Thursday, March 17
Groove Manifesto with Prometheus and Onward Pilgrim
The Loft; 401 W. Main (in Victorian Square). 10:00 P.M.
You know, you reach a certain age and you get more cantankerous and eccentric, and your body starts to break down, and you start randomly shaking your fist at young people for being, well, young, and then you’re more or less waiting to move to Florida and then the great beyond, and that’s the age I’m fast approaching, which I’m fine with, but what’s annoying about the process isn’t the creaky joints or general confusion but that all my musical touchstones, my points of reference, are all decades old, and nobody knows who the hell I’m talking about when I try to talk to them about music, which is one of the reasons I end up shaking my fist so much.
I only bring this up because Groove Manifesto bring back a sound, a vibe, an ambience (here pronounced ahhmbeeahhnce for extra gravitas) that I last heard/felt/experienced about 20 years ago. No, they’re not a grunge band—you would think that because you’re too callow to know anything about the early ’90s except Nirvana, right?—no, they’re…I don’t know…they’re carefree. They sound of that carefree world in which we used to live, our world a decade before 9/11. The Berlin Wall was coming down. The Cold War was over. Nobody had ever heard of Al Qaeda. The war in Iraq lasted, like, a week. Lady Gaga hadn’t yet begun to turn a generation of little girls into streetwalkers. No, we didn’t trust the government, but we didn’t mind much because the kind was still only 40 bucks a quarter. We had the time of our lives, and the music we listened to reflected that: the soundtrack of innocence and joy. That’s the sound of Groove Manifesto, brothers and sisters.
Friday, March 18
Jordan English and the Two Threes
Cheapside; 131 Cheapside. 9:00 P.M.
I have no idea who this guy is. Just opened Cheapside’s calendar and saw the name. Apparently he’s been playing weekly at the Tin Roof, and since I can’t stomach that many fake tans and pre-weathered baseball caps gathered in one place and thus avoid that bar like a cat does a bath, that explains why I’ve never heard of him.
Here’s what I’ve found out so far: his Facebook page has 1,177 “likes,” he once played for Bill Clinton, and he…ah…that’s about it. He’s like Steven Seagal in Flight of Fury: we can trace his history only so far—then the trail goes cold. It’s like there was a void, and then suddenly he was there, label-signed and test-marketed and ready to consume. See him now before he starts dating Jennifer Aniston and his ticket prices skyrocket.
Open Mic Grand Championship Series 2011
Buster’s; 899 Manchester. 9:00 P.M.
If you prefer your fame delivered the old-fashioned way, then bring your axe and whatever friends are willing to risk humiliation with you down to Buster’s for the wild and woolly opening rounds of their Open Mic Series. Each night’s winner gets 100 bucks and a chance to compete in the fall playoffs. Band sign-up starts at 8:00.
Club Dub
Lynagh’s; 384 Woodland. 9:00 P.M.
These guys have been playing around town for so long now that I think we’ve forgotten exactly how good they are. I mean, this isn’t some half-assed bearded-hippie reggae act like Colorado is forever turning out; this is deep stuff from deep musicians, and we shouldn’t take Club Dub for granted.
But you’ve been taking a lot of things for granted lately, haven’t you? Yeah, I’m talking about you-know-who, but there’s other stuff too, isn’t there? Like, why have you put off doing that thing? (You know the one I mean.) What, you’re waiting for “real life” to begin? Stop hurting yourself and everyone who cares about you! Go see Club Dub, for starters.
Tuesday, March 22
The Brothers Burn Mountain with e-s guthrie
Natasha’s; 112 Esplanade. 8:00 P.M.
Aight, so right up front I gotta say that I dig The Brothers Burn Mountain. Ryan and Jesse Dermody play gritty folk-rock of the sort you’d hear on the soundtrack to (in their black mood) a Coen brothers movie. The music conjures up scenes of cowboys and mud, of crimes a century old but not yet forgiven, and of long, dusty journeys with no destination.
However, the band biography on their web site is one of the most pretentious, cliché-ridden texts I’ve ever read. Here’s a sample:
It is deliberate. Observing them, they seem immersed in their own world of rhythms, melodies, words and rhymes. Speaking, at times, rarely—even awkwardly—they appear as if seeking cues of a subtle, natural, even spiritual kind. It may be this juxtaposition of inward discipline, coupled with a profound openness that leads them to compose songs that embody a paradoxical nature.
The music of The Brothers Burn Mountain is simple, yet complex. It is original and new, yet hauntingly familiar. They create songs that seem to have always been. Removing distractions from their lives, they are keen to remove sounds that are not the song, like a sculpter who carves away the stone that is not part of the vision he is working to reveal. The music of The Brothers Burn Mountain is destined to stand the test of time.
A sculpter, eh? With “inward discipline?” Well, they’re from Wisconsin and they’re probably snowed in eight months of the year, so I guess we can forgive them if they get a little introspective and, well, weird, but hey: that shouldn’t put you off from the music. I mean, just because you wouldn’t want to be stuck in a car with Brian Wilson on a cross-country drive doesn’t make The Beach Boys any less awesome. Just don’t ask if the brothers keep a wood chipper out back.
Friday, March 25
The Rough Customers with The Rudies
Al’s Bar; 601 N. Limestone. 9:00 P.M.
Some good Fridays for ska, eh? You went all trance and dub last week at Lynagh’s; now get all punky and bounce around the room at Al’s.
Saturday, March 26
The Chris Campbell Band
Cheapside; 131 Cheapside. 9:00 P.M.
By way of comparison: back in the day I had a Suzy Bogguss cassette that I absolutely wore out. Can’t remember which one it was, but it was a great record. It was sort of country and certainly over-produced, but the songs were all American pop gems that just made you feel pretty good when you heard ’em. And that’s the essence of The Chris Campbell Band too. Word is they have a full-length album on the way, which ought to make us all feel pretty good.
Jackson
Lady Gaga may be responsible for some things, but “turning a generation of little girls into streetwalkers” is not one of them.
I tend to shake my fist at those who lazily tag the most popular artist at the moment as the cause for all adolescent evils.
That being said, nice reviews
Kathy
This comment is for whoever wrote the review for The Brothers Burn Mountain in North of Center:
That last paragraph about The Brothers Burn Mountain is a bit derisive and cruel, and almost as poorly written (though in a different way) as that poorly written band bio that you so viciously criticize. Obviously neither Ryan nor Jesse Dermody wrote that bio. If you’ve ever listened to them in their interviews or spoken to them in person, which I have a couple of times, you’d realize they have a fluid, free-wheeling, unique and original way of saying things. So it makes you wonder who did write that bio, and why it’s up on their website. Maybe it’s beyond their control? For the time being?
I agree with you though that The Brothers Burn Mountain are damn good.
Let me point out to you some of your own pretentions. What do you know about Wisconsin? For example, the snow season in southern Wisconsin lasts about five months these days, not eight months, and is getting shorter and shorter as the world heats up. And if you’ve ever kept up with The Brothers touring schedule, you’d realize how little time they actually spend in Wisconsin. They’re constantly travelling across the entire Midwest and down south too, playing shows. And I’ve seen Fargo by The Coen Brothers that you’ve alluded to with your ‘wood-chipper’ quib, and I find it ridiculous that you’d even try to compare either of The Brothers (who are quite articulate and intelligent and warm-hearted) to that inarticulate, murderous thug from the forementioned film.
Amen.
Buck Edwards
Interesting criticisms. Let me address them point by point:
1. There are many things beyond our control, such as the price of tea in China, the size of our feet, and whether we develop acne as adolescents. Band bios, however, are eminently controllable.
2. I know nothing about Wisconsin. Why would anybody know anything about Wisconsin if they didn’t actually live in Wisconsin?
3. Yeah, global warming’s a bitch.
4. As far as I’m concerned, the Brothers have a wood chipper out back until it is positively demonstrated that they do not. That doesn’t lessen the quality of their music.
5. Amen to you too.