Austin Music Source

Santa’s worst enemy returned with a bang Saturday when Dangerous Toys reloaded at Red Eyed Fly for a one-night stand of hair-metal mischief.

As Austin’s late-’80s bullet-belt rock champs, the Toys once played in the same box as L.A. Guns, Faster Pussycat and other mid-level motley crews. Tours with Alice Cooper, Judas Priest and the Cult kept the carousel spinning until the life of leather and leisure disappeared in the gloom of Nirvana.

To the delight of Saturday’s 200 Backroom refugees, the Toys still enjoy random returns to the playground.

Opening with “Gunfighter” from the the 1991 sophomore album, “Hellacious Acres,” singer Jason McMaster screeched with the red-faced fury of Janis Joplin while guitarists Scott Dalhover (bald) and Paul Lidel (hair to spare) traded sharp jabs of shredded blues. Bassist Mike Watson sported a bandanna-beneath-a-backward ball cap and was returned to health after illness postponed the gig a few months earlier. Curtain-haired drummer Mark Geary caffeinated the pulse.

The hard-charging “Outlaw” was followed by “Sugar, Leather & the Nail,” the bluesy bop of “Take Me Drunk” and the teeth-chattering scat of “Gimme No Lip,” which melted into a snippet of Iron Maiden’s “Runnin’ Free.” Somewhere in the flashback, a shout of “Watchtower” referenced McMaster’s pre-Toys thrash band and drew a raised eyebrow and appreciative grin from Austin’s well-traveled, current Broken Teeth singer.

As expected, the radio and MTV hits were greeted like high school crushes. Peppered among gems from the Toys’ overlooked third album, “Pissed,” the hits included the jet-engine vocals of “Queen of the Nile,” the sing-along shout of “Line ‘Em Up” and the silly slyness of “Sport’N a Woody.” A rarely heard “Demon Bell” was summoned from Wes Craven’s schlock flick, “Shocker,” before the two-hour gig came to a close with a bump-and-grind punch of “Teas’N Pleas’N” and “Scared.”

All told, the Toys were sturdy as a Tonka, skinny as a stick and still a whole lotta fun.

(David Glessner is a freelance music writer in Austin.)

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November 3, 2008

Review: Mountain Goats at Antone's

The nasally sneer of the California-based Mountain Goats frontman John Darnielle doesn’t appeal to everyone. In fact, to many, it’s downright annoying.

But just a couple songs into the band’s set on Saturday at Antone’s, it was clear that despite his off-putting vocal inflection, Darnielle delivers his expertly crafted words with more passion and precision than most of his folk-rocking peers.

During each song, the singer was animated, strutting around the stage in staccatoed movements with his acoustic guitar, but always returning to the microphone in time to belt his vibrant verse in perfect pitch. His backing band, made up of nothing more than a bass guitar and drums, pounded out energetic rhythms that gave the simple, lyric-driven songs a surprisingly dynamic sound for a three-piece.

The sold-out crowd was with the band completely. They cheered ecstatically as the hard-driving numbers reached their climaxes, and when Darnielle sang subdued songs like “So Desperate” in a voice that barely reached above a whisper, they were so silent that you could hear the whoosh of passing traffic just outside the venue’s doors.

This undivided attention did not go unnoticed. After playing “Dinu Lipatti’s Bones,” Darnielle explained the song’s despondent origins and thanked the crowd for singing along. From that point on, he delivered similar monologues between songs with words almost as eloquent as the lyrics of the songs themselves.

Opener Kaki King joined the Mountain Goats onstage near the end of the set to perform songs she and Darnielle wrote for their recently released “Black Pear Tree” and “Satanic Messiah” EPs, before the Goats burst into an uptempo encore of “This Year.”

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October 31, 2008

Review: TV on the Radio at Stubb's

A band as tirelessly innovative as TV on the Radio shouldn’t play the same songs in the same order back-to-back nights, but that’s exactly what happened Thursday at Stubb’s. The disappointing realization that a facsimile of the Houston show from the night prior was being transmitted — sure, practice makes perfect, but not when it comes at the expense of improvisation — only exacerbated sad but true comments made by a random concertgoer who came only for the opening band the Dirtbombs: TVOTR’s music is cold, dense and lacking in hooks.

Come to think of it, there aren’t many parts to their songs that you find yourself singing over and over in your head. But that doesn’t mean the words and melodies buried in the Brooklyn prog-rockers’ enthralling mix of industrial-strength loops and jazz-funk instrumentation aren’t poignant, because they are. Nor does it mean the show wasn’t any good, because it was.

A frantic, sped-up “The Wrong Way,” from their debut album “Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes,” had co-frontman Tunde Adebimpe likening himself to Barack Obama, when he sang about a new politician stirring inside him. This foreshadowing of change was taken to the next level on the next song, “Golden Age,” from TVOTR’s new album, “Dear Science.” Fellow co-frontman Kyp Malone sang about the utopian future that could result from said politician, while someone disguised as a ginger man cookie — perhaps in homage to TVOTR’s second album “Return to Cookie Mountain,” definitely in homage to Halloween — bounded about onstage.

Subsequent “Cookie Mountain” cuts “Province,” “Dirtywhirl” and “A Method,” with their a capella doo-wops and unified hand claps running up against the seven-piece’s guitar squalls, droning synths and skronking horns, continued to define TVOTR’s brand of music as the shape of things to come for soul. There just wasn’t much soul in the rehearsed way that sound played out.

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October 27, 2008

Review: Kings of Leon at Austin Music Hall

Kings of Leon frontman Caleb Followill cut his locks and still the ladies flocked. He jeered UT’s football team and still he was cheered. He and his band of two brothers and one cousin played vapid arena rockers from their hollow new album, “Only By the Night,” and still the sold-out Austin Music Hall crowd sang along. Kings of Leon could do no wrong Saturday, as they put on a clinic in setlist sequencing.

They started with “Crawl,” one of the new album’s better songs, and moved backward — a song from each of their three previous albums — until they reached their hallmark, “Molly’s Chambers,” from their debut album, “Youth & Young Manhood.” The crowd was lathered. It was time to complete the bait and switch.

“Sex on Fire,” their anthemic new single, led off a four-song string from “Only By the Night.” Caleb wrote the album’s melodies and lyrics in a post-surgery haze induced by pain pills and wine. A downside to the solipsism inherent in that was the song “Be Somebody,” wherein cousin Matthew’s guitar-playing with his teeth had to salvage Caleb’s overly earnest refrain, “Given a chance, I’m gonna be somebody.” (What are you waiting for?) An upside, though, was “Closer,” a sinister and soulful slow jam about a lovesick vampire, the likes of which can only be conceived in an altered state.

A hard right put Kings of Leon back in the stomping grounds of “Aha Shake Heartbreak.” A raunchy, boogie-woogie romp through some of that album’s greatest hits — “Milk,” “Four Kicks,” and “The Bucket” — brought it back to how it was when everyone was first turned on to the Kings. Pogo-dancing and fist-pumping on par with a high school house party abounded, and only occasionally let up through the rest of the set. Even Caleb, usually a cardboard-cutout, moved his skinny hips.

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October 26, 2008

Rise Against show canceled

Rise Against lead singer Tim McIlrath has lost his voice, prompting the group to cancel its Sunday night show at the Austin Music Hall.

A Monday performance in Houston has also been nixed, according to Rise Against’s management team.

Refunds are available at point of purchase.

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October 21, 2008

Review: Girl Talk at Emo's

Think of popular recorded music as a bowl of Lucky Charms cereal. About a three-to-one ratio of those mealy oat bits to sugar-loaded marshmallow pieces, which seems to be about the same rate that bona fide thrilling musical hooks emerge out of mostly nondescript sonic gunk.

Therein lies the fuel behind the rise of DJ superstar Girl Talk (nee Greg Gillis); he knows the marshmallows are all that matter on the dance floor.

They were flying left and right Monday night when Gillis took to his laptop on the stage at Emo’s and set to his musical alchemy, creating a bizarro world where samples of tracks by Sinead O’Connor, Lil Wayne, UGK and Rage Against The Machine not only coexist, but dare you not to dance feverishly.

Gillis has said in reports that each minute of his records take about a day’s worth of tinkering and mixing to produce, with his live shows serving as a sort of test tube where he can judge what combinations will and won’t work on record. Judging by Monday’s show, he isn’t cooking up a whole lot of new stuff since his set consisted of lots of familiar moments (with slight tweaks) from his breakout albums, 2006’s “Night Ripper” and the new “Feed The Animals.”

And it worked since fans got to hear thrilling pairings like Avril Lavigne and Toni Basil double teaming T-Pain, or Notorious B.I.G.’s “Juicy” underlined with Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” at ear-shattering volume.

That last pairing is pretty much Gillis’ “Stairway To Heaven” (which shockingly he’s never sampled. Yet.), a signature moment that’s at the top of fans’ lists when pondering his body of work. It was among the highest peaks he reached during his respectable but still kinda brief 90 minute set Monday, though it wasn’t like too many in attendance were complaining as they left, dazed, sweaty and nearly sugar-shocked from all those marshmallows that got tossed their way.

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Review: Weezer at Erwin Center

That Weezer made room in their set Monday night at the Frank Erwin Center for covers by Pink Floyd (“Time”) and Nirvana (“Sliver”) is certainly a barometer of their admirably catholic taste, but the show indicated something more significant and encouraging: They are, as advertised, having fun again.

This is very good news. Although always a polarizing presence in the indie-pop landscape, there’s no denying that singer-songwriter-guitarist Rivers Cuomo writes irresistibly catchy songs, equal parts sunshine and sludge, and could probably come up with hooks in his REM sleep that REM would kill for. But by the last time they stopped here a couple of years ago, they seemed a little deflated. They were touring to support “Make Believe,” also known as “Worst. Album. Ever.,” and in their co-headlining bill at the Bowl with the Foo Fighters, Dave Grohl and his bunch pretty much mopped the floor with them.

Wearing matching white jumpsuits or coveralls (which they later shed to reveal … red jumpsuits or coveralls), the band this time came out of the blocks hard with “My Name is Jonas,” the opening blast from 1994’s so-called “blue album.” Fairly predictable, but soon enough it became apparent the band would be changing more than their clothes, and that Weezer is now not just Cuomo and three other guys. Bassist Scott Shriner handled vocals on “Keep Fishin’” and “Dope Nose,” Cuomo played some drums, drummer Patrick Wilson played guitar — the guy can really play, too — and Tom DeLonge, the singer for opener Angels & Airwaves, helped out on “Undone — The Sweater Song.”

Were some of the songs a little ragged? Sure, but it was plain the guys in the band were having a great time and it was hard not to get swept along — the whole thing felt goofy and audacious, not a gimmick cooked up by a tired and desperate band. Then, in a move that harkened back to their recent “Hootenanny” mini-tour, they hauled maybe three or four dozen people onto the stage, people who played everything from guitar to banjo to trombone and sousaphone — who knows, there might have been a theremin up there somewhere — to play, or rather get through, “Island in the Sun” and “Beverly Hills.” They they shuffled the civilians off and reclaimed the stage, encoring with “Buddy Holly.”

By that point Cuomo had stripped down to his Motley Crue T-shirt, a reminder that he was once a desperate kid who believed in the redemptive power of music. And now he’s a rock star, maybe the first one ever to sing about Rogaine (and if he’s not using it, his thinning crown suggests he should). How cool is that? How cool is Weezer? The answer, although it will not please the haters, is this: a lot cooler than you thought. So there.

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October 20, 2008

Review: Hotel Cafe Tour with Ingrid Michaelson, Meiko, Priscilla Ahn, Erin McCarley and Laura Jansen

The Hotel Café Tour hit Austin’s Parish on Friday with an all-female lineup, showcasing talent from five up-and-coming singer/songwriters.

The Tour, named after a coffee shop-turned-venue in L.A., has been a performance outlet for a rotating cast of musicians for four years. It doesn’t emphasize headliners, but instead encourages performers to share the stage.

Friday’s show featured Ingrid Michaelson, Meiko, Priscilla Ahn, Erin McCarley and Laura Jansen. When they needed backup, each of these artists were accompanied by the same band for their separate sets. They also enlisted each other’s help for some songs.

The rapport between the musicians and the ease with which they engaged the crowd between songs and sets made the show as a whole feel intimate and lively.

The music was equally enjoyable. Ahn and Meiko mostly played solo acoustic numbers, but Ahn’s looped melodies gave her songs a full, orchestral sound, while Meiko’s soft arrangements stood well on their own.

Jansen also played solo, but her songs were of the piano-driven pop variety. The explosive power of her voice was most evident, however, when the band joined her for the reggae-infused “Soljah.”

Michaelson and McCarley both played power-pop rock songs. McCarley’s low register melodies in particular bounced beautifully between well-placed pauses on “Blue Suitcase.”

But one of the best aspects of the show was its format. Each musician played two short sets over the three-hour period. The music moved at a brisk pace, ensuring that the audience never grew restless.

This format also gave each musician the chance to play in both earlier and later time slots in the performance, so most audience members got to hear every artist, no matter what time they arrived at the show.

The Hotel Café Tour will continue through the U.S. this fall. As always, the roster of artists will vary. Some proceeds from this round of all-female musicians will go to UNFPA and Amnesty International’s Stop Violence Against Women Campaign.

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October 14, 2008

Review: The Cardinals Featuring Ryan Adams

Wildly prolific, alt-country whiz Ryan Adams went from starving for attention to not wanting any attention at all. Were it his decision, he’d file “Cardinology,” his new album out Oct. 28, under “Cardinals,” the handle for his four-piece backing band, instead of “Ryan Adams.” But the idea of ditching his brand name was apparently nixed by his label, leaving the marquis last night at the Paramount to read “The Cardinals Featuring Ryan Adams.”

Adams’ newfound appreciation for humility was probably a response to the bad rep he’s gotten for his verbal jarring. He walked the straight-and-narrow at the Paramount by letting the music speak for itself for most of the first set of a muscular, two-and-a-half-hour, two-set show. In between instantly intriguing “Cardinology” numbers including “Fix It,” “Magick,” and “Cobwebs,” wherein he and fellow guitarist Neal Casal harmonized “If I fall, will you catch me?,” Adams blew his nose and bit his lip through a barrage of playful catcalls and unsolicited song requests.

Eventually the urge to banter became too much. Adams ribbed Casal about Casal’s new guitar, which Adams had anointed “Sparrowmyth.”

“Only this guy could come up with that,” Casal confided to the audience.

“It’s a play on Aerosmith,” Adams countered.

A repartee about Joe Perry, coke, and barbecue sauce ensued between the two. It was so quick and witty, it was either rehearsed or Adams and Casal are two totally synced-in dudes. The second set didn’t nullify the former, but it definitely affirmed the latter.

Under a backdrop of two entrancing, blue neon roses, Adams and Casal — augmented by Chris Feinstein on bass, Jon Graboff on pedal steel, and Brad Pemberton on drums — let it ride with “Off Broadway” and “Two,” from last year’s “Easy Tiger,” and “Cold Roses” and “Easy Plateau,” from the double-disc “Cold Roses.” And then the show, tainted only by a limp cover of Oasis’s “Wonderwall,” came to a resounding end when, for the first time all night, Pemberton banged on the gong behind his drum kit.

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Review: Kal at the Cactus Cafe

The Balkans came to campus Monday night, as Belgrade’s Romani band Kal made its way to the Cactus Cafe fresh from a weekend at San Antonio’s International Accordion Fest. Tour manager and Roma activist Sani Rifati provided a long introduction, warning an obviously savvy audience not to expect the “bandanas, hoop earrings, and gold teeth” that are clichés of “gypsy” music, a label rejected by many Roma.

Instead, listeners saw a muscular hybrid band that (taking cues from the border-free world music of Manu Chao) fused traditional sounds with rock and various other influences, often playing at furious speeds but never veering toward punk or noise, as Gogol Bordello does. Adding dual accordions, a violinist and percussionist — who occasionally stood up for solo vocalizations suggesting an Eastern European human beatbox — to a four-piece rock lineup, the group never lacked for activity, but bandleader Dragan Ristic, on guitar and vocals, provided a charismatic focal point.

Ristic tossed off acerbic jokes about misperceptions his people have endured, encouraged audience participation, and even made a convincing substitute for Montenegran rapper “Rambo Amadeus” on “Komedija,” a track from the band’s self-titled debut CD. But he didn’t have to do anything to encourage dancing: Even before the show’s organizers offered extra room in front of the stage, what open floor space could be found was filled with more self-made means of bodily expression than the Cactus has probably seen in years.

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September 22, 2008

Review: Pinback at the Mohawk

Take one listen to the clockwork precision on any of Pinback’s angularly constructed indie rock albums, and it’s immediately clear that the driving forces behind the band, Rob Crow and Zach Smith, never let a beat or note fall by the wayside.

Pinback proved that their live show is no exception when they played to a tightly packed crowd on Saturday night at the outdoor stage of the Mohawk. On both upbeat numbers like the hard-driving “From Nothing to Nowhere” and more subdued ones like the melancholy “Blood’s on Fire,” the clean chords of Crow’s guitar slid and stuttered in perfect time with Smith’s bass lines, while the drums pounded out tight rhythms. For the majority of the show, Smith strummed chords on the bass, which added depth and texture to the set.

Stripped of the many vocal layers present on the band’s studio albums, Crow’s vocals in particular floated atop the mix with surprising clarity. He dashed the verses of the classic “Penelope” with graceful shouts and touches of vibrato, which showcased his vocal control.

Unfortunately, a few minor setbacks on the technical side made for a tedious wait between many songs. The band even stopped in the middle of the last song in their four-song encore, only to pick up a minute later.

A new keyboardist joined Pinback for this performance because their usual keyboardist, Terrin Durfey, is again battling cancer. Posters that featured the album artwork of their latest effort, “Autumn of the Seraphs,” were available at the merch table in exchange for donations to the Durfey family. Additional donations can be made here.

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Review: Ani DiFranco at Stubb's

With a new baby in her life and a new album on the way, it’s a wonder that Ani DiFranco has time to prepare for the demands of live performance. But judging by her show Sunday at Stubb’s, musical endeavors simply come easily for the singer/songwriter.

DiFranco’s backing band, which consisted of a drummer, stand-up bassist and xylophonist, perfectly complemented the frantic dissonant sounds of her guitar and the rapid staccato rhythms of her vocals. This chemistry was apparent early with the performance of “Here for Now,” which featured a xylophone solo over energetic tango percussion.

DiFranco’s set offered an eclectic glimpse of her catalogue. She performed songs from classic albums such as “Little Plastic Castle” and even reached back to her second release, 1991’s “Not So Soft,” for the song “Anticipate.”

More than any other album, however, DiFranco played from her forthcoming “Red Letter Year,” which drops on Sept. 30. Some, like the title track, which twisted the innocence of a cliché nursery rhyme with the harshness of a drug reference, showed that she is still a master of lyricism. Others, like “Smiling Underneath,” were simply cliché. But because her vocal delivery was so clear and her band’s performance so tight, the audience never grew bored or agitated when these new, unfamiliar numbers showed up in the set.

In fact, one of the highlights of the show was “Way Tight,” a lullaby off the new album with a jazzy, unpredictable chord progression that danced up and down the fret board. For this song, DiFranco’s band left the stage to let the rich, soothing melodies of the song shine.

Luckily for fans, the new album was available for purchase. If the show was any indication, they won’t be disappointed with the new material.

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September 19, 2008

Tonight at Emo's: David Berman and Silver Jews

(Silver Jews with James Jackson Toth play tonight at Emo’s. Charles Potts Magic Windmill Band play Emo’s outside. $12 advance, $14 at the door. Doors at 9 p.m., show at 10. 603 Red River St. 477-3667, emosaustin.com.) (Photo of David Berman of Silver Jews by Stefano Giovannini.)

David Berman had good reason to believe he was unrealized potential personified. “Until age 38,” the Silver Jews frontman says by way of e-mail, “I thought I was doomed as a writer because I slept in and took naps.”

That was three years ago, around the time Berman woke up from a serious substance-abuse problem and released “Tanglewood Numbers.” The album, his fifth in 11 years, was a career breakthrough and finally granted the veteran indie rocker props on par with Stephen Malkmus, an original Silver Jew who went on to form Pavement.

Berman’s redemption song continues to be fleshed out with the recent release of “Tanglewood” followup “Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea.” Like David Carr’s frank drug-recovery memoir “The Night of the Gun,” it excavates a dark past in order to build a bright future. And it does so by drawing from a host of influences. As part of the media materials, Berman, who is also a cartoonist, sketched an indecipherable chart comprising sources of inspiration that include presidential campaign songs, Thomas Paine’s “Common Sense,” and the Pet Shop Boys.

“It was all part of an attempt of mine to encourage critics to make connections,” Berman writes, “to put such an amount of information about the composition and recording that unique responses would result. Silver Jews: encouraging exegesis since 1993.” And so here is one critic’s interpretation of some of the songs. “What Is Not But Could Be If” is the equivalent of another foot forward in the 12-step program, wherein Berman’s baritone constructs a bridge between failure and success, risk and reward. On the country-cool cut “Suffering Jukebox,” featuring Berman’s wife Cassie on “Laurel Canyon” backing vocals, a “sad machine” shouldering other peoples’ problems is a metaphor for Berman in his former state of misery. Meanwhile, “Candy Jail” says that once you’re an addict, you’re always an addict, as Berman trades in his gluttonous drug habit for an equally perilous addiction to jelly beans and cookie dough.

“There’s a lot of food on the album,” Berman writes. “Maybe some couple will have a dinner where only food from the lyrics are served.”

Berman will recite his quirky, wordy confessionals Friday at Emo’s. Prior to “Tanglewood,” touring had always been out of the question. But a string of 47 consecutive sold-out shows in support of that album showed Berman what he’d been missing. Still, life on the road in the age of sobriety is forever paved with temptation. Has the close proximity to a little taste of his bygone junkie days ever been too hard to handle? Has the nightmare of relapse ever been a concern?

“A kid in Pittsburgh whispered, ‘Got some H, looking for some C,’ into my ear, and I just laughed,” Berman writes.

Translation: apparently not.

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September 16, 2008

Review: Ratatat at Stubb's

In a city where fans of indie rock generally meet live music with little more than approving head nods, it can be hard for bands to get crowds to actually dance.

But the instrumental outfit Ratatat did just that Monday night at Stubb’s. Usually a duo, guitarist Mike Stroud and multi-instrumentalist Evan Mast were joined by a keyboardist for 15 rounds of searing prog riffs backed by face-shaking hip-hop beats that had the sold-out crowd waving their hands, jumping and moving without shame to the music.

In Ratatat fashion, the entertainment didn’t come solely from the sounds produced by the band. The visual sequences projected on a screen behind the band were genuinely bizarre — one showed Buddhist monks with iridescent blocks of light shielding their eyes while they clutched ropes between their praying hands and Hebraic texts scrolled on the walls around them.

But from the set-opener to the encore it was clear that the images were carefully chosen and flawlessly synced. The tropical sounding “Brulee” was backed by flowing waves, while more aggressive numbers featured explosions typical of action movies. In every case, the movement on the screen punctuated the hard-hitting moments in the songs.

The music alone would have made Ratatat’s performance memorable. The harmonized notes of Stroud’s solos glided through each number with grace and a sense of metal melody, while the thundering bass of the backing samples pulsed with an energy that is hard to match on a home stereo. On fan favorites like “Wildcat” and “Seventeen Years,” many audience members were too busy dancing to watch the displays anyway.

Mixing and matching musical genres and live performance techniques is disastrous for many bands, but Ratatat does it well.

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September 11, 2008

Grupo Fantasma show moved one week

Because of the hurricane, the Grupo Fantasma show scheduled for Sunday night at Antone’s has been moved back a week, to Sept. 21. (It’s a benefit for the Texas Democratic Party.) Tickets will be honored.

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September 7, 2008

Review: Squeeze at La Zona Rosa

At La Zona Rosa Friday night, new wave hitmakers Squeeze had no comeback record to promote. Instead, they stuck with oldie-goodie types, pleasing a full house that, minus one or two faux-blokes who tried proving their British sensibility by yelling “Oi! Oi! Oi!,” was attentive if not over-effusive.

Fastball set the stage with new songs (from an album they intend to release next year) and crowd-pleasers “The Way” and “Out of My Head.” The headliners arrived with a “Strong in Reason” that sounded substantially friendlier than the original recording but, like most others here, was still pretty close. Standing before a video screen offering footage that was sometimes obvious (vintage percolator ads to accompany “Black Coffee in Bed”), sometimes clever (a slide show of difficult duos like Abbott & Costello and Sonny & Cher for “If I Didn’t Love You”) but most often a repetitive distraction from the band, they focused on their earliest albums with exceptions like the later U.S. hit “Hourglass.”

Aside from coaching the crowd good-naturedly on the proper way to sing along with “Coffee” — those trying it at home should repeat the “last four syllables” of each line — singer Glenn Tilbrook hardly spoke between songs but was in beautiful voice during them, his high notes demonstrating none of the 30-plus years since the group’s start.

Returned partner Chris Difford was a touch less lively, with a perfunctory backup vocal on “Tempted,” but shone on some of his own songs and in the killer double-barrel tune “Take Me I’m Yours.”

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September 4, 2008

Review and live shots: GZA at Emo's

Rapper GZA of the WuTang Clan was in the house for Emo’s 16th birthday celebration last night. Check out live shots from the show.

• Photos: GZA at Emo’s

Orson Welles had it easy. Shackled as he was throughout his career by his early greatness, and inability to replicate it, at least he didn’t have to trot around the globe doing stage renditions of “Citizen Kane” every time he needed to score a buck.

Which brings us to Wu-Tang Clan shining light GZA/Genius, who should just have the phrase “performing ‘Liquid Swords’” legally added to his name at this point since he’s been operating under the shadow of his monstrously revered debut album for the better part of a decade.

It was there on the bill for Wednesday’s show at Emo’s, attracting a mix of hardcore hip-hop heads who were either hip to GZA’s precise lyrical dexterity from the beginning or latched on as “Sword“‘s reputation blossomed through the years while his able followups have foundered.

That’s what the jam-packed crowd came for though, and they were happy from the moment the Long Island MC stepped onto the stage — outfitted simply in a black GZA T-shirt and backward ball cap — and laced into the razor-sharp lyrics of classics like “Duel of the Iron Mic” and “Swordsmen.” It was obvious GZA hasn’t lost any skill or enthusiasm for this material and on Wednesday seemed much more engaged than during a particularly lackluster “Liquid Swords” Revue in March at Stubb’s during SXSW.

The downfall of the revue approach, though, is that it caters to the past and that the few cuts from “Beneath The Surface” or the new “Pro Tools” scattered in the 85 minutes got a merely polite reception when they deserve much better.

The ravenous cheers were, of course, reserved for classics like a verse from deceased Wu-Tanger Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s “Shimmy Shimmy Ya” or the mere mention of “Clan In Da Front,” his standout track from Wu-Tang’s artform-changing debut.

By that point it was clear that for GZA and his fanbase “Clan” and “Liquid Swords” have become their answer answer to Welles and Charles Foster Kane’s “rosebud”; an escape to an earlier, simpler time that gains luster through the fog of years.

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August 29, 2008

Review: Alejandro Escovedo, Ian McLagan, (the Reivers?) at Antone's

Thursday’s benefit for the Austin Child Guidance Center was an all-star event with bite-sized sets. With most of the Antone’s floor devoted to silent auctions, VIP sponsor tables, and — what? — folding chairs, the music was the main event but had stiff competition. (Happily for the bands, the first round of auctioneering saw a stack of signed Ian McLagan records outperform, on a bid-versus-retail-price basis, a 50” plasma TV and a bike presented by a beauty queen.)

After quick sets from the Reivers — hinting at a new album and, if John Croslin was to be believed, another new name — and Ian McLagan — whose drummer Don Harvey organized the event — came one whose briefness made sense, coming as it did between somewhat more demanding gigs: playing the Democratic National Convention and opening for Bruce Springsteen.

Alejandro Escovedo may have needed some rest recently, but he was anything but exhausted here, ripping through a set heavy on rockers from his latest record. Slowing down only for “Sister Lost Soul” and to repeatedly thank the Child Guidance Center for the work they do, he began with “Always a Friend” and was soon worked up enough to have to ditch his black-and-blue iridescent suit jacket. Leading a four-piece, strings-free band, he worked the crowd up with “Chelsea Hotel ‘78” and “Real as an Animal” before zipping off the stage and disappearing — heading home, one guesses, to carefully pack his red leather shoes for a Saturday show in Milwaukee with the Boss.

Click here to view photos from the show.

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August 12, 2008

In the Clubs with Dead Earth Politics

• Photos: In the Clubs 2008

Metal hacks itself into subgenres with a verve and enthusiasm little seen in other musics. There’s thrash metal, black metal, death metal, grind, metalcore, groove metal, blackened thrash, death/black and, yes, Viking folk metal (wouldn’t that be “volk” met … look, never mind). Sometimes there’s crossover, sometimes there isn’t.

But Austin’s Dead Earth Politics is one of those rare contemporary metal bands that sound as if they could fit on any metal bill quite smoothly. The Black Sabbath-y mumble of stoner metal? Sign them up. That dream gig with Iron Maiden? No problem. The hideously precision-tooled runs of death metal? Singer Ven Scott can go “Cookie Monster” just fine. But Will Little’s bass lines betray interests outside of headbanging, and Scott’s singing veers more toward the melodic (there is Meat Loaf in this man’s past, I just know it). Dead Earth Politics is good for all seasons. Their EP “Mark the Resistance” embo