How's My Living? » Concert Reviews

Concert Roundup: May 2011

Sarah — Thu, 13 Oct 2011 16:09:38 +0000

[ It's been quiet around here lately, thanks to real lives and jobs and all of that, so I figured I'd dig up some half-finished posts of old news and compile them all together for a large post of old news and photos. You may see more posts like these as I continue to edit photos and write in a very untimely manner. ]

Chris Pureka, Holcombe Waller; SPACE, 5/4/11

This is the second time that I’ve seen Chris Pureka at SPACE, although this time she came with a full backing band, rather than doing just a solo show. Pureka’s performances always feel very honest and genuine; her songs about lost love and doomed or dysfunctional relationships can strike a chord with just about anyone. Her setlist largely drew from her latest album, 2010′s How I Learned To See In The Dark, but the real highlight of the show lies in two things: the strength of Pureka’s delivery, and her delightful storytelling. She’s an expert at conveying emotion in her songs, both through lyrics and her voice. You can very easily feel the pain and hurt that’s gone into writing these songs. And Pureka is true to her roots as a folk musician, easily weaving in stories and anecdotes throughout her set. She has an easy way of bantering with the crowd, making her one of the rare musicians I’ve encountered who can make you feel like she’s talking directly to you.

Holcombe Waller was a new discovery for me, and I was infinitely pleased with his set. He’s a Portland-based musician who reminds me of Rufus Wainwright, in a way, to give you a point of reference. Waller’s lyrics are deep and searching, and his voice soars sometimes. There was something truly beautiful about his songs, many of which offered a bit of a more hopeful, upbeat counterpoint prior to Peruka’s set of gritty honesty.

See my photos from the show here on Flickr.

Vandaveer; Empty Bottle, 5/11/11

“What song do you want to hear?” Mark Charles Heidinger asked midway through Vandaveer’s set at the Empty Bottle. It’s pretty standard for audiences to endlessly shout out song requests, but less common for artists to actually shuffle around their setlists to accommodate the crowd. The show was woefully under-attended, a fact that I’ll chalk up to it being a late show on a weeknight. It was worth the lack of sleep to be wowed by Heidinger and Rose Guerin, however. Their voices are both magical and the songwriting is so, so smart. Though they were touring in promotion of their newest album, Dig Down Deep, they didn’t shy away from performing old favorites, too. The duo closed the night out by unplugging and coming down onto the floor, crowd gathered around in a semi-circle, as they wowed us with just their voices, an acoustic guitar, and the tapping of toes to keep time.

See some photos from the show here on Flickr.

Vandaveer: Official Website | MySpace | Facebook | Twitter | Store

Jessica Lea Mayfield, Nathaniel Rateliff; Schubas, 5/14/11

I’ve seen Jessica Lea Mayfield several times over the past couple of years, but I feel like she shined the brightest at this show, the first headlining gig of hers that I’ve caught. The smaller stage of Schubas suited her much better than the larger venues (Lincoln Hall, Metro) I’ve seen her in. Performing with a full band, Mayfield and company filled the room, even on quieter numbers. The crowd was a bit rowdy, but they loved her music, with many people singing along to every word. Mayfield’s music is dark and deeply personal: she writes what she knows, and what she knows could absolutely break your heart.

Nathaniel Rateliff reminded me of the guys I grew up with: a litle rough around the edges, tattoos and scruffy facial hair, worn shirt and work boots and tattoos. None of the guys I grew up with ever sang such rich songs, though. Rateliff’s voice is rough and weary, with just a hint of a twang buried in there. He strikes me as the type to be fronting a rock band, but he’s not. It’s just him and a guitar and some intricate little songs about loss and ache and life.

See more photos from the show on Flickr.

Concert Review: Hideout Block Party, 9/24/11

Sarah — Wed, 28 Sep 2011 19:41:10 +0000

The Hideout Block Party returned this year after a two-year hiatus. Taking over the stretch of Wabansia outside of the Hideout, as well as a large parking lot — Jon Langford joked that Mayor Emanuel came down and personally moved each and every Streets & Sanitation truck out of the lot, just for the Hideout – the Block Party was a celebration of the Hideout’s 15th anniversary. It was also a celebration of Chicago’s vibrant music scene, with many of the artists on the line-up being Chicago natives, or with deep ties to our windy city. It also happened to be probably one of the last truly nice days of the year. I’m guessing the weather largely cooperated because it was afraid to anger the Hideout and its army of staunch supporters. I don’t blame you, weather.

I started my Block Party out with Chicago’s own Kids These Days. The members are all products of Chicago’s public schools, as Hideout owner and education enthusiast Tim Tuten pointed out in his enthusiastic intro. The group of recent high school grads effortlessly blends hip hop, jazz, R&B, soul, rock… you name it, there’s a hint of it in their music. Led by Vic Mensa on rap vocals, Liam Cunningham on lead vocals and guitar, and Macie Stewart on vocals and keyboards, Kids These Days wowed the assembled crowd. The blend of genres made their set accessible even to people who aren’t well-versed in what’s going on in hip hop. The group has been getting the attention they deserve lately, with a set at Lollapalooza, performances at SXSW, and a stint as support for Trombone Shorty.

Like I said in a snarky Tweet, If there’s going to be a conversation about young people making hip hop music which challenges genres and expectations, Kids These Days should be a part of it. Yes, that’s sort of a dig at Odd Future, who were in the spotlight this summer for being young and ambitious and adventurous with their music, but also for being wildly offensive to many listeners. Kids These Days seem to occupy a different part of the musical spectrum: their raps are still punctuated with curses and the n-word at times, but I also didn’t hear any lyrics about rape or murder. (I could be wrong.) There’s room for both groups to exist; I just hope that Kids These Days could become media darlings, too, and show the world that there’s more to youth and rap that what they’d previously thought.

Kids These Days: Official Website | Facebook | Twitter

I skipped the next band, The Eternals, in favor of finding food and meeting up with friends, but made it back to the stage in time to catch blues legend Booker T. Jones. Despite being woefully undereducated on blues, I found his set to be thoroughly enjoyable, from songs from newer releases to old classics like “Green Onions”, and yes, even a quirky cover or two, with Jones appearing back onstage to encore with an instrumental cover of Outkast’s “Hey Ya”. (Regular readers of How’s My Living will be well aware of my long-standing affection for quirky covers of all kinds.) The all-ages crowd seemed into his set, as well, helped along by Jones’ very dynamic backing band. Who knew the bopping sounds of an organ could be so cool?

Booker T. Jones: Official Website | MySpace | Store

Until Jon Langford opened his mouth, I could have sworn that he was a born-and-raised Chicagoan. Shows what I know. Langford is a Welshman who might as well be a Chicagoan, though, especially given the fact that I think he may be in just about every band that calls the city home. (Only a slight exaggeration.) At the Block Party, he was joined on stage by fellow other-Jon-Langford-projects alums Sally Timms and Alan Doughty, and, oh yeah, the Burlington Welsh Male Chorus. Langford’s set was full of sea shanties, murder ballads, high kicks and viking hats and a little bit of punk rock. Not many artists would have the guts to slow their set down with a choral shanty, sung all in Welsh, accompanied solely by guitar, but Langford did, and it worked.

Jon Langford: Official Website | Facebook
The Burlington Welsh Male Chorus: Official Website

There’s no way around it: Mavis Staples is a legend. She’s not just a legend, but she’s our legend. You wouldn’t think that gospel would have a home at the Hideout, but it does. Tim Tuten and company were so intent on getting Mavis for this year’s Block Party that they agreed to every last request in her concert rider, including a request for “a big ass throne”. The Hideout made her one, and it was glorious, every bit befitting the 72-year old Grammy winner.

Staples’ set didn’t differ all that much from when I saw her at Lollapalloza in 2009; she even brought the same backing band with her, all of whom performed on her live album recorded at the Hideout several years ago. Staples is such a captivating performer that her charm, humor, and intense passion are hard to ignore. Crowded at the side of the stage watching her set were many of the other performers from the day: I spotted the White Mystery kids, some guys from Booker T. Jones’ band, Andrew Bird and Nora O’Connor, in addition to numerous Hideout friends and personnel. Her set was full of old Staples family standards like “I’ll Take You There”, as well as offerings from her newest album, “You Are Not Alone”, which brought Nora O’Connor out for a spin on guest vocals. Staples usually covers The Band’s “The Weight”, and this time around, she brought out Andrew Bird to play along and pick up a verse. Even the un-religious among us couldn’t help but be moved by Staples’ triumphant return to the Hideout.

Mavis Staples: Official Website | MySpace | Facebook | Store

Martin Dosh, who also serves as Andrew Bird’s drummer and collaborator, played a brief ambient set before Bird took the stage. I enjoy his albums, and it definitely takes a lot of skill to be the one man band/looping machine/drummer/keyboardist that he is, but am always left a bit cold by the live performance. I guess I just like having something to look at. His instrumental set was a bit of a mood-changer after the high-spirited show put on by Mavis Staples, and most of the crowd was eager for Bird to take the stage.

If the day belonged to classic acts like Booker T. Jones and Mavis Staples, though, the night belonged to Andrew Bird, one of the many artists who called the Hideout home at the start of a career. (In Bird’s case, that’s not just a metaphor: he mentioned that he literally lived above the Hideout for a while.) Bird performed at one of the last Block Parties before its hiatus, (an event that I’m still kicking myself for missing) so it was only fitting that he return here as the night’s last act.

Bird kicked his set off with some moody instrumental pieces, as he usually does. As he played, a gigantic fabricated whale, lofted high above the assembled people, made its way through the crowd. The whale, courtesy of visual arts group Opera-matic, came with its own keening whale noises, seemingly conversing with the wail of Bird’s violin. Does that make sense? Probably not. Just watch the video; it will enlighten you.

From there, Bird launched into a set of old favorites from throughout his career. The setlist held few surprises in way of song choice — the biggest surprises were “Dark Matter”, which I’m not sure I’ve seen him do before live, and his rendition of “Bein’ Green”, which recently appeared on the Muppets tribute album. His delivery of the song is downright perfect: enough whimsy to fit right in to the Muppets universe, but with just a hint of questioning or vulnerability, perfect for our good friend Kermit the Frog.

There were plenty of treats along the way, aside from the gigantic whale. Paloma Carrasco, a high school student who is the recipient of the Rock for Kids scholarship named after Bird, came out to sing a mariachi song, accompanied by Bird and original Bowl of Fire member Colin Bunn on guitar. The crowd seemed unsure what to make of the girl at first, and there was a lot of talking which she was introducing herself. But then she opened her mouth and silenced everyone. Carrasco has a huge voice, perfect for the type of song she chose to perform. I believe she’s only a sophomore in high school, but her voice is much older and much richer than her years.

Much like his recent show in Ann Arbor, the bulk of the set was devoted to new songs from Bird’s forthcoming album, which he said should be released in March 2012. It’s a bold move: you’ve got a couple thousand people gathered, many of whom are there mostly to see you, and you play material that most of them are unfamiliar with. I felt some of the attention of the crowd waning during the latter half of the set; people wanted to hear songs they already loved. For my part, these songs are already well-worn treasures that are getting better with age. Granted, that comes with the territory whenever you follow an artist with the same sort of fervor that I follow Bird’s work, but still. Hearing the newer songs with the full backing band — in some cases with two drummers, as Bowl of Fire member Kevin O’Donnell came out to join in on several songs — was an absolute joy to me. Hearing how the songs have evolved, how the rest of the band came together to contribute to the songs that Bird had already constructed, has given me a greater idea of just what the new album is shaping up to be.

And I’m excited, folks. I’m very excited. With Nora O’Connor stepping in to provide backing vocals on many of the new songs, and with the always creative guitar work of Jeremy Ylvisaker, the songs feel fuller, more fleshed out. They’re still songs about growth, survival, moving on, only now they’re louder, more intricate, more alive, all befitting the themes that are populating Bird’s newest works. The trio of “Breeding Desperation” (about “an era without bees”), nearly seamlessly transitioning into a cover of Alpha Consumer’s “Crown Salesman”, and “I on I” (or perhaps “Eye on Eye”) was a particular highlight for me. “Crown Salesman” was absolutely a rock song compared to the previous times I’ve heard Bird do it. The song pushed along into near anthemic territory by the contributions of O’Donnell on drums and Ylvisaker, a member of Alpha Consumer. With its cryptic lyrics, it’s always felt like an Andrew Bird song, and I am secretly hoping that it’s made it onto the new album.

The night wouldn’t be complete without some post-apocalyptic snacks, and Bird closed out his main set with “Tables and Chairs”, a song which has taken on increasing relevance over the years, with its talk of crumbling financial institutions. Despite my cramped position, pressed up against the railing separating the masses from the photo pit, I danced and sang along as best I could. At this point, I’m just waiting for the collapse of our government and society as we know it, so we can get on with the snacks and pony rides and dancing bears. It’s got to be true; Andrew Bird promised that’s the way it would be.

It also wouldn’t be an Andrew Bird show without a Handsome Family cover, as he returned to the stage with the band and Nora O’Connor for a stunning encore of their song “So Much Wine”. The lyrics, like most Handsome Family songs, read like a short story, and Bird and O’Connor’s voices lend themselves perfectly to it. The night ended on that quiet note as the sound booth signaled from offstage that there wasn’t time for one more. While I’d been hoping for concert favorite “Fake Palindromes”, “So Much Wine” proved for a perfect send-off, albeit a bit of a sobering one, if you bothered to listen to the words.

Andrew Bird: Official Website | MySpace | Twitter | Store

Setlist
Instrumental
Instrumental (with effects from Operamatic)
Dark Matter
A Nervous Tic Motion of the Head to the Left
Effigy
Bein’ Green
Plasticities
La Cigarra (ft. Paloma Carrasco on vocals, Colin Bunn on guitar)
Fitz and the Dizzy Spells
Give it Away (with Nora O’Connor)
The Lusitania
Breeding Desperation
Crown Salesman (Alpha Consumer cover)
I on I
Danse Caribbe
Fatal Shores (with Nora O’Connor)
Tables and Chairs
Encore
So Much Wine (with Nora O’Connor; Handsome Family cover)

North Coast Music Festival: Day 3 Recap

Liz Smyth — Mon, 05 Sep 2011 20:12:04 +0000

The last day of The North Coast Music Festival is over, and I survived three days of naked glittering torsos, Camelbak packs as far as the eye could see, furry knee-high boots, neon tutus and stumbling, semi-coherent concert goers. Would I do again? Hell yes.

From the top left: log rolling at the Dos Equis booth, crowd-made video game icons, Gogol Bordello, Bassnectar, Benny Benassi, Latyrx, ATB, Of Montreal, and more Bassnectar

Paper Diamond was the first act I caught. His music is an interesting mix of driving beats with electronic and house melodies. It reminded me a little of 90s trip-hop, but with more energy. He’s working on a new EP with the label Pretty Lights Music, and what I heard from it was great.

On a friend’s recommendation I stayed for part of Latyrx‘s set, a hip-hop duo that also employed a DJ and drummer for this performance. They’re from Oakland, and to me their sound had the bay area vibe of laid-back, soul and funk influenced hip-hop. If you’re into that sort of thing, I think they would be perfect accompaniment to Labor Day barbecues!

After Latyrx I checked out Loyal Divide at the local stage, having heard them last week on this blog. The formula of each song seemed to be as follows: pounding electronics, then an atmospheric guitar riff layered in, followed by overpowering, sometimes screeching vocals. Oh, and they had a sax player, which gave it a creepy, David Lynch vibe that I dug. I actually really enjoyed this set, when the singer wasn’t screaming out of key. His softer, gentler voice was a little Thom Yorke mixed with Hamilton Leithauser (of The Walkmen). If you like Foals or Battles then you should definitely look up Loyal Divide.

The next few hours were a blur of ATB, Of Montreal, Gogol Bordello, Benny Benassi and Bassnectar. What sticks out to me now is firstly Of Montreal: I’ve seen them before but their live show always amazes me. They had (in no particular order): balloons, an inflatable row-boat for crowd surfing, WWE-style wrestlers, dancers with augmented body parts, and shiny silver women with wings. I wondered how they played such a solid set with all that happened around them. Of Montreal ended with a fiddle tribute to America that had the audience square dancing. Awesome. Their 70s and 80s influenced pop-rock wasn’t exactly my style, but they were completely entertaining.

Benny Benassi was amazing. I’m not even into house music that much, but he combines it with dubstep and who knows what else in a way that had the crowd freaking out. It was so packed at the Red Bull Grove Stage during his set that I could barely get close enough to lose the bleed-through from the other stages. I am finding his future shows and attending, stat.

And then there was Bassnectar. His music is sick (do people still say that?) and intensely bass-laden, but he somehow still comes across as wholesome. He’s like the vegan surfer next door who is secretly a chess champion, but if you ask him about it he’ll say it’s not a big deal. Bassnectar humbly accepted the duty of closing out the festival, and then amazed us all for an hour and a half. What a great way to end the weekend!

North Coast Music Festival: Day 2 Recap

Liz Smyth — Sun, 04 Sep 2011 19:18:53 +0000

The second day of The North Coast Music Festival started with rain. I was afraid it would pour and turn Union Park into a mud pit, but it only ever lightly rained which was a welcome way to help us all stay cool. First up was RJD2 (an American DJ) with Break Science (a duo of musicians), who played an interesting mix of dub, electronic and hip-hop. From what I could tell only Break Science’s drummer was on stage, but the combination of live drums with a DJ made for entertaining listening.

After relaxing with the first band, I ventured to the Magic Hat Local Stage, where I’ve been consistently impressed with the local talent Chicago has to offer. There I found Nameloc rocking the crowd with dubstep. I’ve become much more familiar with dubstep in the past few days, and find it incredibly easy to dance to, and also full of rhythmic intricacy that the music major in me definitely enjoys.

Next up at the Red Bull Grove Stage was Major Lazer, one of the few non-headliners I was familiar with before this weekend. This group formed while working with M.I.A., so think of their music as reminiscent of her tight beats but with less political edge and a dose of an almost Jamaican vibe. They were great in my opinion, and had a huge crowd of festival goers enjoying themselves. Here’s a picture from the set:

Major Lazer at the Red Bull Grove Stage

If you’re interested in checking them out I recommend a mixtape they did with La Roux called Lazerproof. It’s available here for free download.

After dancing at Major Lazer’s set I moved back to the largest stage to check out Rusko, probably the biggest dubstep act performing this weekend. He alternated drum and bass with dubstep, and was the most energetic DJ I’ve ever seen. I loved it. I tried to get a good picture, but between the crowd and his undulations here’s the best I could do:

Rusko at the North Coast Stage, a study in movement : )

Immediately after Rusko, Common played on the adjacent Named After Groupon Stage. Yes, he’s critically acclaimed, writes great lyrics, and has even been invited to the White House to perform, but did he keep me going after many hours of dancing? Not really. His smooth style of hip-hop just didn’t draw me in. At a different venue, however, I’m sure I could more easily appreciate his talent. I stayed at his set a few minutes, and then found myself migrating to Carl Cox‘s techno-y house music at the Red Bull Grove Stage. His music is intense, tinged with jazz, and great fun. If you ever get the chance to check him out please do!

Lastly, I mistakenly saw STS9, assuming that Fatboy Slim would be playing the largest stage, when he was actually at the smaller, side stage. STS9 is a five-piece electronic collective from Santa Cruz, and was a very down-tempo end to the evening. In retrospect they had a calm Kraftwerk vibe that I might have enjoyed, but I didn’t stay through the set as I assumed it was a new, disappointing direction for Fatboy Slim’s music. I’m not sure if I’d recommend STS9, except maybe as background music for a swanky lounge, and this evening I’ll be sure to double check my schedule.

North Coast Music Festival: Day 1 Recap

Liz Smyth — Sat, 03 Sep 2011 16:26:41 +0000

Hi, my name is Liz, and I somehow landed the lucky job of covering The North Coast Music Festival for How’s My Living. I’ve been a music fan for as far back as I can remember, and although I haven’t performed since college, it continues to be my companion, cheerleader, and all around best friend. So understandably I jumped at the chance to cover this fest! Now on to the good stuff:

First up Friday afternoon was Orchard Lounge, a Chicago trio that spins a collection of b-boy jams, including everything from downtempo to house. While I enjoyed their chilled out set, they were accompanied by a local b-boy dance troupe whose announcer pretty consistently yelled over the music, which made it hard to focus on the group. I think Orchard Lounge would definitely be worth checking out on their own though, and they happen to be playing a seven-hour all vinyl set at SmartBar tonight! (That’s a lot of vinyl.)

Next I ventured to the Magic Hat Local Stage and found Stratus rocking the crowd. He had me at his mix of “Crush On You” by the Jets. Check out this photo of concert-goers dancing their fannies off:

Stratus at the Magic Hat Local Stage

Stratus could be characterized as a dubstep DJ, but I’m honestly not great at labeling dance music, so here’s my description: it was like a crazy bass monster hijacked Missy Elliot’s mind and spit out syncopated, deranged, insanely intense beats. Under this kind of influence you can’t help but dance.

Back at The Named After Groupon Stage, Auto Body came out looking like the offspring of The Black Keys and ZZ Top, and then proceeded to play 80s influenced dance-pop. Who knew? Composed of Felix Moreno and Tibaut Bowman from Austin, TX, their MySpace page calls them indie electro fusion, and I’d say that’s as good a descriptor as any. They were definitely danceable, and the large crowd that formed agreed. Their last song channeled Kasabian, but hey, I liked Kasabian. These guys play the kind of driving, danceable music you put on to get things done.

Auto Body at The Named After Groupon Stage

Immediately after Auto Body on the adjacent North Coast Stage was SBTRKT. Hailing from London, SBTRKT wears tribal masks and has a non-descript name purportedly to ensure that his music is the focus. I kept wondering, though, why his tribal mask was necessary as it looked to be obscuring his view of the equipment, so for me it distracted during his set. He started with a remix of Radiohead’s “Lotus Flower” that I thought was nicely understated, but after that I began to lose interest. However, in the second half of his set he steered away from obvious remixes and got down to what I felt was the heart of his sound: interesting, enjoyable electronics. Overall it wasn’t mind-blowing, but it certainly wasn’t a bad way to pass an hour on a beautiful Friday afternoon.

After SBTRKT the DJ rig on the main stage was raised about 6 feet, and it was getting dark: the headliners were next. Wolfgang Gartner played for an hour. I don’t have many notes from that time because I was dancing my butt off. He’s an electro-house DJ, and although that’s not my immediate go-to style of music for dancing, something about the huge crowd and the light show and the pounding music combined to make it a great experience. If there is one reason to come to The North Coast Music Festival I’d say that’s it. After Wolfgang Gartner, David Guetta took the stage, and while I can appreciate him on paper, for some reason his house music never makes me move the way it should. It was perfectly okay though: I was already happily danced out and sweaty from the fun of the day.

Concert Review: Andrew Bird, Colorado Chautauqua (Boulder), 8/10/11

Mel — Thu, 11 Aug 2011 08:13:17 +0000

We’re having fun guessing where Andrew Bird’s sock monkey ran off to, because there was no monkey in front of the Janus horn tonight, either. Current frontrunner theories: a holiday in Mallorca, getting another bespoke monkey suit made, off seeing Rise of the Planet of the Apes.

But I think I can manage to put down the monkey theories for a while, because there’s a show review to write, and a little expansion to do on last night’s review.

When I wrote that post about “Fake Palindromes,” I left off one in that list of songs that Andrew Bird has written about powerful women: “Weather Systems.”

It’s one that’s particularly special to me, because living in Colorado has given me an understanding of the song that I wouldn’t otherwise have had. Everything you’ve ever heard about the sky out west being bigger is true — and what goes with that is being able to see the weather coming a few hours before it arrives. I’ve spent three and a half years watching storm systems spill over the Front Range and head out over the plains, watching fronts roll through southern Wyoming, figuring out that the monsoon rain is right over my apartment from twelve miles away on the completely dry interstate, zipping down the road to the Denver airport where one side of the highway looks like a Roy Rogers fantasy land (complete with bouncing tumbleweeds) and the other looks like Mordor. Living here has made me very aware of space: how much space I take up, how much others take up, how fast you can get to a place where the road is the only visible sign of human habitation from downtown Denver, and how we use the space we have — and, yes, about how long it will be before the surprise blizzard strands you at the airport overnight. (Three hours, in late March.) I can see it all from here, the weather systems of the world.

What’s notable about that song is that the story unfolds from a place of stillness. The unnamed woman is speaking to the back of the unnamed man’s head, from the edge of a bed. And weather systems don’t stay still. She sits, she tells him that she can see everything, and she affirms every individual’s status as a free agent of varying degrees of power and importance. All she has to do to see all of that is watch the weather roll in and move out.

Having done exactly that many times in the last few years, I can tell you that the experience isn’t entirely unlike watching Andrew Bird perform, and the connection there is space, and how it’s used. If Bird is still, with little to no kinetic energy to him, something’s wrong. He knows how much space he has to use on the stage and he knows how important it is to not get tangled in the mics, cords, and various instruments — if he does, disaster. Watching Bird move is like watching a particularly unpredictable weather system. The only constant is that he stays in motion.

And the last year and a half, at the Largo show and the gezelligheid shows, that motion has mostly been slow and sluggish. After the last two nights, it doesn’t appear that that’s the case any more. He’s terrifying in both his economy of movement — I spent a lot of time watching the bow of his violin — and in the way that all his movement appears necessary. The fierce, theatrical physicality of the show is tremendous — and it’s also what it used to be like to watch him. If he mostly took off the last year and a half to recharge, it’s worked. His performance is magnificent.

Over the last two nights we heard nearly everything that he’s been playing that could be categorized as potential tracks on the new record. (I believe the only one currently missing is “The Fatal Shore” — if you know otherwise, let me know.) Let’s run them down:

You Woke Me Up/Dyin Bed Maker
Hole In The Ocean Floor
Eye On Eye (formerly “Oh Baltimore”)
Desperation Breeds
Lusitania
Orpheo Looks Back
Danse Caribbe
The Lazy Projector
Give It Away

Like I said last night, the material is further refined, sharper, with more harmonic elements worked into the looping — but Bird hasn’t defeated it so much as temporarily wrestled it into submission. There were differences in arrangement in “Desperation Breeds” and “Danse Caribbe” between the two nights, and not all of the differences worked in Bird’s favor. On the car ride home from Boulder we were listening to live and studio recordings of the same songs, and I said, “The new material I heard tonight is a lot tighter than it’s been — but I can’t project what the band versions are going to sound like, whether live or studio, because none of it sounds complete enough for that. Can you?” Nobody in the car could. None of us are professional musicians, of course, and it’s entirely possible that Bird and company have already been working on that — especially given the Hideout Block Party next month, which is supposed to be with the band. But if the new record is as close to done as Bird made it sound both tonight and in his interview with Westword, Denver’s alt-weekly, there’s a lot of work left to do if we’re getting that album in the first quarter of 2012.

All of that aside — as pleasant and cricket-filled as the Arvada Center is, tonight’s show at the Colorado Chautauqua in Boulder was miles better in terms of how well Bird used his space. The Chautauqua is more than a hundred years old, and as a venue, it’s the venerable wooden roller coaster to all the slick coasters that turn you upside down and try to kill you. It is the music barn to end all music barns. It seats 1500 and it feels smaller. The acoustics are ace and the room feels like it’s got real history. Both Andrew Bird and Haley Bonar responded well to that. Part of it was that there was an actual space to fill — no walls at the Arvada Center — but they also took visible pleasure in heading down to the PA-less mic at the front of the stage to do the Charley Patton covers and “Lusitania.” “Old-timey style,” Bird said, with satisfaction.

There’s one last point I want to note in passing, because it’s a thought that isn’t full-fledged enough to do anything with quite yet. Bird seems to be tracing the Great Migration and the Middle Passage in reverse: in terms of musical influence, he starts from Chicago, works down to Mississippi, over to the Caribbean, and, with his recent collaborations with Konono N° 1 and Etran Finitawa (which he spoke about tonight), back to Africa. There’s no indication of how conscious a process this may be for Bird, but it’s a pattern, and worth keeping an eye on in the next few years.

That same line about crumbled financial institutions in “Tables and Chairs” got cheers again tonight. “Lusitania” with Haley Bonar was my favorite — they just tore it up. Live, I’ve heard Annie Clark of St. Vincent, Julianna Barwick, and Haley Bonar take the second part of the duet, and Bonar brings a real edge to it that the song seems to need in order to give the resolution any tension at all. “You Woke Me Up” seems to be titled “Dyin’ Bed Maker” now — another Charley Patton nod — and there’s still that line in “Desperation Breeds” that references the standard “Make Me Down A Pallet On Your Floor.”

In other words, Andrew Bird is screwing around with temporality, referentiality, genre, and space again, and at least for a few hours, all was right with the world. Tomorrow is for the rest of it all. Tonight is for snacks with friends.

Set list:

Hole In The Ocean Floor
Why?
Nyatiti
A Nervous Tic Motion of the Head to the Left
Eye On Eye
Desperation Breeds
Masterfade
Dyin’ Bed Maker
Carrion Suite
Effigy (with Haley Bonar)
Spare-Ohs (with Haley Bonar)
Lusitania (with Haley Bonar, without PA)
Orpheo Looks Back (without PA)
Tables And Chairs

Encore:

Goin’ Home (Charley Patton cover)
Danse Caribbe
Weather Systems

Andrew Bird: Official Website | MySpace | Twitter | Store

Concert Review: Andrew Bird, Arvada Center, 8/9/11

Mel — Wed, 10 Aug 2011 06:11:24 +0000

There is something pretty magical about Colorado in the summer. That goes double for concerts in the quasi-outdoors.

Arvada is a suburb to the northwest of Denver, and it’s a place where fields with horses are interspersed with strip malls. Crickets were audible during the performance — something Andrew Bird commented on tonight. “It sounds like home,” he said.

Indeed. I’ve spent the last several days packing up my apartment — come Saturday, I’m moving roughly a thousand miles away from Denver — but I blocked out time for this concert, and also his show up at the Colorado Chautauqua tomorrow night in Boulder. Like I did with the DC gezelligheid shows last year, I’m planning on reserving a lot of my commentary for after the Boulder show.

We’re still looking at a lot of the same new material, but refined yet again. I’m noticing much more in the way of harmonic work underlying both the newer and the older material — there are more lines woven into “You Woke Me Up” in the setup prior to the entry of the glockenspiel, for example, and more lines woven into “The Lazy Projector” and “Nyatiti”. His endings, overall, are more minimal, often relying on a single faded note than closing on a played chord as he’s been doing for the last little while.

But what I really saw tonight is confidence I haven’t seen since 2008. He’s projecting a calm mastery of his material, and really digging into it, in ways that have been missing in the last several performances I’ve caught. He was relaxed, casual, in control. “Tables and Chairs” was an audience request; he asked us to sing along to fill in the blanks he thought his new arrangement left. Folks cheered at we’re going to meet some day in the crumbled financial institutions of this land, so he dug in and made it even better. The subject matter of the newer material also has an oddly contemporary tenor, considering how long he’s been working on it. It’s more present, more concerned with contemporary issues, in the same ways as Armchair Apocrypha. The presentness of the lyrics carried over into Bird’s presence on stage, and that intensity made the group of us out in the amphitheater into a full-on gathering.

The highlights for me were easily “Tables and Chairs”, “Danse Caribbe”, and his duet of “Spare-Ohs” with Haley Bonar — though his revamped solo arrangement of “Fitz and the Dizzyspells” deserves a special mention. It’s maybe the best example I have of the differences I see in him now as compared to the gezelligheid shows and his Largo show. He didn’t attack the song, because he didn’t have to. His performance was more joyful than anything I’ve seen him do in literally years.

And it went well. All our Colorado friends were there: Bird, Bonar, the crickets, even Scramble Campbell, painting the show. (You can see the painting to the right.) It was a break from everything. And I’m looking forward to seeing what, if anything, changes in Boulder tomorrow night. Back to packing boxes for now.

(But I’ll leave you with the burning question my friend and I had all night: where is the sock monkey?)

Set List:

You Woke Me Up
Hole In The Ocean Floor
Why?
Nyatiti
A Nervous Tic Motion Of The Head To The Left
The Lazy Projector
Carrion Suite
Desperation Breeds
Effigy (with Haley Bonar)
Give It Away
Fitz and the Dizzyspells
Plasticities
Spare-Ohs (with Haley Bonar)
Tables and Chairs

Encore:
Goin’ Home (Charley Patton cover, with Haley Bonar, without PA)
Danse Caribbe

Andrew Bird: Official Website | MySpace | Twitter | Store

Concert Review: Andrew Bird; Power Center, Ann Arbor, MI, 6/18/11

Sarah — Wed, 22 Jun 2011 15:33:24 +0000

If it isn’t quite obvious by now, I am a fan of Andrew Bird in all of his many incarnations: swing revivalist, contemplative solo artist, unlikely rock band front man. I’m a fan whether the performance is tight and flawless, or if it resembles a practice session. The concert at Ann Arbor’s Power Center for the Performing Arts was a little closer to the latter, with a scruffy Andrew Bird winding his way through a nearly two-hour set of both old favorites and newer compositions, some of which are still obviously unfinished.

The show may have lacked a bit of polish, and his whistle may not have been as clear and crisp as usual, but as someone who has been anxious to hear what Bird has been up to in the six months since I’d last seen him, I was more than pleased. I think a slightly-less-than-perfect performance can outshine a flawless one any day; to me, those little mistakes make the show seem more human.

Bird performed the show largely solo, though he was joined on a few numbers by opener Haley Bonar and guitarist Jeremy Ylvisaker. Bonar and Bird go way back, with Bonar providing backing vocals on several tracks on Armchair Apocrypha; Ylvisaker, of course, has been collaborating regularly in Bird’s current band set-up. They joined him on a beautiful version of “Spare-Ohs”, from Armchair Apocrypha, which was inspired by several events, including the death-via-foxes of his many chickens at his barn in rural Illinois. It’s a story I’ve heard tons of times, in tapes of older shows, but it’s always been one of my favorites.

The new songs, however, were a main focal point of the show. Playing so many new songs could potentially be off-putting to the casual fan who mostly wants to hear his or her favorite song, but Bird went ahead and even dared to end his main set with a new song, “Danse Caribbe”. He acknowledged the unconventional setlist, thanking the audience several times for being patient enough to sit through so much new material. I am biased, of course, but I truly relish the chance to get to hear new, unreleased songs by any artist. They give a feel for what’s to come on the new album, and this show was no exception.

In a recent interview with Gazelle Emami at the Huffington Post, Bird said that he was most inspired by “love, regret, [and] the pursuit of happiness” on his upcoming album, several songs of which we were (presumably) treated to in Ann Arbor. It’s a theme that shines through in the new songs he’s been trotting out. “Lazy Projector” is about selective memory, Bird explains. His voice seems nearly fragile throughout as he sings “[who is] the editor splicing your face from the scene? It’s all in the hands of the lazy projector, that forgetting, embellishing, lying machine,” and closes the song with the repeated refrain of “No, I can’t see the sense in us breaking up at all,” the ultimate expression of remembering only the good times in a relationship, at the expense of the many reasons you probably broke up in the first place. “The Lusitania”, a song which Bird has been trying out live since at least 2009, has always been a song that uses “naval history as a metaphor for relationships and the excuses we make for conflict” (and also is a little bit about electricity).

“Orpheo Looks Back” presumably takes its name from the Orpheus myth, where the singer Orpheus is to retrieve his dead wife from the underworld, on the condition that he does not look back at her until they have both arrived at the upper world. ”Orpheo…” is still very unfinished, with an A-section and a B-section that Bird can’t quite figure out how to piece together. ”This is the real wild card of the evening,” he said while introducing the song. ”I figured watching me struggle might be entertaining.” While there were definite gaps as he moved between sections, the song is still shaping up to be something lovely.

Based on the new songs he’s been performing, if 2009’s Noble Beast was a slighty cryptic yet ultimately pretty badass break-up record, this forthcoming album is going to be a pretty badass look at recovery, rising from the ashes, starting over. I can’t wait to hear it.

Andrew Bird: Official Website | MySpace | Twitter | Store

Setlist
Instrumental
Hole in the Ocean Floor
Why?
Nyatiti
A Nervous Tic Motion of the Head to the Left
Lazy Projector
Plasticities
The Lusitania
Orpheo Looks Back
Headsoak
Breeding Desperation
Give It Away
Natural Disaster
Effigy (with Jeremy Ylvisaker)
Yeah, Trouble (Alpha Consumer cover, with Jeremy Ylvisaker)
Spare-Ohs (with Jeremy Ylvisaker and Haley Bonar)
Danse Caribbe
Encore
Fatal Shores (with Jeremy Ylvisaker and Haley Bonar)
Goin’ Home (Charley Patton cover, with Jeremy Ylvisaker and Haley Bonar)
Weather Systems

Concert Review: Jens Lekman, Somebody’s Dining Room (Secret Show), 6/16/11

Mel — Fri, 17 Jun 2011 23:19:25 +0000

After midnight last night, as we cruised up Downing Street, I said, “I’d sure like to know who’s getting married in town that flew in Jens Lekman to perform at the wedding.”

“Me too,” my friend said. We plan to check the society pages of the Sunday Denver Post. (If you’re reading this, newlyweds, congratulations!) That’s how Lekman came to town, and he chose to spend his Thursday night on a secret show.

Through a series of events that started on Twitter, we found ourselves in a living room down in the Baker District with about two and a half hours’ notice. It came from an email with not much more than an address and a start time. The house is shared by at least two young men who are musicians themselves; they opened for Lekman. The fifty-odd people who showed were mostly out in the back yard socializing, but my friend and I wandered in to watch.

I’m guessing it was the dining room that was converted into a performance space, with blankets and sheets stapled all over the walls and ceiling, and the fabric covered in places by paintings. They’d set up a light system, too, and a permanent taper stand was up in the corner by the ceiling. There were strings of lights hanging in front of the (covered) bay window, where the performers are supposed to stand, and strands of lights hanging all over the fake potted tree behind the mic stands.

So, yeah. We saw Jens Lekman play in somebody’s dining room.

The reason I knew this was something that we absolutely shouldn’t miss, despite both of us having work early in the morning, was an endorsement from one of my best friends from high school, who was the one who introduced me to the Magnetic Fields when there was boy trouble in college. She compared Lekman to Stephin Merritt. I didn’t follow through on her recommendation, but I remembered the name, I sampled some songs yesterday, and I thought, This is going to be really, really good.

And it was. Of the fiftyish people, we managed to squeeze about twenty-five into the dining room. Lekman was quiet and unassuming, periodically accompanied by violin and cajón. His voice was quiet — “Denver’s air is so dry,” he said, “I have to be careful” — and the audience respected that. As for the music, it was wonderful. I didn’t keep track of what he played, so unfortunately I can’t provide a set list — three of the songs he played last night were “Waiting for Kirsten”, “The Opposite of Hallelujah”, and “The End Of The World Is Bigger Than Love” — but I know I’ll be listening to Jens Lekman’s music a lot more starting right now.

Apparently Lekman was supposed to play in Denver in 2008 but couldn’t make it because of getting stuck in a snowstorm in Wyoming — that’ll do it — and he said he was glad to finally make it. He also spoke about his fondness for doing living room and back yard shows — nobody at the door treating you badly, no bartender treating you badly, no sound guy treating him badly — and his gratitude that he was able to play for us like that.

It was hot, it was crowded, it smelled like beer and cigarettes and a little pot. The lights sometimes changed colors in alarming ways. The dining room was like a sardine can. In other words, it was magical and I wouldn’t change a minute of it. Thanks to the soon-to-be newlyweds who brought him to Denver; thanks to the guys who offered up their house to a bunch of strangers; thanks to Jens Lekman and company for a great show. Telluride may be ongoing, Mumford and Sons may have been at the Fillmore for the last two nights, but I’m convinced I caught the best show of the week.

Jens Lekman: Official Site | MySpace | Facebook | Store

Concert Review: Over the Rhine, Lucy Wainwright Roche; Lincoln Hall, 4/8/11

Sarah — Fri, 22 Apr 2011 15:34:50 +0000

[I've had this post sitting around in my drafts for a little while, and though it's not exactly timely anymore, I've got to admit that I'm really proud of how these photos came out, and wanted to share them in a post here with people who may not have seen them otherwise.]

Over the Rhine have long been one of my favorite bands, ever since I was first introduced to them by a friend in college. They manage to combine many of the things which make music fun for me: well-written, thoughtful lyrics; a singer with a powerful voice; a playful stage presence; an easy rapport with their fans. Karin Bergquist, she of the huge voice, is someone who I admire tremendously as a singer. I would love to channel her energy and strength as a performer. Over the Rhine songs are always my go-to songs when I’m looking to give myself something to do vocally. I walked around the house singing along to their new album, The Long Surrender, the other day; my cat looked at me as if I’d lost my mind, but sometimes you’ve just got to belt out along with Karin: ”All my favorite people are broken, believe me, my heart should know.”

Currently on tour for The Long Surrender, the band’s setlist for the evening drew primarily from that album. While there were some old favorites that I missed hearing, I do enjoy the new songs. Some of the new songs have been floating around for a while now; I saw them perform a few of them at SPACE last year. It’s been interesting to see which new songs made the cut for the album and which are still just live-only tracks. Unlike some bands who constantly re-tool new songs between being debuted on the road and winding up on a record, the newly debuted songs last year didn’t sound all that different from their official, post-release renditions. It’s a fact that makes it easy to convince someone to see Over the Rhine in concert: if you like Over the Rhine’s studio albums, you’ll love them live. End of story.

The main thing that I love about an Over the Rhine show is that there is always a sense of warmth and family present. There’s never a disconnect between performer and fan. The whole show feels like a conversation, like we could be sitting in Karin and Linford’s Civil War-era house, their dogs curled up on the sofas, listening to them chat and sing, like we’re all old friends. They tell stories, both spoken and sung, and for just a little bit, you can wrap yourself up in Karin’s warm voice. You don’t have to forget your troubles, but maybe you can exorcise some demons along the way as she sings.

Lucy Wainwright Roche is a frequent opener for Over the Rhine, something that makes me immensely happy, as it gets Lucy and her beautiful voice and simple folk songs even more exposure. I first found Lucy several years ago, when she was just finding her feet in the busy world of Wainwrights-as-musicians, and have been pleased to follow her career since then, whether it’s a house concert in Bridgeport or opening for half-brother Rufus in a large, ornate theatre. Her wry sense of humor and storytelling always charm the audience; every time I’ve seen her, I’ve always been struck by how many people leave the concert talking about how much they enjoyed Lucy. (I go to a lot of shows. It’s not often that people are still talking about the opener, even after the main act is finished.) Many of her songs came from her new, self-released album, and Lucy even got Over the Rhine in on the action during her set, bringing them up for a sing-along to Bruce Springsteen’s “Hungry Heart”.

See the rest of my photos on Flickr. For more photos which are way better than mine, check out Tammi Myers’ at QRO Magazine.

Setlist behind the jump.

The Laugh of Recognition
Rave On
Sharpest Blade
Suitcase
Undamned
On a Roll
Oh Yeah By The Way
The King Knows How
Infamous Love Song
Only God Can Save Us Now
Unspoken (instrumental)
There’s a Bluebird in My Heart
Trouble
Days Like This
All My Favorite People

Encore
Drunkard’s Prayer
No-Kill Shelter