Club Shutter – Elbo Room 05/27/09

So I put some finishing touches on a new song, put on my super skinny new Levis and my black shirt and jacket

with a Jackscrew on the back and found him hanging around outside the Elbo Room scaring off a couple girls who’s names he got mixed up. He was really excited about his new record deal and was totally undaunted. The tall blond moved off in her stilettos and black eye makeup.

We moved over to some new girls, who were a little busy with their long cigarettes and some guys of their own and I just wanted a drink so I went inside and ordered a Laphroig . My other buddy, the drummer who also signed today got a Dark and Stormy and we sat at the bar and talked about recording techniques. Gothic characters surrounded us and looked bored and contemptible. They were having a neutral good time with nary a frown or a smile. Tears were painted on the pretty girl’s faces. Strains of Joy Division were wafting down the stairs from the club.

We exhausted the technical convo and went upstairs to a different scene all-together. It was difficult to see anything in that dark room full of darkly dressed living zombies. Seriously beautiful and disturbed people everywhere. They were slightly moving around to the music, in pairs, which seemed a little strange – and nice – and it made it a little easier not to bump into someone.

The music was all dark 80s Baritones like Joy Division, Sisters of Mercy and Bauhaus singing about death, as if they knew what they were talking about. The whole Factory Records catalogue is represented and more. There were a few striking blonds to change things up from all the black bangs and corsets. It seemed like a clique, like a strange high school inTransylvania.

I just stood there with my Scotch and listened to the great sound system and the great, dusty old tunes. It brought me back to my high school when KROQ in LA was still valiantly playing the edgy new stuff.

Here is what they say on their Myspace page, “A monthly social club for the dark and dark at heart that meets on the last Wednesday of the month. We like to drink and dance and we like to wear lots of black in a fashionable manner.” True dat.

I drunk dialled my ex and walked back up the lonely hill.

Pretty nice night if you handle the locals only kind of vibe, or if you can get past all the heartbreaking defenses and break into it.

Club Shutter turns 5 in late June. Look for an anniversary party.

May 28, 2009 | Categories: Reviews | Leave A Comment »

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Thee Oh Sees, Shannon & the Clams, Sonny & the Sunsets, The Mystery Lights – Amnesia 5/16/09

Thee Oh Sees, Shannon & the Clams, Sonny & the Sunsets, The Mystery Lights

The baby bird we found in Dolores park was fed and put to bed, I’d had a couple of Finlaggens (a very good buy in Islay single malt Scotch at Trader Joes), there wasn’t anything automatic to do any more with the gf gone, I still had a hangover from Monte Carlo night at City Hall the night before and I’d been hearing about Thee Oh Sees for a couple of weeks now. Anybody that I trusted was giving them the thumbs up and they were playing at Amnesia which is just down the street and an easy stumble home. The hill is a little daunting but it’s good exercise to start the process of burning it off.

I got dropped off in Theo the Geo, after honking at all the guys in the Castro and almost dying blazing down 18th ignoring all local traffic laws – I guess this is legal somewhere in the World – and walked by the place looking for a taco or two. Is that Patty Smith singing Gloria? Sure sounds like her, pretty impressive in fact, but it’s Gloria and I don’t think I can hear those six letters just one more time, plus I have a mean hunger and I need to soak up some of that Scotch, before I add some more.

There are no taquerias on Valencia between 18th and 20th. Take a note. Sounds like a good business plan, because I couldn’t see myself going into the bogus Burger Joint, I don’t care how hungry.

Fuggit. Maybe I just need a beer.

Out of cash, I snuck around the line and went straight to the ATM. Dude, I’m sorry. I go to enough of these shows and support a lot of local music. Some day I’ll be able to write it all off, but in the meantime getting a beer is more important that appeasing the doorman, and my guilt.

The Patty Smith band was still on, sans Patty, and one of the guitar players was taking over at the mic. I think they were the Mystery Lights, a very capable, high energy band of four, I think, all of which looked way too young to drink, or drive a car. They probably took the bus to get here and they were pretty awesome. They have a ways to go in the professionalism department, but they’ll get there and will surely impress. Most of the deficiencies, to be quite honest, come from the sound guys who almost invariably adds too much echo to the vocals. Guys, why add any? These tiny places have enough built in echo as it is.

And it turns out I was seated right next to an old friend at the bar. It’s nice to see old friends especially ones that are still so nice, and lovely and have every right to blow you off if they want because they’re there with their boyfriends. We talked about birds, and bands. Thee Oh Sees were her favorite. I told her about Entrance. Once, I accidentally flicked a cigarette butt at a pigeon right in front of her. Apparently, pigeons are her favorite bird because everyone else hates ‘em. She’s made whole art exhibitions based on pigeons. To her I was just another pigeon hater. I told her about Dolores. Not a pigeon, but a beautiful bird nonetheless. I actually love all birds, tiny dinosaurs, but not everybody knows that.

Ran into another friend, Conner, bass player from an old band of mine. He’s still in lots of different projects and he was talking to the bartender, who I had an eye on. I always have an eye on the bartender. What’s up with that? Is it something like mother’s milk? Ew, that’s kinda gross, sorry. We played in this band right here, The Ferocious Few, who are still together and starting to make some noise, but as a two piece because Francisco couldn’t handle all the noise and not having complete control. Typica Diva. Dammit if the music suffers.

Next up, Sonny and the Sunsets. I didn’t have to keep the toilet paper in my ears for these guys because they were relatively benign. Which is another way of saying that people were visibly bored after about fifteen minutes. The singer was workmanlike, but uninspired. What saved them, almost, were the brilliant guitar and bass tones. Some kind of acoustic blues guitar with a magnetic pickup (thank god, I hate those built in piezos) and the bass was something on the acoustic side of things too. Had a nice twang. Sometimes that’s enough. Add some more impressive vocals and you might have something there.

Shannon, of Shannon and the clams, was sick and she was afraid of puking on her apron. She still had the lungs, though, and the sixties crazy vibe, but again the fucked up echo on the vocals. Sometimes you only need to hear a word once. You don’t need to hear it echoed ten times, no matter how good it is. Add the guitarists echo and you have cacophony. Still, the last two songs were quite brilliant. I wish I had a notepad to jot down the names. Shannon’s got pipes. I’d like to hear her when she’s well.

I don’t have a huge anticipation of greatness when Thee Oh Sees take the stage, but it’s size-able enough and they’ll have to impress only slightly to get on my good side. It starts out fair enough, a bit more simply than I was prepared for, there wasn’t a bass, which I missed at first until the second guitar guy held down a lot of the low end because main guy, John Dwyer (?) was wrangling a highly played, highly timbered 12 string, but then the energy took over, driven in the main by the amazing drummer. Listen to that! It’s the drummer. Has anyone noticed that? It’s always someone. Sometimes the drummer is solid and workmanlike. Sometimes the Bass player just gets it done. Sometimes nobody steps it up. Thee Oh Sees all shine, but it’s the drummer, man, that kicks ‘em into gear. And he makes everyone else better. Dwyer gets into that infectious groove and runs with it. Everyone else runs with it too, including the entire front half of the room who are the biggest mosh scene I’ve ever seen at such an unlikely, almost folksy, event. It’s practically Apalachian, though there will be some dissent about that for sure, and everybody is dancing as if it’s a Black Flag concert, albeit a little more courteous. Good times. Good music. That’s what it’s all about.

I looked around after the short encore for my friends or for any new ones, but they’d all gone. The tall blonde I kept getting pushed into gave me a funny look, down her nose. The bartender ignored me. People were paring off and I was sheepishly alone, but feeling good. Music has the power to heal, is the apt cliche. I was pretty much healed.

I walked by her house just to compare it with last week and to measure the extent of that healing. I hoped she was having a good time wherever she was. I hoped she had at least as good a time as I had tonight. Still, the lights were off, I hoped that she was alone, and fast asleep. God only knows (God being a Pantheistic everything, not to be confused with any other God, thank you very much.)

P.S. There’s a great poem in the current New Yorker about love and everything and Spring and birds. Apt to music just as much as anything, btw. Cheers and good listening. Have a great spring.

May 16, 2009 | Categories: Reviews | 2 Comments »

Jonas Reinhardt, Bronze, Dzjenghis Khan, Magik Daggers – Amnesia 5/9/9

Magik Daggers were playing when I got there. There was a sequined-out singer that sounded a bit like Karen O, but there was no guitar so it was hard for me to comprehend.

That’s just the way I am. Guitar pierces through and soars in a way that keyboards can’t. Keys are often annoying. But I stuck toilet paper in my ears and they kind of grew on me.

Next up, the raucous power trio and aptly named, Dzjenghis Khan. They looked like troubled beer drinkers from the central valley, but they took a meticulously long time setting up and then they unfurled their hair and their buttrock powerchords and all the laptoppers headed for the exit, but these guys ruled. Cliche 70s style shredding guitar solos, shirtless head banging skull and crossbone belt buckled good times. And these three guys were on it! Made me almost forget I just lost my girlfriend and she was probably out with some other guy and laughing perversely. Almost. I downed a couple of Sudwerks, bobbed my head and got a look at the talent. There really wasn’t any.

Bronze was all set up in the back with their new 7″. There were two versions. The ten dollar clear vinyl and the $20 with the copper plate cover. It weighed a ton and was hand stamped with the word Bronze, even tho it was copper. I told them they should make the record out of bronze. Apparently other people had made the same suggestion because I got a rote response. Nice guys. Newbie record label types with a strange name. I kept lifting the record to see if it was real.

Bronze came next. There was some ambiguous visuals, some canned bass tracks, a guy in a suit singing something like Joy Division, and a dude in an avant garde getup and a gizmo with a knob.

It made a neat sound, but it was the same for every song. Reminded me a bit of Spectrum in that each song had this one sound. For Spectrum it was just a spacey phaser that cruised throughout. Dumb. This was a little more creative in that avant garde guy was actually playing it. They were pretty cool, though. I was in a really bad mood so it’s impossible to be fair. The fact that I don’t say they outright sucked is probably some sort of testament. Where the hell was my girlfriend?

Jonas Reinhardt finally set up all his keyboards.

There was a bunch of fog and wafting moody pad sounds and I headed for the door. I walked up my ex gfs street just to get a closer vibe. Her lights were on and I got it all out of my system. It took me about an hour to drag myself up the hill to my place on Twin Peaks. The streets were wet with the fog and tears of my nostalgia. But I went to bed and awoke with a renewed purpose. It’s time to meet some new people, see more bands, have good times, and maybe watch a little BSG on her couch. Why not?

May 12, 2009 | Categories: Reviews | Leave A Comment »

Spectrum, Entrance Band – Great American Music Hall – 05/07/09

Breaking up is a bitch.

You walk around in a foggy daze wondering where you’ve gone wrong in your life. It seems pointless. All the toil, all the tribulations, all the brackish detritus of wasted opportunites.

And then The Entrance Band plays and brings a wonderous tear to you eye…

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On the other hand, I’ve never been more bored watching Spectrum than the last time I was dead. I promised myself to stay for at least three songs but could only make it through 1 1/2. Not my thing. I saw yawns. I got in my white Hearse and went to Hemlock. Sorry guys, step it up.

May 8, 2009 | Categories: Reviews | Leave A Comment »

Headshear, Hotel Utah, 04/11/09

“What a Wonderful World” or “15 Steps, then a shear drop”? Sometimes it’s just a matter of inches. We’re all thrown up here on this World, like it or not, to fend for ourselves and are all subsequently struggling to figure out why and what for. Sometimes we think we’ve grasped the reason, in a rainbow or a flying bird or the light in someone’s eye, and the next day it’s all hell again. The wounded animal gets hungry or cornered and fears for it’s very life.

And then there’s good music that brings everything disparate together.

When you just can’t reconcile your beautiful humanity with the mechanistic qualities of mortal existence you need Headshear. That means you…grasshopper.

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Decide for yourself. Here’s the whole show captured in Binaural stereo.

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Like those middle year monochromatic King Crimson albums Discipline, Three of a Perfect Pair, and Beat, but without the vocals, Headshear dominate the barren prog landscape. Outstanding chops, ambitious composition and obvious dedication make this foursome something to behold. Their virtuosity is not often seen in a little club like this, but it’s magic when it happens. People tend to value mundane things like melody and witty lyrics from a cute lead singer. Headshear has none of that, so it’s not for everyone. But go see Heashear if you want to expand your head and get a broader perspective on the possibilities of music.

They play Thursday, May 7th (2009) at Kimos.

Go to Headshear on Myspace.

May 1, 2009 | Categories: Reviews | Leave A Comment »