Geographer – Kites
A joint like Barrel House commands a certain respect from a journalist, or in my case, someone faking to be a journalist. Something about the term “citizen journalist” feels to me to fit in a line of euphemisms not far behind “friendly fire” and “collateral damage,” but all military and political ho-hum aside… As a venue, Barrel House ought to draw some speak-easy comparisons – discreet location, vigilant doorman, bizarre alcohol situation. Saying anything about it in writing probably has me now on the blacklist, but since I was never on the A-list, I suppose I’ll just keep ducking my way in all the same. The point of all this being, the ad-agency-gone-underground-music-venue hosted San Francisco’s latest indie electro-pop darlings, Geographer, on Friday night.
Geographer 
released Animal Shapes on Tricycle Records, a 6 song EP full of orchestral influenced dance-pop numbers. If that classicifaction has you scratching your head, let me also say, the album prominently features digital drum loops, catchy synth hooks, and cello backing from cover to cover. Michael Deni’s vocals command the same effortless slips into floating falsettos as the likes of James Mercer, though less nasally; rich and smooth. It helps that his stage presence includes a mastery of multi-tasking, pivoting between finger digital drums, guitar, 
keyboard, vocals and controlling and altering loops, all in a single song. Not impressed? He’s joined by a high quality drummer and one of indie rocks only electric cellists that comes to mind (a fine one at that). They’re an original sound that’s garnered such attention as Spin Magazine ranked them amongst only two others as ‘Undiscovered Bands You Need To Hear Now’ in October of 2008. Well, they’re discovered now and have been playing the piss out of the San Francisco concert circuit. I’d tell you to check them out at the Independent on 2.23.11, one of the Noise Pop 2011 shows, but it’s already sold out. But that’s good news for Deni and crew. Keep an eye out, they have been making the SF venue rounds.
- Matthew Hunt
Oona http://www.myspace.com/oonamusic
Thanks to a slew of support from Future Sounds, The Owl Mag, Noise Pop, BAGeL Radio, and SonicLiving, Milk recently hosted a free monthly Rumble featuring the growingly recognized Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. The night kicked off with a unique performance by Oona, Oakland’s own magnetic front girl. Oona brings a mix of soul, rock, R&B and stage presence that, as for contemporaries, can really only be likened to Bad Boy’s recent megastar Janelle Monae. Oona brandished singular vocal capabilities, which can were backed by a shiningly polished band. The set was best summed later by Taxes front-man Robby Cronholm who said, “How about Oona, huh? I want what she’s having! What a performer.”
Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. Vocal Chords
Headliner, Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. arrived in their emblematic Nascar uniforms, touting Detroit pride and the most American flags SF has seen since election year. What followed was a set of rich vocal harmonies and pure pop energy. The trio was a cheerful bunch, expressing that this being their first tour, they are still managing to not hate each other. Given their spirit and knack for complex pop harmonies, their cover of the Beach Boys’ “God Only Knows” seemed to fit well into a set of originals. They’ll be spraying champagne from the winner’s podium by the time their LP debuts later this year/early next.
Taxes http://www.myspace.com/taxesband
Lastly, San Francisco locals Taxes rounded out the oddly mixed bill. Though Cronholm began their set stating “its be a rough week,” implying some personal challenges, they certainly weren’t showing any signs of down-trodden attitude in their enthused performance. Emotional lyrics met hard rocking bridges and the occaisional scream, equating to something like an angsty Ben Gibbard. Though their music isn’t all that aligned with this publication’s direction, I have to esteem these guys as a rehearsed act who are plenty impressive for their genre.
– matthew hunt
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!
Tartufi Dot-Dash
Still Flyin’ Run Away Train II
AB & The Sea Bone Dry
Social Studies Time Bandit
John Vanderslice D.I.A.L.O.
Leopold & His Fiction Golden Friends
Tartufi
Still Flyin’
AB & The Sea
Social Studies
John Vanderslice
Leopold & His Fiction
- matthew hunt
Sleep Forever
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.
- matthew hunt
As far as I’m concerned, epicsauce.com has single-handedly put Milk Bar back on the music map in San Francisco. We recently caught a show that strongly buttressed that opinion, and we here at thebloodbeat take our strong buttressing seriously.
http://www.myspace.com/whirlband
You know what kind of evening you’re in for when the venue is handing out earplugs (a generous service) in anticipation of the noise to come. From the looks of it, Whirl had about as much amplifier power as any band has ever graced the stage at the Haight-based venue. The band came out to a lengthy sample track, as they prepped their instruments for the squealing feedback and heavy shoe-gaze to come. The sextet unrolled a deep and dreamy set, with deep My Bloody Valentine influence in both the style and volume. It was a questionable coincidence that the house played Loveless when the set was through.
http://www.myspace.com/terrymalts
After a brief interlude to let everyone’s ears drums return to normal size, Terry Malts took the stage with upbeat, Ramones-channeled melodies. When you’re lead singer sports a denim coat, a flat brimmed old San Jose Sharks hat, and a Rickenbacker bass, and your lead guitarist looks like Buddy Holly, retro is going to be a chunk of your repertoire. But Terry Malts pulls it off with a modern fuzz, beneath dribbling semi-hollow guitar parts. The culmination of the enthused set was toward the end of “I’m Neurotic,” the set favorite for me by far, when a certain fan got on another’s shoulders and spit PBR at the remainder of the crowd. What’s bubble gum punk rock without a little beer shower? All’s well in the universe.
Ty Segall – Girlfriend
Ty Segall is a bit of a mythological punk star in San Francisco. This being my first exposure to his music, it was easy to understand why. Ty played a solo act this night with a mic, a guitar, a bass drum and a high-hat. The energy teeming out this kid is unrivaled. His topped out, tremble vocals are the keystone to his snotty, ruckus attitude. Supported by a crisp, yet surprisingly heavy guitar, he howls out punk rock-meets-60s pop with a Kink’s flair and Cobain progressions. Sounds like a nice mix? It is! It was a loose rumpus, his long sun-damaged blond hair hanging beside an unsettling Here’s-Johnny grin. At one point he dragged somebody from the audience on stage to sing an impromptu song, and later remarked, “It’s pretty crazy. I used to walk by this place all the time and never played here…” His confusion was genuine, as if disoriented by the full body performance.
Weekend – End Times 
The evening closed with BB favorite’s, Weekend, who we recently had the chance to sit down with. The shoe-gaze punk rockers came out with an extra-terrestrial set at high speeds. While still at a considerable energy level, they offered an ethereal paradigm to the evening. But don’t be fooled, while the fiercely hissing feedback and reverb added a textual element, the crowd erupted into somewhat of a mash pit (the first predominately female one I’ve seen). Without a doubt one of the must-see rock acts playing San Francisco right now. We look forward to their forthcoming album on Slumberland in the next few months.
- matthew hunt, all photos by lorna pacheco
I recently packed into the Rickshaw stop, and made my way to my favorite spot underneath the A/C vent to catch part of San Francisco’s Popfest 2010. The show began with Knight School, a young duo from NYC, composed by Kevin Alvir and Chris Balla. While I caught most of their act trying to sort out my entry, what I heard was melodic, gauzy folk pop underscored with a bittersweet youthfulness. The band has also opened for the likes of The Pains of Being Pure at Heart and Let’s Wrestle, and are worth keeping an eye on.
Pizza My Coat
Next was Eux Autres (“ooz-oh-tra”), translated as Them Others. The San Francisco based Frenchies play with bubbly, pop sensibility, full of vocalisms like “bop bada bop” and “shalala.” Founded by brother-sister duo, Nicholas and Heather Larimer, the two split on vocal duties while Yoshi Nakamoto (formerly of Aislers Set, and concurrently of Still Flyin’) keeps the rhythm section together. Donning a bright red dress while the supporting band wore dully colored button downs, Heather was a clear focal point with her articulate vocals and twisting feet. My initial reaction was that there was a clear influence of 60’s pop melodies, which is going around these days. But upon further listen, I found their sound to have a lot more apathy, like Yo La Tengo or some neglected 90s rock band. The band cites The Vaselines and Super Furry Animals as influences, so I think that checks out.
Other Girls (live)
Having recently interviewed Social Studies and listened to their forth-coming LP, Wind Up Wooden Heart, I was quite interested to catch the group for the live interpretation of the record. In the midst of a west coast tour, the band sounded polished and lively. The live performance was bigger and more ruckus sounding than their recordings. The San Francisco based group set this tone with a grand overture type intro. I thought this extra volume and looseness gave the songs an added shot in the arm, much to the audience’s delight. They debuted a new song, and played a number of the stronger numbers from the upcoming record, including “Time Bandit,” which sounded exceptionally dancey. Well received by their hometown, they said it was good to be back, were in fine spirits and looking forward to sharing the new record in July.
Time Bandit
Closing out the set was the mythological singer/ukelele player, Merrill Garbus, better known as tUnE-yArDs. The Oakland-based prolific songwriter came out in her typical dressing of face paint, short blonde bangs and a mouthful of attitude. She was backed by what I counted to be an 8 person band, complete with back up singers, saxophone and a marching drum, all of which built on a strong African influence. Her 2009 record, Bird-Brains, was entirely self-recorded with a digital voice recorder, featuring a lot of vocal loops. These loops were recreated live, often layering to 3-4 different parts and deconstructing them. The closing song, and arguably the strongest of the night, was “Sunlight,” but there were plenty of favorites from Bird Brains to mull over. While the live loops, impressive vocal range, and complex arrangements with the huge band all competed for the most capturing aspect of the performance, I think what took my most were Merrill’s facial expressions and curdling notes. For a petite, young, blonde girl from Vermont playing African influenced ukulele songs, she strikes sheer terror into the audience with lowered brows, upturned lips, distorted notes. Stack that on top of lyrics that burn your ears: “Why’d you think I’d put out your fire?/Don’t you know I breathe in fire?/Breathe out fire?” It’s as if she gives voice to some forgotten or unsung rebel protest.
Sunlight
- matthew hunt, photo by lorna pacheco
Ganglians
Lost Words
Friday night at Bottom of the Hill was a Fender tube amp convention, opening with Ganglians (Woodsist) from Sacramento. As fine representatives of the California psychedelic lo-fi gaining traction these days, the lyrics were indecipherable, the toms on the drum kit got a lot of attention, a Fender Jazzmaster was part of the arrangement, and reverb was set to 10. The reverb was so high that at one point lead singer, Ryan Grubbs, asked the sound board for more and couldn’t help but laugh to himself. Grubbs gave some torturous synth solos, often tapping the delay pedal sitting atop the keys stand with his hand and then banging at the board limply and haphazardly. The performance was loosely styled, which the long hair, saggy jeans, grizzly beards, and damaged guitars easily gave away. The quartet was a bright entry to the show, melodic and twisted in their own way, like an out of focus and twisted Beach Boys with the occasional heavy hitting breakdown.
Turbo Fruits
On The Road
Enter Turbo Fruits (Fat Possum Records). Reverb and bizarre: down. Volume, pace, and mustache: way up. The Nashville trio came in hard, chugging through tight rock songs like Black Sabbath. Everything about the band was louder and edgier. In fact, lead singer, Jonas Stein (formerly of Be Your Own Pet), mentioned that one of their microphones was stolen at their concert in Oakland the prior the night, mid set. Now that’s edgy! Stein gave his Danelectro some screaming solos, the bass lead straight ahead, and the drumming was explosive. There were elements of straight punk rock in the music, channeling Ramones-like melodies. But the sound was distinctly heavier. One you might hear from a band like Fu Manchu. By the end of the set, after Stein had jumped into the crowd for one last solo and subsequently headlong into the drum set to hit his last chord, he was tomato red, having expending the last of his energy. While drummer, Matt Hearn, didn’t seem too pleased with this result, the crowd clearly enjoyed their full throttle performance.
Surfer Blood
Swim
The headliner, Surfer Blood (Kanine Records), provided another dramatic change in facial hair. The young and predominantly baby faced boys from West Palm Beach, Florida, made their way onto the stage in hooded sweatshirts for the cool SF evening. While they weren’t the strangest or most theatrical, the quintet played what couldn’t be denied as the catchiest, most memorable melodies of the night. The performance was largely true to the album, though a little grittier and spitting at moments. The most noticeable distinction from the album was lead guitarist Tom Fekete, breaking his timid presence to unleash some Ira Kaplan-influenced guitar solos, which ranged from teeth picking, drum stick sliding to an array of pedal effects, thrashing around throughout. The display nearly sent his microphone launching into the crowd, which kept the remainder of the performance interesting for everybody front stage. The band encored with a new song, “I’m Not Ready,” which was cooler and more reflective than their spirited debut tracks. A promising future to close a fine night at Bottom of the Hill.
- matthew hunt; all photos by lorna pacheco
Saturday at club Mezzanine kicked off with My First Earthquake, while lead singer Rebecca Bortman bounced happily about the stage, belting out some funny lyrics. Sugar and Gold, a polished synth-pop band reminiscent of 80’s OMD, shook their tail feathers. San Francisco’s Maus Haus were a fan favorite, their analog electronics, omni chords, horns, and drums delivering hypnotic sounds akin to Can and the Silver Apples. !!! (Chk-Chk-Chk), always a high energetic performance with their funky, dance oriented rock, put the crowd in a riotous state, while they led the charge in a gyrating, sweaty frenzy.
- lorna pacheco
Blood Beat proudly reports its first show coverage from the Noise Pop Festival in San Francisco at an indie rock blockbuster line-up at Cafe du Nord featuring Harlem, Best Coast, the Sandwitches, and the Young Prisms.
The Young Prisms opened the show with a brief but capturing and youthful set, showing signs of a highly promising band despite only a year of history. The Sandwitches kicked the dirt off their spurs and howled out a mix of dark and bluesy folk tunes. Best Coast lived up to their rapidly growing and deserved attention despite some van trouble. And the night closed with an onslaught of stage banter, crowd insults and down right dirty punk style from Harlem.
- matthew hunt; photos by lorna pacheco
released Animal Shapes on Tricycle Records, a 6 song EP full of orchestral influenced dance-pop numbers. If that classicifaction has you scratching your head, let me also say, the album prominently features digital drum loops, catchy synth hooks, and cello backing from cover to cover. Michael Deni’s vocals command the same effortless slips into floating falsettos as the likes of James Mercer, though less nasally; rich and smooth. It helps that his stage presence includes a mastery of multi-tasking, pivoting between finger digital drums, guitar, 
keyboard, vocals and controlling and altering loops, all in a single song. Not impressed? He’s joined by a high quality drummer and one of indie rocks only electric cellists that comes to mind (a fine one at that). They’re an original sound that’s garnered such attention as Spin Magazine ranked them amongst only two others as ‘Undiscovered Bands You Need To Hear Now’ in October of 2008. Well, they’re discovered now and have been playing the piss out of the San Francisco concert circuit. I’d tell you to check them out at the Independent on 2.23.11, one of the Noise Pop 2011 shows, but it’s already sold out. But that’s good news for Deni and crew. Keep an eye out, they have been making the SF venue rounds.
