Austin360 blogs > ACL Festival > Archives > 2006 > September > 16
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Massive Attack
Massive Attack was the definition of calm and collected class in a moment of would-be band crisis.
The Bristol, England, band brought its sonic landscape of ethereal trip-hop to ACL’s AT&T Stage for a headlining slot that was nothing short of spectacular. The set was even heroic considering that the band only appeared as half of its core.
The act typically performs with Robert del Naja (3D) and Grant “Daddy G” Marshall, as well as a revolving cast of musicians, DJs and collaborators. Early in the set, 3D announced that Marshall would be missing the show because he had provided the only legitimate excuse for missing a gig: His wife gave birth to a baby last night.
“I’d like to introduce an angel named Elizabeth,” said 3D, inciting applause from die-hard fans as former Cocteau Twins chanteuse Elizabeth Fraser emerged from a shadowy stage right.
Fraser hasn’t performed in Austin — or much at all in the United States — in years, although Massive Attack was able to convince her to accompany it stateside for this year’s Coachella festival. Fans close enough to the front of the stage — or the fans who could decipher her image in the gigantic screen — were seemingly the only audience members able to determine for sure Fraiser’s rare appearance.
Massive Attack played an inspired set. A massive highlight was the emotive Fraser classic, “Teardrops.” The band pleased tens of thousand of festival patrons who were either in the know on some of the innovators of electronic music or are from Texas and have seen Willie Nelson headline a show in Austin multiple times before.
Fraser emerged in flowing, pale white clothes, appearing just as as angelic as 3D had described, and made multiple more appearances to sing all af her now famous tracks from Massive Attack’s classic electronica/trip-hop album, “Mezzanine.”
(photo by Ricardo Brazziell AMERICAN-STATESMAN)
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Willie Nelson
It’s the old forest-for-the-trees conundrum: Having seen Willie Nelson hundreds of times over the years, it’s hard for me to put myself in the shoes of the first-time visitor to Austin, standing in the heart of the city under the open skies and watching Willie Nelson kick off “Whiskey River” in front of that billowing two-story Texas flag.
If there is a more purely iconic moment in the pantheon of Lone Star experiences, I am unaware of it, and for some folks (including that hypothetical young visitor), it will remain the signature moment of this year’s ACL festival.
It’s possible to argue that without Nelson (making his first appearance at the festival), Zilker Park would be devoted to soccer and sunbathing this weekend. His appearance on the pilot episode of “Austin City Limits” ensured that PBS would commit to turning the show into what has become the longest-running music program in television history. And without that show and the worldwide name recognition it achieved for the city and its music scene, the ACL festival might have remained merely a gleam in someone’s eye.
Although the novelty of seeing Nelson perform has long since evaporated, the pleasure derived from the experience never stales. The classic canon is as bulletproof as it is possible for pop music to be. Nelson’s guitar playing — now that he is on the back side of carpal tunnel surgery — remains a supple, unpredictable, virtuosic marvel (and it’s astonishing how seldom his unique guitar mastery is mentioned in reviews). His rapport with his audience, from toddlers to skateboard punks to grandmothers, is the envy of Bible-thumping preachers and glad-handing politicians.
This particular performance was notable, however, for that rarest of sightings — not one, but two new songs. Now that he doesn’t have to write to put food on the table, new compositions are few and far between. But the new tunes, a wry, jazzy number called (I think) “I’m Not Superman” and what sounded like a mea culpa to a cheesed-off spouse titled “You Don’t Think I’m Funny Anymore” demonstrated that, although the creative machinery may lie largely idle, it’s not rusty.
Although he was slated to play for an hour, that amounts to little more than a good sound check for Nelson and his Family Band. An hour and a half and 25 songs later, he finally left the stage to (go figure) “Roll Out the Barrel.”
“The gang’s all here,” he sang in wrapping the song up as the crowd roared in agreement. And that was a fine moment, too.
(photo by Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN)
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Iron & Wine
Sometime when his original, indie nerd fan base wasn’t looking, Sam Beam, aka Iron & Wine, moved from the deeply intimate, lo-fi singer-songwriter, home-recorded folk gorgeousness to, well, becoming something that sounds awfully close to a jam band.
Know this: It’s working almost brilliantly.
Too many jam bands prize instrumental virtuosity and rhythms that drift from “backbeat” to “meander” over chewy songwriting. (There’s a reason that some of the Grateful Dead’s strongest material was Dylan covers.) Beam has avoided this by starting with songcraft and blowing it out, adding percussion, electric guitars, throbbing, soulful electric bass and large caliber rock drumming. It’s more Neil Young than Phish, and that makes all the difference.
Opening his Saturday night set on the Heineken Stage with the acoustic “Sodom, South Georgia” as a duet with his sister/backup singer/violinist, Beam quickly moved to electric material, offering often radical rethinks of some of his indie classics. “Woman King,” already possessed of a tough polyrhythmic groove, roared to life in the six-piece band’s hands, a juggernaut of sword-in-hand feminism, Beam’s whisper occasionally breaking into full throated singing — big swing, big beat and Beam’s big beard all in full effect.
But “Upwards over the Mountain,” a son-to-mother plea for understanding capable of reducing cynical men to tears in its original form, suffered slightly from its rural electrification. Its new arrangement is powerful and well-designed, but nowhere near as intimate. It was hard to tell whether other songs were reboots or new material, although, either way, the crowd loved them.
He was wise to close with a sure-fire crowd pleaser, the nine-minute acoustic epic “The Trapeze Swinger” from the movie “In Good Company.” As Beam and his sister played, it was clear that the new Beam was pretty much the same as the old Beam. As I recall, some guy named Dylan made this move work pretty well, too.
(photo by Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN)
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The Raconteurs
One of the most anticipated sets of this ACL fest had to be that of the Raconteurs, the Jack White-Brendan Benson project that threatens to overtake White’s other band, the White Stripes, in popularity. And the musicians didn’t mess around —- they got right down to it, delivering chunky rock and hard-core blues with one song after another from their only album, “Broken Boy Soldiers.”
Starting out with some guitar wanking, they dove into “Intimate Secretary” and then offered another meaty guitar jam on “Level” before jumping into the hit “Steady, As She Goes” (which sounds like it owes a debt —- or maybe royalties —- to Joe Jackson for “Is She Really Going Out With Him”). It’s a cool rocker from guys who are really good at grinding it out as hard as they can. Benson and White have well-matched voices, and they’ve chosen a serious rhythm section with the Greenhornes’ duo of drummer Patrick Keeler and bassist Jack Lawrence, who streaked the part of his coal-black hair with lightning yellow. (They also brought along auxiliary keyboardist Dean Fertita to fill in Benson’s parts.)
The quintet delivered a delicious surprise with a cover of Sonny & Cher’s “Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down).” Sounding kind of Cher-ish, White rung every ounce of quivery emotion and drama he could out of his voice before nearly screaming himself hoarse on the next song, “Broken Boy Soldier,” and jumping with Benson into a long, guitars-wailing blues jam on “Blue Veins.” One of the set’s many highlights, it proved you can take the red pants off of a White Stripe and let him rock out all he wants, but he’s still really a blues boy at heart.
(photo by Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN)
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What Made Milwaukee Famous
Austin (not Milwaukee’s) What Made Milwaukee Famous —- vocalist/guitarist/keyboardist Michael Kingcaid, guitarist/keyboardist Drew Patrizi, bassist John Farmer and drummer Jeremy Bruch —- has every little rock ‘n’ roll duck that a band needs to thrive lined up in a row.
Except for an over-the-top live show.
They’ve got the well-crafted songs, they’ve got a singer in Kincaid who can croon and coo like a bird, and they’ve got a rock-solid rhythm section between Farmer and Brush. Unfortunately, the band’s late-afternoon ACL set on the Austin Ventures Stage was too routine and a touch too conventional for the expansive Zilker Park setting.
While several bands broke past the festival prosceniums to gain a closer connection with the audience, WMMF kept using their between-song banter to lure the audience to their autograph session in the Waterloo Records tent.
Despite all the band’s courting, the set highlights included the Beatles-esque bounce of “Sweet Lady” and the Who-inspired keyboard arpeggios vs. guitar rock of “Idecide.”
WMMF is a great band with an original spin on indie rock that should take them very far. Now let’s see whether its ACL performance, and its slew of touring to come, yields its stage show to be less of a paint-by-numbers affair.
(photo by Ricardo Brazziell AMERICAN-STATESMAN)
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Guy Clark
Guy Clark received a tumultuous welcome when he stepped onto the Washington Mutual Stage on Saturday afternoon —- courtesy of an audience that rose to its feet on the second song and never sat down.
All in all, his show was of a piece with a thousand other Guy Clark shows —- just him, a guitar and his longtime companero Verlon Thompson to lend some harmony vocals and instrumental texture. But given his recent bout with cancer and the opportunity for listeners to preview a handful of new Clark compositions (via his forthcoming album, “Workbench Songs”), the reception he was accorded was particularly resonant.
New Guy Clark collections are as rare as radium, and “Workbench Songs” is rarer still, given that it consists almost entirely of collaborations, an unusual step for this most personal of songwriters.
Nonetheless, new tunes such as “Tornado Time In Texas,” “Magdalene” and “Cinco de Mayo In Memphis” bear the stamp of Clark’s individualistic craftsmanship. To say they don’t write ’em like Clark writes ’em anymore is a misnomer. Songwriting at his elevated level is still possible if writers care to apply his exacting standards. It’s hard work (just stare at a blank sheet of paper until small drops of blood appear on your forehead), but Clark never lets you see him sweat.
(photo by Ricardo Braziell AMERICAN-STATESMAN)
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TV on the Radio
As the old saying goes, where you stood on TV on the Radio’s Saturday afternoon set on the Austin Ventures Stage depended quite literally on where you sat. On either side of the stage, the sound was muddled, thin, lacking in the detail necessary for the band’s songs to work, filled as they are with shakers, hand percussion and the wind chimes that David Sitek occasionally stuck on the end of his guitar.
But plenty of folks in the vast crowd out front seemed blown away by the Brooklyn avant-rockers. The sound was dominated by Sitek’s sheets-of-fuzz guitar, and there is no question that singer Tunde Adebimpe is a brilliant frontman. His left arm flying out from his side, making loops in the air or tugging at his hair, Adebimpe skittered around the stage, breathing blood and fire into “The Wrong Way” and “Dreams.” The title track to the band’s classic “Young Liars” EP was the set’s most explosive moment — thunderous and soulful in equal measure.
But weirdly monochromatic. For a band whose records revel in nuance and detail, I have yet to see it truly deliver that live. It was a strong set, but one keeps hoping for more from a band that at times seems absolutely ready to embody much about its age.
(photo by Ricardo Brazziell AMERICAN-STATESMAN)
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The Shins
By the time the Shins took the AT&T Stage at 5:30 p.m. Saturday, the park was really, really crowded —- so crowded that the AT&T audience reached almost to the Heineken Stage. Forget trying to negotiate your way through with anything resembling speed. Which is why I caught only part of the Albuquerque-originated band’s set.
Not that I missed much. The sound seemed unusually muddy, and their chimey alterna-pop seemed unusually uninspiring. They’ve done better in the past, including a Stubb’s show a year or two ago. But they did command some attention with a new song that they invited everyone to shoot on cameras and cell phones and upload onto their Web site so they could turn the footage into a video. So you may see a reporter’s notes —- and a shot taken through binoculars —- in an upcoming Shins video. Clever.
To be fair, there was plenty of sweet melody emanating from the stage, including songs with titles like “Kissing the Lipless” and “So Says I.” Maybe it was the heat — they were wearing mostly long-sleeved black shirts —- or the knowledge that they were playing on a stage bloodied earlier by Ben Kweller and about to be filled by the Raconteurs (or maybe they wanted to see the String Cheese Incident), but the Shins weren’t an ACL highlight.
Not everyone can be, however. Some bands just have to provide some steady entertainment between the bigger acts, and they certainly did that.
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Elvis Perkins
“I wanna hear one song to see if he’s whiny.”
That was the sentiment of at least one skeptic who queued up in front of the BMI Stage to hear singer-songwriter Elvis Perkins. I didn’t know much more about Perkins than the anonymous listener — mostly that he was the child of famous parents who died under unrelated but tragic circumstances and that he had won props for his debut album, “Ash Wednesday.” “Intense mourning and profound beauty,” observed one scribe.
So, OK. Nine songs later, the verdict was “Whiny? No.” But somber? You betcha. With song titles like “1-2-3 Goodbye” and “Doomsday” and lyrics like “I love you more in death/than I ever did in life” and “Black is the color of a strangled rainbow/just the color of my blood,” Perkins did not offer the hand-holding first-date set of the festival.
Perkins himself seemed blithe and outgoing onstage, but his material was made even darker by his oddly affectless voice, which had the effect of creating a certain detachment from his subject matter (some difficulty keeping on pitch didn’t help). With harmonium, marching band bass drum and trombone, his band, Dearland, had lots of musical colors to leaven Perkins’ stygian themes, and did so, particularly on “Doomsday” and “While You Were Sleeping.” But for this observer, Perkins remains an acquired taste. The skeptic wondering about Perkins’ whiny quotient? She stayed until the final notes.
(photo by Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN)
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Marah
“Out here in the fields …”
The rule for festival sets should be that each act has to play at least one cover. Something for casual listeners to grab ahold of. The Philadelphia rockers of Marah were tooling away quite splendidly Saturday, turning noon into midnight with the rompish triple-guitar pop of “Round Eye Blues” and such, but then they launched their show into the stratosphere by inserting the Who’s “Baba O’Riley” into “Feather Boa.”
Suddenly, a good set became tremendous. When brothers David and Serge Bielanko slid into the crowd to play guitar and harmonica, respectively, on “Dishwasher’s Blues,” which they dedicated to Townes Van Zandt, the jubilation was like good sweat. The band played the theme to “Rocky” when it came onstage and delivered one heck of a left hook.
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Ian McLagan & the Bump Band
Ian McLagan made an incredible announcement midway through his Saturday afternoon set at ACL: his Austin-based Bump Band will be opening for the Rolling Stones at Zilker Park on Oct. 22.
But as the four-piece band, led by McLagan’s “Fingers of God” organ blasts, proved, it deserves the coveted slot. Mac and the Bumpers came out swinging, with “You’re Secret” sounding very much like the Faces of old, and they let up only slightly on a country number, “Wrong Direction,” which didn’t work in the sweltering sauna that was the Washington Mutual Stage.
“Spiritual Babe,” dedicated to ol’ mate Ronnie Lane, got this downhill train back on track, with drummer Don Harvey and bassist Mark Andes proving sturdy and tight while guitarist Scrappy Jud laid down low, fat riffs. Another standout was “Little Girl,” a meat and potatoes rocker that got plenty of spice with McLagan’s increasingly interesting vocals.
The eternal sideman has found his voice. Near the end was “What You Gonna Do About It,” a British Invasion classic from Small Faces, that finally got the heat-stifled audience moving. What a treat for our out-of-town friends to witness our own slice of Brit rock royalty. That Ian McLagan wasn’t booked during the previous four ACL fests was a mistake rectified in about 50 minutes of pure pub rock glee.
(photo by Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN)
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The Secret Machines
New York via Dallas’ the Secret Machines have finally redeemed themselves in Austin.
During SXSW in March, the Machines —- bassist/vocalist Brandon Curtis, guitarist Ben Curtis and drummer Josh Garza —- had the unfortunate luck of going on late, at 1:45 a.m., and playing to a dwindling crowd of barely 100 die-hard fans.
At their 3:30 p.m. Heineken Stage set, the Machines finally pulled off a flawless Austin performance to thousands upon thousands of locals and out-of-towners alike.
Composed of former members of Tripping Daisy and UFOFU, the Machines have expanded on their prog rock-meets-psychedelic pop sound by reducing the running times of their songs. The band performed the majority of its 2006 release “Ten Silver Drops” with enthusiastic verve, including the single “Alone, Jealous and Stoned.”
Brandon Curtis seemed quite at ease as he rocked out by swinging in circles, even working in some Pete Townshend-esque guitar-versus-extended-arm theatrics.
“Lightning Blue Eyes” received a great reception from the sun-drenched audience. The song displayed what the Machines do best: It leaves their heavy Flaming Lips and British shoegazer influence behind and carves out more of a unique sonic landscape — one that is still sprawling but maintains a pop sensibility within the catchy choruses.
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They keep getting younger
Matt Costa and G. Love played unannounced sets at the Austin Kiddie Limits Stage on Saturday afternoon. Which makes more sense than one might first think, as both contributed tracks to the “Curious George” soundtrack. The kiddies seemed to love it.
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ACL noise abatement
Austin police officers were making their usual rounds, keeping ACL festival patrons safe at Zilker Park, but today, they had their decibel machines to ensure the safety of everyone’s ears.
An officer who asked not to be identified said, “As long as the (soundmen) are working with us, we’ll be all right.”
When the officer took multiple readings during the Secret Machine’ Heineken Stage set, his meter reading was peaking way past 100 decibels at a little over 100 feet from the stage.
“The city ordinance says that they are not supposed to exceed 85 (decibels),” the officer said. “Right now, they are way past that. The readings just depend on the type of instruments that are being used, whether it’s a guitar or not, and the way the wind is blowing. After 10 p.m., they are not to exceed 80 (decibels).
“The best we can do is just try to manage it,” he said.
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Bleeding stops Kweller
Poor Ben Kweller. Just before he came onstage, he got a double nosebleed, delaying his Saturday AT&T Stage set for 10 minutes. And it didn’t stop once he started performing. Grabbing a towel, the Texas-raised 25-year-old declared, “I feel like Nolan Ryan” (after the baseball player’s famous ball smack to the face), and promised, “I’ll do this until it gets too disgusting.”
“If you don’t care, I don’t care,” he added. “I’m not gonna bleed to death in front of you.”
It quickly became apparent that the situation was a little more serious than he originally thought. After playing a couple of rockin’ songs (“This one’s called ‘Run,’ ” he announced. “Talk about running!”) and thoroughly splattering his guitar with blood — while managing to prove how adept he is at using it — he even employed a female sanitary product to try to stop the flow.
As the band went from laughter to looks of concern, Kweller moved to the piano and played a pretty, poppy tune called “Falling” before saying, “Ladies and gentlemen, I think that’s all I can take, you guys. I’m really sorry. They say that Austin is the allergy capital of the world, but I never believed ‘em.”
His fans appeared disappointed, but he clearly had tried his best, proving to be a real trouper. And he promised he’d be back to make it up to them.
(photo by Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN)
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Galactic
Just as at this year’s South By Southwest Music Festival, audiences at ACL have embraced musicians from New Orleans with a special warmth. That certainly proved to be the case with Galactic, the quintet that has taken the Crescent City’s brass band and funk traditions into the 21st century.
Fans at the AMD Stage saw a new incarnation of the band. Its last release, “Ruckus,” came out in 2003, and its vocalist departed the group the next year. Since then, Galactic has reconstituted itself as an instrumental ensemble.
The lack of a frontman hardly seemed to matter. Saxophonist Ben Ellman, guitarist Jeff Raines and keyboardist Richard Vogel kept up a witty, ever-evolving dialogue through songs such as “Moil,” “Shibuya” and the ironically-titled “FEMA” while bassist Robert Mercurio and drummer Stanton Moore held down the bottom.
Like all the best New Orleans musicians, the group’s members manage to hit with a crunch, but still swing, as evidenced by their two covers, funkified versions of Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song” (they used to perform “When the Levee Breaks,” but perhaps that hits a bit too close to home these days) and “Manic Depression.”
Heretofore, the band has gone out of its way to welcome guest musicians onstage, and its ACL set was no exception; Leo Nocentelli, the guitarist for the Meters (Galactic’s central influence) hopped onstage for a pair of tunes, including an appropriately funked-up rendition of the Meters’ “Africa.”
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Ghostland Observatory
Austin’s most beloved electronica/dance band, Ghostland Observatory, is lit to pop, and its Heineken Stage performance was like a sonic countdown on its liftoff to stardom. The duo —- multi-instrumentalist Thomas Turner and vocalist/guitarist Aaron Behrens —- are the underground darlings of Austin. And after the band’s 1:30 p.m. spot-on performance at Zilker Park, it’s guaranteed that it made thousands of new fans, too.
Ghostland’s ACL performance was a thing of beauty under a blistering sun. Clad in a baby-blue Dracula cape, with a hand-stitched iron cross on the back, Turner had on his game face as he created the danceable blips, beeps, squeals and shrieks from his multiple keyboards and synthesizers.
Behrens looked like … well, he actually looked like a hip-hop version of the great Native American warrior Geronimo, dancing and writhing as Turner dropped his hot electronic beats.
One of Ghostland’s strengths, aside from Behrens’ electrifying charisma as a frontman, is its variety. One moment, Turner will be programming and cutting up beats. A second later, he will be laying them down organically as he sits behind a drum-kit. Likewise, Behrens can play creative leads on his shiny Fender Telecaster, only moments later to put it down and incite the audience to clap and dance while stalking the stage.
“Sad Sad City” and “Ghetto Magnet” were audience favorites. But truth be told, there wasn’t a song that the audience didn’t love. The simplicity of Ghostland’s dual instrument-attack and one-voice playing in unison sounded amazing compared with the mish-mush mixes of some of the larger ensemble bands.
Ghostland passed the big stage/outdoor festival test with psychedelically electronic colors.
“I don’t want to leave this stage,” Behrens said as he smiled and waved to the audience. “We’re enjoying ourselves so much.”
And now it looks like now that more than just Austinites love Ghostland.
(photo by Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN)
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Frederico Aubele
Another cute young guy with a mess of curly hair, Argentina’s Frederico Aubele has a pleasant voice for making sexy mood music. Like the best light, laid-back reggae-influenced music, it doesn’t require knowledge of the language — just a lack of resistance to the beat and a willingness to groove to the tropical flavor.
With a five-piece band that included a lovely female vocalist and local boy David Boyle (who works with Bebel Gilberto — and the Scabs) on keyboards, Aubele inspired some early-afternoon tangoing (with a 40-year-old tango and the set-closer “Contingo”) Saturday on the AMD stage at ACL fest. A soft breeze made it nearly perfect. A chaise lounge, a beach and a mojito would have sent it over the top.
(photo by Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN)
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Why kids at ACL?
Despite the fact that ACL fest advertises the child-friendly “Austin Kiddie Limits” area and lets kids younger than 10 in for free, the question has to be asked: What possesses parents to bring small children — and strollers and have-to-be-hot strap-on baby-carriers and the whole arsenal of equipment that goes along with kids — to a daylong endurance test of a rock festival in near-100-degree heat?
According to North Austin’s Daniel Malinowski and Diana Damer, parents of 3-year-old Dylan Canyon (yes, he has his own last name), it was because they couldn’t find a baby-sitter.
“It’s a terrible place to be a kid,” Malinowski admitted as his tot tumbled into and out of his arms. The couple said the day was “a little too difficult to enjoy” with him, even though they’d already had prior experience: They also brought him for a day two years ago, when he was 1. They said they didn’t bring ear mufflers or earplugs for him - a precaution most parents seemed to disregard, unfortunately for their children - but they stayed far away from loud stages.
“We spend our whole time standing in food lines,” Damer reported. No wonder. Lines stretched nearly into the middle of the park and waits at dinner time looked to be about 45 minutes – the set length of a band you might have to miss in order to eat at this crowded event.
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