CHICAGO
LIVE REPORT
I didn't
go to see Zbigniew Karkowski at Chicago's 6ODUM venue
a couple months ago, but I did find a review of the show
on the brutalsfx message board interesting. The author was
one Sepulveda Disaster, and it went like this:
'in 3 words, loud digital
noise. i went looking to get my sternum shaken by quad bass--the
volume of which courtesy dictates one doesn't play in their
own dwelling on their stereo--and I got it, for the most
part. but 45 min. of more or less "expected" stuff--"dramatic"
gaps of silence, bursts jumping around the room and off
the walls, high pitch whistles to test the mettle of those
in the room--just wasn't that riveting; the range of sound
was kinda static. apparently he only wanted to play for
20 min but the presenting org. was like "these kids paid
$10, go give'em an hour." hm.'
Hm, indeed. Maybe
that's why the piece Alan Licht played at ODUM seemed to
go on and on and on...as did a piece by Mirror I saw at
ODUM a few months before that. Maybe the presenting org.
was the same for all three, and in each case said "These
kids paid $10, go give 'em an hour." I realize this
is Chicago, where $10 seems more and more to be the required
cover charge, but how about, instead of dictating an overlong
set, getting an opening act? How about two or three opening
acts? That might actually be a show worth $10. Maybe Karkowski
didn't tell them he was only going to play 20 minutes. If
not, he should've, but promoters should always have opening
acts, just in case someone on the bill only wants to play
20 minutes. Single-artist bills are for museums and Las
Vegas. Set length should always be negotiated when a band
plays at a club; if the artist doesn't volunteer it to the
promoter, then the promoter should ask.
A post on the
same message board about Karkowski's set in Detroit the
next night said that he only played 20 minutes and it was
perfect. (I bet the show was cheaper too...but it's already
Detroit vs. Chicago.) In other words, Karkowski only plays
20 minutes for a reason. His "loud digital noise"
is a strong flavor; as with hot salsa or hard liquor, one
doesn't need a large quantity of it in order to get a taste.
In cooking it's called "seasoning," in live music
it's called "show business."
I
saw Royal Trux play in Lawrence, Kansas two or three years
ago on their Accelerator tour. I was way into the
album, but there was something odd about the show. I got
the feeling that the Trux knew people were going to be showing
up to hear those bombastic wall-of-overdubs Accelerator
arrangements, and they really don't seem to be into
fulfilling expectations at all, so they basically just did
power trio boogie-rock versions of the songs instead. It
ended up being pretty good, but still quite odd, and it
didn't give me any idea what to expect from Neil Michael
Hagerty solo at the Abbey Pub last March. Well, the
strategy was the same, as the band was again a hard-rock
power trio -- but this time, what a power trio! Tim Barnes
was on drums and that's a guy who could make any power trio
sound good, and none other than Dan Brown ("the Jaco
Pastorious of Drag City") was on bass.
As for Hagerty,
he wore a fringe jacket and played some of the most unbelievable
extended heavy molten harmolodic acid-blues guitar I've
heard in my life. (I'm not exaggerating.) Each song seemed
to be just a few lyrics and at most four chords, one excuse
after another for a six-minute guitar solo, and the crazy
thing was the excuse worked every single time. (The most
obvious and most entertaining excuse is the song "Gratitude,"
with the lyrics "thanks a lot...thanks a lot....thanks
a lot....thanks a whole whole lot...for everything you've
got...thanks a lot....oh thanks a lot....thanks a lot..."
and so on. A non-hipster girl with a nice booty was dancing
to this song about ten feet in front of me so that improved
its entertainment rating quite a bit. Her and her friends
didn't seem to have any idea who the incredible burnout
guitar player in the fringe jacket was, but they were having
a good time anyway.)
No really, how can
I do justice to this guitar-solo thing....people, he literally
did not play one bad note. I think the only musicians I've
seen come close in the last 15 years are the guy from Mainliner
and Eddie Van Halen, and Hagerty's rhythm section was just
as good as both of those.
Opening act Suntanama
was...interesting. Newly signed to Drag City, they feature
a couple members of the No Neck Blues Band, and if you were
wondering where the "blues" in No Neck was, I
think it's mostly in Suntanama (along with plenty of peach-eatin'
boogie and growling southern rock vocals). Steve Krakow
said they sounded like Black Oak Arkansas, and he was right...I
knew they were gonna sound a little like Black Oak, but
they ended up getting a lot closer than anyone would have
imagined. This is almost literally the most unhip music
that any indie-connected person could be playing right now,
and I love how Drag City is right there for it. They're
still my favorite Chicago label.
The
Bardo Pond/Fursaxa tour came to the Bottle in early
March. Nowadays, with so many rockers droning and so many
droners rocking (not to even mention the worst of all, roners
drocking) it was refreshing to see Ms. Fursaxa come out
and just stand at a cheap organ all by herself and play
scary operatic church music. I mean, it just came from somewhere
else completely. You could compare it to Nico and her harmonium,
but Tara Burke's voice is so different -- higher pitched,
with a strange operatic trill.
The Empty Bottle was, is,
and always will be a rock club at heart, and some of the
more eldritch aspects of her set suffered a bit in a rock
club. Like, at the beginning of the set she had this ominous
loop going and walked around the stage shaking this weird
giant home-made rattle/stick/
thing. In retrospect, it was kinda cool, because she was
like marking territory, christening the stage as a temporary
chapel for the devotional songs that were to come (G.G.
Allin used to do it by taking a shit). Thing was, while
she was shaking the rattle the crowd was jabbering away
and I don't think everyone there had even realized the set
had started.
The guy from Bardo Pond
came out and played with her on a couple songs, but I didn't
know he was from Bardo Pond because I didn't really know
what they all looked like yet. He was rocking that Philly
shlep, with the baggy jeans and some untucked T-shirt and
long shlep hair 'n' glasses. He reminded me of my Dad's
birdwatching colleagues. All of Bardo's kinda got the Philly
schlep goin', even Isobel. Despite being one of the more
beautiful women I've ever seen on a rock stage, she's all
casual with her blue jeans and her hippie hair-twirl. The
bass player's got your basic indie-rock look going, with
tight pocket T's and non-denim work pants. That other guitar
player with the long hair -- he's alright, he looks like
a rocker, and they do rock. The drummer's like a cool nerd
type, with glasses and I don't know, maybe some more birdwatcher
vibes. He's a pretty soulful musician. Actually, the band
sounded great. I rarely see a band and think 'they got this
way by playing together for years and years,' but I really
felt that with Bardo (even though the drummer isn't the
original one). Basically, they know how to set their guitars
and amps and play them together so that the sound will be
huge, and that's what they do.
For
a report on how New York's LIARS can tear shit up
on stage, go to the previous page's
account of their recent show in Lincoln, Nebraska. I saw
'em tear shit up at the Empty Bottle, opening up a sold
out show for And You Will Know Us By The Trail of the
Dead. Maybe it was because of the way the Liars distinctly
scorched the atmosphere in the room for the rest of the
night, but the highly acclaimed Trail of Dead sounded quite
a bit like Bryan Adams to me, except the pop/rock chords
are disguised by Daydream Nation arpeggios, and
the bar-band shuffle rhythms have been replaced with Fugazi
locksteps. They add one, or at most two, strategically placed
'noise breakdowns' in there, but no more than that in fear
of alienating all the people in the audience who grew up
listening to Richard Marx. I'd say they're gettin' by strictly
on a cool memorable name, even as they don't live up to
it. One wag backstage pegged 'em pretty well: "Disguised
emo."
Like
LIARS but for completely different reasons, Chicago's Strawberry
is one of the best live bands in rock today. I've been complaining
a lot about how expensive your basic indie/underground shows
are in Chicago...$6 shows are $8, and $8 shows are $10 or
even $12...but Strawberry is a band that actually puts on
a $15 show. They care so much about perfection, they don't
even sing live, they lip-sync to perfect pre-recorded tracks.
They play like twice a year, and they never play at hipster
underground rock clubs like the Bottle and the Fireside,
they play at teenybopper rock clubs like the Double Door
and the Metro, where I saw 'em last week. (April 26th.)
That way they can have two-hour soundchecks, a backstage
lounge for costume changing, and their name printed on tickets.
I have it on good authority that the singer spent six hours
the day of the show getting his hair done so that it would
look as much as possible like Cyberpunk-era Billy
Idol or grunge-era Vanilla Ice. That alone made the show
totally worthwhile, not to mention his ability to pirouette
with a guitar synthesizer, and his trademark song introduction,
with a vaguely British accent: "This one's on the album."
After the third or fourth song, he said "Actually this
next one's not on the album," and someone behind me
shouted out "What album?" Exactly, dude! There is actually
a Strawberry album, but you're starting to get the joke!
In fact, when you're talking about the whole "this-is-not-a-fucking-joke"
school of modern-day comedy rock, these guys are right up
there with Andrew W.K.
The Laundryroom
Squelchers just rolled into town last week or so, playing
a rather slow Monday night at the Bottle. Xela Said and
Plutonium Pie were in the entourage and played on the bill,
but I unfortunately missed them. I did make it in time to
see the Squelchers. Their set lasted all of five minutes
or so, and it was kinda wild, if not nearly as "total"
of a "fucking destruction" as Weasel Walter would
tell you it was. WW was in the ensemble for the piece, in
which a few guys and gals freaked out on guitars and fell
down accidentally on purpose. Rat Bastard's opening solo
guitar salvo was absolutely Orcutt-riffic, and the ensemble
playing was thick, but it felt a little truncated, like
something was missing. The atmosphere just wasn't quite
right. I did get a CD-R they were selling, documenting each
5-minute set they played on their Phi-Phenomena on Wheels
Tour last September, and it packs a wallop. One track particularly
moved me, with some soul-scouring screaming coming from
one of the ladies in the group. I got up to check when and
where that performance went down, and it was Chicago....on
the night of September 11th.
No Doctors
played after the Squelchers, and I think my jaw is still
scraping the ground a little bit when I walk around. I already
thought the Doctors were getting better with every show
(despite their proclivity for playing overlong sets), and
sure enough, I've never seen 'em better than this night.
They played a beautifully concise 35 or so minutes, and
somehow gave the illusion that everyone in the band was
playing intense free-for-all one-note solos on their instruments
all night long. They're good at creating illusions, though,
for they were indeed playing songs -- I actually recognized
a few of them, but the closing 15-minute-or-so leveller
seemed to be some totally new shit. They also had a trumpeteer
in the ranks who added a lot, and once again the devastating
guitar skills of Elvis DeMorrow must not go un-noted. These
guys are playing a Battle of the Bands in Evanston, IL,
at Nevin's Pub...I believe on May 15th. If you read this
in time, go watch them square off against a bunch of yuppie
jam bands.
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