B.B. King and Etta James kept it traditional, but Los Lobos and G. Love added new flavors to this year’s Doheny Blues Festival.
By CHRIS NIXON
Special to The Orange County Register
"Just throw your hands in the air, and wave 'em like you just don't care." It's a well-worn refrain heard at rap shows from coast to coast. Standard practice, really.
Take a closer look at the events unfolding in Dana Point on Saturday. The band: G. Love & Special Sauce. The locale: The Doheny Blues Festival.
Sporting a '70s wide-lapel lemon-yellow suit, lead singer Garrett Dutton strutted across the stage with hip-hop bravado while spitting rhymes in his thick Philly accent. In contrast, he also picked crunchy blues riffs and blew a mean harp (strapped around his neck John Lee Hooker-style).
G. Love & Special Sauce's performance at the 9th annual Doheny Blues Festival implied a sea change in the seaside festival's focus and scope, drawing the youngest crowd of the weekend.
Born on back porches in rural America, the blues has never shied away from embracing trends. Electric guitars, rock, funk and soul all have extended the genre's possibilities.
Event organizer Omega Entertainment knows this and Doheny 2006 reflected it, moving from strictly traditional blues to happy co-mingling with modern influences.
Blending new subgenres with time-tested favorites, this year's festival embraced both the blues and its musical progeny. G. Love's Saturday show provided the most obvious evidence, but other bands appeared willing to bust out of the 12-bar blues formula during the two-day fest at picturesque Doheny State Beach in Dana Point.
SoCal stalwarts Los Lobos brought some East L.A. flavor to the proceedings, tipping their collective caps to Long Beach's Brad Nowell with a cover of Sublime's mellow reggae tune "Pawn Shop."
David Hidalgo and the boys kept true to their Latino roots, busting a bit of cumbia in their Saturday set on the main stage.
Meanwhile, on the tiny Backporch Stage, James Hunter and his six-piece band blended soulful ska, '50s rockabilly and old-school R&B. With shows on both Saturday and Sunday, the English crooner turned in impressive performances with his great pipes and spot-on band.
Oakland's longtime funk and soul maestros Tower of Power dragged the definition of blues back to the era of disco balls and Studio 54. Ripping, chunky guitar riffs by Trey Stone (George Clinton, Bootsy Collins), David Garibaldi's quintessential funk drum lines and the soulful vocals of Larry Braggs gave new life to the band's classic tunes, like "What Is Hip?" and "Knock Yourself Out."
As the wind kicked up and the skies darkened on Sunday, John Hiatt - with his strummy roots-rock and country twang - jammed with the North Mississippi Allstars on the Renaissance Stage.
Blues originators also graced the bill, with Etta James headlining Saturday's festivities and the Chairman of the Blues, B.B. King, holding court on Sunday evening. King is celebrating his 80th birthday this year by doing what he does best: hitting the road and spreading the gospel of the blues. King - who won his 14th Grammy this year for his album "80" - closed out the festival Sunday with his trademark style.
As is tradition at King's shows, his veteran backing band warmed up the crowd with a couple of jams. Before B.B. (for "Blues Boy," a nickname he garnered as a youth in Memphis) picked up his beloved Lucille (his patented Gibson guitar), Dana Point Mayor Lara Anderson proclaimed May 21 as "B.B. King Day."
Though seated throughout most of his set, the entertainer showed why he's called "King of the Blues." The crowd adored him as he told stories and ran through a set of his signature tunes.
James - known for her ballad "At Last" and the R&B classic "Tell Mama," among many others - looked svelte and sexy during her smoking 90-minute set.
The singer is fresh off losing 200 pounds after stomach-stapling surgery. She seemed to enjoy her new frame by literally bumping and grinding through a selection of her songs and a couple of covers (Rev. Al Green's "Love and Happiness" and Otis Redding's "Hard to Handle").
As James danced with her young grandson onstage Saturday night, the 68-year-old singer seemed to make a point: The blues must respect its past while embracing rock, soul, funk and even hip-hop to ensure its future.
Even if it involves waving your hands in the air.
Chris Nixon is a music writer based in San Diego.
Monday, May 22, 2006
Ministry, Revco in the U-T
Ministry is still raging against the machine
By Chris Nixon
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
May 18, 2006
Pearl Jam and Neil Young may have their recently released anti-war albums, but when it comes to pure vitriolic revolution songs, Al Jourgensen and his industrial thrash band Ministry rails against George W. Bush like no one else.
Brimming with indignant rage, Ministry's new album, “Rio Grande Blood,” recaptures the revolutionary spirit of the band's heyday (see 1992's “Psalm 69”). Through 10 blistering tracks, Jourgensen and his crew rant on topics ranging from corporate corruption (“Fear (Is Big Business)”) to 9/11 (“Lies, Lies, Lies”) to U.S. military policy (“Gangreen”).
Jourgensen takes shots at Dubya at every turn, asking a question on “Lies, Lies Lies”: If the government truly has nothing to hide / Why are they afraid to answer a few questions?
Jourgensen incorporates an all-star team of musicians on the album and the subsequent tour (stopping at the House of Blues downtown Sunday night), including drummer Joey Jordison (Slipknot), guitarist Mike Scaccia (Rigor Mortis), keyboardist John Bechdel (Fear Factory, Prong) guitarist Tommy Victor (Prong) and bassist Paul Raven (Killing Joke).
“I think we represent the spirit of rebellion that has been very underground as far as music is concerned,” said bassist Raven. “I can't tell you what all these industrial bands and people like Trent Reznor are doing. I got into music in 1977 in the time of punk rock. Music and politics has been inseparable.”
“Rio Grande Blood” (a play on ZZ Top's “Rio Grande Mud”) also marks the third Ministry album since Jourgensen became clean and sober. After years of heroin use, the frontman finally confronted his addiction. Longtime friend Raven said it's good to have the old Al back.
“The post-drugs Al has come out of this with a renewed sense of vigor,” said Raven. “He's still as – if not more – creative than ever. He's got a sense of humor and all his marbles and faculties intact. A lot of people don't get to enjoy life a second time around.”
About the tour, Raven said: “We call it Ministry on steroids, because everyone says it's the best they've heard the band. We take our cues off of a lot of what the fans say. They get online after every show and dissect the show. We look at that in the morning and take it in.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
May 18, 2006
Pearl Jam and Neil Young may have their recently released anti-war albums, but when it comes to pure vitriolic revolution songs, Al Jourgensen and his industrial thrash band Ministry rails against George W. Bush like no one else.
Brimming with indignant rage, Ministry's new album, “Rio Grande Blood,” recaptures the revolutionary spirit of the band's heyday (see 1992's “Psalm 69”). Through 10 blistering tracks, Jourgensen and his crew rant on topics ranging from corporate corruption (“Fear (Is Big Business)”) to 9/11 (“Lies, Lies, Lies”) to U.S. military policy (“Gangreen”).
Jourgensen takes shots at Dubya at every turn, asking a question on “Lies, Lies Lies”: If the government truly has nothing to hide / Why are they afraid to answer a few questions?
Jourgensen incorporates an all-star team of musicians on the album and the subsequent tour (stopping at the House of Blues downtown Sunday night), including drummer Joey Jordison (Slipknot), guitarist Mike Scaccia (Rigor Mortis), keyboardist John Bechdel (Fear Factory, Prong) guitarist Tommy Victor (Prong) and bassist Paul Raven (Killing Joke).
“I think we represent the spirit of rebellion that has been very underground as far as music is concerned,” said bassist Raven. “I can't tell you what all these industrial bands and people like Trent Reznor are doing. I got into music in 1977 in the time of punk rock. Music and politics has been inseparable.”
“Rio Grande Blood” (a play on ZZ Top's “Rio Grande Mud”) also marks the third Ministry album since Jourgensen became clean and sober. After years of heroin use, the frontman finally confronted his addiction. Longtime friend Raven said it's good to have the old Al back.
“The post-drugs Al has come out of this with a renewed sense of vigor,” said Raven. “He's still as – if not more – creative than ever. He's got a sense of humor and all his marbles and faculties intact. A lot of people don't get to enjoy life a second time around.”
About the tour, Raven said: “We call it Ministry on steroids, because everyone says it's the best they've heard the band. We take our cues off of a lot of what the fans say. They get online after every show and dissect the show. We look at that in the morning and take it in.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Localese: Greg Laswell
BY CHRIS NIXON
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
May 11, 2006
'That song was inspired by my grandmother, who passed away when I was 13. One night, I dreamed she came to me, and in the dream she said 'Sing happy things.' When I woke up, I said 'I will,' but nothing worked. Instead, I thought I'd at least make a song sound happy,” says San Diego singer-songwriter Greg Laswell about the first single from his upcoming sophomore release.
Describing the sound of “Sing Theresa Says” as happy might be a stretch. The first song on Laswell's new disc has enough sad beauty to extend June gloom all year. But sad or happy, Laswell is a great producer and song sculptor.
“Through Toledo” (Vanguard, three and a half stars), his second album as a solo artist, finds Laswell recovering from a painful divorce. The record's lyrics and sound reflect the multi-instrumentalist's tough emotional times. The result is 11 strikingly crafted, heartbreaking pop songs. Laswell mentioned recently in a profile for Night&Day's Street section that two favorite albums are Radiohead's “OK Computer” and The Beatles' “Revolver.” With “Through Toledo's” penchant for layered production, subtle reverse guitar lines and artsy approach, both influences make sense.
When he's not producing albums for other San Diego musicians like Molly Jenson and Dustin Shey, Laswell has been building a bigger audience with tons of local shows (check www.greglaswell.com). He's also playing a free show June 23 with Anya Marina at El Cajon's “Concerts on the Green.” “Through Toledo” isn't scheduled to hit record stores until July 11, but you can check out his first album, “Good Movie” (best local album at the San Diego Music Awards), in the meantime and see him live to tide you over.
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
May 11, 2006
'That song was inspired by my grandmother, who passed away when I was 13. One night, I dreamed she came to me, and in the dream she said 'Sing happy things.' When I woke up, I said 'I will,' but nothing worked. Instead, I thought I'd at least make a song sound happy,” says San Diego singer-songwriter Greg Laswell about the first single from his upcoming sophomore release.
Describing the sound of “Sing Theresa Says” as happy might be a stretch. The first song on Laswell's new disc has enough sad beauty to extend June gloom all year. But sad or happy, Laswell is a great producer and song sculptor.
“Through Toledo” (Vanguard, three and a half stars), his second album as a solo artist, finds Laswell recovering from a painful divorce. The record's lyrics and sound reflect the multi-instrumentalist's tough emotional times. The result is 11 strikingly crafted, heartbreaking pop songs. Laswell mentioned recently in a profile for Night&Day's Street section that two favorite albums are Radiohead's “OK Computer” and The Beatles' “Revolver.” With “Through Toledo's” penchant for layered production, subtle reverse guitar lines and artsy approach, both influences make sense.
When he's not producing albums for other San Diego musicians like Molly Jenson and Dustin Shey, Laswell has been building a bigger audience with tons of local shows (check www.greglaswell.com). He's also playing a free show June 23 with Anya Marina at El Cajon's “Concerts on the Green.” “Through Toledo” isn't scheduled to hit record stores until July 11, but you can check out his first album, “Good Movie” (best local album at the San Diego Music Awards), in the meantime and see him live to tide you over.
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
RJ + Al = Soul Position
Soul Position has its own hip-hop blueprint
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
May 4, 2006
If you let the TV define what black is / You think that ice and violence is all that matters / I guess this is what happens / When rappers look up to up thugs / And kids look up to rappers, rhymes MC Blueprint on the Soul Position single “Hand Me Downs.”
Blueprint doesn't shy away from visceral issues like violence and race in his raps, instead coming at you with clear-eyed consciousness and a lucid vision of tomorrow.
“Even when I write something funny, I try to make it so there's some kind of message in there,” says Blueprint, riding in his tour van en route to a show in Des Moines, Iowa. “But, at the same time, we didn't want to make a dark, bleeding heart, artsy, political record. We try to create songs with a message that people can actually move to.”
The balance to Blueprint's socially conscious rhymes comes in the form of RJD2, aka RJ Krohn and the other half of Soul Position. The 29-year-old arranger and sonic sculptor produced a literal who's who of underground hip-hop (Aceyalone, Murs, Cannibal Ox, Aesop Rock, Diverse). He's also released two of his own successful albums: “Dead Ringer” in 2002 and “Since We Last Spoke” in 2004. His style has been compared to a less-pompous DJ Shadow, shaping old-school vinyl samples into a hip-hop collage.
RJD2 brings a lighter, more party vibe to Soul Position jams, acting as equilibrium to Blueprint's pointed diatribes. For the producer, working with MCs provides an exercise in more subtle techniques: “It's an opportunity to play by the rules and stay inside the box. It's a challenge.”
The duo met in their hometown of Columbus, Ohio, finding common ground in the tightknit hip-hop community in a town not normally associated with rap. They debuted with “8 Million Stories” in 2003, followed by “Things Go Better With RJ and Al” (released last month).
During the making of the last album, RJD2 lived in Philadelphia while Blueprint still called Columbus his home. Through e-mails, phone calls and a couple of visits, “Things Go Better” came together virtually through long-distance communication. The musical dialogue between the two musicians remains at the heart of Soul Position.
“We have an honest relationship,” says RJD2, comparing Soul Position to other production gigs he's had in the past. “We get on the phone and we can accurately critique aspects of a song. When you don't know somebody that well, it can be kind of weird to be constructively criticizing a song. There's no concern about feelings when we're working on music together. We can just be honest. It's easier to be straightforward and say what you're thinking.”
Despite the stereotypes Blueprint criticizes in “Hand Me Downs,” hip-hop has come a long way when it comes to accepting blacks and whites working together in the rap context. Blueprint (a black man) doesn't sense any pushback from the public in terms of working with RJD2 (a white guy).
“Back in the day, hip-hop was a real 'pro black' thing,” recalls Blueprint. “But nowadays, people aren't tripping about that kind of stuff. Rap is the voice of the youth of America and of the disenfranchised, people who don't have a voice. It's not a matter of black or white, it's a matter of right and wrong.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
May 4, 2006
If you let the TV define what black is / You think that ice and violence is all that matters / I guess this is what happens / When rappers look up to up thugs / And kids look up to rappers, rhymes MC Blueprint on the Soul Position single “Hand Me Downs.”
Blueprint doesn't shy away from visceral issues like violence and race in his raps, instead coming at you with clear-eyed consciousness and a lucid vision of tomorrow.
“Even when I write something funny, I try to make it so there's some kind of message in there,” says Blueprint, riding in his tour van en route to a show in Des Moines, Iowa. “But, at the same time, we didn't want to make a dark, bleeding heart, artsy, political record. We try to create songs with a message that people can actually move to.”
The balance to Blueprint's socially conscious rhymes comes in the form of RJD2, aka RJ Krohn and the other half of Soul Position. The 29-year-old arranger and sonic sculptor produced a literal who's who of underground hip-hop (Aceyalone, Murs, Cannibal Ox, Aesop Rock, Diverse). He's also released two of his own successful albums: “Dead Ringer” in 2002 and “Since We Last Spoke” in 2004. His style has been compared to a less-pompous DJ Shadow, shaping old-school vinyl samples into a hip-hop collage.
RJD2 brings a lighter, more party vibe to Soul Position jams, acting as equilibrium to Blueprint's pointed diatribes. For the producer, working with MCs provides an exercise in more subtle techniques: “It's an opportunity to play by the rules and stay inside the box. It's a challenge.”
The duo met in their hometown of Columbus, Ohio, finding common ground in the tightknit hip-hop community in a town not normally associated with rap. They debuted with “8 Million Stories” in 2003, followed by “Things Go Better With RJ and Al” (released last month).
During the making of the last album, RJD2 lived in Philadelphia while Blueprint still called Columbus his home. Through e-mails, phone calls and a couple of visits, “Things Go Better” came together virtually through long-distance communication. The musical dialogue between the two musicians remains at the heart of Soul Position.
“We have an honest relationship,” says RJD2, comparing Soul Position to other production gigs he's had in the past. “We get on the phone and we can accurately critique aspects of a song. When you don't know somebody that well, it can be kind of weird to be constructively criticizing a song. There's no concern about feelings when we're working on music together. We can just be honest. It's easier to be straightforward and say what you're thinking.”
Despite the stereotypes Blueprint criticizes in “Hand Me Downs,” hip-hop has come a long way when it comes to accepting blacks and whites working together in the rap context. Blueprint (a black man) doesn't sense any pushback from the public in terms of working with RJD2 (a white guy).
“Back in the day, hip-hop was a real 'pro black' thing,” recalls Blueprint. “But nowadays, people aren't tripping about that kind of stuff. Rap is the voice of the youth of America and of the disenfranchised, people who don't have a voice. It's not a matter of black or white, it's a matter of right and wrong.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Coachella: Hot acts under the blazing sun
Big names draw fans, but fronting new music is Coachella's aim
By Chris Nixon
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
May 1, 2006
On any other day, the sand surrounding Palm Springs serves as home for desert rats, meth freaks and golfing retirees. For two days a year, the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival welcomes backpacker rap lovers, indie rockers sporting thick black glasses and long-haired retro rockers – everyone trotting out their version of cool and getting scorched in the blazing sun.
Held on the Empire Polo Fields in Indio, 104 bands spread across five stages congregated Saturday and yesterday to represent a wide swath of modern music. From Cat Power's mellow soul to Kanye West's popular brand of rap, familiar names and new music mingle under the desert sun. The formula works: Coachella sold out 60,000 tickets for each day.
Beyond the name recognition of headliners such as Tool and Depeche Mode, the seventh annual Coachella finds itself struggling to expose large crowds to new music while pulling in mainstream audiences with big-name acts. While organizers generally succeed in accomplishing both objectives, the festival at times felt like two separate gatherings.
During the afternoon on both days, smaller crowds gathered to hear buzz bands like Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Metric and The Magic Numbers. Audiences were rewarded with worthy performances, also discovering innovative groups while wandering the expansive grounds.
As the light faded and day turned to night, brand name bands took the stage. Crowds grew larger, and the effects of a long day in the sun took its toll on concertgoers: Space became a premium, and lines grew larger for the beer tent and bathrooms. The focus shifted away from the music to a more party atmosphere.
Saturday's lineup offered a bevy of opportunities to see iconic groups and artists embarking into brave new worlds. Great Britain's The White Rose Movement – named after the German resistance group opposing the Nazis during World War II – gave people a fresh name to remember from the festival. Most people had never heard the band's music. But the U.K.-based five-piece ripped through a half-hour set of fiery keyboard-driven New Wave that injected a bustling energy into the Mojave Tent crowd. Lead singer Finn Vine set the tone for the day with his stage banter: “Maybe later we can all get naked and eat some mangoes and have some fun in the sun.”
Later on the same stage, Wolfmother's muscle car rock found guitarist and vocalist Andrew Stockdale cranking raw power chords on his Gibson SG, much like fellow Aussie Angus Young (AC/DC). The trio busted out '70s-inspired van rock: part BTO, part Black Sabbath.
Standbys like Depeche Mode and Franz Ferdinand delivered inspired sets on the main Coachella stage, giving people the name recognition and familiar songs audiences crave at the end of a long 12 hours of music.
Yesterday's lineup was packed with diverse artists such as the Malian blues of Amadou and Mariam and the ballistic theatrics of Tool. The festival's second day also provided the toughest choice of the weekend.
Five extremely different and talented artists at five different locales graced stages at 8 p.m.: Brazilian crooner Seu Jorge in the Gobi Tent; retro alt-rockers The Editors in the Mojave Tent; classic jazzy hip-hop trio Digable Planets at the Outdoor Theatre Stage; the infectious vocals of Karen O and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs on the main Coachella Stage; and, of course, pop icon Madonna in probably the most hotly anticipated show of the entire festival.
If it was up to me, I'd probably chill with Seu Jorge. But I'd be remiss on my duties here if I didn't poke my head into the Sahara Tent to check out the Material Girl in action.
Probably the largest crowd of the festival gathered around the Sahara Tent last night for Madonna's performance. Was it devout fans finally seeing Madonna's first festival appearance or vague curiosity? The latter, I think.
The huge crowd made for the worst sight lines of the entire two days. After making the audience wait 20 minutes beyond her scheduled start time, the queen of pop finally graced the crowd with her presence.
A guy near me sarcastically squealed, “Oh my God, it's Madonna!” The Material Girl rubbed herself all over a few male dancers and pulled off a few tired choreographed dance moves.
After a couple of new songs, most of the overflow crowd standing outside the tent wandered away in boredom. So did I.
For the generation of kids that grew up in the '90s listening to alternative rock, Coachella and its headlining bands serve as a nostalgic look back. Tool, Depeche Mode and even a sugary sweet dose of pop culture with Madonna provided known quantities musically. The big names bring the people in; hopefully, they get exposed to new music along the way.
With the sheer volume of cutting-edge bands weighing down the early part of the bill, Coachella's sweaty masses discovered bands like Deerhoof, the White Rose Movement and Amadou and Mariam. After the high ticket prices (close to $100 per day after charges and fees), the hot sun and massive crowds, the festival can take endurance and a hearty soul. But discovering new music along the way makes it worthwhile.
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
Coachella sidebar: High-energy music mix at Coachella
These bands put up the best shows at this year's Coachella Festival:
Deerhoof (Saturday): San Francisco's Deerhoof proved to be the discovery of day one. Satomi Matsuzaki's high-pitched chirping, combined with the band's herky-jerky rock, made many instant fans. Drummer Greg Saunier steered Deerhoof through choppy waters and odd time signatures with aggression and joy. Awesome.
Lyrics Born (Saturday): MC Lyrics Born (aka Tom Shimura) spits in front of a live band so his set felt more fluid and less scripted than loads of hip-hop shows. Lyrics Born fits nicely into the conscious style of rap coming out of the Bay Area these days.
Kanye West (Saturday): Kanye West drew a huge crowd to his main stage show, and he couldn't help but mention the Grammy Awards' snuff of his single, “Gold Digger”: “Here's the national anthem. Even though the Grammys got it wrong, this was the song of the year.” Some fans didn't feel it and were lukewarm, but West put on a great performance.
Amadou and Mariam (yesterday): Bringing joyful African beats and good-natured dance music, blind Malian husband-and-wife duo Amadou and Miriam mixed old and new. “Dimanche a Bamako” was set in a stunning mix of traditional American blues and Malian traditional styles. The band shifted easily from bluesy rock with touches of electronica to straight-ahead percussion-rich African tunes. Amadou mesmerizes on the guitar, and when the couple harmonized it was blissful.
The Magic Numbers (yesterday): This British brothers-sisters act added a little sugary pop to the party. The Numbers know their Brian Wilson, and the band is clearly sincere about its music .... and it shows.
Metric (yesterday): Emily Haines knows how to put on a show. The Metric lead singer jumped, danced and struck her best rock 'n' roll poses against the Canadian band's muscular New Wave. Metric seems to blow up bigger with each stop in SoCal. The crowd knew all the words, and Metric's words are worth knowing. So is its music.
– CHRIS NIXON
By Chris Nixon
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
May 1, 2006
On any other day, the sand surrounding Palm Springs serves as home for desert rats, meth freaks and golfing retirees. For two days a year, the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival welcomes backpacker rap lovers, indie rockers sporting thick black glasses and long-haired retro rockers – everyone trotting out their version of cool and getting scorched in the blazing sun.
Held on the Empire Polo Fields in Indio, 104 bands spread across five stages congregated Saturday and yesterday to represent a wide swath of modern music. From Cat Power's mellow soul to Kanye West's popular brand of rap, familiar names and new music mingle under the desert sun. The formula works: Coachella sold out 60,000 tickets for each day.
Beyond the name recognition of headliners such as Tool and Depeche Mode, the seventh annual Coachella finds itself struggling to expose large crowds to new music while pulling in mainstream audiences with big-name acts. While organizers generally succeed in accomplishing both objectives, the festival at times felt like two separate gatherings.
During the afternoon on both days, smaller crowds gathered to hear buzz bands like Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Metric and The Magic Numbers. Audiences were rewarded with worthy performances, also discovering innovative groups while wandering the expansive grounds.
As the light faded and day turned to night, brand name bands took the stage. Crowds grew larger, and the effects of a long day in the sun took its toll on concertgoers: Space became a premium, and lines grew larger for the beer tent and bathrooms. The focus shifted away from the music to a more party atmosphere.
Saturday's lineup offered a bevy of opportunities to see iconic groups and artists embarking into brave new worlds. Great Britain's The White Rose Movement – named after the German resistance group opposing the Nazis during World War II – gave people a fresh name to remember from the festival. Most people had never heard the band's music. But the U.K.-based five-piece ripped through a half-hour set of fiery keyboard-driven New Wave that injected a bustling energy into the Mojave Tent crowd. Lead singer Finn Vine set the tone for the day with his stage banter: “Maybe later we can all get naked and eat some mangoes and have some fun in the sun.”
Later on the same stage, Wolfmother's muscle car rock found guitarist and vocalist Andrew Stockdale cranking raw power chords on his Gibson SG, much like fellow Aussie Angus Young (AC/DC). The trio busted out '70s-inspired van rock: part BTO, part Black Sabbath.
Standbys like Depeche Mode and Franz Ferdinand delivered inspired sets on the main Coachella stage, giving people the name recognition and familiar songs audiences crave at the end of a long 12 hours of music.
Yesterday's lineup was packed with diverse artists such as the Malian blues of Amadou and Mariam and the ballistic theatrics of Tool. The festival's second day also provided the toughest choice of the weekend.
Five extremely different and talented artists at five different locales graced stages at 8 p.m.: Brazilian crooner Seu Jorge in the Gobi Tent; retro alt-rockers The Editors in the Mojave Tent; classic jazzy hip-hop trio Digable Planets at the Outdoor Theatre Stage; the infectious vocals of Karen O and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs on the main Coachella Stage; and, of course, pop icon Madonna in probably the most hotly anticipated show of the entire festival.
If it was up to me, I'd probably chill with Seu Jorge. But I'd be remiss on my duties here if I didn't poke my head into the Sahara Tent to check out the Material Girl in action.
Probably the largest crowd of the festival gathered around the Sahara Tent last night for Madonna's performance. Was it devout fans finally seeing Madonna's first festival appearance or vague curiosity? The latter, I think.
The huge crowd made for the worst sight lines of the entire two days. After making the audience wait 20 minutes beyond her scheduled start time, the queen of pop finally graced the crowd with her presence.
A guy near me sarcastically squealed, “Oh my God, it's Madonna!” The Material Girl rubbed herself all over a few male dancers and pulled off a few tired choreographed dance moves.
After a couple of new songs, most of the overflow crowd standing outside the tent wandered away in boredom. So did I.
For the generation of kids that grew up in the '90s listening to alternative rock, Coachella and its headlining bands serve as a nostalgic look back. Tool, Depeche Mode and even a sugary sweet dose of pop culture with Madonna provided known quantities musically. The big names bring the people in; hopefully, they get exposed to new music along the way.
With the sheer volume of cutting-edge bands weighing down the early part of the bill, Coachella's sweaty masses discovered bands like Deerhoof, the White Rose Movement and Amadou and Mariam. After the high ticket prices (close to $100 per day after charges and fees), the hot sun and massive crowds, the festival can take endurance and a hearty soul. But discovering new music along the way makes it worthwhile.
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
Coachella sidebar: High-energy music mix at Coachella
These bands put up the best shows at this year's Coachella Festival:
Deerhoof (Saturday): San Francisco's Deerhoof proved to be the discovery of day one. Satomi Matsuzaki's high-pitched chirping, combined with the band's herky-jerky rock, made many instant fans. Drummer Greg Saunier steered Deerhoof through choppy waters and odd time signatures with aggression and joy. Awesome.
Lyrics Born (Saturday): MC Lyrics Born (aka Tom Shimura) spits in front of a live band so his set felt more fluid and less scripted than loads of hip-hop shows. Lyrics Born fits nicely into the conscious style of rap coming out of the Bay Area these days.
Kanye West (Saturday): Kanye West drew a huge crowd to his main stage show, and he couldn't help but mention the Grammy Awards' snuff of his single, “Gold Digger”: “Here's the national anthem. Even though the Grammys got it wrong, this was the song of the year.” Some fans didn't feel it and were lukewarm, but West put on a great performance.
Amadou and Mariam (yesterday): Bringing joyful African beats and good-natured dance music, blind Malian husband-and-wife duo Amadou and Miriam mixed old and new. “Dimanche a Bamako” was set in a stunning mix of traditional American blues and Malian traditional styles. The band shifted easily from bluesy rock with touches of electronica to straight-ahead percussion-rich African tunes. Amadou mesmerizes on the guitar, and when the couple harmonized it was blissful.
The Magic Numbers (yesterday): This British brothers-sisters act added a little sugary pop to the party. The Numbers know their Brian Wilson, and the band is clearly sincere about its music .... and it shows.
Metric (yesterday): Emily Haines knows how to put on a show. The Metric lead singer jumped, danced and struck her best rock 'n' roll poses against the Canadian band's muscular New Wave. Metric seems to blow up bigger with each stop in SoCal. The crowd knew all the words, and Metric's words are worth knowing. So is its music.
– CHRIS NIXON
The happy wanderer: Devendra Banhart
Devendra Banhart gets a lot of mileage out of his songs and his lifestyle
By Chris Nixon
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
April 27, 2006
'I'm painting a rhinoceros,” said psychedelic folk singer Devendra Banhart from his current home in Topanga Canyon, north of Los Angeles. “My dad was recently living in Nairobi. He sent me some pictures of him next to a rhinoceros, so I decided to try and paint a rhinoceros.”
Packed with beautiful, nonsensical images and nuggets of wisdom, a conversation with the 25-year-old bearded singer-songwriter feels like listening to one of his songs. You find yourself following him on his nonlinear yet pleasing path. By the end of a song or a conversation, Banhart's words draw you into his world.
“I haven't lived anywhere for three years and I've always wanted to live in Topanga,” said Banhart. “It's like my home. But really I'm not based anywhere. We're all just based within ourselves.”
Accented by gentle finger-picked acoustic guitar and his high-pitched wavering vocals, Banhart's songs capture a wistful playfulness and an endearing innocence. He first came into the national spotlight after his 2002 recording “Oh Me, Oh My,” brimming with 22 tracks with titles like “Roots (If the Sky Were a Stone),” “Legless Love” and “Lend Me Your Teeth.” The long-haired musician has released an album a year since his debut: 2003's “Rejoicing in the Hand,” 2004's “Niño Rojo” and, most recently, “Cripple Crow” in 2005.
Released on XL Recordings and recorded in Bearsville, N.Y. (just outside of Woodstock), “Cripple Crow” furthers Banhart's Donovan-style mystique with his unique vocals and 1960s folk low-tech approach. The beauty of Banhart's songwriting comes in the psychedelic imagery and simple, stripped down approach to songcraft: “What I do is beyond rudimentary.”
Since he was a kid, Banhart has lived the life of a wanderer. After his birth in Texas, he lived in Venezuela, San Francisco, New York and Paris between traveling and tours. He comes by the wanderlust honestly.
“My mom, I grew up with her,” remembered Banhart. “We would travel and just show up anywhere. The first thing we would do is get lost. She would say, 'Look at something on the horizon and let's walk there.' Basically, we would walk until we were lost, and then we'd walk until we were found. Those were my formative years. Those were my first experiences with travel.”
Despite living the life of a musician and artist, Banhart admits he doesn't really obsess about his art too much.
“I just look at (music) as another form of travel,” said Banhart, who will travel to the Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach tonight. “I can't show up at a venue, look at something on the horizon and get lost because I have to play a show. I look at the music as this field where I'm going to go and totally get lost in. That's a pretty cheesy thing to say, but that's the way I look at it.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
April 27, 2006
'I'm painting a rhinoceros,” said psychedelic folk singer Devendra Banhart from his current home in Topanga Canyon, north of Los Angeles. “My dad was recently living in Nairobi. He sent me some pictures of him next to a rhinoceros, so I decided to try and paint a rhinoceros.”
Packed with beautiful, nonsensical images and nuggets of wisdom, a conversation with the 25-year-old bearded singer-songwriter feels like listening to one of his songs. You find yourself following him on his nonlinear yet pleasing path. By the end of a song or a conversation, Banhart's words draw you into his world.
“I haven't lived anywhere for three years and I've always wanted to live in Topanga,” said Banhart. “It's like my home. But really I'm not based anywhere. We're all just based within ourselves.”
Accented by gentle finger-picked acoustic guitar and his high-pitched wavering vocals, Banhart's songs capture a wistful playfulness and an endearing innocence. He first came into the national spotlight after his 2002 recording “Oh Me, Oh My,” brimming with 22 tracks with titles like “Roots (If the Sky Were a Stone),” “Legless Love” and “Lend Me Your Teeth.” The long-haired musician has released an album a year since his debut: 2003's “Rejoicing in the Hand,” 2004's “Niño Rojo” and, most recently, “Cripple Crow” in 2005.
Released on XL Recordings and recorded in Bearsville, N.Y. (just outside of Woodstock), “Cripple Crow” furthers Banhart's Donovan-style mystique with his unique vocals and 1960s folk low-tech approach. The beauty of Banhart's songwriting comes in the psychedelic imagery and simple, stripped down approach to songcraft: “What I do is beyond rudimentary.”
Since he was a kid, Banhart has lived the life of a wanderer. After his birth in Texas, he lived in Venezuela, San Francisco, New York and Paris between traveling and tours. He comes by the wanderlust honestly.
“My mom, I grew up with her,” remembered Banhart. “We would travel and just show up anywhere. The first thing we would do is get lost. She would say, 'Look at something on the horizon and let's walk there.' Basically, we would walk until we were lost, and then we'd walk until we were found. Those were my formative years. Those were my first experiences with travel.”
Despite living the life of a musician and artist, Banhart admits he doesn't really obsess about his art too much.
“I just look at (music) as another form of travel,” said Banhart, who will travel to the Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach tonight. “I can't show up at a venue, look at something on the horizon and get lost because I have to play a show. I look at the music as this field where I'm going to go and totally get lost in. That's a pretty cheesy thing to say, but that's the way I look at it.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Monday, April 24, 2006
The odd couple
Quasi's success is a balancing act – musical and otherwise – for divorced duo
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
April 20, 2006
If Rachmaninoff, Thelonius Monk and the Flaming Lips gathered in a room for a jam session, the results might sound something like Quasi's 2006 album “When the Going Gets Dark.” Big piano chords (Rachmaninoff), atonal melodies (Thelonius) and an outsider pop mentality (Flaming Lips) collide in 11 tracks of beautiful psychedelic cacophony, a sound that has everything to do with the relationship between its two members.
The duo's sound extends from the complicated relationship between Sam Coomes (piano, guitar, bass, vocals) and Janet Weiss (drums, vocals). Weiss – who anchors the drum kit for Portland trio Sleater-Kinney – and the well-traveled Coomes (Elliot Smith, Built to Spill) once were married during the band's early years. Now with the relationship purely professional and friendly (the two divorced in 1995), “Going” was Quasi's seventh album.
Coomes writes almost all of Quasi's songs, but the key to the band's music success lies in the balance between the two personalities. Said Coomes: “I feel like we're fairly equal. We're fairly balanced. We set up opposite each other onstage: Nobody's in front, nobody's in back.”
Despite leaving the difficulties of relationship in their rearview mirrors, recording the new release presented unforeseen obstacles. Coomes and Weiss finished the recording of the album and were pleased with the basic tracks. But the challenge came when they tried to mix the tracks into complete songs.
“Recording the initial tracks – when Janet and I were just sitting in there playing – we were really feeling it,” said Coomes. “We were happy with what we got on tape as far as our performances go. That was why we stuck with it. We knew it was happening at some level. But it really got bogged down along the way. When it was all done, we were kind of relieved that it came out as good as it did.”
The solution came when Quasi decided to send the tracks to Dave Fridmann (Flaming Lips, Café Tacuba), giving him free reign to come up with the final mix: “Eventually, he was able to figure out how it all fit together and sow it all up sonically.”
For the first time in over a decade, Quasi will be performing with an additional musician when the tour stops at San Diego's Casbah club on Kettner Boulevard Monday. Coomes said bassist Joanna Bolme (Stephen Malkmus) will allow the pair to experiment more in the live context.
“We've always been reluctant to add another person, not because of sound reasons but mostly we don't want anybody getting in our way,” said Coomes. “When we play live, we really get off on going out on a limb and really going nuts. So we don't want to be limited. But, actually, with Joanna it helps us to do that more. She can hold down the center and I can go off even more.”
Despite the ups and downs of the music industry and personal relationships, Coomes and Weiss still find their musical connection unique and fulfilling.
“Quasi is intrinsic to our lives,” Coomes said. “Each one of us gets something out of it that wouldn't be easily gotten in a different context. So we're willing to work through whatever difficulties come our way, and we've had more than our share for sure.
“Why do we do this? It's not for money. We just do it because we love it and we get something out of it. If people like it, that's great. And if they don't, we'd still do it anyway.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
April 20, 2006
If Rachmaninoff, Thelonius Monk and the Flaming Lips gathered in a room for a jam session, the results might sound something like Quasi's 2006 album “When the Going Gets Dark.” Big piano chords (Rachmaninoff), atonal melodies (Thelonius) and an outsider pop mentality (Flaming Lips) collide in 11 tracks of beautiful psychedelic cacophony, a sound that has everything to do with the relationship between its two members.
The duo's sound extends from the complicated relationship between Sam Coomes (piano, guitar, bass, vocals) and Janet Weiss (drums, vocals). Weiss – who anchors the drum kit for Portland trio Sleater-Kinney – and the well-traveled Coomes (Elliot Smith, Built to Spill) once were married during the band's early years. Now with the relationship purely professional and friendly (the two divorced in 1995), “Going” was Quasi's seventh album.
Coomes writes almost all of Quasi's songs, but the key to the band's music success lies in the balance between the two personalities. Said Coomes: “I feel like we're fairly equal. We're fairly balanced. We set up opposite each other onstage: Nobody's in front, nobody's in back.”
Despite leaving the difficulties of relationship in their rearview mirrors, recording the new release presented unforeseen obstacles. Coomes and Weiss finished the recording of the album and were pleased with the basic tracks. But the challenge came when they tried to mix the tracks into complete songs.
“Recording the initial tracks – when Janet and I were just sitting in there playing – we were really feeling it,” said Coomes. “We were happy with what we got on tape as far as our performances go. That was why we stuck with it. We knew it was happening at some level. But it really got bogged down along the way. When it was all done, we were kind of relieved that it came out as good as it did.”
The solution came when Quasi decided to send the tracks to Dave Fridmann (Flaming Lips, Café Tacuba), giving him free reign to come up with the final mix: “Eventually, he was able to figure out how it all fit together and sow it all up sonically.”
For the first time in over a decade, Quasi will be performing with an additional musician when the tour stops at San Diego's Casbah club on Kettner Boulevard Monday. Coomes said bassist Joanna Bolme (Stephen Malkmus) will allow the pair to experiment more in the live context.
“We've always been reluctant to add another person, not because of sound reasons but mostly we don't want anybody getting in our way,” said Coomes. “When we play live, we really get off on going out on a limb and really going nuts. So we don't want to be limited. But, actually, with Joanna it helps us to do that more. She can hold down the center and I can go off even more.”
Despite the ups and downs of the music industry and personal relationships, Coomes and Weiss still find their musical connection unique and fulfilling.
“Quasi is intrinsic to our lives,” Coomes said. “Each one of us gets something out of it that wouldn't be easily gotten in a different context. So we're willing to work through whatever difficulties come our way, and we've had more than our share for sure.
“Why do we do this? It's not for money. We just do it because we love it and we get something out of it. If people like it, that's great. And if they don't, we'd still do it anyway.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Umphrey's McGee pushes jam band music forward
Jam band embraces spontaneity, followers
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
April 11, 2006
The words “jam band” evoke a variety of images and stereotypes, both musical and cultural. The bands typically adopt an improvisational style, drawing new fans through word-of-mouth and constant touring. Kids usually follow groups on their tours, creating a traveling subculture.
For Chicago band Umphrey's McGee, acceptance into the jam band lifestyle brought a constant flow of devoted fans.
“I see it as we're part of this community, a really great community that allows us to experiment in our live show,” said percussionist Andy Farag from his home in the Windy City. “People come out and travel from state to state to see us. We embrace (the term jam band). This is how we make a living.”
The music of Umphrey's McGee – with its tendency toward both tight songwriting on studio albums and long jams during live shows – places the sextet at the forefront of the next generation of jam bands (see also Particle and Disco Biscuits). After its humble roots in 1998 in the Midwestern town of South Bend, Ind., the group grew an audience through constant touring.
Learning the music business through touring can leave bands scratching their heads, especially jam bands. Even the most ardent of Grateful Dead fans (affectionately dubbed Deadheads) will admit the legendary group's studio output was uneven and mediocre at best compared with its live shows. Instead of creating material on the spot, Umphrey's McGee was forced to learn the art of studio songwriting.
Umphrey's McGee – Jake Cinninger (guitar), Joel Cummins (keyboards, vocals), Brendan Bayliss (guitar, vocals), Ryan Stasik (bass), Kris Myers (drums, vocals) and Farag (percussion) – released its third studio album recently, titled “Safety in Numbers.” The disc features 11 tracks of prog rock and tight songwriting, with guest appearances by veteran rocker Huey Lewis and touted jazz sax player Joshua Redman.
“Over the past couple of albums we've been working on (writing material to fit the studio format),” admitted Farag. “We realized that we have to be different in our live show and our studio work. I think we did it a little better this time around with 'Safety in Numbers.' In the studio, you have to be short and concise compared to a show. So you have to be mentally prepared to separate those two things.”
Despite the solid collection of tunes on “Safety in Numbers,” the calling card of Umphrey's McGee continues to be its live performances.
“People come see us for the improvs,” said Farag. “We try to write songs on the spot. It's the spontaneity of the experience that keeps people coming back, the freshness of every show. Nobody knows what's going to happen next, not even us onstage.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
April 11, 2006
The words “jam band” evoke a variety of images and stereotypes, both musical and cultural. The bands typically adopt an improvisational style, drawing new fans through word-of-mouth and constant touring. Kids usually follow groups on their tours, creating a traveling subculture.
For Chicago band Umphrey's McGee, acceptance into the jam band lifestyle brought a constant flow of devoted fans.
“I see it as we're part of this community, a really great community that allows us to experiment in our live show,” said percussionist Andy Farag from his home in the Windy City. “People come out and travel from state to state to see us. We embrace (the term jam band). This is how we make a living.”
The music of Umphrey's McGee – with its tendency toward both tight songwriting on studio albums and long jams during live shows – places the sextet at the forefront of the next generation of jam bands (see also Particle and Disco Biscuits). After its humble roots in 1998 in the Midwestern town of South Bend, Ind., the group grew an audience through constant touring.
Learning the music business through touring can leave bands scratching their heads, especially jam bands. Even the most ardent of Grateful Dead fans (affectionately dubbed Deadheads) will admit the legendary group's studio output was uneven and mediocre at best compared with its live shows. Instead of creating material on the spot, Umphrey's McGee was forced to learn the art of studio songwriting.
Umphrey's McGee – Jake Cinninger (guitar), Joel Cummins (keyboards, vocals), Brendan Bayliss (guitar, vocals), Ryan Stasik (bass), Kris Myers (drums, vocals) and Farag (percussion) – released its third studio album recently, titled “Safety in Numbers.” The disc features 11 tracks of prog rock and tight songwriting, with guest appearances by veteran rocker Huey Lewis and touted jazz sax player Joshua Redman.
“Over the past couple of albums we've been working on (writing material to fit the studio format),” admitted Farag. “We realized that we have to be different in our live show and our studio work. I think we did it a little better this time around with 'Safety in Numbers.' In the studio, you have to be short and concise compared to a show. So you have to be mentally prepared to separate those two things.”
Despite the solid collection of tunes on “Safety in Numbers,” the calling card of Umphrey's McGee continues to be its live performances.
“People come see us for the improvs,” said Farag. “We try to write songs on the spot. It's the spontaneity of the experience that keeps people coming back, the freshness of every show. Nobody knows what's going to happen next, not even us onstage.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Monday, April 10, 2006
Jamie Lidell in N&D
Lidell's music draws from a wide range of styles
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
April 10, 2006
Bubblegum Motown. Parliament's space funk. 1980s R&B crooners. Dance-floor electronica. From a dusty Southern shack to the flashy discos of New York City, funk and soul shifts to fit the times.
Amazingly, a 32-year-old English native turned German resident captures the spectrum of soul all on one album, skipping easily from classic Marvin Gaye-inspired soul songs to dance tracks informed by modern club music.
Meet Jamie Lidell. His 2005 release “Multiply” effortlessly encapsulates the history of soul and funk in his sprawling set of 10 tunes. Lidell cites funk and soul as inspirations, but also “noise, jazz, blues, techno, house, glam, dirtcore, unterbeat, the big ole pop, the lesser known pitch touch, rock 'n' rules, the hop, the fug, all that.”
From the subtle soul of “Games of Fools” (in which Lidell sounds like a young Sam Cooke) to the Rick James-esque “When I Come Around” (complete with hand claps and 1980s keyboards), the disc covers a dizzying array of song styles but manages to hold to together as a complete whole.
“Either I must have many sides or no core or just a lot of shades to my shadow,” mused Lidell from his home in Berlin.
The recording process for “Multiply” took the multi-instrumentalist three years, with sessions taking place mostly at his home studio. Lidell worked primarily with producer-musician-DJ Mocky (aka Dominic Salole), along with an occasional live drummer to fill out the sound.
“It unfolded like a book: one of those fat phone books,” said Lidell about the process behind “Multiply.” “The studio is a weird place for me, but I try to let out what's brewing. I see it as a form of sonic sweat. Sometimes it'll smell sweet, sometimes funky – but it's gotta come out when it gets hot.”
In his solo live shows, Liddell utilizes technology to layer his vocals and keyboard parts. But don't expect him to hide behind a laptop when he starts his latest American tour tonight in San Diego. A Jamie Lidell concert is singing, dancing and performance art all wrapped into one: “When I play live, I try and just let the music flood out like tea from a bag.”
When asked about the Casbah gig, Lidell said, “I will attempt to stop time. It's a risky game, but if you wanna be there, we could make it last forever.”
Enough said.
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
April 10, 2006
Bubblegum Motown. Parliament's space funk. 1980s R&B crooners. Dance-floor electronica. From a dusty Southern shack to the flashy discos of New York City, funk and soul shifts to fit the times.
Amazingly, a 32-year-old English native turned German resident captures the spectrum of soul all on one album, skipping easily from classic Marvin Gaye-inspired soul songs to dance tracks informed by modern club music.
Meet Jamie Lidell. His 2005 release “Multiply” effortlessly encapsulates the history of soul and funk in his sprawling set of 10 tunes. Lidell cites funk and soul as inspirations, but also “noise, jazz, blues, techno, house, glam, dirtcore, unterbeat, the big ole pop, the lesser known pitch touch, rock 'n' rules, the hop, the fug, all that.”
From the subtle soul of “Games of Fools” (in which Lidell sounds like a young Sam Cooke) to the Rick James-esque “When I Come Around” (complete with hand claps and 1980s keyboards), the disc covers a dizzying array of song styles but manages to hold to together as a complete whole.
“Either I must have many sides or no core or just a lot of shades to my shadow,” mused Lidell from his home in Berlin.
The recording process for “Multiply” took the multi-instrumentalist three years, with sessions taking place mostly at his home studio. Lidell worked primarily with producer-musician-DJ Mocky (aka Dominic Salole), along with an occasional live drummer to fill out the sound.
“It unfolded like a book: one of those fat phone books,” said Lidell about the process behind “Multiply.” “The studio is a weird place for me, but I try to let out what's brewing. I see it as a form of sonic sweat. Sometimes it'll smell sweet, sometimes funky – but it's gotta come out when it gets hot.”
In his solo live shows, Liddell utilizes technology to layer his vocals and keyboard parts. But don't expect him to hide behind a laptop when he starts his latest American tour tonight in San Diego. A Jamie Lidell concert is singing, dancing and performance art all wrapped into one: “When I play live, I try and just let the music flood out like tea from a bag.”
When asked about the Casbah gig, Lidell said, “I will attempt to stop time. It's a risky game, but if you wanna be there, we could make it last forever.”
Enough said.
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Sia Furler in Night&Day
'Six Feet' gave her work yards of exposure
By Chris Nixon
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
March 30, 2006
As more high-profile television shows like “The O.C.” adopt music-video stylings with glossy montages and artsy cinematography, television soundtracks provide the perfect conduit for musicians to access larger audiences. Australian-born vocalist Sia Furler experienced firsthand the dramatic effect TV can have on a music career. Featured during the closing scene of “Six Feet Under's” final show, her song “Breathe Me” immediately rocketed into public consciousness.
“I approved usage of the song, but I had no idea in what context,” said Furler from Los Angeles where she was rehearsing her band for a tour starting in San Diego Saturday. “I woke one morning and went to the computer; I had about 15 e-mails from all my American friends basically filled with expletives and exclamation points. Everyone was watching the final heartbreaking montage and it was my song as the soundtrack. I was pretty excited, obviously. Within a couple of days, the song had gone to No. 4 on Amazon.com.”
Originally featured on Sia's 2004 UK album “Colour the Small One,” the song hadn't caused much of a stir with fans or critics until its appearance on “Six Feet Under.” Punctuated by Furler's soulful, intimate vocals and subtle downtempo electronic pop, the song's sweet sincerity struck a chord with viewers and gave the album a new life.
But Furler (who records under her first name) experienced the fickle nature of success in the music industry. Born in Adelaide, Australia, she jammed in funk and soul bands, honing her skills as a vocalist before moving to London. There, she hooked up with an inexperienced manager who helped her sign a deal that, she said, hurt her development as an artist: “He signed me to a pretty crummy record deal. I really didn't know anything about it. I was fine as long as I could pay my phone bill and my electricity bill.”
The record deal yielded one hit in the United Kingdom, “Taken for Granted,” but her debut album, “Healing Is Difficult,” was slow to hit shelves in stores. Interest in it fizzled.
Meanwhile, producers Henry Binns and Sam Hardaker of Zero 7 heard her tapes and asked her to participate in the band's debut disc, “Simple Things.” She also will sing on Zero 7's upcoming release “The Garden.” She toured with Zero 7 (along with Tina Dico, who performed here a few weeks ago at the Casbah), but her solo career stood at a standstill until “Six Feet Under” came along.
“Colour the Small One” just saw a release in the United States with her new label Astralwerks. Needless to say, Furler is excited about touring with her top-notch group.
“I hope they're my band forever, although I imagine they won't be because they're so good,” said Furler, whose band includes drummer Joey Waronker, guitarist Guy Seyffert, keyboardist Joseph John Kennedy, bassist Sam Dixon and cellist Ollie Kraus. “I'm sure they'll outgrow me or I won't be able to afford them at some stage.”
She's particularly happy with Waronker (R.E.M., Smashing Pumpkins, Beck) taking a seat behind the drum kit: “He's actually a producer these days, but he's doing me a favor by going out on tour with me. He's so engaging to watch and so tasty and beautiful in his playing.”
Despite her recent success, Furler refuses to get a big head about it all.
“I'm a little nervous because I know that 'Breathe Me' is definitely the best song on the album so it can only go downhill from here,” said Furler, a bit scarred from her previous encounters with the music industry. “They're probably going to choose 'Numb,' because we already have a video for it and they seem to think it will work well in the American market. I prefer 'Sunday,' but I guess one of the things I've learned is to let people get on with their business. Sometimes, you don't have to be in control. Sometimes, they do know better.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
March 30, 2006
As more high-profile television shows like “The O.C.” adopt music-video stylings with glossy montages and artsy cinematography, television soundtracks provide the perfect conduit for musicians to access larger audiences. Australian-born vocalist Sia Furler experienced firsthand the dramatic effect TV can have on a music career. Featured during the closing scene of “Six Feet Under's” final show, her song “Breathe Me” immediately rocketed into public consciousness.
“I approved usage of the song, but I had no idea in what context,” said Furler from Los Angeles where she was rehearsing her band for a tour starting in San Diego Saturday. “I woke one morning and went to the computer; I had about 15 e-mails from all my American friends basically filled with expletives and exclamation points. Everyone was watching the final heartbreaking montage and it was my song as the soundtrack. I was pretty excited, obviously. Within a couple of days, the song had gone to No. 4 on Amazon.com.”
Originally featured on Sia's 2004 UK album “Colour the Small One,” the song hadn't caused much of a stir with fans or critics until its appearance on “Six Feet Under.” Punctuated by Furler's soulful, intimate vocals and subtle downtempo electronic pop, the song's sweet sincerity struck a chord with viewers and gave the album a new life.
But Furler (who records under her first name) experienced the fickle nature of success in the music industry. Born in Adelaide, Australia, she jammed in funk and soul bands, honing her skills as a vocalist before moving to London. There, she hooked up with an inexperienced manager who helped her sign a deal that, she said, hurt her development as an artist: “He signed me to a pretty crummy record deal. I really didn't know anything about it. I was fine as long as I could pay my phone bill and my electricity bill.”
The record deal yielded one hit in the United Kingdom, “Taken for Granted,” but her debut album, “Healing Is Difficult,” was slow to hit shelves in stores. Interest in it fizzled.
Meanwhile, producers Henry Binns and Sam Hardaker of Zero 7 heard her tapes and asked her to participate in the band's debut disc, “Simple Things.” She also will sing on Zero 7's upcoming release “The Garden.” She toured with Zero 7 (along with Tina Dico, who performed here a few weeks ago at the Casbah), but her solo career stood at a standstill until “Six Feet Under” came along.
“Colour the Small One” just saw a release in the United States with her new label Astralwerks. Needless to say, Furler is excited about touring with her top-notch group.
“I hope they're my band forever, although I imagine they won't be because they're so good,” said Furler, whose band includes drummer Joey Waronker, guitarist Guy Seyffert, keyboardist Joseph John Kennedy, bassist Sam Dixon and cellist Ollie Kraus. “I'm sure they'll outgrow me or I won't be able to afford them at some stage.”
She's particularly happy with Waronker (R.E.M., Smashing Pumpkins, Beck) taking a seat behind the drum kit: “He's actually a producer these days, but he's doing me a favor by going out on tour with me. He's so engaging to watch and so tasty and beautiful in his playing.”
Despite her recent success, Furler refuses to get a big head about it all.
“I'm a little nervous because I know that 'Breathe Me' is definitely the best song on the album so it can only go downhill from here,” said Furler, a bit scarred from her previous encounters with the music industry. “They're probably going to choose 'Numb,' because we already have a video for it and they seem to think it will work well in the American market. I prefer 'Sunday,' but I guess one of the things I've learned is to let people get on with their business. Sometimes, you don't have to be in control. Sometimes, they do know better.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
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