Live: Robert Randolph and the Family Band at Artscape, Baltimore, MD

Date: July 18, 2009

Robert Randolph tore things up on Saturday night at Artscape, including two amazing Michael Jackson covers and plenty of crowd participation.

Live: Good Old War, Pela and the Gaslight Anthem

May 7, 2009, Recher Theatre, Towson, Maryland



The Gaslight Anthem released one of 2008's best records, were a highlight of last summer's Vans Warped Tour, released an fantastic 10" on Record Store Day and are now on the verge of opening for perhaps their biggest influence, Bruce Springsteen. There really couldn't be much more of a positive vibe or greater expectations (yeah, pun intended) coming into a show than that. Since seeing them on the Warped Tour back in August (and being out of town for their Baltimore stop a few months back), there is no band on the planet I was more excited to see again, especially as a headliner. Would it be worth the wait? I had to check out two other bands first to find out.

  



Good Old War played a set of indie-folk tunes full of subtly amazing musicianship and beautiful harmonies. They're one of those bands who's playing is intricate and amazing if you pay attention, yet could easily be enjoyed directly for its sweet combination of hooks and harmony. They never overwhelmed the music with anything flashy, despite clearly having the chops to pour it on had they trusted their music less.

  



Pela, who two years ago were listed by Rolling Stone as an "artist to watch" (take that however you will), were up next. Artists like Tom Petty, the Who, the Clash and the Replacements all came to mind as they ran through their set of straight-forward rock songs. That begs the question: What do these artists (Pela included) have in common? In light of tonight's performance, the answer is that they cast aside self-importance, over-indulgence and pretensions, simply letting the songs speak for themselves. And that's what made the set so powerful. The songs were solid, but more importantly, the performance made a connection. That's why their cover of "Guns of Brixton" worked so well. In fact, that one rousing cover really says all that needs to be said about their set. Even the slightest hint of dishonesty would not just have killed the song, but their entire performance. It was bolder than maybe they even realized, but they nailed it.

  

  

  

Right now, the Gaslight Anthem may understand better than anyone else that there is one perfect formula for great rock and roll: Poor your heart out over a few chords and some colorful hooks and you can't go wrong. It's clear on the albums and it was clear tonight at the show. Though the two acts before them set a high bar, particularly in the way of just plain honesty, the Gaslight Anthem were still the evenings brightest light. Their honesty is, without compromise, a bit more creative and poetic than their peers. This night, they achieved an odd perfection that has nothing to do with note-for-note reproductions of the studio material. Instead, it is a perfect balance between songs, stories and a fantastic cover of "Left of the Dial." When they open for Springsteen, I hope he pays attention. He just might (re-)learn a thing or two.

Vans Warped Tour 2008!

I spent all day yesterday enjoying plenty of sunshine and rock and roll at the Baltimore/Washington stop of the Vans Warped Tour. Coverage and pictures are on the way, but here's a quick shot of the huge circle pit that the Street Dogs had going around the sound tent.



See all of my Warped Tour coverage here.

Review: New York Dolls - Live at the Fillmore East

Label: Sony BMG

Released: May 27, 2008

Live at the Fillmore East was recorded only a little over a month before I saw the Dolls play in Baltimore, so I had a good idea of the potential this release had. Despite my feelings about One Day It Will Please Us to Remember Even This, I found the show to be warm, exciting and just plain fun. The question wasn't whether the Dolls were good live, but whether they could be captured on the album.

If Live at the Fillmore East has a fault, it's brevity. The album has only 10 tracks culled from two shows. They rely heavily on their first (and best) record while only taking two a piece from its follow-up and their reunion album. For those who found One Day It Will Please Us... refreshing, it may be a bit disappointing to miss "Fishnets & Cigarettes" or "Dancing on the Edge of a Volcano" and even I was a bit disappointed that the focus here was on the past. Nonetheless, the Dolls don't sound like old men here. They're excited and energetic and the album captures a good bit of the warmth they exude in their live show. Sure, much of the funny banter is missing (Sylvain is pretty funny), but human beauty (yeah, they're beautiful in their own way) is still there. The dedication of "Lonely Planet Boy" to Johnny Thunders is touching even (or as touching as a bunch of old punks can be).

Like any live album, this is no substitute for seeing the real thing, so get out there and catch these guys while you can. In the meantime though, Live at the Fillmore East should hold you over. And if you've already seen them, it serves as a great memory.

Ratings
Satriani: 6/10
Zappa: 6/10
Dylan: 7/10
Aretha: 8/10
Overall: 7/10

Website

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If you're curious about my rating categories, read the description.

Live: The Bowmans

March 12, 2008, Baltimore Chop Books, Baltimore, Maryland

This was a night of endangered and lost arts: folk music, storytelling, community...and geography. That's right, geography. Over the course of an intimate night of folk music in a small (and very cool) independent book store, Sarah and Claire Bowman, through the stories attached to and included in their music, illustrated the importance of geography, where you are, to everything from scenery to relationships to state of mind. When you hear great harmonies like the Bowmans display on their Far From Home album, you have to wonder how many takes it took or how much help they might have gotten in the studio. Seeing them live in a small space not designed specifically for music answers that question: they can do it at will, no tricks whatsoever. The sisters simply have an innate sense of each other when they sing and it is simply amazing to hear it in person. Their songs, including a few new ones, could be so delicate that they mixed with the breeze blowing flyers hanging in the doorway or so bold that they literally filled the room. Their sound, with just their two voices, a guitar and light percussion, was stronger and clearer than just about any I've heard even plugged in and mixed in venues designed only for music. They trusted their music enough to bring Joe, a guy from the audience with whom they had never played in person, up to join them for a song.

Baltimore Chop Books has regular musical guests and it's a great place to see some great music. One couple brought their infant daughter and it was entirely appropriate. Others in the crowd ranged from 20s to maybe 60s. While an artist sketched the performance, others discussed baseball and news during the break. There was even a dog at the show! It was the kind of event where there were no barriers between people other than those brought with you (and even some of those were likely broken down). The place just had a real sense of human community. Add the music and it probably can't be beat.



Website

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Live: Rude & the Rekkless, We Are the Fury, New York Dolls

February 12, 2008, Rams Head Live, Baltimore, Maryland

I wasn't sure what to expect of the audience at a New York Dolls show in 2008. Would it be mostly an older crowd who'd known the Dolls from their earliest days? A group of thirty-somethings who know the them as the influence on bands they liked say twenty years ago? How about the young hipster crowd looking to show how much they know about the roots of punk? As it turned out, it was all of that and more. This show took "all ages" to heart, running from kids whose parents probably dropped them off to people older than the Dolls themselves. It was a little light due to bad weather, but all were seemingly quite happy to catch the Dolls kick off their 2008 tour. The fans really ran the spectrum from punk to goth to glam to I'm-not-worried-about-dressing-up types. Over the last 35 years, the Dolls have managed to pick up a pretty good variety of fans.

The opening act was local Baltimore band Rude & the Reckless, made up of former and current members of several local punk outfits. The played their gritty journeyman punk with conviction, including a good cover of the Vibrators' "Baby, Baby, Baby." While their set was straightforward and fun, they did push their song "TV Addict" nearly to the edge before reining it back in. It was old school punk played by a group of guys that had been around awhile yet happened to have a ton of youthful energy. They may not have broken down barriers, but they rolled through their short set and got a fairly lackluster crowd excited.



Toledo, Ohio's We Are the Fury followed. Their brand of 70s glam-influenced rock was a good fit for the Dolls. They set high expectations when they came on stage to the music from A Clockwork Orange, but delivered. They tapped into Ziggy-era Bowie and Sweet primarily and like those artists, they weren't afraid of pop music, instead wearing it on their sleeves. With piano parts so flamboyant Elton John would be proud and a frontman who could keep up with Rod Stewart in his prime (even though his voice was far cleaner along the lines of Sweet's Brian Connolly), they were equally comfortable with slow boogie ballads and showtune-turned-rocker pop. Despite multiple unheeded attempts to engage the audience ("move up, this is a rock and roll show" and "there's no mosh pit, you don't have to be afraid of the music"), We Are the Fury was undeterred in the effort to put on an outstanding rock show. Surely they must have found the crowd's lukewarm response to be frustrating, but that frustration never showed beyond the puzzled look on singer Jeremy Lublin's face before diving back into the enraptured fit of raw, androgynous sexuality that was his performance. Too bad for the audience, because We Are the Fury was outstanding.



Unlike so many people, I was unimpressed with One Day It Will Please Us to Remember Even This. To me, the album was made by old men trying to sound young. The live show, on the other hand, wasn't like that at all. The only thing that indicated David Johansen's age was the little bit of pudgy belly that stuck out between his tight bell-bottoms and pink rhinestone studded shirt. Otherwise, he had all the engaging energy that he must've burst onto the scene with 35 years ago. Sylvain Sylvain was like a giddy little kid and was so excited to play that he exuded a kind of corny enthusiasm (the kind that would cause him to try to grab Johansen's package at one point and seem charming in the process or to continue playing through a broken string as if nothing had happened). Guitarist Steve Conte, bassist Sami Yaffa (ex-Hanoi Rocks if you were wondering) and drummer Brian Delaney kept the energy going, but had the good sense not to interfere with the magic between Johansen and Sylvain. It was that magic, as much as the music itself, that made this show so intimate. For just an hour or so, we were all New York Dolls, sharing the wild fun that continues to make them a great rock and roll band.

Typically, a reunited band generates the most excitement with their old classics, but the Dolls actually got as much out of this crowd with their newer material. "Fishnets & Cigarettes" got every bit as much of a roar as "Personality Crisis," which they tore into after sitting down for second then getting up and calling it their encore. They may be taking this opportunity to make some of the money they've long been due, but there's no doubt that they're willing to earn it in the here and now and not just cash in on their lauded past. Even if this wasn't the opportunity to see a bit of history that it was, a band who's influence extends across 35 years and far outshines its only meager commercial success, it would still have been a great time, because the New York Dolls, even at this point, put on an outstanding and outrageous show (without even dressing in drag). At one point, Sylvain announced, "It's a great thing to be alive!" Indeed it is, indeed it is.

Live: Ladysmith Black Mambazo

January 23, 2008, Joseph Meyerhoff Symphony Hall, Baltimore, Maryland

Everyone remembers Ladysmith Black Mambazo for their contributions to Paul Simon's Graceland, but the group, formed in the late 1950s in South Africa, has had a prolific recording career to which many people are oblivious. As an a capella group playing traditional African music, there isn't a huge market for their albums here outside of world music circles and their studio performances (without Paul Simon anyway) don't really transcend that boundary. However, seeing them live is another thing altogether.

This is the second time I've seen Ladysmith and both experiences have been...well, amazing. The power of their voices is so much more than that of a rock band with a wall of Marshalls. Joseph Shabalala, their leader and lead vocalist, still has a striking voice. The eight other singers that make up Ladysmith are so smooth that they function as one, even as individuals leave the harmony to sing other parts. Technical perfection is almost always at the expense of heart and soul, but not with Ladysmith. Theirs is a perfection that comes from within and washes over the audience in waves of beauty, hope and joy.

Their traditional dances, unlike the music, seem less perfect, more random and spontaneous, and perhaps this is what brings the very spiritual experience of hearing them sing back down to earth. Don't get me wrong, they're amazing dancers, more limber than I thought possible (and they're not all young men).

The music and dance combine not just as a cultural experience but also to bring Ladysmith's ultimate message: hope. This isn't some superficial, sugary message about a better tomorrow, it's not even so much a message as it is their very essence. This is a group formed out of the hope of people living in the townships under apartheid, the hopes of people who have lost loved ones, the hope that sustains, not the false hope of lies. It's striking to hear this hope in their music while living in a culture that's sarcastic and cynical despite being inundated with comfort and convenience. It was strange to walk out into the Baltimore night afterwards and know that the hope that sustained Ladysmith in times worse than we know in America today is missing. And that's what's killing people, perhaps more than guns and drugs. The group has a humility (and corny sense of humor), despite being international recording artists, despite being able to truly hold thousands with just their voices, that allows the music to speak their message without preaching, without complaint. There is something in Ladysmith Black Mambazo that could change us...if only we listen.

Here are a few videos, but none do them justice:

Live in 2003


With Paul Simon at Graceland - The African Concert


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Myspace

Live: Niki Barr Band, Action Action, The Cult

November 12, 2007, Rams Head Live!, Baltimore Maryland

Surprises at a show are a mixed bag. Most often they're of the unpleasant sort when the band you go to see doesn't live up to your (often over-hyped) expectation. Every now and then though, there's a good one. On Monday night at Rams Head Live, I got three of them.

The opening act was the local Niki Barr Band. Most small bands would play this opportunity safe. It seems so seldom that a local band throws caution to the wind and goes all out in the shadow of a headliner with the Cult's stature. Surprise #1: Niki and company played their all too short set as though they were the main attraction. Their performance had that intangible strength that comes from confidence. It wasn't the songs themselves so much as how they dug deep to play them. Their infectious energy didn't go unnoticed: The next day, they were invited to join the tour for two more dates in Buffalo and Indianapolis.



Next up was New York's Action Action and their angular neo-new wave. This is a fairly overloaded genre right now, but theirs is a better than average take on it. They didn't get bogged down in the synth parts (even though each band member contributed his share of electronic accents) and had a particular knack for smoothing out the right edges at the right time with nice melodic riffs. That being said, their performance was safe and planned even to the extent that they took a Jagermeister break served by a pair of over-sexy young women. I know that's the tour sponsor, but I didn't go to the show for a commercial break and any inroads Action Action had made with me were largely undone at that point. As the set moved into the its final song, I was left feeling pretty empty. Good music just doesn't amount to much live without at least a little heart. Surprise #2: Instead of limping across the finish line as I was expecting at this point, Action Action instead lived up tho their name and then some. The song rose in manic intensity as it went on and the previously lackluster band exploded through their last minutes in front of us. I'm not sure what held them back during the rest of the set, but that final barrage made up for everything else (even the Jager commercial).



The Cult are one of those bands that I've always wanted to see, but just never have. Based on the strength of their last two albums, I had high expectations that they would not have lost much over the almost 20 years since their popularity peaked. The Cult delivered. After some minor sound adjustments, the Cult hit stride a few songs in. Their set focused on both the new album as well as their 80s peak, ignoring their 90s releases entirely (except for "The Witch" from the 1992 Cool World soundtrack). I fully expected them to be able to pull off the old tunes every bit as well as the new and they certainly didn't disappoint. Ian Asbury's voice was as powerful as ever as was his Jim Morrison impression. What's amazing is that, as contrived as it seems when talking about it, the raw power and sexuality that Astbury exudes seems natural. Likewise, Billy Duffy's mastery of every conceivable guitarist pose would seem like idotic rock star ego from just about anyone else, but Duffy turns it into a natural extension of his performance. There were no surprises in the songs themselves. The Cult was every bit as dark and mystical as their music has been at its best. "Edie (Ciao Baby)" and "She Sells Sanctuary," for instance, were every bit the surreal experiences I'd hoped they'd be. Surprise #3: What I didn't expect was how down to earth they were at the same time. Astbury engaged in enough genuine banter with the crowd to translate into a more fundamental connection than just a band on stage would ever allow. Between the regular set and the encore, they showed their video for "Tiger in the Sun" that showed the upheaval in Burma as the people struggle to free themselves from a repressive regime. I'm not fan of planned encores, but this was an impressive use the otherwise tired convention. Unfortunately, the poignant moment was largely lost on the Baltimore crowd who engaged in the typical chanting as if the band's return to the stage wasn't a forgone conclusion. The encore, "Holy Mountain" and the title track from their latest as well as the still-etched-in-our-brains "Love Removal Machine," was looser and more relaxed, but unleashed every bit as much power, providing a fitting finish to a set that moved over the crowd in waves of sonic magic. Their ability to be both otherworldly and populist, to use rock cliches without being cliched themselves and to have all power of their younger years shows that the Cult may just be a perfect rock band.

It was a night of surprises: a bold opener, a strong finish to a lackluster set and a human connection with a band of almost transcendental power. But one thing was not a surprise: The Cult still have it.

Live: De Novo Dahl, Bedouin Soundclash and Hot Hot Heat

October 15, 2007, Rams Head Live!, Baltimore, Maryland

I hadn't heard of De Novo Dahl prior to seeing them on the bill for this show. Other than a few tracks I sampled to get an idea of what to expect, this show was my first exposure. That being said, I don't think there was much that could have prepared me for their set. They sported bright, tacky, sequined outfits that matched their apparent love of cheap, tacky 70s pop. However, both of these seeming improprieties are part of a broader whole that is predominately made up of rock and soul. The core of the band's performance is singer/guitarist Joel J. Dahl, whose mixture of rock guitar flourishes and soulful vocals (including a nice falsetto) is the flag around which the band rallies. They would have done well to incorporate more background vocals from percussionist/omnichordist Serai Zaffiro whose breathy voice goes so well with Dahl's, but that's a minor complaint. Most interesting of all was how this quirky pop band was able to achieve two things that elude most of their peers. First, they rocked. Not just in the generic sense, but in the broken strings and drum sticks sense. They were powerful...and sweet. Second, they were down-to-earth. Bassist Keith Lowen's nervous speech about their upcoming video shoot put the band on a plane with the crowd. After the set, drummer Mixta Huxtable walked over and gave a broken stick to a kid up front. Even without these overt examples, De Novo Dahl connected with an audience that wasn't even there to see them. People danced. The crowd was excited. They won us over on their own terms, without even asking.

Bedouin Soundclash is the band I was there to see. After hearing Street Gospels, a huge step forward in songwriting and performance, I had very high expectations for the live set. I was certainly hoping that the set list would concentrate on their recent release, but only three songs came from that album. That being said, the songs from Sounding a Mosaic incorporated everything Bedouin learned between the two albums and sounded every bit as good as the new ones, muting my disappointment in not hearing "St Andrews," "Trinco Dog" or the a cappella "Hush." Everything that made Street Gospels great, tightness, flow, energy and soul, made their live set just as good. The problem was simply that they capture so much of that on the album that the live show can't provide much more, making them victims of their own success.

I'm not a big Hot Hot Heat fan. They're a middling band who's released some decent material, but has never really found their own thing at which to excel. Unlike Bedouin, I had only moderate expectations for the headliner and by and large they failed to hit even that meager mark. Overall, their performance was as thin and dull as their imitation of the Strokes. They kicked off the show with a bombastic entrance that would have been cool had they either been an amazingly simple band (the irony angle) or as good as such an entrance suggested (the arrogance angle). Instead the band lazed through the set while frontman Steve Bays overcompensated, prancing around like Mick Jagger in a Broadway show. Interestingly, when the band finally kicked in on the last two songs of the regular set, Bays' antics no longer seemed so affected. It was as if he was free to actually perform once the weight of the show was off his shoulders. Had Hot Hot Heat played the whole set like they did the last few songs, they would have lived up to their entrance and their name. Instead, they seemed more like Lukewarm Lukewarm Heat.


Bedouin Soundclash photos:

Live Review: Virgin Festival 2007 Day One

Pimlico Racecourse, Baltimore, Maryland

August 4, 2007

Catching Day one of Baltimore's Virgin Fest was a bit of a surprise. A friend had tickets she couldn't use, so she gave them to me. With that bit of kind good fortune, I headed off to Pimlico with Ray (of The Metal Minute) for 10 hours of rock n roll in the hot summer sun.

In order to enjoy the music, there is a lot of logistics that go into a successful festival of this scale. For the most part, Virgin Fest succeeded. The grounds at Pimlico were spread out enough that neither the two large stages nor the dance tent and smaller performance spaces interfered with each other. It also provided plenty of "in between" space to get a break from the crowd. Food and merchandise were all easy to find. They had several mist tents (Re Generation Domes) to cool off and all were easy to get into any time I tried. There was a definite focus on recycling with recycling and composting bins at every trash receptacle. Plus, a lot of the trash generated by the festival itself was compostable and they did use at least some "green" energy. It wasn't perfect, but it was a step in the right direction. There were plenty of spot-a-pots and I really didn't see a lot of lines, although I didn't have to use them myself despite drinking over three liters of water (it was just that hot). On the down side, water fountains were a little sparse and the lines were long. The stage schedules were the most problematic thing I faced. I had to make a few tough decisions when sets overlapped. Merch prices were outrageous ($35 festival t-shirts, $20 posters, etc. etc.), but that wasn't much of a surprise. All in all though, the festival was well-organized and ran smoothly.

The schedule was on the web, so I planned ahead and picked out who I wanted to see. Some acts I really wanted to see and others I was just curious about. In the end, it didn't matter, because circumstances and my own changing views modified my pre-determined schedule anyway. I made two important decisions going in: First, I was going to cut out on the Beastie Boys 20 minutes early to ensure that I saw the entire TV on the Radio set. Second, I wasn't going to see the Police, because I can't stomach Sting no matter how much I love the music. These two decisions would end up playing off each other in determining what I actually saw and how I felt about it.

I didn't expect to catch any of Fountains of Wayne, because 15 minutes after they started, Fiction Plane would play on the South Stage. But the crowd wasn't too bad for Fiction Plane, so I ended up strolling over and catching a few songs from Fountains of Wayne. I don't really care much for them and the two and a half songs that I saw were just what I expected. The live edge made them a little better than they are in the studio, but not enough to keep me there in lieu of Sting's biological and musical son's band.

I caught most of Fiction Plane's set. In many ways, they were a very good band. They were very tight and their energy was genuine. They did a scorching version of "Sadr City Blues" that really got the crowd stirred up, especially considering how early it was. The problem was they sounded just like the Police. I understand that some of that is just genetics, but the similarities run much deeper than the vocals. The songs themselves sounded like second-rate Synchronicity. I have to wonder why a band as good as Fiction Plane would settle for being a knock-off when they have the potential to be a great band in their own right. Nonetheless, it did raise the question of who was a better Police at this moment, Fiction Plane or the reunited Police themselves. Despite earlier misgivings, I decided at this point to catch a bit of the Police's set just to answer that question.

From there, I headed back to the North Stage to see Cheap Trick. I've never cared for them aside from “Surrender,” but I've always heard they're a fantastic live act. They had all the trappings of a great rock act. Rick Nielson went through guitar changes like a boy band goes through costume changes. His banter with the crowd was a perfect mix of arrogance and tongue-in-cheek humor. They really seemed like they hadn't missed a beat since they regularly played shows this big all those years ago. They touched on all the big hits (including "Surrender" which gave me cold chills to hear live) and threw in a new song as well just to show they were still making new music. They proved that they're still a very good rock band who even now puts the power in power pop.

Spending the whole 50 minutes with Cheap Trick came at some cost. I missed the first half hour of the Fratellis, who I suspected had the potential to put on a fine performance. While they didn't make me wish I'd bagged on Cheap Trick, they certainly made me wish the bands hadn't overlapped. The Fratellis high-energy garage rock borrowed just enough from rockabilly to make things interesting.

I trekked back across the infield to catch Amy Winehouse. I like her voice, but her propensity for being erratic (not in the good way) kept my expectations fairly low. It's a good thing too. Winehouse certainly seemed to be in another world. Her backing band was a solid outfit, but she was unemotional and timid even. At one point, her mike came unplugged. She seemed baffled, laughed uncomfortably and then fumbled to plug it back in. A better performer wouldn't have missed a beat. Amy Winehouse, however, is not that good.

It was off to the dance tent next. While I was hoping to see Sasha & John Digweed, there were other conflicts, but during the lull that was Paolo Nutini and Incubus, neither of which interested me in the least, we caught part of Felix Da Housecat's set. Dance music isn't quite my thing, but I've been told that in the right atmosphere anyone will dance. Maybe that's not true or maybe this wasn't the right environment, but I didnot dance. Still, the crowd seemed to be feeding of of his energy and vice versa. It was a decent performance, but not one that will make a convert out of me.

While walking back across the field, we spotted some performance artists with a band backing them. Grandchildren played some pretty out-there avant-jazz that really hit me. It was good enough to skip Peter Bjorn and John on the South Stage to hang around for their set and pick up their CD.

Another band off the beaten path was Center Stage performers Motormorons. The Baltimore band included a guy who played power tools, a vocalist who contributed to the power tool section with some fine work on the metal can grinder. They were completely bizarre, mixing industrial noise (the tools, not the genre) with barely competent art rock a la Flipper. During their first set, the bass died, but they just kept going. The ability to play under adverse conditions is really the sign of a great band. I ran back over to see their second set between Ben Harper and the Beastie Boys.

Jam bands aren't really my thing, but knowing that Ben Harper is a fantastic musician and that his band would be capable of backing him, I was sure it would be worth seeing. The band's reggae/funk blend was super-tight and some of the percussion work was among the day's best. Harper's voice had great movement making it the core of the performance. As good as his voice was though, it was topped by his slide playing. Overall, the performance was very good, occasionally reaching the level of greatness.

I approached the Beastie Boys with mixed feelings. On one had, I wanted them to be as good as I hoped. On the other, I wished they'd be disappointing, because I knew I was going to miss the last 20 minutes of their set to head over to TV on the Radio. The Beasties ran through the breadth of the styles they incorporate. They hit the instrumentals, the live band songs, the old school punk and of course, the rap. Their ability to nail all of these genres without breaking stride was just dumbfounding. They left little doubt in my mind about their greatness.

Leaving the Beastie Boys early was tough and they were good enough that it almost certainly set TV on the Radio up to be a disappointment. I decided to take the chance of banking on the future rather than the past and present. That gamble paid off huge. TV on the Radio are not just the future, but the very bridge to get there. Unlike some of their post-rock contemporaries, the term “post” doesn't really apply, because it indicates that they don't rock. Their set at Virgin Fest leaves no doubt that they do. It occurred to me how interesting it was that I left a band who had once been that bridge themselves to see the new bridge, the one we'll all be crossing, some sooner than others. Their ability to translate into a live setting answered the one question left in my mind. Seeing the future also allowed me to deal more easily with the past as I headed over toward the Police.

I headed from South to North once again, this time to catch just enough of the Police to compare them to their almost-cover band, Fiction Plane before getting back to see Modest Mouse. I could hear "Synchronicity II" as I came over. The closer I got, the harder it was to forget that I love the Police no matter what I think of Sting. Little did I know at that point that I wouldn't even see Modest Mouse. I began to consider that I may have been wrong, maybe Sting does have some soul left. Maybe it's just buried under his tremendous ego (you know, it's the one that makes him think that his solo work isn't just lite-jazz crap, or lite-renaissance crap as the case may be). Early in the set, one of the many flying beach balls landed up on stage near Sting. This was it, the deciding factor as to whether he really had anything inside. He let it sit and I thought, "Ahh, I'm right. He just goes through the motions, completely disconnected." Then, he pulled back his leg and kicked it back into the crowd. It was a small thing, but it made a big difference to me. It showed me that he did in fact have some connection to the crowd. From that point on, there was no leaving. I knew right then and there, that Modest Mouse really didn't matter, but the Police, or at least their songs, still do.

Their sound was usually very crisp and clean. I was easily reminded of why Stewart Copeland is one of rock's very best drummers and why Andy Summers is one of its most underrated guitarists. Maybe it was just the songs I love, the night and a chorus of tens of thousands singing along, but all my obstinacy couldn't drag me away any longer.

They had some new arrangements and we all know what happened the last time the Police offered us a new arrangement: "Don't Stand So Close to Me '86" was even worse that some of Sting's solo work. A few of these did have problems, but nothing nearly as bad. "Wrapped Around Your Finger" struggled the whole way through despite treating us to Stewart Copeland's fine percussion work. Likewise, "King of Pain" was largely reworked less than favorably. Other songs were stretched out with new parts, but left the rest mostly intact. These fared better. About thirty minutes before the end of their allotted time, the Police walked off. It was just their staged encore though and they came back and played their remaining time and then finished with "Next to You" as a second encore. I'm of the opinion that encores in general should be abandoned and this one was particularly planned since everyone knew the time the festival had set aside. It was easily forgotten though, especially as they played the rocked-up and extended "Every Breath You Take." In the end, to answer my question from earlier, the Police are still the best Police.

So what kept me there, watching a band I said in advance I wouldn't watch, fronted by a man whose soulless music and lightly veiled hypocrisy in the post-Police years make me sick? The bottom line was the songs. I loved them 25 years ago and I love them still, even performed by a band re-united after all this time. I'm glad I stayed and watched. I don't regret missing Modest Mouse in the least. For what it's worth, I never clapped for the Police, but I sang along a lot. The songs don't care if I clapped.

One last thing. I have to thank The Children's Health Fund for the apples. Just for getting on their mailing list, they gave out nice juicy Granny Smiths that just may have been the best thing of the day!

Live: Deep Sleep, Liars Academy, Loved Ones and Strike Anywhere

May 16, 2007, The Ottobar, Baltimore, Maryland

First, this show was a benefit for a great cause. J. Robbins has given an awful lot to the music community over the years between his own bands and those he produced. Now, J.'s family is in need. His son Callum has Spinal Muscular Atrophy and his care requires more than insurance will pay. There was a nice turnout for the show, so that will hopefully help out the Robbins family. If you want to learn more or help out, check out For Callum.

In addition to being a great cause, the show was a real deal at $10 for four bands. First up was Baltimore locals Deep Sleep. Their set was short (under 20 minutes) and likely included every song on their 9-song debut 7". But it was a short, fast explosion. Borrowing heavily from Chavo-era Black Flag in both sound and presence, Deep Sleep may never become a great band, but they certainly ripped it up as an opener and got the show off on the right foot.

Deep Sleep was followed by Baltimore natives Liars Academy. They came out with three guitarists and I expected it was just a way to get all thier buddies in the band rather than actually serving a purpose. However, their riff-heavy brand of emo really employed the whole band's skills. The harmonies were usually a little off (something I'm sure they remedied in the studio), but they were otherwise tight. The lead vocals brought most of the emo elements to the table, but singer Ryan Shelkett did keep enough edge on his voice to avoid much of the sappiness that often weakens bands of that genre. Still, it had enough soft spots to make me wonder if the album had the same punch as the live show. While they weren't my favorite of the night, Liars Academy certainly were the most musically interesting.

Philadelphia's Loved Ones didn't have the creativity of Liars Academy, but they made up for it with good energy, good hooks and good nature. They played a set full of gritty, catchy punk along the lines of bands like Avail. While they weren't musically remarkable, they were very engaging, both in calling the audience to support the cause and to have fun at the same time. The Loved Ones are certainly up my alley and I would recommend catching them live if you can just because it's a guaranteed good time full of solid punk rock.

Strike Anywhere headlined the show. They're one of those bands that I like well enough, but never got tremendously excited about. They seemed like a good political punk band, spewing anger over fast and somewhat melodic songs, but not particularly special among their peers. I had no idea what I was in for though. Strike Anywhere played 50+ minutes of pure adrenalin, their righteous anger full of love. I don't know if I've ever seen a band blast out that much energy over a full set. I've always thought there were two reasons to be really angry: because you hate the world or because you love the world. The latter is the one that resonates with me and that is exactly why Strike Anywhere's set felt so good. Despite the crowd's demands, they didn't come back for an encore and I applaud them for it. Why should they when they left everything out there in the set? They had nothing left to prove and probably little energy left to give. If anyone complained, they must've been in the bathroom for the whole set, because there was no reason to walk away anything less than elated.

Live: Orange, Heart Attacks, Time Again, Necromantix

May 4, 2007, The Ottobar, Baltimore, Maryland

Last night, Ray and I caught the Necromantix show at the Ottobar. Since the Necromantix have a decided retro feel, I kind of expected that there would be some degree of nostalgia to the evening, but it wasn't all what I expected. As it turned out, with varying success, each band was a throwback to an era other than their own. The bands weren’t the only one’s getting into the past though. There was a pretty funny example of it in the audience as well. As I was watching the night second band, I noticed a girl a few people in front of me. She had X's on her hands, so she was under 21 for sure, but by the looks of her, I suspect she was probably closer to 18. The weird thing was this: She had the words, "Reagan sucks" painted on the back of her jacket. Reagan? I wonder if I should have clued her in that Reagan isn't president anymore. Actually, he hasn't been president since she was no more than two. It's the worst example I think I've ever seen of living in someone else's past. Guess, what, George W. Bush is president now and he sucks too! Why don't you pick on your own president? There's no protest in "Reagan sucks" anymore. I sure hope she isn’t planning on attending the Rock Against Reagan festival this year! So, you get the picture. That was the kind of night it was.

The opener was a band called Orange. They were a throwback to the 90s. There was nothing wrong with them other than the fact that they're like a second generation copy of the Clash and Buzzcocks via Rancid and Green Day. It'd be one thing if they reached all the way back to those roots, but instead, they merely copied the watered down punk of the 90s. Each generation away from the original loses a little soul is lost when rehashing the past. Orange doesn't have the soul of Rancid or Green Day who don't have the soul of the Clash or Buzzcocks. I'm not saying that new bands don't have soul, just those that reinvent the wheel. The problem with Orange isn't that they were bad, just that they weren't special. I saw the drummer after the show and he had a Frank Zappa shirt on. Maybe Orange should spend some time listening to Zappa to infuse a little creativity into their music. As it stands, they're wholly unoriginal. Their CD was $5. I passed.

Next up was the New York Dolls, I mean the Heart Attacks. They were a throwback to the 70s. These guys looked like the Dolls, they sounded like the Dolls, they almost were the Dolls. Unlike Orange, they were a first generation copy and they did it with enthusiasm. I've seen a lot of bands try to convey energy on the Ottobar's small stage and struggle to keep from running into each other. The Heart Attacks didn't bother with that struggle. They were all over the place with wild abandon. Singer Chase Noles did tumbles across the tiny stage and jumped from the balcony into the crowd. Guitarist Tuk also jumped into the crowd while playing the final song of the set. These guys might not have been the most original band, but they played with a lot of energy. Besides, they're a better New York Dolls than the New York Dolls are these days.

Time Again came on next. This time it was a throwback to the 80s. A first generation copy of 80s hardcore (largely DC-style in my opinion), they also mixed things up with a couple of slower melodic songs that made them a bit more multi-dimensional. As exciting as the Heart Attacks were, Time Again made them look like they were standing still. They had that rare gift of truly engaging the audience and almost the entire lower floor of the Ottobar was a big pit, swirling in an old school circle. It was good to watch (even 20 years ago, I was never one to be in the pit), because it was kids as a community, looking out for each other and just having fun. Time Again was simply a solid hardcore band, but they had that intangible that made them one with the audience and produced a better show than any band can put on alone. I'm not a big fan of encores, because they're almost never spontaneous, but a band that isn't headlining doesn't plan an encore, because they never get to do one. Time Again had created such a good vibe that the crowd called for it and they obliged! The spontaneity of the whole thing made it one of the best encores I've ever seen. After the show, I only had $7 cash left after admission and parking, but guitarist Elijah Reyes sold me the full-length for what I had in my pocket even thought they were charging $10. How punk is that? As Ray and I were walking out to the car, drummer Ryan Purucker told us that they would be back in a few months with the Casualties. I'm definitely gonna try to be there!

That brings us to band we went to see, the Necromantix. Of course, they were a throwback to the 50s, but that's their shtick. They're not just a revival though; they take rockabilly, mix it up with some old B horror movies and a little punk rock and turn it into their own thing. They're the cream of the psychobilly crop and I expected a great show. I was even more excited after Time Again's set, because a pretty high bar was set for the night's performances, so the Necromantix couldn't just go through the motions. Well, they didn't, but they didn't outplay Time Again either. The Necromantix had two things against them from the start. First, the mix was terrible. Half the time, I couldn't hear the guitar and the other half, it sounded too fuzzy, more like Blue Cheer than Gene Vincent. On top of that, they did a few things that separated them from the crowd. No one was allowed on stage. The few people that did get up were quickly removed by either Ottobar staff or the Necromantix manager. When the manager wasn't keeping fans from participating, he was busy pointing out people with video cameras in the audience with a flashlight. What does it hurt them for someone to tape the show? Is that gonna cut into the sales of their smash hit live DVD or something? That’s commercial rock behavior. Do they think they're Metallica? All of those shenanigans left a bad taste in my mouth even though they proved to be pretty amazing musicians. Bassist Kim Nekroman is such a dynamic player that his coffin-shaped bass is a minor detail. At one point, he was using his foot instead of his fret hand. He was all over the place, leaning into the crowd and putting on a generally exciting show. Drummer Andy DeMize had the touch of a jazz drummer and played with effortless energy. Unfortunately the technical problems made guitarist Tröy Deströy difficult to hear. He had a subdued stage presence, sitting down when the others soloed, but conveyed the whole rockabilly image very well. When I could hear him, it was clear that he had the chops even if the mix was screwing it up. The Necromantix really did play a fine set, but they seemed so distanced from the audience after Time Again that I just didn't find them engaging. To further distance themselves from all things right with a punk rock show, their merch was on the pricey side. CDs were a reasonable $10, but shirts and LPs were $15, they had a bandana for $10(!) and belt buckle for $25. I know merch is where they make their money, but I still found them to be a bit high.

So, this night of nostalgia had some surprises (Time Again and to lesser extent the Heart Attacks), a disappointment (Necromantix) and a small dose of mediocrity (Orange). It's a shame they didn't have a garage band on the bill to cover the 60s. Then it would have been the history of rock n roll in one night in the tiny, little Ottobar. All in all, it was well worth the $12 I paid to get in. Seriously, I would pay $12 to see Time Again alone, so everything else was a bonus.