M. Ward at Park West

As a big fan of M. Ward, I found myself torn when I try to decide which is better – Ward performing a solo concert, or Ward playing with a full band. His concert at Metro in September featured a full backing group – with two drummers, even – and the show rocked with a great, loose vibe. Last night, Ward was back in town, playing by himself this time. What’s interesting is that Ward holds back a little bit on his guitar virtuosity when he’s with the band. Yes, he does some fantastic work on the guitar (mostly electric when he’s with the band), but he also lets the other musicians do their stuff and takes his hands completely off the fret board at times when he’s singing. I was pleased to see a Yamaha grand piano sitting on the stage as I walked into the Park West last night. Seeing Ward play a few songs on piano at a 2004 solo concert at Schubas was memorable – this guy is a pretty good piano player in addition to being a master of fingerstyle guitar.

The opening act was Freakwater, and their backwoods old-time country harmonies sounded great drenched in reverb on the Park West sound system. I’d seen one other Freakwater performance that fell a little flat in a noisy bar with a subpar sound system; Janet Bean and Catherine Irwin sounded so much better last night.

Playing the same, worn-looking Gibson acoustic guitar he’s been touring with since the first time I saw him, Ward walked out and without a word of introduction began playing one of his signature songs, the instrumental guitar showcase “Duet for Guitars No. 2.” (Not actually a duet, obviously.) I like the way Ward combines intricate picking with loud strumming – and does it all in a very loose style that sometimes rushes or slows down the beat. Ward followed “Duet” with the first single off his 2006 album, “Chinese Translation,” another great guitar song. Then came a song I wasn’t familiar with, “Lonesome Me.”

Ward moved over to the piano for “Here Comes the Sun Again,” then he talked about his song “Today’s Undertaking” and how it’s a “rip-off” of Roy Orbison’s “In Dreams.” He played about half of the Orbison song, playing just chords with his left hand while holding the microphone in his right. Then he played “Today’s Undertaking” in the same, spare style. I don’t think the songs are really THAT similar, but I do see a common thread running through them. “Today’s Undertaking” is a great example of a song that might go by the first first few times you hear it, but then when you hear Ward doing it live, what had seemed like a slight song suddenly seems so much deeper.

After playing “Poor Boy, Minor Key,” Ward went back to guitar for one of his oldies, “O’Brien,” followed by “Out of My Head,” “Poison Cup” and “Magic Trick.” Then came a strange interlude where Ward left the stage and played the “video” he directed for “To Go Home,” which is basically just a series of credits that rolls while the song plays. He went back to the piano for another Daniel Johnston song, the haunting “Story of an Artist,” then back to guitar for “Sad Sad Song” and “Undertaker.” The encore was “Carolina,” “Let’s Dance” and “Rollercoaster.” Ward asked for a piano player in the audence to come onstage for that song, and a young guy complied. Ward showed him that song’s little bluesy piano part, and the guy played it well. And strangely enough, the concert ended with Ward leaving the stage as a loop of his guitar part continued playing and the guest pianist continued noodling on the keys for a few minutes.

David Lynch at the Music Box

(Photo by DTA Photography (VL) from Flicker.)
Sitting in a big, red chair in front of the Music Box Theatre’s old red curtains, David Lynch raised one of his hands in a fluttering motion. Those fingers kept twitching as he spoke, answering audience questions after a screening of his new film, “Inland Empire.” The movie is pure Lynch – a three-hour hallucination that perfectly illustrates the dictionary definition of phantasmagoria: “a rapidly changing series of things seen or imagined, as the figures or events of a dream.” After a somewhat coherent first hour, resembling Lynch’s previous film “Mulholland Dream,” the new film disintegrates into one long nightmare. It’s brilliant in many ways, though it’ll tax the patience of some viewers. Just think of it as a restless night of dreams in which you forget where you are and even who you are. And don’t try too hard to figure out what it all means.

Before the film, Lynch introduced musician Daniel Knox, who played an improvisation on the theater’s organ. And then Lynch unfolded a sheet of paper and recited a verse from the Aitareya Upanishad: “We are like the spider. We weave our life and then move along in it. We are like the dreamer who dreams and then lives in the dream. This is true for the entire universe.” After the film, Lynch took a seat and answered questions from his fans. The following is a nearly complete transcript, omitting some of the audience compliments and niceties.

Q: I was wondering why you didn’t work with Angela Badalamenti on this…?

A: I love Angelo Badalamenti like a brother, and I’ve worked with him on many things. It just didn’t happen that I worked with him on this one. He lives in New Jersey, and I live in Los Angeles. Like I always say, if he lived next door to me, it would have been a different thing.

Q: The sound design was fantastic as always… I was hoping you could share your thoughts on sound design.

A: In cinema, there’s many elements rolling along together in time. And so you try to get every element to feel correct based on the idea. And sound … has to marry with the picture, so … the more abstract sound effects and the music all have to work in marriage with the picture. … It’s an experiment based on the feel of the idea.

Q: What inspires you to create what you film?

A: Ideas. Ideas are the thing that drives the boat. And you’re going along, like I always say, and you don’t have an idea, and you don’t have an idea, and then, “Bingo!” There’s an idea. I get a lot of ideas. But sometimes we get an idea that we fall in love with, even if it’s just a fragment of the whole thing. And I fall in love with them because I love the idea, and I love what cinema can do with that idea. And that’s it. And if you get one idea like that and you focus on that, other ideas come swimming along and join it, and the thing emerges.

Q: In your past films, there have been some amazing, colorful cameo appearances, from Henry Rollins in “Lost Highway” to Billy Ray Cyrus in “Mulholland Drive.” I was wondering if you could comment on how these cameos come to, and what is the inspiration behind them?

A: The rule is you try to get the right person for the part. And following that, I see still photos, I work with a woman named Johanna Ray whom I love as the casting director – I work from still photos and then pick out the people that look like they might work, and then meet the people and talk to them. Billy Ray Cyrus, he came in for another, completely different role, and he was videotaped him by Johanna. I’m looking at this videotape and he’s completely wrong for the role he came in for, but I see that he can play Gene the pool man.

Q: Could you share the experience of Richard Pryor in “Lost Highway”?

A: Richard Pryor, we all love Richard Pryor. I don’t know where that came about. I’m so happy that his name came up or somehow I got the idea that he could play the owner of the garage. He was in a wheelchair at that time, but so sharp – unbelievable. You’d just turn him loose and he would riff forever. And so funny. Really great working with Richard Pryor.

Q: I’ve read that you’re optimistic about people, yet many of the characters in your films fail… ?

A: I’m optimistic, for sure. But you know, ideas come for stories and scenes… So a lot of times, there are characters that are failing pretty miserably and others that are doing OK, in a world of contrast, which is a story.

Q: I was wondering if you could talk about the work of Laura Dern.

A: Laura Dern started this whole thing. I was out in front of my house one day, and I look up and I see Laura Dern walking down the sidewalk toward me. She says, “Oh, hello, David,” and I said, “Oh, hello, Laura.” And she said, “I’m your new neighbor.” I hadn’t seen her for a while, and I said, “I’m so happy to hear this, Laura.” She said, “We should do something together again.” And I said, “Yes, we should. Maybe I’ll write something.” That’s sort of what started it. I just thought about her and started writing something. She kind of brought something out. I always say there’s the Laura Dern that lives in Los Angeles, but within her are any number of roles. She can play anything. It’s pretty incredible. I love her like family. And that one meeting started “Inland Empire.”

Q: Laura Dern delivered an excellent performance in this film, and I’m quite surprised she didn’t receive an Academy Award nomination … Do you think it’s a possibility that the Academy voters didn’t see this film?

A: Do I think it’s a possibility that they didn’t see it?

Q: Yeah.

A: Yes. It’s a big possibility. … We were a hair late supplying screeners, but we did supply screeners. I don’t know. You know, sometimes the Academy surprises and gives awards to who we think really deserves it. Other times, they surprise us in the other direction. It’s just, like they say, the way it goes.

Q: You both deserve to be on the red carpet on Feb. 25.

A: You’re a sweetheart.

Q: You were on the Alex Jones show a little while again and you had some questions about the official story of 9/11, and I was wondering if you could comment on that.

A: No. You know, we’re here to talk about “Inland Empire.” But there are many mysteries in life, and that 9/11 is one of them.

Q: Where’s the cow?

A: The cow is in California.

Q: Couldn’t make the trip?

A: It’s hard to travel with a cow.

Q: Were you influenced at all by the films of Krzysztof Kieslowski? I noticed there were a lot of scenes set in Poland.

A: No, I wasn’t.

Q: In an interview about your book, you were talking about fear…

A: Fear is part of negativity. There’s fear – there’s all kinds of words: Anxiety. Depression. Sorrow. Corruption. Violence. Crime. There’s any number of words that make up negativity. With the ability, which we humans have, to dive within, and experience this ocean of pure consciousness, the source of thought, the base of mind, also the base of matter, one giant ocean of pure, vibrant bliss consciousness – if we experience that, that experience enlightens it and we grow in this bliss consciousness. We grow in creativity and intelligence and dynamic peace, energy and power. It’s all right there within us. A side effect of growing in consciousness is negativity begins to recede. They say negativity is just like darkness. And then you say, “Well, let’s look at darkness.” And you see that darkness is nothing. It’s just the absence of something. So when the sun comes up, that light, automatically, without the sun trying, removes darkness. Just like that. This light of unity, this light of pure consciousness, rising up, and negativity begins to recede. It’s a real thing. It’s a real thing. And negativity starts to lift. And so much freedom, so much more flow of creativity comes, from learning a technique that – there are many forms of meditation, but if you are interested in lifting negativity in yourself or lifting negativity in the world, look into this beautiful thing within every human being. Unbounded. Infinite. Eternal. Immortal. Vibrant. Bliss consciousness. It’s there for everybody.

Q: Do you like George Romero?

A: I love George Romero.

Q: My question is a little bit random. What’s your favorite animal and why?

A: Well, you all saw “Inland Empire,” so maybe rabbits. Rabbits are pretty happy.

Q: Thanks.

A: You bet.

Q: I don’t have an arts background. I’m a scientist, but I’ve always appreciated your work.

A: That’s very beautiful. Arts people enjoy science, and sometimes scientists enjoy art.

Q: I read somewhere that a Biblical verse inspired certain parts of the film.

A: No, no, no. That’s “Eraserhead.” In “Eraserhead,” I was maybe two-thirds of the way through, and I hadn’t finished it. The thing was sort of there, but I didn’t know what it meant. I didn’t know what it meant for me. All the parts seemed correct, but overall, I didn’t know what it meant. I was just yearning to know what these ideas were adding up to. And that’s when I got out this Bible and just starting going through it. And lo and behold, there was a sentence, that I said, “That’s it. That’s exactly what this is.” And I closed the thing, and off I went.

Q: With “Mulholland Drive,” you said you had a moment when you didn’t see the ending at first.

A: Yes.

Q: Was there a moment like that in this film?

A: Yes. The analogy is if you are in one room and picture a man in another room, and he’s got a completed puzzle, but he’s popping one piece of puzzle into your room. And that’s the way it is with all things in the beginning – just getting pieces of the thing. And the more pieces you get, maybe sometime along the way, you start seeing something. And then it goes more rapidly from there. It just goes like that on all of them.

Q: Could you talk a little bit about your decision to use digital instead of film on this movie? Was it economic or were there aesthetic reasons, and once you started shooting with digital, did it change the way you went about making the film?

A: Digital. I started making some digital experiments for my Web site with this Sony PD150 camera, which I thought at first was a toy. I kind of liked working with it. It’s easy to work with and you see what you’re getting, and you can go to work and edit it right away. Very beautiful. And I started getting ideas for a scene, after that meeting with Laura. And I started writing the scenes and then shooting them. Getting the idea, writing it and shooting it with the Sony PD150. Not with the idea knowing that it was going toward a feature. So it was a strange way of working. Once more and more of the story started evolving, I saw that it was going to be a feature, but stuck with the Sony PD150, because I didn’t want to change horses in the middle of the stream. We did tests upresing that image and going to film. Although it’s not the quality of film, it has to me its own look, a beautiful look. And every little difference of the medium, it starts talking to you. Ideas seem to come to merit to a certain field that digital was giving. The thing about it, is it’s a small camera. Automatic focus. Forty-minute takes. You see what you get. You’re in a scene with 35mm with a big Panavision camera and a big dolly, and you’re in the scene and nine minutes if the magic is just starting to happen, you have to stop and reload. If you want to turn around, it’s like giant, heavy weight. Huge amount of loss of time. Relighting. So heavy, the lights for film. This is a dream. You go into a scene, you can go deeper and deeper and deeper. Me and the actress go deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper, no interruptions. And maybe a magical thing can happen that wouldn’t have happened otherwise. Digital is the thing. And it’s getting better every day. Film is, as I say, sinking into the La Brea Tar Pits.

Q: The title of the film, “Inland Empire,” also refers to a geographic region in northern Idaho and Washington. I understand you spent some time there when you were a child. Did that affect the way you made the film, and is that just a coincidence with the title?

A: I’ll tell you the story. I was walking to Laura, and this was after we’d gone down the road a little ways. And she said her husband – Ben Harper is her husband – grew up in the Inland Empire, which is an area they call east of L.A. And she went on to talk about where it was and all this, but my mind stopped on this word “Inland Empire.” Even though I’d heard it before, now I’m hearing it afresh. And I stop her, and I say, “That’s the title of this film: ‘Inland Empire.’” And it felt correct. Two weeks later, my brother is cleaning the basement of my parents’ log cabin in Montana and finds an old scrapbook, opens it and sees that it’s my scrapbook from when I was five years old, living in Spokane, Washington. He wraps the scrapbook up and sends it to me. I open it up. And the first picture is an aerial view of Spokane, Washington, and underneath it says, “Inland Empire.” So I had a very good feeling that it was the right title of this film.
(Photo by Joseph Voves from Flickr.)

Last Town Chorus and Tim O’Reagan

The Last Town Chorus (which is, pretty much, Megan Hickey) was one of the acts that impressed me at SXSW in 2005. (See my photos from that gig.) Ever since, I’ve been waiting for them/her to put out a second album. The wait is almost over. The sophomore record’s not out just yet, but the Last Town Chorus came through Chicago last night for a searing set of Hickey’s wailing lap steel guitar solos and matching vocals. She’s an odd talent, not easily fitting into any musical category. Folk blues describes it as well as anything, I suppose, but there’s something else in her spooky, almost gothic music. And did I mention that she’s gorgeous, too? Her set included a cover of David Bowie’s “Modern Love,” which will be on the new album.

The opening act (and the reason why some people showed up at all) was former Jayhawks drummer Tim O’Reagan, who put out a solo record last year. His music is nothing remarkable, but that’s almost part of the point about it. It’s the folk/alt-country equivalent of comfort food, good sturdy fare, nothing that’s going to knock you out of your seat, but you’ll be comfortable listening to it in any case.
See my photos of the Last Town Chorus and Tim O’Reagan.

Ana Moura at the HotHouse

This was the first fado concert I’d ever seen. Fado is a traditional style of folk song in Portugal, and Ana Moura is one of the best-known of the young fado singers. The music was new to me in this concert Jan. 25 at the HotHouse, but I found it all very lovely, with really nice vocals and accompaniment on classical guitar, acoustic bass and the mysterious instrument known as the Portuguese guitar, which has doubled strings, an open back and a tinkly sound reminiscent of the bazouki or mandolin. Moura was quick to smile, clearly enjoying herself as she sang and struck poses like a dancer. Her set included a cover of the Rolling Stones’ “No Expectations.”
See my photos of Ana Moura.

Pit er Pat in residence

The Chicago trio Pit er Pat makes some groovy, spacy sounds with keyboard, bass, drums and cool female vocals. Remind me a little bit of Broadcast, a little bit of Oneida. The group’s playing Monday nights throughout January at Schubas. I caught the Jan. 22 show and reviewed it for Spin.com (See my review). The first opening act this week were Matthea Baim, who played slow, moaning songs with backing help from some of the Pit er Pat guys, a couple of female singers and Rob “Lichens” Lowe. It was eerie and enchanting. Playing second, Lichens was even more eerie, with Lowe performing another one of his tape-loop, one-chord drones, building from bird sounds into high-pitched beautiful shrieks. He never paused, and never really finished his set – as he was playing, Pit er Pat came onstage and began playing with him, then he left as they continued. The audience finally got a chance to applaud as Lowe stood off a ways from the stage. Pit er Pat was excellent, even more impressive than they are on record.
See my photos of Pit er Pat.


See my photos of Matthea Baim.


See my photos of Lichens.

Geezers get punked

I was shocked to hear the Buzzcocks song “Everybody’s Happy Nowadays” last night, playing in the background of a commercial for … the AARP?!? I mean, the original punk rockers are getting pretty old, but it’s still pretty peculiar to hear this kind of music being used in that context. There are plenty of other Buzzcocks songs that might work well with commercials aimed at the senior-citizen crowd, including “Why Can’t I Touch It?,” “Noise Annoys,” “Just Lust,” “Orgasm Addict” and “Oh Shit!”

Buddy Guy

Somehow, I’ve missed seeing Buddy Guy play at his own club, Buddy Guy’s Legends, for all these years. And now, the club soon become history. I believe I was the first journalist to report that Guy is losing his lease and possibly closing the club for good — or at least moving — with this Dec. 24 interview in the Daily Southtown. It was a blast talking with Guy.

I caught Guy’s concert at his club on Saturday, Jan. 20, just one of 14 shows he is playing in January. He’s still amazingly spry for his age, so I suspect we’ve got many years of Guy music to come. And this guy still knows how to wring some intense, powerful notes out of his guitar. As always, Guy ventured out in the audience and out onto the street with his cordless guitar. He tossed some Hendrix (“Voodoo Chile”) and Cream (“Strange Brew”) into his set, paying tribute to these artists who were influenced by Guy many years ago. The crowd ate it up.

Incidentally, after the rest of media started reporting on the apparently imminent closing of Legends, the landlord, Columbia College, issued this press release on Jan. 9: “Chicago, IL — Mark Twain once remarked that news stories about his own death were ‘greatly exaggerated.’ So, too, are news reports about Buddy Guy’s being evicted from his “Legends” club in Chicago’s South Loop. While it is true that Mr. Guy’s lease on his current location ends in May, Columbia College Chicago, which owns the property, has taken no steps to force his immediate relocation. In fact, the college is prepared to maintain flexibility as ‘landlord’ – but not indefinitely. When Columbia acquired the property in 1999, plans were announced to construct a campus center on that particular parcel. Intended use of the site is no surprise to Mr. Guy. That intent was reinforced when the current lease was negotiated two years ago. As has been indicated in the past, the college is willing to talk with Mr. Guy about continuing to rent the facility to Legends until a timetable for new construction is identified.”

Back in December, a Columbia spokeswoman had told me the college wanted Guy to vacate the space when his lease was up, though the college was willing to be flexible and give him some additional time before he left. With the new press release emphasizing Columbia’s willingness to talk, I wonder if the college is backing off? In any case, I do hope Buddy Guy’s Legends survives, either at this location or elsewhere.

Click here or on the above picture to see my photos of Buddy Guy and opening act Carl Weathersby. (I wasn’t able to get too close to the stage at the crowded club on Saturday, so I’m not too thrilled with the pictures I took, but at least they prove I was there.)

Ron Sexsmith and Kim Taylor

Ron Sexsmith is a songwriter’s songwriter – someone who seems to be appreciated by other musicians and music buffs more than he is by the general public. I think he was supposed to be the “next big thing” at some point, but as Sexsmith mentioned on Tuesday, he never seems to graduate to venues bigger than Schubas. He said that’s fine with him – he loves playing Schubas. In this show (Jan. 16), he played a number of his great should-have-been-hits, pulling songs from just about all of his records and sounding good despite his complaints about having a cold. (He sipped tea between songs.) Here’s the set list. I’m not sure who drew the cartoon of Sexsmith.

Click here to see my photos of Ron Sexsmith.

Opening act Kim Taylor brought an impressive hush over the room with her solo set, playing spare folk rock with a touch of blues. She seems like a promising act. Her set included a fine cover of the Tom Waits song, “Chocolate Jesus.”


Click here to see my photos of Kim Taylor.

Pepe Romero at Pick-Staiger

I recently had the chance to interview classical guitarist Pepe Romero. (Read my article for Pioneer Press.) I don’t see classical guitar concerts – or classical concerts, period – nearly as often as I should. Romero’s performance on Saturday, Jan. 13, at Pick-Staiger Concert Hall in Evanston was absolutely astonishing. I’m hard-pressed to think of any guitarist I’ve ever seen who was as virtuosic. Such fluid motion in those fingers! I also loved Romero’s little percussive fluorishes, including a couple of passages where he did a classical/flamenco sort of finger-tapping – causing the strings to sound by tapping the body of the guitar, possibly brushing the edge of his hand against the strings just slightly. (Or did he even touch the strings? I couldn’t tell, but the sound it produced was haunting.) And then there was one bit of strumming where he created a sound that resembled the vibration of a snare drum – I’m not even sure how he managed to do that.

The pieces he played – Isaac Albeniz, Joaquin Turina, Federico M. Torroba, Manuel de Falla, Joaquin Malats, Francisco Tarrega, Joaquin Rodrigo, his father Celedonio Romero, himself and Agustin Castellon – were beautiful, including classical, flamenco and music that bridges the two genres. Pepe Romero introduced Malats’ “Serenata espanola” with a story about his father playing it at the age of 15, when he was already a guitar instructor, to woo his future wife. It also ended up being the final song Celedonio Romero played before he died in 1996.

Visit Pepe Romero’s Web site. (The above photo is by Antón Goiri.)

Tomorrow Never Knows at Schubas

January is a fairly slow month for live music in Chicago, so the Tomorrow Never Knows Festival at Schubas is a welcome addition. Last night (Jan. 11) was the second night of the fest – which is basically just a fairly jam-packed series of concerts not that different from what you’d see at Schubas the rest of the year. First up was Brooklyn Bridegrooms, a side project by Robert Hicks of the M’s, accompanied by his wife. The songs were pleasant enough, though they’d benefit by having more than just acoustic guitar and vocals. Next were the Bees (U.S.), a Nashville band not to be confused with the similarly named British group, the Bees or Bees Band. At moments, the ’60s-influenced pop by these Bees was quite good, especially when it got fey and tinkly. At other times, it just seemed a little bland. More variety in the vocals would help.

Dr. Dog was my main reason for attending this night of the fest. I love this band, both on record and in concert. Maybe you need to hear the songs before seeing them live to fully appreciate it, but they really pull off some sophisticated and lovely melodies, harmonies and chord changes (reminiscent of late-period Beatles… think “Don’t Bring Me Down”), while cavorting like fools around the stage. The energy is amazing.

Margot and the Nuclear So and Sos was the headliner. I’ve listened a few times to the band’s album, liking it fairly well but not quite sure what all the fuss is about this band. In concert, the band looked like a high-school band convention on stage, and the songs did come off quite well, a mix of ork pop and some emotional vocals. It reminded me a little of Okkervil River’s big-sounding moments, and, of course, the ubiquitous influence of the moment, the Arcade Fire. The crowd was really into this band, singing along with many of the songs, so it’s clear that they’ve got something good going on.

Click here or on the photo above for my photos from the concert.

The Blacks and the Thin Man Jan. 6 at Schubas

I mostly missed the Blacks when they were a going concern, recording music with Bloodshot Records, playing a sort of alt-country-rock. I saw them once. I believe they opened for the Waco Brothers at FitzGerald’s that time. I remember being struck by how odd it was to hear a woman (Gina Black) singing a cover of the Tom Waits song “Goin’ Out West,” with the chorus “I got hair on my chest, I look good without a shirt on.” And of course, the tall Gina with her big upright bass, painted with twin images of naked ladies and vines, make a big impression on me.

Since then, Danny Black’s gone on to start the band Healthy White Baby, guitarist Nora O’Connor has proven herself to be quite the alt-country siren in her own right, and the Blacks have started playing occasional “reunion” gigs. This was the first time I’d seen them since that long-ago FitzGerald’s show, and it was a nice refresher course. There’s something muscular and a little Gothic about the Black’s brand of roots rock. Gina Black’s thumping bass notes are one of the reasons it’s distinctive. The old Blacks tunes still sounded fresh last night.
Click here or on the picture above to see my photos of the Blacks.


The opening act was the Thin Man (aka Kennedy Greenrod, a Brit transplanted in Chicago). I have to admit I wasn’t all that impressed when I heard an album by the Thin Man a couple of years ago. I think that foghorn bass voice of his wore my out. But I enjoyed seeing him play live, and the songs seemed to be pretty good, so I should probably check out his recordings again.
Click here or on the picture above to see my photos of the Thin Man.

Best Concerts of 2006

As I mentioned in my post about the Waco Brothers, I ended up seeing 100 concerts and 305 musical performances (including festival shows and opening acts) in 2006. That’s a lot to sift through, and the vast majority of those shows were enjoyable to one extent or another.
My favorites were:
1. Sleater-Kinney, March 14 at Guerrero Produce Warehouse, Austin (SXSW Film Festival closing night party) (original review / photos)
2. Tom Waits, Aug. 11 at Detroit Opera House (original review)
3. The Wrens, April 29 at Schubas (original review / photos)
4. Radiohead, June 19 at the Auditorium Theatre (original review)
5. M. Ward with Oakley Hall, Sept. 8 at Metro (original review / photos)
6. Art Brut, March 15 at SXSW (original review / photos)
7. Okkervil River, Oct. 8 at Schubas (original review / photos)
8. Randy Newman, Nov. 3 at Orchestra Hall (original review)
9. My Brightest Diamond with Pedestrian and Via Tania, Nov. 11 at Schubas (original review / photos)
10. TV on the Radio with Grizzly Bear, Oct. 9 at Metro (original review / photos)

And in honor of Sleater-Kinney finishing No. 1 on my list for their blistering, intense performance that night, I am posting many, many more of the photos I shot that night. I was positioned almost perfectly at the front of the stage (perfect except that it was hard to get shots of drummer Janet Weiss), I had my new camera in hand, the music was mind-blowing, and the sights of these three ladies rocking out were fabulous. Click here to see my new gallery of 123 photos from the Sleater-Kinney … or, if you want to see all of the photos in sequence, click here for a Flash slideshow. Personally, I think the slideshow version is much cooler. Make sure to crank up “The Woods” while you’re watching. It lasts about two minutes. I did very little editing on these photos – no cropping at all, just a little brightening on a few of the images.

The other Oakley Hall

One of my favorite new bands is Oakley Hall, so I just thought I’d mention the group is named after a novelist. The only reason I read the 1958 novel “Warlock” by Oakley Hall is that I’d read somewhere it is one of Thomas Pynchon’s favorite books. I believe it’s the only real Western novel I’ve ever read, so I’m not really qualified to say how it compares with the classic genre books by the likes of Louis L’Amour or more recent novels by Larry McMurtry. But I did think it was excellent, leaning towards historical realism in a “Deadwood” sort of way.

When I read “Warlock,” one particular passage near the end of the book struck me as poetic and devastating. I’ve reread it a number of times. The character Henry Holmes Goodpasture, who narrates some of the chapters in “Warlock,” takes a despairing look at the tragic events that have transpired:

Is not the history of the world no more than a record of violence and death cut in stone? It is a terrible, lonely, loveless thing to know it and see … that the only justification is in the attempt, not in the achievement, for there is no achievement; to know that each day may dawn fair or fairer than the last, and end as horribly wretched or more. Can those things that drive men to their ends be ever stilled, or will they only thrive and grow and yet more hideously clash one against the other so long as man himself is not stilled? Can I look out at these cold stars in this black sky and believe in my heart of hearts that it was this sky that hung over Bethlehem, and that a star such as these stars glittered there to raise men’s hearts to false hopes forever?
This is the sky of Gethsemane, and that of Bethlehem has vanished with its star.

Buy “Warlock” at amazon.

Patti Smith does Debbie Boone

My YouTube find of the week is this clip of Patti Smith’s 1979 appearance on the show “Kids Are People Too.” She takes questions from the kids in the audience and then sings … “You Light Up My Life”! Man, how I hated this song when it was played incessantly on the radio in 1977. Hearing Smith sing it is surreal, and it actually made me a little nostalgic for the song.