Our fellow local music enthusiasts, The Bay Bridged, recently put on an exceptional (not to mention free) outdoor music and arts festival with additional support by SF music sensation, Tartufi, and local designers, Cookie & the Dude. Despite a near bouncy-house melt-down (get me out dad! get me out!), the event was family-oriented, featured San Francisco’s finest artisan vendors, and answered all of our long-awaited sun prayers to the soundtrack of some great local music.
While the acts were varied, all of their sets felt cheerfully suited for the unusually hot summer day. Tartufi put on a clinic on how to effortlessly build complex and effect-laden loops; Still Flyin’ got the crowd feeling higher than the dreaded dancer whom the band confused for a howling dog; AB & The Sea layered rich vocal harmonies over their upbeat pop; Social Studies gave an edgier yet thoughtful turn to the day; the crowd was blessed with an impromptu, intimate acoustic performance by local legend John Vanderslice; and the day closed out with a no-holds-barred dirty rock-out session by Leopold & His Fiction.
See and hear what brought over 5,000 peeps out for a lazy Sunday of rock. And they’re all Bay Area local, so catch them out soon!
There aren’t a lot of venues in San Francisco that you typically can’t wear tennis shoes to. But the gritty, city feel of Crocodiles’ music makes 330 Ritch seem like appropriate host. (For the record, I squeezed by in sandals.) The music sounds distinctly British electro-pop punk, and the tight jeans, leather jackets, and devil-may-care attitude all point to similar geography. But the rebellious vibes are surprisingly Californian. The San Diego outfit is currently making their way around the west coast, before a few east bound tours and a longer stay in Britain (after all).
The band started late in the evening and a played fairly brief set, but they packed the 50 minutes in. They played all of the favorites, “Sleep Forever,” “I Wanna Kill,” and “Neon Jesus,” all fine soundtracks for stiff-upper lip head bobbing. Singer, Brandon Welchez gyrated in front of the mic, occasionally removing it to whip it throughout the air and stumble sharply about the stage. The rest of Crocodiles crew were in similar swing, with hair flying and cymbals swaying. The climax of the show arrived when Brandon sauntered leisurely into the pit of the crowd. He went face to face with a certain fan, who grabbed Brandon by the upper edges of his jacket, pushing him back to the stage. The two wrestled each other to the ground, Brandon all the while not missing a note of the melody. When the fan finally rose from the oddly controlled scuffle, it became apparent that the two might have previous acquaitence, as the fan celebrated on stage and Brandon remained on the ground singing horizontally into the microphone dangling over his face. But then again, maybe not. Maybe this exactly the type of spontaneity this punk attitude invites.
Mark Lanegan, one time Screaming Trees and Queens of the Stone age member, collaborates on this surprisingly strong release with Isobel Campbell, of Belle & Sebastian fame, titled Howl. While these two seasoned veterans originate from different ends of the rock spectrum, three albums in their unlikely union yields some of its most positive results.
The album tip-toes in with a mournful duet, “We Die and See Beauty Reign,” Lanegan quietly rumbling like an unnoticed earthquake while Campbell whispers airily beside him. The piece leads as a statement of the poetic weight of the album. It’s gentle but stormy like low rolling thunder, as you might describe most of Lanegan’s career. Hell, look at the album cover of The Gutter Twins! But with Campbell, Lanegan seems like he might actually be having some fun (can’t blame him), as “You Won’t Let Me Down Again” comes saddle-blazin’ in the opener’s wake, more representative of the wide open country feel of the album. Lanegan takes coarse command while Campbell supports like a lingering but still very present ghost.
While the duo’s juxtaposition remains consistent, the space they cover spans considerable ground. Though plenty bluesy, “Come Undone” is the type of waltz you’d expect from an R&B revivalist like Alicia Keys, though many many octaves away. “Hawk” plays like the soundtrack to the bar fight in Roadhouse, fresh with slide guitar and honking sax solos, though no Swayze to break it up… In one of the most chilling and attention grabbing songs of the album “Sunrise,” Isobel takes a dimly lit spotlight over a quivering guitar on what can be described as nothing less than phantasmal. Later, Lanegan hits achieves contrastingly supernatural low notes on the gospel number and album closer, “Lately” with choir support.
The variation aside, the album’s best moments and more common refrains remain its folk songs. And like the best folk lyrics, at times the album unveils worldly truths with quick turns like, “Time is a fast old train/she’s here and she’s gone and she won’t come again/so won’t you take my hand?” Occasionally they do fall short in over-simplicity, such as on Snake Song, “You can touch me/if you want to/I got poison/I just might bite you.” But that might be swept beneath the acoustic blues riff, clanging banjo and the foot-stomping for many. Elsewhere lyrics discuss love, rivers, and more trains. The good stuff.
Hawk doesn’t bring any radical ideas to the table, but then again, folk and bluesy alt-country don’t exactly have a knack for progression. Anachronistic and transporting would be better words, and Hawk achieves just those. Parallels to Robert Plant’s recent collaboration with Alison Krauss are probably appropriate, especially given Hawk’s residence in a common genre. Though given both Lanegan’s and Campbell’s quiet demeanor (and lower-profile), Hawk is the tale that will likely be less told and deserves a closer listen.
The Portland-based trio Menomena returns valiantly with their fourth full length album, Mines. Since the 2007 release of Friend and Foe the band has toured with the masters of tension, Bloc Party, and are currently headlining with BB favorites, Suckers. Earlier this year Brent Knopf’s side-project, Ramona Falls, toured with America’s favorite wine guzzlers, The National. Their journey to recognition has been pretty bizarre, but then again, so is their music really. Beneath the face of their unique tunes ticks a robot in music’s clothing. The band developed proprietary software years ago to help them make some sense of licks and riffs they were practicing on, which has become a unique part of their composition process. The Terminator of music?! Maybe. Evil Bee doesn’t make it seem like very good cover. But if they are, then its with great irony that Mines gives us a more sincere look into the lives of the writers behind the music.
Lyrically, Mines seems to be a balance of self assurance and self doubt. You get a tasting of their sensitivity on the opening track with the confession, “You’re five foot five not a 100 pounds/I’m scared to death of every single ounce.” But this is countered immediately by the fist-pumping “TAOS” which does some chest-beating for the band, “I’m not the most cocksure guy/but I get more bold with every smile.” Despite a number of raucous rock tracks and silly misspelled track titles, Mines plays as the band’s most personal work. Soul-bearing lines pop up more commonplace, “Go home I’d like to, stumble to bed and lay beside you/until we’re even or romantically bored, whichever comes first.”
Notably, Mines exhibits the band’s best vocal performance to date. The gentler ballads provide a clean insight into the vocal prowess of the whole band, who split duties on vocals. “Oh Pretty Boy You’re Such A Big Boy” achieves the highest note I’ve heard out of Justin Harris (3:35- dammmmn), after a whole song of highly controlled, lower octaves. Blind-siding and sky-splitting. The accents on the harmonies from the whole band are tastefully inserted throughout the whole album. The grittiness of the chorus on “TAOS” seems better suited for Mick Jagger. And the post-production on the whole shebang spreads an extra laminate of smoothness.
Perhaps most importantly, Menomena has built a reputation as a highly dynamic band with unpredictability from track to track, and Mines is no exception. Track’s like “BOTE” compete with previous releases “Pelican” and “The Monkey’s Back” for heaviest track from the band, with screeching guitars and blaring baritone sax on the breakdown. “Five Little Rooms” paints an apocalyptic scene with piercing intensity and sorrowful acceptance at once. There’s a fair share of storms hovering over the album. But not withstanding a few tear-jerkers, such like “INTIL.” They’re able to cover a wide ground without losing cohesiveness between these tracks. Maybe its the band’s finely crafted build ups, which lift through both the softer and harder tunes? Or maybe that’s just what Skynet wants you to think…
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