Last week, you might’ve caught my first impressions of Austin during a quick, three-day jaunt for the City Limits festival. After a debaucherous night on the town swillin’ Tecate and tequila, it was time to get on with the gettin’ on. Under time and money constraints, we only bought tickets for Saturday—each day was eighty-freakin’-bucks, for cryin’ out loud. Two words on the environment: hot and crowded. Like, 92 degrees hot and 75,000 people crowded. But given that ACL was the most organized music festival I’d ever experienced, we still had a great time and I’d do it again; provided I’d already been to SXSW first, and especially if the smuggling was just as easy. Everything from the free shuttle to massive Zilker Park where the concert is held, to the well-staggered lineups, to the many misting machines, to the lack of security made it no fuss/no muss for almost any concert-goer. Of course, if you’re not careful, you might get frantically lost for fifteen minutes if you forget to go anywhere without your companions. And don’t use the flags as landmarks—they will move.
We arrived around 2pm just in time to do a once-around of the eight stage outdoor venue, and headed over to watch Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings funk the place out. This band, with their dapper, bygone-era makeup and their popular diva as the primary draw, put on an exuberant, entertaining set of classic funk, soul, and rhythm & blues. Ms. Jones kicked her shoes off and burned up the stage with her dance moves, twice beckoning clunky white guys from stage left to freak with her to the beats. Just like the Godfather of Soul, it was hot and it was FUNKY.
Our view from the waaaaaaaaay back. We still got funky.
Next up we saw Brazilian spaz-rockers CSS. I’m an avid fan of both of their records but had never seen them live. While the sound at their stage was not the greatest, the playfulness and the organic nature of their performance were, as Lovefoxx would exclaim, TOTALLY AWESOME! Hotter than Brazil, she even said. The Bjork-esque frontwoman came out in a hilariously ridiculous flowered spandex one-piece—which she’s done before—and played the crowd like a fiddle. The band rocked their way to fan-pleasing set and finished far too soon for my ears.
AP Photo Balloons!
Apparently, Brooklyn’s latest favorite sons MGMT had the largest non-headlining crowd of the festival. I do not doubt it. While resting our feet and waiting for the show to start, we were abruptly stepped on no less than 10 times by fleshy, inconsiderate jerk-offs. But, after a slow start, the band picked it up and had the crowd enthralled. Theirs is a sound difficult to pin down, but spacey guitar pop comes to mind, and when they played “Electric Feel” from Oracular Spectacular, the chorus (”Ooh girl / Shock me like an electric eel / Baby girl / Turn me on with your electric feel”) was stuck in my head all week long. Give their album a whirl, it’s pretty tight.
MGMT on the TV The massive crowd
After scarfing some delicious Texas BBQ (regrettably sans Texas Toast) and three or four 24 oz. Lone Stars, we were well lubricated for the burning, yearning blues rock from the Black Keys. I’m pretty much a casual fan of this band—heard all the records but don’t own any, seen them once before back in ‘04—but they delivered an astonishingly immaculate performance that I won’t soon forget. I guess they’ve come a long way since that Bumbershoot set I witnessed, because Dan Auerbach crooned so passionately and wailed on his guitar with such an incautious power that only his drummer Pat Carney could possibly keep up. Honestly, I was pretty blown by that point, and really only recall “Psychotic Girl” specifically being played, but I do know that their set wasn’t dominated by Attack & Release. Best show of the day for me.
We ended the night watching rock demigod Robert Plant fill out his leather pants while making sweet musical love to Alison Krauss (too crass?). It was somewhat of a pinnacle experience for me, having never seen any live Zeppelin members in concert. The two were combined greatness, and I didn’t even recognize “Black Dog” when they played their alternate version of it. I guess I need the album. Unfortunately, this is about the time when I got lost and never quite recovered to full concentration on the show. What I remember was pretty rad, though. ACL or Bust, right??
Seattle’s own beat maker extraordinaire Jake One is releasing his new album (on Rhymesayers) full of absolute hEaTrAwkS tonight at the War Room. I haven’t had a chance to listen to the full album yet, but the songs I have heard are enough to make me want to keep my day job. I will have a full review up as soon as I digest this masterpiece fully…but in the meantime, get your ass down to the War Room and celebrate a truly momentous occasion and the biggest thing to come outta Seattle hip hop since the Chief Boot Knocka.
The local music landscape just got a little bit more boring. The spandex-sportin’, trash-talkin’ gals in the electro-rock freak-show that is the Trucks have decided to call it quits. I, for one, lament this silly decision and will chide the band should I ever run into them on the street (god help them).
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The official “statement” from the band:
. holy crap, what a shocker! who woulda thought four shy girls who didn’t even know how to play their instruments could hop up on the stage and fuck the shit up! we were just some self-entertained girls who wanted to play fancy trannie dress-up and have a collective cow, saw a stage vacancy and ka-bow! in the eventful 5 years since, we learned to (pretty much) play our instruments, though some “critics” may argue. we have been through a lot together, lived, loved, learned, and burned, all in a dirty little church van. we’ve seen the good old USA, played with great bands, made a lot of good friends, and always enjoyed coming home. but the last year has found us all living in different cities, and wandering in different directions. change is in the air, and it feels good. we love our band, and each other, and our fans, but it’s time to hunker down and re-invent. into what? you never know, but i’ll give you some hints. marissa is building a bomb shelter full of comics and xylophones, kristin’s singin’ and cleanin’ and bustin’ her face on the disco dance floor, faitie’s gearing up for the next bout of tizzies, painting her dream animals and writing songs about armageddon, and lindy’s eating beers and getting some hard-core nookie while other bands are bustin the door down to get her. we are super excited about our last few shows, and we’ll be busy the next few months getting our newest songs out, so watch for an EP and some special see-ya surprises. we love you! thank you so much! love the trucks .
One of their, uh, sexy tracks: Titties - the Trucks
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They’ll have three more shows before officially giving their successful run the ol’ heave-ho:
*Oct 11 2008 @ Chop Suey w/ A Gun That Shoots Knives
*Nov 7 2008 @ Wonder Ballroom in Portland (Siren Music Festival)
*Nov 8 2008 @ the Nightlight in Bellingham
Try to make it out for one of these farewells and then keep an eye out for a “posthumous” EP hitting the shelves.
[Guest post by misterlevitan's brother, Little Murph]
Last week I was in town visiting my older brother. He moved here 12 years ago with his Sub Pop Loser T-shirt, flannels, and ridiculous black boots just in time for his favorite band, Soundgarden, to break up. I remember him coming home for winter break that first year nearly in tears because that band had postponed their two-night-stand downtown for a week, and he had to give his tickets away.
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So as a Southern California resident who lives on the beach in Malibu and drives a full-size V8 truck, you probably aren’t surprised when I say that I don’t “get it”, this thing about Seattle, why you guys drink coffee all morning and yellow beer at night. So when I got to my brother’s house from the airport (he made me take the bus, don’t cha know) I wasn’t really sure what to expect when he said that he had just bought tickets for a band called Hater. He said something like “this band has 50% of Soundgarden’s roster”. “Oh boy. I can’t wait ’til they play Spoonman“, I said. He promised that they wouldn’t. Ever the fanboy mouth-breather on all things Soundgarden, he said that a third member of the group, that bearded dude with the backwards baseball cap, would be there too. .
Whoop dee doo. .
So Tuesday night we got some burgers at some hardware store, drank a bunch of Rainier tall boys (don’t you people like pint glasses?) and kept running into all these motherfuckers that my brother knew. (Does everyone live in Ballard?) We got to the Tractor Tavern just in time to see the last few songs of The Cops set. Those guys were pretty damned good, too. I scanned the room: not a tattered Badmotorfinger t-shirt in sight. I don’t know what your shows usually look like, but these grunge legend dudes (I hate that g-word) sure didn’t attract a full house. In my week here, I had become accustomed to the sight of Death Cab for Cutie fans with their omnipresent Blackberrys and hipster uniforms. This Tractor was all about straight-ahead blue-collar rock-and-fucking roll. .
The band rolled right into their first song [Jethro Tull's "A New Day Yesterday" - ed.] and I guess I couldn’t help but laugh a little to myself. Not at the band - they were pretty badass. I’d just watched that Cameron Crowe movie about Seattle music with my girlfriend this summer, and this little club scene was totally just like that concert part of the movie. Just shorter hair, and this lead singer guy doesn’t appear to be skipping any meals. And just like in that movie, the crowd at the Tractor stood fixed in place, reverently nodding their heads to the slow, thunderous dirge coming from the stage. They only played for about an hour, but it was solid. After the show, my brother swiped the set list off of the stage and he told me that their performance was a mix of old songs, and well, older songs. .
Now I loves me some AC/DC, Zeppelin, MC5, “Fun House” by The Stooges. Listening to this band, a footnote in the history of local rock, I could hear them channel the spirit of those far-better-known masters. What was sweet was the lack of a big sweaty crowd, an expensive ticket, overpriced beer in a plastic cup, dickhead security guys in a distant soulless venue, shit parking, and the associated bullshit of a major-label band’s tour. Is that what you people are so proud of here? If it is, I guess that’s why I think I do get it. .
Just before getting on the plane Wednesday night, I caught my reflection in a window of a shop in the airport. Ho Lee Shit. I saw my out-of-place-for-LA beard and backwards trucker hat in a whole new light. Can’t wait to come back.
In case you were inadvertently left off my travel plans, I journeyed down to Texas for the renowned three-day Austin City Limits Festival this past weekend. I had never been to Texas for any length of time longer than a Dallas/Ft. Worth layover (mostly by choice, but also a bit by chance). Texas is all well and good, I suppose, but let’s you and me be honest: the rain-soaked liberals of the PacNW don’t exactly jive with the bold and beautiful conservatism of the Lone Star state. Of course, Austin has a wide reputation of being the state’s creative and eclectic counterweight to its overbearing “God, guns, and family” mantra. As I found out, the city’s reputation holds pretty true.
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Not only is Austin an oasis in the Texan desert, but it’s also touted as the live music capital of the world. THE WORLD, PEOPLE. I uncovered that to simply mean there is some sort of country-blues-rock playing just about everywhere—bars, restaurants, clubs, coffee shops, airports. That you always have a live music option in Austin is great, and makes for a vibrant town, but (biased opinion coming) I think Seattle has a leg up on overall sonic diversity. Obviously, I was only there for a long weekend, but our town’s plentiful mix of rock, hip-hop, electronica, and musical miscellany is truly unique.
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As far as we could tell, there are three main entertainment boroughs in Austin: 6th Street, Red River Street, and South Congress Avenue (SoCo to the hip and local). 6th Street is like the U-District’s Ave by day and Bourbon St. by night; Red River has scattered clubs, the most notable being Stubbs and Emo’s; and SoCo is a bit more like Fremont—boutiques, quirky shops and hotels, trendy restaurants, and a few cool bars. This is where we ended up Friday night at the Continental Club to see Ruby Dee and the Snakehandlers (from Seattle!) and Austin funksters Greyhounds.
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Ruby Dee was a bubbly, tattooed songstress growlin’, sassin’ and dancin’ her way through Jorge Harada’s alt-country, rockabilly twang. I think she freakin’ even did the splits. The rhythm section wasn’t too shabby either, and I thoroughly enjoyed their set. I suppose it could’ve been the dollar shots (which, we noticed, was a common promotion in Austin), but it was most likely the vibrant, swingin’ country honky-tonk coming through their tunes that put the swagger in our step. I’d wager Don Slack’s played them on Swingin’ Doors at least a few times. Lucky for us, they’ll be making their way back through Seattle at the end of the monthwith a show at the West Seattle Easy Street on 10/24 and another slot at Conor Byrnes on 11/21; presumably with their branded “unmentionables” for sale. Get ‘em while they hot!
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Greyhounds, on the other hand, were a three-piece, jazz-rock-soul fusion that initially blew us away with some impressive ivory-ticklin’, a zippy blues guitar, and ramshackle drum tactics. Dual pianist Andrew Trube sounded like the great Ray Charles and fancied his organ with flying, fluttering fingers. Unfortunately, their signature sound morphed into something too repetitive by the end of the set and we drunkenly staggered out the door, looking for the next adventure. Which would be this insanity.
65 local Seattle bands, 9 venues, 1 day.
October 4th has the fuse lit and is ready to go off. I’ve put up tunes from some of the bands we’d recommend you make an effort to catch to help get you jazzed. There are links to every band’s music so check out those you’ve never heard before and find some new favorites.
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There have been a bunch changes to the schedule and some additions, including See Me River at the Tractor and Liars Club at the Bit-that not even the organizers seem to know about (see 4:30 at the Bit). Also notice that Triple has been removed as a venue. The shows that WERE there have been spread around to the other venues. Below we have the finalized schedule for all the venues involved. I’ve already found some new favorites. You can get a wristband for all of EIGHT BUCKS that will get you into any of the venues (space permitting)
Well, it looks like Tacoma is now getting in on the action, with a little music festival of their own. I say “little”, but the very first Squeak & Squawk Festival is happening October 16th through the 20th with over 30 bands in four awesome-smelling locations. I might’ve added that part about the smelling. What? Face it, Tacoma smells. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it—it fucking smells. BUT, they also have a really handsome glass museum (Dale Chihuly ring any bells?) right near the water, a festive little marathon complete with 10k option, an up-and-coming downtown district, and a rock venue that’s shaped like a coffee pot. Sounds nice and eclectic to me. Plus the name of the jilted city-that-never-was comes from a Native American word that refers to Mt. Rainier being “Mother of the Waters”, what with all the melting snow and such. As a local, you should know that sort of thing.
I’m not sure I’ve been to a show in Tacoma—strike that, I went to Jazzbones once—but this is a mighty attractive bill to try and pass up. As I mentioned, the list is long, but my personal recommendations would be the Dutchess & the Duke, Partman Parthorse, Talbot Tagora, New Faces, and South Sound legend Calvin Johnson. I’m sure there are a couple other names on that list you might be just dying to see.
The Portland Cello Project will begin the festivities at noon on the 16th in the lovely Wright Park. If you work in Tacoma, you might just spend your lunch hour feeling classical and modern all at the same time. The concert is curated by The Helm Gallery and The New Frontier (located at 301 E 25th St), where the majority of the shows will be taking place. A slightly hilarious quote from the Helm’s blog about its intentions:
“We believe Tacoma is a great place to play music and that our reputation on the outside as a ‘dangerous’ and somewhat ‘worthless’ community is long overdue for change.”
Full schedule with lineups, times and locations after the jump.
They’re an unconventional trio of bass, keyboards and rhythm with vocals primarily from Aaron Poppick that would be just as well suited for cursing the Gods from upon mountain high as they are for cracking the paint in the local venues. It teeters on the edge of self destruction - a cigarette ash 3 inches long, but still hot. Julian Thomas’ keyboards are from a psychedelic era your dad avoids talking about. Dripping with sweat and the foam of a rabid dog. The bass, again from Aaron Poppick, and drum of Kevin R. Lord create rhythmic drones that rattle the bones. They strike a primal chord in the soul, reverting it to a time when strength and teeth decided the ruling class. The songs themselves are deliberate as a steam engine. They evoke images of drafty candle lit rooms in an dilapidated inn where downstairs men obsess over broken dreams obscured by rivers of drink. The name, Blood Red Dancers is partially derived from the legends of aboriginals that would paint themselves in the blood of their enemies for celebratory dances. How’s that for imagery…Even their attire of cuffed shirts, slacks and suspenders casts them into a time before any of us can remember, right down to a dollop of palm-aide greasing back the hair. .
This is not music to dance to, but it is music that will move you. You can download their free EPLet Him Fight, I’ll be in the Breadline, here. It’s broody, evocative and heavy hearted. To give it a sound, I’d say mix a little Doors, a little Tom Waits, and a little Elvis on a hella-fuggin-drug bender. Wham there you have it. Surprisingly though, the players themselves seem to dump all this out of their system while on stage. Out of the light, they’ve got a easy view of the world, contagious sense of humor and are interested in things you expect a group of fellas to be interested in; drinking, low cut blouses, listening to music, drinking and listening to music while looking above the low cut of a blouse. You know, the usual. .
They have been friends since they were little, all playing and listening to music together since we were kids. Julian is both jazz and classically trained on piano. Aaron has been playing bass for ten years. Kevin’s primary instrument was not the drums but they came naturally to him. Lucky us. .
Currently Blood Red Dancers are tearing up the local circuit and playing a ton of shows around Seattle. You can catch them at any or all of the shows listed below. I’d recommend grabbing their free EP here to whet the pallet. .
Oct 4 - 4:00P @ REVERB Music Festival @ the Sunset Tavern
Oct 9 - 9:00P @ The Funhouse
Oct 18 - 6:00P @ the KEXP’s Audioasis at the Highdive
Nov 13 - 9:00P @ The Comet
Deerhoof is more than just a progressive band, they are actually a driving force for OTHER bnds to create progressive music. Their initial single from the upcoming album, Offend Maggie was released first as sheet music. The result was 39 cover versions of every possible description having been created and posted to their site. On sept 30th, the world will get to hear Deerhoof’s original version as the album hits shelves. .
If you’ve never heard of Deerhoof, they are a Bay area 4 piece with Japanese/English lyrics from the frontwoman Satomi Matsuzaki. There have been comparisons made with Stereolab and Captain Beefheart and they are typically classified as indie rock, but the unconventional nature of Deerhoof’s music makes a genre label difficult. The music contains just as many beeps and click as lyrics. It’s a concise patchwork of odd harmonies and disjointed melodies. More avante garde and pop craziness than indie can ever account for, in my opinion. .
For those of you who already know all this drivvel, I’ve got something that JUST might pique your interest. A pair of guest list spots to the upcoming show at Neumos on October 7th. To enter the drawing, email me with DEERHOOF in the subject. Winner will be picked at random and notified Thursday morning and posted in the “Contests” area.
Don’t ask me why, but the first comparison that came to my head for the lead singer of War Tapes is a mix of Morrisey and Glen Danzig, and put those two together, you’re bound to have a damn entertaining live performance! That’s exactly what I thought the first time I listened to the their eponymous EP release. A polished rhythm and the deep guttural voice of Neil Popkin leads one to believe that this is a band that has put a lot of work into delivering their unique sound. According to their MySpace page, they describe their own sound as ‘Doom Pop’, and a comparison to Danzig certainly lends credence to that description, but it’s hard for me to label their sound as such when listening to the focused precision they put into all their instruments. I definitely sense some angst and longing in their music and lyrics, but there is no doubt this is a band that enjoys playing their style, which just doesn’t mesh with the ‘doom and gloom’ genre. .
It’s not often a band comes along that highlights all their instruments at once, and for this reason I can’t wait to see War Tapes live. The typical style of a performance is for the lead singer to be in the spotlight, and slightly steps away when the guitarist gets his (or her) time for a two-minute solo. I heard something unique in the song ‘Start Again’, guitarist Mark Bennett really carries the song with his slightly punk-influenced guitar playing, and the song is such that Popkin’s voice almost is meant to be the back-drop, that maybe gets a bit of time for his own solo. Solidly holding the rhythm together are Becca Popkin, whose new-wave inspired bass playing and subtle back-up vocals compliment her brother’s singing, as well as William Mohler, a drummer who brings to mind the style of Keith Moon which isn’t concerned with solely keeping up the rhythm.
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I haven’t seen any dates where they’re playing in the Pacific Northwest, but I definitely want to keep my ear to the ground for this band, and I recommend you do as well!
I admit, I haven’t been a Nick Cave fan for years and years on end; in fact, I only heard the Birthday Party for the first time a few winters ago. And I don’t necessarily identify with the ripened Goth contingent (still sporting black lipstick, mind you) that has fastidiously followed him and managed to snatch up all the tickets before the all-ages crowd could say “murder”. The man commands respect, however, and I dove in head first with his disgustingly lovelorn and unhinged side project, Grinderman, last year. Needless to say, it sparked a sort of severe interest this brain hasn’t seen since it discovered David Bowie, the statuesque glam-queen by whom all other bold, iconic musicians I now judge.
No, Cave doesn’t have the same history and widespread appeal that the Thin White Duke has enjoyed over time, but as his work with three successful bands and on countless film scores over the span of thirty-five years (!) would suggest, the old bugger obsessed with “pussy, murder, and God” has definite staying power. And the other night at the Showbox Sodo (9/23), the greasy, grimy character and his cohorts showed us exactly how it’s done.
The show began with a new Bad Seeds murder ballad from Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!, the ominous “Night of the Lotus Eaters”, dark blue lighting enhanced by Martyn Casey’s dark, unwavering bass line. The title track from the record came next, and, honestly, it wasn’t nearly as impactful as the studio version. They changed up the instrumentation somewhat (which would be a general theme for the rest of the set), and it came across a bit hurried. Nevertheless, the intensity of the band would soon increase and the struttin’ and pacing, pointing and cursing of Cave would follow.
Despite the overwhelming presence of the perpetually vexed Aussie entertaining the crowd with his brash and boozy storytelling, the band was certainly able to keep up with the pace. Mick Harvey, one of the two original Seeds along with Cave, switched continuously from electric to acoustic to keyboard; Jim Sclavunos manned two of three (!) drumkits, one of which was a set of conga drums; and Warren Ellis—the Charles-Manson-with-a-boudoir lookin’ guy—absolutely tore it up on his guitar. Not to mention his work with the violin (both with finger and bow), coffee can, and Jethro Tull-style rock flute. As pictured below.
The set list the band put together consisted of several tracks off Dig!!! and then one or two from some of the older records like Tender Prey, The Good Son,and Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus. One notable omission was anything from Let Love In, which, along with Murder Ballads, is the trademark record for this band. Despite that exclusion, however, the older cuts they did manage to play were fantastic and filled with passion and power. “Stagger Lee” showed Cave at his indulgent showman best; “The Mercy Seat” and “The Lyre of Orpheus” got the crowd emphatically singing along; “Get Ready For Love” rocked from beginning to end; and “The Weeping Song”, maybe the highlight, was turned up a few notches to match the rowdy spirit rolling through the venue.
In short, the band was tighter than the vintage pinstripe suit Nick Cave sported.
Local legends Common Market are on tour touting their newest release, “Tobacco Road” and will be appearing with Shawn Jackson and People Under the Stairs. Make no mistake, this is another outstanding value for a show in a time when cheeseburgers can be twenty bucks and a 22oz of good brew is $5 at the market. .
All three acts are on tour with new material. Common Market, featuring RA Scion and Sabzi, has a solid new set of tracks in “Tobacco Road”, and it outshines the last effort of Sabzi’s other project, the respected Blue Scholars. Somethin’ in the way of Scion’s delivery… this LP should make Seattle fans of hip hop proud. .
There’s been some noise here recently about Fun DMC, from People Under the Stairs, so all I can say is get on down there and give it it’s due. Really solid hip hop from LA. And Shawn Jackson’s record, produced with help from PUTS, is a little harder-hitting than the other two acts. Expect to see a movin’ crowd when he’s on stage.
Last week, you might’ve caught my first impressions of Austin during a quick, three-day jaunt for the City Limits festival. After a debaucherous night on the town swillin’ Tecate and tequila, it was time to get on with the gettin’ on. Under time and money constraints, we only bought tickets for Saturday—each day was eighty-freakin’-bucks, for cryin’ out loud. Two words on the environment: hot and crowded. Like, 92 degrees hot and 75,000 people crowded. But given that ACL was the most organized music festival I’d ever experienced, we still had a great time and I’d do it again; provided I’d already been to SXSW first, and especially if the smuggling was just as easy. Everything from the free shuttle to massive Zilker Park where the concert is held, to the well-staggered lineups, to the many misting machines, to the lack of security made it no fuss/no muss for almost any concert-goer. Of course, if you’re not careful, you might get frantically lost for fifteen minutes if you forget to go anywhere without your companions. And don’t use the flags as landmarks—they will move.
Seattle’s own beat maker extraordinaire 
The local music landscape just got a little bit more boring. The spandex-sportin’, trash-talkin’ gals in the electro-rock freak-show that is 
In case you were inadvertently left off my travel plans, I journeyed down to Texas for the renowned three-day Austin City Limits Festival this past weekend. I had never been to Texas for any length of time longer than a Dallas/Ft. Worth layover (mostly by choice, but also a bit by chance). Texas is all well and good, I suppose, but let’s you and me be honest: the rain-soaked liberals of the PacNW don’t exactly jive with the bold and beautiful conservatism of the Lone Star state. Of course, Austin has a wide reputation of being the state’s creative and eclectic counterweight to its overbearing “God, guns, and family” mantra. As I found out, the city’s reputation holds pretty true.
65 local Seattle bands, 9 venues, 1 day.
