Jason Collette/Bahamas/Zeus; April 6, 2010; Majestic Theater

Years ago I bought a Moxy Fruvous T-shirt that proclaimed “I Love Canadian Boys.” While Moxy Fruvous has been gone for many years now, that sentiment rang true tonight. Canadians Jason Collette, his former backing band Zeus and singer/songwriter Bahamas have been touring together on something called the Bonfire Ball which stopped in Madison tonight. The last time Collette was in town he was opening a sold out show at the High Noon for the inexplicably popular Feist. I was lucky enough to win tickets to that show, which made it very easy to leave when it became clear that I couldn’t be in the same room as her caterwauling. Collette’s set however was charming and entertaining as he rocked like Paul Westerberg to songs from a record that sounds a lot like Josh Rouse. I couldn’t wait to see him again.

Apparently he didn’t make such a lasting impression on the 400 other people who had been at that show because the Majestic Theater was sadly empty. Foolishly I had bought tickets six days before the show, convinced I wasn’t going to win tickets this time and worried it was going to sell out. Four days before the show I got the e-mail saying I’d won, and so did everyone else I know. Even with so many people getting in for free, I heard later that they had gone over to the Local and handed out free tickets to get more people in the door. Instead of feeling stupid about it, I ended up being glad that I had bought a ticket. After all, someone had to show that they care. And more importantly, it was totally worth it.

The show began with a tall skinny dude who looked suspiciously like Collette approaching the microphone. It was. I was confused- this is not how it is supposed to work. If he plays first, the few people here will leave. He played a song solo before inviting the rest of the musicians to join him, and then he left and Zeus played a few songs of their own, and then Bahamas played a solo song, then one with Zeus’s drummer, and then the rest of them came back. It was well choreographed, musicians moved on and off stage, the members of Zeus switching spots and playing a different instrument almost every time.

Collette played what are probably my two favorite songs of his “We All Lose One Another” and “I’ll Bring the Sun,” both from 2005’s Idols of Exile, the first time he was on stage, and I was worried the rest of the set would be disappointing. It wasn’t, the new material from Rat A Tat was just as infectious. While Collette’s was the only music I was familiar with before the show, Zeus proved to be his equal. The three front members of the band all sang, and as they switched off lead vocals, their harmonies were impeccable. From the harmonies to the songwriting, to the very awesome mustache one of them sported, there was something very Beatle-esque about them. I bought their latest release Say Us, and it’s been in constant rotation since the show. Their encore cover of Genesis’s “That’s All” was so awesome I couldn’t decide if it was tongue in cheek or sincere, though I’m not sure it matters.

About midway through the show Collette encouraged the audience to move closer, and a dozen or so of them did. Given their state of intoxication, and knowing what I know now, I’m willing to bet that they were some of the lucky patrons from the Local who got in free. Apparently we weren’t the only ones entertained by them, one of Zeus’s guys pointed out “there are only six people here and three of them are making out! We love Madison.” He was right, we’d been ridiculously entertained by an unlikely threesome dancing in front of us for half the night, and it was impossible to tell which of the two nerds the cute girl was there with.

Frustratingly, Collette and company played at least six times at SXSW, and I missed them every time, though I am pretty sure it was Zeus guy’s mustache that led to me texting “There are so many awesome mustaches here” to a friend. Even though their experience this time wasn’t as positive as their first, I hope this time they don’t wait so long to come back. I know an awesome little club they can play.

Meat Puppets/Porcupine/Czarbles; April 3, 2010; The Warehouse, La Crosse

Kurt Cobain did his best to introduce the world to the Meat Puppets, but despite covering two of their songs during Nirvana’s appearance on MTV Unplugged, his idols still remain under most people’s radar. Surprisingly, they don’t seem to mind much, and every couple years they release a new record and hit the road with an ever-changing line-up. The only constant for the last thirty years has been lead singer/guitarist Curt Kirkwood. Even though the band was founded by Curt and his brother Cris, the latter’s drug problems led Curt to force him out of the band on more than one occasion. In fact, the only other time I’d seen the Meat Puppets many years ago at O’Cayz Corral Cris’s part was being played by Son Volt’s Andrew Duplantis. Tonight though, they were a happy family, with the brothers being joined by Shandon Sahm on drums. While his eye liner drew my suspicions earlier, he quickly proved himself behind the kit. Which shouldn’t be surprising given his musical heritage, his father was Doug Sahm. Coincidentally, Shandon was also the drummer when I saw them at O’Cayz.

The Meat Puppets played an impressively solid set; their only mistake was going on too long. “The set ended twenty minutes ago,” Curt explained, “We’re just screwing around now.” An encore that devolved into random sloppily played covers proved his point, but that couldn’t obscure what they had accomplished already. The two songs that Nirvana had made famous, the warbling “Birds” and “Lake of Fire,” sounded infinitely stronger in their hands. The fact that Curt had chosen to wear sweatpants to the show seemed an odd decision, but he was anything but lazy on the guitar. While Chris doesn’t have the voice of his brother, his turns on lead vocal were forgettable, the band sounded best when the two sang together. The high point of the set was a blistering version of “Backwater” that proved Cobain knew what he was talking about. The upstairs all-ages venue in a town that doesn’t see a lot of touring bands seemed an unlikely spot for the band, but they had played here once before and apparently liked it enough to come back.

The other two bands on the bill were no strangers to the La Crosse stage. Porcupine had formed from the remnants of local band Space Bike, a group I hadn’t thought about in years, but that I remembered really liking back when they used to pop up in Madison clubs fairly often. Their newest member was a smiling hulk of a man behind the drum kit. The goofy grin he flashed throughout their set was charming and endearing. I didn’t know it, but the members of Madison’s Czarbles grew up in La Crosse and bassist Matt explained that his high school bands used to open shows there all the time. This was my first time witnessing their precise instrumental rock, a visceral pummeling that lasted just long enough to leave you wanting more. I’d always been intrigued by their mellifluous moniker, which begs you to say it over and over, but now I’m just as interested in seeing them play again. It seems a bit odd that I went all the way to La Crosse to finally see a band from Madison, but sometimes that’s just the way it works out. And it was totally worth it, for the show and for the fantastic assortment on non-alcoholic beverages the Warehouse carries.
Czarbles






Porcupine





Meat Puppets

The Low Czars; March 31, 2010; High Noon Saloon

Steve Poltz/Robby Schiller; March 30, 2010; Kiki’s House of Righteous Music

Austin’s annual SXSW music conference often serves as the beginning of a tour for many bands. It always seems like the most visible bands during the five day overload of music head out on the road at its conclusion, gradually filtering north. Steve Poltz played what seemed like dozens of shows in Austin this year, and somehow I managed to miss every one of them. Of course, if you weren’t Ha Ha Tonka or Califone, it was likely I was going to miss you. But I also had the comfort of knowing that he was coming to my house in just a matter of days.

When I booked the show many months before, I thought I was booking a solo show. However, a few days prior, his booking agent e-mailed me to let me know that instead of just Steve there would be a three piece backing band and a sound guy/tour manager. Not a problem of course, I’ve had plenty of full bands in the basement, and I was more than a little relieved that he was bringing his own sound guy since this was a Tuesday and my usual sound guy Blake Thomas had his own weekly gig to attend to. I’ll admit to a little bit of sound board envy, not only did Chris Modl have a much bigger board, but he also had a snake that allowed him to run sound from the back of the room. Even more impressive was what he did with his board. At the end of the show, he copied the entirety of the Poltz show to a flash drive that you could purchase for $25. Brilliant.

I’ll admit though, it would be hard to imagine the audio of the show being as good without the visual. Poltz is tall and lanky, longish graying hair held in place by a sharp hat, a goofy smile, and a unique stage presence. He had broken his hand skiing in Canada less than two months before (even worse, on the eve of two sold out shows there), and he was restricted to playing guitar on only a few songs each night. That’s where the band came in. While the Truckee Brothers rhythm section of drummer Patrick Dennis (who also played an opening set of music from his band Wirepony) and bassist Chris Huffee had backed Poltz before, guitarist Sean was brought along because he was the only person Poltz knew who could learn all his songs in just a few days. When Poltz wasn’t playing guitar or strumming the bass while Sean did the finger work (looking like a bizarre conjoined bass player), he was dancing like a manic scarecrow, suit jacket flapping, heels kicking high.

His enthusiasm was so great that on one occasion he found himself tumbling into the seats, managing to stay upright with the help of the other person in the basement who was recovering from a broken bone. Once he was reminded of the injury, he apologized profusely and burst into an impromptu song about how they were two broken birds living in a basement. Thanks to the flash drive she forever has a record of the night Steve Poltz wrote a song about her. Perhaps the most memorable moment of the night was “Sewing Machine Man.” Someone had challenged him to write a song with the words sewing machine in them. It took him awhile, but not only did he meet the challenge but he made it part of the title. He claims that the first time he played it for Jon Dee’s son Willie the poor kid ran from the room screaming halfway through. My only question was- why did it take him so long? I wouldn’t have made it past the first verse. His dark and twisted tale was like something from the Gothic Archies’ soundtrack to the Lemony Snicket movie “A Series of Unfortunate Events,” made even more intimidating by the way he acted it out. Now he says Willie begs him to play it, but I’m not so sure.

For the most part, it’s easier to remember his ridiculously entertaining show than it is the actual songs. They are good songs, but they don’t have a chance against the story of how after he broke his hand in Canada he had it set in a janitor’s closet by a “Dr Skully,” who may or may not have actually been a doctor. Or how he organized a Frazier Fair tour which included John Doe, Pete Droge and Glen Phillips in response to Lilith Fair.

If I do say so myself, the Blueheels’ Robby Schiller was an inspired choice as an opener. Contrary to his very vocal presence as frontman of one of Madison’s most popular bands, as a solo artist he concentrates on what he likes to call “sad bastard music.” Back when he was part of the weekly Honky Tonk Tuesday gig at Mickey’s I heard these songs every week. Now the chances to see him do songs like “The Wolves Outside,” “The Weather on TV,” and the surprisingly upbeat “Ukulele Blues” are rare. He’s always a quick wit, but I have seldom seen him as absolutely hilarious as he was tonight. In response to an audience member who said they would name his new and yet untitled song, he quipped, “I like Trinity for a girl.” As he ignored what may have been a slightly out of tune guitar, he claimed he knew how to tune a guitar, “I just choose not to.” On the other hand, apparently he has no idea how to tune the uke, which he used on two songs, theorizing that it was some sort of Zen process having something to do with his dog and fleas. The always-charming “Ukulele Blues” turned out to be a very successful sing-a-long, as the entire basement joined in on the chorus of “how can that be, cause baby I play the ukulele?”

Having a show on a Tuesday night can be a dicey proposition. Folks who are already timid about going to see a show in someone’s basement seem even more unlikely to come out during the week. Luckily Poltz’s reputation preceded him and we had a bigger group than we do most nights in the basement, and they were all treated to one hell of an entertaining evening.

Robby Schiller



Patrick Dennis


Steve Poltz & band