Rock
Andrew Bird/Apostle of Hustle @ Alverno’s Pitman Theatre, April 21
Announcing that the audience at Alverno’s Pitman Theatre was about to experience the venue’s only ‘rock’ show of the season, opening act Apostle of Hustle began their set. It was filled with punchy banter from front man Andrew Whiteman, flippant statements on politics, co-eds and drug culture and lots of new material from their latest release National Anthem of Nowhere. The set swapped southwestern indie rock sounds with indie pop rock, pleasing fans, intriguing first-time listeners and warming the crowd well for the headliner. Chicagoan Andrew Bird (whose music is based on the excellent combination of big sounds and big words) returned to Milwaukee for his first ‘big-venue’ appearance at the Pitman Theatre (his previous Milwaukee shows have been at the former Gil’s Café and the Miramar Theatre). And while Whiteman may have dubbed the evening a “rock show,” true-blue Bird fans knew they were in for much more than that. Armed with his latest collection of songs from Armchair Apocrypha, his two touring pals Martin Dosh (drums, keys) and Jeremy Ylvisaker (guitar, bass) from Minneapolis and two of the coolest amps ever created by Chicago luthier Ian Schneller – a single horn shaped like a gramophone and a double-spinning-horn amp called a “Janus Horn”– Bird and company created a stunning mini-orchestra. Bird hushed the audience with his whimsical croon, sparkling, world-famous whistle and glockenspiel combination, and his amazing ability to layer guitar and violin via a sampler. Bird even shook off his shoes, giving himself easier toe-push access to the buttons on his sampler, arranging a base of guitar, then plucked up his violin, setting his Janus amp a-spinning to bow his way through renditions of “Fiery Crash” and “Imitosis.” He later took it solo with “Masterfade” (the audience helping him along with his brain-farted lyrics) and “Dr. Stringz,” dedicated to his nieces and from his television appearance on kids TV network Noggin. Bird pulled the show together by weaving in stories about his travels in France and how they were the partial inspiration for his new material. “Plasticities,” he said, is a song born from a breakfast of oatmeal and accompanied by four looped songs in a topsy-turvy French hotel, while an attempted car-parking in Bordeaux before a show gave us “Heretics.” Storytime ended and Bird finished up the set with material from The Mysterious Production of Eggs (“Skin Is, My” and “Tables and Chairs” ) and “Scythian Empires” from Armchair. The audience, picture-perfect up until now, politely hushed during songs and wildly cheering in-between, couldn’t resist any longer as a few made their way down the aisle, dancing and twirling to Bird’s literary indie symphony. VS To view more images from the show, click HERE.
Apr 24th, 2007 by Erin Wolf
Low
Two years ago, The Great Destroyer marked a period of incredible transition for Low. Not only did the album itself bristle with challenges to the band’s established method of slow and steady and hauntingly beautiful, but the period shortly after its release also saw bassist Zak Sally leave the band and founding member Alan Sparhawk check into the hospital for mental health treatment. Clearly, there were shakeups, and Drums and Guns refracts the altered configuration of thoughts and people. Producer Dave Fridmann returns to work the subtle transformations that informed his efforts on The Great Destroyer (and with bands like The Flaming Lips and Mercury Rev) ; new bassist and vocalist Matt Livingston fills no one’s shoes but his own and the album feels constantly unsettled. Even now, with listeners braced for new directions, Low’s music surprises. The opening track, “Pretty People,” crackles in with static and feedback as it raises a golem of Eastern-flavored psychedelic meditation. “Always Fade” sets an electronic whirl in the background of a jazz-funk bass line and a thunderous cardboard-like snare snap. And “Take Your Time” drops chiming bells over a deliberately skipping loop of church-like vocal cadences and a tinny drum-machine rhythm. Even in relatively familiar territory – the vocal harmonizing between Sparhawk and wife/drummer Mimi Parker is as tenderly hushed as ever on “Belarus” – Low orient themselves to see and hear things differently. Drums and Guns mesmerizes listeners to do the same. VS
Apr 1st, 2007 by Jon Gilbertson
The Fall
The mid- to late ‘70s was a time of musical change. If the ’60s “free love” culture, though hopeful, was not enough to transform mass awareness, then the “fuck you” attitude of punk and post-punk was the necessary conduit for change. Though The Ramones and The Sex Pistols captured the spotlight, no other band was quite as prolific and influential as The Fall. Throughout their history, which spans 30+ years, 50-some lineups and over 20 records, The Fall remain true to their roots. The Fall approach each release with a freshness orchestrated by stoic frontman Mark E. Smith and Post-TLC Reformation!, is no exception. The first track, “Over, Over,” begins with a menacing laugh and segues into, “I think it’s over now/I think it’s ending/I think it’s over now/I think it’s beginning.” Accompanied by a droned-out bass, a simple guitar progression and ambient sounds, “Over, Over” is an homage to cycles. This album is raw and some tracks sound improvised. “Insult Song” is a narrative, almost abrasive recounting of past show experiences interlaced with dark imagery and a satirical, intermittent chuckle from Smith. The beat is steady and syncopated, with a slap bass progression and melodic guitar solos. The overall effect complements the development of the story it tells. Post-TLC Reformation! is dark, but not depressing. The vocal style is consistently dreary, but the upbeat bass and uncompromising guitar riffs create a harmonizing juxtaposition that never lets the listener get too far down to get back up again. It’s groovy. VS
Apr 1st, 2007 by Blaine Schultz
The Decemberists’ Chris Funk
Anyone with even a minute awareness of The Decemberists would find it challenging to resist asking guitarist Chris Funk all kinds of ridiculousness, like the random “What’s your favorite Western?” or the general “Why are you guys so fun?” But, it takes only one spin of anything in their catalogue to understand – Guitarmageddon, stage antics and official drink aside – that they are indeed serious musicians. With Guitarmageddon, stage antics and official drink considered, however, perhaps “serious about music” would be a better phrase. Multi-instrumentalist Funk, who personally handled acoustic guitar, banjo, bouzouki, dulcimer, electric guitar, hurdy-gurdy, pedal steel and percussion on 2006’s The Crane Wife alone, is fresh off a European tour and at home in Oregon, a state whose spectacle and character lured him from the Midwest over a decade ago. “I felt like I had done all I could do,” says the Indiana native. “I wanted to move out to Oregon to play music, for some reason.” Portland may now be the hub for a list of acts just as extensive as Funk’s performance credits, but, he adds, “at the time it wasn’t known as a musical city, and not a music-industry city by any stretch of the imagination.” Intuition paid off for Funk, who has toured with The Decemberists for around six years, a substantial tenure. During that short span, they have cultivated an active community of fans and released four LPs and five EPs (including two online exclusives) to critical kudos. As impressive as that sounds, to Funk, it only means that he, vocalist Colin Meloy, keyboardist Jenny Conlee, bassist Nate Query and drummer John Moen simply “happen to find ourselves in a rock band that people marginally care about.” The understating Funk knows that “blowing people’s minds is really difficult to do these days” and that not many since Jimi Hendrix have accomplished anything of the sort. “I’m not saying our band is doing it; I don’t think our band is,” he says. Yet sitting somewhere between Hendrix and today’s Top 40 are The Decemberists. So what are they doing exactly? “We’re a pop band and that’s about it.” It’s clear that Funk is realistic, even while contributing to a group especially keen on narrative, mythology and folklore. That being said, The Decemberists aren’t your trendy, textbook cool, or even a particularly marketable band, which is why signing Capitol Records to push their new release last year, instead of their alma mater Kill Rock Stars, was a potentially risky move. Thankfully, outside of the inevitably larger venues and increased ticket prices, corporate pitfalls have been innocuous thus far to the quintet, who places “serving music” above all else. “The responsibility is initially with yourself,” Funk explains. Integrity will prevent the release of anything they’re “not into” in the future, regardless of what label is driving their deadlines. “When we make a record, we feel an unspoken responsibility to make ourselves happy and entertain ourselves.” The Decemberists are celebrated for their over-the-top theatrics and […]
Apr 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
April 2007
Thoughts on “Low Numbers” Your “Strength In Low Numbers” [Covered, March 2007] piece was a good read, one of the more comprehensive looks at WYMS that has appeared in the local press. I started working there in late 1981, and saw my 21-year career end rather unceremoniously in April, 2004. In between I hosted talk shows and jazz programs, provided commentary for Spelling Bee broadcasts, built an absolutely one-of-a-kind jazz library from scratch, suffered through agonizing fundraisers (or Begathons, as the staff referred to them privately), watched on-air technology change from turntables to CDs, endured countless summer weekends when the heat and humidity in the studios was so bad the equipment would sweat (they turned the AC off on Friday afternoons…), and took out the trash when necessary. I also had the privilege of serving a unique audience that was fanatically devoted to jazz, and that made it all worth while. But the 88.9 radio torch has been passed, and time will tell if RFM’s grand experiment succeeds or fails. Thanks to your article, I now know more about what that experiment entails than I ever did before. Thank you for writing it. Bill Bruckner Former WYMS Music Director In your latest issue, your “Left of the Dial in Milwaukee” states MPS could no longer afford to support the station. What is little known is that when WYMS went to pre-programmed JAZZ, all donations dried up, and MPS ended having to budget almost twice as much to run the station! (I know as I saw the budget). Spence Kortze or whatever his name can stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. Dan in Milwaukee Ed. Note: I actually stated that “MPS announced that it could no longer afford…,” which is different from me stating it as fact. In a shorter piece it’s hard to go into depth on every point, but I saw the same budget and – Wow! What a mystifying choice the Board made… Jon Anne … More “thoughts” from our online readers: Even after reading the above story of the evolution of your new format on WYMS, I still say, “Bring back our jazz, man.” —Marilyn Holbus You need to consider not throwing out the baby (JAZZ) as you continue to format and develop your programming. I hope there is still someone out there protecting this vital part of distinctly American, music culture.—Paul Carlson The new music is a big mish mash of too many types of music. Milwaukee is a very provincial town with peoples’ tastes pretty well set. The jazz format worked. It is the only music that is truly indigenous to America. Bring it back and dump the musical smorgasbord that can not appeal to anyone. Thanks—Chuck Sable I was skeptical at first, and for the first few weeks it was clear the station was searching for its “special something,” but I think it’s got it now. It works, surprisingly well. This is a station for people who just love music plain and simple: […]
Apr 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
April 2007
April 3rd The Academy Is… Santi Fueled By Ramen Boys Like Girls Boys Like Girls Red Ink/Columbia Brandi Carlile The Story Columbia Chevelle Vena Sera Epic Jarvis Cocker Jarvis Rough Trade/World’s Fair Fountains of Wayne Traffic and Weather Virgin Kings of Leon Because of the Times RCA Los Straitjackets Rock en Espanol, Vo. 1 Yep Roc Maxïmo Park Our Earthly Pleasures Warp Andy Partridge Monstrance Ape House/Ryko Static-X Cannibal Reprise Timbaland Timbaland Presents Shock Value Paul Wall Get Money – Stay True Atlantic The Waterboys Boy of Lightning U.K. – Universal April 10th Army of Me Citizen Doghouse Blonde Redhead 23 4AD Bright Eyes Cassadaga Saddle Creek Coco Rosie The Adventures of Ghosthorse and Stillborn Touch & Go From Autumn to Ashes Holding a Wolf By the Ears Vagrant Grinderman Grinderman Anti-/Epitaph Guster Satellite EP Reprise Nekromantrix Life is a Grave & I Dig It! Hellcat/Epitaph The Terrible Twos If You Ever See an Owl Poquito/Vagrant April 17th The Comas Spells Vagrant Avril Lavigne The Best Damn Thing RCA Page McConnell Page McConnell Legacy Nine Inch Nails Year Zero Nothing/Interscope The Old Soul The Old Soul Friendly Fire Priestbird In Your Time Kemado April 24th Arctic Monkeys Favourite Worst Nightmare Domino Bill Callahan Woke on a Whaleheart Drag City/Caroline Cowboy Junkies At the End of Paths Taken Zoe/Rounder The Electric Soft Parade No Need to be Downhearted Better Looking Gus Gus Forever Groove Atack Kalli While the City Sleeps One Little Indian Mando Diao Ode to Ochrasy Mute Midnight Movies Lion the Girl New Line Patti Smith Twelve Columbia The Veils Nux Vomica Rough Trade/World’s Fair
Apr 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
Cyann & Ben
By Nikki Butgereit Sweet Beliefs, the third album from Paris-based quartet Cyann & Ben, could be a soundtrack to a film comprised of views from a car window on a psychedelic drive. The tracks pile vocals on top of synthesizer effects on top of organ and piano on top of guitar and drums. The effect is a swirling kaleidoscope of sounds where the meaning of the songs comes more from music than lyrics; the nine tracks flow almost seamlessly, building on each other while creating different moods and moments. The twinkling effects and scratch beats in “Sunny Morning” evoke rays of light sparkling on a lake with the persistent, long-held organ notes creating a hum in your head. “Let It Play” sounds like a whirling carousel that picks up speed as the song goes along, making your head spin slightly as the music intensifies to an exuberant crescendo. The track drops off abruptly and the next song, “Somewhere In The Light,” is a spare and melancholy, featuring Cyann’s sweetly lilting vocals, a piano and little else. Cyann & Ben’s music is reminiscent of Sigur Rós, particularly “In Union With…,” where the different instruments seem to be doing their own thing, like each part was created independently and then mashed together to form something that sounds richer for its spontaneity. With the promise of spring whispering all around, Sweet Beliefs is the perfect music to surround you and stir up daydreams as you cruise along the highway. VS
Apr 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
The Arcade Fire
“World War Three, when are you comin’ for me?” Win Butler of the Arcade Fire poses the question in Neon Bible, which is saturated with natural disasters, social unrest, fundamentalist discontent and the toxic emissions from celebrity culture. Arcade Fire opens its mouth to the world, attempts to swallow it, digest, then spit it back out for our benefit. Fortunately, they pull off the huge feat of addressing cultural and global issues without needing to be punk and without sounding anthematically ridiculous. Stadium act they still are not. Rather, the band has worked on crescendo-ing their status and sound not by venue, but by orchestrating the music into sweeping, gothic proportions which, given their choice of instruments – a pipe organ, accordion, hurdy gurdy and the addition of a military choir and a Hungarian orchestra – seems perfectly appropriate. With a grandiosity that exceeds the debut, Funeral, Neon Bible sweeps in with the sinister staccato rumblings of a piano akin to a cold front before a summer storm, thundering alongside windy string arrangements. Tracks dodge between orchestra pit pop and rock epics, finding gospel-influenced ballads tagged with southwestern brass along the way. As Neon Bible reflects on the situation of “us versus the world,” it comes dangerously close to compacting too much doom and gloom into an album that was definitely meant to deliver a blow, not a nudge; after awhile, the same bruise gets punched. The only respite from the global explosion of chaos is the closing track, “No Cars Go” (re-recorded from a previous EP). The Arcade Fire may have favored ending high and hopeful with a message more about running to freedom than running from global assault.
Apr 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
Bob Mittnacht and the Crowning Glories
By Blaine Schultz Tuning into WMSE on Tuesday nights for the Midnight Radio program might give you some advance warning of the influences that figure into Bob Mittnacht’s talents as a songwriter. Coming off somewhere between Garland Jeffries and T-Bone Burnett, Mittnacht and his band combine guileless lyrics with an organic rock sound the features great pedal steel swells by Ken Champion and Hammond organ parts from Larry Byrne. As a guitarist Mittnacht’s clean and economic Telecaster lines add punctuation with punchy riffs. Prismatic childhood memories of older gearheads as well as thoughts of raising one’s own family root these songs in something other than the latest hipster fad. There’s nothing trendy here, just sturdy tunes built for the long haul. Not that Mittnacht doesn’t have an axe to grind. “All Screwed Up,” the ominous “There’s A Better Way” and “Ivory Tower” illuminates his social conscience and frustrations with the powers that be. Here’s to the emergence of the Port Washington Sound. VS See Bob Mittnacht and the Crowning Glories opening 3/11 at Shank Hall with Chris Difford of Squeeze
Mar 9th, 2007 by Vital Archives
The Higher
That maddest of alchemists, the music industry, has managed to seamlessly spin the two most popular genres from the two most dominant high school cliques (punks and preps) into SoundScan gold: the Mallpunk Boy Band, personified by fresh-faced and darling (but edgy and badass) kids like Good Charlotte and Fall Out Boy. And now, Epitaph Records has jumped into the game with The Higher, a competent quintet of lads who expertly paint by numbers with their debut, On Fire. This has the makings of a top seller, so I suppose it’s hard to blame Epitaph, formerly home to politically-charged, socially relevant punk rock like Bad Religion, for releasing something this languid and dispassionate. The performances are solid, the production slick, the hooks not out of place on a Justin Timberlake album. The Higher are destined for commercial success, sure to dominate the Warped Tour mid-card for years (and getting close—so close!—to finally headlining over Motion City Soundtrack). And good for them. Having Fall Out Boy’s Patrick Stump remix one of their tracks (“Pace Yourself” ) won’t hurt, either. It just sounds like a band looking to cash in. With On Fire, one must, at the very least, hope that the kids discovering punk rock through bands like this will take note of the label releasing them, stumble upon Bad Religion and look back at this release with the critical eye of a suddenly more seasoned listener. Perhaps then they will file The Higher away as a band that served their purpose: a junior-high gateway drug to music with substance. Then, in their own special way, The Higher will have mattered. VS
Mar 1st, 2007 by DJ Hostettler
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
Lucinda Williams
By Blaine Schultz Having followed Lucinda Williams’ career since 1988, I find it no surprise that she has moved gracefully from cult artist to icon. She has maintained a consistently high level of songwriting and her choice of musicians and band mates has been impeccable. It doesn’t matter if she wears her heart on her sleeve or writes in character, Williams delivers the goods. West is imbued with Williams’ trademark blend of weariness and grit – it’s obvious when she’s pissed off and it’s obvious when she allows the light of optimism to shine through. On the best tunes here, Williams romantic heartbreak and personal loss (the death of her mom) are grist for the mill. But philosophically, the album’s spotlight is “What If,” a tune she previewed at her last solo Pabst Theater gig. It is a list of absurdities (“… the president wore pink…God was a bum…The sky began to bleed” ) that comes to a head with a simple quest for compassion. And that is what makes any art great: the attempt at connection no matter how great or small the gulf. It’s easy to pigeonhole Williams as a hood ornament for the NPR crowd. But she’s more genuine than any marketing scheme and more complex than many of the one-dimensional artists clogging the limited airwaves and record store CD racks. She can shift like a motorcycle in a minivan culture – not that she seems to care. As easily as she could sing her poetic numbers at an open mic night (“Are You Alright?” ), Williams can go toe-to-toe with the shit-kicker honesty of “Wrap My Head Around That.” Some of these tunes are so bare-wristed that it will be interesting to see how she deals with them live. Then again, that’s pretty much how she’s lived her career so far. It’s too bad she’ll never get to be in a Robert Altman movie. VS
Mar 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
