Classical
Carolyn Mark
Victoria, B.C.’s most acclaimed Party Girl, Terrible Hostess and less lime-lighted half of the Corn Sisters, Carolyn Mark has removed the training wheels of collaboration (her last release was strictly duets) and is again riding solo. Nothing Is Free, whose liner notes devote the disc to “all the Cowboys, Vampires, Pirates, Poets, Scarecrows and Enablers,” is a reflection of the Can-country minx’s adorably kooky “Point o’ View.” In Mark’s universe, hopes are kept “where we can see ‘em,” those without investments can justify spending “thousands of dollars/keeping Friday alive” and aver that “it’s easier to love an idea/than it is a man.” Equally endearing are Mark’s auctioneer vocals on “1 Thing” and “Get Along,” tracks that could easily be caroused to under a state fair beer tent. Not to be pigeonholed to a do-se-do, Mark’s sound flutters from sunny surf rock (“Happy 2B Flying Away” ) to spacey daydream (“Destination: You” ) , pollinated by her husky Natalie Merchant purr and lyrics that pack a Loretta Lynn punch. “Poisoned With Hope” is uncharacteristically bulky and grating, but pardonable given Mark’s unmatched whimsy and otherwise fluid execution. Folksy, nobody’s-fool showstopper “The 1 That Got Away (With It ) ” will most likely earn the attention of femme rags like Venus and Bust, but until she flags down a more mainstream demographic, Mark will continue her notoriety as “the other Corn Sister.” If her liner tribute to the freaks and underdogs is any indication, though, she won’t be shooting off flares any time soon.
Sep 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
September 2007
SEPTEMBER 4th Joshua Bell Red Violin Concerto Sony Classical Ted Nugent Love Grenade Eagle Super Furry Animals Hey Venus! Rough Trade SEPTEMBER 11th Black Francis Bluefinger Cooking Vinyl 50 Cent Curtis Interscope The Go! Team Proof of Youth Sub Pop Hot Hot Heat Happiness Ltd. Sire/Warner Monade Monstre Comic Beggars Banquet Orange Escape From L.A. Hellcat/Epitaph Pinback Autumn of the Seraphs Touch and Go Shout Out Louds Our Ill Wills Merge SEPTEMBER 18th Babyface Playlist Mercury bella No One Will Know Mint James Blunt All the Lost Souls Custard/Atlantic The Donnas Bitchin Redeye Kevin Drew Spirit If… Arts & Crafts Dropkick Murphys The Meanest of Times Born & Bred/Warner Gloria Estefan 90 Millas Burgundy/SonyBMG Mark Knopfler Kill to Get Crimson Warner Ben Lee Ripe New West Barry Manilow The Greatest Songs of the Seventies Arista Ministry The Last Sucker 13th Planet Recordings/Megaforce Thurston Moore Trees Outside the Academy Ecstatic Peace Mya Liberation Motown New Found Glory From the Screen to your Stereo Part 2 Drive-Thru SEPTEMBER 25th Athlete Beyond the Neighborhood Astralwerks Devandra Banhart Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon XL Recordings Jim Brickman Homecoming Savoy Jazz Steve Earle Washington Square Serenade New West Melissa Etheridge The Awakening Island Foo Fighters Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace Roswell/RCA Brian Setzer Orchestra Wolfgang’s Big Night Out Surfdog Freezepop Future Future Future Perfect Rykodisc Herbie Hancock River: The Joni Letters Verve Deborah Harry Necessary Evil Eleven Seven Music PJ Harvey White Chalk International-Island Iron and Wine The Shepherd’s Dog Sub Pop Ja Rule The Mirror The Inc. Chaka Khan Funk This Sony BMG Matt Pond PA Last Light Altitude Nellie McKay Obligatory Villagers Hungry Mouse Meshell Ndegeocello The World Has Made Me the Man of My Dreams Decca Queen Latifah Trav’lin’ Light Verve Shocking Pinks Shocking Pinks Astralwerks Small Sins Mood Swings Astralwerks Stars In Our Bedroom After the War Arts & Crafts
Sep 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
“Keep guard over your EYES AND EARS as the inlets of your heart …” — Anne Bronte
The percussion of two eyelids meeting during a blink is not audible to the human ear, which consists of fibro-elastic cartilage covered with skin and fine hairs. In contrast to the eyes, the ears are always working. Visual reality is limited to a single, blinking field of vision and sight requires the tireless work of the ears to give it direction. Thus sight is aided by the ears, but rarely are the two given equal attention onstage. The Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra will address the disparity between sight and hearing this season by presenting two concerts featuring music written specifically for the eyes. In April, the MSO performs the score to Charlie Chaplin’s City Lights as the film is projected overhead at The Marcus Center. Earlier on, the MSO will perform a special Halloween concert featuring scores written for Alfred Hitchcock films. Hitchcock worked with such influential film composers as Bernard Hermann, Dimitri Tiomkin and Franz Waxman, so this could be profoundly good. The work of another composer who wrote largely for the eye will be included on a concert at the Wilson Center in September as visually appealing Grammy-nominated vocalist Monica Mancini performs on the 15th. Included will be songs written by her father Henry, who wrote scores for over a hundred films in his lifetime (The Glenn Miller Story, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, The Pink Panther ). Monica will perform some of her father’s songs (such as “Moon River” and “Dear Heart” ) to clips of the films in which they appeared. In the realm of more contemporary film music, The Waukesha Symphony Orchestra will present Corigliano’s Suite for Violin and Orchestra from his Academy Award-winning score to The Red Violin. The WSO will be joined by American virtuoso Maria Bachman – one of Corigliano’s favorite violinists. In a similar hybrid of film and music, The Skylight Opera closes its season with Nine: The Musical. Written by Maury Yeston and Arthur Kopit, this Broadway hit is an oddly skewed adaptation of film legend Frederico Fellini’s autobiographical masterpiece 8½. The musical adaptation of Fellini’s highly surrealistic and self-referential film may seem like something of a curiosity, but the show was a big hit on Broadway. The Skylight has a flair for putting together visually appealing presentations, so it will be interesting to see how they render what should prove to be a very interesting evening of musical theatre.
Sep 1st, 2007 by Russ Bickerstaff
Danbert Nobacon
Danbert Nobacon has earned his place in the canon of well-known unknowns. Kicking around in Leeds since the late ‘70s, Nobacon was a founder and vocalist of Chumbawamba, which though they only had one international radio hit (1997’s “Tubthumping” ) managed to keep the royalties flowing and the tours rolling until the band’s demise in 2004. Now he’s back on Chicago’s Bloodshot Records with a debut solo outing that only a certified veteran could produce. Although the impact of Nobacon’s musical offering is felt upon first listen, it’s also one of those “creepers,” “sleepers” or “seepers” (however you want to word it) wherein the songs and the downright artistry involved only open up after repeated exposure. The rewards are great – almost revelatory – but the extra investment is required to fully appreciate the treasure within. Despite how one might be predisposed to view The Library Book of the World given Chumbawamba’s history, this is not one-hit wonder, get-rich quick, use-once-and-destroy pop music. It’s also not a bludgeon and impale, politicking musical manifesto. It’s artfully layered, full of lyrical twists and turns that include insidious declarations, wholesome ruminations, contemptuous wordplays and, perhaps most of all, damn good music. The arrangements are sparse for the most part, which gives the songs and their subject matter the wind to sail. All in all, it’s the work of a songwriter who is a journeyman at his craft, reaching what he’s after creatively. These are songs for the tavern, both the stage and the bar. And though Danbert’s voice is a bit of an acquired taste, his delivery is impeccable. It seethes with the integrity of conviction, sways with the power of knowledge and soothes with the empathy of experience. There’s an underlying vein of humor throughout the disc, but in the end, what else is there in the face of unrelenting, apathetic ignorance?
Sep 1st, 2007 by Troy Butero
Ministry
Al Jourgenson isn’t about to be considered a politically-charged wordsmith on par with Bob Dylan. Still, this hasn’t stopped him from developing an antipathetic and personal relationship with Bush, Cheney and the Holy War on Terror. Starting with 2004’s Houses of the Mole, followed by 2006’s Rio Grande Blood, the Unholy Trinity concludes with The Last Sucker, a venom-drenched and decidedly non-poetic screed against the Decider and his entourage. Anyone who remembers Ministry’s brutal indictment of Bush Sr., Psalm 69’s “N.W.O.,” is as familiar with The Last Sucker’s formula as is needed. Song after song delivers the same jackhammer drum programming and machine-gun riffage that Ministry’s produced for years, delivered with pit-bull vocals and samples of government icons hypnotically chanting sound-bite mantras. Al doesn’t mince words – lyrics like “I got twins and a Stepford wife/I never had to work a day in my life” don’t leave room for interpretation. But where the Ministry of the Bush 41 era sounded fresh in its rage, the Bush 43 edition has gone stale. The repetitive, stock 16-note chug hammers the brain into a numb paste, perhaps so the listener understands how Jourgenson’s head felt after poring through hours and hours of Bush/Cheney sound bites. Maybe then we won’t notice how cliché it is to name a song about the Veep “The Dick Song,” to say nothing about spending six minutes coming up with new ways to say “Dick Cheney/Son of Satan.” The Last Sucker is Ministry’s final recording, allowing Jourgenson to ride off into the sunset along with lame duck Dubya. Judging by the content of this release (including a baffling cover of the Doors’ “Roadhouse Blues” ), it’s possible that, like Bush the Second, his exit is about eight years too late.
Sep 1st, 2007 by DJ Hostettler
Ani DiFranco
By Allison Berndt Ani DiFranco is a true entertainer. Whether it’s in her racy, controversial lyrics, her man-handling of the guitar, her feminist and political ideals or even her own radical personal style, she’s certainly a woman who’s paved the way for female activist artists. Canon, DiFranco’s 17th studio album, is a two-disc compilation of the most memorable songs from her 17-year career. Included are such classics as “32 Flavors,” “Fire Door,” “Little Plastic Castle” and “78%H2O.” As an added bonus, five previously released tracks have been re-recorded for this release. The new recording of “Shameless” is most definitely worth a listen – it zones in on DiFranco’s intense guitar picking and rhythmic diversions. “Both Hands” is more percussive with a slight hint of island sound in this latest recording. “Your Next Bold Move” is revamped in a very slow, very dramatic, very beautiful way (if one can really sound beautiful when railing on politics), the lyrics a quintessential example of what defines DiFranco’s songwriting style – insightful and provocative words with a folk-guitar soundtrack. Canon is an album anyone who’s ever been interested in Ani DiFranco should own. It’s a sampling of her best work, a little bit of everything she’s done since 1990. Fast, slow, controversial, tame, it’s all entertaining and it’s all Ani.
Sep 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
“Music’s golden tongue Flatter’d to tears this aged man and poor”
By Barry Wightman If the tongue is a muscle of love, a notorious logo of leering lascivious brown-sugared rock & roll, the taste it produces in our mouths, the perception of flavor, is simultaneously a deeply personal perception of quality, an aesthetic discernment, a judgement we use to assign value in art, literature and music. Like a snake’s tongue testing the dry desert air, a tiny flickering antenna on some strange, primitive wavelength, each of us unfurls an antenna of taste, unique to ourselves, difficult to explain but critical to the art of being human. Extend your antenna, and taste new flavors. Like a bite of breakfast at Tiffany’s, Mancini at the Movies, a sumptuous spread of classics by Henry Mancini performed by his Grammy-nominated daughter Monica Mancini comes to the Wilson Center’s Kuttemperoor Auditorium this month. Mary Wilson, one of the original Supremes, brings her tasty, glittery Motown licks to Wisconsin Lutheran College in October. Taste the bittersweet of War and Remembrance: Music in the ‘40s, the still strong, fervent melodic flavors of Benjamin Britten and Ralph Vaughn Williams performed by the Waukesha Symphony Orchestra have aged well. From two or three dusty menus from old but familiar countries, the krazy klezmer kosher kings of souped-up Yiddish music, The Klezmatics, come to Alverno’s Pitman Theatre in December and stir Woody Guthrie’s corn-fed lyrics with matzoh and Manishevitz and come up with a blintz of Hanukkah cheer. Sugary and toothsome as a favorite Christmas cookie, the Milwaukee Symphony Pops can’t miss with its traditional Holiday Show at the Marcus Center. The Bel Canto Chorus sings Latin American holiday music by Ariel Ramirez at the Hamilton Fine Arts Center and Basilica of St. Josaphat. Then in the depths of winter, savor the classic kitchen table American fare of the imposing bluegrass artist Ricky Skaggs and Kentucky Thunder at the Schauer Center and Randy Newman, composer, performer and humorist at the Marcus Center in March. His voice is like a gumbo from Lake Charles, Louisiana by way of Southern California, a Tabasco’d taste of America.
Sep 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Rufus Wainwright at the Pabst – August 26, 2007
It’s always a little surprising that rock bands look and sound as good as they do at the Pabst, a gilded German theater full of red velvet, Italian marble, and busts of famous Austro-Hungarians (Beethoven, Wagner). But it never fails – dirty, dance-y, pounding shows are exalted by the baroquerie of the opera hall, not diminished by it. What a venue like the Pabst does for a performer like Rufus Wainwright, though, is something else entirely, something remarkable. For nearly ten years, the troubador has been crafting exquisite chamber-pop informed by opera, cabaret, lyricism, late-Victioriana, early modernism – melding every manner of anachronistic influence into something metropolitan, contemporary and very intelligent. We had gallery seats – eye-to-eye with the 2-ton Austrian crystal chandelier – but there is intimacy, maybe even privacy, in the vertigo of the second balcony. From way up high, with glasses of wine (actually, I had a glass of wine; my date had a PBR), we enjoyed the sonorous, humble sounds of opening act A Fine Frenzy, a pleasant piano/drum/synth trio that did not in any way overstay their opening act welcome. Not so for The Magic Numbers, a jumpy, bass-heavy band from England that started out fun and stayed on to the point of anxious tedium. Rufus took the stage elegantly late, attired in a patchwork suit, backed by a full band (including three horn players) dressed in stripes. The concert opened with the title track from his new album, Release the Stars; at each chorus, the disco ball over the stage – a grand foil to the crystal chandelier – showered us with hundreds of points of light. He is every inch a star, and probably always has been. His demeanor is classical, his presence hypnotizing. He played brassy, jangly songs with his acoustic guitar and wrought, rich songs on the grand piano: one from his new album, “Going to a Town,” aches with a weary refrain: “I’m so tired of you, America”. The concert was being taped, so some of the songs – notably “Art Teacher,” another sad little aria about a schoolgirl who falls in love on a field trip to a museum – had to be performed twice, which was no cause for complaint. It was almost like a salon, a parlor soiree – another welcome effect of the Pabst’s relative smallness – and Mr. Wainwright was the charming host, endearing us to him with fluttery banter and an uncanny command of the mood, from goofy (performing “Between My Legs” perched atop his boyfriend’s shoulders with a handful of giggly front-row fans dancing around him) to gorgeous (channeling Judy Garland in a lone spotlight) and exuding a certain tenderness for the audience (wearing liederhosen after his first set — this is, after all, German Athens). I felt like an honored guest, even up in the nosebleed seats. I left before the end of the concert, more than two hours into his performance. It was getting late, the dim lights were making me […]
Aug 31st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Jenna Leskela and Michelle Scifers of Blam!Blam!
Photo by Nikki McGuinnis Just shy of its first anniversary, Jenna Leskela and Michelle Scifers’ Blam!Blam! erotica is already hitting bedside tables from sea to shining sea, with distribution in Toronto, San Diego, San Fransisco, Berkley, Baltimore, Atlanta, Minneapolis, Chicago, New Jersey and, of course, Milwaukee. It caters to the intelligent, artistic woman, offering interviews with erotic artists, an advice column, comics and, of course, steamy erotic fiction. As the ladies pack up for the big move to Seattle, VITAL sits down to talk about their time in Milwaukee. To learn more about Blam! Blam!, visit blam-blam.com or myspace.com/blamblam69. What’s the difference between Blam! Blam! and more mainstream erotic magazines? Jenna: Well, we have a lot of erotic fiction in there, which is different than a lot of other publications. We cover a lot of erotic artists [and] aphrodisiac recipes which you don’t really find [elsewhere], versus just, like, a money shot. Michelle: We do themes too with each issue. We try to be more general in terms of women’s issues regarding sex and sexuality, and also to have the erotic stuff to turn women on. What place does the magazine fit in the Milwaukee scene? Jenna: If you look at the sex toy shops like A Woman’s Touch – it was created like ten years ago in Madison, and they just started a store here a couple years ago. Then you look at the Tool Shed, which is another female-friendly sex store, and you can kinda feel the momentum of things building toward this idea. Or even with the Passion Parties – women are starting to have sex toy parties in their homes like it was Tupperware – I kinda feel like we fit into that whole scenario. Who do you collaborate with? Jenna: It’s just Michelle and I that do this and it’s a ton of work; we have to pull together so many people, but we’re really good at that. Whatever we need we try to pull from the pool of people that we know, so it’s predominately people in Milwaukee, but it has also been friends in San Francisco, some designers in Minneapolis. It’s really the internet that makes things happen. You find people with the same interests and ask them if they want to be a part of it. Where can you pick up the magazine in Milwaukee? Michelle: Broad Vocabulary, Tool Shed, A Woman’s Touch, Atomic Records, at blam-blam.com. Our website is being revamped right now. We are going to have videos on there of things we’ve done, places we’ve traveled… Jenna: We found that we just got ourselves into all these wild situations. For this issue I had to hose this guy down with a paint gun and he was totally buck naked –and we were like, ‘Could you have ever imagined that your life would take you to this point?’ And we were laughing and thinking we need to document this stuff, ‘cause its a great story. What else would you like […]
Aug 1st, 2007 by Blaine Schultz
Bad Religion
“We’re animals with golden rules/Who can’t be moved by rational views/Welcome to the new dark ages.” Iraq’s a mess, our civil liberties are eroding and Scooter Libby was basically pardoned. Leave it to six years of an oppressive Republican regime to light a fire under Bad Religion’s ass. Anyone who’s heard a Bad Religion song, much less an entire album, knows what to expect from New Maps of Hell: hyper-intelligent lyrics, dramatically gorgeous vocal harmonies and punk riffs that spawned legions of imitators who took more time explaining what their songs were about than actually playing them. But to criticize Bad Religion for not evolving over the years would be a futile exercise; one may as well complain that AC/DC has recorded the same album 18 times. While other bands would be accused of having run out of ideas, New Maps of Hell feels more like re-visiting a favorite book, if that book were Dude, Where’s My Country? Ironically, as solid as the formula tracks are, it’s when the band changes things up a bit that we find the standout cuts – notably the single “Honest Goodbye,” which uses a thundering mid-tempo verse to anchor a sugar-coated hook. Closing track “Fields of Mars” does the same thing using piano while fantasizing about a time when we can get off this rock, away from the Neanderthals running the show. But how fun woul these guys be if they were happy? If you’re not already a Bad Religion fan, you could pick a worse starting point than this. After all, it’s important for us Americans to familiarize ourselves with our most venerable institutions. VS
Aug 1st, 2007 by DJ Hostettler
Grace Potter and the Nocturnals
Though revered as rising stars on the jam band circuit, Grace Potter and the Nocturnals are far from the archetypal jam band. At only 24, Potter’s voice is a blend of soul, R&B, jazz and country, and her music blends rock & roll, alt-country and straight-up rootsy Americana on the Nocturnals’ latest album, This is Somewhere. “Ah Mary,” with its churning vocals and languid lyrics sets the stage for the rest of the album. Not only is Potter in complete control of her vocal range, her prowess also shines through on the Hammond B3 organ. Heartfelt and honest, This is Somewhere stirs up images of a moving American landscape mixed with love, memory, loss and celebration. Filled with emotive lyrics, the ambiance of such tracks as “Apologies” creates the feeling of longing through replayed memories. “He said it’s crazy/ how love stays with me/ you know and it hurts me/ cause I don’t want to fight this war,” Potter croons atop of a down-tempo rhythm section, sparse piano and acoustic guitar. This is Somewhere is, by turns, fierce with its raw-muddy guitar riffs and mellow beneath a backdrop of acoustics and reflective lyrics. The grittiness is comparable to Lucinda Williams, and the themes find their roots in such lyrical mechanics as Neil Young (its title is actually a reference to Young’s Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere). Rich with passion and power, This is Somewhere will really get you on your feet. VS
Aug 1st, 2007 by Blaine Schultz
Coventry Jones
A fixture at Summerfest’s lake path stage or busking around town, Coventry Jones has finally released another album of original tunes. Sure he can hack out requests for covers with the best of the weekend warriors, but on the 10-track Time Stands Still Jones takes a few strides away from the ever-smiling Summer of Love persona with which he’s been tagged. Bolstered by Gregg Slavik’s drums and producer Scott Finch’s killer piano “John Glenn & I” rocks like a Chuck Berry nugget until it hits a woozy psychedelic breakdown before cranking it up again and “Delta Queen” mixes Jones’ wailing harmonica and slide guitar with Mike Woods’ sax for a particularly thick swampy gumbo. “Standing at the Station” finds a hapless Jones trying to get bailed out by his family, his lawyer, hell even Perry Mason – Wood’s soprano sax lends a music hall vibe that would not be out of place on them dodgy ‘70s concept albums by The Kinks. Utilizing a different lineup of acoustic players (mandolinist Bob McDermott, John Banshaw on banjo and upright bassist Jeff Coulliard) Jones taps into his British Isle roots on traditional tunes “Wild Rover” and “Whiskey in the Jar” – not exactly Thin Lizzy but a nice move away from patchouli pathways. Then again, if you just can’t live without a money shot, the opening track “Elissa” finds Jones back in mellowed out Allman Brothers territory, singing about a wooden ship on the water. VS Coventry Jones Time Stands Still CD Release Party is Friday July 27 from 7 p.m. – Midnight at Rip Tide Seafood & Grill, 649 E. Erie Street. 414-271-8433
Aug 1st, 2007 by Blaine Schultz
