Gentleman Auction House - Alphabet Graveyard

Gentleman Auction House's debut full-length Alphabet Graveyard came out yesterday on Emergency Umbrella Records, and it would be tragic if an album this good flew under the radar. So go grab it at Emusic, Amazon, iTunes or your bricks-and-mortar record store of choice.

In my live review of the band's show at the High Five last month, I said they were "best described as indie pop, but with an insatiable fire behind it. Think of the pop sensibilities of a less-precious Belle and Sebastian, the bombast of Arcade Fire and the eccentricities of Danielson all rolled into one." I think that pretty much holds true for the album, too.

And mark you calendars to catch the band the second time around at the High Five Sept. 25 with Yea Big + Kid Static, Bookmobile and Wing & Tusk.

mp3: Gentleman Auction House - ABCDEFGraveyard

Tim Easton - Rumba Cafe

Even though Tim Easton is an Akron native now living in Joshua Tree, California, it always feels like a homecoming when he comes back to Columbus, as he did for a show at the Rumba Cafe Saturday. And judging from the bursting-at-the-seams crowd, Columbus, in turn, still embraces Easton like a native son.

The man has certainly spent plenty of time here, dating all the way back to his days at Ohio State playing with Kosher Spears, then later during his stint fronting edgy, alt-country favorites the Haynes Boys, whose 1996 album Guardian Angel continues to feed crops of roots rockers.

Easton kicked off the night with just his acoustic and a harmonica, playing a couple of new songs from a home-recorded bootleg called Highway 62 Love Songs, which he had on hand. Before a drummer joined him onstage, he also played “Next to You,” a soft ballad from 2006’s Ammunition. It’s a song that shows Easton’s super-sensitive, gushy side that has surfaced more often in recent years. The tune even inspired a young couple in front to slow dance in front of the stage. You could almost hear them whispering, “This is our song!” into each other’s ears.

Needless to say, I prefer his grittier material, and he more than obliged as his ladyfriend drummer from Bucyrus pounded the skins the rest of the night. It was a new, unpracticed and probably temporary incarnation, but even with the dropped beats now and then, she gave songs like “Black Dog” some teeth and a fresh, forceful pulse to go along with Easton’s pleasantly croaky vocals.

He played a packed concert for a packed house, with two sets split by a break long enough to span just about all of Wilco’s Summerteeth over the PA, and both sets showcased Easton’s ability to appeal to just about everyone while still retaining every bit of his artistic integrity. He can go seamlessly from honky-tonk to blues, folk-rock to fiery roots rock. You could see it in the makeup of the crowd, too: old, young and in-between, equal parts hipsters, bumpkins, suburbanites and rockers. In fact, the most passionate front-row fan was a dude who looked just like the singer from Disturbed, faithfully hoisting the rawk hand multiple times during every song.

The Rumba crowd was also treated to an impromptu reuniting of old Haynes Boys drummer Jovan Karcic for a rendition of “The New Franklin County Woman.” Of all the songs off Guardian Angel, the tune has a punk ethos that shows Karcic’s overlap with former Columbus pop-punkers Gaunt wasn’t that big of a leap after all.

Easton took some requests during the second set, and they ended up spanning his career. Highlights included “Rewind,” a song off 1998’s Special 20 that Easton said he wrote on High Street at 3 am, along with “Poor, Poor LA” off Break Your Mother’s Heart, showcasing his knack for turning a memorable phrase (“You don’t have to break your mama’s heart to change the world”).

But of all the songs, there was probably one that carried the most significance for Easton’s one-night stand in Columbus: “Just Like Home.”

mp3: Tim Easton - Stones Throw Away (previously unreleased, off Highway 62 Love Songs)

Highway 62 Love Songs

I caught Tim Easton's show at Rumba Cafe Saturday night. He didn't disappoint. A full review will be coming shortly.

He also was selling a new "dirty boot bootleg" CD, complete with stapled construction-paper sleeve, titled "Highway 62 Love Songs." I put on the disc today, and it's anything but dirty--14 tracks of intimate, nicely recorded Easton songs, most of which are new. In the words of a McDonald's ad campaign, I'm lovin' it.

A couple tracks for your enjoyment:

mp3: Tim Easton - Two of Us
mp3: Tim Easton - Beat the Band

Alina Simone - Everyone is Crying Out to Me, Beware

It seems like an odd choice for an artist to release a sophomore album of cover material, especially someone looking to build on some debut-album buzz. But that’s what Alina Simone decided to do with her new one, Everyone is Crying Out to Me, Beware, a nine-song record of songs by Soviet-era songwriter Yanka Dyagileva.

For Simone, though, it’s not too much of a stretch. She was born in the Ukraine, then spent most of her youth in Massachusetts, graduating from art school in Boston before heading to Austin where she spent some time busking. She eventually graduated to clubs and bars in New York, releasing her debut album, Placelessness, last year. Her summer tour will bring her to Columbus Wednesday for a free show at Surly Girl with the Black Swans’ Jerry DeCicca.

Simone has also spent a lot of time in Siberia, where she first became acquainted with the music of Dyagileva, a folk singer with punk leanings (drawn from peer Egor Letov) who reached cult status in Russia only after her supposed suicide in 1991 at the age of 24. (Think Americans’ fascination with similarly tortured soul Nick Drake, but probably on a larger scale.)

Last year, the Durham Arts Council in North Carolina awarded Simone a grant to record some of Dyagileva’s tunes. Because of Simone’s history, Placelessness had a vaguely Russian feel, but this is taken to the obvious extreme on Beware, as everything is sung entirely in Russian. There’s also a spontaneous, somewhat lo-fi vibe on the album as Simone and her producer attempted to capture a feeling similar to Dyagileva’s original tapes.

Out of mental laziness and a previous unfamiliarity with Dyagileva, I admit I wasn’t initially excited about listening repeatedly to a Russian album. But to my surprise, I’ve begun enjoying Beware more than Placelessness, which probably caters more to fans of PJ Harvey and Bjork while this record eschews vocal histrionics for a more restrained but no less aroused approach.

The ramshackle nylon-stringed acoustic and occasional electric guitars, plus simple, organic-sounding horn and string arrangements, add a brooding backdrop to Simone’s renderings. Unless you speak Russian, chances are you’ll be clueless as to what she’s saying, but that shouldn’t stop you from understanding what she’s talking about. The glowering songs aptly convey Dyagileva’s restlessness and anger.

On “From Great Knowledge,“ Simone significantly slows the tempo from Dyagileva’s original to give full weight to the dark, desperate lyrics (translated): “From great knowledge comes only sorrow/ From a reckless mind, only ditches and moats/ From a beautiful soul, only scabs and lice/ From universal love, only mugs in blood.” A moaning cello adds gravity to the matter.

Perhaps the best description of these songs is the title of third track, “My Sadness is Luminous.” Simone’s reworking of the tunes communicates a distinct despair, but she also successfully seizes the palpable glow of Dyagileva’s music that still attracts followers like moths to lamplight.

mp3: Alina Simone - Beware

Titles - Bernie's, 7/13

The Titles show at Bernie’s on Sunday night was really disappointing, but that had nothing to do with Titles. The New Haven, Connecticut band played a great set--at least from the four songs I caught. The evening was a disjointed affair, and for some reason Titles got stuck playing the first slot.

Singer/guitarist Brad Amorosino was a good sport about it, and he led the band barefoot through a mix of diverse but accessible indie-pop songs with scraped vocals. Of the ones I caught, the tunes had some jazzy beats and country influences--especially “No Love,” a super-catchy song with some really nice pedal steel that can be found on the band’s impressive new album, Up With the Sun, on Safety Meeting Records (mp3s below).

Lead guitarist Matt Wilson, a more recent addition to the band, was a pleasure to watch and led the band through some tight jams in a style that reminded me of Nels Cline’s Sky Blue Sky Wilco contributions. It all ended too soon. Hopefully Titles will come back through Columbus on the next jaunt.

E for Explosion came up next, a late addition to the bill that really should have been relegated to the opening slot. The project is fronted by Jamison Covington of disbanded emo rockers JamisonParker. Explosion’s overdone songs were filled with big, empty choruses that would be the perfect soundtrack to the latest poorly written teen movie. One such example of a lyric repeated ad nauseum: “When you’re close to me, I’m in heaven.” I think the band is aiming for Taking Back Sunday meets Angels & Airwaves, or something like that.

Unfortunately for the band (but fortunately for me), the worthless sound man left during their set while the PA made a horrible, loud buzzing sound, so the bassist threw a hissy fit and they stopped after three songs. I overheard the drummer telling a fan, “We were about to play this beautiful song, and the PA was just going eeeeehhhhhh.” Who knows, maybe they were, but from what I heard, E for Explosion has a long way to go before they fall into the “beautiful” category.

Taking the stage next was local act TV Eye, a baby-faced trio (plus an inconsequential and slightly annoying tambourine player) led by the the singer/guitarist’s slurry garage-rock vocals and dirty, blues-based Telecaster riffs--heavy on the treble. The throwback songs were perfectly serviceable, but didn’t bowl me over.

At the end of the set, the drummer threw one of his sticks and said, “We used to play here a lot. It sucks now.” It seemed to be a sentiment shared by most of the musicians that night.

Winter Makes Sailors, a solo project from Columbusite Sean Gardener (The Kyle Sowashes, Melty Melty), closed the night. Accompanying Gardener was a group of musicians he said he’d never played with before, including a drummer, a guy playing atmospheric slide stuff and violin, another guy switching between keys, synth and trumpet (maybe vibraphone?) and a guest acoustic bassist.

Gardener was self-deprecating from the get-go, and it’s true his band was obviously unrehearsed. And the slide guy was way too loud. But the simple folk songs were nice, with creative arrangements, if a little rough around the edges. I also liked having the stage lit only by a single lamp.

Winter Makes Sailors and fellow locals Moon High would be a good fit for another show. But after this night, I’d relocate to somewhere other than Bernie’s.

mp3: Titles - No Love
mp3: Titles - Bloody Nose

Noel Sayre

I've been wanting to post something about Noel Sayre, violinst for the Black Swans, ever since hearing about his accidental death at a pool last week. The guy was only 37, and he was immensely talented. I wrote a short story about it for today's Other Paper, but it's more news-oriented and doesn't really seem like a fitting eulogy to post.

So, even though it's been posted elsewhere, I'm just going to post part of Black Swans singer/guitarist Jerry DeCicca's message he sent out last week. Jerry has a way with words and seems to have known Noel the best, so it's probably best to let his sentiments stand on their own:

Noel and I began playing music together on New Years Eve of 1995, opening a show for the Yips and the Bassholes at Bernies Bagels in Columbus, Ohio. We split $100 for that gig, and so began a partnership that quickly became a strong and lasting friendship that the Black Swans based themselves upon.

We were always more Heckle & Jeckle and Penn & Teller than Simon & Garfunkel, as we shared an idea about music as art, posing as entertainment, that we explored over hundreds of gigs and several recordings. Musically, I always stood in Noel's shadow and Noel always felt he was my shadow. We spoke in code, a short-hand, that sometimes alienated others and sometimes amused them. We were kindred spirits in many way and couldn't be more different in others. He was quiet and articulate, rowdy and beyond shy, hyper intelligent and incredibly dense. I think I knew him better than anyone and it is safe to say there was a lot I never saw. It is shocking to think he will no longer be a part of my physical life. We both imagined that we'd be standing on stage together when we were 80, an appropriate age for our favorite tempo.

...Too, I'm happy to say he already recorded his parts for the next Black Swans album and, as always, played with intelligence, humor, and a transcendent pallet of emotions.

Noel taught me a lot about myself. As we played witness to one another, we stuck to our guns, charting each others growth as a person and a musician. We went through a lot together, good and bad, always expressing ourselves in different ways, but never an unkind word was exchanged, always caring and supportive. I can't imagine my life or music without him.

Comfest recap

To completely contradict a column that ran in The Other Paper last week, I love Comfest, and this year didn’t disappoint. Yeah, it smelled like patchouli and it rained and it was muddy and the Libertarians are yet again trying to get a candidate on the ballot. But it also smelled like awesome fair food, the kids and hippies loved the mud and the rain didn’t stop some great bands from performing.

So here are my bests and worsts from the weekend organized into random categories. And let it be said that the good definitely outweighed the bad.

Best performance:
Miranda Sound’s unbridled final Comfest performance was top notch, but Brainbow’s epic, hypnotic set of instrumental rock just edged it out. The strings, sax and horns were a nice addition, and each song was completely cathartic, building tension and releasing it at all the right moments.

Best dancer:
Some hippie chick in a drum circle Friday night who made Shakira look like an amateur.

Worst dancer:
Some shirtless raver dude who decided to jump in the drum circle when the hippie chick left. Raving doesn’t work in a drum circle.

Best food:
Bahama Mama. Fish boats are overrated.

Best backing vocalists:
At the end of Two Cow Garage’s killer set of cow-punk, at least 20 guys came onstage to form a “dude choir” for an extended version of the David Bowie/Mott the Hoople song “All the Young Dudes.”

Worst moment of the weekend:
After a big Labatt Blue, I went to relieve myself in one of the oversized porta-potty structures equipped with a trough that can comfortably fit about three standing men side by side. I was on one side, someone else on the other, and then a self-professed “old man with a weak bladder” completed the trifecta in the middle. Alas, the old man didn’t quite make it in time, as my leg could attest.

Best T-shirt:
“My daddy is in a promising local band”--a tee for tots from Clintonville shop Red Rover.

Worst T-shirt:
“Keep Sublime Alive.” Bradley’s gone, man. He’s gone.

Most inaccurate sign:
Inside the booth for “One Hit Wunders: World’s Best One Hit Smoking System” was a small sign that read “For tobacco & herbal use only.” (One woman gave it a glowing endorsement, though, telling her friend, “That’s the best thing ever. It’s like a bowl, but you can smuggle it through airports and sh*t.”)

Biggest regrets:
Not seeing Moon High, Muscle Puzzle, Hugs & Kisses and Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments. Also, seeing part of Michelle Shocked’s set. Bleh.

Best kiddie pool:
The rainwater made a big, muddy lake next to the Bozo stage, and the kids loved it. I watched one little tike with his face painted dive headfirst repeatedly into the brown water. The face paint was gone in no time. Meanwhile, an old coot just stood in the middle of the knee-high water for hours with a big grin on his face--a couple of people even got their pictures taken with him.

Best stage:
Offramp