Well, my friends, all you need is a new favorite.
Stuck in Kalamazoo for another summer? Looking at all the killer festivals and shows for the summer, but can't quite cut it on part-time minimum wage and milking the last few leftover student loan dollars? With declining revenue from album sales, EVERYONE is hiking up ticket prices (even DMB's lawn tickets are $40 and up this season... it seems like just yesterday I paid $24 to sit in the rain and jam out to "One Sweet World..." Oh, to be young.)
No worries! As we all know by now, there are plenty of outrageously good bands right here in K Town. Just because you didn't make it to Coachella and are "trying" to get your tix to Bonnaroo (c'mon) doesn't mean you can't rock out and have a really spectacular night.
[Dying to see...] [You should check out...]
Phish? DMB? The Ragbirds. This chick-fronted folk band plays a funky
repertoire of roots-folk and world music. The MI natives
have carved out a significant place in the regional folk scene
and are embarking on a summer tour that will take them all
over the Midwest... including right here in Kzoo. With a
wide range of sounds for a beautiful-- and fun, if you wanna
get your dance on-- and always-changing sound, The
Ragbirds offer up a sound that will surely leave you wanting
more. With artful and clever lyrics ("Honesty is following
your demons/ to the place that they reside/ and then you
pot some plants outside their windowsill/ to let you crawl
inside") as well as sounds from the Carribbean, Romania,
and beyond, this is one "hippie jam band" that definitely
breaks the mold.
Jay Z? Gorillaz? M.E.D. Just because you're in Kalamazoo doesn't mean
you can't get your hip-hop fix. M.E.D. (Mental Elastic
Dynasty) mixes infectious beats with a wide range of verses:
the three MCs of MED-- the "level-headed and serious"
Anagram; the stylistic chameleon Philosophy; and token
wiseguy L-C.I.D.-- blend together to create a multi-faceted
feel, with rhymes that would appeal to even the most
seasoned hip-hop aficionado (check out "There They Go"
and "Money;" both available on MySpace).
Weezer? Tom Petty
and the Heartbreakers? Vampire
Weekend? Dead Scene Radio. Known for their pop sensibilities and
choruses so sweet you just might get a toothache, these
Kzoo-scene bigwigs are the first word in pop-rock (be on
the lookout for a full-length from them this summer!).
The Black Keys? Kings of
Leon? The Raconteurs? Elm Street Riot. After blowing the roof off a show at
Corner Bar last weekend with A Friend Called Fire, and
rocking out Kalamazoo Noise Convention this Thursday,
Elm Street Riot have been pretty busy dudes lately... and,
lucky for us, there's no end in sight. With their bluesy
garage-rock, ESR just might be on their way to ruling the
Kalamazoo Scene.
Jeff Beck? Robby Haas Trio. While Robby Haas Trio might not quite
stack up to The Loner himself, they do just fine at
embodying the freewheeling blues style to get you grooving
this summer. While they currently do not appear to have
any shows scheduled, keep your eye out for these dudes
this summer if you're into a good crunchy blues jam every
now and again (and who isn't).
Steve Martin and the
Steep Canyon Rangers?
The String Cheese Incident? Rootstand. Summer is, indeed, the very best time to check
out one of my very favorite bands in Kalamazoo...
Rootstand! With a unique, "swashbucklin'" style of
bluegrass, Rootstand is sure to get you steppin' in the very
best way. Their hypnotizing, roots-oriented jams are
enough to convert even the most staunch naysayers into
bluegrass junkies... and, hey, what goes better with a
delicious Oberon than a sweaty hippie dancefest?
Welcome to Michigan, ya'll (check out the absurdly-good
"River Blues" on their MySpace). Oh, and of course,
don't forget about Greensky Bluegrass, who require neither
introduction nor explanation.
John Mayer or JM3? Four Finger Five. Those active in the jam scene in
southwest Michigan are probably already familiar with
FF5. Known for killer shows and facemelting blues
jams, FF5 epitomizes the perfect summer gig. Their
smooth funk/ jazz/ blues, polished by buttah-smooth vocals
reminiscent of the J-man himself, is sure to induce
involuntary booty-shaking all over the state... and
beyond... this summer (check out their groove "Giving It
All Away;" be careful, it's known to be habit-forming). If
you read this TODAY (5/1/10) they will be playing a set at
Bell's... what better way to kick off the summer?
Jason Mraz? Jack
Johnson? We Know Jackson. Ok, admit it. You loooove acoustic/
piano driven melodies, girl-I'll-be-your-best-boy-ever
motifs and catchy choruses aplenty (complete with "la-da-
da"s). Hey, I'm not telling. This jazz-pop trio, fronted by
boyband-ready Chris Janowiak, has been around in
southwest Michigan for several years, leaving no schoolgirl
uncrushed ("crush" figuratively, natch). With impressive
musical chops that set them apart from much of the "pop"
crowd, We Know Jackson prove they're more than just
pretty faces (check out "The Way,"available on MySpace).
Hot Chip? Imogen Heap? Juliana Stein. Did you think you weren't going to get your
electro-pop on? Relax; don't get your American Apparel
pants in a bunch. Juliana Stein-- a newcomer on the
scene-- weaves cool electronic tunes and remixes that will
either get you on the dance floor, or reignite your creative
fires... up to you. With her artfulness and indie aesthetic,
Stein stays grounded by a sense of humor with her music
and would likely put on a show this town wouldn't soon
forget. If you like Juliana Stein, check out DUDE aTOMic!
The Flaming Lips? Crash City Saints. These artisans of ambient guitar-rock
have been on the Kalamazoo scene for years, taking
listeners on a sonic journey with every release and every
show (most recently, they rocked the Strutt for Noise
Convention!). With their signature guitar sound
(heavily-distorted, layered and ambient for a lush, unique
feel) set off by haunting, mysterious-sounding vocals and
relentless but subtle percussion, Crash City Saints is like
the soundtrack to a daydream.Striking the perfect balance
between raw alt-rock and fuzzy swirls of ambient sound,
Crash City Saints is the perfect band to check out
when you need a vacation, but only have an hour or two...
hey, it's ok to space out and just enjoy the show. So go
ahead... close your eyes and lose yourself in the swirls of
beautiful chaos and enjoy your journey down the rabbit
hole.
Showing posts with label Rootstand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rootstand. Show all posts
Saturday, May 01, 2010
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
The Communist Musicfesto [part I: Dunegrass]
So you've probably heard the news already: Rothbury '10 is not happening. The one thing that had kept me going when I was dragging my trash can up the driveway through 6 inches of snow: 4 days of friends, fun, and the best live music lineup in America-- damn skippy, Bonnaroo-- definitely not happening.
There are rumors circulating that the "real" reason is that the neighbors were complaining about the noise, and the surrounding communities passes some sort of noise ordinance... Rothbury maintains that they "are not able to move forward with the integrity and high standards that we demand from ourselves and for the festival." Another rumor, which might actually support that one, is that Gorillaz were supposed to headline, and backed out (but DAMN how tight would that have been). I refuse to believe that the citizens aren't allowing it; West Michigan is not that dumb-- to refuse thousands of tourism dollars flowing into your community over a few nights of noise-- but, I guess we'll never know.
The good news is that bands will always tour and stoned college kids will always congregate.
2010 Festival Preview
[Dunegrass]
Dunegrass is a roots festie which takes place on the lovely Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. I've never been, but from what I can glean it seems extreeeeeeeemely laid-back, "user-friendly" (attn first timers) and a whole lot of fun. There's a fantastic lineup this year, including a couple of Kalamazoo bands:
First and foremost, may I discuss:
[ROOTSTAND!!!!!!!!!!]
That's right, Kalamazoo's own Rootstand is perched conspicuously near the top of the Dunegrass lineup (second only to Steppin' In It, from Lansing). You might remember my review of a Rootstand show at Bell's last October... ("might" being the operative word there).
Rootstand is exactly what you want to hear when you think of Midwest roots culture: a highly danceable, uptempo style of country/ bluegrass/ folk, a style that the band (very aptly) describes as "swashbuckling." I mentioned in the aforementioned Rocktober post that one of the members of this band was a housemate of mine, and I'm recalling now that I'm listening to their Myspace a certain Rich & Rare-fueled jam sesh I sat in on with a couple guys from this band. And let me tell you, as someone who has seen these guys out of the context of a show: their musicianship; their sheer love for roots and for what they do-- these are the kind of guys that are MADE of music. And you can't fake that.
Alas, to call them a roots band wouldn't do them justice. You have to hear a whole set to understand them, but Rootstand's set ebbs and flows between sounds that I hesitate to call "genres" for lack of depth; from the heart of the Ozarks to the underground voodoo clubs of New Orleans, to the grimy pubs of Dublin to-- yes-- Bell's beer garden-- Rootstand summons the powers of the grandaddies of folk, blues, and-- let's face it, whatever the fuck they want-- and harnesses it into a thrilling set that, well, just might change everything you thought you loved about music into something newer, deeper, more ornate. Rootstand, thanks for making the Kzoo scene proud.
[Graham Parsons and the Go-Rounds]
Admittedly, I've never seen Graham Parsons play... however, you might remember he sort of MCed the Boogie Records Revival show at The Strutt (was that last week? perhaps the week before?) with Michael Beauchamp. And while I found what I described in my notes as their "shuckin' and jivin'" to be charming, I have heard good things about Graham Parsons and would have liked to see him play. But no dice.
However, I'm listening to his Myspace right now and it is... well, ungodly impressive.
Hearing his music created for me one of those "wait, are you an old black man? Oh, you're a skinny white college kid" moments (a la Johnny Lang). Silky, silky smooth... Almost John Legend-esque: soulful, fluent, rich as a cup of hot cocoa on a cold February day in Michigan.
Parsons is dangerously talented; nestled snugly in the perfect place between the dichotomy of smooth, effortless vibrato and a soulful rasp, his vocals alone are schoolgirl-crush-inducing; alongside his band (vaguely reminiscent of the Black Keys) the effect is like buttah.
Like two sticks of buttah.
As far as I've been able to determine, those are the only Kalamazoo bands playing at Dunegrass, but it is a largely Michigan-oriented festival; there will be other regional acts playing. A few of my faves: Steppin' In It (Lansing); Rachael Davis Band (Lake City); and Covert Operations (Flint).
I think tickets to Dunegrass are around $45... Gorgeous Michigan panorama and incredible music, featuring some badass Kalamazoo bands? What more can you ask for?
There's more to come for my Michigan summer festival preview: Hoxeyville, Wheatland, and maybe even more!
To be continued...
There are rumors circulating that the "real" reason is that the neighbors were complaining about the noise, and the surrounding communities passes some sort of noise ordinance... Rothbury maintains that they "are not able to move forward with the integrity and high standards that we demand from ourselves and for the festival." Another rumor, which might actually support that one, is that Gorillaz were supposed to headline, and backed out (but DAMN how tight would that have been). I refuse to believe that the citizens aren't allowing it; West Michigan is not that dumb-- to refuse thousands of tourism dollars flowing into your community over a few nights of noise-- but, I guess we'll never know.
The good news is that bands will always tour and stoned college kids will always congregate.
2010 Festival Preview
[Dunegrass]
Dunegrass is a roots festie which takes place on the lovely Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. I've never been, but from what I can glean it seems extreeeeeeeemely laid-back, "user-friendly" (attn first timers) and a whole lot of fun. There's a fantastic lineup this year, including a couple of Kalamazoo bands:
First and foremost, may I discuss:
[ROOTSTAND!!!!!!!!!!]
That's right, Kalamazoo's own Rootstand is perched conspicuously near the top of the Dunegrass lineup (second only to Steppin' In It, from Lansing). You might remember my review of a Rootstand show at Bell's last October... ("might" being the operative word there).
Rootstand is exactly what you want to hear when you think of Midwest roots culture: a highly danceable, uptempo style of country/ bluegrass/ folk, a style that the band (very aptly) describes as "swashbuckling." I mentioned in the aforementioned Rocktober post that one of the members of this band was a housemate of mine, and I'm recalling now that I'm listening to their Myspace a certain Rich & Rare-fueled jam sesh I sat in on with a couple guys from this band. And let me tell you, as someone who has seen these guys out of the context of a show: their musicianship; their sheer love for roots and for what they do-- these are the kind of guys that are MADE of music. And you can't fake that.
Alas, to call them a roots band wouldn't do them justice. You have to hear a whole set to understand them, but Rootstand's set ebbs and flows between sounds that I hesitate to call "genres" for lack of depth; from the heart of the Ozarks to the underground voodoo clubs of New Orleans, to the grimy pubs of Dublin to-- yes-- Bell's beer garden-- Rootstand summons the powers of the grandaddies of folk, blues, and-- let's face it, whatever the fuck they want-- and harnesses it into a thrilling set that, well, just might change everything you thought you loved about music into something newer, deeper, more ornate. Rootstand, thanks for making the Kzoo scene proud.
[Graham Parsons and the Go-Rounds]
Admittedly, I've never seen Graham Parsons play... however, you might remember he sort of MCed the Boogie Records Revival show at The Strutt (was that last week? perhaps the week before?) with Michael Beauchamp. And while I found what I described in my notes as their "shuckin' and jivin'" to be charming, I have heard good things about Graham Parsons and would have liked to see him play. But no dice.
However, I'm listening to his Myspace right now and it is... well, ungodly impressive.
Hearing his music created for me one of those "wait, are you an old black man? Oh, you're a skinny white college kid" moments (a la Johnny Lang). Silky, silky smooth... Almost John Legend-esque: soulful, fluent, rich as a cup of hot cocoa on a cold February day in Michigan.
Parsons is dangerously talented; nestled snugly in the perfect place between the dichotomy of smooth, effortless vibrato and a soulful rasp, his vocals alone are schoolgirl-crush-inducing; alongside his band (vaguely reminiscent of the Black Keys) the effect is like buttah.
Like two sticks of buttah.
As far as I've been able to determine, those are the only Kalamazoo bands playing at Dunegrass, but it is a largely Michigan-oriented festival; there will be other regional acts playing. A few of my faves: Steppin' In It (Lansing); Rachael Davis Band (Lake City); and Covert Operations (Flint).
I think tickets to Dunegrass are around $45... Gorgeous Michigan panorama and incredible music, featuring some badass Kalamazoo bands? What more can you ask for?
There's more to come for my Michigan summer festival preview: Hoxeyville, Wheatland, and maybe even more!
To be continued...
Sunday, November 01, 2009
UFOs! The Re-Appearance of Angel! Severed toes! MUST BE HALLOWEEN!
I hope you've all slept off your respective Halloween hangovers. I know I have. If by "slept off" I mean MOVED. TODAY. Like moving doesn't suck enough.
But let's just say I had a Halloween blast. Which is rare, and also ironic, because I HATE HALLOWEEN. That's right. I said it. But, suffice it to say, Halloween: 21; Meg: 0. I always say I'm not going to do anything for Halloween because it is just a dangerous, awkward waste of time, an appalling capitalist mechanism, etc, etc, etc-- but I always go.
But, it all started on the actual night of Halloween, when I was meeting my folks for a very low-key, very Mexican, very anti-Halloween dinner. But, as I was getting in my car, it dawned on me that this is the first year that I have not heard "The Monster Mash!" Anywhere! At all! Its hard to admit, but as a lifelong Midwesterner, I felt a secret pang of guilt for my blatant ignoring of our collective favorite nod to the occult. For some reason, this year I went off-the-rails crazy Halloween-Scrooge to a level that even I have not yet reached. So maybe I did hear it and just repressed it. But I don't think so. So anyway, I get to Mi Ranchito, and then there is this bartender (who, I regret to say, knows me and everyone in my family by name) dressed like Charlie Brown who pours me a shot on the house, a "Dirty Girl Scout" (hey-oh), and after that, I was a lot more in the Halloween spirit (and couldn't stop saying "hey-oh!" for some reason). And then, at one point, I realize I'm texting everyone I know asking what they are doing tonight, and although I was recovering from a cold, some Halloween miracle stipulated that the duration of my moonlight as Nastycough McSleepsallday was over (or something to that effect).
I wanted to see some music. So, one perpetually-grouchy doorman and a $7 cover charge later, I found myself at the Covert Operations show at Papa Pete's. After nearly an hour of watery drinks and almost-crunchy jams, I found my faith in Halloween yet unrestored.
Usually, I probably would have just settled for the usual drunken stumble around the student ghetto as a vacuous legionnaire of a pathetic college alcoholiday. But, I was in the jam band spirit. You see, I had gone to:
DISCO BISCUITS AT STATE THEATRE 10/28 (did you like what I did there? Segway into a heading?)
Ok, you're right, it's one of my cardinal Blog Rules of Thumb* that I don't write about shows I see not-sober. So I'm not going to go on and on about this vibe and this mechanical flawlessness and this meticulous execution and whatever else I talk about in this strange forum I've vainly and inexplicably created.
--I digress; the show. Um-- I haven't seen a jam band since Rothbury. And that was Umphrey's McGee, just after the Dead, backlit by an amazing display of 4th of July fireworks (and accompanied by a legit, widely-reported UFO sighting**). So, I wasn't trying to compare it to that.
Regardless, it was incredible-- 2 sets and over three hours of insatiable jams, a combo of electro/trance and straight-up rock.
Although at one point, the cops-- real, live, legit COPS; lots of them-- showed up and it got... not necessarily scary but real awkward.
But anyway. Before any "hippie" accusations are made, let me just say-- I have never purchased a recording of a jam I was at to listen to later; I NEVER LISTEN TO ANY RECORDED JAM. I am live-only with jam, as I am with jazz. I think listening to recorded jam, jazz and a few couple other things is kind of like watching Jurassic Park on mute: not quite worth what's lost in translation. So I just won't do it. But I looooove, love going to a good jam show.
This was the second time I've seen Biscoes; the first time was on the very first night of Rothbury. And, believe it, they wailed. Of course, in that context, they were completely in their element; jam and festies go together like peas 'n' carrots. And though it was certainly no Rothbury-- no half-a-million hippies, no men in skirts, no $9 beers (close, though) and no filthy porta-potties either-- the psychedelic lighting scheme, grotesque statues and general craziness of K-zoo's State Theatre definitely make a great backdrop for a jam band. I had a KILLER time and so did everyone I saw who didn't get dragged out by cops. (special "good luck" shoutouts go to the guy I nicknamed Hunter S. Thompson, hotdog suit guy, and white-jacket-and-no shirt-guy; don't drop the soap.)
WOAH! Speaking of my fellow stage-rushers, GUESS WHO I RAN INTO?
ANGEL!!!!!!!!!!!
You might remember Angel from Rootstand at Bell's sometime last month! HE WAS THERE! Equal parts flamboyant, fabulous, shirtless and sweaty. Angel, if you're reading this-- you are my favorite fixture in the Kalamazoo music scene, officially. (Sorry, Rock and the Hive-- second place will have to do. Even though I lost a chunk of my left "index" toe at your last show. Oh, read on!)
HOUSE SHOW MONDAY 10/26
Ask "who parties on a Monday?" in the student ghetto and the answer will be a resounding "We do! Fuck class tomorrow-- fuck my future! Let's get wasted and watch music!"
Yeah, boi! I love this town. (Or, this part of town.)
Soooo... there I was, in a dark, extremely crowded basement, trying desperately to not think of Great White. I don't remember who the first band was, but I don't think they were good. So, anyway, the Rock and the Hive played-- awesome-- and the requisite crowd-at-a-show chaos commenced; at one point, it vaguely occurred to me that my toe hurt; after TRATH, we were heading upstairs, and I notice my foot feels sticky. I assume someone spilled beer on it-- which they may have-- but as we come into the light, I realize my left foot is completely covered in blood. I'm spare you the (literally) gory details, but a small chunk of the tip of my toe is literally gone as we speak. Sorry, Girls Whose House That Was; I'm hoping you didn't go downstairs to clean up after the show and find a floor covered in blood; that would have been unsettling.
Sorry for the gross toe story. I'm just saying. A good show is sometimes worth losing a piece of one of your appendages. I'm also saying, unless you are ABSOLUTELY SURE you are NOT going to a show later, don't wear sandals, even if it is unseasonably warm.
So... where do we go from here?
Oh!
The best part of that show! KOJI!!!
So, I walk into the house, and my friend introduces me to a soft-spoken Asian kid with glasses; fast-forward three hours later: I'm watching this kid; he is standing on a barstool in the middle of a crowd playing songs, singing his heart out. This was a good "expect the unexpected" moment in my life. I'm not entirely sure why he chose this particular way to exhibit his (amazing) musical talents, or even if it was entirely by choice (word on the street was there was some sort of gear malfunction). Because of this, I'm not really sure what form his music "usually" takes, but I would be fine if it sounded just like it sounded in that crowded living room: literally, completely organic acoustic-and-voice-only emo (hate that word!!! ugh). But, I tried to find some of his music so I could get a link to you guys and I can't find right anything now; I will let you know ASAP when I get a hold of something.
Ah. Those those were the Halloween-week festivities! It's over!!! In related news; they're starting to put up Christmas decorations at Macy's! (just kidding, but seriously, they probably are).
*1.) any recorded album gets no fewer than 5 listens before a review 2.) never review a show when you are drunk; you will take shitty notes 3.) keep it as real as possible and always maintain your swagger. 4.) no excuses, play like a champion
** this is true, documented and literally had nothing to do with psychedelics. (not sarcastic).
But let's just say I had a Halloween blast. Which is rare, and also ironic, because I HATE HALLOWEEN. That's right. I said it. But, suffice it to say, Halloween: 21; Meg: 0. I always say I'm not going to do anything for Halloween because it is just a dangerous, awkward waste of time, an appalling capitalist mechanism, etc, etc, etc-- but I always go.
But, it all started on the actual night of Halloween, when I was meeting my folks for a very low-key, very Mexican, very anti-Halloween dinner. But, as I was getting in my car, it dawned on me that this is the first year that I have not heard "The Monster Mash!" Anywhere! At all! Its hard to admit, but as a lifelong Midwesterner, I felt a secret pang of guilt for my blatant ignoring of our collective favorite nod to the occult. For some reason, this year I went off-the-rails crazy Halloween-Scrooge to a level that even I have not yet reached. So maybe I did hear it and just repressed it. But I don't think so. So anyway, I get to Mi Ranchito, and then there is this bartender (who, I regret to say, knows me and everyone in my family by name) dressed like Charlie Brown who pours me a shot on the house, a "Dirty Girl Scout" (hey-oh), and after that, I was a lot more in the Halloween spirit (and couldn't stop saying "hey-oh!" for some reason). And then, at one point, I realize I'm texting everyone I know asking what they are doing tonight, and although I was recovering from a cold, some Halloween miracle stipulated that the duration of my moonlight as Nastycough McSleepsallday was over (or something to that effect).
I wanted to see some music. So, one perpetually-grouchy doorman and a $7 cover charge later, I found myself at the Covert Operations show at Papa Pete's. After nearly an hour of watery drinks and almost-crunchy jams, I found my faith in Halloween yet unrestored.
Usually, I probably would have just settled for the usual drunken stumble around the student ghetto as a vacuous legionnaire of a pathetic college alcoholiday. But, I was in the jam band spirit. You see, I had gone to:
DISCO BISCUITS AT STATE THEATRE 10/28 (did you like what I did there? Segway into a heading?)
Ok, you're right, it's one of my cardinal Blog Rules of Thumb* that I don't write about shows I see not-sober. So I'm not going to go on and on about this vibe and this mechanical flawlessness and this meticulous execution and whatever else I talk about in this strange forum I've vainly and inexplicably created.
--I digress; the show. Um-- I haven't seen a jam band since Rothbury. And that was Umphrey's McGee, just after the Dead, backlit by an amazing display of 4th of July fireworks (and accompanied by a legit, widely-reported UFO sighting**). So, I wasn't trying to compare it to that.
Regardless, it was incredible-- 2 sets and over three hours of insatiable jams, a combo of electro/trance and straight-up rock.
Although at one point, the cops-- real, live, legit COPS; lots of them-- showed up and it got... not necessarily scary but real awkward.
But anyway. Before any "hippie" accusations are made, let me just say-- I have never purchased a recording of a jam I was at to listen to later; I NEVER LISTEN TO ANY RECORDED JAM. I am live-only with jam, as I am with jazz. I think listening to recorded jam, jazz and a few couple other things is kind of like watching Jurassic Park on mute: not quite worth what's lost in translation. So I just won't do it. But I looooove, love going to a good jam show.
This was the second time I've seen Biscoes; the first time was on the very first night of Rothbury. And, believe it, they wailed. Of course, in that context, they were completely in their element; jam and festies go together like peas 'n' carrots. And though it was certainly no Rothbury-- no half-a-million hippies, no men in skirts, no $9 beers (close, though) and no filthy porta-potties either-- the psychedelic lighting scheme, grotesque statues and general craziness of K-zoo's State Theatre definitely make a great backdrop for a jam band. I had a KILLER time and so did everyone I saw who didn't get dragged out by cops. (special "good luck" shoutouts go to the guy I nicknamed Hunter S. Thompson, hotdog suit guy, and white-jacket-and-no shirt-guy; don't drop the soap.)
WOAH! Speaking of my fellow stage-rushers, GUESS WHO I RAN INTO?
ANGEL!!!!!!!!!!!
You might remember Angel from Rootstand at Bell's sometime last month! HE WAS THERE! Equal parts flamboyant, fabulous, shirtless and sweaty. Angel, if you're reading this-- you are my favorite fixture in the Kalamazoo music scene, officially. (Sorry, Rock and the Hive-- second place will have to do. Even though I lost a chunk of my left "index" toe at your last show. Oh, read on!)
HOUSE SHOW MONDAY 10/26
Ask "who parties on a Monday?" in the student ghetto and the answer will be a resounding "We do! Fuck class tomorrow-- fuck my future! Let's get wasted and watch music!"
Yeah, boi! I love this town. (Or, this part of town.)
Soooo... there I was, in a dark, extremely crowded basement, trying desperately to not think of Great White. I don't remember who the first band was, but I don't think they were good. So, anyway, the Rock and the Hive played-- awesome-- and the requisite crowd-at-a-show chaos commenced; at one point, it vaguely occurred to me that my toe hurt; after TRATH, we were heading upstairs, and I notice my foot feels sticky. I assume someone spilled beer on it-- which they may have-- but as we come into the light, I realize my left foot is completely covered in blood. I'm spare you the (literally) gory details, but a small chunk of the tip of my toe is literally gone as we speak. Sorry, Girls Whose House That Was; I'm hoping you didn't go downstairs to clean up after the show and find a floor covered in blood; that would have been unsettling.
Sorry for the gross toe story. I'm just saying. A good show is sometimes worth losing a piece of one of your appendages. I'm also saying, unless you are ABSOLUTELY SURE you are NOT going to a show later, don't wear sandals, even if it is unseasonably warm.
So... where do we go from here?
Oh!
The best part of that show! KOJI!!!
So, I walk into the house, and my friend introduces me to a soft-spoken Asian kid with glasses; fast-forward three hours later: I'm watching this kid; he is standing on a barstool in the middle of a crowd playing songs, singing his heart out. This was a good "expect the unexpected" moment in my life. I'm not entirely sure why he chose this particular way to exhibit his (amazing) musical talents, or even if it was entirely by choice (word on the street was there was some sort of gear malfunction). Because of this, I'm not really sure what form his music "usually" takes, but I would be fine if it sounded just like it sounded in that crowded living room: literally, completely organic acoustic-and-voice-only emo (hate that word!!! ugh). But, I tried to find some of his music so I could get a link to you guys and I can't find right anything now; I will let you know ASAP when I get a hold of something.
Ah. Those those were the Halloween-week festivities! It's over!!! In related news; they're starting to put up Christmas decorations at Macy's! (just kidding, but seriously, they probably are).
*1.) any recorded album gets no fewer than 5 listens before a review 2.) never review a show when you are drunk; you will take shitty notes 3.) keep it as real as possible and always maintain your swagger. 4.) no excuses, play like a champion
** this is true, documented and literally had nothing to do with psychedelics. (not sarcastic).
Monday, October 05, 2009
Shows This Weekend
There's only one right way to kick off Rocktober: first weekend, 3 shows in 3 nights. Fall is always the best time to go to shows, and there certainly has been a lot going on lately. And I dig it.
Fri 10/2: Brand New w/ Manchester Orchestra, the Fillmore (Detroit)
I'm somewhat stoked to say, yet somewhat hesitant to admit that I might have known about this show before any of you guys: because I am on Manchester Orchestra's mailing list. Please take in everything else I am about to say about this show with that very telling fact in mind. Yes, MO is my favorite of many favorite bands. But I am trying, at least in this context, to maintain any attainable level of neutrality. Just so you know.
So... 3 hours of driving, a clandestine detour in Ann Arbor, and a $20 ramp parking fee (damn you, Fillmore, for being across the street from Comerica Park on game night) later, Manchester took the stage. Their frontman, singer/ songwriter/ guitar player/ indie caricature Andy Hull possesses this kind of Thoreauvian wildness that makes this band so ungodly addicting to see live; I could not imagine anyone else who would look as at-home as an Alaskan crabfisherman, or living in a schoolbus a la Gary Busey in Black Sheep, as he does onstage. But I guess that's neither here nor there. What matters is they fucking rocked, and always do, but-- in the immortal words of a nameless American icon-- that's all I have to say about that.
Excuse me while I pause to sweep up any remaining shreds of credibility so that I may continue. Thanks.
What I really want to talk about is Brand New's performance. I'm not quite sure how to say this, but what happened from 10:05 until about 11:20 pm EST at the Fillmore, was something that was so gut-wrenchingly, soul-crushingly, traumatically beautiful that part of me feels like it should never happen again. But that would be so wrong.
I'm trying to think of a way to tell you what it feels like to see Brand New. Actually, I've been trying for days. So imagine a rioting crowd, all flannel-covered elbows and stomping Chuck Taylors, juxtaposed against a low-lit stage, the enigmatic Jesse Lacey in the middle, gripping his Telecaster like a machine gun; projected behind it all is a surreal black-and-white slideshow-esque film. Almost too many dimensions of amazing.
I immediately felt guilty for-- yikes-- not liking their new album. But I was pleasantly surprised when they opened with "You Won't Know" and wove a cleverly anachronistic set list which I wanted to share with you now, but it didn't feel right to write it down. Needless to say, that night was just one of those nights where you fall in love with music all over again.
Music, I wish I knew how to quit you.
A.D.D. Sidenote: in between sets, I ran into Jeremiah, the drummer from Manchester!!! Ever the annoying fan, I hugged him and basically thanked him for being so awesome... my best friend and I Wayne-and-Garthified and the resulting conversation basically went something like, "Jeremiah, we're not worthy!!!" But he was unbelievably humble and nice. Amazing.
The requisite post-show 12,000-calorie Greektown visit and coma that commenced make that night's memories a little foggy, but needless to say... that show... Wow. Ridiculous.
Hopefully by the time I'm a real writer I'll think of better ways to say things than that.
Sat 10/3: Rootstand at Bell's (Kalamazoo)
The story of Saturday night is more of a... story... than just a show. I'll explain.
One of my housemates is a banjo player (legit!) and has been in a few bluegrass bands around Kalamazoo, so, luckily, when the occasion arises, I often have an excuse to go to bluegrass shows. I have to admit the bluegrass culture in Kalamazoo was something I was not very familiar until this summer, especially with the college crowd, but I am pleased to have found reassurance that there will be hippies-- and resulting mountain-bluegrass jam seshes-- in every generation. And, after all, it's about the music and not the scene, right? So it's ok to sometimes succumb to one's various hippie persuasions.
Before you laugh, if you have never experienced a legit bluegrass SHOW-- let alone a festival-- there is nothing quite like being out there two-stepping with the hippies. It's amazing. Bluegrass is a lot like ska in that if you're there, you're a (bluegrass/ ska)-PERSON: you're a fan, you know the music, you (two-step/ skank), you're starting a band next week, that's your thing. So don't judge yourself if you want to grab a frosty microbrew and load up the Forester to go to the festie and rage some kind nugs. It's ok. You've always wanted to, right? And that's what bluegrass is about. It just feels good.
So, Saturday night. I'm sitting at my apartment reading and another housemate knocks on my door, hammered, and asks if I'm going to Bells tonight. I was vaguely confused, but game (such is my life). What commenced was an interesting night with a lot of interesting details that might not be appropriate to publish here.
Oh shit, I promised you a story. Well, Drunk Neighbor got kicked out of Bell's, and since I never leave a homie hangin', I took him back home. But I went back. Cause Rootstand had another set.
The tunes were AMAZING... With that traditional Southern bluegrass stomp and Rootstand's adorable weirdness (like "Disc Golf Life": you can download here [http://www.rootstand.com/index.php?ppge=music]), you'll be out there throwing your 'bows up and steppin' in no time. At the very least, you are almost guaranteed to make friends-- among mine that night were an old Deadhead named Angel (yes, a guy) and a Chicagoan (?) college-hippie who was on a Great Lakes brewery tour with his buddies. Awesome.
Suffice it to say, I would highly, highly recommend getting out to see Rootstand--or any bluegrass show-- if you get a chance. Even if you think it's not your thing. You never know, brah!
Sun 10/4: Lake Louise at the Factory (Rochester)
While I, admittedly, completely abandoned any neutrality/ cred and geeked out over my favorite band in a medium that I would like to be somewhat professional, I simply cannot discuss this show from any critical standpoint, as Lake Louise is a stagename for a very good friend of mine. However, I must give credit where credit is due: many, many props to Lake Louise for holding her own as a (1.) female (2.) solo (3.) FOLK act. Indulge me for a brief moment while I comment on the refreshing ingenuity of those virtues in and of themselves. The resulting music possesses everything good about 60s protest-folk with a Fiona Apple-esque femininity, and a little reluctant country-ness. You may check her out at [http://www.myspace.com/angelacarlton].
Needless to say, anoher good night. And you're probably not in the mood for another story, but moments ago, I nutshelled it to a friend as, "I met an old guy from New Zealand, an old guy from England, and a roadie for Miley Cyrus at an Irish pub in Detroit." And that's how that night went.
So those were the shows this weekend. PS: pretty sure I'm going deaf.
Please stay updated for WIDR's BARKING TUNA FESTIVAL coverage this weekend! I will be at all three shows, so until then, check out what's going on on WIDR and their site [http://www.widr.org/].
-thejunkie
Fri 10/2: Brand New w/ Manchester Orchestra, the Fillmore (Detroit)
I'm somewhat stoked to say, yet somewhat hesitant to admit that I might have known about this show before any of you guys: because I am on Manchester Orchestra's mailing list. Please take in everything else I am about to say about this show with that very telling fact in mind. Yes, MO is my favorite of many favorite bands. But I am trying, at least in this context, to maintain any attainable level of neutrality. Just so you know.
So... 3 hours of driving, a clandestine detour in Ann Arbor, and a $20 ramp parking fee (damn you, Fillmore, for being across the street from Comerica Park on game night) later, Manchester took the stage. Their frontman, singer/ songwriter/ guitar player/ indie caricature Andy Hull possesses this kind of Thoreauvian wildness that makes this band so ungodly addicting to see live; I could not imagine anyone else who would look as at-home as an Alaskan crabfisherman, or living in a schoolbus a la Gary Busey in Black Sheep, as he does onstage. But I guess that's neither here nor there. What matters is they fucking rocked, and always do, but-- in the immortal words of a nameless American icon-- that's all I have to say about that.
Excuse me while I pause to sweep up any remaining shreds of credibility so that I may continue. Thanks.
What I really want to talk about is Brand New's performance. I'm not quite sure how to say this, but what happened from 10:05 until about 11:20 pm EST at the Fillmore, was something that was so gut-wrenchingly, soul-crushingly, traumatically beautiful that part of me feels like it should never happen again. But that would be so wrong.
I'm trying to think of a way to tell you what it feels like to see Brand New. Actually, I've been trying for days. So imagine a rioting crowd, all flannel-covered elbows and stomping Chuck Taylors, juxtaposed against a low-lit stage, the enigmatic Jesse Lacey in the middle, gripping his Telecaster like a machine gun; projected behind it all is a surreal black-and-white slideshow-esque film. Almost too many dimensions of amazing.
I immediately felt guilty for-- yikes-- not liking their new album. But I was pleasantly surprised when they opened with "You Won't Know" and wove a cleverly anachronistic set list which I wanted to share with you now, but it didn't feel right to write it down. Needless to say, that night was just one of those nights where you fall in love with music all over again.
Music, I wish I knew how to quit you.
A.D.D. Sidenote: in between sets, I ran into Jeremiah, the drummer from Manchester!!! Ever the annoying fan, I hugged him and basically thanked him for being so awesome... my best friend and I Wayne-and-Garthified and the resulting conversation basically went something like, "Jeremiah, we're not worthy!!!" But he was unbelievably humble and nice. Amazing.
The requisite post-show 12,000-calorie Greektown visit and coma that commenced make that night's memories a little foggy, but needless to say... that show... Wow. Ridiculous.
Hopefully by the time I'm a real writer I'll think of better ways to say things than that.
Sat 10/3: Rootstand at Bell's (Kalamazoo)
The story of Saturday night is more of a... story... than just a show. I'll explain.
One of my housemates is a banjo player (legit!) and has been in a few bluegrass bands around Kalamazoo, so, luckily, when the occasion arises, I often have an excuse to go to bluegrass shows. I have to admit the bluegrass culture in Kalamazoo was something I was not very familiar until this summer, especially with the college crowd, but I am pleased to have found reassurance that there will be hippies-- and resulting mountain-bluegrass jam seshes-- in every generation. And, after all, it's about the music and not the scene, right? So it's ok to sometimes succumb to one's various hippie persuasions.
Before you laugh, if you have never experienced a legit bluegrass SHOW-- let alone a festival-- there is nothing quite like being out there two-stepping with the hippies. It's amazing. Bluegrass is a lot like ska in that if you're there, you're a (bluegrass/ ska)-PERSON: you're a fan, you know the music, you (two-step/ skank), you're starting a band next week, that's your thing. So don't judge yourself if you want to grab a frosty microbrew and load up the Forester to go to the festie and rage some kind nugs. It's ok. You've always wanted to, right? And that's what bluegrass is about. It just feels good.
So, Saturday night. I'm sitting at my apartment reading and another housemate knocks on my door, hammered, and asks if I'm going to Bells tonight. I was vaguely confused, but game (such is my life). What commenced was an interesting night with a lot of interesting details that might not be appropriate to publish here.
Oh shit, I promised you a story. Well, Drunk Neighbor got kicked out of Bell's, and since I never leave a homie hangin', I took him back home. But I went back. Cause Rootstand had another set.
The tunes were AMAZING... With that traditional Southern bluegrass stomp and Rootstand's adorable weirdness (like "Disc Golf Life": you can download here [http://www.rootstand.com/index.php?ppge=music]), you'll be out there throwing your 'bows up and steppin' in no time. At the very least, you are almost guaranteed to make friends-- among mine that night were an old Deadhead named Angel (yes, a guy) and a Chicagoan (?) college-hippie who was on a Great Lakes brewery tour with his buddies. Awesome.
Suffice it to say, I would highly, highly recommend getting out to see Rootstand--or any bluegrass show-- if you get a chance. Even if you think it's not your thing. You never know, brah!
Sun 10/4: Lake Louise at the Factory (Rochester)
While I, admittedly, completely abandoned any neutrality/ cred and geeked out over my favorite band in a medium that I would like to be somewhat professional, I simply cannot discuss this show from any critical standpoint, as Lake Louise is a stagename for a very good friend of mine. However, I must give credit where credit is due: many, many props to Lake Louise for holding her own as a (1.) female (2.) solo (3.) FOLK act. Indulge me for a brief moment while I comment on the refreshing ingenuity of those virtues in and of themselves. The resulting music possesses everything good about 60s protest-folk with a Fiona Apple-esque femininity, and a little reluctant country-ness. You may check her out at [http://www.myspace.com/angelacarlton].
Needless to say, anoher good night. And you're probably not in the mood for another story, but moments ago, I nutshelled it to a friend as, "I met an old guy from New Zealand, an old guy from England, and a roadie for Miley Cyrus at an Irish pub in Detroit." And that's how that night went.
So those were the shows this weekend. PS: pretty sure I'm going deaf.
Please stay updated for WIDR's BARKING TUNA FESTIVAL coverage this weekend! I will be at all three shows, so until then, check out what's going on on WIDR and their site [http://www.widr.org/].
-thejunkie
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