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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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Various Artists
Various Artists
Woodstock: 40 Years On: Back to Yasgur’s Farm
(Rhino, 2009)
The Woodstock Festival looms large in the cultural imagination of the hippie generation—and every generation that’s come of age since that magical weekend of peace, love, music, and freewheelin’ indulgence. In just over one weekend, a city of half a million people (and that’s just the audience) was spontaneously created and good vibes were the rule, not the exception. Woodstock was the “coming out” party for the hippies, in the old high society meaning of the word, an announcement that there was indeed a counterculture, to use a word that may not have even been coined at the time. The festival lived up to its billing with almost no reported violence or friction in the audience; good vibes abounded, even between the police and the stoned hippies in attendance.
Critics and sociologists are still arguing about the significance of the event and its greater meaning. In the August 9th edition of the San Francisco Chronicle Datebook, Country Joe McDonald, Paul Kantner of the Jefferson Airplane/Starship, and percussionist Michael Carabello, a member of Santana at the time, were still disagreeing about what went on at the festival, and they were there. Still, one thing is evident: The music that brought the crowds to Woodstock sent American culture spinning off in hundreds of unexpected directions, and it’s that music that still holds our collective interest.
Buffy Sainte-Marie: Still Singing for Peace
“In North America today, there are five very highly funded, major, serious colleges of war. There’s Annapolis, there’s West Point, there’s the Army College of War, the Air Force Academy, and the Royal Military Academy in Canada,” explains Buffy Sainte-Marie. “There’re five of them, and we don’t have one college of peace of that caliber, of that funding, of that seriousness. So how are we supposed to have peace in this world when our best minds don’t even have a university in which to study alternative conflict resolution, but they can study war?”
As a singer-songwriter, a multimedia artist, a computer pioneer, and an educator, Sainte-Marie has been asking the big questions for nearly half a century now. Her anti-war anthem, “Universal Soldier”, and her pro-Native American tales, like “Now That the Buffalo’s Gone” and “My Country ‘Tis of Thy People You’re Dying” are no less potent today than they were in the early ’60s, when she first started singing them for audiences in Greenwich Village.
Sharply poetic and unsettlingly direct, Sainte-Marie delivers her words with the objectives of obliterating ignorance and healing, rarely veering from her favorite themes of peace, justice, and love. With the release of her latest album, Running for the Drum, she continues to detail, in song, the history of the Americas, the deep wounds to its resources, and especially to its native people. Her melodies bear traces of ancient roots; combined with the trademark quaver in her voice, Sainte-Marie’s songs have the ability to reach places in the heart where undeniable answers to her questions can be found. Like a couple of famous peaceniks once said, “War is over if you want it.”
Regina Spektor
Regina Spektor
Far
(Sire, 2009)
Let’s get personal. A music fan I know is blowing my mind right now with screeching hatred for Regina Spektor. To wit, “I really just don’t get what’s to like about this. At its absolute best, it’s unobtrusively dull. But mostly it’s just so, so trite and precious and punchable.” Let’s upturn the glass and say, at absolute worst, Far is unobtrusive and dull. But except for the atheist-baiting single “Laughing With”, the whole affair is almost offensively inoffensive.
Unless you count “Stillness Is the Move” or Bat for Lashes (and please don’t), this is not a banner year for women in the music press. Lily Allen shored up an absolutely unusual amount of spew earlier in the year for an album that talked back to soft dicks (of both kinds), and in my circles, Far looks to earn the same. Granted, her “preciousness” is mostly due to her proximity to the so-called “anti-folk” scene wherein she spun her wheels until the Strokes bagged her for a tour, though neither she nor empath Kimya Dawson is as cutesy as she’s made out to be. On Spektor’s last album, she reminisced on freaking out the second time her boyfriend OD’d, dropping it suddenly and unsettlingly into what began as a nostalgic walk-about eating tangerines (“so cheap and juicy!”). She made Samson pissed that the Bible didn’t mention Delilah (“not even once!”) and resigned himself to a slice of Wonder bread. She turned her vocal intonation into an effective device for her kid song (“If I kiss you where it’s sore / Will you feel bettaw?”) and loved nobody fully. But let’s get one thing straight right now: If these predilections are anti-folk, then Jewel is Kimya Dawson.
Ed Pearl: Back to the Ash Grove
“What the Ash Grove did,” says Ed Pearl, “was change the face of popular music.” Of course, Pearl would think that: He is the folk impresario (if that’s not an oxymoron) behind the Ash Grove, a fabled roots music club that stirred it up on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles from 1958-1973. It was the kind of place some folks dream about, a place where legends the likes of Muddy Waters and Doc Watson, as well as Flamenco dancers and street poets, took the stage on the same bill; a community center where everyday people—activists and laborers, millionaires and grifters—all made the scene. So why would anyone want to burn it down, not once, but three times?
The gospel of the Ash Grove, according to Pearl, demonstrates how the traditional music of the American South came to the West Coast, entered the popular culture in the early ’60s, launched the folk revival followed by the creation of folk-rock and its protest-orientated repertoire, and contributed to the transformation of culture. Though what you are about to read may or may not prove that claim, like one of those traditional ballads that gets handed down and slightly rearranged over time, it’s the writer’s hope that the essence of the song is pure, while its mystery remains.
The Step Into Tradition
Go Straight to Hell, Boys
It was the sound of the sample of “Straight to Hell” by the Clash that first drew me to “Paper Planes”, M.I.A.’s irresistible and ubiquitous alternative hip-hop track. Though one fine sampled loop alone cannot carry a tune. The lyrical thread of “Straight to Hell”, combined with Maya Arulpragasam’s insouciant rap style and slightly obscure lyrics, punctuated by pop, pop, pop gunshots and a percussive caching of a cash register, not only created controversy, but also built a mystery around the song. So away we go…
Mis-hearings are not unusual and whole points have been known to get lost when lyrics and melody are brilliantly unified in protest: Remember when “Born in the USA”, Bruce Springsteen’s story of a discarded veteran, was adopted by right wing concerns as a patriotic anthem(!)? That’s what I’m talking about, which could partly explain why “Paper Planes”, a send-up of stereotypes leveled at third-world immigrants, was ill-perceived: There is just not that much familiarity or empathy for the subject at hand, which can be enough motivation for an artist to write a song in the first place. Confusing matters further is the fact that Arulpragasam hails from London, though she was raised partly in Sri Lanka and in India by activist parents associated with the fight to liberate the Tamil region of their native country. Today, Arulpragasm makes her home in Brooklyn. Confusing? Well, not if you consider that Arulpragasam, as a refugee from a war-torn country, is just looking for a home. Who better to speak to the concerns of immigrants, a largely marginalized group of citizens who inhabit our cities across the globe?
Paul Robeson, Woody Guthrie, and Pete Seeger were branded communist sympathizers and put out of work when they sang songs about forgotten people from other lands. Bob Dylan sang of the injustices met by the poor and black at home, though when he famously retreated from rigorous protest music, he was criticized and lost a portion of his audience in return for his trouble. Yes, this business of protest music has been known to be a hassle, and much of the genre’s more potent and pointed music can get relegated to the underground; that “Paper Planes” was such a phenomenon contributes to its intrigue.
Remembering Odetta: Questions and Answers with Josh White, Jr.
This week, the Smoke-Filled Room takes a break from the usual partisan politics to pay tribute to a remarkable musician who battled indefatigably for social causes close to her heart. Odetta, the singer who served as the voice of the civil rights movement, passed away on December 2, 2008 at age 77. Over the course of a remarkable 60-year career, Odetta transcended music, employing her full and powerful voice in the name of racial equality. She was a committed social activist who marched with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and served as a tireless and effective advocate for equal rights. Her music and activism inspired many musicians—Bob Dylan cited her as the reason he took up folk singing in the first place—including Josh White, Jr., who has become a celebrated singer and activist in his own right. The Smoke-Filled Room spoke with White about his relationship with the great singer, her unforgettable voice, the gig she most hoped to play, and her proud legacy of political action.
Crawdaddy!: How did you come to know Odetta?
Josh White, Jr.: I started singing with my dad when I was about four. I worked with him for about 17 years before I went out on my own. Somewhere in late ’50s or early ’60s, I ran into Odetta with my old man. I remember she used to call him ‘Papa Josh.’ And since then, she was just a mainstay in my life. She was a presence in my life. She was always there. There weren’t a lot of black female folk singers back then. And her presence and her voice made her stand out.
And the Rockers Red Glare
No, I’m not talking about “yippee I’m flying” power pills. Neither am I trying to vilify the American anthem. What I’m up to now is no less than telling you about a rarity as exotic and cool as you can probably get. I’m talking about communist rock. But fear not, we’ll skip Marx and Gramsci, McCarthy and Fidel, and will go straight to business, focusing on music and music alone; more in a revisionist way of catching up with forgotten “activists” than trying to argue about your ideology or mine. Then, if the guys of Meanwhile, back in communist Russia (not a communist band, by the way) allow it, we can get started.
Ok, some people may actually think that all of those artists involved in the “anti-Bush” campaign are communists, or that the ones in favor of free music downloads hide a copy of “Das Kapital” in their pockets, or that those stinky hippies –who have always looked suspicious anyway– were talking no hip slang but Russian all along. Sorry to prove you wrong, but not even a rabid anti-Bush activist like Eddie Vedder could be labeled a communist, nor Trent Reznor (didn’t he give away his last record for free?) or David Crosby (you can’t get hippier than that!). Real communists are people who loathe private property and fight for a fair way of life, where the state has the power to assign rights and duties to every citizen according to their needs and abilities. And there is just a handful of rockers whom, that I know, think that way. Stereolab, the sophisticated “lounge meets kraut rock” band, has got to be the epitome of them all.
But the French guys who gave us Marxist pop (sipping Serge Gainsbourg in large doses of Louis Althusser) are not alone. Back in the USA you can find an enormous array of lefty musicians, some of them still alive (and active?). Let’s recap: The whole folk revival generation, going from Woody Guthrie’s last days to Bob Dylan’s folk rock big-bang, via Pete Seeger’s old-timey persistence or the stark hard-fighting preaching of Billy Bragg (not American, by the way). You can write names as big as you can fit (Phil Ochs, Joan Baez, Kingston Trio, John Lennon, etc) in that time line, by the way, for the distinction among humanist and communist tends to be a little blurry at times.
Jean on Jean
Jean on Jean
Jean on Jean
(Kanine, 2008)
Following in the footsteps of Mendoza Line’s Shannon McArdle (whose cold revenge solo project Summer of the Whore came out earlier this year), sweet songstress Molly Schnick is emerging from the wreckage of the long-running band in which she was a wallflower with a unique and raw album that finally puts her talents front and center.
While her Out Hud bandmates went on to other electronic projects—Tyler Pope and Nic Offer are now members of !!! (as was Justin Van Der Volgen until last year), and Pope originally left Out Hud in 2004 to concentrate on his work with LCD Soundsystem—cellist Molly Schnick has changed gears completely, creating a pretty solo album under the Jean on Jean moniker. The self-titled full-length consists of nine stripped down and innocent tunes that invoke both sweet and eerie childhood memories with every ping of glockenspiel and arrhythmic shake of tambourine.
A string player at heart, Schnick used her newfound freedom from electro-pop to create a more verdant and vital acoustic landscape to set her songs in. Using sometimes classical-sounding plucked acoustic guitars (“Circle”), light tapping and clicking percussion, and, of course, sliding cello harmonies (“You and I”), Schnick created a full sound from understated elements for Jean on Jean. That piecemeal homemade orchestra becomes the perfect complement to her reedy and candidly childlike voice as she sings her sometimes hopeful, ever-frank lyrics.
When Schnick does use electric guitar, it’s as garnish rather than the meat of the song. On album highlight “Hawaii”, electric guitar strums accent the song’s base of arpeggiated cellos and bird-like noises, creating a rock role reversal that is completely refreshing.
One of the poppiest and most satisfying songs on Jean on Jean is the catchy track “Grown”, with its tickling castanets, sparse un-sustained keys, and underbelly of rhythmic acoustic guitar. The song is placed early on the record, and its up-tempo tendencies conflict with its moody lyrics with an attractive mystery that works to pull you further into the album.
It took Schnick three years to assemble Jean on Jean after the 2005 breakup of Out Hud, and her lyrics belie the fact that those years were a trudge for her. When she sings repeatedly in a haunting falsetto, “I adjust!” on the song “Circle”, her frustration is palpable, but her will to survive is also obviously winning.
“Change” seems to best sum up Jean on Jean and Schnick’s three-year journey to her new musical identity, during which she lugged a home recording set-up from apartment to apartment, slowly writing and recording the album in her brand-new confessional style. The song describes soul-sucking day jobs and uncertainty during times of flux, but her voice comes through defiantly as she sings, “I’ve been waiting for a change to come / And get rid of these things / Quit one by one.” Sometimes we hope for the worst, for things to fall apart, so that we can start from scratch. When it happened to Molly Schnick, she did just that, and the result is vast and beautiful and definitely worth the struggle.
Listen: Various Tracks [at myspace.com]
Read more articles like this:
Sly and the Family Stone: There’s a Riot Goin’ On
Many books come out each year deconstructing rock music: The musicians, their albums, their songs, their showering habits, and their other habits. It’s here where we’ll take an excerpt of a book for you to check out before you make the purchase. As of now these will exclusively feature the venerable 33 1/3 series, which picks apart an album by a band or musician. In the future, we hope to include more rock books of all varieties.
* * *
The Believer Whose Faith Was Shattered
Jesse Winchester: The Long Road Home
by: j. poet
Winchester’s eponymous first album, released in the US on the tiny Ampex label in 1970, came out of nowhere, and included three of his much-covered signature tunes: “Yankee Lady”, a hit for Brewer and Shipley, “The Brand New Tennessee Waltz”, covered by Joan Baez and Patti Page, and “Biloxi”, which became a Jimmy Buffett concert staple. Jesse Winchester was produced by Robbie Robertson, which gave the songwriter immediate cachet and made him as famous for resisting the draft as for his music. (Winchester moved to Canada in 1967 to avoid the Vietnam war, but more on that later.) read more
by: j. poet
published: October 16, 2009 in column: Feature Story
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