Mapping out a universe of spongy synth leads and canned beats, Texas tinkerer Alan Palomo has managed an offbeat triumph in Psychic Chasms, the debut of Neon Indian, his one-man project. The album, which features such casually sung gems as "Terminally Chill" and "Ephemeral Artery," was recently released by the rising Sacramento label Lefse. But beyond the jokey song titles and ticklish retro groove is a mind-altering listen.
Neon Indian captures the heightened reality and inner turmoil of adolescence while also tapping into Ariel Pink and My Bloody Valentine. "Deadbeat Summer" is a yawning slice of the wasting season it explores, whereas "Mind, Drip" crawls to a pulsing glow and "Laughing Gas" reveals Palomo's knack for shimmering dance music. He notes the influence of synth-heavy film scores from the late '70s and early '80s. Indeed, there's something wonderfully kitschy and dated about the sounds he employs, recalling Paul McCartney's "Wonderful Christmastime" as much as Phil Collins' early solo work.
Neon Indian performs tonight at Rickshaw Stop (8 p.m., $10-$12). Read more about the music here.
Oakland native Raphael Saadiq first came to national prominence with his '80s R&B group Tony! Toni! Toné! He found subsequent success as a Grammy-winning solo artist and producer of R&B hits, including D'Angelo's flesh-baring "(Untitled) How Does It Feel." Though he has always been considered an old soul in a fresh body with his unique, nimble vocal tone, Saadiq's most recent album, The Way I See It, draws a heavy influence from such Motown greats as the Temptations, Gladys Knight, and Stevie Wonder, who even plays harmonica for "Never Give You Up." Saadiq plays The Fox Theater in Oakland tonight (7:30 p.m., $39.50).
Long the Strokes' slurred voice of sleazy cool, Julian Casablancas has become the latest member of that band to indulge in a side project. In his case, it's an eight-song solo album, Phrazes for the Young. Swimming in retro synths and elastic guitar lines, it's a clear love letter to his '80s upbringing. Lead single "11th Dimension" pursues a jittering, summery slickness, while "River of Brakelights" crisscrosses biting melodies with overcaffeinated percussion. His vague lyrics exude dreamy imagery, and while it's not a fourth Strokes album -- that's due sometime next year -- it's damn fun. (8 p.m., $30-$33, Regency Ballroom)
One of my favorite KUSF DJs, Irwin Swirnoff (Friday morning's "Sleeves on Hearts" show) has directed a video for one of my favorite Wooden Shjips songs, "Motorbike." The look is hazy, vintage San Francisco, with cool, washed out colors and shots of motorcycle rides around the city.
Check out more in this Insane Clown Posse @ The Warfield slideshow!
It's tough to top an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical about a boy's toy train that comes to life. But this is the feat that the Insane Clown Posse managed to achieve with its carnival-esque (literally) performance at the Warfield on a brisk Friday the 13th. Thirty minutes before the horror/humor rap duo of Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope took the stage, a packed crowd of rabid fans hungry for clown ambulated. One vertically challenged clown woman tapped the shoulder of a reporter in the midst of a warm-up beat box and asked him to move out of the way so she could have a better view of the empty stage where VJ and S2D would soon spill verbal blood and unleash their duel-headed beat murder. Before the lights went down, chants of "ICP, ICP, ICP" rang out at deafening volume, the dookie braids of male fans, aka Juggalos, bouncing in rhythm to the hungry chorus.
Richard Haick Photography
Finally, a man clad in a top hat and suit in the manner of a carnival barker stepped to the center of the stage, which had been transformed into a carnival sideshow mock up. Pumping the crowd, he introduced two furry-suited humanoids positioned in cages flanking both sides of the stage as 'Many Faces' and 'Ape Boy.' Thankfully, no one from the San Francisco chapter of PETA was at the show to protest the exploitation of a caged man dressed as an ape. Shortly thereafter, the heavy beats and metal melodies that comprise the ICP sound uncorked over the crisp PA as an array of disorienting, blinding, flashing lights fired off, a spectacle that in another context might have called for anti-seizure medication.
Richard Haick Photography
When VJ and S2D finally skipped onstage, the roar of the crowd would have overpowered any London theater audience's cheers for Rusty and Greaseball during a Starlight Express curtain call. Within moments of uncorking their horrorcore rhymes--that riff on the Halo-weaned generation's normative topics of cannibalism, dismemberment, respectfully making love to women, and peacefully resolving disputes that have the potential to turn violent--VJ and S2D demonstrated they're not just at the forefront of their genre, they're showmen and dancers with terpsichorean skills galore.
Lisbon-based Buraka Som Sistema headlines Mezzanine Saturday night, bringing its mashup of vocal percussion with zombified, broken-legged dance contortions. The foursome who leapt into global view with 2008's Black Diamond is now making its second SF visit. The group will batter crowds with dissonant siren-thumps and crawling Portuguese slang, fitting within the same seismic frame as sometime-collaborator M.I.A. and African soukous giant Koffi Olomide.
Buraka are today's leading practitioners of Kuduro--Angolan beat patterns peculiarly named after a scene in Kickboxer when Jean-Claude Van Damme tries to dance drunk! We don't have to explain Kuduro to you, just watch this video.
As the band readied for a tour stop in L.A., All Shook Down chatted with BSS's Rui Pité aka RIOTDJ:
You just got back from Mexico! What was that like?
Mexico was awesome. There was a lot of people there waiting for us....and a lot of people knew the lyrics. Buraka is funny because people don't really listen to the lyrics; Portuguese isn't well understood around the world so it's just about dance-your-ass-off.
You're in a rare group of artists that addresses your music to favela culture, slum culture, and yet tours internationally playing for affluent kids. How do you manage that divide?
I don't have a secret for you regarding the perfect performance to please everyone. We kind of live in the middle of them. We don't live in slums but we live pretty much near them. It's like Baile funk. You don't have to live in favelas to know Baile funk, but you can get close to it by listening and you pick up the community that way.
For us it's the Kuduro rhythm. There's a lot of Angolans living in Portugal so we just picked up Kuduro rhythm and do our own thing. There's a couple of [similar groups] around the world doing our thing: Sri Lanka, Brazil, even in Baltimore you can hear people doing these things. It's just music, man. Either you like it or you don't.
The idea of mournful lyrics buoyed by joyous music is an old one, going back in time to when Oog beat frantically on a rock while yelling about his pet mastodon running away. Folks tend to point to the Beach Boys as the modern masters of this style, but that outlook neglects such earlier iconic acts as Dion and Del Shannon. Unlike the Drums' '60s-obsessed peers, the Brooklyn foursome takes inspiration from these and other '50s artists, choosing falsetto backing vocals, giddy handclaps, and echoey rumble over multilayered jingle-jangle.
The Drums' debut EP, Summertime!, captures the same tart/sweet dichotomy of classics like "Runaround Sue," offering angry lyrics like "Summer's just beginning, baby/I might learn to hate you, lady/One minute you're acting crazy/ I might have to hate you, baby" (from "Saddest Summer Ever") over euphoric backing tracks. Plus, singer Jonathan Pierce's whooping pout of a voice makes anything -- even words like "horseshit" -- sound romantically charged. While British music rags are prone to exaggeration, it's hard not to agree with NME's assertion that this "might be the most contagiously energetic NYC band of the past 10 years."
The Drums perform at Popscene tonight alongside Annie (DJ set), 10 p.m., $10-$12,
Bernal Heights singer/songwriter Eric Maskol bills his music as echoey acoustic rock with an apocalyptic swing. Playing around the city for years, Maskol has remained largely unknown, scoring music for independent films and making home recorded EPs.
This past July, he released his first full-length studio album, The Year Before the War. Drawing the best aspects of the Beatles, The Pixies, David Bowie, and Leonard Cohen, Maskol's songs offer well-crafted pop hooks and witty lyricisms that one can't help but sing along to. Maskol sat down with Local Frequency (All Shook Down's new local musician profile series) prior to his set at the Beale Street Bar & Grill to chat about his sound, embarrassing songs, and where he likes to drink.
If your sound was a neighborhood in the city, what would it be and why?
I'd say Bernal Heights. I live there, and it's like a small town with the same San Francisco-ness but there are also aspects of the big city as well. It's like this little section of wilderness amongst the city.
Last thing you've read? The Moon and Sixpenceby William Somerset Maugham, it's about the life of the painter Paul Gauguin
Favorite venue in the city?
I have so many, my favorites are the ones I haven't played in yet -- Great American Music Hall and the Fillmore. Great American Music Hall has this intimate feeling and history that I love. The Bottom of the Hill is also my favorite, which I've played.
Tom Van Buskirk and George Langford are big on recycling. As Javelin, the Rhode Island cousins make jumpy electronic pop that mines old sounds for new ones. Limited to 500 copies, their debut 12-inch on Thrill Jockey features unique art screen-printed by hand onto used sleeves. And when playing live, the guys stack painted boom boxes into teetering towers. If all of this sounds as much like art as music, Javelin has indeed played at New York's Museum of Modern Art. But there's nothing pretentious about the songs themselves, which revere gooey analog synths and choppy percussion. "Lindsey Brohan" is a sublime slice of junkyard rediscovery, while "Soda Popinski" builds a rap-damaged thumper from the theme music of its title character, a boozing boxer first seen in an '80s Nintendo cartridge. Ticklish and eye-opening, Javelin has another 12-inch planned before issuing a debut album on David Byrne's Luaka Bop label.
Sharing the stage with Javelin is Lucky Dragons, a long-running yet underrated L.A. act built on twitchy experimentation. Live and on record, its music is a fascinating jolt of beauty and intrigue. When it comes to this sort of improv-based voyaging, last year's Dream Island Laughing Language should be held up as the gold standard.
Honey and DJ Neil Martinson open when Javelin and Lucky Dragons perform tonight at the Knockout. (9 p.m., $8)
Fans of beloved morning DJs Fernando and Greg took a hit when the station that housed their show, Energy 92.7, went off the air earlier this fall. The pair are so popular, though, they've already found a new home. The DJs announced through their Facebook page that they've been hired by Movin 99.7 and will be back on the air this Thursday, Nov. 12.
On Sunday, The Juan MacLean's drummer, Gerhardt "Jerry" Fuchs, died in a pretty terrible accident. According to the NY Daily News, Fuchs was heading to a party in Williamsburg when the freight elevator he was taking got stuck between floors. After being trapped for 20 minutes, the paper reports, Fuchs and another partygoer tried to escape when the party organizer pulled open the elevator doors. The dummer's hoodie apparently got caught as he was leaving, and he fell 50 feet to his death.
Late yesterday the Juan MacLean issued a statement expressing great sadness for the loss of their friend (who also drummed for !!!, Maserati, LCD Soundsystem, Turing Machine, and other bands). The group also announced that it will not be performing on its upcoming tour (which hits San Francisco at Mezzanine Nov. 20) as a full band. Instead, bandleader John MacLean will be DJing a "tribute DJ set to commemorate and honor the memory of his friend and bandmate."
Photographer Richard Haick went down to San Jose State to capture a performance by Rob Zombie, the hard rock- and horror movie-cult legend whose fans are nearly as colorful as his stage shows.
It's a testament to San Francisco's good taste that DJs Pickpocket and AC's Donuts club night has thrived against the mindless wave of Lady Gaga-ish '80s-glam attitude that has recently broken over the local club scene. Now Donuts celebrates three years of presenting obscure '60s to '80s DJ dance beats; innovative live music; and visual art and fashion with a lineup of the West Coast's shiniest live electronic artists. S.F.'s analog kosmische master, Jonas Reinhardt, and easy-pop duo Windsurf join Portland-based motorik Afrotech heads Miracles Club in what will prove to be an artfully sweaty night indeed. Get your Donuts dunked starting at 9:30 p.m. at the Knockout, $6.
Andy Caldwell is a skilled pianist and trumpeter, but his classical training takes a back seat to his rep in the clubs. The Om Records staple and Uno Recordings owner has spent the past decade and a half touring the world (hitting all the big dance meccas: Ibiza, Berlin, Australia) with his turntables and recording tastemaking mixes. His latest album, Obsession is a departure from the San Francisco house scene he's synonymous with; here he collaborates on electro bangers with Mr. V, Storm Lee, Femke, Mr. J. Madeiros, and more. It's fitting that he's sonically departed the Bay Area, as he also moved down to Los Angeles, looking for better weather and a change of creative scene.
Caldwell is back in town on Saturday, Nov. 14, with a show at Vessel and, most likely, a stop at his favorite bakery.
Name: Andy Caldwell
Style(s) of music you spin: house, house, HOUSE!
So what's your story, in 100 words or less? Just a kid who fell in love with house music, dedicated my life to it, and never looked back.
When and why did you leave San Francisco? I moved to LA not too long ago because I was feeling creatively stagnant and was looking for a place with warmer weather. Also many of my closest friends live here so I had a nice social network already. I like visiting SF though! I spent 12 years there.
What do you miss most about living here? One word... Tartine.
In terms of cringeworthy musical clichés, stating that "the blues" is a state of mind ranks near the top of the list. Thankfully, Queens-based duo Blues Control gets into the best kind of headspace possible: that of a total mindfuck. The band crafts woozy, inscrutable, seemingly endless instrumentals on one guitar and a keyboard (and sometimes an old drum machine), making music that always seems to be unraveling, at once hypnotizing and confounding. Built up from tape loops or primitive electronics, the guitar oozes and flares, never quite settling into a pattern, while the piano seems to be everywhere at once, underpinning the proceedings while also taking them further out.
The band's third album, Local Flavor, is its most coherent yet, at least in terms of the duo's aesthetic sensibilities. "Good Morning" opens things up with a frantic lo-fi drum machine before moving into a fuzzy guitar outburst. The deft piano accompaniment expands upon the melody. A touch of layered brass caps off this lo-fi boogie-glam hybrid. Ambient loops and murky melodic excursions waft in and out of focus throughout Local Flavor, culminating in the mesmeric 17-minute smog of church organ and fried guitar on "On Through the Night."
Read the full Blues Control profile here, and check out the band live at the Hemlock (9 p.m., $7)
After rising from the blackened ashes of Skin Graft noiseniks Arab on Radar, The Chinese Stars initially seemed set on continuing their previous band's discomfiting mission: to simultaneously convert and confuse listeners with squirmy guitars, surreal lyrics issued via grating nasal whines, and lobotomized drum beats that anchored the insanity to a tangible rhythmic base. But recently they've mixed in vintage synthesizers à la Six Finger Satellite, resulting in an off-color blend of dance punk, dissonant rock, synth pop, and sheer weirdness. The Chinese Stars are now probably too dancey for No Wave distortion addicts, too frisky and atonal for neo-disco hipsters, and way too W.T.F. for any random passerby who might stumble into the club. They may no longer be a noise band, but it's possible the Chinese Stars have finally achieved Noise Band Nirvana -- by alienating absolutely everyone. At last, success! (8 p.m., $8, Thee Parkside)
The Mission's 13-year-old community radio station, Pirate Cat Radio, claims it has been issued a "proposed" $10,000 fine by the FCC. The station responded by issuing a press release on Halloween alerting fans to the possible FCC action, and has gone silent at its terrestrial home of 87.9 FM. DJs are still broadcasting the station's eclectic mix of music, news, and community bulletins from its 21st St. headquarters onto the Internet, keeping its Web presence active.
DJs spent Monday giving listeners repeated calls to action, making pleas for financial support. A station intern named Heidi asked fans to come to the cafe and grab a "maple bacon latte," to purchase Pirate Cat T-shirts and compilation CDs, and to stay tuned for upcoming benefit shows to help raise funds for the DIY station.
Pirate Cat founder Monkey issued a statement Saturday listing the reasons he feels his station is vital to San Francisco, including the fact that its been recognized by the Board of Supervisors, and that it regularly broadcasts news bulletins from Al Jazeera and BBC. Monkey added that his DJs "take an active approach to involving the community, by bringing local unsung heroes and talents into the studio."
We'll have more information on this issue as it develops.
San Francisco psych-popsters Sleepy Sun get extra cosmic on their new video, "New Age," a red- and droopy-eyed ballad that opens up into some seriously stony guitar solos. We would expect nothing less from a band that got its original musical and spiritual guidance down in Santa Cruz.
I quote the woman filming this little kid when I ask, "What the hell?" This half-naked tot (hitting the kitchen table to GS Boyz' "Stanky Leg") is a better dancer than most folks you see out at the clubs.
Since taking up the sitar in the late 1930s, Indian musician Ravi Shankar has released more than 40 albums, composed for film director Satyajit Ray, collaborated with Ali Akbar Khan and Philip Glass, and taught George Harrison everything he knew about the complicated instrument. His private life has been no less adventurous, as he fathered children by several wives and mistresses, giving the world the soft-pop singer-songwriter Norah Jones and sitar player Anoushka Shankar. The latter has brought Indian music to a new audience by collaborating with electronica producers Thievery Corporation and Karsh Kale, as well as performing with her father on numerous occasions, including the 2002 memorial for Harrison, The Concert for George.
Tonight's show features performances by Ravi and Anoushka, separately and together. Fans should snap up tickets, as this may be one of the last chances to see the 89-year-old master perform his transcendental music in a local setting. (Davies Symphony Hall, $30-$90).
In case you missed Pitchfork's lead story this morning, there's a new cut for the Girls' "Lust for Life" video. The revision involves far less clothing, as its new title, "'Lust for Life' Hardcore XXX Edit" (clip grabbed from MBV), would suggest.
Here penises double as microphones (thanks to Hunx and His Punx), naked girls double as band members, and live footage of the band performing is spliced into the more intimate shots.
Girls are turning out to be the San Francisco buzz band that keeps the buzz heading far behind the music, whether it's stories of the band member's cult past and present drug use, or new ways to show fans that they're the boys to party with. (When Girls won this year's SF Weekly Music Award for best indie rock/pop act, they sent a gaggle of hot ladies on stage to accept their award for them since they were on tour).
It's good to see a genuinely talented act be so playful with their image while still writing the sorta stylish dream pop that makes critics blissfully happy. In lesser hands, a XXX video would be painfully cheeseball. But here, our only warning is NSFW.
Over on our sister/news blog, The Snitch, Peter Jamison reports on yesterday's hearing for the Entertainment Commission, San Francisco's nightclub-industry watchdog agency.
"Following a three-hour hearing that featured extensive public comment...the three-member committee unanimously approved the new law, which would grant the Entertainment Commission added powers to crack down on problematic nightclubs as well as establish stricter oversight measures for how the commission operates."
Read more about the E.C. and yesterday's meeting at the Snitch here.
"You can blame Al Gore for the dearth of quality punk rock in the jukeboxes of America:he had to go and invent the internet. What a bum! Even dives with great jukes are phasing out their custom mixes in favor of those hateful touch-screen Toxic Boxes. The solution? Ditch the juke and enlist deejays instead.
At the Hemlock's Punk Rock Sideshow, DJ Tragic and the Duchess of Hazard pluck gems from their deep collection of punk and hardcore records, guaranteeing that every few minutes you'll interrupt your conversation to say, "Hey, I love this song!" and then thump out the drumbeat on the bar railing. Its age-defying mix of old-school winners ranging from the Adolescents to Youth of Today -- not to mention the vintage skate videos projected on the walls -- makes Punk Rock Sideshow a rejeuvenating cocoon of Golden Age punk nuggets, with plenty of modern awesomeness & future classics from the '90s and '00s as well.
As if that weren't enough, is there anything more ridiculous than drinking a whisky while singing along with Minor Threat's sobriety anthem "Straight Edge"? And some people think trucker caps are the pinnacle of irony! Punk Rock Jukebox schools hipsters in the truth. For free. Every Monday night. It's better than that useless B.F.A. any day." -- J. Graham
Forget the Monsters of Folk. The real underground neo folk act to keep an ear on is Emerald Triangle. The group has a serious California soft rock pedigree: San Francisco's own Andy Cabic of Vetiver, together with Farmer Dave (Venice denizen who's played with tons of acts, most notably Beachwood Sparks), another So Cal cohort Jonathan Rice (who plays solo and with Jenny Lewis), and Jonathan Wilson (who plays with Black Crowes).
So far the fruits of their collaborations are a mystery, as the Emerald Triangle MySpace is heavier on pretty green coloring and information than it is on music. But these dudes are doing a California tour in November that hits the Independent on Monday the 2nd. The show is being backed/presented by Monterey tastemaking promoter (((folkYeah))), so we have high hopes here.
On a related note, anyone see that the new Devendra Banhart record (out on Warner Bros.) was the lead review in Rolling Stone this issue? Crazy. And they gave it four stars. Although they gave some old Stones box set five stars, so not sure what that says about the mag, but hey, awesome for Banhart.
Kowloon Walled City CD Release @ Annie's (Fri.) San Francisco sludgemasters Kowloon Walled City express sonic aggression with oppressive riffage. The rhythm section alone sounds massive enough to pave city streets, steamrolling by with elephantine thrusts of distorted bass and beats that drop like anvils. This heavy load is spiked by sharp outbursts of raging vocals, frontman Scott Evans channeling a weighty Am Rep angst in his hoarse yells. Occasionally the band breaks the onslaught for a bit of doomy melody, a dark calm before the storm rages once again. Tonight the band celebrates the release of its debut full length killer, Gambling on the Richter Scale, with a show at Annie's. (9:30 p.m., $7)
Art in Storefronts @ Central Market/Tenderloin (Fri.) The San Francisco Arts Commission hosts a night of art you can see from the street, as it kicks off its inaugural Art in Storefronts project. Between 5 p.m. and 7 p.m., venues in the 900 to 1100 block of Market will host murals, installations, sculptures, videos, neon, and more. (Free)
Budget Rock Fest @ Thee Parkside & Bottom of the Hill (Fri.-Sun.) Trash- and garage rock takes over Potrero Hill this weekend, when Budget Rock returns to our side of the Bay. The name of the fest is your first clue that these gigs won't cost much, but shows for the especially thrifty-conscious include The Mummies ($5 at Thee Parkside, 8 p.m. That same night they're also playing Bottom of the Hill -- making the mad dash down 17th St.); Box Elders play the fest for that same price and at Thee Parkside on Sunday (1 p.m.)
The pair were slipped onto Thursday's Rickshaw show on the DL and last minute. One imagines many dance fans will take full advantage of seeing these dudes support their Windy City peer in smaller confines than usual.
Local rapper/spoken word champ Rafael Casal is producing something scary for Halloween. His new LP, out at the end of this month, is called Monster, and the first video from this fresh collection of thinking man's hip-hop is for the title track. Here Casal and crew slink around unlocked cells, feast on books, and dance on balaconies. Check it out.
Though they hail from opposite ends of the American Empire -- rainy Seattle, Washington, and sunny San Juan, Puerto Rico, respectively -- The Spits and Davila 666 share a love of raucous punk rock'n'roll and the wild time it often inspires.
Last month Davila 666 took over Thee Parkside for a Wednesday blowout that was as packed and sweaty as any weekend rager: "Pure unadulturated fun of the sloppiest kind" is how SF Weekly music editor Jennifer Maerz rightly described it. "Each of the songs by these Spanish-singing garage punks explodes like a little stack of dynamite, lit by gang vocals, or high wolf howls, or a tempo that moves swiftly as a schoolyard fight."
Not ones to be easily outdone, The Spits are known for equally outrageous gigs (often featuring 99-cent-store costumes) that rip through snotty, Ramones-inspired slop-pop that has turned more than one venue's dancefloor into a swirling sea of bodies and beer.
Both bands are on a mini-tour together, so you get two chances to see them this week: tonight (all ages) and Thursday (21+) at Thee Parkside. -- John Graham
Weezer is playing a MySpace "secret show" in San Francisco on Wednesday night. The band will hit town to play the Regency with opening (and unfortunately named) act Natalie Portman's Shaved Head. They go on at 8:45, and Weezer will be up at 10 p.m.
We'd recommend checking out Weezer's MySpace page to get ticket details and such.
Good news for Tom Waits fans: the iconic Nor Cal singer and songwriter has embraced the old "give 'em a little free taste" marketing plan. He's offering an 8-song preview of his upcoming live album, Glitter and DoomLive, for the price of your email address.
If you like what you hear, the full album will be available (for money) Nov. 24. In order to get Waits loyalists to part with cash for the finished Glitter and DoomLive, next month's product will include a half hour bonus disc called "Tom Tales," which edits together banter from the Glitter tour into one continuous monologue/track.
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