Why I didn't take photos of Sonic Youth

First of all, let me stipulate that Sonic Youth is a great band. I've enjoyed their music for many years. Their new record, The Eternal, is a darned good one, and they played an excellent show Saturday night at the Vic Theatre. You can see my review of that concert on the Web site of the Southtown Star newspaper.

One thing you can't see here on my blog, however, is the sort of photo gallery I post after most concerts. I did not take any pictures of Sonic Youth. The reason is that I refused to sign a legal contract that the band's management required photographers to sign before receiving photo credentials.

Here's a little bit of background to help you understand this issue. I'm a freelance journalist, and I take photos at about 100 concerts a year (more than 300 if you count all the opening bands and festival acts). I am doing this photography largely as a hobby, rarely getting paid anything for it. I enjoy seeing live music and taking photos. Many of the concert venues I attend, including Schubas, the Hideout and the Empty Bottle, usually let anyone take photos for as long as they want. Sometimes I get into these shows for free on the guest list, and sometimes I pay. At other venues, including Metro, the Riviera and the Vic, you generally need to get photo credentials from the band, label or venue to take pictures with an SLR camera, and you're often restricted to taking photos during the first three songs.

I post photos from the concerts I attend here on this blog on also on flickr. I post anywhere from a few pictures to 20 or 30 of a band, and I leave the pictures posted on my Web site indefinitely. Bands, labels, online publications, newspapers and magazines sometimes ask permission to run my photos, usually asking for higher-resolution images — and usually offering nothing but a photo credit line in return. More often than not, I agree. Once in a while, someone offers actual money for the photos.

Some concert photographers do make money, of course. Maybe I will eventually. I daresay that many of the other photographers I know or encounter at concerts in Chicago are in a similar situation. With the rise of digital cameras, a lot of people (including me) realized we could take photos at concerts and thought, "Why not?" At times, the proliferation of photographers snapping away at a concert can be annoying, and I suppose I'm just as much to blame for that as anyone. (Hey, I do try to be as unobtrusive as possible, keeping aware of the fans standing or sitting near me.) With all these photographers out there (at least a few of whom have decent-enough SLR cameras and lenses to get good shots at dark venues, all of which will run you thousands of dollars), it's becoming hard to demand much compensation for your work. That's the law of supply and demand.

A lot of us are glad to get free tickets, the chance to photograph a musician we admire, and a little bit of attention from people commenting on our photos. I certainly don't feel entitled to get photo credentials for every concert. It's been a great privilege to shoot pictures of some fabulous musicians over the last few years. I know there are times when I won't make the cut because there's a limit on how many photographers you can cram into the space in front of the stage. You can't always get what you want, right?

Some musical acts now ask photographers to sign a legal agreement — often called a "release," "waiver" or "contract" — before they get credentials to take photos at a concert. I believe this practice is more common with big-label artists than it is with independent musicians. Out of the 300 or so musical acts I've photographed over the past year, only three asked me to sign a legal agreement: Nine Inch Nails, Nick Cave and Sonic Youth.

Most of these agreements include a clause restricting how you can use the photographs you'll take at the concert. This clause might say that the photos can appear in only one publication, and they might limit how long those photos can appear online. The agreement might also spell out some of the things you can't do with the photographs — such as selling them or using them on merchandise like posters and T-shirts.

I can see why musicians want to prevent people from making money from photographs of them. That's not something I've ever done, and I don't have any interest in doing it without permission from the musicians. And even if I don't try to profit from the images I'm posting, it's hard to stop other people from grabbing those pictures and doing whatever they want with them. They're not high-res images, however, and I doubt if anyone's going to make much money selling a poster based on a photo lifted from one of my sites.

I suspect some musicians are trying to control their image by limiting the photographs that are out there online. That's a lost cause. It's too late to stop the proliferation of concert photos online. Even when the number of professional concert photographers is limited, other fans take pictures with their point-and-shoot cameras and cell phones. A lot of those photos invariably end up online.

And it's not only a lost cause. Limiting the number of photos also hurts the musicians. The more photos of a band are out there, the more people are likely to discover that band. Fans enjoy seeing pictures of their favorite musicians, right? And how does the existence of all those online photos harm a musician? It's all publicity and attention, which helps to raise a musician's profile. Sure, not all of those photos are going to be great works of art or even flattering images, but there aren't too many photographers going out of their way make musicians look bad.

Some musicians may be using these agreements for the simple reason that they don't want to be distracted by photographers during their shows. Or they don't want their fans to be annoyed by a bunch of photographers. I can understand this, but it's something that's usually dealt with by setting rules at the venue (such as that three-song limit) or just limiting the number of people getting photo passes.

Even though I think it's silly for musical acts to ask photographers to sign agreements limiting the use of their pictures, I've agreed to sign some of these papers. When Nick Cave played last year at the Riviera Theatre, I included two publications on the form — this blog as well as the Southtown Star newspaper. I posted photos here and submitted one to the newspaper. When Nine Inch Nails played at Lollapalooza last year, I signed a similar deal, allowing me to post a picture for a limited time at the Southtown Star. I took photos but I did not end up publishing any.

Last week, I was excited at the prospect of photographing Sonic Youth. I was told I would be getting a photo pass, and I was planning to take a picture to run along with my review for the Southtown Star as well as a gallery of photos for Underground Bee.

But the day before the concert, one of the publicists for Sonic Youth's record label, Matador, told me I would have to sign a waiver before getting photo credentials.

THE LEGAL AGREEMENT SONIC YOUTH ASKED ME TO SIGN:


The first part of the "photographer release" was pretty standard stuff, similar to what Nick Cave and Nine Inch Nails had demanded. This section said:

"1. I have the limited right and permission to use certain Photos that have been approved by you solely in connection with one (1) article about you contained in [State name of publication].

"The Photos may be used only in an article, publication or other medium initially disseminated to the public within one year of the date of this agreement. I shall have no right to otherwise use or re-use the Photos in whole or in part, in any medium or for any purpose whatsoever, including, without limitation, promotion, advertising, and trade, without your written consent therefor."

OK, this was disappointing to me, but I could deal with it. I would have preferred getting permission to run photos on my blog as well as the newspaper Web site. And I'd prefer to run them for more than a year. Why take the photos down after a year? What purpose does that serve? So at this point in reading the contract, I was grumbling but still planning to sign it.

Then I got to the second section:

"2. I hereby acknowledge that you shall own all rights in the Photos, including the copyrights therein and thereto, and accordingly, I hereby grant, transfer, convey and assign to you all right, title and interest throughout the universe in perpetuity, including, without limitation, the copyright (and all renewals and extensions thereof), in and to the Photos."

WHAT?!? Sonic Youth is going to own the copyright on my photos? Now, this was a whole new level of musicians seeking control over the work of photographers. I'd heard that Morrissey was making similar demands of photographers recently, but this was the first time I'd ever been asked to sign such a deal.

A little bit of additional background. As a freelance photographer, any photographs I take are my intellectual property. In most cases, if I'm working for a publication, that publication acquires the first rights or some limited rights to run my photos, but it does not become the copyright owner of my work. The situation is different for most staff photographers working on the payroll for newspapers and magazines. Their photos are considered "work for hire," and in most cases, the publication itself owns the copyright.

There's also something called publicity rights. The basic idea is that the person in the picture has publicity rights. This is what prevents someone like me from sticking a photo I took of Sonic Youth on a billboard endorsing Snickers bars or whatever. As I see the law (and I'm no lawyer or intellectual-property-rights expert), there is bound to be some tension between the photographer's copyright on an image and the publicity rights of the person inside that image anytime you try to make a profit from the picture. But that's a legal question for another day.

The one thing I do know is that any artist should be very reluctant to sign over a copyright on his or her work to anyone else, whether it's a photograph, piece of music, book or whatever. When the University of Illinois Press published my book, "Alchemy of Bones," in 2003, I made sure that the copyright was in my name. The idea that Sonic Youth would completely own all the creativity and work I put into my photographs was totally unacceptable. Why even bother taking the pictures? Now, if the band or record label was paying me to take photos and then keeping the copyright on the images, that would be another matter.

That second section of the contract went on:

"I agree that you shall have the right to exploit all or a part of the Photos in any and all media, now known or hereafter devised, throughout the universe, in perpetuity, in all configurations as you determine, without obtaining my consent and without any payment or consideration therefor."

So, now the band is spelling out the fact that it could use my photos on album covers, posters, press releases or whatever it wants without paying me anything. That hardly seems fair, does it?

The legal agreement continues:

"I understand that you will give me appropriate 'photo credit' where possible. I understand further that all aspects of said 'photo credit' shall be determined by you in your sole discretion and that failure to accord said 'photo credit' shall not be deemed a breach of any obligation, express or implied."

Well, gee, thanks for thinking of me. I'm so glad you might give me a photo credit... or might not.

There's more:

"I further grant to you the right to use my name, likeness and biographical data in connection with the distribution, exhibition, advertising and exploitation of the Photos."

OK, now I don't know why the band would want to use my likeness. Maybe if I were a famous photographer. But if I were a famous photographer, I'd probably have enough clout to take pictures without signing this crappy deal.

The contract goes on ... including a section saying that "I hereby waive all rights of droit moral or 'moral right of authors' or any similar rights or principles of law which I may now have or later have in the Photos."

There was no way I was going to put myself into this sort of copyright servitude, so I told Matador Records that I refused to sign the legal agreement. I asked if I could still get a press ticket to attend the show without photo credential, so that I could write a review, and I did receive that.

I exchanged a few e-mails Friday with two publicists at Matador. They told me Sonic Youth's management had insisted on using this legal agreement, and they said they would check to see whether it could be changed. I did not hear back from them after that, and went to the concert without a camera.

It's particularly disappointing to receive this sort of treatment from a band like Sonic Youth, which has a reputation for its independent spirit. And based on everything I can see, the members of Sonic Youth really do seem to be nice people in addition to being talented musicians. I'm hoping they don't realize how artist-unfriendly their photography waiver is. I would not be surprised if this legal agreement is an overreaction — an attempt to protect the band from unauthorized photography sales that goes too far. It's a sledgehammer approach.

And so, in lieu of any photos from Saturday's concert, I present some photos I took of Sonic Youth when they played at the 2007 Pitchfork Music Festival. The band let me and a bunch of other photographers take pictures that time without signing anything. Imagine that. I suppose these two-year-old photos (not my greatest work, I freely admit) are an example of the pernicious sort of old pictures floating around on the Internet, harming musicians by their very presence, which this legal agreement was designed to prevent. Here they are. I hope it doesn't hurt too much, guys.

Sonic Youth review

My review of the concert by Sonic Youth Saturday (June 27) at the Vic Theatre is online at the Southtown Star's Web site at http://www.southtownstar.com/concerts/1645365,063009sonicyouth.article

The Feelies Are Back

This was one musical reunion show I was really looking forward to, and it did not disappoint. The Feelies played in Chicago last night for the first since putting out their fourth record in 1991. I saw them only once back in the day, and that concert was a bit truncated because one of the band members was ill. So it almost felt like I was seeing them for the first time when they took the stage June 29 at the Pritzker Pavilion in Millennium Park. (Another fabulous free show at this lovely venue!)

The Feelies do their thing without a lot of fuss or showmanship, so it somehow seemed apt that the band came onstage and then paused for a minute to work out some technical difficulties, not saying anything to the audience. And then, they suddenly burst right into the opening chords of their 1991 song "For Awhile." What followed was an almost-perfect run through of great tunes from all four Feelies albums: Bill Million's trademark chords strummed over and over, Glenn Mercer's cool, understated vocals, bassist Brenda Sauter's melodic bass lines, Mercer's tuneful, piercing guitar solos building on top of those cycling chords. And of course, those Feelies rhythms. And some songs, the beat stayed steady as drummer-percussionists Stanley Demeski and Dave Weckerman kept things constantly shaking. And other tunes, the beat began slow then accelerated, as the band seemed to shift again and again into higher gears. A song might being like pastoral folk rock and end in a frenzy.

Towards the end of the show, a young man dance his way into the empty area between the front row and the stage, twitching with the sort of spastic moves that looked perfect for the jerky sounds of songs from the first Feelies album, Crazy Rhythms. A park security guard led this fellow away, but he came back a minute later and continued dancing. That seemed to open the flood gates, as people jumped to the front area of the pavilion and started twitching along. Feelies lead singer and guitarist Glenn Mercer seemed to revel in the moment, coming out to the edge of the stage for guitar solos inches away from the upraised hands of fans (some of whom looked way too young to remember the last time the Feelies were around).

The Feelies played two new songs, both of which sounded like they'll be great additions to the band's discography whenever it gets around to recording them. The group encored with two rousing covers: R.E.M.'s "Carnival of Sorts (Boxcars)" and the Velvet Underground's "What Goes On" (which the Feelies originally did on the 1988 record Only Life), plus their own song "a Cé-La." And then something wonderful happened that you don't see often at the Pritzker Pavilion — a second encore. People clapped and even pounded on the edge of the stage, making quite a racket. They would not let the Feelies leave without at least one more song. And so the band came back out and did another cool cover, the Rolling Stones' "Paint It, Black."

At one point during the show, Sauter told the crowd, "Thank you for waiting 20 years." It was a long wait, but it sure was great to see and hear the Feelies playing last night in front of an adoring, lively crowd.

Photos of the Feelies.

(I'll post photos and blog soon about the other bands I saw Monday at the Pritzker Pavilion, Feelies opening act Icy Demons and the noontime act, Black Moth Super Rainbow.)

Reviews of June 19-22 concerts

I'm not quite as swamped with concerts this week as I have been lately, but here are a few good ones that happened in recent days.

Soy Un Caballo sounds like the name for a Spanish band, or maybe a New York pretending to be a Spanish band. The group's name is Spanish for "I Am a Horse." But this male-female duo is actually Belgian, and they sing most of their songs in French. They were delightful Friday night (June 19) at Schubas, playing a set of delicate songs on guitar, bass and vibes with pretty vocal harmonies. "It's very courageous of you to take French lessons on a Friday night," one of them remarked. Courageous? Hardly! The band happens to be on a Chicago label, Minty Fresh, which has a history of finding great bands from overseas. Check out Soy Un Caballo's music at www.myspace.com/soyuncaballo.

Photos of Soy Un Caballo.

On Saturday night (June 20), the Empty Bottle had a strong, if somewhat mismatched, triple lineup. The headliners were O'Death, who got the crowd dancing like it was a real hoedown, while the band cranked out bluegrassy music with punk attitude. Ah, but a little bit of O'Death goes a long way for me. The fans loved it, anyway. The middle act on the bill, and my main reason for being there, was Tiny Vipers, the singer-songwriter also known as Jesy Fortino. She has some really nice songs, but they're very quiet songs, and alas, the Bottle crowd was really chatty, making it almost painful at times to watch Fortino straining to be heard about that din. At several points, a big "shush" went up, and people shut up for a few minutes. The acoustic guitar picking and plaintive singing sounded beautiful... whenever I could hear it. (You can hear some of it here: www.myspace.com/tinyvipersss) The first act of the night was Balmorhea, an ensemble from Austin, Texas, that plays songs falling somewhere between chamber music and rock. It was pretty and mellow, though maybe a little too mellow. Balmorhea is practically an instrumental band, with vocals on only a few songs, but it was the ending of the show, when the members all came together and sang a cappella, that really stood out for me.

Photos of O'Death, Tiny Vipers and Balmorhea.

Monday (June 22) was another night with great (and free!) live music at the Pritzker Pavilion in Millennium Park. It's kind of hard to believe that Chicago city officials are cool enough to allow things like a concert by the Dirty Projectors to happen in a beautiful, world-class venue like the Pritzker. I guess that's because the city government (for all of its many faults) has a smart Cultural Affairs Department. This particular show featured those indie-rock darlings from Brooklyn, the Dirty Projectors, opening for a stalwart Chicago act, the Sea and Cake. At least in the front part of the pavilion, it was clear that most of the twentysomething fans who rushed to get seats when the gates opened were Dirty Projectors fans. I overheard some of these kids saying that they didn't even know who the Sea and Cake were, and some of them did not stick around for the headliners.

The Dirty Projectors have intrigued me on the two previous times I've seen them, but at times, their music seemed like not entirely successful experimentation. They're getting more press now, thanks in part to collaborations with Björk and David Byrne (neither of whom was present for this show, of course). And boy, the Dirty Projectors really connected this time. With an expanded lineup, the band is doing a lot more with vocal harmonies — really peculiar but very precise harmonies, with intervals, overlapping patterns and spot-on timing. It's easy to see why Björk would want to work with them. I was wowed by the sound of those voices, which seemed almost like a programmed effect than an organic piece of singing happening right in front of me. The guitar melodies were striking, too, with lots of African style skewed into strange new territory.

The Sea and Cake finished the show with a pretty good set, though as always, I find myself wishing that this band would break loose a little bit. They're very talented, and their songs are smart compositions with inventive chords, but it's always tamped down. The one thing that wasn't tamped down was drummer John McIntire, who grimaced and made all sorts of intense expressions as he hammered away.

Photos of the Dirty Projectors and the Sea and Cake.

UPDATE: I was too busy today to pay attention to Twitter or anything like that, so I overlooked the news that the Dirty Projectors had been in a car accident. Everyone is reportedly OK. http://pitchfork.com/news/35710-dirty-projectors-in-car-accident/

Faiz Ali Faiz at Pritzker Pavilion

You didn't have to understand the language or know the tenets of Sufi Islam to feel the power of Faiz Ali Faiz's singing Thursday evening (June 18) at the Pritzker Pavilion in Chicago's Millennium Park. This was, quite simply, an amazing vocal performance. by a Pakistani singer making his Chicago debut and touring the United States for the first time. More often than not, Faiz Ali Faiz sang with such full-on force that his face contorted and turned red with exertion. As he sang, his hands were in constant motion, making gestures that seemed almost like a game of pantomime.

Accompanied by tabla percussion and the droning chords of harmoniums, Faiz Ali Faiz engaged in a sort of call and response with the three other singers in his group — he was dressed in a shiny blue sort of tunic, while all of the other members of the ensemble were in matching gold-brown outfits. Most impressive of all was the way the music's rhythms ticked and clicked into delightful and unexpected patterns. That was when Faiz seemed to take his vocals to even higher levels, singing in percussive, cycling series of notes that sounded like musical tongue twisters. The crowd broke out into applause at these moments and fans rushed forward, tossing dollar bills onto the stage.

Faiz paid tribute to the late Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, the most famous artist in this style of singing, which is known as Qawwali and is based on the inspirational verse of Sufi poets. Near the end of the concert, Faiz performed "Mustt Mustt," Khan's best-known song, which generated another big round of applause. (Massive Attack's remix of the song was once used in a Coca-Cola commercial.) By the time Faiz finished his encore, the stage was littered with money.

Photos of Faiz Ali Faiz.

Hey, Chris Mills and Sally Timms

Hey, Sally Timms: When are you going to release another solo CD? I'm asking because that set you played Sunday night (June 14) at Schubas sounded awfully good. And, well, it's been a while.

Timms had a five-piece band playing behind her, with a delicate mix of banjo, mandolin, guitar, stand-up bass, clarinet, trumpet and drums, for a folky yet slightly jazzy sound. She played songs by her pal (and fellow Mekon) Jon Langford and others... even a cool version of the Mekons song "Corporal Chalkie." And, as always, she had a delightfully wry and self-deprecating sense of humor.

She was the opening act for Chris Mills, which reminds me...

Hey, Chris Mills: Could you move back to Chicago? OK, I'm sure you have your reasons for being in New York, but you're such a good singer-songwriter that I'd love to continue claiming you as one of Chicago's best. Maybe I'll continue claiming you anyway.

Mills was back in town for a one-off solo gig because he had a wedding to attend. (He played "In the Time of Cholera" at the wedding ceremony, apparently getting some puzzled looks from people unfamiliar with his music who saw that title in the program.) Mills is probably at his best when he has a full band playing him — one of the best things about this CDs is the lush and creative arrangements — but his songs also work really well as solo acoustic numbers. And that's what he delivered Sunday night, singing in full-throated gusto.

Photos of Chris Mills and Sally Timms.

PJ Harvey and John Parish

PJ Harvey has never disappointed me any of the five times I've seen her in concert. Each of those shows has been riveting. I'm not sure anything will ever compare with the deeply moving and cathartic experience of seeing her perform just a few days after the traumatic events of 9/11, but every other Harvey show that I've seen has been memorable in its own way.

She was back in Chicago on Friday night (June 12) after an absence of too long. It was too bad she did not come here to play the songs from White Chalk when that album came out in 2007, but it sure was cool to see her again now, playing in tandem with musical collaborator John Parish. Their second album as a duo, the recent A Woman A Man Walked By, is a great record — better than their first collaboration, the 1996 CD Dance Hall at Louse Point. That one was a fine record, but it had the feeling of a side project, of two artists experimenting toward a combined sound. They've arrived at that synthesis this time around, with Parish writing strong and distinctive music and Harvey delivering striking words and vocal melodies.

As a live act, it's strange to even think of them as a duo. Harvey is clearly the focus of everyone's attention. Parish gets equal billing, but he stands there somewhat shyly just playing his parts. What else could you do if you're on the stage next to Polly Jean Harvey? She's one of those stars who's beautiful in an unusual way, musically talented in so many ways, with a strong personality, who can make her presence felt with the smallest of gestures. At many moments Friday night, Harvey was doing little more than standing there at the microphone, calmly and coolly ... what, waiting? Pausing? Meditating on the next note she would sing? And even in such minimal moments, she seemed like a lively presence on the stage.

And then at moments, the contemplative music gave way to outbursts of ferocity — as on the new record's lacerating title track. Harvey dropped her voice to dramatic depths or let it soar to lovely highs, as the characters from her lyrics seemed to possess her. She sashayed and gestured across the front of the stage as she poured out her passion — and then danced all around her backing musicians as the song segued into its instrumental coda, the intriguingly titled "The Crow Knows Where All the Little Children Go." For a moment, the spotlight fell on Parish as he played an extended guitar solo, a timely reminder of the fact that this is the guy who wrote all the music we were hearing tonight. On another intense new song, "Pig WIll Not," Harvey barked like a dog into the microphone — as if normal singing was simply inadequate to contain what she needed to express.

This was a more satisfying concert than the similar show Parish and Harvey performed in March at SXSW — partly because the songs were more familiar to me now, and partly because they played a little longer, adding a few songs and stretching out some of them. It was still a bit short as concerts go, and I would have loved to hear some of Harvey's solo music, but it seemed appropriate that this was a night for showcasing the invigorating music she's doing with Parish.

I did not take photos Friday night, but you can see a couple of beautiful pictures by Kirstie Shanley on flickr here and here. And the photos I took of Harvey and Parish at SXSW are on my blog here, with several extra photos on flickr here.

A week full of concerts

Phew! Eight concerts in the last seven days! And it's been quite a run of good shows. Summing up what I've seen the last few days...

Art Brut was in town for five straight days of concerts at Schubas. I love it when a band does an extended stand at a smaller venue rather than doing one show in a bigger room. It takes more of a commitment from the band, but the result is that more fans get to see the group up-close in an intimate space. And the guys in Art Brut are always such fun, I gladly would have seen them more than once this week if there hadn't been so many other good shows to see. I saw Art Brut on Tuesday (June 9), when the opening act was Team Band, a Chicago group trying very hard to be like Art Brut. Hey, what the heck — Art Brut leader Eddie Argos has previously suggested creating Art Brut franchises in various cities. Argos even joined Team Band onstage for one song, singing the lyrics he'd just learned a short time earlier.

At times, Art Brut has seemed almost as much of a comedy act as a rock band, thanks to Argos' cheeky, self-referential lyrics. I'm enjoying their third and latest CD, with the terrific title Art Brut Vs. Satan, and Tuesday's show was an energetic blast of very English punk rock, with a mix of catchy choruses and Argos' humorous patter in the verses. As usual, Argos kept on referring to the band in the third person — "Ready, Art Brut?" — and he was sweatily leaping around and gesturing like mad. A highlight was the moment when he used his microphone cable as a jumping rope. It was a slight disappointment not to hear full-length versions of the classic Art Brut tracks "Formed a Band" and "Top of the Pops," but Argos slyly dropped pieces of those choruses into other songs. And Argos served up not one but two songs about "D.C. Comics" — the actual song with that title, plus a completely reworked take on "Modern Art" that replaced most of the references to modern art with comic books instead. By the end of the week, Argos posted a Twitter comment about how much he was going to miss Schubas.

Photos of Art Brut and Team Band.

On Wednesday (June 10) I was at the Empty Bottle to see Pink Mountaintops, a side project by the leader of Black Mountain, Stephen McBean. Or is it fair to call it a side project? I mean, he's done three records under the Pink Mountaintops name and just two under the Black Mountain moniker. Black Mountain may be the band he's best known for, but he saves some excellent songs for Pink Mountaintops. On the previous Pink record, Axis of Evol, I had some trouble discerning exactly what the difference was between McBean's Black and Pink projects. The difference is clearer on the latest CD, Outside Love. The songs are more concise than the typical Black Mountain jam. Some of them have a hard and fuzzy sounds reminiscent of the Jesus and Mary Chain and others are more like country rock. It all sounded very nice in concert, and we were also treated to a couple of good opening bands. Quest for Fire (including a couple of musicians who also played with Pink Mountaintops) played jammy guitar rock reminiscent of Black Mountain, while Suckers played intriguing rock with a touch of glam and psychedelia.

Photos of Pink Mountaintops, Quest for Fire and Suckers.

Thursday (June 11) was a really special night at the Empty Bottle, with a great double bill of Vic Chesnutt and Jonathan Richman. Sitting alone on the stage in his wheelchair, hunched over his acoustic guitar, Chesnutt managed to get the normally chatty crowds at the Bottle to listen intently to his quirky and heartfelt songs — he did pause one song to point out some "chatties" in the crowd, joking that the young ladies were talking about how handsome he is. Chesnutt introduced a few songs by noting that he had written them recently and might forget the chords and lyrics. And he did say "sorry" a few times as he tried to find his way through the songs, starting them over again. That's the sort of uncertainty that can seem like a fault for many performers, but Chesnutt was so casual about it that it actually heightened the feeling that this was a performance akin to watching him in his living room. As he remarked at one point, "I know I'm going to fuck this one up but that hasn't stopped me yet tonight." Chesnutt said he's recorded new music with both Jonathan Richman and Silver Mt. Zion. He closed with a song that he dubbed "the epic one" — "Worst Friend in the World."

He was followed by Richman, who was — well, he was Jonathan Richman, a singular and strange guy. Very entertaining in his own way. If you go to see a Richman concert in the hope of hearing him do some of his early songs with the Modern Lovers, you're probably going to be out of luck. And I have to confess I haven't kept up with his recent records, so I wasn't that familiar with the songs he played Thursday. But his humor and earnestness are immediately accessible, whether or not you've heard the songs before. Richman sang some songs in French or Spanish, and his acoustic guitar playing all night had a Spanish flair to it. He often let the music fall into an improvised groove with drummer Tommy Larkins. As Richman noted at one point during an extended riff: "This isn't a song or anything. It's just a beat." Richman occasionally set down his guitar and picked up a cowbell or some jingle bells and pranced around on the stage, making some percussion. His eyes remained wide all night, as he seemed to be staring into the faces of individual audience members (including me)... And every few minutes, that stare would give way to a childish grin.

Photos of Jonathan Richman and Vic Chesnutt.

One more concert to report on: PJ Harvey and John Parish Friday at the Riviera. More on that later...

St. Vincent at Millennium Park

A great season of free concerts is under way in Chicago, including a number of noteworthy shows in the beautiful Pritzker Pavilion at Millennium Park. St. Vincent (a.k.a. singer-songwriter Annie Clark) performed last night (June 8) beneath architect Frank Gehry's curving metallic folds, with an appreciative audience and the Chicago skyline spread out before her. Looking out at that tableau, the wide-eyed Clark marveled, "Look at this place. It's ridiculous!"

St. Vincent was ridiculously great, too. I saw her play three decent shows as an opening act when she was touring to support her first album, but her second record, Actor, is quite a step up from that first effort. It could end up being one of 2009's best CDs. The intimate show she played this spring at the Hideout was so cool, but it was nice to see her playing this time with a full complement of backing musicians. At one point, not one but two of the musicians were playing clarinet!

Although she did play some music from her first album, opening with the title track, "Marry Me," St. Vincent focused on the new stuff last night. The songs sounded lush, almost orchestral, with St. Vincent's lovely voice floating through the dense arrangements, delivering literate lyrics that showed a sharp sense of humor as well as some occasional dark thoughts. But the music never stayed in one pretty place for long — St. Vincent let loose with noisy, angular electric-guitar solos on many of her songs. The noise was beautiful, too.

The opening act, Chicago band Allá, was a good match for St. Vincent, playing some long psychedelic and minimalist jams. It's nice to see Millennium Park featuring some local bands on its schedule. Just hang out this summer at the park and you'll hear a ton of great music of all sorts. Check out the schedule at www.millenniumpark.org. One can't-miss show is the Feelies on June 29.

Photos of St. Vincent and Allá.