Daily Loaf

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.

Read the rest of this entry »

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.

Estimated value: $100

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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.

Suggested opening bid: $75

Place your bid below:

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: $100

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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.

Current High Bid: $400.99

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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 »

This Friday at the 21st edition of Ribfest, JET proved once and for all that they are no longer a garage rock band but full-fledged rock ‘n’ roll professionals.

The Aussies headlined opening night of the three-day waterside barbeque at Vinoy Park, wordlessly hitting the stage in T-shirts and jeans, kicking off their set with the chart topping “Cold Hard Bitch,” and generally pumping up a crowd of both diehard JET fans and spectators simply there to enjoy a side of music with their racks of ribs.

After “Bitch,” lead singer Nic Cester (third from left) thanked the audience with a boyish grin and asked, “Alright, people, how ya doin’!?” And we were doin’ good, because we knew we were about to be treated to some more of JET’s classic-rock inspired music. Read the rest of this entry »

Wanna bet?

Las Vegas sports books have been taking a bath lately and I don’t mean comfortably inside a lavish Bellagio hot tub. Weeks ago, Vegas reported its biggest losses in years. The reason? The disparity between the haves and the have-nots in the NFL is so broad that when these teams play each other, bookmakers can’t set the lines big enough for gamblers to bet on the underdogs.

In the NFL, a 14-17 point spread generally indicates one team is significantly better the other. But even with lines that high, the stronger team has still been covering the number.

Read the rest of this entry »

Does Friday the 13th equal a freaky news day in the music world? Find out here.

The Who are scheduled to perform at Super Bowl XLIV, which will be held Feb. 7, 2010, in Miami. This will be the band’s first North American performance since 2008. The biggest night in pro football and the Who? My dad (and probably yours, too) can now die happy. (But let’s hope they don’t! Die now, that is.)

With absolutely no idea of what to expect, I headed into the Orpheum this past Thursday night to see Captured by Robots. Now, truthfully, I did take a few minutes to check out the band’s website so I could prepare myself for the performance, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

Taking the stage in chains, a leather bondage mask with protruding eyeballs and disemboweled entrails hanging from a bloody t-shirt, robot abductee JBOT conducted his Teddy Bear Orchestra while whipping the crowd into a motivationally-charged frenzy. In addition to JBOT, the band consists of GTRBOT66 (who plays a double-neck Flying V), percussionist AUTOMATON, drummer DRMBOT0110, The Headless Hornsmen, The Ape Which Hath No Name and finally Son of Ape Which Hath No Name.  Bear in mind that JBOT is the only living creature on the stage; the rest are “real” robots. The band’s set consisted of 80’s rock and pop covers, including a decent rendition of Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run.” As for JBOT himself, he was kind of like a cross between Andy Kaufman, Jim Henson and Dale Carnegie. Believe me, it’s a frightening combination. Read the rest of this entry »

A quick breakdown of this weekend’s most worthy concerts beginning with Thursday, ’cause that’s when the weekend really starts, right? For a more comprehensive schedule of concerts, check out our Upcoming Events page.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 12
Pete Yorn [pictured] I’m an admitted fan of Pete Yorn’s 2001 debut, musicforthemorningafter. It’s full of alt pop gems like “Life on a Chain,” “For Nancy (‘Cos It Already Is),” and “Strange Condition,” the last featured on such romantic comedies soundtracks as Me, Myself & Irene, 40 Days and 40 Nights and The Sweetest Thing. The Jersey-based singer-songwriter has released four more albums since then, including his latest, Break Up, a collaborative concept album recorded with actress-singer Scarlett Johansson and inspired by Serge Gainsbourg’s duets with Brigitte Bardot. Yorn performs solo at this Bay area appearance. 9 p.m.,Push Ultra Lounge, St. Petersburg, $17.50.

Captured by Robots A one-human comedy-experimental rock act, JBOT (Jay Vance, actor, comic and former bassist for ska punk bands Blue Meanies and Skankin’ Pickle), is backed/enslaved by inhuman (robot, ape and ambiguous) players: DRMBOT 0110, a severed doll’s head on drums, assistant drummer AUTOMATOM, GTRBOT666 on bass and guitar, The Ape Which Hath No Name on tambourine halo, The Son of the Ape Which Hath No Name on monkey cymbals, and on horns, despite missing the parts that conduct air, the Headless Hornsmen. 7 p.m., Orpheum, Ybor City, $8 advance/$10 DOS.

Home w/Flexxehawk/Insect Joy NYC-by-way-of-Tampa experimental pop quartet Home return to the Bay area with their whimsical psychedelic sounds in tow. The band has self-released 15 albums since 1992 – seven cassettes, one 8-track, an internet-only download, and five CDs; Relativity Records put out the band’s sole major label release, IX, in 1995. 9 p.m.,  New World Brewery, Ybor City, $7. Read the rest of this entry »

Last year, Bradenton-based quintet Have Gun, Will Travel caught the attention of NPR with their stylistic and thematic take on Old West-flavored Americana in Casting Shadows Tall as Giants, their sophomore full-length.

The band’s self-released third effort, Postcards from the Friendly City (out Nov. 17) maintains the dusty trailblazing charm of its predecessor with rambling melodies, rustic musical textures — banjo, lap steel and acoustic guitar, viola, harmonica, percussive frills from cowbell to shakers — and the vivid storytelling of lead singer/songwriter Matt Burke, his lyricism continuing to draw from different moods of times long past.

The pervading call of crickets and other rural evening sounds open the ominous “Wolf in Shepard’s Clothes” as the underlings of a toxic leader plan a revolution: “We got the number while the captain slumbered, and we’re gonna cut him down.” Read the rest of this entry »

Chris Wollard & The Ship Thieves made their Tampa debut at Crowbar this past Friday, November 6, with support from Mike Hale and How Dare You.

Read the rest of this entry »

The Swell Season was originally the name of Irish vocalist/guitarist Glen Hansard and Czech vocalist/pianist Markéta Irglová’s first album, released in 2006.  The duo now refers to themselves as The Swell Season, the name taken from humanist Josef škvorecký’s 1975 novel of the same name — Glen’s favorite novel.

The initial success of the one-time romantically linked couple (they split in 2009) came after they co-starred in the 2007 Irish film, Once. Glen played a Dublin street performer to Markéta’s immigrant street vendor.  The film was shown at Sundance in 2007 where it won the World Cinema Audience Award. Incidentally, Once was written and directed by John Carney, former bass player in Glen’s old band, The Frames.  It’s a beautiful film; you should check it out. Read the rest of this entry »

Routes Music is a documentary film acting as a roving music census, taking in the true musical passions (and disgusts) of the American people. We’re traveling all across the country, stopping along the way to interview local bands, take footage of live performances and chat with anyone and everyone. Learn more about the documentary here; check out all previous entries here.

We met Mushroom Montoya in Long Beach after a long, hard day on Malibu Beach. A practicing “modern shaman” for nearly three decades, Montoya views music as more than entertainment: he uses it for healing the mind, body and spirit. His tools are the drum and the didgeridoo, a hollowed-out pole that, when blown into, sounds like a nest of idle bees. Montoya’s choice of the didgeridoo is no accident; the instrument is said to be man’s first wind instrument dating back thousands of years. Aboriginal shamans in Australia used the didgeridoo in their own rituals and ceremonies.

Well, it just so happened that Phil was complaining of congestion, so Montoya took out one of his three didgeridoos to help clear our crew member’s sinuses. Watch the video below: Read the rest of this entry »

Meet NYC resident and frontman of The Strokes, Julian Casablancas. On his solo debut, Phrazes For The Young, he has replaced all your expectations with synths straight out of 1984. Listen closely. Pop waves too polished to be considered prog echo shades of Duran Duran’s “Rio,” Madonna’s “Borderline” and “Let’s Go Crazy” by Prince. Within this palette of ’80s-style synths, a secretly danceable album bubbles up. Nagging speculation about how the songs would sound if guitars replaced the shiny textures, or if some feedback and grime were swapped for the forlorn tropical vibe glistening across “11^th Dimension” and “Glass,” is senseless and unnecessary, for solo albums serve as outlets to indulge those musical urges normally suppressed by a group dynamic.

Take “4 Chords of the Apocalypse.” The song’s slowed-down tempo makes it feel really out of place to Strokes fans, a knee jerk reaction and possible obstacle for those expecting another “Last Nite” because the track celebrates the despondency of Otis Redding and Solomon Burke-era soul, and not the dissonance and recklessness of CBGB. Read the rest of this entry »

Photos by Eric Snider

“This didn’t have to happen,” says Rob Douglas, his 6-foot-4 frame slouched on a sofa in his south St. Pete condo, his raspy voice weary and tinged with bitterness. He’s a linchpin of the St. Petersburg concert scene, his tenure as a promoter, venue operator and production manager dating back to the early ’80s, when shows were put on by enterprising locals rather than megacorporations. He spent 25 years working at Jannus Landing, one of the Bay area’s most beloved concert venues, until August when he severed ties with the downtown St. Pete institution. Douglas, 54, had reached the end of his tether with then-owner Jack Bodziak. “Even with the wreckage of the economy, we could have survived this,” Douglas says. “It was due to piss-poor stewardship.”

When he spoke those words in late October, Jannus Landing had been empty for most of the prior three months, its last show having been the execrable Insane Clown Posse on Oct. 9. Several scheduled concerts had relocated to other venues, most to the Ritz Ybor. Bodziak was beset by financial and legal problems, the most glaring of which was his arrest by state agents in May on charges that he failed to pay more than $200,000 in sales tax on revenues from Jannus Landing. He also owed a reported $160,000 in back rent and faced eviction. A new guy, Jeff Knight, waited in the wings, a well-heeled businessman with grandiose plans and no experience in the concert business. Read the rest of this entry »

4:30 p.m. – Yin

Driving into the parking lot of Ruth Eckerd Hall this past Friday for a late afternoon “meet & greet” with blues/rock guitarist Joe Bonamassa, I wasn’t really sure what to expect. Admittedly, I wasn’t that familiar with his work and I felt a bit unprepared. Beyond recent media blips about his appearance at the Royal Albert Hall, and some hasty Internet research, I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t have a single intelligent thing to ask. I resigned myself to keeping my mouth shut and taking pictures.

As I waited in the Green Room at REH with about a dozen avid fans, I noticed they’d come prepared. Most had tickets, t-shirts or magazines ready for an autograph, while one guy even clutched a limited edition Joe Bonamassa Gibson Les Paul in a case that looked as though it had never been opened. I wondered if spending nearly his entire life in the public eye would make Joe one of those rock stars who take all of the attention in stride or if it had made him intolerant of rabid fans, autograph seekers and the media. Since I wasn’t sure which way it would go, I slid my camera backpack around to the front, in order to block any crazed, Britney-like attacks on the paparazzi that might be forthcoming. Read the rest of this entry »

Routes Music is a documentary film acting as a roving music census, taking in the true musical passions (and disgusts) of the American people. We’re traveling all across the country, stopping along the way to interview local bands, take footage of live performances and chat with anyone and everyone. Learn more about the documentary here; check out all previous entries here.

As we approached Phoenix, the Routes Music crew heard news reports about a cold front that was bringing high winds into the desert and creating a mighty dust storm as a result. But not until we stepped out of the car in Tempe did we really see what the newscasters meant.

From the west, a faint haze grew darker and darker as it approached. The dust storm was roaring across the desert like a scene out of The Mummy.

But the desert sands weren’t the only thing in disarray: Phil and Terrence were having problems of their own.

The previous night, they’d driven 16 hours straight through the ever-changing terrain of Texas and New Mexico. At one point, border patrol stopped the van to check for illegal immigrants. (“Really?” Phil still comments whenever the subject’s brought up. “I could maybe understand if we were headed to Mexico, but in the middle of this country?”) Read the rest of this entry »

Your enjoyment of Raditude is entirely dependent on your feelings about Weezer’s brand of pop music — sing-a-longs, whoa-OH choruses, and inane lyrics that you can’t get seem to get out of your head.

Lead singer-songwriter Rivers Cuomo seems to have given up on writing the sort of lyrics he did back on Pinkerton, an album cherished by many Weezer fans for its self-reflective, interesting verses. Now, listeners are stuck with songs that come off as jokes.

Take “Can’t Stop Partyin’,” which features the studio work of well-known hip-hop producer Jermaine Dupri (Jay-Z, Usher) and guest vocals by, of all people, NOLA rap artist Lil Wayne. In the track, Cuomo sings about how much he loves Patrón and jewels, pretty girls and “bottles of the Goose.” It’s hard to reconcile the lyrics with their creator, a skinny, nerdy Harvard English graduate. The opening single, “(If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To,” is similarly simple-minded and features such oy-inducing lyrics as “I swear it’s true / without you / my heart is blue.” Read the rest of this entry »

Ritz Ybor’s website boasts a capacity of 1,150 for its concert hall. I would call that a conservative estimate for Brand New and Thrice as I politely pushed through the throng of mostly teenage girls clogging the stairways leading to the pit. All the ”Excuse Me’s” I could muster made no difference when I bumped a girl’s flip-flopped foot and received a flat, condescending “Ow” in reply. Here’s a novel idea — don’t wear flip-flops to rock concerts and don’t stop in the middle of a stairway to watch a band. Unless you’ll permit the rest of us to pee on you instead of pushing through to the facilities.

Following a false start, Thrice (pictured right, all photos by Mike Wilson) hit the stage around eight and overcame some early technical problems to deliver a ten-song set of competent, mostly mid-tempo post-rock with intermittent lite-hardcore breakdowns. Guitarist Teppei Teranishi’s backup vocals created some pleasant harmonies with frontman Dustin Kensrue’s otherwise bland leads. Thrice didn’t perform as if very excited, and aside from a pinch of hardcore fans singing every word they elicited little more than head-bobbing from the crowd. It took a cover of “Helter Skelter” — a song that pre-dates the birth of every bandmember and most of the audience — to finally evoke some movement. “Silhouette” off their major label debut, The Artist In The Ambulance, received the best fan reaction, and enough people caught onto the “We are beggars, all” chant from their new LP’s title-track as Thrice finally forged a connection before ending their set. I heard more than a few Thrice supporters object the lack of ‘hits.’

Thankfully, Brand New (pictured below) left little room for similar complaints. (Setlists for both bands after the jump!) Read the rest of this entry »

You people out there give us
something more than just record sales.
You give us something to hate.
And we hate you,
you brainless mutants.

So begins Dethklok’s traditional closer “Fansong.” I suppose when you’re (fictionally) the world’s seventh largest economy you can take your fans for granted. After all, Dethklok represents creator Brendon Small’s metal nerd wet dreams. He creates the Metalocalypse cartoon series following the end of Home Movies‘ five-year run. He takes his cartoon metal band on increasingly successful tours with the use of touring musicians and a giant video screen. He made death metal history with the release of The Dethalbum, which temporarily became the biggest-selling debut in the genre until The Dethalbum II came along.

In reality, Dethklok exists because of its fans — socially awkward, maladjusted metalheads ignored and derided by most until Metalocalypse came along. The silly plots, vulgar characters and heavy metal parody lured not only metalheads but the rest of the weirdos that find Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim lineup funny. Dethklok also attracts an increasingly improving pedigree of support bands for its tours. This time around they bring stoner-metallers High On Fire, metalcore veterans Converge, and the incomparable Mastodon. (Setlists and videos for Mastodon and Dethklok after the jump!). Read the rest of this entry »