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Home > Austin Music Source > Archives > 2008 > March
March 2008
Musicmainia top 10 for the week ending March 30
1. Big Moe, ‘Unfinished Business’ (Koch)
2. Rick Ross, ‘Trilla’ (Def Jam)
3. Keyshia Cole, ‘Just Like You’ (Geffen)
4 . Devin, ‘Volume 1 Smoke Sessions’ (BCD)
5. Fat Joe, ‘Elephant In The Room’ (Terror Squad)
6. Day 26, ‘Day26’ (Bad Boy)
7. Danity Kane, ‘Welcome To The Dollhouse’ (Bad Boy’)
8. Webbie, ‘Volume 2 Savage Life’ (Asylum)
9. Snoop Dogg, ‘Ego Trippin’ (Geffen)
10. Soundtrack, ‘Meet The Browns’ (Atlantic)
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Roches sue Austin promoter
It’s the case of a local promoter who says she “got in way over my head” and a New York-based singing group that was guaranteed $7,500 to perform at Unitarian Universalist Church on Dec. 1. The Roches claim in a breach of contract suit filed March 12 in Travis County, that they’ve received only $200. Through their SRO Artists booking agent, the Roches are suing Sally Cooper of Austin Acoustic Series for money owed, plus attorney fees and court costs.
“I will do everything I can to pay the group, even if it means getting a second job,” Cooper said Monday. Needing to sell 250 tickets to break even, Cooper said she sold only 111 tickets to “The Roches With a Holiday Twist.” In a Dec. 6, 2007 email to SRO, however, Cooper lamented “I am painfully aware that we only sold 150 tickets” at $35 each.
“I knew I wouldn’t have the money to pay them, so I offered to cancel the show, to put it all on me,” Cooper said. She said she told the group this at 2 p.m. on the day of the show.
“They were already in Austin, so they decided to do the show on good faith,” said Jeff Laramie of Madison, Wis.-based SRO. “We were told that the money was tied up with the ticketing agency, so we gave her a Fed Ex number to send the money. We were expecting to be paid in full… And then we got two hundred dollars.” Laramie said the Roches told him that the 300-capacity venue looked about 90% full.
Cooper said almost all of the ticket money went to expenses for the concert. Another act, Seattle-based Tingstad & Rumbel, also claims to have been stiffed by Cooper in late 2006. They were guaranteed $2,500 and received a check for that amount after the performance. But manager Carol Tingstad said the check bounced. Tingstad said Cooper said she’d pay the debt in increments, but the duo has yet to see a penny.
“We like to work with smaller promoters, to help them out,” Tingstad said. “They usually eventually come through. But in 23 years of booking, we’ve never been not paid anything.”
Cooper said the Tingstad & Rumbel show was poorly attended and so she didn’t have the money to pay the group. She said she told the duo the check wouldn’t clear, but to hold onto it until she had paid the guarantee in full. “It’s being taken care of,” said Cooper, who was served papers by the Travis County attorney’s office to make good on the check.
Austin-based agent Val Denn, who booked Ray Bonneville to play the Austin Acoustic Series March 28, said her acts have always been paid in full by Cooper. “I think she made a mistake with the size of the ($7,500) guarantee with the Roches and she probably learned a big lesson,” Denn said of Cooper, whose music business experience before promoting shows was working at Camelot record stores for 11 years.
Meanwhile, the Austin Acoustic Series continues at Unitarian Universalist Church with Johnsmith on April 11 and Kate Campbell April 13.
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Questlove DJ set at Whisky Bar on Saturday
As we reported in this blog last week, the headliner for this year’s 40 Acres Fest at the University of Texas is the instrumental hip-hop powerhouse, The Roots. 40 Acres Fest is a day-long, student-run extravaganza, and it’s free and open to the general public.
However, if the campus scene isn’t quite your speed, but you’d still like to catch a little Roots action, the group’s drummer and music director Questlove will be throwing down a DJ set later on in the evening at the Whisky Bar. The party will be hosted by local MC Bavu Blakes along with Pikahsso of the excellent Dallas act PPT. Questlove is well known for his massive vinyl collection and his exemplary musical taste (not to mention his compulsive blog habit). It should be a good party full of old school funk, soul and much more. Details on the cover charge haven’t been fully nailed down yet, but word on the street says it will be somewhere around the $10 range.
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Willie Archives: McLeese’s dilemina
This great column by Don McLeese originally ran Jan. 5, 1997:
Even some of us who don’t bother to make resolutions that we know we’d break use the new year’s transitional lull as a chance to get our houses in order, to come to terms with those obligations that we’ve been postponing for way too long. To that end, I hereby promise my editors that I will finally get around to writing Willie Nelson’s obituary.
This is an assignment I’ve been dreading since it was given to me a year and a half ago. In my mind, a Texas without Willie is unimaginable, and the prospect of writing about him in the past tense, even before the fact, is more than a little creepy. So what if the calendar says that Nelson will turn 64 on April 30, and photos show the Red-Headed Stranger with a gray beard? Whether through good karma or the medicinal properties of marijuana, I fully expect Willie to live longer than I do.
Yet newspapers routinely assign appreciative obits of prominent figures well in advance. If Nelson should somehow lose his life while I put this off, I could lose my job. Thus, when a friend said that he might be touring with Nelson this summer, all I could think was, “Please, keep him alive.”
It’s tough enough to do the obit reporting at the proper time, to intrude upon private grief for public consumption. In the name of my chosen profession, I have interviewed a sobbing Buddy Guy after Stevie Ray Vaughan’s helicopter crash, called a stunned Lyle Lovett when Walter Hyatt’s plane went down and spent the evening at Second City’s “show must go on” vigil when the overdose of hometown hero John Belushi sent all of Chicago into mourning. In the aftermath of John Lennon’s murder, I was so frazzled writing a memorial section for the following day’s newspaper that I had no time to feel anything but numb.
At such times, newspapers provide a ritualistic catharsis, offering a connection through which an entire community can share its grief and ensure proper due to the deceased. When one considers how large Willie has loomed in Austin, in Texas, in the world of music and the world at large, it is hard to imagine the extraordinary outpouring that will occur when he dies.
Which is part of the problem for a writer trying to conjure the proper ex post facto spirit, while Nelson remains so very much alive. Should I start by calling his friends and asking, “When Willie dies (or if, since I’m still not entirely convinced that the man is mortal), how bad do you think you might feel?” How can I put an assessment cap on the career of an artist whose creative juices continue to flow?
It’s a dirty job, but somebody has to do it, and I can procrastinate no longer. With the tragic inevitability of Townes Van Zandt fresh in mind (and with Willie’s tender voicing of Townes’ “Pancho and Lefty” fresh in ear), I enlist your help. If you know Willie, share with me what makes him special — an enlightening incident, a funny story. If you’re a fan, share the reasons why the man and his music have meant so much to you.
And Willie, wherever you are, I’m offering you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Though it is common to fantasize about spying on one’s own funeral (if only to count the house and gauge the grief), few folks get the chance to read their obituary. In this case, I’ll not only let you read it, I’ll let you write it.
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Review: Texas night at the Long Center with Willie, Lyle and Ray Benson, among others
The last time I saw Willie Nelson, a little more than three weeks ago at the Star of Texas Rodeo, his opening acts were saddle broncs and bull riders. Dust was, let’s say, ubiquitous.
But Saturday night he returned to play the hoitiest-toitiest new honky-tonk in town: the Long Center for the Performing Arts, which was throwing a gala, weekend-long grand opening party.
Nelson was one component of an all-star Texas music evening, which saw the Red-Headed Stranger mixing it up with Lyle Lovett, Asleep At the Wheel, Flaco Jimenez and Rick Treviño.
The acoustic gem which is the Michael and Susan Dell Hall at the Long Center might seem an odd setting for twin fiddles, steel guitars and songs about drinkin’, cheatin’ and redneck bonhomie. But the show was in keeping with the Long Center’s stated mission of serving a “broad spectrum” of the arts. (Hey, next week I’m returning to the hall to see opera diva Kathleen Battle — whether she, too, will sing about whiskey remains to be seen).
“Thirty-five years ago I moved to Austin and played at the Municipal Auditorium with Ernest Tubb and Hank Thompson,” reminisced the Wheel’s Ray Benson before the band swung into “Faded Love,” “Black and White Rag” and “Big Ball’s In Cowtown.” “I knew I was in heaven,” he continued. “Thirty-five years later, we get to play in the most beautiful concert hall this town has ever seen.”
Musically, the evening was a mixed grill, with Asleep At the Wheel taking the stage first and remaining to serve as a de facto house band for the other performers. The end result was refreshing, forcing Nelson, Lovett and Treviño out of their familiar respective contexts.
Thus it was a treat to hear Nelsonian standards like “Crazy” and “Whiskey River” adorned with fiddles and steel guitar, instruments that don’t feature in Nelson’s Family Band lineup. Likewise, the Wheel musicians, abetted by a trio from Lovett’s Large Band, turned “Blues For Dixie” into a jaunty romp and hot-wired “My Baby Don’t Tolerate” into a feral, prowling blues showpiece. (Lovett’s take on “What Do You Do/The Glory of Love” — with Wheel bandleader Ray Benson taking Large Band vocalist Francine Reed’s distaff part — was a showstopper in its own right).
Nelson, Lovett and the various Wheel vocalists also harmonized on several songs, a rare treat for fans of each.
Another highlight was Ruby Jane Smith, a crackerjack 13-year-old fiddle player guest-starring with the Wheel, who jumped into the proceedings with polished gusto.
Rick Treviño, along with accordion maestro Flaco Jimenez (who seemed somewhat disjointed and disoriented) joined the festivities for a plaintive conjunto ballad, and Treviño remained onstage to sing backup to Nelson’s ever-poignant “Always On My Mind.”
The whole deal wrapped up with all 18 musicians onstage romping through Nelson’s anthem “On the Road Again.”
The road that led to the Long Center’s fruition was a long and winding one; it was only appropriate to have some hometown icons on hand to celebrate the last mile of the journey.
(Left to right, Ray Benson, Willie Nelson and Lyle Lovett perform Saturday night at the Long Center. Photo by Jay Janner/AMERICAN-STATESMAN)
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Review: Voxtrot at Emo’s
It’s been almost a year since local indie big leaguers Voxtrot played Austin (by singer Ramesh Srivastava’s account, since last May), and the group proved Friday night at Emo’s that absence can make the heart grow fonder.
Everyone missing the group’s supercharged, bouncy indie pop came out in full force and crowded under the canopy and there was plenty of talk about how they missed their musical friends. Voxtrot started things off with the infectious and explosive “Firecracker” off their self-titled full-length debut released last year, for which the band has a video on MTV. This song, as with many of the group’s, is performed live with a bit more enthusiasm and energy than the recording.
Srivastava led an easy-to-follow, dance-inducing chorus while furiously fanning at his guitar and hopping around. Another crowd favorite, “Your Biggest Fan,” off an older EP of the same name, had fists pumping to the masterful pop structure and prancing keys as Srivastava took the mike and sang out the soaring chorus with his eyes shut tight.
By the end for “The Start of Something” the band disappeared in a mob of other musicians and crowd members that had amassed on stage for this Smiths-esque, sweetly doleful tune filled with jangling guitars. A strong cast of local openers included the quirky, minimalist rock of Jennifer Moore and the rest of Yellow Fever along with the upbeat rock of Hollywood Gossip. Ringo Deathstarr brought a wall of feedback and lazy-lipped, warm vocals.
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Review: The Dirtbombs at Emo’s inside
For anyone who doesn’t remember playing with dirtbombs as a kid, they can be rough, messy and irresistibly fun. And for those who missed the show by the band of the same name Thursday night at Emo’s inside, they can be exactly the same.
It began as a deep and wild thud coming from two drummers in tune at the back of the stage. Then, one by one, the other players boarded, picking up their instruments and adding to the crude rock ’n’ roll sound. By the time this Detroit fivesome got into “Underdog” off the older and widely appreciated “Ultraglide in Black,” the crowd was wiggling about and jostling against each other like a pot full of loose noodles.
The distorted garage punk guitars combined with the powerful drumming to create a sonic battering ram. A husky, soulful rock ’n’ roll three-person chorus inspired the crowd to sing along with all the “yeah, yeah”s and pump their hands in the air. The Dirtbombs played a few older tracks, such as the cover of “Chains of Love” that recently appeared on “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” soundtrack, as well as songs from “We Have You Surrounded,” released earlier this year. On “Wreck My Flow,” one of the more popular songs from the album, singer/guitarist Mick Collins bounced across the stage with a big smile on his face and a shirt that read “You Are Being Watched” during the sirenlike guitar solo.
San Francisco singer/songwriter Kelley Stoltz and band opened along with the funky and soulful local Black Joe Lewis and his group including a three-piece horn section and an organist.
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Review: Daniel Tosh at the Paramount
Those of us who are not cute sorority girls or the guys who follow them around like terriers in ballcaps, hate Dane Cook. If comedy were nutrition, Cook would be a Tab and a Milky Way bar. The anti-Pryor sells out 18,000-seat arenas because his tight-jeaned brand of physical “comedy” shows off his tush. We curse his name.
But Daniel Tosh must really despise Dane the Bane. Although Tosh, who played a sold-out show at the Paramount Theatre Friday, is sick and twisted and truly original, he’s often lumped in with Cook because they’re both glicks, which is how to pronounce GLC - Good Looking Comedians. If you’ve ever drawn a thousand UT students on a night when their basketball team was playing for a trip to the Final Four… you might be a glick.
A fairly new phenomenon, the attractive funnyman era (ushered in by Jon Stewart,, a lame standup who eventually found his niche when he sat behind a desk) is a far cry from the days when you looked like Buddy Hackett or Woody Allen or Don Rickles or Totie Fields when it was your job to make people laugh, at a two-drink minimum. You became a comedian because your father was an abusive drunk, not because you found this killer web designer who can set you up. The best standup is revenge for not getting dates, for being left out of life’s reindeer games.
Daniel Tosh is a surfer for crissakes! That’s at the top of the pyramid of popularity. Tosh could be Tom Brady’s brother, but somehow he taps into the rage of a geek. Perhaps growing up the son of a Florida minister gave Tosh his blue rebellious streak. (Tellingly, his exit theme was “Sinnerman” by Nina Simone, not Dusty’s “Son of a Preacher Man.”)
Tosh’s comedic persona is that of a self-centered, misogynistic, politically inconceivable spoiled lout who has no use for people unless they give him sex or pump themselves full of steroids for his entertainment. He even feigned contempt for his adoring Tosh-eebas, chiding them for not laughing louder or in the right places. He kept looking at a watch he set on his water table because, he said, he wasn’t going a minute over the contracted performance time. Indeed, the show ended with a dud at exactly the one-hour mark, about 20 minutes after Tosh had run out of new things to say.
The comic had a snippet of good topical material about the presidential race, likening Hillary Clinton to Eli Manning (“She’s not even the best one in her house, but she just might have enough to win the big one”), but about 2/3 of Tosh’s wickedly crude set can’t be published here. His penchant for threading absurd sequences would also get lost in print, but let’s see what we can get away with.
He doesn’t go to strip clubs to “make it rain, “ he said, alluding to hip hop jargon for throwing dollar bills in the air. “I like to make it hail. I throw handfuls of change at (strippers) and if they yell ‘hey! hey!’ I tell them I’m a baller on a budget.”
He purported to be conservative except on one issue. “I want to wear a t-shirt that says ‘I heart abortion,’” he said. “On the back it’ll say ‘problem solved.’” He then went into a bit about the morning after pill, “or as I like to call it ‘breakfast in bed.’ Have you read where some women have died after taking the morning after pill? Talk about two birds with one stone. Looks like I’m going to the game after all.” The date night crowd roared at every unflinching observation.
Tosh doesn’t do much physical shtick, exaggerating frailness for effect, but he had one hilarious visual bit about how it makes more sense to sit backwards on a toilet, thus turning the tank into a place to rest your head or to eat a bowl of cereal. He was also a source of arcane references; who else is telling Gilbert Grape jokes these days?
Despite all the howls and kneeslaps all around, Tosh showed that he’s got a way to go before his comedy specials air on HBO instead of Comedy Central. Until he can do an hour without recycling old material (the Nebraska routine? Again?) he’s not ready for the majors. When Tosh did try to woodshed new stuff, he had to clumsily consult a couple scraps of paper, saying “not tonight” until he found one that might work. A joke about using the guy who draws on the UPS commercials as a Pictionary ringer was inspired. A diatribe about race car driver Danica Patrick not being that attractive wasn’t. “Let’s file that one under ‘room to grow’” Tosh said when one of his toddlers fell.
“Room to grow” sums up this glickster quite well. He sells out venues like the Paramount every night of the week, often adding second or third shows. But as Dane Cook and Larry the Cable Guy and Carlos Mencia prove, the mark of a great comedian is not putting fannies in seats. You haven’t really made it until, like Chris Rock, like Bill Hicks, like George Lopez and Eddie Murphy and Bill Cosby and Sam Kinison and Jerry Seinfeld and George Carlin and St. Richard, you haven’t made the A-team until you can kill for an hour and make time stand still.
It’s probably the hardest thing in all of show biz- getting a new standup set together. But if you’ve got only half an hour of fresh material, don’t do “an evening with…” Retire bits that have been shown on TV or heard on records. I know college kids don’t know any better; their taste in comedy is generally as bad as the music they choose to embrace. But in respect for the craft, Tosh should package himself with another known comic until he’s truly ready to headline a venue that doesn’t have “chuckles,” “giggles” or “funny bone” on the sign out front.
Well, this is supposed to be a music blog, so we’ll get you out with this incredible performance by Nina “Sinnerman” Simone:
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CD reviews: South Austin Jug Band, Jo Carol Pierce
South Austin Jug Band - ‘Strange Invitation’
(self-released)
Some argue that bluegrass and popular music combine as appetizingly as cottage cheese and chardonnay. James Hyland countered recently onstage at Threadgill’s. “I’ve heard (‘Come to Me’) called a pop song,” the South Austin Jug Band singer told the crowd. “I’m OK with that.” Fair enough. Even traditionalists would have difficulty disputing its winning marriage of glide and flair.
That flickering flame gently opens “Strange Invitation,” but airtight instrumentals quickly spill gasoline. Buckle up: “Trek of Beandip Perkins” and “Po Boys in the Glovebox” — dreamy splashes of frenetic Jackson Pollock imagery across a wheat field backdrop — peel out like teenage brothers jacking a ‘69 Camaro. Meanwhile, “Reprise” rolls and thunders and explodes like their parents rediscovering honeymoon thirst, its gentle coda a blood-orange sunset. Exhilarating.
Of course, that’s only a third of the album, which comes out Tuesday. Elsewhere, occasional misfires mire an otherwise robust collection. Tedious tunes like the lyrically inert ballad “Falls So Fast” and “Chicago,” a train song that starts but stalls, fizzle where they could flourish. On the other hand, engaging story songs “Wheatfield with Crows” and “Avenue of the Americas” — “Crime or an illness, everyone’s a witness,” Hyland sings on the latter, “Help is locked inside a cold steel pen” — filter complex themes with admirable finesse.
The stinging sociopolitical commentary “Neutral Ground” particularly resonates. “Ideas been evolving toward the truth that nobody’s coming to New Orleans,” the story scolds; “War’s been drowning out their tambourines.”
Fans know the trio — Hyland (vocals, guitar), Dennis Ludiker (mandolin) and Brian Beken (fiddle) — pinched the album title from their cover of alt-rock superstar Beck’s “Jack-Ass.” Excellent choice. Boundlessly skilled arrangers, the South Austin Jug Band reinvents its kindred spirit’s nonlinear masterpiece as a locomotive porch jam. Better than the original. Recommended tracks: “Trek of Beandip Perkins,” “Neutral Ground” — Brian T. Atkinson
Jo Carol Pierce - ‘Dog of Love’
(self-released)
Songs seem to spring so eloquently, so poetically, so fully formed from the quirky core of Jo Carol Pierce, especially with her musical partner (and fellow Lubbock native) David Halley as a sounding board. It’s amazing, then, to realize that it’s been 12 years since Pierce’s debut “Bad Girls Upset By the Truth.” So how does she follow up that funny, creaky, theatrical LP of absurd thoughts and heart-wrenching imagery?
She makes a rock ‘n’ roll record. “Dog Of Love” closes tenderly, with a pair of hypnotic, soul-baring numbers (“I’ve Got Your Eyes,” “Barb Wire Crown”), but it’s the crunchily melodic numbers such as the title track, “My Boyfriend” and “Don’t Miss This” (a long-lost Beatles song?) that give the album its irresistibly rompish quality. With the spoken snippet of “Criminal Thinking” leading into “Rock In My Shoe,” Pierce even sounds like a West Texas Patti Smith. This is the kind of record Lucinda Williams might make without the weight of expectations. The credits say “Dog of Love” was “spanked into life” by surf guitarist Mike Vernon and “driven” by bassist Mark Andes; indeed, this is a band record, even on the slow songs such as “Drunken Rain,” with the players sounding like black clouds overhead.
If there’s an overriding theme to the songs of Pierce, who spent decades as a social worker, it’s that this crazy life is worth savoring — every last drop of it. “Don’t Miss This” is about what unfounded fear takes away, and “Life Is Sweet” compares the story of who we are to the unfolding of a rose. The social work continues.
Pierce’s voice is her own and nobody else’s. And her lyrics go where the heart takes them. Add the creative contributions of the players, and “Dog of Love” is a rich banquet.
Fifteen years ago, a cadre of Austin musicians released an amazing tribute album called “Across the Great Divide: Songs of Jo Carol Pierce.” The 64-year-old songwriter has just put out material for “Great Divide II.” Recommended tracks: “Dog of Love,” “Don’t Miss This,” “Quicksand” — Michael Corcoran
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Last-minute Bill Callahan show at the Mohawk
Bill Callahan will play the inside stage at midnight Sunday at the Mohawk. Opening (at 11 p.m.) will be Jonathan Meiburg of Shearwater, for whom Matador Records will release a new album, ‘Rook,’ on June 3.
Doors at 9 p.m. and cover is $8/$10 for over/under 21.
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‘America’s Best Dance Crew’ season 2 auditions in Houston
While most of my time over the past couple months has been consumed with Austin’s biggest music event of the year, my secret obsession has been the latest venture of ‘Idol’ big dawg Randy Jackson, ‘America’s Best Dance Crew.’ I started watching out of curiosity, but quickly found myself roped in by the raw skills and pure heart of the dance crews who were competing. Last night during the season finale my boys, Jabbawockeez (in the video above) took the title. I loved this crew for a lot of reasons, beyond their technical prowess and mad flava, there was something really profound to me about the crew’s choice to perform in white masks. Apart from the dramatic stage effect, it signaled to me a surrender of individual ego for the good of the team.
I’ve been a huge fan of breakdance crews since being blown away at a B-Boy City dance competition in 2001. B-Boy City, produced twice a year by Romeo Navarro and crew, provides an excellent opportunity for Austinites to get a glimpse into the gritty and intense world of urban street dancing. The video above is a crew on crew battle featuring Jive Turkeys vs. Masterz of Mayhem in the B-Boy City 13 finals last year. The excellent instrumental funk the dancers break it down to is provided by local powerhouse Brownout. The next B-Boy City competition is coming up next month at the Parish. The dates are April 24-27 and the event being billed as a 10-year Anniversary Hip-Hop Festival. This has become an important institution in Austin’s urban music scene and I highly recommend local hip-hop fans check it out.
Also, this season of ‘ABDC’ featured crews from the South, East Coast, West Coast and Midwest but none from the Third Coast. I have this great dream that when I tune into the next season I’m going to see a Texas crew on the lineup. Apparently the show’s producers share my sentiment. There’s an open call audition for the next season of the show on April 22 in Houston. More details here. Represent, y’all!
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CD review: the Sword, ‘Gods of the Earth’
The Sword - ‘Gods of the Earth’
(Kemado)
If anything, this Austin metal band has turned up the knob marked “nerd” on this, its sophomore album.
This is not a knock. Metal and geek culture have crossed over again and again in music’s history. One forgets how geeky a lot of the Led Zeppelin songs were (lots of Tolkien in there) because they were more popular than Bacchus on pay day.
Sword song titles include “The Frost-Giant’s Daughter” (also the title of a Conan story) “Mother Maiden and Crone” (a reference to the Fates, Furies or Kindly Ones, depending on the particular myth) and “To Take The Black,” (a reference to a band of warriors in George R.R. Martin’s “A Game of Thrones”).
The music is essentially the same: galloping, twin-guitar hard rock that has as much in common with the thump of 1973 as the thrash of 1983 and indie-label lifestyle of 1993. Guitarists J.D. Cronise and Kyle Shutt lock up and peel off with ease, bassist Bryan Richie and drummer Trivett Wingo remain rock solid.
Only one question remains: Can a Sword role-playing game possibly be far behind?
Recommended: “Under the Boughs”
(The Sword performs at Fun Fun Fun Fest last year. Photo by Bret Gerbe for American-Statesman)
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CD review: Hayes Carll, featured in iTunes this week
Here’s our review of the new Hayes Carll release. You can get a free taste of the record on iTunes right now. Carll’s single, “She Left Me for Jesus,” is one of the free singles in the store.
Hayes Carll - ‘Trouble in Mind’
(Lost Highway)
Behold a most uncommon pleasure: Romantic poetry cresting a wave of rapid-fire rock ’n’ roll. “I’ve got a girl out in Henrietta, and her love is like tornado weather,” Hayes Carll sings on the swelling cautionary tale “A Bad Liver and a Broken Heart.” “It’s girls like this that keep me tryin’, she goes off like an air raid siren. Come in clean, leave torn apart, a bad liver and a broken heart.” Picture John Keats wearing faded jeans and a six-string.
Carll carries that epic burden with a familiar everyman’s grace throughout this major-label debut. In fact, “Trouble in Mind” — a ceaseless thrum of polished portraits and priceless punch lines — sketches a peerless blueprint of songwriting as unpretentious modern art. Heart-sore novellas “Beaumont” and “Knockin’ Over Whiskeys” double down on that claim. “Faulkner Street,” on the other hand, simply ties on dancing shoes and amplifies Carll’s mission statement to the unrepentant ragged and unwashed: “Living for the best, leaving all the rest behind.”
The Woodlands native certainly has plenty of cheeky fun here, too. “Wild as a Turkey,” for one, detonates as much wiseacre bravado as his unrecorded fan favorite “Ain’t Enough of Me to Go Around.” “Well, I’m wild as a turkey, higher than a Christmas moon, empty as my wallet on a Sunday afternoon,” Carll hiccups on the unapologetic twister. “I come around too fast, and I always leave too soon. Ain’t that what they always say?”
Pay particular attention to the bookend proclamations “Drunken Poet’s Dream” and “She Left Me for Jesus.” Braced equally by rapture and risk, the wobbly powder kegs spotlight Carll’s complex secular and spiritual symmetry. Few songwriters — “You be the sinner, honey, I’ll be the sin,” he coaxes on the former — dare draw tighter lines. Fewer still darken them with razor wit.
Recommended tracks: “Drunken Poet’s Dream,” “A Bad Liver and a Broken Heart,” “Knockin’ Over Whiskeys”
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The Roots to play 40 Acres Fest
Philadelphia hip-hop band the Roots will headline the 40 Acres Fest, a free annual concert on the main mall of the University of Texas campus. The show starts at noon Saturday April 5. Did we mention that it’s free?
The Roots, one of the best live bands on the planet, will play a mix of old faves and tunes from the upcoming (April 29 droppage) CD “Rising Down.”
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Escovedo previews new material
Alejandro Escovedo’s traditional Sunday night SXSW closeout included songs from his upcoming June 24 release, “Real Animal,” produced by Tony Visconti, who Escovedo calls “the coolest dude I’ve ever met.”
The new record, as well as the rest of Escovedo’s career, will have the powerful management team of Jon Landau and Barbara Carr behind it. Since Landau is Bruce “the Boss” Springsteen’s Karl Rove, maybe we should start calling Al “the Night Manager.”
The Escovedo documentary to be directed by Jonathan Demme looks like it’ll be filmed at Las Manitas in May, Escovedo says. It was originally planned for January 2008, but since Las Man is still standing, there was no rush.
Fans will be wise to catch Escovedo at the Continental Club on Tuesday, when he opens the five-night stint of Southern Culture On the Skids. There may not be too many more gigs at the cozy confines after the album comes out.
Here’s another new song:
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Weekend Picks: From Cambodian pop to 80s rock
Friday: Moe at Stubb’s. Guitar pop that goes with both Cheap Trick and the Grateful Dead. The newest album, ‘Sticks and Stones,’ was written and recorded in about three weeks — this is the first time they have recorded an album of unheard, new material. Expect tighter songs that can nonetheless spiral into jams. $23. — Joe Gross
Friday: Brownout, Dengue Fever at Club DeVille. Austin’s ridiculously tight 8-piece Latin funk ensemble (they smoked that SXSW set!) joins forces with L.A.’s Dengue Fever, a band that blends Cambodian pop with everything from Brazilian psych-pop to California surf music. $8 — Deborah Sengupta Stith
» More on Dengue Fever
Friday: Voxtrot at Emo’s. Are they still obsessed with the Smiths’ jangle-rush? Are they still making tasteful EPs? Can they survive Vampire Weekend eating their aesthetic lunch? With Yellow Fever, Ringo Deathstarr and Hollywood Gossip. $10. — J.G.
Saturday: Bassnectar at Antone’s. I might have overlooked this Frisco-based electronic act’s Antone’s gig, were it not for the fact that just earlier this week a girlfriend of mine raved about how utterly amazing a party she attended in the Bay Area was. Based primarily around the experimentations of Lorin Ashton the music ranges from drum and bass to breakbeats and ambient jazz. Austin’s adventurous turntable tag team, DJs Manny and Bigface open. $14-$16 — D.S.S.
Saturday: Rock the Casbah with Mel at the Parish. Party-rocker Mel was hosting these shindigs featuring ’80s outsider music long before it was all the rage. Break out the leg warmers and acid-washed denim and get your vintage angst on. Cost unspecified. — D.S.S.
Saturday: Les Claypool, Tim Fite at Stubb’s.You might recall Les Claypool from his time as the slap-happy bassist/singer in Primus. He’s pretty much stuck to the sort of complicated rock that mixes funk and Frank Zappa-style riffs. These days, he’s rolling with a quartet breaking out old and new material. Tim Fite’s nerdy, oddball hip-hop opens. $26. — J.G.
Saturday: Grimy Styles at Flamingo. Catch Austin’s dub sensations before they embark on a 2-week tour of the Gulf Coast and Florida. — D.S.S.
Sunday: Jazz Night featuring Ephraim Owens, Brannen Temple, Red Young at Lamberts. A native of Dallas, Ephraim began playing classical trumpet at the age of 8, later attending Booker T. Washington High School for the Performing and Visual Arts. He is a master in the jazz arena, especially well-known for his signature solos and ability to improvise. He has an uncanny ability to imagine his music laid on top of anything else he hears, and his adaptability makes him a welcome addition to almost any lineup. Free. — Blair Shiff
Sunday: Steven Will and the Salingers at The Saxon Pub. The songwriting pair of Steven and Jessica Will had a somewhat auspicious beginning. Steven had a sultry voice and Jessica was a strong-willed bassist determined to get in the band. After proving herself and marrying the band leader, Jessica shares the spotlight. Cost unspecified. — B.S.
Sunday: Suede Austin at Cedar Street Courtyard. Suede plays a mix of “Radio Rock from the ’70s and ’80s — Journey, Toto, Kansas, the Police, Cheap Trick and Bryan Adams.” Their set includes Don Henley’s ‘Boys of Summer,’ Toto’s ‘Hold The Line’ and ‘Cuts Like A Knife’ by Brian Adams. Cost unspecified. — B.S.
Sunday: Heybale with Redd and Earl at the Continental Club. Austin roots rock supergroup. Heybale! is Redd Volkaert, Kevin Smith, Earl Poole Ball, Gary Claxton and Tom Lewis with Special Guest Erik Hokkanen on Fiddle. $7 — B.S.
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Paula Nelson kicks “drunk” offstage
Can this possibly be real?
No it can’t. Jimmy Kimmel showed this video on his show a couple days ago as a “don’t mess with Willie’s daughter” thing and it’s up on YouTube. But the guy getting kicked at the Saxon Pub last week is actually Paula’s boyfriend Jeff Schwan, the stunt coordinator for “Friday Night Lights.” The couple staged the whole thing for the bemusement of friends in the audience.
This looked fishy from the start because the production value is better than that martial arts movie Willie made with Master Sam Um.
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YouTube video of the day
The Highwaymen perform Steve Goodman’s “City of New Orleans,” which most people know as “Good Morning America.”
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Vallejo’s back… and better
The new single “Move On.”
“Thicker Than Water,” Vallejo (Quadra)
It’s been six years since the release of their previous studio album “Stereo,” but Vallejo jumps right back in the high life with “Thicker Than Water.” The new album forsakes the old funk/ rock for a more melodic/ harmonic sound that suits the three Vallejo brothers and their cohorts. A.J. Vallejo sings with such smooth confidence, you get the idea that when the band was chasing trends (Red Hot Chili Peppers, 311, “Rock En Espanol” etc.) this was the sound that was really inside him. “Thicker Than Water” certainly showcases his shimmering voice better than the previous four albums.
On “Sweet Maria,” Vallejo is reminiscent of the platinum collaboration between Santana and Rob Thomas, while “Temptation” benefits from the band’s rhythmic textures. “Salvador” is a standout Spanish rocker that leads into the roof-blowing horn workout on “Sonata Del Toro” and then it’s into “Without You,” which could be called a ditty except there’s so much going on around the simple melody.
There are so many overdubs that the “Thicker” in the LP title seems to be as much about the sound than bloodlines. But these stage professionals will have no trouble pulling off the new stuff at Antone’s Friday night.
The only songs the record might’ve been better without are the fluffily trite “Temporary Thing,” which is reggae like Culture Club was and LP-closing “Tu Corazon Es Para Mi,” which sounds a little forced, as A.J. tries to match the quirky Latin phrasing of duet partner Zayra Alvarez (from “Rockstar: Supernova”). Oh, well, at least there are no collaborations with Flickerstick.
It was good to run into A.J. (or was it his twin, that monster drummer Alejandro?) at SXSW a couple weeks back and to see him so excited about the band’s career restart. “Thicker Than Water” is the most consistent album of the band’s career and knowing just how hard Vallejo can work a good thing, 2008 looks to be a great year for the fresh-faced veterans.
To read the band’s studio diary on the making of “Thicker,” click on here.
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CD review: Raconteurs ‘Consolers of the Lonely’
Raconteurs - ‘Consolers of the Lonely
(Third Man/Warners)
There’s an old adage about test-taking: If you don’t know the answer, talk about the question.
The Raconteurs, also known as “That Band Jack White is In on White Stripes Off-Years,” have done that brilliantly on “Consolers of the Lonely.”
A few weeks ago, the band — White and Brendan Benson on vocals and guitar and garage rockers the Greenhornes’ rhythm section (bassist Jack Lawrence and drummer Patrick Keeler) — announced they were rush releasing their new album, “Consolers of the Lonely,” which they had just completed. No promos, no hype, no leaks — CD, downloads and vinyl would be made available to all on March 25.
Which was admirable — worth adding a star, in fact. Making recordings available as soon as possible is the wave of the future and the announcement generated a fair amount of hype in and of itself.
All of which was a nice way to distract fans from the fact that this it’s a weirdly overblown and curiously dull album. More than the band’s 2006 debut, “Consolers” is rife with that too-many-cooks feeling that one gets from supergroup albums (see also: Blind Faith). The last one clocked in at an old-school 33 minutes; this one’s nearly an hour. The songs were obviously worked over and refined, complicated tunes with twisty dynamics (the title track) and soft rock harmonies (“You Don’t Understand Me” — gee, was Wings a supergroup? Nah). The album was also mastered entirely too loudly. It’s a lame grip in this day and age, but for guy who fetishes past recording techniques as much as White does, this is now the second album in a row from him that sounds just brutal (and not the fun kind of brutal) in the digital domain.
The only keeper is a cover of Terry Reid’s “Rich Kid Blues.” Reid was slated to be a member of another supergroup, this band nobody ever heard of called Led Zeppelin. Too bad this isn’t the Raconteurs’ “II.”
(The Raconteurs play Austin in May.)
(Photo of the Raconteurs by Autumn DeWilde)
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