2007-03 Vital Source Mag – March 2007
Paula Frazer & Tarnation
Not having thoroughly kicked all her baggage to the curb with 2005’s Leave the Sad Things Behind, San Francisco singer-songwriter Paula Frazer follows up with another album about moving on. Her fourth solo release, Now It’s Time, also revives her former band, Tarnation, as support. Frazer soups up alt-country standbys with jangly honky-tonk piano on “Bitter Rose” and flamenco tambourine on “Another Day.” “Pretend” features a childlike yodeling reminiscent of a wooden train whistle. Effectively simple string arrangements flesh out many of the tracks. If Frazer’s lyrics mirrored her eclectic instrumentation, Now It’s Time would be perfection, but she constantly recycles the same stale imagery (the sun, darkness, fire). But while the album would benefit if the storytelling were on par with the songwriting, the lack of lyrical originality is not necessarily detracting to Frazer, whose voice could draw listeners singing about…well…the sun, darkness and fire. Like Joni Mitchell meets Morrissey, Frazer’s soulful voice turns, trills and glides effortlessly from track to track. It’s sunken yet confident, parallel to the music it narrates. Though overtly melancholy, these barbiturate-drenched songs find a way to float. Now It’s Time touches on relationships’ gray areas: when to stay and when to go, when to speak up and when to hold your tongue. Not uncertain, however, is Frazer’s ability to deliver a plush, relistenable disc for fans of the heavier-hyped (and less authentic) Neko Case and Jenny Lewis. VS
Mar 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
Van Morrison
By Blaine Schultz Ducks don’t come much odder than Van Morrison. He refers to his biggest hit “Brown Eyed Girl” as “the money shot” when he deigns to play the tune live. Often times it is not on the set list and it is strange that a guy who doesn’t exactly banter with the audience would offer a pornographic backslap to introduce the tune. As the teenage leader of Belfast’s Them, Van wrote the garage-punk anthem “Gloria” and that tune typically gets short shrift as well at his performances. Yet give Morrison utmost credit for being true to his muse over the course of a four decade career. He’s gone from garage R&B to pop hits to the stream of consciousness masterpiece Astral Weeks to albums that veer dangerously close to New Age, but he’s always done it on his own terms. Only Bob Dylan and Neil Young have lead such long and winding careers. For his 1974 appearance at the Montreux jazz festival Morrison’s most recent studio album had been Hard Nose the Highway – a likeable record but not exactly a career marker. For this date he’d left behind his sprawling Caledonia Soul Orchestra and, according to legend, assembled a piano/bass/drums group at Montreux. Very few artists, even in the open minded post-hippie 1974, would be willing to take such a chance with a pickup band of stellar players. Which goes a ways to explain why so few artists fall into a category with Morrison. And true to form, the set list reflects no expected choices and is littered with tunes that would be played rarely over the years. “Twilight Zone” eventually surfaced on the Philosopher’s Stone compilation as a different arrangement featuring an odd falsetto vocal. At Montreux Van acquits himself on acoustic guitar picking out spare bluesy riffs while Jerome Rimson’s upright bass and Pete Wingfield’s piano also take melodic turns. He also takes turns on harmonica (impressive) and saxophone (less so). If the first show is a unique document the second avails its riches with repeated viewings. In 1980 Morrison would again return to the expanded band format, highlighted here by ex-James Brown sax player Pee Wee Ellis’ extended solos. It is evident that Morrison trusts his musicians and gives them reign to tap into the moment while Morrison loses himself as well. “Summertime in England” builds to a Morrison and Ellis call and response near-Evangelical situation verging on hypnosis and as the tune fades the band launches into “Moondance” and Morrison looks like an alarm clock just went off in his head and he’s wondering what he’s doing onstage. This particular segment is a gem; that sense of a Holy Grail moment that players and listeners will tell you justifies an obsession – to paraphrase Van himself – sometimes “it ain’t why, it just is.” The next pair of tunes “Haunts of Ancient Peace” and “Wild Night” offers a similar juxtaposition. The set list is a near-perfect 15 song travelogue moving from trance inducing […]
Mar 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Out of the shower and up to the mic
By Brian Jacobson + Photos By Kat Berger It is a bitterly cold night in Milwaukee, and the idea of staying home and huddling around the warmth of a television set is alluring. Yet many brave souls venture out into the sub-zero darkness this Saturday evening. They’ve come to Frank’s Power Plant in Bay View to engage in the ancient Japanese practice of performing songs for a gathered audience. Until recently, karaoke (literally translated as “empty orchestra” ) fans in the greater Milwaukee area were hard-pressed to find more than a dozen weekly events. Developed in its present form in Japan around 1970 and imported to the states in the 1980s, the U.S. karaoke craze seemed to hit its zenith in the mid-1990s before going the way of the dinosaur and disco. But in the last few years, some funny things have happened involving consumer technology and pop culture, and karaoke has reared its sparkly head again. Now devotees can find a dozen events per night or more in Milwaukee alone, with midweek action of sometimes 20-25. Don’t blame it entirely on American Idol. Yes, the uber-popular contest show may have made people believe that stardom could be found with some colored spotlights, a stage and a wireless mic. But the current scene rarely involves contests for money. Hardly any even use a stage and spotlight. Nobody expects to become a star. HOPELESSLY DEVOTED The popularity of websites like singshot.com and video games like Karaoke Revolution certainly gave the genre a new shot in the arm. But let’s face it; it’s just not the same without a roomful of strangers and a slight tremble in the hand that holds the microphone. Karaoke’s new-found affection seems to be more about sentimental love for popular music from all decades and styles. Singers carry around that certain tune that speaks to them until they find themselves sharing with others. They bring their voices out of the shower or car seat and into the saloon. “I don’t know if it’s really more popular than ever,” says Moonlight Karaoke host Lee Seeber. “But I have been busier lately.” Seeber reflects on his craft as he sets up at Mo’na’s on a Tuesday night. He distributes piles of songbooks to the gathering score of patrons, who set upon them, scribbling out catalog numbers – mostly for country and ‘80s tunes. He got his start as a karaoke enthusiast at a local bar some seven years ago. One night, he was given a chance to take over the hosting gig. Nowadays he packs up his minivan as many as four or five nights a week and takes his own show on the road. Needless to say, he’s seen his share of performances. “Some people think they’re great…and while they’re not bad, they’re not good,” states Seeber. “[But] some are actually incredibly great. They’re usually the ones that don’t care and don’t flaunt it.” Far to the south in Wind Lake, super-sports bar Kelly’s Bleachers II is packed […]
Mar 1st, 2007 by Brian Jacobson
Girls on film
By Russ Bickerstaff Once again, winter ends with Women’s History Month, and in recognition of this the UWM Film Department presents its 3rd Annual Women Without Borders Film Festival at the Union Cinema. The festival celebrates film by and about women who have crossed borders of every kind. And as in the past, this year’s festival features a wide range of compelling work. Documentaries cover such disparate subject matter as modern menstruation (with Giovanna Chesler’s Period on March 7), teenage life complicated by tribal culture (with Tracey Deer’ Mohawk Girls on March 11) and the story of the first woman to hijack an airplane (Lina Mackboul’s film about Leila Khaed on March 10). Lots of strange little experimental bits rush across the screen in a program that should prove to be quite an experience. One of the most provocative double features of the festival occurs March 9. Therese Shecter’s I Was A Teenage Feminist {Image 3} starts at 7pm, followed at 9pm by Gillian Aldrich and Jennifer Baumgartner’s I Had An Abortion {Image 2}. The former details Shecter’s attempts to come to terms with her life as a feminist after a lengthy time away from the movement. Her story begins at the dawn of women’s liberation while she was a teenager and follows the feminist movement through to the present. On the whole, it’s a nice, conversational introduction to the first principals of feminism, though most people already familiar with the movement won’t see much new here unless they find Shecter particularly interesting on her own terms. The brief street interview with the self-proclaimed feminist protesting abortion is a brilliant, yet passing, moment in the film. And as strange as it is that so much of the film is centered around Shecter’s formative feminist experiences watching the children’s TV special Free To Be . . . You And Me, it’s captivating to watch one of its writers tell her that the idealistic children’s program really didn’t promise her anything about gender roles. I Had An Abortion is more cohesive. Aldrich and Baumgartner put together a well thought-out history of abortion from women over the past several decades and from various socio-cultural backgrounds who have experienced it firsthand. The narratives are placed in chronological order, starting with a compelling account from over half a century ago. Feminist icon Gloria Steinem’s recounting of her own abortion early on in the film is almost hypnotic, but it’s the most recent narratives that really ground the film. I Had An Abortion draws its strength from its relentlessness. It’s not often that women casually mention the abortion they had. Regardless of how one feels about the issue, it’s profoundly moving to see this many women talking about it so openly. Possibly the best single documentary in the festival, Diana Ferrero’s They Call Me Muslim {Image 1}, opens yet another stirring double feature on March 10. It’s a piece so brilliantly framed that it’s surprising it hasn’t seen wider distribution at film festivals since its first […]
Mar 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
