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SXSW | 03.20.10 | Austin, TX – Day 4

March 22nd, 2010 | No Comments

Words by: Kayceman | Images by: Scott Dudelson

SXSW :: 03.20.10 :: Saturday :: Austin, TX

She & Him at Rachel Ray’s Party :: 03.20.10 by Dudelson

We celebrated the first day of spring with some of the coldest weather Austin has experienced this year. With a bitter wind and temps dipping down into the 30s, the cold definitely affected the music experience on the final day of South by Southwest. Prior to the really chilly evening, I spent my day at the 40 Watt/JamBase Party located at the Side Bar. With one indoor stage and two outdoor ones, it allowed for a nice flow in-and-out of the elements that kept patrons warm(er). Each stage took the name of a departed Athens artist with the Vic Chesnutt Stage serving the headliners, the Jerry Fuchs Stage being the secondary outdoor venue and the Jon Guthrie Stage set up inside the bar.


Kayceman’s Top 3

#3 – Camper Van Beethoven

Psychedelic folk rock, alternative ska pop, alt-country and whatever else people call Camper Van Beethoven, the band was able to warm the huddled masses at the 40 Watt/JamBase Party with “Take The Skinheads Bowling.” Mixing a polka shuffle with a neat little violin line (that could have been louder in the mix), they twisted deeply into weird Americana/country rock landscapes and it wasn’t hard to pick up on the Leftover Salmon cross-breeding found through bandleader David Lowery‘s work with Salmon in Cracker. What’s even cooler, the band funded their trip to Austin by letting fans donate $100 in exchange for selecting a song to be performed at the fest.

#2 – The Tenant

Street Sweeper Social Club
Rachel Ray’s Party :: 03.20.10 by Dudelson

Named after Roman Polanski’s movie The Tenant, the quartet played inside the 40 Watt/JamBase Party to a filled bar. Working a moody, dark, dream-pop motif with warm textures, they won me over quickly, even though I’d never heard of them before. One can hear the influence of Manchester bands like New Order, Joy Division and Stone Roses, but it still came off as original. Heavy on electronics but juiced with real guitars and drums, it was easy to dance with. Another band that fans of Phoenix or M-83 should really check out.


#1 – Dead Confederate

There were a lot of big, distorted guitar squalls at the 40 Watt/JamBase Party, but none knocked the crust from our tired, cold bones more than Dead Confederate. Built upon slow, patient grooves that erupted into slamming cymbals and walls of noise, it was remarkable that they could paint such a picture in the light of day. This is dark music, both in content and delivery, and it’s best experienced in a loud room with weird lights, where you can hide in the shadows. But none of that mattered during “The Rat.” Looking around the converted parking lot, heads were slamming back and forth and fists were pumping. A serious achievement considering how freaking cold it was.

Bonus Coverage by JamBase CEO David Rosenheim – Big Star Tribute

The remaining members of Big Star joined special guests to perform an emotionally charged tribute to frontman Alex Chilton, who died suddenly on March 17. Big Star was scheduled to play a fest-closing set at Antone’s, and instead of canceling the gig they brought in friends to help celebrate Chilton and his music. The capacity crowd was treated to 100 minutes of Big Star classics from the band’s influential 70s albums #1 Record, Radio City and Third/Sister Lovers. Performing with original Big Star drummer Jody Stephens were current Big Star members Ken Stringfellow and Jon Auer of The Posies. Special guests ranged from original Big Star bassist Andy Hummel, Chris Stamey (dB’s), M. Ward, Mike Mills (R.E.M.), Sondre Lerche, Chuck Prophet, Evan Dando (The Lemonheads), John Doe (who sang a lovely version of “I’m In Love With a Girl”), Amy Speace, The Watson Twins and Curt Kirkwood of Meat Puppets.

Kayceman’s Top 3 Overall for SXSW 2010

1. Sleepy Sun at IODA Party

2. Kayceman’s Treehouse Party

3. Big Light Private Late Night Show in Hilton Suite

Continue reading for Sarah Hagerman’s SXSW Day 4 highlights…

Words by: Sarah Hagerman

The Packway Handle Band at 40 Watt/JamBase Party
03.20.10 by Hagerman

Saturday came down upon us, bitterly cold and gray. It was definitely a shock to the system after three days of gorgeous sun and mild nights. The weather seemed to cause many folks to stay indoors on the last day, which meant noticeably sparser attendance at a lot of shows, plus a fair number of cancellations and outdoor stages running late. But as the sign I spied at Green Mesquite BBQ later that day said, “It’s called Texas weather.” Texas weather means extremes that smack you in the face. So, I bundled up and rolled with the punches.

Packway Handle Band

Those in attendance at the 40 Watt Day Party (co-sponsored by JamBase) seemed to have the right idea – grab a Bloody Mary at Side Bar and huddle in the warmth of conversation. As the crowd swapped stories about the previous nights’ revelries, Athens, Georgia five-piece string outfit Packway Handle Band stepped up to their dual head mic stand, set up on the Jon Guthrie Stage inside the bar. Without so much as an introduction, they launched into a set that made a believer out of everyone by the end. Packway have a fierce stage presence, with more than a touch of dramatic brimstone. Fiddle player Andrew Heaton was especially infused with hellfire, frequently leaping from the mic huddle to run around at the front of the crowd while thrusting his bow into the air like a baton. They were just a joy to watch. I adore the single mic stand set-up for bluegrass bands – it adds an element of theater, and Packway had it down to a snappy science. The four – Heaton, Michael Paynter (mandolin), Josh Erwin (guitar), and Tom Baker (banjo) would smoothly weave in and out (bassist Zach McCoy stood coolly to the side, until the end that is), leaning in close and singing, stepping out for the solo passes and even acting out the lyrics. When they sang, “Times a-comin’ when the sinner must die,” Paynter fell to his knees and Heaton mimed shooting him in the head. With his eyes menacingly wide, Heaton drew his finger across his throat, grimacing on the word “die.” From an amped-up version of “Tell It To Me,” which kicks the shit out of OCMS’s version about five times over, and a cover of The Tiger Lillies’ “Terrible,” which featured trumpets and a couple gals on backup vocals, this is a band that knows how to own any song they set their minds to. At the end of the show, they ran into the crowd, furiously picking their instruments. McCoy raised his doghouse bass over his head, sending the bar lights swinging and wildly cheering folks ducking out of their way. They pushed the crowd back and forth, as they ran into the walls of the bar. This is how I like my bluegrass served up – dark and passionate, with a side of blood.

WhoMadeWho

Lumped in with the post-punk disco bands, but drawing equally on robotic electro and banging club pop, WhoMadeWho were ferociously fun at Encore. They laid down rubbery beats and squishy synth, as bassist Tomas Hoffding leapt from the speakers to the crowd and back again and guitarist Jeppe Kjellberg pointed directly at members of the audience, singing, “You! Your thoughts are dirty!” One of the most amusing things to me was that Hoffding and Kjellberg never cracked the glass cool looks on their faces – Kjellberg kept a slightly-sweet, slightly-pervy smile glued on the whole time, and Hoffding was absolutely unflappable, even when Kjellberg bent down and pretended to tickle his balls or reached over and grabbed his nipples. When Hoffding made a trip into the crowd, an audience member tried to get in on the titty twisting action. Unfazed, Hoffding simply ripped open the top of his shirt and let him have it. These are some seriously freaky Danes, and when they closed the set with a crushing cover of “Satisfaction” from Benny Benassi’s 2003 album Hypnotica (you know, “Push me/ And then just touch me/ Until I get my/ Satisfaction”), you felt like they really wanted you to push them in some very unseemly ways.

Titus Andronicus

Pretty Lights at La Zona Rosa :: 03.20.10 by Aaron Bach

I’m a total Shakespeare nerd, so I had to see a band named after one of The Bard’s more obscure tragedies. I shivered in the cold and darkness of the Red 7 patio, through the end of the utterly unmemorable Crystal Antlers. Titus Andronicus was worth every minute of that wait. You can just tell when a band fervently believes in what they are doing, and lord, does this group write some new gospel. Anthemic punk with definite touches of The Hold Steady, Springsteen and The Pogues, you just want to pump fists to this. Note to self: Get their recorded stuff, so I can scream the lyrics next time. They had bucket loads of energy and are unapologetically brainy. Their latest album, The Monitor, is a loose concept album about the Civil War. They also have an album called The Airing of Grievances, which is a reference to “The Strike” episode of Seinfeld and the holiday Festivus. I’m glad there’s a band of fellow pop culture, literature and history geeks out there to freak out with, who also have the balls to write 15-minute punk songs. I think I’m in love.

Pretty Lights


Utterly beaten to a pulp, I ended my SXSW 2010 with Pretty Lights at La Zona Rosa. Although not normally my thing, I got to hand it to him – Pretty Lights is definitely on top of his game. There’s a reason he’s blown up as of late. He has a seamless sensibility as he layers and melts bits and pieces together. It’s real craftsmanship, and I was well impressed. He also had a mind-blowing light show, and drummer Cory Eberhard added a real thrust behind the sonic palette. Glitchy, dubby and heavy, with moments of exuberant flight, it was the perfect way to sweat and dance down the last hours of SXSW 2010 before 2 a.m. fell upon us. SXSW can be a harsh mistress, but, as I looked around at the beaming faces and hands raised in the air, I knew she’d already called me back for 2011.

Continue reading for more pics of SXSW Day 4…

Images by: Scott Dudelson

Rachel Ray at the Rachel Ray Party :: Stubb’s :: 03.20.10

Dr. Dog at the Rachel Ray Party :: Stubb’s :: 03.20.10

Chapin Sisters at the Rachel Ray Party :: Stubb’s :: 03.20.10

Tom Morello – Street Sweeper Social Club at the Rachel Ray Party :: Stubb’s :: 03.20.10

Andrew WK at the Rachel Ray Party :: Stubb’s :: 03.20.10

Priestess at the Harley Davidson Party :: 03.20.10

The New Harley Davidson at the Harley Davidson Party :: 03.20.10

Exene Cervenka at Bloodshot Records Party :: 03.20.10

Big Light at Relix Showcase :: 03.20.10

The Like at Stubb’s :: 03.20.10

Click here for coverage of SXSW Day 1.

Click here for coverage of SXSW Day 2.

Click here for coverage of Day 3.

JamBase | On The Mend

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SXSW | 03.19.10 | Austin, TX – Day 3

March 20th, 2010 | No Comments

Words by: Kayceman | Images by: Scott Dudelson & Kayceman

SXSW :: 03.19.10 :: Friday :: Austin, TX

Kayceman’s Top 3

#3 – Miike Snow

Dr. Dog :: 03.19.10 :: SXSW by Kayceman

Sweden’s Miike Snow (no one named Mike, Miike or Snow in the band) took the stage in black jackets and white masks around 12:30 a.m. From the first subsonic bass rattle it was near impossible to stand still and it wasn’t hard to imagine talents like this working with Madonna and Britney Spears, with whom band members Christian Karlsson and Pontus Winnbergwon won a Grammy for Best Dance Recording on “Toxic.” These were dance tracks made by a live band that’s not afraid to rock. Heavy on hooks and dusted with slightly strange vocals, if things break right for Miike Snow they could find success like Phoenix or Justice.

#2 – Dr. Dog

Dr. Dog slayed a very packed crowd at the Filter Party with their workmanlike charm. Mixing touring staples “The Old Days,” “Worst Trip” and “Fate” with a few new numbers, including a cool one that read “Mirrors” on the setlist that chased its own tail with an increasing tempo, everything about this band screams future classic. Bassist/vocalist Toby Leaman was a monster, powerfully belting out vocals and digging his heel deep into the stage to drive the machine. Watching the joy this band finds in their music is contagious and I saw more uninhibited dancing in the crowd at this set than at any other all weekend. It all wound down with a psychedelic gospel rave-up that started with a Prince tease and wound up sounding like a relative of My Morning Jacket.

#1 – Big Light Private Hotel Suite Party

Big Light :: Hilton Suite Party :: 03.19.10 :: SXSW by Kayceman

In all my years of attending SXSW I’ve seen a lot of bands in a lot of very interesting places. During the fest Austin turns every possible location into a venue, and no one thinks twice about raging an abandoned supermarket, rocking in a taco shack or taking over an airplane hanger. But never have I seen a full-on rock show in a hotel room. Starting at around 1:15 a.m. in a giant suite at the Hilton (the hub of the festival/conference), Big Light broke new ground at SXSW. Having just covered Big Light in yesterday’s review it was not my intention to cover them again, but this party was the stuff of legends. In addition to all the managers, press, booking agents and big wig industry types, the suite (and adjoining rooms) were stuffed with about 100 people, including the Talking Heads‘ Jerry Harrison, Blues Traveler‘s John Popper, DJ Logic, Papa Mali and the Barr Brothers. We had given the over-under on how many songs they’d actually get to play before security shut them down at around three, but the stars were aligned and Big Light played an entire hour-plus rock show at full volume. The set even included a nice sit-in by The Slip‘s Brad Barr on guitar. Big Light blew it up and confirmed their place as a serious buzz band at this year’s SXSW. This was easily one of the best parties I’ve been to at South by, or anywhere for that matter.

Continue reading for Sarah Hagerman’s SXSW Day 3 highlights…

Words by: Sarah Hagerman

Jonathan Tyler & The Northern Lights

Jakob Dylan and Three Legs (Featuring Neko Case)
03.19.10 :: SXSW by Dudelson

“Baby it’s been too long/ Since rock and roll turned you on,” Jonathan Tyler cried. ‘Nuff said. Fervent believers in the power of music to get our juices flowing, Tyler and his band The Northern Lights had the crowd getting down at the Relix day party at Antone’s. Channeling The Black Crowes with touches of Zeppelin, The Lights had a magnetic stage presence, stomping with their instruments and exuding rock star confidence. They are damn good, and they know it, but they’re ultimately here to have fun and make your ass move. They were tight as hell, too. When the lovely backup singer stepped to the mic to lead a song, throwing some very Erykah Badu-esque R&B and hip-hop into the mix, the band didn’t miss a beat behind her, tying the whole thing together with some Roots-like grooves. I would have liked to see more of her, but hot damn, this was a flat out great show. When they left the stage, Relix Editor-in-Chief Josh Baron wiped his brow as he took the mic, declaring, “I don’t know about you, but I just got run over!”

Trampled by Turtles

Some bands just have an uncanny sense of how to write songs that stick with you. Although they get well-deserved props for their cathartic and energetic live shows – you’ve never seen so much sweat pour from five guys sitting down – it’s the songwriting that sets Trampled by Turtles apart. They’ve got positively addictive hooks, and on quieter numbers, like the beautiful sigh of “Trouble,” they let them unwind with a natural ease. This set at Red-Eyed Fly flew by at a breakneck pace. I got a couple personal favorites, including “Empire” and a vicious “Burn for Free,” plus some killer new material from the upcoming Palomino. Ryan Young (fiddle) and Erik Berry (mando) practically folded into their chairs as they attacked their instrument with red-faced intensity that had the crowd whooping and shrieking. “I like your beards!” I heard someone shout. At this point during SXSW, I’ve seen enough ironic facial hair to last the rest of my life. But TbT offer genuine scruff. You get the sense that no matter how far they climb they won’t ever forget where they came from. It’s that grounding that keeps them so real and keeps their music so warm, even in the midst of the fury they can unleash when they take the stage.

Quasi

Janet Weiss (of now defunct Sleater-Kinney) is one of the fiercest, most versatile drummers in indie rock royalty. She was flexing serious muscle during Quasi’s set at Antone’s, with pin-sharp machine gun rat-a-tats and crescendos that built to brain-pulping levels. Quasi are pure, stripped-down garage adrenalin. They don’t fuck around or have a lot of pretension – they keep it lean, but draw it out in decidedly rough lines. Joanna Bolme‘s bass was chewy, and Sam Coomes‘ guitar work could break down into anarchy at any moment. Closing out their set with “Bye Bye Blackbird,” they destroyed some eardrums as they let it all hang loose with feedback buzzes, squeals, and washes of thick noise.

Velvet Truckstop

Trampled by Turtles :: 03.19.10 :: SXSW

There comes a moment at every SXSW. Your feet hurt. You can’t bear to over hear one more name-dropping conversation or see one more person glued to their iPhone while a band is killing it a few feet away. You are tired of wading through the mess on 6th Street. You are just plain tired, only averaging about four hours of sleep a night. That’s when you need something to remind you why you’re here, and I couldn’t have asked for better medicine than Velvet Truckstop. Crammed into a sweaty Nuno’s, VT laid down rock and roll salvation of the highest order. With their lofty electric blues, driving southern rock jams and echoes of The Band and Wilco, they gave me, and several others, the will to dance down the last hours until closing time. Readers, you need to get acquainted with Velvet Truckstop. These cats are cut from some genuine cloth, the kind of band that pulls you through the rough times and sends you out into the night with a romping “Hallelujah!” Guitarist Dorsey Parker was especially tapped into something huge, making it look so damn easy but one glance at his fingers moving across his axe left your head spinning. They got songwriting skills that bow towards the classic, such as the asphalt-scarred “Carolina Way,” where Jamie Dose sings about the “broken dreams and guitar strings” that litter the highway while you’re chasing a dream. But you keep pushing on regardless, because you believe in what you’re doing. If that’s not what SXSW is ultimately all about, then I don’t know what is.

Continue reading for more pics of SXSW Day 3…

Images by: Scott Dudelson

Billy Bragg and Wayne Kramer at Ghost Bar

Mike Mills (R.E.M.) at Ghost Bar

Wayne Kramer at Ghost Bar

Audible Mainframe at Spin Party

Billy Bragg at Don’t Mess With Texas Party

Frightened Rabbit at Don’t Mess With Texas Party

Citizen Cope at SXSW Day Stage

Diane Birch at SXSW Day Stage

Dead Confederate at Little Radio Party

Foxy Shazam at Spin Party

Fucked Up at Spin Party

Rogue Wave at Spin Party

Miike Snow at Spin Party

Wooden Birds at Mohawk

Metric at Stubb’s

Emily Haines – Metric at Stubb’s

Steel Train at Encore

Click here for coverage of SXSW Day 1. Click here for coverage of Day 2.

Check back tomorrow for more coverage of SXSW 2010…

JamBase | Tejas

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SXSW | 03.18.10 | Austin, TX – Day 2

March 19th, 2010 | No Comments

Words by: Kayceman | Images by: Scott Dudelson & Kayceman

SXSW :: 03.18.10 :: Thursday :: Austin, TX

Kayceman’s Top 3

#3 – Broken Social Scene

Band of Horses at Stubb’s
03.18.10 by Dudelson

If we let them, Broken Social Scene will heal us. One of the most innovative and influential indie rock bands of our time, they’ve pulled off the very difficult trick of being super-indie-hipster chic but so totally void of pretense or posturing that the music always feels real, genuine and from a deep place. When they tell us to fight for joy or they crank out triumphant, celebratory music and tell us it’s how our lives should sound, it works. This is the power of music. Melody, notes and words combined and organized in ways that illicit profound emotion, thoughts and even actions – these are the waters that BSS swim in. Though Feist performing at Stubb’s on Thursday night was just a rumor (there’s lots of rumors at SXSW – did you hear Jay-Z and Mötley Crue are gonna do surprise sets?) it didn’t matter. Brendan Canning, Kevin Drew, Apostle of Hustle, Jason Collett and the other dozen or so musicians (I believe the stage maxed out at 14 people) put on a life-affirming set of loose jams and soaring harmonies. New track “World Sick” from the forthcoming Forgiveness Rock Record (due May 4 on Arts & Crafts) featured one of the most infectious bass lines at SXSW and old standouts “Fire Eye’d Boy” and “7/4 (Shoreline)” wrapped us tight in a sheet of distorted guitars and warm horns.

#2 – Band of Horses

Another group with a new album coming soon (Infinite Arms out May 17 on Columbia), Band of Horses also toil in emotion’s murky waters. Ben Bridwell and his Horses aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty digging through dark soil, but like Broken Social Scene, there’s resolution and joy in the end. Starting their set at Stubb’s with “Is There A Ghost” and “Great Salt Lake,” it didn’t take long for the giant guitars and powerful vocals to capture the sprawling crowd’s attention. And when the girl next to me grabbed her boyfriend’s arm and said, “I’m sooo excited. I love this band,” it was clear this music speaks to people. Like art in general, it’s a difficult thing to quantify or explain. Why does a certain selection of notes or set of words make us feel what it does? What is it about certain songs that allow them to touch us so deeply? Hard to say, but when you feel it, there’s no mistaking it. Band of Horses staples “The Funeral,” “No One’s Gonna Love You” and “Marry Song” were coupled with a Yo La Tengo cover and two new songs. The first new track was a mid-tempo burner pulled tight with emotion and the second was a foot-stomping country rock number with a heavy dose of organ; both show great promise for the upcoming album. More than even the sweet material Bridwell is coming up with, what makes Band of Horses so great right now is that they are a real band and they’re finding their power. The lineup went through a number of changes before arriving at this unit and every time I’ve seen this band over the past year or two they’ve gotten better and better.

#1 – Kayceman’s Treehouse Party

Paz Lenchantin – Entrance Band
03.18.10 by Kayceman

Kayceman’s Treehouse Party was really fun. Perched up on a deck framed against the Austin skyline and packed with some of my favorite bands, it was an honor to have my name associated with such talent. Showing up to my own party just a little late due to a work commitments, I, unfortunately, missed Any Day Parade and The Fresh & Onlys, but when The Moondoggies started all worries washed away. Like an 18-wheeler headed down a steep slope, The Moondoggies’ three-part harmonies, tent revival energy, and gospel-baked roots rock was impossible to deny. If you dig The Band and The Byrds and don’t know this Seattle group then you have to check out their stunning 2008 debut Don’t Be a Stranger (JamBase review).

Following The Moondoggies was perhaps my favorite set of the day: The Entrance Band. Guitarist/vocalist/leader Guy Blakeslee is a psychedelic guitar shredder. Shirt off and standing on speakers, he played lefty with a right-handed guitar strung upside down a la Hendrix, and this is one follower Jimi would surely approve of. As difficult as it was to steal any of Blakeslee’s thunder, bassist Paz Lenchantin (A Perfect Circle) stole the show. Sexier than all hell in her high heels and tight jeans, she was rolling on the stage, playing over her head and rubbing against the speakers. But none of it would have mattered if she weren’t such an over-the-top monster bassist. Blakeslee and Paz are a remarkable team, and with drummer Derek James they dig deep into the psych-rock woods – feeling, living every note and squeezing the juice from every moment of their glorious journey.

Entrance Band was a hard act to follow, but Red Cortez fears no stage. Built around gifted frontman Harley Prechtel-Cortez, there’s an early U2 vibe that hints at what’s possible for this band, and based on the new material we heard in Austin and with a new album produced by the legendary Ethan Johns coming soon, one gets the impression this band is just starting to hit their stride.

Big Light :: Kayceman’s Treehouse
03.18.10 by Kayceman

The Mother Hips did what they do and burned the Treehouse down. One of the most consistently great live acts around, they don’t disappoint. Playing to the largest crowd of the day, burly rockers like “Grizzly Bear” and “Third Floor Story,” and the dirty hard funk-rock of “Magazine” were razor sharp but never too tight. Frontman Tim Bluhm and guitarist Greg Loiacono are a true dynamic duo, and this band is enjoying a true renaissance period right now that finds them better than at any point in their 20 year career.

It’s clear Everest are on the rise. Touring with Neil Young has taught them how to flex their muscles, and when they lean into crunching guitar jams it hits hard. But they also show a delicate, acoustic side and bandleader Russell Pollard is shaping up to be a remarkable songwriter. The tracks from their upcoming sophomore album, On Approach (due April 20 on Vapor Records), indicate a band that’s nowhere near their ceiling. It should be fun to watch them climb the mountain.

Hosting San Francisco local boys and JamBase darling Big Light was a real treat. Playing to a deck full of industry folks there to see them, BL did the job with four hard hitting power-pop nuggets of rock & roll. There were several conversations overheard about how this band is “really getting their shit together,” and the interplay between drummer Bradly Bifulco and guitar stud Jeremy Korpas during “Heavy” was just awesome.

Closing down the festivities was Knoxville, TN’s Royal Bangs. Pumping out woozy keyboards and inventive guitar lines, they were a jolt of energy that reinvigorated anyone who might have gotten a bit too much sun up at the Treehouse. Hitting pleasure zones like !!!, they’ve described their music as “easy shred computer jam,” and even though they’ve trimmed from a five-piece to a trio there appears to be little if anything lost in transition.

Continue reading for Sarah Hagerman’s SXSW Day 2 highlights…

Words by: Sarah Hagerman

Those Darlins :: 03.18.10 :: SXSW

Yacht

I’d heard vaguely of Yacht going in, and honestly probably would have skipped them if it weren’t for the urging of a buddy. Based on the name alone, I had assumed they were going to be more along the lines of some kind of ironic hipster “yacht rock,” with boat shoes and Kenny Loggins-style falsettos. Oh how wrong I was. Although they certainly were dressed to the nines, this wasn’t no champagne-sipping in the sunshine sail. They laid down a dirty, post-punk, disco ass-shake-a-thon at the Spaceland Day Party at Palm Door. Jona Bechtolt and Claire L. Evans held court at the front of the stage as their band offered up lead-heavy beats and screaming punk aggression. They were the picture of cool as they strutted back and forth, working the crowd into a jumping mess with steely stares and sneers that said, “If you don’t dance, someone’s gonna get hurt.” Evans would twist her mic cord around her body and fiercely pose by the pole in the center of the stage, with a vibe that couldn’t help but remind me of Debbie Harry. I could see these cats going over well at Camp Bisco. If you dig !!! or Gossip, climb on board.

Fool’s Gold

Heaving and buckling with the weight of sardine-packed jumping bodies, the narrow side porch of the Palm Door (which was serving as a makeshift second stage) threatened to give way during Fool’s Gold’s early evening set. This band puts on a tribal, tropical dance party that grabs your sweaty hand and drags you into a conga line. They really stretched out, too, moving between blasting sax funk and tight drumming with snappy ease, keeping those floorboards quaking under their brilliant shine.

The Entrance Band

The setting for the stacked lineup at Kayceman’s Treehouse Party felt like an awesome little secret, set high above the rumble of 6th Street below. As the hot midday sun beat down on our heads at the upstairs patio at Cheers shot bar, Entrance Band melted our brains. Playing psychedelic scattershot guitar like Hendrix (he even busted out the behind-the-head move), frontman Guy Blakeslee had the rock star thing down to a science. Pure organic chemistry, as badass bassist Paz Lenchantin crushed the low end and drummer Derek James seemed hypnotized behind his wall of hair. Drawing out washes of feedback while bent over their instruments, Blakeslee and Lenchantin looked about ready to fold up and meld with the stage. They rose up, to end the set with a tremendous roar. Note to self: earplugs exist for a reason.

Those Darlins

Man Man :: 03.18.10 :: SXSW

“If you don’t want a wild one/ Don’t hang around with me” might as well be tattooed on these girls’ forearms. Look out, fellas, you might well find yourself handcuffed to a bed with your wallet missing and your car long gone. Riot girl rockabilly queens-to-be, these gals are like the delinquent granddaughters of Wanda Jackson (guitarist Jessi Darlin‘s voice even had a similar high-pitched gritty wail). With songs about getting drunk and eating a whole chicken and having phone sex with prank callers, they aren’t afraid to get raunchy and bloody and then wake up with questionable bruises. Nikki Darlin dropped her baritone ukulele towards the end of the set and stomped around the front of the stage at the Billboard.com Bungalow, spitting gulps from her pint of whiskey sky high. At one point, she balanced herself on some folks in the front row, and it looked like an older, bald gentleman got pretty well acquainted with her crotch for a minute. It was chaos by the end of their set, with Nikki and bassist Kelley Darlin wrestling, and Jessi strangling and tossing her guitar around, before all three dissolved into a pile, rolling and kicking in the center of the stage. This shit was totally badass, oozing confident in-your-face sexuality and dirty south pride. I want to rage with these gals, but I think things would get pretty damn messy.

Man Man

With Man Man, I don’t know if I want to have whatever they are having, but I sure do love the contact high. This band brings out something positively primal in you, puts you in touch with some feral base elements growling in your blood, makes you want to howl at the moon. Let me put it this way – it was the first honest to god slam pit and stage push I’d seen at SXSW. If you were in the front for this show, you were part of the chaos. No standing back and taking notes or texting on your Blackberry here. Like a marching band on the elevator to hell, or a birthday party from your Jungian shadow, their stage set-up is always impressive, as they leap from brass to xylophone to noise makers. Frontman Honus Honus stalked around with a wild, possessed look in his eyes, contorting his face as he sang, wrapping himself in a hooded cloak and red Christmas lights one minute, donning a glittery dress the next. “You make me feel like a zombie!” he shrieked during “Big Trouble.” There’s a monster inside all of us, and you can always count on Man Man to drag it out from under the bed. It’s pretty damn exciting, and a little bit scary.

Dead Confederate

Equal parts grungy and hypnotic, Dead Confederate gave us one final shot of adrenaline in our veins as we gathered the last pieces of the night. The enormous sound was all encompassing, gluing you to the pavement, so that all you could do was violently shake your head in its wake. Hardy Morris has a wail that reminded me a little bit of Perry Farrell, cutting through the dark fuzz of the band to soar over those of us still upright. It shot shivers straight through my bones. As 2:00 a.m. crept up, Morris said the band had two more songs. They slew one, and then halfway through their last song, the plug was pulled. It was an abrupt and jarring end, and it’s unfortunate the Billboard.com Bungalow wouldn’t have let them see it through an extra few minutes instead of unceremoniously sending us out into the night to dodge the wasted and the lost winding their way back towards beds or searching for that last, secret party pumping somewhere in the Austin night.

Continue reading for more pics of SXSW Day 2…

Images by: Scott Dudelson

Athlete at Billboard Bungalow Party

Bear In Heaven at Mohawk

Besnard Lakes at Emo’s Annex

Broken Social Scene at Stubb’s

Drive-By Truckers at Stubb’s

Camper Van Beethoven at Encore

Cocoon at French Party

Jason Collett at Little Radio Party

Dead Sexy Inc. at French Party

Damion Suomi at Paste Party

Gringo Starr at Habana Calle

Local Natives at Emo’s

Lovely Feathers at Emo’s Annex

The Mother Hips at Encore

The Moondoggies at Kayceman’s Treehouse Party

Oh Mercy at Emo’s Annex

Quest For Fire at Habana Calle

Sara Haze at Billboard Bungalow Party

Sondre Lerche

The Bewitched Hands at French Party

The Walkmen

Vivian Girls at Club Deville

Surfer Blood at Club Deville

Click here for coverage of SXSW Day 1.

Check back tomorrow for more coverage of SXSW 2010…

JamBase | In Deep

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SXSW | 03.17.10 | Austin, TX – Day 1

March 18th, 2010 | No Comments

Words by: Kayceman | Images by: Scott Dudelson & Kayceman

SXSW :: 03.17.10 :: Wednesday :: Austin, TX

With almost 2,000 bands performing on 80 stages throughout downtown Austin, the South by Southwest Music Conference is a music marathon fueled by Lone Star Beer and tacos. Now in its 24th year, SXSW might not be about signing new bands as it once was (the internet has really changed the game in how we discover music), but it still offers the opportunity to see a shitload of bands, some of whom will be stars before long, in a short period of time. The dynamics of SXSW may have changed as the festival has grown, but one thing hasn’t changed: This long weekend in Texas can still break bands.

Kayceman’s Top 3

Lissie at Galaxy Room :: SXSW :: 03.17.10 by Kayceman

#3

First set on the first day and Lissie was awesome. Reminiscent of a more rocking Neko Case or younger, more psychedelic Bonnie Raitt, Lissie filled the room with her powerful voice and flowing golden locks. More than singing songs it often felt like Lissie was opening windows into her life. One gets the impression these are confessionals, and when she hit the big notes it sent shivers down my spine. Lissie on electric guitar was backed by a strong lead guitarist who took some searing solos and a bass player who sat on a stool and also played high-hat and kick drum (no drummer in this band), the power this three-piece cooked up was impressive. She closed her set with a soul-rock, gospel tent revival rave-up called “Little Lovin’” off her wonderful debut EP Why You Runnin’, which won over every pair of ears in the room.

#2

If you can make the hipsters dance you are doing something really special. San Francisco’s psychedelic warriors Sleepy Sun are looking more and more like a “special” band, and their set at the IODA party uncorked some seriously good times. A close cousin to bands like Brightblack Morning Light and The Black Angels, the female counter-point vocals helped ease the heaviness of the music to create a welcoming haze. Like really good drugs where you feel opened up by the experience, like your learning something unspoken, this set was deep. The unquestionable highlight occurred when they brought out the Austin Children’s Choir and finished the set with a cover of The Guess Who’s “No Sugar Tonight/New Mother Nature” that stripped the crowd of their cool and ushered in an honest to goodness dance party.

Sharon Jones at Stubb’s :: SXSW
03.17.10 by Scott Dudelson

#1

Number one slot on the first day: Stubb’s. Between another wicked set from Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings, Austin’s own Spoon, and a set by the biggest buzz band of the fest, Broken Bells, this bill was tough to beat. Only unfortunate thing was that Broken Bells (featuring Danger Mouse and The Shins‘ James Mercer) wasn’t very good. They weren’t bad, and the songs are really great, but you could tell the live show was just an extension of the album’s success. There were a few high points, like opener “The High Road,” but overall the live show was a sloppy second to one of the best albums of this young year.

Sharon Jones on the other hand killed it. Her band is ridiculously tight and Jones is simply one of the best bandleaders around. Every single time I see this act I’m impressed, and at Stubb’s it was no different. Playing to the largest crowd of the night, she had the audience in the palm of her hand with songs like “100 Days, 100 Nights,” new one “She Ain’t A Child No More,” and a very cool reworking of “This Land Is Your Land.” For anyone who says the golden days of soul music are gone, I say listen to Sharon Jones. Stax, Motown and Muscle Shoals got nothin’ on Ms. Jones and her Dap-Kings.

Strange enough to keep it interesting but built on brilliant songs with inventive hooks, Spoon is a true leader in the modern rock world. Bathing in psychedelic splashes of sound at times, it felt like we were in an echo chamber, and the guest percussionist was a nice touch, too. Songs like “Written In Reverse,” “Don’t Make Me a Target” and “My Mathematical Mind” captivated the crowd with relentless rhythms and perfect precision, while “I Turn My Camera On” made a case for what disco could have been. This is a band of efficiency. No wasted notes or gratuitous solos (there wasn’t a traditional solo all night), everything serves the song. Spoon continues to dish out the goods, and seeing them on their home turf on a big night like this was reason to celebrate.

I’d love to tell you more, but there is quite literally a party with my name on it that has already started. I need to get there. Let that be a glimpse into SXSW: There’s always too much to do…

Continue reading for Sarah Hagerman’s SXSW Day 1 highlights…

Words & Images by: Sarah Hagerman

Wanda Jackson & Green Corn Revival

Wanda Jackson :: 03.17.10

SXSW is geared towards pushing what’s up-and-coming, but it also provides exciting chances to see legends in intimate settings. When the MC strolled out onto the Palm Door stage to announce Wanda Jackson – “The newest member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The first lady of rock and roll! The queen of rockabilly!” – a gal that had roses tattooed from her wrist to her shoulder screeched in excitement and a dude with a pretty fierce wedge haircut and checkered jacket pumped his fists in the air. “I love singing to a pole!” she declared with a laugh, eyeing the rather unfortunately placed pillar smack dab in the center of the stage, before launching into “Mean Mean Man.” As Green Corn Revival laid down rough-and-ready country, with slinky steel guitars and the occasional peppy trumpet, she wailed in her high, hundred proof voice. Armed with yodels, a kick ass pink guitar and stories about dating Elvis, at 72, Jackson is one feisty firecracker in a red fringe blouse. With classics such as “I Gotta Know,” one of the first rockabilly songs ever recorded from 1956, and a killer version of “Heartbreak Hotel,” she oozed timeless rock and roll attitude. But this was no nostalgia set. With a new album produced by Jack White, Jackson is still a force to be reckoned with. During her fantastic take on Amy Winehouse’s “Trouble,” she leaned suggestively against the pole, posing and pointing to folks in the audience as she drew out the lines, “I told ya I was trouble/ You know I’m no good.” I overhead someone behind me declare, “Yeah, she’s still trouble.” I would suggest to anyone that comes to SXSW to try and catch at least one such show to realize, even in the midst of flash in the pan culture, there are artists who endure, and even stay fresh, after decades in the music industry.

Anais Mitchell

Anais Mitchell currently has an ambitious project, Hadestown: A Folk Opera. Based on the Orpheus Tale and set in a post-apocalyptic, depression-era America, folks like Justin Vernon, Greg Brown, and Ani DiFranco play the roles of Orpheus, Hades and Persephone, respectively. But tonight, it was just Mitchell and her guitar. She hushed the intimate crowd at The Ale House, some of whom sat frozen on the floor, causing Mitchell to remark, “I feel like it’s story time in the library.” With the Guinness and Lone Star-soaked mayhem of 6th Street’s rage-a-thon pumping a block away, it was a welcome slice of peace, though her words touched on places that shook you to the core. For example, “Why We Build the Wall,” where Hades asks a series of rhetorical questions to a group of children living in his walled city. “Why do we build the wall?/ We build the wall to keep us free.” Freedom in this case means protection from the starving, poverty-stricken masses outside the gate. It was a bit Orwellian, and at a time where the social problems that confront us are often met with hostile indifference by those that feel entitled to clutch their piece of the pie, it hit a nerve. I couldn’t help but imagine the stark, barbaric wasteland of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, and woke up this morning unable to escape this image below, sung by Persephone in another tune:

The earth is a bird

On a spit in the sky

How long?

How long?

How long?

Bowerbirds

Danny Barnes :: 03.17.10

You had to feel for Bowerbirds. The crew running the Brooklyn Vegan showcase at Club De Ville took over half an hour to sound check the band, and after the first song, “Silver Clouds” from their stunning album Upper Air, guitarist Phil Moore broke both his pick and one of his strings, causing keyboardist and accordion player Beth Tacular to sigh, “Disasters everywhere.” But the band took it in stride, playing a set that positively glowed, with a warm, inviting folk sound that you just wanted to join under the covers. “House of Diamonds” is Zen philosophy set to music, a reminder that true freedom exists inherently in our mind and once you open yourself to that place, you have the strong heart to let the world inside: “Yes, you own the stars/ You own the thunder/ But you have to share it all.” This is the kind of band that builds you up into something stronger and reminds you, “Hey, shit happens.” It’s all strikes and gutters, ups and downs, and all you can do is abide.

Danny Barnes & Honky

It’s a rare artist that can slip their material into different mediums and have it work just as well. But when you’ve got a set of songs as strong as the ones on Danny Barnes’ latest, Pizza Box, the work speaks for itself. Although he usually plays his solo shows with his banjo and laptop, using Ableton software to loop and create texture, this night Barnes was backed by Honky – Jeff Pinkus (Butthole Surfers) on bass and Justin Collins on drums, later joined by Bobby Rock on guitar. It was an amped-up approach that suited the songs to a tee, as Barnes’ latest work travels from the sincerely touching to the unabashedly badass. At one point, he had us all verklempt during love song “Overdue,” his banjo dancing lightly over Pinkus’ melodic low end. Later, he picked up a flying-V guitar and wailed with a beaming Bobby Rock on “Road,” his tale of a methamphetamine dealer hell bent on destruction. The latter was the perfect lead-up to an end cap of Honky songs. Running on pure diesel, where even the girls on the mud flaps would be giving you the middle finger, Honky took us for a whirlwind ride as they stretched their time to the max. There’s a dirty grind with a rough-and-tumble heart in their sound, and Barnes’ wild guitar freakouts fit perfectly. The grins on their faces and laughter as they would catch each other’s eyes said it all – these cats were having a hell of a party up there, ripping it apart for those of us left standing at the brink of 2 a.m. at The Palm Door. Although he hasn’t called Austin home for awhile, at one point a gentleman in the back cried, “Welcome home, Danny!” A true original who has never fit in anyone’s box, Barnes’ presence is certainly a welcome addition to SXSW this year.

Continue reading for more pics…

Images by: Scott Dudelson

Danger Mouse – Broken Bells at Spinner Party

James Mercer – Broken Bells at Spinner Party

Broken Bells at Spinner Party

The Asteroids Galaxy Tour at Emo’s Annex

Leo Rondeau at Club Deville

Doll and The Kicks at Emo’s Annex

Drake Bell at St. David’s Hall

Freelance Whales at Paste Party

Henry Clay People at Little Radio Party

Hollarado at Canadian BBQ Party

Javelin at Buffalo Billiards

Mando Diao at Mohawk

Will Shef – Okkervil River at Paste Party

Roky Erickson at Paste Party

Suckers at Paste Party

Titus Andronicus at Force Field Party

Trespassers William at Hilton Gardens

Visqueen at Stubb’s

Dawes at Club Deville

Check back tomorrow for more coverage of SXSW 2010…

JamBase | Texas

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Northwest String Summit 2010

December 16th, 2009 | No Comments

YONDER-CENTRIC WEEKEND RETURNS

NWSS 2009 by Bill Ball

The Northwest String Summit will be back for its ninth year, July 16 – 18, 2010, at Horning’s Hideout in North Plains, Oregon. Once again, Yonder Mountain String Band will be hosting the event with two sets each night.

If you are interested in helping the Northwest String Summit continue to be the Northwest’s premier acoustic music festival, there are many volunteer roles available. Enquiries can be emailed to volunteers@stringsummit.com.

Check out Sarah Hagerman’s fabulous coverage of 2009 Northwest String Summit here.


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Two High String Band:: Hot Texas Bluegrass Burrito

December 14th, 2009 | No Comments

By: Sarah Hagerman

Hot Texas Bluegrass Burrito is bluegrass without fuss or pretension, rumbling across the Texas Hill Country’s rugged limestone rises. The group assembled for this outing of Two High represents a who’s-who of Central Texas talent, with core trio of Billy Bright (mandolin, vocals), Brian Smith (finger-picking guitar, vocals), and Geoff Union (flat-picking guitar, vocals) joined by storied bluegrass patriarch Alan Munde (banjo; Jimmy Martin, Flying Bluegrass Burrito Brothers, Country Gazette), Eric Hokkanen (fiddle; Austin’s eclectic and otherworldly maestro), and Mark Rubin (bass, vocals; Bad Livers co-founder), bringing his signature distinguished edge.

The musicianship here then is nothing short of stellar, every note turning and moving with breathless revelry. Infused with a timeless sensibility, the original songs stand up on strong legs next to choice covers like “Hello City Limits” (Johnny Elgin and Benny Martin) and Coltrane’s “Lazy Bird,” featuring Munde’s tumbling, throaty banjo. Bright’s Hartford-esque “High on the Ohio,” skims leisurely across the cold river water, Hokkannen’s fiddle skipping over the surface with dragonfly flits, while “E. Compton Blues” has an instantly addictive hook with enough space for each player to step around the twisting mando line; time should see it christened canonical. Union’s “Ferris Wheel” captures the childlike excitement of a traveling fair rolling through a small town with picking that whirls with midway colors, and “Spirit of ’94″ (about the Whiskey Rebellion) offers a gritty history lesson. To borrow a line from “Ohio,” Two High’s hearts are grounded “where they know what bluegrass is/ And they know what bluegrass ain’t.” Keeping it that simple sure sounds bloody grand.

JamBase | Centered
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Monsters of Folk | 11.13 | Texas

November 19th, 2009 | No Comments

Words by: Sarah Hagerman | Images by: Manny Moss

Monsters of Folk :: 11.13.09 :: Stubb’s BBQ :: Austin, TX

Jim James – Monsters of Folk :: 11.13 :: Austin

“God bless you, Austin, you never let us down!” Jim James cried happily from the stage. The genuine kick that James, M. Ward, Conor Oberst, and Mike Mogis, joined by Texas’ own Will Johnson (Centro-matic) on drums, get out of playing with each other spilled over onto the audience, as a sold out Stubb’s BBQ gave James back his enthusiasm in kind for this last show on the U.S. leg of the Monsters of Folk tour.

It was a balmy Friday the 13th that in most other places would have seemed more June than November. A couple weeks shy of America’s annual celebration of football, family and tryptophan induced comas, The Monsters set a mood of gratitude early, played on to the darkness of the Stubb’s stage by William Vaughn’s “Be Thankful For What You Got” (you know, “Diamond in the back/ Sunroof top/ Diggin’ the scene with a gangster lean/ Woo-ooo-ooo”), with the word “LOVE” drawn out in green reflective tape on the side of a speaker.

I won’t pretend I came into this show unbiased. As a long-time My Morning Jacket fan, I would pay to watch James sing the Yellow Pages – hell, he could pause for a kazoo solo between “plumbing” and “plywood suppliers” and I wouldn’t complain. So yes, I was among those who let out a happy yelp at the first notes he sang on show opener “Say Please.” Meanwhile Ward is someone who took longer to work his way into my heart, and I’ve only recently come to deeply appreciate his striking imagery, sincere love of vintage sounds, and that voice that breathes gentle smoke, hovering just out of time. Plus, he’s a helluva guitarist, who sent my jaw to the floor a few times during this show. Then there’s Oberst, whose earnest Bright Eyes persona I found grating and whose recent slide into sandy-booted troubadour equally so. I went into this show with an open mind, but despite my best efforts, I found myself drifting, and the show’s momentum sagging whenever Oberst’s solo material took center stage, with the exception being a fairly rousing “Soul Singer In a Session Band,” which sounded a few whiskey shots shy of a drunken sing-along with the Monsters swaying in tandem.

Johnson & Oberst – Monsters of Folk :: 11.13 :: Austin

At three hours and 35 songs long, the show moved at a snappy pace, with the Monsters switching up instruments for each song, bounding on and off stage to accompany each other’s solo material, or just simply hanging back and taking it in out of the spotlight. Oberst would jump up and hover over Johnson’s kit, Ward would practically stick his face in the keys while he jangled, and James would throw his head back behind the mic and let that otherworldly voice pour out into the Texas night, while Mogis snaked between them all, armed with his chosen axes. During “Golden,” MMJ’s love song to humble barflies everywhere, the other Monsters huddled up behind James, circling the drum kit like it was a campfire. Oberst and Ward leaned in close with their guitars to sing, “Try as you might to fight it/ Love will get you in the end,” during Ward’s “Lullaby & Exile.” Oberst strained to meet a pitch near James when the two joined forces for MMJ’s “I Will Be There When You Die,” but it was a reminder that in the end these cats are just longtime fans of each other.

The thread tying the distinctive voices together was Mogis, whose chameleon-like instrumental skills were masterful no matter what weapon drawn, be it mandolin, lap slide or electric guitar. Masterful, but never showy, giving each song precisely what it needed. Equal props should be given to Johnson, who’s drumming was beat perfect, pumping adrenaline straight to the vein or simply slipping in the background, leaving a bass drum to tickle your toes. He even got a chance in the spotlight for his own genuinely tear jerking “Just To Know What You’ve Been Dreaming.” That’s how you win her heart, fellas. These two provided a constantly shifting foundation, and watching them work was a real joy.

M. Ward – Monsters of Folk :: 11.13 :: Austin

Most of the material from the Monsters’ record grew some real legs live. Despite the co-writing credits, I think it’s fairly obvious whose fingerprints are all over the candlestick for most of those tunes; for good – album opener “Dear God (Sincerely M.O.F.),” which is driven by the spiritual soul man James – or ill – “Man Named Truth,” whose title alone signals that it’s an overwrought Oberst effort. “The Right Place” is the kind of country jangler made for a raucous show environment, if for nothing else but to evoke cheers and backslaps when the band asks, “Do you like where you’re living?” Looking around at my fellow Austinites, there was no way to answer but, “Hell yes!” The molasses of “Slow Down Jo,” features Ward’s choice words to a drug-addled friend, as James slipped behind his dreamlike vocals with ninja precision. It fell flat on the record for me, but live it had room to stretch. “Whole Lotta Losin’” reminds me a bit of “Walk of Life” by Dire Straits, but that’s hardly a bad thing, and it was muscular enough to wrap itself around my brain for a good few hours after our collective gravel bounce ended. The closer, also the last song on the record, “His Master’s Voice,” was stunning, beginning in a shimmer, building to a squall, and ending on skitters, skatters and spaceship squeals before the Monsters slipped out behind the stage smoke, back into the shadows.

At various times during the show, James introduced each member as “my son,” and the show was indeed more a display of familial love than shrapnel from stars colliding. It was refreshing to see the enthusiasm that the three songwriters displayed as the show slipped into each other’s worlds. It will be interesting to see if this project, years in the making as is, evolves from here, but for now I just remain struck by how this felt like the most intimate show I’ve seen at Stubb’s Outdoors. It could have something to do with the simple but rich light show that illuminated the whole crowd like we were huddled in an indoor theater. It could have been the crystal clear sound, even when I found myself at the farthest flung back corner bar at one point, which I think had something to do with the Monsters bringing extra equipment to beef up Stubb’s system.

Ultimately, it was the easy nature that the group reverberated, the feeling that no matter where you’ve come from in the wide geographies these three songwriters have drawn, you’re welcome at their family table. Casting a glance around the diverse crowd drove that feeling home, as I basked in the glow of a spacious, stripped-down rendition of “At Dawn,” and in that moment you can bet I was thankful.

Monsters of Folk :: 11.13.09 :: Stubb’s BBQ :: Austin, TX

Say Please, The Right Place, Soul Singer in a Session Band, Slow Down Jo, Man Named Truth, Lullaby & Exile, We Are Nowhere and It’s Now, A Song to Pass the Time, I Will Be There When You Die, Golden, Vincent O’Brien, Ahead of the Curve, Wonderful (The Way I Feel), One Hundred Million Years, Chinese Translation, Smoke Without Fire, At Dawn, Baby Boomer, Dear God (Sincerely M.O.F.), Temaxcal, To Save Me, Kathy with a K’s Song, Goodway, Just to Know What You’ve Been Dreaming, Bermuda Highway, Look At You, One Life Away, Map of the World, The Sandman, The Brakeman and Me, Smokin’ From Shootin’, Losin Yo Head, At the Bottom of Everything, Whole Lotta Losin’, Another Traveling Song, His Master’s Voice

Continue reading for more pics of Monsters of Folk in Austin…

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Hoots and Hellmouth: The Holy Open Secret

November 5th, 2009 | No Comments

By: Sarah Hagerman

The family band plays the family key
Underneath the family tree
While gathering round in apple baskets
Well it’s hard to tell which ones are wombs
And which ones are caskets

A lethal combination of old timey charm and dark matter weaves through much of Hoots & Hellmouth‘s second full-length release, The Holy Open Secret (MAD Dragon). Although the band has a rafter raising energy that is imbibed with a divine fire – and a live show that will make you testify to the strength of plywood as they leap up and down on boards in lieu of drums – they definitely saunter in from the wrong side of the tracks, teetering on rails that lead towards Americana anarchy. The Philadelphia-based core trio of Sean Hoots (guitar, vocals), Andrew “Hellmouth” Gray (guitar, vocals), and Rob Berliner (mandolin, vocals), with producer Bill Moriarty (whose been behind the boards for other fantastic Philly outfits such as Dr. Dog and Man Man), utilize their kinetic muscle to the hilt on many tracks here.

From the rousing, untamed vocal interplay to the glorious mess of foot stomps, hand claps and beaten washboards to the emphatic strumming and picking, the assemblage of pieces snap together around their wildly bucking spine. Defiant punk rock shouts in “Root of the Industry” (“Hack your way to the root of the industry!”) are just as fitting as the gospel declarations in “Known for Possession”(“Brother, am I possessed?/ Well, I must say yes/ And so happy to be so”). “You and All of Us” is a rowdy, roadhouse howl, and “Watch Your Mouth” bops on an oom-pah-pah beat with a chorus surrounded by textured scats and chatter. But, there are breaks from the ruckus on dialed down songs like the plaintive “Dishpan Hands,” which paints a scene of domestic unrest that’s devastating in its simplicity, centering around a sink of dirty dishes:

I’ll get em done
And I’ll get em done right
Always looking to end a good fight
And I’ll show you the man I want to be
In the home I long to save

Peaceful ending track “Roll, Brandywine, Roll” meanwhile grounds us by the Brandywine River that flows through Southeastern Pennsylvania, closing the album out on Mother Nature’s watery whisper. Washed clean, you must say it was a smashing baptism, with mud smeared on the pews and the preacher stumbling through the aisle with stale whiskey breath. There’s something freaky about this revival, and you’ll definitely damn glad you drank the Kool-Aid.

JamBase | Baptized
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Joe Craven & Sam Bevan: Foakee

October 7th, 2009 | No Comments

By: Sarah Hagerman

Foakee (Blender Logic) opens with a refreshing version of the bluegrass gospel song “Dig a Little Deeper in the Well,” and there couldn’t be a more appropriate statement to set up this record. Crafty multi-instrumentalist Joe Craven and classically schooled pianist and jazz bassist Sam Bevan dig through a crate of beloved, timeless American folk numbers, but when the needle hits, the results pulsate with an ecstatic global soul.

It’s an enticing dance with traditional nuts and bolts and a shed full of joyful revisions, all stirred up in the duo’s delightfully freaky brains and stitched together with genuine quirk. The colors and textures swirl with kaleidoscope captivation, pieces excavated from far-flung musical locales from the Caribbean to Africa to Latin America. Utilizing a medley of instruments (to take but one example, the “canjo,” where dumpster diving meets luthiering), percussive clatters and beat box loops, the compelling pastiche, taken as a whole, defies any easy description. It’s just really darn innovative, yet utterly warm and charming. Despite this wide embrace and sticker-plastered suitcase, there’s also a real sense of intimacy here. One feels you could come upon the duo in a smoky club, where traffic rumbles and neon glitters a few steps away, or a cantina with sun bleached tiles and saltwater kissed air, or even a rickety garage tucked down a winding dirt road.

No matter where these cats are, it’s certainly off the usual maps and guidebooks. They artfully draw you into those undiscovered corners with tales and songs we know by heart – “Little Sadie,” “Sitting on Top of the World,” and the eternal “Shady Grove.” “Sadie” sounds like a salsa number, with Craven’s mando shimmying across the rhythm, “Sitting” gets a three-martini speakeasy workout, and “Shady” is sizzling with a flamenco guitar line. Meanwhile the haunting “Julieanne,” which begins in foggy mountain mystery and a chilling lonesome fiddle, ends on some decidedly urban beats that fizz on the pavement. “Nobody’s Fault But Mine” draws wry humor from the two’s contrasting voices. Bevan’s delivery on the blues classic is silky smooth over a dripping, jazzy bass line, while Craven’s public announcer throws off Orwellian lines like, “Ladies and gentlemen, your government is not to blame for the current situation in our country. Please be advised on what to do by tuning into mobile television,” and, “Those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind don’t matter,” that sound like they were delivered through a megaphone. It’s a disquieting screw in the general absurdity of the present ride we’re on, and just one of many examples of the sly slips and slides, twists and twirls that make up this a subtly radical album. Don’t let this one sneak past your radar, because it’s certainly one cool drink of water.

JamBase | Reinvented
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Yonder Mountain String Band: The Show

September 25th, 2009 | No Comments

By: Sarah Hagerman

As a continuation of the studio explorations on the previous album, with producer Tom Rothrock behind the boards again and Pete Thomas behind the kit for several tracks, Yonder Mountain String Band‘s fifth studio album The Show (released September 1 on Frog Pad – and cheers to being back on their own label) bares more rock and roll incisors in spirit and displays some surprising, unpredictable expansions. On the whole it may not shock people as much as the sonic shifts on 2006′s self-titled release, yet it still might shake some folks out of their comfort zones. But whatever color grass you may like, be it “bluegrass” “progressive grass” or “jamgrass, ” this band thrives in unrestricted spaces where such terminology becomes moot and only the heart remains. On The Show, they fearlessly run with that freedom.

Thomas adds some serious drum smash behind Dave Johnston‘s creepy “Fingerprint,” which has a grungy, crackling Adam Aijala electric guitar breakdown. Thomas adds an extra-sticky thump to Ben Kaufmann‘s sneering “Criminal” and Jeff Austin‘s ode to good-riddance “Fine Excuses.” This is not to say that every cut rolls its way into the semis for me. Despite Austin’s fiery delivery, this take on “Steep Grade, Sharp Curves” feels overcooked. It’s a complementary mood contrast to the stripped-down, almost wistful, version on the splendid Songs from the Tin Shed, Austin and Chris Castino‘s (The Big Wu) 2004 album, and this version does have the “cheap cocaine and neon lights” (instead of PG-rated “cheap drinks…” on Tin Shed) lyrics. But, the production here glosses over some of the instrumental work, particularly when the studio handclaps, a rather distracting effect that rarely serves any artist well, burst out. Contrast that with a more fitting use of production, namely Thomas’ sticks and stones on the Austin/Benny “Burle” Galloway songwriting collaboration “Belle Parker.” As much as I love the spare delicacy of the live version, that song floors me any way it’s served up – neat or with a percussive chaser – and it’s wonderful to have it handled with such richness here. Austin’s heartworn vocal delivery seeps through something strong, and the effect is as warming as a shot of Jameson and wrenching as the morning after.

The well-captured versions of “Out of the Blue,” “Casualty” and “Rain Still Falls” display the creative possibilities within a straight-up acoustic framework. “OTB” and “Casualty” also sandwich the album with two killer, ripping numbers. “OTB” is a meaty opener, keeping Austin’s salt-in-the-wound rawness on the surface, while “Casualty” is a particularly potent Kaufmann lyrical showing, with some punches like, “She wonders why I’m leaving/ And I wonder why she gives me things for free,” and this passage, which combines some “baby I’m leaving you” feel with darker implications in the shadows of the road ahead, with regrets left to cool on the window sills behind:

She’s looking for some kind of grace
In a look that might pass on my face
She don’t see it so she knows that I’ll be going
But when I’m gone please understand
It’s just that I’m the kind of man
That’s learned that you can’t stop the wind from blowing
And the only thing you’ll get from me is time
And a dim awareness something’s on my mind

As for the newest material, which has been creeping into setlists for a few months, some of it really throws you for a loop, the Johnston-penned “Isolate” probably more so than any others. As the center track, it really ties the album together. It’s strikingly minimalist, crawling slow across the floor, capturing the female protagonist’s loneliness in wrenching, claustrophobic strokes – a singular light bulb in a dark hallway, radio static, a neglected kitchen. Johnston’s voice has the lowest rumble to it of the four men, and he delivers the words slowly, letting them drip. The instruments simmer underneath, all woven around a steady, metronomic pulsation. The effect is hypnotic and utterly unlike anything the band has done before. Followed by the tight, Celtic-tinged instrumental, “In the Seam,” featuring Aijala and Kaufmann on bouzoukis, that darkness-to-light journey is powerfully executed as the track rips us out of a dim corner into brilliant sunshine.

Other interesting turns are the eight minute long “Honestly,” which starts with Aijala’s reverb-heavy vocals and shimmery instrumentation that recalls My Morning Jacket‘s “At Dawn” a bit. The music floats and stretches its wings before charging into a driving, grassy kick. It’s a prime headphone track, with skitters and scatters snaking in the backdrop. Meanwhile, Kaufmann’s “Complicated” is unapologetically poppy, but it certainly suits its writer, who can deliver earnest sincerity without sounding cloying. In the car it’s got a steering wheel slapping quality that might be dangerous if you’re trying to avoid speeding tickets, especially when that speedometer splintering Aijala solo kicks in. Finally, the willowy “Dreams,” co-written by all four, is reminiscent of a Neil Young country cut from Harvest Moon. The lonesome harmonica, coupled with background pedal effects that sound like quietly weeping steel guitars, make it perfect for closing time echoes, as slow dancers settle into each others’ shoulders, lost in a forgotten dance hall where floorboards creak and sigh beneath their feet.

It’s details like these, which unfold in brighter colors with each listen, that exhibit plentiful strokes of organic matter and strangeness in The Show, keeping it bucking without losing its heart – or balls. No matter what your reaction, you’d be hard pressed to argue that it doesn’t fit in nicely with the boys’ 11-year modus operandi of acoustic evolution. I for one wouldn’t want it any other way from YMSB.

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Friday Playlist

July 17th, 2009 | No Comments

WE GO UNPLUGGED AS OUR THOUGHTS WING NORTHWARD

This morning we find ourselves thinking of back porches and non-amplified stages, acoustic music on the brain as this year’s Northwest String Summit gets underway. Our faithful scribe Sarah Hagerman is on the scene to note the nitty ‘n’ the gritty for JamBase but we wanted to wing a 6-pack of twang speckled goodness to her, the rest of the Summit-ers and really anyone who likes a bit o’ quirk with their pickin’.

This week’s Playlist begins with the great U.K. outfit The Broken Family Band and an early love ditty from their catalog. Then, it’s enduring folkie David Wilcox to tell us about hanging loose even when things splatter everywhere. That’s followed by some hot, sweet licks from the latest Dan Hicks release, a gospel scorcher from the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band from the second Will The Circle Be Unbroken collection and a genuine classic team up of Steve Earle and The Pogues. Lastly, it’s newfangled space cowboy Devendra Banhart‘s salute to poultry.

And check out last week’s Playlist with Pavement, Regina Spektor, BLK JKS and more!


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Steve Earle | 06.19.09 | Texas

July 14th, 2009 | No Comments

Words by: Sarah Hagerman | Images by: Manny Moss

Steve Earle :: 06.19.09 :: Paramount Theatre :: Austin, TX

Steve Earle :: 06.19.09 :: Austin, TX

In 1972 at The Old Quarter in Houston, a seventeen-year-old was playing to a nearly empty room. In the front row, the songwriter he idolized was sitting with his boots propped on the stage. Although his idol had a reputation for being a quiet, sensitive soul, tonight he was certainly loud and wasted, heckling the young musician to play “The Wabash Cannonball” between each song. Embarrassment growing in his mind, the young musician finally had to admit he didn’t know the song.

“You call yourself a folk singer and you don’t know ‘The Wabash Cannonball’?!” his idol yelled.

The young man gathered his composure and proceeded to play one of his idol’s own songs, and a complicated one to sing at that. Fast forward 37 years later, and the young songwriter has since survived years of dangerously hard living followed by a productive renewal of purpose in his sobriety, his salt and pepper beard now growing long. When he played that same song on stage at the Paramount Theatre in Austin, on a steamy June evening, he ripped into it with a vicious energy, after he recounted this story. When he was done, he looked up at the audience and finished the tale.

“And then he shut up,” he said.

The song was “Mr. Mudd and Mr. Gold,” and the two men in question were Steve Earle and Townes Van Zandt. Van Zandt would become a friend and teacher to Earle after that night, and Earle’s latest album Townes, an entire album of Van Zandt’s songs, is a testament to that artistic and personal influence. Many have covered Van Zandt, who passed away on New Year’s Day in 1997, his heart weakened by years of drug and alcohol abuse. But Earle is in a unique position to share some insight into the man behind the myths.

Steve Earle :: 06.19.09 :: Austin, TX

Following an opening set by up-and-comer Joe Pug (of whom I only caught a couple songs that both displayed winning lyrical chops with a captivating stage presence), Earle took the stage, dedicating the show to Stephen Bruton, a much-loved Texas guitarist, songwriter and producer who recently passed away. Armed with acoustic guitars, mandolins and a harmonica, Earle wove his own material through Van Zandt’s in the setlist, the stripped down setting letting the hefty words of both songwriters sink in. It was interesting to notice how Earle’s demeanor seemed to subtly change as he performed the Van Zandt songs, his voice taking on a more guttural edge as he shuttered from side to side with possession. Tonight, we also sat down with Earle’s stories. Even if some stories are well repeated, like the story of their first face-to-face meeting at The Old Quarter (Earle had been working up the nerve to talk to Van Zandt for awhile before that, even watching him in awe at a birthday party for Jerry Jeff Walker he crashed, where Van Zandt showed up in the wee hours and quickly lost all his money and a buckskin jacket in a craps game), it was a way to celebrate the artistic legacy of a true genius while bringing him into a flesh and blood creature, bruises, moments of grace and all.

There’s something about Van Zandt’s writing which strikes me as sincere. It doesn’t fuck around. He would forgo heaps of twisting symbolism and artsy word play to keep things lean and deceptively simple, refreshingly naked with flab and pretension stripped away. I find his work is more devastating, more gorgeous, more graceful and more potent for that economy. Van Zandt’s words floor you with stark beauty captured in amber and then absolutely flatten your heart with a weighty fist. Earle really did his language justice in the live setting, lovingly singing the quietly sweeping love song (as much about a woman as the place itself) “Colorado Girl,” and resonating hushed despair with “Marie.” The latter, an upsetting portrait of a drifter couple, always crushes me. Before Earle played it, he said that although Townes himself came from a family with money, he “had a hard time figuring out why some people had so much and some people had so little, through no fault of their own.” Van Zandt used to bring homeless people in to feed them and give them a place to stay (even to other’s homes, when he didn’t have his own place, as Earle explained).

Steve Earle :: 06.19.09 :: Austin, TX

Earle himself spent some time homeless when he was in the midst of his drug addiction, and Van Zandt even spoke to him about his problem at one point, in a visit during which he played Earle “Marie” for the first time. As Earle described it, it wasn’t a confrontation so much as Van Zandt asking Earle if he was using clean needles, but, as he said dryly, “You know you’re in trouble when Townes comes to your house to give you a temperance lecture.” To introduce “Pancho and Lefty,” he said he decided to record it first for Townes, jokingly likening it to your first day in prison, when you take on “the biggest motherfucker in the yard” to establish your toughness.

Earle has a lot of honesty and self-deprecating humor when it comes to his own life, giving him onstage accessibility and compassion with a no bullshit edge. He would never glamorize self-destruction. His tunes wind around that scar tissue, rising to the surface with a fighting spirit. He stubbornly refuses to accept that things should be the way they are, and thank god for that. Songs like “Rich Man’s War” boil over with anger at the inherent unfairness of the disconnect between who fights and who decides, while “The Mountain” looks at mountaintop removal mining from the eyes of a miner who calls the peak home, a gorgeous mando rolling with its heartbreak. Both songs were powerfully placed in a succession of Earle tunes, including the rousing “City of Immigrants,” which he played on an octave mandolin, and the gripping Celtic string band number “Dixieland,” before he capped off the set with a one-two punch of Van Zandt’s “Lungs” and “To Live is to Fly.”

As Earle said, introducing “Lungs,” “If this doesn’t scare you, you’re overmedicated.” He exhaled its chilling vapor over us:

Well, won’t you lend your lungs to me?

Mine are collapsing
Plant my feet and bitterly breathe
Up the time that’s passing.
Breath I’ll take and breath I’ll give
Pray the day ain’t poison
Stand among the ones that live
In lonely indecision.

Van Zandt’s music is often unfairly characterized as wholly gloomy, and much of it is heavy, even frighteningly so. His blues ran deep. But “To Live is the Fly” shows his gift at capturing illumination as well as darkness, even in the midst of his transitory existence. This song always gives me heartening acceptance, hope in strong proof. We often dwell in our tragedies, run from our mistakes. We fail, fall down, fuck up, but only by lifting ourselves back up do we gain grace.

Steve Earle & Townes Van Zandt

We all got holes to fill
Them holes are all that’s real
Some fall on you like a storm
Sometimes you dig your own
But choice is yours to make
And time is yours to take
Some dive into the sea
Some toil upon the stone
To live is to fly
Low and high
So shake the dust off of your wings
And the sleep out of your eyes
Shake the dust off of your wings
And the tears out from your eyes

Earlier this year, on the night of Van Zandt’s birthday, March 7, at a wine bar down the street from my apartment, we sat outside and listened to a gentleman playing that very song. Turns out he knew Van Zandt, although not very well, he professed, but he shared a few stories with us (“The last time I saw Townes, he parked his car in the middle of the street in New Braunfels and wandered off with a bottle of vodka in his hand…”). Texans love their mythology, and it seems everyone’s got a tall tale or two about Townes in these parts, especially in these Austin streets haunted by the specter of musical legends. At one point during the show, a gentlemen sitting next to me said, his eyes turning to the Paramount’s ceiling, “You know, they say there’s ghosts in this theatre.” My goose bumps could have been from the air conditioning, but closing my eyes, as I listened to Earle sing his teacher’s enduring words, I wondered if he was right.

Continue reading for a more pics of Steve Earle in Austin…

Steve Earle is on tour now, dates available here.

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The Devil Makes Three | 06.17 | Austin

July 14th, 2009 | No Comments

Words by: Sarah Hagerman | Images by: Manny Moss

The Devil Makes Three :: 06.17.09 :: Stubb’s BBQ :: Austin, TX

The Devil Makes Three :: 06.17.09 :: Austin, TX

This ain’t acoustic music for noodling and hula-hooping, nor sitting on your ass and clapping politely. This is acoustic music you shimmy, shake, spill drinks, holler and get bruises to. Ah, but you’ll hear no complaints from me. Come get some! The Devil Makes Three, the Santa Cruz, California-based trio composed of guitarist/frontman Pete Bernhard, stand-up bassist Lucia Turino and guitarist Cooper McBean (McBean and Bernhard also switched up banjer duties for some songs), are inked up (Turino’s bull skull tattoo across her chest was giving me serious itching to get more work done), with instruments that are roughed up (McBean’s guitar looked like it had been attacked by sandpaper and alley cats, and Bernhard’s axe was sporting some serious duct tape), and they got a wicked drive that leaves rubber on the highway. That rhythm is undeniably tenacious, but a back porch storytelling soul winds, true blue, through all of it, and the freaky spikes in their jug swigs remind me of The Violent Femmes‘ country-fied material at times. DM3 are one of that blessed lot reclaiming “traditional American music” for the people, particularly the downtrodden, broke and down-and-out set, in the spirit of this sound’s originators.

Although they’ve been going for a few years now, I myself am relatively new to the fold. They sold me the first few notes into their set at Lovejoy’s, my favorite bar in Austin, during SXSW. Between that roughhousing performance, and their truly superb new album, Do Wrong Right (JamBase review here) – big cheers to them for also releasing it on vinyl – I was looking forward to seeing this repeat performance at Stubb’s indoors. They certainly didn’t disappoint. The three were blazing, at times literally, as the heat crept in to the intimate indoor bar room at Stubb’s BBQ regardless of the signature Austin Arctic AC blast, causing the sweaty band to ask for the ceiling fans to be turned on. For a Wednesday night, they drew a decent-sized and rambunctious crowd that displayed the sort of uncivilized behavior that one might see at a Split Lip Rayfield show (if that’s a double bill that hasn’t happened yet, it needs to).

The Devil Makes Three :: 06.17.09 :: Austin, TX

Newer material, like springy “Do Wrong Right,” kinetic “Aces and Twos” and spunky “Gracefully Facedown” were delivered perfectly with McBean’s Hank Williams-infused vocals, and they threw down mighty with cuts like “Ten Feet Tall” (“Get your head out of the clouds/ And your feet back in the dirt my friend” – amen!), the swinging shadows in ode to demon Jack, “Old Number Seven,” and the rib-tickling “Uncle Harvey’s Plane.” They also pulled out stellar, shit-kicking takes on “Statesboro Blues” (which is on Do Wrong Right) and “My Gal” (a well-loved traditional that Yonder fans should be familiar with). An assortment of drunks and ne’er-do-wells charmingly slam dance through their songs, but they’re also down with the menacing creep hanging around in the back alley, tapping his nicotine fingernails against a clammy brick wall. When Bernard snarled lines like, “That spirit rushing in my veins,” or bit into, “That bullet flies to carry me home,” I got me some chills. But with a hefty combination of sardonic humor and dancing steel-toed boots, their darkness only makes you shudder for so long. You won’t really have time to get the heebie-jeebies as you hurtle headfirst into the riotous moving mess of bodies.

Standing on the patio that leads from the inside bar to the yard after the show, nostalgically inhaling secondhand smoke, I couldn’t help but think of the last show I saw outdoors at Stubb’s. It was Old Crow Medicine Show, and sonically, there are certainly some similarities between the two bands, particularly reaching back into OCMS’s older, rougher sounding work. But DM3 is covered in scratchier rust as they shake the bottom of the ladder. And give me this freakishly enthused crowd over the no-dancing, CMT-watching, talking-through-the-show-while-waiting-on-”Wagon Wheel” types who seemed to infiltrate OCMS (I really dig that band, but I can’t help but think that’s what happens when you aren’t taper-friendly). Talking contrasts, at one point during the DM3 show, a skinny punk rock girl sailed over the crowd, so quick that, from what I saw, security never even caught on that there was crowd surfing afoot. Jumping on someone’s shoulders for support, she reached up for the low ceiling, scrambling across the rafters like monkey bars. I was concerned for a second, but as quickly as she did her Spiderman routine she came back down to earth, safely and agilely. DM3 just bring that out in people, gravity be damned.

Continue reading for a more pics of The Devil Makes Three in Austin…


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