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Sunday, September 28, 2008
ACL review: Foo Fighters
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ACL review: Shooter Jennings
Shooter Jennings was 10 minutes late for his show in the WaMu tent Sunday evening. And when he finally did show up, the shaggy-haired, free-spirited son of Waylon Jennings and Jessi Colter took the stage as loudspeakers played the Darth Vadar march music from “Star Wars.”
I had the feeling, right then, that something strange was bound to happen.
But no: Jennings and his band went straight to work, churning out a string of hard-driving, high-testosterone, country-ROCK songs — “Steady at the Wheel,” “Slow Train,” “This Ol’ Wheel” — that touched on themes of alienation and a quest for freedom and the dream of going home. Newbies like me were reminded, very quickly, that the 29-year-old Jennings and his guitar-driven band share more of a musical kinship with Lynyrd Skynyrd (or the old Black Sabbath) than his father Waylon. And that’s quite all right. “The Wolf,” his third CD, reflects the spirit of a man whose committed to making music his own way.
Halfway through the show, Jennings sought to soften the mood a bit as the stage hands brought out an electronic keyboard — an instrument that didn’t seem to be working very well, it turns out. Jennings gave it a try for a couple of tunes. Then, following “Higher,” the stage hands returned to fix it. Shooter shooed them away. “I’m trying to get through one more song with this son of a … ,” he said, clearly frustrated.
Launching into a new song, Jennings played only a few notes before exclaiming, “What the hell is wrong with this thing?” Then he stood up at center stage, lifted the keyboard from its stand and threw it down to the floor. “Change of plan,” he said dryly.
Let the record show that Jennings promptly strapped on his Gibson guitar and ripped off an inspired rendition of “Daddy’s Farm” and eventually closed the show with a high-energy cover of the Arc Angels’ “Living in a Dream.”
Photo: Jack Plunkett ASSOCIATED PRESS
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ACL review: Mike Farris and the Roseland Rhythm Review
Recovering alcoholic Mike Farris has come home to God — and along the way, this one-time bad boy of the 1990s independent rock scene has developed an unabashed love for “black church music.” Hallelujah, Brother Farris. Hallelujah.
No doubt about it: Farris’ hand-clapping, foot-stomping, raise-the-roof Gospel-and-Soul set in the WaMu tent Sunday afternoon was an ACL Festival highlight. Imagine a blue-eyed soul singer and a Stax-style horn section at a tent revival, and you get the idea. Farris and his 10-piece band had the crowd in his hand from the moment he launched into Thomas A. Dorsey’s Gospel classic “Precious Lord, Take My Hand” and held them through a 10-song set that drew almost entirely from his acclaimed album, “Salvation In Lights.”
It was a lot of fun, especially when nationally renowned gospel singers Ann and Regina McCrary got revved up and jumped into the mix. But make no mistake: Farris’ musical intent is quite sophisticated. He’ll take a classic gospel tune like “Can’t No Grave Hold My Body Down” and splash it oh so tastefully with soul and blues colors. At the same time, he’ll write original songs — such as “I’m Gonna Get There,” which closed the set — that mix gospel and soul, and the theme of salvation, in a way that makes them seem of the same family as those gospel standards. Easy to conceptualize, but very hard to pull off.
Farris received an extended standing ovation midway through his set for his stirring cover of Sam Cooke’s “Change is Gonna Come” — and man, did he earn it. Farris delivered the song as testimony, backed by the suggestion of a church organ, bringing to it a rare physical force as he clenched his fist and shouted out with conviction, yes, yes, a change is gonna come. He went the opposite way with “Oh Mary, Don’t You Weep,” slowing it down a bit, giving it some reflective accents, and inviting a horn section solo (featuring Austin’s John Mills, Tony Campisi and Michael Mordecai) that suggested a New Orleans funeral march.
“The beauty of these old songs is that at the point of despair, (they connect) to our need to believe in a better day,” Farris said before a delicate cover of “Trouble in This World.” “That’s why songs like this are as relevant today as they were 150 years ago.”
Photo: Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN
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ACL review: Kevin Fowler
I always thought the answer to the old question about what the dog would do when he finally caught the bus could be summed up in two words: “Kevin Fowler.”
Fowler may not be the most well known figure in country-rock, though he rules in that insular sub-genre that dubs itself “Texas Music.” But he inspires fan loyalty to a cult-like degree, he conducts his career according to his own road map and, most importantly from a fan perspective, he gives every appearance of having more fun than any 19 or 20 given barrels of monkeys.
Fowler came to his pre-eminence by a circuitous route. The Amarillo native first came to the attention of Austin audiences as a long-haired, head-banging member of the metal band Dangerous Toys. Now he has a buzzcut and a cowboy hat, but Fowler still knows how to wring a Les Paul dry (as evidenced by his dead-on rendition of Aerosmith’s “Sweet Emotion”). The crowd in front of the Austin Ventures stage on Sunday night responded accordingly.
More to the point, he is a clever and incisive writer who can craft a lyric with wicked acuity (“Beer, Bait and Ammo” and “Lord Loves the Drinkin’ Man,” to cite but two examples). He may be content to play the Bubba to the hilt (if he had bellowed, “Can I get a hell yeah?!” one more time, I was ready to put out a bounty on him), but he has a savvy appreciation for how far his persona can carry him. He gives the impression of being able to recreate himself at any time and still make valid and engaging music in the process.
In the meantime, he’s found a groove that works. As the old joke goes, the more you drink, the better he sounds. What Elsie the Cow is to milk, Fowler is to Jim Beam and Crown Royal, as songs like “Lord Loves the Drinkin’ Man,” “Triple Crown” (“…a double ain’t enough when I’m feeling this down”), “Loose, Loud and Crazy” and “Ain’t Drinking Anymore” (“…but I ain’t drinking any less”) all attest.
Fowler has never met a honky-tonk he didn’t like (outdoor festivals included) and Sunday night at the Austin Ventures stage, it was clear the feeling was mutual.
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ACL review: Neko Case
A surprisingly small crowd was on hand to see sometime New Pornographer Neko Case at 4:30 p.m. Sunday on the AMD Stage. Case and her band have been touring on her successful 2006 release “Fox Confessor Brings the Flood” for two and a half years, and this was their last show of the tour. According to her Web site, she has a new album coming in 2009, and she played a few new songs at ACL.
The lack of interest in her performance may have been because Case’s music is fairly mellow, especially for a festival setting. This isn’t the Racontuers, or even the New Pornographers. Regardless, her voice is beautiful and it was on display in crowd-pleasers off “Fox Confessor” such as “Margaret vs. Pauline,” “Hold On, Hold On” and “Maybe Sparrow.” The new material was mostly in the same vain as “Fox Confessor,” abstract country tunes that allow her vocals to shine.
Other highlights included “I Wish I Was The Moon” from her self-titled 2002 release and an emotional cover of Harry Nilsson’s “Don’t Forget Me,” which she said will appear on the new album. Case also offered up some amusing banter to the crowd, and closed the set with the romping “John Saw That Number,” also from “Fox Confessor.”
Photo: Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN
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ACL review: Okkervil River
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ACL review: The Belleville Outfit
The Belleville Outfit, one of Austin’s premier acoustic bands, raised a lot of smiles from the BMI Stage on Sunday afternoon with a cheerful and sophisticated set grounded in gypsy jazz, finely crafted vocal harmonies and a dozen different flavors of swing. Hey, who said it was hot out here? Once the Belleville sextet hit the stage, the musical spirit was nothing but cool and breezy.
The Belleville Outfit is fronted by songwriters Phoebe Hunt (violin and vocals) and Rob Teter (guitar and vocals), but it’s clear that they are a band of equals who are terrific listeners. The audience picked up on it, too, cheering the solos not so much as the band’s deft tempo changes and their keen sense of time. When pianist Connor Forsyth locks in with Hunt’s violin on “Caroline” or guitarist Marshall Hood locks in with her on “Wandrin,” it’s musical beauty of the highest order.
Sensing that their 6-month-old debut album might not seem brand new to many Austinites in the crowd, the Belleville Outfit took advantage of their first ACL gig to debut seven new songs. They opened the show with Teter’s “Let Me Go,” a swinging, crooner’s blues that sounded as if it could have been written by one of the band’s great inspirations, the late Walter Hyatt. A few minutes later, Hunt trotted out “Time to Stand,” a deep and delicate tune of reflection that showed off the band’s affinity for both Appalachian and bayou imagery. On “Nothing’s Too good for My Baby,” Hunt summoned the spirit of Anita O’Day. Special guest Warren Hood (Marshall’s cousin, and son of the late Champ Hood) joined the band on the last two tunes of the set, “Sunday Morning I’m Always Missing You” and “Oh Babe.”
Photo: Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN
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ACL review: Heartless Bastards/White Denim
It would be hard to find two Austin-based, indie-identified bands with more different ways of looking at the way you write, arrange and execute rock music than these two acts, who played back-to-back at the Austin Ventures stage Sunday evening, Heartless Bastards at 5:15 and White Denim at 6:30.
Lead Bastard Erika Wennestrom recently moved here from Ohio, rebooting her band in the process and recording a new recor dwith producer Mike McCarthy (Spoon, Trail of Dead).
While the early comparisons to PJ Harvey seem unfortunate if inevitable, fans seem to have settled into the idea that she won’t be the American PJ we deserve. If anything, her voice is more in the ragged Joplin tradition than Harvey’s artsy howl. The band’s songs are blocky affairs, garage rock in theory but not really in practice. This isn’t spirit of ’66, Beatle boot revivalism, but ruggedly simple rock that didn’t seem to mind that its songs never quite distinguished themselves from one another.
Of course, White Denim’s didn’t either, but they went the other direction entirely. Packed with guitarist James Petralli’s triumphant, quick-change riffs the Austin trio produced high energy grooves that that dissolved into rhythmic vamps, reminding one of nothing so much as a stripped down Mars Volta, such was its complexity and detail. Joshua Block is a mesmerizing drummer, a hard hitting, hard swinging master of the frantic slam and the deft change-up.
You would have had a tough time finding a band that looked happier to be on stage (Petralli’s grin is worthy of a toothpaste ad) or a band that exploded out of the gate so forcefully. I could have watched them stretch those high velocity explorations for another 45 minutes.
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Scene report: Thoughts on fest
A few quick thoughts on the fest in general:
- Favorite acts: David Byrne, Hot Chip, Erykah Badu, Sharon Jones, Spiritualized, Band of Horses
- Favorite set from an Austin band: White Denim
- Sorry I missed: N.E.R.D., Jamie Lidell and The Mars Volta
- Not worth the time: Stars
- Favorite peripheral ACL event: The dance party the Daily Juice on Barton Springs pulled off Saturday night (and apparently Sunday, as well) with people dancing on the roof and in the streets en masse to the music of DJ Richard Gear before police very politely pulled the plug at 11 p.m.
- Most annoying time: High school kids shoving their way out of Band of Horses set to get a spot for Foo Fighters
- Best food court yet
- Unfortunate: No Mexican beer for the crowd. Heineken, Bud Light and whatever else they had didn’t seem to be strong enough options.
- Best weather of any fest. That alone makes it probably my favorite fest yet.
- Great idea by organizers to let people fill recycling bags in exchange for swag. The park was super clean, all things considered.
- No major calamities, see: fire, last-minute pull-outs
- Yes, there was some dust, but it was nothing like the year of the dust storm. Look, it’s a park: There is dirt and some withered grass. There will be some dust.
- With the exception of one or two sets, the sound bleeding was kept to a minimum. I didn’t really have any set ruined by bleeding.
- Maybe it was just me: The bass at the Dell stage was way overdone, and muddled the sound a bit from certain vantage points.
- Obvious alert: Appreciation for the sound and the sets is largely dependent on where you stand. Further back in front of a speaker is better than a little closer and to the side.
- Cool that there were stations to refill your water bottle. Even if it’s just 92 degrees, you gotta stay hydrated.
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Scene report: Neko Case
After a somewhat boring set from Montreal-based Stars, the festival kicked it up a notch with Against Me! providing some punk-rock energy to a slow early afternoon. As Silversun Pickups took the stage at one end of the field determined to bring some raw energy to the day, alt-country chantuese Neko Case brought more raw emotion and beauty than energy.
I was curious as to whether her atmospheric vocals would hold up on the massive stage in front of thousands under the hot sun, but she and her band were up to the task.
Case played songs spanning her critically acclaimed solo career. Her beautiful vocals, while not inspiring the audience to dance — or really move at all — seemed like the perfect antidote for a crowd that looked like it needed a respite from an exhausting weekend. And there’s probably no more soothing a voice to rush over you like a cool breeze on a languid summer day.
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Scene report: Out-of-towners
One of the best parts of ACL Fest is the far-flung crowds it draws. On Sunday, a few out-of-towners took a moment to talk about their festival experiences.
Olga Martinez of Poland flew in with a group of friends to see Beck, Foo Fighters and Slightly Stoopid, but they’ve enjoyed other aspects of Austin as well.
“Barton Springs, the river, was really fun,” Martinez said before heading off in search of more music.
Lauren Perkins of Houston drove to Austin to catch Mars Volta, Tegan and Sara and the Kills, but she’s enjoyed more than just the music.
“The pedicab ride was really fun,” she said. “We liked our driver. He was the best part.”
Heather Walker recently moved to Austin from Los Angeles.
“I don’t really consider myself a native yet,” she said. “I’m here for The Kills and Tegan and Sara.”
Walker’s friend, Jacqueline Garrett of Columbus, Ohio, came to ACL Fest to see Erykah Badu and Beck, but has also been getting a taste of the larger Austin culture.
“We went to Sixth Street last night, but we’re going to try South Congress tonight,” she said. “I’m not a big fan of all those jello shots and all that bumping and grinding.”
For Liz Lambert and Matt Harp of New Orleans, it’s all about the music.
“Conor Oberst was really good,” Lambert said.
“We also enjoyed Beck,” Harp said. “It’s really been all about the festival.”
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ACL review: Gillian Welch
Gillian Welch forgot to put goop on her hair. It was a fact that caused her much chagrin as she stood on the breezy expanse of the AMD stage. “I didn’t want to eat my hair while I was trying to sing,” she explained.
Actually, the wind-tousled look suited Welch, who — though she was born in Manhattan and grew up in L.A. — always looks like she just stepped out of a Depression-era Dorothea Lange photograph (and whose music sounds as though she were providing the soundtrack for James Agee’s “Let Us Now Praise Famous Men”).
Welch and her longtime partner, David Rawlings, delivered an unplugged set that mixed material from her four albums with songs from a forthcoming project. And the performances were fine; it was the venue that rankled.
This marks the third time this weekend that this listener has seen a small-bore acoustic act presented in the cavernous expanse of one of the festival’s main stages. Performances that should breath intimacy and beckon listeners closer are swallowed up by the brobdingnagian scale of the stage. Surely, one of the smaller stages would be more appropriate for Welch’s understated musical portraits.
And so much for that. Welch and Rawlings have such an intuitive and finely honed sense of the sound and (more important) the feel of classic American acoustic music that more than once a song this listener thought must have come from a Library of Congress field recording (like “Sweet Tooth”) turned out to be a Welch/Rawlings original.
Other songs, like ”Knuckleball Catcher” and “The Way We Will Be” (two more new ones) had a more contemporary feel without seeming trendy, but Welch classics like “Orphan Girl” and “Red Clay Halo” retain a timeless sound.
Certainly, from the fans’ point of view, the big treat of the set came when Alison Krauss (enjoying a busman’s holiday after her show with Robert Plant last night) joined Welch and Rawlings for a reprise of “Didn’t Leave Nobody But the Baby,” the song they recorded for “O Brother, Where Art Thou” (Rawlings got to sing Emmylou Harris’ part). As moments of pure, unadulterated musical magic go, it was hard to top.
Photo: Erich Schlegel FOR AMERICAN-STATESMAN
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Scene report: medical tent numbers
Friday at ACL, 114 people were treated at the medical tent, while 197 were treated Saturday. Three were transported to the hospital Friday, with 13, including two suspected drug overdoses, getting an ambulance ride Saturday.
The numbers may seem high, but they’re down from previous years, according South West Emergency Action Team (S.W.E.A.T.) supervisor Tannifer Ayres. “People are doing a better job of keeping themselves hydrated,” she said.
Heat-related causes accounted for 28 percent of those treated Saturday, followed by 26 percent for lacerations and 19 percent for asthma/respiratory problems. Only 7 percent - 13 fans- were seen for eye irritations due to dust.
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ACL review: AA Bondy
When Alabama’s AA Bondy took the Dell Stage with nothing more than an acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder and a harmonica fastened to his neck, the booming echoes of drumsets from other stages threatened to drown out his expertly finger-picked licks.
Bondy moved confidently through his Dylanesque folk tunes nonetheless, keeping the crowd’s chatter to a minimum and their response enthusiastic.
“I kind of feel like I should be out there among you,” he said a few songs in.
But he had no reason to worry about the performance lacking intimacy. The audience was transfixed by the Southwestern crunch of his slightly distorted acoustic riffs and the graceful imperfection of his crackling melodies.
The music was punctuated by his haunting revivalist poetics. Over the dreary drag of the minor chords in “Rapture (Sweet Rapture)” Bondy sang about trees swinging like hanging men, while in the upbeat romp “Vice Rag” he asked Jesus to take his sinner’s hand after singing that he’d drink dry an ocean full of whiskey.
Though Bondy has only released one album, 2007’s “American Hearts,” he played a surprisingly small number of cuts from it. The rest of the set was made up of equally impressive unreleased numbers. In one, he picked out a sunny, gospel-like progression while singing, “Dress well/Get pretty/You got to die.”
Judging from the strength of such songs, Bondy’s next album will be just as good or better than “American Hearts.”
Photo: Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN
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ACL review: Abigail Washburn and the Sparrow Quartet
OK, here’s the deal: One of the great bluegrass maestros of the age teams up with a young woman who sings Chinese folk songs — in Chinese. They hook up with an A-list cello player and fiddlers, and set out to play string band music that mixes Appalachian melodies with Eastern pentatonic scales. Are you with me so far?
If all that sounds off-putting or intimidating, rest assured that in the hands of Abigail Washburn and the Sparrow Quartet, it is anything but. Washburn, along with banjo virtuoso Bela Fleck, cellist Ben Sollee and fiddler Casey Driessen, provided a beguiling start to a musical Sunday as they wove their peculiar multicultural tapestry on the AT&T Stage.
Washburn fell in love with China and its people during a journey to the People’s Republic in 1996, so much so she learned to speak the language and decipher the folk songs of Sichuan and other provinces. Moreover, she began to link Chinese folk music traditions to those of her own country.
Thus, the Sparrow Quartet, a group that can go from the delicate calligraphy brushstokes of a subtle Eastern melody to a full-on bluegrass breakdown at the drop of a fingerpick.
Washburn’s set began with a stately overture that segued into her own “A Fuller Wine,” followed by a hot jazz turn on Blind Willie Johnson’s “Nobody’s Fault But Mine,” which yielded to a Chinese tune that allowed Fleck to pop the clutch and blaze away.
If that kind of eclectic versatility sounds daunting to the average listener, onstage it came across as anything but. The four musicians shared an easy rapport both among themselves and with the audience. “This song is called ‘Kangding Qingge’,” said Washburn, introducing yet another Chinese tune, “but we like to call it ‘Old Timey Dance Party.” At another point, a Kazakh folk melody transformed itself into an vintage rave-up called “Banjo-Pickin’ Girl” that Washburn made her own (“I’m goin’ to North Carolina and from there off to China,” she sang). And an austere, classical sounding string quartet instrumental resolved itself into a formal reading of the Beatles’ “Eleanor Rigby,” which in turn gave way to a fiery duel of solos between Fleck and Driessen.
It was all…well, it was fun. And fascinating. And a journey in and of itself. For a few minutes, the ACL festival felt truly worldwide.
Photo: Jay Janner AMERICAN-STATESMAN
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Scene report: VIP action up
Last week Charlie Walker of C3 said the demand for VIP amenities is the fastest growing aspect of ACL. “Some people don’t care about the higher price point,” Walker said. “They just don’t want to be hassled. Hundreds paid $850 for such services as massages, spa treatments, gourmet organic food and free drinks, all in the shade of the VIP Grove. There’s also access to an Internet lounge and clean restrooms. With four VIP wristbands, you also get coveted parking.
After this year’s pleasant weather and when the new dust-busting irrigation system is put in at Zilker (C3 has pledged $2.5 million to the project, among other park improvements), the VIP section may lose much of its allure.
That would be a good problem to have.
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ACL review: Swell Season aftershow at the Paramount
When I interviewed her last year, singer/pianist and “Once” co-star Marketa Irglova claimed that a touring musician’s life was not for her, and that she’d return to a quieter one when movie promotion was finished. But an Oscar (for best original song) can change things, and the shy singer was a committed performer this Saturday at the Paramount — even offering new songs, occasionally taking the stage by herself, and trying to cope with shouted comments from a concertgoer who wanted to call her his girlfriend.
Co-star and Swell Season bandmate Glen Hansard was more comfortable with the crowd’s boisterous love, clearly relishing stateside success after years of trying to break through with his longtime band the Frames. (He did some Frames material, like “Fitzcarraldo” and “What Happens When the Heart Just Stops,” here.) Starting the show like the busker he played in the film — by himself with no mike or guitar amp, playing the song that sets “Once” in motion — he was the evening’s engine, frequently delivering cloudbursts of vocal emotion that would make Coldplay’s Chris Martin hide in a corner.
As if to prove they were more than a one-hit act, they played their Oscar song “Falling Slowly” up front, then kept listeners rapt through a two-hour set that stretched well beyond the movie’s soundtrack, even including one of the best Daniel Johnston covers (“Life in Vain”) this side of Kathy McCarty. All signs (including the presence of a fleshed-out band backing the two stars) suggested this could be the start, not the culmination, of a fruitful career.
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Meet the Ice Cream Man
Matt Allen, aka The Ice Cream Man, hands out ice cream on Sunday at the Austin City Limits Music Festival. Photo by Jay Janner/AMERICAN-STATESMAN
Not many folks backstage at ACL Fest know Matt Allen by name, but that’s OK with him. “Hey, Ice Cream Man,” a woman Saturday night after Beck’s set called out. “Do you have any Bomb Pops left?” He digs one out of the cooler and hands it to her free of charge. “You’re the best, Ice Cream Man,” she said.
Matt Allen is popular with the ladies. And the artists. And the crew. And the cops. Especially the cops. “Policemen love ice cream,” he said. So it’s not just donuts.
Allen will give away more than 3,000 pieces of ice cream before ACL Fest is over. At SXSW he gave out 11,000. He’ll be backstage at more than a dozen festivals — big and small — all over the country. He was backstage at the MTV video music awards, where Rhiannon and Chris Brown were just two of his customers.
How does he do it? Iowa company Bluebunny donates all the ice cream. It’s good promotion for them. But Allen has to stay with friends on the road because hotels aren’t feasible. Asked if he’s an ice cream freak, Long Beach, Calif., native Allen answered “I’m an adventure freak. That’s what this is, man, going all over the country, meeting so many people.”
The adventure started four years ago at Ashland, Ore., where Allen originally sold his frozen delectables. But at the All Tomorrow’s Parties fest in late 2004, Allen picked up a sponsor with an Oregon ice cream company and realized it’s a lot more fun to just give it away.
If he runs out, as he did Saturday at 5:30 p.m., he hits the local Bluebunny distributor, in Austin that’s Yumi, and they replentish the stock.
“We’ve had our share of celebrities,” Allen said. “We get a lot of their kids. Sam Beam from Iron & Wine brought his kids by and they loved it. At Lollapalooza, Jeff Tweedy’s kids acted like they had kidnapped him in exchange for more ice cream. Ice cream makes people happy.” Because it melts, Allen’s product can’t be hoarded, which makes it perfect for backstage, where bag-stuffing freeloaders roam.
Allen said it’s not the big names, but the behind-the-scenes workers that he’s there for. “They’re the people that make the festival happen. They work real hard and when I see them walk away with a big smile, it makes my day.”
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ACL review: Beck
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