One can’t witness the charming spectacle of lead singer Eddie Argos without thinking of a reincarnated (though straight) version of Oscar Wilde.
Just days before the release of their sophomore album Nothing is Wrong, rising Americana heroes Dawes loped onto the Vic Theatre stage in Chicago to play a set full of Taylor Goldsmith‘s new “heartbreak songs.”
Keren Ann is somewhat of an atypical chanteuse.
The Melvins take their endless residency to a half dozen fortunate cities and play five seminal and separate recordings from 1991-1994.
Frontman Jack Grisham had a maniacal, almost demonic grin on his face the whole time and was clearly enjoying himself on this evening.
Simply put, there’s no other band like them in the entire universe.
Costello and his band took the stage and blazed through four songs, opening with “I Hope You’re Happy Now”.
Swedish songstress Lykke Li blends a hypnotic mix of tightly-wound pop songs and dance floor fever.
Low’s sparse arrangements has always made live performances tricky, in my opinion, as poor sound or quirky venues has often exaggerated the ‘space’ in their music. This evening, however, the sound was stellar.
Featuring just Eleanor on lead vocals and Matt on piano and backing (and occasional lead) vocals, this was Fiery Furnaces stripped down to the core.
He also tackled Hüsker Dü‘s “Could You Be the One”? and Lungfish’s “To Whom You Were Born”.
He emerged like a half-remembered American nightmare: striped tights over black Speedo, leather jacket, cap and bowtie, “Hunx” scrawled in pink lipstick across his chest, penciled-on mustache à la John Waters and pitch-black hair…
A perfectly balanced double bill, almost too much for the strongly beating heart.
Low has a fan in Robert Plant, and with good reason. The MN-based band delivers a slow, silent killing using a brush, a mallet, some strings and some skins.
Fun fact: Kim Deal mentioned she has a sister who lived in St. Paul for nine years, on Grand Avenue. Could she have meant equally rad sis Kelley?
The performances of “Graffiti,” “No Pain No Gain” and “Late Night” completely obliterated their recorded versions.
Low sings many of their songs as if they have an anguish to share with their very willing fans. After 4 years of staying away from these parts, the audience at Lincoln Hall was more than eager to listen.
A sound with no extra fat, and its embodiment in the frighteningly muscled arms of Robert Grey (formerly Gotobed), the Clint Eastwood of drummers.
Something transcendent was implied, I believe, in the night’s most interesting visual element, more transfixing even than all the bright lights: the slow soaking with sweat of Dan Whitford’s button-down shirt, turning dark outward from the armpits until no dry spot remained.
When Kim Deal played the opening notes of “Debaser” the place just exploded, and the intensity did not go down until the house lights went up almost two hours later.
This is a band whose upside is high enough that you’ll need an altimeter to accurately gauge it; don’t miss the chance to see them in a small club while you can.
Van Etten has the ability to carry a show on her own and has demonstrated this many times.
The encore consisted mostly of guitarist Tom Watson singing a set of Minutemen classics.
The Joy Formidable may look to have a simple more bare bones set up compared to a great deal of indie bands today. The three piece is comprised only of drums, guitar, and bass and while some of their guitar pedals create a sense of spiraling near shoegaze effect for some of the songs, the structure seems first and foremost and a clear sense of a very accessible and strong sounding rock band emerges.
For those who haven’t witnessed the sheer blitzkrieg of noise that emanates from just these two men, you can’t be prepared for it. The crowd was struck and bludgeoned by the mighty Lightning Bolt.
Five men, three acts, the cold north, and the Friendship Principle.
It’s difficult not to notice the professional musicianship inherent in many bands from Canada these days. Toronto’s four piece, The Golden Dogs, is no exception. Like fellow Canadians Sloan, the band members switch up instruments without ever missing a beat and deliver on rock moves that might seem cheesy if the band didn’t seem to be so obviously having a great time. With that kind of joy projected, the feel good vibes are infectious and made for a perfect Saturday night musical experience.
I suppose it was inevitable that I would someday soon witness the iPad keyboard app used live in concert, and now I have, the Trash Can Sinatras being the unlikely conjurers of the winds of change.
On the surface, the pairing of veteran singer/songwriters Jill Sobule and John Doe seems, well, odd. In reality, though, nothing could be further from the truth.
Much more dynamic, energetic and confident as a live band now than in their earlier days, Pains are now a bona-fide headlining act.
Lou Barlow and Jason Lowenstein set the clock back to 1994 and give us the best of Sebadoh’s Bakesale and Harmacy.
Gosh, he even took an early break, in lieu of a break before the encore, for his explicitly stated “need to pee,” and then came back to the stage and continued to play with a purity that had no memory of bodily functions.
Tonight began with one of those wake-up calls that made me realize how disconnected I am from whatever’s making a buzzing noise in the music world.
A bicycle shop isn’t the first place one might think to find a great rock & roll performance, but in a town like Austin, every building is a potential music club.
Local café the Spider House has become particularly busy with SXSW every year, hosting a ton of free shows with some great acts, including this afternoon’s Australian-heavy lineup.
Attendance seems to be up this year, which will make show attendance more challenging, but, as usual, there’s too many good gigs happening not to try.
Wild Nothing, the brain child of Virginia’s Jack Tatum, has been to Chicago before but this is the first time he’s come with a secured headlining gig. Tatum more than deserves all acclaim considering the strong release of 2010’s Gemini. He’s only claiming his natural spot in an indie rock kingdom meant for blissful pop music. For, Wild Nothing is an appropriate band name, not because the music disintegrates with a reckless abandon, though one might see Tatum pursuing that direction in the future. Instead, the title suggests a sweet reverie like a piece of chocolate that melts in your mouth. Gone forever, sure, but it’s the kind of thing a longer of lush treats truly appreciates.
The show hit its peak with “The Disillusionist” featuring Kilbey’s off-mic vocals at the end of the song.
“We are Motörhead, we do not have beer thrown at us.” Lemmy Kilmister
She wowed the packed house with a set comprised mostly of epic showstoppers like “A Crime” and “Don’t Do It”.
This was a unique night featuring children with a median age of 12 or 13 singing classic punk songs.
This show was somewhat of a disappointment, though it was far from bad.
In the realm of back-catalog-heavy concerts by veteran artists, this definitely fell under the category of “nostalgia trip,” but some unresolved questions linger.
Chart-topping (how weird does that sound?) PacNW band The Decemberists play the first of two sold-out shows in Boston, in support of The King Is Dead.
Two sides of David Lowery’s songwriting talent, two albums delivered in full.
The High Dials are largely a band of unsung heroes, led consistently by the brilliant Trevor Anderson, who was previously known for his work with the band The Datsuns. The Montréal five piece have recently released their fourth full length album, 2010’s Anthems For Doomed Youth and visited Chicago to play some of their new songs as well as old favorites last Saturday night.
One hell of a performance filled with amazing songs and movie quotes. The David Koresh jokes were practically redundant since most of the crowd, myself included of course, was already drinking the Kool-Aid.
