Plants and Animals

Parc Avenue by Plants and Animals is sticking with me as one of 2008’s better CDs. This Montreal band simply has a bunch of catchy songs, and they play them with a sense of musical freedom, jamming however long they feel like jamming, but also veering off at times in unexpected directions. The songs make sense on some intuitive level, the pieces fitting together in unusual ways.

The Montreal trio was back in Chicago Friday night (March 27) for a sold-out show at Schubas, as they prepared to head to the Juno Awards in Canada. It was a strong set, featuring most if not all of the tracks on Parc Avenue and a couple of new songs as well. The drums and two guitars (or in some cases, one guitar and one bass) clicked together in a way that felt really natural and organic, and Warren Spicer sang with lots of emotion. Near the end of the show, when the audience was enthusiastically applauding guitarist-bassist Nicolas Basque as he strummed an autoharp on the song “Bye Bye Bye,” he couldn’t help the mischievous smile that crept onto his face. www.plantsandanimals.ca

I also quite enjoyed the opening set by Chicago’s Netherfriends, who played indie pop with a few psychedelic touches, trotting out the obligatory Melodica and even playing some percussion on actual pots and pans. It was a vigorous performance, well received by the crowd. www.myspace.com/netherfriends

Photos of Plants and Animals.

Million Tongues

Steve Krakow, a.k.a. Plastic Crimewave Sound, may be the leading impresario of underground rock music in Chicago — a musician in a few bands, the writer and artist behind the comic strip “The Secret History of Chicago Music,” the creator/editor of the hand-drawn magazine Galactic Zoo Dossier, and curator of the occasional festivals and concerts bearing the banner Million Tongues. The Million Tongue series returned last Wednesday (March 25) for a showcase of experimental music and garage rock at the Empty Bottle.

I should have shown up earlier, because I really liked what I heard from the band Cave as I walked in near the end of their set. The next band, a French act called Gunslingers, did some sort of noisy biker rock, which I enjoyed whenever it started to cook like a Velvet Underground jam. I didn’t really get what the legendary noise-rock artist Michael Yonkers was all about. His heavily processed guitar solos seemed mostly like random sound to me, but when Plastic Crimewave Sound joined him onstage, the music they played together sounded more like rock songs and it started to click with me a little bit.

Over on the side stage in between the main acts, we heard short sets from Ray Donato (seemed like a lot of noise to me) and Bicycle Tricycle, who played some nicely distorted songs that sounded something like “Nuggets”-era psychedelic folk rock played at the wrong volume.

Mannequin Men, who were recently mentioned on the Entertainment Weekly Web site as a band to watch, charged through some of their great punk/garage rock at the end of the night, but I was still recovering from SXSW and feeling sleepy. Did not make it through all of their set, though what I heard this time was enough to confirm my opinion that these guys are one of the better young bands in Chicago right now.

Photos from a Million Tongues event.

SXSW recap & index


My diary and photo galleries from the 2009 South By Southwest Music Conference are now complete. Here’s a list of what’s in the various diary entries. (I marked my favorite acts of the festival with asterisks.)

SXSW Diary Part 1: March 17 — Angie Mattson, Bang Bang Eche, Eddy Highway, Loxsly

SXSW Diary Part 2: Jarvis Cocker Lecture

SXSW Diary Part 3: March 18 — Hyperpotamus, Natalia Lafourcade, *The Marching Band, The Whispertown2000, The Phenomenal Handclap Band, Beast, *Sprengjuhöllin, Johnny Goudie and the Little Champions, *Loch Lomond, Grant Hart, *Mark David Ashworth, Mumford & Sons, Los Fancy Free

SXSW Diary Part 4: Quincy Jones speech

SXSW Diary Part 5: March 19 — Jump Back Jake, Abalone Dots, Justin Townes Earle, Esser, *Graham Coxon, Jay Jay Pistolet, All Tiny Creatures, *Bam Bam, The Wailing Wall, Thao with the Get Down Stay Down, The Vivian Girls, Artefacts For Space Travel, Flower Travellin’ Band, Abe Vigoda, The Wrens

SXSW Diary Part 6: March 19 — Talking with one of the Wrens, *The Lost Brothers, Cut Off Your Hands, Wildbirds and Peacedrums, *The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Woods, Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band, The Tallest Man on Earth, Echo and the Bunnymen, Nacho Vegas, *Mythical Beast, The Howlies, Fanfarlo, School of Seven Bells, The Golden Dogs, Devo, *Magic Lantern

SXSW Diary Part 7: March 20 — Edie Sedgwick, Head of Skulls, *Hey Marseilles, The Heavenly States, Girls, Delta Spirit, *Fanfarlo, Lemonade, Peelander-Z, *Camera Obscura, Electric Touch, Parachutes, White Lies, Razorlight, *PJ Harvey and John Parish, The Telepathic Butterflies, White Swan Black Swan, The Evaporators, The Black Box Revelation, Division Minuscula

For SXSW pictures, see the index in my photo galleries.

SXSW Part 7: March 21

Twitter, 12:05 p.m.: Edie Sedgwick, mustachioed guy in a dress at sxsw: “Could I get more scrambled eggs in the monitor?”

Edie Sedgwick, a transvestite singer who has adopted the stage name of an actress who was in Andy Warhol films, was on my list of acts to see at SXSW. Sedgwick (a.k.a. Justin Moyer of Washington, D.C., a founding member of Dischord bands El Guapo and Antelope), has a really cool track called “Edie Sedgwick II” — carrying on that odd tradition of bands with song titles similar to the band name.

The sxsw Web site has an interesting story about how Moyer developed his latest musical persona after suffering from epileptic seizures. He played a short set around noon at the Radio Room, with some hilarious stage banter (see my tweet above), playing up the incongruities of being a man with a mustache in a blond wig and slinky dress. He grabbed an audience member’s cell phone or camera, lifted up his dress and … well, it looked like he was going to stick the cell phone into the top of his nylon stockings, but I’m not sure if he actually went that far. The music was pretty good, but alas, he did not play that song I was waiting to hear.

I also caught a song by Head of Skulls, which was playing a set out on the Radio Room patio, overlapping with the show by Edie Sedgwick. I didn’t even realize this was a Chicago band until I recognized the bassist as Allison, a bartender at the Empty Bottle. (She’s identified on the Head of Skulls myspace page simply as “The Witch.”) The music was hard rock of the pulverizing punk/metal variety.

12:16 p.m.: I came to the Seattle sxsw [party] for the free food & discovered a cool band, Hey Marseilles. Sounds like Decemberists.

Another group I hadn’t heard of. They weren’t even an official SXSW band this year. But Hey Marseilles made a big impression on me, with some tuneful songs featuring the full complement of assorted instruments that are becoming typical these days in large indie-rock ensembles: tuba, accordion, horns, extra bass drums. They reminded me a lot of the Decemberists, although Hey Marseilles’ singer, Matt Bishop, is lot less mannered in his vocal style than Colin Meloy.

12:48 p.m.: Heavenly States are rocking the convention center cafe. OK, now here is a band I saw and enjoyed, but I can barely remember at this point. Nothing against the Heavenly States — I do think they were quite good — but it’s all becoming a blur. Here’s their song “Lost in the Light.”

1:39 p.m.: Watching a band at sxsw called Girls… which is 4 guys. Singer’s got a classic whine/sneer kinda voice.

SXSW had a band this year called Girls, and another band called The Girls. That’s not to mention Girl in a Coma, Girls in Trouble, Po’ Girl or Garotas Suecas, a Brazilian band whose name means “Swedish Girls.” Plus, there were seven groups with names beginning with the word “Golden,” seven “Hot” bands, five “Magic” acts and four “Crystal” bands. Bears remain popular, too — the festival included Bear Hands, Bearsuit and Angry Vs. the Bear.

Girls and The Girls both had good songs posted on www.sxsw.com, but the one that keeps running through my head is “Lust for Life” by the San Francisco band Girls. (That’s not to be confused with the Iggy Pop song of the same title. Are you still with me here?!?) Girls played this afternoon at the Hot Freaks party at Club Deville, and singer-guitarist Christopher Owens spent the whole show hiding his face behind his long blond hair, leaning down into the microphone and singing catchy songs in the vein of those melodic quasi-punk power-pop tunes once performed by the likes of Wreckless Eric and the Only Ones. Owens does has the classic rock whine and emotional pining of an outsider.

2:19 p.m.: Watching Delta Spirit at the Q magazine party playing a song they wrote this morning.

Delta Spirit put out one of my favorite records last year — well, actually, the record first came out in 2007, but then Rounder Records gave it a wider release in 2008. Now, it’s coming out in the U.K., too. It was nice to hear the band do a new song, and the old ones sounded as strong as ever. They were the only American band playing at the party for Q, a British music magazine.

See Part 1 of my SXSW photos from March 21.

3:16 p.m.: Seeing Fanfarlo 2nd time in 2 days. A band worth seeing many times. Did I mention that the Fanfarlo gig the previous night was almost impossible to photograph because of the dim lighting in that church? Well, this show at the Q party at the Parish was actually lit with a whole variety of colors, and the sound was excellent, and the band got to play a reasonable amount of time. At last, I feel like I’ve seen a real Fanfarlo gig.

Photos of Fanfarlo.

I headed up to the Mohawk for the Hot Freaks party — mostly to see Camera Obscura. But first, I saw the last part of a set by Lemonade, which seemed like pretty solid electronic rock. And then came an outdoor set by the goofballs in Peelander-Z, who call themselves “the Japanese Action Comic Punk Band.” I’m sure this would have been fun to photograph if I could have gotten anywhere near the stage. Listening to Peelander-Z without seeing the guys in their outlandish costumes wasn’t quite as fun. And gosh, what a bizarre lineup, putting this band on the same stage just before the lilting, pretty music of Camera Obscura.

Twitter, 4:44 p.m.: Peelander-Z was on the same stage before Camera Obscura at this sxsw party, w/ painfully loud techno music in between. Bring on the twee Scots, already!

It was a real pleasure to see Camera Obscura, whose 2006 record Let’s Get Out of This Country has stuck with me as an album I return to often. Singer Tracyanne Campbell sounded beautiful as the band played some of my favorite songs from that record as well as tracks from the forthcoming CD My Maudlin Career.

Photos of Camera Obscura.

5:43 p.m.: I am in position to photograph PJ Harvey. Now I’ve just got to make it through the next 4 bands.

OK, so I was being paranoid, but I really did not want to miss an opportunity to see PJ Harvey and to photograph her for the first time. She was scheduled to play with John Parish at 10 p.m. at Stubbs — in the midst of a mostly awful lineup. Before Harvey and Parish played, the scheduled bands were Electric Touch, Parachutes, White Lies and Razorlight. And after they played, the same stage would feature the Indigo Girls and Third Eye Blind. I guess this is the sort of thing that happens when an idiosyncratic artist like Harvey is still on a big label, Island, featuring a lot of considerably more mainstream acts. I was worried some of these bands would draw a big crowd and I would get shut out of the photo pit, so I showed up bright and early and stood through four bands I would have rather missed.

Electric Touch was a bunch of pretty boys making ridiculous poses as they played their completely generic pop music. They looked like actors who’d studied how to become rock musicians by watching bad 1980s MTV clips but without learning anything about the music itself. I could barely stand to watch this set.

Twitter, 6:11 p.m.: First band of the night at sxsw: Electric Touch. These guys are from Austin?!? They seem way more Hollywood, in a bad way. (The lead singer had a British accent, but SXSW identified them as an Austin band. I don’t care to waste any of my time finding out anything more about this group.) 7:01 p.m.: 2nd band of night at sxsw: Parachute. Bland fodder for TV. Marginally less stomach-turning than last band.

The third band, White Lies, was one that actually showed some promise. But they seemed like a corporate record label’s idea of what a “cutting edge” band should sound like. Maybe Interpol fans will like it. White Lies almost broke through all the posing and slick surfaces with the last two songs of their set, almost showing a little spontaneity.

8:34 p.m.: Eighty minutes of Razorlight is all that stands between me and PJ Harvey now… So to speak.

I did not have a very positive impression of Razorlight before this show, based on the little I’d heard. Actually, after the soul-sucking simulacrum of music I’d witnessed earlier in the evening, Razorlight did not seem so bad — just bland. And they didn’t play 80 minutes, more like an hour. By the time they finished, I was in line for the PJ Harvey and John Parish photo pit.

10:31 p.m.: Polly Jean Harvey is as unreal as ever. Great to see her again after such a long absence.

I’ve seen PJ Harvey three times before this, and she never fails to wow me as a live performer or as an artist who always stays on her own eccentric path. She has not played many concerts in the U.S. in the last several years, so this one was a must-see, one of only three American shows she has scheduled so far to promote the new album she recorded with Parish, A Woman A Man Walked By. This was not a typical PJ Harvey solo concert, if there is such a thing, since she did not play any songs from her solo records. Rather, she and Parish stuck with tracks from their new album as well as a couple from the album they recorded together in 1996, Dance Hall at Louse Point.

These records are billed as collaborations where Harvey and Parish are equal partners, but the focus is clearly on Harvey. Parish seems to like it that way, playing guitar alongside her without drawing much attention to himself. How could he compete anyway? Harvey looked as resplendent as ever, wearing a white dress with a bit of a straitjacket look to it.

Some of the songs were moody, almost eerie, and Harvey radiated a strange sense of calm as she intoned the words. Other songs had the loud, stomping quality of Harvey’s early, more punk records. In the 1996 song “Taut,” she pleaded “Jesus save me!” And the new song “Leaving California,” her voice soared way up the scale to beautiful melodic peaks. The set crashed to a climactic end with the new song, “Pig Will Not.” Over loud guitar chords, Harvey wailed, “I will not! I will not! I will not!”

It was another terrific performance by Harvey, although I would preferred to see it somewhere other than Stubbs, where half of the audience seemed to be chatting away as they waited for the Indigo Girls or whatever. And it was teasingly short, just about an hour. Still, it was a great plus to get the chance to shoot some pictures of Polly Jean up-close.

Photos of PJ Harvey and John Parish.

…And, after creating that photo gallery, I posted six additional pictures of PJ Harvey on my flickr stream.

Everything else was bound to seem anticlimactic for me after that. It was simply time to head back out into the streets of Austin, searching for more bands. Maybe I should have gone to see the Monotonix for their SXSW-closing show, which surely would have been thrilling, but I felt like using my final hours to find some new music.

11:06 p.m.: Winnipeg’s Telepathic Butterflies are raving it up with some psychedelic garage rock.

This was part of the showcase at B.D. Riley’s by Rainbow Quartz records, which has some of the best ’60s-style psychedelic and garage-rock bands going these days. The Telepathic Butterflies played a solid set of songs with ringing guitar lines that sounded like the Byrds.

12:06 a.m.: Relaxing in a hotel lobby while NZ folk duo White Swan Black Swan plays. sxsw is almost over. One … more … show…

Now, this was a weird act. A man and woman from Auckland doing semi-humorous folk songs. Sounds like the Flight of the Conchords? Well, it wasn’t that funny. Seemed almost like an act you’d see in a hotel lounge somewhere. Wait a minute, I did see them in a hotel lounge (the Victorian Room at the Driskill). White Swan Black Swan was not great, but I found them fairly charming at times, and I really appreciate the fact that you can see a group like this at SXSW. There’s no way in hell they’d ever get booked at Lollapalooza.

Even though I said “one … more … show” on my tweet, I ended up squeezing pieces of three concerts into my final hour of SXSW.

1:10 a.m.: I’m watching a masked man sing about a butter knife – Vancouver’s Evaporators. … Hmmm, well, that was sort of interesting, but a little too much shtick for me just now.

1:45 a.m.: Hopping around in my last hour of sxsw: Belgium’s Black Box Revelation, Mexico’s Division Minuscula. The Black Box Revelation was a guitar-and-drums duo that reminded me of the Black Keys, though maybe a bit more punk than that band.

I headed across the street to see the last few songs by Division Minuscula, who played some impressive guitar licks. At 2 a.m., the set ends, and for some reason, the house stereo at the Habana Bar Backyard begins blaring Billy Joel’s “Piano Man.”

See Part 2 of my SXSW photos from March 21.

2:05 a.m.: The end.

SXSW Diary Part 6: March 20

Twitter, 11:07 a.m.: I told 1 of the Wrens: Can’t wait for your new CD. His reply: “Neither can we. You got any songs?”

More on that story: The morning after seeing the Wrens play at Prague, I’m in a crowded elevator at the Hilton. The elevator stops at a floor below mine, and the doors open to reveal the four members of the Wrens standing there. There isn’t enough room for all of them to get on, but Kevin Whelan jumps inside, leaving behind his bandmates. “Well, that’s it,” I say to him. “I guess your band’s broken up.” Whelan, who was smiling and acting as if I were an old buddy of his, laughs. I tell him I enjoyed the Wrens show last night

And then comes that exchange I Twittered about above. I add: “You played a couple of news songs last night, didn’t you?” Whelan says: “Yeah. We were just messing around.” Whatever he says, the band is recording a new CD — finally!

11:45 a.m.: Watching the Lost Brothers. These guys are like a young Irish Everly Bros. Fab voices.

This was over at the Full Irish Breakfast party at B.D. Riley’s. This Liverpool-based Irish duo (according to their sxsw bio, “Mark Mccausland and Oisin leech.- otherwise known as bark and bosh”) sing in sweet harmony. I couldn’t help thinking of the Everly Brothers as I watched them, though their music is on the folkier end of the Everly spectrum. I liked this performance so much that I bought the Lost Brothers’ CD Trails of the Lonely (Parts I & III) from one of the guys as soon as they’d finished singing. The following night, I would run into the Lost Brothers in the audience at another gig. They’d had a fair amount to drink by that point, and when I asked one of them, “You guys aren’t really brothers, are you?” he said, “Sure we are!!!” Here’s the Lost Brothers song “Angry at the Sun.”

I spent the afternoon zipping around to various parties. Over at the SPIN magazine party at Stubbs, New Zealand’s Cut Off Your Hands were sounding loud and aggressive on the Stubbs stage. Not really my thing. When it comes to noisy Kiwis this year, I preferred Bang! Bang! Eche!

Wildbirds and Peacedrums, a duo from Gothenberg, Sweden, was playing in the Sweden Goes SXSW at Habana Calle 6. I enjoyed this group’s album from last year, Heartcore, which has an unusual mix of atmospheric textures and hard-hitting rhythms. They were an interesting band to see live, with nothing other than drums and vocals. Mariam Wallentin has a brassy voice, and she seemed at times to be throwing it up against the clattering drum patterns from her partner, Andreas Werliin, while adding in some of her own percussion. I’m looking forward to hearing the new album by Wildbirds and Peacedrums, The Snake. Here’s the Wildbirds and Peacedrums song “Doubt/Hope.”

Twitter, 2:04 p.m.: Pains of Being Pure at Heart is playing at a day party. Sounds stronger than the record, very catchy.

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart are one of the indie-rock bands with the most buzz right now. They played at Schubas in Chicago not long ago. Not realizing how much hype they were getting, I failed to get a ticket ahead of time and discovered that night that they’d sold out the show. At SXSW, the Pains seemed to be playing everywhere. I caught them at a party hosted by Pitchfork at Emo’s Jr. Skeptics are calling the Pains “this year’s Vampire Weekend,” to which I say: “No!!!” While I thought Vampire Weekend was last year’s vastly overrated buzz band, the Pains sound nothing like that group.

And while I don’t think the debut CD by the Pains is a masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination, it is pretty enjoyable. And the band was even better as a live out, cranking up the fuzzy feedback and playing those songs with more energy. It’s loud, with a touch of that shoegazer sound, and quite melodic, too. Here’s the Pains of Being Pure at Heart song “Come Saturday.”

See Part 1 of my SXSW photos from March 20.

2:35 p.m.: Band called Woods sounds like Canned Heat + psychedelic tape effects.

Not being too familiar with Woods, I wasn’t sure what to expect at this show, which was in Emo’s main room. I checked out their myspace page and loved the songs I heard, but those ones have a female vocalist. And it’s obvious that singer isn’t part of Woods’ current incarnation, which is all-male. One member of Woods knelt on the stage, taking cassette tapes in and out of a machine and singing background vocals into what looked like headphones, adding a layer of weird effects while the rest of the band played jammy roots rock that sounded like something out of the late ’60s or early ’70s.

The group describes its music as: “lysergic & infectiously bent acidfolk pop grooving with motorik percussion, cracked fuzz, unique vocal gush, and burning psych jams… plus enough sweet hooks to get yr next freakout party moving right.” That’s as good of a description as I could come up with, though I’m not sure when my “next freakout party” is going to happen.

3:59 p.m.: Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band: looks like a barbershop quartet, sounds like Modest Mouse.

Playing on the most mundane-looking stage at SXSW, the Convention Center’s café, the members of Mt. St. Helen’s Vietnam Band looked around and asked, “What is this place?” (Or words to that effect.) They then ripped through three or so songs with a lot of passion and energy. And yes, they were wearing matching vests. They did look like they were about to harmonize to some songs from the 1890s or something, but their sound is nothing like their look. The Seattle group’s debut CD is on the Dead Oceans label.

I also saw the tail end of the cafe performance by Dublin’s One Day International before Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band took the stage, but not enough to form much of an opinion.

4:19 p.m.: The Tallest Man On Earth is not *that* tall. Pretty good folk rock by a guy from Sweden. This was another show at the café. The Tallest Man, a.k.a. Kristian Mattson, performed his solo acoustic songs with an intense look on his face. He really seemed to mean what he was singing.

4:56 p.m.: Taking a break from all the new music for eighties flashback Echo & Bunnymen at SPIN party.

Back to Stubbs for the end of the SPIN party. I hadn’t seen Echo and the Bunnymen in more than 20 years. They sounded as good as ever, playing a greatest-hits set with songs including “The Cutter” and “The Killing Moon” alongside a few newer tunes, which fit in pretty well with the classics.

See Part 2 of my SXSW photos from March 20.

The main thing that attracted me to the next party, Sounds of Spain, was the promise of free paella and sangria. I hoped to hear some good music, too, but the singer playing while everyone descended on the food table, the preposterously named Nacho Vegas, sounded to me like a Spaniard trying to sound like a generic American rock musician.

Twitter, 7:13 p.m.: I’m witnessing a weird pagan ritual, also known as Kansas City band Mythical Beast. Apocalyptic, man.

This was one of my favorite finds of SXSW. I love the fact that weird music like is happening in places all over America, cities like Kansas City, and not just the places that have a reputation for being hip. Wearing a flowing, glittery gold dress, vocalist Corinne belted out her songs with dramatic concentration and booming power, pounding on a big kettle drum with fuzzy-tipped mallets, while guitarists Jeremiah and Aaron played moody riffs that sounded like fragments of a hard-rock band removed from the rest of the band. Corinne’s singing was very impressive, reminding me at times of Grace Slick, P.J. Harvey, Carla Bozulich and Nico. Mythical Beast records on the Language of Stone label run by Greg Weeks of the freaky, psychedelic, folk-rock band Espers, and I can see why Weeks would be interested in Mythical Beast. Here’s the Mythical Beast song “Cycle Circle.”

8:17 p.m.: Watching the Howlies stomping to some garage rock. Pretty good, but they could scuzz it up more.

I had high hopes for the Howlies after hearing their song “Chimera” — a cool ’60s-style garage-rock track. The band was decent as a live act, sounding like an oldies cover band except for the fact that their songs are original, but I was hoping for a little bit more.

9:43 p.m.: London’s brilliant Fanfarlo is rocking an Austin church. Sounds sublime!

This was one of the SXSW shows I was anticipating the most. I saw Fanfarlo last year in a gig at the Wave Rooftop that was marred by delays and technical malfunctions, and ever since then, I had enjoyed listening to the free CD the band handed out of its songs from EP’s released only in Britain. Now, Fanfarlo was playing at Central Presbyterian Church. I liked the idea of seeing this six-piece ensemble, which has strings, horns and extra drums in addition to the usual rock-band lineup, in a church. Alas, the set got off to a bad start with some jarring bass feedback permeating the first song.

The sound got better as the set went on, eventually leading me to Twitter that it sounded “sublime.” A bit of an exaggeration, perhaps, but the songs were great, in any case. The set was far too short for me, but I was able to buy a copy of Fanfarlo’s forthcoming debut CD, Reservoir, at the merch table, and I would get a chance to see Fanfarlo again the next day. Fanfarlo sounds a bit like the Arcade Fire and performs its music with a similar sense of celebration and instrument-swapping. Lead singer Simon Balthazar’s voice reminds me of David Byrne’s. Here’s the Fanfarlo song “Harold T. Wilkins, Or How to Wait for a Very Long Time.”

See Part 3 of my SXSW photos from March 20.

School of Seven Bells seemed to be getting a fair amount of attention at this year’s SXSW. I caught the trio on the Radio Room Patio and enjoyed what I heard. This is Benjamin Curtis of the Secret Machines (a band I never cared for all that much) playing guitar and drum machines while Italian twin sisters Alejandra and Claudia Deheza (from the band On-Air Library!) join their voices together. They have that lovely sort of harmony that only seems to come out of sibling voices. Here’s the School of Seven Bells song “Half Asleep.” (Hey, why didn’t I Twitter anything about this band?)

Twitter, 11:13 p.m.: O Canada, you keep sending up such good bands. Toronto’s Golden Dogs are storming through some great power pop.

I realize now that the Golden Dogs have played at SXSW for the past four years, and I’ve accumulated four songs by this Toronto band in my iTunes library. But I did not see them until now. What drew me was a cool song called “Lester.” The band sounded great live, something like late ’60s or early ’70s power pop, with alternating male and female vocals. A bit of the New Pornographers, perhaps. On their last song of the night, the Golden Dogs made a smooth segue into the classic guitar chords and drums of the Beatles’ “The End.” (Someone in the crowd shouted, “Punk rock!” at that moment, somewhat incongruously.)

11:54 p.m.: Now it’s time for a little live Devo. … 12:40 a.m.: After 5 songs in orange safety vests, Devo donned those red flower pot hats. “Whip It.”

The reunited original members of Devo looked older, but just as nerdy. Wearing those Devo outfits as they played songs from “Whip It” to their cover of “(Can’t Get No) Satisfaction,” they really looked like utility repairmen out on the job. I noticed several geeky fans wearing those red flower-pot hats, er, “energy domes,” which were for sale at the merch counter for $30. Good times.

Photos of Devo.

I ended the night at the Hideout, the same little theater where I’d begun the evening watching Mythical Beast. The last band of the showcase there was Magic Lantern from Long Beach, Calif. When I was preparing for SXSW by listening to the thousand-plus mp3s posted at www.sxsw.com, I noticed that the Magic Lantern track, “At the Mountains of Madness,” was the longest one in the bunch, clocking in at 14 minutes and 51 seconds. While I skipped through some of the other songs after hearing 30 seconds, I listened to all of this one — a heavy psychedelic jam. The band was great live, too, playing thunderous riffs with a mesmerizing sense of repetition.

See Part 4 of my SXSW photos from March 20.

SXSW Diary Part 5: March 19

I started out the day with a panel discussion at the Austin Convention Center called “Indie Labels Keep the Faith,” caught a few minutes of British singer-songwriter Paul Marshall playing in the café, then went across the street to the Memphis barbecue in Brush Square Park. Jump Back Jake was playing bar-band rock as I stood in line for food. Nothing got my attention until a guest star was announced.

Twitter, 1:15 p.m.: Just saw Jody Stephens of Big Star drumming while I was scooping up free baked beans at Memphis music party.

Back to the Convention Center café, I saw another song by Loch Lomond then watched a Swedish country-music quartet. 1:53 p.m.: Abalone Dots: 4 Swedish gals harmonizing, sounds a bit like Alison Krauss.

This group’s sound is probably too traditional or mainstream to appeal much to indie-rockers, but I think they’ll be a hit with Americana lovers. They were giving out copies of their CD, Traveler, which I’ve enjoyed listening to since then. It’s out in Sweden on RCA/Sony/BMG, but Abalone Dots apparently don’t have a U.S. record label. Here’s their song “Craighead County Sky.”

I spent the next 90 minutes at the SXSW keynote address by Quincy Jones, which I wrote about in a separate diary entry. Afterward, I caught a few songs by Justin Townes Earle in the café. I’ll include the standard mention of this singer’s pedigree — yes, he is Steve Earle’s son — before going on to say he’s a really good singer-songwriter in his own right. If anything, he seems to be more firmly rooted in traditional folk and country music than his dad. Even his drawling banter sounded like something you might have heard on a Nashville stage way back when.

Over at Brush Square Park, Esser was playing at the Transgressive Party. This is the stage name of Ben Esser, a young Brit with a pompadour hairdo who was wearing a black jacket covered with shiny buttons. Unfamiliar with Esser’s music, I heard something that sounded like dance pop with a bit of punk thrown in. Esser was given to making extravagant gestures as he performed.

The real reason I was in the tent, however, was to see the next act, which I twittered about a short time later. 5:54 p.m.: Graham Coxon (ex-Blur) is playing solo acoustic in a tent. Impressive finger picking, some nice new songs.

It was just Coxon and an acoustic guitar, and I believe every song he played was from his forthcoming album, The Spinning Top. Song titles were: “Sarah’s Army,” “This House,” “In the Morning,” “Brave the Storm” and “Dead Bees.” It was a strong collection of songs, with some very fast and deft guitar playing.

Coxon seemed a little nervous or ill at ease at a few moments — maybe because of a slight problem with his guitar’s sound going out for a few seconds — but it was a really nice performance, and now I’m looking forward to that new record. Coxon said he was wearing larger sunglasses than he had the day before, when a sound man told him that his other glasses were causing microphone feedback — something Coxon has never heard before in all his years of performing.

On his Twitter feed, Coxon noted, “wearing the biggest specs i can find. just am [sic] experiment…” Earlier in the day, Coxon twittered: “sxsw rolls inexerably on. the dead litter the gutters and verges. theres bits of brain on the brogues. i walk thru the smokin scape to victory!”

This year, I was staying at a hotel, the Hilton, that had its own musical stage, and so I managed to see English folk-rocker Jay Jay Pistolet performing in the lobby while grabbing a quick bite to eat. Pistolet’s voice sounded great, and he seemed like a crooner in the style of recent Nick Lowe records. And then, it was back out onto the streets of Austin for the nighttime showcases…

See more photos of daytime shows I attended on March 19.

Twitter, 7:29 p.m.: Watching All Tiny Creatures: guys from Milwaukee who sound more like ‘7Os German rock. Cool repetitive grooves. As I watched this show at the Habana Bar, I started to think I’d seen this band before, but then I realized I was thinking of another group from Milwaukee, Collections of Colonies of Bees, which includes one of the same musicians, Thomas Wincek. All Tiny Creatures put on a cool performance of instrumental pieces featuring Philip Glass-style minimalism, looping keyboard parts and driving percussion. It reminded me of Krautrock bands such as Neu. Here’s the All Tiny Creatures track “To All Tiny Creatures.”


8:22 p.m.: Awesome rocking set by Bam Bam from Monterrey, Mexico! One of the fest’s best so far.

This set at B.D. Riley’s was one of the SXSW shows I had been looking forward to the most. I missed Bam Bam last year at SXSW, but then when I went back later on and listened to some of the mp3s from 2008 SXSW bands, I really started to dig the Bam Bam song “Hi-Q.” I played it when I was a guest on WBEZ’s Radio M show last summer. Bam Bam’s EP is available for free download at the Nene Records site.

So now was my chance to see this group live after blowing a similar opportunity last year. Bam Bam delivered! I love the energy of the group’s songs, with a strong mix of male and female vocals. (If this set had any flaw, it was a need for the singing to be mixed higher.) Female singer Luxor pounded away on a drum as she sang, giving the songs an extra kick. On Bam Bam’s myspace page, where it lists the members and what they play, a note adds: “and we all sing and dance like fishes.” I’m not sure what fishes dance like, but Bam Bam rocked the house. According to the bio Bam Bam supplied to SXSW, the group is “now locked up in an old pesticide warehouse,” working on a new record.

I headed over to Speakeasy next to see The Wailing Wall. I liked the songs I’d heard by this New York group on myspace. Live, the mix of guitar, viola, keyboards and drums sounded pretty good, but the songs did not make much of an impression on me. Worth hearing again.

I stopped into the Parish long enough to catch a couple of songs by Thao With the Get Down Stay Down. This group, led by Thao Nguyen, seemed to be getting some buzz. I didn’t hear enough to really say what I think. This song by Thao, “Bag of Hammers,” is interesting.

10:32 p.m.: Vivian Girls were pretty good but then they seemed to run out of songs and did a repeat.

A change in the schedule at Aces Lounge allowed me to squeeze in most of the Vivian Girls set there — although I’d vowed never to step foot in the place again after seeing Grant Hart on that stage behind the bar. The Vivian Girls did their thing pretty well, playing primitive rock with a cool attitude, though they did seem a bit short on material.

Photos of the Vivian Girls.


I stopped into another venue I’ve really come to dislike, Wave Rooftop, for a set by Artefacts For Space Travel. Trying to recall what this group sounds like, the name made me think it was going to be psychedelic space rock. And their bio on the SXSW site notes, “Time-out magazine have called us ‘Weirdo Lo-fi Psyche rock.'” As it turned out, the Artefacts sounds something like the melodic punk-pop of bands such as the Arctic Monkeys but with more of the reverbs and effects you’d expect in psychedelic music. They sounded good live. Here’s their song “Recoup.”

11:27 p.m.: Old Japanese prog rockers Flower Travellin’ Band are playing. That’s one weird-looking guitar.

Actually, that wasn’t a guitar I was looking at when I Twittered thus. It was a sitarla, an instrument that has six strings like a guitar but an extra wide neck extending past the high “E” string, allowing for more string bending. I decided to see Flower Travellin’ Band after reading that it was the reunion of an early ’70s prog-rock group from Japan that hadn’t played together in 35 years. I didn’t know the songs, but I could see and hear how talented these guys are — there were some amazing guitar solos and piercing vocals. The music reminded me of classic rock by Deep Purple and Santana. It was strange seeing this band with an audience of devoted fans, who were super excited at the chance to see Flower Travellin’ Band for the first time so many years after their records came out.

Photos of Flower Travellin’ Band.

12:24 a.m.: This band is called Abe Vigoda but they’re all wearing Judy Garland T-shirts.

I rather liked the one song I’d heard by the Los Angeles punk band Abe Vigoda, “Don’t Lie”, but I had a little trouble connecting with the band’s music when I heard it live. It was a noisy set, and I think if I’d known the songs beforehand, I might have enjoyed it.

I capped off the night with a show by the Wrens, an old favorite of mine, at the basement venue called Prague. Unfortunately, the place was so crowded that I couldn’t get anywhere near the stage. When the Wrens finally began, the first song was so quiet that it was hard to tell from the back of the room whether they were performing or doing sound check. But when the chords of “Everyone Choose Sides” rang out, it felt like an electric charge running through the crowd. What followed was a typically great Wrens performance, though the SXSW schedule required the show to be shorter than I would have liked.

Twitter, 2:07 a.m.: Wrens rocked at the end of the night, played a couple of new songs. … 2:32 a.m.: Wrens: “We’ve got 10 minutes and we’re going to play 33 songs, so no clapping.” (They actually only played 2 songs after that.)

See more photos of bands I saw the night of March 19.

SXSW Diary Part 4: Quincy Jones speech

Here’s what I said on Twitter on Thursday afternoon (March 19). 3:45 p.m.: Quincy Jones may still be going on at next year’s sxsw. Amazing guy but I had to leave after 1 1/2 hours … 4:09 p.m.: I meant to say “Quincy Jones’ speech,” in case anyone thinks he was playing music. There was a piano on stage, but he hadn’t touched it yet.

Yes, SXSW keynote speaker Quincy Jones did talk for a long time. He was scheduled to speak for an hour and 15 minutes. I left at the 90-minute mark. I later saw in the local press that he ended up talking for two and a half hours. I hated to walk out while a living legend was speaking, but I had other places to go.

Jones reminisced about growing up in Chicago and Seattle and working with the biggest names in music, including Ray Charles, Frank Sinatra and Michael Jackson. It was fascinating at times, and I always cherish the opportunity to spend some time listening to someone of Jones’ stature in person, but he did ramble a bit.

A few choice quotes from Jones:

“When you get over the hill, that’s when you really pick up speed … The bad news is … sex after 90 is like shooting pool in the middle of the road.” (Jones, who is 76, says that what’s heard, at least.)

“I’ve been called the ghetto Gump. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

On the most important musical innovation he’s witnessed in his lifetime: “Without the electric bass, there’d be no rock ‘n’ roll … and there’d be no Motown.”

On Frank Sinatra: “He loved you and respected you, or he would roll over you backwards in a Mack truck. No in between.”

On how to tell if a musician’s “got it”: “You can tell if they’ve got it if you recognize them in the first 20 seconds of their record.”

On jazz: “It’s the balance between soul and science.”

“Anyone who says they know how to sell 50 million records is lying and smoking Kool-Aid.”

SXSW Diary Part 3: March 18

I started the day at the café stage in the Austin Convention Center, where Hyperpotamus from Madrid was using looping pedals to create layered, a cappella music, including an elaborate cover of the Beatles’ “Strawberry Fields.”

He was followed by one of the Mexican acts I wanted to catch at sxsw… Twitter, 12:51 p.m.: Watching Natalia Lafourcade: nice Mexican folk rock w/touch of tropicalia. She started with a cover of “Blackbird” (what is this, a Beatles tribute stage?) and continued with some cool original songs.

I headed out to the IDOA party at Emo’s Annex.

1:22 p.m.: Sweden’s Marching Band playing bright melodic pop. Definitely worth seeing.

This was one of the bands I’d wanted to see at SXSW. I enjoyed their tuneful record from last year, Spark Large, and they did not disappoint as a live act. Here’s their song “Make No Plans.”

I went down the street to Red-Eyed Fly, where I impatiently waited for a late-starting gig by the Whispertown 2000. The best part: hearing the two female vocalists sing Gillian Welch’s “Miss Ohio” during the sound check. Once the band actually started playing, it seemed like pretty good country rock, but I couldn’t get too excited over it.

I skipped that scene and went back to Emo’s Annex, where I caught a decent show by Brooklyn’s the Phenomenal Handclap Band, two female singers performing dance rock without a lot of the usual electronic sounds that come with dance music. I later saw someone else on Twitter calling this band “unreal.” Hmmm, well, they were fun enough, and they had some good dance grooves, but they’ve got a long way to go before I’d call them unreal.

Twitter, 2:57 p.m.: Taking a break from music to see Jarvis Cocker gab on “Saying the Unsayable.” … Jarvis Cocker was brilliant. Guy could be a pop-music prof… (See Part 2 of my diary for a separate write-up about Cocker’s lecture.)

6:27 p.m.: Montreal’s Beast was intriguing: Shirley Bassey-style vox, hip-hop + rock.

I’m not sure this band, which was playing at the Canadian Blast Barbecue at Brush Square Park, was really my thing, but I liked it for what it was. The vocalist, Betty Bonifassi, sang on the soundtrack for the great French animated film The Triplets of Belleville, and now she’s based in Montreal along with the other members of Beast, which is spearheaded by drummer/composer Jean-Phi Goncalves. She really puts a lot of muscle and passion into her singing. I also heard a couple of songs by Mother Mother when I first walked into the party. And afterward, I caught just a couple of songs by Beach House at another party.

See more photos from the daytime shows I attended March 18.

I started the evening by walking all the way over to the west end of the SXSW scene, the tent behind Opal Divine’s Freehouse, where the Icelandic band Sprengjuhöllin was getting ready to play. This was one of the acts I was anticipating the most, since I really like the mix of pop, folk and psychedelia on the group’s self-titled album, which I discovered through e-music. Plus, this is one of those bands from a distant (and bankrupt) land that may or may not show up again on these shores anytime soon. The band was still playing when I sent a tweet in past tense — 8:39 p.m.: Sprengjuhöllin was really great. And they have that weird Icelandic sense of humor. They really did deliver everything I was hoping.

In addition to playing excellent music, Sprengjuhöllin had some of the most entertaining stage banter I heard all week. The people of Iceland do seem to have an odd sense of humor. Near the end of the show, one of the guys in Sprengjuhöllin said, “We’re going to play a few more numbers.” Another member of the band interjected, “We mean mathematical numbers, not songs.” We also received a lesson in Icelandic pronunciation, as one of the musicians broke down Sprengjuhöllin syllable by syllable and led the audience in a chant of his band’s name. Here’s the Sprengjuhöllin song “Worry Till Spring.”

Photos of Sprengjuhöllin.

9:38 p.m.: My first Melodica sighting of this year’s sxsw: Johnny Goudie.

I didn’t see that one coming. I was keeping an eye open for Melodicas, wondering if those little keyboards you blow into had fallen out of fashion yet in the world of indie rock. Apparently not. But Goudie, who was playing with his backup band, the Little Champions, seemed like an unlikely Melodica guy. He’s a little too adult contemporary for such a twee instrument. I liked the song I’d heard by Goudie, “Battlescar,” but the rest of the songs I heard during his live performance at the Tap at 6 were a little too mundane for my tastes. He’s got a good voice, though.

10:34 p.m.: Loch Lomond is doing a nice set of folk rock: 7 players, violas & such, soft harmonies.

This was one of many large ensembles playing at SXSW this year. I like these groups with lots of fiddles, horns and drumming in addition to the traditional rock instruments. In the case of Loch Lomond, from Portland, Ore., the sound is more toward the mellow folk-rock end of the spectrum. This was beautiful music I plan to listen to more in the future. Here’s the Loch Lomond song “Blue Lead Fences.”

11:02 p.m.: Ugh. A venue where the bar is between the stage and audience: Aces Lounge. Not good. … 11:17 p.m.: Yes, Aces is a horrible venue but worth visiting just now to see Grant Hart.

This was a chance to finally see former Hüsker Dü member Grant Hart, who has been a lot less visible in the music world than his ex-bandmate Bob Mould. Playing alone with an electric guitar in the middle of this hideous bar, as bartenders rang up orders at his feet, Hart performed strong versions of some of his best songs from Hüsker Dü, including “No Promise Have I Made,” “Don’t Want to Know If You’re Lonely” and “Green Eyes” as well as his solo song “2541.” In between songs, Hart tossed out some bitter, sarcastic comments, criticizing BMI, sympathizing with Austinites who have to put up with SXSW and suggesting that the audience should build a bonfire in the middle of Sixth Street.

12:57 a.m.: Mark David Ashworth just played beautiful acoustic music at Austin’s Hideout.

This singer-songwriter from San Francisco (a former Austin resident) has a terrific voice and good songs. I really enjoyed his performance, which I put on my list after hearing his songs at www.myspace.com/markdavidashworth.

2:12 a.m.: Finished the night w/Mumford & Sons, lively bunch of Brit folkies, then a bit of Mexico City’s Los Fancy Free, who seemed a bit nuts.

Mumford & Sons are from London, but they are stepped in the sounds of acoustic American music. As one of the remarked during Wednesday’s show at Friends, “We’re not saying we can play bluegrass better than you, but it’s fun to play.” The jetlagged band was missing its keyboard player (some sort of travel delay), and playing without having slept in 23 hours, but it still sounded sprightly and melodic. And it wasn’t a pure imitation of American folk and country music — I also picked up an English drinking-hall songs vibe.

& Sons finished a little after 1:30 a.m., which gave me enough to time to wander off in search of another band finishing up. I ended up watching a few songs by Los Fancy Free from Mexico City at the Habana Bar Backyard. The band was putting on a very lively show of psychedelic punk rock, prompting a small but enthusiastic crowd to shout “¡Otra!” (Although I did not get to hear it on this occasion, this is the same band that does a 10-minute “psych-out” version of Dire Straits’ “Sultans of Swing.” You can hear that on myspace.)

More photos of the shows I saw the night of March 18.

SXSW Diary Part 2: Jarvis Cocker Lecture

This was a real kick, seeing former Pulp singer Jarvis Cocker give a full-blown lecture on the art of lyric writing along with a PowerPoint presentation and video clips of songs of performers ranging from the Kingsmen to Leonard Cohen. This guy could be a pop-music professor. He was witty and insightful, even when he was making somewhat obvious points, such as when he presented his musical formula: “Music + Lyrics + Performance = Dynamite!”

What was the first song that had a big impact on the young Cocker, making him realize that song lyrics could make you see pictures in your mind? I wouldn’t have guessed this one, but it was Gordon Lightfoot’s “If I Could Read Your Mind.” Cocker played that song and then sat down with an acoustic guitar to play the first song he ever wrote, a silly ditty from 1978:

Got a baby only one thing wrong
She quotes Shakespeare all day long
Said baby why you ignoring me?
She said “To be or not to be”
Shakespeare Rock, Shakespeare Roll
Shakespeare Rock, Shakespeare Roll

Finishing the tune, Cocker asked sarcastically, “Very touching, isn’t it?”

Cocker told about an argument he’d had with Noel Gallagher of Oasis, who insisted that the lyrics to the Beatles’ “I Am the Walrus” are utterly meaningless. Cocker, on the other hand, says the lyrics do have meaning, as well as some subtle internal rhyming schemes. The nonsense is a meaning in itself, he said — “a refusal to play the game, to engage in the charade.”

Should songs rhyme? For the most part, Cocker said yes. But he warned aspiring lyricists against becoming “rhyme-whores.” As an example of what can happen when you try too hard to come up with a rhyme, Cocker performed a hilarious karaoke version of the Des’ree song “Life,” which was voted the worst lyric of all time in a BBC poll. The song’s most egregious rhymes are the following: “I don’t want to see a ghost/It’s the sight I fear the most/I’d rather have a piece of toast.”

Another example of a bad rhyme, according to Cocker, is the ABC song “That Was Then,” which includes this couplet: “Can’t complain, mustn’t grumble, help yourself to another piece of apple crumble.” But then Cocker talked about how he loves a similar sort of reference in Nick Cave’s “Abbatoir Blues”:

Everything’s dissolving, babe, according to plan
The sky is on fire, the dead are heaped across the land
I went to bed last night and my moral code got jammed
I woke up this morning with a Frappucino in my hand

“What is it,” Cocker asked, “that distinguishes Nick Cave’s Frappucino from [ABC singer] Martin Fry’s apple crumble or Des’ree’s toast?” Cocker pointed out that Cave put the Frapuccino in the middle of a line, instead of sticking it at the end. It’s not part of the rhyming scheme, so it’s clear that Cave deliberately chose to include this iced coffee drink in his lyrics. He wasn’t throwing it in there just because he needed a rhyme. “There is no whiff of desperation in his Frapuccino,” Cocker explained.

Are song lyrics poetry? Despite many similarities between the two forms, Cocker said no. As an example, he played an acoustic version of the Pulp song “Babies,” pointing out an important element of the lyrics that would just look silly on the page — “Yeah, yeah, yeah…”

After playing clips of some songs he loves and admires — Dory Previn’s “The Lady With the Braid,” Scott Walker’s “Plastic Palace People,” Hot Chocolate’s “Emma,” the Velvet Underground’s “Heroin” and the Fall’s “Wings,” among others — Cocker took apart the lyrics to “You’re Beautiful” by James Blunt. “Attacking this song is like shooting fish in a barrel, but I’m going to do it anyway,” he said.

As Cocker pointed out, one of the big flaws in Blunt’s lyrics is the way he describes seeing a woman with another man in the first verse, announcing, “I’ve got a plan.” But then he never says what exactly his plan to win over this woman is. Blunt concludes: “It’s time to face the truth, I will never be with you.” Cocker responds: “Can you believe it? There was no plan. It was a LIE!”

Cocker concluded this entertaining lecture/show/performance with one more acoustic performance, a cover of Leonard Cohen’s song “Tonight Will Be Fine.” And then he noted that the magic of good song lyrics is that “the personal becomes universal.”

The text of Cocker’s lecture and some questions he answered at a previous appearance at the Brighton Festival in England, along with some of the video clips he used, are up at http://www.acrylicafternoons.com/jarvisonsong.html

Photos of Jarvis Cocker’s lecture.

SXSW Diary Part 1: March 17

Twitter, 12:29 p.m.: I’ve arrived in Austin. Absolutely beautiful weather. Rode on the same plane with some guys wearing lots of hair gel and spotted pants. (That turned out to be Angry Vs. the Bear, a band from Essex, England.)

The music portion of SXSW does not officially start until Wednesday, so on Tuesday I spent a relaxing afternoon wandering around downtown Austin.

4:01 p.m.: First grackle spotting of this visit to Austin. First of many, I’m sure. (Downtown Austin sometimes seems to be overrun with these birds.)

4:42 p.m.: Looking at an exhibit by sound artist Trimpin. Insert quarter & a song plays on wooden shoes.

4:57 p.m.: Some pretty good street music: The Ferocious Few. A bit like Steve Earle.

5:16 p.m.: Just visited Austin’s Museum of the Weird. Saw 2-headed chickens, calves. Jackalope. Texas Bigfoot. (This place, at the rear of the Lucky Lizard gift shop, is a pretty cool tribute to the dime museums that were popular more than a century ago.)

5:29 p.m.: New sxsw venue Zone Perfect: Yellowest room ever? 5:43 p.m.: … It’s a venue and a gallery. And it has its own brand of nutrition bar. Seems like a bit much. Angie Mattson was singing smooth singer-songwriter music when I stopped inside this odd Zone Perfect venue, which felt like an annoying corporate contrivance or some sort of thought-control experiment. As Mattson paused between songs, the venue’s young female staffers shouted “Zone Perfect!” like cheerleaders. That was my signal to vamoose.

After dinner at Serrano’s with some of the fine folks I’ve met through the Postcard From Hell mailing list, I headed off in search of a few of the bands on my “to see” list.

9:45 p.m.: NZ punkers Bang! Bang! Eche! very energetic. I almost got clobbered by singer jumping off stage. That was no exaggeration. These very young-looking lads from New Zealand played loud, energetic dance-punk and jumped all over the place at Friends. Neither I nor my camera were injured in the collision. I enjoyed this set and I’ll be checking out more music by Bang! Bang! Eche!. The songs seemed fairly smart beneath all the racket. Here’s their track “4 to the Floor.”

12:11 a.m.: Finished my night in Austin at Music Gym co-op. Loxsly played a good set of slightly psychedelic art rock, a bit like Midlake. Now, this was a strange venue — a building and tent near the Interstate that local bands apparently use as a rehearsal space. I got the feeling that I’d crashed a small party where everyone in the small audience was a friend of someone on stage. The first band I saw, Eddy Highway, was a little generic but I sensed some good songwriting. The next band was Loxsly, which I’d wanted to see after hearing the song “As the Constellation’s Arms Uncurled.” This Austin group played some nice music with artsy keyboard and guitar textures. They seem to have great potential.

More photos from March 17 in Austin.

SXSW roundup

My overview of South By Southwest is up on the Pioneer Press Web site. I’m posting my SXSW diary here — including annotated versions of the Twitter/Facebook updates I posted while I was in Austin. Pictures are up in the photo galleries. And later on, I’ll post a list of my favorite SXSW acts.

What to see at SXSW?

For anyone seeking ideas on what bands to see at SXSW, I’ve posted my schedule — or rather, my list of possible things to see. This includes official showcases, day parties (some of them invite-only, some of them free and open to the public) and a few conference events, all arranged chronologically. My picks for the best possibilities are marked with asterisks, but just about anything on this list has a good chance of being good.

I posted it as a text file at: https://www.undergroundbee.com/2009sxswsched.txt.

Human Highway and Handsome Furs

I’m here in Austin now for SXSW, but before I get too immersed in all the madness, I’m catching up on a couple of concerts I saw over the weekend. Both of these bands would be on my list of groups to see at SXSW if I hadn’t seen them in Chicago already. Human Highway, a Canadian duo featuring Nick Thorburn of Islands and Jim Guthrie), played Saturday night at the Empty Bottle, putting a real ’60s flair into their harmony-heavy pop songs. The group’s debut CD, Moody Motorcycle, has been getting a lot of spins this year on my stereo. Check out Human Highway’s song “The Sound” here.

Photos of Human Highway.

I was back at the Bottle Sunday night to see another Canadian duo, the Handsome Furs, who released one of my favorite 2007 albums, Plague Park. Don Boeckner (who’s also in Wolf Parade) cranks out tuneful songs on his electric guitar and sings with gusto while his wife, Alexi Perry, rocks her drum machine and tiny electronic keyboard. And she does rock it. The tension between the rock guitar and the electronic beats really drives this duo’s music. And you don’t have to be a fan of most electronic music to appreciate what Boeckner and Perry are up to. I’ve been delinquent in getting the new CD by the Handsome Furs, Face Control, but I heard a lot of performed live Sunday night, and the songs just vibrant. Boeckner and Perry pour everything into their live performances, and they seemed genuinely and pleasantly surprised by the very enthusiastic response they received from an audience of adoring Chicago fans.

Photos of the Handsome Furs.

Heading to SXSW

I’ll soon be on my way to Austin, Texas, for my annual trek to the South By Southwest Music Conference. After listening to more than 1,000 mp3’s posted at www.sxsw.com (well, I listened to at least a little bit of each song, skipping past the ones I obviously wasn’t going to like) as well as visiting many of the myspace pages for bands without any posted mp3, I narrowed down the list to … a mere 450 bands I want to see! Well, that’s going to be impossible, obviously. But I hope to see maybe a tenth of those groups and follow up on some of the other bands by getting their CDs or seeing them later in Chicago. It’s a good way to get an overview of what’s happening in music this year.

Don’t expect extensive reports here on my blog this week. I may post a few quick reports, but most of the reviews and photos will be coming next week once the whole hectic thing is over. I plan to send updates to my Twitter page, which also go to my Facebook page. I may also post some photos on flickr.

I haven’t had a chance to post reviews of a couple of noteworthy concerts I saw over the past weekend, but maybe soon. Human Highway put on a really nice show of harmony-laden ’60s-style pop Saturday night at the Empty Bottle, and back at the same venue on Sunday night, the Handsome Furs were awesome — very fun and lively. My Handsome Furs pictures are up in the photo galleries.

Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy at the Vic

Bonnie “Prince” Billy (a.k.a. Will Oldham) is a great enigma, an artist who’s hard to explain, with a walrus mustache that seems to hide half his face. He tends to hide from public exposure, too, though he did some interviews recently to coincide with the release of his new album, Beware. The Jan. 5 feature story in The New Yorker gave a fascinating glimpse of what it’s like hanging out with Oldham in his hometown of Louisville, along with the strange information that his musical idols are Leonard Cohen, Merle Haggard and R. Kelly. But as with any piece of writing about Oldham, the article still left you feeling like you don’t really know this guy or what makes him tick.
(He was also interviewed recently on NPR.)

Maybe his fans, including me, are just building up this sense of mystique around Oldham. But even if he weren’t such a mysterious man, his music would deserve the mythology. I’m still filling in some of the holes in my collection of Oldham music (he has released a lot of records over the years under various names), but it’s clear to me that he is one of our great songwriters today. His previous two albums, The Letting Go and Lie Down in the Light, ranked among my favorites of recent years, and the newest one, Beware, seems destined for similar greatness after a few listens. This one’s a typical mix of Oldham’s folk and country music, along with some peculiar touches of strings and horns. At times, it veers into the ornate orchestral territory of Astral Weeks or Nick Drake’s more symphonic music.

Oldham played Saturday night (March 14) at the Vic Theatre, his first concert in Chicago since a 2006 show at the Portage Theatre, and this one was a doozy. He had a terrific band playing behind him, including a couple of very talented musicians I often see around Chicago, Emmett Kelly on guitar and Josh Abrams on bass. Cheyenne Mize played violin and sang all the female leads and harmony parts, and one of the best percussionists around, Jim White, played drums. It’s a music-critic cliché to call music “organic,” but that is the best word I can think of to describe what this band was doing. The songs seemed to grow on the stage right in front of us, as Kelly played figures on his guitar halfway between melodic leads and rhythmic chords and the rest of the musicians fell into patterns they seemed to be inventing on the spot. They looked to each other for cues on what to do next, as if they were still learning these songs, but it never sounded unrehearsed in a sloppy way.

Oldham moved with peculiar gestures, kicking his legs backwards, flailing his arms. Are these actorly affectations or examples of the natural way he dances and expresses himself? Oldham is an actor as well as a singer, so one wonders how much of his stage manners are a planned performance and how much is spontaneous. Wherever those moves come from, they’re odd. Oldham clearly hasn’t read the official manual on how rock stars are supposed to move onstage, but he’s all the better for it. He comes across as a guy who lacks some of the inhibitions normal people feel, someone who’s not afraid of making a fool of himself.

The concert got off to a strong start, but then it turned into something truly exceptional when Oldham played his sixth song of the night, “Blood Embrace.” Beginning in a hush, the song built to a dramatic crescendo, and Oldham looked as if he was being transported by the magic. Jim White knocked over one of his cymbals as the song crashed to an end.

A few songs later, Bonnie “Prince” Billy played “A Minor Place” from his classic album I Saw a Darkness, and the band made that song sound like the anthem it deserves to be, the backup musicians blending their voices in woozy gospel harmonies. The way Kelly was playing the chords, it almost sounded like the band was about to break out into a cover of Elvis Presley’s “Suspicious Minds.”

Oldham followed up that song with “The Seedling” and “I Called You Back,” both from The Letting Go, and it become clear that this was one show where the performer was pouring everything he had into his songs. He did not let up, either. A little while later, as he let the band play an instrumental break in “Even If Love,” Oldham raised his eyes toward the ceiling. He seemed to be shaking all over. Then he broke the spell by asking sardonically, “What do you have to do to get a disco ball turned on?” (The Vic’s lighting guy responded with a disco-ball-like effect, though the actual ball itself never did light up.)

After this amazing performance, I’m still not sure who Bonnie “Prince” Billy is, but I don’t have any doubts about his talents.

SETLIST (missing a couple of song titles)
Sheep (from Ease Down the Road)
Hard Life (from Master and Everyone)
You Are Lost (from Beware)
How About Thank You (from a new 10-inch record)
A King at Night (from Ease Down the Road)
Blood Embrace (from Superwolf)
Lay and Love (from The Letting Go)
Where is the Puzzle? (from Lie Down in the Light)
I Send My Love to You (from Sings Greatest Palace Music)
A Minor Place (from I See a Darkness)
The Seedling (from The Letting Go)
I Called You Back (from The Letting Go)
Without Work, You Have Nothing (from Beware)
Beware Your Only Friend (from Beware)
Careless Love (from Ease Down the Road)
Even If Love (from Master and Everyone)
You Want That Picture (from Lie Down in the Light)
?
Nomadic Revery (All Around) (from I See a Darkness)
I’ll Be Glad (from Lie Down in the Light)
ENCORE
You Don’t Love Me (from Beware)
?
Nobody’s Darling on Earth (cover)

(Sorry, no photos!)

Rocking to Warhol films

Andy Warhol’s films raise the question of what exactly you’re supposed to do with them. Are they regular “films” meant to be seen in a movie theater? Or some other sort of art? In today’s art world, they’d probably be seen more in line with the video art that you see in galleries or posted on the Web than anything you would sit down to watch with a bucket of popcorn.

It seemed especially apt when the “screen tests” Warhol filmed showing the members of the Velvet Underground staring at the camera were displayed in the 2007 exhibit “Sympathy for the Devil: Art and Rock and Roll Since 1967,” at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago. Walking through the galleries, you saw these faces looking out at you from the wall, not still enough to be paintings, not quite animated enough to be movies. They were the living equivalent of a two-dimensional photographic portrait.

More of those screen tests — a sample of the 300 four-minute films Warhol made of various people looking into the camera — were back at the MCA Saturday night (March 7). This time, they were on a big screen in the theater, a bit more like a trip to the cinema. But this was a concert, not a movie. Or maybe it was both. Dean & Britta were playing thirteen songs to accompany those black-and-white faces, in a project commissioned by the Andy Warhol Museum called 13 Most Beautiful … Songs for Andy Warhol’s Screen Tests. Warhol used to show some of these movies at performances by the Velvet Underground and Nico, so it seems like the late pop artist would probably approve of this latest use for his footage.

And Dean & Britta are a good choice to carry it out. It’s been obvious ever since Dean Wareham was in Galaxie 500 — and all throughout his recordings with Luna and Dean & Britta — that the Velvet Underground are his major musical influence. At last night’s show, Dean & Britta sounded more like the V.U. than ever. Other than a few loud moments, they stayed on the more delicate end of the V.U. groove, with that trademark sound of tamped-down urgency pulsing underneath the chords. While Wareham and Britta Phillips don’t sound precisely like Lou Reed and Nico when they sing, their languid vocals were a close-enough approximation to set the right mood for the screen tests. Some of the songs (including originals as well as covers) were instrumental; in some, the vocals were almost incidental. Wareham’s guitar was the musical star of the night.

But the real stars were those faces — Richard Rheem, Ann Buchanan, Paul America, Edie Sedgwick, Billy Name, Susan Bottomly, Dennis Hopper, Mary Woronow, Nico, Freddy Herko, Ingrid Superstar, Lou Reed and Jane Holzer. As the films flared in and out of view, the faces stared out at us, like people looking at themselves in the mirror. Some of them did little more than stare, and one’s attention wandered away from the screen. Then the eyes would blink and you would remember that that wasn’t just a still photo projected behind the band. Some of the subjects were more lively. Reed, wearing cool shades, slurped at a Coke bottle. (For that film, Dean & Britta played “Not a Young Man Anymore,” an old V.U. song that surfaced in bootleg concert recordings.) Hopper kept glancing down and then back up, seemingly fighting off an urge to laugh or reveal some other emotion, his eyes fluttering.

Nico acted as if it wasn’t a screen test at all, but rather a casual moment captured by a surreptitious camera. But then she made it clear that she really was playing for the camera when she rolled up a magazine and held it to her eye like a telescope. (For that film, Dean & Britta played “I’ll Keep It With Mine,” which Bob Dylan wrote with Nico in mind.) In the final film of the show, Jane Holzer brushed her teeth for all of us to see.

13 Most Beautiful… is coming out on DVD from Plexifilm, and Wareham suggested the video musical tracks would be perfect to watch on an iPod or cell phone. That does seem like the sort of art-dissemination system Warhol would have liked. You can watch the trailer here on youtube.

Photos of Dean & Britta performing at the MCA.

O’Neill Festival at the Goodman

The Eugene O’Neill festival now in its final days at Chicago’s Goodman Theatre wasn’t exactly designed as an introduction to this great American playwright. Nor was it a celebration of his best and most famous works. Long Day’s Journey Into Night and The Iceman Cometh were nowhere to be seen on the schedule. But it was a fascinating exploration of O’Neill’s work — filled with unusual and even daring stagings of several plays. Never was it dull, that’s for sure. It ranks up there with the other festivals the Goodman has hosted in recent years focusing on other playwrights, including David Mamet and Edward Albee. (Alas, I missed most of the 2008 festival of plays by Horton Foote, who just passed way.) None of these festivals have been anywhere near comprehensive — that would be just be a huge undertaking for these prolific writers — but they’ve all offered a terrific chance to see plays that aren’t produced all that often.

The full name of the O’Neill festival gives an apt description of what artistic director Robert Falls was going for: “A Global Exploration: Eugene O’Neill in the 21st Century.” It was truly global, with companies from Brazil and the Netherlands performing as well as Chicago and New York theater groups. And it did feel very much like a 21st century interpretation of this quintessentially 20th century playwright.

The festival ends with director Greg Allen and the Neo-Futurists tackling Strange Interlude, a nine-act, nearly six-hour drama in which the characters speak many of their thoughts aloud. It’s hard to believe this play was one of the biggest commercial hits of O’Neill’s lifetime when it was on Broadway in 1928. Maybe the novelty of it connected with audiences back then. Now, it just seems incredibly ponderous — a script in need of some severe editing. If anyone could pull off a post-modern deconstruction of Strange Interlude, it’s the Neo-Futurists, who did a wonderful show a few years back consisting of the final two minutes of every Ibsen play.

Their fractured take on Strange Interlude opened Friday night, with just two more performances after that. Amazingly enough, it did seem to hold most of the audience’s attention for its long span — except for that disgruntled purist who caused a disturbance by yelling out his disapproval during the first intermission. I believe he said, “Why are you butchering this play?” or something along those lines. Well, to be honest, it’s a play that deserves a lot of cuts and changes.

The Neo-Futurists played this tragedy for laughs, reading many of O’Neill’s absurdly specific stage directions aloud. The entire performance was a sarcastic commentary on the script itself. And a great deal of it was very funny, with the audience laughing so much at times that the actors had to pause in delivering their lines. The humor went beyond spoofing O’Neill, incorporating some surprising bits of physical humor. What’s really impressive is that the actors and the audience were able to keep up the laughter for almost six hours. Truth to be told, the whole experience would have been easier to absorb if it were condensed down to a third of its length, but then it wouldn’t have been Strange Interlude, would it? Actually, was that play I saw on Friday really Strange Interlude? Perhaps it should have been retitled Stranger Interlude for this occasion.

The headline show of the festival was Desire Under the Elms, directed by Falls and starring Brian Dennehy, Pablo Schreiber and Carla Gugino. (It’s now moving to Broadway.) This turned out to be one of those productions that people either loved or hated. I loved it. Sure, I can see how smaller, less bombastic stagings of O’Neill script work fine, but Fall’s almost operatic epic was staggeringly big. The silent opening sequence showing the brothers hauling boulders was mesmerizing. The actors were intense and passionate. The trims in the script helped the whole story to flow like some fever dream, as Falls said he intended.

The festival also included the Wooster Group’s controversial production of The Emperor Jones, with Kate Valk as the lead character — cross-dressing and in blackface. Why do blackface in 2009? Well, O’Neill’s script has more than its share of dated racial stereotypes, but it is certainly a play of at least some historical interest. So how do you stage it in 2009? The Wooster Group’s solution is a radical sort of commentary on blackface and racial types. The fact that Valk was also changing genders for the role seemed to emphasis that her performance was as much of a comment on the O’Neill play as it was an attempt to transform herself into this character. As a spectacle, the show was an assault on the senses. The play’s language was difficult to follow, but the picture of what I saw onstage will remain in my memory a long time.

The Hypocrites and director Sean Graney performed The Hairy Ape, with an almost frighteningly visceral performance by Chris Sullivan. The play’s message about the gap between the rich and the working class is didactic, but Graney’s staging was just subversive enough that it delivered the message effectively without sarcastically undercutting it. The main thing, though, was Sullivan, whose final moments of blood and torment left me shaken.

I saw two of the three “Sea Plays” performed by the Brazilian group Companhia Triptal, Zona de Guerra (In the Zone and Cardiff (Bound East for Cardiff). (I missed Longa Viagem de Volta pra Casa (The Long Voyage Home).) The actors seemed like real sailors who had somehow become stranded inside this theater thousands of miles from their homes in Sao Paolo. At each of the plays I saw, they were singing sea shanties off stage as the audience came into the theater. Zona de Guerra effectively built up a sense of paranoia among the sailors. Cardiff was an intriguing theatrical adventure — but the lack of supertitles in that show made it difficult to follow along as the actors delivered the dialogue in Portuguese. The audience walked onto the stage for one scene and then went upstairs with the actors into a rehearsal room for the final scene. I enjoyed exploring the Goodman building during this show and watching the expressions on the faces of the actors. I just wish I’d understood what they were saying. I did read the synopsis beforehand, but that’s not the same thing.

The crowning moment of the whole festival, to me, was another play in a foreign language: Toneelgroep Amsterdam’s Rouw Siert Electra (Mourning Becomes Electra). It helped that the English supertitles were positioned on a wall behind the actors at just the right level to make it easy to read the words and watch the action simultaneously. And the lines were in close synch.

Directed by Ivo Van Hove, this production of Mourning came to Chicago about a week after The New York Times savagely ripped apart a different production of the same O’Neill play in New York. Whatever went wrong with that production, this one in Dutch was utterly amazing. Like many of the other post-modern shows in the Goodman’s O’Neill festival, Mourning had its share of stunts that distanced the audience somewhat from the material. An actor writing and drawing on an overhead projector. Characters exchanging some of their dialogue via instant messaging. The actors beginning each act with a ritual removing of their shoes. These are the sorts of stage devices that literally shout out to the audience, “What you’re watching is just a play!” But the real trick here was that the actors were completely believable, the emotions so deep in their faces and bodies that it was hard to see any line between the character’s skin and the actor inside. The drama came to life in physical gestures — as when one character slaps another, and then slaps again. And again and again. Like a jolt to the audience itself. The entire cast was excellent, but Halina Reijn’s manic-depressive, startlingly transformative performance as Lavinia Mannon deserves singling out. I don’t know when I’ll ever see Reijn or the other actors in this Amsterdam company perform again, but if I get the chance, I won’t miss it.

PHOTOS:
Hans Kesting and Halina Reijn in Rouw Siert Electra (Mourning Becomes Electra). Photo by Jan Versweyveld.
Jeremy Sher, Merrie Greenfield and Joe Dempsey in Strange Interlude. Photo by Eric Y. Exit.

Loney Dear at Schubas

Loney Dear is one of the best musical acts out of Sweden right now, and given how much great music is coming from Sweden, that’s saying a lot. Loney Dear (which is basically one guy, Emil Svanängen, with a backing band) came to Schubas Sunday night (March 1), playing a fabulous little show in the midst of a tour where most of Loney Dear’s gigs have been opening for Andrew Bird.

I’m just getting familiar with the songs on the new Loney Dear album, Dear John, but they were instantly infectious when Loney Dear played them on the Schubas stage. At its core, this music is gentle and pretty folk rock, with Svanängen singing soothing and lilting melodies in a falsetto. But Loney Dear has a more expansive sound than that, mixing in some electronics and upbeat rock rhythms. A cursory listen to Loney Dear’s records might lead you to expect a gossamer-thin sound, but the band was actually fairly loud and energetic Sunday night – but oh so quiet when Svanängen moved off-mike during two songs to sing and play his acoustic guitar without amplification.

The crowd sang along to the harmonies, and Svanängen was charmingly modest as he expressed his wonder at the reception his music was getting. The audience demanded two encores, and Loney Dear finished the night with “Sinister in a State of Hope,” one of my favorite songs from the 2007 album Loney, Noir. It was a joyous concert, one of those beautiful nights when bards and players from some distant land alight in our fair city to strum their guitars in one of our little rooms.
www.loneydear.com / myspace.com/loneydear

It was nice to see opening act Anni Rossi again – just nine days after she opened for Deer Tick and Future Clouds and Radar at the Empty Bottle – with a more respectful audience. This time, people actually listened as she performed her quirky, uncoventional music on vocals and viola, including an Ace of Bass cover. myspace.com/annirossi

Photos of Loney Dear and Anni Rossi.

Aqueduct and Foundry

Aqueduct headlined Friday (Feb. 27) at Schubas. I’ve seen this band (i.e. David Terry) three times now and listened to its/his 2007 album Or Give Me Death, and I’m still not sure exactly what to make of Aqueduct. Terry has some catchy melodies, and a good sense of humor, but he also has a tendency toward cheesiness. That’s part of the humor, I guess, but I wonder what Terry would be capable of if he held back on the jokes for one night. Anyway, Aqueduct drew a very enthusiastic, young crowd Friday with a number of fans dancing wildly. So I guess he must be doing something right.

The first band of the night was Light Pollution. I see so many bands that I sometimes forget who I’ve seen, and Light Pollution was one band that rang a slight bell in my memory. But I couldn’t quite recall whether I’d seen Light Pollution before. Later, I had to check my own blog’s archive here to figure out that I’d seen Light Pollution opening for Malajube at the Empty Bottle in 2007. Seeing them again, I enjoyed their jangly sound.

Second up was the Foundry Field Recordings, from Columbia, Missouri. The main guy in this band, Billy Schuh, had a new set of backing players with him, who are also in a band called Bald Eagle (not DJ Bald Eagle, as they pointed out). I liked their music, which had a bit of a 1980s XTC feel to it.

Photos of Aqueduct, the Foundry Field Recordings and Light Pollution.