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Monday, May 18, 2009
Pachanga Fest 2009 - full schedule
We’ve just received the full schedule for this year’s Pachanga Latino Music Festival. Pachanga Fest, which takes place Saturday, May 30 at Fiesta Gardens, features over 20 acts on three stages. The family-friendly event will also host NIños Rock Pachanga, an arts and crafts area for children. Tickets for Pachanga Fest are $15 advance and $20 at the gate. Children 12 and under are free with a paid adult. Pachanga Fest tickets are available at all Front Gate Tickets outlets, frontgatetickets.com, Estrada Cleaners on East 7th Street and Turntable Records on South First Street.
2009 PACHANGA SCHEDULE:
PAVILLION STAGE
- 12:30 to 1 p.m. Anthropos/niños dance party
- 1:30-2:30 El Tule/niño’s dance party
- 3:00-4:00 Pachanga All Stars
- 4:30-5:30 AJ Castillo
- 6:00-7:00 Chris Perez Band
- 7:30-8:30 Mariachi Altenas
- 9:00-10:30 Michael Salgado
PLAZA STAGE
- 12:45-1:30 Escondido Project
- 2:15-3:00 Dignan
- 3:45-4:30 Gaby Moreno
- 5:15-6:00 Cordero
- 6:45-7:30 Davíd Garza
- 8:15-9:00 Charanga Cakewalk
YERBA STAGE
- 1:30-2:15 Kalua
- 3:00-3:45 Los Bad Apples
- 4:30-5:15 Ocote Soul Sounds
- 6:00-6:45 Maneja Beto
- 7:30-8:15 Brownout
- 9:00-10:00 Mexican Institute of Sound
Niños Rock Pachanga
- noon to 4 p.m. Folk arts and crafts area with papel picados, Mexican masks, clay tamales, pinwheels, Annie Ray photo booth
- 12:30 p.m. Jake Owen from Charanga Cakewalk guitar demo, Kids Dance party at Pavillion Stage with Anthropos
- 1:30 p.m. Alex Vallejo from Vallejo drum demo, Kids dance party at Pavilion Stage with El Tule
- 2:30 p.m. Bobby Garza from Maneja Beto keyboard demo
- 3:30 p.m. David Garza will have a songwriting demo and mini concert
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CD reviews: Indigo Girls, The Wooden Birds
Indigo Girls
‘Poseidon and the Bitter Bug’
(Vanguard)
C
It takes more muscles to cringe than smile, so for a real facial workout read the lyrics to this latest from the Georgia duo that has been setting coffeehouse journals to music for two decades. A sample: ‘A snake will always bite the hand that feeds it,’ from ‘I’ll Change.’ These girls never came across a cliche they couldn’t turn into a song about learning to crawl or taking it on the chin, which makes this LP’s title all the more pretentious.
And yet when Emily Saliers and Amy Ray harmonize they become sisters and elevate the mundane. Produced by Mitchell Froom, this CD comes as a double disc, with one CD of the same songs stripped down. There’s not a whole lotta difference between the two, but I prefer the one without the bass, drums and keyboards because that’s the Indigo Girls being themselves, giving the lyrics some needed authenticity. — Michael Corcoran
The Wooden Birds
‘Magnolia’
(Barsuk)
A-
After a six-year stint in Brooklyn that included collaboration with Broken Social Scene, American Analog set’s Andrew Kenny has returned to Austin with a solid collection of stripped down, folksy Americana. At a time when the mellow end of the indie music spectrum tends to lean more toward the loosely defined category of freak folk, Kenny has put out an album that manages to sound relevant despite it’s lack of freakiness — no strange percussion, Latin-style breakdowns or eerie children’s choirs. The album is consistently bare-boned from beginning to end, and Kenny for the most part shuns any hint of earnestness for an attractive detachment, especially on “False Alarm” and “Sugar.” If there is any downside, it’s that the music is almost too restrained at points, giving some songs, such as the dark acoustic jam “Anna Paula,” an unsatisfying feel. — Peter Mongillo
The Wooden Birds play June 4 at Stubb’s with Explosions in the Sky.
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CD review: Eminem - ‘Relapse’
Eminem
‘Relapse’
(Interscope)
B-
“I’m just so (expletive) depressed/I just can seem to get out this slump/ If I could just get over this hump/ But I need something to pull me out this dump” - Eminem, “Beautiful”
Look, we understand Marshall Mathers has had a rough couple of years. His early mentor and best pal Proof died in 2006. Rumors of grief-driven drug use and food binges abounded. Chances of a comeback seemed slim and shady, especially given the strangely placeholding feel of his 2004 album “Encore.”
But there’s depressed and then there’s just being a jerk and there’s no particular evidence on “Relapse” that Eminem knows or cares about the difference. The horror-show lyrics which seemed funny and raw a decade ago, when Eminem was the most galvanizing figure in popular music, seem like weak beer here.
There’s Em as an escaped psychopath, whacked on Klonopin going on a black-out killing spree (“3 a.m.”).
There’s Em turning a rape at the hands of his stepfather into a sitcom in “Insane.”
There’s Em yammering about Mom and her pill problem again (“My Mom”) and complaining about Mariah Carey (“Bagpipes from Baghdad”). Carey seems to have gotten over him; he should probably do the same. Em’s mom probably has moved on, too.
As anyone who has seen the unfortunate video to “We Made You” can attest, for a guy who has spent the last couple of years on his rear watching TV, his cultural targets aren’t exactly up to date. (The most recent one is Sarah Palin, which is at least from the past 12 months.)
Two things saves this slab of bad vibes from complete degradation. The first is Dr. Dre, one of the best beat-smiths who ever lived. Dre discovered Mathers and with him rediscovered himself; Eminem enabled Dre’s career to have the third act virtually unheard of in hip-hop. Having him back at the reins, supplying beats for all but one song, gives the songs deep focus bass and rich drums.
The second is Em’s withering disdain for the celebrity culture he knows he’s a part of. When he takes cheap shots at folks like Jessica Simpson and Kim Kardashian, he must know he’s not that much farther up the celebrity food chain. It doesn’t make up for all the raping and killing and drug-gobbling in the lyrics, which he really should be moving past by now. But it does give “Relapse” a savage cynicism that makes this symphony of self-loathing one of the year’s nastiest albums.
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CD reviews: Passion Pit, John Vanderslice
Passion Pit
‘Manners’
(Frenchkiss)
B+
It’s been a big year for Boston-based psych-poppers Passion Pit, who followed up last year’s well-received EP, a catchy DIY effort recorded by frontman Michael Angelakos as a Valentine’s Day gift for his girlfriend, with a strong showing at SXSW and a tour that will have the band on stage at several high-profile festivals, including Austin City Limits in October. The tour comes on the heels of their full-length debut, “Manners,” on which the full band joins Angelakos for a decidedly more polished set of songs, with the exception of the standout “Sleepyhead,” a holdover from the EP. The production, which is more reminiscent of bloated mainstream pop recordings than of the band’s indie roots, threatens to spoil the album, but Angelakos gets a pass on the strength of his introspective song writing style, which has matured since the release of the EP. Highlights include the punchy, synth-heavy “Little Secrets,” as well as “The Reeling,” an ’80s-esque dance number destined for remixing.
— Peter Mongillo
Passion Pit plays June 3 at Emo’s and in October at the Austin City Limits Music Festival.
John Vanderslice
‘Romanian Names’
(Dead Oceans)
B+
After two musically elegant but lyrically clunky slices of post-9/11 liberal ennui, 2004’s “Pixel Revolt” and 2007’s “Emerald City,” San Francisco’s John Vanderslice returns with a vengeance to relevance in the intriguing “Romanian Names.”
Vanderslice largely abandons politics on his seventh album, settling instead for a series of intimate torch songs that combine his signature hi-fi analog sound with compellingly enigmatic lyrics. Opener “Tremble and Tear” combines propulsive acoustic guitar with vocals awash in reverb for a striking pop gem. Vanderslice even ventures outside his usual boundaries with “D.I.A.L.O.” and “Too Much Time,” both featuring a rare appearance of synthesizers.
That’s not to say Vanderslice never gets dark — the album’s best track, the violent “Forest Knolls,” features a constant heartbeat that evokes Edgar Allan Poe. But even the saddest tracks contain a glimmer of hope.
When Vanderslice pledges to look up to the nautically themed Carina Constellation in the superb song of the same name, there’s a sense that he’s trying to look as brightly on the future as he does on the stars in the Southern Sky. — Patrick Caldwell
John Vanderslice plays in October at the Austin City Limits Music Festival
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Live review: TV on the Radio at Stubb’s
First, the TV.
TV on the Radio singer Tunde Adebimpe is a stellar frontman. Saturday night at a packed Stubb’s, he danced around the stage and sang with one arm flailing, his movements varying between metronome and the more obtuse time-keeping of a free jazz drummer - you sort of knew when the arm was going to flail out, but it was always a cool surprise when it did. As this band keeps on its upward popularity swing, his thick, squarish eyeglasses could become as iconic as Kanye’s preppie chic or Tim McGraw’s hat. He’s a riveting guy to watch and he’s about 90 percent of the band’s live stage presence.
Now, the radio.
I have seen TV on the Radio a handful of times in Austin and once at Lollapalooza — not once has the sound been any good. It’s tough to tell if this is the band’s design or if it’s just Austin, a town with far fewer good sounding rooms than the sentence “the Live Music Capital of the World” should indicate.
This was no different at Stubb’s, a venue with a usually reliable mix.
While TV on the Radio albums try to blur sound sources — is that a guitar? A synth? Tunde’s voice? — live, it turned into a baffling smear with Tunde’s vocals, sometimes treated, often raw, vanishing in and out of the mix. Opening with “Dirtywhirl,” lyrics were largely imperceptible, which is too band for a band that has prided itself on wordy smarts. Songs came alive when there was a groove that could be perceived all over the venue, kicking things up a notch, but mostly the sound coming from the stage blended smeary guitar, a sax and ambient bass. From the level of chatter in the crowd - rarely low at outdoor shows, but especially noticeable here - few outside of those at the front of the stage could be bothered to pay attention to the music. (For the record, outside of the first few rows, the sound seemed least awful on the stairs near the stage left bar.)
Even those who enjoyed it seemed surprised by the band’s short set, which lasted an hour, plus a three-song encore. Feel free to insert “this food is terrible and portions are too small joke here.”
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