Jam of the day, late-night TV, music discovery, SXSW, and left-handed guitarists: Gary Clark, Jr. / "Bright Lights"

This song is a straight jam, no ifs ands or buts or becauses or what-have-yous about it. I don't know much about Gary Clark, Jr., though. I stumbled on this tune via a message board a number of months ago, and I remember really digging it when I heard it (and it was this specific video, too, not a studio recording). I didn't investigate the guy further, though, for whatever reason, thinking him too "mainstream" or something silly like that, then totally forgot about it until earlier tonight.

I was watching late night TV because the featured bands actually piqued my interest: Sharon Van Etten (*swoon*) was on Conan playing "Leonard", and then The Shins were on Letterman playing "Simple Song". I flipped over to Fallon to catch Jon Hamm (I find him hilarious whenever he's on 30 Rock and SNL) and left the TV on in the background as I came back to my laptop to do some more writing work. Eventually, Carson Daly's show came on and he said that this episode would be devoted to artists they saw and loved at SXSW.

This brought to mind a couple of things. First, it made me think about how people discover music these days, who we view as "go-to sources" for music discovery, who we trust as musical litmus tests. It's strange to think of times when, I dunno, Rolling Stone might be your one and only print publication by which to judge new releases. Or shit, the radio, even! What was music discovery like before the internet?! Personally, I didn't discover any music outside of classic rock radio that my dad played in the car up through high school, so I can only imagine what kind of dark ages the 80s and 70s and … well, fuck, there was some great music coming out back then, right? And people were finding out about it, I presume. Is the internet actually a good thing? My vast digital music collection says, "Hell yeah motherfucker!", but my exploding inbox of "Listen to my music pleeez!" says, "Hell no, motherfucker!". Only time will tell, I suppose.

Second, this reminded me of a Tweet from some friends who were down in Austin at SXSW last week. Apparently, Carson Daly was onstage playing drums with Thee Oh Sees?!?!?!? I love that band and their garage rock awesomeness, and it's hard to imagine Mr. TRL drumming along to such tune-age at all, let alone live with these dudes. Still, it makes me wish I had been there to see it, because I'm sure it was a spectacle, an experience, something interesting to witness. I've never been to any kind of music festival, so that's something on my agenda for the future.

What else was I talking about? Oh, you'll notice that the second guitarist in this video (the first guy you see in the first frame) is a left-handed guitarist. As a staunch ambidexterian (if you ask, I can list all of the things I do lefty and all of the things I do righty; there are plenty of each), I find it particularly interesting to see people doing something lefty that is vastly more commonly done righty. Guitar-playing, golfing, hand-writing, masturbating … just kidding. No really, I'm kidding, don't show me. Jimi Hendrix and Paul McCartney stand out as striking left-handed guitarist examples. Do you have any others? Famous or otherwise?

Where were we … back to this Gary Clark, Jr. tune, right! This was recorded at Eric Clapton's Crossroads Guitar Festival, and it has some great footage of Clark singing and guitaring, plus his backing band of guitarist, bassist, drummer, and brass. His voice is outstanding. I think that's what really gets me, that he's belting out these lines while strumming some sweet licks and solos. Not to mention how cool those shades are …

"You're gonna know my name by the end of the night"



Gary Clark Jr. on the web: Website Facebook Twitter YouTube

Jam of the day, guitar atmospherics, and an upcoming show you gotta see: Eureka Birds / "Goodbye Space And Time"

I'm gearing myself up for an awesome show this weekend. We at Draw Us Lines are going to "curate" (that sounds hoity-toity) a series of shows at venues around Pittsburgh. This allows us to shine the spotlight on some great bands and people, and bring folks out to see artists they might not otherwise know about or want to see. By rotating around at different venues, we should be able to focus on different genres, too—loud rock, acoustic folk, dancey pop, etc.—and we're looking forward to working with lots of great Pittsburgh (and national) indie bands in the future.

Our first show is happening this Saturday night, February 25th, at the Brillobox in Lawrenceville. Bluebird Midwest, Horse or Cycle, and Eureka Birds are playing, and they are all excellent. You should read my full preview over at Draw Us Lines to get the full scoop on the show, but suffice it to say: you really gotta go.

In preparation, I've been jamming a lot of tunes by these bands, of course. A lot of Eureka Birds songs have been stuck in my head ("That Mountain Is A Volcano", "Oh! My Dear", "Cactus Man", …) but there's one I'm particularly looking forward to seeing live, after finding a YouTube vid of it: "Goodbye Space And Time"

Eureka Birds / "Good Bye Space And Time" / Eureka Birds [2008] / Live @ North Star Bar, Philly

Isn't that killer? The lyrics are kinda mellow and down-trodden, but engaging and you can read some uplifting qualities into it all, if you try. The thing that gets me, though, is the slow-burn, rise and rise and rise and rise aspect of it, culminating in an absolute shred of a guitar solo over the last minute or so. I was trying to explain this appeal to my friend as we watched the video together: yes, the solo is not a crazy riff or melody and might not take too much technical prowess, really, but there's something about how it fits into the song and carries my mind and emotions along that has me hanging on the edge of my seat and leaning in closer and closer until it's over. Part of that has to do with the fact that I can see the video timer and realize, "Wow, there's only 20 seconds left, where the hell could this be going? He's still wailing on that axe like a madman!" Maybe that's it. I'll tell you this, though: I'll be watching googly-eyed from the side of the stage when they rock out like this on Saturday night, and you owe it to yourself to be there with me. Rock on.

Eureka Birds on the web: Website / Facebook / Twitter / Bandcamp

The Song Remains the Same-ish: The Black Keys vs. Metric

[This is a "series" that lets me point out when two songs sound really similar or something about one song reminds me strongly of another one, or something like that. Its frequency obviously depends on me finding these similarities, so who knows when it will happen again.]

Artist:	The Black Keys	/	Metric
Song:	"Nova Baby"	/	"Gimme Sympathy"
Album:	El Camino	/	Fantasies
Label:	Nonesuch	/	Last Gang
Released:	12.06.2011	/	04.07.2009

This connection between melodies really jumped out at me on first listen, which made it all the more compelling. Sometimes these relationships worm their way into my ears over time, but this one was immediate. On subsequent listens, I can see how I am mistaken because, of course, these aren't the same song, nor do I think that The Black Keys are scamming Metric riffs for their own benefit. However, I stand by the fact that the choruses have very similar melodies. Metric's line "Gimme sympathy" strongly matches The Black Keys' line "All your enemies" at the beginning of their respective choruses. Then, while Metric's tune goes down/up/down/up in melodic pitch, The Black Keys just go up and up, but somehow match pitch again around the 5th lyrical line. It's interesting to play those two choruses back to back and compare. In any event, enjoy the two songs! Fantasies has seen recurrent plays on my iPod since it's been releases, and El Camino is fun, although not my fave Black Keys record. (The Big Come Up EP, anyone?)

Metric / "Gimme Sympathy" / Fantasies / [Last Gang, 2009] / dir. Frank Borin

GIMME SYMPATHY
AFTER ALL OF THIS IS GONE
WHO WOULD YOU RATHER BE
THE BEATLES OR THE ROLLING STONES
OH SERIOUSLY, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE MISTAKES, YOU'RE YOUNG
COME ON BABY PLAY ME SOMETHING LIKE HERE COMES THE SUN

The Black Keys / "Nova Baby" / El Camino / [Nonesuch, 2011]

Concert Review: Allison Weiss + Mitten + Donora @ Thunderbird Café / 01.14.2012

Catching up on weeks-old shows. Mitten put out a catchy and lovely EP last year called See You Bye. I really liked it and was kinda surprised by how much I did, and wrote that in this review here for DUL. I've managed to see Allison Weiss four or five times here in town over the last couple of years, and I saw that they were touring together this winter and stopping here at the Thunderbird, hooray! And they're playing with Donora, even better!

I emailed the ladies of Mitten to set up an interview a couple of days before the show, and had plans to meet up with them and AW for some pizza before the gig, but unfortunately they got delayed on the road. We ended up just meeting at the venue after soundcheck and right before they played. (That's their soundcheck in the photo on the left, with AW internetting and Hugh snapping photos.) I had a quick conversation with Joanna and Maia about their current tour and their plans for future recording. What struck me was how much god damn fun they were having. In the most pleasant way possible, I could hardly get a word in! They cracked jokes left and right, smiled constantly, jabbed at each other and told tour anecdotes, and were genuinely outgoing and bubbly the whole time. The best kind of interview, really, but darn hard to transcribe (especially with the background noise by the pool table there) so I'm working on that and it'll hopefully be done next week.

My friends and I sat at the table at the front of the balcony, which is an optimal viewpoint at the Thunderbird, I gotta say, but it kinda sucks for sound if there are lots of people at the bar up there. If people are respectful and pay attention, it is outstanding for sound, right up in the middle of the sonic spaces, but if everyone is really chatty, like this night … well, it can be really frustrating. I had trouble hearing banter, and some of the quieter moments of Mitten's music—which are some of the best parts of their music, really!—got a little blurred and almost drowned out. Fuckin' ay. Overall, they played great and seemed to have a good time, regardless, and there were a couple of folks up front dancing and singing along, so I'm glad for that. It's just too bad that our location wasn't the best and there was a big group of us so moving up to the front of the stage wasn't gonna work.

This trend kinda continued into Allison Weiss' set. She blasted through a bunch of new songs, and the usual old faves—"I Was An Island", "Fingers Crossed", "You + Me + Alcohol"—and her downtempo cover of Robyn's "Call Your Girlfriend", which is gorgeous. Having just seen her play in December at Point Park, there wasn't much new to talk about. She played well, was her usually friendly self on stage, and the crowd down at the stage level was really into it. Mitten came back onstage to play a song or two at the end, too; that was fun.

Donora came in and rocked the house, as usually. It became clear as the night went on that most people were there to see Donora and were kinda waiting through the first two sets to see them. That irked me a little. As much as I love local bands and am glad to see when they become increasingly popular, I don't like seeing this dynamic at shows where it's like you can completely forget about the fact that people are standing on stage playing songs for your entertainment and you're just talking to your friends like they don't exist. It's fine to not like bands and not want to pay attention, but just do it somewhere else. Go downstairs to the bar. Go outside. Play a game of tic tac toe. Whatever it is. It's just really annoying to everyone else trying to watch and listen when they have to fight through your idle chit-chat.

Kiva Han Countdown: 11, 10, 9, 8 days!

We're fast approaching the last week of Kiva Han! :-(

I've been stopping by mostly early evenings lately, grabbing a cappuccino and maybe a pastry and sitting and reading library books for an hour or two, enjoying the house music they decide to play here (a few days ago it was Blink 182 followed immediately by Daydream Nation, that was interesting) and people watching.

A few days ago, I walked in and found a friend of mine already sitting at a table with a half-eaten bowl of mac & cheese. It turns out she had never (!?) had mac & cheese before in her life, and got it here on my recommendation, only to discover she does not, in fact, like mac & cheese. For shame! Oh well, her loss.

I also finally crossed off another item from my KH bucket list this morning. I showed up right around 8:05 and was the 2nd customer of the day. I would have like to have been here right when the doors were unlocked and been the first coffee consumer of the day, but I'll take what I can get. I already had to do this on a weekend day so that it was 8:00 instead of 6:30 am, so, whatever. I've been parked here for several hours now, running on multiple cappuccinos and a yummy pumpkin muffin, banging out random writing projects, and people-watching, as usual. It's a different crowd in the morning. Folks pop in and out for a cup for the road. A family with two teenage children and a baby in one of those hand-held baskets (with scant protection from this extremely wintry cold, I might add!) came in and all got drinks to go. Other couples have come in to sit for a bit and then take off. For a while, there were no more then four or five people in the whole place, but now, close to noon, everything feels pretty bustly, a constant flow of people in and out, most tables occupied in some fashion. It's interesting to watch the dynamic play out over the course of the day. I wonder if the employees get caught up in it, feeling bored when the business is slow and getting excited when there's a crowd. Or maybe it's the other way around, and the line of customers just makes them tired. Who knows. I just know that I would wayyyyy over-caffeinate myself if I ever worked at a coffee place. I'd just be sipping espresso constantly.

Concert Review: The Lemonheads + Meredith Sheldon @ Stage AE / 01.20.2012

Not being a hardcore Lemonheads fan and seemingly not having been exactly the right age in the early 90s, I have some mixed feelings about this show. Did I have a good time there? Yeah, pretty much; for hanging out by myself at the Stage AE club stage on a Monday night in January, it was swell. Was I wowed by the music or the performance? Not really, but I didn't quite expect it to be, so it's fine. If I'd had some expectations or heavy knowledge of Evan Dando and his personality and the band's songs, I might have had some more nuanced thoughts about the show, but overall, I'm feeling like the big proclamation is: "It was a concert. It was ok."

I caught a bus downtown then walked across the river in a slight drizzle, and missed the first opening act, who was apparently just the Lemonheads' bassist. The second opener, Meredith Sheldon, was actually really good, and I'm glad I made it there just before her set started. Her look was kind of that "focused slacker" style—kinda baggy gray t-shirt, hair a little stringy and framing her face, tight jeans, huge heels, eyes closed or staring at the floor the whole time—and it suited her songs well. Her voice was gorgeous, her guitar playing was solid and expressive, and alternately with/without a backing band of bass and drums, she could move around from slow and somber songs to more upbeat rockers. Her last song was a stellar cover of a Big Star song. I was impressed and was glad I was up close to hear them well, because it didn't seem like anyone except for the first few rows of standing people were even paying attention. It's a shame about Meredith.



There was a long wait between sets, despite no instrument setup of any kind. Evan Dando came out around 9:50 and played a few songs solo. Midway through the first one, he stopped to ask to lower the guitar in his monitor. The crowd was "woo"-ing passionately, like fanboys, and Evan kept his head down. Feeling shy? Not noticing? Who knows? After three or four acoustic numbers, he plugged in and the bassist and drummer came out to play. There was this older married couple standing next to me and they were just shredding guitars in the air and totally loving it. That was kinda cool. Everyone in the front row was singing along. That is not as cool. They started in on playing It's A Shame About Ray in order, and the crowd really loved that. I caught Evan staring up at the ceiling during the title track, like he has to gaze upward to hit the highest notes ("it's a SHAME about Ray…"), and then when he looked back down he had a little grin on his face, like it's his little secret trick no one knows about or sees. My phone notes remind me that his "blonde hair hangs straight, eyes downcast, looks coyly happy".

Every once in a while, he slipped up some lyrics or missed a vocal cue, and I caught him checking for the bassist to cue him in sometimes. I found that kind of endearing, actually, like it's amateurish but he knows it and doesn't care about doing what he has to do to keep the set moving. He never looked angry or disappoined in himself, and even chuckled a little bit. Finally, he started some banter like 40 minutes into their set. It was at this point that I was actually enjoying myself, taking in these unfamiliar tunes and enjoying the show, in the sense of the performance. However, reading this review in the Post-Gazette makes me think that being a nonfan colored my experience differently. Scott Mervis laments about Dando's initial performance and relates it to his troubled history with drugs (meanwhile completely mislabeling the opener; The Shining Twins did not play this show, and he didn't realize that even though he was apparently there for her set?). He noted this turning point where Dando started talking with the crowd, even though it was kinda mumbly. I wouldn't call it a "transformation" in his performance, but it was a noticeable moment.

The band left the stage and Dando played solo for a little while, starting and stopping a song he forgot he had already played, asking the audience outright for suggestions of "rare songs" of theirs to play (like he couldn't remember them or something), talking awkwardly about pills, and eventually stopping and walking off to genuine but half-hearted applause. The audience pretty much assumed an encore, it felt like, and they did get one. The band came back out to play and I just took off. I had been feeling bored for a while. It was just too long of a night for a band I don't know. At least in the beginning I was enjoying their songs for the performance aspect, the interesting character study of Mr. Dando—in that sense, I enjoyed the show—but eventually, it was just all too much of the same sounds—in that sense, it was a lackluster concert. Perhaps, if I was a true fan, like Mr. Mervis, my feelings would have been a mirror image of that, but as it was, I was happy to be walking out at 11:15 and strolling along the river by PNC Park, soaking in the brisk night air, leaving the amps behind and letting my ears enjoy the sounds of flowing water and distant cars, and heading in the direction of home.

The Lemonheads on the web: Website / Facebook / Twitter

Meredith Sheldon on the web: Website / Facebook / Twitter / Bandcamp

Concert Review: Jeffrey Foucault + Big Snow Big Thaw @ Club Cafe / 01.13.2012

Just catching up on some shows I've seen this year. I used to do these things for every concert I went to, and it served as a nice list of shows/bands I saw, at the very least, in addition to a record of my thoughts about them. I'm gonna try to keep up with that this year without falling behind too much (and some better reviews appear on Draw Us Lines when I have more thoughts to share and care more about my writing style).

I try to catch Big Snow Big Thaw at every chance, not just because they're my friends, but because they're great. I remembering being initially surprised at how much I dug these kinds of folksy/bluegrassy sounds, but then I realized that's just me being picky and closed-minded about musical tastes. Call it what you want—newgrass, folk rock, midwest rock 'n roll, somethin' else made up—it doesn't matter. It rocks. And every time they play, they've got new songs to share. They've been hard at work at J Bird Studios and their first album should be out real soon. (In the meantime, do yourself a favor and check out their Winter/Spring EP combo on Bandcamp.) That very same J, he of J Bird, played bass on a bunch of their songs, too, since he has been adding some bass parts during the recording. It rounded out the sound a little bit, and was a nice addition. Here's hoping they explore that route in the future. I caught their set at the Carnegie Library's Sunday afternoon acoustic series (photo above) a few days before this show, too, and that was great to see lots of strangers walking through and sit down and enjoy their tunes.

Jeffrey Foucault was an oustanding performer! Jim and David kinda warned me and the rest of the audience, saying that his soundcheck performance was amazing (he just walked up, no prep, and that voice belted out like he was born singing) and he strikes quite a presence with that magnificently thick beard. He was swigging something from a steel cup, and had been on the road all day, this being the first stop on his tour a long way from his previous night's activity of watching The Muppets with his daughter (why I remember that anecdote, I couldn't tell ya). I hadn't heard any of his songs before and yet I found myself mesmerized. The crowd skewed a little older, I think, and there were some seriously chatty drunkies in the back by the bar, but other than that, everyone was pretty much rapt as JF strummed and sang in front of those Club Café starlights. He did a great Neil Young cover (forget which song) but this number really stood out and was stuck in my head:



Apparently, you can join this Facebook group if you think Jeffrey Foucault isn't famous enough.

Jeffrey Foucault on the web: Website

Big Snow Big Thaw on the web: Facebook / Twitter / Bandcamp

Kiva Han Countdown: 23 days (yesterday's post)

I wonder where Kiva Han gets their baked goods. That chocolate chip muffin I had yesterday was delicious. Spongy, chocolatey, but well-formed enough to rip off chunks and dunk them in the frothy milk of my cappuccino. Yum. A perfect complement to sitting and staring out the window and thinking about math, too.

I met up with a friend there and then we caught a 54 down to the South Side for dinner, and then a concert out in Mt. Oliver. It got me thinking about how there used to be shows here, randomly, from time to time. I have a distinct memory of walking by one a few years ago when I was still newish to town. It couldn't have been an all-out rock show, with noise blaring into the street. But then again, maybe it could. Would businesses on the street be able to complain if there's a rock 'n roll band blasting tunes out of a coffee shop at 8:00 pm on a Saturday, say? I wouldn't really think so, as long as it's not too loud.

This is kind of untapped territory around here, I think. I've heard of shows going on at various coffee shops around town—I even went to one last year at Commonplace in Squirrel Hill and learned that they have (had?) a weekly acoustic set on Tuesday nights—and have heard "you should have been there" stories of years past, like TV on the Radio playing at Quiet Storm or stuff like that. But for all of that chatter, there aren't often coffee shop shows that are well publicized or promoted or attended. There's a thread about KH on a local message board where a Pgh music promoter recalled setting up many shows here in the past, and a musician friend of mine remembers playing here once or twice years ago.

Hmm … maybe there should be some kind of "last day blowout show" here, to celebrate Kiva Han's place in the community. I think that would be fun!

Kiva Han Countdown: 25 days (yesterday's post)

I keep managing to not write these short blurbs until the day after. Oh well. This post corresponds to the unique day where the number of days left in Kiva Han's existence is also the day of the month. My mathematical mind felt that was important to note.

I stopped by yesterday evening around 8 pm for a cup of tea. This time, I went with the liquorice peppermint herbal. It was surprisingly delicious, considering I usually don't like liquorice. I played a couple of games of Outfox with my friend and then did some work. Not much to say, but it was fun and productive, a good combination.

At one point I heard strains of Bob Dylan's voice wafting over my ears, and I strained them to finaly identify the song as "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue". Then I heard faint music coming from the speakers out in the other room. At that point, I realized the guy at the table behind me had his earbuds playing music so loudly I could hear them and identify the song. Turn it down, dude. You're ruining your ears.

The sign was gone from the counter! I had momentary hope that maybe Kiva Han isn't closing after all. That was dashed, of course, later on when I overheard this exchange:

Customer: Are you guys closing?
Barista: Yeah, on February 19th.
Customer: Oh. I meant, like, tonight.
Barista: Oh right. At 10.

By the by, isn't liquorice a weird looking weird? LIQUOR ICE. Weird.

Jams of the day: Reggie Watts / Daytrotter Session

I have no idea how to describe these amazing recordings. Reggie Watts is part comedian, part beat-master, and completely genius. I saw him many years ago in college, opening for Demetri Martin. He did a mixture of standup and music-making, talking in funny voices and saying outrageous non sequiturs, looping his own beatboxing, making synth sounds, and being genuinely crazy the whole time. It was astounding to watch.

This Daytrotter Session of his was recorded at SXSW this year. (Reggie references Austin, TX a lot in his "songs" here.) There are 4 tracks, plus an intro sequence. You have to listen to them. Reggie Watts somehow puts together amaizng beats and melodies and sings over his own voice looped, or maybe there are females backing him, it's hard to say, and things change around and swell and dwindle and loop back around and ... it's mighty impressive how long these things go on. And apparently they were almost entirely improvised! They all feature some silly "radio promo"-style voiceovers (also Reggie, of course) that simultaneously mock and pay homage to rock radio and disc jockeys. And Daytrotter themselves thought the intro was the best they've ever had.

Seriously, just listen to this session. It is crazy.

"And so it's said, my brethren, 'Without contempt, we have nothing.' Please be seated. Now, at this time, more than any other time, is a time for getting down. Many people are not into this lifestyle choice, but they will learn otherwise…Do you believe in everything you've ever heard. We bet you do."