Classical
The song remains the same?
By Ellen Burmeister Once regarded as the epitome of the excesses of the 1970s rock landscape, Led Zeppelin is currently undergoing a revival of sorts, which is expected to culminate in a much-heralded reunion concert in London this December. For those of us who can’t book a flight to Heathrow, an admirable substitute came to the Riverside Theater November 9 as a 50-piece subset of the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra. Under the direction of composer/arranger Brent Havens, they presented “The Music of Led Zeppelin”, a “rock symphony” of fifteen of the band’s best loved tunes. Notching up the rock chops of the ensemble were – most notably – vocalist Randy Jackson, guitarist George Cintron, electric violinist Allegra, and drummer Powell Randolph (granting the crowd a sampling of a truly Bonham-worthy solo on “Moby Dick”). While no one can match the vocal acrobatics and writhing tight-pants sensuality of Robert Plant at his peak, Randy Jackson proved that the art of rock vocals is a worthy equivalent to that of any other highly trained vocal discipline, especially when backed by a professional ensemble. Almost academic in his approach, Jackson gave a thrilling “reading” of the varied styles in the Led Zepplin playbook – classic rock, blues, and even English folk – and played some great acoustic guitar as well. Kudos to guitarist Cintron and violinist Allegra as well. Jimmy Page’s fabulously inventive and complex riffs got their due props thanks to this unique splitting and doubling of his musical vision among these two talented musicians, particularly on “Black Dog” and “Heartbreaker.” And – despite the challenges of competing with an amplified bass line that approached “11” – the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra brought a rich timbre to the tracks. Subtle changes such as the addition of an oboe to the flute meanderings on “Stairway to Heaven” or the lush backup lines on “In the Evening” reminded the appreciative audience of the beauties hidden in tracks so often taken for granted. And of course, “Kashmir” never sounded more exotic or epic as when a full orchestra takes on its throbbing rhythm and evocative harmonics. The capacity crowd was visibly proud of its hometown orchestra (a terrific outreach project for the MSO if there ever was one) and participated wholeheartedly in every opportunity for interaction that arose. By the time “Stairway” reared its ubiquitous head (complete with the rarely heard guitar and vocal prelude), there was an overwhelming sense of satisfaction in the crowd. No one was alarmed by bustles in their hedgerows. VS
Nov 12th, 2007 by Vital Archives
The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee
The spelling bee dates back to the early nineteenth century, and what may have started as a celebration of literacy in a largely agrarian nation has become a common feature of childhood culture familiar to people all over the country. One slice of Americana meets another in The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee — a musical about the fictitious bee of an insular county that could be anywhere in the country. The musical, which opened at the Marcus Center this past Tuesday and runs throughout the week, is patterned after an actual spelling bee. There are grade school-style standing displays in the lobby and a desk for anyone in the audience who wants to sign up for the bee. At the beginning of the show, half a dozen audience members are called to the stage to compete. The show is performed without intermission and, strangely enough for a musical, with relatively little singing. Songs are short, inconsequential and as memorable as a fifteen-second television commercial. The result is a passably enjoyable comedy full of spelling-bee jokes and deft language-play that would be great if it weren’t for all those songs breaking the pace of the laughs. While music drags the production in numerous places, Spelling Bee is entertaining as a character comedy. The spellers are diverse: Logainne Schwartzandgrubenierre (Dana Steingold), the precocious ultra-liberal daughter of two gay dads; William Barfee (Eric Roediger) an awkward kid with a unique spelling technique; Olive Ostrovsky (Vanessa Ray ), the child of distant parents; eccentric Leaf Coneybear (Andrew Keenan-Bolger), whose spelling abilities seem to come from nowhere; multi-talented ultra-perfectionist Marcy Park (Katie Boren) and sexually frustrated Boy Scout Chip Tolentino (Justin Keyes). James Kall has a brilliant sense of comic delivery as Vice Principal Douglas Panch, who officiates the bee with former champion Rona Lisa Peretti (Roberta Duchak). The touring production uses the old trick of dropping local references like Brett Favre and Brady Street. Still, nothing can top the craziness of inviting actual audience members to compete in the bee. It’s staged – the audience members are gone by the time the first couple of characters are eliminated – although on opening night, one woman didn’t get cut as expected, even managing to spell a word that had been entirely fabricated for the musical. Her turn came up again immediately, and she politely misspelled a much longer word. A show that so clearly welcomes this kind of controlled audience participation has a clever charm to it. VS The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee runs through November 11th at the Marcus Center. Tickets can be purchased in advance by calling the box office at 414-273-7206 or online at www.marcuscenter.org. December 11 – 16, the touring company makes its way to the Fox Cities PAC in Appleton. For more info, visit www.foxcitiespac.com
Nov 8th, 2007 by Russ Bickerstaff
Ian Ball
Fans of Southport, England’s Gomez have long realized that with three songwriters in the band, there was bound to be a bit of venturing into solo-land, for true-blue songwriters can only collaborate and play nice for so long. Ian Ball has no desire to see his outfit disband, but is keen to try some orchestrations of his own, which are in turn are subtly lovely, genuine, organic and pleasing in their simplicity. It’s fair to call Who Goes There “piano-driven,” but don’t let that lead you to think this is a typical boy-and-his-piano heartstring-tugger. Rather, Ball has mastered an uncanny knack to make the absence of guitar largely unnoticeable. Instead, he magically manages to serve up a heavy rotation of a crunchy Fender Rhodes, mellow acoustic piano, electronic loopery and glass-clear glockenspiels that override the soft strummings of acoustic guitar in a playful way, lending a fresh sound to songs of love and its trials, which are lyrically a little cheeky, but never campy. Ball even manages to make getting high from enough drugs to tranquilize an elephant (“The Elephant Pharmacy”) sound charming. Ball’s skills as a solo artist lie in his ability to bring living-room ballads uncannily within reach, despite his intensely personal storytelling style. From the introspective, self-soothing opener “Sweet Sweet Sleep” to the bouncy “Automatic Message” and whimsical “When We Were Cool,” Ball doesn’t get in anyone’s face – just garners slow, but solid, appreciation. VS
Nov 5th, 2007 by Erin Wolf
James Luther Dickinson
As producer and musician, Jim Dickinson has had a hand in masterpieces by Aretha Franklin, The Rolling Stones, The Flamin’ Groovies, Big Star/Alex Chilton, Ry Cooder, The Replacements and Bob Dylan – not to mention raising his sons, The North Mississippi All Stars. As a solo artist, Dickinson released his debut in 1972 (the classic Dixie Fried) and waited thirty years before following it up. Reminds me of a joke my grandpa used to tell about “a long time between drinks.” Dickinson has picked up the pace significantly since; Killers From Space is his third album since 2002. His choice in material and the very way he inhabits a tune go a long way to defining that particularly indefinable brand of Memphis strange. Ranging from Tin Pan Alley to blues to gospel to all-out rockers, Dickinson’s weathered vocals put the listener front-row-center to characters that may be down and out, but have more soul than they can handle. “I Need You” reveals menace that in lesser hands would be camp. Here its wheezy harmonica and piano interplay suggests the last gasp of Jay Hawkins at St. James Infirmary. Dickinson is a national treasure; he should be on a postage stamp.
Nov 1st, 2007 by Blaine Schultz
Citay
The average person does not listen to instrument-led rock music. At most, it’s used as background noise while cleaning, studying, or even sleeping – earning a position not much higher than a Sharper Image sound machine. Without prominent vocals, it’s easy for most to lose interest. Unless, like the not so itty-bitty eight-piece Citay committee, there is a generous amount of aggressive ‘70s guitar to demand attention. The noise comes when least expected, as during the unassuming Elliott Smith-like “On the Wings.”Since the disc’s undertones are mellow, these interjected rock-god moments are startling. Also surprising – and out-of-era – is the Metallica-meddling on “Former Child” which, thankfully, bows out a minute or so into the almost eight-minute track. Now, eight minutes may seem drawn out, but Little Kingdom is never difficult to connect with, even at its most noisy, lyrically free and instrumentally hefty. Not quite as kitchen-sink as today’s symphonic indie bands with as many members, Citay’s wackiest accessory is the mandolin. In addition, songwriter Ezra Feinberg plays nine instruments and provides tender vocals in select songs like the whimsical “First Fantasy.”Not only does he rival Sufjan Stevens in gratuitous musicianship, but also channels Sufjan’s minimalist, folksy vibe throughout “Moonburn,” the album’s closer – beneath the hell-raising retro guitar shredding, of course. If your Led Zepplin III or Pink Floyd Animals vinyl is wearing thin, Little Kingdom is an ideal segue into the current century. Apologies if it’s only released on CD.
Nov 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
Jimmy Eat World
‘Emo’ was once considered a four-letter word, yet one of the founding bands of this genre, Jimmy Eat World (along with the likes of Rites of Spring, Sunny Day Real Estate and Braid), managed to give it staying power. From 1993 onward, the band that once did split 7” records with Jejune and Christie Front Drive has evolved into a Warped Tour member and is name-checked with Green Day and Taking Back Sunday. Taken aback by their success, the band has been seemingly cornered into re-creating and advancing this once fresh sound, moving it from its hardcore/punk roots into a bubblegum pop vocalists’ headbanger’s ball. In the process, Jimmy Eat World’s trademark sound, which began with 1999’s Clarity, shifted the majority of the vocals from Tom Linton’s scratchy emo-core rasp to Jim Adkins’ more pure tenor choirboy vox. Perhaps this was the switch that fixed Jimmy Eat World’s rising popularity, but at a heavy price. None of the once truly poignant words remain. On Chase This Light, the lyrics seem bled dry of anything heartfelt, the songs sliding from one to the next, not effortlessly, but unnoticeably. Gone are the days of the intense but admirable balance of adrenaline-bomb hooks and dramatic epics with electronic noodling (innovative in its day). This stagnant direction is surprising, since their last release in 2001 had them leaning back to their grittier Static Prevails days. Only “Firefight” and “Feeling Lucky” recall the band’s original sound. Venturing into new territory, “Gotta Be Somebody’s Blues” gives off a smoke-machine, Def Leppard vibe with its excessive strings and over-produced vocals. Even Jim Adkins’ contribution – “Carry You,” from his side project Go Big Casino, and which could be said to be more true-blue – still sounds contrived and will soon be Muzak. Was it foresight that almost ten years ago on Clarity’s “Your New Aesthetic,” Adkins sang, “We’re lowering the standard in a process selective / the formula is too thin / but it takes more than one person / so everyone jump on / I’ll miss you when you’re just like them”?
Nov 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
Bruce Springsteen
Bruce Springsteen’s career has been truly beyond reproach. Even those who aren’t fans have to acquiesce to the fact that he’s the definition of integrity in a business that thrives on the opposite. And while his popularity may have waned in the nineties, he still created provocative music that meant something both to him and to his audience. This is evidenced by recent releases from a number of young artists mining his sound and his aesthetic. Ah, but they could never be the real thing. And here in his 24th year of recording, Bruce produces yet another finely-crafted testament to his “Boss” title. Magic contains the most direct and immediate collection of rock music Bruce has put out since Born in the U.S.A. in 1984. The saxophone, the piano and the rest of the E Street Band are back in full regalia on songs like “Livin’ In The Future” and “I’ll Work For Your Love.” The driving rhythms, melodies and narratives are also back, particularly on “Last to Die.” But Bruce doesn’t stop there: on the title track he displays the entire spectrum of his talents as a creator. “Girls In Their Summer Clothes” is as innocent as it is wistful. And though it may turn some people off, there are also a number of songs that touch upon his acoustic, rootsy leanings, sparse and epic. Bruce makes albums that are the equivalent of audio novels. They tell stories, weave descriptions, paint landscapes and define characters. But he also always gives us a little prize wrapped in the theme of it all: the emotional resource that compels us to be the authors of our own existence. “Love (and attitude) is a power greater (and stronger) than death” he sings in his tribute to a deceased friend on the hidden track 12, “Terry’s Song.” Yep, that’s the magic.
Nov 1st, 2007 by Troy Butero
Element Everest
By Kenya Evans Life is a Heist tells the spiraling stories of the hood rich just trying to get by and delivers a verbal vengeance signed and sealed by Ms. Everest personally. The first and only lady of local hip hop group Black Elephant – 2006 WAMI runners-up for best unsigned artist – Element Everest (yes, her real name) is debuting her first solo album. She’s no stranger to MCing, writing rhymes and shutting down naysayers who criticize or question her authority as a female rap artist. Gritty and unapologetic, Life is a Heist booms with 808s, snares and brassy beats against Element’s smoky voice. The up-tempo “Intro” has the layered instrumentals of a marching band, dramatic and charged with musical action. “Good Girls,” the first single, which premiered on local radio station V100, is a sexy and sassy boy-meets-girl love song that’s mellow and made to groove to. Element upholds what Black Elephant does best – telling tales of the city, from grinding streets to head-bobbing beats – but brings a bit more soul to her own songs. Element sings a cappella on “The Wire,” reminiscent of an old Negro spiritual, channeling the stark realities of modern-day urban strife and the continuous struggle of black life: that there’s no difference between slaving in the fields to becoming slaves of the mind and products of an impoverished environment. “Katrina,” a duet with local guitarist/singer/songwriter Evan Christian, speaks for the dismal and discriminated New Orleans natives who were victims of a natural disaster and their own government. Overall, it’s rich and hard-hitting, both lyrically and musically: Element doesn’t play nice. Get ready to take a bite out of some ghetto melodies that bite back.
Oct 4th, 2007 by Vital Archives
The Saltshakers
Local four-piece outfit The Saltshakers unload some serious crunch on their new album, Up All Night. It’s catchy, poppy, laced with power-riffs and may indeed keep you Up All Night. The opening track, “Believe,” is your standard pop-rock catch tune that will get a foot shakin’ and a head bobbin’, starting with just a single guitar power-chord progression—momentous though not overly driven — then laced with the accompanying rim shots and tambourine. Lead singer Chad Curtis has plenty of room to wail on top of the back-up vocals and furious chomp roaring from the amps. “Whiskeytown,” a tribute to Ryan Adams, has an alt-country vibe to it, with a really great, semi call-and-response hook: “I said ‘hey, you, what do you say?’ I think your fine-ass self should step my way and we’ll walk hand-in-hand all the way to whiskeytown.” The second verse is stripped down a bit, with less emphasis on the guitar, and more on the beat — what sounds like hands clapping. It’s fun, interactive and catchy. The rest of the album showcases the band’s musical range. “Happy Now?” has a heavier beat with a more progressive-rock feel and metal guitar lead riffs. But The Saltshakers always come back to their power-pop roots. Up All Night, though playing on several genres, stands on its own and is chock-full of raw guitar energy.
Oct 1st, 2007 by Blaine Schultz
The Doo-Wop Box
I spent my teen years in Kansas City during the ’50s, and like other suburban girls of my era, gloried in wearing Mamie bangs and pony tails, Poodle skirts and saddle oxfords. A few years ago I bought a pair of those famous black and white shoes with pink rubber soles, copies of the originals which are still being churned out in California. Hey nonny ding-dong. Thank heavens, some things never change. Doo-wop. Do you remember doo-wop, the music of the 50s and 60s, rooted in the urban streets and hearts and souls of black Americans? When The Chords, five black guys, cut “Sh-Boom” in the spring of 1954, I was a senior in high school. My best friend introduced me to the sound, a sound so black that the beat stuck in my head and feet for years. To my lily-white ears it had a dangerous edge that signaled freedom and something other than the privileged “Pleasantville” suburbia of my teen years. It was sexy and sweet and heartbreaking. Filled with tears, moons and stars, it addressed the yearnings of most teenagers, but come to think of it, didn’t actually guarantee any answers to our prayers. In many ways, doo-wop resembled a stone-hearted God that we worshipped on a daily basis. Today I’m sitting in my office writing and listening to The Doo-Wop Box, 101 vocal group tunes compiled in 1993 by Rhino. The four CDs cover the years from 1948 to the doo-wop revival era stretching from 1959-1987. Included is a smart book stuffed with black and white photographs, historical information, and a list of 33 “nonsense” syllables, used to replace traditional instrumentation. Can you identify #17: doo wop, doo wadda, or #31: wah wah, shoop shoop? Along the way, I noticed that many of the vocal groups from the early years were named after birds … The Orioles, The Ravens, The Flamingos, The Wrens, The Penguins. But there were also groups named: The Nutmegs, The Jewels, and The Valentines. These folks did not lack for imagination. In 1956, I floated off to a college dance, in a strapless turquoise tulle gown and huge rhinestone earrings, my hair sheared off in a “Duck’s Ass.” It was a daring haircut, but my date, an uptight dental student intent on fixing tooth decay, never asked me out again, even though we sipped rum and Cokes and danced to “In The Still Of The Nite.” The Five Satins recorded the tune in a basement, and the book in my Doo-Wop Box informs me that despite the hollow sounds, it was one of the two most popular oldies of all times. The other was The Penguins, “Earth Angel.” Their name came from the icon on the Kools cigarettes pack. Earth Angel, earth angel, won’t you be mine? Tonite. Tonite, may never reach an end. Long Lonely Nights by Lee Andrews & The Hearts set my heart on fire. It still does. So, what’s an old lady like me doing listening to doo-wop, […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Judith Ann Moriarty
The Big Dig
“It swings between passion and obsession, constantly. It’s definitely at the point where I’m like, ‘do I want to buy groceries this week, or do I want to go digging in Indianapolis?’” Aaron Soma spends 12 to 16 hours a week, on average, digging for vinyl. At least once a month, he leaves the state to rummage through basements and backrooms for dusty jewels of sound. He calls it the “great nerd odyssey” – and he’s not being flip, despite the shadow of cool that has settled on record culture in recent years. Aaron can describe what he’s into – Northern soul, forgotten originals of ‘80s pop songs – but it’s hard to put a finger on what he’s really searching for. So in consideration of the question, he made a list, went to some record shops, and thought about it for a while. Here are four things he managed to sort out. 1. Covers, or forgotten originals of songs that were covered and became hits Aaron’s first digs were through his parent’s formidable collection of records. “I picked up Beatles albums,” he says, “wondering, looking at the records, noticing that the song wasn’t written by John Lennon or Paul McCartney, but some American R&B artist somewhere.” “That’s the really exciting thing about collecting,” says Andy Noble, co-owner of LotusLand Records. “You’re always following a path, and you’re probably following multiple paths.” “It could take you back to the beginning of recorded time – or to Africa, or to Brazil – just by following the sound, the producer, the people who were thanked in the liner notes, weird stuff like that. It’s an exploration.” Aaron is always learning; every dig is a research project. “I’ll bring a battery-powered portable record player with me to a shop and just dig through, set stuff aside. That’s how I teach myself what’s going on. I hardly ever know what I’m looking for when I go out: it’s really a dive into the unknown.” 2. Midwestern music Aaron’s serious collecting started with ‘60s psychedelic rock, especially local acts – Michael and the Messengers, The Illusion, The Legends. For the past two or three years, he’s been collecting mainly funk and soul music, and still turns up a lot of local material. “Because I dig regionally, I tend to come up with a decent amount of stuff that was actually happening here – Harvey Scales and the Seven Sounds, The Esquires.” On a sunny late-summer afternoon, Aaron drives me out to an empty storefront on North Avenue. Audie’s Records has been closed since the late ‘80s, and judging from the steamrollers parked next door, it might not be standing for much longer. It used to be a major distribution hub for hip hop, soul and funk in the Midwest. “A lot of that stuff is still here. In bigger Midwest cities – St. Louis, Detroit, Minneapolis – a lot of the shops get really picked through.” Still, good finds don’t come easy – especially with […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Amy Elliott
Girlyman at Shank Hall
How do you know you’ve made it as an Indie-Gender-Folk-Pop group? Is it playing to a crowd that sings along to almost every one of your songs? Witnessing members of your audience placing the now ubiquitous concert calls to friends who couldn’t make it to show? Or is it being called back to the stage, not once but twice, for encores? On Friday night, Girlyman had all of this and more as they played for an enthusiastic crowd at Shank Hall. Before they took the stage, their long-time friend Adrianne played an opening set comprised of original songs that were both well written and well performed. She did play one cover in a nod to the “music of her youth” – the song she referred to as her Cheesy Embarrassing Eighties Favorite, the Thompson Twins’ classic “Hold Me Now.” She won over the cheese-heads and closed her performance by saying, “I’ve only played in Milwaukee a few times and every time it’s been cool. And tonight is infinitely cool!” Girlyman echoed Adrianne’s sentiments by saying repeatedly, “People are nice here!” It’s not hard to be nice to a band that is as humble as it is talented. The three members of Girlyman – Nate Borofsky, Doris Muramatsu and Ty Greenstein – played their own brand of folk music and told the crowd stories about their lives. The setlist consisted mostly of songs from their April release, Joyous Sign, with a smattering of material from their first two albums and a couple of numbers thrown in to make the audience laugh. They cut up onstage to an impromptu “tuning song:” as Ty worked to get her guitar ready for the next number, Nate and Doris sang what started as a schmaltzy ballad and ended with an overstated and hilarious chorus of “We’re not going to tune it/No, we ain’t gonna tune it” to the melody of the old Twisted Sister song. A particular standout from the new album was “Reva Thereafter,” written by all three band members to help Nate work through his grief following the death of his grandmother. Before the song, Nate told the audience a little about her and eloquently painted a picture of a strong, determined woman who took her own life at 95 years old. “You wrote the letters one by one into the setting of the sun/Tell me, what was it like to send yourself into the light that night?” When he openly sang of his pain, we could feel it with him. Isn’t that the ultimate goal of most songwriters? To make your listener feel? As the members of Girlyman interacted with each other and with the audience, we all became invested in the stories that they told in each song. Doris’s profession that her optimism inspired “Good Enough” (“Somewhere back in time we made each other laugh / And I could see how that was good enough”) was sincere and heartfelt, and Ty’s confession that ”Hey Rose” is about a dark period of […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
