My roommate/cousin, in addition to providing valuable guidance to this former Rock Band/Guitar Hero neophyte, is a pretty good sport about coming to shows with me. It's only fair, then, that I reciprocate when possible--in this case, to see Jenny Lewis.
Jenny Lewis, Herbst Theatre, October 28, 2008: Even as a so-called young 'un, I enjoyed, at best, a tenuous connection with youth culture (exhibit A: my teenage advocacy of Nick Lowe), and it's only gotten worse through the years. Not that I'm particularly fixated on trends, but this mindset can be problematic when you draw your lifeblood from discovering new, exciting bands or performers.
In the case of Rilo Kiley, all I know is that at some point, I started hearing more about them, but I may have associated them with the likes of The O.C. (the television series) and assumed there was no place for me in their fanbase. This extended to Jenny Lewis' solo career. (See also: Death Cab for Cutie.) Mind you, this judgement has nothing to do with the quality of the music--only my silly hangups over the intended audience.
Of course, this isn't the first time--nor will it be the last--that my shortsightedness has kept me away from listening to worthwhile music for longer than need be (hello, Son Volt!). I'm still not convinced that I'll nurture more than a passing familiarity with Rilo Kiley's material, but I wouldn't mind lingering over Jenny's solo catalog.
I freely admit that it all starts with Jenny's captivating voice, despite my ambivalence over female singers in general. On a handful of songs, her singing was so smooth, though, that the tunes almost veered into adult contemporary, but they were the exception rather than the rule. At their best, her vocals ebb and flow with such ease and grace that you assume the words are pure autobiography--how else could anyone sing so convincingly of such events and recollections?
Personally, I neither know nor care how much of her words are rooted in true events; all that matters is that they sound like they are. I can't think of a better example of this than the song "Acid Tongue," featuring Jenny on acoustic guitar and the rest of her band gathered around her and a single microphone to contribute harmonies. Then again, I'm a sucker for that busking vibe.
She filled out her set of tracks from her two solo albums with the Gram Parsons cover "Love Hurts," accompanied by her boyfriend and bandmate Johnathon Rice, and a new song whose title I didn't catch. Though Jenny is often considered an indie rock pinup, the most ardent fans at this show appeared to be of the female persuasion. One shouted out a marriage proposal from the balcony, though most seemed content to cheer her on. I can hardly blame them; her mix of talent, confidence, and individuality is hard to resist.
The show featured two openers. Pierre de Reeder, also from Rilo Kiley, kicked off the proceedings, and Beechwood Sparks filled out the roster. Pierre turned out a catchy, well-paced set, but I can't say the same for Beechwood Sparks. I wanted to like them, especially now that I've cast off most of the Brit-leaning preferences that dominated back when I saw them open for Saint Etienne (or am I hallucinating that show?). Instead, I found it hard to maintain my interest as one song flowed into the next.
See also:
» searching for light in the darkness of insanity
» i see my light come shining
Showing posts with label herbsttheatre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label herbsttheatre. Show all posts
Friday, October 31, 2008
Sunday, October 28, 2007
anomaly
No one needs to be a rock tourist, especially when you live in a city that hosts your three favorite members of your single favorite band for a trio of unrelated gigs all in the same month--much less the same night, as was the case Thursday, when Glenn Kotche and Nels Cline played conflicting shows only a couple miles from each other. For all my willingness to book a cheap flight to whatever town for a random gig, it's nice when the artists come to me. Thus, scheduling conundrum aside, I wasn't about to let this local opportunity pass me by.
Kronos Quartet with Glenn Kotche, Herbst Theatre, October 25-26, 2007: How many times in your life do you get to witness the world premiere of anything (other than, maybe, a made-for-TV movie)? Well, there was the time I happened to be parked in front of the set for MTV's world premiere of Madonna's "Dress You Up" video, but honestly, it was no "Thriller."
But a world premiere was indeed part of tonight's billing, and that, along with Glenn's participation, was the most concrete piece of information I had about the show. Then again, I've taken bigger leaps of faith.
I'm the first person to admit that this sort of work falls far outside my very limited realm of musical knowledge. For example, the program reported that Glenn's composition would be presented in seven movements. I wouldn't know a movement if it slapped me in the face, though I figured we could expect seven discrete components. Where one ended and another began--once again, don't ask me. But ignorance be damned, I wouldn't have missed this show for anything.
What I can tell you is that the work started with each member of the quartet picking up an unusual instrument--chimes, bells, and other ephemera--and coaxing a gentle intro from each, while accompanying themselves with audible sighs and breaths. The cumulative effect made me wonder if Glenn had taken some inspiration from the title of his bandmate's recent release, Draw Breath by the Nels Cline Singers.
It gets a little fuzzy from here, but Glenn eventually joined in, supplying the percussion he's better known for. At times, he set a forceful, driving beat; at others, he added the subtle shadings of sounds elicited from his stable of out-of-the-ordinary implements; and for notable stretches, he did absolutely nothing but monitor the other players with a watchful gaze until it came time to hit his cues. The Kronos Quartet, in turn, eventually came back to the stringed instruments for which they're better known, though they'd revisit their array of whirligigs and whatchamacallits throughout the piece.
And though my description doesn't convey it so well, it wasn't all humorless intensity and concentration. During one of my favorite movements (?), Glenn and the quartet's Jeffrey Zeigler matched each other beat for beat as they whipped identical clacking noisemaker-like items back and forth, the whole time grinning at one another. In a separate segment, the quartet played handbells, sometimes applying bows and brushes to them, bringing to mind The Bells of St. Mary's as staged by, say, Laurie Anderson. In yet another portion, the music came in the form of small twigs or strands straw snapped by the quartet.
From the first time I heard him play with Wilco, I've been struck by Glenn's musical abilities--not something you can say about many drummers. My appreciation shot up another notch with these performances, as I saw for myself how Glenn's artistic ear extends far beyond his drum kit, as well as how other musicians respond to his guidance. It was sort of like finding out that the guy you know who does those amazing wheelies on his dirt bike also happens to occasionally race in wind sprints alongside Tour de France champions.
I've now had numerous opportunities to take in Glenn's work outside of Wilco, and his shows have always left me at least a little more enlightened. It's easy to pick out the elements in his solo performances that he brings to the band, but just as provocative are the sounds and influences that haven't percolated through to his mainstream work. Who's to say if any of these ingredients will ever make their way to Wilco's opus? I wouldn't bet against it, though.
This was my first time seeing the Kronos Quartet, who were as terrific as everyone says they are. Their opening selections were especially impressive: a contemporary, sample-heavy number by Amon Tobin; a modern selection of works by John Zorn, which hit nearly as much on the comical level as much as they did on the musical level; and Raymond Scott's classical, nostalgia-inducing "Twilight in Turkey," which practically invited you to recall all the Warner Bros. cartoons that made use of the tune. It should come as no surprise, however, that my favorite segment of the show outside of Anomaly was their take on Television's magnificent "Marquee Moon."
Glenn's composition was actually the last portion of a two-hour show that also featured two other young composers, Walter Kitundu and South Korean singer/dancer Dohee Lee, and their original works written for the quartet. At the end of the second night, all three composers joined the quartet for the show-closing bow.
See also:
» feels lucky to have you here
» sunken song
Kronos Quartet with Glenn Kotche, Herbst Theatre, October 25-26, 2007: How many times in your life do you get to witness the world premiere of anything (other than, maybe, a made-for-TV movie)? Well, there was the time I happened to be parked in front of the set for MTV's world premiere of Madonna's "Dress You Up" video, but honestly, it was no "Thriller."
But a world premiere was indeed part of tonight's billing, and that, along with Glenn's participation, was the most concrete piece of information I had about the show. Then again, I've taken bigger leaps of faith.
I'm the first person to admit that this sort of work falls far outside my very limited realm of musical knowledge. For example, the program reported that Glenn's composition would be presented in seven movements. I wouldn't know a movement if it slapped me in the face, though I figured we could expect seven discrete components. Where one ended and another began--once again, don't ask me. But ignorance be damned, I wouldn't have missed this show for anything.
What I can tell you is that the work started with each member of the quartet picking up an unusual instrument--chimes, bells, and other ephemera--and coaxing a gentle intro from each, while accompanying themselves with audible sighs and breaths. The cumulative effect made me wonder if Glenn had taken some inspiration from the title of his bandmate's recent release, Draw Breath by the Nels Cline Singers.
It gets a little fuzzy from here, but Glenn eventually joined in, supplying the percussion he's better known for. At times, he set a forceful, driving beat; at others, he added the subtle shadings of sounds elicited from his stable of out-of-the-ordinary implements; and for notable stretches, he did absolutely nothing but monitor the other players with a watchful gaze until it came time to hit his cues. The Kronos Quartet, in turn, eventually came back to the stringed instruments for which they're better known, though they'd revisit their array of whirligigs and whatchamacallits throughout the piece.
And though my description doesn't convey it so well, it wasn't all humorless intensity and concentration. During one of my favorite movements (?), Glenn and the quartet's Jeffrey Zeigler matched each other beat for beat as they whipped identical clacking noisemaker-like items back and forth, the whole time grinning at one another. In a separate segment, the quartet played handbells, sometimes applying bows and brushes to them, bringing to mind The Bells of St. Mary's as staged by, say, Laurie Anderson. In yet another portion, the music came in the form of small twigs or strands straw snapped by the quartet.
From the first time I heard him play with Wilco, I've been struck by Glenn's musical abilities--not something you can say about many drummers. My appreciation shot up another notch with these performances, as I saw for myself how Glenn's artistic ear extends far beyond his drum kit, as well as how other musicians respond to his guidance. It was sort of like finding out that the guy you know who does those amazing wheelies on his dirt bike also happens to occasionally race in wind sprints alongside Tour de France champions.
I've now had numerous opportunities to take in Glenn's work outside of Wilco, and his shows have always left me at least a little more enlightened. It's easy to pick out the elements in his solo performances that he brings to the band, but just as provocative are the sounds and influences that haven't percolated through to his mainstream work. Who's to say if any of these ingredients will ever make their way to Wilco's opus? I wouldn't bet against it, though.
This was my first time seeing the Kronos Quartet, who were as terrific as everyone says they are. Their opening selections were especially impressive: a contemporary, sample-heavy number by Amon Tobin; a modern selection of works by John Zorn, which hit nearly as much on the comical level as much as they did on the musical level; and Raymond Scott's classical, nostalgia-inducing "Twilight in Turkey," which practically invited you to recall all the Warner Bros. cartoons that made use of the tune. It should come as no surprise, however, that my favorite segment of the show outside of Anomaly was their take on Television's magnificent "Marquee Moon."
Glenn's composition was actually the last portion of a two-hour show that also featured two other young composers, Walter Kitundu and South Korean singer/dancer Dohee Lee, and their original works written for the quartet. At the end of the second night, all three composers joined the quartet for the show-closing bow.
See also:
» feels lucky to have you here
» sunken song
Saturday, November 04, 2006
pumpkin
The denouement of a whirlwind weekend! Thanks to my friends for coming along for the ride (and the urban hike).
Nels Cline Group, Herbst Theatre, October 29, 2006: Back in April, Nels told us about his busy schedule, including a potentially action-packed Halloween weekend that would've comprised a Wilco show in Las Vegas and his own show as part of the San Francisco Jazz Fest. Of course, this rock tourist immediately started plotting a jetset adventure that would cover Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and San Francisco, and amazingly, a few friends jumped on the bandwagon immediately. In the end, we did only two of the aforementioned cities, but that was plenty.
So we went to see our third Nels Cline project in a little more than a week, and once again, the man surprised and amazed. Wilco is sort of the odd man out in this grouping, but this show was different from the LACMA show only a couple of days before. For one thing, Nels was the clear leader tonight, though that's not to say he's an attention hog of any sort. Rather, his most visible contributions, aside from his guitarwork, were calling a few musical cues, such as bringing the band back from an improvisational bender on "Not Sa No Sa."
Nels is a consummate team player, and every player got their solo opportunities. I especially enjoyed the horns, but the electric accordion added an unexpected touch. Of course, the sextet was anchored by Scott Amendola, Devin Hoff, and Nels himself--a.k.a. the Nels Cline Singers. Their extensive experience playing together and listening to each other came through emphatically on the suite "No Doubt / 11/8 / Dance with Death." The group ended with "Pumpkin," a short piece that sounded almost rock 'n' roll in performance that night.
We stuck around for the headliner, and boy, am I glad we did, if only so that I could discover how radical a spin Nels had put on the original compositions. Andrew Hill himself looked very frail, and his voice could barely be heard, even without the applause. Perhaps as a trade-off, he put a lot of faith in his group members, especially Charles Tolliver on trumpet, but he also called a few shots. For example, he urged the horn players to return for one song and guided the bass player through another selection. I don't know enough about jazz to explain what I heard, except to say that it was not the easy listening variety commonly heard in storefronts or even the brand of fusion practiced by Nels.
I'd like to thank Heidi and Paul for not flinching at the idea of spending less than 24 hours in San Francisco for a jazz show. I hope it was worth it!
See also:
» don't want to hurt no pandas
» just for one day
Nels Cline Group, Herbst Theatre, October 29, 2006: Back in April, Nels told us about his busy schedule, including a potentially action-packed Halloween weekend that would've comprised a Wilco show in Las Vegas and his own show as part of the San Francisco Jazz Fest. Of course, this rock tourist immediately started plotting a jetset adventure that would cover Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and San Francisco, and amazingly, a few friends jumped on the bandwagon immediately. In the end, we did only two of the aforementioned cities, but that was plenty.
So we went to see our third Nels Cline project in a little more than a week, and once again, the man surprised and amazed. Wilco is sort of the odd man out in this grouping, but this show was different from the LACMA show only a couple of days before. For one thing, Nels was the clear leader tonight, though that's not to say he's an attention hog of any sort. Rather, his most visible contributions, aside from his guitarwork, were calling a few musical cues, such as bringing the band back from an improvisational bender on "Not Sa No Sa."
Nels is a consummate team player, and every player got their solo opportunities. I especially enjoyed the horns, but the electric accordion added an unexpected touch. Of course, the sextet was anchored by Scott Amendola, Devin Hoff, and Nels himself--a.k.a. the Nels Cline Singers. Their extensive experience playing together and listening to each other came through emphatically on the suite "No Doubt / 11/8 / Dance with Death." The group ended with "Pumpkin," a short piece that sounded almost rock 'n' roll in performance that night.
We stuck around for the headliner, and boy, am I glad we did, if only so that I could discover how radical a spin Nels had put on the original compositions. Andrew Hill himself looked very frail, and his voice could barely be heard, even without the applause. Perhaps as a trade-off, he put a lot of faith in his group members, especially Charles Tolliver on trumpet, but he also called a few shots. For example, he urged the horn players to return for one song and guided the bass player through another selection. I don't know enough about jazz to explain what I heard, except to say that it was not the easy listening variety commonly heard in storefronts or even the brand of fusion practiced by Nels.
I'd like to thank Heidi and Paul for not flinching at the idea of spending less than 24 hours in San Francisco for a jazz show. I hope it was worth it!
See also:
» don't want to hurt no pandas
» just for one day
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