Great Lake Swimmers/Snowblink/The Lumineers; August 26, 2011; SPACE, Evanston IL

The Great Lake Swimmers were scheduled to play the Orton Park festival the next day, but I felt like I needed to see them in a quiet listening room instead of outside with a bunch of drunk Madisonians, especially since I hadn’t seen them in pin-drop conditions for quite some time. So I engaged in my favorite new hobby, riding the Megabus for $2.50 round trip to Chicago, and headed down there Friday afternoon. SPACE is a very nice room, but this is the first time I had been there for a sold out show (good for them by the way), and I was lucky my bus arrived 45 minutes early or I would have been standing in the back of the room instead of in a well-located seat.

First band the Lumineers was a joy to watch. High energy acoustic music with a distinct old-time flair, it was easy to get caught up in their infectious songs. The winning combination of male-female vocals along with mandolin, cello, and keyboards (all handled by the baby-doll adorable Neyla Pekarek) in addition to the standard guitar-bass-drums configuration made them a crowd favorite. They sealed the deal by playing their last two songs from the back of the room, proving that they didn’t any of the modern conveniences of electricity. I should have bought a CD, and I’m still not sure why I didn’t. I was pretty sure I wanted nothing to do with second band Snowblink from the second they started setting up. I don’t mean to be catty, but sometimes you can judge a band by what they wear, and her dress was one of the ugliest I have ever seen. I also questioned the deer horns glued to her guitar, turns out that was the coolest thing about the duo. Everything I hate about girl singers was on display here, I couldn’t wait for them to be done.

Of course it was worth the wait. The Great Lake Swimmers continue to astound me. Their music is breathtakingly beautiful, and while they have picked up the pace on the newer songs, I’m always amazed that something that mellow can be so good. It may be the most difficult trick in the book, and they have aced it. It’s been two years since the terrific Lost Channels came out, so I wasn’t quite sure why they were touring at this point when a new record had to be coming soon. Turns out that was exactly why, they’d been in the studio and they wanted to road test some of these songs before they released it. The new stuff was consistently great, picking up where Channels left off, keeping that record’s more upbeat style while showcasing lead singer/songwriter/guitarist Tony Dekker’s heart breaking/melting voice.

In fact my only complaint about the show was that the only voice I want to hear is Dekker’s but too often violinist Erin Aurich‘s voice overwhelmed his. I like Aurich , she’s adorable and a terrific fiddle player, and she has a great voice (though questionable fashion sense), I just don’t want to hear her. I would almost rather just see Dekker solo, so enchanted am I by him. Wait, I take that back, make that Dekker and guitar and banjo player Erik Arneson, that is all I need. Oddly enough, even though I had come to SPACE to see the band in a better listening environment, the Madison show at Orton Park the next day turned out to be the superior one. Girl’s voice didn’t bother me near as much and the only annoyance from the audience was a woman with a shaky egg who thought she was part of the band. Best of all, I had made a request in Evanston for the next day that he honored.

Last year at an overcast and drizzly Waterfront festival I had embarrassed myself by yelling, surprisingly loudly, for “Imaginary Bars” when they returned for an encore. A surprised Dekker looked at me, and I added a quieter, “please…” He played it solo, and when he got to the line “The sun fell down and went to sleep,” the clouds parted and the sun came out. Wanting to avoid a repeat embarrassment, I went up to him after the show tonight and asked for it for the next day. He smiled, “oh yeah, last year the sun came out.” “That was me,” I admittedly sheepishly. “You got it.” This year he introduced the song by recalling last year’s events, “let’s see if we can recreate that.” Again, he played it solo. It was exquisite. He looked at me after and smiled, “Thank you” I whispered. Thank you.

Lumineers







Snowblink


Great Lake Swimmers

The Hold Steady/The Donkeys; August 24, 2011; Turner Hall

The last time the Hold Steady played Turner Hall they sold it out. Tonight’s show was not sold out, in fact it wasn’t even that crowded. We’ve become accustomed to yielding ten to twenty yards once the band starts. Tonight we backed up only a few feet as the show started. We couldn’t help thinking that maybe no one likes them anymore. After all, the last record got a lukewarm reception from fans who couldn’t quite figure out why after four records Craig Finn has suddenly decided to start singing instead of talking his way through every song. The departure of keyboardist and backing vocalist Franz Nicolay was also puzzling, he had been a crucial part of their sound since joining the band. It was his keyboards and backing vocals that gave the Hold Steady their Springsteen sound, and they seemed to like it that way. For the record, I like Heaven is Whenever, a lot. It took a few listens but it grew on me quickly.

The first time I heard these songs live, in the unlikely location of Hayward WI and the three words I never thought I’d hear “Thank you Hayward!” Nicolay’s absence didn’t seem as obvious. That was likely because there was a keyboard player, he was just hidden at the back of the stage, sitting down and playing and singing backing vocals. This time there was no buffer and his absence was starkly obvious. This resulted in a weird phenomenon, at least for me, the new songs sounded the best while the old songs seemed a little off. Maybe it is because Finn is now actually singing on these songs too, and that is something I’m just not used to. Or maybe it is something else, I just don’t know what. I was delighted to hear songs like “Massive Nights,” the glorious ode to high school, Homecoming and drinking, and the false accusations and petty jealousy of “Little Hoodrat Friend,” and of course Finn’s wild gesturing between “cigarettes” and “eyes” in “Chicago Seemed Tired Last Night,” but honestly, the new songs sounded better.

There’s also the matter of guitarist Tad Kubler. It would appear he has a stylist, or at least someone who told him his current cut was a good luck for him. We joked that the only way this was acceptable was if his girlfriend did it, and she was still in cosmetology school. Not that there is anything wrong with that of course, appearance shouldn’t matter, but it was just so damn distracting. Overall, I certainly enjoyed the show but the jury is out on whether I go very far out of my way to see them in the future.

The nicest surprise of the night was the opening set from the awkwardly named The Donkeys. I’ve become accustomed to terrible openers in Milwaukee. Turner Hall has a better track record than the Pabst, where I have to think long and hard to come up with an opener who wasn’t dreadful (the Thermals are the only one I can think of). So I wasn’t expecting much from Donkeys. They had started right on time and were already playing when we walked up the stairs to the massive ballroom. It didn’t take long for me to proclaim I liked them, and only a few songs more before I decided I would buy a CD if it was $10. I stopped short of naming them my new favorite band, the Features still solidly occupy that spot, but I did buy a CD even though it was $12. Most of the foursome sang lead at some point, and their distinct voices made for an interesting mix. My favorite was the bass player who reminded me of a young Bob Dylan if he’d been taking hair styling tips from Lyle Lovett. After the show I encouraged them to come to Madison sometime, and they said they definitely wanted to come back to Wisconsin. I hope they do, because until then I am just going to yell “Donkeys!” at every other band I see. Thanks Hold Steady for introducing us.

Donkeys



The Hold Steady

Matt the Electrician/ Galynne & Markondrums; August 21, 2011; High Noon Saloon

Matt the Electrician (yes, he really did used to be an electrician) is kind of a sissy. He writes deeply sentimental songs about his wife and children, and talks about them frequently and lovingly during his set. Additionally, he plays the un-manliest instrument ever, the banjele, a banjo-ukulele hybrid of course which I was hoping was actually called a manjo. He whistles, a lot. But somehow, instead of all this adding up to a nauseating folk singer stereotype, think the guy who gets the guitar bashed over his head in Animal House, he’s a smart, charming, and most importantly, very entertaining musician.

He hasn’t drawn the best nights to play Madison. He visited the House of Righteous Music on a Sunday and barely a dozen people showed up. He’s only been here once since then, opening for the Weepies for what seemed a ridiculously over-priced show. Someone must have paid the $20 and a lot of them must have remembered the name Matt the Electrician because there was a very respectable crowd for a Monday night. This time around he was traveling with Scrappy Jud Newcomb, who played guitar and did backing vocals. Newcomb is a fellow Austinite singer songwriter and part of the Resentments, a sort of “supergroup” of Texas musicians. I’d expected he would play some of his own tunes, but he took his sideman duties seriously.

I recognized many of the songs, either from the CDs I had or from seeing him as Jon Dee Graham’s “friend” at the Continental Gallery last March. My favorite of these is “Animal Boy” written for his young son who apparently is never satisfied, “You are an animal boy, you’re hungry all of the time, you are an animal boy, you think it’s always dinner time.” At the house he did a terrific cover of Rick Springfield’s classic “Jessie’s Girl,” complete with an extensive and hilarious intro, tonight they sprung the Police’s “Bring on the Night” with no warning at all. It was awesome. I wish Matt made it to Madison a little more often, it is always good to see him.

Galynne

Matt the Electrician

The Pines; August 19, 2010; Café Carpe, Fort Atkinson

I say it every single time, but I wish I got to the Carpe more, since the Fort Atkinson institution may be the most charming place on earth. Comfortable café up front, music room in the back, all seemingly unchanged in the last several decades. A more recent addition is a back porch which overlooks the Rock River that flows through the center of town.

I first heard of the Pines when their friend Ben Weaver told me about the band, saying they would be perfect for the basement. But Carpe co-owner Bill Camplin has known them much longer than that, and they have been playing there for years. Just as he knew they would, the Pines have seen their attendance increase for recent shows. It’s no wonder, a well reviewed record produced by Bo Ramsey (Greg Brown’s producer, sideman and friend) and an impressive appearance on Andy Moore’s Wisconsin public television show the 30 Minute Music Hour will do that. I’m probably not the first to say that the Carpe is the perfect venue for them. An always respectful listening room, it also has a stellar sound system. The tables and mismatched chairs seem to be in a different position every time I am there. Tonight our chair choices were either too close or too far away (well, for me at least, since you couldn’t possibly be too far away in that room). We chose the row of theater chairs too close and didn’t regret it.

My previous encounters with the Pines have been as a duo or a trio with terrific drummer JT Bates. Tonight there was a new face on stage, keyboardist Alex Ramsey, yep, son of Bo, but also brother of one of the Pines two frontmen Benson Ramsey. Alex added another dimension to their music, his angular notes sometimes battling the spare guitar sounds before embracing them. They started the set with David Huckfelt’s haunting “Pray Tell,” a series of questions (“Who hung the moon so low in the sky”) with no answers, and followed it with Benson’s “Heart and Bones,” his distinctive Dylan-ish voice holding the whole room in thrall. They traded songs like that for the entire night, old favorites from Tremolo mixing with new songs slated for a record early next year. The new material is promising, certain to land them a spot on my year end list. Their guitar playing is completely in tune with one another, Benson adding subtle slide to David’s songs and David adding beautiful acoustic strums to Benson’s. The few times they sing together it sounds so lovely I wish they would do it more. But that’s my only complaint about a band that gets better every time I see them.

WMSE Backyard BBQ; July 31, 2011; Cathedral Square, Milwaukee

Shane Sweeney and Micah Schnabel of Two Cow Garage are two of the absolute nicest guys I have ever met, so why can’t they keep band mates? Original drummer Dustin Harigle quit on the eve of a short tour of the Midwest (including a stop at the House of Righteous Music) several years ago, forcing them to do the tour drummerless. They replaced him with Cody Smith who seemed a great fit for the band till he recently also quit. They told me they have a new drummer but he couldn’t make this gig due to a prior engagement. Even before Smith left, they’d lost keyboardist Andy Schell, which left me wondering who would fix the van. His makeshift mechanic skills were nearly as important on the road as his musical ones. I can only speculate that none of them had the drive and determination that Sweeney and Schnabel do. Even as Sweeney has started a family, the band still tours frequently, and spending long hours on the road for little money isn’t for everyone.

So it was just the two of them, but honestly that is all they really need. It is certainly all I need. Sure they rock a little harder with the full band, there’re more blistering guitars and throat shredding vocals, but I’ll take the two of them trading songs on acoustic guitars any day. It was a big stage for just two people, especially when one would step back to let the other play, and their white T-shirts blended in with the big tent they played under. Both have upcoming solo releases, Sweeney’s first, Schnabel’s second, and they drew heavily from these, so the bulk of the set was unfamiliar. Most of those I did know came from Schnabel’s first solo CD, the excellent When the Stage Lights Go Dim, a reflection on life on the road with its too-late night and too-young girls. “I hardly ever play this song live anymore, but you’re pretty cool, so I’m going to try it,” Sweeney said looking at me. “If I forget the words you’re going to have to help me out,” he continued before playing the first couple notes of the song I knew it would be. One of the first Two Cow Garage songs I ever heard and still my favorite, “Saturday Night” is the story of choosing a good time over someone you love, all the while swearing that “I’ll make it up to you, next Saturday night.”

I might not have even known about this show if it wasn’t for Bloodshot’s e-mail about Bloodshot bands in the Midwest. After seeing Whitey Morgan and the 78’s listed for this event, I checked the rest of the line-up and was delighted to see Two Cow on it. Morgan is a recent Bloodshot roster addition. While they won’t do anything to change the perception of the label as a strictly alt-country haven, they do outlaw country better than just about any other current band. The obvious reason for this is Morgan himself, an imposing man with an impressive beard, you believe he has lived all the hard life stories he tells. In spite of that, bass player Jeremy Mackinder may be the coolest man on stage, his mound of curly red hair a fiery swirl as he plays. The real secret to the 78’s sound, unsurprisingly, is the pedal steel. It’s high and lonesome song adds that extra layer of emotion to everything they do. Live they play mostly originals with the occasional well-chosen classic country tune thrown in. He even dedicated one of these to the Two Cow boys, calling them his new friends, “even though I just met them I can tell they are cool.”

The five piece band filled the stage better than the slight figures of the Two Cow boys, but they had nothing on the band before them. The multiple piece Jambalaya Brass Band played the sort of contemporary Cajun jazz that was perfect for chilling on your blanket on the lawn. Not that you could actually chill, with temps in the upper 90’s, but you know what I mean. The last band of the night was the Budos Band. I was curious, but it had already been a long day at the end of a long weekend. Thanks to WMSE for putting on this remarkable free event. I hope to see you again next year.


Two Cow Garage







Whitey Morgan & the 78's

Sugar Maple Fest featuring the Shotgun Party; July 30, 2011; Lake Farms Park

Josh Harty had his CD release show the same night as the second day of Sugar Maple fest, but I didn’t make it. I felt bad, but as I see it, it’s his own fault. I was too exhausted to go to the High Noon after spending most of the day at the traditional music fest. I went to see the Shotgun Party, basement alumni and guaranteed good time. They are a can’t-miss show anytime, but even more so this time since it was, sadly, their last time playing Madison. The band is splitting up and following different paths. It isn’t an ugly break-up, they all still love and respect each other, but I guess they felt it was time. Of course I never would have booked the Shotgun Party in the basement if they hadn’t mentioned their friend Brennen Leigh when they first contacted me. And I wouldn’t know the Fargo-born Austin musician if it weren’t for Harty who is also from Fargo. So you see, it is totally his fault that I didn’t make it to his CD release show.

I was planning on seeing both of their sets, one early and one late in the afternoon, but on my way there I got a flat tire on my bike. I haven’t had a flat since my tire was mysteriously slashed at the swimming pool when I was in fifth grade. I was about a mile away from home, and I did exactly what I did after discovering my flat at the pool, I walked my bike home and asked someone to fix it. Then it was my dad, today it was the nice gentlemen at Willy St Bikes.

I’m not a fan of girl singers. My joke is usually “what’s worse than a girl singer?” The answer, “Two girl singers.” But that is not the case with the Shotgun Party. Guitarist Jenny Parrot has a very distinct voice, a girly yodel that fits her perfectly, while fiddler Katy Rose Cox has a more traditional voice, but one that blends with Parrot’s nicely. Parrot usually sings lead, but Cox has a few songs of her own. Some of the best are the duets between the two, like the high-spirited “Great Big Kiss” from their new CD Here’s What You’re Getting. Their set drew from all three of their releases going back such classics as “Gladiola” and the naughty “Canned Peaches.” In addition to the entertainment on stage, we were treated to some very entertaining dancing on the floor in front of it. Foremost among the dancers was a remarkably unselfconscious teenage boy in a tight pink Shotgun Party shirt. He bought the shirt even though it was a girl’s shirt, claiming it was discrimination not to have pink in men’s sizes. When Jenny asked for two volunteers, his hand and that of one of his many dancing partners, and adorable redhead in a yellow dress, shot up. Jenny handed them each a maraca and told them to “go crazy” during “Why When I Cry.” They took her advice and the stage bounced noticeably as they danced around the stage.

The last time they played Sugar Maple, two years ago, Katy had to miss it because she was on tour in Europe with another band. Filling in was the fiddler from the Asylum Street Spankers. This year it was bassist Andrew Austin-Peterson who was absent, having already left the group. His replacement… the bass player from the Spankers. Luckily he seemed to have the wardrobe necessary to play with the Shotgun Party and he looked sharp in red next to the two girls.

The band has definitely made a lot of friends and fans of all ages in Madison. They will be missed.