PLAYBACK St. Louis Pop Culture

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MIKE DOUGHTY, BOBBIE LAUTENSCHLAGER, THE ELECTRIC•REVIEWS: THE FRAMES, MASON JENNINGS, NIGHT TRAIN TO NASHVILLE, THE URGE, ANI DiFRANCO, JAPANESE STORY, VERNON GOD LITTLE • FIVE QUICK QUESTIONS WITH DAVEY BOHLEN OF MARITIME • FROM THE CORNER • WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?

RUFUS WAIN WRIGHT LOVE IS OTHER PEOPLE

LE U D E H C S Y R A U FEBR

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february 2004

PLAYBACK– TALK

For Such a Short Month... ...February’s awfully cold. And it’s one day longer this year. But look on the bright side: the days are getting longer, and spring is just the next page of the calendar.

Besides, this is St. Louis, the home of bursts of spring throughout the winter (such as that 50-degree day in late January; it was downright balmy!). We can survive.

If you’re looking for ways to get through the winter, look no further. The Lou has a ton of shows and events this month (even if the Americas Center’s Home Show isn’t quite your style). For example, we’re pleased to bring you an interview with the thoughtful and thought-provoking Rufus Wainwright, who will be visiting the Pageant on the 22nd. More into indie rock? The Rocket Bar’s hosting Maritime (Take Five, page 28) on the 4th. If you want something a little grittier, check out Mike Doughty (profiled on page 3) at Mississippi Nights the 28th or city’s very own The Electric (profiled on page 5), playing around town in connection with the release of their first full-length (Degenerotic Doses, Pro-Vel Records) later this month.

You’ll want to check out our reviews of films opening this month, including two recommended by our critics: Japanese Story and The Statement. And don’t overlook the wealth of theater and art in St. Louis; watch for updates on our weekly online events page. (Not on our e-list? Send an e-mail to contact@playbackstl.com to sign up!)

As always, please continue to send us your ideas, suggestions, and reactions. Send your feedback to contact@playbackstl.com.

Playback St. Louis: Get used to it.

Stylin’ String Quartet I was gratified, I guess, maybe, to see mention in Joshua Cox’s column last month [“Schmidt’s Picks: A Look at New Art in St. Louis Since 1990,” January], albeit not by name, of the mezzanine string quartet, which played at the opening of “Schmidt’s Picks” at the Philip Slein Gallery in December. (Interesting, I suppose, that Cox never gets around to mentioning who “Schmidt” is or why his “picks” should matter.)

I doubt that anyone who walked by us in the lobby and listened for even 30 seconds would have found us “pretentious,” or even “stylish”—well, okay, maybe stylish, but in a good way, y’know? Not everything we play, by a long shot, is Baroque or classical, and our very name, “mezzanine” (with a lowercase “m”), is intended to suggest that we play in an open, relaxed style—maybe a little off-tempo, somewhere in the middle, wherever that is—so that the music, in all its nuance, is completely accessible even to the casual listener. We think our “street cred” is very St. Louis, not New York or Chicago “elitist.”

(Actually, we don’t think about “street cred” at all. We just enjoy playing.)

I have been an avid reader of Playback since its inception, and of its predecessors. I listen to Radiohead, Puerto Muerto, King Crimson (oops—is that “elitist?”), and also a lot of olderschool stuff that gets no press in your publication. And I play violin in a string quartet. I hope that is okay with Joshua Cox. I actually don’t read Wallpaper, whatever that is. I hope I am not missing anything.

We enjoyed playing the Slein opening, and we were not in the least put off by the fact that Slein has an iMac on his desk. He probably thinks, maybe correctly, that it is superior to a PC clone.

The mezzanine string quartet is available to play other gallery openings, b’nai mitzvahs, private parties, etc.

—R. Willis Second violin mezzanine string quartet

Romancing the Chemicals I just thought I would like to tell you how comical I find your article [Rob Levy’s review of My Chemical Romance, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, www.playbackstl.com]. It is the most one-sided review that I have ever read. Just because you yourself do not like it, that is no reason to give the band such a terrible name. Such rare mixes of talent and timing that make up My Chemical Romance are extremely rare and hard to come by. Please, the next time you are reviewing an album, think about everyone out there, for the world is not encompassed around you.

—Thomas Wilkinson via e-mail

Photographer Courts Reviewer Rachel McCalla, I don’t know who you are but think that I may be in love with you. You seem intelligent, insightful, and are obviously a beautiful person. Thanks.

—Bob Reuter Photographer Portraits Along the River: Working in the City of St. Louis (by Thomas Crone)

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Contents

Playback St. Louis Pop Culture

Playback-Talk ................ 1 Profile

Mike Doughty..........................................3 Bobbie Lautenschlager ..............................4 The Electric .............................................5

Play by Play .................. 7 The Frames, Bingo, Mason Jennings, Mark Lanegan, Love of Everything, Rapider Than Horsepower, Raekwon, Say Hi to Your Mom, Britta Phillips/Dean Wareham, John Vanderslice, Night Train to Nashville

Quick Hits.................... 12 Air, Andy Conrad, Crystal Method, Dead Celebrities vs. The Trip Daddys, Edward James Richard, The Spiders

Backstage Pass............ 14

You Are Here

Dmitry Gelfand and Evelina Domnitch ..... 24 Strolling Down Memory Lane.................. 25

Publisher Two Weasels Press LLC

Curmudgeon ................ 26

Managing Editor Laura Hamlett

Take Five ...................... 28

Associate Editor/Art Director Jim Dunn

Davey Von Bohlen of Maritime

Elliot Goes.................. 28 Local Scenery ............. 30 Page by Page................ 32 DBC Pierre, Andy Greenwald, 33-1/3

What’s Going on Here? 34

Yun-Fei Ji: The Empty City, Mississippi Mudd, Big Head Todd and the Monsters, Ladysmith Black Mambazo, Volcano, I’m Still Excited!!

Ani DiFranco, The Urge, Raphael Saadiq, Fighting Jacks

Three to See ................ 16 Cover Story................. 18

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Contributing Editor Bryan A. Hollerbach Book Editor Stephen Schenkenberg Theater Editor Bobby Kirk Contributing Writers J. Church, Joshua Cox, Tim Doyle, Jim Dunn, Andrew Friedman, Jessica Gluckman, Laura Hamlett, Bryan A. Hollerbach, Bobby Kirk, John Kujawski, Rob Levy, David Lichius, Rachel McCalla, Brian McClelland, Sean Moeller, Angela Pancella, Kevin Renick, Stephen Schenkenberg, Jeremy Segel-Moss, Kelly Spencer, Lisa Tebbe, Michele Ulsohn, Taylor Upchurch, Rudy Zapf

Rufus Wainwright

Contributing Photographers J. Church, Jim Dunn

Now Playing

Intern Anne Valente

Cinema: Japanese Story, The Company, The Statement ....................................... 20 DVD: U.K. Subs .................................... 31

Advertising Sales Jim Dunn • 314-630-6404

From the Corner ......... 23

Printing by The Printing Source Tim Lyons • 636-343-6400

Mental Sewage ............ 23

Distribution Two Weasels Press LLC

Cover Photo by Yelena Yemchuck

ELLIOT GOES, page 28

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PBSTL PROFILE MIKE DOUGHTY

By Jim Dunn ike Doughty has this tattoo of Louise Brooks on his upper arm. It is an odd, beautiful symbol that provides a fitting allusion to the man himself. He said, “She just created this beautiful thing, and then she abandoned it. She created that icon, then she was never that again—sort of a pure icon. When you talk about Louise Brooks, you are not talking about the woman, but the pure icon she created. The pictures of her are beautiful, but if you see her movement, that is really beautiful. She brought an incredible sense of elegance to her movement.” What is important? Happiness, affirmation, or success? Doughty had success in the ’90s and lots of affirmation. As lead singer and songwriter for Soul Coughing, he had three wellreceived albums and the respect and attention of the alt-rock community. When I asked him what was good about it, he replied with a laugh, “That it ended.”

There is a lovely, Zen-like quality to Doughty that I doubt was there six years ago at the height of Soul Coughing. The here and now is what’s important; the then and past are best left in the past. So we proceed to the present, where, four years after Soul Coughing’s divorce, Doughty is touring, playing mostly material that is very un–Soul Coughing and very Doughty. That may seem a contradiction, due to the intense amount of Doughty that went into the Soul Coughing lyric bin. However, the Doughty that emerged in 2000 was one who merely wanted to do what he loved best: write songs. In 2003, he shied away from the celebrity, craving only an office with a coffee maker, a guitar, and a notebook. “A different space to work in,” he explained. “Being a songwriter, you spend so much time trapped in your own head. I think it would be interesting to have a wall between the place where you work and the place where you rest. I think you need that division in your life.”

It took him some time to shake off the trappings of his earlier rock stardom and get on with his career. Salvation came in the form of songs he had recorded in 1996: songs with a strippeddown sound, freeing him to express deeper feelings than those he’d feigned in the very happy appearance that was Soul Coughing. The disc was shelved, but not before Doughty made a

few tapes for friends. After the band’s breakup, Doughty found himself playing to appreciative audiences as a solo artist. “I would look out and there would be people singing along to the songs and requesting these tunes that were not available [except on Napster]. It completely blew my mind. So I dusted [the disc] off and put it out.” Skittish, sold primarily at shows and on Doughty’s Web site (superspecialquestions.co m), is one of those rare recordings that offers unrefined emotion and excitement. It has since sold more than 15,000 copies.

The last four years have seen Doughty more productive than ever. Following Skittish, he released an EP last year (Rockity Roll), as well as a live disk (Smofe + Smang: Live In Minneapolis) in 2002. Last year, he also contributed several songs to the independent movie EvenHand.

Additionally, Doughty published a collection of poetry called Slanky (Soft Skull Press).

He has recently been working with Dan Wilson (Semisonic), who is producing his new album. Doughty, ever cagey, would reveal little about the project except that it would contain many of the songs that he has been road-testing in the clubs over the last few years, including “Madeline,” “Looking at the World From the Bottom of a Well,” “White Lexus,” and “Unsingable Name.” Though the disc is rumored to be coming out later this summer or fall, when pressed for details, he responded cryptically, “Yeah, I’m working on it. Doing the dues, having some lunches, talking to people.” How, then, did he meet Wilson? “ had known Dan throug his manager, who ha suggested that perha we write some son together. I flew out th and we spent a few writing songs. I just the demo of the material we wrote. I just love his angle on it and the way he does arrangements, the way he thinks and works. I just realized that I had gone looking for a co-writer, and I found a producer…a collaborator.”

It is onstage, though, where Doughty truly comes alive. I pointed out that his between- (and often during-) song patter is some of the best I’ve heard. “I think that is what the audience comes to the show wanting,” he said, “your voice outside of the context of a song. It is another way to draw them in to the show.” And drawing them in is exactly what he does with what he calls jokingly “small rock.” Doughty has taken his guitar and songs across the U.S. many times and has built up an extraordinary bond with his audience. “It is a very soulful crowd that I have, but they are not obsessed with their own soulfulness, which is great. It’s not Creed’s audience,” he said with a laugh. “That’s not small rock. That is large rock.”

Onstage, he seems like a person who needs no affirmation (though in one performance he was heard to yell out, if only jokingly, “I want my Grammy”). Doughty chuckles at the memory and, perhaps, the thought that affirmation is the furthest thought from his mind. “I don’t think that is true. I think anybody who walks on a stage, gets in front of a microphone, or picks up an instrument, pretty much anybody who is involved in performance wants attention and wants affirmation. As we get older as artists and mature in our craft, you sort of distance yourself from it, at least I have, but ultimately it is based on hearing someone say, ‘Hey, you’re OK, you’re great, you have resonated in my world.’ The hat I have learned is that, no matter uccessful I get or how big or small my d is, there is always somebody who is g better, and there is always somebody is doing worse. I know some guys that experiencing some real mainstream cess that seems just monstrous and erwhelming to me, and when you talk them, it is not quite good enough. I uess the answer is that I don’t know. I guess when I find that thing that really affirms me, I will be psyched. For now, to have a little Zen on the topic and realize that nothing can make you OK. You gotta love yourself and find satisfaction in yourself.”

And get that coffeemaker in the office.

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PBSTL PROFILE BOBBIE LAUTENSCHLAGER

ACCESSING Bobbie Lautenschlager By Bobby Kirk Known as the Godmother of St. Louis Independent Film, Roberta “Bobbie” Lautenschlager has championed the works of local filmmakers throughout the last decade.

A fixture in both the production and presentation communities, Bobbie has taken a long road to find her niche in the film world. Part of Lautenschlager’s title as godmother is due to her age. Probably in her late 50s, she stands out among the independent film crowd, an arena dominated by young men. Her age may distinguish her, but it is her work that defines her. A tireless woman, she flits about the office of her day job at a Lutheran church in Soulard, tying up loose ends before leaving for the Sundance Film Festival early the next morning. Although she is constantly sorting papers, making notes, and filing weekly church programs, she continues the interview with little prompting, speaking at length about film, production, and her life. Her energy is infinite, and after spending a few hours with the former missionary, one is either drained completely or fully energized by the experience.

Bobbie started her journey into the film world as a nurse. With her husband, Dr. John Lautenschlager, she left her home for Nigeria in 1971. As medical missionaries for the Lutheran Church, the Lautenschlagers took their two children and headed to a country trying to dig out from under a recently ended civil war. After lending their medical skills to the rebuilding nation for the next 18 years, the Lautenschlagers returned to the United States and settled in St. Louis to finish raising their family.

In a roundabout way, this African adventure lead to Bobbie’s interest in film. While in Niger, Bobbie discovered the story of Mungo Park, the Scottish explorer who first mapped the Niger River. Mungo’s trek so touched Bobbie, she “felt I had to tell the story.” Not feeling the call to be a novelist, she wrote a screenplay originally titled Joliba (it now goes by River of Sorrow). But writing the screenplay wasn’t enough; she wanted to make the movie. “I knew I had to understand the business,” Bobbie recalls. “I had to learn the language. Africa was about learning a new culture; production was about learning a subculture.” To learn that language, Lautenschlager subscribed to industry magazines Variety and Hollywood Reporter and took an opportunity to see Oscarnominated director John Singleton speak at Washington University. What struck her most, Bobbie relates, was something Singleton said: “He’d gotten where he was by volunteering.”

Which is exactly what she did. She started by helping young film students on various projects, both as an actress and behind the camera.

“But the cost is worth the opportunity.”

One of her first experiences in production was Lautenschlager’s résumé reads like a who’s on Mike Steinberg’s feature Amateur Hour in who in St. Louis independent film, though 1996. Steinberg describes Lautenschlager as “the she has never limited herself to local projects. glue that held the movie together. Bobbie never Although she’s “never going to Hollywood,” thinks of the limitations and, as a result, accomshe feels that local talent must move out of plishes quite a bit.” Lautenschlager says what the region in terms of having their work seen. she learned from those early experiences is this: Having the work seen provides the all-important “Access is what the whole world of production access. To that end, Bobbie has partnered with is about. Access to talent and money.” filmmakers locally and around the globe. She Bobbie has worked ever since to gain that is producing Fundamental Fairness: One Man’s access. One avenue of access is her work at Journey to Judgement, a documentary about a the St. Louis International Film Festival. Bobbie 23-year-old murder case with director Pat Scallet. started helping in 1994 and has worked her way She is assisting another partner, Nick Muccini, in up to curator of the New Filmmakers Forum. “All the filmmakers remember Bobbie,” notes Chris Clark, managing and artistic director for SLIFF. “I knew I had to “She continues to correspond with participants understand the business,” and helps many of the filmmakers that come Bobbie recalls. “I had to through.” She has now been running the NFF, learn the language. Africa a sidebar focusing on first-time filmmakers, for was about learning a six years. The sidebar allows Bobbie not only to new culture; production view a great deal of work by young filmmakers, was about learning a subbut also to throw her networking skills behind culture.” her favorites—and her networking skills are formidable. Doug Whyte, development director for dhTV, describes Lautenschlager as “refreshing, motivated, passionate, and unrelenting.”

Bobbie assisted Whyte in finding a distributor for his documentary about the mortuary business, Pushing Up Daisies.

This is the second key to Lautenschlager’s reputation as the godmother of local film: in addition to developing her own projects, she is constantly helping other filmmakers. Acting as a producer or script supervisor or just consulting, she BOBBIE LAUTENSCHLAGER AND HER PRODUCING PARTNER, NICK is always ready to lend her MUCCINI, AT THE LAKE ARROWOOD FILM FESTIVAL IN CALIFORNIA. experiences, wisdom, and a developing four scripts, including her own River helping hand. of Sorrow. Her recently completed Niger River Another way Bobbie has expanded her netTrek, a travelogue of her husband’s journey working is by attending other festivals, further through the African jungle, is currently making exposing her to talent as well as avenues for the festival rounds. that talent. Sundance, Memphis, and Cannes As the godmother of local independent film Film Festivals are just a few of the festivals the moves through life, she continues to make “Godmother” has graced. Often Bobbie is reprefriends and connections, looking for “original senting a film she has worked with, but usually yet accessible scripts” to develop, produce, and it is just for the experience. “It is an investment, sell. Throughout her travels, she remembers one and you must be willing to make that investsimple thing: “I want to make films.” ment,” she states about her regular sojourns to festivals, along with the expenses she incurs.

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february 2004

PBSTL PROFILE

THE ELECTRIC

The Electric: In the Chair by Rachel McCalla t’s very hard to pigeonhole the Electric, and that’s the way the band likes it. Start with its name: the Electric. It’s so ambiguous, it could work for almost any band: no-wave synth, unconventional experimental, dark goth, even heavy metal. Even more frustrating is trying to describe the band’s sound. The Riverfront Times tried to classify them and failed when it named the Electric “Best Garage Band” for 2002 and 2003. A commendable award, but the Electric is not garage rock. As a comparison, try this: mix two cups of the Cramps, one cup New York Dolls, a half cup Stevie Ray Vaughn, and a dash of Iggy Pop. And, oh yeah, sprinkle in a little Rocky Horror Picture Show transsexuality, then blend until chunky. That’s the Electric. They’re bluesy, rocky and, more importantly, erotic.

The music is well produced and straightforward, but the hook is the way Jason Triefenbach’s voice winds around the guitar riffs and rhythms and then lingers between the notes. He often pants and groans, and it’s all very sexy, clearly his intent. The songs have graphic images of women and the tricky things they do: women left holding the gun or on the run, women scratching their crotches or swaying with heart-shaped asses.

This eroticism invades their live show, as well.

The Electric’s live show is, well, electric.

In a normal performance, Triefenbach jumps around like crazy: gyrating his whole body, he bends over and sings into the microphone, climbs on furniture, lies on the floor and pumps the air with his crotch, or wraps the microphone around his neck and a nearby pole. Drummer Jeff Jahn, inspired by Mötley Crüe, purposely hangs women’s panties from the kick drum. Lead guitarist Matty Coonfield pumps and angles his guitar as he plays; he’s also known for going into the crowd to getting a better look. Loren Day, the bass player, is so into the music, it’s as if he’s forgotten the audience.

Through live performances over the past two years, the Electric has developed quite a strong following. And now, after a year spent working on their first full-length album, the band is scheduled to release Degenerotic Doses on St. Louis’s own Pro-Vel Records. Partners Nancy Catalina and Kirk Filley are thrilled. This release marks an important moment in the young label’s history: Degenerotic Doses will be the first full-length ProVel release from a Midwest band.

Over a 12-pack of Natural Light in their chilly rehearsal space, I got the opportunity to discuss the Electric’s history, the St. Louis music scene, and their upcoming CD.

I

1How did you form as a band, and how long have you been playing together?

Jason: We’ve been together for about two and a half years. Loren and I were in some band in high school; Matt and I were in a band together at Webster University.

Matt: We played a couple basement shows.

We broke up after graduating college and thought everyone would be moving out of town.

But after a year or two, we were still playing and wanted to start a new band.

Jason: We met Jeff on an Internet dating service. He had just moved here and was lookin’ for a boyfriend. We were so happy he could play drums. It worked out well.

on each other’s toes. There’s not like 30 bands all trying to sound like the best punk rock band or grunge band. Everybody sounds different; that’s worthwhile. We cross over enough, but we’re not in the same genre.

Matt: I think there are more professional bands here than there are in other places. There’s a better caliber of bands. I think it’s because nobody— Jason: It’s not like the eyes on the world are watching us.

Matt: Yeah, not like Chicago in the early ’90s when everyone was trying to sound like Ministry, Nine Inch Nails, and the Smashing Pumpkins shit because that’s what was coming out then. We’re

PHOTO: STEFAN HESTER

5

Where was your first gig?

Matt: Our first gig was at Jason and a friend’s gallery in this weird-ass loft downtown. We played with a folk singer and had a good turnout; it was pretty wild.

Jason: We got some positive feedback. One guy said, “I’ve never seen anything like that before!”

Tell me about your songwriting process.

Matt: Most of the time, I come with maybe a riff and a couple of verses, and the band will sit down and figure out what we like.

Loren: Most of our songs come from throwing shit on the walls and seeing what stays.

Matt: The main theme of a lot of our stuff is party music with not-so-party lyrics.

out in the middle of nowhere, doin’ what we think is cool. So everybody does their own thing and they do it as well as they can.

Loren: There are a lot of good bands in town, but they play out too much. Some are playin’ out six times in a month. When you play that many shows, you grow old fast.

Tell me about your name.

Matt: It wasn’t from a quote or anything; we just had a list of names. We were gonna be called a horrible name: the Children.

Jason: I loved that name.

The Electric What’s your opinion of the STL music scene?

Matt: I think there are better bands here than people realize. All the bands playing out that are good are fairly different. Nobody’s really stepping

How did you hook up with Pro-Vel Records?

Matt: I walked up to Nancy and said, “Hey, do you want to put out an album?” She said, “Yeah, maybe. Let me hear it.” So I said okay.

Jason: Technically, she had already asked us,

continued on next page

The Electric

The Electric at last fall’s South Side Rocks Off Festival. Photo: Tim O’Connell.

Matt: Yeah, we [the band] were talking about how we really wanted to put the album out when Loren said to Jason, “I think Nancy already asked you, but you were too drunk.”

Is the album what you’ve been writing over the last two years, or is there a concept to it?

Jason: Almost song for song, it’s our early set.

We’re really impatient to get it out there.

Loren: It’s almost to the point that I don’t know if anyone will [still] be interested in these songs.

Matt: It needs to happen now. Which is good. It’s good. It’s about right.

Where do you think The Electric fits into the St. Louis music scene?

Jeff: Right here, right with the four of us.

rom previous page

Loren: We get sort of relegated to the—what do they call it? “Dirty rock” sound. That’s great, but...

Matt: [Laughing] We also have a Kraftwerk influence!

Loren: Some of the shows we played in the beginning were with a variety of bands. We played this benefit for the STL Punk Web site [with] Ultraman. 19, The Cripplers. That was one of my favorite shows. There should be more of those shows, where different bands play together. There are too many shows where all the bands sound the same. It’s really boring to me; it doesn’t really challenge the listener.

Jason: As far as how we fit into the music scene, we like to think we can fit anywhere.

Matt: We just listen to such varied music. We all try to bring something different to the table.

Degenerotic Doses will hit your local music store February 15. In February, the Electric will play the Soulard Music Festival on February 13 and Lemmons on February 19.

ELBOW (from left)L Pete Turner, Richard Jupp, Guy Garvey, Mark Potter, and Craig Potter

february 2004

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PLAY BY PLAY

THE FRAMES:

MUSIC REVIEWS

SETLIST (Anti) THE FRAMES: SETLIST (Anti) Admittedly, I’m no expert when it comes to The Frames. I caught part of their set at SXSW last year and immediately picked up their thenlatest disc, the under-appreciated On a Wire. It’s beautiful, sure, but it often lacks the fire, the intensity of the large band I saw crowded on that small stage in Austin.

And by large band, I mean both ways: number of people (five) as well as popularity.

Though they’ve yet to achieve the popularity of fellow countrymen U2, in their own country, The Frames are huge. In 14 years, they’ve released seven albums and played worldwide.

They’re known for their live shows—a frequent complaint with their recorded efforts—and have now tried to capture that energy with the release of a live album. The fact that the album is getting an American release is a strange thing for a band that has yet to crack much of the U.S. market, although with this band, maybe it’s the right approach.

The band’s beauty is captured from the start with “Revelate.” Over Glen Hansard’s slight brogue breaks Colm Mac Conlomaire’s haunting fiddle. In the midst of the next song, “Star Star,” the violin creeps back in with strains of “Pure Imagination.”

Hansard says solemnly, “Close your eyes; count to three; make a wish,” and the crowd, adoring as they are, fall silent with approval.

The Frames’ music is a beautiful blend of poetry, folk music, and all-out rock. “Lay Me Down” is a folkier number, voices in harmony, blending over a gently strummed guitar and nothing more. That they pull it off so perfectly seems to surprise even Hansard, as he utters a reverent, “Wow” before launching into the refrain. Even with the live recording, it’s apparent that all members are proficient musicians, as their gentle picking, stroking, tapping, and coaxing all coalesce into a thing of beauty. At the end of “Lay Me Down,” Hansard lowers his voice and pulls off his best Johnny Cash impression with “Ring of Fire.”

The haunting high notes of “God Bless Mom” give way to building guitars and the easy crowd singalong, “You see how hard it can be/to keep your side of the deal,” before soaring into full rock symphony. “What Happens When the Heart Just Stops” is, as it sounds, heartachingly beautiful, although Hansard draws out the anticipation as he first tells a rather lengthy story about a neighborhood dog from his youth.

A harmonica kicks off “Rent Day Blues”; a banjo strums as Hansard sings, “I’m down on my check/beat on a bet/Kool and the Gang play on the radio,” to which the crowd—obviously schooled—sings out, “Celebrate good times, come on.” Mid-song, the banjo explodes in full glory, then the fiddle reaches above the rest of the instruments. The next song, “Pavement Tune,” is a hard-rocking gem, voices blending once again to intone the refrain: “I want my life to make more sense.” And again, it’s the violin—delicate, haunting, tugging at those socalled heartstrings.

Hard-hitting guitars close out “The Stars Are Underground,” a raucous rock song that could fit into—and expand—the American rock radio format. I’m not at all sure what instrument kicks off the lament “Santa Maria”—harpsichord? sythesizer?—as Hansard pleads, “Get me off of this float/I’m sick of this ride/The world is heading ever south/And I can’t stand it.” “This song is about listening to Bob Marley in the summer, off school, making tapes for your mates,” he says by way of introduction to “Your Face.”

Saving the best for (near) last, The Frames pull out “Fitzcarraldo” from their album Breadcrumb Trail (Plateau), a symphonic feast of strings, keys, and vocals. Listen to this song once, and it’s caught, stuck inside your brain on a loop, both haunting and familiar.

Brian Eno declared The Frames’ 2001 London concert the best he’d seen in five years. Setlist is a 73-minute, 13-song gem, an introduction to a band that is in full command of its numerous talents. Ultimately, it’s an album that will make you

weep at the beauty of it all: music, the world, irony, and life itself. www.theframes.ie —Laura Hamlett BINGO: THE CICADA AND OTHER STORIES (Cravedog Records) Plucked from the slush pile, a CD called The Cicada and Other Stories by a musician or musicians called Bingo inspires little if any confidence, suggesting emetic levels of affectation. It comes as a pleasant surprise, then, to discover that the CD in question by the (singular) musician in question charms in ways almost wholly unanticipated. continued on next page

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The third solo release from California folkie Kevin “Bingo” Richey and the first from Portland’s Cravedog Records, The Cicada, at least in the main, thankfully eschews the hippy-dippiness of its press kit. (“It is Bingo’s positive outlook on life, his carefree nature, and pleasant, peaceful demeanor,” et cetera, et cetera—Haightful stuff, truly.)

“Ghost Woman Blues,” the seventh of ten tracks here, features a burst of yodeling, for instance, and no self-respecting latter-day flowerpower type would so debase himself. On the title song, moreover, Bingo wisely downplays the metaphor at the heart of the lyric, and if he goes all “Scarborough Fair/Canticle” on Track 9, “Twinkle Twinkle,” it fails to provoke a psychotic fugue precisely to the extent that Bingo, unlike Simon & Garfunkel, sounds nothing like a choirboy emeritus.

Indeed, on “Proud Eagle,” he sounds like no one so much as the Lizard King himself, Jim Morrison; to boot, that track constitutes an in-your-face protest song reminiscent of (say) Marty Balin at his most endearingly vexed, accompanied by a satisfactorily bluesy guitar.

In that regard, as a matter of fact, Bingo excels on The Cicada and Other Stories with an array of instruments in a range of styles, perhaps predictably—in the late ’90s, according to a smidgen of research, he belonged to Golden Delicious, a noted Oregon quintet.

An unexpectedly engaging disc, this. Give it a spin.

—Bryan A. Hollerbach

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MASON JENNINGS: USE YOUR VOICE (Bar/None) I once convinced a girl to give Mason Jennings a listen. It was a cold recommendation; nothing about her listening patterns should have ever led me to such a thing.

This was three years ago, and she was busy devoting herself to Jimmy Eat World. But she downloaded one song which turned into a second song, which turned into a third. She went goofy for this Minneapolis singer/ songwriter who sang like a radio I once had that would fade in and out, depending on how close my hand was to the receiver.

When Jennings went on tour, this girl scanned a tour schedule to find that he was playing a bar two blocks from her house. She’d never gone to a show alone, always needing a social deputy to have her back. But alone she went; Mason made her do it. She got home that night and e-mailed me two pictures she had had taken with him after his performance. Altogether, it is the most successful endorsement of a musician I’ve ever made.

Use Your Voice will have me going to his well again. Only ten songs in length, the album is shorter then an elementary school recess, but there’s no need to talk about what’s not there.

Recorded live in a studio, the songs have the intimacy of a bedroom, capturing all the warmth that may have ever found refuge underneath the down comforter hanging over his box spring. If the people of the land of 10,000 lakes (that’s just an estimate, right?) wanted to lower their heating bills, they could use “Ballad of Paul and Sheila” as a body mitten, keeping everything toasty until the spring thaw.

Jennings has been name-checked by Ben Kweller, Jack Johnson, and the Kings of Leon for his writing skills, and those skills are on full display in “Fourteen Pictures” and “Empire Builder,” which, respectively, play out the life stories of a man facing a communication block that comes from divorce and a railroad worker laying track and dreaming of weekend sojourns with his gal.

Different on the surface, the two tracks go a long way in summing up the mentality of Jennings and his particular forms of beauty: sad, lost love and happy, anticipatory love.

Knowing the results doesn’t help distinguish what kind of music he actually plays. He has country sensibilities, but then he’ll slide into a hip-hop syncopation, as he does on “Keepin’ It Real,” that makes him more of a banger than a hayseed. All that’s for certain is that the 28year-old Jennings has, with his fourth album, established himself as one of the best currently

working. Now, if only I had a name for what his work is, I’d be set.

—Sean Moeller MARK LANEGAN BAND: HERE COMES THAT WEIRD CHILL EP (METHAMPHETAMINE BLUES, EXTRAS & ODDITIES) (Beggars Banquet) You might be content with the adrenaline-provoking rock the Queens of the Stone Age have been producing, but that’s no consolation for Mark Lanegan.

Stepping away from his role in the aforementioned hit-mongers, Lanegan has been working on a full-length album due out this spring. Originally planned as a promotional single, Here Comes That Weird Chill was expanded to EP length and contains outtakes from the album sessions as well as a cover of Captain Beefheart’s “Clear Spot.” Appearances by QOTSA’s Josh Homme and Nick Oliveri, as well as Ween’s Dean Ween, Afghan Whig’s Grag Dulli, Eleven Also’s Alain Johannes, and Masters of Reality’s Chris Goss round out the recording’s lineup.

Lanegan’s soulful and raspy voice envelops every track in an atmosphere of dirge and complements the wailing guitars and forceful rhythms of the opening track, “Methamphetamine Blues” while driving the rising vocal melody of “Message to Mine.” Hardly one of the tracks could be labeled “catchy” or mistaken for a pure rock mantra, but instead, the EP’s artistic direction and track sequence create a somewhat sinister, albeit coolly restrained mood.

The bluesy, piano-driven ballad “Lexington Slow Down” is loaded with gut-wrenching regret and despair: “I don’t mind being stoned/They say Jesus was.” With its gloomy, mystical lyrics (“Prayers are for the dead left over” and “No my skeleton won’t tell”), airy drums, spacey guitar, and climatic sound effects, “Skeletal History” is reminiscent of a Jim Morrison epic. Closing the EP is a bass-loaded jam with a touch of psychedelic flavoring and a few undecipherable inserts of Lanegan’s deep growl: a fitting end to an EP that makes you feel as though you’ve just toured the darkest part of this musician’s soul.

The EP works well as a whole, making one wonder why more artists don’t conceive smaller, more creatively lucid projects such as this. Even if these are Lanegan’s throwaways, I say bring on the real thing. It’s refreshing to hear the work of an artist who doesn’t mind wringing out his soul for our amusement.

—J. Church

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february 2004 THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING: TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE HEART (Brilliante) Boy, do I love stuff that’s different. Stuff that has no chance of ever being played on the radio, placing on any charts, being used to sell cars or vacuum cleaners on television, etc. Sure, such music might be weird and painful and limited in the number of settings where one might choose to play it, but stuff that’s different is admirable.

And it should be celebrated for that very differentness, especially in this age when risk-taking is diametrically opposed to commercial success most of the time.

This CD called Total Eclipse of the Heart (no, not a remake of that overwrought Bonnie Tyler song) recently came my way, credited to some outfit called The Love of Everything. It’s, uh, different. The first 60 seconds of this disc are enough to alienate 95 percent of the listening public. The first 60 seconds of this disc, if played for a roomful of A&R suits eager to find the next hip thing, would be enough for said suits to shake their heads and politely dismiss the record as having “no commercial potential.”

You see, in that first minute of this odd little disc, after a series of reasonably pleasant little acoustic guitar chordings (and a little slide), a nasally, offkey vocal comes in that sounds like an overmedicated Daniel Johnston. Bobby Burg, the party responsible for this essentially one-man recording, sings: “Old supporters of kicking and screaming/Are dying by living so late/Architects are building our family tree carefully.” As he hits the word “tree,” Burg’s voice shoots up to a painfully piercing falsetto, grating enough to clear the friggin’ room. I loved it! Thanks, Bobby baby, for making me grin from ear to ear during the depressing, cold month of January! You’re all right, friend!

Burg is a Chicago lad who evidently began recording with his roommate, Drew Wilson, in 1999. Matt Clark, from Pinebender/Joan of Arc, began playing with them live and would soon become Burg’s primary collaborator. The two made Total Eclipse with Bob Weston, who, I suppose, served in the producer role. But honestly, what you get here are raw, off-kilter demos that are simply mixed well enough to “showcase” Burg’s goofy but earnest individualism. Little of conventional musical appeal adorns this record.

It’s only the rise of “outsider music” and the sort of independence afforded by Internet selfpromotion that even make the release of this record possible. No mainstream label would ever touch it.

Total Eclipse has 14 short tracks, totaling about 37 minutes. Daniel Johnston is the obvi-

ous reference point (minus DJ’s predilection for rhyming ditties about unrequited love); another would be Syd Barrett circa The Madcap Laughs, if ol’ addle-brained Syd sang an octave higher and had the ability to pay just a bit more attention to things like arrangement. In spite of the amateurishness here, this record has a lot of heart. On “Little Bit of Good,” the stark simplicity and bit of evocative guitar serve Burg’s modest intent well. “Pay attention to the groom/Let the truth do a little/Bit of good/Failures with mine/Fail yours with mine,” Burg sings, compelling the sort of creative musings that 17 or so of us might engage in. Tracks like “Blooming a Ton” and “Prize Is Surprise” are little more than musical doodles, not actual songs, although the latter features real drums (most of this disc is acoustic guitar and simplistic keyboards). But “Marry My Wife” is too interesting to ignore: the drums and insistent one-chord guitar strumming arouse your attention, and there’s a pathos in Burg’s offkey bleat that ends up being pretty darn poignant. The genuinely weird “Dear Gravity Fills” is played on a toy piano, with vocals you can barely hear. The eerie, mellotron-laced “Living Life Too” is actually sort of pretty, with Johnston-esque romantic yearning evident in the lyrics. “Heat Her Hays,” with its blend of mellotron and acoustic guitar, builds effectively on that mood, increasing the musical interest, while Burg sings, “It was sweet but it stung/Unlike any life left alone/If left alone standing dominoes.” Something spooky is happening here, you realize. “Be Nice to Me” and “Fade” sound like the sort of deceptively simple ditties a good friend of mine used to compose, which, although his key would wander at will, would always sort of touch you with the genuine emotion in his performance. The latter tune is particularly melancholy, with Burg singing at a slightly lower pitch and the controlled guitar picking making you think there may be a bit of commercial potential in this guy after all. Then, right in the middle, drums come in playing a waltz beat, the guitar shifts to a sort of background scraping sound, Burg sings a few lyrics about feeling “preoccupied and empty,” and it all fades out. Eh, wot?

I’m not going to misguide you readers and tell you to get this record. It’s primitive, often irritating, and devoid of anything you can sing along with or tap your foot to for more than 30 seconds. But if you’re down on formulaic commercial claptrap, you may want to check this out. I can only say that this is the first record I’ve heard in 2004 that didn’t make me want to take it off after a few songs. The Love of Everything is…different from almost everything. For that, Mr. Burg, I thank you. And don’t bother taking voice lessons. www.brilliante.tv —Kevin Renick continued on page 11

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february 2004 Play by Play BRITTA PHILLIPS AND DEAN WAREHAM: SONIC SOUVENIRS (Jetset) Sometimes the best things come from opposite sides of the spectrum. Such is the case with the latest Britta Phillips/Dean Wareham EP, Sonic Souvenirs.

This EP features six tracks from their album L’Aventura cleverly rearranged, retooled, and rerecorded by ex–Spaceman 3 Sonic Boom.

This is indeed an interesting marriage of sounds. The coy, smooth sound of Phillips meshes perfectly with the quietly happy, but somehow hushed and nervous-sounding Dean Wareham. The songs they create are pop gems with sweetness and exuberance. Throw Sonic Boom’s reconstructions of these songs into the mix, and you have a nice collection of extraordinary pop songs.

The EP begins with the silky smooth “Your Baby (Can’t Stand the Rain).” Sonic Boom throws ambient effects—rainfall, quiet reverb, and Britta’s best dark nightclub voice—together, making this version much darker and sexier.

Eighties psychedelic shoegazers Opal are covered on the breathy “Hear the Wind Blow.”

Sonic Boom takes Wareham’s voice and makes it resonate above a neurotic, faint hum that makes everything more fragile and desperate. There is some nice crunchy guitar work lurking about in the foreground, as well.

Buffy Sainte-Marie’s Moonshot” is given righteous treatment. The string arrangements are beautiful, and the vocals are just melancholic enough to make you hope for something great and fragrant. It’s a powerful song with excellent harmonizing that darts in and out of the melodies, contorted by Sonic Boom.

By far the best track on this collection is “Ginger Snaps.” Sonic Boom gives the track more room with a new backing percussion track that makes it almost (gasp) danceable. You can hear the infatuation and sexual tension bristling all over the place as Wareham and Phillips exchange verses and eventually snuggle, seep, and splash forth colorfully over Sonic Boom’s backbeats and snare drums.

Sonic Souvenirs can’t go on forever, but it ends on the perfect note with the very nice “Your Baby.” Despite obvious sonic similarities to Paula Frazer, Mazzy Star, or Mojave 3, it stands alone pretty well. It features a mesmerizingly happy and sultry Phillips singing in her best late-nightcigarette-after-sex voice. Sonic Boom has taken a handful of alluring and passionate love songs, fiddled with them just enough, and molded a complete reworking that is lively, adventurous, shiny, and new.

—Rob Levy

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R APIDER THAN HORSEPOWER: THIS IS MY BIG NIGHT (Secretly Canadian) It’s hard to know where to start when writing about a CD such as this one. Rapider Than Horsepower is not your typical rock band, and the CD is full of quirks and surprises.

More often than not, a recording will come through the mail, and the minute it’s placed in the CD player, the mood in the room becomes that of sheer boredom. This Is My Big Night is hardly a boring CD and will certainly keep a listener entertained.

This indie rock band from Indiana has mixed two clean guitar sounds with drums and a wacky vocal performance to come up with their own sound. The band’s two guitar players spend most of their time playing clean-sounding guitar riffs and create a dueling guitar effect. The fact that the band has no bass player makes it all the more unusual, and low notes are not in the mix.

The CD opens with “I Can’t Survive Without My Beatbox,” which is a great example of Horsepower’s unique sound. Singer Mike Anderson, who jokingly credits himself as just a “background vocalist,” sings in a strange, almost spoken-word tone that is a bit like Lou Reed gone insane. Other tracks like “Dude Poverty” showcase his voice; the lyrics are equally as unusual, but they just make the songs all the more interesting.

It’s a shame more people have not heard the unique sound yet. I caught the band’s show at the Creepy Crawl last month, where, unfortunately, they performed to an empty area in front of the stage and a few people who seemed to have been glued to the bar. Hopefully, the band will return to St. Louis for a better crowd after people hear this great CD. —John Kujawski R AEKWON: THE LEX DIAMOND STORY (Universal Records) One could make a convincing argument that, without Raekwon, there would be no 50 Cent or Puff Daddy. On his 1995 debut, Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, Rae pioneered both rapping in gratuitous detail about the crack game and jewelry. With RZA in his prime on the beats, Cuban Linx is widely considered the best Wu-Tang project, essential listening for hip-hop fans.

Needless to say, most musicians are lucky to

make one album this influential; as expected, in 1999, Chef Raekwon dropped Immobilarity, a disappointing sophomore effort. His latest, The Lex Diamond Story, is not just disappointing; it’s straight-up mediocre. Lex Diamond is a frustrating album, not because it cannot compare to Raekwon’s legendary debut, but because it suffers from the exact same problems that hurt Immobilarity: bad guest rapping and bad beats.

It’s not as if Raekwon can’t hold his own on the mic. He still brings the same scientific street talk that made him famous on “Clientele Kids” and “King of Kings.” His storytelling skills are still sharp on “Pablow Escablow” and “Missing Watch.” He gets surprisingly warm on “Once Upon a Time,” a duet with Wu songstress Tekitha. Rae also picks his big-name guests well.

Bronx don Fat Joe, Havoc of Mobb Deep, and, of course, Ghostface Killah all match Raekwon’s grimy New York ambiance. Sheek Louch of the Lox comes through with the best line on the album, saying he needs a “throwback straight jacket.” The lyrics are split evenly, however, between the talented veterans above and a clutch of weak newcomers. Rae tries to sell the listener on Ice Water Entertainment, featuring his boys PC, Stumic, and Polite. These kids show up on almost every track, effectively nullifying some impressive lyrical performances.

The damage Ice Water does to Lex Diamond would have been reduced had Raekwon laced his peoples with good beats. In the past, the Wu-Tang collective has shown an unreasonable amount of beat-making talent. Ghostface Killah’s dope Supreme Clientele featured a plethora of noname producers creating classic after classic. Lex Diamond features a plethora of no-name producers churning out bad New York club fodder that sounds about four years old. Even DJ Khalil, who recently graduated from the Los Angeles underground to Dr. Dre’s stable, only musters up some saccharine bullshit.

In one of the several confusing skits on Lex Diamond, Rae screams on an interviewer who only wants to talk about Cuban Linx. His frustration is understandable, but he has nobody to blame but himself. As Ol’ Dirty Bastard links up with The Neptunes, RZA makes classic movie soundtracks, GZA drops consistently good albums, and Ghostface Killah rocks a giant golden eagle on his arm, Rae hasn’t done a damn thing.

—Andrew Friedman SAY HI TO YOUR MOM: NUMBERS & MUMBLES (Euphobia) “She plays pop music of the future,” Eric Elbogen—or, for our purposes here today, the man who is Say Hi to Your Mom—whisper-sings in the delicate opening track, painting a softly continued on page 22

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AIR: TALKIE WALKIE (Astralwerks) Air’s 1997 Moon Safari was something of a coup, taking electronic music back through time through atmospheres pumped out of old Moogs, vocoders, and satin-throated chanteuses, giving the French some desperately needed music cred, and being one of the best makeout albums ever.

Talkie Walkie carries the listener through more of Air’s distinctly Gallic daydreams, but tends to rest on its laurels more than it should. There are some very elegant melodies and arrangements, particularly in the instrumental numbers “Mike Mills” and “Alone in Kyoto,” which many heard in the film Lost in Translation. “Run” opens with pulsing bells punctuated with delightfully creepy quivering synth hits. The gnomish whistling on “Alpha Beta Gaga” is fun. However, too much of this album is unfortunately forgettable, thinblooded, and denied the sexy warmth that oozed from Moon Safari. Nicolas Godin and Jean Benoit Dunckel sing together on many songs in the same disaffected style, which contributes to the looming threat of blandness. Air risks becoming formulaic.

Ultimately, Air is talented enough that even a mediocre effort would still blow many others’ best electronic noodlings far off into space.

Talkie Walkie, co-produced by ultra-popular producer Nigel Godrich, is well above mediocre and enjoyable, but it’s not likely to usurp Moon Safari’s glory. And there’s a limited-edition version coming out with a bonus DVD with five videos, which gives Air fans more reasons to buy this album. But still, when you know a band can compose more fascinating and engaging music, it’s a little disappointing. (JG) ANDY CONRAD: ARTIFICIAL JUNK (SeaRad Music) Occasionally, an artist from our fair city releases a super-clean and crisply produced disc of well-written, progressive-sounding material

CRYSTAL METHOD

that is more than worthy of being found on record store shelves nationwide. Artificial Junk, the latest solo disc from former Colony member Andy Conrad, is a prime example of CDs that fall into this all-too-elusive category. Written and recorded in Conrad’s cleverly titled home-based BassMint studios, the 16 tracks are primarily cut from the same fabric that artists such as Elliot Smith used, but there also are a fair number of odd but appealing Ween-like instrumentals (“Birthday Collage,” “Sailing for Lanai,” “Bright Eyes Worn Off”).

Conrad is both the captain and crew of this ship; he plays all of the instruments himself, which include unusual oddities such as buckets, chairs, and what he refers to as “gadgets.” He also designed the colorful, swirling images on the CD’s covers. Bits of additional musical and engineering contributions are provided on a few tracks by some of Conrad’s friends and colleagues. Conrad has made a complete departure from the Colony sound, now focusing on creating a more forward-thinking style that he can truly call his own.

Artificial Junk is available at Wherehouse Music or cdbaby.com. (MU) CRYSTAL METHOD: LEGION OF BOOM (V2/BMG) Anyone who loves what the Crystal Method does—hard-edged techno-influenced dance music—will enjoy Legion of Boom. However, despite the new wrappings and new hype, there is nothing innovative here. It’s the same old pounding beats and clicks, but this time the collaborations take on a harder, more metallic rap-oriented flavor.

For this go ’round, the lads roped in some heavy talent. They recruited Rahzel of the Roots, Milla Jovovich, John Garcia of Kyuss, and ex–Limp Bizkit guitarist Wes Borland. Despite all of this, the album still comes off as derivative and flat. It’s almost tacky to say that a band sounds “so ’90s,” but the Crystal Method does.

In fact, they have given us almost the exact same lifeless record that they did last time. This is a shame, because there is genuine talent that could be harvested and put to good use. Their debut album had a texture and a feel to it that really changed electronic music. Now, sadly, the magic is gone.

There are, however, some bright moments.

The lead single, “Born Too Slow,” is a moving, pounding beatfest. “The American Way” is an indictment wrapped in percussion and rhythm, with nice MC work by Rahzel. “I Know It’s You” isn’t too bad; Jovavich is coy and smooth with her vocals. Sadly, contributions from Jon Brion and DJ Swamp don’t do much to save the record. (RL)

THE DEAD CELEBRITIES VS. THE TRIP DADDYS: LIVE AT THE WAY OUT CLUB (Fat Fish) Seeing the Dead Celebrities and the Trip Daddys perform on the same bill always makes for a great local music experience. Both of these bands have high-energy live shows, filled with great audience interaction and light-hearted humor. Now these two bands have joined forces and put out five live tracks apiece on one CD, and the results are quite good.

Craig Straubinger, lead singer/guitarist of the Trip Daddys, is one of the guitar heroes of our local music scene. Combining influences of rockabilly and punk rock, he rips through guitar solos and riffs without effort, and his performance here is top-notch. Bassist Jamey Almond lends his mild-mannered vocal style to the mix in songs like “Doublewide” and the hilarious “Teenage Car Washing Girls”; the songs have never sounded better.

For the Dead Celebrities’ contribution, the band plays through their humorous set of punk rock, offering songs like the catchy “Second Skin” and “Bail,” the group’s amusing tribute to police officers everywhere. Guitarist Elvis Kennedy plays hard as nails through all five of the tracks. At their last live show, an audience member proclaimed, “The Dead Celebrities are a hell of a good band,” and this CD is a nice way to be introduced to these two groups. (JK) EDWARD JAMES RICHARD: HOLY MOUNTAIN BANJO The Trappist monk Thomas Merton once said, “A Catholic poet should be an apostle by being first of all a poet…[because] he is going to be judged as a poet, and if he is not a good one his apostolate will be ridiculed.” Substitute “banjo player” for “poet,” and you’ll get Edward James Richard’s task on his latest recording, Holy Mountain Banjo, featuring the Ozark Bluegrass Boys. That Roman collar on his picture in the CD jacket (Richard is a missionary of La Salette) might make some think this is a novelty disc. He proves himself with bright, lively picking and by

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carefully choosing instrumental bluegrass tunes—traditional numbers like “Devil’s Dream,” favorites by Ralph Stanley and Bill Monroe, even originals

by Richard and fiddle player Ron Yule.

The Holy Mountain of LaSalette in the Alps inspired the title and the album’s first song. “The French Alps don’t necessarily cause one to think about bluegrass,” Richard admits in the liner notes, “but bluegrass has been played right there in that very spot, by me, anyway, and it sounds just as good out there as on any other mountain.” Visit www.holymountainmusic.org for more information. (AP) THE SPIDERS: GLITZKRIEG (Acetate Records) When I see a spider, I don’t think much of it either way. I don’t bother stepping on it, but I don’t care to watch it crawl around, either. So it makes sense that this band would be called the Spiders, because they don’t have much of an effect on me.

Still, this underground Texas band has come up with two really great tracks. Both “The Invasion” and “School Night Out” have catchy guitar parts and haunting melodies that stay with you after just one listen. Other tracks on the CD, such as “Gospel” and “Warm Witness Stare,” are too generic to get excited about. Luckily, the lyrics are quite creative and show that the band certainly has a sense of humor. While Christopher Benedict’s vocals are good enough to get the job done, many of the tracks lack inspiring guitar work. The cover of the CD actually warns that there are explicit lyrics contained on the recording, but I doubt the songs will offend anyone. My guess is that this CD won’t have much effect on people, positive or negative. (JK)

MIDWEST AMERICAN IDLE with Julia Sets FREE every Wednesday 2/14: MISSOURI VALENTINE’S DAY ROADSHOW featuring the Doxies (Columbia, MO), No River City (Atlanta, GA), and Dave Olsen (St. Paul, MN)

radio stripped to the essentials: no commercials no noisy DJs just music, music, and even more music

LIVE MUSIC ALWAYS 4454 CHIPPEWA - (314) 351-5711

3WK UNDERGROUNDRADIO recent adds: Wheat, Califone, Elf Power, Super Furry Animals, Circulatory System, Good Life, Skating Club, Wilco, Archer Prewitt, The Bens, Cloud Cult, The Fatales, Ima Robot, Jason Collett, Mars Volta, Sons and Daughters, Volebeats 3WK CLASSIC UNDERGROUNDRADIO is pleased to welcome long-time progressive rock radio veteran Ken Rundel to 3WK

indie or classic rock

and

cosponsored events in February: BRENTWOOD 2/7: Mitsu Saito 2/14: Monty Hobson/Ali Miller 2/16, 7 pm: Mason Jennings 2/21: Justin Carroll 2/28: Yeshiva Band SUNSET HILLS 2/13: Roy Spiekerman 2/20: Mark Biehl 2/27: Precho CD release *All shows 8-10 pm unless noted

CREVE COEUR 2/7: Keith Sherman 2/21: Keith Sherman 2/28: Precho CD release BALLWIN 2/14 : Keith Sherman FAIRVIEW HEIGHTS 2/21: Tia McGraff ST. PETERS 2/7: Philip Wesley

www.3wk.com

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VICTIM OF MODERN AGE: CHANNELS LIKE CAPILLARIES (Universal Warning Records) This Lafayette, Louisiana, quartet immediately brought to mind comparisons to the sounds of mid to late ’90s groups like Vitreous Humor, Prozac Memory, Vehicle Birth, Boy’s Life, and Proudentall. Channels Like Capillaries is ten tracks of moody, solid post-punk. Opening with the slow-building “Merry Miler,” the album transitions to the title track, whose opening guitar licks sound eerily reminiscent of Vitreous Humor’s “Looper.” Also, it’s immediately evident in tracks like “The Kamikaze,” “Middle of January,” and “Anthro Apololgy” that VOMA vocalist Allen Clements sounds a hell of a lot like STL’s Dan Campbell (Asia Minor, Five Deadly Venoms, Back of Dave). While it does tail off by the end of the disc, Channels Like Capillaries is still a mighty impressive LP. The year may be young, but this is one of the best rock records I’ve come across so far. (DL) Contributors: Jessica Gluckman, John Kujawski, Rob Levy, David Lichius, Angela Pancella, Michele Ulsohn.

VICTIM OF MODERN AGE

Newly Expanded $4.99 CD Section 601 E. Lockwood (Formerly the Alpine Shop)

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BACKSTAGE PASS CONCERT REVIEWS

Ani DiFranco

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w/Noe Venable Missouri Theatre, Columbia, January 16 Much like the kaleidoscopic backdrop solemnly situated behind the beloved singer/ songwriter/entrepreneur on this evening, Ani DiFranco’s career has contained an abundance of change. For over a decade, she has produced music ranging from solo folk rock to funk collaborations containing horns and keys (check out her work with Prince and Maceo Parker). Yet DiFranco has not lost control of her art or let it become oblique; all the changes have been selfappointed. She has attracted a diverse following and an ample amount of attention by way of her clever and excruciatingly honest social commentaries. She has scoffed at the conglomerate musical capitalists and has scorned public officials while keeping her sense of humor and a point of direction in her musical career.

If DiFranco had succumbed to one of the overbearing music companies, things would undoubtedly be different. She probably would not have such devoted fans and would not be able to cater to her own desires, such as releasing double live discs and collaborating with spokenword artists. But her live appearances could have been the most affected, and this would be the biggest tragedy. I have seen DiFranco perform many times, in formats ranging from solo to a seven-piece band. Her solo acoustic shows are arguably the best, and this one continued that tradition. The self-proclaimed “righteous babe” took to the stage strumming the opening chords to the decade-old “Names and Dates and Times” and was greeted with a standing ovation. As DiFranco performed songs spanning the course of her career, the crowd laughed and shouted in adoration of her lyrics and energetic stage presence.

The audience seemed satisfied with DiFranco’s newer tracks from her latest CD, Educated Guess (Righteous Babe Records), and pleasantly surTOP: ANI DiFRANCO/PHOTO: J. CHURCH

prised at subtle re-creations of older material like “Anticipate,” “Marrow,” and “Two Little Girls.”

Not far into her set, the songwriter, whose merchandise booth is always filled with local activists soliciting support for various causes, took the opportunity to make political commentary, when she pleaded for everyone to take note of the upcoming presidential election and to “reinvest in the belief of government.” DiFranco’s comments are never preachy and are given with an open mind and not a clenched fist. Too often, her outspoken personality draws the most attention, with little consideration given to her guitarplaying abilities. So DiFranco kept the comments to a minimum and attacked her instrument with fiery attitude and accomplished style.

Opening for Ani DiFranco was San Francisco native Noe Venable. A perfect complement to DiFranco, Venable’s set was soothing and mellow, much like her latest release, the world is bound by secret knots (Petridish Records). Her voice is tender and sweet but contains an underlying strength. Her songs, primarily characterdriven, are riddled with mystic metaphors and yearn for a sense of connection without damning self-reliance. Venable’s producer/engineer, Todd Sickafoose, constructively and unobtrusively accompanied the singer/guitarist on an upright bass. Her sense of depth and artistic vision is fresh and inspiring.

The Missouri Theatre’s intimate atmosphere allowed complete, unadulterated concentration on both performances. For more information on these artists, check out righteousbabe.com and noevenable.com.

—J. Church

The Urge The Pageant, December 23 There are many things that affect how much you enjoy a show. With the Urge, the energy and enthusiasm with which they play their shows set a standard that is hard to follow. Perhaps that’s

why their fans are so easily aggravated by bands that they deem not up to the high standards they’ve set for their shows.

Strange Device started things off with what was apparently their first performance in front of a crowd that large. Laced with power chords and screaming vocals not so far removed from those of, say, Linkin Park, their performance was mostly met with occasional nods from kids in the pit and indifference from those drinking and conversing up above. One suggestion, boys: if you yell, “Let’s go!” during a song, try changing up your music a little afterward or doing something to incite the crowd other than nodding your head.

La Push played next and was a pleasant surprise. While not well received by most in the pit (one heckler in particular continued to yell, “You fucking suck,” throughout their set), their melodic sound was a nice treat. While an acoustic guitar and computerized keys accompanied by electric guitar and drums are not what one would expect to see in that environment, the sound they produced was more than enough to please many in the house. The lead singer did an admirable job of dealing with a hostile crowd, thanking those who clapped and letting those who jeered know that they only had a few songs left until the Urge. I don’t envy the awkwardness the band must have felt, but I admire the way they handled it.

The Urge, as usual, put on quite the show.

They delivered a lengthy set, playing songs ranging from the fairly obscure “Spyz” to the ever-popular “Jump Right In.” There were long drum and guitar solos that served as miniature encore breaks. What set their performance apart from those of the recent past, though, were not what songs were played, but rather, the manner in which they were played. The band seemed to be much more energetic (if possible) than in years past and seemed truly happy. Smiles were the order of the day. You could hear the emo-

february 2004 tional change in the way Steve Ewing sang. You could feel it in the drums and guitars. This was a band that was happy to be back together. With a handful of shows at the end of January, heading into February, one can only hope that these are all signs of more good things to come.

—Tim Doyle

Raphael Saadiq w/Rhian Benson The American Theatre, January 11 I entered the intimate American Theatre and sat among mostly African American 20-somethings simmering in their own unapologetic hipness. Leather jackets, perfectly ironed blue jeans, kick-ass boots, and other fly gear abounded to make an overall good fashion statement. Coco Soul, a rising St. Louis recording artist to watch, arrived and nonverbally announced her presence with a big, red shock of an Afro. Beatle Bob also was there, and I wondered how his often frenetic, herky-jerky dancing would work with the smooth, mid-tempo neo-classic soul that we were all waiting to hear.

Waiting was the operative word that night.

A good hour or more of listening to pre-show music passed before the opening act, St. Louis– based vocalist and songwriter Nadia, walked onstage for a brief set. Nadia’s band knew what

they were doing, but at times their playing overpowered her voice. Still, Nadia earnestly sang compelling songs of lost love and loneliness, and after the third or fourth song, I came to the conclusion that she has more great potential as a songwriter than a singer. Not a bad thing, since (except at the top) there is much more gravy to be had in publishing than in performing.

After another near-hour wait, Rhian Benson stepped behind her microphone. Her undeniable beauty made some of the men in the audience howl. She began with “Words Hurt Too,” a track from her CD Gold Coast that was more jazz than soul. Next, Benson paid homage to her birthplace of Ghana with a breezy cut, “Gold Sky.” After a fantastic performance, the audience offered tepid applause, and I was immediately reminded why St. Louis has a reputation for having tough, “show me” audiences.

Undaunted, Benson performed the generally lovely “Spirit.” However, I found myself searching for a more memorable chorus. Benson then took on Bob Marley’s classic, “Jamming.” By the way she sang the first verse, I was worried that she was going to butcher this sacred cow. However, Benson quickly redeemed herself by singing the song the way it was intended and encouraging the audience to sing along. She ended her set with the radio hit “Say How I Feel,” the most

neo-classic soul song she would perform.

The waiting game returned for what seemed like another hour before Raphael Saadiq appeared.

He walked onstage in military attire and led his perfectly tuned band to kick-start the night with lesser-known songs like the blues-soul perfection “Charlie Ray” and the infectious “Faithful,” both featured on his career hits CD compilation, All Hits at the House of Blues.

Later, Saadiq would go back to his first solo hit after leaving Toni! Tony! Toné! and one of the best R&B slow jams of the ’90s, “Ask of You.” With “Just Me and You,” Saadiq got a little ’70sera Al Green when he got down on the floor to sing. By that time, Saadiq had many of the women in the audience screaming and reaching as best they could to touch him. Just as he had them screaming for more, Saadiq disappeared from the stage as one his accompanying singers took over.

When she began, I immediately wondered if Tina Turner herself was hiding backstage somewhere and filling the theater with that raw, perfect rock-soul voice, but it was all Joi, who hails from Tennessee like her obvious influence.

It must be that Tennessee water, because I was blown away by her passion-fire performance of “Missing You,” also featured on All Hits. Before continued on page 17

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OCEAN SIX/PHOTO: GEORGE RODRIGUEZ

PLAYBACK ST. LOUIS

Three to See that prove that great music doesn’t just come from the West; it comes from also the Midwest.

This talented, indie-rock threepiece brings so much energy to the stage that the teenagers who watch them have no choice but to jump up and down with excitement. All three of the members JASON HUTTO of PHONOCAPTORS Photo: JIM DUNN have a strong stage presence and manage to connect with the audience as they tear through a variety of unpredict- back to life. Crypt 33 is a great three-piece band able drum parts and guitar riffs. Certain parts of that plays devastatingly heavy and exciting their set are laid back and melodic, but often sets. Guitarist Shane Kemp has a brutal collecthey build the songs up until they explode into tion of metal riffs that he tears through on his guitar solos and machine-gun drum rhythms. guitar almost without effort. He puts so much But the band always manages to have the into his guitar playing that his heavy guitar audience’s attention, regardless of what twists work literally becomes a brutal weapon onstage and turns their set takes. If you aren’t part of that is impossible to ignore. Many of the songs their audience now, it’s well worth checking are short but addictive pieces that are hard not to take a liking to. It’s hard to catch the lyrthis band out. ics when they perform, but songs like “Death Crypt 33—If you’re by any means dead Smiles on a Murderer” have a great feel—and bored with your week, a trip to see this they even cover Misfits songs, as well.

—John Kujawski Fredericktown band should easily bring you

Here are just three of the great original St. Louis bands that play around town on a regular basis. Check them out as soon as you get a chance.

The Phonocaptors—This local underground rock band has managed to capture the attention of many fans of good rock ’n’ roll in this town. Even other local bands can be heard covering some of the Phonocaptors’ songs.

There are certainly quite a few reasons why this is the case. Singer/guitarist Jason Hutto is a natural onstage, and the band’s straightforward approach to performing, along with their unique, clean guitar sound, helps to make them one of the more rewarding bands in the area to see live. In place of gimmicks is a pure guitar sound, backed by a solid drummer. Hutto gets right to the point onstage, playing through a variety of guitar riffs and giving a solid vocal performance without boring the audience with speeches or forcing them into an audience-participation segment.

Westcott—Westcott is one of those bands

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february 2004 Backstage Pass Joi handed things back over to Saadiq, she announced her ascendancy as the new voice of Lucy Pearl, Saadiq’s short-lived and muchmissed collaboration with Tribe Called Quest’s DJ Ali Shaheed Muhammad.

Saadiq returned with his southern-fried soul gem, “Still a Man.” He then opened the vaults for his other ultimate slow jam, “Lay Your Head on My Pillow,” followed by “It Never Rains,” “Anniversary,” and newer classics such as “Let’s Get Down” and “Lovin’ You.” At the close of what was a spectacular concert (which was, thankfully, more about the music than the bling-bling), I found myself wondering why someone of Saadiq’s extraordinary talent was not playing to a much bigger audience. But perhaps Saadiq will have the last laugh. Unlike so many hot-for-a-minute arena artists, Saadiq makes music that will hold up 20 years from now. We’re already still listening after 15 years.

—Kelly Spencer

Fighting Jacks The Creepy Crawl, January 18 Everyone knows the saying “If you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen,” but what happens if you can’t handle the cold? When I saw the Fighting Jacks at the Creepy Crawl last month, the band made it clear that they were out of their element. As soon as the Jacks took the stage for their 30-minute set, singer/guitarist Casey Linstrum announced that he wasn’t feeling well because he’d gotten sick from the cold weather. “We thought it would be warm here, but it was snowing, so we were bummed,” he said.

from page 15

Surely, these four indie guitar-rockers from San Jose had to be happy that the audience was quite warm and receptive, despite the cold outside. Mobs of teenagers packed into the Creepy Crawl and crowded in front of the stage, while the older crowd hid in the fenced-in area reserved for drinkers. The teenagers all seemed happy to be there and were attentive through the whole set. Many were talking and quoting the band’s lyrics, a number of which have religious messages.

Though the band’s set was short, there was no shortage of hot guitar riffs. The band burned through songs like “Some Say” and “Commons and Robbers” with plenty of energy and solid playing. Linstrum wasn’t overly animated, but seemed to capture the audience just by being onstage and playing. He did move away from the microphone at times and wasn’t frozen in place, but the audience seemed to enjoy hearing him sing as they sang along. In addition, Linstrum refrained from giving too many speeches, as he let the songs speak for themselves. The only sign that the band was a bit cold with the audience was the fact that they didn’t play any encores.

Perhaps the audience was too worked up and tired for anything longer than a 30-minute set.

Local bands Blinded Black and Richboy Falling had both played high-energy, high-volume sets, and Westcott, who also make their home in St. Louis, was so energetic and exciting that audience members had been jumping up and down as if the dance floor was a trampoline.

The Fighting Jacks may have had to fight the cold, but they certainly were greeted warmly by their fans here in St. Louis.

—John Kujawski

PATRICE PIKE AT OFF BROADWAY, JANUARY 16. Photo: JIM DUNN

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Love Is Other People Rufus Wainwright, Alone and Content

by Sean Moeller

T

o Rufus Wainwright, love is hypothetical. He can talk about it only as a fuzzy concept and as a misnomer for what’s commonly thought to be the planet’s most desirable feeling. For as the years have supplanted each other, love has been the preternatural occurrence, not the norm, for the 30-year-old New York City troubadour.

His three records, including the latest, Want One, are desperate yearnings for a chance to give the word a definition of his own, to give love a face and a heartbeat. The songs are filled with painfully sought, elaborately imagined mannequin men that never quite get to his hands or feel, with warm bare feet, the wobbly wooden floors of his apartment in the morning. But Wainwright has none of the powers of Andrew McCarthy (better known as Jonathan Switcher in 1987’s Mannequin and Larry Wilson in 1989’s Weekend at Bernie’s) in bringing those mannequins to life. They stay the imagined men of seeming intangibility.

All hope isn’t wasted for the newly clean and sober Wainwright, however, no matter how much lonelier some of his new songs sound.

Despite the helplessness emitting from Want One, Wainwright has been busy looking on the brighter side of the hunt, regarding it as having an inevitable happy ending with a most uncertain timetable. He thinks of love hitting him in a way similar to how a Cubs fan, during the first few days of spring training, won’t bounce the needle of a lie-detector test preaching that his team will get to the series that season. It’s the same blind faith that Wainwright has made a virtue of since his last record. Sure, meanness and hate exist, but love’s the nectar that everyone gets a taste of sooner or later. He’s got his eyes shut and his tongue expectantly outstretched.

“I think that there is a lot of cruelty, certainly, but that love will conquer all in the end. I think that there’s perhaps more cruelty than love, but perhaps more hope than cruelty at this point,” Wainwright said. “One of the most important things I’ve learned in the last couple years is

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about faith. I don’t mean religious faith, but it’s like religious faith. What I never realized before is that faith is not having proof that something exists. If there was proof that God existed, then there would be no such thing as faith because it requires an element of the unknown and the unattained. So I think that though there’s not a lot of concrete evidence of love, it sort of heightens my faith in love because I just have to believe that it’s there, even though it’s not apparent.

Which can be difficult but also, I think, necessary for survival.”

For Sartre, hell was other people, and for Wainwright, love is other people. But whatever, says the son of Loudon Wainwright III. He’ll rely on the deities of amor to discuss his file and determine its grand arrival. He’s relinquished all ownership of the thought that he’s in control of it.

“I think in the end, it has nothing to do with me or the other person. I do think that human beings are kind of like chess pieces that are sacrificed or glorified,” he said. “Anytime that I’ve tried to push an issue or figure out someone’s heart, it’s usually blown up in my face, so I think the best thing to do is to just shut up, realize that you have no power over the situation, and hope that the wind blows your way.”

Wainwright is made more fascinating by being one of those people that should never have a problem with love. He’s one of those beautiful creatures—with perfect hair, Oscarwinner’s teeth, and a voice that could make a songbird blush—that you can only imagine feels the pinpricks of thousands of Cupid’s biting arrows every passing day. His singleness is as hard to believe as Jennifer Love Hewitt or any other angelic female is when pouting about her love life in national magazines, saying, “Really, I never get asked out. Ever.”

I’m sure every one of us has a friend exactly like Wainwright, in character. The he or she who’s continually asking when’s it his or her turn. They want love so badly that, to hear them talk about it, makes what they’re looking

for seem as imperative as their next breath—as if not getting it will cause them to perish like a beached carp, gasping violently for the stream.

And we always think that maybe these friends of ours are too busy bellyaching that they don’t have anyone to squeeze to actually have time to find that person that will finally shut them—and their theory of being doomed to die alone—up.

In the second song off his new record, Wainwright talks about all of the questionables that I’ve heard my friends philosophically ponder after striking out for what they had no choice but to consider would be the last time. But they aren’t just blatherings that the forever lovelorn could think. They work just the same for the temporarily lovelorn, still looking, but as pessimistic as always. “I don’t know what it is/But you got to do it/I don’t know where to go/But you got to be there/I don’t know where to fall/ But I know that it’s comfortable where I don’t know where it is,” he sings in “I Don’t Know Where It Is.” It’s the not knowing where love is that makes the situation better for Wainwright. It makes it easy to be patient because there’s no other choice. And if it never comes, fuck it. “I can definitely say that if I do die without ever having a great romance or without having some longterm boyfriend for years and years and years, I’ll die a happy man because I’ve had such incredible friends around me,” he said.

“Want One” plays like a small Broadway musical fixated on the concept of beauty.

Wainwright questions the world in which we live, where men are reading fashion magazines, and for the most part, he disdains the globally held infatuation with beauty.

“I really don’t know if beauty is a curse or a blessing,” he said. “I feel that physical beauty connects to the depths of our animalistic selves, and I don’t know whether that’s good or bad or what. But it’s very confusing.”

Collected and clean-living again after a onemonth stint, in 2002, at Hazelden, the addiction treatment center in Center City, Minnesota,

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Wainwright has moved into what he describes as a “shabby-chic” apartment in the Gramercy Park area of New York City and is looking forward to hustling himself to the world and touring for two years due to a companion disc to Want One—Want Two—scheduled to be released its older brother, Want Two will be just the right record to listen to at three in the afternoon, sitting at a piano and eating a tub of ice cream.

“I think it’s a good, alone-in-themiddle-of-the-day type of a record. Or

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turn into werewolves.”

n’t know if “I really do curse or a a is y t u a e b l said. “I fee blessing,” he al beauty that physic the depths connects to s alistic selve im n a r u o f o er now wheth k ’t n o d I and or bad or d o o g ’s t a h t it’s very what. But confusing.

had it not been for his rehabbing in Minnesota.

“I was very privileged to be able to go to rehab, considering the state of America’s health care system. I mean, I could afford, it and I could also put my entire life on hold due to the type of work I’m in. And I really do feel that that is a privilege,” he said. “I was very lucky to have that type of experience. It was great, but it was very difficult. I don’t want to do it again for kicks, but I’m really happy that it happened. It was one of the defining moments of my life. I just hit a wall in terms of being able to handle my life emotionally and had, after seven years of living in hotels and touring and mainly being concerned with what the applause-meter was saying, run into a real dead-end in that department and didn’t really know how to love myself or who I was.

In terms of problems with drugs and alcohol, I think there are so many factors involved. For instance, I do think that when 9/11 happened, we were very quickly in another world and that the carefree, fly-by-night kind of attitude didn’t really cut it anymore. There was just a certain darkness that set, and for me, along with personal issues and hitting 30, the drugs and alcohol really became this intoxicating soup.

And so all those elements happened, and I think it was a great experience because I survived it, and I learned from it. So I think it all happened perfectly. I have to be optimistic. I tend to be optimistic because I know I lot of people who haven’t survived, and I just feel lucky.”

He feels lucky, whether his records sound like it or not.

PLAYBACK ST. LOUIS

NOW PLAYING CINEMA

JAPANESE STORY (Samuel Goldwyn Films, Rated R)

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In many ways, Japanese Story harkens back to Nicolas Roeg’s 1971 classic Walkabout, about two British orphans and an Australian Aborigine trying to survive in the outback. In a way, the comparison is unfair—Walkabout is colder, more impersonal, and jarring in virtually every way—but Japanese Story explores the relationship between stranded strangers and the forced friendships that emerge when survival is at stake.

Toni Collette, whom you might have seen as the loopy, suicidal mother in About a Boy, steps into the lead role gamely. As Sandy, the slightly irritable geologist charged with entertaining a Japanese businessman in hopes of forging some sort of business deal, Collette finds the right range of emotions from frustration to poise. She takes Sandy down the well-trodden path from cynical and ignorant to ultimately opening her heart, but not without some poignant moments.

Hiromitsu, played sharply by Gotaro Tsunashima, is reserved by nature and therefore mysterious. We don’t know why he wants to traipse through the Australian outback and look at rocks, only that his upbringing and life experience have inadequately prepared him for doing so.

We know that his company is large and that his cell phone range borders on the ridiculous. After first meeting Sandy, he climbs into the back seat of her car as if she’s a chauffeur, but he makes enough strides in tolerance and understanding that Hiromitsu and Sandy end up meeting each other halfway. The romance that blooms between the two is nothing you haven’t seen on any number of Animal Planet documentaries before.

The press has been explicitly forbidden from disclosing the plot twist, but this much needs mentioning: the twist is a jolting one. It changes the way we watch everything that follows, and it comes roughly halfway through the movie, leaving us with one of the more schizophrenic viewing experiences in memory. Even the pretwist pacing is a little off, with the opening sequences failing to establish the enormity of the task Sandy has before her.

Early in the relationship, we see Sandy

studying a book called The Japanese, which she hides inside a magazine. There are a few mildly humorous scenes of her and Hiromitsu learning each other’s languages. By the end, Sandy feels so emotionally invested in Hiromitsu that she patronizes anyone with the same ignorance of Japanese culture and language that she herself possessed only two days prior.

I suppose that’s the point of many crosscultural films like this—we are not supposed to walk away knowing all about a foreign culture, but instead only enough to know that we don’t know anything, and therefore, we should all be a little more sensitive and humble. Either that, or we’re supposed to walk away thinking that this has been our version of a pamphlet on the Japanese, nestled snugly under the guise of a major motion picture.

—Taylor Upchurch THE COMPANY (Sony Pictures Classics, Rated PG-13) Robert Altman’s new film, The Company, is an ambitious failure. The Company follows the world-renowned Joffrey Ballet of Chicago through a season in documentary style, but the action is all scripted. The main character, played by Neve Campbell, is a struggling dancer about to break out. Campbell is the only actor to fill a dance role; actual Joffrey members play the rest of the dancers, with actors Malcolm McDowell and James Franco filling out the cast in non-dancing roles. Pollack and Georgia screenwriter Barbara Turner reportedly spent two years observing the company while writing the script. Neve Campbell conceived the project and is given a story credit on the picture.

The irony of Campbell receiving story credit is that a story is what the film completely lacks.

The movie is a collection of scenes from a season of a dance troupe rather than a story about a dance troupe. Campbell is only the main character because she, along with McDowell, receives the most screen time, but there is no connecting storyline. Each scene is a discrete entity intended

to make a specific point—McDowell runs the company with an iron fist, older dancers must be pushed aside for young talent, Campbell is at a crossroads in her career. The point is made, often repeatedly, but never resolved.

Altman tries too hard to make this film different. He has chosen a single handheld camera shooting style. Billed as “fluid, sexy, intimate, alive,” the film is none of these. Far from fluid, the camera work recalls Curb Your Enthusiasm.

On HBO, this camera style works because the show is a dialogue- and sight gag–driven comedy. In what is supposed to be an intimate drama, the camera work only serves to separate the audience from the characters. The lack of close-ups and coverage limits the pacing and storytelling. Altman also attempts to tell the love story between Franco and Campbell with limited dialogue, but the characters don’t reveal themselves to each other, so the relationship feels like a cheap fling. Altman does not capture the giant leap from physical intimacy to emotional intimacy.

Campbell, who studied at the National Ballet of Canada, passes as a dancer, and the dancers that appear fare well with the thin script. Several performers appear for one tantrum, argument, or torn ligament, then disappear, never to be seen again. The dance scenes are beautiful, but they often seem stagy, because they are being staged for a live audience and not choreographed for the

Neve Campbell and Domingo Rubio in the stylized but storyless The Company. Photo courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.

february 2004 camera. The immediacy of a live performance cannot be translated to the screen merely by putting a camera in the audience and recording the event.

Because Altman is considered a genius and he has chosen such highbrow material, this film will unfortunately get many positive reviews. If you’re in the mood for dance, see a local dance ensemble, get to the Windy City for the Joffrey, or even rent Singin’ in the Rain, but don’t waste your time on The Company.

—Bobby Kirk THE STATEMENT (Sony Pictures Classics, Rated R) The title of Norman Jewison’s The Statement refers to a piece of paper that is supposed to be planted on Pierre Brossard’s body upon his assassination, explaining his past and why it’s okay that he’s dead. The film is dedicated to the memory of seven Jews executed in France in 1944—supposedly the execution Brossard is responsible for having overseen.

But overall, we come to view Brossard (Michael Caine, who has now appeared in over 90 films in 50 years) sympathetically, as a spiritually reformed old man who just wants to be left alone. Jewison takes an impressively evenhanded look at the issue of war crimes and their

corresponding punishments. Brossard has been a fugitive for 40 years, thanks to the Catholic Church, but a Jewish vigilante group wants the posthumous statement of culpability planted on his chest.

Fans of Caine in his spy-thriller heyday will not be disappointed when his Brossard pulls his car to a stop on a quiet country road, a seemingly doddering old man unaware that an assassin has him atop his to-do list, only to waste the poor goon at the last possible moment. There is an element of humor, probably unintentional, in Caine eluding these wannabe Bond villains, and sure enough, he can’t keep it up. We feel the noose tightening as his relationships evaporate and ultimately he falls victim to betrayal. The church, once his sanctuary, is now politically entangled in the mess and has to turn him away.

We find that his wife is no more hospitable because their relationship has been neglected and curdled several times over.

Adapted from a novel by Brian Moore, The Statement gives us three perspectives: Brossard as the hunted, the assassins with their Wile E. Coyote escapades, and the largely clueless legal investigations as a zealous judge, Tilda Swinton, and a colonel, Jeremy Northam, try to grasp the complexity of the situation. Thus, we see the plot thickening before our eyes, as the mysteri-

Michael Caine has the mojo in The Statement.

Photo courtesy Sony Pictures Classics. ous Chevaliers emerge as a major force and the media get in on the story. But the best thing in the movie is Caine, narrowing his eyes as he realizes he will have to hold his wife’s dog hostage in order to keep her from going to the police, a religious man bending his own rules to keep his head above water.

There are a few other notable goings-on, such as Swinton channeling her best Usual Suspects– era Suzy Amis and the lukewarm sexual tension between her Annemarie and Northam’s Colonel Roux. But really, this is just an interesting and fair, if long-winded, speculation on the lack of a statute of limitations for the most despicable crimes and a testament to the power of spirituality to heal the wounds.

—Taylor Upchurch

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SOUTH BY SOUTHWEST® FILM CONFERENCE + FESTIVAL

IN THE WEEKS BEFORE SXSW 2004, visit our official website (www.sxsw.com) for the latest updates and information on this year's Film Conference and Festival. For now, though, here's another sneak preview at the films lined up to roll out at SXSW:

2004 FILM FESTIVAL PREVIEWS

MARCH 12-20, 2004 AUSTIN TEXAS

BLIND HORIZON directed by Michael Haussman. In this thriller, a man (Val Kilmer) loses his memory after being shot down in New Mexico. Soon, he begins to realize that he knows more than he should about a pending assassination plot. The cast includes Neve Campbell, Sam Shepard, and Amy Smart.

Film Conference: March 12-16 Film Festival: March 12-20 ®

BUSH'S BRAIN directed by Michael Paradies Shoob & Joseph Mealey. Based on the acclaimed nonfiction book, this feature-length documentary examines the long political career of Karl Rove, one of George W. Bush's most trusted consultants. Through insightful interviews with the pundits and people Rove has affected through the years, the audience begins to learn about "the most powerful political figure America has never heard of, the Wizard of Oz behind the curtain of today's Presidential politics."

SXSW FILM PO BOX 4999 AUSTIN TX 78765 512/467-7979 fax 512/451-0754 sxsw@sxsw.com

CODE 46 directed by Michael Winterbottom. Our Opening Night film of SXSW 2004, this futuristic romance tells the story of an insurance investigator (Tim Robbins) who meets a woman (Samantha Morton) who may be more unique than he ever imagined.

DEAD & BREAKFAST directed by Matthew Leutwyler. In this entertaining return to B-movie fun and gore, a group of friends on a road trip spend the night at a bed & breakfast, only to find it terrorized by zombies. The cast includes Ever Carradine, Erik Palladino, Jeremy Sisto, Portia de Rossi, Diedrich Bader, and David Carradine.

REGISTER TO ATTEND

BY FEBRUARY 13, 2004 FOR $225 RATE. (Walkup rate is $250)

SXSW.COM

THE NEW AMERICANS produced by Steve James. The acclaimed director of Hoop Dreams will present this powerful miniseries in its entirety. It follows the lives of people immigrating to the United States and what they face when trying to become part of a nation in such political turmoil.

SLASHER directed by John Landis. After making a great career of genre films, Landis has now created a documentary following the entertaining and insightful world of used car salesmen.

PLAYBACK ST. LOUIS Play by Play

22

from page 11

blurred picture with cautious brush strokes.

“And then there was emo but that was just a phase/Because it’s all been downhill since Sunny Day Real Estate’s first record.”

“Say Hi to Your Mom is a boy named Eric. Recorded and mixed on a hand-built binary box in bedrooms in Brooklyn, NY and North Hollywood, CA,” reads the fine print on the back of the case. Unlike other “I made it in my bedroom” efforts, Say Hi to Your Mom really shines, be it one person or many. There’s more of an Interpol vibe to the disc than, say, I Am the World Trade Center, a richness, a depth that extends beyond the sounds and into the words.

“You’re super, you really are, just like your tee-ball trophy says,” Elbogen intones on “Super,” then goes on to extol the virtues of the superperson—virtues that evoke more selling out than delivering. “And what’s that saying again?” he asks to begin “Let’s Talk About Spaceships.”

“They’re only words and words can’t kill me?/But I can’t even spell them and the cadence of what she says is…well…” The song is floaty, ethereal, keystrokes mimicking the path to the stars. A driving drumbeat defines “A Kiss to Make It Better,” in which the narrator gives his number to a girl “reading something I’m sure they don’t make Books on Tape for.” Swirling ’80s sythesizers fill the headphones to close the song.

“But She Beat My High Score” tells the bittersweet, tongue-in-cheek tale of a lonely man who’s finally met the girl of his dreams—that is, until she beats him in a video game. With “I’m So Tired,” Elbogen sneaks in a pared-down Beatles cover; droning guitars elevate the refrain, demanding the listener to take notice. Closing the disc is the somber “The Key of C,” in which Elbogen tells a woman why she’ll be better off without him: “We never hung things on the wall/We played The Pixies and The Fall.”

After listening to Numbers & Mumbles, you feel you know this man, Eric, the shy boy who shuns attention, hiding behind the moniker of a band name. He prefers Nintendo to mingling, though certain people make an indelible impression on him; he finds inspiration in alternative music, though none of it, anymore, is as good as it was. And he crafts gentle, witty, and creative songs—songs to inspire a new generation.

—Laura Hamlett

to Cellar Door, you can easily tell Vanderslice is a man with a wide imagination and a writer’s talent for putting those thoughts into vivid, concise songs.

Informed by movies, current events, and his own observations, the songs straddle the line between reality and fiction.

As a writer, Vanderslice reminds me of Warren Zevon, with his allusions to murder, things gone wrong, and setbacks, but I also view him as a wholly original voice. Listening to this CD is like reading a particularly good book of short stories.

Each one is different in subject, but the voice is filled with the obvious interest and intensity of the author. The production on the album is mostly spare and that is as it should be. The focus here is Vanderslice and his lovely, wavering voice, with its tendency to reach high and then level out to a controlled fever pitch: the speed at which he appears to move most comfortably.

Each of the 12 songs offers a perfect little story with quirky lines both visual and cinematic.

“They Won’t Let Me Run” is the story of the son of a powerful family who tries to run away from his responsibilities and is dragged back, while “When It Hits My Blood” tells a tale of a drug addict stealing from his mother. A particular favorite is “My Family Tree,” in which Vanderslice reveals family memories (his own, or something he’s observed?), concisely etching family members’ stories with lines such as, “Angela, sister near, once stripper severe,/your husband Donnie is pure fear, so I stay clear.”

The album closes with the beautiful “June July.” As Vanderslice talks about walking on a battlefield from the Civil War, he delivers a meandering song so thoughtful, you almost miss his mention, almost in passing, of being struck by lightning. It just appears as—well, as a bolt of lightning. This is why I find this album so enticing. John Vanderslice makes words that are deceptively important. You need to listen to each song. You need to pull out the album art and read along as he sings. Buried not too far from the surface on many of these songs are startling admissions and lovely twists in the plots. Cellar Door offers a cast of characters that won’t soon release you from their grip. You will find yourself thinking about them long after the last track has ended, wanting to revisit them often.

—Jim Dunn

JOHN VANDERSLICE: CELLAR DOOR (Barsuk) I envy Sean Moeller, having had the opportunity to talk with John Vanderslice (“The Wit and Wonder of John Vanderslice,” January). Listening

VARIOUS ARTISTS: NIGHT TRAIN TO NASHVILLE (CMF Records) Nashville and country music, over time, have become linked inextricably, even exclusively, in

the minds of many people, but comes now a two-CD compilation designed to disprove such exclusivity by showcasing samples of Music City’s rhythm and blues from the middle third of the century just past—and that compilation’s downright delicious.

The R&B sampler in question, Night Train to Nashville, issues from CMF Records, a label of the distinguished Country Music Foundation, and comprises 35 numbers from 1945 to 1970, give or take, produced to complement an ambitious-sounding exhibit opening in March at Nashville’s Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum. Also included are three bonus tracks, among them a typically over-the-top ad spot from Little Richard and a commercial for White Rose petroleum jelly (by Earl Gaines) that just plain bops, as well as what the press kit calls “a substantial booklet” with “extensive liner notes and rare photos” (excluded, unfortunately, from the advance review material).

The selections range chronologically from Cecil Gant’s “Nashville Jumps”—a thing of blissful recording hiss and even more blissful piano—to Robert Knight’s more familiar “Everlasting Love.”

Between those two tracks appear such gems as Rudy Green & His Orchestra’s (irresistible!)

“Buzzard Pie,” the Marigolds’ “Rollin’ Stone,” Esquerita’s “Rockin’ the Joint,” a live rendition of the great Etta James’ “What’d I Say,” and Joe Henderson’s uber-cool “Snap Your Fingers,” most if not all of them recorded in Nashville.

Whether it be R&B or some other genre like country, rock ’n’ roll, or hip-hop, popular music too often embraces a ludicrously sui generis present, aspiring to the ineffable while never particularly transcending the unspeakable. For Music City in specific and pop music in general, Night Train to Nashville gloriously submits that that needn’t be the case.

—Bryan A. Hollerbach

James Crutchfield Let me take you back to night at the Venice Café six or so years ago. Outside there was snow and ice and below-zero, bone-chilling St. Louis cold. The staff was cleaning up after another night of music and merrymaking. All very routine, until they found a single Stacy Adams shoe.

There was some immediate wondering about who in their right—or drunk—mind would have walked out into the frigid cold with only one shoe. While speculations flew, there was only one person who would have—could have— walked out one shoe short. The next afternoon, working his way up the front stairs, blues legend James Crutchfield hobbled into the Venice with his shoeless prosthetic leg.

Blues pianist James Crutchfield died on December 7, 2001, of complications from heart disease, but his memory lives on at the Venice in many forms. The most tangible is the shrine installed last year. For a club that has enough eye candy to keep you busy forever, there is no missing the beautiful wood cabinet filled with Crutchfield paraphernalia. But before we go there, a little blues history.

Crutchfield was born in Baton Rouge in 1912 and arrived in St. Louis in 1948. He played with legends such as Howlin’ Wolf, Roosevelt Sykes,

Speckled Red, and Elmore James (whom he helped create Dust My Broom).

“In Memphis, TN, B.B. King would play on the right side of the street and me and Elmore played on the left side. I didn’t sing; Elmore sang. I was the piano player,” said Crutchfield (www.stlblues.net).

Having only met Crutchfield once and only witnessed him perform a handful of times, I would have a hard time explaining his style of music. So we’ll lean on the bullpen and turn it over to bass player Sharon Foehner, who played with Crutchfield during his last years.

“James played pure folk art. He comes from a time when music wasn’t as organized…not as premeditated as music today. The [Venice’s] mosaics resemble his music because you don’t get a good picture of it until you back up and look at the whole thing. It’s not just the piano or the people around him…when you back up and look at the whole picture, it all makes sense,” said Foehner.

Before the Venice became the psychedelic club we all know it as today, it was a simple artists’ residence which just happened to be the home of quite a few after-hour parties. Crutchfield was at a lot of those parties, banging away all night at the stand-up piano in the corner.

When the Venice opened its doors in 1988, it was only natural he start playing every

FROM THE CORNER

BY JEREMY SEGEL-MOSS Wednesday night (on the same piano). Funny thing…the piano faced the wall, which meant he played with his back to the audience for most of the performance. It wasn’t until 1991, when he got a new keyboard, that he could see the folks who came to see him.

James Crutchfield was a permanent fixture at the Venice while he was alive and still reigns in death. The case housing some of his memorabilia can be seen anytime the Venice’s doors are open.

It includes everything from his driver’s license, articles about his achievements, recordings, his prosthetic leg (with his brown Stacy Adams shoe), the leisure suit he wore during the late ’80s and early ’90s, and, to top it off, the original keys from the stand-up piano he banged on for years. Especially enjoy the keys his barrelhouse style of blues pounded off.

Like all folk art, the tradition didn’t stop with his passing. The memory of Crutchfield is still in the hearts of those who knew, heard, and played with him. The Wednesday blues jam has evolved into a new kind of sound featuring Bennie Smith and the Urban Blues Express. The music has changed, but the feeling of community and creativity is still there and hopefully will be forever.

23

MENTAL SEWAGE

Escape to St. Louis Last night, Josh, John, and I returned to Frederick’s Music Lounge for a free showing of John Carpenter’s 1981 film, Escape From New York. I never had any interest in the film until I discovered that the part of a dystopic, war-torn Manhattan is played by none other than downtown St. Louis. In a brief documentary shown before the film, John Carpenter recalled, “We had to find a place that looked ruined and found the perfect place in St. Louis, Missouri.” To the delight of the set designers (if no one else), fire had ravaged several blocks of abandoned buildings and closed-down factories. To add to the feel, the film crew hauled in extra trash and even set up a dismantled, burning airplane in the middle of a street at 3 a.m. Unfortunately, apart from what I suspected was a very neglected Fox Theatre, I didn’t recognize any of the buildings.

That, however, changed during a pivotal,

gladiator-style fight sequence when I observed Romanesque arches and a familiar stained-glass window in the background. My heart swelled with civic pride: this scene was shot in Union Station. Not being a native, I was unaware that, in the very early ’80s, Union Station was an empty shell, a woeful and despondent building devoid of a Sbarro, a Cardinals souvenir store, a Hard Rock Café, or even that weird shop where they make you chant for fudge samples. (Perhaps the Fudgery developed its audience-participationand-fudge business model after seeing Escape From New York—listening to a crowd of criminals inside what is now the Hyatt Regency lobby chanting ,“Snake, Snake, Snake,” somebody thought, “Hey, what if we had crowds in Union Station shouting in unison...but instead of deathmatches, they shouted about fudge?!”)

Say what you will about this city, but downtown St. Louis is looking a little less post-apocalyptic these days.

At first, I was annoyed by the music in Escape From New York, a murky, repetitive, dated synthesizer piece written by the director that sounded like the theme for an ’80s cop show (actually, it’s similar to the theme from Law & Order, which is a ’90s cop show). John, on the other hand, liked it. Josh thought it was pretty cheesy, too, but added, “It’s poignant, though. It’s like Journey; it’s so entrenched in my upbringing that I like it.”

BY JESSICA GLUCKMAN By the closing credits, however, either the music had grown on me or, knowing it’d be stuck in my head for the next day, I decided to like it at least a little bit. I hate having songs I hate stuck in my head. Who knows how many algebra tests I bungled in high school because I couldn’t purge the latest by Color Me Badd?

(Have you noticed, by the way, that nobody ever asks, “Hey, whatever happened to Color Me Badd?” At least not in my social circles.)

Speaking of bad music, on the drive home, John warned that he was going to give us our “bad song for the evening” and popped Quiet Riot’s 1983 album, Metal Health, into his tape deck. The bad song was the treacly power ballad “Thunderbird,” the chorus of which cleverly rhymed fly with sky and high. John said he’d heard that the song was dedicated to a deceased cockatiel, but according to Quiet Riot fans online, it’s a bittersweet goodbye to band member Randy Rhoades, who decamped to play for Ozzy Osbourne. I imagine after hearing “Thunderbird,” Randy didn’t much regret his decision. As bad as it was, though it’s still not the worst power ballad I’ve ever heard. That distinction belongs to Mott the Hoople’s “All the Young Dudes.” Hey, whatever happened to Mott the Hoople?

PLAYBACK ST. LOUIS

YOU ARE HERE ART REVIEW

24

I found the exhibit to be pleasant and visually pleasing, but not really Dmitry Gelfand and that interesting Evelina Domnitch and certainly not “groundbreaking” X-Ray Photographs and Prints or “iconic,” as the Kroma Contemporary Living hype would have January 16–February 21 had me believe.

Primarily a Any publicity is good publicity, right? Well, series of almost I’ve recently found that too much publicity is a identically sized xdangerous thing. For example, and I’m probably ray prints mountin the minority here, I didn’t enjoy Big Fish. It’s ed on lightboxes, possible that I would have enjoyed the movie a the work glowed lot more had I not been told over and over again with a sort of bold that this movie was Tim Burton’s triumphant authoritativeness The Kiss, Dmitry Gelfand and Evelina Domnitch. return to his earlier magnificently personal form. and had a visual I went into the movie expecting Beetlejuice or depth that drew Batman, and, well, it wasn’t either of those. people chewing on one another, not kissing. the viewer in. Antiprism and Timecone had an Left alone, I might have found Big Fish a lightly It was fascinating and definitely the standout especially interesting rhythmic depth to them. enjoyable but unchallenging father-son reconpicture in the show, but unfortunately it was But for an exhibit that was hyped as combinciliation story. But compared with my hyped-up all by itself. More pictures like this one would ing science and art, there was a noticeable lack of expectations, the movie turned out to be a rather have introduced some interesting possibilities science. I think most of us associate x-rays with milquetoast and decidedly un-Burton-esque using double entendres and visual confusion the human body or at least with the mystery of experience. Ultimately, it didn’t excite or move to tackle issues of science, visual culture, or “what’s inside.” The problem here was that the me. That’s the same way I felt with “X.” issues of mortality. As it was, there were only exhibit had few pictures that weren’t composed I decided to skip the opening reception (it three other pieces with human forms in them, solely of seashell x-rays. Now, shells are beautiwould have almost assuredly been too “hapand two of them, Pendulum Eyes and Levitating fully organic, but their beauty rests in geometric pening” for my taste) and take a look at the the Diamond Flower, were too comical and hacksimplicity, not in complexity. Introducing more work after most of the hoo-hah had died down. neyed to be very interesting. I was really looking structurally complex bioforward to some exciting human forms, but they logical objects would have just weren’t there. I understand that x-rays are increased the impact of the dangerous and shouldn’t be aimed frivolously intrinsic qualities of x-rays. at sensitive body parts, but if you’re using this Of course, in doing medium, I think that you’ve obligated yourself so, the artists would have to taking certain risks. Otherwise, you’ve squaninterfered with the symdered a great opportunity. metry in their pictures.

When it comes down to it, I enjoyed the And maybe that’s why the exhibit for what it was: filled with some beautiful exhibit was a little boring pictures, but a little boring and certainly not any to me. Symmetry in some sort of investigation into the nature of scientific of the work is beautiful, but thought or its place within our contemporary there was just too much of society. Maybe another reason I found the exhibit it. Too much of that circuless exciting than its hype was the obsolescence lar symmetry makes me feel of the medium itself. X-rays (discovered in 1895) as if I’m in the middle of a are certainly not a new scientific process, nor are Spirograph factory. We all they even a new medium of artistic expression. know that you can only The Kiss, for all of its worth, really just kept play with a Spirograph for reminding me of a Nine Inch Nails video. We all so long before it becomes, know what x-ray prints look like so, even though well…boring. Only a few of most of the pictures were beautiful, they weren’t the pieces stood out from anything groundbreaking or “ultramodern.” And this symmetrical mold, and by neglecting the obvious connection with the all of the rest started to human form, the artists drastically reduced the look…boring. effectiveness of the show. Heck, I have an x-ray The exhibit was adverof my broken toe that’s more interesting than tised with The Kiss, an most of the work here, and it even teaches a lesintriguing x-ray of two son: don’t play basketball in sandals. “skulls” kissing. Without —Joshua Cox seeing skin or lips, The Kiss looked like two Evelina Domnitch and Dmitry Gelfand; photo by Mark Katzman.

february 2004

Strolling Down Memory Lane In ancient Norse mythology, two ravens, Munin (memory) and Hugin (thought), perched on Odin’s shoulders every evening, whispering the news that they had gathered during their daily flights. Scientific studies on ravens’ intelligence aside, humans are supposed to be the only creatures able to use both memory and thought for higher purposes. Without memory, learning from successes and mistakes would be impossible. History, storytelling, and even art would not exist, all the way back to the cave painters of Lascaux, who would not have recorded their tellingly symbolic hunts. Memory and thought are the dual engines that drive us homo sapiens forward on the narrow path of humanity.

The volatile combination of these elements can make one relive long-buried horrors or smile at a golden moment that never fades, no matter how many times it is replayed. Art St. Louis now offers us a chance to experience these points of departure by presenting an exhibit entitled Dutch’s Standard Service, photograph by Greg Barth Mapping Memory. of Wildwood, Missouri.

Now there’s a problem right there, not in the title itself, but in the whole idea of the title. Every few months, ASL sends out calls to its members for art that is based on a predetermined theme, more often than not a broadly interpreted title. This leaves a lot of artists out in the cold. What if their mode of expression is abstract encaustic paintings or plein-air watercolors from Shaw’s Garden? Does one force a title—or worse yet, a subject—to fit into an upcoming show? If one has been making studies of the trees along the Current River, how would a recent piece fit into an exhibit based on board games? Is it honest to switch gears just to increase the odds of your artwork being seen by the public?

Why should it be impossible for a juror to simply choose the strongest pieces that are submitted, regardless of theme? Given the number of exhibits that ASL puts on each year, doing a free-for-all once in a while is at least worth consideration.

That said, the current exhibit gamely attempts to present this most ephemeral of psychological functions. The show actually reads quite like a map. There are plenty of pieces that serve as highways: bold, easily identified, taking you quickly from Point A to Point B, lacking surprises. Plenty of works utilized similar elements of collage: a distressed background graced with telling details, such as a child’s toy or broken horn-rimmed glasses. It seemed that there were a lot of faded photographs incorporated into larger pieces. There’s nothing wrong with this sort of work, except that when there are five or seven of them in a room, that veneer of incomparable sentimentality loses its sheen.

And then there were some works that were tiny, unmarked roads—winding, harder to decipher, but infinitely more rewarding should you venture down their paths. Elizabeth Keppel’s jacquard weaving Once in China, in shades of taupe and black, combined the venerable personalities of Chinese art with characters from a Dr. Seuss book. As the Sollo-Sollew fellow encountered inscrutable Buddhas and wild-eyed dragons, the effect was iconoclastically humorous. My mistake was in reading the artist’s statement next to the piece. Although there was nothing wrong with the statement, it is often better to leave the text unread and let the art speak for itself.

YOU ARE HERE

BY RUDY ZAPF

William Rogers’ bronze work (Cross and Lamp) is another path that leads to unmarked territory.

The juxtaposition of disparate religions is not unexplored landscape; but the strength of his material and form provides the impetus for inspection and introspection.

Thankfully, Rogers does not try to explain the deep residue of his work. By not boring visitors with a plaque detailing the historical importance of this site, he allows them the surprising vista of multiple viewpoints.

Scott Clark’s tower of small Inside, mixed media by Scott Clark of books (Memories of the Last Time St. Louis.

We Did This) is a maddening conceit. Covered in layers of wax and constructed of ceramic, the books are not meant to be opened, and yet several snippets of prose can be seen on the topmost book. The words seem to swim to the surface, trying to break through the viscous, translucent layers, gasping for clear air and light. What if the words down below are trite, or what if it really is a trick, and there are no words in these clay journals at all?

It could happen. Memories that are hidden, for whatever reason, can entice one down a reckless path. This is the sort of road that becomes a dead end. Not having a planned destination is one thing, but choosing a road that leads to nowhere—that’s an example of art imitating life much too closely.

25

PLAYBACK ST. LOUIS

CURMUDGEON

BY ROB LEVY

26

Just when you thought things couldn’t get any weirder, a new year of zany rock star antics has come to perplex and baffle us all. Even if nothing else exciting happens in 2004, we at least have bonkers/gonzo pop stars to keep us all amused. With that in mind…

Ryan Seacrest is the Antichrist.

Clay Aiken is pure evil; he dislikes cats and sings like ass.

Is there room at Guantanamo for Jessica Simpson? Her immense mental agility could come in handy there. Her singing could be used to annoy everyone and help us win the War on Terror.

I cannot even describe the inner rage that festers and consumes me over stupid reality TV. American Idol is living proof that we live in a popular culture vacuum with no hope or aspirations for benefit. The whole thing leaves me bereft of faith in humanity and in the entertainment industry.

Hey, how about making a movie that isn’t based on a comic book? Having said that, Hellboy should be pretty cool.

There is a new Weezer album coming out.

Can you smell the excitement? Never mind; I mistook the sweet odor of mediocrity for something greater.

Orgy has a new album out. Why did trees die to make this happen? Why was energy expended on such an endeavor? Does anyone still care?

If the time spent making bad rock albums could somehow be channeled into something good, like world peace, the space program, or feeding the hungry, we would all be better off.

De La Soul is releasing two albums this year.

First is Artificial Intelligence, Volume 3; the second is a yet-to-be-named new studio album.

DRAMARAMA

One of the most under-appreciated pop bands of the ’80s and ’90s was Dramarama.

They recently reformed and recorded a cover of “California Uber Alles” to “celebrate” the recent gubernatorial stuff in California. They are also working on a new album.

Gary Jules’ version of “Mad World” was a surprising Christmas #1 single in Britain. It

continues to be an almost unstoppable hit on their charts. The track, a Tears for Fears cover, gained initial notoriety from the Donnie D a r k o soundtrack.

CLAIRE DANES Wheat is an amazing band, and they are coming here on February 11 at the Gargoyle, and then again on March 16 in support of Liz Phair. Their third album, Per Second, Per Second, Per Second…Every Second, is out now on Aware Records.

With the March release of Absent Friends, song master Neil Hannon has transformed The Divine Comedy into a one-man operation.

Gomez spent most of January touring the U.S. and prepping its new album, Catch Me Up. The rights, recordings, and merchandising deals of the defunct label Grand Royal are up for public consumption. Grand Royal was the brainchild of the Beastie Boys.

Bad Religion is playing this summer’s Warped Tour.

The weird “friendly, not friendly, cool, not cool” relationship between the Dandy Warhols and The Brian Jonestown Massacre is the subject of Dig, a documentary screened at this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

The year is also scary because Hollywood is prepping What We Do Is Secret, a film about the life of Germs singer Darby Crash. Simon West has signed on to play Crash.

Rob Zombie’s cinema career is going to continue; he’s hard at work on House of 1000 Corpses 2. There will also be an album to accompany the film.

Last month, composer Danny Elfman was bestowed the Frederick Loewe Award for Career Achievement in Film Composing at the Palm Springs International Film Festival.

After obtaining lab results and further reviewing evidence, L.A. coroners have yet to declare Elliot Smith’s death a suicide. Although first reported as such, investigators maintain that either Smith or a third party could have caused the stomach wounds that took his life. A continuing review of the circumstances of his death is under way.

Congratulations to then-STL’s Story of the Year for getting a phat record deal with Maverick Records. Hopefully they won’t get stuck in the same label shenanigans that plagued other STL signees like Colony, the Urge, Stick, or Gravity Kills.

What was Ben Lee thinking, dumping Claire Danes for Jewel?

The Cure has just released a four-disc B-sides collection entitled Join the Dots. But the magic does not stop there; no siree, the band is currently working on their twelfth studio album with Korn producer Ross Robinson at the controls. It promises to be a “noisier” affair.

The Stiff Little Fingers have playing a handful of American dates this month. Song

by Song: Stiff Little Fingers, a book chronicling their work, was published last fall. The band’s 2003 album, Guitar & Drum, still awaits American release.

See You in Hell is the title of the new album from Puerto Muerto. They recently covered The Kinks’ “Alcohol” as a B-side to the lead single “Stars.”

Speaking of The Kinks, Ray Davies, one of the greatest songwriters ever, has been made a Commander of the British Empire (C.B.E.) by Queen Bess. Davies is currently recovering from a gunshot wound to the leg suffered during an attempted mugging in New Orleans last month.

Mick Harvey performs on four songs on Matter of Time, the debut CD by Bambi Lee Savage.

Mick’s pal Blixa Bargeld is back as part of his band, Einsturzende Neubauten. EN has released a new record, Perpetuum Mobile. Look for them to tour the States in the second half of 2004.

The BMG/Sony merger has the potential to be a very bad thing for music. Major labels have already owned too much of the pie for decades, and Sony/BMG will be, in effect, a monopoly.

Their merger could cause a cascading effect on BILLY BRAGG

the future of music sharing and music downloads. Not to be too Orwellian, but they will have a large hand in determining how music and music technology reach the masses.

Mercury Rev is finishing up their new album for later this year. They also have recorded a track for Chamber Music, a James Joyce–themed compilation about love in 26 stages.

Wilco has recorded around 30 songs for their new album, due this spring. In this young year of music, it is safe to say that the next Wilco album

M

february 2004

is one of the most anticipated releases in recent years.

OutKast is using the new single

by Sleepy Brown, “I Can’t Wait,” to respond to their recent legal woes with activist Rosa Parks. For the past five years, Parks and OutKast have been embroiled in a nasty lawsuit over their using her name on an album track on ROSA PARKS Aqumini. OutKast and Parks settled last month, with the duo agreeing to place information about Parks and the Civil Rights Movement on further pressings of the album. However, Sleepy’s new single is quite outspoken on this matter.

You Are the Quarry is the title of the new Morrissey album, coming out by the spring.

MORRISSEY AND FRIEND Margerine Eclipse is the just-released Stereolab album.

They tour the U.S. this spring and summer.

Hella has produced a wellcrafted burst of weirdness in Devil Isn’t Red. Billy Bragg’s new megacompilation, Must I Paint You a Picture, offers a substantial overview of the politically charged folk singer’s career. The booklet itself is pretty insightful.

RE-TG is a weekend event in Rye, England. It is an esoteric music festival being thrown by those wacky cats, Throbbing Gristle. The festival culminates with a TG reunion, but also features performances from Lydia Lunch, Coil, Matmos, Scanner, Merzbow, and Pan_Sonic.

Sammy Davis is one of the most under-appreciated personages in American popular culture. Wil Haygood’s new biography, In Black and White, chronicles his career from vaudeville to Vegas and examines his placement in the lexicon of contemporary entertainers.

And now the column descends into a rap sheet…

Meat Puppets bassist Cris Kirkwood was wounded last month in Phoenix after a scuffle with a security guard.

The weirdness and incredible off-kilterness of Michael Jackson defy words.

“Mono” is the new single from the recently rehabbed Courtney Love.

The single is available through her Web site. The release of her first solo album has been delayed indefinitely, as Love is currently awaiting trial on two counts of felony drug posCOURTNEY LOVE session.

Lastly, I hope all of you (the three or four who actually do, on occasion, read this), break all of your New Year’s resolutions with the utmost joy and glee. After all, there is no real way to keep resolutions; they are just additional mental constraints to keep us all busy. I also hope the relative malaise that is going on in popular music goes away soon and brings us a boon of better sounds!

27

Every Monday: Open Mic with Heather Barth Every Tuesday: 50¢ Domestic Draft and $2 Domestic Bottles Every Wednesday: $1 Stags

2/4:Fall City, Team Tomato 2/11: Bad Folk, The Hellfire Club 2/18: The Dogtown Allstars, TBA 2/25: Cash Gal (Carbondale IL), TBA

2.17 Confluence Magazine Benefit

w/Anna Roland, Jones Street, and Bootigrabbers Delight

Every Thursday: Jake’s Leg and $2 Dom Bottles

Every Friday: $2 Premium Pints

Drink Specials Every Night Please Call for Schedule Updates

PLAYBACK ST. LOUIS

TAKE FIVE MARITIME

On the Road With Maritime

By Sean Moeller

Two divorces made it possible for former Promise Ringers Davey Von Bohlen and Dan Didier and former Dismemberment Plan bassist Eric Axelson to hop in a van together, hitting clubs and bars across the nation as the new supergroup Maritime. October marked the oneyear anniversary of TPR’s breakup. The Plan called it quits this past summer with a final tour. Loaded with a satchel of new songs—to be released on an unknown label in the early spring—Von Bohlen sounds better than he’s ever sounded. He sat down at a tour stop in Iowa City to talk about the new group, java, and what it was like to have a fist-sized tumor in his head.

Have you always liked coffee?

No, no, no. Most of the alternative kids in high school were drinking coffee because it was like, “Oh, we go out and drink coffee and discuss.” I didn’t do that; that’s never occurred to me. Let’s just convene. I want to have a night’s sleep, and then we’ll talk about it in the morning.

Elliot Goes

You’ve had some problems with your voice on tour. What do you do to remedy it?

I stopped thinking about it. When I was babying my voice, it was crap. Now, I have a few beers, and it seems to be fine, as long as I avoid smoking. I just don’t have a really strong voice; I can’t project as well as most people, so on those nights where the sound system’s kind of weak or the monitors aren’t really pumping the heat, I have to over-sing. If I have a few of those in a row, my voice will be kind of tired. As long as I can make noise, I’ll sing. It’s not like I’m Diana Ross as it is. It’s not a huge deal.

Was there an arrangement made to use the title Nothing Feels Good for Andy Greenwald’s book on emo (taken from the 1997 TPR record of the same name)?

[Reviewed this issue on page 32.]

Yeah. The guy wrote the label, or he e-mailed somebody, and it got forwarded to us, and it said, basically, that these are nondescript words.

“Nothing,” “feels,” and “good” don’t need to be...in the law world, no matter what the arrangement of those words, it doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Whatever. So I don’t think there was any legal obligation. I’ve never been a

money bloodhound as it is. I’m never like, “How can I make money from this?” All I would have said, even if there were legal issues, would have been, “Hey, why don’t you give us some bucks?”

Which is what he’s going to do anyway.

When you had the tumor (removed in May 2000), you said you had a headache every day for a year and a half. How else did the tumor affect you?

It numbs you. If I had that pain right away, I’d be like, “Holy...something’s wrong.” But having it come on so slowly really makes you doubt that something’s really that bad. If I bumped into somebody, my whole spine would crack, all the way down to DAVEY BOHLEN the bottom. And it PHOTO: TODD RUGER would be incredibly painful; I couldn’t wear a baseball hat.

Those are really the only two indicators that something was wrong. When they told me, I was happy.

I think anyone would be really relieved to be validated. All this horrible feeling you’re having has a name and a solution.

Everyone else seemed devastated, but I was like, “Yesss! Let’s fix it.”

by Bosco (with illustration help from Jessica Gluckman)

www.mentalsewage.com

28

What does Maritime do better than the Promise Ring, musically or socially?

That’s a good question; I don’t know yet.

Promise Ring got both really good and really bad, both socially and musically, I think. We started, and we were good socially and bad musically, and then we were good musically and then less...not bad, but less good socially. So Promise Ring is both as high as I can imagine it and as low. This band’s too young to really know if we’ll exceed. It certainly feels good. The music’s so young, I’m not really sure what it is yet. Socially, there’s definitely a less passive dynamic.

I’m not a black coffee person, and I don’t think I ever will be. I’d like to think that’s not where I’d like to end up as a coffee drinker. I think probably touring all the time and getting in at 3:30 or 4 [a.m.] and having to wake up at 7 or 8 and drive ten hours to Salt Lake City or wherever—that will get you into the coffee mode where you’re just like, “I gotta have something.”

Valentine’s Day: the perfect opportunity to reach out to a secret crush.

You can take the time to tell someone how much they mean to you.

Or, like Bosco, send a Valentine to someone you really admire.

www.mentalsewage.com

february 2004

29

PLAYBACK ST. LOUIS

LOCAL SCENERY

30

Red Eyed Driver is the name of the new project from Bryan Hoskins (ex-TripStar) and Andy Patania (Dead Letter Drop). Hoskins writes the songs, and both he and Patania sing and play (Hoskins on guitar, Patania on keys).

They’re billing themselves as a two-man band, though they haven’t ruled out the possibility of additional players in the future.

Raven Moon has been asked to open for the premier country swing band Asleep at the Wheel for two shows at Generations, February 24 and 25.

The last remaining Wherehouse Music at Hampton and Chippewa received its death notice shortly before the new year. What followed were thousands of letters of support, begging corporate to keep the location open. Who knew…the campaign worked! Visit the store, and tell them how much you love them.

2 Many Stylz is emerging as the next big thing in St. Louis. They are the only unsigned act to ever be played on the Top 40 station Z107.7 in the station’s history (six years), as their song “All About the Money” beat Blink-182 in the station’s head-to-head competition, “Big Ass Battle.”

Curtis has teamed up with producer da’Myksta to finish recording his debut album; two singles (“Flame” and “Ecstasy”) have already been released. Look for a planned drop this spring.

His live performance and lyrical improvisation are two elements that separate self-described hip-hop impresario T-Menace from other rap artists. Currently recording and playing as many showcases as possible, Menace will release a fulllength CD on Federal Reserve Music in 2004.

Andy Conrad’s T-MENACE (ex-Colony) new trio, The Bellheads, are in the early stages of rehearsing the material on his solo CD, Artificial Junk, as well as older and newer material

by Conrad. Look for them to take their show into the clubs in the not-too-distant future. Artificial Junk is available for purchase at Wherehouse Music (Hampton & Chippewa) or online at cdbaby.com.

6 started 2004 on a creative note. Paying tribute to Reservoir Dogs at their January 5 show at Pop’s, the group reenacted a scene from the film.

Keyboardist Gage provided audio samples from the movie along with his playing.

Clatter has now officially logged over 20,000 miles’ worth of touring around the U.S., proof that you can grow up in Missouri, not eat meat, and still have energy.

Former Frederick’s Music Lounge doorman and vocalist/guitarist Josh Wiese (ex–Rodeo Soul) has formed Lost to Metric with guitarist Erik Seaver (ex-Keyop, Five Deadly Venoms), drummer Sam Meyer (In Media Res), and bassist Neil Simpson. According to Wiese, Lost to Metric is a rock band, but he admits some listeners say the sound leans more toward math rock.

The band’s goal, he says, is simple: record, play 35-minute sets, and tour. Catch their first show on February 3 at Frederick’s, when they open for Bibowats.

Volume martyrs Shame Club continue to gig and raise money for the production of their forthcoming CD, Volume. To raise money, they’ll be playing a special show Friday, March 12, at the HiPointe Café: an entire set of songs by the Who. The show will be sponsored by Jagermeister, so you can party like you’re Keith Moon.

Local novelist Susan McBride has published her third book, Blue Blood, her first Debutante Dropout Mystery. She’ll be giving two signings this month: 7 p.m. February 4 at Borders in Brentwood and 1 p.m. February 14 at Big Sleep Books in the Central West End. Panic Attack has been sequestered in the recording studio. The band reports that the recordings are coming along quite well, so be prepared for an EP sometime early this year. These are the band’s first recordings with Greg Coan on bass guitar. Catch Panic Attack at a big local show February 20 at Mississippi Nights, when they’ll play alongside Mindrive, Sofachrome, and Missile Silo Suite.

On Saturday, February 21, Pop’s presents the Midwest Monsters of Metal Showcase II, presented by Scream Productions and sponsored

by Jagermeister and Guitar Center. The showcase will feature Jager girls, unsigned metal bands from St. Louis and around the U.S., and a chance for bands to network, merchant booths, metal Web sites, tapings for TV shows in St. Louis and Tennessee, and more.

In late 2003 and early 2004, Urban Jazz Naturals released a number of new dance singles with remixes by top DJ/producers such as JT Donaldson, Rithma, and Joshua. The JT Donaldson remix of UJN’s “How Can I” is currently getting promotional play in the U.S. and abroad. Additionally, the promo version of “How Can I” has already charted with many of the top DJs around the globe.

Correction: contrary to what we reported in our December profile of Mary Alice Wood, the songstress did not design her own Web

site. It was designed by local artist Ben Kaplan at Act 3: Designing the Story. Both Wood and Kaplan creative directed, but Kaplan did the overall design.

Visualizing Black Writers: An Extra-Literary Exhibit from the Eugene B. Redmond Collection, runs the month of February at the Morris University Center Art Gallery, Southern Illinois University – Edwardsville. The exhibit emphasizes the artistic and educational dimensions of cultural artifacts relating to African American writers. An opening reception will be held February 8 at 2 p.m.

Venus Envy seeks women from all backgrounds and experiences to submit proposals in any visual arts medium for the 2004 St. Louis exhibition. All women living within a 300-mile radius of St. Louis are encouraged to submit, and everyone is invited to attend and participate at the sixth annual event on April 10.

Entries must be received by February 16. To submit, download the printable application form from the Venus Envy Web site at www.venusenvy.org, or call 314-865-0181.

According to their bio, Jones Street writes and performs with an honest voice born out of the local open mic scene, gaining both momentum (and band members) with each performance.

The band has developed a steady fan base with regular shows at Pat’s in Dogtown. As the new year kicks off, the quintet plans to begin work on a much-anticipated first CD. Gassoff has found a Dead Celebrity to record their first CD. Guitarist Elvis Kennedy of the Dead Celebrities has been recording local bands, and Gassoff has just been added to the list.

The Banana Bike Brigade’s 5th Annual Banana Ball takes place this year on Valentine’s Day at the South Broadway Athletic Club. Entertainment will be provided by The Garbanzos and St. Louis’s own Swing Set. Tickets: $15 advance, $20 door; with a costume contest at 8:30. More info: www.bananabikebrigade.com.

Don’t miss OneMovie: First Cut, a concert to benefit AIDS orphans in Africa, with Sozo Rox, Object Permanence, and Sasha. OneMovie takes place February 6 at 7 p.m. at Kirkwood Road Christian Church.

Tickets are $8, available at the door or online at www.onemovie.org.

LISA HUFFMAN OF PANIC ATTACK

february 2004

NOW PLAYING

Fully Committed

THEATER

The Washington Avenue Players Project at the ArtLoft Theatre 1529 Washington Avenue January 8–24 One man, 40 characters, and hundreds of laughs. Todd Schaefer, artistic director of the Washington Avenue Players Project (WAPP), brings Becky Mode’s hilarious one-man play, Fully Committed, to the ArtLoft Theatre. Schaefer plays Sam, who, while struggling to make it as an actor, takes reservations at a trendy New York restaurant, and all of the preposterous characters Sam must deal with during the course of the day.

Sam’s day is highlighted by humor, melancholy, disasters, and the occasional triumph.

The writing is tremendous. Not only does Mode create several memorable characters, but also she develops a story. Keeping Sam from attaining his goals, Mode creates conflict and tension. Sam has simple goals (getting home for Christmas), larger goals (starting his acting career), and transcendent goals (earning selfrespect). Throughout the day, these goals are alternately thwarted and realized. Sam’s triumphs are generally connected to his change in attitude.

Mode’s genius is to give Sam an arc, taking the character and the audience on a journey without ever leaving Sam’s cluttered basement office. Sam

learns things about the world and himself, then uses those lessons to improve his lot in life.

Schaefer does a brilliant job in Mode’s challenging work. He slips seamlessly from one character to another, using not only his voice but his entire body to create the menagerie of characters.

Inhabiting one character successfully is an acting challenge; here, Schaefer inhabits dozens, but what takes the performance to the next level is his energy. Schaefer is manic, moving about the stage, creating the chaos of Sam’s life. His energy is never forced, because he is able to rein it in for the quieter moments and calmer characters. His business flows organically. In Schaefer’s hands, Sam’s transformation is subtle. Sam learns a life lesson—not a heavy-handed Sex and the City/ Doogie Howser, M.D. lesson, but a laugh-toohard-and-you-might-miss-it lesson.

U.K. SUBS: PUNK CAN TAKE IT (Music Video Distributors) It is difficult to suss out punk rock videos or DVDs because there are so many knock-off documentaries and compilations out there.

Oftentimes, you pay for a bunch of hastily thrown-together videos or grainy concert footage. Having said that, I approached Punk Can Take It with trepidation. While I expected it to appease punk fans and U.K. Subs aficionados, I was not expecting a vivid, visceral look at the gloomy British culture of the waning 1970s.

Punk Can Take It was filmed by rock lensman Julian Temple (Absolute Beginners, Earth Girls Are Easy). Temple’s previous dips into punk include 1980’s Great Rock & Roll Swindle and the Sex Pistols documentary The Filth & the Fury (2000). Both films captured the raw essence and rebellion of punk and the atmosphere of a youth disillusioned by on-the-dole Britain. Temple’s skill lies in his astute filming of raucous crowds,

rowdy bands, and frantic anarchy. Punk Can Take It joins his earlier films in chronicling U.K. punk in the late ’70s.

Filmed in 1979, this 30-minute faux war documentary chronicles the battle between “real punks” and those capitalists and elitists who wanted to steer punk in more commercial directions. As Temple illustrates, late ’70s punk rock was riding a crest of invigoration, revenge, and courage. It was an all-out class war, a social statement of style, fashion, and attitude. Punk Can Take It highlights this struggle.

The real stars here are the U.K. Subs, the first punk band to break out of South London with any real success. They wrote three-chord powerhouse classics like “Tomorrow’s Girls” and “Stranglehold.” Live, the foursome was a force to be reckoned with. Throughout their twodecade history, they remained relevant with their spurious, pounding mix of fast and loud guitars, chaotic percussion, and the raw and nervy vocals of Charlie Harper. This film captures the band in top form using a gritty 1979 Lyceum concert as a musical respite interspersed between documentary narratives.

The U.K. Subs succeeded the same way many of their contemporaries did: through sheer will and determination. They helped spawn a youth

TODD SCHAEFER: ONE MAN, FULLY COMMITTED

The stage design is wonderful. Sam’s office embodies the futility of his position. The cluttered space looks lived-in and provides the requisite props to facilitate Schaefer’s energetic performance. Surprisingly, the lighting design changes often. Each character is bathed in appropriate light, and lighting designer Christopher Clark mirrors Schaefer’s seamless transformations perfectly. Pat Murphy provides excellent support with the sound design. It is difficult to separate the directing from acting in a one-man play, but Schaefer’s success in a demanding role speaks well for Brian Claussen in his directorial debut.

I would be remiss if I did not mention Schaefer’s loss of character on the night I saw the play. He lost his way and had to leave the stage to gather himself about halfway through. This is a major misstep, but I still enjoyed the performance, and his energy pulled me right back in. I hope this is the exception and not the rule for Schaefer during this run. I also hope that this will not scare off audiences, because this is a wonderfully amusing piece executed spectacularly by its cast and crew.

—Bobby Kirk

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NOW PLAYING DVD

culture filled with a distempered warlike fervor against authority, the upper class, the wealthy, and the royal. Julian Temple captured the band when they were still in top form.

The documentary itself is quite amusing. Stylistically, it resembles a BBC wartime documentary. For this war story, Temple even enlisted the BBC’s Voice of the Blitz, John Snagge.

Snagge’s narrative depicts England’s punk youth as victims under siege from a bombardment of tyranny and assimilation. As he so eloquently puts it, “Those that can fight, will fight.”

Besides featuring the overlooked U.K. Subs, Punk Can Take It offers a great recorded social history of the British punk movement. This was a time of anti-nostalgia, poverty, anger, labor strife, unemployment, and frustration. Temple documents this era, amalgamating it with the U.K. Subs’ music. There are also some nice extras to round out the DVD, including a photographic history of the U.K. Subs and an informative tour of band memorabilia by guitarist Paul Slack.

—Rob Levy

PAGE BY PAGE BOOKS

A Bloody Riot DBC PIERRE: VERNON GOD LITTLE (Canongate) Let’s say you left last year’s Gus Van Sant movie Elephant—the eerie, elliptical, strangely moving take on a Columbine-like massacre at the hands of the picked-on and fedup, and armed—and thought, “Geez, I’d love to see that sad topic taken on with less sensitivity and more…humor?” Here’s your chance. DBC Pierre’s debut novel, Vernon God Little, the surprise winner of last year’s Man Booker Prize, is a satiric, comic, even raunchy take on such an event, this time at the hands of a picked-on, fed-up, armed boy named Jesus Navarro, whose few friends included Vernon Gregory Little, our narrator and something of a potty-mouthed Huck Finn with a panty fetish.

Here’s 15-year-old Vernon, shortly after being interrogated as a potential accessory to the murder: “I’m studying this whole tragedy routine, in back of my jellified brain…Saw-teeth of damnation I feel just thinking it, waiting for fiery hounds to unleash mastications and puke my fucken soul to hell. But at the same time, here’s me with water in my eyes, for Max, for all my classmates. The truth is a corrosive thing.

It’s like everybody who used to cuss the dead is now lining up to say what perfect angels of God they were. What I’m learning is the world laughs through its ass every day, then just lies doubletime when shit goes down. It’s like we’re on a Pritikin diet of fucken lies. I mean—what kind of fucken life is this?”

Life in Matirio, Texas, is ridiculous, unpleasant, dumbed-down, and slapstick funny, though sometimes in an unsurprising, stock-character way. The women swap diet plans and longingly watch shows about ten-year-old millionaires, while the men pull schemes and reveal their shadiness with steady frequency. Even more frequent are both sexes’ sauce-soaked trips to the Bar-B-Chew Barn, the closest thing Matirio

has to a town square (and proud sponsor of the post-massacre find-the-gun contest).

The phrase “sluggish frenzy” is used by Vernon to describe the feeling inside one of the town’s market-carnival tents, and it’s a phrase that works for the whole book. After the widely covered tragedy, Matirio begins to buzz, with inept attorneys and news crews and police chiefs all fumbling about as if, pre-shooting, they’d never done much of anything.

The town’s coming down hard on Vernon, and with Jesus dead, the boy can’t seem to find a way to prove his innocence. (He could, but he’d have to admit he was outside the school at the time of the shooting, taking an outdoor crap. This is that kind of book.) Surrounded by a helpless mom whose only pretrial advice is that “famous actors put toothpaste under their eyes to help them cry” and an indifferent, slimy newsman blowing bubbles like “[How] do we heal America?,” Vernon makes a decision: “If this is how much of an asshole everybody’s going to be, about such a devastating fucken issue, then I better get the hell out of town.”

Which he does. And because the novel is a fugitive-type tale, I’ll keep the plot details few and just say that before the book’s last section (complete with a Big Brother–style trial and prison scene, the reference no longer Orwellian, just Prime Timeian), Vernon’s able to spend some quality time with his major crush, Taylor Figueroa, of whom he daydreams wearing “blue synthetic panties that strain hard into her thighvee, and glow dirty ripe.”

Pierre’s language in this novel, however limited and puerile-sounding, works. With a dirty-joke vividness, his narrator gives greasy life to everything that surrounds him: “Deputy Gurie tears a strip of meat from a bone; it flaps through her lips like a shit taken backwards”; his mom’s equally helpless friends “foam out of the car like suds from a sitcom washing machine…”; the Burt Bacharach record his mom adores is “all tappetty-shucksy, bubbly silk pie…[a] typical stroke-job of music lies.”

This first-time author’s achievement with Vernon God Little is not one of plot or even ideas, but one of language and description, in capturing Vernon’s own authentic voice

throughout the book (he tries to quit cussing, just like Huck). This isn’t, and isn’t meant to be, a penetrating look at adolescent rage. Instead, it’s a creative work that succeeds in its ability to remain exactly what it is—funny, ridiculous, lewd, so entirely dissimilar from what the subject seems to demand. And whenever the author inches dangerously closer to grappling with a Big Idea—with the reader wondering if the book’s just been a sauce-smothered morality lesson—good old Vernon, perfectly himself, reigns us back into the book’s sweaty, simple reality.

“The Human Condition,” he tells us. “Watch out for that fucker.”

—Stephen Schenkenberg ANDY GREENWALD: NOTHING FEELS GOOD: PUNK ROCK, TEENAGERS, AND EMO (St. Martin’s Griffin) It takes one to know one, and Andy Greenwald is one— specifically, one of the oft-maligned emo kids around which this book centers.

Sure, the music writer’s well past his teenage years, but he’s close enough in age to his subjects that a group of 16- and 17year-old Dashboard Confessional junkies from Long Island will think nothing of picking him up at the subway station to share a show with him. And the senior contributing writer for Spin gets his seniority and his recognized expertise in being just old enough to have appreciated the world’s first emo bands when they were popping up in the mid-’80s and early ’90s.

Nothing Feels Good follows Greenwald’s time on tour with Jimmy Eat World and Dashboard, his take on bands such as Weezer, Jawbreaker, and the Getup Kids, and his countless hours logged with instant-messaging teens whose music-saved-my-life stories he links to the bands creating the music. In the process, Greenwald provides a recap of the pioneers of emo (Braid, Minor Threat, Rites of Spring, Fugazi) as well

february 2004 as dissections of notable emo labels (Jade Tree, Vagrant, Drive-Thru, Discord).

Blender called this book a Catcher in the Rye of sorts, but the sloppy comparison doesn’t really get a finger on the pulse of the book. It’s neither a plea for help nor an admonishment of societal faults, just simply Greenwald’s deft way of showing how the book’s lost youths aren’t lost any longer, because of the music.

Nothing Feels Good flows like one of Greenwald’s magazine articles: interesting in its entirety and filled with large block quotes as the meat of the stew. His reflections and the offerings from LiveJournal writers, music publicists, A&R reps, and the artists themselves are strong and go far in bringing all of the material together.

After a quotation expressed the thought that the early emo bands worked because of their honesty and reluctance to be seen as more than people with regular feelings, Greenwald described their approach as “a combination of self-important and painfully shy, regressive and humble—kind of like a deaf-mute in a tuxedo.” He nails through the aggrandizing bullshit that accompanies a lot of the over-the-top statements and irons out the crinkles he’s been able to identify in his own fervor for guys like Dashboard’s Chris Carrabba.

When the subject matter happens to be born of the heart, as emo is, having its history transcribed by the closest thing the genre has to a cardiologist seems about right. Greenwald could very well be that cover model wearing the black wristband, blue jeans, and skin-tight red T-shirt.

I like to think he is.

—Sean Moeller

Soon to be reviewed in “Page by Page”: Elizabeth Robinson’s The True and Outstanding Adventures of the Hunt Sisters; Kurt Wenzel’s Gotham Tragic; Rebecca Brown’s The End of Youth; and Jacques Jouet’s Mountain R.

Continuum Publishing’s 33-1/3 Series: Takes on Albums That Changed Lives ANDY MILLER: THE KINKS ARE THE VILLAGE GREEN PRESERVATION SOCIETY For years, music geeks have doggedly pursued in-depth features about their favorite albums in magazines like Mojo and Rolling Stone, usually finding, if they’re lucky, three or four pages of superficial observations and trite interviews, written by some jaded, and too often completely uninterested, magazine hack.

Now, thanks to the good people behind the new 33-1/3 book series, said music geeks can kick back and devour these lovingly packaged and painstakingly researched gems, each slim volume dedicated entirely to a specific “classic” album. The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society by Andy Miller is a Kinks fan’s dream come true: 140 pages exhaustively detailing the inner turmoil and explosive genius that created my favorite Kinks album. Holy shit! You bet I’m happy. Mojo who?

Village was the Kinks’ first (and, some would argue, only) true masterpiece, the record that was ignored on its initial release, now revered as one of the best British recordings ever, all detailed in a serious but unpretentious narrative about a band combusting at their artistic peak. After this brilliant apex, the Kinks of the ’60s more or less ended, mutating in the ’70s into an arena rock band. A casual fan might not be as interested in this kind of minutia, no matter how well Miller tells the story.

These lovely books are for us geeks. Reading this book had precisely the intended effect on me: I’m thumbing through my Kinks records, listening with new ears to Village Green while patiently awaiting a book on XTC’s English Settlement. Or The Zombies’ Odessey & Oracle.

Or Squeeze’s Argy Bargy. Or...

—Brian McClelland

ANDREW HULTKRANS: FOREVER CHANGES After almost 40 years, Love’s Forever Changes remains an album that is widely regarded as one of the benchmarks of ‘60s psychedelic rock. Yet the album’s texture remains synonymous with mystery, uncertainty, and chaos. The album has influenced everyone from Julian Cope to The Damned to Neil Young. Love’s much-lauded, much-interpreted masterpiece, Forever Changes, has once again been put under the critical microscope. This go ’round, though, the exposition is often excruciatingly philosophical.

Hultkrans’ thesis is simple: Forever Changes’ greatness lay in the fact that vocalist Arthur Lee was a paranoid genius, convinced he was going to die. He argues that Lee, a citizen of L.A. at the height of the racially tense Summer of Love, lived a life of isolation propelled by intense paranoia.

Depression, drug use, and social conflict are also suggested as possible causes for the temperamental and ultimately fatal relationship between the members of Love.

Overall, Hultkrans has penned an enjoyable, quick read about one of rock’s enduringly charming albums. However, he spends way too much time exploring the motives and psyche of Arthur Lee and quoting outside sources, such as Virginia Woolf and Thomas Pynchon. In return, there are hardly any details about how this record was written and created, nor is there much on the four other members of Love. In the end, the album Forever Changes remains a brilliant psychedelic enigma, shrouded in a veil of paranoid hallucinogenic isolation.

—Rob Levy Read reviews of other 33-1/3 books online at www.playbackstl.com.

33

BB’S JAZZ, BLUES & SOUPS

YUN-FEI JI: THE EMPTY CITY CONTEMPORARY ART MUSEUM ST. LOUIS NOW THROUGH MARCH 28 314-535-4660 • www.contemporarystl.com

On January 23, the Contemporary Art Museum St. Louis opened The Empty City by the Chinese artist Yun-Fei Ji. Appearing at first glance to be traditional landscapes of mist-filled valleys and craggy mountains, Ji’s work turns the tradition on its side and gives it a good hosing. The mists part to reveal toxic clouds, polluted waters, machine parts, caricatured people, violent floods, pools of garbage. The many layers of imagery swirl together in a soup of history and space, flavored with traumatic change and stirred until their meaning becomes ambiguous.

Although his work seems to be a condemnation of modern culture’s war against nature, Ji is not one to define his work as such. “Everything is changing 34 so fast. [Changes] are good and bad, I think, but I’m more interested in what it’s like living through this experience.”

It is actually his concern for China’s landscape and culture that imposes the destructive nature of progress into his works—in particular, the construction of the Three Gorges Dam and the havoc it will wreak upon a great swath of land surrounding the Yangzte River. As the largest dam in the world, it will destroy 1,500 villages when completed, displacing lives, flora, and fauna. Ji, born in 1963, grew up during China’s feeling of high progress.

According to him, his father’s generation felt they were building an amazing utopia through socialism. But by the time Ji was an adult, the cultural revolution had shaken everybody. “They were so disillusioned,” he says.

If Ji’s views on Chinese politics and culture are complex, his visual style is equally so. His paintings reflect his training in the classical landscape tradition, as does his choice of materials. Yet in his choices of handmade mulberry paper and muted ink washes, one can find the influence of Jan Brueghel and Robert Crumb as well as Chinese predecessors.

Ji’s work was featured in the 2002 biennial at the Whitney Museum, and he has received grants from the Pollack-Krasner Foundation and the New York Foundation for the Arts.

After St. Louis, The Empty City will travel to the Pierogi Gallery in Brooklyn and finally to the Rose Art Museum of Brandeis University. Don’t miss your chance to see it while it’s here. —Rudy Zapf

700 S. Broadway • St. Louis, MO 314-436-5222 • www.bbsjazzbluessoups.com 2/1: 7 pm: Leroy Pierson; 9 pm: DJ Ranx & Dubtronix Reggae 2/2: Sessions Big Band 2/3: Lisa Campbell & Tim Albert, Cryin’ Shame Blues Band 2/4: Alvin Jett & the Phat noIZ Blues Band 2/5: Johnnie Johnson Band 2/6: Leroy Pierson, Arthur Williams Blues Band 2/7: Tom Hall, Bennie Smith & the Urban Blues Express 2/8: 7 pm: Leroy Pierson; 9 pm: DJ Ranx & Dubtronix Reggae Band 2/9: Sessions Jazz Big Band 2/10: Cryin’ Shame Blues Band 2/11: Baker McClaren Blues Band 2/12: Oliver Sain’s R&B All-Stars 2/13: 7 pm: Leroy Pierson; 10 pm: The Bel Airs 2/14: 7 pm: Eric McSpadden & Margaret Bianchetta; 9 pm: Alvin Jett Blues Band; 10:30 pm: Roy Gaines Blues Band 2/15: 7 pm: Leroy Pierson; 9 pm: DJ Ranx & Dubtronix Reggae Band 2/16: Sessions Jazz Big Band 2/17: Cryin’ Shame Blues Band 2/18: Alvin Jett & the Phat noIZ Blues Band 2/19: Johnnie Johnson Band 2/10: 7 pm: Leroy Pierson; 10 pm: Soulard Blues Band 2/21: 7 pm: The Fabulous Foehners; 10 pm: Bennie Smith & Urban Blues Express 2/22: 7 pm: Leroy Pierson; 8:30 pm: Murder City Players 2/23: Sessions Jazz Big Band 2/24: Cryin’ Shame Blues Band 2/25: Baker McClaren Blues Band 2/26: Oliver Sain’s R&B All-Stars 2/27: 7 pm: Leroy Pierson; 10 pm: Arthur Williams Blues Masters 2/28: 7 pm: Tom Hall; 10 pm: Pennsylvania Slim Blues Band 2/29: STLBlues concert

BLUE NOTE 17 N. 9th St. • Columbia, MO 573-874-1944 • www.thebluenote.com 2/6: Another Kind of Blue: The Latin Side of Miles 2/7: The Schwag, Pepperland 2/12: Rascal Flatts w/Chris Cagle @ Hearnes Center 2/13: The Urge 2/14: Har Mar Superstar, Mah Jongg, People’s Republic of Klezmerica 2/19: Super Furry Animals 2/26: Yonder Mountain String Band 2/27: Henry Rollins: Spoken Word 2/29: Galactic, Mike Doughty

BLUEBERRY HILL 6504 Delmar Blvd. • University City, MO 314-727-0880 • www.blueberryhill.com 2/4: Drive-by Truckers 2/5: Split Lip Rayfield 2/7: Just Add Water 2/13: Todd Snider 2/14: The Pat Liston Band 2/17: Poi Dog Pondering 2/18: Chuck Berry 2/19: Robben Ford

BRANDT’S 6525 Delmar Blvd. • University City, MO 314-727-3663 • http://brandtscafe.com 2/1: Tim Garcia, Last Missouri Exit 2/2: Georgy Rock with Mr. Dill 2/3: Bosch, Gokenbach & Gough Jazz Trio 2/15: Natural Bridge

BROADWAY OYSTER BAR 736 S. Broadway • St. Louis, MO (314) 621-8811 • www.broadwayoysterbar.com 2/2: Soulard Blues Band 2/3: Big Bamou

SOMETHING TO GET EXCITED ABOUT VOLCANO, I’M STILL EXCITED!! at the ROCKET BAR February 11, 8:30 p.m., 18+ CALL: 314-588-0055 “Hey, what’s this Volcano, I’m Still Excited!! sound like?”

“Like Jonathan Richman with an organ...”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

“With a little bit of early Cars, early Elvis Costello, early Cure, Stereolab, Spoon, the Walkmen, Wilco, Mates of State, Death Cab for Cutie, They Might Be Giants, XTC, Hot Hot Heat—“ “Um, what I really wanted to know is: should I go to their show?”

“Yes, you should!” —Jessica Gluckman 2/4: Mojo Syndrome 2/5: Bennie Smith & the Urban Blues Express 2/6: Zydeco Crawdaddies 2/7: Hudson & the Hoo Doo Cats 2/8: 3 pm: Rich McDonough Band; 8 pm: Matt Murdick 2/9: Soulard Blues Band 2/10: Big Bamou 2/11: Bottoms Up Blues Gang 2/12: Bennie Smith & the Urban Blues Express 2/13: Dangerous Kitchen 2/14: Jake’s Leg 2/15: 3 pm: Melissa Neels Band; 8 pm: Tom Hall 2/16: Soulard Blues Band 2/17: Big Bamou 2/18: Mark Moore & the Smokers 2/19: Bennie Smith & the Urban Blues Express 2/20: Naked Groove & Impala Deluxe 2/21: Dangerous Kitchen, Gumbohead, Dash Rip Rock 2/22: 3 pm: Radioking; 8 pm: Johnny Fox 2/23: Soulard Blues Band 2/24: Big Bamou 2/25: Hip Grease 2/26: Bennie Smith & the Urban Blues Express 2/27: David Dee & the Hot Tracks 2/28: Albert & the Einsteins 2/29: 3 pm: Billy Barnett Band; 8 pm: Mike Newman

CICERO’S 6691 Delmar Blvd. • University City, MO 314-862-0009 • www.ciceros-stl.com 2/1: Afternoon show: Brooklyn Deadwood w/Crescent Moon Connection 2/2: Madahoochi & friends 2/3: Kind Tuesdays w/the Schwag 2/4: Alisdair & Form Follows Failure 2/5: Mountain of Venus w/Buddy Roe 2/6: Jake’s Leg

2/7: Brother Bagman w/Riker’s Mailbox 2/8: Afternoon show: Parkridge 2/9: Madahoochi & friends 2/10: Kind Tuesdays w/the Schwag 2/12: Debasser & Treif 2/13: Jake’s Leg 2/14: Buddha’s Belly w/Hazard to ya Booty 2/15: Afternoon show: Blinded Black 2/16: Madahoochi & friends 2/17: Kind Tuesdays w/the Schwag 2/18: Know Boundaries, eKe, Hip Grease 2/19: Naked Groove 2/20: Jake’s Leg 2/21: The Station w/Crescent Moon Connection 2/22: Afternoon show: Groupthink, Prototype Bob, Octopush, Burnt Ninja 2/23: Madahoochi & friends 2/24: Kind Tuesdays w/the Schwag 2/25: EarthSol & Family Groove Company 2/26: Spookie Daly Pride w/Eckobase 2/27: Jake’s Leg 2/28: Shine, Impala Deluxe, & Orange Punch Warfare 2/29: Afternoon show: Six Point Summer, Jesus Does Vegas, & Somnia

COWBOY MONKEY 6 Taylor St. • Champaign, IL 217-398-6665 • www.cowboy-monkey.com 2/5: Bottle of Justus w/The Dog & Everything 2/6: Terminus Victor w/Lorenzo Goetz & Triple Whip 2/7: Beat Kitchen 2/12: American Minor w/Volcano, I’m Still Excited!! & We Ragazzi 2/13: Him w/Mice Parade & Mileece 2/14: Jakehead w/Tarbox Ramblers 2/20: Frank Bang’s Secret Stash 2/21: Andre Williams & the Greasy Wheels 2/26: Temple of Low Men w/Solips, Ladyradio, The Invisible, & Jeremy Keller 2/27: Split Lip Rayfield 2/28: Candy Foster & Shades of Blue

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CREEPY CRAWL 412 N. Tucker • St. Louis, MO 314-851-0919 • www.creepycrawl.com 2/1: Premonitions of War, Embrace Today, Byproduct, One Cycle Occur, Rules for Ransom 2/2: Irie, Welton, Richboy Falling, As Cities Burn, Night Fire 2/4: Front Row for the Meltdown, The Affair, Left Arm, Capt. Scurvey 2/5: Bayside, The Sleeping, The Skyline, Last Flight Home, Bi-Level 2/6: Ludo, Anything but Joey, Upside, Dog & Everything 2/7: The Toasters, Big D & the Kids Table, Swift Kixx, Secret Cajun Band, The Magnificient 7 2/8: Park, The Higher, Sophomore, A Picturebook of Saints, 13 Lo Kei 2/9: One Eyed Jack Night; bands TBA 2/10: Arms Bendback, Five Story Fall, Small Town Tragedy, Lye by Mistake 2/13: Blood of Me, Cast the Stone, Project Motivation, Yellow Harold, Din, Disrobed 2/14: The Stellas, R.E.D., SHIT, Religeron 2/17: Mastodon, False Hope, Gogotta, Mourning Star 2/19: Senses Fail, The Beautiful Mistake, Moneen, Boys Night Out 2/20: 6 pm: Somehow Hollow, Westcott, Stateside, Until Tomorrow; 9:30 pm: Adrenokrome, Waxwork of a Dynasty 2/22: One Eyed Jack Night; bands TBA 2/24: Oddzar & TBA 2/27: Cope & TBA 2/28: Amazing Transparent Man & TBA

ENIGMA LOUNGE 15480 Clayton Rd. • Ballwin, MO 636-256-8123 • www.enigmalounge.com See Web site for listings.

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FOCAL POINT 2720 Sutton • Maplewood, MO 314-781-4200 • www.thefocalpoint.org 2/6: Dexter Ardoin & the Creole Ramblers 2/7: Kip Loui & the Town Criers 2/14: Curtis & Loretta 2/21: Duddybreeks: Ken MacSwan, Thayne Bradford, George Kieffer 2/28: 2 pm: Song Circle of Friends; 8 pm: Spencer Bohren

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4454 Chippewa • St. Louis, MO 314-351-5711 • www.fredericksmusiclounge.com 2/2: Free Monday Movies: Groundhog Day 2/3: Lost to Metric, Bibowats 2/4: Free “Midwest American Idle” w/Julia Sets & TBA 2/5: 6 pm: Ragtime open mic w/The Ragtime Serenaders; 8 pm: Free Noiseday Hootenanny open mic & jam session w/Brian Marek 2/6: The Bruises, Suz Harrison 2/7: Rowdy Cum Lowdies, Holy Frog 2/9: Free Monday Movies: Ed Wood 2/10: Pitchfork, Andy Young 2/11: Free “Midwest American Idle” w/Julia Sets & TBA 2/12: 6 pm: Ragtime open mic w/The Ragtime Serenaders; 8 pm: Free Noiseday Hootenanny open mic & jam session w/Jonathan Baer 2/13: Kingdom Flying Club, Pete Shukoff 2/14: The Doxies, No River City, Dave Olsen 2/16: Free Monday Movies: TBA 2/17: Low Cycle Hum, Riley

2/18: Free “Midwest American Idle” w/Julia Sets & TBA 2/19: 6 pm: Ragtime open mic w/The Ragtime Serenaders; 8 pm: Free Noiseday Hootenanny open mic & jam session w/Tommy Halloran 2/20: Outlaw Family Band, Grand Fury 2/21: Rev. Glass Eye & His Wooden Legs, The Whole Sick Crew 2/23: Free Monday Movies: TBA 2/24: TBA w/Deconstructing Jim 2/25: Free “Midwest American Idle” w/Julia Sets & TBA 2/26: 6 pm: Ragtime open mic w/The Ragtime Serenaders; 8 pm: Free Noiseday Hootenanny open mic & jam session w/Bob Reuter 2/27: Diesel Island 2/28: Honky Tonk Chateau, Tom Wood Band

THE GARGOYLE Washington Univ Mallinckrodt Ctr. • St. Louis, MO 314-935-5917 • http://gargoyle.wustl.edu 2/11: Wheat w/Hey Mercedes 2/16: Matt Nathanson 2/27: Alaska!

GENERATIONS Lindbergh & Watson Rds. • Sunset Hills, MO 636-256-8522 • www.eliteconcerts.com 2/3: Commander Cody 2/24-25: Asleep at the Wheel w/Raven Moon Band

HARD ROCK CAFE 450 St. Louis Union Station • St. Louis, MO 314-621-7625 • www.hardrockcafe.com Call for events.

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EXPERIENCE THE WORLD LADYSMITH BLACK MAMBAZO at the SHELDON CONCERT HALL February 15, 7:30 p.m.

TICKETS: $35 orchestra/$30 balcony CALL: 314-533-9900 You will experience more at a Ladysmith Black Mambazo concert than you’d get at shows by most groups. More freedom: the singers click, gulp, and hum as well as sing; this South African group doesn’t follow our conventions about what belongs in a song. More silence: they perform a cappella, no instruments distracting from the hushes between phrases.

More discipline: their chants bounce and bound while the performers show off precisely timed dance steps. More unity: founder Joseph Shabalala’s tenor coaxes the troupe along, but otherwise the voices meld into a single personality. More joy: otherwise, why would their Web site, www.mambazo.com, feature this useful phrase first on the “Learn Zulu” page: “Ngiyabathanda Labafanda (I love these guys)”? —Angela Pancella

1001 McCausland Ave. • St. Louis, MO 314-781-4716 • www.hi-pointe.com Mondays: KDHX Superfunhappyhour live remote Tuesdays: Get your foot in the door nite Wednesdays: F5 Records showcase Thursdays: Non-Prophets Comedy Troope Sundays: Leon’s ’80s Ladies Night 2/1: Nebula w/Lungdust & LoFreq 2/6: Operation Rock, Dead Celebrities, Left Arm 2/13: Pala Solution, Stephanie Brickey, McGinty and Meers 2/14: The Misses, The Jags, The Unmutuals, 7 Shot Screamers 2/20: Robb Steele, A Little Noise, MHZ 2/21: Headshop, Meh 2/23: Centromatic 2/27: Gasoff 2/28: White Label, The Treez

THE HIGHDIVE 51 Main St. • Champaign, IL 217-356-2337 • www.thehighdive.com 2/4: Mosquitos 2/6: The Boat Drunks: Jimmy Buffet tribute band 2/7: Buckwheat Zydeco w/Benjy Davis Project 2/13: 5:30 pm: Pocket Big Band 2/18: Suicidegirls Live Burlesque Tour w/Bloom & So Many Dynamos

IRON POST 120 S. Race • Urbana, IL 217-337-POST • www.theironpost.com 2/2: Jazz Jam w/ParaDocs 2/4: Green Mountain Grass 2/5: Big Band Jazz 2/6: Transient Frank & Buddha Belly 2/7: Emily Shrine & Deconstructing Jim 2/9: Jazz Jam w/ParaDocs 2/10: Mike Ingram & Paul Christianson 2/11: Larry Gates, Ol’ Yeller, & Cameron McGill 2/12: Big Band Jazz 2/13: 56 Hope Road 2/14: Troubled Waters w/Mr. John Pennell

GUARANTEED TO GET YOU RILED UP GALACTIC

HOW BIG IS BIG? BIG HEAD TODD and the MONSTERS at the PAGEANT February 18, 8 p.m., all ages TICKETS: $22 • CALL: 314-726-6161 If your appreciation of Big Head Todd and the Monsters is limited to the more-thandecade-old “Sister Sweetly,” with standards “Bittersweet,” “Circle,” and “It’s Alright,” you owe it to yourself to check out this immensely energetic trio live. Todd Park Mohr, Rob Squires, and Brian Nevin consistently deliver a solid show that is jam-packed with tunes.

Vocalist Hazel Miller is slated to join the band on this tour, which promises all of your favorites plus tunes from 2002’s impressive Riviera and their pre–Valentine’s Day release on Big/Sanctuary Records, Crimes of Passion.

Come on out and see what makes Todd so big.

—Lisa Tebbe 2/16: Jazz Jam w/ParaDocs 2/18: Cerulean City 2/19: Big Band Jazz 2/20: No Secret 2/21: Jazz Jam w/ParaDocs 2/25: Beatles cover night 2/26: Big Band Jazz 2/28: One Night Stand

JAZZ AT THE BISTRO 3536 Washington Ave. • St. Louis, MO 314-531-1012 • www.jazzatthebistro.com 2/4-7: Ray Vega Sextet 2/13-14: Mardra & Reggie Thomas 2/18-21: Joey DeFrancesco 2/27-28: Jason Swagler

LEMMON’S 5800 Gravois • St. Louis, MO 314-481-4812 2/6: Julia Sets, Brain Regiment, The Turnstiles 2/7: Wormwood Scrubs, Palookaville, Magnolia Summer 2/13: Fred’s Variety Group, Slipstream, The Hibernauts 2/14: Celia’s Valentine Dinner Theater w/Celia’s Big Rock Band & The Moon Glades 2/19: The Electric, The Carbonas 2/20: Blood Letters, Tone Rodent, Catfish Haven 2/21: Kip Loui & the Town Criers w/Red-Eyed Driver 2/27: The Trip Daddys & The Gentleman Callers 2/28: Clamor Magazine Music Fest w/Highway Matrons, The Whole Sick Crew, Bad Folk

LEMP NEIGHBORHOOD ARTS CENTER 3301 Lemp Ave. • St. Louis, MO 314-771-1096 • www.lemp-arts.org 2/1: StillxCrossed w/TBA 2/4: Law of All Ends, Sine Nomine, With Childlike Eyes,

w/MIKE DOUGHTY at MISSISSIPPI NIGHTS February 28, 7:00 p.m., all ages TICKETS: $15/17 dos • CALL: 314-421-3853 Galactic hail from New Orleans, where they are renowned for gigging deep into the night on nothing but pure adrenaline, with a dollop of funk-rock.

The idea, of course, is to douse them in the lighter fluid that is the international touring circuit and to see if they’ll catch fire. Lately they’ve been spotted at hippie festivals alongside acts like Keller Williams and moe., but they’ve made it beyond the Southernfried funk-jazz boogie doldrums to become a breed all their own. As Rich Eisen might say, Galactic in concert is one of the finest meats and/or cheeses in all the land.

One great thing about Galactic is the fact that their vocalist, Theryl DeClouet (aka House Man), only stays onstage for the songs in which he is an active participant. This puts the emphasis on Galactic the band (Stanton Moore on drums, Robert Mercurio35 on bass, Richard Vogel on keyboards, and the outstanding Ben Ellman on horns and harps). They are driven entirely by the rhythm section, which dominates things from opening to close. Notable hippie-guitarist Trey Anastasio has called Moore “probably the best drummer alive”; indeed, it’s pretty hard to find a more precise and capable timekeeper.

Picking up a copy of their latest release, Ruckus (Sanctuary), won’t adequately prepare you for the live experience. Ruckus is an interesting evolution of the band, featuring as many drum loops and samples as organic drums. The real Galactic only surfaces for a few seconds at a time, as in the brooding sax line in “Doomed.”

But once they take the stage, they don’t mess around. Everything is horns and supercharged bass and Moore flinging his arms all over the place. The format is simple enough, the playing obviously very skilled, but there’s not really anything in the rockcritic lexicon to explain why “Shibuya” will eat your children if Mike Tyson doesn’t get to them first.

The answer, if there is one, lies somewhere within the song “Tiger Roll.” Along with “Doomed” and “Shibuya,” “Tiger Roll” offers the trademark Galactic sound: a repetitive, in-your-face bass line establishing the rhythm, Moore pounding out the basic beats while adorning with his own improvisations at the same time, and Ellman’s sublime saxophone coming in for the melody. In drawing upon older, established styles to forge an electrifying sound all their own, Galactic exemplify the best of roots-rock. —Taylor Upchurch

PLAYBACK ST. LOUIS Breaking of the Vessels 2/11: Bullet Train to Vegas, Tokyo Sex Destruction, Riddle of Steel, Texas Chainsaw Mass Choir 2/12: Comeback Kid, The Distance, Blacklisted, Step on it 2/14: Sidexwalk, Step on it, Cardiac Arrest, Saturday Nights Alright for Fighting 2/19: Modern Day Urban Barbarians, Adversary Workers 2/20: Kelpie w/TBA 2/22: Rope 2/28: Tony Danza Tap Dance Extravaganza, Sine Nomine, Small Town Tragedy, Five Story Fall

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LIL NIKKI’S 1551 S. 7th St. • St. Louis, MO 314-621-2181 2/6: Symptoms of Illusions 2/7: Kooks 2/13: Instant Iguana, The RUckus 2/20: Driver 2/21 Mardi Gras w/Essence of Logic, SOFs, SevenStar, LoFreq, Earl 2/27: Low Cycle Hum, Nervous Pudding, 3JC 2/28: Kevin Jacks Band, Kingdom Flying Club

MAGEE’S 4500 Clayton Ave. • St. Louis, MO 314-535-8061 Every Monday: Open mic night w/Heather Barth Every Thursday: Jake’s Leg 2/4: Fall City, Team Tomato 2/11: Bad Folk, The Hellfire Club 2/17: Confluence benefit 2/18: The Dogtown Allstars w/TBA 2/25: Cash Gal w/TBA

MANGIA ITALIANO

36

3145 S. Grand Ave. • St. Louis, MO 314-664-8585 • www.dineatmangia.com 2/1: Reggae dub spin 2/2: Open mic w/Keiren Malloy 2/4: eighty-four Glyde 2/6: Dave Stone Trio 2/8: Reggae dub spin 2/9: Open mic w/Keiren Malloy 2/11: eighty-four Glyde 2/13: Dave Stone Trio 2/15: Reggae dub spin 2/16: Open mic w/Keiren Malloy 2/18: eighty-four Glyde 2/20: Dave Stone Trio 2/21: The Good Griefs w/Wormwood Scrubs 2/22: Reggae dub spin 2/23: Open mic w/Keiren Malloy 2/25: eighty-four Glyde 2/27: Dave Stone Trio 2/29: Reggae dub spin

MISSISSIPPI NIGHTS 914 N. First St. • St. Louis, MO 314-421-3853 • www.mississippinights.com 2/5: Cowboy Mouth w/TBA 2/6: Alive w/Frayl & Tainted Wisdom 2/7: “Exposure” feat. local alternative punk bands 2/12: North Mississippi Allstars 2/13: Somnia, Loser’s Luck, Ludo, Floating City 2/14: Nothing Still CD release party w/Ultra Blue 2/17: Mest w/Fallout Boy, Matchbook Romance, & Dynamite Boy 2/20: Panic Attach w/Mindrive, Missile Silo Suite, & Sofachrome 2/27: Lojic & NIL8 w/TBA 2/28: Galactic w/Mike Doughty

MOJO’S 1013 Park Ave. • Columbia, MO 573-875-0588 • www.mojoscolumbia.com 2/3: The Mosquitos 2/6: Cowboy Mouth 2/8: The Blues Jam w/Blues 88 2/9: Deke Dickerson

2/10: Cast the Stone, Midwest Murder Society, Disgrace

by Design 2/12: Heiruspecs 2/13: Gumbohead 2/14: Bloodkin w/Shady Deal 2/17: Mason Jennings 2/18: Murdocks & the Pows 2/19: Haymarket Riot & Bald Eagle 2/20: The Doxies w/Honky Tonk Chateau & Trailer Park Travoltas 2/21: Broken Glass 2/22: The Blues Jam 2/24: Spookie Daly Pride 2/28: The Bel Airs 2/29: The Blues Jam

MUSIC CAFÉ 120 S. 9th St. • Columbia, MO 573-815-9995 • www.themusiccafecolumbia.com Every Monday: Open mic night 2/3: Big Metal Rooster 2/4: Blues Jam 2/5: Hamilton Loomie, North Country, Israel Gripke & the Martyr Brigade 2/6: Ska Brawl 2004 featuring the Toasters, Big D & the Kids Table, The Magnificent 7, & Lojic 2/7: Joe Stickley’s Blueprint 2/10: SevenStar w/The Effect & Ross Christopher 2/11: Natty Nation 2/13: Swing ‘n Axes 2/18: Jazz Jam 2/19: The Pieces w/The Barnacles & Stendek 2/20: Namelessnumberheadman, Elevator Division 2/21: Thos 2/24: The Rafters 2/26: Dr. Woo 2/27: A bateria 2/28: Core Project

OFF BROADWAY 3509 Lemp Ave. • St. Louis, MO 314-773-3363 • www.offbroadwaystl.com 2/6: Ghetto Prenup w/the Drew Johnson Band, Donny & the Feelgoods 2/7: Plum Tucker 7 w/Madahoochi & My Brother 2/11: Teddy Goldstein w/Joe Eisenbraun & Anne Heaton 2/12: Ol’ Yeller w/Trailer Park Travoltas & Aintry 2/13: The Roy St. John Mardi Gras Kickoff Party 2/14: Fred Eaglesmith w/the Mike Plume Band 2/18: A Little Noise w/TBA 2/19: Showcase of the bands 2/20: Lazy Joe w/Alsop, Grossi & Haley & Cumberland Gap 2/21: Goldman w/eKe & Brain Regiment 2/25: Tangerine Trousers w/Miles of Wire 2/26: NSAI Songwriters in the Round w/Candy Coburn, Scott Milford, & Laura Diamond Kelley 2/27: Lord Baltimore w/TBA 2/28: Cary Hudson w/the Ten High Band and Mark Bilyeu & the Quickstars

PUDDLE OF MUDD • THE PAGEANT 2/10

THE PAGEANT 6161 Delmar Blvd. • St. Louis, MO 314-726-6161 • www.thepageant.com 2/3: moe.

2/7: Reunion of Radio Rich’s Classics Band w/Fourth Row 2/10: Puddle of Mudd w/Smile Empty Soul 2/13: Tim Cunningham 2/15: Rick Braun 2/18: Big Head Todd & the Monsters 2/20: Erykah Badu w/Floetry 2/22: Rufus Wainwright & Band 2/25: Primus 2/26: Ludacris 2/27: Guster

POP’S 1403 Mississippi • Sauget, IL 618-274-6720 • www.popsrocks.com 2/7: J.D. Blackfood 2/11: Life of Agony 2/26: Cannibal Corpse 2/28: Evenflow: A Tribute to Pearl Jam

POP’S BLUE MOON 5249 Pattison • St. Louis, MO 314-776-4200 • www.popsbluemoon.com Open jam every Tuesday; see Web site for listings.

RIDDLE’S 6307 Delmar Blvd. • University City, MO 314-725-6985 • www.riddlescafe.com 2/1: The John Norment Trio 2/3: Jeff Lash 2/4: Ptah Williams 2/5: The Uncle Albert Band 2/6: The Rockhouse Ramblers 2/7: SWIRL 2/8: The John Norment Trio 2/10: Jeff Lash 2/11: Ptah Williams 2/12: The Bottoms Up Blues Gang 2/13: Zydecco Crawdaddys 2/14: Boogie da Blues Valentine’s Day with The Uncle Albert Band 2/15: The John Norment Trio 2/17: Jeff Lash 2/18: Ptah Williams 2/19: The Uncle Albert Band 2/20: Bande Caribe 2/21: SWIRL 2/22: The John Norment Trio 2/24: Jeff Lash 2/25: Ptah Williams 2/26: The Bottoms Up Blues Gang 2/27: Mojo Syndrome 2/28: Jazz Renaissance 2/29: The John Norment Trio

ROCKET BAR 2001 Locust St. • St. Louis, MO 314-588-0055 • http://rocketbar.net 2/4: Maritime w/Decibully & So Many Dynamos 2/19: The Midnight Evils 2/20: Sullen w/Haymarket Riot & New Black 2/24: The Mountain Goats w/Manishevitz 2/25: Bishop Allen 2/27: So Many Dynamos w/Single Frame & Bagheera 2/28: Back of Dave, Riddle of Steel, Shame Club, The Botanists

SALLY T’S 6 Main St. • St. Peters, MO 636-397-5383 • www.sallyts.com 2/3: The Schwillbillies w/The Monads 2/5: The Hood Invasion Tour 2/6: Given & Driver Holy Frog 2/7: Missile Silo Suite w/Murder Happens & Airtight Willy 2/11: Bagheera w/Eleven Houses 2/12: Lungdust w/Lanes Change Daily & Downpour 2/14: B. Koolman w/Moss & Marco from Cactus Smile 2/18: Stranded w/One Way Conflict & Knife 2/19: Polarized Mind w/Prototype Bob & So Called Something 2/20: Nervous Pudding 2/21: Delta 9 w/Quitter 2/24: Open mic 2/25: Dysphasic w/Tears for Tomorrow 2/26: The Black Hole Incident 2/27: Somehouse Allstars w/Charlieville 2/28: Spector w/Five x’s Over & Phaedrus

SCHLAFLY TAP ROOM 2100 Locust St. • St. Louis, MO 314-241-BEER • www.schlafly.com 2/6: Dexter Ardoin

2/8: Tom Hall 2/13: S.O.L. 2/14: The Orbits 2/15: Stuart Johnson 2/21: Raven Moon 2/22: Louis Saubion 2/27: Rockhouse Ramblers 2/28: The Courthouse Steps 2/29: Dave Black

SHELDON CONCERT HALL 3648 Washington Blvd. • St. Louis, MO 314-533-9900 • www.sheldonconcerthall.org 2/15: Ladysmith Black Mambazo 2/18: Coffee Concert: Folk Music in the Melting Pot 2/21: Music of Lewis & Clark 2/21: Karrin Allyson 2/27: John McEuen & Jimmy Ibbotson

SOULARD ALE HOUSE 1732 South 9th St. • St. Louis, MO 314-436-7849 • www.soulardalehouse.com See Web site for listings.

STUDIO CAFÉ 1309 Washington Ave. • St. Louis, MO 314-621-8667 2/6: Plum Tucker 2/7: Duck Sausage 2/13: Charleville 2/20: A Bit Shifty 2/21: The Urban Blight Players 2/27: Rowdie Cum Lowdies

THREE-1-THREE 313 E. Main St. • Belleville, IL 618-239-6885 • www.three-1-three.com Every Monday: Park Avenue Trio Every Tuesday: DJ Rob Gray Every Wednesday: Open mic night w/Matt Schomber Every Thursday: Industry night w/DJ Kenny Kingston 2/7: EarthSol 2/20: Goldman 2/21: 12 Summers Old, Bi-Level, Thirty 2 Life 2/22: Rodney Branigan, Sol Jibe 2/28: Brain Regiment w/Miles of Wire

TOUHILL PERFORMING ARTS CENTER University of Missouri – St. Louis • St. Louis, MO 314-516-4949 • www.touhill.org 2/1: Arianna String Quartet Concert Series 2/4: Canadian Brass 2/14: Marvin Hamlisch 2/15: Lincoln Center Jazz w/Wynton Marsalis 2/17: Little Angels 2/19: The Acting Company presents Richard III 2/21-22: Stage One Dance Competition 2/28: Montana Repertory Theatre presents A Streetcar Named Desire

VENICE CAFÉ 1905 Pestalozzi • St. Louis, MO 314-772-5994 Call for schedule.

WAY OUT CLUB 2525 S. Jefferson Ave. • St. Louis, MO 314-664-7638 • www.wayoutclub.com 2/3: Holy Hand Grenades 2/4: Saw Is Family 2/6: Good Griefs, The Whole Sick Crew 2/7: Tripdaddys 2/14: Hearts of Darkness 2/20: Cripplers 2/25: Flying Luttenbachers 2/26: Maxtone Four 2/27: Celia’s Big Rock Band

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SUNDAYS Leon’s ‘80s Ladies Night Ladies free, all others $5

MONDAYS Superfunhappyhour with a live KDHX remote check website for listings

TUESDAYS Get your foot in the door night – check website for listings

WEDNESDAYS F5 Records showcase – check website for listings

THURSDAYS Militant Propoganda Bingo Machine w/NonProphets Comedy Troupe

SHOWS NOT TO MISS! Jan. 31 – Amish Armada, The Electric, and the Unmutuals

Feb. 1 – Nebula w/Lo-Freq and Lungdust Feb. 6 – Operation Rock, Dead Celebrities, and Left Arm—START benefit Feb. 13 – Pala Solution, Stephanie Brickey, and McGinty and Meers Feb. 14 – The Misses, The Jags, The Unmutuals, and 7 Shot Screamers Feb. 20 – Rob Steele, A Little Noise, and MHZ Feb. 21 – Headshop and Meh

Feb. 23 – Centromatic Feb. 27 – Gasoff Feb. 28 – White Label and The Treez

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FEB RUA RY AT THE EN I G M A Every Wednesday night in February, the Enigma Lounge is honored to showcase the unique talents of STENDEK, a true gem in the STL music scene.

FOR ALL SHOW INFORMATION go to www.enigmalounge.com

STENDEK is a loop artist, one of two in the entire nation. He single-handedly accounts for every section of a full-on band: drums, guitar, bass, vocals, effects, and turntables.

Great drink specials, doors at 8:30.

15480 CLAYTON ROAD BALLWIN, MO WWW.ENIGMALOUNGE.COM THE UNDERGROUND OF ST. LOUIS ORIGINAL MUSIC OPEN TUES-THURS@8PM FRI-SAT@9PM