saved by music

Shannapalooza, you'd be crazy not to go.

2011-06-03T02:35:24Z

Five bucks.

It sure doesn't go as far as it used to.

What follows is a short list of things that you can purchase for $5:

1.25 gallons of gas
1.33 gallons of milk
3.875 songs on iTunes
2.86 tacos from Chando’s or 4 from Lalo's (Lalo's are better anyways)
1 foreign or microbrew at Streets of London, if it's happy hour
A large white mocha or caramel macchiato or pumpkin latte or whatever the hell the kids are drinking these days
.8333 $5 foot-longs from Subway ($5 foot-longs actually cost $6. It's tough all over.)
A Sunday Chronicle and a bagel with butter (maybe)
3 pictures of this chick with the slogan of your choice written on her face
1 picture of that same slogan on a piece of toast

Slim pickin’s, right? Fret not, for there is a place where $5 still has some real purchasing power. What if I told you, for $5, you could get seven hours of live music performed by some of the best bands Sacramento has to offer, all with an idyllic backdrop of the beautiful Sacramento River?

"Is this heaven?" you might ask, full of wonder.

"No," I would answer, affectionately tousling your hair. "It's just Shannapalooza."

This Saturday Swabbies Bar and Restaurant is hosting the fifth annual Shannapalooza. What started as a birthday party for friends and family in the woods is now one of the year's best showcases of local musical talent.

This year’s headliners are Sacramento pied-pipers of funk, The Nibblers. These soulful cats love to party, and they are celebrating the release of their brand spanking new album, "So Much Trouble," so you know they'll be at their rip-roaring best. Dancing shoes and party hats aren't required, but they are strongly recommended.

Walking Spanish will be filling the pre-Nibblers slot in the lineup. The same Walking Spanish that will have Nicki Bluhm and the Gramblers opening for them the following week at Concerts in the Park. The same Walking Spanish whose "Wishbones" I consider to be one of the best albums released this year by anybody, anywhere. These guys are no joke and put on an amazing show. See them now, because they aren't going to be a "local" band for much longer.

Joining my two favorite Sacramento bands on the bill are Indian from Pluto & Joe Byrd, Crossing the River and In the No, whose jammy-latin-jazz-fusion I've been listening to all afternoon and am fully smitten with.

Who says you can't get anything for $5 anymore?

Shannapalooza will be popping off (rain or shine) on Saturday, June 4th, from 3pm until 10pm ("or until the police shut [em] down").

Shannapalooza will be going down at Swabbies, 5871 Garden Highway, Sacramento.

Shannapalooza is an all ages show with a full service bar and restaurant.

Trampled by Turtles announces presence with authority

2011-05-23T23:22:51Z

The first time a band plays a gig in a new town can be a dicey proposition. It often takes a show, or three, for a band to build up the fanbase that they deserve. That first inroad into uncharted territory often results in half-filled venues without much intrinsic energy.

Thursday night, Harlow's hosted not one but two bands making their first ever Sacramento appearances: Duluth, Minnesota's Trampled by Turtles and Nashville, Tennessee's The Apache Relay.

If you didn't know any better, you might have assumed that both bands had been playing here for years.

The venue, owing in large part to recent triumphant appearances by TBT at High Sierra and Coachella, and in very small part to the tireless hyping of the gig by one Sac Press communinity contributor, was brimming with fans.

The energy in the room was akin to a religious fervor.

One particularly ardent young fan, a blond girl at center stage, appeared at one point to be speaking in tongues. During Trampled's set, she made a point to shake hands with each one of her conquering heros, and responded to each touch as a religious zealot might respond to the touch of their earthly prophet himself.

So, yeah, the crowd was pumped up.

The Apache Relay took the stage at 9:20 PM and before the curtains were even fullly drawn they were well into "Power Hungry Animals", a pulsing, sing-along-able track that builds to a crushing crescendo. They followed that with a searing version of "American Nomad", which got the already buzzing crowd bouncing in earnest.

By the time lead singer Michael Ford Jr. introduced himself with a "This is our first time here in Sacramento, and it's awesome already!" TAR had the crowd, the vast majority of whom had never heard of The Apache Relay, let alone actually heard them, eating from the palm of his hand.

I don't know that I've ever seen a quicker audience domination by an unknown opener. These cats have the goods.

They maintained their energy throughout the nearly hour-long genre-bending set. They were at times grungy ("Home is not Places"), rythm-and-bluesy ("Watering Hole"), indie-y ("Lost Kid"), but they never lost the crowd, who'd come to see Minnesota thrashgrass.. When Ford, Jr. addressed the crowd again towards the end of the set "I just want to say I love you so much! This is incredible!", the crowd responded in kind.

When Relay's set ended the crowd response was so long and rambunctious that I half expected the kids from Tennessee to come out for an encore. They did not, but they could have, and that speaks volumes.

At 10:28 PM, the boys from Duluth took the stage, each of them carrying a PBR tallboy in addition to their weapon of choice. They began playing the opening strains of "Separate", a track off of their most recent album, 2010's tour-de-force Palomino, and we were off to the races.

In fact, the first three songs of the evening were off Palomino. "Victory" featured an epic fiddle solo that inspired some serious do-si-do-ing by some of the more exuberant audience members, and got pretty much everyone up and hopping.

The third song of the evening, the primal, pulsing, "It's a War", pushed the crowd already teetering on the edge of extatic fervor over the brink. As the men on stage violently strummed their instruments into submission, the men and women in the crowd went into a full-blown tizzy, where it remained for the bulk of the 19 song, 75 minute set.

At one point, following a rip roaring version of "Darkness and the Light", again off Palomino, Banjo player Dave Carroll could be heard requesting a shot of Jack Daniels from no one in particular. Someone in the crowd, (no one in particular. . .) took it upon himself to make that happen. A few moments later there were five shots of JD lined up on the side of the stage. Between songs, the shots were passed down, the band members raised their glasses to the crowd, then to each other, and to uproarious applause threw back the shots.

They chased the shots with an epic instrumental medley of "New Son/Burnt Iron", the former being meandering and lovely, the latter blistering and percussive. The two together make a wonderful juxtapposition, though both are more than good enough to stand on their own merit, the brilliant pairing ends up greater than the sum of it's parts.

They closed the set with their most popular song off Palomino, the beautifully infectious "Wait So Long", which might be melencholy with poignant lyrics like "I could never pretend that I don't love you, you could never pretend that I'm your man" but is such a humdinger of a song that it's hard to listen without a smile taking ownage of your face.

They left the stage at 11:40 PM to applause that did not waver for the seven minutes that went by before Dave Carroll came out to take a picture of the crowd. He was joined moments later by the rest of the band who proceeded to absolutely annihilate a cover of The Pixies "Where is my Mind". I always think of the final scene in Fight Club when I hear this song, which plays as the buildings blow up all around Tyler Durden. . . so it was a fitting that they burned Harlow's to the ground with it, metaphorically speaking. They followed it up with an older track of theirs, "Whiskey", before leaving the stage again at midnight.

Once again, the applause was raucous and unwavering, and six minutes later, the band returned to the stage for a second encore. Simonett acknowledged the crowd "We've never played in Sac before, we didn't know what to expect". Unsaid, but reasonably inferred from their decision to play a second encore, during which each band member took an extended solo, was that they were more than impressed by what they'd found here.

I'm pretty sure they'll be back.

Trampled by Turtles

2011-05-17T21:57:36Z

High Sierra Music Festival 2010 was one of the highlights of my young life, and one of the highlights of High Sierra Music Festival 2010 was Trampled by Turtles.

So, by the transitive property, Trampled by Turtles effin rock, and you'd be a fool not to check out the Minnesota thrashgrass maestros when they visit Harlow's Thursday night.

"Yes, you in the back, in the "Beck" t-shirt?"

"It's Billy. What, the Hell, is Minnesota thrashgrass?"

"Well, Billy, I'm glad you asked. Minnesota thrashgrass is bluegrass, as played by the AK47-weilding future viking straddling the space unicorn on the side of this van."

"Could you extrapolate on that a bit?"

"Sure can Billy! TBT are a classic five piece bluegrass band. Guitar, bass, banjo, fiddle, and mandolin. They play bluegrass music, but they play fast. Really fast. And dirty. Really dirty. I thought I made that clear with my space viking analogy. . . "

"Sounds gimmicky"

"That's enough out of you, Billy. Face the corner, put the "idiot" cap on. You know the drill. TBT's 2010 album, Palolmino, was, in my humble opinion, one of the best albums of the year. It is chock full of supremely catchy, heart-filled, beautiful songs. (Beautiful songs that make you wanna slap bags of Franzia and gargle bourbon, but beautiful songs nonetheless). I defy you to listen to "Wait So Long" or "Help You" without tapping your toes, fingers, and anything else you've got available to you. Class dismissed. Not you Billy."

As good as their album is, their live performances are better. I'm driving two hours back up to Sacramento for the show, and I'd drive further. This is going to be a humdinger of a barnburner. I can't wait.

Trampled By Turtles is playing Harlow's Nightclub, Thursday the 19th, 9:00PM. Tickets are $12.00.

Be sure to get there on time, because Nashville's indie-bluegrass-rockers, The Apache Relay, are opening, and all signs point to them being dope as well.

I'll see you on the dance floor.

Walking Spanish at The Torch

2011-04-20T02:19:04Z

It's not every day you get a chance to see the next big thing before they blow up.

It's more like every fourth or fifth day. . . depending on how many gigs Walking Spanish is playing that week.

This week, four is the magic number. They are playing Wednesday night at The Torch Club, following up Saturday night's gig at The Naked Lounge.

Walking Spanish recently released my favorite album of 2011, "Wishbones," and may not be long for venues as small and awesome as these.

Alex Nelson (lead singer, guitarist and songwriter) and the boys (Timothy Picchi on bass, Christopher Haislet on keys, Robert Mills II on drums and Thomas Gunterman on violin) put on a phenomenal, high-energy rock show, peppering their staggeringly good original material with a variety of tasty covers that included Mother Hips, Allman Brothers and Depeche Mode.

These guys are going to be stars. I'm going to be able to say that I saw them "way back when." Will you?

Walking Spanish plays the Torch Club on Wednesday, April 20. Tickets are $4.00.

You read that correctly.

I'll see you on the dance floor.

Yonder Mountain High.

2011-04-20T01:07:45Z

It is a rare treat to see a band play at a venue that they have long since outgrown.

On a tour filled with dates at places like the Fillmore (capacity: 1,250) and Montbleu Resort (1,400), bluegrass behemoth Yonder Mountain String Band stopped in Sacramento for the first time ever and played a nearly packed house at our very own Harlow's. Capacity? 300 and change.

It was amazing.

"We're gonna have some fun tonight!" frontman and mandolinist Jeff Austin proclaimed a few songs into the first of two rollicking sets.

"This is the most intimate show we've played in a long, long time."

As you might expect, this proclamation was met with an enormous, prideful roar from the gathered throng. I would venture that it was a near perfect crowd. The venue was full, but not impassable. The route from the back bar to the restrooms, though crowded, was navigable. The fans that had come were fully aware of how lucky they were to be there, and what we lacked in numbers, we made up for in enthusiasm.

"They are amazing" said a clearly stoked Maya, who was losing her Yonder V-Card that evening.

Maya’s friend Erin, a vet of numerous shows, added, "I haven't seen them in like four years. I feel like a real asshole."

A couple of songs into the second set, at the end of an extended jam on the rollicking, guitar driven "Damned if the right one didn't go wrong," the crowd reached a level of ecstasy that I don't think I've ever seen at Harlow's. It was the loudest and most lengthy applause that I have been a part of in my 20 (30?) odd shows.

It was chill inducing and the boys on stage were eating it up. "If you're having even a portion of the fun that we're having, then you're having a great time," Austin said before adding, "Why haven't we played here before?"

The worlds funkiest string quartet made up for lost time with nearly three hours of incredibly high energy Colorado jam-grass, and one of the best shows I've seen this year.

If Sunday night's show was any indication, their first Sacramento show most certainly won't be their last. I just hope they don't further outgrow Harlow's before their next visit.

Man, what a treat.

An evening with Yonder Mountain String Band!

2011-04-16T23:37:35Z

This Sunday Harlow's nightclub continues it's spring-long blitzkrieg of High Sierra Music Festival performers, once-and-future, with Colorado's pied-pipers of bluegrass rock, Yonder Mountain String Band.

"Yonder Mountain String Band has always played music by its own set of rules. Bending bluegrass, rock and countless other influences that the band cites, Yonder has pioneered a sound of their own."

Yonder has been a stalwart on the festival circuit for more than a decade, playing their unique brand of feel-good jamgrass for massive crowds at Bonnaroo, Rothbury, Austin City Limits, Telluride Bluegrass Festival and their own Northwest String Summit.

I, and about 200,000 of my closest friends, caught their set at Hardly Strictly Bluegrass last fall. You notice I didn't say I saw their set, cause I couldn't see shit.

I can't even tell you how excited I am to actually see them at a venue as intimate as Harlow's.

Aside from their festival appearances, this is a band that sells out the 9,450 seats at Red Rocks Amphitheatre, and will be playing two nights next week at the Fillmore in San Francisco (1,250 capacity).

Getting two full sets (No opener! All Yonder, all the time!) at our very own 350 person venue is going to be a real treat.

Yonder Mountain String Band at Harlow's, Sunday, April 17th, 9:00PM.

Tickets are $25.00

I'll see you on the dance floor.

The Gregory Brothers and YouTube's Digitour

2011-04-16T02:07:10Z

YouTube's Digitour rolled into Sacramento Thursday night, planting its two gigantic tour buses on J Street for an early show at Harlow's.

The Digitour features a menagerie of the ubiquitous site's biggest musical celebrities (over 1 billion views between ‘em!).

Now, I consider myself fairly Internet-savvy for a 32-year-old. I mean, I surf the interwebs ... a lot. My myriad of Facebook friends, many of whom I've never met, would probably say too much. I have a blog that I haven't updated in eight months. I know about both "Charlie the Unicorn" and "Charlie bit my finger." I've created numerous memes of varying quality. I've even had a taste of Internet celebrity. I'm plugged in.

Or so I thought.

I only recognized one name on the Digitour roster, but what a name it was: the undisputed heavyweight champion of the worldwidewebs, the Gregory Brothers. The Gregory Brothers are the (mad?) geniuses behind "Auto Tune the News" and "The Bed Intruder Song," among others. As far as I'm concerned, they are the best thing to happen to the Internet since sliced bread. (ed. note: what?)

I was really excited to see how "Turtle Fence" translated to a seven-piece live band.

But first, there were the other YouTube stars about whom I had been (blissfully?) ignorant prior to Thursday night's show.

Leading off the show was Savannah Outen, a pretty blonde with a good voice. She sang Bruno Mars and Jesse James covers, along with some originals. You know what I like better than Jesse James? Dentist appointments.

It's not you, Savannah. It's me.

Between the acts, they played videos on a large monitor next to the stage. The videos varied from kind of funny but annoying (the aptly named “Annoying Orange”) to gouge-out-your-ears-and-eyeballs annoying (the first video they showed sounded like wacky drive-time radio for ‘tweens. Just the sound of it literally made me nauseous). There is something called “Smosh” on YouTube that has something like 148 bazillion views. They're like a slightly older Fred, but there's two of them. Ugh.

Back to the music. . .

Ricky Ficarelli is an extremely talented young drummer. He'll be able to write his own ticket. Mystery Guitar Man is pretty good at looping, playing multiple instruments and layering beats. Think Keller Williams for teenage — well, I don't know, Internet fans? When I was a teenager I was listening to Phish.

Destorm is a talented MC, as displayed on a "Random Topic" freestyle rap based in part on crowd suggestions ("401 K!" "Golden retrievers!" "Tech support!" "Skittles!") and a live Twitter feed (technology, it's what's for dinner) that was running on the stageside monitor.

The closing act of the night was Dave Days and his band, including the aforementioned Ficarelli. They too were clearly talented, but not at all my bag. I saw a girl wearing a shirt that read "Dave Days Makes My Favorite Songs Better." "Dave Days Makes My Least Favorite Songs Slightly Less Grating!" would be more apropos in my case.

Which brings us to the Gregory Brothers. The seven-piece came out to the biggest applause of the evening and went into "Winning – A Song by Charlie Sheen."

I had been a little unsure about how their songs would translate to a live performance. Much of the singing on their hits is done by "unintentional singers": celebrities, politicians, cable news anchors, talking heads, or, most famously, Antoine Dodson, whose words are auto-tuned and set to music.

What I quickly realized, as Mike Gregory rapped about banging 7-gram rocks and the whole gang harmonized behind him is that the G. Bros. are much better singers than their autotuned cohorts. Ultimately, their songs wouldn't be so popular if they weren't good, catchy songs to begin with. And, as such, they are much improved when the brothers cut out the unintentionals.

Up next was "Rent Is Too Damn High! Song," their impassioned ode to Jimmy McMillan and his titular New York political party.

From there they went into their dance sensation, "Backin’ Up Song," dedicated to Diana of Kansas City. It's seriously a great dance song when performed live. As with all of their tracks, not only did it not lose anything in translation to the live show, it gained something. It gained a lot, actually.

Up next was "Turtle Fence," my favorite song of theirs going into the show. You bet your ass there was a killer keytar solo in the middle of it.

"Charles Rangel Sings for Mercy" is a huge, almost anthemic song. Don't leave Chuck swinging in the wind until November.

"Mommy and Daddy" becomes an awesomely soulful R&B song with beautiful harmonies and Sarah G. killing the lead vocal.

"Bed Intruder" brought the house down. You can run and tell that, homeboy.

I assumed that "B.I." would be their last song of the evening, but you know what they say about assumptions.

They closed instead with "Double Rainbow" which had somehow evaded me up to that point. Remember when I called "Charles Rangel" anthemic earlier? That was before I heard this. If "C.R." is anthemic, than "D.R." is double anthemic. When they turned it into an epic crowd sing-along, building to an ecstatic crescendo, it started to sound triple anthemic.

Intense.

Orgone and The Nibblers, together at last.

2011-04-14T00:00:42Z

or·gone n. A universal life force, a cosmic unit of energy, the creative force in nature.

Orgone n. A banging nine piece soul/funk ensemble from Los Angeles.

A staple on the festival circuit (High Sierra Music Fest, Moe.down, South by Southwest, Jazzfest, to name a few) Orgone has opened for the likes of Al Green and Sharon Jones, and toured with the Roots and Greyboy Allstars.

"With a rooted sense of funk, soul, afrobeat, deep rhythms and an intimate understanding of dj culture as well as each others' individual talents, Orgone seamlessly slides through multiple styles and dynamic performances. The group continuously injects whatever they play with a heavy brand of raw funk power." (orgonespace.com)

They played an epic Harlow's show back in January with local favorites Zuhg.

Thursday night, they make their triumphant return to the Midtown uber-venue with local possibly-even-more-favorites, our own merry band of funkateers, The Nibblers.

I thought it was an inspired pairing last time. This time it's a stroke of genius.

If you happened to catch one of The Nibblers' last few Harlow's gigs, opening for soul-funk-superstars Big Sam's Funky Nation and Trombone Shorty, you know what a treat this show will be.

If you didn't, take my word for it.

There is nowhere else you wanna be on Thursday night.

Orgone and The Nibblers play Thursday night at Harlow's, 9:30 PM, immediately following the Youtube Digitour at 6:30 (Featuring the Gregory Brothers of "Turtle Fence" and "Bed Intruder" fame).

Tickets are $12.00, ($15.00 for Digitour).

I'll see you on the dance floor.

Chris Robinson Brotherhood (is not a cult)

2011-04-08T06:56:33Z

Chris Robinson Brotherhood played a show at Harlow's on Tuesday night in front of an exuberant and packed house.

CRB consists of the eponymous once and future Black Crowes frontman, Neal Casal (Ryan Adams) on guitar, Adam MacDougall (Black Crowes) on keys, George Sluppick (Robert Walter's 20th Congress, JJ Grey and Mofro) on drums and Mark "Muddy" Dutton (Burning Tree) on bass.

This was the eighth show on their spring-long pilgrimage throughout the Golden State, and I went into it not really knowing what to expect (other than a great show). As of this writing, youtube only has two videos of CRB, and one of them is a Black Crowes song.

I arrived at Harlow's ten minutes before 9pm, and to no ones surprise, the place was already jumping. Artists of Chris Robinson's stature don't often play at 300+ person clubs. I mean, The Black Crowes are the 92nd greatest hard rock band of all time. VH1 doesn't hand that out to just anyone.

The first thing I noticed upon entering the venue was a mammoth "California Republic" flag flying above and behind the stage, a tip of the cap to the only state that they'll be visiting on their whirlwind two month tour.

I began my pre-show ritual:

1) Hit up the restroom. Peeing during the show is for suckers. (The top of the toilet paper dispenser was covered in green shake. A precursor of things to come.)

2) Hit up the bar. (My beer of choice depends on the crowd. Fair to middling crowd, PBR. Packed house, Racer 5. On this night it was a Racer 5 with a bullet.)

3) Grab a smoke. Smoking during the show is for suckers. On my pilgrimage outside I met Josh, a jam band enthusiast and self described "square" who teaches in Elk Grove and has two kids. I thought I'd met him at Harlow's before, but he scoffed at the notion "nope, this is my one get out of jail card". With all the great jam bands that have been coming through Sac recently, it couldn't have been easy to decide on just one. I saw him later on the dance floor and it was clear that he'd chosen well.

4) Find my photographer. Taking your own pictures is for suckers. Steven had maneuvered his way to front and center, it looked like he'd be in great position to get some killer shots. Alas, it was not to be. Midway through the first set, Steven was approached by a large dreadlocked fellow I can only presume was a roadie for the band. The man informed Steven, in no uncertain terms, that there would be no professional photography on this night. It would be up to me and my spectacularly amateurish pointing and clicking to win the day. What a sucker.

At 9:19 in the PM, Chris and the boys took the stage. The crowd responded with a roar and more than a few clouds of marijuana smoke.

I was immediately struck by how much they look the part. If you saw CRB walking down the street, or at the movies, or painting your house, you would immediately recognize them as a rock band.

Sluppick was wearing a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles and a sports coat to go with his relatively kempt mane. Macdougall had a classic scraggly rocker look with his long hair, beard and many-zippered brown leather jacket. Casal went with a flannel shirt and red corduroy pants to complement his shaggy hair and grey-tinged beard. Dutton sported the ubiquitous rockstar black snap-down collared shirt with jeans that belled ever so slightly at the bottom. The look befitted his Brian May-esque coif perfectly. Which brings us to Robinson. All the other outfits, though screaming "Musician! Rocker! Keep that guy away from my drugs!" could conceivably have been worn by laypeople. I have trouble imagining anyone but a rockstar wearing Chris Robinson's shirt.

Flowing pink tie-dyed open collared shirts just aren't done by "normies". And if you think for a second that he was wearing shoes, you haven't been paying attention.

They opened with an original song called "Tulsa Yesterday", and it became immediately clear that they sounded the part at least as well as they looked it. As they would throughout the evening, to the delight of Josh the "square", they extended the jam to great lengths. "Tulsa Yesterday" featured an epic psychedelic Moog organ solo that really stood out.

After the first song, Robinson chopped it up a bit with the crowd, "I've hit my head on the microphone twice already!" he said, illustrating the point by accidentally-on-purpose hitting his head on it again. "Just a reminder" he joked "The Brotherhood is not a cult, but it would be nice to get tax exempt status".

Up next was their first cover song of the evening, a rip-roaring honky-tonked out take on Bob Dylan's "Tough Momma". "TM" featured another rollicking pedaled-out Moog solo and extended jam with all of the musicians showing off their prodigious chops. It was the second of what would be five 10-minute songs in a row to start off the show.

They returned to the new original stuff with their third song of the evening, the slower, pleading "Beware". This was the one original CRB song that I'd heard before, and it's lovely. At one point, Robinson was singing nearly unaccompanied with just the sparsest musical backing. It was a beautiful, but momentary, interlude before the whole gang came crashing back in.

They mined the gargantuan well-spring of source material that is the Grateful Dead oevre for their next song of the evening, "They Love Each Other". They really knocked this bluesy rocker out of the park. It may have been partly due to my vantage point (right in front of the keyboards) but once again I found myself particularly struck by Macdougal's keyboard wizardry. Just a wonderful song, played both expertly and with great soul.

Possibly in honor of the song's originators, a joint was thrown on stage by an audience member during the Dead cover. It was put aside, whether to be smoked later or discarded later, well, your guess is as good as mine. I didn't see the band smoke it, but I didn't see the band not smoke it either.

As they began their next song, another original called "Star or Stone", Steven was called out by the dreadlocked brownshirt, and decided to take off. I was on my own.

"Tomorrow Blues" was one of my favorite songs of the evening, a raucous blues number that featured a sick Moog solo seemingly culled from the furthest reaches of outer space. Phenomenal.

They capped off the set with a couple songs that were familiar to the Chris Robinson true believers in the crowd. "Appaloosa", the aforementioned Black Crowes song, is a heartfelt ode and was a crowd favorite. They followed that with "40 Days", a hard driving rocker from Chris Robinson and The New Earth Mud, Robinson's side band the last time the Crowes went on an extended hiatus. It was the most searing track of the first set and sent the crowd into a tizzy heading into the break. A sign of things to come.

The band left the stage at 10:34, having taken a cool hour and fifteen minutes to play 8 songs. They don't scrimp on the jams, these cats.

They returned to the stage at 11:00 PM on the button, and proceeded to blow the doors off for another hour and a half. Nine songs this time, including the encore, a rousing version of Elvis's Blue Suede Shoes.

I am going to spare you the blow by blow break down of the second set, in part because I am 1300 words deep already, and in main because I was too busy cutting the rug a new one during the rousing second set to take anything more than the most elementary of notes ("Awesome!" "Epic!" and "guitarist put his flannel back on!" all appear in my second set scribblings")

The set list is pictured.

You'll get another chance to see them for yourselves when they return to Harlow's on May 3rd.

As good as they were on Tuesday, I expect they'll be even better with another month of shows under their belt.

Chris Robinson Brotherhood!

2011-04-05T05:35:41Z

Chris Robinson, the lead singer of blues rock legends The Black
Crowes, wasted little time finding a new gig when the band went on
hiatus following a six-night run in San Francisco at The Fillmore in
mid-December.

The Chris Robinson Brotherhood will be in town Tuesday night to play a
gig at Harlow's.

It will be the eighth night of a whirlwind 33-show spring tour of
California that started last week.

Joining Mr. Robinson in The Brotherhood are Neal Casal (Ryan Adams) on
guitar, Adam MacDougall (Black Crowes) on keys, George Sluppick
(Robert Walter's 20th Congress, JJ Grey and Mofro) on drums and Mark
"Muddy" Dutton (Burning Tree) on bass.

The band’s sparse website features a couple of drawings, the tour
dates and a note from the lead singer.

"We'll be playing a bunch of new songs I have been working on and will
be digging deep into what is happening at that musical moment. There
will be old stuff that I've done and a handful of covers that just
feel right. Please come with your good vibes, feel free to trip along
with the bouncing ball or just float away. Remember we all want great
gigs!"

We certainly do, and I fully expect one on Tuesday.

Chris Robinson Brotherhood will be playing at Harlow's on April 5 at 9:00 PM.

Tickets are $15.00.

See you on the dance floor.

Zach Deputy FTW.

2011-04-01T01:59:26Z

Zach Deputy brought his feel-good brand of island-infused drum ‘n' bass gospel ninja soul to Harlow's on Tuesday night, and it was outstanding.

One of the ways I can judge how good a show was is by how sore my legs are the following morning. I'm a dancer, you see. To paraphrase the great Dave Mustaine, dancing's my business, and business is good.

Tuesday night, at Harlow's, it was business time.

I woke up the next morning and could hardly walk. I also think I strained my smile muscles. It was a heck of a show.

I arrived at 8:30 p.m. to find Harlow's mostly empty, so I went upstairs to Momo's where folk rocker Dan Bern was finishing up his set.

What an unexpected treat that was. I caught three songs, including one, presumably called "This is the year-by-year home run totals of the great Barry Bonds," which was just that.

"In 1986, he hit 16 home runs. . . then 25, 24, 19, 33," and so on and so forth.

I really enjoyed the abridged set of catchy, funny, immediately sing-along-able folk songs. Bern and his acoustic guitar were accompanied by a banjo, harmonica and lap steel. The musicians had eschewed the corner stage, choosing instead to stake out a patch of floor in the center of the room from which to hold court. What would have been an intimate show regardless was suddenly far more so.

Next time Mr. Bern comes to town, it won't be blind luck that gets me to the show. It'll be clear-eyed intent. That boy's good.

About 15 minutes into my Dan Bern experience, I heard a pulsing beat coming from downstairs. Deputy's opening act, Chicago's Mighty Dub Killerz, had taken the stage. With great ambivalence, I bid adieu to Bern and the boys and headed down to Harlow's, more out of a sense of duty to you, dear reader, than an actual desire to trade out shows.

It was a very different scene downstairs.

Mighty Dub Killerz are a fairly hardcore electronica reggae dubstep act. Zach Deputy is about as laid back as they come, island breeze summertime soul-calypso reggae.

The reggae is about the only thing the two share, and they couldn't be further apart on the reggae scale.

If you were to draw a Venn diagram of the two acts’ respective fan bases, the 1 percent overlap would encompass me and about 15 other dudes.

Your typical Zach Deputy fan sees MDK, with their pounding bass, rib shaking "wompwompwompWOMPWOMPWOMP" and rapped lyrics like "I was innocent, ‘cause I was militant, we had to instigate a prison riot," and they are at the least perplexed, and quite possibly fearful.

Take Paul Mason, who wrote on Mr. Deputy's Facebook wall regarding the Sacramento show: "Any opening band tonight? I was at the show in SF at the Boom Boom Room, and I wouldn't want to experience that opener again..."

Some folks just can't handle the womp.

I thought it was great. I especially enjoyed their take on classics that they dubbed out and made their own. They did a dope riff on Peter Tosh's "Legalize It," which included a nod to Musical Youth's "Pass the Dutchie" ("How does it feel when you got no herb?") and another on Bob Marley's "Sun Is Shining" ( "To the rescue, here I am!").

Mine was the minority opinion, however. For the bulk of the set, I was the only person on the dance floor. I was joined sporadically by an extra crunchy, young tie-dyed couple who would gamely give it a go for a couple minutes at a time, before adjourning back to their seats.

It was basically an unfortunate pairing for the fans as well as the band. It's a shame, because there is a vibrant dustup scene in Sacramento, but they were all over at Townhouse, where Tuesday night happens to be Grimey (dubstep) night. Right town, right night, wrong venue. Two out of three ain't good.

To the relief of many, the set ended just after 9:30, and the squares could breath a little easier.

People kept steadily pouring in through the break, and what had been a nearly empty room when I had first arrived was nicely peopled by the time Big Zach took the stage just after 10 p.m.

Zach's a one-man band, and he has quite the control center/cockpit setup on stage. He is bracketed on either side by all manner of electronic gadgets and gizmos (not the technical terms, but I'm a greenhorn when it comes to the tools of his trade). I recognized one of them to be an electronic drum pad, but that was only because he was hitting it with a drumstick, and I was able to put two and two together.

In front of him a whole bouquet of microphones jut up at chin level. At his feet are a plethora of pedals that he uses to, among other things, record loops of himself which he then plays over. His live songs are kind of like jigsaw puzzles: you get one piece at a time, you keep putting them together until eventually you have a picture of dogs playing poker. Except, the picture is an amazing song, and there's no dogs playing poker (ed. note: What the hell are you talking about?).

He opened with "My Annie," a beautiful, yearning love song that really shows off his four-octave vocal range with some awesome, climbing scalelike singing and a bouncy beat.

Up next was "Valencia." He started out with a tight little guitar lick, added some strummed guitar, a little beat boxing and then some drums. By the time he starts singing in earnest, "I met her on the mountain, y'all," the crowd was in a minor tizzy, that became less so when he reached the titular chorus.

The crowd maintained their intensity level through a wailing jam on "All I Need," then tizzy became fervor on the fourth song of the evening, the uber-funky "Mama Just Dance."

He followed that with about the dirtiest tango song you'll ever hear in your life. "Way Down Tango" features Zach spitting hot fire over a bass-heavy and seriously infectious groove. This ain't your grandmother's tango.

After a blistering guitar solo to cap "Tango," he closed an epic first set with fan favorite and oh-so subtle "Tubesteak" ("You only want me for my tubesteak and my collared greens"). The fervor became even more fervent.

At 11:01 ZD left the stage for a relatively rare but well deserved Tuesday night set break.

You know how when an alcoholic stops drinking for years and then gets back on the sauce, the alcoholism returns as it would if they had been drinking the whole time they were sober? Zach Deputy is kind of like that, but with music. 11:31 he started up, not right where he left off, but where he would have been if he had never stopped in the first place. He obliterated the bluesy "Doctor Doctor" to open the second set, and bam, just like that, we were at fever pitch again.

There we remained the rest of the evening. "Act That Way" featured an extended instrumental intro that really showcased Zach's incredible musicianship. "That Girl" is another searingly soulful funk track that would get even your most died in the wool "stand there and watch" concertgoers getting loose.

"Mama Don't Preach" beat-boxed and jangled it's way into a rip-roaring "Most People Never Heard Real Music." Present company excluded, of course.

He closed the set with probably my favorite song of the evening, the ultimate "feel good song of the summer," for this summer and all others, "Coconut."

As big as the smiles in the audience were when Zach hit the sing-along "Oooah whoooooaaah, wash it in the water" refrain, the biggest and brightest smile in the place probably belonged to the man on stage.

At 12:38 he left the stage, only to return moments later for a two-song encore, which began with a crowd favorite, "Games," but closed with by far his slowest, most mellow song of the evening. Closing an encore with a really mellow song is a controversial move for sure. It was to the consternation of many in the audience who clearly wanted to end the evening with another barn burner, but I thought it was a nice, chill way to close the evening. Plus, I was pretty out of breath by that point.

Big Zach FTW.

Zach Deputy brings the sunshine.

2011-03-29T02:22:40Z

This past summer, for the first time, I attended the High Sierra Music
Festival in Quincy, Calif. It was, without a doubt, the best music
festival I have ever attended.

We have been lucky to have a steady flow of past and future High
Sierra performers coming through Sacramento recently, and the trend
continues Tuesday night.

Tuesday night, Harlow's plays host to High Sierra personified, the
"Gospel Soul Ninja" himself, Zach Deputy.

Although I do not have the official count, I estimate that the
one-man-super-band from South Carolina played 38 sets in the 72 or so
hours that he graced the Quincy Fairgrounds with his presence. You
couldn't swing a dead cat (or a kind-vegan-ganja-gooball, if you're not into swinging dead cats) without hitting Zach Deputy, mid guerilla-style RV rooftop set. It was amazing and wonderful.

On a weekend where the smile never left my face, my smile was never
bigger than when Deputy was performing. Take a look at a description
from Deputy’s website.

"Put simply, Zach Deputy does what is called live looping: layering
sounds through the magic of technology to create a full band effect.
He isn’t the only performer out there doing this, but he has taken the
technique to the next level. First and foremost, however, Zach Deputy
is a songwriter, a shredding guitarist and a soulful singer with a 4+
octave vocal range... He is a one man dance party..."

Deputy combines rock, reggae, hip hop, soul, calypso and dancehall to
create infectious tunes that demand you stand up and get down. He's like
the Pied Piper of happy-happy-fun-time. It might be a coincidence
that the sun is shining in Sacramento for the first time in weeks just
in time for Deputy’s arrival, but I doubt it.

Come to Harlow's Tuesday and ring in spring with music that will make
you feel like it’s summer.

Zach Deputy plays at 8:30 p.m. on Tuesday, March 29. Tickets are $12.
I'll see you on the dance floor!

Walking Spanish, "Wishbones"

2011-03-25T04:42:39Z

In late February I went to a show at Old Ironsides, my first. I had come to see Nicki Bluhm and the Gramblers, an Americana rock group from San Francisco that I had previously seen absolutely dominate a set at High Sierra Music Festival.

The other two acts on the bill were local bands Honyock and Walking Spanish. It's not surprising that a band with a nationwide reputation and fan base would enlist a couple local stalwarts to join them on stage and ensure a packed house.

What was surprising, to me at least, was that Walking Spanish wasn't opening for Nicki Bluhm. Nicki Bluhm was opening for Walking Spanish.

Knowing what an incredible show the Gramblers put on, I was skeptical (apprehensive?) that the young bucks would be able to follow them without being overshadowed. There are many a big name national act who would pale by comparison, and there's no shame in it. Nicki and the boys are just that good.

As it turned out, my concerns were unfounded. Alex Nelson (lead singer, guitarist and songwriter) and the boys (Timothy Picchi on bass, Christopher Haislet on keys, Robert Mills II on drums and Thomas Gunterman on violin) were more than up for the challenge. They played a phenomenal set, brilliantly opening with a Mother Hips cover, a nod to Tim Bluhm, founding member of the Hips, the Gramblers and Nicki's husband. They also played a Depeche Mode cover, which is always a good decision.

Where they really impressed, however, was with their original songs, many of which were from their upcoming album, "Wishbones."

Walking Spanish is throwing its "Wishbones" release party Friday at Old Ironsides. I was able to procure a copy of the album in advance, and boy howdy, it's a barn burner.

Their eponymous debut (2006) had flashes of brilliance, displaying their skill as musicians, but was raw, unpolished. Their new album has no holes. It is a complete work. "Wishbones" is the kind of album that you can listen to from start to finish, on repeat, and I've been doing just that.

The songs are fully developed. The solos and interludes are searing but restrained, integral to the songs. It's all about the songs on this record.

The album starts with "What If You Knew My Name?" a key-heavy toe-tapper whose poppy sensibilities belie its lamenting lyrics. The song is broken up with a fantastic instrumental interlude vaguely reminiscent of the "Layla" coda. Awesome.

Up next is "Sarah Marie," which is a great example of Nelson's growth as a songwriter. What begins as a slow, bluesy ode to the titular young lady becomes something very different. The song picks up pace steadily through the first four verses before entering an intermezzo momentarily reminiscent of San Francisco's Jellyfish, from which they emerge with crushing staccato power cords and then a prog rock guitar riff that leads back to whence they had come. It ends with Nelson issuing a warning, "Your days are numbered/ better start to count." All this in a 2:35 song. One of the best tracks on the album.

"Jacksin (Is Long Gone)" is another one. It's the rare rock song that makes good use of an accordion and has a bouncy, almost polka-esque theme running throughout. The song tells the story of a veteran who finds his lady with another man, with tragic results. Nelson extends himself as a storyteller on "Jacksin", and the band extends themselves as well with several instrumental interludes of varying styles.

"Sweet Cherry Lane" is a mournful, poignant ballad to love lost. "I watched the mountain crumble as your heart forgot my name," Nelson sings. "The picture frames are being emptied now/ what a cheap memory."

The album takes its name from the fifth track, "Counterfeit Wishbones." As good as it is on the album (very), the rollicking power rocker is better live, as it affords the band such an opportunity to extend the already crunchy instrumental jams, bringing the crowd to theretofore unfound heights. I remember it well from last month and look forward to seeing it again on Friday.

"Amor Vincit Omnia" proves that Nelson can write a love song that isn't mournful or tragic. Love conquers all. A beautiful sentiment and a beautiful song. (Upon closer inspection, it isn't entirely rainbows and sunshine after all. Nelson sings, "Rock and roll has tamed my soul, and left me smiling at the gallows pole." "Tiptoe through the Tulips" this ain't.

Another great song, "The Simple Moves," combines a rip-roaring Skynyrd-esque riff, with some soulful keys and poignant lyrics ("It's hard to be somebody when ‘somebody’ is your name"). The guitar-driven coda to this track would make the boys from Jacksonville proud.

"The Soldiers Lullaby" tells another sad tale, this of a soldier (natch) dying in battle and pining for his love. It's got an old-timey saloon feel to it, and I picture the protagonist losing his life somewhere in Europe during either the Great War or WWII. A beautiful love song that finishes on a hopeful note. "I'll build us a house in heaven to share," Nelson sings, channeling the young combatant, "and I'll wait, I'll wait for you there."

"Mama Don't Love Him" features an epic piano solo by Nelson's older brother, Jackie Greene, who also produced the album and contributes backing vocals, organ and tambourine at various junctures.

The album closes with its longest song, "Holiday Years." It's a super upbeat dance track about going on vacation.

Just kidding, it's a powerfully poignant and lovely ballad. Nelson sends us off with this: "Don't be afraid, don't be afraid, everything must change, I'll be gone/ so long."

It is a hell of an album, if a bit melancholy. Hey, it's the trials and tribulations in life that generally lead to the greatest pieces of art. Without it, you get this. Nobody wants that.

The "Wishbones" CD release party is at 9 p.m. on Friday.

Opening for Walking Spanish will be local rockers Prieta, about whom illustrious local music scribe Aaron Davis once said, "They'll knock your penis off, great band!" I'm seriously looking forward to them.

Tickets are $7.

I'll see you on the dance floor.

House of Floyd

2011-03-14T06:14:53Z

In the spring of 1994, Pink Floyd embarked on what would be their final world tour, in support of The Division Bell.

I was a sophomore in high school when they played their three-show April run at the Oakland Coliseum and had only recently discovered Floyd in earnest.

Which is to say, I had only recently begun to smoke pot.

I had yet to take acid and listen to/watch “Dark Side of the Moon” synced up with “The Wizard of Oz.” (Or “Alice in Wonderland,” or “Fantasia.” “Gone with the Wind?” I think what “Dark Side” really syncs up with is the acid.)

If they had come through Oakland in June, there is a good chance I would have joined my cooler friends (and our "cool" high school security guard John, who would open the parking lot gates for us at a price, usually a dip — there is a fine line between "cool" and "creepy") at the Coliseum for at least one of the shows.

Alas, my appreciation of Floyd and their tour dates didn't quite sync up, and I never got another chance to see them.

Saturday night at the Crest Theatre, I got something of a reprieve.

The House of Floyd, a Pink Floyd tribute band, was in town, and they offered up as close a facsimile of a classic Floyd show as you can hope to find today, with the possible (probable? certain? probably certain) exception of a Roger Waters gig.

I walked down to the Crest at around 7 p.m., dodging a brutally bastardized combination of Second Saturday lurkers and poop-faced premature St. Patty's Day pub-crawlers as I went. It was just like The Walking Dead out there, except instead of zombies hunting brains, it was jackholes hunting Irish car-bombs. I'm not sure which scenario unnerves me more. (Actually, the latter, because at least you can take a bat to the zombies.)

I was ecstatic when I reached the Crest, unbitten. I surveyed the scene, which was refreshingly free of green top hats, leprechaun vests, "Kiss me, I'm a moron” shirts and nearly all other trappings of the one-time religious, now sophomorically inebria-centric holiday which remained five days away.

The crowd at the Crest was as diverse a group of white people as you'll ever find.

College kids, 20-somethings, 30-somethings, middle-aged couples with their kids, aging hippies, aged hippies. It ran the gamut. Pink Floyd truly has a universal and timeless appeal (to white people).

After a $5.75 Negra Modela, I adjourned outside for a smoke, where I met Jillian and Bryan.

"I thought I was buying tickets for a Pink Floyd laser light show," Bryan said. "I didn't realize it was a live tribute band playing until later."

I took my seat in the auditorium at a couple minutes after 8 p.m.

At 8:09 p.m. the lights went down.

At 8:10 p.m., the band took the stage, the backdrop lit up with a shot of the moon, and through the speakers began the cacophonous intro of "Speak to Me/Breathe" — the heart beat, the clocks, the cash register, the creepily spoken line "I've always been mad. I know I've been mad, like the most of us are. It's very hard to explain why you're mad, even if you're not mad."

By the time the wailing came around and they entered into the meat of the song, I was covered in goosebumps.

"This is amazing!" was my first thought.

My second? "Man, I wish I was stoned right now."

I don't puff at shows I'm covering, even if it is offered (and it is, often). I try to pay great attention to detail in order to paint a more vivid picture and, hopefully, add to your enjoyment of the piece. In this case, dear reader, I feel I may have done you a disservice by being such a straight-edge weenie. I mean, this is freakin’ Pink Floyd we're talking about.

During the course of the evening, the movie screen behind the stage showed a wide variety of images, both familiar and un, that were often spliced with live video of the performers on stage. The common theme throughout? This would look awesome if you were baked right now. A few highlights, all from the first 10 minutes or so:

- One of the first images was of the words "ARE YOU TRIPPING?" with the letters slightly Dali-fied, as if to hammer the question home and increase the likelihood that your answer would be yes.

- Moments later, "Did everything just taste purple for a second?" Classic stoner move, switching a color for a taste or vice versa. I wished everything tasted purple for a second, but, alas, it did not.

- Toward the end of their second song of the evening, the Syd Barrett penned 1967 classic "Astronomy Domine," they started playing the Pink Elephant scene from "Dumbo," which is the first hallucinatory trip we are ever exposed to as children, and has been for more than three generations. And to top it off, it's a bad trip. The first time I watched it, I wigged out. "The pink elephants! They're everywhere! And they won't stop marching! Now one giant elephant is made out of hella little ones, and it's all up in my face! Get me out of here!". I was four.

- Giant melting mushrooms.

"Shine On parts 1-5", another goosebump-inducer, was up next, followed by "Keep Talking" off "The Division Bell". Sheri Showalter and Melissa Hartley, two backup singers who swayed rhythmically while nailing the many female singing parts in the P.F. oeuvre, really got a chance to shine for the first time on the latter number: "Why won't you talk to me? What are you thinking?" It was also the first song (of many) where Joe Bartone brought out the Frampton-y talk box.

The rest of the first set was a doozy: "Welcome to the Machine" led into "Mother," with lead guitarist/vocalist Pat Potter swapping out his electric axe for an acoustic. Since potter already had his acoustic out, Bartone swapped his electric for an epic "Wish You Were Here.”(the opening strains of which were strummed, recorded and used by me as my outgoing voicemail for about half of my junior year in high school. Their version was better.) They plugged in again for "Pigs (3 Different Ones)" and one of my all time favorites, "Have a Cigar", before re-entering "Shine On Pts 6-9" to close it out.

They left the stage at 9:19pm, and returned a little over 10 minutes later. They opened the second set with "Raving and Drooling" the opening song from their 1975 tour. Never recorded, it was changed to "Sheep" for at the Animals album.

They rejoined the mega-hit portion of the program for their next stretch, tapping Darkside with "Time" (more goosebumps), "Great Gig in the Sky" (holy amazing pipes! Sheri absolutely nailed the unreal wordless wailing vocal, laid down on the album by Clare Torry ), and "Money", the last of which afforded vocalist and keyboard player mark Showalter to show off his sizable saxophone chops.

Up next was a stretch from "the Wall", starting with "Another Brick 2", which led to the first dancer of the evening. A lone woman, about four rows back on the floor, at first danced by her seat, attempting, with no success, to start a trend. She soon recognized that she was fighting a losing battle and moved her one-woman dance party to the aisle. Across the venue, I stood up and danced next to the stage. Solidarity and whatnot.

She maintained her post through most of "Empty Spaces> What Shall We do Now?" before abandoning ship before "Young Lust" (The screen behind the band was playing the "Off with their heads/paint the roses red" scene from "Alice in Wonderland. Awesome.).

They finished the second set with "Run like Hell", which got the girl and a newfound partner back on their feet, cutting the rug in the aisle. At 10:19 the band left the stage, only to return 30 seconds later to cap off the evening with "Comfortably Numb", which was mind-blowing to hear live.

I don't know if it made up for my missing The Division Bell Tour, but seeing House of Floyd certainly eased the sting. The guys and girls in House of Floyd do an amazing job of recreating the huge, lush, layered soundscapes for which Pink Floyd is so known, and loved.

Now, it wasn't perfect:

-The laser show, considering Pink Floyd has become almost synonymous with them, was something of a disappointment: It probably would have been considered cutting edge about 30 years ago. Saturday, it was a little sad. They are doing amazing things with lasers these days. H.o.F could take a lesson from the electronica movement and bring their laser show up to date.

-The vocals weren't identical (Not Britishy enough?) to the source material, but what tribute band/replacement singer's are? (besides the Fillipino kid that Journey drafted to the bigs 'cuz he does a better Steve Perry than Steve Perry)

-The venue. Though beautiful, and lovingly restored, The Crest is not the best place to see a show. The sound is good, if a little bass heavy, but it just doesn't lend itself to dancing at all. If they took out the chairs on the floor, leveled off the ground in front of the stage and added a couple bars it could be something akin to a Warfied East. As it stands, The Crest more closely resembles John Lithgow's character in "Footloose".

Minor quibbles all, none of which I took home with me. What I did take home, and will carry with me for a while, is the feeling I got listening to "Comfortably Numb" played live for the first time, in all it's glory.

Maybe it wasn't Pink Floyd, when I closed my eyes, it might as well have been.

House of Floyd will be back in town playing at Harlow's on May 7th. Tickets are $20 and dancing is actively encouraged.

North Mississippi Allstars at Harlow's

2011-03-11T03:51:24Z

One of the best days of my life was spent in North Mississippi.

On my way to New Orleans from Nashville in the summer of 2009, I decided to stop in Clarksdale, Miss. It was a little out of the way, but the pulled pork at Abe's Barbecue was supposedly a game changer, and that was good enough for me.

A little after 9 a.m., I pulled into Abe's, located at the intersection of two highways, 61 and 49. A crossroads, really. The Crossroads, to be exact.

I had, completely unbeknownst to me (in spite of myself?), stumbled upon the birthplace of the blues, the very spot of lore where Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil.

All ‘cause fatty wanted a sammich.

I ended up spending the day in Clarksdale, staying the night at the Shack Up Inn, located on the converted Hopson Plantation. After eating my sammich, checking out the Crossroads, the Delta Blues Museum, the spot where Muddy Waters was born, the spot where Bessie Smith died, and the whimsically named Hambone and Cat Head Delta Blues Art Galleries, I had worked up quite a thirst.

I watched the sun set over the plantation while drinking sweet tea vodka and Country Time Lemonade Arnold Palmers out of mason jars on the front stoop of a converted shotgun shack. My drinking companions were a French Canadian couple, two Irish lasses and a foreword-thinking fellow from Knoxville. (He had brought the sweet tea vodka. The lemonade was mine. Kismet.) They had all come to explore the Delta Blues Highway. I had come for a sandwich.

We would end up taking the party over to Ground Zero Blues Club for an epic open mic night, hosted by Daddy Rich, and closed with a set by Mr. Tater the Music Maker (R.I.P), "the last of the true Delta Blues street performers".

Fast forward to Tuesday night, the North Mississippi Allstars played a show at Harlow's.

The show was to concerts at Harlow's what that late summer day in Clarksdale was to. . . uh. . .days: damn near perfect.

When I arrived at 10 minutes past 8 p.m., Luther Dickinson was alone on stage, already wailing away, a rack of guitars to his right.

Dickinson is the lead singer of North Mississippi Allstars and was opening for himself.

To say that he is a talented guitarist would be an understatement. The cat is amazing. He played just about every guitar in the rack during his opening set, in all manner of styles.

The first song I caught from beginning to end was a slide blues number about Highway 61, one half of the legendary Crossroads.

He was already on his fourth guitar of the evening when he went into an epic instrumental jam, employing a thumb-slapping technique on the guitar that would generally be associated with electric bass players (think Les Claypool). For a moment the tune reminded me of "Sinister Minister" by Béla Fleck and the Flecktones. How one man with a guitar is able to create a sound reminiscent of Béla (banjo) and Victor Wooten (bass) at their absolute nastiest is beyond me, but, like I said, Dickinson ain't your average guitar player.

Another high point was his rendition of "Georgia Women," a Hill Country Revue cover of a song by another North Mississippi hill country blues man, R.L. Burnside.

Playing to his audience, Dickinson took some liberties with the lyrics: "I don't know, but I been told, California women. . . they sweet jelly roll.”

The packed house ate it up.

Dickinson finished off the solo portion of the evening with a rollicking cover of the Big Joe Williams classic "Shake Your Boogie," which got the audience doing just that.

At 8:40 p.m., Dickinson's brother Cody jumped on stage and took his rightful place behind the drum kit.

Dickinson commemorated his sibling’s arrival on stage by bringing out what I believe to have been his sixth guitar of the evening. This one was a doozy: a coffee can guitar, which is just what it sounds like. A coffee can serves as the body of the guitar, with what looks like a broom handle serving as the neck. Two strings serve as strings.

He played it both plugged and unplugged, holding the open bottom of the coffee can atop his mic. The unplugged stunt proved to be the death knell of the opening set, as the sound system couldn't handle the sheer amount of awesome going down, and we were hit with a couple shrieking blasts of feedback. On that note, Dickinson put down his Frankenaxe and informed us that they would be back in a few before adjourning backstage with his brother.

Twenty minutes later, the brothers Dickinson returned to the stage, this time accompanied by the force of nature that is Chris Chew on bass. The band was whole, and the show was about to go supernova.

They opened with the revival-esque "The Meeting" off their new album, "Keys to the Kingdom," which is an homage to the brothers’ father, Jim Dickinson, a North Mississippi blues legend and the former frontman of Mudboy and the Neutrons.

Jim Dickinson passed away in the summer of '09 while the Allstars were on hiatus, Luther playing lead guitar for The Black Crowes and Cody manning the skins for the Hill Country Revue. In the months before his death, Jim told his boys that he wanted them to play together, that they were far better together than they would ever be apart.

"Keys to the Kingdom" is the result of the boys honoring one of their father’s last wishes, and it is some powerful stuff.

After another soulful, emotive track off the album, "Let It Roll," Dickinson bantered a bit with the already-riled up audience.

"This is our first time in Sac,” (raucous cheers). “Y'all feeling alright?” (more of the same). “I'm feeling pretty good myself,” (bedlam).

Up next was one of my favorite cuts of the evening, "Mean Old Wind Died Down," a driving blues track that starts out with Dickinson singing in harmony with his juicy slide licks, before heavy-ing it up with some distorted power cords, then capping it off with an absolutely shredded finger-picked solo.

On a couple songs, big daddy Chris Chew ably took over lead vocal duties. The first such instance was on "I'd Love to Be a Hippy" off their 2008 album, "Hernando." "I'd love to be a hippy, but my hair won't grow that long," the bassist croons, taking the time between verses to pulverize a rib cage-rattling bass solo.

During a downturn in the especially boisterous "Shake What Your Momma Gave You," a young lady who was doing as she was told saw her opening and took it. "You guys are smoking hot!" she cried out, capping her exclamation with a warbled half-"yeah"-half-"woo": "yeahwooo!" She was right on all counts.

It was as packed as I've ever seen Harlow's on a Tuesday night, and between the musicians on stage and the adoring, pulsating throng in front of it, the room had a decidedly tropical heat. It was a fairly chilly night outside, but inside it was about 80 degrees and rising.

The entire two-hour set was just a series of high points, but a few more moments bear mentioning:

- At one juncture, Chew sat out and Luther was playing by himself. Cody had his back to the audience behind his kit, and it took a moment for me to realize that there was a keyboard back there the whole time. After wailing on the keys for a bit, he switched over to the washboard. I didn't know it was possible to "shred" a washboard, but Cody did just that.

- A little later during another epic jam, Cody ended up with a guitar in his hands. As he played the kick drum and hi-hat with his feat, he began to exchange licks with his brother until he was playing a full-blown ridiculous solo of his own. Unreal.

- Dickinson's final guitar of the night (eighth? 10th? By this time I had lost track. Call it a plethora) was another cobbled-together Franken-instrument. This one had a body made from a cigar box and four strings. As he had with every other guitar of the evening, he absolutely dominated with the cigar-tar.

All told, the gathered throng was treated to a solid three hours of North Mississippi mayhem, and by the time they encored with "Talking ‘bout the Ghetto," the crowd was in such a fervor that it almost felt like a revival.

One thing's for sure: We had seen the light.

Don't sleep on North Mississippi.

Truth is coming!

2011-03-09T02:39:06Z

I've got some great news.

Truth & Salvage Company is making a triumphant return to Harlow's on Wednesday evening.

T&S is the only band to have (with a big nod to The Avett Brothers) two of their concerts appear on Aaron Davis' top 10 Sacramento shows of 2010, and that doesn't include their September gig opening for Tea Leaf Green at Harlow's, which led a certain wide-eyed young Sac Press reporter to proclaim: "Truth & Salvage was a game changer. I think everyone should go see them, every chance they get. I certainly will be."

Since I've already broken the golden rule of "doth not quote thine self, lest ye wish to appear a pretentious ass.", I may as well keep it going:

"Truth & Salvage was born in Hollywood in 2005, but the bands roots and soul lie in places as disparate as Asheville, N.C.; New Orleans; Indianapolis; Tupelo, Miss.; Atlanta; deep-southern Ohio and, I like to think, in the backseat of a Greyhound bus, rolling down Highway 41. It is an unusual six-piece band featuring four singer/songwriters, each of whom brings a unique voice to the group."

The following quote from a recent article on T&S Co. in the Boise Weekly also sums the band up nicely : "The Sacramento Press likened the band to 'a freight train ride down the Route 66 of American music,' complete with Hammond organ, steel guitar and accordion on board.".

Alright, we admit it, a couple of us here in the music department at SacPress are a wee bit smitten with the So-Cal sextet and their soulful, bluesy, countrified-rock'n'roll. Come check 'em out on Wednesday and you will be too.

Opening the show will be Monterey's Honeymoon, a quartet of female singer/songwriters playing their own brand of Americana Folk, which Phil Lesh (Grateful Dead, Furthur, do I really have to do this?) described as the music of "sirens and goddesses". (Goddesses in the pre-Charlie Sheen definition of the word)

Tickets are $10.00.

Doors open at 8:00pm.

I haven't been this excited for a show since, well. . . Mustache Harbor.

But before that, since the last time Truth & Salvage were in town.

I'll see you on the dance floor.

North Mississippi Allstars

2011-03-08T02:40:49Z

Tuesday night, Sacramento is going to receive a heavy dose of crushing hillcountry blues in the form of a visit from the three-time Grammy-nominated North Mississippi Allstars, who will be burning Harlow's to the ground, figuratively speaking.

The Allstars hail from Hernando, Miss., a town 80 minutes north on The Delta Blues Highway from the birthplace of the blues (and the famous crossroads where Robert Johnson sold his soul those many years ago), Clarksdale, Miss., and 30 minutes south of "Blues City", Memphis, Tenn.

Along this stretch of Highway 61, you can't throw a dead cat without hitting a really good blues musician. And the cat probably played a mean harmonica. If you ever have the chance, go to an open mic at Red's or Ground Zero in Clarksdale: Your mind will be blown. You have to be incredible to stand out, but stand out is exactly what the North Mississippi Allstars do.

As if there wasn't enough geographic pressure on the group to be spectacular badasses, throw in a little genealogical pressure: Luther (guitar and vocals) and Cody (drums and vocals) are the progeny of Memphis bluesman and producer Jim Dickinson, who, among other things, fronted Mudboy & the Neutrons.

It's not easy to emerge from the shadow of a legendary father, but emerge they have.

Sadly, the elder Dickinson passed away in August of '09. At the time of his passing, NMA was on hiatus, with brother Luther playing lead guitar for The Black Crowes while brother Cody manned the skins for Hill Country Revue. In the months before his death, Jim told his sons that he wanted them to play together, that they were far better together than they'd ever be apart.

The younger Dickinsons honored their father's wishes and dedicated their new album, "Keys to the Kingdom," to his memory. "Keys" is the "Allstars' swampiest, greasiest, grittiest, funkiest – and most heartfelt, poignant and honest – release to date." (Relix)

If you like jammed-out Mississippi swamp-blues (and who doesn't?), you'd better be at Harlow's Tuesday night. It doesn't get much better than this.

Doors open at 8:00pm.
Tickets $17.50
See you on the dance floor.

Sierra Nevada Brew Night

2011-03-03T02:56:44Z

Old Ironsides was packed to the gills Saturday night for an epic three-band bill. Two of Sacramento's best young rock bands, Honyock and Walking Spanish, bookended San Francisco darlings Nicki Bluhm and the Gramblers.

All three played inspired sets, as you would know if you were there.

If you weren't, well, you would be well served to attend their next Sacramento gigs.

Honyock is bringing their rare blend of folk, classic and new age rock to the Luna's on Friday, March 4.

Walking Spanish will be bringing their searing high-energy indie rock, fronted by Jackie Greene's virtuosic kid bro Alex Nelson, back to Old I for their CD release party on March 25.

And Nicki Bluhm and the Gramblers — well, Nicki has no Sacramento dates upcoming, although she has been known to make surprise (or not-so-surprise) appearances at her husband's shows. Tim Bluhm will be at Marilyn's on K with the Mother Hips this Saturday.

So what of the Gramblers, you ask?

You're in luck. Three of them will be headlining the Sierra Nevada Brew Night at the Shady Lady on Thursday.

in conjunction with Sacramento Beer Week, the Shady Lady will have Sierra Nevada Hoptimum, Glissade and a special top-secret brewer’s choice on draft.

Dave Mulligan & Friends (Deren Ney and Mike Curry) go on at 10 p.m. These guys are all supremely talented musicians, and they assured me personally that they will be blowing the doors off. Chico's Dick and Jane open things up at 9 p.m.

It's not every day you get a second chance. I just gave you four of ‘em. See you at the shows.

Nicki Bluhm & The Gramblers!!!

2011-02-25T04:29:48Z

Old Ironsides is playing host to San Francisco’s Nicki Bluhm & The Gramblers Saturday night.

If you haven’t seen Nicki Bluhm perform before, you really should. Here’s your chance.

If you have seen Nicki Bluhm perform before, well, then, I don’t have to tell you. I’ll see you guys Saturday.

Mrs. Bluhm has been compared to Bonnie Raitt, Stevie Nicks, Linda Ronstadt, Joni Mitchell and pretty much every other great leading lady of rock ’n’ roll.

She is reminiscent off all of them at times, while retaining a voice all her own — comforting, smoky, velvety, textured, whiskey-tinged, beautiful.

The Gramblers most recent album, “Driftwood,” features members of The Mother Hips (including her husband, front man Tim Bluhm), ALO, Railroad Earth, Jackie Greene, Dengue Fever and the Skinny Singers.

The songs are timeless, evocative of the past but certainly not doomed to repeat it. I wanna listen to this album with the windows rolled down, driving along a two-lane country highway to anywhere (with a slight buzz. Can I say that? Don’t drink and drive, kids!).

It’s Americana pop rock, with a little country and a lot of California soul. I can't even tell you how excited I am for this show.

Filling out the Jerry Perry Presents bill are Sacramento stalwarts Walking Spanish (as their CD release party) and Honyock, neither of which I know personally.

From Walking Spanish’s MySpace page: “Their songs pay homage to great artists of the past while moving forward in a genre-mixing, fist-pumping affair that brings audiences of all ages to their feet.” ( Andy Laughlin, Village Life)

From Honyock's MySpace page: “Sounds like: Fun.” (They really don’t have much on their page, but one of their 348 friends is Dr. Dog, which is a very good sign.)

So come on out: Old Ironsides, Saturday night at 9 p.m. Tickets are $7.

See you on the dance floor.

The Nibblers and Big Sam at Harlow's

2011-02-24T01:57:00Z

Sacramento's merry band of funkateers, The Nibblers, opened up for New Orleans' party-funk phenomena Big Sam's Funky Nation on Sunday night at Harlow’s.

Wowzers.

I don't know much, but I do know that whenever our Nibblers join forces with a New Orleans powerfunk group led by a virtuoso slide trombonist featured prominently in HBO's "Treme," you better drop whatever you're doing and head on over.

It is always an incredible show.

I wasn't feeling well on Sunday evening, to the point where I was actively soliciting offers to take over my spot covering the show. (By "actively soliciting offers", I mean "updating my Facebook status from bed".)

Boy, am I glad I didn't find any takers.

I arrived about 9:20 and, eschewing my usual PBR for a tall glass of ice water, I headed over to my usual spot at the front left side of the stage.

The hometown heroes took the stage at 9:30, and by 9:31 the dance floor was fully bumping.

It was a typically high-energy Nibblers set, New Orleans soul flavored liberally with jazzy horns and funky beats.

Lead singer Hans Eberbach chopped it up with the gathered revelers throughout.

"It's only been, what, a week since we last played? Feels like forever!" he said.

The crowd, as it always is at Nibblers shows, particularly those at Harlow's, was an eclectic mix. The 20-somethings were about as well represented as the 60-somethings, with the majority of the crowd falling somewhere betwixt the two.

As far as a ratio of sexes goes, let's just say that the ladies love The Nibblers.

A couple of the highlights were songs I knew well from previous Nibblers performances: the churning, bluesy "Memphis Train" ("The train's a-coming!") and maybe their signature hit, "Baby Let Me Kiss You" (the ladies go crazy for this one — really, everyone does).

My favorite song of the night, however, was one that I did not immediately recognize. "Going Slowly Down" is an unexpected, ska-tinged burner featuring some wahhed-out guitar that really stood out. In the middle of the song they transitioned seamlessly into a couple minutes of the ubiquitous Bob Marley classic "Three Little Birds" before returning whence they began.

During the Marley interlude, a familiarly sweet, skunky, smoke began wafting up from the center of the dance floor. Cliched, I know. It wasn't mine.

They closed their set with the straight up funk-rock "Improve," which packs a wallop, and a positive message to boot. ("Take a look around. . . and see what you can improve.")

They left the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause at 10:30 p.m. on the button.

Big Sam had still not taken the stage when 11 p.m. rolled around, and, with a lesser crowd, the natives may have started getting restless.

Not these guys, however. There was a steady 10- to 20-person dance party going on pretty much the entire set break to the filler music playing over the venue speakers. These folks weren't afraid to dance while waiting to dance. All night, it was one of the best dancing crowds I've ever seen at Harlow's, no matter who was (or wasn't) on stage.

11:10 p.m., a voice came over the speakers: "Are you ready to have a good time?!" On came Funky Nation.

The New Orleans five-piece (guitar, drums, bass, trumpet and Big Sam on trombone) came out guns a-blazing and didn't slow down for the entirety of the 90-plus-minute set.

Trombone Shorty threw down the gauntlet with their Harlow's appearance back in September. Going in, I didn't give Sam and the boys much of a chance to match it.

Oh, me of little faith.

Funky Nation absolutely killed it.

I don't know if I've ever seen a performer exert more energy during a 90-minute set than Big Sam did Sunday night. From the moment he took the stage, he was a dancing fool, fully matching the delirious crowd tearing up the dance floor in front of the stage. Some of his moves were Kid ‘n Play-esque, which I consider to be high praise.

They heavily involved the audience throughout the set, launching into all manner of call and response ("Say hell yeah!" "Y'all feeling good? Then scream!" ), as well as numerous call and reacts ("Put your hands up!" "Get low!").

And how about this medley right here: "It's Your Thing" > "No Diggity" > "Cool Like That" > "Hip Hop Hooray" > "Dolla Dolla Bill Y'all"?

If that doesn't get your juices flowing, I'm pretty sure we can't be friends anymore.

At the end of this absurdly dope medley, Big Sam and trumpet player Andrew Bahum left the stage for a few, leaving guitarist Takeshi Shimmura, bassist Eric Vogel and drummer "Chocolate Milk" ("He does a body good!") to drop a searing, almost experimental fusion jazz break, featuring crushing solos from all three.

They had built to a crescendo when the horns came back out, and Sam got utterly loose on the slide trombone. He would break up his wailing lead trombone solo with little comical womp bursts, aimed in the face of revelers (generally female) in front of the stage. Dude's a master showman and had the crowd eating out of his hands.

At one point a birthday was announced. Turns out it was Big Sam’s birthday as well. The birthday girl was hanging out in the back of the room, and Sam wouldn't stand for it: "You can't be scared and all sitting down in the back. Get your ass up here!"

She did just that, and they went into a jam on "Happy Birthday," which then turned into an epic "Treme," which turned into an epic version of "Everybody Needs Somebody to Love," which, of course, turned into "Let It Shine," which turned into "You Are My Sunshine," at which point I passed out.

I got one more for you.

After getting the whole crowd to give "spirit fingers," they went into Prince's "You Sexy Motherfucker" > Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy" > Kanye’s "Golddigger" > Lil Jon’s "Get Low" (during which the whole crowd and all band members who were able got down on the ground) > "Shout!" (a little bit louder now!) > "Jump Jump" (not sure if it was the Kris Kross or House of Pain version — I was delirious by this point) > Ceelo’s "Fuck You" > Lady Gaga’s "Bad Romance" (I think, or maybe "Poker Face") > Black Eyed Peas’ "Humps."

It was absolutely insane, and the crowd was in a full-blown tizzy.

They finished the set with — what else? — the theme to “The Flintstones.”

The horns left the stage at 12:40 p.m., with the trio following them off a couple minutes later. At this point, I would say only about half of the crowd remained from a high of 150 or so.

Luckily, it was the loud half, and by 12:45 we had spurred on our champion’s return.

Did they encore with "When the Saints Go Marching In”? You bet your sweet bippy they did.

And did they adjust the lyrics to refer back to the 2010 New Orleans Saints Super Bowl victory ("Who dat saying dey gonna beat dem Saints?")? You're darn tooting!

And did Big Sam and A.B. lead the crowd in a conga line around the whole of the venue while all this was going down?

They'd have been crazy not too.

ALO and Nathan Moore at Harlow's

2011-02-22T20:03:48Z

Saturday night, San Francisco (by way of Santa Barbara) jam rockers Animal Liberation Orchestra brought their Tour D'Amour to town, playing a sold out show at Harlow's with their good buddy Nathan Moore.

I arrived a few minutes before 9pm to find a long line cued up out front and the venue already teaming with folks.

The first person I saw at the front of the line was my friend Heather Clement, who I'd met at High Sierra, and then again at Outsidelands, and a third time at Hardly Strictly Bluegrass. She had made the drive up from San Louis Obispo for the show, with a pitstop in Redding to link up with her pops.

In fact, it seemed that most of the people I spoke to were from out of town. In addition to S.L.O. and Redding, San Francisco, Santa Barbara, Tahoe, Pacifica, Reno and Salt Lake City were all represented amongst the 20 or so concert-goers I polled.

The show took place in Sacramento, but the crowd was decidedly a West Coast hodgepodge.

After greeting the Clements' at the door, I proceeded to cut in front of them, heading straight for the front desk. "Lindol French, I'm with the SacPress" I said to the guy manning the post. The "I'm kind of a big deal" was implied.

As you might expect, I wasn't on the list.

So much for impressing the out-of-towers, who were now openly laughing at my plight.

A moment later the owner came to my aid, and I was in, unscathed except for some light bruising of my ego. I suppose I deserved that.

I sidled up for the bar for my first PBR of the evening, and immediately noticed some subtle (not so?) cross promotion going on: Truth and Savage Co. (March 9th, $10.00, I'll see you there) was playing on the sound system. They played the album in it's entirety, and informed the uninitiated of the fact during the first set break. They also mentioned that T&S are on Chris Robinson's (April 5th, $15.00, I'll see you there as well) label. Well done.

Nathan Moore took the stage a little before 9:40pm. The curtains were drawn open for his introduction, after which they quickly closed again. The curtains remained shut for the duration of his opening number, "The Invisible Guy".

For those of you who don't know, Nathan Moore is a folksinger extraordinaire, a captivating storyteller and a prolific songwriter. Dennis Cook of Jambase describes him as "undeniably one of the finest songwriters of the modern age".

To top that off, he's a pretty darn good magician.

After his second song (first with the curtain drawn) "Siting on Top of the World", he pulled out a newspaper and started playfully ranting on the state of world affairs. At the climax of his rant, he tore the newspaper to shreds. Then, with a flourish, he unfurled the shredded newsprint, and "presto!" it was back in it's original state.

"Did he really just do that?' I asked to no one in particular. A gentleman standing in front of me replied "He's really good, I've seen him hypnotize an audience. Seriously, he brings out a spinning wheel and everything". Unreal.

Many of the highlights of his set featured the Virginia troubadour playing a kazoo. During the kazoo laden tracks, some folks (the cool kids?) in the audience pulled out kazoos of their own and joined in on the fun.

One of the highlights was "Dear Puppeteer", a slower song and the title track of his newest record. "I'm really proud of it" Nathan told us matter-of-factly, "It's the best thing I ever did." High praise that.

Later in the set, to the delight of the packed house, he pulled out what appeared to be a mouth operated pygmy keytar/kazoo (I was later informed it was a melodica). He played the melodica (M.O.P.K.K.?) on several songs, "The Woo Hoo Blues" being first among them.

Moore continued to banter with the crowd throughout the set. After thanking ALO for having him open, he informed us that "there's a very good chance you may fall in love by the time the night's over. It's ALO, these guys are trained professionals."

His most profound words he saved for just before he ended his set with an epic kazoo solo. "Don't take it too seriously" he said, seriously. I'm not certain as to what he was referring to, so I'm gonna go ahead and assume it was just about everything.

He left the stage to a standing ovation at 10:50, and 15 minutes later the headliners took his place. "This is a special setlist, you guys picked it!". This was the second "Fans Choice Setlist" of the tour, where-in fans voted online for the songs that were to be played.
The songs would be played in descending order, with the most voted-for song closing the set.

Bluesy rocker "Lady Loop" got the set started off with a bang, and the sweaty throng of fans began to get down with a little more intensity than they had during the predominantly mellow first set.

Up next was "Walls of Jericho", sung by drummer Dave Brogan. I didn't actually realize this fact until a subsequent youtube viewing of the song. I had lost my position next to the stage between bands. The dance floor was uncomfortably packed (at least for ALO's first set), and it would have been an impossibility for me to juggle my camera, notebook and my trusty PBR amongst the throng. I was forced to take shelter from the masses in the small alcove next to the side bar, which would have been fine if the Sacramento chapter of "The Well Over 6-Foot Tall Jam Band Appreciators Syndicate" wasn't holding their yearly meeting directly between I and the stage. (and, yes, they're coed). For most of the set I was lucky to catch glimpses of the guitarist Dan Lebowitz's head in between the altitudinous ALO-philes bobbing before me.

That being said, it sounded fantastic, and I was able to carve out a nice little dancing area for myself, complete with railing on which to rest my camera, notebook and beer, alternately.

The hits just kept coming, mostly older stuff. The blues tinged "Roses and Clover" from the 2007 album of the same name; the Steely Dan-esque super cool "Pobrecito" off of 2006's "Fly Between Falls"; the keys heavy classic rock sing-along "Maria", also off "R&C".

As they went into Maria, I had the following (inevitable?) encounter with superfan Princess Moonbeam Sparklespinner, who was lamenting the tune selection: "People keep requesting all the popular songs !?!?!?!?!"

"It kinda makes sense, doesn't it?" I answered her puzzled exclamation with a query of my own. She was nonplussed and spun off on her merry way.

The popular songs continued, as I knew they would (almost by definition, right?), with "Girl, I Wanna Lay You Down" and "Wasting Time (The I.V. Song)". They are both love songs, of sorts, but the similarities end there. Anyone who has spent any time in Isla Vista can relate to the latter. (and, I suppose, anyone who's ever wanted to lay you down can relate to the former).

They finished off the crowd pleasing set with the XM Radio stalwart, and, well, bubbly, "Plastic Bubble", followed by their classic, if wistful, summer anthem "Barbecue", which was the most requested song in Santa Barbara as well.

The first set ended at 12:10pm, and (thank God!) some of the more faint-of-heart cleared out, leaving the room a good deal more maneuverable. Don't get me wrong, it remained packed for the second set, but the concept of personal space became a semi-possibility rather than a distant memory. If you squinted just so you could even make out aisles (probably illusory, but hey).

The second set, ah, the second set. Where the training wheels come off. Everytime I thought that they were going to really extend a jam during the first set, the very thought seemed to signify the songs end. In the second set, everytime I thought a jam was ending, it seemed to signify they had a little further to take it.

The uninitiated, nonbeliever might have preferred the more structured, song-based first set, but for died-in-the-wool hippy jamming enthusiasts like me and Princess Moonbeam Sparklespinner, it's no contest. Second set for the win.

They even brought Nathan Moore out for the easily sing-along-able "I Hate Love" which climaxed in an epic dueling melodica (dueling pygmy mouth powered keytars?) jam, with Zach Gill proving equal to the challenge. In the middle of the shenanigans, they dropped into a Steve Miller "Joker" for a moment. 'Twas awesome.

When they dropped into "Kolomana" (2002, Time Expander) P.M.S. (I swear to God I didn't do that on purpose) came over to me and announced "I love this song!". All was again right with the world!

By the time they encored with Hot Tub>Pirates of Rock>Hot Tub, I had put down my camera, my notebook and my beer. Only the dancing remained. The animals had been liberated.

The Refuge . . .

2011-02-22T05:54:20Z

Have you ever been a part of a great crowd at an epic rock show?

The kind of crowd that becomes a living, breathing, thing? A sea of buzzing, sweaty, frenzied humanity, urging and inspiring it's champions to take their playing to theretofore undiscovered heights? The kind of crowd that makes band members to look at each other in a mixture of awe, appreciation and pure joy?

Man, it's fun to be a part of one of those crowds.

Now, imagine the opposite of that.

Friday night, downtown's all ages concert venue, The Refuge, played host to a pretty darn good rock show. The Northgate Project, The Common Men, The Generals, Dusty Brown and Eight Four Seven gave it their all, but unfortunately the deck was stacked against them.

The crowd of 40 odd people couldn't, or wouldn't match the energy put forth by the assembled rockers.

At no time during the nearly four hour show was there anything resembling a dance floor. Actually, that's not entirely true. In front of the stage, for most of the evening, was a space the length of the stage and probably 15 feet deep, completely void of humanity.

The empty space kind of resembled a dance floor, if only someone had danced.

We arrived as The Northgate Project was finishing up, about 7:45pm. As they broke down their equipment, I surveyed the scene and spoke to promoter Casey McKracken. Of the venue, McKracken said "It's just something that this town has always needed." I would agree with the sentiment. A midsize (240 capacity, though it looks like it could hold more) all ages club right in the heart of Midtown (1723L St.) is certainly an asset to Sacramento.

The room looks like what it is, a multipurpose room for the St. Johns Lutheran Church. It won't win any beauty contests, but it's a comfortable space, with an assorted hodgepodge of comfortable seats and clothed tables spread around the rear two thirds of the room. The restrooms are located behind the slightly elevated stage, and the band members milled about the venue when they weren't performing.

Davis' post punk trio The Common Men took the stage next and inspired the crowd to, well, mostly sit on their hands and clutch their coffees close to their breasts. They played a nice six song set, highlighted by their radio track "Hanged Men", a really solid punk song, which reminded me a bit of The Clash.

They ended their set with lead singer/guitarist Kevin Ian on his hands and knees ripping his guitar strings violently from the neck of his guitar as he and his bandmates crashed and banged and feedbacked their way to a noisy crescendo. The lack of energy in the room was certainly not on them.

Up next were Sacramento indie two-piece, The Generals. Consisting of only a drummer and guitarist, both of whom sing, they played a remarkable set. I'd heard them described as being "U2-like", and there is certainly a little bit of "The Edge" in Matt Sertich's guitar playing.
They create a huge sound with recorded synth tracks underneath the driving drum beats of Kirk Jonowiak and the ambient guitar play of Sertich.

If you were going to make a classic 80's movie, but with a present day soundtrack, you might want to recruit The Generals for the project.
During their set, the lack of crowd energy reached awkward levels. Between songs you could hear a pin drop. At one point Sertich commented on the elephant in the room "It's so quiet".

Several members of the crowd shushed him.

Jonowiak tried to break the ice between the next two songs with a joke "What did Kenny G say when he got on the elevator?" he asked before quickly answering himself "This place rocks". Was it a subtle jab at the crowd or just a cheesy joke? Probably the latter, but it works just as well as the former.

Awkward silences have no place at rock shows.

Up next was Dusty Brown, fresh off a memorable set at the Sacramento Electronic Music Festival a few short weeks ago. I didn't get a chance to see them there, but the highlight of my experience there-in was Tycho featuring D.B. guitarist (Zach Brown) and singer (Jessica Brown).

They played a great set of their drum and bass heavy electronica, with Zach's guitar and Jessica's haunting vocals creating layers of sound that flooded the room.

This is music that is meant to be danced to, nay, demands to be danced to. I asked Steven Chea about their performance at SEMF , "They played nearly the same set, and it absolutely killed".

It's rough when the man in the room dancing the hardest is Dusty himself, throwing down behind his MOOG. Before their last song of the evening, he chastised the crowd "If you guys could stand back another 30 feet, it'd make it a little more awkward" .

I made it a point to relieve him of the mantle of biggest dancing fool, if only for one song.

After their set I caught up with Zach outside "I really feed off the energy of the crowd." he said. On this night the pickings were slim.

The last act of the evening was Eight Four Seven, who like D.B. are deeply steeped in electronica, but the quartet features a lot of heavy, crashing guitars to go along with the beats.

They recently toured with fellow Sacramento band the Deftones, and there are definite similarities between the two bands.

The kids pulverized their instruments, as if they owed them money. To their credit they were able to induce the crowd to within 10 feet of the stage, and there was some serious (semiserious?) head bobbing going on. It never quite reached the point of headbanging.

I apologize if I am judging the audience a bit harshly, but the good news is, the situation is easily remedied. "All ages" doesn't have to be an impediment. I mean, how many 15 to 20 year old kids are there within a 20 mile radius of downtown Sac who enjoy seeing live music and are looking for something to do on a friday night?

A crapton, give or take.

They need to do a better job of tapping into this market. The average age at an all ages dry show in a youth center should never be mid to late twenties. (there were as many 50 somethings in attendance as there were teenagers.)

In my formative years I would have been ecstatic to have a place like Refuge to hang out. Sure beats the pants off the AM PM parking lot.

Here's hoping the next show has a crowd worthy of the performers.

Big Sam's Funky Nation!

2011-02-19T02:16:14Z

New Orleans' funk phenomenon Big Sam's Funky Nation rolls into Sacramento Sunday night to play a show at Harlow's.

"Big Sam" Williams, a former member of the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, has been celebrated as "the top man on the slide trombone in the birthplace of jazz" by the San Francisco Chronicle.

He also has a recurring role playing himself on the HBO Original Series "Treme."

Jambase describes Big Sam's Funky Nation as "soul food to get us through the week" and touts the band for always "bringing a straight raw party."

BSFN is a stalwart on the U.S. festival circuit, having appeared at New Orleans Jazzfest, Bonnaroo, Voodoo Arts and Music Fest , South by Southwest, Gathering of the Vibes, and Jam Cruise. Sunday night is the second to last date on a West coast swing (they play Yoshi's SF on the 21st) before they return to the Southeast.

Opening for the New Orleans funksters are local favorite, soul/funk troubadours The Nibblers.

The last time The Nibblers opened up at Harlow's for a New Orleans powerfunk group led by a virtuoso slide trombonist featured in "Treme," it resulted in one of the best Sacramento shows of 2010.

I expect more of the same on Sunday night.

The show begins at 9 p.m., and tickets are $12.

Dancing shoes, though not required, are highly recommended.

See you there.

Murder by Death

2011-02-16T00:02:30Z

Sam Diamond: "I don't get it. First they steal the body and leave the clothes, then they take the clothes and bring the body back. Who would do a thing like that?

Dick Charleston: "Possibly some deranged dry cleaner."

What precedes is a scene from the classic 1976 film "Murder by Death," which is hilarious. Diamond is played by Peter Falk, and Charleston is played by David Niven. Truman Capote has a starring role, as does Sir Alec Guiness (in his last role before becoming Obi-Wan Kenobi). It's even got Peter Sellers playing an elderly Chinese detective, which, though borderline racist, is a role he was born to play. (and by "borderline," I mean "overtly.")

When I heard that "Murder by Death" was also an alt-rock band that would be playing at Harlow's on Sunday night, I went, sight unseen (sound unheard?).

If nothing else, I figured they'd have a good sense of humor.

Turns out they are pretty fantastic musicians as well.

Opening for the Indiana folk rockers were Damion Suomi and the Minor Prophets, and The Builders And The Butchers.

Unfortunately, due to some faulty intel (we had been informed that the bands were running late and the show wouldn't start until 9 p.m.), we missed all but the final song of Damion's set. The one song that we did hear, the soulful introspective "The lion, the ram, and the fish," made me wish that we'd heard the rest.

Up next were Portland's (by way of Alaska) The Builders And The Butchers.

It took very little time to recognize that these guys have a style and sound all their own. Two drummers, one of whom also plays keys, t'other a mandolin, sharing a single deconstructed drum set (this is fantastic). There is also a lead guitarist who does most of his damage on an electric banjo, but who also brings an electric mandolin and lap steel to the party when the situation calls for it. And a lead singer who doesn't hesitate to employ a 1930s? traffic cone-like megaphone while singing, tossing it to the stage as if disgusted with it when it no longer serves it's purpose.

It sounds crazy, but it all works.

They play a heavy crushing version of alt/Americana/folk/whiskey rock. Songs like "Rotten to the Core" and "Golden and Green" are driving, crunching dark and powerful tracks, elevated by Ryan Sollee's haunting vocals and able storytelling.

They set the bar pretty high for the evening's headliners.

Murder by Death proved up to the challenge.

The boys (and girl) from Bloomington play another unique version of American/folk/alt-country rock. It's not very often that you see an electronic cello or a drummer playing a propane tank.

Sarah Balliet's cello playing gives the music a lush, fat richness that just envelops the room. Speaking of haunting vocals. . . . Adam Turla's got em. Another great storyteller, his vocals range from deep and resonant (possibly my favorite song of the evening, "Brother"), to borderline Danzig-esque (crowd favorite and encore, "Comin Home").

The band may be even better than the movie.

Mustache Harbor, Yacht Rock Samurais

2011-02-12T03:55:32Z

Mustaches are the new black. I know, I've said it before about a wide variety of things (orange, Thai food, peacocks — the list is long and distinguished), but this time I really mean it. Think about it. They're cool, slimming and they go with everything. They can be formal or casual. They can be used for good or evil.

Always bet on mustache.

I've heard a lot of people describe 2011 as "the year of the rabbit." Balderdash. Poppycock, even. 2011: The Year of the Mustache.

I could do this all day.

Spearheading this mustache revolution are San Francisco soft rock ninjas Mustache Harbor.

What the world needs now is epic soft-rock classics, delivered in spectacular fashion by dudes wearing yachting gear, vintage blue blocker aviators, Hawaiian shirts and, most importantly, mustaches.

Thankfully, Mustache Harbor is knuckle deep in the Zeitgeist, mustachioed crusaders changing lives, making the world a better (hairier?) place, one "Toto" cover at a time.

Thursday night, they brought their yacht rock explosion to Harlow's Nightclub, and it was spectacular.

I am not prone to hyperbole, but they are without a doubt the single greatest cover band of all time.

They are also the second best cover band of all time. Third place goes to Super Diamond.

I arrived a few minutes after 9 p.m. and was greeted by a fellow wearing a T-shirt adorned with a big pair of sunglasses and, natch, a mustache (the scoundrel). I complimented him on his shirt and, assuming it was a Mustache Harbor shirt, asked him about the band.

He'd never heard of them. A friend of his had gotten him the shirt in Hawaii. He just loved the shirt and had worn it to the 7 p.m. comedy show preceding the concert. Like I said,Year of the Mustache.

A few minutes later, saddling up to the bar to grab my first PBR of the evening, I struck up a conversation with a mustachioed gentleman to my left.

"Did you get that in honor of the occasion, or is that a permanent fixture?"

"I grew it for charity, Mustaches for Kids. We've raised over $10,000."

He handed me a card. "Mustaches for Kids," it read. He had never heard of the band until a couple days earlier when a friend mentioned it to him. He was there out of mustache solidarity. Zeitgeist.

The opener, the Sean Tabor Band, came on at 9:45 p.m. It's no easy task opening up for the soft-rock assassins, but they did a bang-up job.

I would describe their music as bouncy Cali ska/surf party rock with a smattering of saccharine and a healthy dose of humor. They were a lot of fun. Among the highlights was the playful lament "Bottom of the Rock" and the easily sing-along-able "Let's Get" (drunk).

The eponymous lead singer was affably self-deprecating, making fun of his dance moves (or lack thereof) and engaging the audience throughout the set. "The next band, Mustache Harbor — if you have not seen them before, get ready for some shit," he said, proving to be prescient.

He teased the audience before his last song of the evening: "If you like singing, go ahead and sing along to this song. You've heard it before. If you haven't, you should probably be wearing a helmet.”

What can I say? I'm a sucker for a well-placed helmet jab. The song? A rollicking version of Tom Petty's "American Girl." If you haven't heard it, well, you know.

The STB finished up at 10:40 and the crowd prepared themselves for the main event.

And by "prepared themselves" I do mean strapped on their mustaches. There were a half dozen flats of fake mustaches floating around. I took one (The Scoundrel) with the caveat that I must wear it the entirety of the evening. It took about 30 seconds of wearing it on my upper lip to realize that, barring a drastic change, there was no way I would be wearing it for the remainder of the set break, let alone the evening. I went to the bathroom and, as it often does, inspiration struck.

Goodbye upper lip, hello forehead. The scoundrel makes for a fine unibrow, and it did so for the remainder.

The mustache mavens took the stage at 11 but remained behind the curtain for a prolonged sound-check as they worked out some kinks. As they worked on the sound, I couldn't help but notice a couple stage accoutrements they had set up.

On the two center-stage monitors, facing the crowd, were two giant, fuzzy mustaches. Technically, they are Carstaches, but for the evening they were Monitorstaches. The point is they are epic, fuzzy mustaches, a foot high and nearly three feet long. Hell, they're three inches deep! This ain't your grandmothers mustache (wait, what?). They are great for parties, weddings, funerals, awkward silences, really anything. I would drape myself in Carstaches were it socially acceptable. Full disclosure, I am friends with the inventor (mad genius?) of the Carstache, but that has no bearing on my enthusiasm for the product. He came up with quite possibly the most important invention of the 21st century (The Century of the Mustache). Fact. Kismet Zeitgeist.

At 11:17, the curtain dropped and the unmistakable opening chords of the Christopher Cross classic "Ride Like the Wind" filled the venue.

Unfortunately, the first three songs were marred by feedback that were handled during a brief instrumental interlude between "Nights on Broadway" and "Caribbean Queen." Take a moment to let that sink in.

You know how some shows, you're waiting for certain favorite songs to be played? You'll enjoy the whole set, but you're always thinking, "I really hope they play (such and such) song," until they finally play it and you are beside yourself with ecstasy.

Every song that Mustache Harbor plays is that song. Every single one.

The entire set is an exercise in ecstatic jubilation. It's almost too good.

Let’s take a quick look at Thursday nights set:
1. "Ride Like the Wind" – Christopher Cross
2. "Lido" – Boz Skaggs
3. "You Make My Dreams" – Hall & Oates (speaking of epic mustaches)
4. "Nights on Broadway" – The Bee Gees
5. "Caribbean Queen" – Billy Ocean
6. "I Keep Forgetting" – Michael McDonald
7. "Africa" – Toto (I honestly can't even tell you how awesome this was.)
8. "Love Isn't Always on Time" – Toto (Is Toto in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame? ‘Cause they should be.)
9. "Go Your Own Way" – Fleetwood Mac
10. "Make a Wish Baby” – Ambrosia
11. "Rich Girl" – Hall & Oates
12. "Escape (The Piña Colada Song)" – Rupert Holmes
13. "Evil Woman" – Electric Light Orchestra
14. "Brandy" – Looking Glass (Really? Looking Glass? Huh, learn something new every day.)
15."I Can't Go for That (No Can Do)" – Hall to the Oates, man they are good.
16." Dancin’ in the Moonlight" – King Harvest (!)
17. "What a Fool Believes" – Doobies
18. "All Night Long" – Lionel
19. "All Out of Love" – Air Supply
20. "Come Sail Away" – Styx

Where's the low point? The bathroom break? The "I'm gonna go have a smoke" song? There isn't one (although I would accept "Evil Woman" as an answer).

And don't think these guys are just getting by on their phenomenal taste in music, sweet mustaches and impeccable fashion sense. They absolutely own these songs. I've seen Hall & Oates, and, to be honest with you, they're no Mustache Harbor. I mean, Oates doesn't even have a mustache anymore.

I've seen Styx before. Their "Come Sail Away" is no match for the Harbors.

Look at the set list again. These songs were meant to be played by dudes wearing yachting gear, vintage blue blocker aviators, Hawaiian shirts and, most importantly, mustaches. They were meant to be played by Mustache Harbor.

Mustache Harbor and The Sean Tabor Band will be playing next Friday, the 18th, at Slims in San Francisco. It is Sean Tabor's CD release party. Go.

Yacht Rock Ninjas!

2011-02-09T04:03:42Z

If you're like me, you've always yearned for someone to combine your loves of yachting, mustaches, martial arts and soft rock into one epic, easy-rocking juggernautical tour de force.

You needn't yearn any longer.

Soft rock ninjas Mustache Harbor, playing Thursday night at Harlow's, are the answer to all of our prayers.

From their website:

"Our mission, our destiny, is simple, to build a mustache army capable of creating a Soft Rock Explosion the likes of which has not been seen since the days when Christopher Cross, Steely Dan, Ace, Kenny Loggins and The Little River Band, to name but a few, created A.M. Gold. So Join us! party with us, live with us, work out at the dojo with us, sing with us, slap on a stash and drink from our bountiful coconuts filled with delicious grooves and tasty hooks."

Sounds amazing, doesn't it?

So if you like Piña Coladas , getting caught in the rain (down in Africa) or walking on air (believe it or not, I'm), then come sail away, ride like the wind, I'd really love to see you tonight. . . Maneater.

Look, what I'm trying to say is, dust off your finest polyester suit, or karategi, or boating gear and get mustachioed up for Thursday night's Yacht Rock Explosion. All of your favorite smooth and easy 70's and 80's jams are in play. It's on like ... Warren Zevon? (or, with a little pronunciation flexibility, it's on like Billy Ocean). Point is: it's on.

Mustache Harbor will be appearing at Harlow's Nightclub this Thursday, the 10th of February at 9:00pm. Tickets are $10.

If you're not into yoga*, and you have half a brain, you'll be there.

*If you're into yoga, you should still come. I don't know what Rupert Holmes has against flexibility.

Odd Fellows, great music.

2011-02-03T04:14:38Z

At first blush, Odd Fellows Hall in Davis seems like it would be more suited to host Jazzercize and Bible classes, bingo, and fraternal fundraising dinners than an epic rock show.

This makes sense, seeing as the former are exactly the type of events the venue generally holds.

But on Tuesday night, there were no bingo cards, no Bibles, no rubbery chicken, (there may have been some spandex — I'll have to check the tape), just a glorious display of musicianship and singer-songwriting. (And despite appearances, the sound was great)

Shannon Harney, Johnny Corndawg and Dawes took ownership of the junior high school auditorium-esque venue, and, if for only for a night, it was Davis' answer to Harlow's or the Independent. Well, minus the hard alcohol. Plus a handful of elementary-age kids with really cool parents.

The show started off with Harney, at first alone with her keyboard, later joined by Ben Lewis on acoustic guitar. Indicative of her sense of humor, her MySpace page describes her music as Christian rap, but I would go with Americanasoulfolk. Ms. Harney was mind-blowing on several levels.

Firstly, there's the shock of hearing such a huge, soulful voice coming from a cute, elfin hippie-ish chick who absolutely still gets carded for cigarettes, or would if she weren't such a badass.

Unexpected.

Then there's her lyrics, ranging from poignant and cynical ("I love you is ambitious, I would settle for goodbye") to mischievous and sensual ("Take off my dress, go down below my waist/ If you have something to say, now would be the time"), but always unconventional, clever and deeply emotive.

Wow.

Lastly is her commanding stage presence and the absolute ease with which she developed a rapport with the audience. "Davis people, you're so polite," she teased, belying (or maybe not) her own Davis roots. "Find me after the show," she said, before adding impishly, "I'm in a purple dress." When she asked the audience, the bulk of whom were seated up to that point, to get up for her last song, they did, to a man.

This is the first opener? Unreal.

Gauntlet thrown, Southern-fried alt-country singer-songwriter Johnny Corndawg took the stage next with his more than able backup band, Dawes, who were opening for themselves. (At one point during the show, the singer asked the crowd, "How are you liking CornDawes?")
The smorgasbord of brilliant lyricism continued, this time with a good ol’ country twang. "When a Ford man turns to Chevy," the Nashville-based Corndawg sings on the song of the same name, "an angel gets it's wings, and the babies, they won't ever cry no more."

He dedicated his next song to anyone who is married. The title of the song? "Shut Up." Needless to say, it's not an ode to marital bliss. "Tired of hearing about your terrible life, I'm livin’ the exact same one, but on the other side of your voice, and I hate that I need to raise mine."

My favorite song of the set was the funny yet mournful ballad "Trashday." "Monday is the day that the trash goes out, I can't forget/ Monday morning I wake up when the truck rolls by . . . She's gonna be so God damn mad at me when she gets home. . . Andersons they put their trash out Friday night, and they never forget, and they never fight. I hate them." Who can't relate to that?

This is the second opener? What a night.

Gauntlet thrown a second time, Dawes, who had left the stage briefly for Corndawg's a cappella encore, returned to the stage around a quarter to 10 p.m. As impressive as the opening acts had been (very), it took Dawes just a few moments to remind everyone why they were the headliners.

I had seen Dawes once before, at Outside Lands at the back of a large packed field, which is to say, I hadn't ever really seen Dawes before. I had only the slightest knowledge of their oeuvre, and what little I had was only recently acquired. I went in almost blind.

But now, now I see. They were absolutely phenomenal.

They played a lot of tracks off their debut studio album, “North Hills.” Crowd favorites, including "Give Me Time," "Peace in the Valley," "That Western Skyline" and "Love Is All I Am," had many in the predominantly college age to slightly older crowd singing along passionately, particularly those of the female persuasion.

They closed the set with their anthemnic hit "When My Time Comes." Lead singer Taylor Goldsmith at one point turned over lead-singing duties to us, the audience. A young boy in particular was perched atop his father’s shoulders front and center, directly in front of the out-turned mic. The kid, who had been splayed on the ground ready to conk out just a song before, belted out the chorus with all his might.

Continuing with one of the recurring themes of the evening, love gone awry, they mixed in an inspired and upbeat cover of Warren Zevon's classic "Hula Hula Boy s."

Some of the best moments of the set came on songs from their upcoming album, which they just finished recording.

"So Well" is a powerful ballad (not to be confused with a power ballad), soulful and yearning. Often when a band plays a new ballad, they are opening the bathroom and smoke-break floodgates. Not this time. Taylor's younger brother, 20-year-old drummer Griffin Goldsmith, took over lead-singing duties (admirably) on the rollicking "How Far We've Come.” "Fire Away" is a drum- and keys-heavy ‘70s-style track that brings to mind Fleetwood Mac.

Which brings us to the encore, "A Little Bit of Everything.”

It's a tour de force. Honestly, I can't remember the last time I was affected as strongly by a song upon first listen. It's songwriting at its best. A beautiful melody, an infectious chorus, a captivating tale of hope and hopelessness, love and despair, fear and regret, with a dash of humor and a healthy slathering of wisdom. As soon as I had heard it, I couldn't imagine not having heard it. Know what I mean?

When I went home, I found a clip of it on Youtube and watched it a half-dozen more times. I didn't get the least bit emotional or weepy. As far as you know.

As we strolled out of the venue, Mike Tobias, a Davis local and an accomplished musician in his own right, exclaimed "An amazing show! What a treat it is to have a place like this in Davis!" It certainly was, and certainly is.

You have one more chance to catch a show during Sophia's Thai Kitchen Presents: 2011 Winter Concert Series at Odd Fellows Hall. (catch a show at the Independant Order of Odd Fellows Lodge! It's like an assembly, except awesome!)

If Telekinesis, The Love Language and Jake Mann & The Upper Hand put on half the show that Dawes, Corndawg and Harney did, you'll be in for a treat.

Womp Fest 2011

2011-01-29T03:29:12Z

I got my first taste of electronic music, like most of you, in the mid-'90s underground San Francisco rave scene.

You remember the ones. They didn't announce the location (usually a warehouse) until an hour before the party started, or about an hour after the time I now usually go to bed. You'd get there at like 1 a.m. and get loose to some house and trance and German techno (so efficient!) and unz unz unz unz unz unz and not get home ‘til about the time I now usually wake up.

You remember, don't you?

After college I took a long hiatus from the scene, broken up only by occasional (and usually accidental or coerced, or accidentally coerced. Or in Nevada.) forays into the club scene.

I was reintroduced to electronic music in the summer of 2009 when I had the privilege of going to a few electronica-fueled music festivals, Camp Bisco and Trinumeral. My mind was blown, and my passion for the genre rose, phoenixlike, from the ashes.

Let me tell you, they are doing some amazing things with electronic music these days. This ain't your grandma's techno.

Thursday night, Townhouse hosted the opening night of the second annual Sacramento Electronic Music Festival. As an avid fan of the womp womp and the weeooo weeooo, I decided to check it out.

Midtown was draped in an ominous fog as I biked up to the Townhouse. It would have been nice to have noticed that I didn't have my wallet before I locked up my bike, but I guess that just wasn't in the cards.

Midtown was draped in an ominous fog as I biked up to the Townhouse a second time, this time walleted.

"Great electronic music festival weather," I offered to the small throng gathered outside, waiting patiently for admission. (They were letting in about four people at a time so as to ease the pressure on the ticket-takers, including event co-creator Clay Nutting.) Everyone agreed wholeheartedly.

I entered the bar at 8:40 p.m. I left at 1:30 a.m. Some observations/goings-on in the interim:

- Though I am a huge fan of the genre, I am not exactly an expert or an aficionado. Good electronic music for me is something like hardcore pornography was to Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart: I can't define it, but I know it when I see it. And man I saw a lot of it on Thursday night.

- Fernie Fresh kept the downstairs bumping (womping?) along with a slew of other DJs. At times there were as many as three of them manning the booth at once, and the downstairs dance floor was peopled but not overly crowded all night, a nice respite from upstairs, which was elbow-to-elbow for most of the night.

- Pregnant was the first act I caught upstairs. A dude from Placerville, his guitar and a looping machine. I only caught a couple of his tracks, but they were pretty dope. I mean, he's got a ways to go to catch up with my man Zach Deputy, but I enjoyed it.

- When he was done I asked the dude spinning between sets if he had a schedule. "No, not really," he answered. "There's gonna be great music all night, just stick around." Prophetic. And a lot of it came from him. (He dropped "Computer Love" in there at one point. Always a good decision.)

- Thriftcar, from Auburn, was also dope. Two men playing (here’s where my lack of knowledge really comes in) MacBooks and several other things on a table in front of them. And one of them was a more than capable rapper. A friend of theirs mentioned that they "create beats on the fly" which, if true, makes it all the more impressive.

- Local act Sister Crayon is deserving of all the praise they have lavished upon them. And a lot heavier than I thought they'd be. Almost crunching at times.

- I was so fired up by Sister Crayon, and the other acts I'd seen, that I went up to a fellow I thought was organizer Clay Nutting (who I'd met for 30 seconds on the way in) and gushed about what a coup it was for Sacramento to have all this top-notch musical talent in town and how great the festival was for the credibility of the local music scene and yadda yadda yadda. He was also excited and agreed with me on all counts, before apprising me of the fact that he was in no way shape or form Clay Nutting. Turns out he was the Zach, the guitarist for. . .

- Tycho was probably my favorite act of the evening, and not just because of my bull in a china shop-like introduction to their guitarist. Beautiful, ambient melodies, driving beats, soaring, haunting vocals. They were f antastic.

- Daedelus was the headliner, and looked and acted the part. Dressed dapperly in a vintage suit, he came out and brought the house down. By the end of the set he, like the rest of us, was a sweaty disheveled mess with a huge smile on his face.

The best part about Thurday night?

It was only the beginning.

The Sacramento Electronic Music Festival continues Friday the 28th and Saturday the 29th. Doors open at 8pm both nights. Info and tickets can be found here.

David Lindley's gots licks, jokes.

2011-01-25T02:27:54Z

Friday night, legendary guitarist David Lindley played an early show at Harlow's night club.

I am embarrassed to admit that I hadn't known Mr. Lindley from Adam until a couple weeks ago when I received a note mentioning that Sacramento Press Editor-in-Chief David Watts Barton had suggested me, personally, for coverage.

D.W.B.'s recommendation was good enough for me. The man knows his music (even if he doesn't grok the Grateful Dead: blasphemy where I'm from). I agreed to cover the show without knowing a single thing about Lindley, or having heard a single note of his music.

A cursory glance at the YouTubes produced this, which was all I needed to see before concluding I'd made the right choice.

A cursory glance at his website reinforced the notion. The list of men and women with whom he's collaborated reads like the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame co-ed softball team: Jackson Browne, Linda Ronstadt, Bob Dylan, Rod Stewart, Graham Nash, Warren Zevon, Dolly Parton, Curtis Mayfield, James Taylor. . . I could keep going.

I arrived at Harlow's about 10 minutes after the 7:30 listed start time, having forgotten that even though an 8 p.m. start time means the show will start closer to 8:45 p.m., a 7:30 p.m. start actually means, a 7:30 p.m. start.

When I walked in, Pieta Brown was already on stage, accompanied only by her acoustic guitar and a lone microphone. Harlow’s was fairly packed. With it being an early show, the dance floor was chaired and tabled and fully peopled with folks enjoying the show from the comfort of their seats. A strikingly statuesque brunette, Pieta held the crowd’s rapt attention with her uniquely haunting voice and alt-folk-Americana sensibilities.

As I approached the bar to grab a PBR, I got to take in the second half of her song, "Rolling Down the Track."

At the end of the first entire song that I was privy to, "Closing Time," as the applause died down, a woman's voice rang out from the crowd, "You're awesome!" she said, and the applause rose up again.

"Thank you," the singer responded gratefully, before resuming her set.

She played until 8 p.m. on the button, with each song receiving as enthusiastic applause as could be hoped for from a 98 percent-seated audience. When she left the stage, she received a partial standing ovation, but quite a few of them were multitasking as they headed to the bar or lavatories.

I adjourned to the patio, where I joined a few smokers who were discussing what we'd just seen and, more importantly, what we were about to see.

When I admitted that I'd never seen Lindley in concert, and had only recently found out that he existed at all, one fellow castigated me lightly: "Man, he's a legend. You've never heard Jackson Browne's version of ‘Cocaine’?"

Another gentleman regaled me with a story of catching Jackson Browne at the OG Mountain Aire festival in the early 1980s. I think he said Night Ranger opened.

The consensus was that I was in for a treat.

At 8:18, the man himself took the stage, bracketed on three sides by all manner of stringed instruments. I'm pretty sure one of them was the taken directly from Whoville. A "FloomFloggle," I believe it was called.

I'm pretty sure the only time I'd seen another one was in the “Star Wars” cantina.

He opened with a track that I could only describe as Gaelic classical. He called it an old fife and banjo tune.

At the completion of the first tune, he began a running, quite funny, banter with the crowd.

The dude's got a quirky sense of humor, and it was on display nearly as much as his prodigious musical talent.
"I used to play at Disneyland . . . That's where I learned to drink." he said, pausing to let the thought sink in.
"Underneath the Matterhorn." The audience laughed, and a good-length pause followed.
"Oh shit, what's that smell? People getting high . . . running the Matterhorn," he said, slowly.

He reached to grab his next instrument, this one a fairly traditional guitar.

"Shouldn't have said that," he said with a laugh before beginning his next tune, a masterfully fingerpicked version of Levon Helm's "The Poor old Dirt Farmer."

"I'd like to follow an old Blues tradition, and sing you a drug song" he announced to the crowd before his next tune. "This is a drug many of us know and love . . . Excedrin."

The song was called "Little Green Bottle." The crowd ate it up.

Through the course of the evening, he probably used eight to 10 different guitars (Instruments? I’m not sure if they were all technically guitars), both lap and traditional.

Up next, a song by 1950s Greenwich New York folk quartet The Weavers called "State of Arkansas."

A question shot out from the audience – "Are you still crazy bout your Mercury?" – caused Lindley to go into a stellar Jimmy Stewart impression. (I admit I thought for a second he was giving us a Nixon. They kind of sound alike).

He followed this with, what else, a Ben Harper lap steel track, "Well, Well, Well."

He continued his "If it didn't work so well, I'd wonder where the Hell he comes up with this stuff" set with the Bruce Springsteen classic "Brothers under the Bridge."
It’s a great song, but also a great song to eat a gun to. He astutely chose to lighten the mood on his next ditty, his last of the set.
The next track, "When a Guy Gets Boobs (It don't look so good),” was just what the doctor ordered.

"He's funny as hell," offered the gentleman sitting at the table to my right, and I wasn't gonna argue with him. Even though man boobs are a medical condition, not a laughing matter, and I don't make fun of your gout, do I?

All right, I guess man boobs are kinda funny.

To raucous applause, he left the stage at 9:24 p.m., only to return to stage at . . . 9:24 p.m. He's been around too long to put on airs.

He encored with "Revenge will Come" by Southern California-based singer/songwriter Greg Copeland.

It was an incredibly eclectic and wonderfully performed set, if a bit subdued. And though I generally gravitate toward shows with active dance floors, I was able to more than make up for the lack thereof at the early show with some late night buffoonery at Momo's upstairs. I love Harlow's.

Nibblers at the Crocker

2011-01-22T01:58:47Z

Did you know that the Crocker Art Museum, as part of its recent 125,000-square-foot addition, added a 260-seat auditorium?

Not content with being the oldest (and arguably the awesomest) art museum west of the Mississippi, the Crocker is also now a pretty sweet little music venue to boot.

The museum is open every Thursday until 9 p.m. for its aptly named "Thursdays 'Til 9" program. The third Thursday of every month has been pegged "Playlist," a concert series that "highlights local, regional and national performers from musical genres as diverse as blues, reggae, indie, folk, country, bluegrass, rock, hip hop, world music and everything in between." (http://crockerartmuseum.org/learn-do/thursdays-til-9)

This week’s "Playlist" featured local funk/soul stalwarts The Nibblers.

The auditorium where they played is super-intimate, located off an alcove adjacent to the two-story atrium and Mulvaney-operated Crocker Cafe.

Many of the concertgoers had taken an early, farm-to-fork dinner in the lovely new space, enjoying a selection of wine, beer and even cocktails as they did so. Beverages are not allowed in the auditorium itself, but you could make out the music from the tables nearest the venue, if you were so inclined.

If you've never seen The Nibblers, you are missing out on something of a local treasure. In my nearly 11 months in town, I've caught them four times. The ubiquitous funk mavens played a great set at Cesar Chavez Friday Night Concerts in the Park, routinely tear it up on Second Saturday, more than held their own opening for Trombone Shorty at Harlow’s (no small feat), and I heard they played some mean guerrilla-style sets at High Sierra Music Fest.

They took the stage at 7:10 to raucous applause, which was soon followed by a sheer silence as the eight band members took their places on stage. For a moment, it took on the feel of a collegiate lecture hall or small symphonic performance. Lead singer Hans Eberbach broke up the the briefly awkward silence: "The chairs are bolted down, I checked, but that doesn't mean you can't get up and dance."

This was greeted with responding cheers, which carried right into the first song, "Love." Many fans danced in the aisles and the open walkways on either side of the plush red seats.

Several times during the set, the stage was rushed by precocious young fans.

Like, 3-year-olds.

The musicians embraced their young fans. "The Nibblers: good for kids, too," Eberbach joked.

It was a typically great Nibblers set – high-energy, straightforward New Orleans soul featuring some searing horn solos and funky beats.
They closed their first set with a rollicking "song about math," entitled "638." The song is actually about a racehorse, and the crowd pleaser invokes the fans to participate with a "Giddy up, giddy up now" call and response. Giddy up indeed.

At a bit after 8 p.m., they left the stage and implored the crowd to go check out some art during the intermission.

It is a museum, after all.

I, and many others in the crowd, adjourned upstairs to take in some culture with our, uh, culture.

After about 15 minutes, the museum speakers rang with the announcement that the band was about to return to the stage.

Unfortunately, I was not nearly ready to leave the gallery.

The third floor of the Crocker is up there with my very favorite spots in Sacramento. A quick list off the top of my head? The back patio at the Zebra, the right-field lawn at Raley Field, Harlow's, my bedroom and the third floor of the Crocker.

There's my Sacramento Mount Rushmore.

So I didn't return to the show, choosing instead to spend some more time with San Francisco's Norman Irving (I could spend an hour looking at his "My World and Yours . . . And the Gods Created the World in their own Image " by itself), Carmel's Clayton Pinkerton and my absolute favorite, San Francisco's (again!) Edwin Deakin, among others.

I doubt I was missed. They had to know they might lose a few of us when they sent us out there. . .

Upcoming “Thursday Til 9 “events can be found here.

Orgone and Zuhg > Monday

2011-01-19T02:47:47Z

Harlow's Nightclub was at the center of a perfect storm Monday.

Headliner Orgone brought in a decent crowd of folks looking forward to a unique brand of SoCal soulpowerfunk. Local reggae act Zuhg opened the show, bringing a sizable and impassioned young fan base looking forward to high-energy NorCal Jazzreggaejamrock.

Many of those who came for Zuhg weren't all that familiar with Orgone.

Most of those who came to see Orgone weren't all that familiar with Zuhg.

The beauty of this scenario is that if one were to draw a Venn diagram representative of the people who would like each of these acts, it would be very close to a single circle.

What ended up happening was the crowd for both acts was about half newbies getting caught up in the groove, looking around excitedly as if to get confirmation that what they were seeing was, in fact, this dope, and half die-hards, singing along to their favorites, answering the newbies’ glances with knowing nods, giving confirmation: Oh yeah, they are this dope.

It made for easily the best Monday night crowd, and show, I've ever seen at Harlow's. Inspired booking by my man Brian McKenna.

Zuhg took the stage about 8:45, opening with "Up to no good." In it's first incarnation, Zuhg featured one sax player, two drummers, two guitarists and a bassist.

These six members would remain on stage for the entirety of the set, but they were far from alone.

For their second song, the horn-heavy, bouncy reggae cut "Nothing You Can Do," off their 2010 EP “Fish Tank,” they were joined on stage by two more sax players. They made good use of the horn section as they came to a cacophonous crescendo interlude (reminiscent of the interlude in the Beatles classic "A Day in the Life") before going back into NYCD.

For their next song, they were joined on stage by a fourth sax player, although he did not stay long, preferring to take his horn with him into the crowd. I think the song they were playing at the time was called "Personality." I know it was a crunchy-ass jam.

A few more highlights of the Zuhg set included a cover of Jimmy Hendrix's "Let me stand next to your fire," and a twisted version of the "Inspector Gadget" soundtrack for which the band brought out an MC to spit hot fire. (Inspector MadSpit?).

The band then played a couple more tracks off the “Fish Tank” EP, "Dreams" and "Sexual." For these, the last member of the band, Charlie, a long-haired beatboxer who has mastered the art of dubby womp wompitty womp womp beatboxing, joined the musicians already on the stage.

He really got to stretch out his Wompboxing on their last song of the evening. I didn't catch the name of the song, but at one point, to the absolute delight of the audience, the exquisitely mustachioed fourth sax man went to his knees on the dance floor and leaned back till his shoulders were on the ground while belting out a mean solo.

The dude wearing a monkey and a sarong was especially stoked by the performance.

They left the stage to raucous applause a little after 9:30 p.m.

At 10 on the button, Orgone took the stage.

Orgone, which one of my buddies described, I think aptly, as "West-Coast Galactic" also had a three-man horn section, theirs featuring a trombone, trumpet and either a flute or a sax, depending on what the moment called for.

A keyboard, bass, guitar and two drummers rounded out the group as it was composed for the first song of the evening, “A WOT,” an instrumental jam off of the 2008 album “Killion Floor” featuring an epic flute solo.

The eight-piece became nine on its second song of the evening, a rollicking "Do your thing," from the same album, that brought the already-amped crowd to new heights. Newly arrived vocalist ~~Fanny Franklin~~ Sy Smith implored the audience: "If you feel like you wanna scream, and screaming is your thing . . . then scream."

The audience felt like screaming.

~~Fanny~~ Smith dedicated the next song, "Nassau," from, you guessed it, “Killion Floor,” to Chris, "Cool Chris," the aforementioned saronged-and-monkeyed audience member.
The track offered several members of the band a chance to show off their chops as ~~Fanny~~ Smith sang: "Listen to the drummer, he's gonna play a funky beat. . . . Listen to the bass player, he's gonna make you move your feet."

“Nassau” ended with an epic solo by the stand-up percussionist just violating the bongo, snare, cowbell and . . . more cowbell.

Prescription filled.

They continued to mine their 2008 album with the bluesy "Who Knows Who," went elsewhere for "Ain't No Use," before returning for another instrumental jam, "Hambone."

Miss ~~Franklin~~ Smith returned for the ode to all things '70s, "Welcome Back." (J.J says Dyno-mite!).

~~Fanny~~ Smith was a dancing, singing ode to the '70s personified with her giant red-tinged Afro, purple print shirt referencing said Afro, shiny gold skirt, purple fishnet stockings, pink belt and heels.

"Make sure to head over to the mercy table after the show: You might get someone's number," she announced before the next song. "Like Sergio. Sergio is known to give it up."

The next song? "Give it Up."

Orgone closed with another track off “Killion,” "I get lifted," ("Speaking of getting high") and a cover of the funkadelic classic, “Cosmic Slop.”

At 11:12 p.m., Orgone left the stage, only to return at 11:14 to raucous applause.

The musicians encored with "Do Your Thing" into "Honky," which turned into an extended instrumental jam featuring another epic flute solo. It's a rare (awesome) set that is bookended with searing flute solos, but then Orgone is a rare band.

It was a fantastic show featuring no less than 20 musicians between the two bands, and it was played in front of a packed and super-amped-up crowd. It was hard to believe it was a Monday night in Sacramento.

David Lindley at Harlow's

2011-01-19T01:01:05Z

Friday, renowned multi-instrumentalist David Lindley is coming to Sacramento for a gig at Harlow's.

The longtime Jackson Browne collaborator and front man of El Rayo-X has been one of Hollywood's most sought-after session musicians.

Lindley has lent his talents to the recorded works of such musicians as Bob Dylan, Rod Stewart, Linda Ronstadt, Warren Zevon, David Crosby, Graham Nash, Ben Harper and many others.

From David Lindley.com: The David Lindley electro-acoustic performance effortlessly combines American folk, blues, and bluegrass traditions with elements from African, Arabic, Asian, Celtic, Malagasy, and Turkish musical sources. Lindley incorporates an incredible array of stringed instruments including but not limited to Kona and Weissenborn Hawaiian lap steel guitar, Turkish saz and chumbus, Middle Eastern oud, and Irish bouzouki.

You get all that?

Should be a heck of a show.

David Lindley, with guest Pieta Brown

Friday, January 21st,

Doors open at 7:30 p.m.

Tickets are $25

Orgone coming to Harlows.

2011-01-15T08:07:29Z

or·gone n. A universal life force, a cosmic unit of energy, the creative force in nature.

Orgone n. A nine piece soul/funk ensemble from Los Angeles.

A staple on the Festival circuit (High Sierra Music Fest, Moe.down, South by Southwest, Jazzfest, to name a few) Orgone has opened for the likes of Al Green and Sharon Jones, and toured with the Roots and Greyboy Allstars.

I happened to catch a few minutes of their RV rooftop set at High Sierra and they absolutely killed it.

They are bringing their unique brand of powerfunk to Harlow's this coming Monday, the 17th.

Doors open at 8pm.

Opening for them will be local reggae act Zuhg.

Getting loose on the dancefloor will be me.

Tickets are $12

Image #1 is the property of Josh Miller.

Image #2 comes from Orgone's website.

Soulive, so good.

2010-12-16T04:10:14Z

The first thing that struck me were the hats.

I myself wear a "Country Gentleman" fedora, and on any given night, it is likely to be the sharpest lid in the joint.

But not Tuesday night at Harlow's.

Soulive was in town in support of their "Rubber Soulive" album, and the crowd was brimming with hats of all shapes and styles.

There were a smattering of standard-issue baseball caps and beanies, even beanies with brims.

But those aren't the hats I'm talking about.

The hats I'm talking about are your father's hats. And your grandfather’s (great-grandfather’s?) hats. Fedoras galore, both "Bogart" and "Safari." Newsboys. Buckets. Porkpies. I didn't see any top hats or fezzes, but pretty much everything else was represented.

My Country Gentleman wouldn't have even sniffed the top-10 were there to have been an impromptu "Keenest Hat of the Evening" competition. (Brought to you by Hyman's Haberdashery!)

It is fitting that the chapeau selection in the crowd would hark back to a time when men regularly wore hats with wonderful names like "porkpies" and "newsboys." The Soulive members themselves are a throwback, comporting themselves with an early '60s kind of cool.

I had a fair amount of time to consider the millinery in the building as I sat, eagerly awaiting the opening act – fellow Royal Family Recording artist Nigel Hall.

I'd been told over the phone that Nigel would be taking the stage at 8 p.m., but being the grizzled concert veteran that I am, I pooh-poohed the notion. 8:30 p.m. – that's the ticket.

I arrived just before 8:30 p.m. and took a seat in front of the stage. With no Nigel to be found, I turned my attention to the slowly (but steadily) growing crowd.

8:30 p.m. came, and went.

9 p.m. brought nary a peep from the stage. (But a sweet short-brimmed Panama hat joined the crowd).

9:15 p.m., and the natives began to get restless. (A snappy herringbone newsboy pulled up a chair to my left).

9:26 p.m. – The Nigel Hall Band, to the crowd’s great relief, took the stage.

TNHB is made up of Nigel Hall (sporting an oversized newsboy) and Evans brothers Neal (rocking a derby and mirrored aviators) and Alan (his impressive Sideshow Bob-like ’do probably proves headwear prohibitive).

The boys opened with a raucous "Leave me Alone," and the long wait was immediately forgotten.

All three men wore coats and ties, Alan pulverizing the drums stage right, Nigel front and center on keys, and Neal stage left, with a four-level rig of keys splayed out in front of him.

They slowed it down on the second song, the classic Leon Russell tune, "A Song For You." The song has been recorded by dozens of acts ranging from The Temptations to Ray Charles, Whitney Houston to Neil Diamond, The Carpenters to Bizzy Bone (seriously), but Nigel absolutely crushes it. His soulful crooning lends itself perfectly to the track, laid down so expertly by one of the best rhythm sections going. It was a simply beautiful rendition.

I wasn't able to place the third song, but I can tell you was a slower love ballad. Nigel loves you, "even if your breath is a funky in the morning," and "sometimes you make the toast a little crispy in the morning." So there's that.

They closed the abridged set with a rollicking Motownesque jam, and a Nigel Hall original, "Gimme a Sign."

After a very brief set break (one cigarette long, if that cigarette happens to be an American Spirit.), Soulive took the stage to boisterous applause. Harlow’s was only a little more than half capacity, but it felt like more with the inclimate weather (and crunchy jams) keeping everyone inside.

Neal and Alan returned to the stage, but this time they were bracketing guitarist Eric Krasno (also in jacket and tie, sporting a short-brimmed grey fedora). Neal had ditched the aviators. Alan had swapped out a bottled water for a Heineken. Other than that, the bookends were identical for both headliner and opener. The Royal Family is, for lack of a better word, incestuous. Of the 11 acts listed on the label, one or both of the Evans bros are in no less than six. It's a good thing.

Soulive opened with one of its classic tracks, "Rudy's Way", a bouncy, jazzy track off its first LP, “Turn it Out,” released in 1999.

It got the place jumping.

The trio followed that with a searing version of "El Ron", off Soulive's eponymous 2003 album.

It melted the paint off the walls.

Alan took a moment to address the crowd as it caught its breath. "How y'all feeling? We've been having a real good time on this tour. Looks like we're going to continue to do so." As you might imagine, the crowd responded very positively to his prognostication.

Up next was "Turn it Out," the title track on the aforementioned 1999 LP, and also the last track on the 2003 album. Neal absolutely blew the doors off on this one.

Neal Evans is one of the most amazing keyboard players on the planet. He plays bass and keys at the same time, and it's pretty spectacular to watch. For the entirety of both sets, Neal had a group of keyboardophiles smashed up behind and to both sides of him, straining to admire his digital dexterity. His phenomenal phalangeal ferocity?

Dude’s a beast on the keys.

They finished up the old-school opening portion of the set with a third track off "Turn it Out," “Uncle Junior.”

Next to "Uncle Junior" in my notes, I have written, "Forget it. Unreal."

I wish I could do you better, but for a moment I dropped my press hat and put on my dance pants. You're just gonna have to live with that.

We then entered the "Rubber Soulive" portion of the show. Their most recent album, for which they are touring, is made up of 12 instrumental Beatles covers, from throughout the Fab Four’s oevre.

They announced that they would be playing some tracks off their new album and went right into the unmistakable opening riff for "Come Together." (Shoom Boom, ba da bee. . . doo).

Without a singer, the vocals are mostly "voiced" by Erik Krasno's deeply emotive guitar playing.

Of course, every chorus and many of the verses are vocalized loudly by the enthusiastic fans in the crowd.

"Come Together" started off slow but built to a crushing crescendo. By the end of the jam, I thought a couple of the superfans perched over Neal's left shoulder might collapse in fits of keyboard-induced ecstasy. If they had, it would have been totally understandable.

They slowed it down a bit with another monster hit off "Abbey Road," the George Harrison-penned "Something," which is the perfect vehicle to showcase Krasno's affectional guitar work.

They then reached further back into the Beatles’ canon with "Eleanor Rigby," off the Beatles’ 1966 "Revolver." This may be my favorite of the tracks they chose to cover – it really lends itself beautifully to the trio. They absolutely destroyed it. Eleanor Rigby evolved into "I Want You (She's so heavy)," the final Beatles cover of the evening.

Nigel Hall returned to the stage to play a couple Royal Family mainstays, "Do the 2" and "Too Much." On the latter, Nigel and Krasno performed a dueling guitar of sorts, with Nigel mimicking guitar licks with Ella Fitzgerald-style scat singing, which Krasno answered with actual guitar licks.

Nigel took the time to thank the crowd for coming out and bringing the energy on this chilly and rain-soaked Tuesday evening, but he offered that it could be a lot worse. Some wiseacre-sometime-journalist who happened to be in the crowd offered up, "We could be in Maine", knowing full well that the singer made his bones in the Portland, Maine, music scene. The singer glanced over at the culprit, and replied with a smirk, "Well-said, brother."

Then they proceeded to absolutely obliterate the Tears for Fears '80s classic, "Rule the World," which Nigel proclaimed to be one of his favorite songs. As far as Tears for Fears songs go, "Rule the World" will always be second to "Mad World" in my book, but after seeing Soulive play it, the gap has lessened.

They finished the set with an extended jam on "Tuesday Night Gang," the high point of which was when Nigel joined Neal on the keys to stage left. The two kept alternating sides of the keyboards, swapping positions in an instant without missing a beat in the jam.
The Tuesday night gang that (half) filled the venue just ate it up. I'm pretty sure that one of the superfans next to the keyboards actually entered the throes of passion.

It was pretty epic.

They left the stage for a moment before returning one last time to encore with Stevie Wonder's "Signed, Sealed, Delivered." A fitting way to end the evening, and a great song, but I'd say it was probably the least-interesting cover of the night.

It was an outstanding performance by a formidable band. Next time Soulive, or Nigel, or any of the Royal Family is in town, do yourself a favor and go check them out. You certainly won't be disappointed, and you'll most likely have your socks knocked off.

Now where in this town can I buy a fez? I gotta step my game up.

All of the images are the work of the supremely talented and staggeringly well mannered Steven Chea

Soulive is coming!

2010-12-11T06:18:57Z

Do you have plans for December 14th?

Scrap them.

There is only one place that you're going to want to be on Tuesday, Dec. 14, and that place is Harlow's Nightclub, where Soulive will be making its one and only Sacramento appearance.

Soulive consists of Eric Krasno on guitar and brothers Neal and Alan Evans on keyboards and drums, respectively. If the names don't sound familiar, fret not. How about this (very partial) list of musicians with whom they've shared the stage over the past 10 years: Dave Matthews, John Schofield, Chaka Khan, Stevie Wonder, Fred Wesley, Ivan Neville, Robert Randolph, Keith Richards and Mick Jagger?

Musically, the New York three-piece knows no limits. Jazz, rock, blues, hip-hop, soul, funk, R&B: They do it all, and they do it all extremely well.

Their most recent album, which will be the focus of Tuesday's show, is a tribute to The Beatles, aptly titled "Rubber Soulive." They take 11 of th Fab Four's most well-loved hits, and while staying true to the original tracks, make them wholly their own. The album is a terrific homage to the boys from Liverpool, and that is no small feat for the boys from Brooklyn.

The show should be amazing.

Your other plans can wait.

The Gracious Few

2010-12-08T03:35:49Z

Candlebox and Live.

The two bands combined have sold over 25 million albums.

Candlebox's eponymous debut went platinum four times following its release in 1993, and peaked at #7 on the US Billboard Charts.

Live's sophomore effort, "Throwing Copper," released the following year, sold over 8 million copies, reached #1 on the US Billboard Charts, and included four Top 10 singles, two of which ("Selling the Drama" and "Lightning Crashes") reached #1. (I'm pretty sure that "Lightning Crashes" is – and will continue to be – the only number one hit in American history featuring "placenta" as a prominent lyric.)

At the peak of its fame, Live was among the biggest rock bands in the country, if not the world.

Hell, both bands played in front of well over a hundred thousand fans on the main stage at Woodstock ('94). Remember that cluster-show?

It was the one with the rain, mud and Green Day; not the one with fire, rape, and Limp Bizkit (Woodstock '99)

At any rate, three members of Live and two members of Candlebox, have collaborated to form The Gracious Few.

What would have been a rock supergroup 16 years ago, is today a small club headliner, and they came to Sacramento to play a gig at Harlow’s on Monday night.

Out of curiosity (morbid?) and a deep nostalgia for all things 1994, I decided to check it out.

I arrived around 8:30 p.m. to find Harlow’s about a third full and Crowded House’s "Don't Dream it's Over" playing on the sound system.

The trappings of the headliners’ former fame could be found in the copious equipment at the sides of the stage and by the soundboard, as well as the very impressive tour bus parked out front.

While the bus and the rigs would have been fitting during their mid '90's heyday, the crowd (or lack thereof) was a not so subtle reminder that we are a LONG way removed from 1994.

The opening act, Danielle Barbe, a young singer-songwriter out of Pittsburgh, took the stage with her backing band at around 8:40 p.m.

She cuts a striking figure on stage – a petite brunette beauty with a big booming voice. She probably is likened a lot to Alanis Morissette, and she should embrace the comparison. She has a charisma under the lights that lends one to believe that if she landed with the right producer/ collaborator she could certainly become a star.

On this night, however, the deck was stacked against her.

At no time during the nearly hour-long performance did anyone, save for a few cameramen and women, so much as venture onto the dance floor.

Her backing band soldiered on, but didn't really seem like they particularly wanted to be there. Even the comically over-emotive, heavily mascara-ed blonde spiky faux-hawked drummer with the red-checkered pocket square didn't seem to have his heart totally in it.

My suspicions were confirmed when I ventured outside between sets to overhear the following exchange between The Gracious Few's lead guitarist Sean Hennesy, who was on his way in, and the lead guitarist for Danielle Barbe, who was on his way out:

Sean Hennesy: "Hey man, how was your set?"

Barbe's guitarist: " It sucked."

He said it, not me. But I get it, it can't be easy to play to an unresponsive audience.

Probably the biggest response that they did get was when they played a 10 second tease of the first few bars of the Candlebox smash hit "Far Behind."

They did finish with a relatively inspired cover of Spacehog's "In the Meantime" that got some people banging their heads in the crowd.

The Gracious Few took the stage at 10:03 p.m., and looked every bit the rockstars that they had once been (still are?).

Guitarist Chad Tayler and bassist Patrick Dahlheimer turned their backs to the audience, and, facing their stacks, stroked the first crushing chords of the opening track, "Appetite," also the first single off their self-titled debut album.

The two former members of Live bracketed the third former member, drummer Chad Gracey, who battered away at his drum kit between them. Lead singer Kevin Martin took the stage wearing sunglasses and prowling from side to side like a caged animal. Lead guitarist Hennesy let fly some searing licks in the face of the crowd that had gathered in front of the stage. The throng was small, but agitated, and it was easy to see how these men had become such big stars in the first place.

After "Appetite," Martin began an easy dialogue with the crowd, one that would continue throughout the evening and belied his skill as a lead showman.

"We walked in today and said, ‘Fuck, this place is cool as shit,’" he said, before asking us rhetorically "Is this Sacramento?“

"You will hear the entirety of the new album, and some other stuff" he went on to announce, and he proved prophetic. They played every song on their self-titled debut album, recorded just up the road in Sausalito at Studio D. They also played one original that wasn't on their album called "Great Houses" and a cover of the Depeche Mode classic "It's No Good," which I found to be one of the evening’s highlights.

They had a dueling slide guitar solo going face to face during the Depeche Mode cover, and they actually slid seamlessly into about 45 seconds of the Rolling Stones classic "Gimme Shelter" before finishing it up.

I enjoyed "Guilty Fever," a bass driven bluesy rocker that once again featured one of those dueling guitar solo/ interludes that get me every time. (At one point Hennessy went into a riff off Jimi Hendrix's "Purple Haze" – always a crowd favorite.)

There was also a heartfelt rendition of "Crying Time," a tribute to a fallen friend, Wendell Green, who used to manage the Whiskey Bar in LA. (K.Mart introduced the song with a nod to David Alan Grier on “In Living Color” : "Wanna hear it? Here it goes." My mid '90's nostalgia meter went through the roof )

It was interesting to see these artists who had once been such big stars, reinventing themselves 15 years later as a club band and not looking back.

It would be very easy for the guys from Live to recruit a new singer and go on tour playing their old hits. Or Martin and Hennesy to just keep playing with Candlebox. Or, even better, for The Gracious Few to change their name to CandleLivebox and play all the greatest hits of both bands.

They could hit up the county fair circuit, and play in front of much bigger crowds than they saw Monday night. I mean, I saw Foghat at the California State Fair this summer and they had exactly ZERO original members in the band, but they still played in front of 1,200 folks.

It's laudable – what they’re doing – but I don't know if I necessarily agree with it. What I saw was an OK, but ultimately forgettable show. Now a CandleLivebox show? That I'd remember.

all images are the superlative work of the lovely and talented Steven Chea.

Keller Williams returns

2010-11-20T02:58:34Z

Keller Williams made his triumphant return to Sacramento on Thursday night in front of a packed house at Harlow's. If the success of last night’s show is any indication, we won't have to wait another dozen years before his next visit.

The place was already jumping when I arrived a little before 8:30, and fans kept pouring in to the one-man jam band’s first set, which began just after 9 p.m.

Keller came on stage alone, as he is wont to do, strapped to an acoustic guitar. A stand to his right held an electric bass, in playing position, ready to be fingered. A stand to his left held an electric guitar, ditto. Behind him were several other electronic noisemaking implements, including a Macintosh laptop.

One of the most important tools of his trade lay at his (bare) feet, the loop pedal that he uses to record, well, loops that he layers on top of one another in order to create music that would otherwise necessitate three, four, five or more musicians to play.

As he went from instrument to instrument, a familiar tune began to develop. I couldn't quite place it until he brought a theretofore unnoticed instrument out, a trumpet. It was easy to miss because he was performing his trumpet solo using only his mouth. We were listening to a cover of the Van Morrison classic, "Moondance."

The show was peppered throughout with covers, including, ironically, or maybe not, "Pepper" by the Butthole Surfers, which Keller and the Keels cover on their recent release, "Thief." The song was a huge hit in 1996, reaching No. 1 on the Billboard charts. Then the Butthole Surfers fell off the face of the Earth (it's true, look it up).

Keller cherry-picked another outstanding one-hit wonder, Dee-Lite, playing an inspired version of 1990's feel-good song of the summer (I know, it was released in November, but it was so feel-good it transcended the seasons, and quite possibly space and time), "Groove is in the Heart." I'm not sure if there is truth to the rumor that he chose these two tracks in order to show off his prodigious rapping skills, but if the shoe fits...

Lest you think he was relying too much on ’90s MTV covers, he mixed in a rollicking cover of Patterson Hoods (Drive-By Truckers) southern rock anthem, "Uncle Disney," another track off of "Thief."

Later, belying his deadhead hippie roots, and to the delight of the white kids with dreadlocks contingent in the crowd (sizable), he broke into the Grateful Dead classic "Saint Stephen," which first appeared on “Aoxomoxoa,” but I remember it more from my young hippie starter kit, "Skeletons From the Closet."

As much as the crowd responded to the covers, it was the original songs that brought the crowd to it's frenzied apex. Keller’s songs are exceedingly danceable and are all marked by the songwriter’s playful sensibilities. He's a first-rate storyteller, and his stories are funny. At times, laugh-out-loud funny.

"Doobie in my pocket" is an autobiographical tale of an airport realization that "Theres a doobie in my pocket of my shirt in my suitcase," and the ensuing hysterics that said realization elicits. By the time he reaches the payoff, ("I'm wearing the shirt with the doobie in my pocket, it was never in my suitcase, I was wearing it the whole time") it's the crowd that is in the throws of hysterics.

"Kidney in a Cooler" is a song about breaking down in the middle of nowhere. The crowd can really get behind a refrain of "perpendicular teeth" repeated eight times. That's just good fun.

Perhaps the best example, especially considering the locale, was his closing song. "I love California" is what it sounds like, an ode to the Golden State. Heavy on the tongue in cheek. His love comes with caveats. For example: the lyric, "I love California, but only for a short while/If I lived there, my brain would certainly be mush, Willie Nelson-Mendocino Kush," citing a particularly potent strain of our state plant.

He goes on to poke fun at our thin skins ("I think its funny when it's 70 outside, and they grab their winter coats") and high rents, and the crowd full of Californians ate up every second of it. The duality of the song helps it go over just as well outside of the 31st state in the Union.

I had seen Keller twice before, but both times it had been at large festivals, with backing bands. In essence, I hadn't really seen him before. It was a wholly different experience to see him up-close and solo, jumping from one instrument to the next, emoting roguishly as he does so. I highly recommend it. It was the feel-good concert of the summer. (I know, I know, its November).

Images #'s 1 through 8 are the work of the supremely talented Steven Chea. The rest are the "work" of yours truly.

Keller Williams, bringing his talents to Sacto

2010-11-17T01:54:12Z

Keller Williams seemingly does it all.

And this Thursday, for the first time in over a decade, he will be doing it in Sacramento.

The multi-talented guitarist/bassist/singer/songwriter/percussionist/radio host/children's book author is coming to Sacramento on Thursday for three separate performances: The first two as part of Yo Gabba Gabba! Live at Memorial Auditorium, and the last as the headliner at Harlow’s.

As for the former, having recently released a children’s album, aptly titled "Kids," Williams was a natural addition to the concert tour based on the hit Nickelodeon TV show of the same name.

As for the latter, the Fredericksburg, Va. native is a staple on the festival circuit, known for his virtuosity and ability to enthrall a packed house (or field) all by his lonesome.

The one-man band took time out before a Yo Gabba Gabba! show in Eugene, Ore. to speak with me about his recently released albums, his upcoming appearances in Sacramento, his love of San Francisco, and my favorite spots in Eugene, among other things.

My first attempt to reach him was picked up by his voicemail ("Yo, when that beep drops ... speak!")

My second attempt was far more successful.

The Sacramento Press: Thanks for taking the time out to speak with me this afternoon. I had the privilege catching your set at The Gathering of the Vibes in 2009, and then again last month at Hardly Strictly Bluegrass with the Keels. I enjoyed both sets immensely.

Keller Williams: Thanks man.

SP: What did you think about Hardly Strictly?

KW: That was actually the second time that I've played there ... it's a great event. It pretty much just speaks volumes to that whole area and the history of the music … and how the whole idea of the free show came about. So that was a real honor for me to play both times. This last time was really cool because the stage that we were on had Moonalice, Railroad Earth, Yonder and the Avetts. It was really a special time. The whole lineup, the amount of famous people performing there, milling around was just unbelievable. I just love San Francisco and was very grateful to be a part of that festival both times, for sure.

SP: I recently tried to describe your music to a friend who had never heard you before, and I think I failed pretty miserably. I think I went with jamgrassreggaefolk, all one word. How would you describe your sound or style to someone who hasn't heard you before?

KW: I would say that your definition is pretty close. A common thing that I say is jazzfunktechnoreggaegrass ... Jazzfunkreggaetechnograss. Or to simplify you could say something like, you know, solo acoustic dance music.

SP: I wanted to ask you, since we were talking about you with the Keels, about your new album, "Thief." It's a really eclectic mix of covers. “Rehab” is one that sort of jumps out at me when reading and listening to it, but as someone who came of age listening to alternative rock in the early '90s, I love the Cracker, Marcy Playground and Butthole Surfer covers. I think those were inspired. How'd you go about choosing the songs for the album?

KW: Well the funny thing is that they kinda choose me in the sense that they creep into my psyche and they get stuck in my brain. I wake up singing them and go to bed singing them ... I have to kinda learn to play them and record them in order to get them out of my head, you know what I mean?

SP: Your other new release is "Kids." What was the inspiration behind it?

KW: I think that the inspiration behind that started with a record called "Not for kids only," by Jerry Garcia and David Grismen. I was listening to that long before I had kids, and then I had kids and listened to all kinds of kid music and get inspiration from my kids. A lot of people have told me, before I put out the kids record that my music is generally playful and their kids like it, so it’s been something I've been kicking around for a long long time. Some of the songs on the record I made up even before I had kids. I'm really happy that I finally got it out, and the response has been super positive.

SP: Is the process different when you're writing for children?

KW: My approach is pretty much to write from the perspective of the kid and kinda go in that direction. Never trying to speak down to them, trying to relate to them...

SP: I think that comes through on the album. It definitely doesn't seem like it's patronizing at all. It's fun, and it's fun for everyone.

KW: That was the hope behind it, at least.

SP: How did you get involved with Yo Gabba Gabba!?

KW: One of my good buddies who used to be a manager of mine is now the executive producer of the show, and they do so many shows all over the country, so there were lots of opportunities. I got lucky on this Pacific Northwest run.

SP: So what can fans expect at the Yo Gabba Gabba! show, from you specifically, but also just in general?

KW: Well, I am part of the Super Music Friends segment. The show runs kinda like two Yo Gabba Gabba! TV shows. I get wheeled out there about 15 minutes into the first set, and I play my one song for four minutes, then I get wheeled off, and then I'm done. The show runs like a science project. It's like a very well thought-out machine that's totally dialed-in, like second nature. The thing is, you watch the reaction of the kids in the audience, and they are totally entertained and enthralled. It's like a rock show for the kids. The kids can rush the stage if they want ... it's really interesting.

SP: So then who's the tougher crowd, the auditorium full of amped-up 6-year-olds or the club full of liquored-up adults?

KW: Well, you know the thing that I do with Yo Gabba Gabba! is only four minutes ... If I was up there for a whole hour with the kids and stuff, I'd say that would be way more difficult. I'm only up there for four minutes, and I'm doing a lot of intricate looping where I record different percussion instruments and loop it right there in front of the audience, and hopefully I can keep ’em entertained for a few minutes, which is all I have.

SP: Have you ever been to Sacramento before?

KW: I did ... I was thrown on this bill a long time ago, it was probably ’97 or ’98. I was first of like four acts at this little club ... I don't remember the name, but I haven't been back since. I play a lot all around California, some places close to Sacramento, but I haven't had the chance to do a show recently in Sacramento, and I'm looking forward to it.

SP: We're very glad to have you. We feel like we're sometimes overlooked up here, but it's a really good music town.

KW: Well good, I'm looking forward to it. It's kind of exciting to go back to a place I haven't been. When I played before, I might as well not have played. There were probably a dozen people in the room, and there were three or four other bands ... it was bizarre.

SP: After you're done with the kiddies and Yo Gabba Gabba! in the afternoon, you're doing a show for the adults at Harlow’s. What can we expect there?

KW: Well, you can expect a show that's deeply rooted in solo acoustic guitar and singing, and then there's also lots of dance grooves and songs that you have heard before, possibly done in a different way. You can expect new original songs as well as songs off my records. And you can hopefully expect young and hungry hairy people bumping into each other, singing, dancing and having fun.

SP: Sounds good to me … Would you accept a request to play "Mama Tooted" at the Harlow's show?

KW: (Laughs) You know, I try to keep the two worlds separated. If you yell it to where people can actually hear you yell it ... maybe I'll dedicate a segment of the show to requests and maybe, just maybe, I'll get to play that one.

SP: You're teaming up with Conscience Alliance for a Holiday Meal Drive. Did you want to speak on that at all?

KW: The Conscience Alliance people are great, great people. They are definitely into the music, they go to the music that they like. They feed hungry people in rural areas, they do a lot of work on Indian reservations and places like that. Now that the holidays are rolling around, they do the whole Thanksgiving dinner for many people too. It's a really great grassroots type of organization that does a lot of good for a lot of people.

SP: I've wondered about your song "Freeker by the Speaker." Was this inspired by one particular freeker, or is it an amalgam of several?

KW: Yeah, I think that was just from being on stage with my eyes open and observing what was going on in the audience. I can't really do that that often ’cause there could be some kind of drama ensuing in the audience, and I have to memorize lyrics and chords and whatnot. A lot of times I have to keep my eyes closed to focus on what I'm doing, not get caught up on what’s happening up front. I would say it's the culmination of the stereotypical young rave kid coming to a show. In the late '90s and the early 2000s when the raves weren't happening and going on, we'd get some of those kids at our shows and that's kinda where that song came from.

SP: Are you still doing Keller’s Cellar?

KW: Uh-huh. We've done about 158 episodes, and I think I'm on in about 45 cities. It's a great hobby, its a very expensive hobby, but at the same time it's really so fun to make. I do put a lot of time into each episode, and I get to be very self-indulgent when it comes to the music. I don't play anything ’cause I'm trying to push somebody. People send me stuff all the time, but I play the stuff that I want to play and I that I want to hear, which is really, really fun to do.

SP: You got back together with String Cheese Incident over Halloween. How did that go, and is that something that we can maybe hope for a bit more of in the future?

KW: No. String Cheese, they did 11 shows this year, and I think they were pretty satisfied with that. I think they might do somewhat of the same thing next year, too. We've done a lot of shows together. I guess it was probably '97, '98, '99 ... I probably did 30-plus shows with them a year, you know, opening for them, not really me being in the band. I think they are kinda moving on into new territory. They don't want to become, whats the word? Predictable. They don't want to become predictable. I'm grateful to be able to hang out with those guys whenever I can. Nothing is really on the books as far as us playing together. I think the way that they're doing it now is fantastic … They sold an amazing amount of tickets to the Hampton Coliseum for those two nights. I think it's a super-positive direction that they’re going – not playing all the time so the shows that they do play are really special.

SP: Is there anything else coming up that you wanted to talk about?

KW: No, I think you did great man.

SP: Thanks a lot. Are you in Eugene right now?

KW: I am...

SP: That's where I went to college. I don't know if you've eaten yet, but Alexander’s Great Falafel on 13th right next to campus is the best falafel sandwich I've ever had in my life. I have dreams about it. Also, if you want to grab a beer after the show, John Henry's on Broadway is a great spot.

KW: All right, John Henry's. I'll check it out, thanks so much.

Keller Williams will be appearing:

at 3 and 7 p.m. Thursday with Yo Gabba Gabba! at Memorial Auditorium, 1515 J St. Tickets are $26, $36 and $46 and can be purchased by calling (916) 808-5181.

at 9 p.m. Thursday for a solo show at Harlow's, 2708 J St. Tickets are $22.50 and can be purchased by calling (916)441-4693.

If you come to the Harlow's show, be sure to say hi. I'll be one of the (not so) young and hungry hairy people bumping into each other, singing, dancing and having fun.

One Scary Night

2010-11-02T02:18:14Z

It was December, 1991, I was an eighth grader and I had just received my winter grades. My parents had promised to buy me a CD for every A I earned, so I was especially thrilled to see four of them on my report card.
   Four A’s. Four CDs. The first CDs I'd ever own. Read ’em and weep: Jesus Jones’ "Doubt," Nirvana’s "Nevermind," Boyz II Men’s, "Cooleyhighharmony" and Bell Biv Devoe’s "Poison."
   I can't explain away the Jesus Jones decision. I wish I could blame it on the pot or the drinking, but the only pot that chubby 13-year-old me dabbled in was pies, and the only unhealthy drinking I was doing was that of strawberry milkshakes.
   Nirvana and Boyz II Men would soon become two of the biggest groups of the '90s. "Nevermind" is one of the greatest albums of all time, and "End of the Road" is still played at eighth grade graduations every spring. (I like to keep track of that sort of thing).
   That brings us to Bell Biv Devoe (now. . . you know). Of the albums I bought that day, I may have been most excited about "Poison." The title track, along with "Do Me," fully captured my 13-year-old imagination.
   Even though I had little idea what it meant, I was fairly certain that I too wanted to "smack it up, flip it and rub it down" one day.
Lest you think they were simply glorifying sex to impressionable adolescents, "Poison" made it clear that the theme park of love also had a seedy underbelly. It was practically a PSA. Without BBD, I might be walking around today, trusting a big butt and a smile.
   Bell Biv Devoe was the headliner at Friday night at "One Scary Night II," presented by Deon Taylor and 102.5 KSFM, at the California Auto Museum.
   The event was billed as "Sacramento's Hottest Halloween Dance Party," and I think that it lived up to the billing, for the most part.

There were some unfortunate, but ultimately forgivable, missteps, however:

–The event flier prominently featured Flavor Flav. I, and many other partygoers, expected the original hype man to be in attendance. He was not – he had attended the 2009 edition. (This was more of a misdirection than a misstep).

–Partygoers were promised a "HUGE celebrity guest list including Denise Richards, Stacey Dash, Bobby Jackson, Mitch Richmond, Michael Berryman and MANY more." Denise, Stacey and Mitch were all no-shows. If you’re gonna list celebrities who aren't gonna be there, you could have at least gone with some bigger names.

–The two front bars ran out of change at 9:45 p.m. The party didn't even officially start until 10 p.m. (Luckily I had $20 in ones).

–The bars started running out of booze by 10:30. The front bar had only beers and tequila by 11 p.m. They were out of beers at one of the bars next to the dance floor before Bell Biv Devoe took the stage.

–There was only one bathroom for the whole event, and the line for the women’s room was worse than the lines for the booze. The men's room soon became unisex.

Thankfully, the party was able to overcome the myriad issues, thanks in large part to a really great crowd. A few other saving graces:

–The celebrities who did attend were gracious and convivial:

–Mark S. Allen was the MC (seemingly in accordance with Sacramento law) and was his usual gregarious self. He came dressed as a Chilean miner, complete with his own rescue pod. "Are you the mistress or the wife?" was his stock line. (There were a few miners about, but he knocked his out of the park. Maybe he had the Good Day interns help him with it).

–Michael Berryman, of "The Hills Have Eyes" fame, was a delight. The first celebrity to arrive, he signed every autograph, posed for every picture and was exceedingly upbeat and positive. When asked about one of his upcoming roles, he offered simply, "I just love the craft." (I was talking to him about a movie he did, “Dirtmaster,” when he offered some sage words of advice: "Don't do steroids. That shit will kill you." I'm not sure what inspired the comment, but pretty sure it was not my chiseled physique.)

–Larenz Tate and Tyrin Turner were in attendance and "together for the first time since ‘Menace to Society.’ " Regardless if that’s true, they too were imminently approachable and spent a good portion of the evening posing for photos and talking to fans.

–The "Staff Monsters" were fantastic. They were more than 100 zombies, ghouls, monsters and crazies who wandered the party and stayed in character at all times. They really set a spooky, surrealistic mood for the evening.

–Obsidian Butterfly and Jack Sparksprovided fire and electricity-based entertainment in front of the venue, keeping those waiting in line to get in entertained and upbeat.

–Claude the Dragon. A 10-foot-tall, 20-foot-long fire-breathing animatronic dragon made from found materials? Yes please.

–The music. There were a bunch of DJs, and the dance floor was hopping all night.

–The costumes. The partygoers went all-out, and there were some outrageous getups. A few of my favorites were a "the paparazzi," Gilly, The Predator and, of course, countless sexy nurses, sexy police officers, sexy schoolgirls, sexy pumpkins, sexy orthodontists, sexy podiatrists, etc.

–Maino. Apparently he's a famous rapper, but I'd never heard of him before he walked up the red carpet. I had heard his track "All the Above" before, however, and he killed it on stage. Some rap acts struggle in live performances to measure up to the heavily produced studio sound of their albums. Maino had no such problem. I was very impressed. (I was kinda hoping that he was from Maine, and that was how he got his name, because that would be awesome. Alas, a cursory Wikipedia perusal tells me he's from Brooklyn. Maino is short for Jermaine. Sort of. The Pine Tree State is still waiting for its first rap superstar.)

–Bell, Biv Devoe. The boys didn't hit the stage till after 1 a.m., and they only played a three-song set, but the three songs they did, they did well. "B.B.D. (I thought it was me)" into "Do Me," into "Poison." They have been playing these three songs (only these three songs?) for the last 20 years, and they have them down pat. The sound could have been a little better, but their dance moves were surgical in their precision and oh-so-1991. 13-year-old me was so ecstatic he spilled his milkshake.

All of the images are the work of the supremely talented Steven Chea. With a "v".

Truth & Tea

2010-09-30T03:10:35Z

   I'd been in Harlow's for almost 10 full minutes Tuesday night when a fellow that I'd exchanged brief pleasantries with on the way in approached me at the bar. "Hey man, we're gonna go burn if you're interested."
   After a lengthy internal deliberation, I declined his kind offer. It was up to me, you see, to relay the evenings events to you, kind reader, and that's a responsibility I take very seriously. I wouldn't have my perceptions dulled by anything stronger than PBR. At least not until the set break.
   Truth & Salvage Co. was opening for San Francisco's Tea Leaf Green, and though I'd never seen either group live before, as the crowd rolled in, I felt a rush of familiarity – something akin to déjà vu. I may not have seen these guys before, but we certainly run in the same circles.
   Tea Leaf Green has been on my radar since it was coming of age in the burgeoning San Francisco jam scene of the late 1990s. The musicians have toured voraciously in the years since, and became known for both their improvisational acrobatics and their soulful songwriting. I'm not really sure how I managed to go so long without catching them live.
   Truth & Salvage was born in Hollywood in 2005, but the bands roots and soul lie in places as disparate as Asheville, N.C.; New Orleans; Indianapolis; Tupelo, Miss.; Atlanta; deep-southern Ohio and, I like to think, in the backseat of a Greyhound bus, rolling down Highway 41. It is an unusual six-piece band featuring four singer/songwriters, each of whom brings a unique voice to the group.
   At 8:25, I took my PBR out back to have a smoke. As the door closed behind me, I realized that the the back patio was not open. It was, instead, a de facto backstage area. To my chagrin, the door had locked behind me. To my relief, the band members out back took me in graciously.
   My happy misstep afforded me the opportunity to meet two of the four singer/songwriters. Bill "Smitty" Smith and Walker Young were gracious hosts and offered me a seat. We discussed High Sierra Music Festival(It's the best), deep-southern Ohio (Turns out that both Smithy and I are blessed, or afflicted, with roots therein), the Pacific Northwest (All agreed it's a wonderful place when the sun is shining, as it had been for the last two weeks as they toured there) and when they were going on (in two minutes).
   I walked through the backstage with the band and zigged toward the bar as they zagged toward the stage.
   They took the stage at about 8:45 and went immediately into the jubilant "Hail, Hail," the first track off their recent eponymous debut album. The song is a perfect opener, with a chorus both welcoming and celebratory ("Hail, hail, the gang's all here, with their heads full of reefer and their bellies full of beer"). It's a testament to their songwriting that, though I'd never heard the track before, it immediately felt familiar.
   This would become a theme for the evening.
   The next few songs I had listened to a couple times on their website earlier that day. If the songs that I'd never heard felt familiar, the songs that I had heard even once before felt like dear old friends. You know how a song from your past can sometimes trigger in you a flood of memories and emotion? "Heart Like a Wheel" was the third song they played, and it had that same effect on me. A song that I'd first listened to just hours earlier was eliciting a sense of melancholy for a phantom memory that never was. Powerful stuff.
   They played nearly their entire album, plus a couple extras, and there was nary a low point. It's hard to put a label on music generally, and in this case even more so, but hey, that's why they pay me the big bucks: Imagine you took southern rock, country, folk, blues, classic rock and New Orleans jazz and put them all into a mortar, and using Los Angeles as a pestle, made a musical guacamole. That musical guacamole is brought to you by Truth and Salvage Co.
Mmmmmm, musical guacamole. Eat your heart out Robert Cristgau.
   By the time the band finished up with, fittingly, the last track on its album, "Pure Mountain Angel," they had the fans who had come specifically to see them in a fervor, and they had gained at least one fan for life, although I'm guessing it's a lot more than that.
   Tea Leaf Green has a much larger local following than do the boys from T&S, so a lot of fans were trickling in during the openers' performance, and even more showed up after they had finished (gross miscalculation on their parts). By the time Tea Leaf Green took the stage sometime after 10 p.m., the crowd had more than doubled in size.
   The musicians opened with "California," a song that has been in their repertoire since the 1990s, and it set their loyal fan base into a body-twirling, head-shaking, fist-pumping, hippy-shaking tizzy that lasted the entirety of their 90-minute set.
The members of TLG are all fantastic musicians, and they have honed their improvisational skills to a fine point over the last 13 years of playing nearly nonstop. In 2007, Reed Mathews replaced founding member Ben Chambers on bass, but he seems to meld seamlessly with the original members.
   Josh Clark, guitarist and vocalist, bantered a bit with the crowd. "We're all friends here, right? Trevor needs a whiskey drink," he said, referring to keyboardist and fellow vocalist Trevor Garrod. A little while later, shots arrived on stage.
"I guess I'm gonna be drinking some whiskey here in Sac," he said. The statement proved prophetic when, moments later, to shouts of encouragement from the crowd, the band banged down the shots.
   As the set went on, It became clear that nearly everyone in the crowd seemed to know nearly every one of the words to every one of the songs. This was not their first rodeo.
   I enjoyed their set, especially several of the extended jams. A few of the high points for me were a boisterous, rollicking "Not Fit" and "Red Ribbons," both off of "Raise the Tent," their first album with Reed on bass, and one that I think I may have to invest in. Both tracks held up as songs but also served as canvases for extended jams that brought the crowd to a lather.
I also really liked "One Reason," as it was the only track that I knew well enough to sing along to, and thus, the only one where I fit in with the crowd.

Overall, it was a fantastic show. Both bands impressed, Tea Leaf Green was very good, and I would definitely check them out again. Truth & Salvage was a game changer. I think everyone should go see them, every chance they get. I certainly will be.

Trombone Shorty is ready. Are you?

2010-09-15T02:30:35Z

Trombone Shorty is blowing up. The onetime child prodigy (he started playing at age three, was a bandleader at age six and was touring the world with Lenny Kravitz at 18) is now 24, and he's everywhere. Maybe you saw him on stage with The Dave Matthews Band at the "NFL Opening Kickoff 2010." Or maybe you've seen him on HBO's hit show "Treme." Perhaps you caught him and his band, Orleans Avenue, on Letterman a few months back.

If you have yet to experience Trombone Shorty and his unique brand of "supafunkrock," despair not – you'll have plenty more opportunities, beginning with his show Friday night at Harlow's.

He agreed to take a few minutes out of his very busy schedule to speak with me from his Dallas hotel room.

But first I had to find him, which proved harder than expected.

I'd been told to call the hotel at 6:30 p.m. and ask to be connected to Troy Andrews' (his given name) room. At 6:30 on the dot, I made the call, and the following exchange took place:

"Can you please put me through to Troy Andrews' room?" I asked the nice lady who answered.

"It's Troy Andrews?'

"Yup."

"A-N-D-R-E-W-S?"

"yup"

"I'm sorry, there's no one here by that name."

At this point I was totally befuddled. Did I get the wrong number? I'd already had to reschedule the interview once, now this. Maybe this just isn't in the cards.

"Is he staying under another last name or another first name?"

"Well," I thought I might as well give it a shot, "how about Trombone Shorty?"

"Can you spell that last name for me?"

"S-H-O-R-T-Y"

". . . Yes, please hold while I connect you."

A moment later, Troy picked up the phone.

The Sacramento Press: First off, I wanted to say thanks, I know you're really busy. I caught your set at High Sierra Music Fest over the fourth and was floored: You guys were amazing

Trombone Shorty: Aw, thank you man. I can't even remember that far back.

SP: Up in the mountains, Northern California?

TS: I remember, I can't remember everything that happened. . .

SP: Well, you know what? Neither can I. It was a good weekend, though, and you guys were amazing. You're coming out for Hardly Strictly Bluegrass in a couple of weeks, too. Have you ever played that one before?

TS: No, I've never played that one before, but I've heard a lot of great things. My friends Galactic played it, I think last year, and they were raving about the festival. So, I've never played it myself, but I've heard great things about it, and I'm very, very excited to be able to come this year.

SP: Absolutely, It's an amazing thing that Warren Hellman is doing, putting that on for free for the fans. You actually played at Harlow's here in Sacramento earlier this year, do you have a soft spot in your heart for Sacramento?

TS: Yeah man, there's always a . . . the reception is good. It's a music town, you know? The people are great there. Whenever I come back, it always feels like home with the reception everybody gives me. A lot of love. It's a wonderful place.

SP: That is fantastic. Some people opine that we get skipped over a lot, so it's fantastic that you don't forget about us.

TS: Oh no, I can't.

SP: What can your fans expect at your show? And also, just a little something for people who maybe haven't heard you before.

TS: Well, the fans can definitely expect us to be doing a lot of material off the record ("Backatown"), also some impromptu stuff. Just high-energy funk, rock – make sure they bring their dancing shoes – it's gonna be a wonderful time. And for the new people . . . I guess they'll be a shock.

SP: I was hoping you could talk a little bit about "Treme." David Simon is amazing. "The Wire," I think, was the best show I've ever seen. What's that been like?

TS: It's been really good. When I go in and do my part, I only do my part. I don't know the rest of the storyline, and I'm not sure where I fit in at that particular moment, then when I see everything, it makes sense. David Simon, he's a great writer and producer. It's been a great opportunity for me and a great learning experience . . . learning a few things on the acting side of it. Also, it's very authentic about it. Some of the things I see is really real. It's what the New Orleansean people, what we see and what we do. They really got inside of it and found a way to translate it to TV, and nobody's ever been able to capture that. Ever.

SP: What was it like working with Wendell Pierce? (who played Det. Bunk Moreland in "The Wire" and plays Antoine Batiste in "Treme")?

TS: It was good, we're good friends. I've been knowing him for a couple years. I remember him telling me about "Treme" before "Treme" even came about. He said, "I'm working on this project we're gonna do called 'Treme,' and I gotta start playing Trombone." This is maybe two, three years before they even did it. I'm like, "Wow, we gonna have to practice together." It's been great. He always gives me some acting tips and always makes me feel very comfortable when I'm doing my scenes with him . . . very helpful, and I can't thank him enough for showing me some little tricks and different things – how to relax. He's a great person.

SP: How much of the final product have you actually had a chance to see?

TS: Well, I've only seen the first two of them. I did like four or five of them, but I've only seen two of them. From what I've seen, they did a very, very great job. Some of the things that happen on there . . . I can go right outside my house, and there's Rebirth Brass Band second lining up the street for a jazz funeral or somebody's birthday party, anything. I think they did a wonderful job.

SP: Who Dat?

TS: Who Dat?!?

SP: How'd the Thursday Night Football extravaganza go for you?

TS: Oh, it was good. To be able to come out with Kermit Ruffins and be a surprise guest with Dave Matthews in front of my hometown was a true blessing. Full of excitement, happy to be in town, happy to be able to make it work for me to be there during that time.

SP: Was the Saints championship big for you?

TS: It was big for everybody. It meant so much to everybody, people that's not from New Orleans were rooting for the Saints. It meant as much to us as those people. It was just one of those moments, you know?

SP: Are you excited to be going on tour with Dave Matthews Band this . . . ?

TS: I'm very excited. Earlier this year I was just thinking to myself, secretly to myself . . . I was like, "Man, maybe, one of these days, if we get a chance to play with Dave Matthews, open up for him, that would be amazing." Another amazing event that happened in life. I'm a big fan of Dave – I've watched his stuff. And then it came true! I've never told nobody that, and I just get a call out of the blue, and I'm like, "Whoa."

SP: You didn't make the call? Someone called you? Your wish came true?

TS: It was just me, thinking inside my head, and it came through this year.

SP: Aw man, dreams do come true. That's fantastic. How was Letterman?

TS: Letterman was good. It was fun. We got in there and did two or three minutes' worth of music. It was a great experience for us. Now that we got that out of the way, I think we'll be more comfortable on the next couple of TV runs we have. It was a great thing to be able to do that and represent my city on national TV. The whole city watched, and they were rooting for us, and I felt the energy all the way up in New York from New Orleans and around the world.

SP: Wow, that's beautiful. So you got Jimmy Kimmel and "The Tonight Show" coming coming up. You'll be ready for them?

TS: Oh, I'm ready. Ready.

SP: I know you're real busy. I'm gonna let you go. It was a real pleasure. Hopefully I'll get a chance to talk with you next week.

TS: Thank you my friend.

Trombone Shorty and Orleans Avenue are playing Harlow's at 9 p.m. Friday. Opening for him are local favorites The Nibblers. Tickets are $20 and can be bought here. It's going to be a phenomenal show. You should go. And don't forget your dancing shoes.

Photo property of Kirk Edwards

In the Meantime. . .

2010-09-10T03:13:04Z

Think back to your freshman year of high school. Imagine you just went through an especially excruciating day of what was surely an excruciating year. You slept through first period, missed a quiz, got pantsed on the green (or a comparable humiliation), your crush pointed out that you had a "bat in the cave," and everybody laughed at you . . . you get the idea.

Murphy saw your day, and was so moved, that he wrote a law to commemorate it.

Fourteen-year-old you somehow made it through this day from Hell. You got home, got to your room, locked your door and laid on your bed, overwhelmed with a soul-crushing angst that only a 14-year-old can feel.

You put an album in your CD player (In my case. Depending on your age, it could also have been a tape deck, record player, eight-track, MP3 player, or a phonograph.), and played it from beginning to end, as loud as you could get away with.

By the time the record ended, you'd steeled yourself for whatever humiliations the next day might bring.

What album did you just listen to?

I listened to Helmet, "Meantime."

Helmet, an alternative rock metal band that originally formed in 1989 in New York City, (and was pivotal in my surviving freshman year) opened its fall tour last night with a packed show at Harlow's.

When I arrived just before 9 p.m., local metalcore band Will Haven was already on stage, and the crowd was already buzzing. As the musicians filled the room with driving noisecore, I grabbed a PBR and surveyed the crowd.

The audience was skewed toward males in their 30s, tattooed and concert Tee-d, but there were enough outliers to keep it interesting. There was some light to moderate headbanging going on in the crowd as Haven played its last two songs.

Haven finished to enthusiastic cheers and applause from its hometown fans, then began breaking down equipment.

Within 15 minutes of finishing their set, several members of the band were saddled up to the bar, taking shots of whiskey with some friends in the crowd.

This would become something of a theme for the evening.

Next up was Bison B.C. from Vancouver, Canada, and they were awesome. First of all, they looked like a metal band should look – like wooly mammoths personified. With tattoos.

And worthy of a herd of their namesake, their music is thunderous, bone-shaking and most of all, heavy. Really heavy.

These cats have got their own gravitational pull.

They worked the crowd into a minor frenzy, with one particularly agitated fanatic taking headbanging to new and literal heights by banging his head into a pole.

The men from the Great White North threw down the gauntlet and could have easily stolen the show if Helmet had been anything less than stellar.

The headliners, led by recently turned 50-year-old Page Hamilton, proved ready for challenge, however.

They opened with a blistering track off their new album, which was released on Tuesday. After the opening foray, Page began chopping it up with the crowd:

"Can we put whiskey back on the rider?" he asked. "I just love scotch."

Apparently he had been on a juice fast and was only drinking beer. "It sucks" he bemoaned.

It wasn't long before a large shot glass full of a dark amber liquid made it's way to the stage. He offered his thanks before throwing it down enthusiastically.

It was the first of several. So much for only drinking beer.

Page was in a convivial mood and bantered with the crowd on a variety of topics throughout the evening. He talked about football, saying, "the Niners were the first team to win five Super Bowls." About the six-time Super Bowl champion Pittsburgh Steelers he offered, "At least our quarterback isn't a rapist."

He got raucous applause when he offered his opinion on the basketball team in his adopted home of Los Angeles: "I think we can all agree on one thing: Fuck the Lakers!"

The set was a good mix of old and new, with the highlights being tracks off the aforementioned 1992 album "Meantime" and the recently rereleased 1994 album "Betty."

The crowd, including Midtown stalwart "Ground Chuck," went ballistic when it recognized the opening drum beats and assaultive chords from Helmet's biggest hit, "Unsung." I've always considered it one of the greatest metal songs of all time, and seeing it live just reinforced that opinion.

Helmet left the stage at 11:30, but was back five minutes later taking requests for the three-song encore. Page had some idea of what he wanted to play and nudged the crowd accordingly, but it was still a treat. Like a choose-your-own-adventure, except the adventure was an encore.

The last song of the evening, as chosen by we, the crowd, was "In the Meantime". Other than "Unsung", it's my favorite Helmet song, the title track off the album that I listened to countless times those many years ago. It was the perfect way to end the night, and the crowd reacted to it's crunching power chords and crashing drums with the first and only moshpit of the evening.

I surveyed the scene with a huge smile on my face. I was ready for whatever humiliations that the next day might bring.

Slow Ride. . . .Take it Easy. . . . .

2010-08-02T03:49:08Z

County and state fairs are a wonderful place to catch classic songs played by acts who may not have had the staying power of their greatest hits.

In fairs past I have caught Loverboy's "Working for the Weekend", America's "Horse with No Name", Dr. Hook's "On the Cover of The Rolling Stone", Hermans Hermits' "I'm into Something Good", Flock of Seagulls' "I Ran So Far Away" and, to a far lesser extent, Nelson's "After the Rain".

Friday, I added another one to the list.

I am no Foghathead, (Foghorn? HatHead? Foggy Bottom?) but when I saw British blues rockers Foghat on the fair lineup, I jumped at the chance to cover the show.

Why?

"Slow Ride," that's why.

"Slow Ride," Foghat's biggest hit, reached No. 20 on the U.S. charts when it was released in 1975. For what it's worth, last year VH1 ranked it the 45th best hard rock song of all time.

It has withstood the test of time, being featured in dozens of movies and television shows, most notably in the classic "Dazed and Confused." It plays when Mitch Kramer puts on his headphones when he gets home from the party at the Moon Tower, and while Pink and his "loser friends" head to Houston to get Aerosmith tickets.

Top priority of the summer.

My 30 odd viewings of the high school stoner classic probably had a lot to do with my overwhelming urge to attend the show.

I arrived early to get my credential and survey the scene. I took a seat toward the back and surveyed the crowd. There were certainly a few wild haired old rockers, but the concert attendees didn't seem all that different from the fair attendees as a whole.

Well, maybe a little older, and whiter, and drunker.

But other than that, pretty much the same.

After some fluffing by the River Cats emcee ("Who wants a T-shirt? I can't HEAR you!") who apparently holds the same position at the fair, the crowd was eager for the band to take the stage.

They took the stage to moderately raucous applause at 8 o'clock on the dot. They opened with "Road Fever," a fairly generic rocker that features the lyrics "Gonna roll 'til I'm old, gonna rock 'til I drop."

Mission accomplished.

After a little banter with the crowd ("Hello, SACRAMENTO!!!!!!!!!") they went into "Take Me to the River."

Unfortunately, they chose to play their own fair to middling version and not the Talking Heads classic.

Next up was the bluesy love song "My Babe." ("Nothing could be better than to see her in a sweater and a tight skirt that don't fit.")

Robert Hunter, eat your heart out.

They picked it up with "Driving Wheel,", a rollicking jam that really showcased lead guitarist Bryan Bassett. His slide solo was borderline epic and brought the crowd to its feet.

They continued to gain momentum with their next song "Stone Blue," the title track off their seventh album. Lead singer Charlie Huhn, formerly of Ted Nugent's band, introduced the song by asking if anybody remembered the '70s. Many in the audience did.

"Does anybody still think it's the '70s?" he asked, to possibly the most raucous applause of the night, up to that point. "This one's for you!" Apparently, quite a few people still think it's the '70s.

Coincidently, or maybe not, it was at this point in the show that I got my first big whiff of bammer weed.

I had already come to the conclusion that the lead singer was clearly not an original member of the band. Foghat formed in London in 1971. It took about 15 seconds to ascertain that the lead singer was not British.

After "Stone Blue," Huhn introduced the band. It turns out their original drummer, Roger Earle, was recovering from minor back surgery, and the skins were being played by Mitch Ryder's drummer.

He then introduced the bassist, Craig MacGregor. He was decidedly not English.

Lastly, he introduced the guitarist, Bryan Bassett, formerly of Wild Cherry and Molly Hatchett.

On this night, at least, the British blues rock band from England consisted of two guys from Detroit, and two guys from Pennsylvania.

America, f*%k yeah.

They played strong versions of "Fool for the City," the title track from the 1975 album that featured "Slow Ride," and "Terraplane Blues" a Robert Johnson track that they covered on the same album.

They really hit their stride on an extended blues jam, for which they brought out a harmonica player. They are really a blues band at heart, and they showed it during the bass-fueled, heavy, driving jam which evolved seamlessly into their 1972 hit "I Just Want to Make Love to You".

The crowd was on its feet for the closing song, which was originally recorded by blues great Muddy Waters but reached its height of popularity with Foghat's version.

The band didn't even feign leaving the stage after their "closing song." There has never been a more obvious encore in the history of live music. I had actually written down "Slow Ride Encore" in my notebook three hours before the show started.

Huhn milked it for all it was worth. "What song do you want to hear?" he inquired of the crowd.

My cry of "Dark Star!" was drowned out by a sea of drunkenly warbled "SLOW RIDE!!!!!!!!!!"'s.

Then they played it. As the signature opening chords rang out the crowd went bananas. It was everything I hoped it would be. Bow neh, bow neh, bow neh, bow ne now nahh.

In my mind, I was on my way to Houston to pick up Aerosmith tickets after an epic evening at the Moon Tower.

Top priority of the summer.

Classic Rock Lives! . . . in bed by 11.

2010-06-01T02:48:42Z

Heart and Sammy Hagar. Between them they have sold nearly 100 million albums, not one of which was sold to me.

I knew Heart was from Seattle, and was famous for such hits as "Barracuda," and "that one song" and "you know that other song, the one, with the singer."

Hagar, "The Red Rocker," I knew from Van Halen, of course, but I have always been more of a Metallica guy. I can honestly say that I liked the Hagar incarnation of VH more than the David Lee Roth incarnation, but that isn't really saying much.

Sammy seems like he'd be a lot of fun to hang out with. Diamond Dave seems like he'd do all your drugs then leave with your girlfriend.

Heart and Sammy "co-headlined" a benefit show at Raley Field on Sunday night, and I decided to check out these two rock icons firsthand, and to see who's been buying all these albums.

I got to the show around 7 p.m. and surveyed the scene. And what a scene it was. I'd say the demographic was 85 percent 40 to 60 years old, all dressed as they would have been 25 years ago. Maybe the highlight was being on hand to witness a Sammy Hagar look-alike meeting a Brett Michaels look-alike. It was a powerful moment. Like the meeting of two heads of state. Except very, very different.

The rest were mostly the children of the 85 percent, and, to their credit, none of them seemed at all embarrassed by their parents outfits.

The vibe was overwhelmingly positive. The entire show I only saw one negative interaction: A woman cut in front of about 40 people in line for cocktails. When a man in front of me confronted her about it, she said that for 20 dollars a drink, he could cut in line too. He offered a guess at what she might have done to procure that 20 dollars. For her sake, I hope he was wrong.

Other than that, people could not have been friendlier or more upbeat. While the opening act played, I struck up a conversation with a woman and her college-age son. I asked Tammy and Wes if they had seen Hagar or Heart before. Turns out they had seen Sammy a half-dozen times, including twice in Cabo.

"You just happened to catch him in Cabo twice?" I asked.

"Nope," Tammy said. "We went to Cabo twice specifically to see him."

To say that The Red Rocker has devoted fans would be an understatement. I met another gentlemen named Jim who estimated he had seen Sammy 35 times, with and without Van Halen. He was there with his 12-year-old son. It was his first concert.

"This is a day he'll never forget," I offered, thinking back on my first concert. I saw the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Pearl Jam and Nirvana at the Cow Palace in 1992. I went with my mom and stepdad. Never were my parents cooler than they were that night.

Heart took the stage to raucous applause at 8:10 p.m. They received immediate bonus points from me when Ann Wilson came out playing a mean flute. Heavy metal flute is a powerful instrument when in capable hands. Ann proved more than up for the challenge. Ian Anderson would be proud.

The song was also noteworthy for being the only one in Heart's 70-minute set that I didn't immediately recognize, other than two songs from their upcoming album, "Red Velvet Car."

I could only name one song from the Seattle rockers going into the show, but it turns out I could sing along with just about every song they played.

They followed the flute song with "Heartless," (hey, I know this song!) "Never," (oh yeah, they play this) and "Straight on For You" (how did I forget this one?) before bringing the house down with Ann's sister Nancy on lead vocals for "These Dreams."

The beautiful love song was played in honor of Robert and Juanice. Or possibly Robert and Lanice. For Robert and his lovely date.

They followed that with the two songs from their new album. Otherwise known as "the bathroom/beer-run break." I hung around for both songs and thought they were quite good. The album drops Aug. 31.

Then they started playing their big hits. "Magic Man" into "Crazy on You" into "Barracuda" to finish off the set. Hit after hit, the crowd loving every second of it. They sounded great. The band was tight. Nancy displayed the chops that have made her one of hard rock's most formidable guitarists, and Ann belted out song after song, sounding just as she had in the band's mid-'80s heyday.

When they exited the stage, I mentioned to a fellow audience member that as co-headliner, Heart would probably come out for an encore.

"But they already played "Barracuda." What would they encore with? I think they're done."

Though he made a good point, I was soon proven right when Heart retook the stage to thunderous applause. And to answer his question, they opened with a Led Zeppelin cover, "What Is and What Never Should Be," which soon turned into "What About Love," finishing it off with another familiar hit.

The lights came on and the crowd prepared themselves for the Rooster's arrival (read: ordered drinks, two at a time).

At 9:45 p.m. the lights went down and the big screens on either side of the stage awoke. A video montage began playing, party scenes in both Mexico and the United States, with a variety of stars welcoming us to Cabo Wabo. ("This is Toby Keith... welcome to Cabo Wabo!" "This is Kenny Chesney... welcome to Cabo Wabo!" "This is Emeril Lagasse... welcome to Cabo Wabo! " Wait... what?)

The former Van Halen frontman took the stage, and the crowd went bananas. He opened with "There's Only One Way to Rock" and then brought his fans to a fever pitch with "I Can't Drive 55" and "Why Can't This Be Love?"

After the opening stanza he bantered with the crowd and with a host of waitresses who were on stage with him. "Waitress, I need a drink! I drove here, but I got someone else driving me home!" Throughout his set he had waitresses bringing him cocktails, many of which he shared with folks in the crowd.

He is a quintessential frontman, and I can now see how he has developed such an adoring fan base. His charm resonates to the back of the house, and that's no mean feat when you're playing a packed baseball stadium.

After a song I didn't recognize, he went into my favorite portion of his set. Meaning, he played songs that I both knew and liked. Following Heart's lead, he covered some Zeppelin, playing "Whole Lotta Love" into "Kashmir" back into "Whole Lotta Love." He then played probably his biggest Van Halen hit, "Right Now," which I remember as the music video that made me read. If I wanted to read, I wouldn't be watching music videos, now would I?

After politely requesting a refill ("Waitress, can I have another cocktail please? Make it a double!"), he continued with a bunch of songs that sounded vaguely familiar. "Best of Both Worlds," "Mas Tequila," "Heavy Metal" and a few others that I'm not sure of. He commanded the stage with a youthful exuberance that belies his age. The cat is 62 years old, parties, well, like a rock star, but he looks and acts on stage like he's in his 30s.

Someone should do a study on the age reversing properties of Cabo Wabo tequila. All I'm saying is that if one were going to go looking for the fountain of youth, they might want to start in Guadalajara.

He closed his set with Van Halen's ode to sexual frustration, "Finish What You Started," and thanked the crowd for a great night. There was an 11 o'clock curfew, and he followed it to the letter. It was the only time he acted his age all night.

Jazz Appreciation, 2060

2010-05-14T02:33:42Z

When I was at school at the University of Oregon, I took a lot of classes. There were history classes, journalism classes, english classes, a lot of political science classes, a few science classes, even an art history class (Chicks, man!). To be honest, 10+ years removed from the experience, most of them have bled together in my memory.

A few stand out, however. An astronomy course where in a friend of mine cheated off me on the final and got a better grade. A sociology course where the professor offered extra credit to students who skipped class to join the WTO riots inSeattle. A military science course that I took along with a future NFL 1,000-yard rusher and a future NBA slam dunk champion. We learned to rappel…down the bleachers.

But possibly my single most memorable class at the U of O was an awesome jazz appreciation course I took my sophomore year. We learned about and listened to jazz greats like Thelonious Monk, Charlie Parker, John Coltrane, Count Basie and many others.

I probably listened to Miles Davis' “Kind of Blue" 50 times that semester, from start to finish. There is no question that I'm a better man for having done so.

Never has a college course been more aptly named. That semester, I developed a great appreciation for "the only true American art form."

Now, I realize that not everybody has the time to take a semester-long jazz appreciation course, and besides, its 470 miles to the University of Oregon. But I have some good news: The same effect can be achieved with a library card and a ticket to a Charlie Hunter show.

Charlie Hunter is a jazz guitarist extraordinaire, a truly one-of-a-kind performer, and he brought his unique seven-string stylings to Harlow's Wednesday night.

But first, the audience was given a crash course in classical music appreciation. To open the show, we were treated to a 30-minute set from onetime child prodigy and current violin virtuoso Rachel Barton Pine. The soloist, in town for a show with the Sacramento Philharmonic Orchestra this Saturday, was an epiphany.

She came out playing a 1742 "ex-Soldat" Guarnari, which she prefers to the Stradivarious, although she said it's simply a matter of taste. She compared the two different violins to red and white wine, although I don't recall which was which. I do remember that her violin had once been the property of Marie Soldat, a female virtuoso who had been discovered by Johannes Brahms at the age of 15 in 1878.

The legendary German composer even picked out the young Soldat's violin for her, and by extension, Barton Pine's for her. How cool is that?

She played a variety of songs, including one she described as "Chamber Blues," where the violin mimicked the sound of a blues harmonica, before finishing with a gypsy violin piece.

I was standing at the far end of the stage, next to the backstage door. At one point during her performance, Charlie himself popped out to take some of her in. "She's spectacular," I offered.

He gave me a wry smile and responded, "Yeah, I know."

I suppose he would. . . .

She stepped off the stage to surprisingly raucous applause just after 9:30. Ten minutes later, she was back, this time at a table to the side – a fan like the rest of us.

At 9:45, Charlie Hunter took the stage, joined by Eric Kalb on drums and Ron Miles on trumpet. Kalb has played with such R&B luminaries as Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings, The Greyboy All Stars and John Scofield. The Jazz Times calls Ron Miles "one of the finest trumpeters in jazz today." And Charlie Hunter is, well, Charlie Hunter.

Charlie has been described as a "guitar wunderkind," and his playing is truly mind-boggling. He plays a custom made seven-string guitar, which has three bass strings and four guitar strings. He is his own bass player, and it's truly a sight to behold.

Listening with your eyes closed, or from another room, you'd bet anything that you were listening to a four-piece. Though the bass line and guitar sounds meld perfectly together, they are also totally free of one another, unencumbered in any way. Even upon re-entering the room, or opening your eyes, it’s still hard to believe that all that sound is coming from just the one instrument.

But Hunter is not some gimmicky virtuoso, he is one of the finest improvisational musicians of our time, and Kalb and Miles are more than worthy collaborators. The three men played for more than 90 minutes, alternating between jazzy, funky and bluesy, but remaining masterful throughout.

The only problem I had with the show, as is often the case when I attend shows where the vast majority of the audience is seated, was an inability to keep my dancing, well, er, restrained. My musical enjoyment center is connected directly to my "get up and boogie" bone. I am forever teetering on the brink of becoming "that guy," jitterbugging furiously while the rest of those in the crowd remain seated, nodding their heads or tapping their toes.

I can sit down for a moment, but what starts as a toe tap can rapidly degenerate into "the sprinkler," or, in some cases, even "the worm."

I had to find myself a spot off to the side of the stage where I could dance to my heart’s content without upsetting the more upright members of the crowd. A few kindred spirits joined me during some of the more up-tempo jams.

Finally, during the feverish encore, one brave soul stood up directly in front of the stage and began cutting the rug. Now, I have seen this move spark a feud between the seated and the dancing that would make the Hatfields and McCoys blush. But there was no such issue on this fine evening, and soon there were a couple dozen dancers near the front of the stage, peaceably intermingling with those who remained seated. Dogs and cats, living together. A wonderful end to a wonderful show.

I will never have the opportunity to see Thelonious Monk, Charlie Parker, Miles Davis or John Coltrane perform live. But I have seen Charlie Hunter, and so should you. Sure, it's not the same as seeing one of the greats who I learned about in jazz appreciation class so many falls ago. But 50 years from now, when they're teaching jazz appreciation at the University ofOregon, Outer Space Extension, you can bet they'll spend some time discussing Charlie Hunter. That's good enough for me.

Charlie and the boys are playing the Freight&Salvage in Berkeley at 8 p.m. tonight. If you leave right now, you might make it.

They are also playing Friday at the El Rey Theater in Chico.

Rachel Barton Pine is playing with the Sacramento Philharmonic on Saturday.

If you wanna catch a show, hit me up at lindol@gmail.com

BLVD, Face Melters Incorporated.

2010-05-08T06:24:44Z

Last summer, I went on a road trip of epic proportions. I traveled 22,000 miles over the course of 139 days, hitting 36 states along the way. During my trip, I went to a variety of music festivals, including some of the monsters, such as All Points West, Lollapalooza, Gathering of the Vibes and Phish 8.

My favorite of them all, though, was probably a smaller one called Camp Bisco, in Mariaville, N.Y. Camp Bisco is put on by The Disco Biscuits, and though I really enjoyed the headliners, what set the festival apart was the smaller acts playing throughout the day and late into the night.

That weekend was my first exposure to many acts that I now love: Dr. Dog, Brother's Past, K'naan, Chromeo, Bonobo, Pnuma Trio, Pretty Lights.

One of my favorite "discoveries" at Camp Bisco, BLVD, played at Harlows on Wednesday night.

BLVD's music is tough to categorize. Their Myspace page describes the music as electro/electronica/breakbeat. I've heard the group alternately described as "urban," "livetronica," "electronic rockers" and "electro dance rock." If I had to put a label on it, I'd probably just go with "freaking awesome" and call it a day.

I arrived at Harlow's at 9 p.m. Wednesday, and immediately was struck by the crowd, which appeared to be mostly tatted-up, Affliction-wearing cage fighters and scantily clad ring-card girls. This wasn't what I'd imagined BLVD's fan base would look like, but, then again, you never know. Maybe this was one of those unlikely fan phenomena, like Morrissey's popularity with teenage Latinos. As I got settled, however, I realized that a good portion of the crowd were Cinco de Mayo revelers, who had, unbeknownst to them, stumbled into the best show in town.

I sat down at a table close to the stage and watched as the chairs around me began to fill up with people who were here specifically for the show. By the time that opening act Vokab Kompany took the stage, the tables were full and the crowd was ready.

Vokab Kompany is another act that refuses to be pigeonholed. Two MCs might lead you to believe that it's hip hop, but that doesn't begin to tell the story. The seven-piece band from San Diego played for more than an hour, a set that was at times funky, jazzy, heavy, bouncy, even bluegrassy. At one point, it eased comfortably in and out of Stevie Wonder's "Superstition." A moment later, during a long electric fiddle solo, a young lady joined the fiddler on the floor and did her best "Lord of the Dance." And it all made sense. Through it all, the crowd was treated to microphonic gymnastics of the dueling MCs, Rob Hurt and Burkey. The group is legit; see them.

Vokab Kompany set 'em up, BLVD knocked 'em down.

BLVD came out a bit before 11 and wasted no time getting the crowd, properly fluffed by the openers, into a tizzy. The driving beats and pulsing bass laid down by Dylan Mcintosh and Tripp Bains demand your respect. Curtis Sloane's guitar stylings make ... look, the point is they'll melt your face off. And put a party in your pants.

In the past, BLVD also played with an MC, but they recently parted ways amicably. While not having a singer may make its music a bit less accessible, it had very little effect on the quality of the band's performance.

All of the musicians in BLVD are very talented, but they have become festival staples because of their ability to work a crowd into a frenzy. Their music builds into a crescendo until you think they can't go any longer, at which point they just keep right on going. For an hour and a half at Harlows, to the delight of their fans and a lucky few who happened to be in the right place at the right time, BLVD just kept building those crescendos, taking the crowd to the brink and beyond, into the throes of musical ecstasy. It happened over and over, until those of us who spent the whole set dancing were ready to collapse. It was 1 a.m. I exchanged sweaty high fives with some of my fellow dance-floor warriors, and basked briefly in the afterglow of the evening's festivities.

It had been a fantastic evening with two great groups that want you to get up off your butt and tear the dance floor a new one. Really, the only thing missing from Wednesday night's show was you. You like to dance, don't you? Sure you do. Next time you see Vokab or BLVD is coming to town, throw on your favorite pair of dance pants -- mine happen to be silver -- and get to that show. You can thank me later.

If you know what's good for you, you'll head up to The High Sierra Music Festival for the Fourth of July weekend. BLVD is playing the 1:30 to 4:00 AM Thursday set, otherwise known as the gamechanger. Do it, it'll blow your mind.

Matisyahu, Grandpa. Grandpa, Matisyahu.

2010-05-06T03:20:10Z

The world’s most popular reggae singer came to Sacramento Sunday and played a show in front of 4,000 ecstatic fans.

This, in and of itself, doesn't seem like it would be all that noteworthy. Big stars play shows in Sacramento, if not all the time, at least semi-frequently. I mean, John Mayer is coming to the Sleep Train Amphitheater in August, right? And Carrie Underwood is coming to Arco in a couple of weeks.

But Matisyahu, the Jewish reggae artist whose album, "Bright Side of Life," has been at the top of Billboard’s reggae charts for six weeks, didn't play at Arco for $45 a seat, or Raley Field for 35 bucks a pop, or even Harlow's for 18 a ducat. He played for free, on the Capitol steps, at the Jewish Heritage Festival.

His opening acts? An eco-friendly fashion show, the L.A. Israeli Youth Dance Team and a raffle drawing. To be fair, a juggler, a face painter and Kings’ Mascot Slamson were also running around, but they spent most of their time in the Kids Zone, so I don't really count them as openers.

When I first heard that Matisyahu would be playing a free show on the Capitol steps, I flat-out did not believe it. "You're lying," I commented on a friend’s Facebook post. The man is an international superstar. He's gonna play a free show at a small heritage festival? Yeah, right. Weird Al Yankovic, maybe, but Matisyahu? Not a chance.

I arrived around 1:15 in the afternoon and got confirmation that the Hasidic beatboxer was, in fact, coming, and the performance would start at 3:15.

My next thought was that someone in Sacramento must have compromising photos of the reggae star. Now, this theory is still entirely plausible, but I no longer consider it likely.

I wandered around the west steps of the Capitol, taking in what was an otherwise average heritage festival:

-Informational booths for places like Hillel, Chabad, Knesset Israel Torah Center, European Wax Center and, of course, The Sacramento Press.

-Food carts, heavy on the falafel.

-A street market featuring vendors selling arts, crafts, clothing and specialty foods, including 2 artisan honey vendors.

-A rock climbing wall, bungee basketball, a blow-up slide and other carnival-type attractions in the kid zone.

When I got there, the crowd was about what you'd expect at a Jewish heritage festival. There were a lot of families, a fair amount of seniors and a gaggle of kids. Nothing out of the ordinary. Everybody was in a celebratory mood, smiling and happy. I was often asked enthusiastically about my shirt, which spelled out "Temple Alameda" in Hebrew. No one seemed the least bit disappointed when I explained sheepishly that I was, in fact, a goy, and wore it for solidarity. Actually, I ended up being invited to more than one upcoming Shabbat dinner.

The only inkling of the concert to come was a smattering of hippy-looking kids and a few dreadlocked truststafarians floating around. But as 3 o'clock approached, the demographic began to shift...dramatically.

Kids on skateboards and BMX bikes started streaming in around 2:30 p.m. Next came the beer-soaked college kids and 20-somethings. The main contingent of the Rastas and 4:20 crowd rolled in in a haze of smoke just before Matisyahu was set to hit the stage

"If my boobs had mouths they'd be so drunk right now!" said a particularly buxom young lady who had apparently been spilling most of her drinks down her shirt.

By 3:15, the west steps of the Capitol were overflowing with one of the strangest, most incredible hodgepodge of people you could ever hope to see. From babies in Pampers to octogenarians in Depends, this truly was an all-ages show. Hasidic Jewish rabbis intermingled with high school punk kids and 30-something hipsters, all of whom wore big smiles on their faces.

It was a beautiful day. Nobody seemed to mind much that the star didn't arrive until close to 3:45. When he did show up, his only accompaniment was a buddy on an acoustic guitar. He had a mellow, conversational tone that he maintained throughout the performance. At one point, his cell phone rang. "Should I answer it?" he asked the audience. He did, on speaker.

"Even if I weren't in front of 4,000 people, I couldn't understand you," he said to the guy on the other end of the line. "This guy’s from Long Island. Even New Yorkers don't like Long Island...except Jones Beach," he joked before hanging up and getting back to the music.

His performance was great – a full hour-and-45-minute set without breaks (not counting several interludes to banter with the crowd and one giant hugging session).

He played a bunch of his hits, a cover or two, and some new stuff. He discussed his newly adopted veganism, his guitarist’s upcoming foray into "master cleanse," lamented that he never got to play football ("I had to go to Hebrew school"), recommended a book (“Eating Animals,” by Jonathon Safron Foer) and queried us on our local rivers. He named both the American and the Sacramento, and he even went for a swim in the former!

The show was set to end at 4:30 p.m., but he stayed on a full hour past the scheduled end time. It would have been totally understandable had he decided to blow through a 30-minute set of a few of his hits and ditched town. I half expected it.

But he did nothing of the sort. He put on a fantastic show and really endeared himself to the crowd with his playful engagement. He seemed genuinely happy to be here, playing a free show at a heritage festival. There aren't many artists of his ilk who'd do the same, let alone be happy about it. But Matisyahu isn't just any artist.

Toda, Matisyahu.

As always, the high quality, professional looking shots are the work of my good friend Ahsan Awan. The others are yours truly throwing darts with a point and click.

If you have any thoughts, questions, or angry diatribes you'd like to direct at me, lindol@gmail.com should do the trick.