Crib Notes

(photo by Todd Cole)

Joanna Newsom’s concert with the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra last Saturday, Nov. 17, felt slightly anti-climatic. Not that it wasn’t brilliant, mind you. It took place more than a year after the rapturous acclaim that greeted her second album, Ys. (You can read my review of Ys here.) Its release and the near-universal appreciation that immediately followed it was so memorable that it seemed not only a response to a masterpiece, but a moment in time, a swell of hype unto itself.

Newsom’s accompaniment was a drummer, guitarist and backing vocalist — members of the Ys Street Band, I assumed — and the ASO. The ASO organizes a few pop concerts a year, but this concert seemed to make more sense than its other collaborations. (Admittedly, I had never seen the ASO before.) Instead of playing Benny Goodman to Queen Latifah, it lent texture and sweep to Newsom’s long story-songs about growing up in rural California and fictive explorations of 19th century America. Her rapturous harp playing and the ASO’s interpolations made for a wonderful combination.

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After a warm-up date in nearby Columbus, R. Kelly kicked off the first date of his national tour at Philips Arena last night. An anonymous singer performed the national anthem, and then R. Kelly was led through the crowd, like a prize-winning boxer, to a stage that was temporarily set up as a boxing ring. “The champ is here!” screamed a voice over the loudspeakers as all the girls in the audience squealed.

R. Kelly performed most of his radio hits, remixes and guest spots for other artists, from Jay-Z’s “Fiesta” to Bow Wow’s “I’m a Flirt.” But what the ladies wanted to hear were the baby-making songs. He got the biggest response for “Your Body’s Calling” from his classic second album 12 Play, and you could hear the nearly sell-out audience singing along to every word. Then he flipped it, and began riffing angrily, “After all of these years, these motherfuckers still calling on me,” apparently alluding to his ongoing court case for allegedly having sex with underage girls. Then he twisted that line, too, and sang sweetly, “Don’t it feel good, yeah, when motherfuckers still calling on you,” referring to the way his fans still support him regardless of those legal problems.

At one point, Kells announced, “I’m going to sing a song … it’s something I just wrote two weeks ago before I went out on tour.” He dedicated it to all the big-booty girls in the audience. “I’ll do something for the small-booty girls next time.” He proceeded to sing this ridiculously pompous number about a woman’s gluteus maximus. “All right, I’ll stop playing with them,” he said, and went into “Feelin’ On You Booty.”

Needless to say, R. Kelly is something of a freak, but he’s also a great performer, and his two-hour show entertainingly switched moods throughout, from overtly sexual to jokey and familial. There were still a lot of dumbasses who bolted after the first hour and a half — probably so they could get to the “official afterparty” (at Compound, Opera, E.S.S.O. or some other lame superclub). But that said much more about his fans than it did about him.

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MMMBOY: Hanson post-puberty

(photo by Vonnie Lee)

I have no problem admitting it: I love Hanson.

I’m not sure if it was the long hair, or the cheesy, catchy lyrics, but 10 years ago, when Middle of Nowhere hit stores and made the No. 1 slot on MTV’s original version of “TRL,” I fell head over heels for the family boy band, plastering my bedroom with posters of Isaac, Taylor and Zac. I have since lost my copy of the album (the liner notes were cut up to make collages), but I never fully got over my first band crush.

Which is why I was unabashedly excited to find out Hanson was playing in Atlanta last week.

Hundreds of girls and a few reluctant boys crowded into the Roxy last Tuesday night for Hanson’s concert, a stop on The Walk Tour, promoting their latest album of the same name. The crowd, which ranged in age from a whopping 20 to 24, felt like a middle school reunion, all of us having had the same phenomenal Hanson experience. The room smelled strongly of incense wafting from the overcrowded bathrooms to the main floor. If I closed my eyes long enough, I was sure I had never left my poster-filled room.

“We’re going to take you back a few years,” said Isaac Hanson, the oldest of the brothers, receiving a round of ear-curdling shrieks. “Back to 1997 when we first met you.” (more…)

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Good punk rock is hard to come by these days. Sure, there is no shortage of sloppy twentysomethings decked out in ankle-tight jeans and studded belts, going through the motions of three chords and a rage of ramped-up emotions. But in the year 2007, the uniform and the sound are as predictable as reggae music. This is precisely what made Jay Reatard’s show at Lenny’s on Mon., Oct. 15, rise so far above the trappings of pedestrian punk showmanship. The secret: good songwriting and a no-bullshit stage presence that’s followed through by the sheer force of a freight train.

Jay covers all of the bases with his approach, and the element of surprise is not to be underestimated. The sound guy barely had time to fade the house music out before Reatard and his freshly assembled crew of hirsute players flipped the switch and became locked in the throes of cathartic, head-banging fury.

The show started seemingly without warning. One minute the band was lounging on stage, making sure everything was where it was supposed to be, plugged in and working properly. The next minute, puffy Caucasian Afros were shaking violently.

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On Oct. 9, the Black Lips performed on Conan O’Brien’s late-night talk show and absolutely killed it. The quartet was at its absolute best — guitar solos, hoarse screams, the works — ripping through “O, Katrina!” from its recent Good Bad Not Evil album. They even pulled off a cool Beatle-esque bow at the end.

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CAT POWER

(all photos by Jeff Hahne)

My first reaction to the Echo Project, held this past weekend on 350 acres of farmland south of the city, was one of wonder. Of course, it was beautiful land, but I marveled at the vastness of the concert area on Friday. I had imagined something substantial, but much more low-key than the final arrangement — five stages spread liberally across a vast field with pockets of glass pipe vendors and food trailers spread throughout. It probably wasn’t the size of the venue that struck me, but that there weren’t a lot of people. Official ticket numbers came in much lower than 20,000 concert-goers. (Estimates range between 6,000 and 10,000.) So, there was a lot of room to spread out and see some great bands.

Cypress Hill
It was, by far, the most energetic show I saw all weekend. B-Real’s energy — his banter with the audience, his insistence on crowd participation — was infectious. In the 30 minutes of the performance I watched, I think I witnessed more pot smoked — on stage and off — than I’ve ever been privy to.

J.J. Grey & Mofro
My personal challenge was to explore new musical horizons and blindly take a chance on bands I had either never heard of or had only heard about but never listened to. A set by guitarist/keyboard player/harmonica enthusiast J.J. Grey on one of the more unassuming stages represented my first experiment, and it was a success.

The Flaming Lips

My opinion is going to make me very unpopular: I didn’t think the Flaming Lips’ set was all it was cracked up to be. I was ready for a party, and so was everyone else. That’s what we got, but for me the allure lasted about three songs. Lead singer Wayne Coyne was there in his ball, rolling over the crowd. There were streamers, balloons and confetti. Sure, it was a party, but should a band really create excitement from props instead of music?

THE FLAMING LIPS (more…)

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Here’s a gallery of stars at the 2007 BET Hip-Hop Awards. The photos were taken by Kimberly Neal and Justin Lee from J. Lee Photography.

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BET Hip-Hop Awards weekend got off to a rough start last night, Oct. 11, when, according to a story in the AJC, a shooting took place at a Hot 107.9 WHTA-FM music showcase at Opera nightclub.

A man was recovering at the hopital [sic] Friday morning as police searched for three men who opened fire inside a crowded Midtown Atlanta nightclub.

An estimated 400 to 500 people were inside club Opera at Crescent Avenue and 13h [sic] Street — with as many waiting outside to get in — shortly after 9 p.m. Thursday when the incident happened.

Atlanta police said a man was shot in the side and taken to Grady Memorial Hospital, where he was in fair condition Friday morning. He was identified as Carl Edwards Green II, 29.

No arrests had been made late Thursday night. Police spokesman Ron Campbell said police were looking for three men who left in a black Hummer — one reported to be a rapper.

The party had been advertised all week on Hot 107.9 as a ladies’ night and was scheduled to feature smooth R&B and rap stars such as Trey Songz, Jagged Edge, Ne-Yo and Common. The AJC story reported that the shooting took place as Trey Songz was on stage; when the audience learned of the shooting, it quickly exited the club. The rest of the show was canceled.

Oddly, AllHipHop.com alleged that Atlanta police are looking for JT Money of Luke Records/Poison Clan fame in connection with the shooting.

According to Atlanta Police Department Public Information Officer Ron Campbell, two black males were involved in a verbal altercation, which quickly escalated into gunfire inside Opera, located at 1150 Crescent Street in Midtown Atlanta. …

While the early reports stated that JT Money was one of the three, Officer Campbell would not confirm his involvement as of press time.

“We do have a person of interest, and are expecting to make an arrest,” Officer Campbell told AllHipHop.com early Friday (October 12).

Will any more violent incidents jump off during a weekend heavy with VIP-only hip-hop events and non-VIPs scrambling to get inside?

One immediate casualty is the Def Jam Platinum Pep Rally. Originally scheduled for tonight (Oct. 12) at Morehouse College’s Forbes Arena, it was slated to feature Jermaine Dupri, Rick Ross, Fabolous, Playaz Circle, Beanie Sigel, Freeway, Dream and others. But after yesterday’s shooting, college officials quickly canceled the concert out of fear for public safety, according to a publicist for the event.

Stay tuned.

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Check out the photos CL contributing music writer Chad Radford brought back from his visit to Chi-Town a couple of weeks ago, where he took in a few shows featuring Atlanta’s finest — the Selmanaires, the Black Lips and Deerhunter. Apparently, he had to brave empty beer bottles, puke and football-sized rats to get these shots, so you better enjoy them.

Read all about it in his feature story, “48 hours in Chicago.”

THE BLACK LIPS AT LOGAN SQUARE AUDITORIUM

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A CARIBOU IN THEORY: Dan Snaith, sans matching clothes

(Photo by Jason Evans)

Dan “Caribou” Snaith, maker of the lovely new album Andorra and its accompanying single, the amazing “Melody Day,” is coming to the Earl on Friday, Oct. 12. Caribou, formerly known as Manitoba, is one of the more consistent artists of this decade, and Andorra marks his third dream-pop triumph, following the also excellent Up in Flames and The Milk of Human Kindness.

The last time Caribou played here was in an opening slot for Super Furry Animals at the Loft. I got to the show late and missed his set, but was subsequently told by several people that he put on a good performance. Here’s hoping for similar results.

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(Photo by Marlo Herring)

Harlem Bar is not just a favorite hangout for Atlanta’s beautiful buppies (black urban professionals) looking to kick off their night with fruity mixed drinks and soul food tapas. It also occasionally plays host to some cool music events. This Thursday, Oct. 4, brings a special treat, as DJ Larmarrous’ Beats & Eats, the popular Thursday weekly party, celebrates G&D, a potent partnership between future soul heroes Georgia Anne Muldrow and Dudley Perkins. The L.A.-based duo dropped a collaborative album, The Message Uni Versa, last Sept. 25 on Look Records. They aren’t scheduled to be in the house, though, so hopefully we’ll get an actual G&D concert, not just a listening party, in the months to come.

The night’s real highlight, however, will be a performance by Leaf Newnan (pictured above), one of the more promising voices in the acoustic soul scene. For more than a year, Leaf has quietly organized Leaf Cool Eclectic, a singer/songwriter showcase at Mocha Match in Decatur. (Leaf Cool Eclectic is currently on hiatus, but is scheduled to return in the next few weeks.) She’ll be taping her prime-time gig at Harlem Bar for a forthcoming live album, so she’s asking fans to come out, tell the buppies at the bar to shut up when the song starts, and cheer loudly when she stops singing.

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(photo by Charlie McCullers)

The preview for big, Big Boi’s much-anticipated collaboration with choreographer Lauri Stallings and Atlanta Ballet, took place in the guise of a launch party for Atlanta Ballet’s 2007-2008 season. Held at the King Plow Arts Center, it mostly drew the kind of audience — lovers of the traditional arts — that probably knew nothing of hip-hop beyond what they might hear on the radio or TV. There were large tables of sushi and peppered chicken, and ballet patrons mingled around the studio with wine glasses in hand.

The host for the evening was John McFall, the company’s artistic director. He promised that Atlanta Ballet will create dozens of new costumes for big. “I think we’re going to set a bunch of new fashions with big,” he said, promising that the finished production will be a fantastic and provocative experience.

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The weekend was filled with music thanks to the 10th annual Atlantis Music Conference. Some was good. Some was intolerable.

I spent Thursday night at Smith’s Olde Bar and managed to catch three bands that were really impressive. Singer/songwriter Evan McHugh opened up the night with the help of an upright bass and a drummer to accompany his acoustic guitar. I’ve heard his recorded material, and I have to say he brings his ‘A’ game in the live setting as well. He’s got one of those vocal ranges that hits the high notes with ease and candor.

The Brock Scott Quartet played next, and its sound is a refreshing break from the typical rock band I’m used to seeing. These guys won Open Mic Madness this year, so I expect you’ll see more of them in the future. They have a unique sound that boasts jazz, blues and rock all at the same time. Using a variety of instruments and displaying a true knowledge of music makes the Brock Scott Quartet a band to keep an eye on.

The middle of the night had the favorite taking the stage. The Bridges played one of the best sets I’ve seen from them. Their youth and vigor exudes through their songs. I felt like I was on another planet while I was watching them play. They had a slew of audience members singing along with them, and despite the fact that they’re not playing some kind of cock rock, the majority of patrons in the room were men. I suspect that since the Bridges are collectively one of the best-looking bands around, however, appearances may have had something to do with that, in addition to their sweet, folky, perfectly harmonized love songs.

The Coathangers closed out the night, and the reaction was mixed, as it usually seems to be with this band. Either you love them or you hate them. I caught a very brief part of it before deciding to leave the room and head home.

Friday night was spent entirely at Star Bar to see the annual Prasse Fest. The Empties from Athens opened up with a good showing of poppy garage rock. I was pleased with my first time hearing them, and from the buzz in the room after their set, I’d say they picked up quite a few new fans. For three guys, they certainly make music that’s creative and engaging.

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As promised in a previous post, here are some photos of Zoroaster’s amazing show at Lenny’s Bar Wednesday, Sept. 19. The pictures were taken by Jason Reed.

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Last night, Zoroaster gave the equivalent of an arena-sized concert at Lenny’s Bar. And when I say “arena-sized,” I mean it: a column of lights that blew away anyone who stepped into the club, a booming sound system and the band mashing out its grindcore amid smoke that turned the members into silhouettes. The spectacle was so out of this world that dozens of people in front of the stage simply freaked out, headbanging and throwing up their two fingers in the “Satan” salute. Even the dudes in the back of the room raised their Pabst beer cans in tribute.

It’s difficult to describe how amazing Zoroaster’s concert was. I’ll post some pictures soon. In the meantime, check out T. Lagon’s profile of the band from CL’s Sept. 12 issue here.

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1947 Studebaker Wrecker

In a town as big as Atlanta, it is inevitable that there are going to be major events that just don’t cater to everyone in the city. But there is a strange phenomenon that occurs whenever a group of people get together and have a good time based on their shared interests — somebody feels left out and makes a fuss about it. Well, that’s just too bad, because if you couldn’t find an event in Atlanta over Labor Day weekend that fit your niche, you were not looking hard enough. Dragon*Con? Montreux Jazz Festival? Black Gay Pride? Drive-Invasion? Damn, there is something for everyone …

Since its inception, Drive-Invasion has served as a sort of “homecoming/family reunion”-type event, with many of the original supporters being the folks who were part of the Star Bar-rockabilly -Redneck Underground scene in the early ’90s. As the event expanded to include car shows, vendors, camping and bigger crowds, it has gone through a couple of different guiding hands. But for the most part, the event is a celebration of some pretty specific aspects of American culture — drive-in cult movies, country, rockabilly and rock ‘n’ roll music, flashy cars, and retro fashion. It’s a visual smorgasbord for people-watching, and the loose structure of the event allows a lot of leeway in how people play.

For some it’s an excuse to drink to oblivion and raise some hell. For others it’s a forum to show off tattoo-covered skin (and plenty of it). And for some it is a chance to relax, hear cool bands, laugh at awful movies, imbibe, eat well (or poorly), and be with friends who you haven’t seen since, well, last year. (more…)

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I spent last Tuesday night (Aug. 28) at El Bar, and by doing so, simultaneously paid homage to rock music, alcohol and the Coathangers. (You can read more about them in Chad Radford’s CL story, “Boobie trapped,” this week.) The new Triple D’s Rock Night (occurring Sept. 11, Sept. 25, then every Tuesday beginning in October at El Bar) features Damon Hare, Drennen Quinn and Dustan Nigro spinning rock favorites — a rare and pleasant break from the normal (and sometimes tired) DJ routines.

The Triple D’s hosted a Coathangers listening party for the release of their upcoming debut CD. And though there were no miniature horses, as rumored to be in attendance at the upcoming release party at Criminal Records Sept. 4, the club was packed by midnight with the Coathangers, their label managers Trey and Travis at Rob’s House Records, and a crew of friends squeezed into the small club in the basement of El Azteca.

Everyone was in good spirits as the booze flowed and the DJs spun old rock favorites mixed with the sounds of the Coathangers’ new album. The girls were all smiles — giddy, confident and grateful. Their new album drops Sept. 4 on Rob’s House Records, with an album release show that day at Criminal Records at 7 p.m. It’s free, and there’s beer. Go, and pay your own respects to beer and fun local music.

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LUDACRIS (right) PERFORMED DURING NAS’ ROCK THE BELLS SET AT HIFI BUYS AMPHITHEATRE, AUG. 2

(Photo by Joeff Davis)

So I sent a text to a friend of mine last week to let her know I had a spare ticket to see her favorite Atlanta rapper in concert this Tuesday.

“You mean Andre 3000 is performing!!!” she texted back.

“Um no, how about your second favorite Atlanta rapper,” I responded.

“T.I.?!!”

“Not quite … try your third?”

“Not Young Jeezy?”

“Nevermind …”

Needless to say, Ludacris didn’t even make the cut. Guess I overestimated his spot among Atlanta’s hip-hop elite. Maybe Samsung/AT&T did, too, since they put him on the Atlanta bill of their Summer Krush concert series. You can’t even buy one of these tickets, and I’m having a problem giving it away. So I decided to open it up to blog readers just to see if anybody out there could prove my friend wrong.

All you have to do is respond to this post and tell me why Ludacris deserves a higher ranking than fourth among Atlanta’s top rappers. (Side note: MTV’s hip-hop brain trust didn’t even rank him among its recently released top 10 hottest MC’s in the game.)

To avoid any further embarrassment — both mine and his — I’m going to take the first person to respond who is 21 or older. You must also be willing to have your photo and the details of your night at the show posted on Crib Notes.

That’s right, I’m taggin’ along.

Doors open at 8 p.m., Tuesday, Aug. 20, at the undisclosed location. Leave your e-mail in the response and I’ll hit you up with the rest of the details.

Redeem yourselves, Ludacris fans.

NOTE: In case you miss Tuesday’s concert, Ludacris has another planned for Sept. 2 at Opera to wrap up Luda Day weekend. It will feature special guests including Ne-Yo, Chingy and Bobby Valentino. You can register to win tickets by logging onto www.ludadayconcert.com. And you may still be able to win your own tickets to Tuesday’s show. Click here for details.

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Attention members of the po-po: Country vet Travis Tritt is inviting you, along with members of the military and the fire department, to hang out at his upcoming Atlanta shindig.

With a valid I.D., we will provide up to four (4) complimentary tickets for Terrace or Rear Terrace seats to the Aug. 22 concert at Chastain Park (subject to availability and not applicable with any other offers). Tickets can be picked-up at the Woodruff Arts Center Box Office prior to the concert or the night of the performance at Chastain Park if seating is available.

No word on whether Rudy Giuliani will show up.

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I’ve always thought highly of Vinyl. I suppose that’s because of the sheer number of times I’ve heard it mentioned by friends and acquaintances. Figured it must be something special.

I had never actually been to Vinyl, though, until Friday, Aug. 3, when I went to check out Liquid Jungle celebrate the release of its first album, Tiny Heaven.

Vinyl was packed with the prettiest suburbanites around. It was as if class at Dawson Creek High had just let out. Sneering, turf-claiming blondes dressed in skimpy AE halter tops eyed my friends and I as we cruised through the front doors and made our way toward the bar. And this is where my opinion of Vinyl started to dwindle: $4 PBRs. (more…)

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