2006-11 Vital Source Mag – November 2006
My Morning Jacket @ The Riverside Theater
By Caz McChrystal + Photos by Kat Berger The Riverside Theater (GO HERE to see more photos from the show) My Morning Jacket presented a perfect specimen of an elusive form at the Riverside Theater this past Tuesday night, the modern rock concert. But it is difficult to tell what a rock & roll concert is supposed to look like circa 2006. Decades of formulaic mayhem have littered the genre with beefed-up boredom and created a vacuum. The days in which a rock band’s greatness was measured by its ability to roll into a city like Rommel and conquer a submissive audience waiting to be played at are over. Rather, My Morning Jacket exploded the notion of what a rock concert is by playing to a rapt audience and treating the show as if it was a fragile being to be nurtured and coaxed out into the open. By the time the lights at the Riverside had gone black and MMJ emerged to open with “Wordless Chorus,” the crowd was already on its feet and moving along with the intelligently complicated rhythms. And it stayed that way for the nearly two hours that MMJ played. The first quarter of the show steadily built upon itself, reaching a high point with the reggae nod “”Off the Record.” The tune’s intro, a direct quotation of the seminal Hawaii Five-O opening riff thawed-out the mid-November crowd, warming up the audience before cooling it down with a run of slower-paced songs. The downshift to slower, searching improvisations broke down the rock show format, in which slower songs usually get tossed in only sporadically, and then only to give the drummer a brief respite. Here, it felt as though the band wanted to give the audience a chance to regroup, and it was well timed. Although some of these extended instrumental breaks noodled a little too long, MMJ never lost the audience. Coming out of this mellow and spacey section, MMJ slid into “Golden,” an archetypal country song off the It Still Moves record. For that song, guitarist Carl Broemel sat before a pedal steel and belted out one of those heartbroken but hopeful Nashville harmonies that felt down home and far out at the same time. This wonderful slide playing, accompanied by the plaintive vocals of Jim James, drove home the fact that MMJ is not just a group of guys who plays instruments, but musicians who not only take pride in their craft, but take it seriously. My Morning Jacket ended its show with the anthemic “Mehgeetah,” which came at the close of a half hour long encore. The impact of the show, however, did not flow from any single song they unexpectedly pulled out or effectively performed, it came from the overall arc of the evening. The concert seemed to ebb and flow, rocking with high intensity for periods only to draw back into esoteric musical self-searching in other parts. The mood would change within some songs, and sometimes without any discernible […]
Nov 27th, 2006 by Vital Archives
Not Now, Darling
By Russ Bickerstaff With all the right treatment under the right conditions, life can be a late 60s British sex farce. One needs only gather the right adults together and get them to be a bit more fictitious than usual. No elaborate sets are needed. Costuming need not be extensive. The comedy comes naturally. With this social dynamic in place, RSVP Productions’ Artistic Director Raymond Bradford delves into an enjoyable evening of theatre as co-director and co-star in Ray Cooney and John Chapman’s 1969 hit comedy Not Now, Darling. Bradford himself stars as a diligent, honest furrier named Arnold Crouch. Alan Stevenson co-stars as his business partner Gilbert Bodley. Crouch, being a womanizing adulterous husband with a suspicious business sense, is quite the opposite of the virtuous Crouch. Crouch finds his morals slipping in a chain of events brought about when Bodley attempts to give a young married woman the gift of a very expensive fur coat. The chain of events is written to rush through the play in a blinding flurry. This is a comedy of escalation. With some 11 people in the cast swimming through the tiny stage at the Astor Theater, RSVP does a pretty good job of keeping things quickly enough to spark some laughs. The momentum may slip in places, but it rights itself quickly enough to shoot through a relatively entertaining evening of comedy. The roles are all written as exaggerated comic characters and the RSVP cast seems to have a really good time performing them. Kelly Simon plays the young Janie McMichael, hopeful recipient of Crouch’s gift coat. Simon plays Janie with the surreal affectations of a grossly amplified material girl. Earl Scharnick seems suitably confused as her husband Harry, who is also in an extramarital affair with an attractive young woman named Sue (played by Anne Miller) whose husband occasionally storms through the action, played by Ken Dillon. Things, of course, get even more complicated with Bodley’s wife Maude (Marcee Sturino) coming back early from vacation to find things in disarray. Notable supporting performances around the edges include Cynthia L. Paplaczyk as Bodley & Crouch’s oddly comic secretary and the tiny, talented Marilou Davido as a young, overly-friendly employee of the business. Rather than setting the production in a late 1960s England, Bradford has opted for a more ambiguous “Modern Metropolitan City” in the present. This spares the audience of having to hear a variety of different mid-western attempts at British accents, which makes the production all the more enjoyable. For anyone familiar with the style and pacing of dialogue in a British comedy however, it’s a bit disorienting. That ineffable use of silence, inflection and sarcasm with a hint of exaggeration seems to have been lifted from the script along with the accents. This distraction doesn’t detract enough from the comedy to be anything other than subtly confusing to those familiar with the genre. This is by no means deep or deeply moving comedy. Closing just one week before the Christmas […]
Nov 15th, 2006 by Vital Archives
Trudy Blue
By Jill Gilmer “Can I speak to them?” Ginger Andrews asks, referring to her family as she watches them weep at Ginger’s funeral. She poses the question to a fellow angel who is watching the funeral with her from their heavenly perch. “No,” the other angel replies. “That is what your life was for.” Talk to the people you love while you are still alive. This is the simple yet provocative message of Trudy Blue, a play by Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Marcia Norman presented by the Dramatists Theatre. The play is based on Ms. Norman’s personal journey after she learns that she has two months to live. Like Ms. Norman, lead character Ginger Andrews, a novelist, later learns that her doctor’s diagnosis of lung cancer is wrong. Thus, she will have to continue living her dreary life, a fate more devastating to Ginger than the death prediction. The play takes place nearly entirely in Ginger’s mind as she contemplates conversations with her family and with Trudy Blue, a character from one of her novels who also represents Ginger’s alter ego. The play mingles these “real conversations with imaginary people and imaginary conversations with real people” interchangeably, an intriguing technique that is at times confusing to the audience. Despite the erratic effectiveness of this dramatic technique, the play succeeds in illustrating the results that ensue when a writer channels painful thoughts and feelings into fictitious characters and stories instead of sharing them with the people involved. As a series of surprising revelations unfold over the course of the play, the audience witnesses the potential damage to relationships when a person conceals their true persona from the people they love. It’s a dynamic that is likely experienced by introverts and artists of many types. The Dramatists Theatre’s production of Trudy Blue is a commendable adaptation of a difficult story. Unfortunately, its overall impact is diminished by an inexperienced cast, which offers the audience minimal assistance in understanding or caring about the two central characters, Ginger and her alter-ego, Trudy Blue. A tedious first act may lose some audience members while the stage is set for the more compelling second half. This notwithstanding, a play of this complexity is an impressive accomplishment for a theatre company in its second season, operating on a shoe-string budget. (The actors were not paid, and artistic director Marjorie Shoemann also manned the box office and snack bar.)VS Trudy Blue is the second installment in the Dramatists Theatre’s series of plays by Marcia Norman. Each season, the company showcases the work of a single playwright. Trudy Blue runs through Saturday, November 18 at the Marian Center for Non-Profits, 3211 S. Lake Drive. Tickets are $16. For reservations, please call 414-243-9168.
Nov 15th, 2006 by Vital Archives
The Hold Steady
By DJ Hostettler Once upon a time back in the 1980s, there was a genre called “alternative.” It’s hard to believe these days, but back in the day, labeling a band “alternative” actually meant it was an alternative to what you’d hear on your local corporate top-40 radio station. Siouxsie and the Banshees didn’t sound like Pat Benatar, and that was a beautiful thing. Then when “alternative” became meaningless in the 90s, “indie rock” sprung up to remind us that no, Sebadoh doesn’t sound like Pearl Jam either. These days, indie rock still doesn’t sound like what you’ll hear on the local Top 40 station, but thanks to The Hold Steady, it definitely sounds like your local classic rock station. It’s an odd state of affairs when Vagrant Records’ hottest new acquisition sounds like Bob Seger with Thin Lizzy’s guitar solos, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing either. Boys and Girls in America is the perfect title for The Hold Steady’s third full-length. The no-frills hard rock herein evokes images of Midwestern blue-collar Night Moves-style Americana, while Craig Finn’s trademark love-‘em-or-hate-‘em spoken-sung vocals spin yarns about modern boys and girls going to “all ages hardcore matinee shows” (the crazy catchy “Massive Nights” ) and apparently taking lots and lots of drugs (just about every song on the album), giving the retro soundtrack distinctly modern subject matter. The constant theme of teenagers in love taking loads of drugs is worn thin by the end of the record – “Chillout Tent’s” dueling he-said/she-said boy/girl choruses are pretty annoying, to be blunt – but overall, Boys and Girls in America is solid, rockin’ and has a few potential classics (I dare you to not hum along with the “woah-woahs” in “Chips Ahoy” ) without sounding as stale as the classic rock it references. VS
Nov 15th, 2006 by Vital Archives
Give ‘Em Hell, Harry
By Peggy Sue Dunigan Speaking directly, loudly and customarily cursing, Harry S. Truman’s voice and words ring shockingly true and remain relevant in the production of Give ‘Em Hell, Harry that opened at the Boulevard Ensemble Studio Theatre November 8. The audience in the packed space greatly appreciated those words, generously sprinkled with humor and truth, both of which marked Truman’s life. Moving through the time and space of Truman’s adult years on stage, Don Devona aptly caries the one man show. Dapper in a taupe double breasted suit, Devona appears both presidential and genuinely familiar, although slightly frail. The production builds steam through the second act as Truman reminisces about the “whistle stop” campaign of 1948, ending vibrantly as he struts with his walking cane on the streets of his hometown Independence, Missouri. Opening on the day after an election that witnessed the Democrats making stunning gains, Give ‘Em Hell, Harry surprises with the timelessness of the truths expressed. Truman begins as he describes his first political campaign for county judge of Jackson County (“a new war of words instead of guns” ) after returning from France in World War I. Continuing through to World War II, Truman again reflects on after only 86 days as the 33rd President, thinking, wrestling with the decision to “drop the bomb.” He claims, “Options… didn’t have any options. Thought it was going to end the war. Dropped one. Dropped another. They capitulated. Would do the same damn thing if I thought it was going to end the war. Waiting for someone to apologize for Pearl Harbor.” As it is for politicians today, war was consistently on his mind. And facing war for a third time as he utters these thoughts on Korea: “Damn Korea thing…blowing up in our faces.” Truman again could well be verbalizing current events, such as North Korea’s recent experiments with their own nuclear bomb in 2006. However, it’s the Korean War of 1950 to which he’s referring. “We weren’t there to win. What were we there for? To stop something. Preserve the peace of the world.” Has this been said before? Or is he speaking to the reality of war and “the innocent lives of American men and women are being destroyed. It’s a tragedy.” A tragedy, similar to 1940, 1950, decades later in Iraq; the same truths exist. As the play continues traveling through Truman’s life, whether spewing political or personal wisdom, the audience is left wondering what, if anything, has changed. For Truman addresses corruption in business, dirty politics, racism, falsified bids, public housing and the minimum wage. All timely subjects for any current political arguments. Speaking like a true Democrat to the Republicans 60 years ago, Truman says, “I’m not giving ‘em hell. I’m just telling them the truth to make them feel like they’re living in hell.” VS Give ‘Em Hell, Harry runs through November 19 at the Boulevard Ensemble Studio Theatre in Bay View. Tickets: $20.00 by reservation. Please call 414-744-5757 for details.
Nov 15th, 2006 by Peggy Sue Dunigan
Dangerous ignorance
By Melissa McEwan Recently, Jeff Stein made an alarming revelation in the New York Times: most counterterrorism officials and Congress members to whom he’s spoken don’t know the difference between a Sunni and a Shiite. “For the past several months, I’ve been wrapping up lengthy interviews with Washington counterterrorism officials with a fundamental question: Do you know the difference between a Sunni and a Shiite? “A ‘gotcha’ question? Perhaps. But if knowing your enemy is the most basic rule of war, I don’t think it’s out of bounds. And as I quickly explain to my subjects, I’m not looking for theological explanations, just the basics: Who’s on what side today, and what does each want? “…But so far, most American officials I’ve interviewed don’t have a clue. That includes not just intelligence and law enforcement officials, but also members of Congress who have important roles overseeing our spy agencies. How can they do their jobs without knowing the basics?” As Stein correctly notes, it would have been incredible for British counterterrorism officials dealing with Northern Ireland not to know the difference between Catholics and Protestants. And yet one of the fundamental differences driving the civil war in Iraq and delineating disparate interests between – for example, Hezbollah and Al Qaeda – are not understood by many of our counterterrorism officials – and members of Congress in key positions relating to intelligence and defense. “Take Representative Terry Everett, a seven-term Alabama Republican who is vice chairman of the House intelligence subcommittee on technical and tactical intelligence. “Do you know the difference between a Sunni and a Shiite? I asked him a few weeks ago. “Mr. Everett responded with a low chuckle. He thought for a moment: ‘One’s in one location, another’s in another location. No, to be honest with you, I don’t know. I thought it was differences in their religion, different families or something.’ “To his credit, he asked me to explain the differences. I told him briefly about the schism that developed after the death of the Prophet Muhammad, and how Iraq and Iran are majority Shiite nations while the rest of the Muslim world is mostly Sunni. ‘Now that you’ve explained it to me,’ he replied, ‘what occurs to me is that it makes what we’re doing over there extremely difficult, not only in Iraq but that whole area.’” Gee, ya think? As Tristero at Hullabaloo notes: “Immediately after the 9/11 attacks, when the sound of the military airplanes patrolling the skies of Manhattan were still traumatizing everyone, I picked up some books on bin Laden, the Middle East, and Islam. I also peppered with questions the few people I knew back then who had some expertise on the subjects. In fact, lots of people I knew were doing the same thing; we were passing around books, articles, and clippings, emailing links to each other. This strikes me as totally unremarkable behavior.” It strikes me the same way. And, beyond what one would expect in terms of self-education […]
Nov 1st, 2006 by Vital Archives
Deep Roots
By Blaine Schultz + Photos by Kat Berger “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it” Genesis 1:28 Popular music, semi-popular music and even obscure music all seem to run in cycles. Immigrants first arriving in this country from the British Isles brought folk ballads with them. African slaves carried their own musical traditions, which included the distinctly characterizing Americana sound of the banjo. From these various foundations grew the structures of Americana music today. In 1927, Ralph Peer set up recording sessions in Bristol, Tennessee and hit not one, but two grand slams by recording The Carter Family and Jimmie Rodgers. Dubbed the “Big Bang” of country, Peer’s sessions with these future music superstars put hillbilly music on the map. Meanwhile in New Orleans, cornet player Buddy Bolden was never recorded. His legend alone lives on. To trace the history of American roots music, one must go to the source—the Mississippi River. As cities grew up along the waterway, so did the music, from New Orleans to St. Louis to Chicago. East of the river, Philadelphia and rural Appalachia developed their own voices, and New York City was a major focal point for both nightlife and the business of music. Nashville and Memphis would later play significant roles. West of the river, outposts in Kansas City, Tulsa and later Austin shouted regional sounds, as Los Angeles settled in as Showbiz Central. In the 1950s, teenagers finally had a little spare change and rock & roll dug in, fueled by fast cars and fast-talking DJs. Parents began scratching their heads, and things haven’t been the same since. Milwaukee itself supports a vibrant roots scene, with music from all over that spectrum available for your listening pleasure just about any night of the week. From smoky blues clubs in the central city to bars in Riverwest and coffee houses everywhere, folkies, thrift store hillbillies, suit-sporting wailers and flannel-shirted rockers throw down the music that defines the American sound. Each band or artist brings their own interpretation and vision to the music they play. For this story, VITAL spoke with over a dozen players and asked them each the same four questions. What follows is a glimpse into the music that’s helped to shape the Milwaukee music scene for over 20 years. DEFINE YOUR MUSIC. John Sieger I’m trying to locate that line that runs halfway along the American racial divide about 50 years ago. I’ve avoided steel guitars and fiddles like the plague because that tips the balance. Horns are acceptable but hard to find. Slide guitar is wrong for me, because it’s easy to cheat. I’m pretty specific about things. Ray Charles and Buddy, I mean Charlie, Rich had it exactly right. Jason Mohr – Juniper Tar Folk-influenced rock with punk, country and noise backbones. Bobby Rivera – Bobby Rivera and the Rivieras I’ve played a lot of different material in many different bands. My primary stuff right now is the rock & roll instrumental stuff, western […]
Nov 1st, 2006 by Vital Archives
Willie Nelson
By Jon M. Gilbertson For anyone who loved Willie Nelson’s 1978 classic Stardust – the country legend’s first successful attempt to interpret truly great songwriters – the prospect of Songbird is mouthwatering. Not only is he taking on more contemporary tracks by the likes of Leonard Cohen and Gram Parsons, but he’s also getting assistance from Ryan Adams and Adams’ backup band, the Cardinals. While Adams often comes off like an arrogant prick, he does share key qualities with Nelson, such as a fondness for recording as many albums as he possibly can and a broad yet discriminating love for any music that’s good. Adams also produces Songbird unobtrusively, unlike some studio mavens (Daniel Lanois, for example) to whom Nelson has previously given relatively free rein. With the Cardinals alternating between sheer brawn and dulcet subtlety, and with regular harmonica player Mickey Raphael accompanying him, Nelson glides through a raucous take on Parsons’ “$1,000 Wedding,” a simple gospel-hush version of Cohen’s “Hallelujah” and a perfectly pitched waltz-time cover of Harlan Howard’s “Yours Love” with an easy grace unmatched by anyone this side of Tony Bennett. Adams and the Cardinals set up a kind of consistency on Songbird that allows a few of Nelson’s own compositions and even a new one by Adams, “Blue Hotel,” to sit well alongside the interpretations. If this album isn’t quite the achievement that Stardust was, and if Nelson’s voice isn’t entirely what it once was, Songbird still offers the sound of an American icon taking unmistakable pleasure in his craft, and using it on the art of others.
Nov 1st, 2006 by Vital Archives
Scissor Sisters
By Nikki Butgereit Ta-Dah, the second album from the Scissor Sisters, is highly produced, uber-stylized and no less creative and fresh than their first. The songs are kitschy, cheesy and overwhelmingly disco, but they work. The perky catchiness of Ta-Dah is undeniable. “I Don’t Feel Like Dancing” is the ideal opener to an album that makes you want to move. The kooky drum machine fills and raygun blasts are a perfect complement to the song’s beat. Although Elton John is credited with co-writing and playing piano on “Dancing,” the second track, “She’s My Man,” also reeks of his influence. Just like with their self-titled debut, Ta-Dah features more creatively funky songs between the straight-up dance tracks and ballads. It’s this juxtaposition that makes the Scissor Sisters fun; you’re never quite sure what they’ll try next. “I Can’t Decide” combines a vaudevillian piano melody with murderous lyrics – one of the many odd contrasts that are fast becoming the group’s trademark. On “Kiss You Off,” Ana Matronic channels Debbie Harry in a tribute to Blondie in both sound and girl-power lyrics. Ta-Dah has an overtly sexual tone, sneaking raunchy lyrics into the peppy pop songs. Yet the bawdiness is balanced out by the sweetness of other tracks. “Land Of A Thousand Words” is tailor-made for a prom scene in an 80s movie. “The Other Side” is an electronic groove carrying a romantic message that’s at odds with other songs on the album. Ta-Dah reinforces the idea that the world will always need party music. And The Scissor Sisters are just the band to provide it.
Nov 1st, 2006 by Vital Archives
The Who
By Jon M. Gilbertson Strictly speaking, Endless Wire is the first full Who album in 24 years. But strictly speaking, it’s not an album made by the Who. And while it may be true that nobody is absolutely irreplaceable, the dearly departed Who rhythm section of drummer Keith Moon and bassist John Entwistle come close. So what, or Who, remains? These days it’s just singer Roger Daltrey and guitarist, songwriter and general mastermind Pete Townshend. With the support of a few other musicians, politely listed in “Principal” and “Guest” classifications, they continue the group name. The recognizable group sound is another matter. Age is a sigificant but not overwhelming part of the complication. Daltrey has never had an overtly beautiful voice, but he’s always had a hoarse sort of expressiveness, and that hasn’t changed. Townshend has, for obvious reasons (hearing impairment, for one), muted his power chords, but can still find a precise electric blues line or an eloquently simple acoustic progression. Townshend does less well, however, when trying to frame the songs that rely for support upon whatever melodies he can wrest from his guitar(s). The latter half of Endless Wire is taken up with “Wire & Glass,” a mini-opera (not a la “A Quick One While He’s Away” ) that seems constantly to be looking back on old, familiar themes: rock & roll, the deceptive innocence of youth, the inexorable decay of years. The themes are not without interest, but Townshend can’t make them coalesce. He never really could, as proven by Tommy and Quadrophenia and even his solo album White City, but that music was strong enough to leap the narrative and intellectual gaps. This music – even the first half of Endless Wire, which is given over to more various thoughts and more varied songs than “Wire & Glass” – favors sub-thematic structure over genuine artistry. The most glaring difference between the modern Who and the old Who, besides the absent cohorts, is that their music now offers moments and flashes rather than journeys and explosions. It presents the lovely bitter folk music of “A Man in a Purple Dress” and the soft coda of “Tea & Theatre.” In another 24 years, Who’s Next and Empty Glass will probably remain in the collective memory. Endless Wire probably won’t.
Nov 1st, 2006 by Vital Archives
Lloyd Cole
By Blaine Schultz Lloyd Cole and the Commotions’ 1984 debut album, Rattlesnakes, garnered a good amount of airplay (both on college radio and MTV) and press. In the years that followed, this competent record would be lionized as a masterpiece. In hindsight, the dude had a ways to go. Twenty-plus years and a dozen albums find Cole releasing another sophisticated pop album. Or mature pop album. Or literate pop album. Let’s just say that, lyrically, Cole comes across as pretty sincere… verging on humorless. He is content to merely litter the landscape – dropping hip, young urban references whenever he gets the chance. His jumbles of words come off like a blatant attempt to impress the listener. Covering Moby Grape’s “I Am Not Willing,” he sings of a romantic breakup: “I’m so grateful, no longer willing to have a home,” relieved that she gave him a reason to split. The very next song, “Slip Away,” offers this: “I propose an exit strategy… to slip into the ether where I belong.” Maybe only a true artist can blur the lines between woe-is-me and self-satisfied sneer. Maybe Lloyd Cole is that artist… Maybe. But a typical album is a good year’s hard work, so let’s not pitch this disc into the landfill just yet. Musically and sonically, the album is brilliant. The stylish arrangements build on Cole’s modern folk tunes, adding brushed drums here, textured keyboards there and even a richly impressive string section on a few tracks. Rhythms lean toward bossa nova, while subtle loops and delayed guitar riffs add to the palette. If you can get beyond the lyrics, Antidepressant would be perfect listening in a Starbucks or Barnes & Noble.
Nov 1st, 2006 by Vital Archives
Joanna Newsom
By Erin Wolf When one insists on being called a “harper” rather than a harpist and becomes peeved when told that one sounds “childlike” (“Bjork-ish,” too) even though the description is nail-on-the-head, it’s obvious one’s perception of oneself is a tad bit off-kilter. Some would call this stubborn, some would call it quirky; most would call it self-absorbed. This self-absorption, though, is just what makes Joanna Newsom’s music work. Her first two EPs and full-length album, The Milk-Eyed Mender, were studies of self-absorption, created from a world not known to anyone other than the 24-year-old herself, characterized by music and lyrics straight out of the writings of Homer and a “childlike” voice more like a infantile gnome with a bad cold piped in between harp pluckings. To write music that sounds centuries old, the writer must obviously not be spending too much time watching television. Going from the intriguing base that is her first album, Newsom’s latest, Ys, is a wash of strings and rich orchestral sounds, surrounding the ever-plucky “harper’s” own string manipulations and warbling. Ys was produced and mixed by Steve Albini (!) and Jim O’Rourke, and adding even more magical elements with string arrangements was Van Dyke Parks of Beach Boys fame. Blending lyrics that are pure poetry (“there is a rusty light on the pines tonight / sun pouring wine, lord, or marrow / down into the bones of the birches and the spires of the churches”) and music arranged in a manner that resembles an old school Disney score takes incredible patience and craft. It also takes incredible patience on the listener’s part, as most of the songs clock in between 7 and 17 minutes long. It is worth it to be patient with Ys, though. It is an album meant to be reflected upon, for it has definite stories to tell. There’s a slim to none chance that the five songs featured here will ever make it to Top 40 radio, but this is just exemplary of the diamond in the rough quality Ys possesses.
Nov 1st, 2006 by Vital Archives
