Carlile

Sunday: Calexico, Lucero, Kris Kristofferson, Medeski Martin & Wood

For those of you going this year, who are you looking forward to seeing most -- and who am I missing here? What are some tips you can give a first timer? Guilty pleasures? You'll be seeing me at Weezer -- for old time's sake -- unless they play during Stevie Wonder. Can't miss this.

Summer in CU - Santah @ Canopy Club - Urbana

2011-05-20T19:23:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - May 11, 2010

[deep breath] Can you smell it? It’s summer. And it’s coming. This is a big relief for me. Champaign-Urbana in the summer is really nice. The town kind of empties out, barbecue smoke curls into the air from backyards, summer food and music festivals start up; it really is a cool place to be.

Summers generally mean lots of chances to hear CU’s amazing local talent. This summer will be no exception. We have a ton of amazing artists currently working, from bands already garnering national attention like Headlights and (we hope) Common Loon to those on the cusp of that attention like Elsinore, You and Yourn, and New Ruins. And since CU is still a relative newcomer to the MoB community, I thought it would be nice to highlight some of the reasons I think we have something special happening down here and also encourage you to support some of this talent as it makes its way up north to Chicago and Wisconsin. Be watching for CU oriented posts -- tagged “Summer in CU” -- over the next few months.

—

Another band-on-the-cusp is Urbana’s five-piece Santah. Consisting of a strong cast of musicians from the university community (creative writing and musicology grads among them), Santah celebrated the release of their debut record White Noise Bed with a large crowd of local support at Canopy Club last night. They recorded the album at Pieholden Studios, which, as you likely know, was Jay Bennett’s studio and is still maintained by his friend Matt DeWine.

I’ve seen this band on posters almost the whole time I’ve lived in Champaign. I have to admit an initial reticence regarding the name. Santa? (They only just recently added the “h” at the end). Like the jolly Christmas dude? Was it ironic? comedic? Was it just more youth hipster culture stuff that I am slowly understanding less and less?
It took me almost three years before I saw them play. I’m so glad I finally did. Almost immediately Santah dispels any question marks about the name. And, I probably won’t be the first person to make the connection that the one major thing that this band has in common with the fat elf is happiness — jolliness even. Seriously, take a minute to think band first-impressions. You know that crucial moment when a band tries to establish some kind of stage presence: be it bearded boredom; aloof, detached coolness; or, to be fair, genuine “thank-you-so-much-for-having-me” relief… It’s an important moment. When Santah takes the stage, the very first thing you’ll notice is lead-man Stan McConnell’s wide and authentic grin. That smile draws you in immediately… and then you notice that the rest of the band is smiling too.

This unfeigned happiness ends up being the undercurrent of the band’s sound. Santah’s live performance has a kind of “everything is gonna be all right” emotional honesty — and it shows up on the record too. Stan’s younger sister Vivian lends her back-up vocals and acoustic guitar playing to that sound and I always enjoy great keys playing, which they have as well. While the sound is unique enough, the band could fit in comfortably with My Morning Jacket or Band of Horses fans. They also have a punch not unlike two bands that I noticed were played between sets: the Local Natives and Delta Spirit. All in all, I think that this is a band to watch. They’ve put in the time it takes to congeal, recorded a great first record and now it will be your pleasure to see them in your town sometime soon. I promise.

Santah will begin touring extensively this fall. And, as bassist Otto Stuparitz joked with me before the set, “there will be snakes and garden hoses! and you won’t be able to tell the difference! -- and confetti! lots of confetti! Oh -- and dudes with haircuts where the hair comes down and covers one eye. But only one eye.”

There actually won’t be any of that, of course, but I can promise you smiles.

—
As I said, stay tuned in the coming months as we feature a few other local CU acts. We already have something exciting in the works with Elsinore (who recently made Boing Boingwith a dispute over their proposed album art for their upcoming August release), and will end the summer with what is sure to be an amazing reunion of the band Hum. In 1996, I went to Lollapalooza just to see them, so I’m excited to see them again almost 15 years later (for free!) during Champaign’s 150th anniversary celebration later in the summer!

Review: Barnstormer III - Kalyx Center- (Monticello)

2011-05-20T19:20:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone - May 1, 2010

Last night was a night of firsts for me: First time out to Allerton, a quaint little nature and art preserve in Monticello, IL and the site of the Kalyx Center and the fourth stop on Daytrotter's Barnstormer III tour. (I got lost, but it was a scenic lostness.) It was my first time seeing any of the bands on the bill (Ra Ra Riot, Delta Spirit, Free Energy, Nathaniel Rateliff, Pearly Gate Music). And for Daytrotter's Barnstormer tour, now in its third run, this was a first-ever stop in Illinois, even though they are based in Rock Island.

MOB loves Daytrotter. In fact, it is difficult (and perhaps downright impossible) to think of an organization that does more for the artist. Where else can you find (legal) download access to literally hundreds of artists and thousands of songs? So, big shout out to our friends at Daytrotter for the tour and for just being plain awesome.
The show last night was, as I said, in a barn on/near the Alleton complex called the Kalyx center. It's what they call a "new" barn and set up for this kind of thing, but still the aura of the place is like no other music venue I've ever been to. New or not, we were in a barn! And there was the threat of storm outside! Barnstormer!

Pearly Gate Music kicked, or maybe more apropos, nudged things off in a quiet way. Zach Tillman plays a heavily reverb- effected nylon string guitar. Too effected for my tastes, and I wasn't quite sure what to make of his set -- that ironic hipster mustache and deer sweater maybe spoke too loudly on their own. I was glad, however, when he brought out a second singer, a female vocalist who balanced the irony a bit with what appeared to be downright affection for her musical partner, with pretty harmonies to boot.

I should say upfront, I suppose, that I was most looking forward to seeing Nathaniel Rateliff and Delta Spirit, so no disrespect intended up there.

Rateliff's debut drops in just a few short days (it's great and is already available digitally) and his upcoming shows opening for The Tallest Man on Earth (with a stop at the Pabst on May 25th) are something to be pined over. Rateliff's set was amazing and perfect for a venue like this. On his own, his style is easy enough to describe -- nylon string strumming singer/song-writers aren't that uncommon these days (see above). But his talent in that position is much less common and his band fills things out in a way that is downright startling (in that pleasantly surprised, exciting kind of way). Upright bass; great keyboardist; minimalist, nuanced guitars; a drummer who used mallets as often as sticks; and songs where most of the band sings harmony vocals and the rest seem to be singing along anyway. This is a band to watch. Rateliff's set ended up being my favorite of the evening, I was entranced by this band and can not wait to see them again soon.

On a kind of sweet note, and as an indication of how awesome and engaged he is, I noticed Daytrotter Sean singing along to nearly every word of the set -- he'd do the same thing during Delta Spirit's.

Free Energy was up next. I must not go to many parties because maybe this kind of band is more common than I am aware of, but seriously, Free Energy wants to party. And party they did. They never actually played Thin Lizzy's "The Boys are Back in Town," but, man, every song had that vibe. The gaggle of sorority girls up front dancing loved it, and I think that, actually, was the point.

The barn -- excuse me, Kalyx Center -- was torn down and restored onto the property here near Allerton and in that restoration got three large plate-glass windows. Each of the bands set up and played in front of those windows. After all that Free Energy, Delta Spirit went on and immediately the temperature rose so I thought that it might be fun to listen to the band from outside, watching them from behind through the huge windows. It was. The rain came down in a drizzle and the band absolutely killed inside. Not only could I hear things perfectly, but the best part about that arrangement was that I could see the reactions of the audience to the music. They were reveling in it. Reveling in a band that, judging from the crowds present at each of the performances, was the evening's main event. I loved Delta Spirit's energy and heart. Oh, and the drumming. Near the beginning of the set the band had two drummers going in a rhythm that could have been pulled off a college drumline -- without those funny hats. It was rad. Delta Spirit ruled the roost, er, barn. Oh, and the gaggle of sorority girls I was talking about all came out to join me out back -- "oh, good!" one of them exclaimed. "It's so much easier to dance out here!" And they all commenced twirling in the light rain.

Ra Ra Riot closed the show and though the crowd had dispersed significantly, they still put on a good show. They, for me, are in that category of bands that end up sounding just a little bit better live than they do on the record, which makes them worth while, but not terribly memorable (see disclaimer above).

Rateliff ended his set by saying something that i think summed up the whole night perfectly. He said, "We may not know each other but we can all love each other for one night I guess." And in a barn, deep in Monticello, we did.

Drop a comment if you attended one of the Barnstormer shows. Tell us your highlights!

*thanks to justine b. for the borrowed photo. See more photos here.

Review: The Antlers - Canopy Club, Urbana

2011-05-20T19:18:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

Champaign-Urbana had a busy Record Store Day on Saturday, with all-day band and dj action at Champaign'sExile on Main St and Urbana's Parasol Records, as well as a variety of other performances and events around town (I took my kids to see one of my local favorites, Elsinore, who were playing a rare all-ages show -- one of FOUR they played Saturday -- at the Champaign Public Library). It was a great day for music.

I was looking forward to the Antlers visit to the Canopy Club to end off the day's festivities, but unsure, really, of what to expect. The Antlers played our Pygmalion festival* last year on a packed bill that they shared with a conglomerate of disparate bill-mates and from at least one report (I wasn't there) the show didn't really take off. Also, even though their debut record Hospice was a huge favorite among critics last year (MofB's own Ryan M. names it as his 9th favorite record of 2009), I didn't fall in love with it. Don't get me wrong, I like the record as a friend. We just haven't settled down together or anything.

My reservations about the record are few. I think it does an amazing job building and maintaining a dialectical aesthetic of desolation and beauty -- as I was explaining to my friend, it's not a record about losing your girlfriend, its a record about LOSING your girlfriend. It does so in a lush, wall-of-sound way that makes that despair beautiful and crisp even as it breaks your heart. But, for me, the record doesn't have enough dynamic oomph--it's there in the music, it's just not there in the mix (if that makes sense). It doesn't up-shift. Even when, in Kettering -- the albums flagship song -- when the drums and wall kick in, the volume doesn't explode. It maintains it's whisper. I suppose this may be the very reason people love it so much. Also, there is a circular nature to the melodies on Hospice that while perhaps intentional sometimes wear out their welcome for me.

I hoped that the live show would break out of at least that first reservation and I wasn't disappointed. The Antlers start out hushed, as you might expect, but when they kick it up -- usually due to drummer Michael Learner's tight and concise-if-devastating hammering -- it really gets kicked up. As I've indicated I'm a sucker for big dynamic shifts, so live, when Kettering moves into that late-song crescendo, it really does blast. That made me happy.
The Antlers are a tough band to categorize. They don't really fit comfortably in any contemporary guitar-rock niche, but as I listened Saturday night it occurred to me that the band is more akin to electronic acts like M83 or what you might call "hybird" semi-electronic bands like The Sea and Cake or Sigur Ros. I got a similar vibe from openers Phantogram -- whom I pegged as strange tourmates at first. It turns out, though, that they complement each other well. In other words, this was more than just your standard guitar band fare. The Antlers build that sound carefully as a close-to-the-stage view revealed what must have been 20 separate pedals and sound boxes both at foot and on hand between lead man Peter Silberman and keyboardist Darbi Cicci. There is some sonic craftsmanship happening on stage at an Antlers show.

Something too should be said Silberman's voice. It is the centerpiece of the band and it has a kind of classic sound to it. I may be the only person to have ever thought this, but there were parts of the show last night that sounded downright English New Wave to me -- like I could have been at a late 80s Cure or Depeche Mode show (and, believe me, that's a compliment). Silberman's voice soars and is reminiscent, to me, of Martin Gore's (who sang the best DM tracks). Something about Silberman's voice isn't quite there yet, though. On the way out my friend nailed it when he said, "Man, he's got pipes -- but its like he hasn't quite learned how to use the gas pedal yet."

My one big hope for the night was that the band would be able to maintain the emotional tenor of the record which, given its nature as a record about cancer and death, seemed nearly too much to ask. It seems as though such heavy subject matter would get to be too much to bear and recreate night after night and the band would resort to irony or to phoned-in performance. Incredibly, the Antlers didn't disappoint here. The show was intense and maintained an emotional honesty that can't be easy to pull off. In addition, they played a new song -- "never before heard by anyone" they announced. That made for some happy fans.

Check out this free EP from the band titled New York Hospitals and tell us what you thought if you caught the band here or elsewhere (at last night's Madison show, for example).

She & Him :: Volume Two

2011-05-20T19:16:00.002-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

(An alternate title here might be: "She & Him: The Only Essay You'll Read that Makes Zooey Deschanel into a Pioneer for Sexual Politics in Music.")

Before I knew who she was, I heard Zooey Deschanel sing "Baby, It's Cold Outside" in what I think is the best scene in Will Ferrell's Elf. It kind of comes out of nowhere. She plays this grumpy, brooding, alterna-blonde who is, all of a sudden, in the shower singing her heart out. It's a sweet and then hilarious moment and reveals, I think, Deschanel underneath the character that she plays and in doing so creates an expectations paradox for those of us who were, immediately, fans.

Let me try and explain what I mean...

That paradox is deep-seated in what I see as our typical expectations of what the modern female pop artist looks and sounds like. Post-WWII America and the sexual revolution that followed created an environment where, for the first time, female pop stars began to find a more welcome place as independent artists in the music industry. As such, these artists had to figure out ways to prove themselves -- to establish their artistic credibility -- and what then was a necessary attitude for survival has now become a fairly evident tradition. That "proof" as it existed then and now takes various shapes, from up-front sexuality, to brash politicization, and from a laid back devil-may-care posturing to the ever-popular, pissed-off, angsty cynic. And while surely all female artists don't fit into these categories, these, I think, have become the norms. (I'm choosing not to site specific examples here -- but I'm sure you can easily think of artists who fit one or several of the categories. You'll also likely think of exceptions. Drop a comment below with a response to my argument here -- I'd love to get some responses to these ideas).

With this in mind, I've thought a lot about people's reactions to She & Him. Almost universally people like it, but not without some kind of asterisk. "It's good but not great" or "It took me some time, but eventually, I really started to like it." My reaction was no different. In fact, as you'll read below, I'm still in that place with this newest record. But as I listened to both records several times over the last few days, a possible reason for the asterisk occurred to me. I think when Volume One came out, we were all expecting a Jenny Lewis and M. Ward record. We knew and were comfortable with that scene -- with the Jenny Lewis musical trope of chip-on-my-shoulder cynicism. Lewis's Rabbit Fur Coat (w/ the phenomenal Watson Twins) remains one of my favorites, and had come out a few years earlier and like Deschanel's Elf character, Lewis broods and smolders like a cigarette. I like that stuff; I'm used to that stuff. She & Him are not that stuff. Thus the paradox.

Volume One entered this modern musical discourse in opposition and even negation to these norms. It wasn't just different musically, it was different ideologically. Trying to put my finger this difference, it dawned on me that She & Him records are completely devoid of cynicism. I mean, their sunniness is indisputable, but if you listen to the songs it's more than sunniness -- there is a refusal on these records to fulfill the norms I talk about above. Sure, a She & Him record is a bit like tuning into a golden (really golden) oldies station and not changing the channel for an hour (something I never do), but I think there is actually something semi-revolutionary going on here. Zooey (with Matt) delivers her unabashedly sunny records without self-consciousness, without the now-standard "indie" guile, indeed, with (gasp) earnestness.

If you think about it, especially recently, it is this earnestness that we find so appealing and endearing in our male artist counterparts. Bon Iver is the easiest example to point to here, but think even of the difference between M. Ward and his often-partner Connor Oberst. Ward comes at his work in an almost quiet and humble way, seeking in his now-trademark way, to both make great music and preserve parts of a historical tradition that he identifies with. Oberst tries to do a similar thing, but is less successful in the end, I think, because of his inability to not make the records about him and his cynicism. She & Him operate in an nearly-analogous, history-preserving, earnest arena. We've had female artists such as Amy Winehouse do this in the past, but She & Him do it with unrelenting class.

All that said, this is supposed to be a review of the new record, Volume Two, and honestly, I don't think it is quite as successful as its predecessor. The song writing isn't as strong and consistent, and though it maintains this earnestness that I am so interested in, it doesn't really do it in new or interesting ways. Don't get me wrong, it is a good record -- very enjoyable (sound a bit like what I was talking about above?) but it is less a volume 2 and more a part 2 -- the second half of the first record, or even, occasionally, the unreleased b-sides that didn't quite make the record (see "Over It Over Again"). There are exceptions to this critique -- the single "In the Sun" (see above) is interesting and fun, but maybe not much beyond Volume One's "Why Do You Let Me Stay Here." Also, I quite like the duet "Ridin' in My Car (NRBQ)." The only real departure that I hear on the new record is the last song "If You Can't Sleep" a reverby, a cappella tune that kind of rides the ethereal space beyond the "sun." But then again, it is very similar to the last song on Part One, the inventive cover of the traditional "Swing Low Sweet Chariot." Both give us hints toward what we can look forward to (I hope) in the future of this collaboration.

grass|roots :: Tony Rice

2011-05-20T19:14:00.002-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

grass|roots ep. 4

In my first grass|roots post, I mention that my interest in writing about acoustic music and its traditions is an exploratory venture and not one based, necessarily, on expertise. With this post on Tony Rice, I begin that exploration in earnest. Surely there are folks out there that know more -- I encourage their comments and suggestions.

My last several posts have been about my favorite acoustic musicians -- Jerry Douglas, Bela Fleck, Chris Thile -- all of which have had a hand in moving bluegrass music in a progressive direction. Tony Rice is, in this respect, as influential and integral to this move as any of these musicians, if not more so. You can trace his songwriting, guitar playing, collaborations, and solo work directly through the history of that move. Like these artists, he has, throughout this career, managed to be both traditional and a-traditional.

Born and raised in California, he moved to Louisville, Kentucky in the early 70s and began playing on a variety of important projects. Almost immediately, he participated in a record that has become a pivotal record in bluegrass history -- the pivotal record, even. The record was 1975's J.D. Crowe and the New South. This was a super-before-they-were-super group with the legendary J.D. Crowe on banjo and the now-legendary players Jerry Douglas, Ricky Skaggs, and Tony Rice filling out the rest of the band. Check these cats out (and see if you can look beyond those butterfly collars and leisure suits to see a super squirrely Douglas behind the haircut and scowl. Also, pay attention to Rice's golden playing and really lovely voice):

From there Rice launches into a career of both ground-breaking solo work and high-profile collaborations that have made him one of the genre's living legends which you can read about on his wiki page or, much better, in his just-published authorized biography, Still Inside. (I can't wait till my schedule opens up enough to read that biography. It's been delayed for years now. Autographed copies are still available from the linked site.)

My story with Rice is that I came across his music as a beginner bluegrass fan and before I knew anything about the stuff above. I picked up a record (as I often do) at my local library that looked interesting -- it was that simple. The record was his The Bluegrass Guitar Collection (2003). It is a fantastic instrumental record with a laundry list of the best-of-the-best collaborators on it. Next I got his Cold on the Shoulder and thought, "who is this guy singing?" I had no idea that Rice sang, or why (when I found out that it was his great voice I was hearing on this and other solo records) he quit. It's bittersweet, then, to hear the story he recounts of his first guitar experience here. Rice's singing voice is gone. He has dysphonia, a medical condition that has left his vocal chords damaged and unusable.

I'd highly recommend your doing some exploring here. I'm betting that if you made a short trip to your local library you'd find some great stuff. Check out Church Street Blues or Manzanita. Rice-perts, drop a few recommendations for us here as well. In the meantime, enjoy this solo performance of Shenandoah/Danny Boy. I think you'll see hear immediately what I think makes him so special.

Tony will be in Stoughton, WI on April 23rd at the Stoughton Opera House and in Chicago at the Old Town School of Folk Music on April 25th.

grass|roots :: Punch Brothers - Punch

2011-05-20T19:13:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

grass|roots ep. 3

Tomorrow night the Pabst will welcome The Punch Brothers to Millwaukee for a second of three Wisconsin stops on what front-man Chris Thile has been calling the third annual "Hypothermeanderings Tour." (Madison, they'll be at the UW Union Theater tonight and at the UW Platteville Center for the Arts on the 6th).

In 2008 the Punch Brothers released Punch, an album that my iTunes tells me I have listened to more than any other in my collection. It was not just a favorite album of 2008, it has become one of my favorite records period. It, for me, does something distinctly unique and innovative -- something that very few bands in both popular and bluegrass music are attempting, let alone succeeding in. Chris and his brothers Punch are at once reinvigorating a genre and pushing that genre into new and progressive realms. But what is more remarkable is that they are doing so in a completely accessible way. Much of modern "progressive" bluegrass is as likely to alienate new listeners as attract them. The Punch Brothers do the opposite.

I first became acquainted with Chris Thile through his work as a member of the band Nickel Creek. Thile, along with the siblings Sara and Sean Watkins brought bluegrass to the masses with songs that drew on the bluegrass tradition, but infused it with pop sensibilities. This, I think, was the genesis of what I was talking about above. Nickel Creek made a move that made the music not only approachable by said masses, but relevant as a step forward for popular bluegrass. The Punch Brothers have kept pushing.

Though all three members of Nickel Creek contributed work to the band (and both are now doing great solo work), Thile's songwriting, voice, and virtuoso mandolin playing impressed me most about the band. 2005's Why Should the Fire Die especially began to show off Thile as pulling out ahead of the pack with tunes like "Helena," "Can't Complain" and "Doubting Thomas." Each which, while fairly straight ahead pop tunes, had heart-wrenching narratives of not just failed relationships, but the deeper issues that surround trauma: issues of belief and faith. Thile often comes back around to religious imagery in his current work which he uses as a kind of motif to represent the unrepresentable. Singing about the disintegration of a marriage (which he does on Punch) becomes analogous to the disintegration of faith itself. It's devastating to listen in on, but unflinchingly poignant and beautiful.

His first major solo release, Not All Who Wander are Lost, came out in 2001 just as Nickel Creek was gaining steam (though he's been putting out records since he was nine...! His first, Leading Off came out in 1993 and has recently been reissued by Sugar Hill). A mostly instrumental record, Not All Who Wander boasts collaborations with Stuart Duncan, Béla Fleck, Edgar Meyer, Jerry Douglas, and Bryan Sutton -- many of whom who had, for years, already been pushing on the borders of what might be considered bluegrass music. These were the masters. More importantly, these were Thile's heroes and now he had officially joined their ranks.

Thile has continued to put out interesting solo work, including Deciever in 2004 (as an experiment he plays every instrument on this, a more pop/rock record) and has several duo collaboration records: Two with fellow mandolinist Mike Marshall and one that came out just a few months ago with bassist Edgar Meyer.

This most recent project, however, is the one that I think is game changing. Sometime in 2006 Thile wrangled a new band together. This band, however, was different than previous work. No longer focused on pop music, per say, or carving out musical relationships with the greats, the new project was about reciprocity. Each of the musicians were young players but, like Thile, were on the top of their game with sufficient pluck (pardon the pun) to work and be incredibly successful on their own (the current line-up has Chris Eldridge on guitar, Paul Kowert on bass, Noam Pikelny, banjo and Gabe Witcher on the fiddle). When they got together to record How To Grow A Woman From The Ground (not yet under the Punch Brothers moniker) you can hear things clicking right away. Whether in the opening track "Watch 'at Breakdown" (which launches a Flatt & Skruggs thing into the stratosphere), or "The Beekeeper" (which makes sure it stays in orbit), the record is clearly a demarcation of something great on the rise.

Punch solidifies and reiterates everything I've already been saying. They keep on pushing. In this case, and perhaps the reason I have come back to this record so often, it is the four movement, thirty-six minute, pseudo-classical piece "The Blind Leaving the Blind" (the foray into dealing with the grief of divorce I was talking about). It is a piece to be unraveled. Melodies weave in and out; choruses and musical motifs modulate and recirculate, and the piece -- especially if you see them do it live -- just completely envelopes you. This is smart music, folks. It is music that inspires thinking even as it has you tapping your foot. It not only inspires the listener to keep digging into the bluegrass tradition (as it did me), but makes a trip to see a symphony seem in order. I think this is what Thile intends. He wants us to both have a great time with his music, but learn something from it and be inspired by it.

And if thirty-six minute bluegrass symphonies seem a bit out of your league (despite what I said about accessibility), there's other stuff that might encourage your checking out the band. They love a good cover, for example. How to Grow a Woman has the Strokes' "Heart in a Cage," their Daytrotter session (see below) includes a cover of Wilco's "Poor People," and they are known to close shows with this gem (which features Gabe Witcher on vocals):

If you like that -- you might just like their "Morning Bell" too.

Word is, the Punch Brothers just recorded a new album due out in the Spring. Before then, I really hope you get out to see them.

Review: Joe Pug - Canopy Club, Urbana

2011-05-20T19:10:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

I’m going to take a bit of a different angle for my review of Joe Pug’s fabulous show last night at Canopy Club in Urbana. First, however, I should say that Pug is a CU favorite. He has a large crowd of fiercely loyal fans here who crammed into a sold out, bar-side, "Void Room" concert nook. They sang along, lifted their glasses, and put the tour-weary Pug and Co. at ease. So much so, Joe Pug knew he couldn’t put one over on them and told about how he'd been telling every other city that Andrew Harrison (pedal-steel/guitar/vocals/beard) was "born and raised" in their town. He was especially proud that when he said it in Denver, the Huffington Post printed it as gospel truth. You can't help but believe everything the guy says, though. Maybe it was just the near-hometown crowd, but it felt like Joe was in a room with 200 of his closest friends. I like that feeling.

Anyway, rather than a rehash of the entire show which blossomed from solo, to duo, to full-band and back to solo over the hour Joe was on stage, I'd like to focus in on a single song and a single performance. The song is "Not So Sure" -- the third track on Pug's recently released and first full-length LP Messenger. "Not So Sure" was the subject of one of our local (and great, I should add before I get critical) blogs, Smile Politely. In the article, the author John Steinbacher praises Pug as a musician and makes sure to elevate the new record for its musical advances -- full band, great instrumentation, lovely arrangements. But then he lays into the lyrics saying that "this isn't music where the words [should be] an afterthought." "Mostly," he says "they're kind of the point. And mostly [on Messenger] they miss." He then moves through several of the songs on the record, calling the lyrics "cringeworthy," lacking "full narratives," and then, misquoting the chorus of "Not So Sure" (I bought expensive cigarettes, I read John Steinbeck's books), he calls the lyrics "completely unnecessary."

Now, I mean no quarrel with Steinbacher; surely we have likely stood shoulder to shoulder at previous CU shows. I only mean to completely disagree with him. As my only evidence against each of his claims, here are the lyrics to "Not So Sure":

There was a time when I heard you calling out my name
But these days I'm not so sure
When the room went dark and your voice was gone, I heard you all the same
But these days I'm not so sure
I knew I could remember your bedroom and your touch
But these days I'm not so sure
Definitely was the word I used far too much
Cause these days I'm not so sure

I bummed expensive cigarettes
I wrote John Steinbeck's books
I undressed someone's daughter and then complained about her looks
Stealing was so easy then I wish that it still were
Now as I pick my own pocket I know these days I'm not so sure

The church was my kitchen, the world was my church
But these days I'm not so sure
The choirs I would listen, the briers I would search
But these days I'm not so sure
I sacrificed my sister, I prayed my own soul to keep
I told my dying father that a man should never weep
Breathing was so easy then I wish that it still were
Now as the breeze just makes me colder, I know these days I'm not so sure

So if you see me tripping, I've forgotten how to walk
and I spend my days wishing after her
My steps are without rhythm and her name is drawn in chalk
as these days I'm not so sure
I drank my wine for breakfast every morning I was born
in the black electric winter my back was always warm
Sleeping was so easy then I wish that it still were
Now in my sleepless bedroom, I know these days I'm not so sure.

"Not So Sure" was the highlight of the show. It came about halfway in and was the first song Pug played with Andrew Harrison. Something about the simplicity of that Guild acoustic guitar and pedal-steel just bowls me over. Add to that sweet vocals and vocal harmonies singing the lyrics printed above and you have my favorite performance of the year so far.

There were other highlights. I promise. The backing band is a great new element to both the record and the live show. I couldn't get enough of Andrew Harrison's playing -- he makes country picking look easy when he's not playing the pedal steel. I will mention that near the end of the show, Joe played Hymn #101 -- most of the crowd knew and sang every word. And considering the densely beautiful, repetitive, Dylan-esque nature of that song, it was quite a feat. And wow, I love hearing a whole room singing "I have come to test the timbre of my heart." Apropos.

Review: Retribution Gospel Choir - Canopy Club, Urbana

2011-05-20T19:08:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

Retribution Gospel Choir. What are we to make of this name? A gospel choir. Ok, got that -- sounds kinda holy. Let's keep this going. So, retribution? Apparently this is the gospel choir -- the one that you sing in as a reward for, uh, a life well sung; or, wait... was that punishment. I'm confused. I kind of love it. And I don't usually get excited about band names. Sometimes they seem more like a necessary evil than working to productively represent (as an abstraction) a band. There is something about the name Retribution Gospel Choir that just totally works for me.

Alan Sparhawk from Low fronts the band. And RGC doesn't feel like a side-project. Their second record (titled, aptly, 2) came out last month, and it both builds on Low's foundation and moves that jarring, heavy Sparhawk sound to a new place. It's an excellent record.

They came through Champaign-Urbana to the Canopy Club a few nights ago and played a 16 song set that included most of that record, and several from their eponymous debut (2008). It was a small show -- only fifty people at a too-late-for-such-a-good-band time (they didn't go on until 11:30 pm). But I digress (and show my age).

Highlights:

Huge sound, three dudes. This is the Sparhawk signature thing, I realize, but here it is again. It comes across strongest on long, heavy tunes like "Electric Guitar," "Your Bird" and the amazing single (and the track that opens the LP) "Hide It Away."
Pop sensibilities: Like a friend of mine said on the way out of the show, "Fun -- like Low but upbeat." And it's true. There is still a darkness here, but we get some pop in there on tunes like "Workin' Hard" and "White Wolf" -- both which clock in at under 3 minutes. This tunes had punch on stage -- really fun to watch.
Great drums and bass playing. Mimi Parker's drumming does a lot to create the Low sound, so drummer Eric Pollard offers the element that does the most to separate RGC from Low (fast, very technical playing) and he kills as a back-up vocalist with really high and strong harmonies. Steve Garrington (also of Low) is aggressive and powerful. His move into the bass position on this record (replacing Matt Livingston) solidifies my feeling that RGC is Sparhawk's new main musical vehicle.

It was a fun night. I look forward to seeing this band start to move. I bet we see them all over the summer festival circuit -- and with much larger audiences to boot.

Setlist: Breaker / For Her Blood / Workin' Hard / Destroyer / Hide It Away / Poor Man's Daughter / '68 Comeback / White Wolf / They Knew You Well / Your Bird / What She Turned Into / Electric Guitar / Take Your Time / Encore: cover song I can't place (ends with "it takes a friend to stop a friend") / Kids Lyrics

Review: Béla Fleck | Africa Project – Canopy Club, Urbana

2011-05-20T19:06:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

grass|roots -- ep. 2

Since seeing Béla Fleck's Africa Project last Sunday night (at the Canopy Club in Urbana, IL), I've been thinking about what I might say here to communicate what a unique experience it was. I think it might be best if I do some showing instead of telling. Consider first this video, which shows the meeting of Fleck with Tanzanian musician Anania Ngoliga:

Now have a listen to N'goni Ba, the seven-piece group from Mali (pictured above):

These are the musicians who accompanied Béla Fleck on Sunday night. Anania played his ilimba or "thumb piano" -- something I had only seen five-note versions of in the past -- and N'goni Ba's Bassekou Kouyate is a master of the West African lute or n'goni. The n'goni is a seven-string instrument that is thousands of years old and thought to be an ancestor of the American banjo (though how the n'goni can have more than three strings is beyond me: the neck is the diameter of a small broom handle!).

Fleck is an undisputed banjo master. He's an innovator and his work transcends genre. He's bound to show up again and again in this series. He's won thirteen Grammy awards for his work, most often with the Flecktones, but also for various other projects. And just a few weeks ago, his "Africa Sessions" received two. He's gone beyond mere progressive virtuosity here. With this Africa project he's making some important arguments, acknowledging gracefully but forcefully that American folk history is not just American. Our roots extend into Africa and beyond. He knows from his experience in bluegrass and jazz that music can be a key to understanding culture. It unlocks hidden doors and grants access to the hearts of people in ways that other intellectual explorations cannot -- which might have something to do with the title of the project. It's called Throw Down Your Heart (The flash homepage linked here is astounding. Spend some time there exploring the project's variety of places and contributors.)

The show was amazing. Fleck graced us with a few solo numbers, but his priority was clearly to shine a spotlight on each of his collaborators. He demonstrated how the kind of musical conversation begun in the video I shared above can evolve to become beautiful show pieces. These collaborations are meant, I think, to celebrate the unmistakable similarities in our cultural musical traditions by bringing them, at last, to our attention. In fact, I love that Throw Down Your Heart somewhat undermines some of definitions I tried to flesh out in my first grass|roots post last week (right out of the gate in episode 2!). In describing his idea behind the project Béla says: "I thought it was important for people to realize where the banjo comes from . . . it's been associated so much with a white-southern stereotype that most people don't realize it's an African instrument." By finding a role for the banjo in African music (rather than the other way around) Fleck finds a way to not just celebrate but venerate African music and musicians. Indeed, with Throw Down Your Heart Béla Fleck helps to correct our notions of what is meant when we talk about roots music.

Review: Juniper Tar - "The Howl Street EP"

2011-05-20T19:03:00.002-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

It’s no secret that we are big fans of Milwaukee’s Juniper Tar here at Muzzle of Bees. They’re playing one of our 5-year-anniversary shows (2/19 in Madison); we mention them every chance we get; oh, and Muzzle of Bees’ own Ryan Matteson and WMSE’s Ryan Schleicher (bassist and vocalist in Juniper Tar) have a little podcastthat you might have heard. The connections are everywhere.

But being out of the northern loop, I’ve never met these dudes — just heard them. I’ve been listening to theirHowl Street EP for several weeks now and wow, it’s good. It's out today. You should get it. They will celebrate the release of the EP this Thursday night at Club Garibaldi. You should go.

This EP follows the band's 2008 release of the full-length To the Trees (which you can get from the band in exchange for your email address here!) and shows that the band is serious about its development and evolution. An EP like this needs to work in some very specific ways. It should create anticipation and excitement in a wider-than-local audience -- in essence something to tour behind. It should give that audience both broad and fine-stroke ideas about craft, style, and influence. And it should work as a kind of flag-ship of the band's best work for potential labels. In other words, it should make a strong argument -- one that will move people to get out and see the band. The Howl Street EP succeeds in all these ways. I want to see this band as soon as possible.

In regards to the style and influences behind Juniper Tar, I hear an attention to tradition but with a unique distillation that other artists like Justin Townes Earle and bands like Dawes are doing so well right now. Also, there is an aesthetic to Juniper Tar that reminds me of groups like the National and Explosions in the Sky -- a sound that manages to be greater than the sum of its parts. That can't be easy to pull off.

"Innerstates" opens the record with a great melody with strong and layered vocals. It's songs like this that have earned the band the designation of being "folksy roots-rock." The vocal harmonies here are indicitive of what kind of record this is going to be. They are the first thing that catch my attention and surely,"Innerstates" sets the tone for the EP. The folksy roots-rock thing blows up into something much bigger pretty quickly though. Not that the rest of the EP isn't folksy or rootsy, it just does a lot more. "Birds in the Trees" has that Explosions in the Sky element I was talking about with a long wistful jam at the end. "Old Mystery" also has this element. It is an epic tune that builds for several minutes before moving into the verses and chorus. In this case the concluding jam has multiple guitars trading lines back and forth. It's fun to listen to; it must be a blast to play.

The record closes with "Strings" and it employs a songwriting strategy that I notice is used often throughout The Howl Street EP. It involves the use of a single vocal line repeated against the building dynamics of the rest of the band. It's effective. It gives the words a chance to sink in but also allows space for the rest of the band to move around and speak -- first in simple vocal harmonies, but later and as it builds into that sweeping bigness I was talking about earlier. There is usually a back and forth here, as on "Birds in the Trees," that creates a kind of dialog between the vocals and the instruments. Like I mentioned, it's really fun to listen to. And, no mistake about it, this is a guitar record. There is some really incredible playing here: acoustic, electric, lap-steel -- it's all great.

I can't say that I'm not just a little jealous of the Wisconsin festivities that are coming up here in the next few weeks. From the release party for this great EP, to the Muzzle of Bees anniversary shows, not to mention the incredible consistency of amazing shows you guys seem to get. It helps a bit that I see a TBA date scheduled on Juniper Tar's upcoming tour down here in Champaign. I can't wait to meet you guys.

grass|roots :: Jerry Douglas

2011-05-20T19:01:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

grass|roots -- ep. 1

I don't remember the first time I heard Jerry Douglas play, but I do recall when I first started to notice. It was on a solo number -- "Tribute to Peador O'Donnell" -- on the live Alison Krauss and Union Station record. It wasn't life-changing so much as it was game-changing. Hearing Douglas -- his virtuosity, his unmistakable style, and, really, hearing what a resophonic guitar (or Dobro) can do -- was like stumbling upon something completely new, yet totally familiar.

Jerry Douglas put a new face on "country" music for me. Five or six years ago, I barely knew bluegrass/roots from Toby Keith (or country from Country), so Jerry Douglas (and, to be fair Alison Krauss and the rest of Union Station) got me and my preconceived notions out of I Love this Bar & Grill and on my way into a wonderfully rewarding musical exploration. He's been called the greatest Dobro player who ever lived and in addition to thirteen solo records (since 1979), he's contributed his special brand of slide to over 1600 albums. 1600! I had the great pleasure of seeing him play at last year's Ellnora guitar festival at the Krannert Center for the Performing Arts in Urbana, IL. It rates among the best few hours of live music that I've ever heard. (I still can't believe that it was a free show--thanks Krannert!)

As many of you likely know better than me, American Roots Music is a voluminous and multi-chambered instrument. It encompasses country and blues, gospel and old-time, folk and bluegrass, among others. In essence, when you think about it, these genres make up the bedrock of influence for many if not most of the bands that we love here at Muzzle of Bees. Of course, from these "roots" would grow the more dominant genres of rock and roll, rhythm and blues, and jazz which would each come to define the nation musically (and which we like quite a bit here too). But there is something intriguing to me about acoustic instruments and musicians that typify roots and especially bluegrass music -- something familiar and true.

So begins a new regular feature here at Muzzle of Bees that I'll be calling, simply, "grass|roots". I'll be trying my best to get a handle on the genres listed above by documenting my own exploration of them. I'll start early next week with review of Béla Fleck's show here in Urbana on Valentine's eve, and will press forward from there with album and concert reviews, artist and label spotlights, and whatever else seems related and relevant.

I start with Jerry Douglas because his work rubs up against, influences, or in some other way resonates with so much of what interests me currently in roots music. I'm compelled by the growing, modern grass-hybrid genre (sometimes called "progressive" or "newgrass") that he is so often connected with (and that I have written about before) and will continue to explore it here. Watch for upcoming posts on Tony Rice, Chris Thile, Edgar Meyer, Sam Bush, and Mark O'Conner just to name a very few.

Review: Spoon - "Transference"

2011-05-20T18:59:00.002-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

Spoon's Transference hits early this year and hits hard. This record is not a reinvention, but neither is it a rehashing. This is Spoon and Spoon, as you well know, is a darn good band. Since this record has gotten and will continue to get a ton of press, I thought I'd mention a few things to listen for that I'd hate to see overlooked:

The piano. Spoon may get categorized as a guitar band, but wow -- we don't get a lot of piano playing like this in contemporary rock. Of course, deft piano playing is par for the course in Spoon with classic tunes like "The Way We Get By" and "Don't Make Me a Target" but man, keyboardist Eric Harvey kills it on Transference.Check out the first 30 seconds of "Written In Reverse" You'll see what I mean. The next song, "I Saw The Light" has an amazing piano-based break-down section and "Goodnight Laura" as an all-out piano ballad.

The intimacy. My penchant for the piano on this record may have something to do with this sticking out to me, but Transference -- more than any of it's predecessors -- has a house-show production quality. It feelspresent and light and close. Right out of the gate with "Before Destruction" a simple thing like vocal mic placement (Daniels must have sung and played that acoustic guitar a few feet away instead of right into the mic) creates immediate intimacy. Some records never get there; this one does in the first 1/3 of the first song. I guess the band did their own production on Transference which, if this is the result, should be the way it gets done from now on.

The lyrics. And, really, the delivery of those lyrics. Britt Daniel is such a good singer. It's not so much that there's a poetry to the lyrics as it is that the songs on Transference, as on all Spoon records, are lyrical. Sometimes vocal style and word-choice/arrangement become a part of the musical aesthetic of a record in the way, for example, that the piano that I was mentioning earlier does. Some artists have a knack for knowing how to make a line sound good -- to smack -- over a musical phrase. Daniel Does.

Discuss: Let's hear what you think. What stands out for you in this release? How does Transferencestand up among Spoon's other records? Will we still be listening to this in a year when people start putting together their favorite records of 2010?

James Taylor & Carole King reunite, incite JT nostalgia

2011-05-20T18:56:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

James Taylor and Carole King touring together again is a pretty big deal. They'll be in Chicago on May 24th at the AllState Arena as part of their "Troubadour Reunion Tour". The last time they team-toured was back in 1971 when Sweet Baby James and Tapestry exploded in sweet, sunshiny goodness upon the American airwaves. These two now-classic albums would have a paradoxical effect on one another. On one hand, Sweet Baby James with the title track (my favorite JT song) as well as “Fire and Rain,” and “Country Roads” would be heard and learned by many a suburban boy and sung to woo many a suburban girl. And then Tapestry, with that incredible three-song opening (“I Feel the Earth Move,” “So Far Away,” and “It’s Too Late”) was there for the girls when the moon-dust would wear off into one heartbreak or another, or they would realize that their dearest could neither play or sing like James Taylor—whichever came first. (And, of course, vice versa, lest we succumb to the pitfalls of gender stereotyping here.)

All this is to say that I really love James Taylor (and Carole King, but it's JT that's got me thinking). My parents were those 1971 suburban kids. When I eventually joined the party, we would listen to JT albums in the car on the long drives up canyons to yonder fishing holes. Those songs stuck, and even as a teenager with all that brit-pop and alterna-distortion I was into, I had my JT Greatest Hits safely in the collection. Seriously, who doesn’t have that album? (It’s been Diamond certified and has sold over 20 million copies.)

I’ve been trying to figure something out, though -- and feel free to chime in here. From where I stand, it doesn’t really seem like James Taylor has penetrated into the current cultural spheres of musical influence the way, say, Neil Young has. Granted, JT is a different kind of artist than Young—with, arguably, a greater "mass-audience" appeal, which can sometimes damage critical credibility. He’s been more (gasp!) commercially successful and, perhaps worst of all, as a result has been marooned on that lonely island of “adult-contemporary” rock. I mean, if I hear “Carolina in My Mind” at the grocery store on a regular basis, no need to go home and listen to the record, right? All this, compounded by the addition of back-up singers in the mid 80s -- major yuppie points there -- is, perhaps the reason you don’t hear Robin Pecknold or Justin Vernon citing him as an influence.

But, despite the back-up singers, I don’t think it’s a justified oversight. I think that he has been more influential than may first meet the eye, as a guitar player (he makes it look effortless) and certainly as one of the most successful singer-songwriter acts, like, ever. During the 70s, he produced a long string of quality records that included some famous (and less-famous) collaborations including Carole King, Joni Mitchell, Carly Simon, David Crosby, Graham Nash, Stevie Wonder, Bonnie Raitt, Paul Simon and even Paul McCartney (Taylor, as is likely well-known, was one of the first artists signed to the Beatles’ Apple label and remains a friend and favorite of McCartney’s). He's had musical ups and downs, personal successes and failures; he’s been hospitalized several times for depression and drug addiction over the years (he finally kicked the methadone habit in the early 80s) -- other recording artists have had lower lows and still maintained their critical ethos. But his body of work, taken as a whole, is remarkable, and should be given the credit it's due.

For those of you only familiar with his grocery store hits, I urge you to delve a bit deeper into that back catalog. Here are a few places to start:

“Don’t be Sad Cause Your Sun is Down” is a sweet little tune co-written by Stevie Wonder who also provides backing on harmonica (it's pretty obscure though, so let lala give you your one free listen). It’s on JT’s In the Pocket (1976) which features many of those collaborations I was speaking of above. Other tunes to check out here are “Nothing Like a Hundred Miles” and “Golden Moments.”

“Millworker” from the 1979 record Flag is a classic. Not only does it show off Taylor’s ability as a songwriter, but it also is a window into his political ideologies and support for blue-collared America. It apparently struck a chord as it’s been covered by the likes of Springsteen, Emmylou Harris, and even Eddie Vedder

“Frozen Man” from 1991's New Moon Shine is another songwriting gem--this one the imagined back-story of a dude they pulled out of the frozen tundra. It's in my top five favorite JT tunes.

Finally, Taylor's two most recent releases of original tunes (he's put out a few covers records more recently), 1997's Hourglass and 2002's October Road are evidence that he's back on the top of his game. Nearly every song on these two records resonate and teach the way you might expect a journeyman's music to. I remember listening to Hourglass's "Enough to Be On Your Way" when I was 19 and thinking-- wow, this is what adulthood must feel like. It encapsulates the bitter-sweetness of divergent paths as the lyrics reflect on the loss of an old friend.

October Road offers a dozen other songs in this vein--songs about remembering, songs about forgetting, songs about honoring and hoping. My favorite here didn't really sink in until Taylor released a live concert collection called One Man Band (2007-- and if you're looking for a good live collection of the best JT songs, this is the one. It's just him and a great pianist.) The song is "Traveling Star" and instead of the hip-swaying back-up singers that I tend to cringe at, Taylor manages an on-stage, prerecorded video sync with a choir from his hometown. For me this is the epitome of Sunday afternoon music--my wife and I reading on the couch, kids occupied quietly (yeah, right) somewhere. Our lives passing happily, slowly; but not too slowly.

I can't promise anything more than soft rock here, folks. But despite its softness, it's meant something to me. I think you'll also find some depth and wisdom here-- more, at least, than you might find wandering the grocery store.

Review: Jeff Tweedy - Orpheum Theatre, Phoenix AZ

2011-05-20T18:54:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

Christmas in Arizona is already pretty sweet. The highs here in Tucson have been around 60 all week and with all the snow and storminess hitting the Midwest, the discomfort of the three-day drive (with kids) from Champaign was nearly, if not completely, forgotten. Last night, all remaining trip-fatigue faded. You see, Jeff Tweedy vacations in Arizona too. Last night my wife and I made the short drive from Tucson to Phoenix to see him play a solo set at the beautiful and historic Orpheum Theatre. Talk about sweet. His sister lives in the Phoenix valley and Tweedy joked that the show was planned to finance their trip out to visit for Christmas, "then I saw her guest list . . . it's not going to cover it."

This is my third time getting to see Jeff Tweedy this year. I saw him play a similar solo set in Champaign at the end of January and then in Chicago with Wilco in October. And while seeing the full band is surely an experience to have and then repeat as often as possible, there is something unmistakably special about seeing a Jeff Tweedy solo show. You might expect the guy to kind of drown up there on stage all by himself playing ensemble songs like "Impossible Germany" and "Spiders (Kidsmoke)." But, instead, the songs take on new life as acoustic arrangements and are arguably (as is the case with "Spiders") more smooth and palatable than the original (even when he forgets the words, like he did last night). So there's that. But Jeff Tweedy is also hilarious. He is engaging, self-deprecating, and confident -- attributes which, as a foil to his songs about heartbreak and loss, come across as the best kind of charisma.

As I found out in January, Tweedy takes advantage of solo shows by dusting off obscure/ side-project tunes and revitalizing them. Last night we heard a favorite of mine, the b-side "Bob Dylan's 49th Beard," as well as the Woody Guthrie/Wilco/Billy Bragg tune "Remember the Mountain Bed" from Mermaid Avenue pt. II and Golden Smog's "The Ruling Class" (complete with the promise that it is not blasphemous--he's played it at plenty of Christian colleges . . . and is then asked never to come back), among others.
But there were several other highlights:

"Muzzle of Bees" sounds so great in this context and, from a quick look back at the year's Wilco shows, it doesn't get played that often anymore. It's my favorite Wilco song and (likely) the reason I first stumbled on this blog.
Like the full-band show in October, Tweedy led the audience in a singalong of "Jesus, Etc." Though, unlike the Wilco show, this time it was much more hushed--the audience only singing at a whisper--which made the song all the more affecting.
We got a cover of the Handsome Family's realist-Christmas tune "So Much Wine." Jeff called it a favorite and hoped that he would be able to remember the words. If memory serves, he dedicated it (as well as "Please Tell My Brother") to his sister Debbie. I can't wait to start rummaging through their catalog now.

At both of the solo shows I attended this year, Tweedy ended the set by playing a few songs out in the front of the stage, off the PA system. I've never seen any other artist do this and it's amazing what a difference it makes. And even though Tweedy joked last night that this would be what things would be like when "all of the power gets used up," as soon as he stepped away from the mic, it was like he stepped into the audiences' collective living rooms. Last night we sat in silence as he played "Someone Else's Song" and the Uncle Tupelo classic "Acuff-Rose." I love both of those tunes for their man-behind-the-curtain effect: they reveal Jeff Tweedy's immense back-history of musical influence. You can't hear either and not want to brush off some Bill Monroe or Haggard. In other words, I don't think it's a coincidence that Flatt and Scruggs' "Salty Dog Blues" was playing on the speakers before Tweedy ever stepped on stage.

setlist: Sunken Treasure / Remember the Mountain Bed / Please Tell My Brother / Hummingbird / Country Disappeared / The Ruling Class / I Am Trying To Break Your Heart / Bob Dylan's 49th Beard / You and I / Muzzle of Bees / How To Fight Loneliness / Impossible Germany / In a Future Age / Passenger Side / So Much Wine (Handsome Family cover) / Spiders (Kidsmoke) / Shot in the Arm
encore: Heavy Metal Drummer / Jesus, Etc. / I'm the Man Who Loves You / Someone Else's Song / Acuff-Rose

Review: Andrew Bird - Foellinger Auditorium, Urbana

2011-05-20T18:52:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

Andrew Bird was last in town two-and-a-half years ago headlining our annual Pygmalion festival. I was new in town and I was still trying to get a feel for Champaign-Urbana's musical potential. I had listened to Bird's The Mysterious Production of Eggs and enjoyed it enough to check out his then new album Armchair Apocrypha.But, to be honest, I didn't have high expectations. I was sitting way in the back on the balcony and I heard it was only going to be Bird without a backing band. How good could it be?

It was one of the best concerts I have ever been to.

You can imagine, then, what it was like sitting on the third row last night at Foellinger auditorium.
Bird is a juggler; an acrobat. His records, while wonderful, conceal this. Until you have seen him build his intricate loops -- plucked pizzicato melody under several layers of bowed violin, under guitar, under whistles, under voice -- you just can't get a sense for his musicianship and mastery as an artist. It took me by complete surprise that first time a few years ago. Last night, I knew what I was in for and was not disappointed.
Part of what makes seeing Bird play live so special is that his complex looping process mixed with his quirky, spontaneous style generates the feeling that the audience is experiencing something completely new and unique. Last night, Bird, dressed in festive red and green flannel and corduroy, played great songs from his catalog, but none really sounded like they do on the records. Part of this, of course, is due to the fact that he is playing the songs solo, without percussion or bass as a back-drop; but it's more than that. After opening with "You Woke Me Up!" from Useless Creatures, he said that his long year of touring had got him thinking about the songs as they existed before they were recorded. "Back when the songs were magma," he said. I can't think of a better way to describe the music or the night: magma. Lovely, molten magma.

From there he played "Sweetbreads," an early version of "Darkmatter" (which you can find, if you're lucky, on the first of the three self-released, live Fingerlings records). In its early conception, the song was less about darkmatter and more about eating cow brains, with all, he said, the attending philosophical ramifications and complications: "the sound of neurons blinking." Next and also from Fingerlings came the live favorite, "Why?" which is as much acting as it is music making. Bird said it was about an old needy roommate who complained to him that "we weren't spending enough time together." The chorus, "damn you for being so easy going," became a frustrating theme, he said -- a pattern -- of several future relationships as well.

The rest of the night played out in a similar manner. Bird would introduce a song with a story and then play a phenomenal rendition of the tune. I loved the stories. He wasn't so talkative last time he came through -- it wasfun. Other standout moments for me included versions of my favorite songs from this year's Noble Beast,"Anonanimal" and "Natural Disaster." Lyrically, "Anonanimal" might be his best work to date, and "Natural Disaster" is its lovely foil on the album, but took on new life as a live tune.

Also, he mentioned his upcoming church residency gigs in Chicago and Minneapolis and had acquired two more of those rad horn speakers for the shows. He said he runs his violin through them and that they would essentially be the P.A. at those mostly-instrumental shows in the near future. He then played "Carrion Suite" (also from Useless Creatures) to get warm for them. Also great was a little story about the original chorus of "Imitosis," a line from a Sesame Street song (see below), and an impromptu visit from Dr. Stringz. Oh! and we got "Headsoak" -- a great old bluesy tune from "back in the Bowl of Fire days."

His encore was a sweet version of the old standard "Some of These Days" and "Weather Systems."
What a night.

[A shout-out, also, to Urbana's You and Yourn who opened the show. The auditorium could have been a bit big for their britches, but they filled it out nicely (though, work on that between-song banter, guys.) Check out their new Parasol Records release "It Would Make Things Worse".]

Andrew Bird set list: Sweetbreads / Why? / Tenuousness / Nervous Tic Motion of the Head to the Left / Natural Disaster / Oh No / Carrion Suite / The Happy Birthday Song / Headsoak / We All Live in a Capital I (Sesame Street cover) / Imitosis / Anonanimal / Dr. Stringz (request from the audience) /Scythian Empire / Encore: Some of These Days / Weather Systems

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For those of you who, like me, are interested in musical genealogy, concurrent with the Bowl of Fire days, Andrew Bird played violin on several of the early Squirrel Nut Zippers records. Remember them? They were better, I think, than the swing-dance fad that contained them. Writing this post reminded me of one of their best songs and videos, "Ghost of Stephen Foster" (from their 1998 record, Perennial Favorites). Check it out; Andrew Bird is all over it (if not actually in it): "Ghost of Stephen Foster"

"Golden" Moments: Shifting Tastes & Musical Watersheds

2011-05-20T18:48:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

In 1991, Boyz II Men and DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince put out the unforgettable singles Motownphilly andSummertime. If you were 11 or 12 like I was when those tunes came out, those were THE songs, right? You know you loved them (unless, as I sometimes suspect, all readers of this blog were somehow born with unrelenting, musical erudition). That summer, though, with high school on the horizon, I abandoned them—openlydisdained them even. I hid my cassette singles and in their place new, shiny CDs appeared with pale, British faces on them: from Boyz II Men to Boyz Don’t Cry faster than you can say goodbye to yesterday. (Sorry, kids. I'm kind of old.)

This ebb and flow of our musical interests is common, I think, and though it may not happen as frequently (or dramatically) as it did when we were kids, I think it’s fun to think about how what we listen to changes over the years. My musical tastes certainly have changed and expanded over the last decade. I suspect yours have too. And thank goodness, really.

Skipping ahead another ten years from where I started, the beginning of this decade was rough. 2000-2004 were like musical badlands for us post-alternative, 20-something, suburbanites: our favorite bands kept abandoning us by breaking up (or starting to suck and then breaking up), making bad records, or worse, making the same record over and over again. It took me a while and several John Mayer and Coldplay records before I recovered. (Seriously though, anyone who wants to chat up "Parachutes" or rap about Mayer’s guitar playing hit me up, I didn’t hide those tapes very well.)

I think the watershed moments of our musical pasts are important to reflect on. What we listen to seems to be indicative of other shifts in our often tenuous world-views and brought about by other life changes, subtle or serious. No wonder songs and bands become both touchstones and course markers along the way.
A standout moment for me in the last ten years was when M. Ward and Jim James took the stage with Bright Eyes—Conor Oberst and Mike Mogis—during a 2005, pre-Monsters of Folk Austin City Limits performance. I was in the midst of a shift that year and was looking to shows like ACL and podcasts like NPR’s All Songs Considered for nudges in new sonic directions. Bright Eyes is a force to be reckoned with, to be sure. Oberst was (then even more) strange and catlike and I remember being intrigued (if in a pseudo-literary sense) by his poem-song "Waste of Paint." He also did a lovely waltz with Mogis on mandolin called "We Are Nowhere and It's Now" from the critically acclaimed album I'm Wide Awake It's Morning. But it was when M. Ward and Jim James came out and played songs from their respective main projects that ears perked. Ward played "O'Brien" -- a great song from his now classic, break-through record End of Amnesia (2001). Next, Jim James played the My Morning Jacket tune “Golden” (from It Still Moves, 2003) with Mogis on pedal steel. Something clicked. That Gibson, those chords, that melody, and the lyrics:

Watchin' a stretch of road, miles of light explode.
Driftin' off a thing I'd never done before...
Watchin' a crowd roll in. Out go the lights, it begins.
A feelin' in my bones I never felt before...

I watched and listened again and again. In the process, I discovered—from the first half of that episode—a little band called Wilco (tragically late, I know). And while I can’t trace back all of my current musical interests to that moment, it was very significant.

Tell us a little about your musical histories: What were the moments, songs, albums, artists, blogs, podcasts, tv shows etc. that brought on some kind paradigm shift in your musical world over the last five or ten years? How dramatic were your shifts? And, if you please, what brought on those shifts?
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(As an aside, you gotta love Tweedy's swagger in that first half. So cool. So intense. So much so that it almost seems uncharacteristic, until halfway through the set when he says, "Everybody look under your chairs. We've got a prize for you." An audience member screams "I won!!" way off mic and Jeff adds, "Anybody find my keys?"
And well dressed! Dude's wearing a suit coat(!) and we're talking straight-edge razor shave up in there. Unprecedented.)

Special thanks to Leslie Nichols, Associate Producer on Austin City Limits, for official photos from the show by Scott Newton.

Sarah Jarosz: Song Up In Her Head

2011-05-20T18:45:00.002-08:00

By Jon Stone

As many of us gather together our favorite records of the year I can't help but always feel a bit of a creeping skepticism for the lists that will eventually start to emerge. There are always one or two records that show up in everybody's top ten that I just don't get. It's not that I believe that these bands aren't good or that that their work isn't, like, totally innovative and (Merriweather) post(Pavillion)-modern, I just don't understand how something with such "universal" (or so it would seem) appeal is somehow lost on me. Then there are others, like last year's Punch Brothers record, that seem both innovative and progressive, but also utterly virtuosic and capital-M musical, that barely make a blip on the year-end lists. Sigh. That said, I’m really hoping that Sarah Jarosz’s debut Song Up In Her Head gets more than just a passing fancy.

Jarosz operates in the sonic borderlands between bluegrass, folk, roots, and pop -- a space that continues to defy a satisfactory genre designation. When her record was released back in June, that passing fancy was granted, largely due to Jarosz's cover of the Decemberists' Shankill Butchers. But there is much more happening on Song Up In Her Head. Its ethos as a serious first effort is supported by the staggering list of collaborators on the record: Jerry Douglas, Mike Marshall, Tim O'Brien, Sarah Siskind (of frequent Bon Iver covered fame), Chris Thile, and Abigail Washburn, just to name a few. As her website puts it: "These are not trifling musicians. They are the cream of the post-'grass movement (or whatever it is to be called) much afoot today, and their presence in Jarosz's debut is far from simple courtesy; it is a celebration." And surely, as a multi-instrumentalist (guitar, banjo, mandolin) and songwriter, Sarah is right there in their midst, holding her own.

Astonishingly, Sarah was only 18 when this record came out and her youth imbues the record with a certain untarnished honesty and innocence uncharacteristic of what we normally associate with roots and bluegrass music. Song Up In Her Head captures the perspective of someone who has a very clear sense of adult life at its genesis. Indeed, everything -- love, life, success, failure -- begins now. That moment is one of both fear and hopeful excitement and Jarosz understands it as only someone who is in the midst of it can. More importantly, she sings about that moment in way that makes me remember and long to have that moment back for myself.

Here's Sarah playing my favorite song on the record, Edge Of A Dream, which is also the one that best sums up what I've been talking about. From the Music Fog tour bus in Nashville (9/21/09):

Buy: Sarah Jarosz - Song Up In Her Head

Review: Maps & Atlases / Elsinore / Walkmen - Urbana

2011-05-20T18:42:00.000-08:00

By Jon Stone | @jwstone

Over the weekend I saw three shows in Champaign-Urbana. Each show was a good show--great even. But wow, were they different experiences. This disparateness is one of the things that makes thinking and writing about music appealing: parsing through the musical experience looking for clues and connections of their quality with our resulting affinity. My goal here is to review each of these shows but also make a larger argument (that includes some theorizing--sorry: academic alert) about why it is we like the music we do and what makes for large-scale success.

That argument, however, requires some set-up. (Skip down to the reviews if you have no patience for such things. No one will know!). My friend Cory and I see a lot of live music together and we frequently find ourselves in friendly though sometimes heated discussion about the bands we see. One of the things we've been kicking around lately is this question of what makes a band appealing on a large-scale. In development is a theory of musical archetypes. These archetypes are broader than genre classifications: As you'll see below and probably already know, it's becoming more and more difficult to map genre within popular music--and likely, the easier a band is to classify, the less interesting they are. Again, these archetypes are much bigger, more general "types" and are also, therefore, difficult to name. For now, I'll explore two--a pairing-- and call one "sing" bands and the other "think" bands (corny, but I'm looking for simple terms that sum up the central tenants of the archetype). It is likely that you love bands that belong to either archetype, which I will now attempt to explain:

"Sing" (or "oral") bands dominate the music industry. In fact, I might go so far as to say that the genre designation "pop" encompasses most "sing" bands, but surely not without numerous exceptions (and "pop" bleeds over profusely into the "think" bands [and vice-versa], as you will likely see). "Sing" bands are those that we, (duh) sing along to. We feel the music and the melody on our lips. We hum along. We whistle later. We sing in the car. We we walk down the street singing even though we have our earbuds in, and most of all, we SING at the shows. "Sing" bands are great--they actually have it a bit easier than "think" bands. It's not that the singer is the only thing going on in the band, but those words and vocal melody is, perhaps, the most important element. We connect with the band though that voice and lyric. It's the first point of contact.

"Think" (or "aural") bands are a little bit difficult to explain, but you'd know one if you saw/heard one. I'll argue (and you may disagree) that we primarily experience these bands on an aural (non-speech)/cognitive level and because there isn't a dominant oral cue to pull us in, the musicians have to get us there in some other way. Some do so in a display of technical skill, others with sonic experimentation, while still others figure some other non-oral ways of connecting with the audience. Whatever the case, these bands are usually best experienced live. Watching them do their thing seems important to the process (you frequently hear the description "I can't believe they pulled that off live!"), but also, as I experienced with first band I'll review below, there is something very corporeal to the experience. In other words, our minds and bodies respond.

Ok, on to the show reviews. Sorry to put you through that, but it seemed important to get off my chest for some reason.

Maps & Atlases:

I'm not really a math guy. Maybe that's why I find the phrase "math rock" off-putting. I read somewhere that Maps & Atlases were math-rockers, and I was like, what, they play their set with TI-89 calculators or something? (ooh, bad joke.) Seriously, though--if math rock were the the term to describe the kind of intricate, syncopated (and wow! fast!) phrases that Maps & Atlases employ in their set, wouldn't that make Les Claypool the father of math rock? His imagined response to such a label is enough to again question its validity. And I don't know that the guys in Maps & Atlases could (or would want to!) corroborate that genealogical shot in the dark. Math-rock, indeed.

And man, Maps & Atlases are good! The show on Friday night at the Courtyard Cafe in the University of Illinois student student union was the first full set I've heard from the band, though I saw them play as a part of our Pygmalion fest earlier in the year kind of on a whim. It left me wanting more. I think their first song at Pygmalion was the dizzy waltz titled "Ted Zancha" (see below) and I loved that drummer Chris Hainey was playing the glockenspiel and the drums at the same time. He really sets the pace in Maps & Atlases and he has to in a band so percussive. Dave Davison and Erin Elders play their guitars as if they were instruments of rhythm. Their dueling fret-tapping plays out on stage like an intricate dance--joined frequently in a trio by bassist Shiraz Dada.

It was during their Friday set that part of that above theory started to be formulated. Davison wasn't knocking me out with his live vocals--which are unique to be sure, but get a bit buried in the other amazing stuff going on during the live set. But they got me dancing and thinking and counting (damn! math!--but seriously, I've never heard so many syncopated triplets [or whatever they were] inside an up-tempo, 4/4 measure). These guys have something really special going on and you can hear it on their latest EP You Me and the Mountain and you should, but you MUST see these guys to really understand. Take a little peek below to see what I mean, care of their MySpace page.

I got a chance to visit with Davison and Dada a bit before their set. I wondered about this hammered semi-acoustic, arch-top that Davison uses sometimes. He told me it's a Harmony "Rocket" and was the first guitar he ever bought--$40 at a pawn shop. It had been his second-string guitar until he decided to take it on tour (rather than the beautiful 50's era Gibson--his main axe--on a plane). Anyway, Davison knows the guitar tech who does work for fellow-Chicagoan Andrew Bird. "He took it and made it ring," Davison said-- and wow, did it ever.

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Elsinore:

When I first moved to Champaign a few years ago, I immediately tried to get a feeling for the local music scene. I didn't know yet how amazing our little college town was at attracting interesting acts, and in Phoenix, AZ where I moved from there only seemed to be two options for live music: the unbearably huge arena shows and the small, under-appreciated local bands at semi-deserted Phoenix and Tempe clubs. I first saw and was impressed by our local band Elsinore at Urbana's Corn Festival late in the summer of 2007, though they've been playing together for over five years now.

It wasn't, however, until I saw Ryan Groff (lead-singer & songwriter) play a solo show that I started to get excited about his band. For all Elsinore's musical prowess, it's Groff's work as a vocalist that makes the band a standout. And for those of us who fancy ourselves musical, his voice is truly cause for envy: It's BIG with dynamic range that reaches higher than you think it should into the falscetto stratosphere. But along with the voice, his song-writing is strong and there is some real technical skill in the craft that you can see on display both at Elsinore shows and when performing solo.

I saw Elsinore (which I so hope was inspired by Strange Brew--"I'm taking you to the loony bin, eh." "Take off, eh! Take me to the brewery!") on Saturday night back at the Courtyard Cafe. Elsinore is currently on tour warming up material from their as-yet unreleased new album "Yes Yes Yes". From the material I've heard online and at shows, it's going to be fantastic. Elsinore works well as an example in the "sing" archetype. You just can't help it. Near the end of "Wooden Houses," for example, Groff starts singing the refrain: "This is how hunger strikes begin." I promise that you will be hard pressed not to be singing along by the end of the song. Groff frequently introduces the song, as he did Saturday night, as a song about getting married while George W. was president. He may have even dedicated it to those of us who got married in that era. Dedication accepted.

Here's a great clip of the band singing my song on the streets of Boulder and a link to them playing it in a more traditional setting. Check this band out, folks. They're not just for mid-westerners. I wish them all the luck I can muster and promise to write again here when the record comes out.

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The Walkmen

After the Elsinore set was over, I wandered over to the beautiful Krannert Center for the Performing Arts. Krannert hosted the incredible guitar festival Ellnora a few months ago where we were graced with the talent of (to name just a few) Jerry Douglas, Bill Frisell, The National and National side-project "The Long Count" (which featured Kim and Kelly Deal and Shara Worden) as well as hosting the headliners from our amazing Pygmalion Festival each year that I've lived here (Andrew Bird, Yo La Tengo, and Iron & Wine).

Krannert is piece of art on its own and the Walkmen added to it by playing an incredible (free!) show on Saturday night. They played every song you might have hoped to hear and tried out several new ones (see the set list below). I'd never seen them before and I was so impressed by their focus, their musicianship, their unique style, and Hamilton Leithauser's voice. Wow. The Walkmen have that it that is easy to hear but so difficult to write about. And they have received praise and success relative to that it. This actually becomes the most important part of my argument that I started above: this "it" is created by just the right mixture of the above sing/think archetypes. The Walkmen do this. Their set had me rapt: vintage instruments, mid-set instrument switching, one guitarist that sounded like three, impossibly fast, intense drumming, songs that I have had in my head ever since. It was all there. Radiohead and Wilco are the best examples I can think of in our modern music sphere. But think any respected band where there is a fairly wide-spread consensus on their quality. These are the bands that make us sing and make us think. They change and mutate the boundaries of our tastes. They make us want to research and explore their influences. They become our favorites.

Granted, some folks will disagree. And others have tastes that hard-line on either side and just can't see what the big deal is about bands that fall outside of their particular leanings. To be clear, also, all of the bands I have discussed above have a mix of attributes from either archetype. There were fans SINGING along at the Maps & Atlases show and if you've seen Groff operate a loop pedal or analyzed the complexities of his vocal melodies you'll realize how smart his music is. But sometimes bands just play their one note and that's it and they seem happy to do so. For me, that's just not enough.

The Walkmen's set:

On the Water / In the New Year / new song /Canadian Girl / Four Provinces /What's in it For Me / Thinking of a Dream I Had / Postcards From Tiny Island / new song / The Rat / new song / Donde Esta la Playa / All Hands and the Cook / Little House of Savages