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Straight to Video
Rock Art Rock
The Decemberists
September 19, 2009
Terminal 5, New York, NY
By Amanda Hatfield "The Decemberists played a special one night 'lottery show,' where the songs played were picked at random by a master of ceremonies, played by John Wesley Harding..."
Ra Ra Riot
April 4, 2009
Webster Hall, New York City, NY
By Amanda Hatfield "This show was, at the time, the biggest one Ra Ra Riot had sold out as headliners, and it was clear to me after watching it that the band is destined for even bigger and better things..."
Florence and the Machine
October 28, 2009
Bowery Ballroom, New York City, NY
By Amanda Hatfield "Florence Welsh and her backing band delighted and mesmerized a sold-out crowd at Bowery in her first official NY headlining show..."
Dirty Projectors
July 19, 2009
Williamsburg Waterfront (Brooklyn, NY)
By Amanda Hatfield "I was skeptical about how well Dirty Projectors' gorgeous, complex vocal harmonies would carry over outdoors, standing under hot sunshine..."
See more in the Rock Art Rock gallery.
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Search results for: Mark Lanegan
Hey Lead Belly, Bam Ba Lam
“I’m obsessed with him. He’s my favorite performer,” said Kurt Cobain. “No Lead Belly, no Beatles,” claimed George Harrison, and the same may as well be said for Led Zeppelin, as Jimmy Page was rocking “Cotton Fields” back in 1957. According to Van Morrison, “If it wasn’t for Lead Belly, I may never have been here.” And yet, Lead Belly—born Huddie Ledbetter near Mooringsport, Louisiana in 1888—is rarely the first traditional American musician historians credit with the creation of rock ‘n’ roll or the bands of the British Invasion. His contribution to rock is as fundamental and profound as those of Robert Johnson and Muddy Waters, so why is it we don’t hear that much anymore about his legend? Perhaps it can be blamed on the boll weevil he sung about—and it indeed may have something to do with cotton—though the diminishment of Lead Belly’s influence on rock is likely just another case of the forgotten origins of song.
The Louisianan’s sound first came to impact the young lads who would go on to form the classic rock bands of the ’60s via the British Isle’s mid-’50s skiffle craze. Rooted in the jug band style of the 1920s, skiffle’s homemade and improvised style relied on the wacky sounds of household items like washboard, comb, and homemade instruments—the stuff that makes for its irresistible, ecstatic sound. Glaswegian Lonnie Donegan’s frantic version of “Rock Island Line”, first popularized by Lead Belly, swept across the land like skiffle-mania, boosting guitar sales and launching a thousand bands, like young Jim Page’s combo as well as the Quarrymen (who we all know by now birthed the Beatles). For Morrison—who’d already developed a taste for the blues voices of the American South—skiffle provided confirmation of the potential for what an Irishman could do with a black American folk sound. The Lead Belly repertoire meeting English skiffle marked the beginning of his long association with rock ‘n’ roll; though stateside he was more of a singular phenomenon, as well as a folker.
NOFX
NOFX
Coaster
(Fat Wreck Chords, 2009)
2009. The number. Another summer. Sound of… well, in 1989, it was the funky drummer. In 1999, it was Y2K hype. Remember? Web URLs as album titles (www.thug.com is a favorite), Will Smith sampling the Clash for not-quite-a-smash “Will 2K” (on an album called Willennium no less). And in 2009, the decade-shedding skin du jour is, with the release of NOFX’s Coaster, mocking the end of the music industry. One of their meanest jokes yet, the band points out their own commodity’s uselessness by calling their new album a coaster before I can, and showing how well it complements a scotch on the cover, with the disc itself dressed like the titular drink holder. The vinyl one’s called Frisbee. And in the climactic song here, “One Million Coasters” (“One Million Frisbees” on vinyl I assume?), Fat Mike suggests they’d make great “guardrail reflectors” and “Christmas ornaments.” So long, labels.
And it’s easy to believe their humorous disdain, because they play like they couldn’t care less. They play punk-pop that went out of style three waves ago; Green Day’s trying to replicate the Who now, but everyone else is wearing eyeliner. Actually, Green Day are too. NOFX is still about beer, lesbians, speed; essentially Beavis and Butthead rock, without much of an angle this time. Having ousted Bush and the Republicans after a heavy few years of protest-rock and MoveOn.org benefit paraphernalia, mostly bored with ska (though they still indulge from time to time, not that that’s hip either), they settle for one jazz-inflected bouncer (“I Am an Alcoholic”) and scale back even the metal-ish shredding of last round’s Wolves in Wolves’ Clothing.
Noise Pop Day 2: Stephen Malkmus, Sleepy Sun, Papercuts, and more
Stephen Malkmus
February 25th at Great American Music Hall
Anyone who’s heard Stephen Malkmus, whether fronting Pavement or the Jicks, knows he’s an adventurous songwriter, but he was particularly anything-goes at the Great American Music Hall on Wednesday night. Following a relatively mellow acoustic set by local popster Kelley Stoltz, Malkmus came to the bare stage with an iBook in hand in place of a set list. “Hello, hello, it’s only me,” he said with a grin, an earnest greeting considering what followed: He turned out to have brought a hell of a lot more of his back catalogue along than anyone could have expected. Eyes collectively widened when he started the set with “Harness Your Hopes”, a Brighten the Corners-era Pavement B-side signaling something was most definitely up. He’s never really played this stuff since they broke up in 1999, with the famous exception (among fans, anyway!) of a 2003 gig with the Jicks in Milwaukee. Was there more to come? Yes!
The solo format clearly freed him up a bit as far as his repertoire: Alongside a few of his solo/Jicks tunes, including “Us”, the autumnal “Freeze the Saints”, a bit of “Vanessa From Queens”, and a lovely “Real Emotional Trash” (cut short by a broken D-string), he played 12 Pavement tunes, and for the most part, they weren’t even the “hits” per se. Mindful that anyone who’d dish to see him play a solo set likely digs the deep cuts, he came prepared eager to please fans: Selections ranged from “Spit on a Stranger” off of Terror Twilight to two of the four tracks off the Watery, Domestic EP, “Lions (Linden)” and “Shoot the Singer (1 Sick Verse)”, and even a Silver Jews number whose recording he sang on, “Blue Arrangements.”
Noise Pop Day 1 at Mezzanine: Deerhunter
Deerhunter and Lilofee
February 24th at Mezzanine
The opening party of Noise Pop 2009 brought together a small city’s music elite, the movers and shakers, the promoters and organizers, the likeminded aficionados and scene-setting hipsters, the industry folks, music press, and among the most impassioned of San Francisco’s music loving community. Currently in its 17th year, Noise Pop has come to represent a tireless commitment to independently released music, as shared by not only San Franciscans, but people across the nation who make the trek to the City by the Bay to share in the experience. Since last night was the kick off party, the energy was high and the conversation drunk and flowing, all under the guise of one thing: To celebrate music and the community it breeds and supports.
The “community” aspect of the festival is most visible on the opening party, because it’s the first night of the bash and the schmoozing and socializing is relentless. This night is only for badge holders or people who were on the ball early enough to RSVP to the free event, and the VIP space upstairs was stacked with folks involved in the festival and beyond. Old friends embrace, new friends meet and greet, acquaintances all share in the excitement that the week has to offer. After Live 105’s DJ Aaron Axelson spun some tunes for the imbibing bunch, San Francisco’s own Lilofee took to the stage. Lilofee is an electro power-pop four-piece fronted by a sassy female singer, Kimi Recor, whose theatrics are just barely second to her voice as she strutted and sprawled all over the stage to pumping bass beats and danceable rhythms, at one point pulling her panty hose off and flinging them into the crowd. Things got a little abrasive there for a minute, but Lilofee probably found themselves at home on the Mezzanine’s strobe-light flanked stage before young, high-energy scenesters who wanted nothing but to dance along to get warmed up for the week ahead.
Andrew Bird: February 19th at the Fillmore
Andrew Bird is a classically trained violinist and a deft multi-instrumentalist. His lyrics are deeply literate, almost professorial at times. The Chicago-based singer-songwriter has spoken in the past about the painstaking detail with which he records his albums, having twice scrapped his second solo release, 2005’s The Mysterious Production of Eggs, in its entirety.
Who knew he was also a mad scientist? In a 90-minute set at the Fillmore in San Francisco, the 35-year-old Bird showed that a combination of dexterity and a quest for recorded perfection has yielded a comfort level on stage that propels him to turn much of his music on its ear, jostling tempos, shifting arrangements, and generally operating like a deeply committed jazz improviser.
This show was the first of two sold-out nights at the Fillmore, as Bird has ridden a surge in popularity since last month’s release of his newest album, Noble Beast. But Bird’s rise has been no overnight sensation: Since 1995, he has released seven albums on various labels, as well as several EPs, live recordings, and more than 50 guest appearances for the likes of Squirrel Nut Zippers, Neko Case, and My Morning Jacket.
Mickey Clark
Mickey Clark
Winding Highways
(ear X-tacy, 2009)
Timing is everything. If Mickey Clark had gotten Jerry Jeff Walker to cut his snarky “Don’t Piss on My Boots (and Tell Me It’s Rainin’)” back in the ’70s, it could have become a cosmic cowboy anthem along the lines of “Up Against the Wall Redneck Mother.” Unhappily, it wasn’t written at that time, but Walker, John Prine, and Kinky Friedman do contribute harmony vocals and a bit of picking to the track, giving its swing arrangement the kick it needs to accent its acidic humor.
Clark has been playing guitar all his life, and while he’s had a few brushes with fame, he’s still a largely unknown artist. Hopefully, the 14 tunes on Winding Highways will help change that. Clark was born in Louisville, Kentucky and started playing folk and country music on his guitar before he’d turned 10. After graduate school at Purdue University, he started the Three of Us, a folk trio that toured the US and made a few ill-fated singles before disbanding. Clark went solo, played the folk and college folk circuit, and moved to Nashville, where he started writing songs. The Oak Ridge Boys cut his “She’s Gone to LA Again”, and “When I’m Over You”, a song from Late Arrival, his first solo album, grazed the bottom of the country charts. He had songs covered by Jerry Lee Lewis, Glenn Yarbrough, and the folk group Jericho Harp, but put music on hold to help raise his son. He didn’t start performing again until 2004.
Winding Highways started taking shape in early 2008. He put together a demo of his new songs, complemented by a few older tunes and some well-chosen covers, and enlisted Jim Rooney (John Prine, Nancy Griffith) to produce. He rounded up old and new friends like Jerry Jeff Walker, John Prine, and Robin and Linda Williams for this low-key charmer full of carefully crafted country, folk, and bluegrass-flavored songs delivered in Clark’s warm, honest tenor. “Don’t Piss on My Boots” may be the song that first jumps out at you, but it’s not the only hit on the album. “Tijuana Tequila”, a lighthearted ode to sex, drugs, and drink that rides a bouncy Tex-Mex is right up there, the kind of tune Jimmy Buffet could make a hit out of. “Sarah”, one of Clark’s old chestnuts, is also a winner, a solid country/R&B tune full of sadness and sorrow, sung by Clark at his most melancholy and complemented by a nasty, clanking electric guitar line.
“Shanty Boat Bill” is the tale of an aging river rat, a man with too many secrets and a shady past. Clark’s portrait shows a man who clings to his dignity despite his harsh circumstances. A trio of bluegrass tunes show off the songwriter’s traditional side. “Red Velvet Cake” tells of a single mother mourning her lost innocence, “Where the Green River Flows” takes a nostalgic, but clear-eyed look at the past, and “In the Blink of an Eye” details a rapidly fading romance. “Louise”, a Paul Siebel tune, is another tale about a fallen woman, and Clark gives it a despondent reading intensified by his broken-hearted yodeling.
He rounds out the set with a few cowboy songs. Michael Burton’s “Night Rider’s Lament” balances the hard life of a rounder with his love for the wide-open spaces of the west. His own “Rodeo Fool” looks at the life of a professional California cowpoke who spends his life on the road pining for his wife as he watches himself aging, and trying to drink away his troubles. Clark’s yodeling conveys the lonesome wail of his solitary hero as he wanders from town to town, risking his life for a few more dollars. Jerry Jeff Walker brings some bluesy harmonica, and Robin and Linda Williams add their burnished harmonies to the U. Utah Phillips standard “The Goodnight-Loving Trail”, a classic account of the Old West full of anger and anguish. It closes the album with another meditation on aging, loneliness, and hard work, with Clark’s vocal conveying a cowboy’s hope for a better tomorrow that he knows may never come.
Listen: Various Tracks [at myspace.com]
Tags: Mickey Clark, John Prine, Jerry Jeff Walker
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Sparks, Delta Spirit, NOFX, and Mark Lanegan and Greg Dulli
Sparks
February 14th at Royce Hall, UCLA
Following a string of 21 shows in London last summer over which they performed their entire discography back-to-back, Sparks’ Valentine’s Day homecoming to Los Angeles—a gig at their alma mater, UCLA—proved once again that, even after 39 years of recording, brothers Ron and Russell Mael still make some of the smartest, most compellingly ebullient pop out there.
The program’s first part was a performance of last year’s Exotic Creatures of the Deep, the band’s newest record, performed in an elaborate stage show featuring backup dancers and a picture-frame screen, as well as frames surrounding the members of the backing band, which included Steve McDonald of Redd Kross and members of Mother Superior. Exotic Creatures is not immediately engrossing on record, but in the live setting, it truly clicked—the mustachioed, eternally stolid Ron Mael, the band’s principal songwriter, did an interpretive dance for the swaying verses and chorus of “I Can’t Believe You Would Fall for All the Crap in This Song”, most humorously shaking his head in quiet, smug laughter during the refrain of the song’s title. Meanwhile, for “Photoshop” (chorus: “Photoshop me out of your life!”), he attempted to play a continually tweaked JPEG of a piano on the screen. Throughout the set, Russell bounded about the stage with his characteristic operatic voice and a sparkly energy that belies his age.
Isobel Campbell & Mark Lanegan
Isobel Campbell & Mark Lanegan
Sunday at Devil Dirt
(V2, 2008)
Plenty of male/female duos have played out the scenario of beauty meets beast to much success (the foremost comparison here being Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra)—a contrasting and yet not conflicting play on everyday situations that reveals humility and humanity in the most hardened of hearts. But not many (if any) have achieved the level of wanting purification to be found creeping out of the dark corners that seem to stretch out down avenues when Isobel Campbell (Belle and Sebastian) and Mark Lanegan (Screaming Trees) collaborate. If Lanegan is the confessional sinner looking for redemption, it is Campbell’s angelic voice that bathes his low-down drunkard’s plea in some sort of divine communion. Yes, it’s suggested that you put on Sunday at Devil Dirt when you’re home alone and down and out just after cracking open beer number six… or would it be seven? Hmm.
Actually, while there is something obviously biblical about this record, as if every song exists to depict epic existential moments, there’s a duality at play. While the focus is often on the beast, the beauty is not exactly chaste either. As Lanegan’s singing sits at the forefront of most songs, Campbell’s vocals often function as the wooer—the Catholic school girl gone bad, if you will—her delivery hardly convincing enough to suggest years of experience, but it does come off a little naughty, a little eyebrow-raising, that this innocent, sweet voice melds with a fiend like Lanegan as they sing in agreement things like “come over and turn me on,” such as in the song “Come On Over (Turn Me On).” One song in particular, “Shotgun Blues”, has Campbell singing solo to a piano and slide guitar that takes aim for the sultry breathiness of a songstress that’s spent the better part of her life in a smoky roadside tavern. She may not hit the mark exactly, but it’s nonetheless an enjoyably sad song that’ll put a tear in your beer.
In 2006, this duo released their first LP together, Ballad of the Broken Seas, where Campbell wrote all of the songs and they recorded their parts mostly separately, him in LA and her in Glasgow. That year the album was nominated for the Mercury Prize. Sunday at Devil Dirt is generally more of the same (she wrote all of the songs again, but this time they recorded them together in Glasgow), many of the songs steeped in seafaring references, much of it Lanegan’s show with Campbell utilizing her voice almost as if a post-production studio trick.
Some of the more outstanding moments on Sunday at Devil Dirt, a 12-track album with five bonus tracks, are found in songs like “Who Built the Road”, “The Flame That Burns”, “Keep Me in Mind, Sweetheart” (where claims that Lanegan can sometimes sound like John Prine live on), and especially “Trouble” and its follow-up, “Sally, Don’t You Cry.” “Trouble” opens up with Campbell and Lanegan harmonizing a few repeats of the line, “Trouble, oh trouble, haven’t slept a day in years.” And then later, “When the world steals all hope from you / Wonder where your dreams have gone to / You’re the one I still belong to / Listen why I love you.” Both sweet and honest, downbeat and yet hopeful, it’s the absolute most perfect loser-still-loved song. Luckily there are some bonus tracks, because for all the exorcising of demons this album portrays, it closes a second time with “Hang On.”
However, it must be said that for all that the vocals provide to this collaboration, it’s oftentimes the music itself that speaks the loudest. Like Bob Dylan’s song “Lay Down Your Weary Tune” admits, there are certain songs “no voice can hope to hum.” And that’s oftentimes the case here. While Mark Lanegan and Isobel Campbell seem to have something supernatural going on between them, it’s the musical arrangements—sometimes monumentally tragic and other times sparse and simple with hope—that heighten the overall statement to its utmost magnificence.
Listen: Various Tracks [at myspace.com]
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Girl-Guy Duos: Then vs. Now
Although this decade still has a couple of years left to go, the 2000s might go down as the era of girl-guy duo groups. You could say this officially began in 1999 with the arrival of Jack and Meg White’s self-titled debut. But it was the White Stripes’ third album, White Blood Cells, which was released in 2001 and blew up throughout 2002, that gained the new girl-guy dynamic a strong foothold.
Within a year, three other couples had come out with their debuts. London-based duo the Kills had released their first record, Keep on Your Mean Side, for Rough Trade and drew comparisons to the White Stripes. Danish duo the Raveonettes were also on the scene by then, releasing their first full-length, Whip It On. Dean Wareham and Britta Phillips came out with L’Avventura as a side project to their proper band, Luna. Besides these debuts, Mates of State’s first album on the Polyvinyl label, Our Constant Concern, was out in 2002, and so was Low’s album Trust.
When we think back through the history of rock music, the girl-guy duo has come and gone. In the ’90s, there were very few, though Low was active that decade. We could call Belle & Sebastian a girl-guy group, but definitely not a duo. In the ’80s, the big one was the Eurythmics. In the ’70s, there were two who were huge—these seemed to thrive in the “soft rock” realm. Think of the Carpenters or Captain & Tennille (who had two number one hits).
Soulsavers at the Independent, San Francisco
by: Angela Zimmerman
September 9th at the Independent, San Francisco
Soulsavers produce hypnotic rock music, made thick by various components: Guitars, strings, orchestral accents, electronic beats, keyboard sequences, and vocal harmonies, threaded together by glossy studio production and the common vision of Rich Machin and Ian Glover. Live, however, the Soulsavers are more stripped down. Whereas their tour last year included two gospel singers to round out the lush tapestry that was It’s Not How Far You Fall, It’s the Way You Land, this touring ensemble to promote their newest album, Broken, is vocally driven by the contribution of Mark Lanegan (with the other instrumentalists carrying some duties as well). Lanegan, of course, is a battered old soul, a man whose presence unfurls with a signature guttural voice, one that ultimately ends up carrying whatever project he happens to be currently lending a hand to. And the projects have been many. Lanegan’s music career began way back in the early ’80s with the pioneering Seattle grunge of the Screaming Trees, and has made its way through many incarnations and experiments and projects, one of his latest being Soulsavers. But Lanegan could be singing alongside a single acoustic guitar or commanding an entire orchestra, and still he’d be the central force. When he walked on stage at the Independent, a quiet, revered cheer from the crowd accompanied his entrance, but in true Lanegan style, he didn’t show an inkling of emotion, that strong, war-torn grimace cloaking his face in between heavy lyrical utterances of spirituality and crushing loss. Sigh… how I do love thee.
Even without those righteous gospel ladies of yesteryear in attendance, they still did beautiful, albeit slightly less spine-tingling, renditions of their older material, including “Kingdoms of Rain”, “Spiritual”, “Ghosts of You and Me”, and an encore performance of “Revival”, as well as a slow, striking cover of ZZ Top’s “Jesus Just Left Chicago.” Their new album was most deftly showcased, and while Lanegan and company could likely tell that their audience wasn’t quite fully satiated upon the end of their short set, it was only with a backwards glance and a quick thank you mumbled by Lanegan as they walked off the stage that they gave us our final parting. Soulsavers could’ve gone for miles but I suppose the way we were left grasping at straws that had already risen into the night was the only way to accept the absence of their departure.
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by: Angela Zimmerman
published: September 11, 2009 in column: It Shows
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