Daily Loaf

Welcome to the November edition of the ninebullets.net podcast. This month, since we’re celebrating Thanksgiving, I decided to do an all-Florida homage to the bands that play week-in and week-out in my home state. You know, the bands we can see so often we take them for granted, passing up their shows for whatever current buzz band is coming through town that weekend, and making fleeting promises that we’ll catch their show the following weekend. November’s ninebullets.net podcast is dedicated to these Florida bands and is entirely made up of their music. Thanks for all the drunken nights y’all have given us this year, and I look forward to more of them in the coming year.

In keeping with the Florida theme, I reached out to Cigar City Brewing to sponsor this month’s show. They agreed and gave me IPA, Mocha Cubano, Brown Ale, Imperial Stout and some others. The idea was to drink them while I did the podcast like I did last month, but once we opened the first growler I knew that wasn’t gonna happen. While I took the entire month to work through the Rogue beers, we put down all of the Cigar City beer in two days. If you live in the Tampa area, you should get over to their brewery and buy you some. Trust me, I’m a professional.

There is also a ton of free stuff for you listeners wrapped inside this month’s podcast. We have free CDs from Have Gun Will Travel, Greenland Is Melting and Chuck Ragan. We also have a vinyl copy of The Takers album and a beautiful 7″ picture disc from Chuck Ragan. To find out how to win this stuff, you’re gonna have to actually tune in. Read the rest of this entry »

One night, several years ago, after enjoying a few pitchers of beer at The Brass Mug during karaoke night, my friends and I thought it’d be a good idea to do our own fabulous take on Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody,” which also happens to be one of the few times I voluntarily performed karaoke. My then-boyfriend, now-husband joined us on stage, and let me tell you, it was one of the most fun times I’ve had making a fool out of myself (I took all the opera high notes). My husband pretty much falling off the stage at the song’s climactic finale provided one of the night’s highlights, since he managed to land, not gracefully, but without hurting himself.

I just got a link to what I consider a much better rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody,” this one performed by the entire cast of The Muppet Show. PLEASE watch this. It is NOT lip-syncing but presented with the voices of our dear Muppet friends — and Animal’s part is too classic for words. Literally. It will make your holiday weekend, I promise. [Video still pictured; check it out in all its musical glory after the jump.] Read the rest of this entry »

When it comes to music, I’m a creature of habit. My record collection, and by record I mean vinyl, is still organized neatly in a cabinet waiting for the day I can find a stylus for my antique Technics turntable. Until then, I have learned to live with an iPod, which I own only because my 12-year-old son purchased a new one and shamed me into taking his hand-me-down MP3 player. Although I have given in to this new digital techno-magic, my taste in music has not come so far. The collection on my iPod reflects many years of listening to songs repeatedly and filtering out those that don’t make the cut. It’s a very exclusive group that I make changes to about as often as a Clear Channel radio station changes its own playlists (read: not very much). Adding a new song to my iPod is a major step for me and one that I do not take lightly. In the event I die while enjoying my music, I don’t want some paramedic picking up my headset and remarking that it must have been the shit I was listening to that killed me. With that said, I trust you’ll understand that the addition of Primal Incantation to my eternal playlist is a very big deal. Read the rest of this entry »

Throughout his California childhood, while trying to come to terms with his sexual identity, Antony Hegarty, the “Antony” of Antony and the Johnsons, believed he was the ultimate “odd egg” until he first saw Boy George on the cover of Culture Club’s 1982 debut. Eight years later, Antony moved to New York, where he was more accepted for his androgyny and avant-garde sensibilities. Music writer John Hodgman once described Antony’s voice as “somewhere between male and female, between childish innocence and weary adulthood, at once ethereal and earthy.” I would arrogantly describe his style as Nina Simone-esque.

In 2000, he formed his current band, Antony and the Johnsons. Soon after, he toured with Lou Reed and appeared on two of Reed’s albums. Read the rest of this entry »

What do you do after 20 years of confounding mainstream-music expectations — during which, despite your best intentions, you’ve become bigger than many of the bands that personified the process and culture you so effectively eschewed? If you’re NOFX bassist and singer (not to mention Fat Wreck Chords founder) “Fat” Mike Burkett, you begin to drop your alternately provocative and hilarious persona/guard, and show a bit more of your true self to those fans that have stuck around long enough to deserve it.

Just a bit. A little, little bit. Read the rest of this entry »

A quick breakdown of this weekend’s most worthy concerts beginning with Wednesday, ’cause when it’s a holiday weekend, we start our partying nice and early. For a more comprehensive schedule of concerts, check out our Upcoming Events page.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 25
Jill Andrews w/Matt Butcher/Will Quinlan Kick off your Thanksgiving weekend right with rootsy music by Andrews (of Tennessee’s Everybodyfields), and local songwriters Butcher and Quinlan in a show billed as a “special all-acoustic/solo-duo evening of songwriting skills with tales to be told.” 9 p.m., New World Brewery, Ybor City, $7.

An Evening with Emilie Autumn [pictured] The anarchist violinist/singer-songwriter “discovered” by Courtney Love is known for her unnaturally vibrant locks, Victorian fashions given the 21st century goth-and-glam treatment, and “fantasy rock” music that fuses elements of cabaret, electronica, classical music and Irish folk. Although this is a concert with her band, the Bloody Crumpets, Autumn is currently on tour in support of her “autobiographic thriller,” The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls, which she both wrote and illustrated. 7 p.m. doors, State Theatre, St. Petersburg, $15 (all ages).

Underoath w/August Burns Red/Emery Few chart-topping bands classify themselves as Christian metalcore, but that brand of music is exactly how Tampa’s own Underoath found success. After participating in the Van’s Warped Tour this summer, the band is touring the country through December to rock the faces off fans with songs from their latest release, Lost in the Sound of Separation as well as from past albums like Define the Great Line, which first got them onto the Billboard 200 chart back in 2006. Underoath is joined by Emery and fellow Christian-influenced rockers August Burns Red. 6:30 p.m. doors, The Ritz Ybor, Ybor City, $21 in advance/$25 dos (all ages). –Kristina Welch Read the rest of this entry »

Were you appalled by CL’s review of the Steely Dan show a few months back? Want to write a review that does justice to your favorite band? Or do you just want to get into a show for free and write about it afterwards? If so, CL has a nice little live music package for you: Attend an upcoming concert of your choice as a guest of CL’s music editor, then write a review and get it published in both the print and online editions of Creative Loafing. Share it with all your Facebook friends to show them how a review should be written, email a link to the featured band and enjoy warm fuzzies when said band tweets about it.

Suggested opening bid: $50

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With the Thanksgiving holiday looming ahead in all its turkeylicious, cranberry sauce-drenched glory, I’ve decided to go obvious and give thanks for great music with a playlist of 10 of my favorite songs expressing gratitude, whether it’s for friendship, love, a great party or the gift of a fiber optic Jesus.

1. “Thank You for Being a Friend,” Andrew Gold, All This and Heaven Too (1978).
Gold’s hit reached No. 25 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart in ’78, but the warm soft-rock number made pop culture history after it was shaved down to 46 seconds and recorded by singer Cynthia Fee for The Golden Girls. I watched a few hours of Golden Girls reruns on the Hallmark Channel recently and I let “Thank You for Being a Friend” — arguably the pinnacle of TV theme songs — play through every time. Yes, I watched six episodes in a row — so what? Golden Girls is ’80s sitcom gold (no pun intended) and bad old-lady fashion aside, it holds up rather well over time. Thus, this shout out is dedicated to the song and the show.

2. “Thank You,” Led Zeppelin, Led Zeppelin II (1969)
Delicate swells of Hammond organ by John Paul Jones, the bright, full-bodied strumming of Jimmy Page on his Vox 12-string guitar, and Robert Plant’s vocals serenading like a soft caress, then growing stronger with his passion — Led Zeppelin’s “Thank You” is a flawless love song for a hard rockin’ band, with poetic lyricism like, “And so today my world it smiles / your hand in mine, we walk the miles / Thanks to you it will be done / for you to me are the only one.” Read the rest of this entry »

Never in a million years would I picture myself on the front lawn of the famous ATO Fraternity house on the beautiful campus of University of Central Florida. However, the fraternity’s annual Rock the Reef concert featured my all time favorite band, Just Surrender, so I put my prejudices aside and gave the frat brah’s a chance. Let me just take a minute and give those frat brah’s props; I’d imagined a group of meat-headed,  douche-baggy guys getting drunk and trying to bang chicks. The boys of ATO completely changed my mind — they rocked out to the music, did some stage diving, and thrashed around in the mosh pits. Most importantly, they made sure all the ladies were safe amongst the rowdiness. Insane.

That aside, Just Surrender blew my mind (as they have in the past). The five-piece Poughkeepsie, N.Y.-based band got together back in 2003. Over the years, there’ve been various lineup changes and a whole lot of musical growth. Just Surrender’s debut, If These Streets Could Talk, hit stores in 2005. They were featured on MTV’s You Heard It First that year, boosting their fanbase across America. Despite not-so-great reviews (critic Christopher Felton described them as “unfortunately nothing more than a half-decent attempt at copying the work of far more superior bands”), the band soldiered ahead with their sophomore album, We’re in Like Sin, in 2007. Shortly after, the band released a four-song EP, Stronger Now, which was passed out at Warped Tours around the country. Their albums are great, but in order to really get a feel for this band, seeing them live is a must. Just Surrender has toured with bands like Autopilot Off (fellow New Yorkers), Bayside, My American Heart, Cartel, Hawthorne Heights, The Audition, All Time Low, Mayday Parade, Every Avenue, Set Your Goals and many others.

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This year, the Japanese psychedelic-metal collective Acid Mothers Temple stayed busier than most and released four albums.

Their latest, Dark Side of the Black Moon: What Planet Are We On? is unaltered in the slightest from their innumerable previous outputs, and if anything, their style – a distinct rupture of metallic speed – has swelled into an even more berserk tempest.

No other band makes music so extreme; not extreme like a Mountain Dew commercial, but more comparable to the overzealous pursuit of distilling only what is required to showcase a lack of moderation.

There are no interludes, no breakdowns, no calm patches, no introspection, and not an iota of breathing room, because once Dark Side awakens, every instant fires full throttle, with a demented treatment of overlapping guitars charging imponderable beats-per-minute, the swarm of fizzy intergalactic effervescence, and the unequivocal jangle of tribal psychedelia heard in pastoral Bavarian communes during the late ’60s. Read the rest of this entry »

As I began my journey to the entrance of the Ritz Theater for last Sunday, November 15’s Deadmau5 and Burns show, I honestly had no idea what to expect. I’d been to Bonnaroo the past two years and witnessed the dance tents that turned into techno and house rave parties by midnight. When Tiesto was in town, I heard he didn’t go on until after midnight, and I was hoping Deadmau5 wouldn’t live up to those shoes. I learned shortly after my 9 p.m. arrival that his performance time was 12:45 – 3am. Great, I thought; so I get to sit around and watch these fool’s wave glow sticks in front of each others’ face for almost four hours? Entertaining. But by the time I reached the Ritz’s main room, I noticed the elaborate light setup on the stage for both performers, and knew it would be worth the wait. [All photos and text by Mike Wilson.]

At 9 p.m., the venue was not even close to half-capacity, which I enjoyed because I didn’t have to deal with shoulder-to-shoulder moving space. Of course, right when I realized how comfortable it was, the mobs starting piling through both entrances and before I knew it, I was forced to hangout up in the VIP balcony to watch all these new, interesting friends dance until they dropped. Read the rest of this entry »

When I was much younger, I wasn’t much of a Jackson Browne fan. As a pre-teen growing up in Providence, Rhode Island, it was common to hear Browne’s many hit singles on the radio. I enjoyed some of them but was never drawn to buy any of them on my weekly jaunts with the family to the local department store to buy 45s. [ All photos by Sam Goresh.]

Browne’s 1976 hit, “Here Come Those Tears Again,” was the first song that my sister and I were able to record on cassette while aired on the radio thanks to the fancy new stereo our mom bought during the bicentennial year. Needless to say, I was aware of Jackson Browne’s music but it never had much of an affect on me.

As I grew older I learned to respect his songwriting skills, but again, there wasn’t much of a connection. It always seemed to me that Jackson was writing to a much older and more mature audience. His tales of adulthood and the responsibilities that come with it didn’t really resonate with me. As I’ve slowly eased into my fourth decade, much has changed. My outlook on life, my expectations, my realizations … they’ve all shifted and gone through a drastic overhaul. And yes, now, finally, I’ve gained a passion for Jackson Browne’s music and more specifically, the insight and wisdom he crafts into each and every one of his compositions.

And this past Friday night, before a passionate sold-out crowd, I got to see and hear Mr. Browne bring the house down at Ruth Eckerd Hall in the most intimate and stripped-down setting possible: Browne is currently in the midst of one of his solo acoustic tours where he travels only with a small electric piano and a slew of acoustic guitars. There honestly couldn’t have been a better local venue for this show to take place. The impeccable sound and acoustics that Ruth Eckerd Hall boasts really worked to Browne’s advantage. Somehow, Browne has managed to retain his sharp vocal abilities throughout his 40-year career while many of his contemporaries haven’t been as lucky. His timbre and pitch are as strong and recognizable as ever. The enunciation and phrasing of his words and breaths are still as cleverly paced as ever. Throw in his underrated yet exceptional guitar skills and you’ve got yourself the makings of a memorable show. Read the rest of this entry »

Brian Merrill and Ed Woltil of The Ditchflowers — the Best of the Bay-winning group praised in a CL cover story for their catchy hooks and intelligent lyrics — will write and record a song just for you. The subject? You tell the Ditchflowers, and that’s what they’ll write about.

Current High Bid: $300.

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Ever wonder what a music editor does with all those CDs? Most of them are stacked in teetering piles until they collapse in a spectacular crash of clattering plastic jewel cases. The Schwag Bag package includes a few dozen mystery CDs straight from the teetering collection of the music editor, many unopened and ready to be welcomed into the winning bidder’s loving rack. Some of these are advance copies and a few — like Slayer’s World Painted Blood in its toxic waste bag — are still wrapped in their media-exclusive packaging.

Estimated value: $200.

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Tech N9ne’s K.O.D. tour rolled through State Theatre this past Monday night, turning St. Petersburg’s reputation as a sleepy little city on its ear both figuratively and literally. The undercard lineup included Tech’s Strange Music label mates Krizz Kaliko, Kutt Calhoun, and Big Scoob as well as Glasses Malone. BC performed joints from his new album, “Time Pieces” to open the show. And while Tech certainly lived up to the expectations of his, at times, overly enthusiastic juggalo followers, the highlight of the night for me was definitely Slaughterhouse. [All photos by Tracy May.]

Crooked I, Joe Budden, Joell Ortiz, and Royce Da 5’9”, all heavyweights in their own rights, joined forces to create a lyrical Slaughterhouse. The result was a self-titled album that they say is the top-selling independent hip hop album of the year. I say it is one of the best hip hop albums I’ve had the pleasure of purchasing in a long time. Their live show was every bit as impressive. [More + photo galleries of Slaughterhouse and Tech N9ne after the jump.] Read the rest of this entry »

Stay up-to-date on your music news.

• Green Day hit the studio to re-record 21 Guns with the cast of the American Idiot musical, and also plan to shoot a new video to accompany it. This could be the next big hit on Glee.
• Jennifer Lopez has released her new single, “Louboutins,” which she will perform at the American Music Awards on Sunday. Her stilettos were made for walking, and she wants you to know about it.
• Eminem is pushing back his Relapse 2 album release to 2010, but on Dec. 21, he’ll re-release his fifth studio record as Relapse: Refill with seven bonus tracks. If I had to have some sort of relapse, I’d be stoked to have Slim Shady by my side.
• Paul McCartney joins Ringo Starr for a duet on Starr’s forthcoming album, Y Not. Ringo + Macca + new song = something that everyone will listen to and support because nobody talks shit about the Beatles.
• The ninth annual Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival will be taking place June 10 – 13 next summer in Manchester, Tenn. Those are also the only dates in 2010 when I will actually wish to be in Tennessee.
• The Decemberists are releasing an iTunes-exclusive “full-length video album” next month, and have just released its drug-induced trailer. Check out the video and get more music news links after the jump. Read the rest of this entry »

If Radiohead and the Beatles had a lovechild that grew up to kick your ass and take your girlfriend, it would be Harry Dash.

Everyone can remember one moment that he/she felt alive, where that one spark fueled a true passion. My personal catalyst was an oddly-named band called Harry Dash.

Harry Dash is a local New Port Richey band that means “flash” or “cool” in British cockney slang. I had heard of the band quite a bit growing up, since they’ve been on the local Tampa band scene since the mid ’90s. Their amazing covers of songs such as Pink Floyd’s “Run Like Hell” and “Muscle Museum” by Muse, and the high energy sound of original songs like “Spies.” Not to forget the soulful, powerhouse vocals behind lullaby ballads and inspirational “get off your butt and do something” anthems such as “Tank.”

I was 16 and like many teenagers, trying to figure out exactly what I wanted to do with my life.

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North Tampa’s longtime outdoor venue and restaurant Skipper’s Smokehouse always promises a good time. This fabulous package includes dinner for two ($30 value) and two tickets to virtually any show of your choice that takes place at Skipper’s between November 19, 2009 and November 19, 2010. (Offer excludes New Year’s Eve.) Among worthy upcoming shows are roots purveyors the Eilen Jewell Band and Sara Borges & the Broken Singles (November 20), the bluegrass flavor of Dr. Ralph Stanley & His Clinch Mountain Boys (December 6), the Afro-beat rock of Toubab Krewe (December 13), and the NOLA funk of Trombone Shorty (January 9). None of those shows appeal to you? There are plenty of others TBA.

Current High Bid: $40

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If AC/DC has fired its last cannon in Florida, the fans at Amway Arena in Orlando enjoyed a raucous final salute on November 19.

The 35-year rock veterans with Hall of Fame credentials put on a fast-paced two-hour set — no room for ballads at an AC/DC show — featuring classics (four songs from 1977’s Let There Be Rock and four from 1980’s Back In Black) and newer songs (four from last year’s Black Ice). And although they’ve been on tour for more than a year, the band seemed no worse for wear: Guitarist Angus Young was a blur as he ran from the stage to the catwalk and back again, legs pumping to the rhythm provided by the near-motionless Malcolm Young on rhythm guitar, Cliff Williams on bass and Phil Rudd on drums. If not for their occasional strolls forward to sing some background vocals before retreating back into the shadows, you’d think AC/DC was a two-man operation.

If Young was all sweat, lead singer Brian Johnson was all smiles — shaking hands, pumping his fists and belting out classics with a sharper growl than he had at last year’s show in Tampa. There were no angry scowls on stage; the mood was more of a friendly gathering or a reunion of sorts. And by the looks of greybeards with dated concert gear mixed with younger fans wearing new purchases from the souvenir stands, it was clear that many in attendance had seen the band before. No doubt they had heard them many times, as nearly every song had the entire arena helping out with the chorus. Not so with openers Megaphone, a local band that performed a capable set and probably deserved a bit more recognition than they received from the crowd. Read the rest of this entry »

Ever dreamed of becoming a rock god but didn’t know how to go about it? Join Creative Loafing’s Rock School and be at once immortal! Curated by musicians Joran Oppelt and Stephen Hammill, Rock School is a three-hour cram session where you’ll learn some killer stage moves and techniques from some of the best Bay area musical talent. This is a great gift for the new musician young or old just starting on an instrument, or for the more experienced player looking for some help/advice on developing stage presence.

Estimated value: $150.

Current High Bid: $30

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This weekend proved to me once again that I am getting too old to party like a rock star two nights in a row. [All photos by Nicole Kibert.]

The self-abuse began this past Friday night, when I set out to, and I quote myself here, “get Lucero drunk.” [Frontman Ben Nichols pictured at left.] I am happy to report that my mission was a complete success. The trade off, though, is that my recollection of the show is slightly hazy. A lot of the reviews I read leading up to Lucero’s Tampa show were about the crowd, that the frat boy concentration levels were reportedly getting dangerously high. I didn’t really notice it being a problem here, though my only complaint about the show was the crowd — a completely expected complaint all things considered. See, as a band’s popularity and attending crowds grow, the devotion level of the crowd begins to get diluted. While there was no shortage of people at Czar who where there to be seen rather than to see Lucero, they didn’t hurt the quality of what was happening on the stage, so let’s talk about that … and the horns. Read the rest of this entry »

Formerly bearded weirdo Devendra Banhart releases another album of strange folk with What Will We Be (Reprise). Problem is, his major label debut sounds overproduced and commercialized, with none of the organic charm of previous albums. It’s an unfocused grab bag of tracks ranging from Banhart as R&B crooner on “Baby,” to Banhart as Cut Copy-inspired DJ on “16^th and Valencia, Roxy Music.”

“Can’t Help but Smiling,” though, has the refreshing, invigorating feeling of waking up after a mid-day nap. It’s a lively, tropical folk song with Spanish undertones. Depressingly, the production tarnishes the tune with a sheen that wouldn’t be out of place in a commercial for Levi’s or iPod, or some other corporation trying to lure in a hip demographic. The appeal of previous Banhart albums were their lo-fi intimacy. Who wants a musically airbrushed folk singer? Read the rest of this entry »

Are you a local musician who feels like your band hasn’t gotten the break it deserves? Music Editor Leilani Polk has just the solution: a band profile tailored to your specifications along with a photo (like this one of Geri X) taken by professional photographer James Ostrand.

Current high bid: $75

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Go indie music store shopping with CL Music Editor Leilani Polk and get six records plus a player for the price of a charitable donation. Three local independent record stores — Daddy Kool in St. Petersburg, Mojo Books & Music in North Tampa and Vinyl Fever in South Tampa — offer two records apiece. At each store, you pick one record of your choice, and based on your musical tastes, Leilani will pick the other (with your okay, of course). To sweeten the deal, Audio Visions South is throwing in a Vintage Refurbished Thorens TD 126 MK-III Turntable (retail value $400). Sound good enough for ya? (Note: This offer excludes box sets, imports and/or limited/special releases; and if the winning bidder prefers to purchase CDs rather than vinyl despite getting a pimp-ass record player in the deal, we can certainly oblige.)

Estimated value: $550.

Current High Bid: $130.

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It’s been a little while since I’ve written one of these, I know. I blame the relentless daily grind and its effect on my creative juices, which used to flow in a healthy torrent and now trickle in erratic drips and bursts. Phish has helped me through it, and I’ve hopscotched my way from one musical reprieve to the next to keep a firm grip on my mental well-being — a roadtrip to Knoxville via RV with some Bonnaroo-bound friends; a long weekend in the Midwest at the Deer Creek and Alpine shows, with some relaxing downtime at a lakeside resort and the small town surrounding it; and a long weekend in New England, the rather stellar Hartford and great Saratoga Springs shows serving as bookends to a good friend’s 40th birthday extravaganza. That last was a particularly fulfilling excursion because my husband and I met a diversity of like-minded music lovers, made new friends and re-connected with older ones, chowed down on delectable homemade cookies (gotta get that recipe, Stephen!) and other tasty eats all throughout, and generally took in some tranquil good times amidst one of the most pristine mountainside settings I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing. [All photos by Phil Bardi.]

So basically, I’ve spent more time catching the grooves and enjoying the comforts of good friendships (i.e., taking real vacations), and less devoted to actually writing about the band that got me writing about music in the first place. Seeing Phish is a sort of soul cleansing, the metaphysical lift I need to get me through to my next phase of reality, and lately I’ve focused more on trying to soak up the time while it’s happening rather than trying to overanalyze it, or even analyze it at all.

But I digress. Yes I was wrong about the festival location — I’ll happily eat my words because Phish Festival 8 was … a little like paradise. Just imagine for a moment that last Phish festival in Vermont — the nasty weather, a hellishly long wait in miles upon miles of gridlocked traffic followed by Mike’s disheartening “Please turn around” radio announcement, the thousands of cars abandoned by fest goers who decided to hoof it in, Trey pretty much falling apart on stage, the mud, oh god, that awful, stinking, sticky dark brown mud …

Now, picture staying offsite in a big comfy bed and taking showers everyday, driving into the festival grounds amidst little or no traffic, the only real down side the kerchief covering your mouth, Old West-style, to fight the grainy dust of California’s Southeastern desert reaches. The surrounding landscape is gorgeous in an unforgiving sort of way, bursting with a multitude of earthy hues that change depending on the position of the sun — sooty brown, russet, cinnamon, amber, ochre, burnt sienna, rust, umber, terra-cotta … You enter the Empire Polo Club, park, make your way through amiable, if entrapment-attempting security personnel at the gate, then suddenly, you’re in and luscious food scents are drifting on the breeze along with snippets of excited conversation about the seeming ease of every single thing so far, postcard perfect surroundings — the clear cloud-free sky, the line of palm trees that seem to be everywhere you look, and behind those, the rugged peaks of mountains; the bars that serve beer and alcohol (Bloody Marys!!); and oh my god, can you believe the fucking grass?? Take your shoes off and dig your toes in it. Carpet-soft, clean and dry — no puddles of mud forming anywhere. Venture deeper into the circular, verdant stretch of lawn, and explore the scattered art installations and creative diversions, white tents set up over clusters of food vendors, retailers, not-too-nasty Port-o-Potties (with the fabulous option of port-o-trailers with toilets and running water — nonpotable and recycled, of course, everything here is green-friendly) … [Video after the jump.] Read the rest of this entry »

Tom Waits concerts are real events: phantasmic orgies of twisted, postmodern vaudeville and rag-and-bone blues. Unfortunately, his last world tour does not translate all that well to a strictly audio format.

Sans visuals — the weird, low-tech theatrics, Waits’ demented carnival-barker stage persona — the music on Glitter and Doom Live comes off as strident and lacking in nuance.

The iconoclastic artist, closing in on 60, now sings almost exclusively in a low, guttural bark that would make a cranky Rottweiler blush with envy. And when Waits is not barking, he occasionally emits banshees shrieks that would cause that Rottweiler to hide under the bed.

All of this gets rather tiresome after awhile. And it makes me wonder what happened to Waits’ other vocal gears: the whispery rasp, the craggy croon, the barroom moan. Those textures crop up occasionally in this 17-song set, but not enough. Read the rest of this entry »

A sold-out show full of high school kids was not what I expected to see at the Say Anything show this past Friday night at State Theatre. It’s what I got, so I went with it. With barely any room to maneuver, I decided to walk around to the back of the theater and work my way through the loading dock. While everyone else was crammed shoulder to shoulder, I was standing comfortably on the side of the stage without anyone bothering me.

Now keep in mind, I’ve been a fan of the band since their first album dropped, and to be honest, that’s all I really wanted to hear. I’ve seen SA a few times in the past couple of years and have enjoyed their dynamic sets every time. Friday’s show was no exception. [Lead singer Max Bemis pictured at right.]

I was a bit concerned about their choice in attire that night. All six band members were clad in dress shirts, dress slacks, and yachting shoes. I have never been a fan of bands with members who all dress alike — don’t ask me why, I just haven’t. But I pushed all judgment aside, laughed it off and sang along to all my favorite songs. I kept finding myself bobbing to the songs I grew up with while still trying to maintain a steady frame in the camera. Let me give all you photographers a word of advice, don’t do it. It did not work well. Read the rest of this entry »

In 2005, vocalist/guitarist/keyboardist Nick Thornburn and drummer Jamie Thompson’s band, Islands, was born upon the demise of The Unicorns, their previous group, very successful project. Since then, the Canadian band has featured a regularly changing lineup of contributing members: Alex and Sebastian Chow, the 1993 and 1994 World Super N.E.S. Fest champions (I’m not really sure what that means, maybe something to do with Nintendo?); Jim Guthrie, grandson of Woody; rappers Subtitle and Busdriver (no idea who they are); and Richy Parry from the great band, Arcade Fire.  Read the rest of this entry »

The inspiration for the title track off Eilen Jewell’s 2009 album, Sea of Tears, came to the alt-country songstress while she was sleeping. [Photo of Jewell and her band at right by Jennifer Lucey-Brzoza.]

“I had this dream about these two people in a marketplace, an open air space, and for some reason, they happened into each other,” Jewell explained to me via phone as she was gearing up for a co-headlining tour with friend and fellow Boston-based roots music rocker, Sara Borges. “He pretended like he didn’t see her, and she was saying these things to him, and he wasn’t really hearing her, either. When I woke up, I wrote down the words she’d said to him.”

Jewell stripped away the surreal details of her nighttime vision to reveal the stark, embittered emotion of a woman spurned by her man and trying to make sense of it in a crooning serenade: “You won’t even look my way / Is there nothing I can say / to make us how we used to be? / You won’t even notice me.” Resigned to her imminent loss and loneliness, she declares, “It’s gonna be a sea of tears for me / it’s gonna be a life of misery,” her sultry, forlorn vocals set against vintage rock ‘n’ roll with measured rhythms and the twisted twangy notes of steel guitar. Jewell credits the aesthetic of the Seeds’ 1967 single “Can’t Seem to Make You Mine” with influencing the sound of “Sea of Tears” and providing the perfect rhythmic fit for her lyrics. “The song kind of just wrote itself.”

While 2007’s Letters from Sinners and Strangers was considered her breakthrough LP, the delicate pale-haired beauty has made true believers of Americana audiences with her third; Sea of Tears held a Top 10 position on the Americana Radio Charts for more than seven weeks. Read the rest of this entry »

Football punches? Retarded News? Porn stars? Celebrity guests? You never know what’ll happen on The Cowhead Show on 102.5 The Bone. But now’s your chance to experience the chaos that is Cowhead up close and personal — as co-host for a day.

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Poor Pete Yorn. He deserves a fate better than the hand he was dealt last Thursday night at Push Ultra Lounge, a hip downtown St. Pete nightclub. The New Jersey native has built quite a name for himself since the release of his excellent 2001 debut, Musicforthemorningafter. He’s slowly but steadily racked up a solid fanbase thanks to his consistent string of impressive albums, appearances on a slew of film soundtracks and constant touring. Adding to his notoriety is his latest effort, a critically-acclaimed album of duets with actress/singer Scarlett Johansson entitled, Break Up. For all his glowing achievements, all Pete Yorn got from the trendy St. Petersburg crowd was noise. A lot of it. And I don’t mean the between-song noise associated with appreciation and adoration for each number performed. I mean that devil-may-care, incessant conversation type of noise. And damn, was it annoying. [Photo by James Ostrand.]

While I’m no prude and no stranger to the trappings that come with a bar show, I certainly wasn’t prepared for the complete and utter lack of respect and interest in Yorn’s performance. It seemed as if paying attention to him was the last priority of most of the attendees. Talking, to each other and on cell phones, texting, taking photos of each another — activities that most were fully immersed in for the bulk of the night.  My friend Kim put the evening’s ridiculous scenario into perfect pop-culture perspective. She said it felt like we were in a nightclub scene from a Melrose Place episode, hanging out, talking and looking cool while some nameless, faceless, innocuous singer was on stage plugging away. The difference was, of course, that some of us who were jammed into the club were actually there to see (and to TRY to hear) Pete Yorn. And boy, did we try. Read the rest of this entry »

The Dunedin Wines the Blues Festival wrapped up its 18th year on Saturday with an old school blues show by John Lee Hooker, Jr., son of the legendary bluesman John Lee Hooker.  John Lee, Jr. hit the stage in true blues style, dressed in a dark hat, sunglasses and a vest, and quickly brought the at-capacity crowd to its feet. Backed by a four-piece band, Hooker started the set with “The People Want a Change,” from his Grammy-nominated release, All Odds Against Me, and continued to turn out the blues for nearly two hours. In addition to a wide variety of originals and blues standards, Hooker also managed to squeeze in a song or two by his famous father, which brought the crowd to its feet again. Caught up in the excitement, several women even felt the urge to join Hooker on stage, which John Lee seemed to enjoy. In all, this year’s blues festival set a new bar for musical quality, due largely to the inclusion of John Lee Hooker, Jr. It will be interesting to see how festival organizers plan to keep up this level of quality entertainment in the coming years.

For more Tampa area concert info, follow Jeff on Twitter.

A weekly bulletin about who’s playing on late night TV; set your TIVOs or DVRs if you’ve got an early bedtime. See a day missing? No musical guest that night…

The Late Show with David Letterman, CBS
Monday, November 16: Wyclef Jean [pictured] with Cyndi Lauper (No doubt they’ll perform “Slumdog Millionaire” off Wyclef’s new album, From the Hut, To the Projects, To the Mansion.)
Tuesday, November 17: the Script
Wednesday, November 18: Ray Davies
Thursday, November 19: John Mayer
Friday, November 20: Lyle Lovett

The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien, NBC
Monday, November 16: Carrie Underwood
Tuesday, November 17: 50 Cent
Wednesday, November 18: the Brian Setzer Orchestra
Thursday, November 19: Leona Lewis
Friday, November 20: Bon Jovi Read the rest of this entry »

It didn’t matter that she played to a crowd of 225, slightly more than a half-full house at the Capitol Theater in Clearwater — Laura Izibor comported herself as a star Saturday night. She danced, she strutted, she belted out her neo-soul tunes with thorough conviction. And she smiled. Beamed, actually. The 22-year-old Irish artist displayed an easy charisma during her Bay area debut, part of her first American tour. She told stories (in an adorable brogue) to set up the tunes, offered profuse thanks after each, and, it’s safe to say, charmed everyone in the audience. [Photo by Jeff O'Kelley.]

Like Corinne Bailey Rae, Alicia Keys and artist of that ilk, Izibor — the Dublin-bred daughter of an Irish mother and Nigerian father — makes music that blends contemporary R&B stylings with old-school principles of songcraft and musicianship.

Izibor was backed by a versatile quartet — drummer, bassist, keyboardist and trumpeter — and played her own keyboard for about half the show. After the band warmed up with a groove, she took the stage with supreme exuberance, clad in a leopard print top and black latex pants that looked to be sprayed on. Her trademark big Afro was accentuated by a headband.

While Izibor issued a very winning performance Saturday night, she could use some seasoning. Her voice is powerful and brassy, and thus every song ended with a towering crescendo. She’s clearly more comfortable with the big, showy gesture, and she would do well over time to develop a sense of introspection on stage. I’m not talking Billie Holiday, but some added nuance would help. Read the rest of this entry »

“mc chris” does not capitalize his handle. Googling him, I found he is pretty adamant about it. He also doesn’t even capitalize song titles. [Photo courtesy of mc chris' myspace.]

Whereas some bands put on lackluster performances and call their concerts “shows” for the sake of monosyllabic brevity, I Fight Dragons put on a spectacle of a performance worthy of the term “show.”

The band started off as any good mixtape should — with a fast paced, hit-‘em-with-the-best-you-got opener, “Don’t You.” The song set the tone by showing the band’s appreciation of musicianship as well as showmanship.

As clips from Metroid and Super Mario Bros. were projected on the wall behind them, I Fight Dragons showed they could write catchy pop songs with selections like “No One Likes Superman Anymore.” On “The Faster the Treadmill…,” the band sounded surprisingly like Owen, a side project of Mike Kinsella with similar electronic noodling and emotional lyrics. Read the rest of this entry »