Monday, October 13, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Nick Lowe/Paul Cebar; October 12, 2008; Barrymore Theater
I’m not quite exactly sure why I was willing to pay $35 to see Nick Lowe. No one had to talk me into it, in fact, it was my idea. It’s not even like I’m a huge Lowe fan, I know the same two songs everyone does, but something about it made me think it would be worth it. And it was.
Turns out Lowe has written more than “Cruel to Be Kind” and “I Knew the Bride (When She Used to Rock & Roll),” in fact what is arguably his best known song is more commonly associated with Elvis Costello. “What’s So Funny (‘bout Peace, Love and Understanding)” made him a millionaire, and it wasn’t even the Costello version. Curtis Stigers recorded a version of that iconic song for the soundtrack to The Bodyguard, which sold 15 million copies. It was that windfall that allowed Lowe to record in recent years exactly the records that he wanted to. Reading about his relatively newfound artistic freedom, I got the distinct impression that he wouldn’t be playing any of those songs that I knew live, which I was surprisingly OK with. I was wrong.
As it turned out, he did not only “Cruel,” “Bride,” and “What’s So Funny” (which to be honest, I actually didn’t know he wrote) but also “The Beast in Me,” which Johnny Cash made his own with a heartfelt version on his pivotal American Recordings record. Admittedly, I enjoyed all those songs quite a bit (especially the “he wrote this?” moment of disbelief that went along with the latter), but I also think I would have been just fine with it if he hadn’t done them. Songs I’d never heard from his recent albums At My Age (the vindictive “I Trained Her to Love Me” could have been part of the soundtrack for In the Company of Men) and The Convincer (his wounded delivery of “Lately I’ve Let Things Slide” was especially touching) were very bit as entertaining as those that I knew every word to.
In between songs he was exactly the charmer that I expected him to be, his British accent infused every word with an air of dignity, with his gorgeous white hair providing even more evidence. Now an “elder statesman of rock” (a tag that turned up in more than one preview for this show), he maintained that impression even as he talked about hanging out with Cheap Trick in Madison back in the day. Another local celebrity that he also knew from those days was opener Paul Cebar.
“Play the shit like you have a band behind you so we can dance!” one enthusiastic woman fan yelled from just behind us. Cebar nodded like he understood what that meant and continued his set. As nonsensical as her request was, I think I kinda know what she meant. For years, Cebar and his ever-changing backing band have been entertaining crowds from Summerfest to street fests to the Harmony Bar with their distinctive, highly danceable brand of funk. Without the band behind him, it was as if our butts didn’t know what to do. I for one was OK with that. After a while the band stuff has become almost generic sounding, while I found his solo set far more entertaining than that.
In recent years Peter Mulvey has been playing a pair of songs co-written with Cebar, both of which sound distinctly like Cebar. Tonight he played a third collaboration… that sounded just like a Mulvey song. Funny how that works. Cebar’s set was just another part of a solidly entertaining night of music. I knew that would happen.
I’m not quite exactly sure why I was willing to pay $35 to see Nick Lowe. No one had to talk me into it, in fact, it was my idea. It’s not even like I’m a huge Lowe fan, I know the same two songs everyone does, but something about it made me think it would be worth it. And it was.
Turns out Lowe has written more than “Cruel to Be Kind” and “I Knew the Bride (When She Used to Rock & Roll),” in fact what is arguably his best known song is more commonly associated with Elvis Costello. “What’s So Funny (‘bout Peace, Love and Understanding)” made him a millionaire, and it wasn’t even the Costello version. Curtis Stigers recorded a version of that iconic song for the soundtrack to The Bodyguard, which sold 15 million copies. It was that windfall that allowed Lowe to record in recent years exactly the records that he wanted to. Reading about his relatively newfound artistic freedom, I got the distinct impression that he wouldn’t be playing any of those songs that I knew live, which I was surprisingly OK with. I was wrong.
As it turned out, he did not only “Cruel,” “Bride,” and “What’s So Funny” (which to be honest, I actually didn’t know he wrote) but also “The Beast in Me,” which Johnny Cash made his own with a heartfelt version on his pivotal American Recordings record. Admittedly, I enjoyed all those songs quite a bit (especially the “he wrote this?” moment of disbelief that went along with the latter), but I also think I would have been just fine with it if he hadn’t done them. Songs I’d never heard from his recent albums At My Age (the vindictive “I Trained Her to Love Me” could have been part of the soundtrack for In the Company of Men) and The Convincer (his wounded delivery of “Lately I’ve Let Things Slide” was especially touching) were very bit as entertaining as those that I knew every word to.
In between songs he was exactly the charmer that I expected him to be, his British accent infused every word with an air of dignity, with his gorgeous white hair providing even more evidence. Now an “elder statesman of rock” (a tag that turned up in more than one preview for this show), he maintained that impression even as he talked about hanging out with Cheap Trick in Madison back in the day. Another local celebrity that he also knew from those days was opener Paul Cebar.
“Play the shit like you have a band behind you so we can dance!” one enthusiastic woman fan yelled from just behind us. Cebar nodded like he understood what that meant and continued his set. As nonsensical as her request was, I think I kinda know what she meant. For years, Cebar and his ever-changing backing band have been entertaining crowds from Summerfest to street fests to the Harmony Bar with their distinctive, highly danceable brand of funk. Without the band behind him, it was as if our butts didn’t know what to do. I for one was OK with that. After a while the band stuff has become almost generic sounding, while I found his solo set far more entertaining than that.
In recent years Peter Mulvey has been playing a pair of songs co-written with Cebar, both of which sound distinctly like Cebar. Tonight he played a third collaboration… that sounded just like a Mulvey song. Funny how that works. Cebar’s set was just another part of a solidly entertaining night of music. I knew that would happen.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
The Magnetic Fields/The Forewords; October 11, 2008; The Capitol Theater
The older Stephen Merritt gets, the more bizarre he becomes. I’d gotten used to his strange habit of sticking a finger in his already ear-plugged left ear (yes, I realize he has a hearing problem, it's still weird) to block out the sound of the audience that he obviously has nothing but contempt for, but this was the first time I’ve seen him get verbally abusive toward us. When a fan showed enthusiasm with a decidedly moo-like whoop, he looked disgusted, commenting “I didn’t know they allowed cows in here, but I guess this is Wisconsin.” He even seemed disgusted with the very patient Claudia Gonson, his partner in this band for years, chiding her for not speaking up when counting off the songs because he was the only one without a monitor and couldn’t hear her. Even so, this may be the best Magnetic Fields show I’ve seen.
As in the past, the pair was joined by John Woo and Sam Davol, on guitar and cello respectively, who try their best to stay out of the way and just play the songs. This time there was a new face in the line-up, Shirley Simms who also seemed reluctant to join the between song banter, choosing for the most part to use her microphone only for singing rather than enter into the bickering. Once she sang it was obvious that she was the voice behind many of their songs especially those on the incomparable 69 Love Songs, and I wondered why I hadn’t seen her before. Adding to the perception of Merritt’s belligerence, both she and Claudia took the vocals on songs handled by him on the records.
The set list covered not only Love Songs and their recent release Distortion (thankfully without the distortion), but also songs from the movies Merritt has contributed to. The engaging Pieces of April gave us the lovely “Dreams Anymore,” while the best part about the dismal Eban and Charley must have been “This Little Ukulele.” Also included were two selections from A Tragic Treasury music from the Lemony Snicket movie A Series of Unfortunate Events, “Crows” and “Walking My Gargoyle.” While Merritt couldn’t be bothered to leave his seat for anything, Gonson stood on her piano bench for the crowd pleasing live staple “Yeah, Oh Yeah.” Like every other song, they introduced it as a song about love.
This was the first time I had been in the former Oscar Mayer Theater which had morphed into the Capitol Theater as it became part of the Overture Center. It seemed foreshortened from its previous size, the back wall closer than I remembered it. The rows were filled with intelligent looking, quirky folks and more than a few same sex couples, but it was nowhere near a sell-out. Hopefully that won’t keep them from returning, Merritt may not enjoy performing for us, but Madison certainly seemed to enjoy his performance. Next time though I hope they leave the awkward Power Point opener the Forewords at home.
The older Stephen Merritt gets, the more bizarre he becomes. I’d gotten used to his strange habit of sticking a finger in his already ear-plugged left ear (yes, I realize he has a hearing problem, it's still weird) to block out the sound of the audience that he obviously has nothing but contempt for, but this was the first time I’ve seen him get verbally abusive toward us. When a fan showed enthusiasm with a decidedly moo-like whoop, he looked disgusted, commenting “I didn’t know they allowed cows in here, but I guess this is Wisconsin.” He even seemed disgusted with the very patient Claudia Gonson, his partner in this band for years, chiding her for not speaking up when counting off the songs because he was the only one without a monitor and couldn’t hear her. Even so, this may be the best Magnetic Fields show I’ve seen.
As in the past, the pair was joined by John Woo and Sam Davol, on guitar and cello respectively, who try their best to stay out of the way and just play the songs. This time there was a new face in the line-up, Shirley Simms who also seemed reluctant to join the between song banter, choosing for the most part to use her microphone only for singing rather than enter into the bickering. Once she sang it was obvious that she was the voice behind many of their songs especially those on the incomparable 69 Love Songs, and I wondered why I hadn’t seen her before. Adding to the perception of Merritt’s belligerence, both she and Claudia took the vocals on songs handled by him on the records.
The set list covered not only Love Songs and their recent release Distortion (thankfully without the distortion), but also songs from the movies Merritt has contributed to. The engaging Pieces of April gave us the lovely “Dreams Anymore,” while the best part about the dismal Eban and Charley must have been “This Little Ukulele.” Also included were two selections from A Tragic Treasury music from the Lemony Snicket movie A Series of Unfortunate Events, “Crows” and “Walking My Gargoyle.” While Merritt couldn’t be bothered to leave his seat for anything, Gonson stood on her piano bench for the crowd pleasing live staple “Yeah, Oh Yeah.” Like every other song, they introduced it as a song about love.
This was the first time I had been in the former Oscar Mayer Theater which had morphed into the Capitol Theater as it became part of the Overture Center. It seemed foreshortened from its previous size, the back wall closer than I remembered it. The rows were filled with intelligent looking, quirky folks and more than a few same sex couples, but it was nowhere near a sell-out. Hopefully that won’t keep them from returning, Merritt may not enjoy performing for us, but Madison certainly seemed to enjoy his performance. Next time though I hope they leave the awkward Power Point opener the Forewords at home.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Blake Thomas’s Dream Band/Chris Koza Band/Trapper Schoepp Band; October 10, 2008; Café Montmartre
Blake Thomas had assembled the perfect band once before, for a show at the Crystal Corner, and he always smiled when he talked it. Given a chance to do it again, he went one better adding keyboardist Eric Anderson to a mix that already included guitarist Adam Davis, bassist Chris Boeger, drummer Scott Beardsley and violinist Shauncey Ali. This was almost the line-up that played on his recent release, the remarkable Flatlands, the only difference being that Adam Cargin had played drums. He, Davis and Boeger joined Blake in the studio for a marathon one day recording sessions where all of the album’s basic tracks were laid down. Ali and Anderson added their parts later.
The very definition of a Dream Band means those musicians are the best he knows and every one of them is in high demand with other projects, which makes scheduling a practice difficult. Beardsley was Blake’s drummer for the recording of 40 Minutes and the Monday gigs at Brocach that he did every week up until leaving for Texas, but he had never played most of the tunes that made up Flatlands. For the most part that didn’t seem to matter (c’mon, he is a dream drummer after all), and the way he played the newest tune, the unrecorded “Drink Myself Sober” gave it a new twist. In fact, Davis had been doing that all week, adding seemingly incongruent electric guitar parts to what had previously been a Tom Waits-ish acoustic lament. Perhaps the best part of the show was the battles between Davis and Ali; they would trade wicked solos, each playing off of what the other had just done. Well, that and watching Blake stand back and smile in awe at the pair. I found myself doing the same thing.
It was a terrific set, too bad it took so long to get to it. By the time the Dream Band took the stage somewhere around midnight (?), the crowd had thinned noticeably. I have a hard time believing they had all shown up to see the openers. The pedantic Chris Koza Band, while musically just fine, overstayed their welcome, while the Trapper Schoepp Band from Milwaukee couldn’t have been responsible for that many fans. The latter did start the night off entertainingly enough with their irrepressible Bowie-esque rock. It was fun to watch the boys, all of who looked barely old enough to drink, trade instruments every few songs even as they mixed it up vocally as well. They had played with Minneapolitan Koza the night before in Milwaukee, too bad we had couldn’t have just gotten them tonight.
Blake Thomas had assembled the perfect band once before, for a show at the Crystal Corner, and he always smiled when he talked it. Given a chance to do it again, he went one better adding keyboardist Eric Anderson to a mix that already included guitarist Adam Davis, bassist Chris Boeger, drummer Scott Beardsley and violinist Shauncey Ali. This was almost the line-up that played on his recent release, the remarkable Flatlands, the only difference being that Adam Cargin had played drums. He, Davis and Boeger joined Blake in the studio for a marathon one day recording sessions where all of the album’s basic tracks were laid down. Ali and Anderson added their parts later.
The very definition of a Dream Band means those musicians are the best he knows and every one of them is in high demand with other projects, which makes scheduling a practice difficult. Beardsley was Blake’s drummer for the recording of 40 Minutes and the Monday gigs at Brocach that he did every week up until leaving for Texas, but he had never played most of the tunes that made up Flatlands. For the most part that didn’t seem to matter (c’mon, he is a dream drummer after all), and the way he played the newest tune, the unrecorded “Drink Myself Sober” gave it a new twist. In fact, Davis had been doing that all week, adding seemingly incongruent electric guitar parts to what had previously been a Tom Waits-ish acoustic lament. Perhaps the best part of the show was the battles between Davis and Ali; they would trade wicked solos, each playing off of what the other had just done. Well, that and watching Blake stand back and smile in awe at the pair. I found myself doing the same thing.
It was a terrific set, too bad it took so long to get to it. By the time the Dream Band took the stage somewhere around midnight (?), the crowd had thinned noticeably. I have a hard time believing they had all shown up to see the openers. The pedantic Chris Koza Band, while musically just fine, overstayed their welcome, while the Trapper Schoepp Band from Milwaukee couldn’t have been responsible for that many fans. The latter did start the night off entertainingly enough with their irrepressible Bowie-esque rock. It was fun to watch the boys, all of who looked barely old enough to drink, trade instruments every few songs even as they mixed it up vocally as well. They had played with Minneapolitan Koza the night before in Milwaukee, too bad we had couldn’t have just gotten them tonight.
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Sleeping in the Aviary/National Beekeeper’s Society/A Papercup Band/Blueheels; October 9, 2008; The Frequency
Whatever happened to Devin Davis? His Lonely People of the World Unite would have made my Best of 2005 list except I didn't actually hear it until 2006. I saw him play a few oddly quirky, highly entertaining shows, once opening for Tilly & the Wall and once at an unexpectedly sold out show at Schuba's. There were immensely flattering reviews, label interest, fans, much talk about a follow up record and then... nothing. It was like he never existed. While his last MySpace blog was from January of this year, it does apparently get checked every day. The comments section is loaded with "when will the record be done?" and "are you still alive?" posts. Meanwhile, his website hasn't been updated since '07.
Luckily none of that matters now because Sleeping in the Aviary has released Expensive Vomit in a Cheap Motel, a record that sounds strikingly like Davis but outdoes Lonely in both title and content. This is the record I desperately wanted their first release Oh, This Old Thing to be. It tones down the sloppy punk noise and turns up the witty lyrics, accordion (!), and acoustic guitar, while keeping the first record's low-fi charm intact. It's my new best friend, and it's awesome. From “Things Look Good,” a song I remember from the very first time I saw them play (seriously, and this was almost three years ago) to the amazing “Gas Mask Blues” a haunted, spine-tingling track that sounds simultaneously like a murder ballad from the Anthology of American Folk and One Foot in the Grave Beck (oh, how I miss him). When lead singer Elliott Kozel sings "If you have my daughter I don't know what I will do, cause I'm gonna want to hit her when she looks like you," he sounds like he's teetering on the edge of madness and you believe every word.
It used to be that I never knew exactly what to expect at a SitA show, for every entertainingly endearing show like the first time I saw them at the High Noon or their acoustic set at Mother Fool's, there was a King Club show that I just didn’t understand. That hasn't been true the last several times I have seen them, in fact they have become one of Madison's most dependable bands, and every time I find I like them more. Tonight's CD release show was no exception. A solid representation of all their best qualities (including newest member Celeste on the musical saw!), it was the rare occasion when the Frequency stayed crowded all night.
It started with a good-sized crowd when unlikely openers the Blueheels kicked off the night with their own brand of rock, buoyed as always by Robby Schiller's love it or hate it voice (I am solidly in the first camp of course). A Thursday night at the Frequency seemed an unlikely place to have two of Madison’s biggest draws together for the first time, but perhaps that was the logic of having them at opposite ends of the order. Being on this bill gave them a chance to connect with a new crowd who seemed to enjoy their energetic but far too short set. For old fans, they had two new songs on the list. The first was a joyful shout-along, the second a slower jam prominently featuring Teddy Pedriana’s keyboard which sounded unmistakably like a marimba. Undeniably new and different, it might have been my favorite part of a set made up of old favorites.
On the other hand, the National Beekeeper’s Society seemed a natural for this bill. The bands are friends, and I’ve seen lead singer Nick Whetro cover a SitA song with them all in the room. While they played, a set of SitA masks circulated through the crowd, and strangely enough most audience members chose to put them on backwards. It was slightly unnerving to watch the show with Michael, Elliott and Phil starring back at me (see photos). Heavy on the new record Pawn Shop Etiquette (sans the title track which Nick amusingly dismissed as terrible when someone in the crowd yelled for it) with a few of their debut tunes thrown in, it was a typical high energy, entertaining set, perfect for a night which buzzed (no pun intended) from beginning to end.
It’s nights like this that make me thankful I live in a town with such a vibrant local music scene. Several of my entries on this year’s top twenty list are going to be from bands that call Madison home. I already predict a battle between Expensive Vomit and Blake Thomas’s amazing Flatlands.
Whatever happened to Devin Davis? His Lonely People of the World Unite would have made my Best of 2005 list except I didn't actually hear it until 2006. I saw him play a few oddly quirky, highly entertaining shows, once opening for Tilly & the Wall and once at an unexpectedly sold out show at Schuba's. There were immensely flattering reviews, label interest, fans, much talk about a follow up record and then... nothing. It was like he never existed. While his last MySpace blog was from January of this year, it does apparently get checked every day. The comments section is loaded with "when will the record be done?" and "are you still alive?" posts. Meanwhile, his website hasn't been updated since '07.
Luckily none of that matters now because Sleeping in the Aviary has released Expensive Vomit in a Cheap Motel, a record that sounds strikingly like Davis but outdoes Lonely in both title and content. This is the record I desperately wanted their first release Oh, This Old Thing to be. It tones down the sloppy punk noise and turns up the witty lyrics, accordion (!), and acoustic guitar, while keeping the first record's low-fi charm intact. It's my new best friend, and it's awesome. From “Things Look Good,” a song I remember from the very first time I saw them play (seriously, and this was almost three years ago) to the amazing “Gas Mask Blues” a haunted, spine-tingling track that sounds simultaneously like a murder ballad from the Anthology of American Folk and One Foot in the Grave Beck (oh, how I miss him). When lead singer Elliott Kozel sings "If you have my daughter I don't know what I will do, cause I'm gonna want to hit her when she looks like you," he sounds like he's teetering on the edge of madness and you believe every word.
It used to be that I never knew exactly what to expect at a SitA show, for every entertainingly endearing show like the first time I saw them at the High Noon or their acoustic set at Mother Fool's, there was a King Club show that I just didn’t understand. That hasn't been true the last several times I have seen them, in fact they have become one of Madison's most dependable bands, and every time I find I like them more. Tonight's CD release show was no exception. A solid representation of all their best qualities (including newest member Celeste on the musical saw!), it was the rare occasion when the Frequency stayed crowded all night.
It started with a good-sized crowd when unlikely openers the Blueheels kicked off the night with their own brand of rock, buoyed as always by Robby Schiller's love it or hate it voice (I am solidly in the first camp of course). A Thursday night at the Frequency seemed an unlikely place to have two of Madison’s biggest draws together for the first time, but perhaps that was the logic of having them at opposite ends of the order. Being on this bill gave them a chance to connect with a new crowd who seemed to enjoy their energetic but far too short set. For old fans, they had two new songs on the list. The first was a joyful shout-along, the second a slower jam prominently featuring Teddy Pedriana’s keyboard which sounded unmistakably like a marimba. Undeniably new and different, it might have been my favorite part of a set made up of old favorites.
On the other hand, the National Beekeeper’s Society seemed a natural for this bill. The bands are friends, and I’ve seen lead singer Nick Whetro cover a SitA song with them all in the room. While they played, a set of SitA masks circulated through the crowd, and strangely enough most audience members chose to put them on backwards. It was slightly unnerving to watch the show with Michael, Elliott and Phil starring back at me (see photos). Heavy on the new record Pawn Shop Etiquette (sans the title track which Nick amusingly dismissed as terrible when someone in the crowd yelled for it) with a few of their debut tunes thrown in, it was a typical high energy, entertaining set, perfect for a night which buzzed (no pun intended) from beginning to end.
It’s nights like this that make me thankful I live in a town with such a vibrant local music scene. Several of my entries on this year’s top twenty list are going to be from bands that call Madison home. I already predict a battle between Expensive Vomit and Blake Thomas’s amazing Flatlands.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Mad Toast Live hosted by Mary Gaines & Chris Waggoner with guests Shauncey Ali, Blake Thomas & Adam Davis; October 7, 2008; The Brink Lounge
It’s hard to know exactly what Mad Toast Live really is. It uses a talk show format in a live music setting and hosts Chris Waggoner and Mary Gaines play along on their guests’ songs. It feels like it should be broadcast somewhere, extending beyond the Brink’s subterranean walls, but it isn’t. For now, venturing into the bar’s hotel lobby décor is the only way to hear their variety of guests talk about their music, their influences and what ever else might come up over the course of three hours.
Our hosts knew tonight’s guests better than their average invitee, both of them have played or sang on many of Blake Thomas’s records and Shauncey Ali routinely joins them as a classical-style trio (available for weddings and other special events they were quick to point out). Perhaps the special-est guest was the ridiculously talented Adam Davis who played guitar on Blake’s recent release Flatlands, and who just happened to be in town this week. I missed most of the first segment of the show, arriving just as Waggoner, Gaines and Davis finished a song. For entertainment during the break, Waggoner cued up a record, that’s right, vinyl, on the phonograph.
The second set focused on violinist Shauncey Ali and his recent forays into the world of competitive fiddling. Shauncey has participated in the prestigious Minnesota State Fair contest the last two years, finishing in the top five both times, and this year Blake was his accompanist. The pair also finished first in the Wisconsin State Fair fiddling championship earlier this year. Shauncey discussed the dos and don’ts of the contests, while underplaying the questionable events that seemed to sabotage his chances in this year’s MN contest. He and Blake played many of their contest tunes. Shauncey shows such grace and skill it is hard to believe that anyone could have beaten them.
For the final segment of the evening Waggoner and Gaines talked to Blake about his own music and his methods of songwriting. He confessed that he seldom sits on a song for very long, it is either a keeper right away or it is lost. I’ll admit there are a couple songs I’ve only heard once- I wish I knew where they were now. All five musicians joined in on some of the prettiest versions of his songs I’ve ever heard. The gracefully languid “Seahorses” was heartbreaking, almost bringing tears to my eyes, while “How Long” turned into an extended jam, each artist taking a turn with the familiar melody. It was especially a treat to hear “Head is a House” (the lyrics complete the title with the brilliantly aching “I’d be ashamed to take you home to”) and a couple other songs that don’t get out much and when they do it is amidst the drunken hubbub of a night at Mickey’s.
Mad Toast Live’s interesting format gives you a chance to not just hear an artist, but also to get to know them, I’d be interested to stop in another Tuesday night and see someone I don’t know as well.
It’s hard to know exactly what Mad Toast Live really is. It uses a talk show format in a live music setting and hosts Chris Waggoner and Mary Gaines play along on their guests’ songs. It feels like it should be broadcast somewhere, extending beyond the Brink’s subterranean walls, but it isn’t. For now, venturing into the bar’s hotel lobby décor is the only way to hear their variety of guests talk about their music, their influences and what ever else might come up over the course of three hours.
Our hosts knew tonight’s guests better than their average invitee, both of them have played or sang on many of Blake Thomas’s records and Shauncey Ali routinely joins them as a classical-style trio (available for weddings and other special events they were quick to point out). Perhaps the special-est guest was the ridiculously talented Adam Davis who played guitar on Blake’s recent release Flatlands, and who just happened to be in town this week. I missed most of the first segment of the show, arriving just as Waggoner, Gaines and Davis finished a song. For entertainment during the break, Waggoner cued up a record, that’s right, vinyl, on the phonograph.
The second set focused on violinist Shauncey Ali and his recent forays into the world of competitive fiddling. Shauncey has participated in the prestigious Minnesota State Fair contest the last two years, finishing in the top five both times, and this year Blake was his accompanist. The pair also finished first in the Wisconsin State Fair fiddling championship earlier this year. Shauncey discussed the dos and don’ts of the contests, while underplaying the questionable events that seemed to sabotage his chances in this year’s MN contest. He and Blake played many of their contest tunes. Shauncey shows such grace and skill it is hard to believe that anyone could have beaten them.
For the final segment of the evening Waggoner and Gaines talked to Blake about his own music and his methods of songwriting. He confessed that he seldom sits on a song for very long, it is either a keeper right away or it is lost. I’ll admit there are a couple songs I’ve only heard once- I wish I knew where they were now. All five musicians joined in on some of the prettiest versions of his songs I’ve ever heard. The gracefully languid “Seahorses” was heartbreaking, almost bringing tears to my eyes, while “How Long” turned into an extended jam, each artist taking a turn with the familiar melody. It was especially a treat to hear “Head is a House” (the lyrics complete the title with the brilliantly aching “I’d be ashamed to take you home to”) and a couple other songs that don’t get out much and when they do it is amidst the drunken hubbub of a night at Mickey’s.
Mad Toast Live’s interesting format gives you a chance to not just hear an artist, but also to get to know them, I’d be interested to stop in another Tuesday night and see someone I don’t know as well.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Sunday, October 05, 2008
The Cardinals; October 5, 2008; Overture Hall
After seeing Ryan Adams and the Cardinals at the Barrymore a year ago I claimed I didn’t need to see him for another six years, and meant it. Yet here I was… picking up tickets at Will Call. Of course, I wouldn’t have been going to the show had I not won a pair of $35 tickets only a few days before. I can say without hesitation that the best way to see Ryan Adams is for free, especially when these seats were much better than the ones I would have been able to buy myself.
Since the band’s last visit they have apparently started their own religion, since I’m guessing that Cardinology (also the name of their new release) is something akin to Scientology. They certainly already have their share of believers. Every level of the theater held legions of enthusiastic fans, many of whom remained standing, and dancing, for the entire show. They also couldn’t seem to resist letting Adams know how they felt, yelling things like “I love you Ryan” during the quiet spaces between songs. Many of those professing their feelings were dudes, and I had to agree with one shouted observation, “Hey Ryan, this is weird.”
The band was billed solely as “The Cardinals,” and that seems fair, if somewhat surprising. While Adams is certainly the most recognizable one, the unit is definitely a band. They sound absolutely terrific together; the multi-part harmonies were stunning throughout the night and took advantage of the perfect sound in the Overture. Guitarist Neil Casal was behind most of the backing vocals and at one point even took over on “Freeway to the Canyon.” The rest of the set drew from Adams’ entire catalog of solo records, even including a couple from Heartbreaker which is the only one you’ll ever hear me admit to liking. Sure I would have liked to hear some of the old Whiskeytown stuff, but I would never be as stupid as that guy in the balcony to yell for any of those songs. “You’re about 11 years late for that song,” Adams scoffed, saying it sucked when he wrote it, adding “I’m not saying that just to be a prick… OK, kind of as a prick.”
Most of the conversation Adams had was with the rest of the band or into a special microphone which I’m guessing went to the sound guy. With a ring of monitors in front of him (plus one in his ear) and six amps behind him, I’m guessing they had a lot to talk about. But if they really did have a list of songs they “traveled all this way to play” did they really need to discuss each one before they played it? Other than the two Classic Tawnies songs they did (“Let It Ride” and “A Kiss before I Go”) the lone cover of the night was also probably my favorite song. It’s probably not a coincidence that he chose Oasis’ “Wonderwall,” since not only have the Cardinals played with them on this tour, but it may be the only band better known for bad behavior than Adams.
There’s no denying that Adams can write a killer pop song, my complaint with him has always been his humorlessness, his gigantic ego and his propensity to be a dick. Luckily tonight there was more of the former and very little of the latter.
After seeing Ryan Adams and the Cardinals at the Barrymore a year ago I claimed I didn’t need to see him for another six years, and meant it. Yet here I was… picking up tickets at Will Call. Of course, I wouldn’t have been going to the show had I not won a pair of $35 tickets only a few days before. I can say without hesitation that the best way to see Ryan Adams is for free, especially when these seats were much better than the ones I would have been able to buy myself.
Since the band’s last visit they have apparently started their own religion, since I’m guessing that Cardinology (also the name of their new release) is something akin to Scientology. They certainly already have their share of believers. Every level of the theater held legions of enthusiastic fans, many of whom remained standing, and dancing, for the entire show. They also couldn’t seem to resist letting Adams know how they felt, yelling things like “I love you Ryan” during the quiet spaces between songs. Many of those professing their feelings were dudes, and I had to agree with one shouted observation, “Hey Ryan, this is weird.”
The band was billed solely as “The Cardinals,” and that seems fair, if somewhat surprising. While Adams is certainly the most recognizable one, the unit is definitely a band. They sound absolutely terrific together; the multi-part harmonies were stunning throughout the night and took advantage of the perfect sound in the Overture. Guitarist Neil Casal was behind most of the backing vocals and at one point even took over on “Freeway to the Canyon.” The rest of the set drew from Adams’ entire catalog of solo records, even including a couple from Heartbreaker which is the only one you’ll ever hear me admit to liking. Sure I would have liked to hear some of the old Whiskeytown stuff, but I would never be as stupid as that guy in the balcony to yell for any of those songs. “You’re about 11 years late for that song,” Adams scoffed, saying it sucked when he wrote it, adding “I’m not saying that just to be a prick… OK, kind of as a prick.”
Most of the conversation Adams had was with the rest of the band or into a special microphone which I’m guessing went to the sound guy. With a ring of monitors in front of him (plus one in his ear) and six amps behind him, I’m guessing they had a lot to talk about. But if they really did have a list of songs they “traveled all this way to play” did they really need to discuss each one before they played it? Other than the two Classic Tawnies songs they did (“Let It Ride” and “A Kiss before I Go”) the lone cover of the night was also probably my favorite song. It’s probably not a coincidence that he chose Oasis’ “Wonderwall,” since not only have the Cardinals played with them on this tour, but it may be the only band better known for bad behavior than Adams.
There’s no denying that Adams can write a killer pop song, my complaint with him has always been his humorlessness, his gigantic ego and his propensity to be a dick. Luckily tonight there was more of the former and very little of the latter.
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