Captain Beefheart | ICT magazine

Posts Tagged ‘Captain Beefheart’

Captain Beefheart: R.I.P.

December 20th, 2010 | No Comments

A TRUE ORIGINAL SHUFFLES OFF

Don Van Vliet, better known to the world as Captain Beefheart, passed away last Friday, December 17, after a long battle with multiple sclerosis. He was 69 years old. An inspired madman, a true blues soul, a painter of some renown, a lyricist and singer like no other, the Captain was a true original in every sense. From collaborating with kindred spirits like Frank Zappa and Ry Cooder to launching the careers of countless musicians, he came at art with a pure heart and absolutely wide-open mind. While it had been many years since he was active in the music industry, preferring to live his life far from any spotlight, his influence remained vibrant and ever-present and will remain so long into the future. We mourn his passing and offer our condolences to his family and close friends.

For more videos of the Captain, check out our Saturday Eye Candy we ran for his 69th birthday this past January here.

Captain Beefheart dies aged 69

December 18th, 2010 | No Comments

American rocker and painter Don Van Vliet, who recorded under the moniker Captain Beefheart, has died at the age of 69. According to a representative for the Michael Werner Gallery in New York, the star passed away on 17th Dec 2010, reports Contactmusic. The exact cause of his death was unknown, although he had long [...]

Clutch: Unstoppable Watts

December 15th, 2010 | No Comments

By: Dennis Cook

Clutch

The past 20 years have produced no better rock band than Clutch. A bold, blunt statement but ‘bold’ and ‘blunt’ are two things Clutch excels at. Yes, there are a handful of great bands that reside in the same line, but in terms of rock’s key fundamentals – real craftsmanship, a rebellious undertow, a boogie addled soul, an unabashed willingness to speak truth to power, a love of volume and electricity – Clutch has it locked down and has continued to evolve in fascinating ways with every album and tour. The force and quality of what they do is a sound to crush the lazy and distracted with profound focus & broad dynamics. Heavy and subtle, complex and brute force, Clutch is simply mighty rock ‘n’ roll kung-fu.

The name of the band’s website kind of sums it up: www.pro-rock.com. They approach everything they do with a respect for the music and their fans that’s positively inspiring, which has garnered a deeply fierce core fan base since they hurled out of the gate in the early 1990s. One can hear their evolution very clearly in their recorded work, but the psychic pimp slap of what they do is felt most immediately in the live arena. Without flash pots or smoke, Clutch seizes a hall and grips it tightly for as long as they occupy the stage.

One can check out a pretty dandy approximation of the experience on the band’s new DVD Live at the 9:30 (released May 11 on the band’s own Weathermaker Music), which captures a performance at Washington, D.C.’s 9:30 Club, where Clutch played their entire 1995 self-titled album bookended by prime live staples. Neil Fallon (vocals, guitar), Dan Maines (bass), Tim Sult (guitar) and Jean-Paul Gaster (drums) simmer and grind in a really winning way throughout the concert, which is captured in an unobtrusive way that scoops up the energy and vibe of live Clutch without trying to turn these brainy blue-collar road warriors into video vixens. And the live disc is accompanied by the homegrown documentary Fortune Tellers Make A Killing Nowadays, which gathers insights from fans and band members as they snake around the States.

“It’s a rare and fortunate thing we have. A lot of things can go wrong, by one’s own doing or fate just deals a sour hand. But because we’re friends first and a band second that made it easy. No one was looking at the band as the stepping-stone to a band that might get them success or that kind of mindset,” says Neil Fallon. “With the best bands, the sum is always greater than the parts. If people aren’t focused on the same thing, it becomes apparent that it’s four musicians instead of a cohesive unit. I’m glad we never really had to talk about what kind of band we wanted to be. I’m sure that’s a pretty awkward conversation [laughs].”

The members of Clutch have been playing with each other since high school in different variations, “mostly bad hardcore bands,” according to JP Gaster. Unlike many bands pushing in on their 20th anniversary – August of 2011 – Clutch has seen no lineup change from the original quartet. Everyone is still on the same adventure, and that commitment shows in Clutch’s music and general demeanor.

“When we got together properly in 1993 it was a bit more focused, but even back then it was never the intention to make a career out of playing music. More than anything, we just enjoyed playing shows and making records, and we never thought what we would do would actually support ourselves, let alone families. And the music was never intended to do that from the beginning,” says Gaster. “Our favorite music was always the stuff you weren’t hearing on radio, the bands that weren’t popular. So, we never really tried to make a career out of it. It just happened very naturally.”

Clutch in concert

Actually, Clutch did it the old fashioned way with sweat and muscle on the road and an almost vulgar commitment to serving their vision in the studio. Add in a great deal of respect for their listeners and you’ve got the prime ingredients for sustainable longevity.

“We get out and we play 100-percent. We play the hardest we can, and it doesn’t matter what the size of the venue. We could be playing in front of a 100 people or we could be in front of 25,000 and the intention is the same. We’re there to play as best we can and as hard as we can,” says Gaster. “We always make an effort to keep things as fresh as possible. The good thing about being in this band is there’s a lot of points in the set to do different things and stretch. We can do the blues or funk or a dub thing, and all these things are very much in the moment. We’re not just going through the motions. We’re really playing and trying to make a good concert for everybody. Something that simple is refreshing to people. There’s not a lot of bands that just get up there and play balls-out rock ‘n’ roll.”

In Clutch’s music one hears the swirl of rusty string blues, true psychedelic fervor and 60s modal jazz sparring with the sharp, true edge of musician-wise punk rock like Bad Brains and Fugazi and the sweeping, massive whomp of Black Sabbath and other pioneering hard rockers. Rather than simplify, Clutch complicates beautifully.

“These days, a kid says he wants to be in a metal band, his perspective on metal is what happened in the last three years,” says Gaster. “There’s no really going back and seeing where this music came from, its history, and there’s not a lot of experimentation. A lot of people just don’t have the time or energy to go back and study those kick ass old records.”

Live, Clutch is like one powerful, flexed muscle onstage, the strength of what they do coming from a collective place. This vibe comes through in their studio work, too, but in concert with the amps up high and the music unfolding right in front of you it’s impossible to miss.

Clutch

“As far as studio and live, I’ve come to the conclusion that albums, even vinyl records, are a new invention. It’s a very new phenomenon to have recorded music. Live performance goes back tens of thousands of years, and there’s a deep psychological need or ritual that we can only get live,” says Fallon. “Maybe it’s because it’s a very fleeting, temporal thing that will only happen in that manner that one time, whereas recordings are just dead. They’re just artifacts. As much as I love records, ultimately there’s only so much information in them.”

Clutch taps into the primal, communal urge to gather around a fire and beat sticks against the earth and dance and scream at the heavens.

“Live music is pretty primitive in some ways. You can go anywhere in the world – Australia, Berlin or right here in Rock Island, Illinois – and when the lights go down and the music goes up, it’s virtually identical. Geographic distance disappears. It’s a shared language in a lot of ways,” says Fallon. “Lately, I’ve heard bands bemoaning the fact that they have to go out and tour and work to make money. Straight up, fuck you! Frankly, it pisses me off. To act like you’re doing someone a favor by playing music or it’s your cross to bear is so ridiculous. What would you rather be doing? If you have an opportunity to make a living playing music that’s the golden ring. That’s all you can really hope for.”

However, being a hard touring band isn’t without its downsides.

“It’s real easy to focus on the one kid giving you the finger or screaming, ‘You suck!’ It suddenly washes out the other thousand people that are bobbing their heads. So, I always try to keep in mind that often when people watch someone onstage they feel like they’re watching TV. It is annoying but you can’t always preach to your choir,” says Fallon. “[The live experience] is definitely mutual and reciprocal; it goes back and forth. There’s definitely a camaraderie amongst Clutch fans you won’t get at a stadium band. I’m not saying I don’t want more people to come our shows but I also love that people aren’t coming to see us for shits ‘n’ giggles.”

Back To The 9:30

Live at the 9:30 works as a fine primer in the Clutch live experience, where the band has operated in a pretty fearless manner throughout their career, embracing the moment and not worrying too much about perfection or polish.

“It took us a long time to warm up to cameras. It immediately made us self-conscious about what we were doing. The best shows are when you forget that you’re playing and the music flows right through you. But Agent Ogden, who directed [Live at the 9:30], had a really good gauge of our personalities and didn’t try to be too oppressive,” says Fallon. “That particular show, where we do our self-titled record from beginning to end, we rehearsed once the night before in Boston. When we realized we had a decent take, we never did it again, probably because it was too much like work trying to reproduce parts instead of the open book a jam lends itself to.”

On revisiting the self-titled record, Gaster says, “It was a lot of years since we’d revisited a lot of that material – ‘Droid,’ ’7 Jam’ and even ‘Rock N’ Roll Outlaws.’ It was interesting to listen back to a record I made 15 years ago and try to get myself back into that mindset and figure out where some of that stuff was coming from. It was definitely a fun exercise. I don’t think we played exactly like the record, and that’s probably for the best. In a lot of ways, I think we’re better players than back then, but those songs are still really fun to play, every one of them.”

self-titled album

“When we talked about [playing a whole record live] that was the only one we could think of doing where we wouldn’t feel upset about a song. When I listen to some of the records I can hear a thousand shoulda-coulda-wouldas,” says Fallon. “It was a really interesting exercise because I don’t normally listen to our records too much. I’m too busy looking forward. Listening to [the self-titled album] I was surprised by things, and of course, critical of others. I think we played it better live than we did in the studio. It was definitely like reading a high school diary entry [laughs]. What seemed so important and crucial then just makes you scratch your head now and think, ‘Dumbass!’ You get the luxury of hindsight. You cringe at some parts but hopefully that’s because you’ve grown.”

While the play-a-whole-album thing is becoming more commonplace on the concert circuit, it’s still a gift and thank you to longtime fans to breathe fresh air into a friendly old soul.

“We don’t take it for granted,” says Gaster with clear sincerity. “If there was one record we were going to play in its entirety, it’s this one. For us, we really found our sound on that album. For us, it was a breakthrough record and I think we made the songs in a way that we felt came together very naturally. It wasn’t about trying to pummel people with some sort of heavy vibe or doom people out. I think we really found our own voice on that recording.”

Anthrax, Ham Radio And Liquor

One area Clutch gets short changed is their lyrics, which are often bizarre, almost always opaque and rife with possible interpretations. They sometimes have the sharp tipped brevity of good punk or blues but also range into Captain Beefheart/Zappa territory. Politics are a definite subtext but I challenge anyone to pin down exactly what’s being shouted from the bully pulpit. More briefly, when Neil Fallon opens his mouth interesting shit tumbles out.

Abraham Lincoln

“Early on I related to a lot of hip-hop acts because I wasn’t concerned with singing. It was very rhythmical, and I loved people like Chuck D and Tom Waits for that matter,” says Fallon. “If you can tell a short story in the space of a song, it can last forever because when people listen to it they’re always going to put in their own two-cents and subjective opinions. I don’t ever have an answer to what a song is truly about. I just know it sounds like it is about something. I provide to enough specifics that people can sink their teeth into it, but not so specific that it’s a static thing.”

“Any song is a license to lie, as you would in a short story. No one can tell you that you can’t write about something,” continues Fallon. “When people see someone up onstage screaming, they tend to think they’re like that all day, but nothing could be further from the truth because I have the luxury of doing that for an hour and a half every day. Society accepts that kind of madness. I think it’s part of the reason people go to shows, to experience that luminism for 90 minutes. There’s an element of escapism to the lyrics but not in a way that ever tries to pass itself off as real.”

One reoccurring thread in the Clutch songbook is tunes related to Abraham Lincoln in some way.

“The initial interest started when we were doing our early shows at the 9:30 Club in [Washington], D.C. The club shares an alley with Ford’s Theatre. At one end of the alley is the bricked up window they say [John Wilkes] Booth jumped out of and broke his leg before getting on his horse and riding away. At the other end of the alley is the Hoover FBI Building. I used to sit back there and sneak beers and bug out on that,” says Fallon. “Then, oddly enough, when we went to do the ‘A Shogun Named Marcus’ video, it was on a farm in Maryland where they captured George Atzerodt, who was assigned to kill Lincoln’s Vice-President. They captured him in the house you can see in that video.”

“So, Lincoln was always popping up on the radar unintentionally,” continues Fallon. “Growing up in Washington, D.C., I’m kind of blind to the monuments, but as I got older and showed out-of-towners the sights I was struck by the Lincoln Memorial. It’s kind of wild. It’s a Greek temple to a god, and it’s not that long ago. In terms of history, 1864 is yesterday. America is a brightly burning star. I’m not an America basher, but being an American I feel obligated to be a critic – as I think any artist should be.”

Independence

Clutch

The longer Clutch goes on the more independent they become. The band has run their own label for a few years and has slowly been regaining their back catalog from its various label homes and reissuing the albums in great expanded editions that gather up b-sides, live cuts and more in thoughtful packaging. It is but one sign of many that there’s no one besides Clutch calling the shots for this band today.

“It really is very empowering. From the inception of the band, the labels were always kind of a headache for us,” says Gaster. “Whether we were on an independent or major label or one of those between labels, those people are in the business of making money off your records. That’s all well and good, and in the best situations, you can strike a balance but more likely than not it’s not gonna happen.”

“The most frustrating thing about the 90s for us was jumping from one major label to another. These people would see we’d sell 100,000 records and tour pretty relentlessly, but they never could put the equation together,” continues Gaster. “They’d look at us and the numbers and think, ‘We, being Superstar Records Number One, can make them a million seller.’ So, somebody would sign us to their label and inevitably within a few weeks of release they’d realize, ‘This is not easy music to work. There’s not much of a gimmick here and just look at these guys!’ And then we’d be back to square one again where the label wasn’t willing to do much of anything, be it getting records into stores or promote a bit more or even make another record. We’d go three years between records, which was very frustrating. In those days it seemed like people would actually fight you if you tried to do anything creative. Having Weathermaker, our own label, is fantastic. All those headaches are gone. We’re able to make the records we want to make, whenever we want to make ‘em. I think we’ve made more money off Weathermaker in two years than we’ve ever seen in our entire careers from royalties.”

Perhaps more than anything else, Clutch has maintained their musical curiosity despite wrestling with the industry for close to 20 years. One hears them stretch backwards and forwards in time to create a present sound that’s alive, searching and gutbucket real. They haven’t lost a driving desire to do something different with their instruments or with one another, and the music crackles with these intentions.

“We try to keep it fresh and as exciting as we can. I try to practice with my drums everyday and think about my drums everyday. I study as much as I can, and I try to listen to as much music as I can, and I know the other guys do too,” says Gaster, who embodies his band’s confidence in the face of the competition. “Oh, I’m not worried about other bands [laughs].”

Clutch Tour Dates :: Clutch News :: Clutch Concert Reviews

JamBase | Down A Gravel Road
Go See Live Music!

Las Tortugas V | Review | Pics

November 10th, 2010 | No Comments

Words by: Dennis Cook | Images by: Chad Smith

Las Tortugas – Dance of the Dead V :: 10.28.10-10.31.10 :: Evergreen Lodge :: Groveland, CA

Las Tortugas V by Chad Smith

We are pulled through this life by small miracles. One needn’t be religious or even spiritual to understand this. The muck of bosses, bills and bullshit we trudge through would be simply unbearable if not for the oases along our trek. For several years, a nigh-perfect music festival in the lush Yosemite woods has proven such a blessed respite for a growing tribe, and the fifth anniversary installment was far & away the finest outing yet, one of those small miracles that makes all the weary miles fade and invigorates us for the rocky road ahead.

Las Tortugas V, like previous outings, miniaturized and refined all the best aspects of a festival, throwing an incredible four-day party with an extraordinary soundtrack. While other fests may have bigger names and carnival rides, Tortugas focuses on serious musicians who overflow with passion and heartfelt artistry. This is a showcase for some of the best music coming out of California today paired with kindred spirits from around the country, a place where veterans embarking on a new thang (7 Walkers), utter pros seeking one of the most engaged, joyful audiences they’ve ever encountered (Yonder Mountain String Band), workingman’s lifers (The Mother Hips, ALO, Cornmeal) and crazy talented comers (Nicki Bluhm & The Gramblers, Antioquia, Big Light, Pimps of Joytime) mingle. A feeling of creative freedom and smiling connection with all the things that originally got these players into the music game floats in the air.

And this palpable, happy charge buzzes in equal amplitude from the attendees. Perhaps more than any other festival I’ve experienced, Tortugas creates a beautiful crucible that burns hot and bright because EVERYONE throws a pinch or two into the pot (Jam Cruise is the only thing that compares, though each gathering is singular & beautifully strange in its own way, and something any serious music geek should experience at least once, like Glastonbury, Bonnaroo and a handful of others). With most folks bringing different costumes every day and an all-in enthusiasm that hums loudly before the first set kicks off, Tortugans are a rare breed. The near total absence of thievery, sketchiness and rudeness common at most music fests immediately sets Tortugas apart in a big way. It’s not to say that everyone is cool but un-cool moments are quickly defused, and there’s so much obvious love and care bouncing around the tents and trees that even grumps inclined to kick up dust are charmed into grinning contentment. The depth of conversation and generally open-handed attitude that abounds at Tortugas is a glimpse of our better angels, the way the world might be if we shared our bounty and lived with less fear and worry.

If this seems like an overreach for a music festival it isn’t. Las Tortugas is a playground for music loving people with an amiable synergy that relaxes muscles, eases minds and lifts spirits. Scoff if you must – modern cynicism is hard to shake – but four years running I’ve witnessed this vibe grow & grow & grow, seeing it put the zap – in the best way – on the heads of first timers that leaves them pleasantly shaken by weekend’s end. It is why the vets scheme all year long on how we might delight others, tickling fancies and pricking up ears in any way we can dream up, and then sharing that dream with anyone willing to jump through the looking glass with us.

Nestled in one of the most unique, idyllic settings in the United States (Evergreen Lodge), Las Tortugas situates about a 1000 people in a world apart and lets them share in a fully communal shindig. Each year a couple tunes spring into my head during the course of my wooded walks, a few lines that repeat like mantras as I gather up as much Tortugas mojo as I can before heading homeward. This year it was these verses from Jackson Browne’s “Farther On” and the Grateful Dead’s “The Music Never Stopped.”

Las Tortugas V by Chad Smith

Adrift on an ocean of loneliness
My dreams like nets were thrown
To catch the love that I’d heard of
In books and films and songs
Now there’s a world of illusion and fantasy
In the place where the real world belongs
Still I look for the beauty in songs
To fill my head and lead me on

AndÂ…

There’s a band out on the highway.
They’re high-steppin’ into town.
They’re a rainbow full of sound.
It’s fireworks, calliopes and clowns

And everybody was dancing, drink hoisting blurs of color and laughter that convinced one that the world might not be so bloody awful after all.

What follows are some musical highlights, pointers towards sweet new bands, and a whole bunch of great pictures from Chad Smith, heavy on Tortugans and their mirthful ways. Even if every band isn’t mentioned it’s important to point out that EVERY band that graced a stage at Tortugas V was the real deal, dedicated craftsmen born to meld melody and verse. Where one might wonder at other fests why a band made the lineup, Tortugas only presents quality, ranging from the newly born to the well-seasoned. It’s a formula that’s generated a lot of connections between the bands, resulting in some of the finest sit-ins one can find in the festival world. The sense that we’re ALL in this together – both for this weekend and in a much larger sense – is inescapable on both sides of the stage at Tortugas.

Continue reading for Thursday highlights…

Thursday Highlights

See the full gallery for Thursday here

Theme: Gypsy Circus

Lebo by Chad Smith

1. Lebo :: 2:15-3:30 am. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage

With a shortened introductory day, it wasn’t hard to stay up for the first rousing late night set in what turned out to be Tortugas’ finest night owl programming to date. As usual, Thursday felt like a Saturday here, and ALO’s guitar shredder and a special rhythm section were the flaming cherry atop everything. Flowing loose ‘n’ heavy, Dan Lebowitz, playing a hollow-body electric instead of his usual axe, gave us a commanding showcase that reaffirmed his place amongst today’s very best guitarists. Backed by ALO bandmate Dave Brogan (drums) and Tracorum‘s jaw-dropping rhythm section, Ian Herman (drums) and Mark Calderon (bass), Lebo stirred up his own Band of Gypsys roar, jamming with impunity and instigating some of the fiercest rhythm work heard all fest. Lebo’s versatility as a singer also shown through, and the obvious camaraderie these guys displayed made for some of the least predictable, most immediate music I’ve heard from any of them.

2. Poor Man’s Whiskey :: 9:15-10:30 pm :: Terrapin Big Top Stage

PMW pulled off a real neat trick: Playing the iconic, deeply held music of Old & In The Way – an obvious root source for their music – while authoritatively putting their own stamp on the material. For one thing, bassist Aspen holds his own against John Kahn’s original bass work, and he’s got a whole new sonic range to explore with drummer George Smeltz, bringing a whole new beat to things. As great as the musicians were in Old & In The Way, they weren’t exactly forthcoming performers. By contrast, PMW boasts two natural born rock stars in multi-instrumentalist/singers Eli Jebidiah and Josh Brough, who have that thing that gets everyone in the room off. Ably goosed by guitar-mandolin whiz Jason Beard, the boys made the well-tread newly furrowed and showed once again that Poor Man’s Whiskey is one of the premiere country-rock outfits today, a wild bunch that could have handily shared bills with the Flying Burrito Brothers, Goose Creek Symphony and Garcia and his picking pals.

Allie Kral by Chad Smith

3. Cornmeal :: 11:45 pm-1:00 am.:: Terrapin Big Top Stage

I like when Chicago’s Cornmeal get weird and they certainly did on this inaugural eve. There’s no doubting their hard strummin’ might – bluegrass doesn’t get more blue or grassy – but like a lot of quality acts lumped into the string band basket, Cornmeal have a LOT more variety in their Crayon box, and they didn’t hesitate to color outside the lines at Tortugas. Especially impressive was their ability to move from incredibly melodic strains to downright psychedelic runs, each feeling a part of the other instead of bordered off segments. The many raised glasses and elevated bonhomie in the tent spoke to their pronounced ability to lift heels, and the whole lot of them is goddamn charming as hell. Extra gold stars for ever-compelling violinist Allie Kral, who seemed possessed in a lovely way at several junctures, and dead-on-it drummer JP Nowak. Also, I’m kind of in love with their easy flowing songwriting and the entire delivery and style of banjoist-singer Wavy Dave Burlingame after this set.

Ones To Watch

Jack Grace Band
Full of good time, bohemian energy of the sort Tom Waits left behind when he grabbed a bullhorn, Grace and his slinky compatriots are a bar band in the archetypal sense, specializing in Latin tinged, gold standard song craft instead of by-the-numbers boogie, but still perfect for tossing back a few. First band to play the Tuolumne Hall and one I came home anxious to explore further.

Dead Winter Carpenters
With members of Montana Slim, it’s no surprise these cats ‘n’ kittens twang a bit, but they do so very winningly, and while their set on Thursday was appropriately uptempo, their recent self-titled debut shows a knack for slower, more meditative fare. They’re still getting their feet fully under them but there’s already some very appealing things happening in this band.

Continue reading for Friday highlights…

Friday Highlights

See the full gallery for Friday here

Theme: Decade Dance (retro looks from TV, history, etc.)

ALO & Friends by Chad Smith

1. ALO :: 2:00-4:00 am. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage

What other band could meld Steely Dan’s “Reelin’ In The Years” with snippets of The Four Seasons’ “December 1963 (Oh, What A Night)” with the whole panoply of pop past & future sandwiched in between? Dressed in the outfits from the Man of the World photo/video shoot, ALO lived up to every part of their name at this dawn chasing performance. In fact, keyboardist-singer Zach Gill even got so in touch with his animal side that he started talking to the stuffed birds on the branches decorating the stage late in the set. When these boys are on – and believe you me, this was as ON as I’ve ever seen them – music feels alive and organic, something to be touched and tasted, savored and slathered all over. That its also incredibly tuneful and you can dance to it speaks to their great talent and dedication to making even outside-the-norm music conform to something more sophisticated and thoughtful. After spending the better part of the summer and fall opening up for pal Jack Johnson, ALO played like men balling without a condom for the first time in a LONG time – liberated beasts whose bite set a good many of us free, too.

2. New Monsoon :: 6:15-7:30 pm. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage

For a band that doesn’t play out that much anymore, New Monsoon commanded the stage like utter professionals. There’s so much damn talent in this quintet that it remains shocking to me that more people don’t know and adore them. But regardless of stardom, San Francisco’s New Monsoon demonstrated how adept they are at commingling styles and giving all of them rock ‘n’ roll oomph in this early evening set. Filled with rhythm and force, their mix of originals and tasty covers (and a whole lot more well-picked, well-executed covers on Saturday from ZZ Top and more) goes down so smoothly that the many hours of woodshedding and sweat that lay before each performance are invisible. What we got at both sets this Tortugas was a band fully in control of their instruments and material, able to knock it out with aplomb at a moment’s notice. Drinking in electric guitarist Jeff Miller – long a personal favorite – renewed my desire to see him form a Derek & The Dominoes tribute band since he’s one of the few axe slingers who could generate the same guitar magic as Clapton at his inarguable peak.

Pimps of Joytime by Chad Smith

3. Pimps of Joytime :: 8:45-10:00 pm. :: Terrapin Big Top Stage

Dressed as ragtag cowpokes, the Pimps offered a master class in funk and its roots, showing equal flair for gutbucket blues, silky soul and myriad other variations on what seem like overplayed, boring forms in lesser hands. This band knows groove, way down in their bones, and they move with harnessed power and abundant natural charisma. Every single time I see the Pimps I like them WAY better. Shooting straight, I haven’t been this wholly charmed by a band in the funk-rock vein since I first saw Prince back in the day. Only Seattle’s Staxx Brothers are competing in the same arena, and rather than play favorites, I’ll just say that anyone who likes to get more than knee-deep as they howl about atomic dogs and funky drummers should get familiar with both. Quickly.

4. Antioquia :: 10:15-11:45 pm. :: The Tavern

With the propulsive energy of Remain In Light Talking Heads and political dance-mindedness of The Clash, SF’s Antioquia turned heads in their Tortugas debut. Admittedly, it wasn’t just their reach-out-and-grab-ya sound alone that did the job. The band set a new fest record for the most exposed flesh by dressing as the cock-socked Red Hot Chili Peppers with lead singer Maddy Streicek dolled up like an actual chili pepper. In their veins flows the sticky stuff that agitated early Brian Eno, the initial wave of jazz-fusion cats, Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band and similar inspired wackos. In so many ways, this set showed that Antioquia is exposed, fearless and free of boundaries, and they’ve got the chops to back up the bravado with substance and style.

Continue reading for Saturday highlights…

Saturday Highlights

See the full gallery for Saturday here

Theme: Monsters vs. Aliens

1. 7 Walkers :: 4:00-7:15 am :: Terrapin Big Top Stage

Bill Kreutzmann by Chad Smith

Bill Kreutzmann returned to Tortugas with his new labor of love, 7 Walkers. Hitting the stage in the middle of the night and playing till well after sunrise, Billy, Papa Mali, George Porter, Jr. and Matt Hubbard took us into the thickest, headiest swampland, brimming over with bayou shuffles, primal rock, psychedelic sparks and other rich, earthy textures. The only break any of them had during this three-hour-plus journey – and if you took the whole trip you really felt like you’d conquered a major peak – was when Papa and Matt paired off for some harmonica pierced deep blues and tender balladry followed by a bass-drums conversation between Bill and George. Each is a marvel in their own right but the chemistry in 7 Walkers just bowled folks over during this set, where they offered almost all of their fabulous self-titled debut, Dead & New Orleans chestnuts and fat-free jams that pounced and tore at one like a hungry gator. 7 Walkers feels vibrantly alert, alive in all the ways that count, and this only seems like the beginning of more and better music to come. [The band killed it again on Sunday night, only 13 hours after this set, where they leaned more heavily on Dead tunes like "I Know You Rider" and a great "Sugaree" with George on lead vocals. What's so cool about this band is how the familiar numbers feel freshly washed and ready to be pushed into service in the way they handle them. The final encore of "Iko Iko" lit up the tent with a light that comes from within, steering our ragged conga line into folklore and festivity with sure hands and hearts.].

2. Guitarmageddon:: 3:00-4:15 pm :: Terrapin Big Top Stage

Under the new leadership of PMW’s Eli Jebidiah, this starts-over-the-top celebration of shred science topped themselves with this Prince themed set. Any serious fan of His Purple Mounted Majesty would have stumbled away grinning ear-to-ear after this display that launched with a sizzling reading of “Let’s Go Crazy” but then weaved into killer recent tunes (“Chelsea Rogers,” “Musicology,” “Guitar”), the infamous Black Album (“Rockhard in a Funky Place”) and the choicest medley ever (“Raspberry Beret > Kiss > Sexy MF > Little Red Corvette > 1999″). The core band consisted of Eli (guitar, vocals), absolutely stunning heavy hitter Daria Johnson (drums, vocals), bassist Mark Calderon (doing some primo tough-funk bass faces), Tracorum keyboardist Fletcher Nielsen (the “Doctor” suited up in scrubs!) and guitar marvel Sean Leahy, who also summoned up a host of voices to fill different Prince-ly holes. Guest six-stringers included former Guitarmageddon leader Josh Clark (TLG), NM’s Jeff Miller, Newfangled Wasteland’s Chris Haugen, Tracorum’s Louis XIV-attired Derek Brooker and Big Light’s Jeremy Korpas, with each cameo suiting the songs to a tee and showing off how much amp-rattling guitar talent resides in Northern California today. The material was well rehearsed but not so much so that flashes of inspiration didn’t prevail. The whole gliding, intoxicating set ended in Gold Experience standout “Endorphinmachine.” Let’s hope that tapers were active during this one because the Minneapolis faithful just gotta hear this performance. One of the absolute best times all weekend.

3. Nicki Bluhm & The Gramblers :: 4:15-5:15 pm :: Tuolumne Hall

Nicki Bluhm by Chad Smith

It’s a blast to watch an audience be warmed by Nicki and her gifted Gramblers. It starts slow, the potency of their songwriting and their leader’s obvious vocal pow scooping one up, pulling them in close, and whispering sweet, softly wise things in their ears. Once snuggled in, well, they’ve got you and good. Bluhm is a throwback to classics like Bonnie Raitt, Linda Ronstadt and other strong women who carved their place in the largely male rock game. She’s a far cry from the manufactured divas and half-talents that pass for “female artists” in the mainstream today, and it’s her abiding quality, natural gifts and good instincts for collaborators that are making her an artist to watch VERY closely. The new songs from her forthcoming sophomore album were uniformly excellent, and as ever guitarist Deren Ney is a haunting knockout, especially when he works a slide. Nicki Bluhm & The Gramblers are the full package, and they left Tortugas with a LOT of new fans this year.

4. Sean Leahy Trio :: 12:00-1:45 pm :: The Tavern

Leahy may be one of THE best guitar players you’ve never heard. His cult amongst Northern Cali musicians and serious music nuts is well established, but it probably wouldn’t have taken more than a single tune at this blazing trio set to win over almost anyone with a six-string boner. Lean, fast and highly interactive, Leahy’s trio consists of himself on electric guitar and lead vocals with Tortugas all-star Mark Calderon on bass (only ALO/Big Light bassist Steve Adams worked as many sets) and drummer Daria Johnson, equally fantabulous here as her Guitarmageddon stint earlier in the day. The gal is a real talent and a show unto herself – just watch her face if you want a whole movie to accompany the music. Blues, classic rock, fleet-fingered jazz and more were explored in this set, and all of it packed with thick, ropy muscle. When Leahy lets go and trusts in his abilities, as he did here, he’s positively superhuman and a joy to watch. Johnson and Calderon are perfect foils, and they even made time for a brief M80 Mailbox cameo, a Leahy project with Dave Brogan and Josh Clark, that included a bruising cover of Rage Against The Machine’s “Killing In The Name Of.”

Ones To Watch

Five Eyed Hand
The Tavern seemed wonderfully afloat when this SF unit unleashed their energetic, free flowing music on Saturday night. For sure there’s a foundation of rock ‘n’ roll but things sizzle and switch around with the technically possessed feel of Weather Report taken down to “Shakedown Street.” Mix in the phased dynamics of Bill Frisell, the swerving violin of Mahavishnu and more than a dollop of quality space rock and you’re getting closer to the ballpark. Five Eyed Hand showed being hard to place is a virtue, and jam kids looking to do some traveling between their ears should definitely investigate their self-titled album and fine live show.

Continue reading for Sunday highlights…

Sunday Highlights

See the full gallery for Sunday here

Theme: The Masquerade Ball – Halloween

1. The Mother Hips :: 5:30-7:00 pm.:: Terrapin Big Top Stage

The Mother Hips by Chad Smith

Having seen a ludicrous number of Hips shows (quickly approaching triple digits and spread over the group’s entire history), it’s heartening and more than a little shocking that these guys can still completely blow me away. That’s what happened at this late afternoon set that began with a surprising cover of “Long Black Veil” and seemed like it was going to be one of the band’s cozier, country-tinged daytime sets (“Whiskey On A Southbound,” “Later Days”). Then, they took a wide left turn with a stunning reading of “Young Charles Ives,” fired up the over-thrusters and charged into the unknown, unleashing all the brilliance they possess in a rock show that knocked far more than me back on our heels. Other highlights included “October Teen,” “Chum” and “Precious Opal,” but for sheer audacity and skill it’s hard to beat the rush from “Mission In Vain” into Grateful Dead classic “The Other One,” which the Hips made their own, layering on hard guitar and limber rhythms in a way that nailed the original and infused it with newness. After The Mother Hips recent barnburner at The Fillmore, it’s clear this band is on a very nice tear right now – one more reason to fully commit to one of America’s best bands, as if folks really needed more inducements with the Hips!

2. Yonder Mountain String Band :: 11:00 pm-12:45 am.:: Terrapin Big Top Stage

A couple things struck me quite poignantly at this Yonder performance: 1) What a massively satisfying sound, and 2) how little this music relates to bluegrass despite the stupid label they’ve been given. For just four guys, playing rather quietly, YMSB generates voluminous waves of music, each player accenting and commenting on the lead lines in a clever, unobtrusive way that nonetheless supports the main thrust at all times. In about two hours, one heard echoes of small group jazz from the 20s/30s, 60s modal exploration, hardcore traditional folk, good ol’ fashioned rock, early country music and some of the free-ranging stylistics Oregon introduced to acoustic music.

Yonder Mountain String Band by Chad Smith

There was none of the showy, dick measuring, spotlight grabbing qualities one finds in most actual bluegrass bands, and even when they took solos, they didn’t go on endlessly or freeze out what everyone else was doing. Where at times I’ve found some of Yonder’s selections a little jokey, today’s YMSB came off as relatively serious and considered, but not too much so. There’s no being overly stuffy when you’ve got a natural born court jester like Jeff Austin dancing on the needle’s head, and though a touch jet-lagged, Austin didn’t disappoint. He makes everyone feel welcome and serves as the chief ambassador to Yonder Mountain, though never staying so long in the foreground that the other three guys are overshadowed. Like most aspects of their music, there’s a hearty balance that’s refreshing and worthy of a lot of respect and genuine enthusiasm.

And jeezus can these guys play! As pickers, each is a blast and perfectly attuned to their brethren. A delight in all ways and one of the best closing night exclamation points ever at Tortugas.

3. Tracorum :: 12:45-1:45 am.:: Tuolumne Hall

Sometimes we listen to music without really hearing it. However, when we’re ready to open up and experience a thing as it truly is, well, it can feel like a baptism. Such was my experience with Tracorum on Sunday night. Having enjoyed them at previous Tortugas, this time I got it in a huge way. What they do is rock ‘n’ roll but done so fundamentally right it makes you want to kiss them when they power down their instruments. This night, as the festival raged like we’d never seen before on a Sunday eve, Tracorum embodied our collective high spirits and unspoken ache at this experience coming to a close and put those elements to work in some of the best boogie-minded, straight-great rock heard all weekend. Comparisons to The Band and studio aces The Wrecking Crew flitted through my brain as I danced to the heart of this fleeting makeshift town next to my loose-limbed sisters and brothers. Every aspect was right on the money and every man showed himself a massive talent on their respective instruments, pouring soul into every note, their conviction becoming our own. While they display a lighter hand and more Latin-y hips on their new album, The Lesson, live this band exudes legend-making magic.

4. Big Light :: 12:45-2:00 pm.:: Tuolumne Hall

Big Light belongs on big stages. They are rapidly outgrowing small spaces, pushing their already appealing material into skyward reaching constructs that need room to breath and cavort. A modern rock band to be sure, Big Light betters the majority of the Pitchfork darlings by being able to deliver in a salacious, snarling way live, which is exactly how they charged at folks on this afternoon. A guest turn from Izabella keyboardist Jeff Coleman stirred up the best “Panther” to date, and nothing else was less than excellent. An ever-forward arching NEED to be better is what’s fueling Big Light’s rapid growth. Seeing them onstage in a set like this is to watch evolution take place in real time. It’s exciting and more than a little fun to behold. Based on showings like this, only expect more and finer music from this quartet in the future.

Ones To Watch

Kate Gaffney

Gaffney is a real emerging talent, filling The Tavern with songs that were easy to like but filled with nuances that make you want to hear them again right away. She’s got an instantly likeable voice that’s only growing more subtle and powerful the longer she plies her craft. She’s surrounded herself with top-notch players and keeps adding interesting material to her songbook. So, in short, there’s nothing not to dig about this Bay Area lady.

Newfangled Wasteland

A Beck cover band is a clever idea. Better still is a Beck cover band that plays nearly unrecognizable versions of Beck’s tunes. Dave Brogan, Chris Haugen, Steve Adams and TLG’s Trevor Garrod hit a sublime groove in their Sunday night set, showing that the longer they toy with these mutations the more they become their own. Said it before but it bears repeating: Festival bookers need to pay attention to this band.

The Hydrodynamics

The Hydrodynamics are the new project of former Blue Turtle Seduction chief songwriter/singer/guitarist Jay Seals. While his old band gave folks warm fuzzies in their festival one-off reunion, it’s clear this is where Seals’ heart is. Filled with hooky, bouncing melodies and abundant female energy, The Hydrodynamics were a touch ragged in their Tortugas debut but it was still evident that this is catchy stuff, pulling from the pop side of The Clash and marrying it to smoother vibes. A young band worth putting on your radar.

Epilogue

There’s no real way to say goodbye to Las Tortugas. Life over these four days is so wonderfully intense and happy that disconnecting from it and returning to time sheets and business calls is inevitably a shock to the system. Still, it’s incredible that Tortugas exists at all. What one finds at Tortugas is the sheer capacity for human beings to share and cavort is FAR greater than we might imagine. This feeling stays with us if we’re conscious about it and nestle away a portion in our breast for the long haul that awaits us beyond Evergreen Lodge. Everywhere one turns at Tortugas is evidence of human ingenuity and compassion delivered with melody and harmony. If you didn’t get kissed, bear hugged or otherwise lovingly groped it’s because you didn’t open your arms. But, as we revel, we’re given chances for revelation, too, and these deeper currents make Tortugas more than just a good time. The idea that we might be better citizens of the world – more loving neighbors, more welcoming strangers – is writ large at Las Tortugas, interwoven with the notes hanging in the air, ephemeral but real all the same.

Continue reading for Thursday/Friday pictures…

var siteRoot=”http://www.jambase.com”;var newPhotoIndex=”16″;$(document).ready( function() { $(“#GalleryWidget”).load(siteRoot+”/Photos/Widget.aspx?galleryID=166″);}); 10/28/10 – 10/29/10 – Las Tortugas Dance of the Dead (Evergreen Lodge) (Groveland, CA) View Photos

Continue reading for Saturday pictures…

var siteRoot=”http://www.jambase.com”;var newPhotoIndex=”25″;$(document).ready( function() { $(“#GalleryWidget”).load(siteRoot+”/Photos/Widget.aspx?galleryID=167″);}); 10/30/10 – Las Tortugas Dance of the Dead (Evergreen Lodge) (Groveland, CA) View Photos

Continue reading for Sunday pictures…

var siteRoot=”http://www.jambase.com”;var newPhotoIndex=”60″;$(document).ready( function() { $(“#GalleryWidget”).load(siteRoot+”/Photos/Widget.aspx?galleryID=168″);}); 10/31/10 – Las Tortugas Dance of the Dead (Evergreen Lodge) (Groveland, CA) View Photos

JamBase | Delighted
Go See Live Music!

Albums of the Week: March 5 – March 11 Jimi Hendrix, Gorillaz

March 6th, 2010 | No Comments

JamBase Albums of the Week | March 5-March 11, 2010

Dennis’ Pick of the Week
Free Energy: Stuck On Nothing (Astralwerks)

Getting the fundamentals right is sometimes more satisfying than truckloads of innovation. Philly’s Free Energy is a gang of guys dedicated to carefully honed pop rock in the tradition of Cheap Trick, Badfinger, Buddy Holly, early Beatles and ’80s pure pop like The Outfield and The Knack. The rainbow adorned black and white high top sneaker pulling on street bubblegum on their debut’s cover is a succinct hint at what’s inside. Casual listeners may dismiss this as fluff, but, like the difficulty of writing a comedy versus a tragedy, really nailing non-ironic, positivity infused music like this is more challenging than the naval fixated mope more common to today’s young acts. It’s a bloody shit storm out there and music that makes us crack a smile and shuffle happily is a real gift. The first verse of opener and theme song “Free Energy” is a kind of manifesto for letting loose:

We’re breaking out this time
Making out with the wind
And I’m so disconnected
I’m never gonna check back in
We’re gonna start a new life, see how it goes
Before we’re tired and too slow

Produced with real punch and clarity by James Murphy (LCD Soundsystem), Stuck On Nothing (arriving March 9) feels like this millennium’s Seconds of Pleasure, the beloved music dork classic by the woefully short-lived Rockpile. There’s a purity of purpose to this band that kisses us with cherry lips and makes us run like an extra in A Hard Day’s Night. Stuck On Nothing is packed with the chutzpah of smiling live wires out to make the world a smidgen brighter. And they have. (Dennis Cook)

Ron’s Pick of the Week
Jimi Hendrix: Valleys of Neptune (Experience Hendrix-Legacy)

When the rights to Jimi Hendrix’s music reverted back to his father Al and half-sister Janie in the mid-90s, it brought forth a plethora of new Hendrix titles that aimed to right the wrongs implemented by the questionable handling of the late guitar legend’s posthumous cache of studio material by his former label, Reprise Records. And though it’s true that much ado has been made about Janie Hendrix – who was just a little girl when Jimi was alive – taking over the Hendrix estate following the death of their father in 2003, she continues to do an excellent job with marketing her half-brother’s nuggets-rich archives. However, her latest creation, Valleys of Neptune (arriving March 9), could very well be the family’s most anticipated collection to date.

Released in the year that marks the 40th anniversary of the Seattle guitar great’s untimely passing and produced by Janie, Hendrix biographer John McDermott and Jimi’s longtime engineer Eddie Kramer, this set – the first under the Hendrix family company Experience Hendrix, LLC’s joint venture with Sony Legacy – is the closest we have come to the 1969 studio album that never was. It contains 12 entirely unreleased cuts predominantly culled from the last studio recordings of the original Jimi Hendrix Experience, which went down during a four-month period in 1969 when the trio of Jimi, bassist Noel Redding and drummer Mitch Mitchell were attempting to craft a follow-up to their 1968 psychedelic magnum opus Electric Ladyland. Seemingly bored with the style the group developed over the course of three albums, these final Experience sessions serve as a quintessential showcase of Hendrix’s initial intentions to push the envelope of his group’s sound into something more organic and earthbound.

Included here are three previously unreleased songs – “Ships Passing Through The Night” (an early template for “Nightbird Flying”), “Lullaby for the Summer” (a song that would soon become “Ezy Ryder”) and “Crying Blue Rain” (featuring “Sympathy for the Devil” percussionist Rocki Dzidzornu on bongos) – as well as a rare electric version of “Hear My Train A Comin’” (an acoustic 12-string rendition was featured on the soundtrack to the 1973 film about Jimi Hendrix and the 1994 compilation Blues, not to mention a grossly re-recorded version on producer Alan Douglas’ notorious 1975 album Midnight Lightning, which saw Hendrix’s singing and guitar playing overdubbed atop hack session musicians barely talented enough to borrow a pick from the man, let alone jam with him), and a studio take on the Experience’s loving cover of Cream’s “Sunshine of Your Love.” You also have expanded arrangements of Hendrix classics “Fire” and “Red House” in addition to an updated rendition of the 1966 standard “Stone Free” taken from Hendrix and Mitchell’s first studio sessions with Band of Gypsys bassist Billy Cox in 1970. And it was that very trio who were also responsible for the full band version of this album’s coveted title cut, long considered to be the Holy Grail of commercially unheard Hendrix (a demo of the track was included on the now-defunct 1990 biographical box set Lifelines). Meanwhile, fans of 1997′s South Saturn Delta, a compilation of material originally featured on such out-of-print Reprise titles as Cry of Love, Rainbow Bridge and War Heroes, will recognize tracks like a cover of Elmore James’ “Bleeding Heart” and a studio version of concert staple “Lover Man,” also previously heard on such seminal live albums as the hard-to-find Hendrix In The West and Live At Woodstock. Then there’s “Mr. Bad Luck” (later known as “Look Over Yonder” on the Delta set), which is the earliest cut on Neptune, having been recorded in 1967 during the Axis: Bold As Love sessions. Any fan of Jimi Hendrix’s last two years walking the earth, which saw him undoubtedly at the peak of his skills as a guitarist and taking great strides towards a more soulful, funkier style, needs to pick up Valleys of Neptune as quickly as possible. That goes double for those of you who may have stepped away from your Jimi stash for a while and need to rekindle your love for the greatest player known to rock ‘n’ roll, both on and off the stage. No Hendrix collection would be complete without it. (Ron Hart)

Great American Taxi: Reckless Habits (Thirty Tigers)

Simply put, this is some first rate country rock. Anyone sweet on the Flying Burrito Brothers, Gram, Poco, early Eagles, et al. will scuff up their boots and run up a hefty bar tab to Great American Taxi’s sophomore effort (released March 2). Though perhaps heresy to Leftover Salmon fans, I think Vince Herman has more grit ‘n’ dusty character in this setting, and the whole dang band can play and sing real well. GAT manages to nestle in fine with their ancestors but also inject a timely, observant thread that keeps things fresh and relevant. This is what you want blaring as you pound whiskey and expound on the putz you work for and life’s other workaday woes. And props for conjuring the spirit of old Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show (“Fuzzy Little Hippie Girl,” “Get No Better”); these boys need to dig into Shel Silverstein’s tunes like “I Got Stoned And I Missed It,” “I Call That True Love” and other early Hook and Bobby Bare classics he wrote and make ‘em their own (a task they may be uniquely qualified for). By turns frisky and thoughtful, the Taxi’s second serving builds on the promise of their debut (JamBase review) with an increasingly developed sound that’s hard to refuse. (DC)

Gorillaz: Plastic Beach (EMI)

At long last, the greatest animated band since The Banana Splits returns from a five-year exile with their excruciatingly anticipated third full-length release. Here, the enigmatic brainchildren of artist Jamie Hewlett and UK rock wunderkind Damon Albarn (who also serves as the album’s producer this time out) transplant their cartoon alter egos – singer 2D, bassist Murdoc Niccals, guitarist Noodle and drummer Russel Hobbs – onto Plastic Beach, a metaphor for what oceanographers are calling “The Great Pacific Garbage Patch.” It’s a clever name for a massive, continent-sized layer of plastic fragments gathering in the middle of the Pacific Ocean that serves as one of our planet’s most dire environmental concerns (though on the album, the Gorillaz recycle the plastic bits to create newfangled gadgets). From there, they utilize an island-kissed variation of their hip-hop/dub/soul/pop hybrid to receive transmissions from such collaborators as Snoop Dogg, Lou Reed, Bobby Womack, Mos Def, De La Soul, Mark E. Smith of The Fall, the Hypnotic Brass Ensemble and, playing for the first time together since The Clash, Mick Jones and Paul Simonon, to craft their most socially conscious, inventive album yet. (RH)

Antioquia: My piano ate the front page of the San Francisco Chronicle (self-released)

You gotta love a band that’s impossible to pigeonhole. Antioquia is stewed from feisty rebel music from many continents, flavorful social consciousness with a hot pepper zest, sexy and smart and waiting to be slurped up in a hungry rush. Latin and African rhythms skip with guitars that wouldn’t be out of place in Captain Beefheart’s Magic Band or headier live Talking Heads. There’s also the New World Order shattering, quasi-future thrust of prime Devo or Pere Ubu, plus the charged, earthy poetics of Patti Smith to boot. If it seems I’m throwing a lot at the wall, well, you kinda have to with Antioquia. There’s some profound shit going inside My PianoÂ… but you could also fuck like a beast to it. Politics and social inquiry are rarely so mouthwatering, and it’s a safe bet Fela, Gil Scott-Heron and Sun Ra would LOVE this. Crank this up LOUD and just see if you don’t crumble a few internal shackles toot suite. Not going to be real surprised if this winds up on some of the hipper, more truly open-minded “Best of 2010″ lists. You can order this release directly from the band here. (DC)

Gonjasufi: A Sufi and a Killer (Warp)

The term “Sufi,” when stripped of all its Islamic mysticism, simply means “man of wool.” And much like the abrasive fabric at the root of this powerful, ancient word, the music on this brilliant debut album from a dreadlocked yoga teacher/MC/singer from Nevada’s badlands is both coarse and comforting all at once. Excellently produced by a trio of Los Angeles’ brightest hip-hop visionaries – The Gaslamp Killer, Flying Lotus and Mainframe – A Sufi and A Killer (arriving March 9) is a globetrotting, psychedelic headtrip of an album that could come from the likes of HR from Bad Brains if he ditched hardcore and punk altogether, signed to Warp Records and defected to California to creatively crash on Madlib’s couch for a spell. Equal parts Tom Waits’ Bone Machine and J. Dilla’s Donuts, it doesn’t take a wise man to see that Gonjasufi is a key ingredient to the future of West Coast hip-hop in the 21st century. (RH)

Past Lives: Tapestry of Webs (Suicide Squeeze)

A gripping rumble revealing surprising sunshine spikes, Past Lives’ debut full-length builds high on the cornerstones of modern prog-rock, hardcore punk and the Velvet Underground. Ex- Blood Brothers Jordan Billie (vocals, lyrics), Morgan Henderson (multi-instrumentalist), Mark Gajadhar (drums) and original BB guitarist Devin Welch exhibit no shortage of ambition on Tapestry of Webs (released February 23), but don’t expect the Brothers’ tumultuous, chalkboard screech. This undulates with greater sensuality and Billie reveals a flexibility and warmth previously unheard. Considerably less claustrophobic or manic than earlier efforts, this presents a band exploring where their sizeable talents and sharp observational skills will take them, willing to slow down and simmer until the right flavors emerge. Open possibilities abound and listeners will find much to explore and interpret within this promising, genuinely seductive new group (DC)

Ruby Suns: Fight Softly (Sub Pop)

From the sandy, organic beaches of New Zealand comes the third album from Los Angeles-by-way-of-Auckland indie pop auteur Ryan McPhun and his band The Ruby Suns. Fight Softly (released March 2) finds McPhun doing away with guitars and drums in favor of laptops, synthesizers and effects pedals. Yet somehow this creates the same organic feel of earlier Ruby Suns’ via digital means, enhancing their unique pastiche of American art pop, Brazilian Tropicalia and Pacific island vibes. Fight Softly is essentially Merriweather Post Pavillion served poolside in a coconut shell with a little umbrella. Not to mention a much better album, arguably speaking. (RH)

Portugal. The Man: American Ghetto (Equal Vision)

Slinky as hell, a loaded title and a captivating experimental yen reminiscent of My Morning Jacket’s Z, Portugal. The Man’s sixth album coalesces and expands on the many subtle, hard-to-pinpoint elements that made a lot of ears lean their direction the past four years. Everything about American Ghetto (released March 2) welcomes in-depth inspection, so as seductively easy as it is to just press play and float on their hip lubricating current here, there’s a great deal going on above & below the surface. Like MMJ, Portugal. The Man welcomes in soul/funk touches, including lover man falsetto and overdriven sleaze guitar lines, which makes the album dance up to one like a pheromone dripping, glowingly perspiring cutie that smells fantastic but also like loads of trouble. Take their wet-lipped kiss and you instantly realize how many secrets and how much quiet ache lies on their darting tongue. American Ghetto is an album fraught with the confusion and excitement of present times, executed with the group’s highest level of sophistication and charm to date. (DC)

Method Actors: This Is Still It (Acute/Carpark)

Early ’80s post-punk duo the Method Actors might not have garnered the kind of accolades fellow Athens natives R.E.M., the B-52s and Pylon received in the first wave of new rock to emerge from the seminal Georgia college town, but as Peter Buck puts it in the R.E.M. guitarist’s extensive liner notes to this excellent collection of early recordings from singer/guitarist Vic Varney and drummer David Gamble, the Actors’ Southern strain of jagged, Gang of Four-meets-Captain Beefheart new wave was a crucial aspect to the “secret history of the Athens scene.” At some points in listening to this 19-track set, it’s hard to believe only two guys are creating this sharp, aggressively precise music. This is definitely recommended for any new wave fan out there. (RH)

John Hiatt: The Open Road (New West)

The road song is a long, revered tradition, especially in American music. There’s a love affair with asphalt under our wheels and the promise of what lies on the other side of a mountain range. Hiatt, the definition of a musician’s musician, has taken his touring band into the studio for 11 road-focused ditties that readily remind one why he’s a go-to songwriter for the likes of Nick Lowe, Emmylou Harris and many more. The Open Road (released March 2) isn’t particularly complex, choosing to be accessible and understandable in a pure folk sense. The music is smoothly delivered roots rock played by guys who’ve been loading gear in & out of vans for many decades. Hiatt’s voice is ragged-right, tattered in all the right ways, and one of the keys to this set’s success, lending a beautifully lived-in character to tunes about getting out there and experiencing life. (DC)

Balmorhea: Constellations (Western Vinyl)

When Austin, TX-based dark acoustic ensemble Balmorhea planned to follow up All Is Wild, All Is Silent, the group’s 2009 concept album based on the desolation experienced by the settlers wandering the American frontier, it seems like they figured the only place to go from there is up. With Constellations (released February 23), they take their sound to the cosmos, crafting a haunting love letter to the night sky that connects us with those very souls wandering the Old West way back when. Balmorhea’s sound, which suggests a late night jam session between Bill Frisell, Keith Jarrett and the Dirty Three at their most solemn, makes for the quintessential soundtrack to counting the stars that hang so calmly above us. (RH)

Randall Bramblett: The Meantime (Blue Ceiling)

Though known to most as a saxphonist/multi-instrumentalist sideman extraordinaire with folks like Levon Helm, Steve Winwood, Widespread Panic and many others, Bramblett dives wholeheartedly into an intimate, personal set focused on his lead vocals and piano and organ playing. The Meantime (arriving March 9) sits close to Bruce Hornsby’s trio work, and here Bramblett is subtly bolstered by Gerry Hanson (drums) and Chris Enghauser (upright bass). Captured with airy grace by Athens, GA legend John Keane, this sensitive, romantic offering is clearly a labor of love. While a touch sugary at times, The Meantime suggests the candlelight crooner crowd has some strong new competition. (DC)

Robert Pollard: We All Got Out Of The Army (Guided By Voices, Inc.)

Since his emancipation from the indie rock industrial complex in 2008, former Guided By Voices svengali and middle school teacher Robert Pollard has released 11 titles under his own accord, including solo albums, a third volume of the GBV Suitcase rarities box series and LPs from his three (yes, THREE) new bands – Boston Spaceships, Cosmos and Circus Devils (and not a dud in the bunch). In 2010, Dayton, Ohio’s favorite drunk continues the onslaught of quality with his 14th solo album (released March 2). Any fan of such late ’90s GBV gems as 1997′s notorious Mag Earwhig! (where Pollard replaced the classic Bee Thousand line-up with members of Cobra Verde) and 1999′s TVT classic Isolation Drills should instantly fall in love with the crisp, crunchy post-UK Jive of We All Got Out Of The Army. (RH)

Morris On: Morris On (Fledg’ling)

Original released on Island Records in 1972, the Morris On LP is a lost British folk classic from a supergroup (of sorts) comprised of members of the Fairport Convention, namely the core threesome of drummer Dave Mattacks, bassist Ashley Hutchings and guitarist Richard Thompson. The music on here might be a little too Olde English for some; so much so, in fact, that you might feel as though you are standing in line for a yard of mead at the Renaissance Faire. But the combination of Hutchings, Thompson and Mattacks (who should have recorded together more often as a solid trio based on this set), joined to the stellar squeezebox work of Fairport associate John Fitzpatrick, produced a ragtag quintet that combined centuries-old English Morris dance music with rock rhythms, creating one of the most intriguing and sought-after gems of its time. This is an elegant, alluring piece of music that will instantly appeal to your inner British nobleman. (RH)

Reptar: Reptar EP (self-released)

The fictional green dinosaur named Reptar is viewed as a hero who helps save the world. Perhaps that’s why this Athens, GA quartet decided to name their band after the character. The EP is a four song set giving the world its first look into the kaleidoscopic, infectious synth-pop world of Reptar. Lyrically, it’s self-reflective and mature beyond the songwriter’s years until the comical rap “Track 4,” a dirty, confused little narrative that I’m glad made it onto the EP. Although only four songs, the range of influences is notable. The band channels the more pop-oriented Modest Mouse’s canonical stylings on “Houseboat Babies,” a pummeling drums-and-synth rock song. “Context Clues” has the swirling, repetitive clutter of “Summertime Clothes” as the singer repeats, “You came to see the good things,” in a hypnotic fashion amongst sitar-ish keys, bird calls, a ticking clock and other dissonant sounds. Comparisons to fellow psych-synth pop artists like Animal Collective and Passion Pit fit, but I promise you these tracks are worthy of a listen. This is neither 2008′s synth pop [MG MT] nor last year’s [Passion Pit]; Reptar manages to create yet another nook in the ever-expanding genre. The only thing seeming to hold these youngsters back is a full class load and geographical separation amongst band members (they’re still in college at UGA, Dartmouth and UNC-Asheville). Like Animal Collective (“Four walls and adobe slats for my girls”), Reptar’s demands aren’t much (“All we want from life is big boy beds and a climax in our heads”). I implore any indie A & R label head to scoop these guys up before it’s too late. Remember, at this point last year, Passion Pit was just a little band with an EP, and look where they are now. (Wesley Hodges)

Oops, We Missed It!
Killer Releases From 2009 That Somehow Slipped By Us

Vince Guaraldi: The Definitive Vince Guaraldi (Fantasy-Concord)

Anyone who ever made the viewing of A Charlie Brown Christmas a holiday tradition in their household is very well aware of the music of Italian-American jazz maestro Vince Guaraldi and his trusty trio. But, there is so much more to the catalog of this genius of the piano, whose life was cut short at the age of 47 in 1976, than “Linus and Lucy,” as this two-disc anthology covering his 11 groundbreaking years on the Fantasy label (1955-1966) so righteously testifies. Just do yourself a favor, if The Definitive Vince Guaraldi moves you, don’t stop here. Make sure that you celebrate this man’s entire catalog, to paraphrase downsizing consultant John Slydell in Office Space. For all you funk fans out there, I would personally start with Oaxaca, a killer 2004 compilation of late 60s/early 70s recordings that finds Guaraldi rocking the Fender Rhodes. Also well worth checking out is 1965′s From All Sides, his stunning collaboration with Brazilian guitar great Bola Sete. This is, of course, already assuming that you own A Boy Named Charlie Brown, which every respectable jazz fan should have in their collection. Dig it! (RH)

Sat Eye Candy: Captain Beefheart

January 16th, 2010 | No Comments

WE’LL LICK YOUR DECALS OFF ANYTIME!

Yesterday was the 69th birthday of Don Van Vliet, better known to sonic freaks and general weirdos everywhere as Captain Beefheart, the leader of a Magic Band and carver of one of the most unusual musical mythologies ever. He also managed to charm Frank Zappa, influence a startling array of folks – ranging from The Clash to Matt Groening to Joan Osbourne to Tom Waits – AND reimagined the blues in a post-LSD world. The Captain and his coconspirators made aggressive strangeness a virtue and unearthed boogie in the oddest of places. No one – seriously, no one – ever conjured lyrics or delivered ‘em in such a perversely compelling way as Beefheart. Though retired from music since the early ’80s, Vliet remains a notable fringe figure in the painting world, and his musical legacy will endure as long as there are ears and switched-on brains unafraid of what’s lurking in the deep brush.

We plug in our birthday salute with a late ’60s TV broadcast that even in the era must have come across as very peculiar as it crept into American living rooms.

Next, a rough, funky assault on a Beefheart favorite from French TV in 1980.

“She’s Too Much For My Mirror” and “Human Gets Me Blues” done up in a nasty, crossroads raw style.

Oh, to have scored a ticket to this Letterman taping!

A nifty snapshot of the Captain and his Magic Band at this long running Dutch music festival.

Oddest beach party band ever! This clip is from 1968 in Cannes, France.

Monster guitarist Gary Lucas offers insights on working with Beefheart.

Oh yeah, he’s still a child of the 1960s!

We wrap with some fast, befuddled blues to help shake you up proper. Happy birthday, Captain. Long may you sail!