Willie Nelson
January 19th at the Fillmore Auditorium

Willie Nelson is 75 years old. When exactly did that happen? I hadn’t seen him since back in ’99 on a Farm Aid tour, and that was at a massive amphitheatre outside of DC, and even then he effortlessly carried the crowd—beloved pot-smoking, farm-saving American institution that he is. Well, Willie at the Fillmore Auditorium is a whole different story. I’m telling you people, if you get a chance to see him at such a place, do it… He’s getting up there in age, although you would not know it from hearing him. The man has mad energy, and he sounds fantastic. Quite simply, he’s an old pro. Joined by his son Lukas on this evening, a virtuoso blues guitarist in his own right, Willie showered a crowd of slightly drunk, adoring patrons in red, white, and blue, the kind of patriotism that wears a sweaty bandana around his long grey braids and sings you off to a place where America is all that you really want it to be. Though I attended the show by my lonesome, Willie Nelson would be best experienced with a partner, a drunken buddy to put your arm around and sway with, singing along to “On the Road Again”, “You Were Always On My Mind”, and “Mama Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys”, the old faves that you remember from way back when, no matter your age. Such was the crossover appeal of the night, with seemingly disparate trends blanketing the crowd: A flask-swilling cowboy alongside a loose-tied, suited executive standing behind a bespectacled, black-clad hipster. Willie has a way of bringin’ the people together. His set was long, his band was tight, and songs from the dusty Texas plains were delivered from his rock solid, rusty heart into that of our newfound hopeful American consciousness. A five-night residency at the Fillmore with one of America’s most enduring musicians was a most fitting way for many of us to spend the dawning days of a new presidential administration, and I dare say the symbolism ran rampant and was inherently clear in each of us packed into the venue that night. – Angela Zimmerman

Watch: Willie Nelson [at youtube.com]

Kowloon Walled City, Earthless, Orchid
January 19th at Annie’s Social Club

Pulverizing. Pile-driving. Bowl-shattering. Think of all the stupid, tired clichés that journalists use to describe bands that play heavy music. Now apply them to San Francisco miscreants, Kowloon Walled City. The quartet brought their driving, sludgy brand of hard rock to Annie’s Social Club, and proceeded to bludgeon the crowd with their unrelenting wall of controlled chaos. The members of KWC are slaves to the almighty groove, forming a steadfastly utilitarian outfit. This is not to say that their music lacks style or melody, but the melodies grow organically out of their workman-like style. On stirring numbers, like their old favorite “My Hands Are Turning to Bricks” and “Gambling on the Richter Scale” (which will be on their new EP), they showed their powerful brilliance. Scott Evans’ harsh, barked vocals typify their merciless sonic aesthetic, while bassist Ian Miller and guitarist Jason Pace doled out Eyehategod-style, undeniably catchy riffage. Surprisingly, it is drummer Jeff Fagundes who gives the group much of their flair. His soulful syncopation, combined with his bottomless pocket, distance KWC from the rest of the hard-rock/metal riffraff. The guys closed their 35-minute set on a feverish high with a scathing version of their ode to the Tenderloin, “Turk, Taylor, and Jones.” The sold-out crowd was left captivated and reeling, and I was left convinced that I just saw the best band in the city. – Daniel N. Alvarez

Listen: Kowloon Walled City [at myspace]

The Walkmen, Beach House, Johnny and the Moon
January 21st at the Fillmore Auditorium

The Walkmen are no doubt a consistent band, but some shows are better than others, mostly contingent on the state of Hamilton Leithauser’s vocals, which he pushes to the absolute limits. How a singer is able to repair his chords when steadily touring and performing beats me, but his intense howl was spot-on at this sold-out Fillmore show. Supplemented by a horn section and perfectly at ease under the Fillmore’s grand chandeliered ceiling, the Walkmen were in as fine a form as I’ve ever seen them, absolutely nailing their performance, playing a lot of material off their new record You & Me, and also some raucous old faves, including “Louisiana” and “Thinking of a Dream I Had.” The Fillmore tends to bring out the best in the artists that grace its stage, and this pounding performance was just another example of what a band is capable of in an inspiring environment. The Walkmen can induce in the right crowd a collective swoon with their intensely satisfying stage presence and musical ferocity, and such was the case on this night: The Walkmen are simply one of my favorite bands of today.

Supporting band Beach House was also quite at home under the Fillmore’s mighty gaze, and captivated the crowd with their warm ambient folk. The droning tones and moody vocals of the Baltimore-based duo bathed the crowd in dreamy, blissed-out, lo-fi arrangements. And finally, opening band Johnny and the Moon, a rousing folk-rock act from British Columbia and side project of Dante DeCaro of Wolf Parade, aptly introduced the triple-stack bill with the last few songs of their set that I caught, and I expect they’ll be moving up in the ranks of billing before too long. Bequeathed with a poster upon exiting the venue, it was made clear that we had indeed just witnessed a special show… and once again made to feel lucky for dwelling in such a fertile town for live music. – AZ

Watch: The Walkmen [at youtube.com]