Don't just do something, stand there

Hiatus

2010-07-14T15:55:00.002-04:00

As if you couldn't tell, this lil' blog is officially on hiatus. Head over to Donewaiting and/or The Other Paper for current stuff.

Favorite albums of 2009

2009-12-29T16:16:00.000-05:00

Larry Jon Wilson takes my top spot. Full list here:
http://www.donewaiting.com/2009/12/29/favorite-albums-of-2009-by-joel-oliphint/

Saturday night

2009-11-13T16:29:00.002-05:00

Bob Dylan is coming to town

2009-10-27T11:36:00.005-04:00

Dylan is playing the LC Pavilion this Tuesday, Nov. 3, and (fortunately) he hasn't been playing stuff from his recent Christmas album. I saw Dylan the last time he came to Columbus, at the Schottenstein Center, and I still hold that the man is worth seeing, growling mumble-singing and all.

So as a preview, I'm just going to post my review that ran in the Other Paper after that October 2007 concert—a defense, of sorts, for why it's still a big deal when Dylan comes to town.

Other than introducing his band Saturday night, Bob Dylan didn’t say a word to the crowd gathered at the Schottenstein Center. This isn’t rare for Dylan, and it actually makes sense. When you’re an American icon/legend/cultural revolutionary who’s now 66 years old, what’s left to say?

While writing this review, the same question tugged at my own brain. The piece is necessary, of course, because Bob Dylan came to town, and one can’t ignore a concert like that. And yet, it’s also entirely unnecessary because, really, what’s left to say? I won’t pretend to add anything groundbreaking to the vast amount of critical praise that has been heaped upon Dylan over the years, but from a practical standpoint, just know this: He’s still worth seeing. Very much so. And that’s what most people wonder about Dylan these days, isn’t it? Sure, we recognize and acknowledge his influence and the sense of history he carries with him, but is he still worth paying $40 to $70 (plus surcharges) to see in person? “After all,” you might say, “he never could sing too well, and I heard he can barely carry a tune now.” Dylan acknowledged this question Saturday night in the song “Spirit on the Water” when he sang, “You think I’m over the hill/You think I’m past my prime.” The audience collectively responded no, and they were right.

Bob Johnston, who produced Dylan’s Highway 61 Revisited, Blonde on Blonde and others, said in Martin Scorsese’s Dylan documentary, No Direction Home, “I think God, instead of touching [Dylan] on the shoulder, he kicked him in the ass. That’s where all that came from. He can’t help what he’s doing. I mean he’s got the Holy Spirit about him.” Sure, Dylan can’t sing the way he used to, and there was certainly a part of me wishing that I could hear him belt out, “How does it feeeeel.” But his other-worldly inspiration is still present; it just manifests itself in a different form these days, with Dylan in a wide-rimmed hat and cowboy boots rasping and spitting his lyrics as if they’re poisonous gravel that can only be spewed in short bursts.

Dylan also realizes the importance of a great backing band. The musicians were flawless and as tight as a band could be, following Dylan’s lead with ease--all he had to do was vaguely nod his head or slightly flick his wrist to indicate a change. Lead guitarist Denny Freeman was especially fun to hear, playing his solos with vigor and creativity while never upstaging the man we all came to see. Drummer George Recile established the groove for each song and added tasteful flourishes to keep it all interesting. Dylan only played his electric guitar on the first three tunes (“Rainy Day Women #12 & 35,” “It Ain’t Me, Babe” and “Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues”), then stood behind the keys the rest of the night.

Other than those opening songs and closer “All Along the Watchtower,” the set list drew heavily from 2006’s Modern Times, mostly songs of love and heartbreak. The days of Dylan the protest singer are long gone, of course, but he can convey emotions in a surrealistic way that makes him just as relevant today. The fact that Dylan’s a creepy guy sometimes works in his favor, too--the renditions of “Ballad of a Thin Man” and “Ain’t Talkin’ ” felt vaguely downright haunting.

In “Thunder on the Mountain,” the first song of his encore, Dylan sang, “I’ve been thinking ‘bout Alicia Keys, couldn’t keep from crying... I’m wondering where in the world Alicia Keys could be.” It’s the perfect example of a Dylan song that’s simultaneously antiquated (uses a bluesy boogie structure), modern (references Alicia Keys) and somewhat inscrutable (Dylan’s looking for Alicia Keys?). He seems to realize that we’re continually drawn to what we don’t immediately understand, and Dylan certainly isn’t going to do any explaining for us, which is probably another reason he doesn’t engage in witty stage banter--all the puzzle pieces are right there in the songs. We just have to put them together.

Kurt Vile

2009-10-26T10:13:00.000-04:00

My Q&A with Kurt Vile:
http://www.pastemagazine.com/articles/2009/10/best-of-whats-next-kurt-vile.html

Stephen Colbert and the Mountain Goats

2009-10-07T12:46:00.001-04:00

Fun interview, good performance, great album.

David Bazan - Curse Your Branches

2009-09-03T21:49:00.003-04:00

Musicians who sing about their faith often are polarizing, and David Bazan is no exception. Bazan is best-known for his work with former band Pedro the Lion, which specialized in slowcore confessionals with doleful vocals. In the past, some listeners gave his lyrics a cursory glance and snidely wrote him off as just another underperforming, devout evangelical. Meanwhile, many evangelicals bristled at Bazan’s constant, not-so-subtle skewering of their culture. And his drinking.

Bazan’s struggles with faith have been a consistent theme in his work—one minute he’s singing God’s praises, the next minute he’s doubting God altogether. Until recently, though, faith has always trumped. “I could tell you why I doubt it, and why I still believe,” he sang on “The Fleecing” from 2004’s Achilles Heel.

But doubt is back with a vengeance on Curse Your Branches, so much so that Bazan has surrendered to it. Struggle has turned into defiance, belief to disbelief. “You expect me to believe/That all this misbehaving grew from one enchanted tree?” he asks on album opener “Hard to Be.” And later, on the title track, he digs his heels in harder: “All fallen leaves should curse their branches/For not letting them decide where they should fall/And not letting them refuse to fall at all.” Of all the Big Questions, the one that seems to rankle him the most is: If God is good, then why is there evil in the world? “If you knew what would happen,” Bazan sings on “When We Fell,” “and made us just the same/Then you, my Lord, can take the blame.”

In Pedro the Lion, many of Bazan’s first-person narratives weren’t (entirely) self-referential; Control (2002) was a concept album that chronicled the destruction of a fictitious marriage. But that’s not what Bazan is doing here, and the record is better for it.

And while Bazan’s voice will always be ponderous no matter the instrumentation, this new music is less sludgy. If Pedro the Lion albums were dark basement rooms, Curse Your Branches is renovated with some windows that, from time to time, even let in soft breezes, usually in the form of longtime collaborator Casey Foubert’s pedal steel or little bits of keyboard, like the synthesized strings on “Heavy Breath.” The bluesy bounce of “When We Fell” also finds Bazan at his jauntiest, but he still loves taking things at a snail’s pace (“Harmless Sparks,” “In Stitches”).

There’s nothing breezy about Bazan’s state of mind, though. He hit a crossroads and made a decision, yet he’s anything but at peace with it. There are the possible cosmic implications, but even more so, Curse Your Branches is about the effect his decision (and his drinking habit, which is indicative of that decision) has on the people around him, particularly his family. “The gap between what I hoped would be/And what is/Makes me weep for my kids,” Bazan sings on “Bearing Witness.” He also fears that his doubt will “spread like original sin,” and wonders whether his baby daughter will “soon despise the smell of the booze on my breath like her mom.”

The most heartbreaking family portrait comes on “Please Baby Please,” a phrase that describes the look in his wife’s eyes, and then is pleaded by Bazan over the phone to his silent spouse. On the last verse, his daughter (in the future) enters the grim picture: “Sunrise at the county lockup/Now our baby’s 23/She was out late drinking/Killed a mother of three/She said please daddy please.”

Bazan’s spiritual journey is far from over. On the final track he admits he still hears the voice of the “captain,” and that his daughter is lately full of Big Questions, too. So there’s more to come. But for now, this crisis of faith has led him to create the best album of his career.

mp3: David Bazan - Bless This Mess

(Also at The Other Paper)

Things

2009-08-25T14:49:00.005-04:00

Here's what I've been up to lately over at The Other Paper:

Review of Paper Airplane's new CD, White Elephants (local)

Low Anthem/Langhorne Slim live review

Reviews of Monolithic Cloud Parade's debut, Children with Wolf Heads, and Wing & Tusk's debut, The Secret of Toadflax Tea (both local)

Live reviews of Bicentennial Bear, Miranda Sound, Jon Chinn + 1803 (locals)

Brian Harnetty: Paste's "Artist of the Week"

2009-08-10T12:21:00.002-04:00

I've written about Brian Harnetty before, so I won't go into a long preamble about him. But he's a talented dude from Columbus, and I was happy Paste let me write about him for its website's "Artist of the Week" feature. You can read it here.

Silent City, Harnetty's new album featuring Bonnie "Prince Billy, is out tomorrow on Atavistic Records.

CBUS Sound Project Symposium tomorrow

2009-08-07T13:56:00.006-04:00

So tomorrow I'll be on a panel from 3:40-4:30 with Donewaiting.com's Wes Flexner and some other folks to talk about Columbus music, Columbus media and such. There's lots of other stuff going on, too, from 1-7 pm: performances, DJ Detox, booking discussions, etc. Here's the summary from the website and promo poster:

“The CBUS Sound Project Symposium is a celebration of Columbus Music. In conjunction with our Idea Lab program, this day of learning and performance includes panels on booking, promoting, and community organizing. Complimentary hand-roasted coffee is generously provided by local purveyor, Cafe Brioso. Free and open to all.”

Larry Jon Wilson, Columbus bands in Spin

2009-08-05T16:07:00.003-04:00

I reviewed the new Larry Jon Wilson album for the August edition Spin. You can check it out on pg. 93 in print or the digital edition.

Also in that issue: Spin's list of the "100 greatest bands you've (probably) never heard of," which is a good read, especially because it includes four legendary Columbus bands: Gaunt, Great Plains, Royal Crescent Mob and Scrawl.

Antlers' "Hospice" gets Best New Music tag from Pfork

2009-08-04T11:41:00.002-04:00

And it's well-deserved. Maybe next time they come through town there'll be more than three people in the bar?

Tonight: Bicentennial Bear, Jon Chinn + 1803, Ghost Shirt

2009-08-01T10:58:00.003-04:00

The Summit is where I'll be tonight. But mainly I'm just posting this because the poster is awesome.

More Larry Jon

2009-07-16T12:10:00.000-04:00

Really nice interview with LJW by Stephen Deusner here.

Royal City

2009-07-07T11:06:00.002-04:00

Review of the band's new Asthmatic Kitty retrospective here. Recommended.

More Blurting

2009-07-03T12:51:00.001-04:00

Review of Foreign Born's Person to Person here. Wasn't blown away.

Ch-ch-changes

2009-06-30T14:35:00.003-04:00

Donewaiting head honcho Robert Duffy made an announcement yesterday, but I should probably address it briefly here, since I've been maintaining this blog on a semi-regular basis.

So Duffy's heading to New York to take a great job there, and while he'll be continuing Donewaiting from NYC, he asked me if I'd be the Columbus editor. I was flattered and honored that he would ask me, and I couldn't say no. I'm excited to get started. ...My wife is due with our second child in the next two weeks, so the exact start date is TBD at this point, but probably not before August.

I'll still be writing for The Other Paper on a regular basis. Hopefully a couple of other publications off and on, too. This blog will undoubtedly be updated less often but supplanted with posting over at Donewaiting.com, so add that to the ol' RSS reader if it's not there already.

Comfest is fun

2009-06-28T10:20:00.005-04:00

The stabbing puts kind of a damper on the whole peaceful community vibe of Comfest (so sad), but Saturday was a fun day nevertheless. I particularly enjoyed Bookmobile's set (that's singer Sean Gardner above). If you're in Columbus and haven't made it down yet--shame on you!-- there's still good music and fun times to be had today.

More on my Saturday Comfest experience later...

Dirty Projectors - Wexner Center, 6-21

2009-06-24T12:36:00.002-04:00

I imagine that by this point, David Longstreth, singer/guitarist and driving force behind Dirty Projectors, is tired of his band being referred to as “brainy.” It’s a tough tag to avoid when you’re a former music-major Yale grad who intricately crafts compositions that are near-impossible to categorize using other musical precedents.

The great thing about Dirty Projectors, though, is that anything that may come across as high-minded is balanced with something high-spirited, thereby dodging pretension. It takes significantly more knowledge and musical prowess than your typical rock band to sing and play the songs this band performed Sunday night at the Wexner Center. Yet the six musicians played with an organic ease and all the while maintained an electricity that was enveloping. (Not to mention the fact that, because the Brooklyn band’s van broke down in St. Clairsville on the way to the gig, they were playing with borrowed gear from the disappointing opener, Skeletons.)

Elvis Costello’s claim that writing about music is like “dancing about architecture” never rang so true as when attempting to describe Dirty Projectors. I could say that Longstreth conjures up the soulfulness and cadence of R&B singers; that the treble-heavy, snaking guitar lines have a distinct African influence; that the three supremely talented female singers contribute harmonies so complex that at times it’s difficult to even distinguish who’s singing; that the drummer’s big beats incorporate oddly-timed experimentalism, reggae and Led Zeppelin’s “When the Levee Breaks.”

But none of that really does it justice, especially those ladies—Haley Dekle, Angel Deradoorian and Amber Coffman—whose vocal theatrics were consistently the highlights of the show. “Remade Horizon,” off the recently released Bitte Orca, began with an extended vocal intro of start-and-stop, staccato harmonies that sounded so intricate yet so precise, like an entire section of computer-controlled woodwinds. And Coffman’s lead vocals on “Stillness is the Move” showcased a freakish range that could hold its own next to Mariah Carey, a singer she closely resembled on that tune. Coffman threw herself into the song, and her dancing only added to the impact.

It’s a little tough to relate to the lyrics, though, especially in a concert setting. These songs take a little while to comfortably settle. But Longstreth seems to be a lyricist more concerned with how the words sound than what they mean. The singers’ inflections and affected pronunciations convey a word’s impact more than its dictionary definition. The concert opener, “Two Doves,” which featured only Longstreth on guitar and Deradoorian on vocals, was one of the few songs that was entirely decipherable, a (love?) song with a refrain of “Call on me” that starts off describing a lover as a “geranium kisser, skin like silk and face like glass,” but later as a “geranium killer, throat of soil and mind like stone.” The soft song was the closest Dirty Projectors came to a ballad, and it was the prettiest of the night.

“Bitte Orca” wins the prize for most frenetic, cacophonic and virtuosic of the night. The level of choreography was breathtaking, as were the women’s preternatural, siren howls. I also enjoyed hearing “Rise Above” from the album of the same name, which was Longstreth’s re-imagination of Black Flag’s seminal 1981 debut album, Damaged.

Brainy? Yes, but this band-of-the-moment is also a lot of fun.

Larry Jon Wilson

2009-06-18T11:33:00.004-04:00

Last year I talked to Jerry DeCicca of the Black Swans about an album he produced by a guy named Larry Jon Wilson, an old Nashville singer-songwriter who hadn't recorded a new album in almost 30 years. We chatted back and forth about the story for a while, and finally Drag City is releasing the record on Tuesday. So after a year of talking and exploring Wilson's music, I was at last able to put some words on paper. You can read the story in The Other Paper this week, or online here.

I had more fun working on this story than any others I've written in a long time. Hopefully that comes through. And I can't recommend Larry Jon Wilson's new eponymous record highly enough.

Blurting about Sinkane

2009-06-15T12:30:00.004-04:00

Ahmed Gallab--the Columbus expat behind experimental act Sinkane--released his most recent album, Sinkane, pretty quietly in May. Probably because he was touring with Born Ruffians at the time. But it's his best work yet, incorporating lots of influences only hinted at on Color Voice.

I wrote a short feature on the album and Ahmed's recent escapades for Blurt, an online/print venture from the guys behind Harp. It's called "The Go-To Guru," and you can read it here.

Jenny Lewis with the Sadies - Wexner Center, 6-6

2009-06-09T16:40:00.001-04:00

Before Jenny Lewis played the Black Box on the Mershon stage at the Wexner Center on Saturday, the venue screened Welcome to Van Nuys, a documentary about the making of Lewis’s most recent album, Acid Tongue. Much of the doc focused on guests who contributed to a track or two. There was Elvis Costello lending his scruffy vocals to “Carpetbaggers,” M. Ward playing some moody guitar on “Pretty Bird” and actress/musician Zooey Deschanel—who, with Ward, make up 2008 breakout duo She & Him—singing all sorts of oohs and ahs. There were some fun fly-on-the-studio-wall moments, but it also conveyed the feeling that these big names were an essential part of the songs.

The live show proved that isn’t the case at all. Lewis doesn’t need any help. She certainly has a terrific, talented backing band, but her shockingly strong voice carried the show. In fact, I’d take Lewis any day over Deschanel. Even when she’s singing in a low whisper, this redhead’s got soul.

The former child actress also has charisma to spare, hopping back and forth between playful dork (wearing her own shirt) and sensual diva (flaunting her curves). The crowd was putty in her hands, especially drooling fanboys, whose occasional between-song shout-outs (“You’re amazing!”; “How do you do that?!”) were some of the few low points.

Lewis got her start in indie-pop act Rilo Kiley, but her solo projects have found her pursuing a much rootsier vibe that, to my ears, fits her voice and songwriting style more comfortably. When the band left the stage to allow her to tackle some songs on her own, Lewis played an acoustic version of the Rilo Kiley tune “Silver Lining,” a song she said she has recently “reclaimed,” and it’s all the more gorgeous for it. Most of the songs came from Acid Tongue and Rabbit Fur Coat, the 2006 album Lewis put out with the Watson twins. Drummer Barbara Gruska and singer/guitarist Danielle Haim were more than capable of handling the country-style Watson harmonies and backing vocals from Acid, sounding especially nice on the gospel-tinged “Trying My Best to Love You.” And Lewis’s beau, guitarist and oft-songwriting collaborator Jonathan Rice, played the Costello role just fine on “Carpetbaggers.”

I’m not sure why the band chose to have its sound tech onstage during the entire performance—tuning guitars, scribbling things and looking awkward—but that was the only distracting element. The band buoyed Lewis superbly, from the loud, stompy blues of “The Next Messiah” to the backing choir effect on “Acid Tongue.” Columbus also got a taste of two new songs. “Just Like Zeus” was “kinda” about Lindsay Lohan (“Outside of Silver Lake, I am the biggest fake”), and “Big Wave” was the most epic rocker of the night. Both got me excited for what Lewis has in store for the next record, with or without high-profile guest spots.

Openers the Sadies from Toronto were impressive, too, though not quite as much as they were a few weeks ago playing with John Doe at the Rumba Cafe. While the Wex is a great place to have crystal-clear sound and a mostly quiet crowd, some bands just look and sound more at home on a cramped stage in a sweaty, crowded bar. Brothers Dallas and Travis Good’s virtuosic guitar skills still blew me away, especially Travis’s lightning-fast licks and liberal use of tremolo, which gave even his most country licks Dick Dale surf-rock overtones. His throaty singing was cool, too, but Dallas’s delicious baritone trumped it on “Anna Leigh” and “The Story’s Often Told.” In general, though, the Sadies let the guitars do the talking, throwing in lots of short-and-sweet instrumentals and approaching it all with ferocity.

It was the Sadies’ last night on this tour, and they were very gracious, thankful dudes. Hopefully next time they come through town it’ll be in a setting a little less stale.

mp3: Jenny Lewis - Silver Lining (solo live 4-13-09)

Jenny Lewis can sing

2009-06-08T08:14:00.004-04:00

That may seem obvious, but listening to her records doesn't do her voice justice. She can really sing, and her show at the Wexner Center Saturday night proved it. Full review coming soon. For now, more pics from the show here.

Free Grievances

2009-06-05T12:19:00.004-04:00

If you're a person who has thought, "That band Titus Andronicus sounds interesting, but not interesting enough to pay for," or, "I really wish I had a job and/or steady source of income so I could afford that Titus Andronicus album," then today is your lucky day.

The Glen Rock, New Jersey boys' 2008 debut, The Airing of Grievances (which was picked up by XL Recordings and re-released this year), is available as a free download today only.

The Decemberists with Blind Pilot - LC Pavilion, 6-1

2009-06-03T11:35:00.008-04:00

Conventional wisdom says that once a band jumps from an indie label up to the majors, the band satisfies its new corporation and larger audience with a more mainstream version of itself—something safe, with all the edges smoothed out. The Decemberists proved that notion false on 2006’s The Crane Wife as Colin Meloy, the band’s singer, songwriter and driving creative force, traded in some of his Brit-folk tendencies for a more grandiose vision, accompanying a bizarre Japanese legend with a (somewhat) unexpected dose of prog rock—keyboards, noodling guitars and all.

It wasn’t just a novelty experiment, either. The Portland band’s second outing on Capitol is this year’s The Hazards of Love, an audacious, ambitious, riff-heavy rock opera with a storyline about a woman named Margaret and her lover William, the son of a forest queen. There’s not an obvious single on the album; it plays more like one long song, titles merely indicating the tale’s progression. Not your typical major-label product.

Monday night at the LC Pavilion, the Decemberists played The Hazards of Love from start to finish, no breaks in between songs, no banter. For someone who wasn’t as familiar with Hazards going into the show, it felt a little lengthy and lacked some energy during the slower tunes. But for the most part, I was enthralled by the epicness of it all.

Meloy still has his Victorian Literature professor persona, but watching him was like realizing that not only does your nerdy college prof listen to Deep Purple and the Who, he can rip it up just like them, too, bounding around the stage pseudo-shredding and head-banging. And wow, the metal. The Decemberists threw in some rafter-shaking, low-end power (guitarist Chris Funk was a treat) that make you forget this band ever played folk ditties like “Eli, the Barrow Boy.” They’d never fit into Rock on the Range or anything (fortunately), but if this were the ’70s, people would just assume the Decemberists made sacrifices to Satan, or at least had an unhealthy obsession with Lord of the Rings.

Adding to the theatrics of it all were female singers Becky Stark (aka Lavender Diamond) and Shara Worden (aka My Brightest Diamond). Stark came out dressed in all white and accompanied her singing parts with flamboyant gestures and dancing, as did Worden, who stole the freakin’ show every single time she stepped up to the mic. Her manic stage moves were captivating, and her voice, oh man, her voice. During “The Wanting Comes in Waves,” as she belted out “Consider it your debt repaaaaid!” the whole crowd spontaneously cheered in admiration and excitement. I find Meloy’s affected, overly enunciated vocals mostly endearing, but Worden was still a welcome reprieve.

After The Hazards of Love was completed, the band took a long break before coming back to play favorites like “Leslie Anne Levine,” “We Both Go Down Together,” “16 Military Wives” and “Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then).” All sounded great, demonstrating the depth and diversity of the band’s catalog. Before the encore, Worden and Stark returned to the stage for Heart’s “Crazy on You,” a fun cover that may have been my favorite song of the night. It also made me really want to hear Worden front a real-deal rock ’n roll band—something a little less, er, arty, than My Brightest Diamond.

The band ended the show with “Sons & Daughters,” a song with wonderfully quirky instrumentation: bouzouki, accordion and hurdy-gurdy. As the crowd sang along to the refrain, “Hear all the bombs fade away,” it was a good reminder, along with “16 Military Wives,” that Meloy can do topical material (remember Iraq?) in addition to proggy tales of unrequited love and folky Civil War ghost stories. With the Decemberists, you can have your johnnycake and eat it, too.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least briefly mention opener Blind Pilot, also from Portland. Israel Nebeker’s buttery vocals sound even better live than on the band’s lovely folk-pop debut, 3 Rounds and a Sound. It’s probably a bit too breezy for those who only like the Decemberists at their most ELP, but Nebeker’s uncommonly good songwriting shouldn’t be ignored. Expect to hear lots more about these guys in the future.

More pics

Recording

2009-05-28T12:40:00.004-04:00

Wrote a cover story for this week's Other Paper about professional recording studios and home recording. You can read it digital-style here.

(Side note: Not sure why the sub-head for this story ended up being "Recording studios struggling in DIY era." Kinda oversimplified and a little misleading.)

King Khan & the Shrines - Wexner Center

2009-05-27T14:15:00.003-04:00

I’ll admit that when I first heard about King Khan and the Shrines, I wrote them off as another gimmicky band with a retro schtick. It all seemed like a big joke—the outrageous costumes, the sweaty, man-boob-bearing bandleader, the various genre-aping from the ’60s.

But last Thursday at the Wexner Center, I became a believer. I was putty in Khan’s hands, and from the looks of it, the rest of the crowd was, too.

After removing the aforementioned preconceptions, listening to King Khan and the Shrines is like rummaging through a box at Used Kids and discovering a dusty LP with a faded cover image and browned record sleeve, putting it under the needle and realizing you’ve just discovered an unfairly discarded relic of yesteryear. Eric Khan, the Montreal-born son of Indian immigrants, audaciously borrows from classic soul (think James Brown and Little Richard) and filters it through the Rolling Stones. It’s garage rock/punk with boundless enthusiasm, not unlike Vice Records labelmates the Black Lips, but with more bombast, theatrics and a sense of humor that could make robots chuckle.

Khan’s lyrics aren’t just tongue-in-cheek. They’re completely over the top, which matched his leopard-skin coat and the band’s matching gold-and-black outfits (including Bamboorella, a go-go dancer who gyrated with pompoms throughout the set). This is a guy who wrote a chorus that goes “My baby’s fat, she’s ugly/She’s fat and she’s ugly but I love her.” You can find that one, “Took My Lady to Dinner,” on The Supreme Genius of King Khan and The Shrines, which Vice released in the U.S. last year as a best-of compiled from his previous internationally released material. (Vice also released What Is?!, featuring some of the same tracks, last month.)

It can be pretty hilarious (and raunchy) but this wasn’t a comedy show—even when Kahn came out shirtless for the encore, beer gut flapping, with a golden cape and battle helmet. The band played some great tunes, and played them well.

While Wexner Center crowds are usually pretty tame, Khan had the Black Box on the Mershon Stage going nuts the entire time. I’ve seen a little bit of moshing here and there when punk bands play the Wex, but this was a whole other level. A room full of twenty-something white dudes (and some women scattered throughout) freaked out to the Shrines like college girls at a fraternity party do when they hear “Come on Eileen.” Insane. I even saw a guy up front smoking a joint and then attempt to pass it to Khan, who either ignored it or pretended to ignore it—a prudent move, since security was all over it.

The Shrines—all 10—were no less tame. The keyboard player made Jerry Lee Lewis’s antics look tame, and the guitarist was never stationary for more than a millisecond. I loved the double sax attack, plus trumpet. Songs like “69 Faces of Love” just scream for that horn section. I didn’t hear the percussionist much, but his oddball stage presence just added to the ambience. “Land of the Freak” revealed Khan at his James Browniest, and “Welfare Bread” (“You don’t have to pay your bills anymore now/You just have to eat my welfare breaaaaad”) sounded most like authentic doo-wop.

The shout-out to the New Bomb Turks, “Columbus’s finest,” probably scored him some points with the crowd, but there was no ingratiating needed. Khan was indeed king.

John Doe and the Sadies - Rumba Cafe

2009-05-27T14:10:00.002-04:00

Decked out in a sharp-looking brown suit, John Doe welcomed the Rumba Cafe crowd to a “country-western Sunday jamboree” on Mother’s Day evening. And that’s pretty much what it was, as Doe led his backing band—immensely talented Canadian roots-rockers the Sadies—through a set of songs by country royalty like Johnny Cash, Porter Wagoner, Waylon Jennings and Merle Haggard.

Doe got his start back in the late ’70s playing bass and sharing vocal duties in X, one of the most influential and critically celebrated punk bands to come out of Los Angeles. Cult followers of X shouldn’t be too surprised to see Doe leading a country jamboree. X routinely used dashes of country and folk in its punk-rock recipe, and when the band reincarnated briefly as the Knitters (with Dave Alvin on guitar instead of Billy Zoom), it was more Carter Family than the Weirdos. And Doe’s first solo outing, Meet John Doe, cast off all punk leanings for a rootsy vibe.

Fast-forward almost 20 years, and the 55-year-old Doe has finally put out an album of almost entirely classic country songs. Country Club, released last month, pays tribute to the big boys, but Doe’s distaste of melodrama and the Sadies’ fiery musicianship and knack for nostalgic-yet-subversive arrangements allow it to be much more than a cover album.

The live show rose far above any cover-band cliché, as well. The band kicked off the night with Johnny Cash’s “I Still Miss Someone,” speeding up Cash’s signature boom-chicka-boom into a rollicking number. Doe’s worn voice was rich as a strong cup of coffee, and it fit this song and all the others perfectly. He joked that his acoustic guitar’s strings were just there to protect the finish, but it still added a nice texture.

The real guitar work, though, came courtesy of brothers Dallas and Travis Good. This was my first time seeing the Sadies live, and good golly can they play their instruments, which made instrumentals like “Sudbury Nickel” just as interesting as the other tunes. (It helped to have a near-perfect sound mix, too.) The brothers’ vocal harmonies also were spot-on; Dallas even took lead on a couple of tunes and showcased a shockingly good baritone.

Everybody on the stage was a showman, too. Doe has had decades to master communicating to a crowd, not to mention dozens of bit parts in movies and TV shows, and the Good brothers played all their parts with panache—even meeting at center stage to play each other’s guitar at one point.

Whatever kind of country floats your boat, John Doe and the Sadies played it, albeit filtered through their own signature sound. There was ’70s Nashville (Tammy Wynette’s “‘Til I Get it Right”), outlaw country (a smoking version of Waylon Jennings’ “Stop the World and Let Me Off” and an ever-so-slightly psychedelic take on Kris Kristofferson’s “Help Me Make it Through the Night”) and Bakersfield honky-tonk (Haggard’s “Are the Good Times Really Over for Good,” with the timely line, “Wish a Ford and a Chevy could still last ten years like they should”).

While Doe mentioned a few different times how disconcerting it was to have the sun shining through the window while the band played (it was an early show), the whole experience was anything but disconcerting. Rather, it was one of the most fun, refreshing shows I’ve seen this year.

Playing catchup

2009-05-27T14:08:00.001-04:00

Long time no post. Above are some late reviews of recent concerts.

Saturday - Agora

2009-05-14T13:54:00.004-04:00

I've got a full slate of commitments this weekend, but if you don't, you should check out the Agora festival going on at Junctionview Studios in Grandview. Put on by the Couchfire Collective, there'll be lots of local artists selling their wares, vendors, food & drinks and a terrific lineup of local acts. I guarantee it'll be more fun (and sound better) than Rock on the Range. Here's Saturday's main-stage lineup. Check Agora's website for more bands playing a second stage and indoors.

Main stage:
Noon - Our Cat Philip
1 pm - The Kyle Sowashes
2 pm - Dr. Kenny Delicious
3 pm - The Language Our Fathers Forgot
4 pm - Melty Melty
5 pm - The Slide Machine
6 pm - Karate Coyote
7 pm - Wing & Tusk
8 pm - Six Gallery
9 pm - Pretty Mighty Mighty
10 pm - HighJinks Fire Show
11 pm - Agora Hip Hop Showcase

Paste magazine seeking bailout

2009-05-14T10:45:00.003-04:00

Apparent the Georgia-based music magazine is in a lot of debt. Here's some links to explain things:

- The campaign to save Paste

- Paste's letter to readers

- Paste's letter to contributors (many of whom apparently haven't been getting paid recently)

- Atlanta Journal-Constitution's story about the situation, w/ editor Josh Jackson interview

- Rundown/analysis from Blurt (formerly Harp)

Recent release roundup

2009-05-13T11:22:00.011-04:00

The Veils - Sun Gangs
The third full-length from the Veils finds the band progressing from its folk-influenced beginnings to something comfortably bigger, as if writing anthems was never a stated goal, just an organic consequence. The brains behind the London-based crew is Finn Andrews (son of XTC’s Barry Andrews), who has an uncommonly good voice—versatile enough to sound natural yowling or crooning. The best songs are piano-led, such as leadoff track “Sit Down by the Fire,” along with a few darkly pretty ballads. The peppier songs are hit and miss: “The Letter” is War-era U2 done well, but “Killed by the Boom” is post-punk gone awry. “Larkspur,” at 8 1/2 minutes, is a bit bloated. So Sun Gangs is inconsistent, but when it’s good, it’s really good. And when it misses, it still comes pretty close.

Tinted Windows - Tinted Windows
Tinted Windows is one of the oddest supergroups you’ll find. That’s James Iha, formerly of Smashing Pumpkins, on guitar, Fountains of Wayne’s Adam Schlesinger on bass and 57-year-old Bun E. Carlos of Cheap Trick on drums. The singer? Taylor Hanson, the middle brother from Hanson. Not surprisingly, this is power pop (emphasis on the pop). Say what you will about Hanson, but the guy can sing a hook that’ll stick with you like a melted Blow Pop. While the mid-tempo stuff kinda sucks (“Dead Serious,” “Back with You”), zippier tracks like “Messing with My Head” and “Can’t Get a Read on You” are irresistible. As a whole, though, it’s too much. Power pop is always sugary. That’s part of the fun. But this is like pouring syrup on your Lucky Charms.

Silversun Pickups - Swoon
Let’s get it out of the way now: Smashing Pumpkins. It’s next to impossible to listen to Silversun Pickups without thinking of the Pumpkins. There’s the wall of guitars, the early-grunge loud-quiet-loud dynamic, and singer/guitarist Brian Aubert’s voice even sounds like Billy Corgan’s at times. All that has made this LA band pretty polarizing, and putting out another album in the same vein doesn’t do anything to help that. The Pickups do go overboard on the aping, and at times Swoon feels too ponderous. But I still give these guys (and girl) the benefit of the doubt. I love the giant sound of multi-tracked guitar fuzz. I like the addition of strings. Most importantly, I like the accessible yet engrossing songs.

Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band - Outer South
Since ditching the Bright Eyes moniker, Conor Oberst sounds like a man all loosened up. Gone is the tortured, quivering boy hunched over his acoustic guitar. The cover of last year’s eponymous record showed Oberst sleeping in a hammock, and the music had a likewise peaceful, easy feeling. While I miss some of Oberst’s raw, youthful indignation, the maturation has served him pretty well so far. But he’s feeling a bit too generous on Outer South. Six of the 16 tracks are written and sung by his bandmates, with whom he has obviously jelled. That’s nice and all, but those are by far the weakest songs, especially the cringe-worthy “Air Mattress.” It’s a shame, because if you take those way, there’s close to an album’s worth of good material.

The Receiver - Length of Arms

2009-05-07T09:33:00.003-04:00

When it comes to their music, Casey and Jesse Cooper don’t do anything halfway. The brothers who make up local band the Receiver are perfectionists, especially Casey, the apparent vision-caster who handles vocals, bass, keyboards, synth, piano, programming and all the lyrics while Jesse mans the drum kit.

With Length of Arms, the two have mastered the art of making a richly rewarding, sonically crisp studio album. Like the Receiver’s 2006 release, Decades, this new record is meant to be heard from front to back, with songs that ebb and flow into others, yet stand on their own just fine. The Coopers do one thing, and they do it quite well. If it’s not broke...

There are some subtle differences, though. Length of Arms is more densely layered with keys and synth, creating a thick, liquid sound to back up Casey’s mournful, milky voice. It’s like an electronic, alien orchestra. And just as before, having Jesse’s live drums instead of loops is crucial, grounding everything back to earth with something organic. That rich combination of sounds is maintained throughout the entire record, without a hiccup. It’s a fully realized vision. (Producer/engineer Mike Landolt no doubt had much to do with this, as well.)

Radiohead is an obvious touchstone for arty rock such as this—complex melodies presented thoughtfully, gracefully and with a fluidity that’s rarely off-putting or inaccessible. In fact, there are slightly more pop leanings on Length of Arms (see “Intervals” and “Amazing Thing”) than on the previous effort, along with more open space to allow the record to breathe; the piano intro to “Hide” is a particularly nice, airy respite.

Casey’s vaguely confessional lyrics are more about crafting a mood, stretching out a phrase like well-chewed gum. It’s nothing for a monosyllabic word to contain three or four notes. “Strength in Numbers” yearns for clarity (“I try to look past mirrors, shifting weight and dreaming in hope to view what blind men see”) while the confessional album-closer “Amazing Thing” seeks redemption (“Bearing my slate to wash it clean”). The first single, “Visitor,” seems to deal mostly with materialistic excess and consumption, echoed by the kleptomaniacal video, which is (unsurprisingly) one of the best-looking, best-produced music videos that’s ever come out of Columbus.

The Receiver’s songs worm their way a little farther into the wrinkles of your brain with each listen, and while they’re undoubtedly crafted so that layers reveal more layers over time, a few of these ambitious songs could stand to be reined in from five minutes to four. That said, no one could justly accuse the Cooper brothers of lazy composition. It’s rare to hear an album this artfully arranged.

The Receiver’s CD-release show will be held this Friday at Skully’s, 1151 N. High St. Also scheduled are Hotel Eden and a DJ set by Kelly Warner.

(Also at The Other Paper.)

Pains of Being Pure at Heart w/ Zaza, Tin Armor - The Summit

2009-05-07T09:26:00.003-04:00

On the stage of the Summit Friday night, all the non-drumming members of The Pains of Being Pure at Heart stood at the edge of the stage, leaning over with their instruments, looking as if they were ready to jump into the crowd. If they weren’t all so mild-mannered.

That combination of rock ’n’ roll ebullience and reserved timidity has served the Brooklyn band well. There are the big, fuzzy guitars that make comparisons to shoegaze forebear My Bloody Valentine too easy, but then there are the twee melodies led by singer Kip Berman’s unaffected vocals, which bring to mind the indie pop of Belle & Sebastian.

There are other bands we could start adding to the recommended-if-you-like list (some people swear all they hear is the Smiths), and each name on the list would simply magnify that sense of nostalgia you get when listening to the Pains of Being Pure at Heart’s self-titled debut.

But the reason this band has garnered so much hype and press this year—well beyond the realm of fawning bloggers—is that: a.) Nostalgia is fun when it’s done in a way that avoids mimicry, and b.) Pains combine noise and pop better and more accessibly, in my opinion, than other bands who have recently attempted to revive the merging of those two seemingly disparate qualities. (I’m looking in your direction, Vivian Girls.)

There’s not too much that can be said about the Pains of Being Pure at Heart on record that can’t be said about the band live. If the mix is good enough, which it was at the Summit after a couple of songs, it’s pretty much like hearing the album. Berman sang his parts with a blank, doe-eyed stare to complement his easy, unassuming voice, and the rest of the musicians played their parts well—all with a kind of dorky-but-endearing vibe. It wasn’t mind-blowing, but it was a good representation of the band and made for a fun set.

On the other hand, Zaza, which was also on the bill, greatly disappointed. I had downloaded the band’s free EP from its website and liked what I heard—ethereal vocals, droney grooves and cool atmospherics. But live, the Brooklyn trio seemed to take itself way too seriously. It was pretty boring. To make things worse, the band insisted on using two high-beam lights as its only means of lighting, and one of those lights bounced off the Summit’s mirrored wall into the crowd, blinding a good portion of the audience. Donewaiting Duffy eventually got all MacGyver on the situation and blocked the reflection with some boxes, but even without Zaza’s stage props burning my retina, it was still boring.

Local opener Tin Armor has had some good slots recently, opening for Matt & Kim at Skully’s a few weeks ago. The band has earned those slots, too, because each time I see these guys, I like them more. There’s some punk fervor in there, plenty of pop sensibility and two equally strong singer/songwriter/guitarists to boot. Fans of Ted Leo, take note, and keep your eye on these young locals.

Colin Gawel (Watershed) solo CD release

2009-05-06T09:31:00.002-04:00

Colin Gawel, better known as one of the principal singers and songwriters of veteran local rock band Watershed, has more than an album full of solo material, but he’s forgoing the traditional record-release model for his debut. Instead, Gawel’s releasing a CD single on producer Mike Landolt’s Curry House Music label every six months or so, beginning with Chemotherapy this Friday at the Rumba Cafe. The show will feature his backing band, the Lonely Bones. Admission includes a CD. Music at 9:30 pm.

Judging by the rootsy title track, along with two other originals, Gawel still knows his way around a hook. “The Words We Say” is probably my favorite. Super catchy. Here's the video, courtesy of the Palestra.

New Tim Easton

2009-05-05T16:30:00.002-04:00

I somehow missed that Tim Easton came out with a new record last week (why no emusic?). It's called Porcupine, and Blurt (a new digital and quarterly print mag from the guys behind Harp) has the new video for the track "7th Wheel." I can't figure out how to embed it, but here's the link.

Neko Case, Crooked Fingers - Newport Music Hall (last Thursday)

2009-04-30T11:38:00.004-04:00

Singers with alt-country panache are a dime a dozen these days. Much of it is pretty, pleasant, safe and, to be honest, quite average. And I say that as someone who’s drawn to that stuff more than most.

On the surface, Neko Case doesn’t seem to have much that sets her apart from all the others in this loosely defined genre. She sings with vague country overtones that convey deference to the rich history of the American South, yet it’s subtle enough that an adjective like “twangy” would be jarringly inappropriate. Plus, her band incorporates lap-steel guitar, and Case herself often plays a four-string tenor guitar, an instrument long associated with country music (along with jazz and, later, folk).

And yet a Neko Case song is unmistakable, often executed with a brilliance that has rightly expanded her fan base far beyond the NPR-and-latte set. It all starts with her voice, which was in full force at the Newport last Thursday. One of my fellow reviewers has stated his disdain for Neko’s singing. To each his own, because I found Case’s bold, open-throated vocals a thing of beauty live, just as it is on record.

The Newport’s muddy sound system and generally talkative crowds don’t make for an ideal atmosphere in which to soak in all that good stuff, but it didn’t ruin the experience by any means. It did, however, make it difficult to decipher some of the words, which is a shame because her imagistic lyrics often get overlooked amid all the gushing over her voice.

“I Wish I Was the Moon,” a fan favorite from 2002’s Blacklisted, showed her sweet balladeer side, with the lonesome refrain “I’m so tired, I wish I was the moon tonight.” At the end of the set, “Dirty Knife” revealed a more disturbing side (“He laid down on the floor and he slept like iron/While the dirty knife worked deep into his spine/The blood runs crazy”). Both fit Case like a glove, effortlessly transitioning from pining to haunting.

The female backup vocalist filled out the sound nicely, though she was way too talkative between songs. Someone needs to remind her she’s a backup singer.

About halfway through the set, I got a little impatient for more Fox Confessor Brings the Flood tunes, but overall there was a pretty good mix of songs both new (“Middle Cyclone,” “People Got a Lotta Nerve”) and old (“Deep Red Bells”).

It’s rare to read anything about Case without mention of her long, red hair, and most of the press photos have only served to further her image as a sex symbol. But in concert Case came off like the farm girl that she is (she’s an animal lover with 100 acres in Vermont), devoid of anything diva. She even self-deprecatingly displayed her oddly shaped navel to the crowd, explaining that someone told her it looked like a dolphin.

Case excels outside the alt-country ghetto, too, adding her pipes to the New Pornographers, as well as guesting on a recent song by Crooked Fingers, who opened the show. Bandleader Eric Bachmann, who helmed influential mid-’90s indie darlings Archers of Loaf, suffered from a worse sound mix, but nevertheless played a good, short set that left me craving a full Crooked Fingers show.

While it’s doubtful that Archers of Loaf would have shared the stage with Case, Bachmann has become more entranced with folk structures and Springsteen since starting Crooked Fingers. (“Sleep All Summer” was a good example of the former, “You Can Never Leave” of the latter.) I missed the string and horn arrangements that a three-piece with keys and a half-kit couldn’t offer, especially on “Phony Revolutions,” but the songs still held up.

One thing, though. If you decide to play a song that, on record, is a duet with Neko Case, why wouldn’t you work it out so that she could come out and sing it live? What a missed opportunity.

(Also at The Other Paper)

My Black Keys Experience

2009-04-29T10:07:00.003-04:00

Every so often Skully’s and Jack Daniel’s team up to host a free show with a band that would usually play a venue larger than Skully’s. Past shows brought in Spoon, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and The Walkmen, but Monday’s show with the Black Keys was a whole other tier. The excitement for this show was more than I’ve seen for any concert in a long time, and the fans came out in droves. Skully himself called it the most popular show he’s ever done.

Outside the music-diner before the show, the line snaked its way past the parking lot, supposedly stretching all the way to 5th Avenue earlier in the day. Some people gave up (“Dude, let’s just go get drunk at Surly Girl”), but there was still a line 10 minutes before the show ended. I was a doofus and didn’t show up till 9:35, and at point my name on a seemingly nonexistent list was not getting me past the red velvet ropes--and I mean that literally. There were actually velvet ropes.

Thanks to the generosity of one Wes Flexner (who gets on a list like that with a +3??), the flustered, bewildered, overwhelmed JD reps eventually parted the ropes, the free-drink tickets were administered and I eventually settled between the front bard and the bathrooms. There wasn’t much hope of getting any closer. The place was shoulder-to-shoulder all the way back, and every five feet closer to the stage was five degrees hotter.

Skully’s had been magically transformed into a Jack Daniel’s advertisement, with countless bottles of JD lining the bar and big posters that occasionally advised you to “add responsibility to the mix.” The win-tickets-only show brought all kinds: middle-aged men wearing short-sleeve, unbuttoned button-downs; ironic mustache types; the scenester glitterati; a roid-raging Keys fan who was ejected from the premises; and that dude who played the eccentric British boyfriend in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, or at least a look-alike who seemed to be very proud of his eyeliner.

Still, the quintessential person at this show was probably the college-age dude in a Black Keys T-shirt leading his drunk girlfriend out by the hand. Ah yes, the girlfriends. Many of these tag-along significant others could be seen exiting throughout the night, fed up with the heat, the close quarters, or just the fact that the Black Keys really do sound like a fuzzed-out, blues-rock duo. “They’re just not as good as I thought they’d be,” one woman said. This was after I redirected her from entering the men’s bathroom. She thought she was exiting the building.

I pretty much listened to the show more than I did watch it, although if I stood on my toes I could see the duo’s heads from time to time. It was still plenty loud, though. The first half of the set was mostly older stuff. “10 am Automatic” was a crowd pleaser. The second half incorporated more new stuff, which I thought sounded best: “Psychotic Girl,” “Strange Times,” “I Got Mine,” “Same Old Thing.” It was raucous and messy, all in a good, fun way.

The big question on my mind all night was: Why do people (myself included) like the Black Keys so much?

On the way home from the show, I got McDonald’s French fries, because no matter who you are or where you grew up or what social strata you belong to or see yourself in or if you’re urban or suburban or you grew up in a town of dirt and tumbleweeds, you probably crave McDonald’s French fries on occasion. It may be comfort food or a guilty pleasure, or maybe you even eat them ironically. No matter. The point is, just about everyone likes them. They’re the great societal equalizer.

And maybe the Black Keys are like McDonald’s French fries. People from all walks of life and musical inclinations love the Black Keys. At their base, the Black Keys play blues-rock, and ever since Jimmy Page and Robert Plant appropriated the blues and funneled it into young white people, blues-rock has become the base for subsequent subgenres of rock too many to count. And that’s a foundation with endless appeal if it’s done well. Classic rockers like it because it’s so bluesy. College rockers like it because it rocks so hard. Kids like it because the guitar is so loud and distorted, which = awesome. Indie rockers like it because it’s so simple. The list goes on. The Black Keys can be appropriated into whatever rock ghetto you’re drawn to.

The majority of the fans seemed to end the night pretty satisfied. I regretted not showing up earlier to watch the show from somewhere other than the bathroom, but still, mostly satisfied. See? Just like fries. Satisfied, with a twinge of regret.

Local releases: Ghost Shirt, Eric Nassau, Pocketful of Sunshine

2009-04-23T10:39:00.002-04:00

Ghost Shirt EP
Ghost Shirt has been around only since September, but the band has already caused quite a stir, playing shows as much as humanly possible (especially at the Treehouse) and handing out a 10-song demo that felt like much more than a demo.

Led by the golden-voiced Branden Barnett (formerly of the Shatters), Ghost Shirt uses killer hooks, guy-girl harmonies, beautiful string arrangements and some good ol’ distorted guitar to craft songs that veer from chamber-pop to power pop. And the band’s captivating stage show brings to mind other local acts like Two Cow Garage (a band Ghost Shirt recently toured with) and Miranda Sound (R.I.P.).

Their new EP, which serves as the preview of an upcoming full-length, mostly captures all that good stuff. I say “mostly” because in trading in demo quality for a more professionally mixed, crisp recording, a couple of the songs lose some of the raw vigor that the demo captured in their more spontaneous state. At times, the EP feels almost too slick. I also look forward to hearing what the band does with Barnett’s gentler, acoustic tunes.

But those are minor, contextual quibbles. “Steam Engine” still feels plenty propulsive, Sam Kim’s violin melodies sparkle (especially on the “Sick with Love” outro), and the rhythm section does everything a rhythm section should. Be warned: If you pick up this EP, you’ll have no choice but to get the full album when it comes out.

Eric Nassau - What's Left of Empty Space
Eric Nassau is a quintessential troubadour, playing pubs, coffee shops and folk festivals across the country armed with his van and an acoustic guitar. In fact, he’ll be on the road pretty much nonstop before returning to Columbus for Comfest at the end of June.

But if Steve Earle is the “hardcore troubadour,” Nassau is decidedly soft. On his latest, What’s Left of Empty Space, you’ll hear lots of traditional folk with some contemporary singer/songwriter flair and country fare thrown in. His candid, conversational lyrics are endearing and instantly accessible but often lack depth and anything resembling grit (from “Sugar-coated Sugar”: “When I was a child, they said I was hyper/Till they pinned me down, found sugar in my diaper”). Nassau sings it all with full-bodied, yet nondescript, vocals. This is acoustic music as smooth and breezy as it gets.

He enlisted plenty of help on Empty Space, though, and those contributions allow some of these songs (mostly in the first half) to become more than just pleasant background music. Megan Palmer’s violin and vocals fill out “Big Water,” which clips along at a good pace and features one of Nassau’s best choruses. Palmer likewise bolsters “Frozen,” featuring mournful, nontraditional accompaniments that give the song a welcome eeriness. I’m also partial to Keenan Wade’s mandolin additions, which are sprinkled throughout, as well as the rockier, minor-key guitar riffs on “A Conversation.”

Turns out truly empty space doesn’t suit Nassau best. The more musicians the merrier, I say.

Pocketful of Sunshine - Target Audience of One
Drummer Paul Abbott (Woosley Band) dubbed his recent recording Target Audience of One to emphasize that all the songs center on the heartache caused by one woman in particular. But what a shame it would be if this spurned lover were the only recipient of these well-crafted songs, boasting a list of contributors that reads like a Rolodex of Columbus songwriting greats, past and present: Tim Easton, Micah Schnabel (Two Cow Garage), Megan Palmer, Lizard McGee (Earwig), Sean Beal (Big Back Forty) and Chris Burney (formerly of the Sun).

Under the moniker Pocketful of Sunshine, Abbott wrangled each of these musicians into his home studio to collaborate on a track, and the resulting stacked-with-talent album delivers with only a couple of slight missteps. Personal favorites include Schnabel’s cig-fueled, acoustic-driven “Ultimate Mixtape” and Jesse Henry’s alt-country gem “Get With You,” lovingly steeped in lap-steel. And McGee’s “My Favorite Star” could be the lead single on a new Earwig album; it’s one of the catchiest tracks I’ve heard all year. Not surprisingly, the record also boasts really good drum sounds—a detail that often gets lost in local bands’ mixes.

The gimmicky “Slowicide,” featuring Zuck’s Turkey Farm, isn’t really my bag. Neither is the final track, “Pretty Birdy (the Ballad of Shadow Cat).” But I don’t think I’d skip any other song, which is pretty amazing given the stylistic breadth and sheer number of musicians involved with the project--a testament to Abbott’s well-trained ear.

Here’s to shattered relationships!

(Also at The Other Paper)

Record Store Day

2009-04-17T11:01:00.000-04:00

If you haven't heard, Record Store Day is tomorrow. It's a great day to go out and support your local record stores, because that's a good thing to do, but also because there are tons of limited-edition Record Store Day releases coming out. Pitchfork compiled an extensive list of them here, and each store has its own little deals, too. Here's what's going on in Columbus. (Feel free to add corrections or anything I missed in the comments...)

Used Kids will have some of those limited-editions and lots of live music. Here are the bands, in order from 1-8 pm: dick mackey, dottie and clyde, black phantom thousands, times new viking, ap (alleyes path), birds of hair, tv eye, brian harnetty, super desserts.

Lost Weekend Records:
All used LPs will be 33% off, all used 45s will be 45% off, all 78s will be 78 cents each and all new LPs & CDs will be 10% off (excluding limited edition Record Store Day releases). Everything else in the store (used Cds, used dvds, T-shirts, books, comics, etc.) will be 20% off.

Owner Kyle Siegrist also says: "Lost Weekend will also have cool record store day give-away items while supplies last, including such items as CD and LP samplers some 7" records (I know one is a Kings of Leon single), Beastie Boys turntable mats, Beatles numbered lithographs, and other stuff, plus we will be bringing out the free Herb Albert records. We will have several of the limited edition Record Store Day releases (the only things not on sale that day):

Some of these we only have 1 or 2 copies of and others we will have more including a live Pavement Lp from 1988, 7" singles from, The Smiths, Slayer, Akron Familiy, MC5, Stooges, Bob Dylan, Tom Waits, Bad Religion, Bruce Springsteen, Sonic Youth w/ Jay Retard and a cool split with Flaming Lips and The Black Keys. Plus the full latest full length album from Jorma Kaukonen "River Of Time" on Red House Records only 1,000 pressed and they were pressed in town at Mus-I-Col. There is also a double 10" record from My Morning Jacket and a 10" record from Ben Harper also a live Derek Trucks cd. There may be some others..."

-- I don't have any info on Magnolia Thunderpussy, but they had all sorts of free stuff last year if you purchased something, so I'm sure they will this year, too. Last year I got free 7" vinyl by MGMT, Wye Oak and some others.

-- Evil Empire Records (located inside Kafe Kerouac and What the Rock?!): "Both of the Columbus Store locations for Evil Empire Records will be giving away some of my favorite singles, no purchase necessary. (One per customer. While supplies last.)"

-- Ace in the Hole's website says it will have live music and limited-edition Record Store Day releases.

-- The new Elizabeth's Records: "We won't have the special goodies on national offer, but we will give a free 45 single to the first 25 paying customers, and a 10 % discount to any purchase over five dollars."

-- Singing Dog is apparently participating, too, but no specific info.

Bill Callahan at Used Kids

2009-04-14T11:22:00.004-04:00

This was fun, nonexistent sight lines and all. Here's a video (courtesy of Scott Johnson) of Callahan performing "Rococo Zephyr" off Sometimes I Wish We Were an Eagle, out today.

Dr. Dog, Golden Boots, The Lost Revival - The Basement

2009-04-09T09:37:00.005-04:00

The original plan Monday night was to check out the Cave Singers and Golden Boots, both slated to open for Dr. Dog at the Basement, then skip the headliner and shoot up north to see San Diego buzz band Crocodiles take the stage at Cafe Bourbon Street. It’s not that I dislike Dr. Dog. In fact, I quite enjoyed the Philadelphia band’s 2008 release, Fate. But I saw them at CD101 Summerfest last year and they didn’t blow me away. Plus, the strength of Crocodiles’ upcoming Fat Possum debut, Summer of Hate, coupled with rumors of stellar SXSW performances, had me jazzed for that show.

But Crocodiles canceled. Then the Cave Singers canceled. And yet, it turned out to be a pretty good night.

I walked into the Basement as a band I assumed to be Golden Boots was playing, but was pleasantly surprised when I saw eight people crammed onto the stage and realized it was the Lost Revival. The local band apparently was asked to fill in for the Cave Singers just a couple of hours earlier. I’d have enjoyed the Lost Revival even if I hadn’t known that the band a.) had to throw everything together in a matter of hours, and b.) played almost all brand-new songs. Singer/songwriter Kevin Collins was just born to be a front man. His throaty singing, interspersed with a strong falsetto, gives the folk-inspired, synth-laced epics a primal texture that’s missing from so many bands that use Americana as their undercarriage. And the man has charisma to spare.

My only complaint with the short set was that the female background singer was consistently flat and too loud, which at times detracted from Collins. But mostly it was good, chaotic fun. It’s encouraging that after the Lost Revival’s strong debut, Homemade Confetti, the new songs are more focused, with even stronger hooks (see “Cotton and Lace” and “Mayqueen”), yet still grand and gutsy. The addition of saxophone was cool, too.

Next up was Dr. Dog labelmates Golden Boots, a band I’m more impressed with on record. The group incorporates southwestern sounds from its hometown of Tuscon, Arizona, but on the recent Winter of Our Discotheque, there’s more experimental, fuzzy psychedelia. At the Basement, the band played the songs pretty straight, with little deconstruction or even slightly fractured pieces. Neither of the two singers drew me in, and having two drummers seemed completely superfluous. I’d still recommend picking up Winter of Our Discotheque, but skip the live experience.

Dr. Dog, on the other hand, was in its element, feeding off the energy of the sold-out crowd. At Summerfest last year, the band seemed a little lost on the huge LC Pavilion stage, but the Basement’s modest digs proved to be more comfy. It was the difference between a sprawling storm system dropping scattered thunderstorms here and there and a funnel cloud concentrating its delivery with consistent ferocity.

(I’ve gotta say again, though, that though the Basement seems like a good venue for bands, it’s a horrible venue for every concertgoer except the 50 to 75 people up front, and a sold-out show only re-emphasized that. There’s a reason stages are usually above the audience, not below. No one should pay for a show and end up having to watch it on a lousy TV behind the bar. So it’s a good thing the band used the venue to its advantage, because there’s virtually no advantage for the fans.)

Dr. Dog has had more time to tour behind the the new material, and it showed. I still enjoy bassist Toby Leaman’s singing best, especially in a live setting. Songs like “The Ark” and “The Beach” are groovin’ head-nodders, due much in part to their bass lines, and Leaman’s sandpaper howling was the fuel for the fire. The band’s other singing/songwriting half, Scott McMicken, was on, too, especially during “The Old Days” and encore closer “Ain’t It Strange.” All the vocal harmonies were dead-on, too.

So despite my disappointment at the evening’s outset, the band reclaimed my affections. Dr. Dog had its day.

(Also at The Other Paper)

Crocodiles (update)

2009-04-04T14:20:00.004-04:00

Crocodiles is playing Cafe Bourbon Street Monday night, and after listening to the band's debut, Summer of Hate, I'm kinda giddy about this show. Pains of Being Pure at Heart is cool and all, but... this is the record people should (and will) be talking about. Hope they can bring it live, too. High expectations.

Show canceled.

The Antlers - Cafe Bourbon St., 3-26

2009-04-01T10:06:00.001-04:00

Depending on their subject matter, concept albums have the potential to alienate listeners. Even the term “concept album” sounds a bit pretentious. But the truly great ones transcend story-line, using the thematic material to communicate ideas, questions, truths, emotions--or all of the above--common to the human experience. In other words, you don’t need to be a deaf, dumb and blind pinball champion to appreciate the Who’s Tommy.

The Antlers’ new album, Hospice, uses a fractured relationship between a hospice worker and a young, terminally ill girl (Sylvia) to muse about mortality and all its repercussions--loss, loneliness, anger, empathy, guilt and the like. Singer/songwriter Peter Silberman, whose lyrical and compositional maturity belie his age (23), switches vantage points throughout the album, allowing glimpses into each character’s inner workings.

Complicating matters--in a good way, it turns out--is the patient’s condition. She apparently has cancer, but it’s her mental illness and the resulting nightmares and visions that make the relationship so antagonistic and heartbreaking. In the liner notes, Silberman explains (in character of the hospice worker, it seems) that “something makes her sting, and something makes her want to kill. It made her crawl under that house, and stick her head under the stove.”

The Antlers punctuate the interactions with huge swells of sound that wouldn’t be out of place on a Sigur Ros record, and subdued sections anchored by a gingerly tapped piano or lightly strummed acoustic guitar along with shimmery, atmospheric synth textures (see “Kettering”). It’s in those quiet portions that Silberman employs his greatest attribute--a beautiful, alabaster falsetto that’s more hushed than Jeff Buckley but less wispy than Antony and the Johnsons.

Ah yes, but this is supposed to be a live review, right? The Antlers did, in fact, play Cafe Bourbon Street last Thursday as a three-piece, though few were there to see it. (Our Cat Philip, however, did not open the show, to my disappointment. Bourbon Street’s website is notoriously inaccurate. Get on the ball, Bobo!) The mostly empty bar lent the show a vibe that was more flat than intimate, and the band hasn’t completely figured out how to replicate Hospice live yet. The climaxes were even more powerful when heard at arm’s length, but the subtleties weren’t quite as subtle. And I missed the acoustic.

The hardest thing, Silberman sings on “Wake,” is “letting people in.” He wisely jumped that hurdle with the Antlers, beginning Hospice as a solo project and gradually adding contributions from others until the Antlers became a real band, not just a nom de plume. It’s a potent combination on record, but the band needs some more road-testing to match that chemistry onstage.

Still, despite those shortcomings and an incredibly short set, I’m glad I ventured out. I particularly enjoyed “Shiva,” as well as the sheer epic-ness of “Atrophy,” with its desperate coda: “Someone, oh anyone, tell me how to stop this. She’s screaming, expiring, and I’m her only witness.” Haunting, but really pretty.

So yes, the Antlers are worth seeing live, but more importantly, go pick up or download Hospice. And when you do, listen from beginning to end. It’s a concept album that demands and rewards your attention.

Photos from the show
mp3: The Antlers - Two
mp3: The Antlers - Bear
The Antlers WOXY Session

Bill Callahan (Smog) at Used Kids, fer realz

2009-03-30T22:54:00.003-04:00

Some news from Jerry DeCicca (Black Swans, Used Kids)--Bill Callahan of Smog fame will be at Used Kids Records on April 13, free. JD says:

"Instead of a midnight sale for the new Bill Callahan (formerly SMOG) album "Sometimes I Wish We Were an Eagle" to be released on Tuesday April 14th, we'll be having a 7pm sale featuring an in-store performance with Bill Callahan. Yes, a Bill Callahan release party featuring Bill Callahan."

Wow.

Expletives

2009-03-30T15:27:00.003-04:00

This Washington Post Q&A with Matt Whitehurst of Psychedelic Horseshit sounds a whole lot like what I transcribed after interviewing Whitehurst over whiskey at Dick's Den for a Spin story I wrote about "shitgaze" last year. Except back then Wavves wasn't around, so he was ranting about how much Yeasayer and Deerhunter sucked. But then he later admitted that Bradford Cox was actually a really nice guy and let the band crash on his couch or something. He wanted the title of the article to be "Drugs, Psychedelic Horseshit and Yeasayer Sucks."

Ah, Whitehurst. Confounding, unceasingly garrulous and almost always entertaining.

(ht: Donewaiting)

2009

2009-03-30T13:02:00.003-04:00

That's the Antlers, a Brooklyn band that played Cafe Bourbon St. last Thursday. The Antlers' newest album, Hospice, is one of a handful of albums I've been pretty impressed by so far this year. The super-short live set didn't quite live up to the record (review coming soon), but I still found a lot to enjoy, and I'd be surprised if the other (very few) barflies in attendance didn't, as well.

Other than Hospice, here's a quick rundown of some other stuff I've been enjoying in 2009, in no particular order. (Some of these came out last year, just never got around to them; so much for listening to less music this year...)

Kurt Vile - God is Saying This to You...
U2 - No Line on the Horizon
The Lost Revival - To Hell With Them All
Bonnie "Prince" Billy - Beware
Justin Townes Earle - Midnight at the Movies
Vetiver - Tight Knit
Elvis Perkins in Dearland - Elvis Perkins in Dearland
Neko Case - Middle Cyclone
Frontier Ruckus - The Orion Songbook
M. Ward - Hold Time
Southeast Engine - From the Forest to the Sea
RTFO Bandwagon - Dums Will Survive
Fol Chen - Part I: John Shade, Your Fortune's Made
Andrew Bird - Noble Beast
Bon Iver - Blood Bank
Gemma Hayes - Hollow of Morning
Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavilion

Bonnie "Prince" Billy - Beware

2009-03-19T14:19:00.003-04:00

Will Oldham is an unpredictable, eccentric fellow, but it’s probably safe to say that after 10 years and 12 albums (including live records), the Bonnie “Prince” Billy moniker is his primary means of musical output. Previous pseudonyms--all variations on the word “Palace”--haven’t surfaced since 2004’s Bonnie “Prince” Billy Sings Greatest Palace Music.

As BPB, Oldham has prolifically traversed Americana terrain, dabbling in Nashville country, Southern gothic, Gram Parsons country-rock and hauntingly spare folk. His voice has matured along the way, but still retains a laconic, warbled quality.

Oldham said in a New Yorker profile a few months back that Beware (out now) would be his “big” album, meaning he would promote it with singles, photo shoots, etc. “I am Goodbye” is the first single, and it’s a good primer for the rest of the album--a downright zippy tune that revels in the concept of goodbyes using swirly guitar and mandolin.

It’s the next logical step after last year’s In the Light, a strong album I overlooked until this year. It’s a sunny record, full of arrangements that could be considered elaborate compared with the quiet starkness earlier albums like Ease Down the Road and Master and Everyone. Beware is even more elaborate, working in a full roster of musicians contributing all sorts of bits and pieces to the whole. In the final track, “Afraid Ain’t Me,” you’ll hear a flute solo, hand claps, horns and bongos, to name a few.

It’s too big for Oldham, but only slightly so. While the arrangements can sometimes serve as roadblocks (the vocal echo, strings and choir on “Heart’s Arms”), often they enhance (the marimba and pedal steel on “You Can’t Hurt Me Now”).

The more barren “There is Something I Have to Say” hearkens to those earlier albums, serving as a nice rest before ramping up again. And there’s still Oldham’s words that’ll creep you out or make you laugh. Or both: “I want to be your only friend. Is that scary?”

He can also be ominous and a little confounding, as on “Death Final”: “In a pit of bodies I am loved by all/ By ham hock and by handkerchief, by damsel and by doll/ An angel warns us with its unfinal call/ It was not death final, it was only fall.”

Referencing a ham hock in a song about death is unexpected and a bit jarring, but keeping us guessing is something Oldham has down to a science.

(Also at The Other Paper)

Lohio, Karate Coyote, The Randys - Rumba

2009-03-19T14:13:00.002-04:00

In the middle of Lohio’s set at the Rumba Café on Friday night, lead singer Greg Dutton led the band through a song called “You’ve Got a Lot of Nerve,” during which he repeated this sentiment several times: “I can tell you’ve got some things to learn.” Each time I heard it, I couldn’t help thinking of that adage about the pot and the kettle.

Lohio has much to learn. The Pittsburgh fivesome is pleasant enough on record, merging the squeaky-clean indie pop of bands like Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin with intermittent doses of introspective folk-pop. But onstage it was all quite bland—not awful, by any means, and certainly not devoid of talent. There just wasn’t anything the least bit distinctive in the performance to set the group apart from countless other bands charting a similar course. Lohio is so safe that it’s entirely unremarkable.

The band was at its worst during the slower, more folk-leaning songs, which highlighted the weaknesses in Dutton’s voice as he sang in a low, unconfident register. The band was at its best during more upbeat songs like “Modern Days,” adding some much-needed energy to the performance. But regardless of range or tempo, Dutton was pretty much devoid of charisma, which enervated even some of the band’s bounciest songs.

A bad mix could have been part of the problem here. Dutton’s voice was always soft, and the bassist’s harmonies (I assume?) were inaudible. But here’s the bottom line: There are some bands that can convincingly and engagingly pull off a song with a chorus that consists only of “Hangin’ out with you.” This was not one of those bands.

Despite having shared the stage with bands like the Avett Brothers and American Music Club, Lohio looked and sounded bush-league. And it seemed even more bush-league following the Rumba’s early-show act, the Randys, which kept a shoulder-to-shoulder happy-hour crowd dancing and grinning.

The Randys are actually the perfect happy-hour band, despite the fact that you might not recognize a hefty chunk of the songs they cover from the ’40s, ’50s and ’60s. No matter. The band has a way of resurrecting genres you may have mentally discarded (e.g. polka). On Friday, the band even strung together five or six Hawaiian tunes with spot-on harmonies, ukulele and lap steel guitar. Quite impressive.

The Randys manage to do what so many cover bands (a misleading label) can’t: that is, conveying authenticity for whatever period they tackle while also allowing the songs to be influenced and strengthened by their own musical histories and attributes.

Karate Coyote closed down the night on some high and low notes. With only one EP out (Move E.P.), the young band made the odd decision to start the show with old and new songs that aren’t on it, none of which I was particularly fond of.

Sound problems didn’t help here, either. The second guitarist was lost in the mix, and despite having the strongest pipes of the indie-pop collective, female vocalist Sam Corlett was barely audible. Even so, I much preferred the songs she led to guitarist Ryan Horn’s tunes.

I was happier once “Move Yourself,” the strongest EP track, came along. “So Far So Good,” a song CD101 has been pimping, sounded pretty good, too, as did “Incogneat-o.” But the band has some more work to do before its stage show does justice to its recorded material.

(Also at The Other Paper)

The Receiver - "Visitor" video

2009-03-13T09:46:00.003-04:00

Columbus band The Receiver made a video for a new song called "Visitor" off their upcoming sophomore album, Length of Arms, due out this spring (CD release show 5/8 at Skully's). Production-wise, it's probably the best music video from a Columbus band I've seen, and a good song to boot. Bandmate brothers Jesse and Casey Cooper have submitted it to an Ohio Film competition, so if you agree with my positive assessment, be sure to give it some YouTube ratings love. I'd say it very much deserves to be a finalist.

Elvis Perkins in Dearland

2009-03-12T11:37:00.006-04:00

Elvis Perkins in Dearland just released its eponymous debut album, but you can think of it as a companion piece to Perkins’s 2007 solo outing, Ash Wednesday. Calling that one a solo album is a bit misleading, anyway. There were certainly some stark arrangements with just Perkins and his acoustic guitar, but more often it incorporated strings, horns, glockenspiel, vibraphone, etc.

Elvis Perkins in Dearland builds on that, as the singer/guitarist’s three touring mates help him heap more textures, more stylistic influences and more instruments on an Americana base. The songs almost never collapse under these arrangements, instead creating an ever-shifting palette for the casual vocals and poetic lyrics.

Voice-wise, Perkins has some of the idiosyncrasies of Neutral Milk Hotel’s Jeff Mangum and the timbre of Rufus Wainwright, but with more restraint than either of those singers. He has an easiness about him that brings to mind Leonard Cohen—not overly sentimental, yet not dry, with a slight vibrato around the edges. Nothing is rushed, nothing is forced.

This record, like the last, offers ruminations on grief and death—which, given his background, Perkins could be excused for writing and singing about for the rest of his life. His father was actor Anthony Perkins, who played Norman Bates in Psycho, and his mother was photographer Berry Berenson. Anthony Perkins died of AIDS-related complications in 1992, and Berenson was killed aboard American Airlines Flight 11 in the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks.

Leadoff track “Shampoo”—which begins with the chirping of cicadas and crickets, flittering woodwinds and light acoustic strums—seems to use eccentric folk singer John Jacob Niles’s “Black Is the Color of My True Love’s Hair” as a reference point, intermingling themes of love and death. “Black is the color of a strangled rainbow, black is the color of my lung/Black is the color of my true love’s arrow, black is the color of a human’s blood,” he sings. The song has some reggae flare, but it’s anchored in Elvis-land with Perkins’s harmonica.

Despite the weighty material, “Shampoo” and other tunes like “I Heard Your Voice in Dresden,” “123 Goodbye” and the horn-heavy “Doomsday” are more sprightly than much of Ash Wednesday. Perkins also takes care to ensure that his lyrics don’t become overbearing. “I don’t let doomsday bother me, do you let it bother you?” he sings, letting us know that death, while devastating, is something he’s been forced to come to grips with.

mp3: Elvis Perkins in Dearland- Shampoo

Singing Through the Hard Times: A Tribute to Utah Phillips

2009-03-12T11:30:00.002-04:00

Folk singer Bruce “Utah” Phillips identified himself as an anarchist, but that didn’t stop him from making a 1968 bid for the U.S. Senate in Utah. He lost, but he got plenty of his ideas across through his music, fed by his years as a rail rider, soldier in the Korean War and unflinching supporter and member of the Industrial Workers of the World labor union (aka “the Wobblies”).

Phillips died last year before he could hear the finished product of a compilation that was released recently, Singing Through the Hard Times: A Tribute to Utah Phillips. This 39-track, double-disc set isn’t just folk-inspired. Most of the contributors sound like folk purists—the kind of people who, when the crowd booed Bob Dylan during his electric set at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965, would have chimed right in.

Casual music fans will recognize a few big names here, such as Emmylou Harris (“Green Rolling Hills of West Virginia”), Pete Seeger (“Or Else! (One-a These Days)”) and Ani DiFranco, whose Righteous Babe Records is releasing the set. Diehard folkies will notice Tom Paxton—who won a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award last month—Jean Ritchie, Rosalie Sorrels and probably a couple of others. And then there are quite a few relatively unknown singers, strummers, banjo pickers and the like.

Emmylou could sing stock-market symbols, and I’d still enjoy it. She just has one of those consistently wonderful, engaging voices. There are some strong offerings from relative unknowns, too, such as Saul Broudy’s cowboy-country take on “Starlight on the Rails” and the hypnotic drone of “Hymn Song” captured by Emma’s Revolution.

But 39 tracks is excessive for just about any compilation, so it’s no shock that there are some not-so-strong tracks. Lisa Null’s take on “All About Preachers” sounds like an open-mike out-take, and Judy Cook’s “Kid’s Liberation” and a couple of others are a stone’s throw from the folk parodies of Christopher Guest’s A Mighty Wind. (Those interpretations are admittedly spot-on, so that’s not a scathing critique.)

Not surprisingly, what reverberates most on this compilation is Phillips’s storytelling and social-change sentiments. When the thread by which our country’s infrastructure hangs gets more frayed each week, there couldn’t be a more timely sentiment than the chorus from the album’s title track: “We are singing through the hard times, singing through the hard times, working for the good times to come.”

mp3: Magpie, Dan Schatz, Emma's Revolution & more... - Singing Through the Hard Times

Staying relevant

2009-03-06T14:02:00.000-05:00

Neko Case has a new album out, and if you liked Fox Confessor Brings the Flood, you'll like this one. Same vivid, bizarre songwriting, same terrific voice. Same electric-red hair, too, judging by the album cover and features in Paste and Spin. In fact, she graced the cover of Paste's February issue.

Before hearing the album, I was pretty excited to read about Neko, the making of Middle Cyclone, etc. But, to my disappointment, Paste decided to do a "50th Issue Lovefest"-themed issue, which I guess was also some sort of Valentine's day tie-in. This also meant the cover story on Neko Case ended up being a list of her favorite things ("17 Things I <3"). There's a reason most good, long-form feature stories rely on more than a Q&A with the artist, just like there's a reason good stories aren't made up entirely of quotes. Generally, I learn more about an artist and his/her music by reading about a writer's experiences with that artist rather than a string of quotes. Some of my favorite music journalism is such because of what a writer perceives behind and between the quotes--the way someone's face twitches, the way she gets visibly awkward when addressing a certain subject, how she holds her spoon, interactions with strangers, etc.

Which is why I enjoyed Ellen Carpenter's Spin profile of Neko far more. While it may seem counterintuitive, I don't care about Neko describing her favorite things in her own words. I want to hear a good writer describe her favorite things, how that conclusion was made and why they're her favorite things. Not to mention that what she hates is probably far more interesting.

One example. Both stories talk about how much Neko loves her grehounds. In Case's words (from Paste): "Dogs live for today. I love them for that."

In Carpenter's words (from Spin): "Neko Case's biggest fans bum-rush her at her front door. 'Hi, guys!' she singsongs as four large dogs come clattering over floorboards to fill the entrance of her Tuscon, Arizona home with sheer body-wiggling desperation. You'd think she'd been on tour for weeks, not at a local cafe for two hours."

Which is better?

All this to say, the use of gimmicks in music magazines seems to be on the rise, and Paste is certainly not the only guilty party. (This little case study could be easily reversed in a different issue.) I understand that print publications are suffering right now, which I presume is why the newest issue of Paste is the March/April edition. Guess it's back to bi-monthly. But if print publications are trying to compete with free information on the Internet, then they should be emphasizing what makes a print publication different. Not to say that this is the only struggle print publications have (horrible economy, dwindling advertising dollars, etc.), but adapting to the age of the Internet doesn't mean restyling a magazine so it's more like a webzine or a blog. Any number of music blogs have Q&As with artists every day, and they're rarely interesting.

Readers of print publications want more. They want the writing to be a cut above what they speed through on their Google Readers every day. So make it worthwhile, music mags. Adapt, don't conform. And stay away from shallow gimmicks.

Matt & Kim, Hollywood Holt, Tin Armor - Skully's

2009-03-06T13:14:00.003-05:00

From the moment Matt & Kim played their first note at Skully’s on Friday night, a guy standing in front of me gripped the railing of the stage, closed his eyes, threw his head back, smiled and moved to the beat. He didn’t stop until the final note was played.

At some indie-rock shows, a guy like this might stick out like a pair of pressed khakis. But I only noticed him because I was watching the show from the comparatively sedate side stage. From the front of the stage almost all the way back to the bar, enthused kids threw their hands up, danced, gyrated, shouted along and generally immersed themselves in the music coming from this keyboard-and-drums duo. I even saw someone skipping. While a scene like this is somewhat of a rarity at a Columbus rock show, at least at most of the venues I frequent, I get the feeling it’s standard fare for Matt & Kim--the smiliest couple in indie rock.

Though I’ll happily put on the duo’s sophomore album, Grand, when the mood strikes, I admit the couple’s youthful exuberance and Matt Johnson’s prone-to-cracking, slightly emo vocals don’t knock me out on record. But in a live setting, watching Kim Schifino pummel her floor tom with affixed perma-grin and seeing Johnson bang out the opening notes of “Daylight,” the giddiness is contagious as a runny nose.

It was odd that with a live show this good, the two screens behind the pair just rotated fairly boring images of words like “Grand” and “Matt and Kim.” The only cool image was some exploding fireworks. It didn’t detract from the vibe, but I imagine with some more time and thought put into the projections, wide-eyed fans’ heads would explode.

Heeding the “simple is better” punk philosophy, almost all of the tunes were propelled by Schifino’s simple beats. I was happy to hear all three of Grand’s opening trifecta--“Good Ol’ Fashion Nightmare,” “Cutdown” and “Daylight”--at some point in the evening. They’re the best songs the two have written. Before the last song of the night, Johnson stood up and gave a passionate, endearingly idealistic speech about supporting Obama, remembering everything in life and trying hard, followed by the only (seemingly) unironic rendition of Europe’s “The Final Countdown” I’ve ever heard.

Chicago rapper Hollywood Holt did a good job of getting the crowd all riled up, despite being relatively unknown and employing a sheepishly green deejay (“DJ Skyler”) prone to screwing up. Judging by the five to ten friends roaming the stage taking pictures and video, Holt is pretty new to this game. But he was determined to get the place moving, and his mix of old-school rhymes, crunky beats and vaguely punk influences did the job.

Like Matt & Kim, Hollywood ain’t afraid to make you smile, with lyrics about the cleanliness of his clothes and the recent purchase of a moped. For some reason, I also found his onstage sidekick hilarious (in a good way), so that helped, too. Fans of party rap, electro and the Beastie Boys should find much to like.

I forgot that I’d seen opener Tin Armor before when the band opened for Frightened Rabbit and Spinto Band, so I guess the locals didn’t leave a big impression on me. But I really liked what I heard this time. The band’s blend of punk, pop and rock just felt more put together, feeding off the energy of a full house. This time I’ll remember.

RTFO Bandwagon - Dums Will Survive

2009-02-27T14:30:00.003-05:00

Given RTFO Bandwagon’s curious blend of folk and punk, it’s not surprising to find the band on bills with a shitgaze act like Psychedelic Horseshit (with whom it shares a drummer) and eccentric folkies like the Super Desserts. But with the release of Dums Will Survive, RTFO’s newest offering on Dull Knife Records, the punks now have more ground to stand on when staking their claim on the band.

“Skipper Bunkum” is RTFO at its punkiest, with talk-sung vocals over insistent, distorted guitar and keys. And then there’s the in-the-red, album-closing extended jam on “Dumbs Will Survive,” a reprised version of the leadoff title track (a bouncy, catchy tune propelled by percussive guitars and call-and-response vocals).

Still, for the more folk-inclined, you’ll find French horn on the rambling “Like a Dan Shearer Over Troubled Water,” and you’ll find Old West-style piano (courtesy of Dane Terry) and lap steel on “Between the Ears.” Both songs are easy on the ears.

There’s beauty in all of it, though, regardless of the irrelevant genre tags. The record—seven tracks in all—has a ramshackle, homemade feel, and yet every instrument is present and accounted for, intricately pieced and layered together in analog warmth. (One of my favorite touches is Terry’s fuzzed-out, treble-heavy keyboard on “Dan Shearer” and “Public Relations Rag”; it sounds nothing like a keyboard.)

As far as this relatively lo-fi aesthetic goes, it’s probably one of the best-produced records I’ve heard.

RTFO Bandwagon’s release party is scheduled for March 27 at Skylab. Pre-orders are available at dullkniferecords.com; the first 50 orders will also receive a limited-edition cassette of “Like a Dan Shearer Over Troubled Water.”

(Also at The Other Paper)

Southeast Engine, Frontier Ruckus, The Coke Dares, The Kyle Sowashes - Treehouse

2009-02-25T11:06:00.000-05:00

With four bands on a bill, it’s more than likely one of them is going to be a dud, or at least have an off night. But the Treehouse was four for four on Friday night.

The main event was the release of Athens, Ohio’s Southeast Engine newest offering, From the Forest to the Sea. As I mentioned last week, it’s a record full of spiritual yearning and self-condemnation, and it’s also one of the best albums released so far this year. What struck me most about Southeast Engine’s indie-folk live is how well bassist Jesse Remnant’s tenor harmonies complement singer (and brother) Adam Remnant’s wonderfully crackled voice--one filled with meandering eccentricities that wouldn’t be easy to harmonize. Watching the Remnants belt out the melodies in fraternal sync was one of my favorite parts of the night.

The set was heavy with new stuff, and I liked the loose, spacious feeling the live setting lent to the songs. Foot-tapping rockers like “Black Gold” and more restrained numbers like “Law-Abiding Citizen” and “From the Roots of the Mountains to Your Holy Temple” came together superbly beneath the Treehouse lights.

Taking the stage before Southeast Engine was Michigan band Frontier Ruckus, a stylistically perfect choice to go with the Remnants and company. I only caught a few songs, but it was enough to convince me to pick up the band’s debut full-length, The Orion Songbook. I highly recommend it. After listening to it the morning after the show, I couldn’t wait to press play and start it all over again. That doesn’t happen very often.

Songwriter Matthew Millia has created a bunch of folk-inspired songs about the mythological Orion Town, and the band fleshes out his singular voice and imaginative, literate lyrics with deft acoustic guitar, singing saw, trumpet, banjo and lovely female harmonies. The songs, whether “Bethlehem” or “Adirondack Amish Holler,” convey a vivid sense of place. Really good stuff.

The second half of the night was a completely different style of show. Part II was jovial, with significantly less weighty subject matter--just lots of laughs and endless energy. The Coke Dares, from Bloomington, Ind., had one of the most original sets I’ve ever seen and were laugh-out-loud funny. Until the last song, the trio, wearing black T-shirts that said “The,” “Coke” and “Dares,” respectively, didn’t play one song longer than about a minute and 30 thirty seconds. Some were even under 30 seconds, but each one packed a punch. It wasn’t rare to have a song’s title contain the majority of the lyrics, e.g. “I’m Gonna Love You Like a Hot Teen.”

Meditate, if you will, on “Wood,” which clocked in at about 30 seconds: “If you’re gonna make it, make it good, you’re gonna wanna make it outta wooooood.” “Tour Rot” told the (brief) story of playing at Bernie’s when one of two people at the show threw up at the band’s feet. “Rocking all the Time” told of the band’s love for whiskey, pills, wine and, of course, rocking all the time. With a sound that’s aptly been described as a mix of Guided By Voices and the Ramones, you’d never know these dudes also play in Magnolia Electric Co.

The most shocking and hilarious moment of the set came as the band wrapped up its supposedly last song, and then launched into an extended version of Pink Floyd’s “Shine on You Crazy Diamond,” with lots of faux endings along the way. It also proved singer Jason Groth is a ridiculously talented guitarist. I can’t say I’d listen to these guys on record a whole lot, but I advise you not to miss an opportunity to see them live.

The Kyle Sowashes kept the energy level high, as is their custom. I think everything Sowash does translates better live, in a whirlwind of guitar, beard and thick, black-rimmed glasses. “My Resume” from last year’s Yeah Buddy! sounded great, and all the more applicable lyrically because of what people like to call “the current economic climate.” And Sowash’s everyman goofiness shone through on “Rumours”: “When I was small, I had it bad for Stevie Nicks/ I just stared at the back of Fleetwood Mac until the age of six.”

The strong set of Sowash-stamped, throwback indie rock was a fitting finish to a night of unusually good music.

mp3: Southeast Engine - Black Gold
Southeast Engine Daytrotter Session
mp3: The Coke Dares - Wood

Southeast Engine - From the Forest to the Sea

2009-02-20T13:13:00.004-05:00

Adam Remnant is a tortured soul. The singer of Athens, Ohio, band Southeast Engine revealed that on 2007’s A Wheel Within a Wheel, and he’s done it again on From the Forest to the Sea. The proof is in his tattered, tremulous voice, but it’s in his lyrics even more.

As on Wheel, Remnant vents his frustration through a spiritual lens, one that doesn’t have even a hint of a rose-colored tint. The record is chock full of Biblical allusions and allegory and probably other applicable words that begin with “a,” but the religiosity is never oppressive. It’s the fabric Remnant uses to reveal his shortcomings. He shows us a world that is broken and full of evil, and he wants everyone to know he’s the worst offender.

The album opens with three-part suite “The Forest,” which finds the anti-hero emerging from a wedding ceremony (possibly doubling as a funeral) and heading into the woods. “I said I wouldn’t do no evil, but evil’s just what I’ve done,” Remnant admits, and by part II there’s already talk of “broken vows.” Gorgeous piano eventually crescendos in part III. “Here I am now rising!” he exclaims, but the heavenly ascent is cut short when an outstretched arm from above turns him away.

The rest of the record mixes similar imagery with real-life details while the black cloud of an extramarital affair hangs menacingly over most songs, many of which bleed into the other; From the Forest to the Sea flows like a rolling landscape from beginning to end.

In “Black Gold,” Remnant can’t even talk about the pitfalls of the coal industry without relating it to a mistress--“Every time that she’s ignored she knocks louder on your door.” Noah’s great flood also shows up, churning and battering Remnant further. But he again makes it clear he’s no Christ type: “I can’t be walking on water when my shadow weighs a ton.”

Southeast Engine elicits fewer early Wilco comparisons these days. Still, amid the saloon piano, carnival organs and crunchy guitars, that malleable “Americana” signifier still seems to fit. And as with most concept albums, this record isn’t immediately accessible. It takes a few spins to let the metanarrative sink in. And while there aren’t many traditional song structures here, they’re still singable and become progressively addictive.

There’s a little sliver of light on the last song of the album, “From the Roots of the Mountains to Your Holy Temple.” As Remnant/the protagonist’s life is coming to an end at the bottom of the sea, his blood will become oil, greedy men will find him and “it’ll be up and out through the tunnel to rise into the sky.” It’s redemption in a sense, but a mucky one, because while we know that he’s headed toward the temple, Remnant never tells us if that outstretched arm brings him into the fold this time around. Spiritually, his journey isn’t over, and that bodes well for Southeast Engine musically. To steal a slogan, Remnant’s pain is our gain.

Southeast Engine’s Columbus release show is tonight at the Treehouse with the Kyle Sowashes, the Coke Dares and Frontier Ruckus.

mp3: Southeast Engine - Black Gold

(Also at The Other Paper.)

Times New Viking <3 the Velvets

2009-02-17T14:19:00.002-05:00

Just about any band that veers off rock’s beaten path owes a debt of gratitude to the Velvet Underground. The band’s Lou Reed-led, Andy Warhol-produced The Velvet Underground & Nico and pretty much each boundary-pushing album thereafter conveyed a message: Rock is something to be messed with. It can be a form of art, and, as such, experimentation is a part of the process.

Given that legacy, Columbus’s hometown breakout art-rock icon Times New Viking was the perfect pick to pay homage to the Velvets last Saturday in a Wexner Center concert celebrating the final weekend of the Andy Warhol: Other Voices, Other Rooms exhibition. It’s probably not overstating to say that Times New Viking (and a host of other bands) wouldn’t exist without the Velvet Underground.

And yet, since TNV’s boundary-pushing comes in the form of fuzzed-out pop songs that rarely make it past the 2 1/2-minute mark, there was a palpable sense of a curiosity and anticipation surrounding this show. How would Times New Viking interpret a seven-minute, dynamic-laden song like “Heroin”? Well, the band proved right away that it doesn’t mind taking a break from short shout-alongs to get all long and droney, and even (no joke) jam. “That’s already longer than most of our sets,” joked drummer/singer Adam Elliott after the first song, “Run Run Run,” off The Velvet Underground & Nico, from which the band drew the bulk of its material.

Times New Viking also had some help from a couple of friends: Mike Hummel--the white-haired elder statesman of the Columbus rock scene who’s perhaps better known as Mike Rep of Mike Rep and the Quotas--added guitar and vocals, and Cincinnati’s C. Spencer Yeh of Burning Star Core contributed squeals, squalls and drones on violin. TNV guitarist Jared Phillips used his usual Strat/Marshall setup, but singer Beth Murphy often took a break from the analog synth to play a bright red guitar. (If you’re counting, that’s three simultaneously strummed guitars at a Times New Viking show.)

The super group’s re-appropriations made for a mostly gratifying Valentine’s Day show. I’ll just get a couple complaints out of the way, the most glaring of which was Hummel’s guitar. It was consistently way too loud, which is a shame since the stuff he was playing added a lot. But he continually drowned out the rest of the band, especially Phillips. And while Yeh squeezed some amazing sounds out of his violin, often making it sound like a digital loop or guitar feedback, his contributions were hit and miss. He sounded great on the beautiful mess of “All Tomorrow’s Parties” and “I Can’t Stand It” but was inaudible on “I’m Waiting for the Man” and just in the way on “Femme Fatale”; I would have liked to hear Murphy’s synth instead on that one.

But the highlights were plentiful. Aided by strobe lights and a screen that showed mostly pixelated video of the Velvet Underground, the band nailed the loud-quiet-loud and fast-slow-fast dynamic of “Heroin,” which Hummel took growly lead vocals on. It was the best of the night. Elliott and Murphy’s tag-team vocals usually worked well, too, with endearingly imperfect harmonies--pretty, in an off-kilter way. And Murphy’s deadpan vocal delivery was a good match for Nico-led songs like “I’ll Be Your Mirror.”

Ending the night with “After Hours” off VU’s self-titled album--probably the only Velvets song that could be considered “cute”--the band invited members of RTFO Bandwagon to come up while Ron House took over vocal duties. Roses were handed out, and the crowd sang along. It was fun, it was goofy, it was a great ending to the night, and proof that even art-rock doesn’t have to take itself too seriously.

Hodge Podge

2009-02-16T10:11:00.005-05:00

-- "We are beautiful, we are doomed." That's the title of one of Los Campesinos!' two albums released in 2008, and it's also a fitting description of the band's show with Titus Andronicus at the Wexner Center last Wednesday. Titus Andronicus has no qualms airing their grievances in a tortured, messy way, thrashing around the stage with the punk vigor and reckless abandon that can only come from New Jersey youth. And boy did they look straight outta study hall. Or, probably more accurately, detention. They're definitely too young to be singing "I don't think I've ever been so tired of life," but the fact that they don't realize that made the near-trainwreck all the more fascinating to hear and watch. Los Campesinos! cloaked similar sentiments in more playful melodies, equal parts beauty and doom. I loved the boy-girl vocals, the excessive use of xylophone, the spoken rants, the Welsh accents, and, above all, the exuberance. This is the first band to earn the explanation point at the end of its name.

-- Watching Times New Viking tackle tunes from the Velvet Underground on Saturday night at the Wexner Center was bizarrely entertaining. In one way, it's fitting for art kids like TNV to re-appropriate and pay tribute to art-rock forefathers like the Velvets. But it's also shocking to see TNV play a song for more than two minutes, much less to engage in a droney jam. It made for a (mostly) pretty fun hour, though. Full review in next week's Other Paper.

-- I admittedly wouldn't know about Other Lives if I hadn't received a PR e-mail blast about them. But they're playing a show tonight at the Basement, opening up for the Delta Spirit. It's mopey but pretty stuff, so fans of Hayden, Strand of Oaks and even Coldplay and Elbow should find something to enjoy.

-- Athens, Ohio boys Southeast Engine released one of my favorite albums of 2007, A Wheel Within a Wheel. I think I'm a sucker for alliterative biblical lyrics, but that aside, I also think it's (post?)modern Americana at its best. There's a new album, From the Forest to the Sea, out tomorrow. I'm reserving judgment on that one till I give it a few more listens--review coming Thursday in the Other Paper--but check out Southeast Engine's album release show this Friday at the Treehouse with the Kyle Sowashes, the Coke Dares and Frontier Ruckus.

Victorian's Midnight Cafe

2009-02-12T09:27:00.004-05:00

Back in the day, when I used to play in a little acoustic duo, we'd play almost exclusively at Victorian's Midnight Cafe. I'm not sure how that started, and I'm still not completely sure why we kept it up. We never knew if there would be more than one mic, any mic stands or even any cables. More than once we showed up only to find out the owner double booked us. Once he even triple booked the place.

But, Victorian's is one of the comfiest spots in Columbus, like playing in an aging hippie's living room. And they always had cold bottles of Chimay. So hopefully the soon-to-be new owners (according to this post over at Cringe) will keep that laid-back vibe, but maybe not so laid-back that performers have to jerry-rig a mic stand out of found materials.

(ht: Donewaiting)

Music

2009-02-06T11:24:00.000-05:00

Today, while listening to Califone's deliciously off-kilter Roots and Crowns, I realized how many albums I love but rarely listen to anymore. I attribute this mostly to an unquenchable desire to hear everything new that comes out, and I attribute that desire to my part-time music-writer gig and the fact that this blog exists.

I certainly never get around to all of the stuff I want to hear, of course, but the aforementioned realization also led me to admit how absurd it is to have 55 records in my Top Albums of 2008. There's no way I could have listened to each of those 55 albums as many times as they deserved. And, there also seems to be a not-so-subtle relationship between the albums in my top 20 and the albums I was paid to review, since I felt more of a duty to spend more time with those records. (That is, while it may seem obvious that I would listen to the records in my top 20 most, maybe it's more accurate to say that I like the records in my top 20 most because I had to listen to them many times.)

Granted, I'll probably never experience albums in the same way I did as a high school sponge, which is a little sad, but I can still make a conscious effort to avoid iPod overload and spend more time with fewer albums. I'd like to be more choosy, explore old albums I forgot about and discover several musical forefathers I keep managing to gloss over in my search for what's glossy.

Super Bowl recap

2009-02-02T10:54:00.001-05:00

I still think Bruce Springsteen sucks.

Little Joy

2009-02-01T12:37:00.000-05:00

Perfect Floridian vacation soundtrack

Super Desserts - Barefoot in the Disenchanted Forest

2009-02-01T11:01:00.003-05:00

The Super Desserts’ new album is called Barefoot in the Disenchanted Forest, and it features song titles like “Still Unable to Speak...Claude Somehow Manages to Express His Opinion to a Pack of Wild Cougars, Who Are Surprisingly Supportive.” The CD also comes in a colorfully decorated 7-inch sleeve accompanied by a handmade, photocopied booklet full of collages, animals, people with animals’ heads and some hilarious liner notes.

All of this should tell you this ambitious, eccentric band has a predilection for the fantastical, along with lots of twee cuteness—hand claps, ukulele, banjo, glockenspiel, etc. Featuring Eve Searls (of Bird and Flower), Justin Riley (of Terribly Empty Pockets) and other local vets and newbies, the band is only made stronger by the full roster of capable musicians, rather than being weighed down. And while there’s a whole lot going on throughout the album, there are also moments of quiet, restrained beauty, like the guitar melody on “Steve Attends the Martian Funeral.…”

It’s not just a clever name. The Super Desserts are super sweet, but not like those nasty orange peanut-shaped candies that leave you feeling sick to your stomach. More like awesome fair food that leaves you fat and happy.

Catch the Super Desserts at the Treehouse Feb. 7 with Two Cow Garage, Ghost Shirt and Tree of Fern.

mp3: Super Desserts - On the Way to the Hospital, Claude is Riding on the Back Wheel of a Backward Jeep While Clara and Her Half-Brother are Riding on the Mystical Motorbike with the Three-Legged Unicorn (aka "Funeral")

(Also at The Other Paper)

Donewating 6-yr anniversary show: Envelope, Two Cow Garage, Moon High, Adulture

2009-02-01T10:45:00.003-05:00

(Late post of last week's show...)

I don’t pretend to be a connoisseur of the Columbus hip-hop scene. In fact, my knowledge pretty much ends with a passing familiarity of the Weightless Recordings roster and Wes Flexner’s entertaining ramblings on local music blog Donewaiting.com. So I can’t really compare Envelope’s performance for Donewaiting’s six-year anniversary show at Skully’s last weekend with other hometown rappers’ performances. But man does this guy put on a great show.

First off, it’s refreshing to see someone put so much time and energy into an actual stage show, as opposed to just getting up there, staring at the ground and going through the motions. Envelope (aka Tony Collinger) billed the night as “Envelope presents The Corner Store,” and he meant that quite literally. The guy constructed a huge set (mostly out of cardboard, I think) for the stage--what looked like a corner store stocked with cereal, ranch dressing, Magnum condoms, chips, etc. It made for a long set changeover, but worth the wait.

Collinger comes off like a lovable goofball bounding around the stage--a far cry from ultra-macho, egomaniacal emcees obsessed with proclaiming their lyrical superiority and sexual prowess. He’s humble, yet highly entertaining, with a self-deprecating sense of humor. (On one track from 2008’s Blueprint-produced Shark Bolt, he says, “I’ll even admit that I’m annoyed when I hear too much of my own voice.”)

It was definitely a sloppy show. Collinger has a great flow but can’t sing for his life; luckily he usually asked the crowd to help out with the sing-along refrains (e.g. “I’m not poor, I’m just broke, broke as hell”). He also screwed up one of my favorite lines from “Oh My My My...,” a complaint about the letdowns of science: “They got wisdom like the Masons lack secrets.” But he made up for it with some other choice nuggets: “American Apparel’s owned by a sexual predator”; “Lost my swagger so I started jogging/ Beer gut, not so awesome”; “If we’re so smart, and nothing is left unexplored/ Then why’s it 2009 and I don’t have my hoverboard?”

He’s also more acutely perceptive than he gives himself credit for. “Day Dream Nation” does a pretty good job of diagnosing society’s ills and skewering the culprits--a group from which he doesn’t exclude himself.

And while an Envelope album is all about the smirky, everyman lyrics, an Envelope show is more about the experience. Just a playful, talented dude dropping rhymes, shouting out to his friends (like onstage deejay Detox) and acting out tongue-in-cheek skits with other friends (like The Catalyst). A fellow TOP critic described Envelope’s last album as quintessentially “Columbus,” and that goes for the Whetstone grad himself, too. Collinger unapologetically embraces this city, and we’d be right to return the favor.

Two Cow Garage gave one of its typical gerbil-on-a-speedball performances, with all the gusto and grit we’ve come to expect from the band, along with a near-overdose of catchy choruses. I’ve been doling out ego boosters to these guys a lot recently, so I won’t go on and on, but I have no qualms calling Two Cow the best live rock band in Columbus. Oh, and the drummer smashed half of his drum set on the last song.

I didn’t stay for laptop duo Adulture’s closing set, but the young’uns played some cool stuff in between acts, doing impressive live edits of Portishead and more. Moon High, a newish folk-inspired act I’ve been enjoying, opened the show with one of the most upbeat songs I’ve heard from the usually super-placid band. I’m excited to hear more of that. Musically, the rest of the set was pretty solid, too, but I tend to think atmosphere is more crucial than usual when watching Moon High perform, and Skully’s garish surroundings seemed to clash with the band’s aesthetic (foot-switchable globe lights, banjo plucking, tranquil songwriting). I’d rather experience the songs at a place like the Treehouse (where the band performed this past Friday with the Couch Forts) than at what someone recently described to me as “Columbus’s version of L.A.”

(Also at The Other Paper)

Brian Harnetty - Treehouse, 1/16/09

2009-01-22T11:13:00.004-05:00

It’s amazing what can fall through the cracks.

The Other Paper (and this blog) dedicates a fair amount of increasingly valuable print space to local musicians, either trumpeting their fine contributions to the Columbus scene or providing some (hopefully) constructive criticism that readers can digest as an intriguing analysis, helpful caution or yet more proof that we’re a bunch of buffoons who must have been at a different show or listening to a different album.

But Friday’s show at the Treehouse just proves there is always more to discover in this city. Before a few weeks ago, I had never heard of Brian Harnetty, even though he released a well-received album on Chicago’s Atavistic Records in 2007. His stuff is utterly unique, though I should probably stop being surprised at Columbus artists who are doing things unlike anything I’ve heard before. Harnetty takes found sounds and archival material and weaves them together with his own instrumentation. For American Winter, he immersed himself in the Berea College Appalachian Sound Archives in Kentucky, eventually coming up with a composition comprising old field recordings of songs and interviews, plus radio addresses and other various sounds, combined with live instruments that unobtrusively thread it all together like gossamer connective tissue.

Harnetty rarely plays live, so experiencing his too-short set at the Treehouse felt like a privilege, and the venue’s naturalistic, homey setting was the perfect spot for the intimacy of these songs--except for the frigid temperatures in that back room on one of the coldest nights of the year. Brrr. It wasn’t a scintillating stage show by any means, nor was it intended to be--just the tall, unassuming Harnetty seated below the Treehouse Christmas lights with his gear and occasional sparse accompaniment from others on drums, xylophone, etc. It was a stark contrast of new and old, with a laptop and various knobby devices settled next to an acetate-spinner playing worn, scratchy vinyl, full of authenticating hisses and pops.

Listening to Harnetty’s pastiches feels like eavesdropping on the past. He often includes the moments just before or after an old recording of a tune, capturing revealing comments about songs, or just highlighting the ponderous and sometimes awkward moments when the singer finishes singing--to great effect on “That’s Drunkard’s Dream, Nearly Everybody Knows It.”

Harnetty never overpowers the source material. His subtle accompaniment on the keys and various digital devices lends a sense of deference to the recordings. It’s music to drop your head and close your eyes to. Most of what he played was from the coming Silent City, which will be released on Atavistic this spring. The exciting wrinkle to these new songs is that they sprang from a collaboration with Will Oldham (aka Bonnie “Prince” Billy), who sings over the new arrangements in a way that feels consistent with Harnetty’s previous work. It’s still dreamily Appalachian, and all the lyrics are folk-song fragments combined with phrases from Oldham and Harnetty.

This collaboration with Oldham, whose fans tend to obsess over his prodigious output, could bring Harnetty a new level of exposure, and for good reason. Judging by the tunes he debuted on Friday night, the new stuff is just as strong, if not stronger, than American Winter, retaining that archival quality while inviting a talent like Oldham into his ghostly world.

mp3: Brian Harnetty - That's Drunkard's Dream, Nearly Everybody Knows It

(Also at The Other Paper)

Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavilion

2009-01-21T09:23:00.002-05:00

I can’t believe it’s happening already. Despite the calendar date, people are calling Animal Collective’s new album, Merriweather Post Pavilion, the best record of 2009. And by “people” I mean “the Internet.” Oh, bloggers. Must you become a cliché so early in the year?

When you hit “play” on the first track, “In the Flowers,” you may wonder what it is that supposedly makes this latest effort such a cut above Animal Collective’s previous output (which, in my opinion, is spotty). The song sounds like typical, droney, abstruse Animal Collective. That is, until about the two-and-a-half minute mark, when the drums kick in, the blanket of synth changes and the vocals become a head-turning melody: “Then we could be dancing, and you’d smile and say, ‘I like this song.’” That line pretty much sums up this album. It’s Animal Collective--Avey Tare, Panda Bear and Geologist (Deakin is absent)--at its most danceable, and it’s Animal Collective in its most universally appealing and accessible form yet.

Now, “accessible” in Animal Collective terms doesn’t mean the band is about to jump on tour with Hoobastank. It just means that if you’re riding in the car with your parents, and you blast this album immediately after the band’s last one, Strawberry Jam, your parents might not hate you quite as much. It appears Animal Collective will always be psychedelic and experimental--and therefore always rankling to some ears--so listening to the band still takes some patience. But the payoff from time spent with Merriweather Post Pavilion is more rewarding than any previous AC album. And it’s really the thick, gurgly, electro-soundscapes these guys create that maintain the group’s experimental feel. If you extracted just the ’60s-pop vocals, they often wouldn’t be out of place in a sunny car commercial with a sedan navigating curvy lanes.

Even Animal Collective’s lyrics, which are notoriously inscrutable, are thematically stronger on this album, if only because a theme just may exist. Several of the songs--and snippets of others--are overtly sexualized. You can’t get much more straightforward than, “I really want to do just what my body wants to/ I really want to show to my girl that I want her” (from “Guys Eyes”). Sometimes it’s not quite as sexual (“I want to walk around with you”), but you get the feeling it’s all part of the pursuit. Plus, there’s all those freak-dancey beats driving the point home.

Other songs merely ruminate about everyday happenings (“Daily Routine”). Still, few people listen to Animal Collective to parse the lyrics. The songs, and Merriweather as a whole, convey mood more than message. There’s no reason to overly analyze a simple meditation like “I don’t mean to seem like I care about material things... I just want four walls and adobe slabs for my girls.” It’s best just to accept that “My Girls” is a great song.

One blogger recently made a rambling argument that Animal Collective was made for, by and on the Internet, meaning, Animal Collective wouldn’t exist without online communities of vociferous hipsters trumpeting their urbane musical tastes as much as they trumpet Animal Collective’s genius. That may very well be true, but that can be said for countless bands today, and to jettison any artist solely because of that is equally grating.

So whether Merriweather Post Pavilion is 2009’s best album is beside the point. What’s clear to me is that this band has created its best album yet, while also (potentially) increasing its listening audience. Let’s let that be enough.

Animal Collective: Made by/for/on the Internet?

2009-01-15T10:51:00.002-05:00

So says Hipster Runoff.

He makes some good points, I think, but I find that to be the most annoying writing style ever. Maybe I'm a curmudgeon, but I just can't stomach lazy, uber-Internet writing of that magnitude. Fr rlz.

Ghost Shirt, Couch Forts, Wing & Tusk, Phantods - Skully's

2009-01-15T08:10:00.003-05:00

Four local bands played Skully’s on Friday night, and the place was packed. I don’t know if these bands just draw really well, or that was the only thing going on. Or maybe Skully’s always does that well on Friday nights and I just didn’t realize it. Whatever the reason, bully for you, Columbus, for supporting the locals.

For the most part, the bands didn’t disappoint. I was most excited to Ghost Shirt, one of the city’s most promising new bands. Singer/guitarist Branden Barnett led the band through a set of meticulously arranged songs rife with magnetic hooks that felt vaguely familiar but rarely rehashed, taking lessons from the Lemonheads, the Kinks and, like any rock group that embraces its inner pop, the Beatles.

I liked the songs from other vocalist/guitarist Phil Palma, too, but Barnett rightfully took the center stage spot next to Ghost Shirt’s exceptionally smiley violinist. Barnett has an electric presence live, and his strong vocals keep the pretty melodies from ever sounding precious. The slow crooner of the night (“History of the Blue,” I think) was nice, too, though probably a little lengthy for this crowd.

Ghost Shirt apparently has a 10-song demo CD circulating, which I’d like to get my hands on, but I’m hoping I don’t have to wait too long to hear a proper release by this band.

Following up Ghost Shirt was Couch Forts, a three-piece of electric guitar, banjo and violin that drew me in with their extraordinary musicianship. The songs rarely contained chords, instead opting for intricately picked patterns on each instrument that merged to create a surprisingly streamlined melodic base. Somehow this trio made virtuosic complexity sound simple.

Singer/guitarist Owen Kelley sang with unpretentious nerdiness and vigor, sounding like a mash-up of John Darnielle and Colin Meloy. Then, whenever he punctuated the beat with a floor tom, he’d spit lyrics with an edgy impetuosity. I mentioned last week that Couch Forts fit in well with fellow Columbus quirk-folkies Our Cat Philip and Super Desserts, which is true, but this band is still one-of-a-kind stylistically. If three leprechaun musicians woke up one morning and decided to renounce their Irish heritage and supplant it with Appalachia, I think it would sound like the Couch Forts. (The band prefers a shorter description: “yellowgrass.”) The downside is, Kelley’s vocal cadence is so static and the vibe is so consistent that after a few songs it felt like one long song. Some more structural and vocal creativity in the songwriting would be welcome.

Having never seen Wing & Tusk live before, I probably mischaracterized the band a bit in my preview last week by describing its sound as “brittle, Pedro the Lion-esque folk-pop.” There’s definitely some Pedro the Lion in there, and some folk-pop in Wing & Tusk’s recorded material, but live, Wing & Tusk was much more grandiose and sweeping than I had anticipated. (Guess that’s what I get for going solely off a band’s two Myspace songs.) What was brittle, however, was singer Joshua Rea’s voice. I’m OK with brittle voices, but Rea seemed to be going more for reverby, majestic vocals--not unlike a more epic and less pastoral Band Of Horses--and his consistent vocal cracks messed with that feeling some. I don’t know if he was singing out of his range, or if he just a bad night.

That didn’t ruin the songs by any means, though, and the band’s swell-filled rock was a nice contrast to Couch Forts.

The place was still packed when Phantods took the stage to close the night. Gretchen King is Phantods’ main attraction; her soaring vocals are a treat to hear live. I also applaud the band for taking chances and tackling so many genres, often in just one song. But to my ears, the band’s various influences car-crash into each other as often as they complement. The wide swaths of head-banging, metallic guitar don’t always cozy up next to the carousel melodies and waltzy interludes. I’d love to hear more songs where the heavy riffage is toned down, or at least sounds more seamless and less surgically implanted.

(Also at The Other Paper)

Learning to listen

2009-01-12T22:35:00.000-05:00

At a recent event hosted by the Grace Central Arts Guild, a group of people (myself included) did something extremely rare. We sat around and listened to music together. Each person brought a song on vinyl or CD to share--because it meant something to that person, or it was just a particularly great song, etc. (I brought "3 Broken Words" by the Black Swans because a. I love the one-of-a-kind, hand-painted vinyl packaging of Change! and the accompanying insert, b. the Black Swans' unhurried pace causes me to physically slow down and mentally take stock, and c. I think it's a shining example of music that's both gorgeous and forlorn.)

Getting together with other people for the sole purpose of listening to music seems like such a simple concept, and yet I can't remember another time in the last few years when I listened intently to recorded music while the people around me followed suit. In that intimate setting, I was amazed by how much I could appreciate a song--because of its musical strengths, sure, but more so because I listened to someone else explain why the song meant something to him or her. I can honestly say it's the first time I truly "got" opera.

I listen to music on my own all the time, of course, sometimes focusing solely on the album, sometimes just as background music. And, if you'll allow me to sound like a pretentious music writer for just a second, lemme give you a tip: If you really want to get to the bottom of an album, to truly understand it, listen with headphones. Not those standard-issue iPod headphones or old-school Walkman headphones. Really good headphones that allow you to hear all the intricacies of the recording. (They don't have to break the bank, either. I've got an in-ear set from Sony that's terrific.)

It may sound obvious, but I've found it's one of the only ways to utterly immerse yourself in the music--removing all other auditory distractions. Slowly, all the mental walls that prevent you from absorbing the music begin crumbling, and all that's left is you and the artist.

So, two challenges for the musically inclined (including myself):

1. Find time to listen to music--and discuss--with other people, and that's all. The only other thing on the agenda for the evening should be the brand of coffee or beer.

2. Listen to full albums alone on a nice set of headphones. (If you're the type who composes end-of-the-year lists, mental or otherwise, I'd wager that the albums toward the top will be ones you spent the most time with in this way.)

Charlie Louvin Sings Murder Ballads and Disaster Songs

2009-01-09T11:48:00.003-05:00

I’m usually not much for the unrealistic notion of beginning a new year with a clean slate, but as a music reviewer, it’s a good time to clean out the musical attic clogging my my brain. Digitally serviced zip files are vying for mental space next to watermarked promo discs and countless, breathless press releases promising the most genre-bending, life-altering batches of songs heard in decades.

A friend recently lent me some John Lee Hooker, and getting back to the blues has helped cleanse the musical palate. I figured some good ole country songs--of the grizzled, noncommercial variety--could do the same. Released in December, Charlie Louvin Sings Murder Ballads and Disaster Songs has filled that role quite nicely, though its appeal goes beyond my original, utilitarian intent.

There aren’t too many country singers with more cred than Louvin, now an 81-year-old Country Music Hall of Famer. Louvin and his brother, Ira, got their start as the Louvin Brothers, racking up hits on the country charts until Ira died in a car crash in 1965. Charlie continued on with a successful solo career, inspiring Gram Parsons (who famously covered “The Christian Life” and “Cash on the Barrelhead”) and the next generation of alt-country acts.

Louvin had a comeback of sorts in 2007 when Tompkins Square released his first album in 10 years, a self-titled, Grammy-nominated collaboration with folks like Jeff Tweedy, Elvis Costello and Will Oldham.

Tompkins also released a box set last year called People Take Warning! Murder Ballads & Disaster Songs 1913-1938, which apparently tickled Louvin’s fancy, since he included nine of those songs on this new album. Louvin’s got a cracker-jack band to back him on these vintage, three-chord country/folk songs, but it’s his worn, fraying vocals that give them a soul.

Some of the tracks are tragedies meant to break your heart (“The Little Grave in Georgia”), while others have a comedic edge (“Dixie Boll Weevil”). “Down with the Old Canoe,” which tells the Titanic story around the theme of hubris, serves as a warning so we can avoid such an untimely end by not getting too big for our britches: “When you think that you are wise, then you need not be surprised/ That the hand of God should stop you on life’s seas.”

“Wreck on the Highway” feels the most personal, as it could be right out of Louvin’s life. “There was whiskey and blood all together, mixed with glass where they lay/ Death played her hand in destruction, but I didn't hear nobody pray” goes one verse, and the sorrow is punctuated on each chorus, as Louvin sings at the top of his warbled, lonesome register, “I didn’t hear nobody pray, dear brother.”

It’s cathartic for Louvin, I’m sure, but the same goes for the listener. In this veteran’s take on old traditionals, even death itself can sound cleansing.

More lists

2008-12-31T12:28:00.002-05:00

This week's Other Paper has my top five albums for 2008, along with brief write-ups, and the top five Columbus albums (all of which you'll probably recognize).

Semi-regular posting will resume next week.

This week's Other Paper

2008-12-21T10:54:00.002-05:00

Christmas music reviews: Rosie Thomas's A Very Rosie Christmas! here, Julian Koster's The Singing Saw at Christmastime here.

Dear Time

2008-12-18T11:04:00.004-05:00

TV on the Radio's Dear Science has been popping up on a whole lot of "Best of 2008" lists, even topping off compendiums by mainstream mags like Spin and Rolling Stone. I could bemoan how blog culture is becoming synonymous with the mainstream press like Idolator did, but I'd rather just be happy that most people--Big Media and bloggers/blog readers alike--seem to recognize how great this album is, and they're giving TV on the Radio the credit it deserves for this one (it nabbed the #4 spot on my list).

Time has joined the party too, awarding Dear Science the #2 spot. Now, I hate to be one of those guys who critiques someone else's critique, but I have to say the accompanying writeup smacked of ignorance, especially this line: "With its Beach Boys '"ba-ba-bas" and killer lo-fi guitar, "Halfway Home" is all propulsion and energy, the best album opener of the year."

True, it's a great opener, but "lo-fi guitar"? Is it me, or does almost nothing on this album, guitars included, even approach lo-fi? To my ears, this is one of the most crisp, cleanly recorded albums I heard all year. I don't hear it.

And one more quibble with the closer: "Hopefully the merging of their cerebral side with melodies you can actually hum will finally get TVotR an audience outside their borough." To say that TVotR hasn't had an audience outside Brooklyn until now is just uninformed, lazy journalism.

Guilty Pleasure?

2008-12-17T08:55:00.003-05:00

I like the new Fall Out Boy album. In fact, I'll go so far as to say I like most of Fall Out Boy's albums. Yeah, Pete Wentz is a spotlight whore whose lyrics can sometimes be as annoyingly narcissistic as his eyeliner, but Patrick Stump is the real talent. The dude has turned into a real-deal singer, and he has a seemingly endless supply of huge hooks in his head. (And a cameo from Elvis Costello on the eighth track makes up for blatantly stealing the guitar riff from "Teenage Wasteland" on the first track.)

I'll just say this: Folie a Deux is the best Island/Def Jam promo I've received in quite a while (I'm looking in your direction Kanye and Killers).

Love is All, Crystal Stilts, Times New Viking

2008-12-15T11:26:00.003-05:00

All of the above bands will be playing tonight at the Summit, next to Cafe Bourbon St. I was supposed to cover the show but woke up feeling like sh*tgaze. It should be a good show, though, and I recommend checking it out. I'm betting the first band will go on around 10 or 10:30. Love is All is a crazy bunch of Swedes playing a crazy bunch of jittery punk, Crystal Stilts play really morose songs that should appeal to the Joy Division crowd or those who like their post-punk sopping wet with reverb. And if you don't know Columbus's own Times New Viking by now, you should.

Anyway, the show tonight also made me already realize I forgot Crystal Stilts' Alight of Night on that big list below. You can mentally insert it somewhere between 35 and 55. (On a semi-related note, I probably should have included the Raconteurs' Consolers of the Lonely somewhere, too.)

Top 55 albums of 2008

2008-12-11T14:38:00.004-05:00

I’ve been looking over and reordering this list for a couple weeks, and I’m sure it would change a bit again after another couple weeks and some more re-listening, but at some point you gotta stop and go with what you got. Probably not too many surprises here for regular readers of this blog (all two of you). I’ll also give the usual disclaimer that there are plenty of albums I just never got around to. Oh, and looming deadlines are preventing me from adding any mp3s or (attempts at) pithy descriptions below each. Use the Hype Machine and your imagination, respectively.

1. Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago
2. Frightened Rabbit - The Midnight Organ Fight
3. Shearwater - Rook
4. TV on the Radio - Dear Science
5. Blitzen Trapper - Furr
6. Deerhunter - Microcastle
7. Okkervil River - The Stand Ins
8. Sigur Rós - Með Suð Í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust
9. The Welcome Wagon - Welcome to the Welcome Wagon
10. The Hold Steady - Stay Positive
11. Gentleman Auction House - Alphabet Graveyard
12. The Low Anthem - Oh My God, Charlie Darwin
13. The Tallest Man on Earth - Shallow Grave
14. Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes
15. Anathallo - Canopy Glow
16. Man Man - Rabbit Habbits
17. Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend
18. MGMT - Oracular Spectacular
19. Son Lux - At War with Walls and Mazes
20. The Black Keys - Attack & Release
21. My Morning Jacket - Evil Urges
22. Margot & the Nuclear So & So’s - Animal/Not Animal
23. Ra Ra Riot - The Rhumb Line
24. Matt Bauer - The Island Moved in the Storm
25. Alina Simone - Everyone is Calling Out to Me, Beware
26. R.E.M. - Accelerate
27. Mates of State - Re-arrange Us
28. Dodos - Visiter
29. No Age - Nouns
30. The Mountain Goats - Heretic Pride
31. Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson - Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson
32. The Avett Brothers - The Second Gleam
33. Horse Feathers - House with No Home
34. Conor Oberst - Conor Oberst
35. Bodies of Water - A Certain Feeling
36. Centro-Matic/South San Gabriel - Dual Hawks
37. Death Cab for Cutie - Narrow Stairs
38. Bowerbirds - Hymns for a Dark Horse
39. Sun Kil Moon - April
40. Titus Andronicus - The Airing of Grievances
41. The Weepies - Hideaway
42. Butch Walker - Sycamore Meadows
43. Ryan Adams - Cardinology
44. Department of Eagles - In Ear Park
45. The Uglysuit - The Uglysuit
46. Bombadil - A Buzz, A Buzz
47. Throw Me the Statue - Moonbeams
48. Dr. Dog - Fate
49. The Walkmen - You & Me
50. Thao & the Get Down Stay Down - We Brave Bee Stings & All
51. Titles - Up with the Sun
52. Little Joy - Little Joy
53. Lambchop - OH (ohio)
54. Plants & Animals - Parc Avenue
55. Love is All - A Hundred Things Keep Me Up at Night

Best Columbus albums 2008

2008-12-10T15:05:00.000-05:00

Since I already gave away that Miranda Sound's self-titled record is my favorite of Columbus album of 2008, I figured I should post all top ten. So here they are, though after the top three the order itself doesn't mean a whole lot--some of these will switch spots with others, depending on the week, day or whatever mood I'm in. The point is, these are all great records. 2008 was a good year for Columbus music. (Links go to previous reviews.)

1. Miranda Sound - Miranda Sound
2. Times New Viking - Rip It Off, Stay Awake E.P.
3. Melty Melty - Rise of the Birdmen
4. Two Cow Garage - Speaking in Cursive
5. Envelope - Shark Bolt!
6. The Lost Revival - Homemade Confetti
7. Moon High - Moon High
8. Our Cat Philip - Apart of Someone
9. Sinkane - Color Voice
10. Brainbow - Brainbow

Sunken Treasure Records: Free!

2008-12-09T15:34:00.007-05:00

Sunken Treasure Records, Robert Duffy's Donewaiting.com companion label, announced it's offering its entire catalog as free downloads this month.

You'd be a big dummy not to take advantage of this. If nothing else, at least grab the new (and sadly, last) Miranda Sound record. It's my favorite Columbus album of 2008. But there's also Eric Metronome, the Evil Queens, Megan Palmer and the Celebrity Pilots. So go start downloading.

In other Sunken Treasure news, Duffy also announced an upcoming Black Swans/Alina Simone 7" split next year, as well as the debut from Eve Searles aka Bird and Flower.

Moviola, D. Charles Speer & the Helix - Surly Girl Saloon

2008-12-09T15:17:00.003-05:00

Friday’s Moviola show was my second Surly Girl concert experience, the first being the Alina Simone/Jerry DeCicca show back in July. Right now Surly Girl is two for two in my book, and I’ll likely head to more in the future if the bar keeps it up.

Only a living room could be more intimate than this space. Pass all the mildly hectic eating and drinking in the front section of the Short North bar/eatery and you’ll eventually hit a curtain that serves as a visual and aural divider. Behind it, there’s the tiniest of stages and some chairs and benches that look more like church pews. Recessed and red-rope lighting cast a warm, subdued glow to the “Parlour.”

Suffice it to say, it was a nice, relaxed setting in which to watch Moviola, a Columbus band that has now been in existence about 14 years, with some silent periods sprinkled throughout. The last proper Moviola full-length came last year in the form of Dead Knowledge, one of 2007’s strongest Columbus releases. This year also saw Spirit of Orr release Broken Horses, a collection of songs from the band’s early period, 1994 to 2001.

Friday night was a pieced-together affair with false starts, flubbed notes and imperfect harmonies, but none of that detracted from my enjoyment too much. Guitarist Jerry Dannemiller opened the night with a nice rendition of “Children, Go Where I Send Thee,” an African-American spiritual/Christmas tune he dedicated to the recently deceased Odetta. I was also glad to hear a fair amount from Dead Knowledge, especially “Rudy,” “Akron to Oakland” and “Spanish Moss.” All five members took turns on vocals, as is Moviola’s custom, including keyboardist Parker Paul, who’s apparently a permanent fixture in the band now; his voice often reminded me of Neutral Milk Hotel’s Jeff Mangum.

I’ve just recently started exploring Moviola’s entire catalog, but I can safely assert today’s Moviola sounds quite different from the ’90s version. There has almost always been a rootsy sound that would make an “Americana” classification tough to dispute, but the band’s fuzzy early days were characterized by a more lo-fi approach, earning them Pavement comparisons that probably weren’t undeserved.

But watching Moviola perform, I couldn’t help but wonder if any slacker-rock tags were, in retrospect, an oversimplification. Maybe the band never was slacker rock, just laid-back and unfussy enough to seem like slackers. Whether in its current, rootsier form or lo-fi campus-kids version, Moviola approaches recording and performing in a relaxed, unstrained way that expresses something honest and true.

Sure, it may seem silly to attempt any deep analysis of five aging musicians on a small stage having some fun on a Friday night for a rare gig. But it made me appreciate Moviola for playing music with such rewarding nonchalance.

The intimate stage wasn’t quite as friendly to New Yorkers D. Charles Speer and the Helix, but only because Speer himself (real name: Dave Shuford) is a tall scarecrow of a man, and Surly Girl’s one little spot lamp was practically butting up against his forehead during the set.

But he was a good sport, and after some adjustments to the mix, Shuford’s baritone carried the songs, especially on some of the more muted country tunes. The band’s skilled lead guitarist needed a lesson or two in knowing when not to play his Nashville riffs, but Shuford’s quirky guitar leads, which were more prone to psychedelic flourishes, were an essential part of each song. That said, I could have used a little more psychedelia in the set. While a couple of these guys also play in uber-experimental troupe No-Neck Blues Band, it was often hard to tell.

mp3s: Download Dead Knowledge for free, courtesy of Catbird Records.
mp3: D. Charles Speer & the Helix - Single Again

Critic-based pricing structure

2008-12-08T10:28:00.002-05:00

Got this press release from Asthmatic Kitty today. They're experimenting with a new pricing structure that's based on critics' reviews of the label's albums. Well, sort of. In this trial run, critics = Pitchfork. Thoughts? Also, think this statement is true? "It's 2008, but until now [music critics'] point systems had absolutely no effect on the value of music."

Here's the full release:

Music label Asthmatic Kitty Records is experimenting with a new post-In Rainbows method of determining the price of an album. Instead of allowing the consumer to dictate price, Asthmatic Kitty looked to the next obvious choice to determine the value of an album: the music critic.

Today, renowned and respected indie rock critics Pitchfork Media released a review of Ropechain, the second full length album from Indianapolis-based Grampall Jookabox. Employing their 10-point system, Pitchfork scored the album at a 5.4.

Asthmatic Kitty will therefore sell Ropechain for $5.40 for 54 hours from 9am, December 8th.

"Pitchfork's ten point scoring system, along with their infamous one decimal point makes them the ideal choice for a dry run with this experimental pricing structure. It just makes dollars and sense," said Michael Kaufmann, A&R.

Moose, frontman for Grampall Jookabox, commented, "I know that it has been a long and difficult road for music critics everywhere. It's 2008, but until now their point systems had absolutely no effect on the value of music. Today, they rightly take their place as determiners of the value of music. "

Both Moose and Kaufmann are so excited about this new move for the label and band that they quickly collaborated in a music video of "Let's Get Mad Together" from Ropechain to commemorate the new pricing structure. Moose dons a dollar bill costume and dances while Kaufmann stands on his head. The video is here:
http://vimeo.com/2446399

Whether this pricing structure will proliferate through the entire record industry depends both on the experiment's success at Asthmatic Kitty Records, and the willingness of music critics to adjust their reviews to fit currency valuation. Just as Radiohead's album sale did, this move may send shock waves through the industry. It is expected that those publications using grade levels, percentage points, or "stars" may have to quickly adjust. Some have purportedly already started converting their scores straight into U.S. dollars.

Consumers wishing to participate in the experiment can buy the album from this news item:
http://asthmatickitty.com/news.php?newsID=372

Welcome to the Welcome Wagon

2008-12-03T08:59:00.003-05:00

Sufjan Stevens is woefully behind on that whole 50-albums-about-50-states project he started a few years ago. He covered Michigan in 2003 and Illinois in ’05, but since then all we’ve heard, other than a Christmas box set (which I recommend--’tis the season!), was 2006’s Illinois outtakes, The Avalanche.

I, for one, have been getting impatient for more Sufjan, and now, finally, I have something to sate my need for Soof. No, there’s still no new release, but the Stevens-produced debut from the Welcome Wagon is a more-than-capable stand in ’till then.

The husband-wife team of Vito and Monique Aiuto form the band’s core, and like Stevens, much of the Aiutos’ music is biblically anchored, though more overtly in this case. Given Vito’s day job as pastor of a Presbyterian church in Williamsburg, Brooklyn (remember “Vito’s Ordination Song” on Michigan?), it’s not surprising. A few of the songs on Welcome to the Welcome Wagon are reworked versions of old spirituals, and the album cover and jacket are filled with dated, Precious Moments-evoking images. It’s purposefully campy and perhaps a bit ironic, but you get the feeling the couple is also sincere when the cover says, “May it help to comfort and sustain you.”

In the liner notes--written by Stevens, of course--he describes the Welcome Wagon as gospel music that is “refreshingly plain,” explaining that “it doesn’t impose its religious pitch on the listener with hyped up garnishes of sound; it merely conveys the deepest of convictions with the deadpan verdict of a surgeon.”

That’s pretty accurate. The Welcome Wagon manages to write gospel music that preaches without preachiness. Part of that’s the unadorned way in which the couple sings: Vito sounds astoundingly similar to Sufjan, and Monique’s voice is so childlike and dryly sweet that disliking it is akin to punching a puppy. The record’s charming, homespun vibe also plays a part in the band’s lack of pretense. The last song ends with Monique admitting, “Um, I screwed up twice.”

Old spirituals aren’t the only revamped source material here. The Auitos try their hand at the Smiths’ “Half a Person” and the Velvet Underground’s “Jesus,” and Daniel Smith (of Danielson) gets the songwriting credit for “Sold! To the Nice Rich Man.” It’s not surprisingly the most springy, near-danceable track.

Stevens’s fingerprints are all over the album, which makes sense, as he produced, recorded, engineered and mixed it, not to mention added vocals, banjo, bass, guitar, drums and on and on--more instruments than Vito and Monique combined. And in typical Sufjan fashion, some of the arrangements are overly ambitious (“I Am a Stranger”) and threaten to topple the “refreshingly plain” songs. But others, like the woozy marching-band romp of “You Made My Day,” are perfect.

So yes, it’s an album to tide you over till the next Sufjan Stevens outing, but it’s more than that, too. For me, that realization crystallized on the songs Vito wrote himself, like “American Legion.” At times it’s just Vito and a simple acoustic guitar recounting a somber memory. “If I’d been there I’d surely have stayed with you/ If I’d been there I’d surely have prayed for you, I want you to know,” he sings. It’s one of several moments where I realized this pastor and his wife are something special, with or without their friend with the funny first name.

Welcome to the Welcome Wagon is out Dec. 9 on Asthmatic Kitty Records.

mp3: The Welcome Wagon - Sold! To the Nice Rich Man

Dean & Britta: 13 Most Beautiful... Songs for Andy Warhol's Screen Tests

2008-11-27T18:08:00.003-05:00

There certainly hasn’t been a lack of programming associated with the Wexner Center’s “Andy Warhol: Other Voices, Other Rooms” exhibition, especially of the musical variety. And for good reason, considering Warhol’s inseparability from the Velvet Underground.

There was the Robert Forster event, at which the former Go-Between covered the Velvets; in February, Times New Viking will do the same. And last Thursday, Dean & Britta gave a performance that combined with Andy Warhol visuals to create a captivating hour of mixed media.

“Dean” refers to Dean Wareham, former frontman of genre-shapers Galaxie 500 and its successful follow-up, Luna, of which Britta Phillips eventually became a member. For this show, Dean & Britta performed (mostly) new music to complement 13 of Warhol’s famous “screen tests,” also throwing in a Bob Dylan cover (“I’ll Keep It With Mine”) and a Velvet Underground tune (“Not a Young Man Anymore”).

Warhol made around 500 of these screen tests at his studio, the Factory, each of them being shot with a 16 mm camera on 100-foot rolls of silent, black and white film. The films normally would have lasted 2¾ minutes apiece, but they were projected so that they ended up as 4-minute films, the slight slow-motion effect elongating and exaggerating any movements.

Some of the subjects seen in the featured screen tests were well known. A young Dennis Hopper cycled through several emotions, looking fierce, confused, amused and contemplative. Velvet Underground vocalist Nico, someone who was undoubtedly used to cameras, seemed bored and slightly annoyed. Lou Reed drank a bottle of Coke, making art of a mass-produced item—a concept made famous by Warhol.

Between a few of the songs, Wareham gave a little commentary on the video portraits. Sometimes the background was a nice addition, and other times I wished I had plugged my ears, because the story and emotions I was projecting onto the images were more interesting than the reality.

Take the screen test of Ann Buchanan. While Dean & Britta played a song called “Singer Sing,” the dark-haired, dark-eyed Buchanan gazed unfalteringly at the camera as tears began to well up in her eyes and eventually cascade down her face one at a time. It had me wondering what could be causing so much sadness in her life. Or was it something Warhol was saying in the background of the silent film that we, the viewers, weren’t privy to? And how did she remain so stone-faced with such internal grief?

Perhaps if I’d been more observant, I would have noticed that the tears were merely a result of not blinking for nearly three minutes, as Wareham noted after the song. That explains the stone face and lack of any visible grief other than the tears. Still, I like my version better.

Wareham’s comments about Freddie Herko, on the other hand, were a welcome—if a bit disturbing—confirmation of suspicions I already had. Herko appeared shifty and angry in his screen test, at times looking downright menacing. Something was not right with him, like a man searching for peace but finding the opposite. The band accompanied the portrait with a repetitive instrumental melody that built to an intense climax toward the end of the film.

Turns out Herko, a dancer, committed suicide soon after the screen test. At 29, he leapt out the window of a friend’s apartment. He also was a speed freak, which would account for some of the shiftiness, too.

During the performance, the musicians often faced the video screen, undoubtedly taking cues from the larger-than-life projections. The Velvets cover, appropriately played during Reed’s test, was the only real rocker of the night. Most songs were marked by Dean & Britta’s dream-pop vibe, a nice companion to the portraits.

Wareham’s voice oozed his usual indolent cool, and Phillips’s silky-sweet singing was almost as gorgeous as her runway-model looks. I couldn’t help thinking how well she would have fit in with screen-tested Factory starlets like “Baby Jane” Holzer and Ingrid Superstar.

Adding music to such an iconic project is a daunting and risky proposition, even for someone with as much cred as Wareham. But Dean & Britta’s pop and Andy Warhol’s art melded to make a most beautiful evening, indeed.

Also at The Other Paper

A Very Rosie Christmas

2008-11-27T14:12:00.005-05:00

I'm a bit of a grinch about Christmas music before Thanksgiving. To me, it feels like the result of retailers forcing the holidays upon us earlier and earlier each year. So it ends up sounding more like a dentist's drill than wassailing.

But once Thanksgiving hits, I'm ready. Full steam ahead. Get out the egg nog and bring on the Christmas tunes. (Well, at least the good ones. I'm not a "Santa Baby" kind of guy.)

Rosie Thomas just released A Very Rosie Christmas, and I think it's going to become a holiday staple at my house. Thomas's sweet, lovely voice and overall gosh-darn-cute presence on record make her the perfect artist to release a Christmas album. Her version of hymns like "O Come O Come Emmanuel" and "Silent Night" are gorgeous, and her take on Joni Mitchell's "River" is surprisingly new and refreshing.

I'm can also be a humbug about new Christmas tunes, just because they never seem to measure up to the classics. But Rosie proves me wrong on her originals, especially "Why Can't It Be Christmastime All Year." I may even listen to it before Thanksgiving next year...

Local roundup

2008-11-26T09:35:00.006-05:00

Reviews of recent (and not so recent) Columbus albums:

The Lost Revival - Homemade Confetti
Let me first say that I'm way late on this one. The Lost Revival released its debut, Homemade Confetti, earlier this year, but it somehow passed me by. That band wasn’t hiding under a rock, either. The seven-piece multi-instrumentalists have become known for their intense live shows, earning them a spot opening CD101’s Summerfest this year.

Homemade Confetti, which was apparently recorded in one weekend, doesn’t sound the least bit like a rush job. It’s a big record, with lots of atmospheric layering in the background, providing a thick blanket in which to wrap Kevin Collins’s throaty vocals--like a less lackadaisical, sea-urchin-swallowing version of the Black Swans’ Jerry DeCicca.

Collins must be a Bob Dylan devotee, given some of his phrasing, harmonica style and religious imagery. (Not to mention the intro guitar riff to “Jailbait” sounds just like “Hurricane,” and “Thin Man’s Mile” is probably not a coincidental allusion to “Ballad of a Thin Man.”) But with all those instruments and dark overtones, any sort of “Americana” tag would be misleading--especially on a song like “A Bird on a Chain,” the best on the album. The Lost Revival has a sound entirely its known, and a good one.

Karate Coyote - Move EP
Just the name Karate Coyote exudes playfulness, so it’s no surprise this up-and-coming band’s debut EP, Move, is filled with hand claps and a friskiness that brings to similar-minded acts like Los Campesinos!.

Playful is cool with me, especially when it’s done this well. “Move yourself to dance,” instructs Karate Coyote on the bouncy leadoff track, “Move Yourself,” and if no one’s looking, you’ll no doubt find yourself heeding the advice. Surprises abound on this little EP, like the bluesy guitar solo on “Easy” and the synth outro on “Incogneat-o.”

KC is a new band, so there’s room to grow, of course. I could use more of the back-and-forth guy-girl vocals, and I think the singers in general are buried too deep too often on these tracks. They’re good enough to be front and center--a position Karate Coyote should get used to if it continues down its current path.

mp3: Karate Coyote - Move Yourself

Melty Melty - Rise of the Birdmen
A few weeks ago I told you about the whole debacle Melty Melty went through while recording Rise of the Birdmen, i.e. losing the entire album to a computer crash and having to start from scratch. It makes for a good story, but good stories only matter if the record follows suit. This one is so good you won’t really care how it came to fruition.

Like Sean Gardner’s other projects (Bookmobile, Winter Makes Sailors), Melty Melty continues his pattern of making highly accessible but no less artful indie rock, this time with an unmistakable deference to Pinback--a comparison I wouldn’t make lightly.

Rise of the Birdmen is polished and spacious. “Walls” is built around a simple, repeating guitar bend, and “Killing Time” is Melty Melty at its dreamiest, Gardner and former Kopaz compadre Kevin Davison making tasteful use of analog synths, eerie guitar and found sounds. “Same Situation” would be the obvious first single, if singles still mattered. Gardner’s instantly recognizable tenor has a tendency to wander too far into whiny land, but it usually anchors the songs nicely; his inventive vocal melodies provide the majority of the album’s hooks.

Nothing against the band’s label, We Want Action, but Melty Melty deserves something bigger, and with this debut, the band just might get it.

This week's Other Paper

2008-11-21T11:38:00.004-05:00

In this week's paper, you can check out my review of the seven-year anniversary concert at Skully's featuring seven local bands: the Whiles, Two Cow Garage, Deathly Fighter, Good Company, Bush League All-Stars, Psychedelic Horseshit and Unholy Two.

I also wrote a feature about all the behind-the-scenes turmoil accompanying this year's Hate Michigan Rally with the very much alive Dead Schembechlers, Watershed, and, oddly, the All American Rejects. For some reason that one isn't online yet, but I'll put a link up when it (hopefully) goes live. UPDATE: Here we go.

Oh, and preview blurbs for Marnie Stern and AC/DC, also not online. Yay web presence!

Blitzen Trapper, Horse Feathers - Skully's

2008-11-12T09:13:00.003-05:00

Blitzen Trapper is on track to become The Next Big Thing. Not a here-today-gone-tomorrow buzz band (remember Black Kids?)--a mainstay.

Here’s proof. First, the Portland band released Wild Mountain Nation last year to moderate acclaim. It’s a good record, if a bit uneven, with a hefty dose of messy slacker rock amid crispy bits of countrified rock. It was Blitzen Trapper’s most widely heard album yet, leading to a deal with Sub Pop and this year’s Furr. Furr is a terrific album of Dylan-inspired tunes that find the band maturing without growing dull--a tough feat. Expect to hear more about this record as the audience grows.

And so all that’s left to solidify Blitzen Trapper as a force to be reckoned with is its live show, and the six-piece proved Tuesday night at Skully’s that it’s more than capable of winning hearts and minds from the stage.

In the big scheme of things, bandleader Eric Earley’s chiseled good looks probably won’t hurt Blitzen Trapper’s coming ascension, either. Earley is the band’s songwriter, usually writing songs on his own and recording/producing lots of them himself in the studio. But Blitzen Trapper doesn’t feel the least bit like a solo project. On stage the band is a tight, finely tuned machine, and each part is integral in making the gears turn.

There were only a few Pavement moments Tuesday night, “Love U” being one of them. Most other songs mixed the band’s fuzzy past with its furry present. “Gold for Bread” was one of the best examples of how well Blitzen Trapper mixes the old with the new, taking an energetic rocker and giving it an unmistakable Western vibe.

The full room responded most to “Furr,” the superbly written centerpiece of the band’s new album. The acoustic-based tune is a songwriting exemplar that uses Dylan as inspiration, yet still manages to feel original. The creative, more electric live arrangement brought spontaneous, simultaneous cheers from the crowd at certain points. (See? A finely crafted song can even get hipsters all worked up.)

There’s no reason for the band to ditch older songs like “Country Caravan” or “Wild Mountain Nation,” either. It allows the Oregonians to unleash a more playful side. That side came out during the encore, especially on “Miss Spiritual Tramp” (“It was a drive-by/ Columbian necktie”) and a cover of Dolly Parton’s “The Last Thing on My Mind.”

Tour mate and fellow Portlander Horse Feathers, on the other hand, wasn’t playful in the least. The guitar-violin-cello trio played quiet, folky songs you’d expect to hear coming from inside the snowy, wintry barn on the cover of the band’s most recent record, House with No Home.

It was a strange juxtaposition to have a such a hushed, lulling band bathed in Skully’s pink lighting underneath a disco ball, but eventually everyone caught on to the vibe and quieted down, allowing singer Justin Ringle’s tenor to carry. Ringle’s voice is soothing, and he has a calm presence to match it. He also happens to look a lot like Ron Howard--the bearded, director version of Ron Howard, not Opie or Richie Cunningham.

The live performance offered more dynamic range than House with No Home, which suffers from a bit of sameness. But the strings provided plenty of interest Tuesday night, even when Ringle’s singing began to sound a bit repetitive.

“Working Poor” featured a violin riff that hung in the air long after it was gone. The violinist also played the saw for a tune called “Heathen’s Kiss.” Maybe it’s a gimmick, but I give extra points to any band that successfully employs a cutting tool in its songs.

mp3: Blitzen Trapper - Furr
mp3: Horse Feathers - Curs in the Weeds

Melty Melty

2008-11-10T10:08:00.004-05:00

For some reason the Other Paper never got the Melty Melty preview I wrote up on the website, so here it is, even though the release show was last weekend. Of all the local releases this year, Rise of the Birdmen is one I highly recommend picking up.

----

On Melty Melty’s debut album, Rise of the Birdmen, singer Sean Gardner sounds like a man who has come to grips with technology’s aggravating tendency to implode. “Machines can tumble on over, it doesn’t even matter to me/ Machines can burn out their motors, it doesn’t even matter to me,” he sings on “Same Situation,” the leadoff track.

Gardner learned to roll with the punches the hard way. He and bandmate Kevin Davison had just about finished recording the album with their engineer/drummer Mark Himmel (The Slide Machine) when Himmel’s hard drive crashed. They lost everything.

“It was awful,” Gardner said. “We looked at companies that could recover hard drives, and it was way too much money and they couldn’t guarantee it. We got programs to try, spent countless hours at the Mac store, but it was just a lost cause. And then we all invested in external hard drives.”

It took a couple of months to gear up and start over, and once they did, the record began to take on a whole new feel. The first time through the songs had a raw, home-recorded sound, but Rise of the Birdmen is “a lot more polished than we expected and a lot more produced,” Gardner said. “We love it. I’m really, really proud of it, but it’s definitely a lot different than the beginning.”

The real beginning of Melty Melty goes back even further, to the days when Gardner and Davison were in Kopaz, a Columbus band that garnered some major label attention and then promptly called it quits. So the two began focusing on the direction Kopaz had started to take--slower, spacey, poppy and simple, taking cues from Pinback and German duo Tarwater. (On Rise of the Birdmen, the Pinback influence is impossible to miss.)

At first the pair tried to tour on their own, looping live drums with Gardner behind the kit. “It was a really cool idea but it didn’t always work,” he says. “Every song kinda started out the same and it wasn’t as fun to perform. And sometimes you’d get a bad sound guy who didn’t know what we were trying to do.”

Eventually Himmel came on board and Melty Melty did some touring, but he has since been replaced by Brian Moore, drummer for Brainbow and formerly of Tiara. Bookmobile’s Antonio Garza occasionally fills in as well, and the plan for this Saturday’s record release show at Ruby Tuesday is to have all three drummers playing simultaneously at certain points. It’s super-trendy these days for indie-rock bands to have two drummers, Gardner says, but three? “We’re treading new ground,” he joked.

Like Gardner’s other projects--Bookmobile, Winter Makes Sailors--Melty Melty doesn’t shy away from a hook. But Gardner said the different bands occupy a different space in his head when it comes to songwriting. Slower songs tend to become Winter Makes Sailors tunes; catchy, fun songs usually go Melty Melty’s way, and when writing for Bookmobile, Gardner said there’s “beer in the air and jump-kicking, the fun rock and roll side.”

Oh, and then there’s the Kyle Sowashes, but Gardner admitted not much sweat goes into his role there. “All I have to do is write a sweet tambourine part.”

Chairlift w/ Moon High - Wexner Center, 11-3

2008-11-05T09:44:00.004-05:00

You gotta hand it to the folks at Apple. They’re pretty good at finding just the right songs to soundtrack all those boldly colored iPod TV ads. The most recent commercial for the Nano is no exception. While watching those new gadgets bleed their vivacious colors, you’ll hear Caroline Polachek of the band Chairlift singing about handstand attempts over the bounciest bass line allowed by law. The song is called “Bruises,“ and it’s playful, catchy, hummable, vaguely familiar--all the things Apple is going for in hopes that those Nanos will fly off the shelves, economic crisis be damned.

But Feist has no need to worry. She won’t be relinquishing the iPod-commercial crown to Chairlift anytime soon. For many, “1234” served as a jumping-off point for discovering other gems in the Feist catalog, but judging from Chairlift’s sparsely attended show at the Wexner Center’s Black Box on the Mershon stage, an exploration instigated by “Bruises” turns up a lot of filler from a band still searching for an identity.

That’s not to say that this Brooklyn three-piece doesn’t have some stuff worth hearing, namely the songs where Polachek showcases her tremendous pipes. “Make Your Mind Up” was the most impressive of Monday night’s very brief set, as Polachek’s soulfulness spilled over the levee, revealing a beautiful vocal tone and an uncommonly high range. The song made her slightly bothersome theatrical gestures (draping herself over the keyboard, etc.) seem more justified.

“Bruises” came off just as it should have, and the short-and-sweet “Evident Utensil” was nice and danceable, despite some rhymes that felt a little forced. But the rest of the set was spotty as Chairlift attempted U2 (“Deer Hunt”), French pop and some industrial-inspired stuff.

“Planet Health,” the closer, mentioned something about a food pyramid, puberty and saying no to drugs, with a chorus of, “I’m feeling great tonight.” It’s a snoozer till the the song’s resilient outro (“Stop, drop and roll”), but by that time it was a little late, and I was still befuddled about this planet Polachek was attempting to describe.

Until Chairlift learns to consistently harness Polachek’s voice, sharpen its focus stylistically and mature a bit lyrically, it’s probably not worth filling up that Nano with more than a couple Chairlift tracks.

Moon High, on the other hand, has created and fully embraced a unique identity. The local band’s ultra-mellow, organic folk--an odd contrast with Chairlift’s synth-heavy sounds--is unlike any other band in Columbus, and you’d have trouble finding an equivalent outside of Ohio, too. People like to lump Moon High in with freak-folk bands, and David Fowler and Ryan Wells may take some inspiration from that scene, but reducing the band to that label does it a disservice.

Fowler and Wells shared lead vocal duties and switched between various acoustic guitars, banjo and cello throughout the set, accompanied by flute and violin at times from the two female background singers. Moon High completes its aesthetic visually with a couple of large, foot-switchable, white globe lights that I find more warm and peaceful than gimmicky.

Just about all of the band’s songs have a mournful vibe, and that consistency does come with a small price. If you head to a Moon High show with some sleep debt, the tranquility of “Lying Here, Dying Here,” “Where You Go” and other songs can become a bit drowsy. But these guys aren’t trying to shake the rafters, so I have a feeling that if you kicked back and closed your eyes at a show, they might take it more as a compliment than an insult.

Battleground

2008-11-03T15:18:00.006-05:00

So there's this big election tomorrow, and apparently Ohio has some significance in it. Here's a few of my favorite recent and semi-recent Ohio songs that should sound a lot nicer than the talking heads tomorrow night, if you find yourself needing a break from the chatter. (And if you like the Low Anthem track, I highly recommend picking up a copy of their new one, Oh My God, Charlie Darwin.)

mp3: The Low Anthem - To Ohio
mp3: Damien Jurado - Ohio
mp3: Lambchop - Ohio
mp3: Sun Kil Moon - Carry Me Ohio

Wilco will love you, baby

2008-10-31T12:56:00.003-04:00

Last night self-referential rockers Wilco paid a visit to The Colbert Report, performing a new song, aptly titled "Wilco the Song." I love it. Playful and Summerteethy. Here's some video evidence.

This week's Other Paper

2008-10-30T14:03:00.007-04:00

I'm getting lazy, so I'll just refer you to TOP's site for stories with my byline this week:

Concerts
Live review of Magnetic Fields (above) at the Southern Theatre last Friday

Locals
Review of Times New Viking's just-released Stay Awake 7"

Review of Ugly Stick's Still Glistening, the band's first release in 14 years

Review of Team Smile and Nod's Look Both Ways Before You Die

Gentleman Auction House at The Futurist

2008-10-27T16:07:00.004-04:00

I'll continue my pimping of underrated St. Louis band Gentleman Auction House by referring you to The Futurist, where they're hosting live mp3s of a recent WOXY Lounge Act. All the songs are keepers.

Margot & the Nuclear So and So's - Skully's, 10-19

2008-10-22T10:19:00.003-04:00

At Sunday night’s Margot & the Nuclear So and So’s show--the band’s first in Columbus in quite a while--all the ingredients were there to make a memorable performance. The back of Skully’s was comfortably full with attentive attendees, the stage was set off nicely by an artful backdrop in the vein of Margot’s recent cover art, and all 10 players were audible in the near-perfect mix.

So my biggest complaint is that it didn’t last long enough. The band exited the stage after a strong 45-minute set. It wasn’t their fault, really. Skully’s had something else booked later that night. But it left me, and from what I could tell, most of the crowd, wanting more.

I imagine the band didn’t enjoy setting up for 10 people and then taking it all down 45 minutes later. But each musician played his or her role with aplomb. As I mentioned in last week’s preview, on record Margot has figured out how to avoid choking songs with overpowering arrangements--a common temptation for any band with more than five members. That strength carried over to the live show, as well, even with two extra people.

There was almost more of an emphasis on bandleader Richard Edwards’s words live. It wasn’t uncommon to have only two instruments playing at a time, or to see three tambourines and other hand percussion all going at once, which is comical, but also a good thing. You don’t need the brass on every song. (I’m still not sure what purpose the contraption with a big water bottle on top served, other than providing an elaborate stand for the attached triangles.)

Edwards had a serious disposition throughout the set, even when the violinist from Judgement Day (an opener I missed, along with David Vandervelde) was blowing bubbles in between maraca shakes. That could have been due to a cold, which made his voice a bit more nasally, but not detrimentally so.

Just as violinist/lap-steel player and hometown boy Erik Kang (Tiara, the Emerald Down) predicted last week, the band focused mostly on material from Animal!, Margot’s new album on Epic, as opposed to Not Animal, the other new album on Epic filled with songs of the record company’s choosing. The only two older songs of the night were “On a Freezing Chicago Street,” which had a beautiful, orchestral sound as Edwards conducted with his guitar, and “Skeleton Key,” one of my favorites from The Dust of Retreat. The strings were nice and pronounced on that one, too, but the slower, waltzy arrangement detracted from the propulsive feel the album version conveys.

“My Baby Shoots her Mouth Off” was chock-full of falsetto goodness, and I’m also partial to the back-and-forth vocals with keyboardist Emily Watson on “There’s Talk of Mine Shafts” and “Mariel’s Brazen Overture.” Other songs such as “O’ What a Nightmare!” and “A Children’s Crusade on Acid” showed how the band’s songwriting now focuses more on tunes with different movements that rely on a groove or feeling rather than traditional pop structures.

Animal! standout “As Tall as Cliffs” ended the abbreviated night on a loose, playful note, preceded by Edwards’s run-on send-off: “Sorry about the cold this is the last song hope you had fun bye.”

Oh, Margot. We hardly knew ye!

The Killers - "Human"

2008-10-21T13:37:00.003-04:00

I kept reading that the Killers had a new single out but never streamed it or watched the video or anything. Finally heard it on the radio today. Wow. It's beyond horrible. Apparently others have mentioned the atrocious lyrics, too, but seriously, "Are we human or are we dancer"?

The over-the-top video is just ipecac-flavored icing on the cake:

Margot & the Nuclear So and So's: A review/preview

2008-10-17T10:34:00.004-04:00

It’s not uncommon for a band making the leap from the indies to the majors to have some disagreements with its deep-pocketed but often creatively impaired new boss. What is uncommon is resolving those conflicts by releasing two different albums—one to appease the band, the other to appease the label.

But that’s the route Margot & the Nuclear So and So’s and their new label, Epic, decided to take. The Indianapolis eight-piece just released Animal! (the band’s preferred version) digitally and on vinyl, while Not Animal is available on CD, digital and vinyl. The two records have five songs in common, but according to Margot member and Columbus musician Erik Kang, Animal! feels a bit darker.

“It probably reflects the fact that we were cooped up in a studio in Chicago during the coldest months of the winter,” Kang said. “I think there’s some songs on (Not Animal) that are a little bit lighter. Some people may like it better because of that.”

Kang, an alumnus of cowtown bands Tiara, the Emerald Down and Alasdair, joined Margot in 2006—a few months after the release of the band’s debut, The Dust of Retreat—and now handles violin and lap-steel duties. He admits there was some uncomfortable wrangling over the new album(s).

“It’s a complicated situation when you present music that you spent two months working on night and day,” he said. “To present what we felt was the strongest record, to have that rejected, you can’t help but take that personally and be hurt and be upset by it. It was really important to us to have that record released.”

At the same time, though, Kang said the band recognizes the strengths of Not Animal. “These were not songs that we never wanted to see the light of day,” he said. “We were proud of all of them. It was just a matter of which songs flowed the right way.”

Still, Kang recommends purchasing Animal! to hear the album the way the band intended it to sound. “We picked the songs that flowed the best and made sense as an entity itself. Not Animal is more just a collection of songs. They don’t necessarily flow as a record,” he said.

Both new albums reveal a much different band than Dust of Retreat-era Margot, trading some of its slightly emo tendencies for more orchestral, layered, atmospheric chamber pop. The hooks aren’t as immediate, and some of Retreat’s childlike spark is gone, but the slow burn usually pays off.

Is Animal! vastly superior to Not Animal? Not really, but it would have been a shame to miss out on the former’s boozy, string-heavy “Mariel’s Brazen Overture” and “There’s Talk of Mine Shafts.” Both find singer Richard Edwards in a duet with keyboardist Emily Watkins, whose ethereal harmonies can be found all over the new songs.

In general, Margot has discovered how to be an eight-piece without always sounding like an eight-piece, forgoing the bombastic tendencies of large bands. Edwards’ voice is always up front in the mix, often with scant accompaniment.

“Having all the instruments isn’t a gimmick,” Kang said. “It just makes sense for the songs that we’re doing. We’re very cautious and sensitive to only having the parts that really matter for the song and not overcrowding it.”

On the current tour, which will make a stop in Columbus on Sunday for the first time since Kang joined the band, fans can probably expect to hear more from Animal! than Not Animal because that’s the record Margot wanted to put together, Kang said.

Plus, the band has been keeping tallies of which album is selling better, and overall, Animal! is winning.

“So we’re right,” Kang said, laughing.

Margot & the Nuclear So and So's will perform Sunday at Skully's, 1151 N. High St., along with Judgement Day and David Vandervelde. Doors open at 6 p.m.; all ages. 614-291-8856.

(Also at The Other Paper)

This excites me

2008-10-14T09:52:00.005-04:00

That's the cover of Ryan Adams's new Cardinology LP, out on collector's edition red vinyl at the end of the month. Here's the description from the store:

This first run of Cardinology will be pressed on translucent red vinyl. Leah Hayes gives an incredible aesthetic to the packaging art, as well as an included Lyrics/Comic Book. Her artwork will only be used in this first vinyl pressing. This release will also include a Bonus 7" and digital download code.

Pre-orders here.

Damien Jurado w/ Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson - Milo, 10-4

2008-10-09T08:46:00.003-04:00

Damien Jurado is a singer/songwriter whom I’d always resisted over the years until recently, because really, does the world need one more sensitive folkie with an acoustic guitar? And this is coming from someone who’s often a sucker for sensitive folkies with acoustic guitars.

But I’ve discovered that Jurado sets himself apart with his words, which was evident Saturday night at the Milo Arts show. While his guitar playing and voice aren’t poor by any means--he sounds a little like a mash-up of Josh Ritter and Mark Kozelek--they’re fairly unremarkable without those profound, literate lyrics that often turn the lens outward instead of inward.

For a guy whose biggest strength is stories, the songs usually work best when pared down, so as not to distract from the words coming through. A few of the tracks on Jurado’s new album, Caught in the Trees, suffer from overdone production and a lack of intimacy (unlike 2006’s spare And Now That I’m in Your Shadow), but Milo’s spartan stage setup served the songs well, as did the respectful crowd. Jurado stayed mostly seated with his guitar while his two bandmates added percussion, keys and guitar flourishes. Jenna Conrad’s vocal harmonies were a highlight throughout the night.

Jurado is a somber-looking fellow and a little schlubby (losing the crustache would do wonders), but he’s got a dry, self-deprecating sense of humor that I appreciated. He apologized for not coming to Ohio in a while and appealed to the crowd by playing “Ohio,” a song he said he wrote on a codeine high from a toe operation. Jurado asked the crowd to lobby their politicians to make it the state song, “So I can be really rich.”

Not likely. “Ohio” is about a girl who’s taken away from her mother by bounty hunters. That’s his specialty, really. Jurado writes consistently depressing songs. You’d probably get into quite a funk if you listened to Jurado all day, but not many songwriters can do depressing better than he, so stick with what works, right?

Jurado seems to be very aware of this. “This is an upbeat number,” he announced before playing the sprightly “Gillian was a Horse,” but quickly added, “Not lyrically. Just the music.” And “Coats of Ice,” which reminded me a lot of an Aimee Mann song, showed that all the sullenness is starting to catch up with him. “How does it feel to be what you sing about?” he sang, adding in the chorus, “You look like you could use a rest/ You look like you’d be better dead.”

But on one of the night’s final songs, “Best Dress,” he offered a possible remedy for the malaise. “Hey now, put your best dress on. . . We should just have a good time.” A good time, indeed.

I was sorely disappointed by Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson’s opening set, especially because I’ve been enjoying his self-titled debut, an album of bedraggled, folk-inspired songs that come across as both dark and rambunctious. But I can’t remember the last time I’ve heard an artist sound so utterly different, and worse, than on record.

For one, the mix was bad, but I don’t think a better one would have saved him. Robinson attempted a vocal tremolo that vacillated between loud, thin yelps and almost inaudible marbles-in-the-mouth mumbling. All the songs’ hooks and clever turns of phrase were lost, and his bandmates looked alternately embarrassed and confused as to what the four-named man was up to.

I think Robinson was going for a Pavement feel, or something like that. Whatever the reason, the young man needs some more touring underneath his belt.

mp3: Damien Jurado - Ohio

(Also at The Other Paper)

My Morning Jacket - LC Pavilion, 10-6

2008-10-08T09:10:00.003-04:00

For the first five or six years of My Morning Jacket’s existence, the band was on the low diving board, bobbing up and down to prime the board and giving consistently good--sometimes great--performances. But in the last few years, Jim James has taken his band up to the platform high above the pool with even more success, plunging My Morning Jacket into the hard-to-reach category of an “important” rock band.

The old My Morning Jacket built its sound on Southern rock archetypes, importing Neil Young and Lynyrd Skynyrd into a new indie Americana led by James’s trusty abandoned-grain-silo tenor. (And that ample use of reverb has inspired countless copycats in recent years, from Band of Horses to Fleet Foxes.)

But starting in 2005 with the release of Z, MMJ went out of its Kentucky comfort zone, opening the album with a bubbly bass line and adding some psychedelic art-rock into its pop songs, while still remaining accessible. This year’s Evil Urges stretches the band even further, at times conjuring the Flaming Lips and Prince but still not forgetting its roots.

Monday night’s concert at the LC Pavilion--billed as “An Evening with My Morning Jacket”--drew heavily from those last two albums, along with some choice morsels from the past. What astounded me most as I watched James twirling across the stage, his curly mop flopping around him, was how well MMJ has merged their two identities into one conjoined, unstoppable rock beast.

October 6 seemed a little late to have an outdoor show at the LC, but the crisp, chilly air ended up creating a nice autumnal atmosphere. Right from opening number “Evil Urges,” the band appeared to be enjoying themselves quite a bit, as well. Throughout the night James used a litany of quirky, complimentary adjectives to describe Columbus and the crowd: powerful, elegant, beautiful, fragrant, faithful and “luxurious, like finely conditioned hair just out of the shower.”

The set list was one that made me realize just how many great songs this band has, from “Gideon” and “Lay Low” off Z to “Mahgeetah” and “Golden” from It Still Moves, plus a lot of solid new ones like “I’m Amazed” and “Librarian.” Even “Highly Suspicious,” which I viewed as sort of a failed experiment on Evil Urges, was an unexpected surprise, with James channeling his inner Prince for a funky, falsetto bookend to “Wordless Chorus”--one of several tunes that found the bearded singer sporting a cape. (I know, I know. Sounds stupid, right? I’m not sure how he made a cape cool, either.)

Lots of these songs opened up and provided space for the band to jam, which is often a dose of Ambien for me. But these guys could give workshops on how to jam successfully, a workshop many bands need (cough, Black Crowes, cough cough). “Dondante” was the only song that lost a little of its energy in the instrumental section. Others, like “Off the Record,” featured an extended ending with spicy guitar that only enhanced the song’s feeling.

But “One Big Holiday,” the “Free Bird” for the new millennium, was the Flying V guitar song the whole crowd was waiting for, and MMJ didn’t disappoint in the encore. Even though the band probably doesn’t let a show go by without playing the song, they performed it like it was the inaugural night--just another reason an evening with My Morning Jacket is an evening well spent.

The Avett Brothers - Murder in the City

2008-10-03T13:52:00.002-04:00

There hasn't been much buzz around the Avett Brothers' The Second Gleam, but I like this EP, especially the bare-bones "Murder in the City." Here's the bare-bones video to go along with it: