Bobby Bare Jr with Carey Kotsionis; July 29, 2011; Kiki’s House of Righteous Music

It used to be that Bobby Bare Jr. didn’t want to play Madison or house concerts. Now it seems he’s anxious to do both. Not even four months after an appearance at the High Noon, his third visit in less than a year, he was playing the basement bringing with him the remarkable Carey Kotsionis. He’s done several of these house shows recently, playing unamplified in people’s living rooms across the country. I offered him the PA, but much like Will Johnson, he passed, preferring the freedom of not being plugged in. Actually, he had wanted to play the entire show in the backyard, but after I warned of mosquitoes and noise, he was convinced to at least start in the basement. However he couldn’t be coerced to play an encore unless everyone followed him upstairs and out the back door where he ended the night with “Come Visit Me in Music City.” One of my favorite songs of his, in it he claims “the cops all carry capos in case you want to change your key” as he extols the virtues of Nashville. Later people told me they were glad he hadn’t played the whole set out there since they got a night’s worth of mosquito bites during a five minute song.

Before the show I had asked him if he was entertaining requests, from his response I was pretty sure he wasn’t, but at least he asked what it was. Kotsionis claimed that if he wasn’t going to play “The Monk at the Disco” than she would, and she spent the next several minutes trying to figure out Bare’s tune. Turns out it is more complicated than either she or I thought, and it was apparent she was not going to be able to play my favorite song, at least not tonight. Luckily it seems Bare was just teasing me, and he wasn’t even through the first set when he announced after playing several songs from Young Criminal’s Starvation League, “Flat Chested Girl from Maynardville” and “I’ll Be Around,” that he was going to stick with that record and played the song. It is arguably his catchiest tune, and the fish out of water tale which deposits a holy man in a club where a tall bartender offering to sell him blow is the least of his problems was definitely a hit with the crowd.

Much like the night at the High Noon, Kotsionis came dangerously close to stealing the show. The spunky little girl in the dress and cowboy boots played a killer set all her own. When I was introducing her at the start of the second set, I confessed “Don’t tell Bobby, but Carey was the real reason I wanted to do this show.” From upstairs came an accusing voice, “I heard that….” Even though this year was the first time I had seen Kotsionis, it turns out I’d been hearing her for a long time since she’s the voice on many of Bare’s records. I’d always assumed it was Deanna Varagona since that was who I’d usually seen play with Bare live. Once I heard Kotsionis it was obvious how wrong that assumption was. She ended her set with the title track from her debut EP, “Magic Cowboy Boots,” a track that live she prefers to play a capella accompanied only by the stomping of her own boots. Impressive.

Bare returned to play a few more songs to end the night. One of these was “Cover of the Rolling Stone.” The Dr Hook hit may seem an odd choice for him, until you learn that the song’s author Shel Silverstein was a close friend of his father and that Silverstein offered the young Bare advice and opinions up until his death. Bare assembled an all star cast to cover his songs on a tribute CD and was also hosting a free concert in New York featuring many of the performers. It is probably surprising to people who only know Silverstein from his children’s books that he was a prolific songwriter and in addition to “Rolling Stone,” he wrote “A Boy Named Sue” for Johnny Cash. Bare talked more about this the next morning on the public radio show “Whad’Ya Know?” which he had been asked to appear on. When we met the host Michael Feldman before the show he said that he would have like to have come to the show but he didn’t know where it was. Which was too bad, because that might have finally convinced my mother that what I do is legitimate.




Bobby & Carey on Whad'Ya Know

Murder by Death; July 24, 2011; Wicker Park Fest, Chicago

When I was buying my ridiculously cheap Megabus ticket ($6.50) for this weekend, I looked at Sunday’s line-up to see if there was anyone worth sticking around for. Blitzen Trapper was playing, I like them, but then I remembered how terrible that last record was. On the other hand, Murder by Death might just be worth staying for. I’d seen them twice last year when HHT was on tour with them. And while I didn’t fall madly in love with them, I did find them entertaining if perhaps a little samey. After meeting them all the night before at a party, I was even keener to give them another chance.

Hands down, my favorite thing about them is Scott Brackett. Okkervil River lost one of their greatest assets when multi-instrumentalist Brackett left the band. Their loss is Murder by Death’s definite gain, and his backing vocals, keyboards, accordion and especially trumpet add so much that I can’t imagine them without him. My second favorite thing is cellist Sarah Balliet. The pixie-ish wife of lead singer Adam Turla spends each song as if in a trance, and I do love the cello in rock music. My third favorite thing is that many of their songs are about drinking, how can I not love a band like that? I admit to paying much more attention to them this time than the previous two, and I enjoyed it.

I’ll certainly see them again, especially if tour manager/sound guy/all around awesome dude James Dean (who does the same for Ha Ha Tonka) is with them. Wait, I think I need to re-write that list of things I like best.

Ha Ha Tonka; July 23, 2011; Wicker Park Fest, Chicago

I saw Ha Ha Tonka a lot last year, pretty much once or twice a month for most of the year. This year I will probably end up seeing them even more than the sixteen times I logged last year, but it hasn’t been nearly as well distributed. There was the flurry of activity at the beginning of the year, SXSW, where I saw them a ridiculous six times in four days, my awesome week on the road with them out west two weeks later and then dates in Madison and Iowa City just after that. Now here it was the end of July and I hadn’t seen them in three months. I know, it doesn’t sound like a tragedy, but trust me it is.

It was a sweltering day, the early rain had burned off into oppressive heat, but I still wouldn’t have minded getting there a little earlier than I did. I wiggled my way close to the stage, only to spend half their too short forty minute set praying for the sun to drop behind the top of the stage. It was hot on stage too, but I’ve never seen them turn in a lackluster performance not matter what the circumstances. In fact, that may be exactly what I love so much about them. They always play hard, whether they are playing to six people or 6,000. Bassist Luke Long dumped half a bottle of water over his head early on, it may have cooled him off, but it made him even hotter.

Today’s set was a reverse of what I had gotten used to earlier in the year. It kicked off with debut record classics “St Nick on the Fourth in a Fervor” and “Caney Mountain,” which usually show up as set closers, and ended with “Usual Suspects” from the new Death of Decade, their go-to set opener for the better part of a year. My absolute favorite song “Close Every Valve to Your Bleeding Heart,” a song so amazing I still get shivers every time I hear it, wasn’t part of the set, but that’s OK. I know I will hear it again sometime. Drummer Lennon Bone confessed that he had worried about that as they put together the set list, “what if Kiki’s here?” There weren’t any surprises, but that’s OK too. They won’t surprise me till they finally play “Surrounded” the unfairly forgotten gem from second songwriter Brett Anderson.

There aren’t many bands I could see play essentially the same songs and still enjoy it every single time. But I do enjoy it. It’s been worth every bus ticket, plane ticket and drive.

After the show when the merch was packed up (of course I jumped in to help) and the equipment loaded out, I was offered a pretty special opportunity. “Do you want to go see Chance in a play?” Lennon asked. I’ve met Lennon’s charming brother Chance several times, and knew he had a number of talents, but I didn’t know he was an actor. “Yes,” I replied immediately, “I really do.” We headed downtown to see The Last Act of Lilka Kaddison at the Looking Glass Theater. This was the first run of an intriguing play that had received its final rewrite the day before it opened. Chance played the lost love of the title character as a ghost and in a number of flashbacks, and he was remarkable. We found out later that David Schwimmer had been in the audience, but I was more impressed with the actor that I knew personally.










Chance Bone onstage after the show with one of his props

Jon Langford and Walter Salas-Humara; July 21, 2011; The Frequency

At first Welshman Jon Langford and New Yorker Walter Salas-Humara seem an odd pair, but on closer inspection it actually makes perfect sense. There are many parallels, Langford formed seminal punk band the Mekons in the UK over thirty years ago, while back here Salas-Humara started the Silos, a critically praised roots rock band. Members from both of these bands have come and gone, but both remain a constant presence. In fact, Salas-Humara is the only constant member of the Silos. Langford has released many of the records from his many bands on Bloodshot Records out of Chicago, a city which he has called home for two decades. The Silos released their 2007 record on the same label. But what may be the main factor that brought these men together is their artistic output not with a guitar but with a paintbrush.

Their techniques couldn’t be more different. Langford creates detailed paintings, populated with images of cowboys, skulls and revered musicians- Johnny Cash, Bob Dylan, John Cale, often styling an entire painting after one of his songs, painstakingly fitting the lyrics into the context of the artwork. Salas-Humara paints dogs, Walter’s Dogs he calls them appropriately enough. They are not painstaking, they aren’t even realistic- they have spaghetti legs, tongues hanging out, sometimes two heads- but they are adorable. He has recently expanded his art into other areas- T-shirts, handbags, and stuffed animals- and he even offers “portraits” of your dog. While it may have been the art that brought them together for that first show, it is their camaraderie that has kept them doing these shows, each year expanding to another city.

It was supposed to be an 8 PM show, but at 8 PM they were just starting their dinner at the nearby Tornado Room, Langford’s dining spot of choice for better than ten years. Salas-Humara started the night, playing several songs before Langford made his way to the stage. The show was even more cooperative than the one the year before. There were a couple songs on which they both played guitar, but usually while one was playing a tune, the other tapped on the bongos. Yep bongos, trust me, it sounded cooler than it sounds. Just watching their enthusiasm (especially Langford’s) on the oft-maligned drum percussion pair was a highlight of the show. Both have more than their share of dark songs, but they are endlessly jovial on stage. Salas-Humara in particular has what is perhaps the most winning and infectious smile I have even seen; it lights up his face and the room.

While Salas-Humara featured songs from the Silos’ new release Florizona, Langford mined a group of songs that once were old but are new again. His most recent Bloodshot offering is Skull Orchard Revisited, a book featuring his art and stories as well as writings from his father and brother centering on his childhood in Newport, Wales. Most of these songs were originally featured on the first Skull Orchard release, but they were re-recorded with the Burlington Welsh Men’s Choir for this special release. The Vancouver group is also much cooler than they sound, instead of turning it into a Mormon Tabernacle spectacle; they add depth and beauty to the songs. My favorite of these is the story of how the filming of the epic Moby Dick brought a temporary spotlight to the depressed Newport. “All the locals were extras, all the locals got paid,” it was enough to get me to finally rent the classic. (Spoiler alert, Ahab really is bat-shit crazy and Ishmael is the only one who survives the expedition.) He also delved into last year’s Skull Orchard record, the excellent Old Devils including “Luxury” and “Getting Used to Uselessness.”

Salas-Humara had a number of requests but he honored the classic “Susan Across the Ocean,” a heart-breaking song of loss. I’ve been lucky enough to have had both of these terrific artists play my basement and they weren’t going to let that go unrewarded. During “Sheila” a song of mistaken identity, one verse became “You say your name is Kiki, you look like Sheila,” which made more sense than Langford’s improv suggestion of “Gaynor,” to which he finally added “Gloria Gaynor.” With two sets and a long break, the show went much longer than it should have, but it is hard to complain about something this entertaining.

Hamell on Trial/Galynne & Markondrums; July 15, 2011; Kiki’s House of Righteous Music

The ranks of people who have only played the house twice lost another member as Hamell on Trial made his third appearance in just over two years. With a one man show as tight and scripted as Hamell’s you don’t expect many changes from time to time, especially when the shows are less than a year apart, but he surprised me by starting off the night with a half dozen new songs. He’d been writing songs at a furious pace since the last time I saw him, posting one a day to his website for 365 days straight. While the new songs were great and the audience reception was enthusiastic, it seems that people just want to hear the old stuff. The loudest applause of the night was for the songs that he plays every time. And when it came time for requests, it was for those from his Hamell catalog, like “Don’t Kill,” that he plays most every time. But I’m not going to lie, I would be disappointed if he didn’t do “John Lennon” or “The Meeting.”

The first of those tells a story he says is absolutely true, where as a child he ran into John Lennon when he and Yoko were in his home town. The tragedy is that he ran into Lennon literally, and was promptly told to “Fuck off” by his idol. The second could be considered Hamell’s creed and contains some of his best lines describing exactly what it is he does. “I’m like the Beastie Boys except I’m only one,” he claims, later saying “I’m like Nine Inch Nails except I don’t need machines.” The meeting is between him and us, the songs and the guitar, and it features some of fastest strumming. In fact it always amazes me that the battered 1940’s Gibson acoustic has survived the many years of abuse that he gives it. They just don’t make ‘em like that anymore.

Like the songs, he tends to use a lot of his jokes over and over, but the audience doesn’t seem to mind that either, laughing like they were hearing for the first time. They’re that good. The best of these was one I didn’t remember hearing before about a penguin and some vanilla ice cream. Ask me about it, it’s pretty hilarious. Hamell’s ridiculously adorable son Detroit also told his joke again, pulling the microphone down to his level to tell the one about the UPS man. Yep, that one. The truly new thing this time was that Hamell had brought some of his art with him. The brightly colored paintings often feature a musical theme, and I love my painting of the guitar player with bottles strewn around his feet playing songs to the moon.

I met openers Galynne and Markondrums when they came to my first Hamell show. This time they were joining Hamell for his three shows in Wisconsin. They describe their music as “soulful, conscious, sing-a-long pop songs.” It wasn’t really my thing, but they were lovely people. I especially enjoyed meeting Galynne’s charming son Jordan who palled around with Detroit most of the night despite being twice as old as him.

I suspect Hamell has joined the list of artists who will only place my house when they come to Madison. And that’s pretty cool.

Galynne and Markondrums



Hamell on Trial

Ian Moore/Bare Wires/Lotus Moons; July 10, 2011; Bottom of the Hill, San Francisco

The two times I saw Ian Moore at SXSW this year were the highlights of the week for me, breathtaking shows so amazing I almost cried. I wished I saw him more often, but he doesn’t tour much outside Texas and the West Coast, and he hadn’t been to Wisconsin since 2008. After I got back I realized I buy plane tickets all the time to see bands, why had I never bought one to see Ian? Luckily on his current short jaunt he was playing San Francisco where a friend of mine had just moved. Coincidentally enough, that friend Connie was with me the first time I saw Ian Moore. The show was at the long gone East End, and it was back when Ian was still a long haired guitar player heralded as the next coming of Stevie Ray Vaughn. I actually didn’t love him then, and if it hadn’t been for Jon Dee Graham I likely never would have seen him again, but thankfully I did.

Jon Dee and Ian were playing together at a bar in Milwaukee and after seeing Ian’s set of gorgeous melancholy, including a Neutral Milk Hotel cover, I was convinced there must be two Ian Moores. (Funnily enough, he said he gets that a lot). It was love at first, er, second sight, and I’ve been seeing Ian ever since whenever I get the chance. After being packed in front of the stage at the Continental Club in Austin, tonight’s crowd was a little disappointing. Yes, it was a Sunday night, but don’t they know how amazing he is? There were a few people who seemed to be in the know, the photographer who snapped a million pictures and the hippy who came up front for the older hits like “Muddy Jesus” and “Keep You Satisfied” holding his video camera high as he danced, but for the most part the crowd was polite but certainly not over-enthusiastic.

No, he didn’t make me cry, but it was still a stellar set focusing mainly on his most recent release El Sonido Nuevo. The set opened the same way the record does, with the fiery “Secondhand Store.” The most likely to get me choked up is the love story “Belle My Butterfly,” my favorite on record and live. Ever since I first met him after the release of Luminaria, his most introspective record to date, his shows have gotten progressively more rock. I love the newer songs, and I certainly love his mind-boggling guitar playing, but I do miss the delicate songs from that record. One thing that hasn’t changed is his use of falsetto. I am not often for the falsetto, but one as beautiful and perfect as his is a pleasure to hear. Back in the days of Luminaria, the shows were often just Ian on guitar and (the amazing and very good looking) Kullen Fuchs on a variety of instruments, perfect for that record’s mellow vibe. These days the band is a rock trio consisting of Matt Harris (The Posies, Oranger) on bass and Kyle Schneider on drums. They are a tight and powerful band, fascinating to watch. If only I knew what the hell a Lossy Coil was.

The other two bands on the bill were entertaining enough. I preferred the first, the Lotus Moons, a bunch of skinny young boys, all of whom could sing, with a penchant for 60’s garage rock. The second band Bare Wires were also good players, but admittedly the best thing about them was the lead singer’s 70’s mustache and his fancy shirt. It was a good bill, totally worth a plane ticket. Hopefully this is just the first of many times I get on a plane to see Ian Moore.

The Lotus Moons



The Bare Wires


Ian Moore & the Lossy Coils

Jon Dee Graham/Andrew Duplantis; July 5, 2011; Kiki’s House of Righteous Music

For the first time in many years Jon Dee Graham is actually able to sell all his records at his shows. New West has refused to repress early classics like Summerland and Hooray for the Moon, and they have long been out of print. Hooray for the internet, because of that he was able to find copies in Russia (or so the story goes). Not that it matters much to me since my collection is already complete, but the good part about it is that not only can other folks round out their collections, but it seems to have reminded him about all the great songs on those records that haven’t been getting much attention in recent years. And he spent much of his second set remedying that. After spending time in bands like the True Believers and playing guitar for other artists, his first solo release was Escape from Monster Island. Many of the songs are about his relationship with his young son, like “$100 Bill,” poignant without being sappy. But head and shoulders above the rest of the record is “Airplane” and its short lead-in track “Wait” often played together live.

I’ve said many times that “Airplane” is the song most likely to make me cry, but not because it is sad, no, simply because it is so amazing. The emotional heft of that song can feel like a punch in the stomach, and Jon Dee knows it which is why that was the selection from Monster Island tonight. It had been far too long since I’ve heard it live. Summerland, his second record, was my introduction to him. He was opening for the Gourds at the long-gone O’Cayz Corral and I was much more interested in him than in the main act. It’s hard to pick a favorite from that record, but if I had to, it would be “October” the song they played tonight. “Bury me in a pile of dead leaves,” the song opens, his growl of a voice sounding like autumn itself, before he posits “tell them I died of October.” When they reached Full, his fourth record, there seemed to be some inter-band debate over which track to pick. “Tie a Knot?” I suggested. Apparently I picked a winner, and the rip-roaring sea shanty was next up.

It wasn’t all a trip down memory lane of course, and songs from his most recent release It’s Not as Bad as It Looks figured heavily into the night. The title comes from the first words Jon Dee said to the state trooper who found him after his car went off the road between Dallas and Austin. Even though Jon Dee’s weary pessimism is part of his charm, he’s a lot more optimistic than he would like us to believe. Songs like “Lucky Day” have a happy to be alive charm, which of course he is. “This might actually possibly be my lucky day,” he claims after finding five dimes heads up on his dresser at the Motel 6. Later he names off the songs on the radio like a good luck mantra, “Neil Young, The Who, The Clash all in a row.” Of course, it isn’t all sunshine, but he skipped the tear-jerking “I Said.” The record’s opening track and tonight’s opening song “Beautifully Broken” is another winner, even if it isn’t as positive.

This was Jon Dee’s fifth appearance at the house, and it was drummer Joey Shuffield’s fourth. But despite the fact that Andrew Duplantis has been playing bass with him for ten years, it was his first time in the basement. He took advantage of it by asking if he could do an opening set. I’d only heard Andrew play solo once before, and it had been years ago. These songs were more interesting than the ones I’d heard then, probably influenced by his very happy marriage and his young son. In fact the lyrics to one of the songs he played were written by his wife, and Andrew challenged himself to write a song around it. After he finished it, she gave him some advice about how to play it. While he initially resisted, it turns out she was right.

Each Jon Dee show in the basement has been an occasion. After five shows, he definitely deserves the title of “favorite uncle,” um, long story. Tonight though may have been his best show yet. Song selection, band, audience, all added up for a truly amazing show. I know I say that all the time, but everyone in attendance agreed. I can’t wait till he comes back again.

Andrew Duplantis

Jon Dee Graham & the Fighting Cocks