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Note: The Gig Journal entries are primarily links to the respective photo albums, but occasionally I have posted a review as well. All journaling is now done on the BAGeL Radio Blog.

Mark Lanegan Band
Great American Music Hall, S.F., CA. 12/16/03
 
Mark Lanegan (Screaming Trees, Queens of the Stone Age) has a new band.  Great band.  Great voice.  Great performance.  Small crowd: the place was half-full.  Such a shame that more people didn't get to witness this show.
 
I ran into a couple of friends at the show who are very musically literate and that did nothing but enhance the experience.  I love when people "get" my references, and I love it even more when they point things out to me. 
 
One of these friends pointed out the keyboard player, who I hadn't even noticed yet, and asked if it was who he thought it was.  I wasn't sure, so I asked the sound man.  It was indeed who he thought it was:
Greg Dulli.  The former Afghan Whigs frontman currently fronting The Twilight Singers was hiding off to the side of the stage, sitting behind a keyboard, singing backing vocals.  Ten years ago when I was still desperately clinging to the notion of a vague, diluted, co-opted, expolited genre called "alternative rock" the only band that seemed to fit into the category was the Afghan Whigs, and the lead vocals were a huge part of that.  How great do you have to be to have Greg Dulli singing backing vocals for you?  Mark Lanegan Great.  (That said, Lanegan has been singing second fiddle in QoTSA for the last few years...).
 
Gruff and intense, Lanegan immediately commanded the full attention of everyone in the audience.  There were no side conversations to be heard.  This was an excellent band behind him (did I mention Greg Dulli?), yet it was rare to see a single eye stray from the tall, thin, black clad badass with the voice of an angel who smokes too much.  Imagine Tom Waits if he smoked 3 packs of cigarettes a day for an Okinawan lifetime AND could sing.
 
The 8-song CD is really good, too.  Short, but good.  Apparently the band went into the studio to record a couple of songs to release as a single but ended up producing enough songs to put out this (extended) EP.  Dark and rumbling and gravely and powerful and surprisingly rocking.  Definitely the loudest, rockiest thing Lanegan has put out (excluding his work with QoTSA) since Screaming Trees.  QoTSA mainstays Josh Homme and Nick Olivieri appear doing backing vocals, on guitars, and have co-writing credits on "Skeletal History."
 
Can't wait for the full album, due out in early 2004.

Rooney/ The Sounds/ Star Spangles
Grand Regency Ballroom, S.F., CA. 11/24/03
 
Maybe I'm getting old, but New Yorkers The Star Spangles were just plain too loud.  Their record is teriffic.  On it they sound like Cheap Trick meets Social Distortion in all the best ways.  Live they sounded like the Ramones.  In a high school gymnasium.  Not so good.  I'm hoping it was because there weren't enough people in the room to absorb the sound, or they are not used to playing venues with high ceilings, or the sound engineer was off in a corner making out with some jailbait for their set...
 
Out of the current wave of synth-pop bands none come across as quintessentially 80s as Sweden's The Sounds. They play new wave like no one else and everyone else...at the same time.  As pointed out by fellow gig-goer Dan, it is oddly difficult to ever nail down exactly which 80s New Wave act they sound like at any given moment.
 
The obvious reference is to Blondie but that's more due to visual appearance -- a bunch of skinny guys fronted by a strutting blonde.
 
(In the case of The Sounds, a strutting blonde whose vocals needed to be much more prominent in the mix). 
 
As for the music, think bits of mid-to-late Cars mixed with Hall & Oates with the lyrical and musical sophistication of Loverboy or Rick Springfield.
 
All this and I still kinda liked them?  Yup.  Scotch is a wonderful thing.
 
Oh, and Kudos to singer Maja for lifting her dress and showing the largely teenage crowd her men's underwear.
 
Before they reached their first chorus it was clear that Rooney is going to be huge.  Spectacularly huge.  These LA kids put out an impeccably produced (by Psychedlic Fur Keith Forsey) Teenage Fanclub meets Weezer album and perform live with the energy of newcomers and the polish of veterans. 
 
They don't yet have a lot to say and they certainly don't break any new ground musically, but the record is pop-rock nirvana.  Oh, and singer Robert Carmine is not quite yet of legal drinking age and has the rock and roll good looks that will keep him on the pop charts and movie screens for decades.
 
(The whole band is young: the oldest Rooney was born in December of 1978, the youngest in September of 1984).
 
On "Popstars" Carmine sings about "unsophisticated money machines for the killers of rock and roll," which is surprisingly biting for someone with his entertainment industry connections.  Born Robert
Coppola Schwartzman, his mother is actress Talia "Adrian!" Shire, his brother is actor Jonathan Schwartzman, his cousin is director Sophia Coppola...the list goes on.  The buzz generated for this band cannot help but be amplified tenfold by these familial associations.
 
The songs succeed when they are playful, as with "Daisy Duke" when Carmine apologizes to his woman for handcuffing her to the bathtub.  I guess he one of them has a claw-foot tub...
 
Warning: there are times when the music slips into Alan Parsons Project meets Eddie Money territory.  It's at those times that I wonder how much of this is from the heart and how much is product.  Other than those rare misstep moments, though, Rooney's star shines as brightly as can be.
 
P.S. -- Thanks to Mystery Machine Productions for the tickets!

Pretty Girls Make Graves
Bottom Of The Hill, S.F., CA. 11/21/03
 
Again I missed most of PGMG, this time due to [the] caseworker (see below), and again what I saw made me want to see more.  Even without their own instruments, which were stolen out of their van earlier this week, they did an amazing job of translating the energy, melodies, and punch of their rocking recordings.
 
[the] caseworker
Thee Parkside, S.F., CA. 11/ 21/2003
 
More self-assured than last time I saw them, The Caseworker effortlessly fill the room with their melancholy gorgeous Galaxie 500 meets Chris Whitley on 4AD musical meanderings.
 
Polyphonic Spree/ The Sleepy Jackson
Slim's, S.F., CA. 11/20/03
 
Caught the last couple of songs by The Sleepy Jackson, including "Vampire Racecourse," which is terrific.  Live was quite good, even from the back of the venue (that inexplicably still hasn't gotten around to installing a trough in the main floor men's room) and made me sorry to have missed them.

Setting up for the Polyphonic Spree had better pay more than roadie gigs for normal bands -- setting up all those instruments and microphones is a lot of work that took about 45 minutes. 

It seemed to take nearly as long for the band/group/cult to populating the stage.  By the time Spree leader Tim DeLaughter arrived there were 24 of them (25 by my friend Kate's count), all in flowing white robes singing new agey-platitudes over a dense multi-instrumental
psychedelic/School House Rock base with an earnestness and joy that bordered on the psychotic.  Half the time I felt uplifted by their exuberance, the other half I laughed at the hokiness of the whole thing.  Although I live in hippy-dippy San Francisco I am far from being an earthy crunchy new age spiritual type, so for the PS to have had any such effect on me at all says a great deal about how affecting the show was.

The 9-strong chorus did much joyous bouncing, as did most of the rest of the band.  So much energy, so much positive energy...I know I'm starting to sound like an earthy crunchy new age spiritual type, but this cynic who ranks organized religion up there with nuclear weapons as two of humankinds most glaring mistakes cannot deny that there was something emanating from that stage that I'd never before experienced.

Overheard and uttered were several snide comments about, "Hey, where's the Kool-Aid?!?"  and "When is the Mother Ship coming for us?"
 
Broken Social Scene/ Stars/ Jason Collett
Great American Music Hall, S.F., CA. November 19, 2003
 
Rotating bunch of Canadian musicians on stage for 3 hours trading instruments, lead vocals, lead guitar duties, musical styles, and sometimes employing a horn section.  Headliner Broken Social Scene had as many as 10 people on stage at any given time, sort of a Multiphonic Spree.  Their atmospherics worked, their pop songs worked, their rockers worked, especially the Dinosaur Jr.-tinged "Cause=Time" and that other one that sounds like J Mascis, forgive me I have not gotten much sleep this week)...everything worked. 
 
Stars write earnest love songs and deliver them with so much energy and enthusiam that at times it looks like they might explode.  "Elevator Love Letter" is an instant classic (and not just because the promo single came in a stamped envelope -- nice touch!), and did not disappoint live.
 
Jason Collett has hands so large they cover four frets.  Other than that, not much to say.  I've finally come around to liking some alt-country in the last couple of years, but this was just not my cup of tea (and no, I don't have anything against people with enormous hands).
 
Death Cab For Cutie/ Nada Surf
The Fillmore, S.F., CA. 11/17/03
 
I love Death Cab For Cutie. 
 
They covered the Cure's "Lovesong."  Some of the indier than thou crowd seemed to recognize it.  That was heartening.
 
The new album, TRANSATLANTICISM, is excellent and was well-but not over-represented in the set.  The boys from Bellingham (WA.) drew from each album and EP.  This was the first time I'd seen them not play the quintessential Death Cab For Cutie song, "405," but their catalogue is deep enough now that they need not play all the "hits" to put on a satisfying show.
 
Ben Gibbard's vocals are more assured now, but he still has a tendency to jerk his head away from the mic dropping lyrics.  Not a critical failing, but sometimes you just want to hear his voice and not the DCFC Fan Club President singing at the top of his lungs behind you, you know?
 
Chris Walla's guitar and keys were as pristine as ever.
 
The new drummer definitely got lost a couple of times along the way, as he did last time I saw them, but overall he provides a strong, steady, and interesting intricate backbone to the sometimes amorphous DCFC sound.

The band seemed more laid back and confident than in the past as they explored new musical territory (there are "ba-ba's" and hand claps on "The Sound of Settling") and bantered with the crowd and amongst themselves.
 
It was great.
 
Did I mention that I love Death Cab For Cutie?
   
The Alarm
The Knitting Factory, N.Y., N.Y. 11/10/03

The opening set mainly delivered songs from the post-DECLARATION period, including new material due out on an album in Q1 2004.  I was never a big fan of the Alarm's post-DECLARATION output, so the first set was disappointing at best.
 
For the second set it was song I loved after song I loved: "The Stand," "68 Guns," "Marching On," "Absolute Reality," "Where Were You Hiding When The Storm Broke," "Blaze Of Glory."  Some of those gave me chills.  All made me (and just about everyone else in the room) sing aloud in full voice. 
 
The Alarm had a little something something way back when, before STRENGTH, and for those who appreciated it back in the day, the early material still shines live. 

Peaches/ ElectroCute
Bimbo's, S.F., CA. 10/24/03
 
Dirty electrocknica, hot Goths running around like lunatics, and a San Francisco crowd dancing.  Well, moving.  It was a sight to be seen.  Peaches is so energetic as to be scary -- I can't imagine she can keep up that kind of energy level every night.
 
Inviting fans on stage to sing is always an iffy proposition, but Peaches got away with it.  Most of the folks she chose (a) knew the words, and (b) were reasonably on key.  So much so that it made me wonder if the mic she gave them wasn't one of those Karaoke ones that adjust for the singer's...range, level of tone-deafness, complete lack of ability?
 
Opening duo ElecroCute were...cute.  Nothing special.  Definitely fitting for the evening, their not quite as well choreographed as they should have been moves and thin Kraftwerk-gone-burlesque tunes provided light entertainment for most, although there were definitely members of the audience that were into them(like the schmuck next to me dancing with a knapsack on -- unnecessary accoutrements in a tightly packed crowd are quite obnoxious, especially when the wearer is mobile and those around him are stationary) .  Rock on, Mr. Oblivious ElectroCute fan, rock on.
   
Elbow/ Mellowdrone
Great American Music Hall, S.F., CA. 10/20/03
   
OK, so I missed Mellowdrone for the third or fourth time in the past couple of months.  I don't know how I keep doing it, but I keep doing it.
 
The main course, Elbow, was terrific, putting together a strong set without playing all of the singles, leaving the crowd satisfied yet wanting more.  Knowing that they kept gems like "Powder Blue" and "Ribcage" back made the show all the more impressive.
 
Simmering intensity a la The Catherine Wheel at their best, Elbow knows how to create a mood and bring it to a boil.  They never go overboard for the obvious, underlined emo-rock licks and power chords.  Instead they hint at them and leave the listener to fill in the blanks.  Mmmm, mmmm, good.

Mark Gardner (of Ride)/ Goldrush
Bottom Of The Hill, S.F., CA. 10/17/03
 
Much improved over his solo acoustic set earlier this year, this time Mark Gardner played with more confidence and experience.  For much of the set he had the goofy but talented Oxford band Goldrush backing him.  They are not Ride, but they have good songs of their own, and leant a weight to certain Ride songs.  The one set list mistake to me was "Vapour Trail," a song build on amazing drumming, was performed solo acoustic.  No back up.  It was still great, but man, those drums really make that song.

 
Quasi/ Hella
Bottom Of The Hill, S.F., CA. 10/14/03
 
Hella sounded like a whole lot of pretentious noise to me, but I was in a bad mood from feeling fluish, so you can't necessarily go by my reaction on this one.  Others at the packed to the gills Bottom of the Hill definitely disagreed with me.
 
That said the duo's set was a really long, drawn out, hyperactive drum solo overlayed with screeching, unbridled guitar noise. 
 
Then, out of the blue, there would be something resembling a rock song structure.  For 10-15 seconds.  A couple of times they teased with 30 seconds of what sounded like a pop song.  Then they'd go back to making pretentious noise.
 
I was relieved when they left the stage.
 
Quasi came on and there was much less tension on stage than last time I'd seen them.  Odd in that the new material is tense and dense and powerful and as lyrically in-your-face as Quasi can be, but expected in that the new tension is more external in nature, not quite as personal.
 
From the brilliant "White Devil's Dream" (a Pick-o-Bagel, for those of you who listen to BAGeL Radio) with the line "Bombs drop overseas/And every day we are less free" and ends with big fuck yous for George Bush, both of 'em, Jeb Bush, all Bushes, Cheney, Rumsfeld, Powell, Tony Blair -- to the heart-felt blues of "Master & Dog," Quasi has the goods.  They jammed excessively at times, but again, that might just have been me feeling like crrrrrap. 
 
Turin Brakes
Great American Music Hall, S.F., CA. 10/12/03
 
Beautiful music-to-slit-your-wrists-to songs soulfully delivered by a couple of English guys on stools with acoustic guitars and a beat box on the stool between them.  If you like South and/or Starsailor, you'll love Turin Brakes.  There was an occassional keyboard player as well...apparently due to money contraints T. Brakes left the other two members of their full band at home.
 
I kept waiting for the guitarist on the left, who provided backing vocals throughout the set, to take over on lead and bust into "The Hanukkah Song."  Sorry, but with his head buzzed the man looks like Adam Sandler.
 
I was shocked earlier in the evening to hear Turin Brakes' brilliant song "Pain Killer" used as the soundtrack for a Volvo TV ad.  As my new friend Rachael said, having tunes by bands this obscure used in car commercials is kind of scary in a "Why are you targeting me so directly?!?" kinda way.  Or are we being paranoid and should we just be thankful that someone is picking good music for ads these days?
    
My Morning Jacket/ Patrick Park
Slim's, S.F., CA. 10/10/03
 
Wild hair swirling everywhere like the Slim's stage hasn't seen since...since...since I don't know when, but chances are Jimmy Carter was POTUS at the time.  
 
The opening 15 minutes of the set seemed like the Lynryd Skynrd plane crash was just a hoax.  Between the twang and the Southern rock hooks, it was hard to imagine that this show could possibly be classified in the "indie rock" category.  Singer Jim James' reverb-doused, haunting Neil Young meets Wayne Coyne and Roy Orbison at the bottom of a deep well vocals are always the centerpiece of the songs, and on the quieter numbers is when that incredible voice really carries the whole show.
 
Most of the time MMJ produce very American music, mixing blues and country and Southern rock boogie.  Suddenly and without warning they became Echo & The Bunnymen meets the Cure meets New Order.  Then The Verve meets Wilco, Black Crows, and Pink Floyd, and before a breath could be caught they were back to "Gimme Three Steps." All in the space of about 45 seconds. 
 
Between these fellers and Kings of Leon, the 70s southern rock revival is in full swing.  Has it been for a while?  I must admit that I wouldn't know a Kid Rock song if it snuck up on me and puked up cheap beer and Slim Jim slop on my shoes...
 
About 40 minutes into the set James peeled back his hair and let us see his face for the first time.  Well, the parts of his face not covered in thick, scraggly beard, anyway.  Before that it was as if the gorgeous ethereal vocal emanations echoing from the bottom of a deep dark cavern voice were coming out of Cousin It.  As suddenly as it appeared the face disappeared again, covered once again by the massive wavy mop velcroed to his beard and/or obscured by his Fraggle Rock-like head-shaking.
 
The thought that it would be amazing to hear just James's voice over acoustic guitar crossed my mind several times, and then my thought was put to the test when the band left him alone with a couple of acoustic guitars for several tunes.  It was amazing.  Not as amazing as I'd thought, though, as after the first acoustic song I found that I missed the layers the full band provided.  That spoke volumes about the band's proficiency.
 
And they played forever.  Oh, This One Is For Real.
   
Mates of State/ Rogue Wave/ Thermals
Bottom Of The Hill, S.F., CA. 10/9/03
 
Mates of State are just too adorable for words.  It's not that they're a married couple from Kansas, or that they write quirky catchy pop songs, or that they smile at each other playfully throughout the set like a couple of teens out on a very successful third date.  It's not that, even as the headliner of a sold-out show, singer/drummer Jason Hammel feels the need to announce, "we are Mates of State" as if the beaming crowd wasn't necessarily there to see them.  More than once.  It's the combination of good energy (almost perky, but not in an annoying I'm trying to sell you Mary Kay products way), quality songs, bizarre sounds, unexpected song structures, and the singular way their voices intertwine and overlap and abet each other as if they are having a long-distance phone conversation in which they can both hear and speak at the same time. 
 
And when Jason and organist/singer/egg shaker Kori Gardner's voices are not mingling in counter-melodic rounds, they are busy harmonizing so sweetly that even when they are not quite perfect, it's perfect.
 
If they ever decided to play/record it, I bet Mates of State would do the all-time greatest version of "Row Row Row Your Boat" in the history of the world.
 
They made me smile all night long.
   
Twinemen
Cafe Du Nord, S.F., CA. 10/1/03
 
The surviving members of Morphine, saxophonist Dana Colley and drummer Billy Conway, are back in action with a new band, called Twinemen.  Fronted mostly by singer Laurie Sargent and aided ably by Stuart Kimball on bass guitar (he has all four strings, but mainly strummed the top two), Twinemen will be embraced by Morphine fans and more.  Some of the songs sound a lot like Morphine, especially a couple on which Colley performs the lead vocals in a baritone similar to deceased Morphine front-man Mark Sandman (R.I.P.).  The reason Twinemen may appeal to a wider audience is that in one album they co-opt and display more musical styles and influences than the brilliant atmospheric Morphine did over the entire career of that band.
 
Interpol/The Warlocks
The Warfield, S.F., CA. 9/29/03
 
This was my third time seeing the Warlocks in the last couple of months and from the top of the Warfield balcony they were even less engaging than before.  They come across as aloof and don't interact with the crowd much, if at all, so it was hard to imagine them being more standoffish.  Not anymore.  That said, they do seem to be moving away from the endless jams that detracted from the previous shows, and they sounded excellent, even better than at Slim's opening for the Raveonettes.
 
As for Interpol, would somebody please tell the lighting designer that TURN ON THE BRIGHT LIGHTS is the album title, not the 11th Commandment? 
 
Backlighting works well for this nuevo wave occassionally jangly version of Joy Division by way of Andy Warhol's New York. 
 
In an otherwise cave-dark venue, blasting Intellabeams (those way-cool-when-used-correctly programmable banks of laser beam-like lights popularized in dance clubs around 1990) directly into the gaping-pupiled eyes of the audience is rude, obnoxious, annoying, and downright painful.  My friend Staci complained that it was pretentious, and I would agree if it happened once.  Or twice.  No, it happened repeatedly throughout the set, making it beyond pretentious.    It was bush.  Boo, hiss, Interpol.  If you don't want anyone to look at you, play with your backs to the crowd.  Don't fry retinas.
      
Kings of Leon/ JET/ 22-20s
Slim's, S.F., CA. 9/27/03
 
Kings of Leon are the Southern Strokes.  Guitars jangle through simple pop songs that stick in your brain, but there are differences.  First, there's that twang.  And those solos.  And the little slide guitar.  And the inane lyrics.  And the singer sports a godawful mustache, a midriff-baring tight t-shirt, an ascott-like thing around his neck, and bangs like Freddie wore circa A NIGHT AT THE OPERA. 
 
His bandmates/breathern had even worse haircuts.  It's like they started with the Feral Bobby Brady look, then took it even further.
 
While Kings of Leon could be a lot more sonically adventurous (and maybe get someone else to write the words?), the fact is they were most entertaining at Slim's last night. 
 
(An aside...when it's crowded, Slim's can be unbearable: no A/C and no discernable ventilation.  Last night it was sold out and, yes, it was unbearable.  And while I'm at it, why they can't install a trough in the main floor men's room is beyond me.  One urinal and one toilet just don't cut it when you've got a full house, Boz).
 
And now back to Kings of Leon.  It's hard to say what kind of staying power they will have, but by gum they are good at recycling Doobies/Skynyrd hooks and updating them just enough to sneak in the backdoor of the New Garage fold.
 
"Molly's Chambers" and "California Waiting" are radio-friendly pop gems that should get these sons of a preacher man heaps of airplay and record sales.

More entertaining was the band before them, JET, from Melbourne, Australia.  Most of the time when the main singer was at the mic they sounded like AC/DC covering Bachman Turner Overdrive. 
 
The drummer also takes a few turns on lead vocals.  As does the guitarist.  At various times throughout the set JET sounded like the Rolling Stones circa "Angie," and at others they sounded like Cheap Trick, and all the while there was an air of Free about them,  but AC/DC is clearly at the center of the altar to which these boys pray.

Simple, monster-sized guitar riffs, lyrics both inane and so unoriginal it is kind of comical (it seemed like they might have taken the dumbest, most clichéd rock lines and phrases from Foghat and Free, put them on their fridge, then rearranged the magnets and started singing), earnest and strong vocals (by each singer) -- I know it doesn't sound like I liked them very much, but really, I did.  Since when does cock rock have to have a brain?
 
JET are very loud, and very very good.  I can easily see these guys being a big hit in the States when their record comes out next month.  They are sort of the anti-Vines, the last can't miss Australian band to pass through town, and they might do even better sales-wise because of it.

If you are in the mood for a headbanging, devil horns in the air kinda party band playing easy-to-understand and digest power chords, JET are your boys.
 
All right now, baby, it's uh-all right now.

Radiohead/ Supergrass
Shoreline Ampitheatre, Mountain View, CA. 9/23/03

I dropped the ball on Supergrass: having heard only the single from the new album I was unprepared for their set supporting Radiohead last night.

Last time I saw them was a couple of years ago at a 300-400 capacity club (Bimbo's) and last night they translated their breezy charm to the outdoor mega-stage quite well. I expect that they are used to playing big stages, having played at many an outdoor festival back home in England, but still, it's a leap that not all bands can take.

SG couldn't project all of their positive energy to my seats about 60 yards from the stage, but then again, not many can. They were as tight musically and as loose personality-wise as one can expect of a band playing to a sea of empty seats.

As usual "Late In The Day" was a highlight, and "Pumping On Your Stereo" seemed to grab the attention of many early-bird Radiohead fans who might not have been familiar with SG. Their Bowie-esque glam and Wings-like pop was easily accessible to the "crowd." SG was solid, energetically performing a set of quality songs. Unfortunately for them, just about opening act could not help but be dwarfed by the act that was to follow.

Radiohead massacred their final song of the evening, "Everything In It's Right Place," the sublime lead track from the sublime 2000 album KID A. Besides that the morose, talented, and intelligent band from Oxford did little wrong.

From "My Iron Lung" to "Morning Bell" to "Lurgee" to "No Surprises" to "A Drunken Punchup At A Wedding," each Radiohead album was lovingly, forcefully, and faithfully represented.

One sign of a transcendent show is when a band leaves a long list of great songs out of the set list, including hit singles and other popular tracks, yet the audience still leaves the show feeling fulfilled. Last night's noticably missing tracks included, "Myxomatosis," "The Bends," "Fake Plastic Trees," "Karma Police," "High And Dry," "Knives Out," "Subterranean Homesick Alien," "Planet Telex..." You get the picture. The point is they skipped TONS of material that most other bands can only dream of shadowing, yet still fashioned a compelling, rocking, varied show.

Hearing "A Wolf At The Door," from this year's HAIL TO THE THIEF album, perfromed live revealed to me (others I'm sure had already noticed this) that the riff is not-so-gently lifted from the Beatles' "I Want You (She's So Heavy)." Nicely done.

Guitarist Jonny Greenwood was seemingly given license to do as he pleased, and at various points throughout the evening he took off on uncharacteristically aggressive solo excursions, never straying too far nor for too long, but with a passion and precision befitting the lead guitarist of the World's Best Band.

How singer Thom Yorke and crew keep their obvious on-stage enthusiasm after 11 years of touring is beyond me. I still have a hard time grasping that they managed to top THE BENDS. And then OK COMPUTER. They have reached a plateu at great height I just hope that they continue to keep me confused.

Check out this article for an interesting perspective on Radiohead:

http://www.eastbayexpress.com/issues/2003-09-17/music.html/1/index.html

Grandaddy/Super Furry Animals/ Earlimart
The Fillmore, S.F., CA. 9/18/03

Earlimart were good. I've seen them before at smaller venues, and I like the new material I've heard. Despite this I did not pay much attention to them at this show. I ran into a couple of very fun to talk to (and, yes, hot) female friends and they were most distracting. Tisk, tisk, I know.

They could not distract me from Super Furry Animals, however, who were nearly as good as last time they came through town and played Bimbo's, and that's saying something, because that Bimbo's show was powerful. The incredible visuals projected behind them weren't quite as in-your-face as last time, when they were an amazing show unto themselves, but they were still far more interesting than most. The new songs sounded strong, the old songs sounded better, and the middle-era SFA stuff rocked, too. And they had such awesome t-shirts (featuring the "Golden Retriever") that I broke down and bought my first concert shirt in years. And I might even wear it. Out of the house, I mean.

Then came Grandaddy. Grandaddy are not the kind of band one needs to look at, and fortunately for us they know that and played some great videos behind them. The videos were well coordinated with the set, some containing narratives of their own, and were phenomenal.

The band were phenomenal, too. The sound is now whole, each noise taking it's proper place, filling in around the edges of the unmistakeable vocals. The songs from the two latest albums are, for the most part, very strong, and the set concentrated on those. Live they no longer sound like Radiohead meets Pavement, they are more Radioment, or Pavehead, in all the best ways.

Now it's on.

The Clientele/ The Tyde/ Rogue Wave
Bottom of the Hill, S.F., CA. 9/17/03

The Clientele -- beautiful. Just like the records. Didn't think they could pull it off. They pulled it off. Galaxie 500 meets the Cardigans (without the women). Hazy soundtracky mellow haunting moody sensitive sweet pop drenched in choreographed feedback over shuffling 60s beats.

Subtle, and emotionally powerful because of it.

Before Clientele The Tyde played a set of excellent jangle pop. Think Lloyd Cole filtered through Buffalo Springfield and the poppiest moments of the Velvet Underground. Britpop via Santa Monica.

The three male Tydes up front were obviously trying to out-bad-hairdo each other. You had the ubiquitous Feral Bobby Brady, the Ron Wood, and the...crap, now I don't remember, but it was the worst of the three. Must have been that "mistake" Maker's Mark that I didn't order but managed to choke down (thanks Ramona!).

Oh, I got it now, it was the Lou Ferrigno as the Hulk 'do. Man, oh, man.

Anyway, despite the sound mix being painfully BRIGHTER THAN A THOUSAND SUNS, and that's only a good thing if we're talking Killing Joke, the hooks and the melodies were great and worked and made me buy the CD (it's called TWICE) and it's so good that three songs immediately made it into rotation. If you like jangly retro psychedelic guitar pop that isn't music to slit your wrists to, look past the bad hair and the awful live mix. Buy The Tyde. TWICE.

The White Stripes/ Ima Robot
The Greek Theatre, Berkeley CA. 9/13/03

Maybe it's because I saw them before Jack decided he had to affect an accent, but the White Stripes used to be better live. Jack used to be Jack, and Jack is very, very good. He can sing. He writes excellent songs. He can be charming (he never fails to thank San Francisco for being the first city to embrace the White Stripes -- even when he's playing in Berkeley). He is a showman. And he can play guitar -- the man is an incredibly talented musician. So why does he try to sound like Eartha Kitt nowadays?

(I did enjoy the times that Jack seemed to be channeling Janis Joplin. It was kind of eerie how right on his vocal impression was. But still -- where has Jack White gone and why won't he come out and play?).

While I'm at it, and this will probably be considered blasphemy by White Stripes fans, but the simple fact is -- Meg is not a good singer. For occassional backing vocals, she's fine. For standing front and center and belting out a crooner like "Cold, Cold Night?" Not so much. You'll see what I mean when, someday, a singer with vocal range and power like Jolie Holland will cover it and make it sound the way it could/should sound.

That said, they still rock, those Stripey kids. Great songs, great energy, great presence...

Ima Robot made me wonder if it was 1984, eliciting a flood of memories of Devo and Howard Jones and the B-52s and poppy Cure and WEIRD SCIENCE. Note to the Robots: the stupid robot walk was done to death in the 80s and nobody actually got off on it then.

And yet they were charming. And some of the tunes were catchy. And some of the words were pretty clever. And I liked them. Any songs that compares running into ex-girlfriends at the same rate as "Black Jettas" in southern California gets my vote.

Oh, and the Greek Theatre is just about perfect. It's an ampitheatre at the base of the Berkeley Hills. Beyond the stage you can see the UC Berkeley campus. Beyond that is the city of Berkeley. Beyond that is the Bay, and the Bay Bridge, and off in the distance is San Francisco. Get there before sundown to experience the view with and without daylight. Just gorgeous.

Pretty Girls Make Graves
Cafe du Nord, S.F., CA. 9/12/03

The bad news is I missed most of the set. I was busy being underwhelmed by comedian Eddie Izzard (or is it comedianne Eddie Izzard, now that he sports fake breasts to go with the makeup and high-heeled boots?). The second act was better than the first, yet I nearly fell asleep in the hot, under-ventilated Orpheum Theatre.

The good news is that of the five PGMG songs I heard, three are or were in rotation on BAGeL Radio. They saved them for me. How sweet is that?

The new record is very good, the live show is even better, and hopefully when they play the Bottom of the Hill in November (the 21st), I will get to see the whole thing.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club/ The Warlocks
The Fillmore, S.F., CA. 9/4/03

[the] caseworker
Bottom Of The Hill, S.F., CA. 8/30/03

Beautiful, melancholy, emotive, moving, hypnotic. Think Galaxie 500 without the weirdness, Ride without the aggression, or Lush without the overt desire to sell records.

This was the first San Francisco show for [the] caseworker and at times the roughness around the edges showed, but never to the extent that it took away from the dark and cozy atmosphere created by the sparse playing and soft, wispy intertwined male-female vocals.

The record is called THESE WEEKS SHOULD BE REMEMBERED, and this record should be purchased.

The Kills
Bottom Of The Hill, S.F., CA. 7/28/03

The Weirdo & Mary Stripes.

Glenn Tilbrook
Cafe du Nord, S.F., CA. 7/26/03

The best solo-acoustic performer making the rounds today. Hyperbole?  Perhaps.  Do I believe the hype?  Definitely.  Tilbrook is certainly the most charming performer I've seen in as long as I can remember. And we all know the former Squeeze singer can sing. What many don't realize is that he is also an excellent guitarist. Great show. If you liked even one song by Squeeze, don't miss your next chance to see Glenn Tilbrook.

The Raveonettes/ The Warlocks
Slim's, S.F., CA. 7/21/03

The Raveonettes so badly want to be the Jesus & Mary Chain, and at times they succeed.

The Warlocks dense, layered, heavy 60s psychedelia is great when they stick to 3-minute pop songs, cumbersome when they go off onto unearned space jams a la Spiritualized.

Longwave/ Making Movies
Slim's, S.F., CA. 7/19/03

Longwave is the Strokes covering Psychedelic Furs songs...or is it the Psych Furs covering Strokes songs? Either way, the songs are good, the playing is good, the vocals are strong...not terribly exciting, but well worth the price of admission.

Tegan & Sara
Cafe du Nord, S.F., CA. 7/15/03

These Canadian 22 year old twin sisters are so punk-rock-don't-even-think-about-calling-us-cute adorable that it is easy to overlook the sturdy pop songs that they construct and the interesting stories they tell.

At times they come across like a less weird Throwing Muses, or a left-of-center Sheryl Crow. Tegan & Sara can both rock and emote at the same time. Folky, then rocky, then punk rock princesses, the range of influences and styles kept the largely lesbian crowd entranced from start to finish. That and the songs. And their adorableness.

Evan Dando
Bottom Of The Hill, S.F., CA. 6/27/03
So good to hear those great, great Lemonheads songs again.  And some of the new solo material sounded good, too.  But oh, those Lemonheads songs...

...And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead
The Fillmore, S.F., CA. 6/22/03

I prefer seeing Trail Of Dead in smaller venues.  Their sound should, theoretically work in large venues, but somehow it thins out and loses some of it's umph.

The Rapture
Great American Music Hall, S.F., CA. 5/13/03

The Rapture's influences are plain to see yet clearly these boys are doing their own thing and doing it well: Public Image Ltd. meets Sister Sledge at the Pixies Clinic combining to make a glittering Gang Of Four.

Quickened disco rhythms combined with punk rock vocals, art rock saxophone bursts, glam rock guitar licks, with electronic(a) noises thrown in from time to time...an odd combination, to be sure, but The Rapture make it work.

They are so cool that they covered Gary Glitter's "Rock And Roll Part Two" (perhaps best known for its late 90s inclusion on the "Jock Rock" compilation CD of sporting event favorites) and more than got away with it, they had the generally too cool for school San Francisco hipster crowd shaking its collective groove thing to it. Gary Glitter. For real. How many bands can do that?

A great live act that outdoes its recorded material -- check them out if you get a chance.

The only downside was the guitarist/singer sporting the "Feral Bobby Brady" look. Yes, another one. But hey, if that's the worst thing one can say about them, they are doing just fine.

The White Stripes
The Warfield, S.F., CA. 4/29/03

Meg & Jack more than made up for their brief, lackluster, whiney performance at Coachella. They had the Warfield crowd (well, at least those of us in the pit, including Renee Zelwegger) squarely in their corner. "Seven Nation Army" and "Ball And Biscuit" stood out amongst the new ELEPHANT tracks, the Meg-fronted "Cold Cold Night" was infinitely better than the version they did in the desert, and "Same Boy You've Always Known" stood out for it's exclusion from the set list.

Let's hope that Jack keeps in mind that "It's the songs, stupid," not the dramatic, overly-affected delivery that makes the White Stripes great. It would be a shame to see the least-mentioned but most important strength of the band superceded and ultimately buried by artifice. For now, thankfully, the scales remain tilted towards the songs.

Various Artists
The Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival, Indio, CA. 4/26& 27, 2003

Queens of the Stone Age stole the weekend; Blur played an understated, down-tempo set just before QOTSA, and despite singer Damon Albarn's insistance on crooning like the "Little Drummer Boy"-era David Bowie, they were great; The White Stripes were plagued by sound and tuning problems and were ultimately disappointing; The Libertines were good and fun but need to vary up their set a bit -- I dig the whole album, but live it got same-y after a few songs; ditto for the Von Bondies; FC Kahuna rocked the electronica tent; Johnny Marr and Ladytron disappointed by doing little; Primal Scream sounded good but looked like they had never met; throughout their set The Polyphonic Spree sounded like they were covering the Who's TOMMY on Ecstasy; Sonic Youth was Sonic Youth; Iggy & The Stooges were disappointing as Iggy seemed drunk and angry...drunk and angry can play well in small, dark, dingy clubs, but on a huge stage in the middle of a well-manicured polo field surrounded by palm trees with purple mountains majesty for a backdrop, drunk and angry came across as wholey unnecessary; Blue Man Group sounded good when they were doing covers, but the originals...well, Tracy's voice was strong; The Hives were about as silly and obnoxious as you might expect from a band who named their first US release YOUR NEW FAVOURITE BAND, and it certainly was impressive that they stuck to their black pants and long-sleeved shirt uniforms despite the 85 degree weather, but one of these days Mick Jagger is going to see them and sue the Swedish singer for wholesale theft of schtick; speaking of thieving from the Stones, Sountrack Of Our Lives was more like Soundtrack Of Our EXILE ON MAIN STREET.

The Notwist
Slim's, S.F., CA. 4/18/03

Sweet, soft indie rock with quiet vocals, lovely melodies spiced with angular Krafwerk inflections, British New Wave flourishes, and the occassional loud, rocking segments. All this performed by five self-deprecating Bavarians who couldn't appear less cool if they tried. Most refreshing.

And better live than on record: the main set, ending with the lead track from the newest album, NEON GOLDEN, was terrific.

I was dubious about their decision to return to the stage for encores -- I felt that they should have left the crowd wanting more. My doubts seemed confirmed by a couple of lackluster tunes, but then The Notwist vindicated themselves by ending the evening with a breathtaking version of CONSEQUENCE, the best song of the night.

Bettie Serveert
Slim's, S.F.CA. 4/11/03

LOVED their debut album, PALOMINE, and have liked but been under whelmed by everything since. PALOMINE was happy, sad, excited, disappointed, curious, fragile, unspecific yet intensely personal, brand new yet as familiar as a favorite dish -- often within the same song. The more recent releases all had the delicate innocence of the debut while the songwriting consistently deepened and progressed, the production and instrumentation expanded and improved, but somehow each lacked the charm and superior melody that made PALOMINE such an irresistibly captivating oddity. I know that description doesn't make much sense, but we're talking about LOVE here, folks. Love isn't supposed to make sense.

Bettie Serveert's latest, SMACK, began making an impression on me the day of the show. The show made it obvious that Bettie Serveert is back on form. SMACK is not on a par with PALOMINE, but at this moment in music history where subtlety has been replaced by anything that sounds like the MC5 and even many independent labels seem to be scrambling to release the next garage-blues smash at the expense of all else, SMACK is a breath of sweetly scented Amsterdam Spring air.

Lead singer Carol van Dijk , who I always thought was way cute but needed a haircut and a less frumpy wardrobe...well, she got a haircut, wore all black (atta girl!)...is now officially a total hottie.

My good friend from college and former roommate Craig (we were roommates when PALOMINE was released) joined me at Slim's, and the two of us stood right up front at the not even remotely crowded Slim's, embarrassingly googley-eyed throughout. There, I admitted it.

I hope it is not another six years until Bettie Serveert find their way back to a San Francisco stage. "Tom Boy?" Not anymore...

The Raveonettes
The Great American Music Hall, S.F., CA. 4/10/03

The Raveonettes? How about The Jesus & Raveon Strokes? A winning combination. Good pop songs, too. Let's hope that the next record is longer and more diverse.

Longwave
Café du Nord, S.F., CA. 4/9/03

The second song sounded like The Strokes covering the Psychedelic Furs' "Into You Like A Train." The third song sounded like The Strokes covering...The Strokes. Enjoyable for me because I like The Strokes. I like Longwave. Except for the feral Bobby Brady look.

If you haven't been to du Nord lately, they've knocked down a couple of walls, moved the pool table, given the place more of a rock venue feel. Check it out. They've got a bunch of good shows coming up -- check out the gig list for specifics.

Sigur Rós
The Paramount Theatre, Oakland, CA. 4/8/03

Just a quick BART ride from downtown San Francisco, the Paramount Theatre in Oakland is a grand, ornate, art deco palace that instantly transported me to another place. A place far from the realities of war, peaceful protesters being maimed by stormtroopers, and Rush Libaugh.

Just after entering that grand lobby, everything I had been thinking about all day, on the train, and outside the venue quickly vanished. Between the lighting, the design, and The Overlook Hotel-like carpet, I half expected to see the floating projection of the disembodies head of The Wizard of Oz (played by Jack Nicholson) at the far end of the lobby.

The auditorium itself is vast and gorgeous, with gilded walls supporting an ornate ceiling.

The palatial men's room in the basement has an anteroom the size of a San Francisco two bedroom apartment plus full-length urinals, the kind that stretch all the way to the floor. Remember those? They remind me of my dad's office in the Empire State building when I was a kid.

Yes, I wasted my time and yours describing the bathroom.

So anyway, there was a show.

I tried to resist being hypnotized by the pre-show soundtrack, nonetheless I found myself hypnotized by the pre-show soundtrack.

Then Sigur Rós ambled out onto the stage.

For the most part SR looked as I expected them to look -- artsy, European, intellectual. This jibes with my vision of their music. The
drummer, however, sported a wide red and white baseball cap, the kind seen at Winston Cup races worn by chaw-chewin' potbellied fellers who think the Thief In Chief is on their side. It took until the first chorus to get over myself. This was my first Sigur Rós show, and I wasn't sure what to expect. Rarely do bands have the ability to match what they do on record, especially recordings as hauntingly shimmeringly gorgeous as those of SR. Last night in Oakland SR not only matched the records, but on some songs even surpassed the recordings in beauty, drama, and emotion. It was astounding.

From the "Jai guru de va" vocals to their whale song-like delivery, from the dramatic dynamics to the deft playing, from the lush beauty of every song to the chaos of the occassional cacophonous diversions therein (they can and do rock out here and there), the experience was far more moving than expected.

Even the lighting was dramatic. Simple but effective, it grew more active and varied as the show progressed. Together with video that was more like static photos moving in and out of focus and jittering about on a screen, the visuals were a most effective compliment to the sounds.

From my seat toward the rear of the orchestra the lighting played off the ornate walls to great effect.

The set had a theatrical/operatic feel throughout. Even though you could hear the rustling of papers and shuffling of feet, there was no chatter between the musicians and no "thank yous" to the appreciative crowd until the very end.

That end saw all 13 players return to the stage for a well deserved chorus-line arm-in-arm bow (or seven) before a standing ovation.

The breathtaking beauty of Sigur Rós at The Paramount Theatre was a reminder that we are sentient, freethinking, intelligent beings, capable of overcoming the less desirable elements of human nature that seem so prevalent here in the U.S. these days.

Thanks, SR. I needed that.

Mark Gardener (of Ride) acoustic
Bottom Of The Hill, S.F., CA. 4/3/03

It was a lot like last week, only longer and better and with better sound and a better venue and with a lot more people in attendance. MG played even more new, non-Ride songs, and seemed more comfortable playing them mixed in with the Ride classics, which, of course, everyone was there to hear.

Read below for more (cop out, I know).

Mark Gardener (of Ride) acoustic
Popscene, S.F., CA., 3/27/03

Mark Gardener, lead singer of luminous early 90s Oxford band Ride ("Chelsea Girl," "Vapour Trail," "Leave Them All Behind") played a brief acoustic set at Popscene last night.

For those Unfamiliar, Ride was one of the original early 90s "shoe gazer" bands that included My Bloody Valentine, Lush, and Catherine Wheel. The sound was dense, multi-layered Beatles/Byrds melodic psychedelia. The name of the genre referred to the fact that these bands tended to not doing a whole lot onstage beyond staring at their shoes.

Ride's first several releases contain some of the most gorgeous post-alternative distorted guitar noise pop ever recorded. Grandiose messy swirling beauty. For comparison, Ride was like:

- a more accessible My Bloody Valentine

- less experimental Sonic Youth

- more ethereal/less lyrically direct Dinosaur Jr.

- more somber Lush, without the female vocals

- Chapterhouse without the overt dance beats

- (later) Blur without the humor

Or some combination thereof.

Or something.

Most of the songs Mark chose last night translated nicely to the acoustic arrangement. This was his fourth-ever solo acoustic show and he acquitted himself well, making me look forward to the full set at the Bottom of the Hill next Thursday (4/3).

"Vapour Trail" was the highlight of the brief set, and "Drive Blind" had me longing for my long-lost Ride vinyl (destroyed in a flood in 1996).

Ride's mid-nineties albums were much maligned at the time and largely ignored by yours truly. I went back to CARNIVAL OF LIGHT (1994) recently and found that it was still disappointing, hardly worthy of the band that created the sublime aural sculptures on NOWHERE (1990), the TODAY-FOREVER EP (1991), and GOING BLANK AGAIN (1992), but not nearly as bad as I remembered it.

They evolved. They stripped away some of the noise and sounded a little bit more "mainstream." At the time that seemed a crime to me. In retrospect the crime was mine: dismissing a fine record.

TARANTULA (1996), on the other hand...well...I'm going to give it another listen and hope for the best. I'll let you know how it went after the Bottom Of The Hill show.

Supergrass/ The Coral
Bimbo's, S.F., CA., 3/23/03

Last year The Coral's eponymous debut album came flying out of left field and hit me on the head like a baseball glove flung from the upper deck. I must admit that I still don't know what hit me or why I love it, but I do.

It was with great pleasure that I discovered that The Coral are more than capable of backing up their recordings when they play live.

I do wish they'd learn to cut out the silly jam sessions. It was not jam band jamming, mind you, not that endless noodling that sends me to the bar for additional anesthetic or to the door for a cab. It was damned annoying, though, because The Coral don't need to waste time that way. They have enough good songs to fill out a solid set, especially the limited time alloted for a support act at Bimbo's. The worst example of this came during "Goodbye" to which an extended middle bit was added that accomplished nothing. Those wasted 10 minutes in live Coral time (they played "Skeleton Key" so fast that it was over in about 45 seconds!) should have translated into three more twisted pop gems.

Speaking of "Goodbye," before hearing it performed live it never occurred to me what a debt that song owes to The Mighty Lemon Drops. Anyone remember the MLD? The Coral were school kids back when MLD were around singing about their "Happy Head" and "My Biggest Thrill."

Following to the stage a talented, energetic bunch of kids from Liverpool, Supergrass had a lot to live up to. As always they managed to hold their own. The playing was excellent, Gaz's voice was in fine shape considering that this was the last show of their American tour, and the set list covered SG history nicely. The only disappointment was the omission of "Late In The Day" from the set list, but they mentioned they'd be back in a few months, so I guess we'll all just have to go see them again to hear them play that. Darn.

The Vines/ The Music

The Fillmore, S.F., CA. 3/22/03
 
Once again Vines singer Craig Nichols hit a San Francisco stage oozing the obnoxious rock star/Strokes routine, but once again he, his band, and their songs made it forgivable.  Are they incapable of writing a bad song, or have they just managed to keep the lame ones off of the recordings so far? 
 
One major improvement this time over the Vines' last SF gig was Craig's ability to stay within vocal range of the mic.  Last time a good chunk of the lead vocals were inaudible as Craig flailed around with his guitar, at times seeming oblivious to the fact that he was supposed to also be singing.  (Or at least oblivious to the fact that those of us in attendance who relied on the PA system to hear his voice could not hear his screams).
 
They played a couple of as-yet-undistinguished new songs, plus pretty much all of their debut album HIGHLY EVOLVED, and their cover of "Ms. Jackson," which I still don't get but the rest of the crowd seemed thrilled with, so don't go by me. 
 
HIGHLY EVOLVED was a terrific debut and I'm hoping for more of the same on next Vines release: Kurt Cobain possessing David Bowie singing Paul McCartney's Beatles songs with John Lennon's cheek.
 

Sahara Hotnights/ Ikara Colt

Slim's , S.F., CA., 3/21/03
 
Sahara Hotnights = the Runaway Hives.  Four Swedish girls churning out simple, brash, catchy Ramonesy bursts of punky poppy garage rock.  Not a bad combination, although I do wish they'd do something about that lame name. 
 
Ikara Colt could have been great had we been able to hear the vocals and had the rest of the noises they were making come through the house PA.  Alas, it seemed like we were hearing their stage volume, so they were simply pleasant and promising.
 
Chris Robinson and The New Earth Mudd
Slim's, S.F., CA., 3/9/03
 
I am a Chris Robinson fan.  He's talented, articulate, personable, funny, doesn't take himself too seriously, and has made some damned fine music over the past decade.
 
With that in mind, a little further disclosure here is necessary: I don't like jam bands as a rule.  Incessant guitar noodling that turns 3-minute pop songs into sprawling, meandering, seemingly endless slabs of useless jamming just piss me off no end.  Chris Robinson and the New Earth Mudd pissed me off no end.
 
CR has got such a great voice.  The players in the band are obviously so, so good.  Why they have to pretend they are moe. doing Lynyrd Skynrd covers is beyond me.

Death Cab For Cutie/ Velvet Teen/ Thermals
Slim's, S.F., CA., 3/7/03
 
Death Cab For Cutie played only a handful of new songs, but each had great potential.  The stuff that filled out the rest of the set was much of their finest work played with much charm and great precision, except for a couple of glaring mistakes, but I think they are working in a new drummer, so they get some slack for those mistakes.  The new drummer seemed to stick with less complicated beats that the previous guy, and sometimes simpler is better. 
 
The Velvet Teen rocked.  The singer is a cross between Jeff Buckley and James Walsh (Starsailor), and his incredibly distorted keyboard invoked Mates of State.  I can't wait to see these guys again after I am familiar with their material.

The Thermals have he potential to some day make me pogo.  Today they did not.  They almost did.  That's something.

Folk Implosion/ Mia Doi Todd/ Alaska!/ Citizens Here & Abroad

Bottom Of The Hill, S.F.,CA. 2/27/03
 
It's official.  I'm in love with the Bottom of the Hill.  San Francisco is blessed with several excellent live music venues including the Great American Music Hall, the Fillmore, the Hemlock...but the Bottom of the Hill is the best of a quality bunch. 
 
BoTH features consistently good sound, just enough stage lighting, just enough floor lighting, pinball, pool, cheap grub, reasonable prices at the bar, management rarely overpacks the place and, most importantly the staff is so friendly and helpful that it always feels like the place is run by a family.  A nice family.
 
Arriving too late to see opening act Citizens Here & Abroad I was surprised to find the venue less crowded than it had been the previous Thursday for Ben Kweller/ Brendan Benson/ Centro-matic. 
 
Alaska! started off with an acoustic set.  The songs were lovely but I much preferred the plugged in electric set, which opened with the moving "The Western Shore," the lead track on their debut album, EMOTIONS.  "The Western Shore" also appeared on a recent CMJ New Music Monthly compilation CD, which was where I heard it first, and is currently featured on several BAGeL Radio shows. 
 
During and between sets folks came out of the venue in dribs and drabs to smoke, use cell phones, get air, etc.  Most were curious about the rows of paper lunch bags full of bagels lined up on the flatbed truck out front and came over to investigate.  It was a pleasure to be able to talk to people individually and in small groups about what the radio station is all about.
 
I missed the next act almost entirely -- the  stunning solo singer Mia Doi Todd -- as I loaded up the truck with the rest of the bagels in preparation for the mass exodus after Folk Implosion.
 
During the break prior to FI's set I was standing on the truck and a guy (Eric) came over and asked if I had a cigarette.  I said no, but noticed a girl (Allison) who was just arriving lighting up at the front door and pointed her out to him.   

She came over asking what the pointing was about.  I didn't hear the guy's answer, but her reply was a playfully crabby, "Do you have a direct question for me or not?  Ask a direct question."  I asked her, " Would you like a free, fresh bagel?  Is that direct enough for you?"  She gave the guy a cigarette and then came over to talk to me.  She was very cynical but in an interesting, friendly kind of way, and she accepted a free bagel.  And then another.
 
I gave her my extra ticket, too.  Unable to find anyone who could join me I'd already written it off as a loss, and I thought that the gesture might help improve her mood.
 
FI were terrific in a "This is the first show of our tour so we haven't worked out all the kinks yet but isn't this silly and fun" kind of way.  Very informal, very affable, very good at times, a bit of a shambles at others, but at least the band didn't take itself too seriously.  At one point Lou actuallapologized to the crowd, "That's a really good song.  Sorry we screwed it up...sorry Iscrewed it up."
 
During one of my stints out front I was approached by a woman curious about the bagels.  I told her the deal, and she asked if I needed anything from inside, told me she'd put me on the guest list (I told her I already had a ticket), said she thought the whole idea was way cool, introduced me to some of her entourage (Noise Pop organizer folks), and then introduced herself as simply, "Kathleen, I'm from the club."  I'm pretty sure she's the manager of the venue.  She took some bagels for the bartenders and asked the door staff to help me in any way they could. When I saw her later she asked about the flatbed truck.  I told her I couldn't take credit for it, that it was a simple case of good fortune, of the karmic wheel spinning back around after having rained on me the night before, and that I hoped it would still be there so I could use it again the next night.  She said, "Well, if it's not, we'll set up a table for you."  It was really sweet.  I loved that venue before last night, I love it more now.
 
Just before the show ended,  Allison (cynical smoker) came over and smiled and expressed surprise that I was still there.  She lit up, then thanked me for her ticket.  I told her she could pay me back by jumping up on the truck and helping me distribute bagels.  She hopped up on the truck and stood behind me for a couple of minutes, concerned that folks wouldn't say "thank you" enough.  I found the BOTH crowd to be most appreciative.  Allison wandered off to the front of the truck and leaned against the cab smoking her cigarette, watching as the first few folks to exit the club made their way to the truck for bagels.  When the throngs finally emerged the door staff graciously directed them all towards me (thanks guys!), and most happily took bagels and some took seconds. 

This was in stark contrast to my experience promoting in the rain outside the Donnas/OK Go show at the Fillmore the night before.  At that show if it wasn't for the three British guys I had with me, I never would have gotten rid of all of the free food.
 
Much to Allison's surprise, just about everyone said "thank you."  Just before she left she said that in the course of the evening her faith in humanity had been restored.

I love stuff like that.
 
As the mad rush slowed to a trickle an attractive, dark-haired woman approached the flatbed.  She introduced herself as Betty, an editor at Live365 (the network that hosts BAGeL Radio).  She said someone had come into work at Live365 with a bunch of BAGeL Radio promo stuff received at a Noise Pop show the night before. 
 
Betty said that the co-worker passed the promo items around the office and the Live365 people were psyched about it.  I guess there is now some discussion about "featuring" BAGeL Radio.  Not sure what that means, but it sounds good to me.  Especially if it means I get to see Betty again.  She was fine.

Thanks again to everyone who stopped to chat last night, and to those who have been hitting the site (bagelradio.com) and listening to the radio station.  I do appreciate it.  

Hope to see some of you again tonight at the Bottom of the Hill for Hot Rod Circuit/ Tsunami Bomb/ Eleventeen.  You bring the cream cheese, I'll bring the bagels.

The Donnas/OK Go
The Fillmore, S.F., CA. 2/26/03 (NOISE POP SHOW)
 
The Donnas were cute, proficient, and boring.  The guitarist's "So Many Boys, So Little Time" t-shirt was a nice touch and the band played well, but there was definitely something missing from the performance.  Panache?  Emotion?  My attention span?
 
Mute Records' trip-hop band Slick Sixty, visiting from London, and I missed the opening acts save one song.  We were busy putting BAGeL Radio stickers on paper lunch bags, then stuffing the bags with bagels and fliers to hand out outside of the Fillmore after the show.  Sadly, that mindless assembly-line work proved more fun than the Donnas.  The other fun that trumped the headliner for me was seeing the reactions of my visiting friends to the Fillmore.  None of the Slick boys had been inside before and their awe and reverence (and desire to someday play on that stage)  was evident.  They admired the recent and decades-old show posters and photos covering the walls.  MJ was impressed with how, when the band was
playing, folks left the bar area and actually paid attention to the stage.  MJ also wanted to take home the gigantic photo of The Who from the main foyer on the way out.  Reason prevailed -- we figured the staff might notice.
 
We did catch one OK Go song, the single "Get Over It," and it sounded just like the record.  In a good way.  When OK Go opened for the Vines at Slim's several months ago and they were most entertaining, right down to their Toto cover.  Yes, that Toto.
 
Thanks to everyone who took the free BAGeL Radio bagels last night.  I know it's strange to have someone offer you free food.  I know it's strange to have someone offer you free food at midnight.  I know it's strange to have someone offer you food at midnight in the rain when all you want to do is get home.  I hope that you enjoyed them.
 
You can get more of those chewy, tasty, NY-style Manhattan Bagel bagels tonight in front of the Bottom of the Hill after the Folk Implosion/ Alaska! show.  Hope to see you there.

Ben Kweller/ Brendan Benson/ Centro-matic

Bottom Of The Hill, S.F., CA. 2/20/03
 
Before the show last night all I'd heard by Centro-matic were a couple of streamed MP3s through a pair of crap headphones.  I liked what I heard so decided to try to make it through all three bands on the bill at the Bottom of the Hill.
 
An aside...the headphones were stolen from an airline, and in my book, deservedly so. When airlines"rent" crap headphones to passengers for more than the damned things cost to buy the airlines are asking to get ripped off right back.
Getting back to the topic at hand, the Centro-matic set was well-received and sounded really good.  They have a tendency toward grandiose noisy jams (not jam-band jams, mind you), and are very good at it, but when three straight songs feature this tactic it loses some of it's ooomph.  Note to the Centro-matic fellas -- set list order can enhance or undermine shows.
 
Still, the songs were strong, the playing was proficient, and the sincerity was there, so I couldn't leave the venue without purchasing the two most recent Centro-matic CDs.  I have a feeling a track or two will soon be added into regular rotation on BAGeL Radio.
 
I was really looking forward to Brendan Benson's performance.  His brilliant LAPALCO album was one of my top ten of 2002, and the song "Folk Singer" is the highest rated song on BAGeL Radio (at time of writing).  I thought about telling him so when I spotted him in the crowd watching Centro-matic, but having never met the guy before I decided against it.
 
I'd seen BB perform a couple of times previously and enjoyed the shows.  This time the live performance was underwhelming.  The live show has a lot to live up to -- the songs on LAPALCO are just great (if he becomes more prolific in his 30s
than he was in his 20s BB will be recognized as an immense songwriting talent)
and the production is spot-on. (The lead track, "Tiny Spark," can now be heard in a Saturn commercial).  Hard to improve on that (not the commercial part).  The band, The Wellfed Boys, was tight and energetic, Brendan was as cuddly as a skeleton can be, they played several songs I did not know, yet the show left something to be desired.
Perhaps my expectations were too high...
 
I arrived at the Bottom of the Hill extremely fond of Ben Kweller's debut solo effort, SHA SHA.  By the time I left I had a far greater appreciation for BK's the performer and his songs.
 
Roller-skate skinny wearing a hooded, zippered maroon sweatshirt, printed t-shirt, jeans, and topped off by Willie Aames' EIGHT IS ENOUGH haircut, BK could have passed for a high school junior.  Or maybe a junior high school senior.  In 1978.  Having seen photos of my siblings and their friends from back then -- BK has the look down pat.  His songwriting style would have fit in well back then, too.
 
Like Beck singing Weezer singles using a teenaged Scott Wieland's voice to evoke
a Ben Foldsish ambiance, BK hit the stage and the energy in the room jumped.  BK was immediately embraced by the sold out, all-ages crowd and it was clear that BK felt all warm and fuzzy about the crowd, too.  Impossibly likeable, he comes across as someone who really enjoys being on stage playing music to and interacting with rooms full of people.  It's like he's been doing it his whole life and last night the Bottom of the Hill got to share his joy with him.
 
As (gig buddy) Alicia so aptly put it, "That boy has charisma with a capital K." 

He sings, plays piano, harmonica, and guitar as naturally as most people breathe.  Last night BK chose to cover the Elvis classic, "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You," which was nice, but didn't really add anything to the show.
 
On the other hand it was a treat when, during the breakdown of the show's closing song, the power-chord power-pop power-ballad "No Reason," BK and guitarist Mike Stroud not-quite-seamlessly segued into and out of "Sweet Child Of Mine."  Even though many in the audience were undoubtly still in diapers when that song brought Axl and Slash fame and fleeting fortune, waves of smiling recognition spread through the room.
 
BK rocks.  His band rocks.  He writes great songs.  He's personable.  Go see him when he passes through your town.  You'll be glad you did.  And so will Ben.

Neil Finn/ Rhett Miller 

The Warfield, S.F., 2/13/03
 
Stuck with an extra ticket at the last minute I ended up standing outside the venue trying to recoup at least some of the $32 I'd paid per ticket ($7 of that went to TicketBastard).  The first potential buyer offered me $10.  Not a big fan of scalpers, I told him I'd rather eat the ticket.   I had given up on selling it and gotten in line to go into the Warfield when I heard a guy behind me ask if there were still tickets available -- I turned around and got $30 for my extra ticket.
 
Of course by then Rhett Miller had hit the stage and hit the road, which was disappointing.  I'd seen him headline at the Fillmore a couple of months ago and enjoyed the show, especially the excellent cover of the Pixies' "Wave Of Mutilation" he and his new band, The Instigators, dug out.  For Pixies fans: tempo-wise RM & THE I's version was smack-dab in the middle between the album version and the haunting UK Surf Mix b-side version that was featured in the Christian Slater college radio film PUMP UP THE VOLUME.

RM is an excellent performer.  His music is saccharine-sweet jangly love song after jangly love (lost) song and I like it.  Didn't at first, but it grew on me.   There are still vestiges of the alt-country pedigree he earned with his other band, Old 97s, but for the most part his solo album THE INSTIGATOR is just plain pop rock.
 
One last thing about that show from months ago that I'm not supposed to be writing about now since it was months ago -- the audience was about 70% female, astonishing for a rock show.  It was like attending a yoga class -- in the Fillmore.  Most pleasant.
 
There is no doubt that RM has serious sex appeal.  Innocent yet piercing blue eyes (picture the boy on cover of U2's WAR album), high cheekbones, little boy/fashion plate 'do, and constantly swiveling hips encased in painted on jeans make him a bona fide hunk.  I expect that he's been on the cover of several issues of Tiger Beat Magazine over the past few years.
 
Looking at the promo posters for this current tour, Neil Finn is looking old.  The lines in his face are becoming canyons.
 
I stood far enough from the Warfield stage to not be able to tell, and it was an illusion I'd prefer to keep.  His performance and persona have not aged, and I was surprised by how many of his songs I recognized and was glad to hear.  Someone had a scrolling red LED sign that read, "KISS ME NEIL!"  After figuring out the text NF addressed her, "You wouldn't want to kiss me if you knew what was going on in this throat," one of two mentions that he was a bit under the weather (the other occurred when someone shouted out a request).
 
Speaking of requests, someone apparently blurted out the obligatory "Free Bird" request, and NF's American guitarist obliged with a skewed but easily recognizable romp through the intro and a chorus.
 
The crowd was definitely full of bigger NF fans than I -- many songs became Warfield-wide sing-alongs.  I have his latest album, ONE ALL,but other than that and some Crowded House, I have nothing.  I have Split Enz on hologram-etched vinyl, but that doesn't count -- technically that was his brother Tim's band.
 
Neil's current band, which includes Lisa Germano, is solid if not spectacular.
   
Bob Log III/ Coachwhips 

Bottom Of The Hill, S.F., CA., 2/3/03
 
Hello everyone.  Hope that a bunch of you got to check out the Coachwhips open up for Bob Log III last night at the Bottom of the Hill.  Having seen Coachwhips previously at tiny venues like the back room at the Hemlock and the Eagle Tavern (yes, THAT Eagle Tavern) I was looking forward to seeing them play on an actual stage and with a decent sound system.
 
That they set up to play on the floor in front of the stage and encouraged their roommates and everyone else in the venue to encroach on their space as they encroached on ours should not have been much of a surprise. The Bottom of the Hill crowd complied, dancing around and through the players like they were just part of the pit.  The band was it's typical frenetic garagey self, with John Dwyer'slead vocals coming through a classic 50s looking microphone all crackly, compressed, and distorted.
 
The crowd pogoed, the band pogoed...it was a regular pogo-fest.
 
John announced that his "mother and fucking father" were in attendance last night.  I doubt they went home disappointed.  Their son ripped through a raucous set of blistering stripped down garage (the kind with a rickety old wooden door) blues punk rock that left the faithful at the Bottom of the Hill wanting more.
 
One-man band Bob Log III showed up in his signature motorcycle helmet/vocal device.  Inserted into the glass windshield is a c-shaped telephone receiver/microphone which makes him look like a jet fighter pilot.  Pounding out beats on his kick drum with his right foot and inserting other percussion with his left, BLIII played an aggressive brand of slide guitar blues, with distorted vocals not unlike those of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion before JSBX decided to try to move a few units and toned it down.  I will need to see Mr. Log again, hopefully not following a smoking opening band like last night, before I can make any further determinations.  His journal/essays make for fun reading:
 
http://www.fatpossum.com/bobsmall.html
 
Start with "Guitar Practicing Tips" and  "Serge And The Knives."