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
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
Jim Ford
Odds are you have never heard of Jim Ford. But Ford, as they say, is the man. Don’t take my word for it. Those who cite him as an influence or collaborator include Nick Lowe and Bobbie Gentry. It is a short list of musicians who qualify as Deluxe Cracker: white guys brimming with such soulfulness that their music transcends race and easy shorthand musical genres. The Band, Tony Joe White, Joe South, Delaney Bramlett and Eddie Hinton are a few of that exclusive club, and among them Ford’s recorded output remains the most meager. A single album, Harlan County, and a few 45s scattered among small record labels back in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s is all there is in Ford’s name. Leave it to German label Bear Family to revive the Gospel According to Jim Ford. The Sounds of Our Time compiles Harlan County with scattered singles and previously unreleased tracks. And the story the liner notes tell of tracking down Ford could be a movie for its twists and turns. Yet it is Ford’s music that draws the listener in. Reflecting on his hardscrabble upbringing in Kentucky where he trekked over to neighbor Loretta Lynn’s house to listen to the radio, to a stretch living rough in New Orleans where that city’s sound got under his skin, to ending up in Hollywood where he tried his hand at the music biz to largely deaf ears, The Sounds of Our Time takes the listener on an epic journey. The crossroads of country and R&B is Ford’s home turf. While some of the songs seem autobiographical (“Harlan County,” “Working My Way to L.A.” ), Ford also invests himself fully in tunes that point to a social conscience without ever dipping into the maudlin. Ford’s original “36 Inches High” – later covered by Nick Lowe – is here, but what we don’t get is equally intriguing. Lowe’s old group, Brinsley Schwarz, recorded Ford’s epic “I’ll Be Ahead If I Can Quit While I’m Behind” and Ford is also the uncredited author of Bobbie Gentry’s Southern-noir classic “Ode to Billie Joe.” Neither of these gems are included. But the liner notes allude to boxes of unreleased material by Ford at his trailer park home in rural northern California. Let’s hope for a second volume. VS
Aug 1st, 2007 by Blaine Schultz
August 2007
August 7th Peter Case Let us Now Praise Sleepy John Yep Roc Kat DeLuna 9 Lives Epic Drowning Pool Full Circle Eleven Seven Music Fuel Angels and Devils Epic June Make it Blur Victory Grace Potter and The Nocturnals This is Somewhere Hollywood The Pretty Things Balboa Island Zoho Music August 14th Peter Cincotti East of Angel Town Warner Collective Soul AfterwOrds El Music Group Junior Senior Hey Hey My My Yo Yo Rykodisc Mae Singularity Capitol Lori McKenna Unglamorous Warner Bros. Matt Nathanson Some Mad Hope Vanguard The Seldom Scene Scenechrnized Sugar Hill Linda Thompson Versatile Heart Rounder Turbonegro Retox Cooking Vinyl Paul van Dyk In Between Mute August 21st Adema Kill the Headlights Partnership/Immortal Architecture in Helsinki Because I Love It Columbia Peter Buffett Staring at the Sun BeSide Earlimart Mentor Tormentor Majordomo/Shout! Foreign Born On the Wing Now Dim Mak Idiot Pilot Wolves Reprise Minus the Bear Planet of Ice Suicide Squeeze The New Pornographers Challengers Matador Rilo Kiley Under the Blacklight Brute/Beaute/Warner Nikki Sixx The Heroin Diaries Eleven Seven Music August 28th Atreyu Lead Sails Paper Anchor Hollywood Ben Harper & the Innocent Criminals Lifeline Virgin Kula Shaker StrangeFolk Sony Music Liars Liars Mute Lyle Lovett and His Large Band It’s Not Big It’s Large Lost Highway Meshell Ndegeocello The World Has Made Me the Man of My Dreams Decca Northern State Can I Keep This Pen? Ipecac
Aug 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
Smashing Pumpkins
This might not be the Smashing Pumpkins you remember from seven years ago—or, as seems more likely, from around 1995, when leader Billy Corgan symbolized the meld of artistic and commercial ambitions of alternative-rock as it went mainstream. Back then, the Pumpkins were really his baby, and Zeitgeist discards any pretense of a “band:” the credits state, “JIMMY CHAMBERLIN: DRUMS/BILLY CORGAN: ALL THE REST.” Chamberlin, once as famous for his addictions as for his drumming, remains Corgan’s reliably virtuosic ace of controlled frenzy. And Corgan remains one of rock & roll’s most grandiloquent noisemakers, layering tracks of guitars atop each other and trying to sing through it all in a voice that makes him sound as though he’s releasing an inner child driven to desperation by the captivity. Zeitgeist finds the child trapped in America—perhaps the biggest, most elusive subject possible for any native. Corgan pursues it in ways both oblique (the fiercely buzzing “Doomsday Clock” ) and direct (the black-metallic “United States” ), although his lyrics (“apocalyptic screams/mean nothing to the dead” ) are as cryptic as ever. When Corgan gets more personal, the lyrics and music get less remote: “That’s the Way (My Love Is)” drifts into tenderness and “Pomp and Circumstances” revives the earnest, synthesized lushness of 1980s ballads. Yet Zeitgeist fails to capture America, or indeed anything resembling its own title. Instead, it offers a mélange of distant memories of what used to be the Smashing Pumpkins. VS
Aug 1st, 2007 by Jon Gilbertson
Tegan and Sara
Like the “HeadOn: apply directly to the forehead” commercial, Tegan and Sara’s “Walking With a Ghost” (from 2004’s So Jealous) proved that repetition equals retention. The simplistic and cyclical single earned an EP dedication by The White Stripes; the Canuck twin songwriters took note. On The Con, “Walking With a Ghost”-equivalents “Back in Your Head” and “Hop A Plane,” which are filled with pop hooks like “every record between ’93 and ’97,” act as a safety net for exploration elsewhere. While royalty checks must be added security, thankfully this is not another album ripe with lackluster Grey’s Anatomy ballads. More mope than mush, “Knife Going In” and “Relief Next to Me” are unprecedentedly dark, dwelling on the loss of their “grama” and the insanity and loneliness that came with it. Though apart while writing, the sum of their individual contributions is consistent in both lyric and mood – twin telepathy? Death Cab For Cutie’s Chris Walla and Jason McGerr, The Con’s co-producer and drummer, respectively, make their presences known – if not blaringly obvious – through delicate electronics and calculated percussion. “Floorplan” and “Burn Your Life Down” are giveaways. “Nineteen,” “Call It Off” and the title track best meld the sisters’ aesthetic of earnestness and interwoven vocals with the collaborators’ marks, making those three songs particularly accomplished. When they aren’t adopting English accents on “Are you Ten Years Ago” or sounding like bingo callers on “Like O, Like H,” they put forth their most substantial material to date. If only it could speak louder than their damn undying scenester haircuts… VS
Aug 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
The limitless as limitation
Creativity has no limits. The freedom to express, within any given medium, is a liberating process and brothers John and David Jenson not only understand this process but are taking it a step further. What started as an idea in 2005, or rather a bouncing of ideas, later grew into what is now Soar Studios, an art-studio space that allows the freedom of expression to transcend across various mediums. Soar Studios encourages people from all walks of life to collaborate in the creative process while utilizing such diverse tools as screen-printing, digital media, sound, photography, illustration, carpentry – really anything that you can get your hands on. Their philosophy is kinetic, collective and maximizes freedom through exploring without limitation. With collaborations from such local studios as Lucky Star and Donebestdone, John and David’s idea for Soar is piloting the sky. So, ladies and gentleman, fasten your seat belts, it’s going to be a hell of a ride. John and David were born in Edgerton, WI. After a few short years their father, Hugh, relocated the family to Eau Claire where he found work as an insurance agent. It was around 1976 when the family decided to move back to Central Wisconsin, first to Mukwonago then finally settling in Oconomowoc. Their mother, Kathleen, became the proprietor of a vintage clothing store and from the back-stock of all her threads was able to fashion purses and other garments to sell at local farmers markets. Undoubtedly, her creative endeavors were the first exposure the young brothers had to the creative mind. After graduating UW-Madison with a degree in industrial engineering, David improbably found work in New York as a proofreader/editor translating Russian text for scientific journals. Back home, brother John was freelancing as a designer and doing commercial art. The brothers kept in touch, bouncing creative ideas off each other that eventually hatched a plan. “Hey, why don’t we go into business together? We’re brothers,” John recollects asking David one day after a particularly lively exchange. So David moved back to Wisconsin and the two landed work for GMR Marketing, a local company that handles design work for such companies as Nintendo, MGD and Airwalk Shoes. “It was a team effort for GMR,” David says. “We collaborated on flyers and marketing tools for promotion.” Shortly after, the experience with GMR segued into graphic design work in the publications industry. However, disenchanted with commercial art and the various filters it goes through, the two brothers grew a craving for a broader form of artistic expression. So they branched off on their own and started the design team, Designaholix. Designaholix was really the fodder for what would later become Soar Studios. With the initial start up, Designaholix generated enough income through freelance projects to purchase new equipment and prepare for the launch of Soar Studios. The intended purpose was to allow a space for collective creativity to evolve where each step influences the next and opens doors to fresh artistic outlooks and experiences. The artistic […]
Jul 1st, 2007 by Blaine Schultz
