The Dead Weather @ 930 Club

Freakin sweet! My review is here.

DC can dance!

Evidently DC folks can dance and move. Since moving here nearly four years ago, I have always wondered what it was about DC that kept people's feet planted and arms crossed at shows. Like the Rapture points out in this here song, 'people dont dance not more.' But DC proved me wrong last night at the 930 club, when the Ratatat came on stage.

As was the case with Modest Mouse, I was rather disapointed with the opener I caught, and took refuge in the back bar. I mentioned to my compadre at the show that my 'band' back in college was of similar quality and far more fun. Our deconstructions of sound and life would make your ears bleed with joy.

Moving on, Ratatat's set was quite good, and I must reinforce that they moved more people to dance that I have ever seen in DC, which I find to be remarkable. I think their unique blend of house and rock is just the right mix to get lots of people into it. Even the folks in the balconies were shakin' it.

I have to say that what does it for me is more the guitars than the thumping beats and awesome wacky samples. I am aware that describing a guitar as 'wailing' is about as over used as Jenna Jameson's nether regions (zing!) but it really seems to be the most apt description. The crowd exploded when the guitars cut in in MIrando (video below, about 1:10 in). It really was intense and it doesn't come accross that way in the video. Neither do the scathing solos or the intensity in their live show. It's easy to see why they sold out the show.

Their sound is just so overwhelming. I don't know how the few people that werent moving werent. I wanted to ask a girl a few feet to my left if she was ok. They also incorporate and amazing amount of sound into their stuff. They're the only guys I know of using harpsichord in music that would not be foreign to a dance club. I think that is what really sets them apart. There's a lot of creativity in what they do. They draw on a boatload of influences to make the music that they do, they play the shit out of it, and they back it with and incredible show.

These guys top the Black Keys and Dan Auerbach with their lighting, which is not an easy thing to do, and match the Flaming Lips in the kick ass, off the wall, visuals to go with their show. From enourmous birds to nose-less faces mouthing the effects to old home movies of folks playing at the beach, theyve got some tripped out video going. This should give you some idea of the visual onslaught that accompanies the amazing wall of sound that is their live show.

Don't hesitate to see these guys live, and pick up an album. I find it to be great driving music, but is just as at home at your next party. And theres a depth that you can explore at home that just isnt accessable at a live gig.

Theres a video with this over here.

dirtbags in yuppie-ville

I have to toot my own horn here a bit, as it seems that the Felice Brothers show was off the radar for most folks in the area. Had I know I would have posted to let the reader know.

Samantha Crain & The Midnight Shivers opened up for the boys from New York. A couple of things struck me about the ensemble. First, Samantha Crain sounds uncannily like one Leslie Feist, the Canadian songstress of Broken Social Scene fame. On a couple of tracks, you could have sworn it was Feist singing, just with a bit more of an upbeat and more pronounce backing band. However, Crain set herself apart with more up tempo tracks and less melancholy in the music. All things said, it was rather enjoyable. However, it was tough for me to shake that eerie similarity and that kind of overshadowed the set. Also, the Midnight Shivers looked like brothers, with their indie kid mullets and western shirts. I can't fault them too much for that.

If your not in the know, the Felice Brothers play a unique flavor of folk music twinged with rock and blues. Its the northern version of bluegrass, but swap the banjo for an accordion. Its got a similar feel, but a different sound.

The crowd at the Birchmere would be generously described as such. I figured that they would have filled the place near capacity, but evidently my perception of their popularity was a bit off. However, my expectations on their performance were met and exceeded. They played the favorites like Frakie's Gun and Love Me Tenderly. They played some songs I was not familiar with off of their newer release, Yonder is the Clock, which were very nice.

The guys called themselves dirt-bags a couple of times, and it seems that the best music comes from the ridiculously well trained over achievers like Andrew Bird or Rufus Wainwright, or filthy, chain-smoking, hard drinking, dirt-bags. I enjoy both. The Felice Brothers waste not time or energy on appearances or perceptions and let their music win you over. From Ian's Dylan-esque warble and immaculate finger picking, to James' virtuoso accordion solos, and Greg Farley's washboard antics, you wont see many bands that have more fun than these dudes do.

They also happen to fall into that lovely category of artists whose albums can't touch the performances. Of course they sound good, but the energy, the smoke, the cursing, and especially the way that songs evolve with the evening. I think the fellas knew that they were among friends and had some fun with their music, which is as it should be.

Some Final thoughts: I was quite happy that they wasted little time in getting to my favorite, Whiskey in My Whiskey. If you know me, this should come as little surprise. If you don't know me, this song speaks my language. I also thought that the Birchmere was a good, if an odd venue. It rubbed me a bit wrong that the they have a mural outside showing 'The Great American Music Cities' that fails to note Detroit. Just because Detroit is, well, crap now, don't discount what it has contributed to music over the years. I think Motown is enough, not to mention the non-freaky MJ (that happened after he moved to LA) and the White Stripes, The MC5, Iggy and the Stooges, Bob Seger, and the Motor City Mad Man, Ted Nugent. Also, the waiter kept tapping me on the shoulder to settle my tab in the middle of the performance, which made me quite irate.

So, Sam Crain, really good, oddly like Feist. Felice Brothers were great, full of energy and whiskey, it seemed, but on point. The venue odd, but good, and a few minor improvements would make it grand, though it is a bit off the beaten track.

also, ive started posting stuff over on the examiner. i plan to post most reviews and such here, but over there youll get the same and some random videos and shorter posts.

pisstopher

i recently came across Benjy Ferree. this shit is outrageous and excellent. he just came out with a new album called 'come back to the five and dime bobby dee bobby dee.' outrageous. oh, and the single of now is called 'christopher pisstopher.' i may have been more on this, except he played the Black Cat on Saturday when i was at the 930 crushing on young Tennesseeans. especially since he claims to be from PG county.

anyhow, i cant really dscribe his style, other than to say it starts with rock and goes from there. it goes to wild and interesting places. i would like to see these places. they seem to have guitars and a piano and interesting rhythms and some cool pedals for that guitar. i would like to witness this music in person. very much.

at this point i would post some content, but i am not one of those cool bloggers who has the rep and rapport with artists, so just click this link and play some tune on his myspace. maybe one day...

loud was the night

ok, so i was kind of lazy yesterday and never wrote this, but here goes.

Saturday night, the final evening of February, Dan Auerbach, Hacienda, and Those Darlins played down the street at the 930 club. i was wondering if he could possibly bring as much to the stage as he did in the fall as one half of the Black Keys. the answer is yes. but that comes later in this little ditty.

first of was Those Darlins. i had intentionally not looked into them before the show. i am familiar with Dan and Hacienda, so i wanted a surprise. that they were. when three girls came out on stage with strings slung round their necks, i admit i was very skeptical. ive seen the act before where a couple girls learn some basic chords and try to ride cute to success. i mean that candy apple hollow body was bigger than the body of the girl holding it. she quickly proved that she had the licks to play it. i was impressed. not surprising for Dan, he picked a lofi, solid band who is better live than the couple recordings i was able to dig up yesterday. at any rate they bring the best of Cash, Carter, Haggard, Kristopherson country and mix it with the best of Ramones, MC5, Black Lips gritty rock. and mix in the fact that they are most assuredly chicks with licks. they rock the fuck out and look damn good doing it. so yea, i dont mind pretty girls playing music, so long as they can play. and in that case, i not only am ok with it, i all out endorse it. go check these ladies out at SXSW or on their tour with Dan on the way.

now with the crowd sufficiently riled up, Hacienda made their entrance. ill spare you the comparisons that wont do them justice, and just say that they play a laid back style of rock. it will get your toes tapping at the very least. these guys from Texas can play and make me not hate Texas. as much. i just dont know what to say. polished but soulful. real, raw, and fully finished. check out some videos. dig the base line in 'she's got a hold on me.'

so by the time the two kick ass starter courses are through, ive got just the right amount of whiskey coursing though me. then, Dan comes out with Hacienda playing behind him. what could be better? i mean, if youre not familiar, then shame on you. i mean, in the Black Keys he has amassed a rather large following. their simple blues rock is killer. and Dan by himself is just as killer. the difference is that the blues rock is the jumping off point. 'i want some more' is just dirty and soulful and sweet. i want the kind of girl who falls for a song like this. falls hard. 'heartbroken in disrepair' has tones of psychedelia. you can feel a little Jimmy in there. at any rate, like the others who warmed up the stage, he for outplays his recordings in person. you cant waste money on seeing this cat live. plus, hes got a rad beard.

so between the whiskey, good company, and tunes that cant be beat, it was a great night. the only problem is that i got separated from a couple of my cohorts. normally, not a big deal, were all capable of taking care of ourselves. but they ran into the ladies that had stolen my marinated heart earlier in the evening. i was pissed when i got that text. i mean, im still kinda crushing on this girl. c'mon, just look at her.

i woke up last night with this song in my head

i wake up at 4am or so and stumble to the bathroom. i stumble back to be and lay down then realize im humming this song. its odd, but its a good song. what really made me stop is that i havent heard this song in years and years, and there it is. i remember the whole song. not all the words, but the beginning and end and the tune in between. and, dear subconcious, what conjured up this song from the depths of my memory. but props to mom and dad for listening to this along side the Cream and Bill Monroe and Neil Young.

Mills Bros - Paper Doll

creepy memory

im a rememberer of people. other things too, but theres no awkward conversations or any of that with a coffee shop, bar, forest, or beach. they tend to be equally welcoming to all.

at any rate, memory has its purpose in the grand scheme of things. you know where to find food and water and not to touch a hot stove. you know where to find the people, things, and places that are of comfort. but there are some things i would rather forget. and it seems that many other people do. and i will, in all likelihood, forget your name when i first meet you. but if you make any kind of impression on me, i will remember your face forever it seems.

so what to do then? when i see a random acquaintance do i talk to them? i feel like i would come off as some sort of idiot savant. 'we meet two years ago a a bonfire in the summer and talked about canadian bacon and how its just ham and that actual bacon is far superior, but for the life of me i cant recall your name.' or not acknowledge them, and if they remember, you could come off like some arrogant jerk. this is where social anxiety comes from, i think. well, its one source. and my primary source. however, since i love awkward situations its not really that bad, only a little creepy to some.

anyway, this whole remembering things also seems to make it a bit difficult to let the past be. it seems i am always dredging things up in my mind. theres second gussing. theres wondering 'will it ever be that good again?' hoping that something like that never happens again. replaying the car crash, the pain, the joy, the love, the loss of yesterday, last week, last year, a decade ago. its this memory that gets annoying sometimes. why do these names and places and things come back years later? far past their useful shelf life. surely i could use that space to recall things of greater import to my life now.

oh well, perhaps one day the meaning of all this will reveal itself. mayhaps not. at any rate, i have enough to wory about, and id rather not creep people out or feel awkward about ignoring them.