PLAYBACK:stl September 2003

OUR LOOK AT THE HOMETOWN OF THE BLUES WITH INTERVIEWS AND REVIEWS THAT WILL HAVE YOU SEEING THE BLUES • PAPA’S PICKS • FILM IN THE LOU TALKS WITH ANGELO PIZZO • SCRIBBLE JAM 2003 • DANDY WARHOLS’ MONKEY HOUSE • EVENTS: WHAT’S GOING ON HERE? • GUARANTEED VIRUS-FREE REVIEWS

September 2003

Playback St. Louis Wants to Give You the Blues There’s so much music going on in our city that we can’t possibly cover it all; we’d never sleep! But we try to cover as much as we can, and that includes our quarterly focus on a particular genre of music. This month, it’s the blues.

Coincidentally, Labor Day weekend also marks the 11th annual Big Muddy Blues Festival at Laclede’s Landing. Held over three days—Saturday, August 30 through Monday, September 1—you can sample a bit of the blues, St. Louis–style. To the right, we’ve got the complete schedule of shows; more information is available online at www.bigmuddyblues.com.

For your fill of the blues, you’ll want to check out this month’s cover story, “So Many Ways You Can Get the Blues: Thursday Nights in St. Louis.” We’ve also got a history of the blues by John May, president of the St. Louis Blues Society, and Tom “Papa” Ray’s top album picks for St. Louis blues.

Also this month is the introduction of a regular column, “From the Corner,” from local blues guitarist Jeremy Segel-Moss. Our hope is that, with this issue, we’ll whet your appetite for the blues; with Jeremy’s column, you’ll be able to keep your taste buds happy for the months to come.

Next month we’ll resume “PlaybackTalk,” our feedback section, so keep those letters coming. Tell us what you like, what you don’t like, what you want to see, and anything else that’s on your mind. E-mail us at contact@playbackstl.com.

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11th Annual Big Muddy Blues Festival on Laclede’s Landing SATURDAY, AUGUST 30 3-10 p.m.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 31 4-10 p.m.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 1 4-10 p.m.

BUDWEISER MAIN STAGE

BUDWEISER MAIN STAGE

BUDWEISER MAIN STAGE

(@ First & Lucas Streets) 3-4:30 p.m.: Soulard Blues Band 5:30- 7 p.m.: Robert “Junior” Lockwood w/Henry Townsend 8-9:30 p.m.: Oliver Sain & St. Louis R&B All-Stars

4-5:30 p.m.: Bennie Smith & Urban Blues Express 6:15-7:45 p.m.: Chicago Blues Legends Hubert Sumlin, Carey Bell, Bob Margolin, Willie “Big Eyes” Smith 8:30-10 p.m.: Bobby “Blue” Bland

4-5:30 p.m.: Albert King Tribute Band 6:15-7:45 p.m.: Jelly Roll All-Stars 8:30-10 p.m.: Johnnie Johnson Band

MISSOURI LOTTERY STAGE (@ Second & Lucas Streets) 4-5:15 p.m.: Rene Smith & Sole Blue 6:30-7:45 p.m.: Cryin’ Shame & Dave Krull 9-10:15 p.m.: Babe Martin & Chump Change

PRESIDENT CASINO STAGE (@ Second & Morgan Streets) 5:15-6:30 p.m.: Arthur Williams Blues Masters 7:45-9 p.m.: Alvin Jett & the Hired Help

EMBASSY SUITES STAGE (@ Second & MLK Drive) 4-5:15 p.m.L Patti & the Hitmen 6:30-7:45 p.m.: Willie Johnson Blues Band 9-10:15 p.m.: Rich McDonough Band

REGIONAL ARTS COMMISSION/PLANET HOLLYWOOD STAGE (behind Planet Hollywood) 4-5:30 p.m.: Brian Curran & Eric McSpadden 6-7:30 p.m.: Steve Pecaro Band 8-9:30 p.m.: Leroy Pierson

MISSOURI LOTTERY STAGE 4-5:15 p.m.: The Bel-Airs 7:45-9 p.m.: Big George & the Houserockers

MISSOURI LOTTERY STAGE 4-5:15 p.m.: Mighty Big Band 6:30-7:45 p.m.: Pennsylvania Slim Blues Band 9-10:15 p.m.: Baker-McLaren Band

PRESIDENT CASINO STAGE 5:15-6:30 p.m.: Uncle Albert 7:45-9 p.m.: Inner City Blues Band

PRESIDENT CASINO STAGE 4-5:15 p.m.: Mojo Syndrome 6:30-7:45 p.m.: Kim Massie Band 9-10:15 p.m.: Keith Doder & Blue City Band

EMBASSY SUITES STAGE 4-5:15 p.m.: Blues Handle 6:30-7:45 p.m.: Rx Blues Band 9-10:15 p.m.: Rob Garland & the Blue Monks

EMBASSY SUITES STAGE 4-5:15 p.m.: Hudson & the Hoodoo Cats 6:30-7:45 p.m.: Melissa Neels Band 9-10:15 p.m.: Charles Hunt & Ground Floor Band

REGIONAL ARTS COMMISSION/PLANET HOLLYWOOD STAGE 4-5:30 p.m.: Tom Hall 6-7:30 p.m.: Silvercloud & Ron Edwards 8-9:30 p.m.: St. Louis Social Club

REGIONAL ARTS COMMISSION/PLANET HOLLYWOOD STAGE 4-5:30 p.m.: Bottoms Up Blues Gang 6-7:30 p.m.: Delta Strings Blues Band 8-9:30 p.m.: The Fab Foehners

Contents

Playback St. Louis Pop Culture

Profile

St. Louis: A Brief History of Singing the Blues ................................3 Papa Ray’s Top 10 (Plus 1) ..................4

On the Road

Scribble Jam 2003................................6 Midwest Music Summit ......................7

Cover Story..................18 Thursday Night Blues

Film in the Lou ............20 Interview With Writer/Producer Angelo Pizzo

Managing Editor Laura Hamlett

Now Playing ................20

Associate Editor/Art Director Jim Dunn

Cabin Fever, The Housekeeper

Play by Play ..................8

The Dandy Warhols, stellastarr*, Brand New, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, June Carter Cash, The Constantines, Erase Errata, Guided

by Voices, Over the Rhine, Josh Rouse, Pernice Brothers, Singapore Sling, Trailer Bride, Year of the Rabbit Quick Hits ..............................................23

From the Corner

Inside the St. Louis Blues Tradition ....12

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

David Gray, Planes Mistaken for Stars, Liz Phair/Jason Mraz, Core Project, Nickel Creek, Human League, Bottoms Up Blues Gang

Three to See ................16

You Are Here ................25 Contemporary Art Museum St. Louis

Curmudgeon ................26 College Radio Confessions ................27 The Lost Art of Concert Courtesy

Take Five ......................28 Matt Murdick: Working the Keys

Elliot Goes ..................28 Local Scenery ..............30 The Play’s the Thing....31 The Militant Propaganda Bingo Machine, Party

Page by Page ................32 Mad A rt

Galler y, pag e 34

Publisher Two Weasels Press LLC

Hallgrímur Helgason, James Wood, Mick Foley, Back-to-School Book Quiz

What’s Going on? ........34 Mad Art Exhibit, Evan Dando, Christopher O’Riley, Andrew W.K., Spookie Daly Pride

Contributing Editors Bryan A. Hollerbach/Kevin Renick Book Editor Stephen Schenkenberg Contributing Writers Kevin Barry, Leah Benson, J. Church, Jim Dunn, Jessica Gluckman, Laura Hamlett, Dan Heaton, Bryan A. Hollerbach, Jeremy Housewright, Mandy Jordan, Tom Keller, Angela Kohnen, John Kujawski, Rob Levy, John May, Dawn O’Neall, Wade Paschall, Tom “Papa” Ray, Kevin Renick, Jeffrey Ricker, Stephen Schenkenberg, Jeremy Segel-Moss, John Shepherd, Pete Timmermann, Ross Todd, Rev. Mike Tomko, Michele Ulsohn, Taylor Upchurch, Rudy Zapf Contributing Photographers Molly Hayden, Tom Keller On the Cover Photo By Molly Hayden ©2003 Printing by The Printing Source Tim Lyons • 636-343-6400 Distribution Two Weasels Press LLC

Playback St. Louis is published Monthly ©All content copyright Playback St. Louis 2003. No material may be reproduced without permission.

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September 2003

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St. Louis: A Brief History of Singing the Blues

By John May St. Louis has always been fertile ground for music. It is associated with the blues internationally through the song “St. Louis Blues,” written by W.C. Handy, who was influenced by a short stay on the St. Louis riverfront. Many musicians passed through or made their home here and helped shape the sounds that we know as “the blues.”

We are fortunate to have had some of the real innovators of American music develop here and transform the blues into rhythm and blues, soul, and rock and roll with a distinctive sound. On any given night, there is a wide selection of live blues percolating throughout the city. Over the years, many of us have seen and heard many of these innovators perform closeup in smaller clubs throughout the city. These opportunities have exposed a wide audience to some exceptional talent and have kept the music alive through their support and enthusiasm.

Music lovers have been increasingly educated through the continuing efforts of KDHX 88.1 FM radio. The station is a conduit for information regarding special events and helps promote performances that might be overlooked. Its dedication to the local music scene brings awareness and appreciation to artists whose music would not otherwise be heard. The station programs a diverse selection of blues to a discriminating audience. In addition to enhancing the knowledge base of its listeners, it provides a well of influences for musicians to draw from.

The cyber world has opened its doors to the blues community through the efforts of stlblues.net. This resource has provided muchneeded exposure to many St. Louis musicians by providing Web pages and sound samples to the community. It has become a source of information for blues enthusiasts and promotes special events regularly.

In addition to these assets, public awareness of blues and its significance has grown through the efforts of the St. Louis Blues Society. The society’s productions and festivals are inclusive of the music community and respectful to the music that it promotes. Now in its nineteenth year, it continues to bring St. Louis artists to the forefront and present them to an appreciative audience. The society’s publication, The BluesLetter, is dedicated to documenting artists and sharing information and stories related to St. Louis music history.

The county parks department continues its Blues on the Mississippi series at Jefferson Barracks Park throughout the summer featuring local and national acts. The Blues Cruises on the Becky Thatcher continue to be a sellout and a great way to experience the blues. This year’s Big Muddy Blues Festival will feature three days of blues on multiple stages, presenting over 35 St. Louis blues acts.

Although blues can be found throughout the city, South Broadway and the Soulard neighborhood have become well-known areas to experience a taste of St. Louis–style blues music. The concentration of music venues provides an opportunity for people to walk from club to club and sample different acts. The musical influences are diverse and can be heard in the everchanging combinations of musicians performing each night. If you want acoustic, delta, R&B, soul, or rockin’ blues, you can find it. All you need to do is listen for the style that moves you and jump in for a while. Because the blues can be interpreted in so many ways, it is hard not to listen to each group and measure their abilities and progress. It is always a pleasure to find musicians that have learned their craft and develop their own material or unique takes on songs.

It is not uncommon to find St. Louis legends Henry Townsend, Chuck Berry, Johnnie Johnson, or Oliver Sain performing in clubs of all sizes. As musicians, they have made this city their home and are comfortable with knowing they can bring people to their feet in their hometown after all these years. Within the last few years, several St. Louis artists have achieved international acclaim with their recordings and performances: Arthur Williams, Erskine Oglesby, Boo Boo Davis, Big Clara McDaniels, the Soulard Blues Band, Fontella Bass, and, of course, Johnnie Johnson. Their success has focused attention on our city and its wealth of talent, and I hope the gate has been opened for more in the future.

There was a time when you could count the active blues bands on one hand and the venues that supported blues on the other; it truly appeared that blues was a dying art form. Today, there are clubs and venues around the city and county that are receptive to blues music. While there has been a resurgence of interest in blues, one cannot avoid the toll time has taken on the blues artists who kept the flame burning through the years. Ace Wallace, Earthquake, Tommy Bankhead, James DeShay, Big Bad Smitty, James Crutchfied, Billy Gayles, and Doc Terry all shared their blues with another generation. They will not be replaced, but left something to remember: the blues will never die...they will always be in transition.

BENNIE SMITH Photo: Molly Hayden

Papa Ray’s Top 10 (plus 1) Arthur Williams. Photo: Molly Hayden

By Tom “Papa” Ray You got KDHX’s Soul Selector, Papa Ray, and I’ve been asked to make a list of ten albums by blues musicians associated with the St. Louis scene. A quick reality check: Some of these selections are out of print. Also, I keep myself on this side of 1960 as a cutoff date—there’s no prewar artists, no compilations of early blues (I defer to my fellow KDHX jock and friend Ron Edwards in this regard). Also, the order in which these are given are in no way a ranking of their merit. Just ten albums for ear candy, composed by moi.

1. Oliver Sain: Saint Louis Breakdown—The master musician/arranger/bandleader/songwriter with his recordings from the Nashville-based ABET label. Sain cut all these sides in his Archway Studios, and you get the cream: dancefloor missiles for doing the Funky Four Corners (that’s the Slide, to most of y’all) such as “Booty Bumpin’” and “Bus Stop” (the latter a sizable dance hit in Europe), a fine slice of blues selections (“Mr. King & Mr. Jordan,” “Scratch My Back”), an amazing slow gospel meditation called “The Prayer,” the brooding vibraphoneshrouded “On the Hill” (which was sampled by Puff-DaddyWhatever-He’s-Called-ThisWeek), Sain’s (to me) definitive reading for the world of “Harlem Nocturne,” as well as his truly inspirational call-to-arms masterpiece on “Soul Serenade” (this should probably be played publicly throughout Iraq for the morale of our troops and the population at large), and the title cut, which should be our city’s official anthem. God bless Oliver Sain.

2. Arthur Williams: Midnite Blue—I picked this set of the three CDs currently available by our most notable harpist/singer because it really spotlights all of this blues trickster’s best strengths: his deep-dish Mississippi vocals take the material and patterns to the core of the Delta.

Recorded in St. Louis at Rayburn Studios, the sound is wonderful, the mood assured and relaxed, and the way A.W. conjures up for the listener songs by Sonny Boy Williamson is almost eerie—it’s like Arthur is channeling Sonny into the twenty-first century. Gods, Arthur just nails Williamson’s sound on the harp. Wicked stuff. Credit to Bob Lohr for the production excellence.

3. Henry Townsend: 88 Blues—Our perfect master of St. Louis Blues is still with us in his tenth decade, and no better place to start if you have not heard any of his recordings. Mr. Townsend is proof that music is a state of creativity that allows those practitioners of long life

to continue their craft in ways as vital, and unexpected, as works from their youthful careers. I can only imagine that if a 30-year-old Townsend could have heard what he was recording at the end of this century, he would be astounded. And so should we.

4. Tommy Bankhead: Please Mr. Forman—At the outset, I shall state this was produced (largely) by my friend and business associate Lew Prince, with input from me. I also will flatly state that of the available recordings by Bankhead, this one so outshines the others as to not even be a question. In good health, backed by his very best band (from the early ’80s), here’s the man who, along with Silver Cloud, virtually kept live blues alive in St. Louis during the arid ’70s. Bankhead, along with drummer Ben Wells and a young Keith Doder, recorded this at the now-defunct Premier Studios (where the TV show Wild Kingdom was shot), and listeners who only hear his dispirited and near-death recordings on Fedora will get no idea of how good Mr. Bankhead was at the top of his game. Check how loose-but-tight the band sounds as their leader delivers whipsaw guitar leads and his finest vocal performances. Must-hear cuts include a stunning “Cummins Prison Farm,” where Tommy’s vocal is accompanied only by Doder’s harp, which exists in a telepathic link to the singer in this amazing one-take recording. My other personal favorite is one penned by T.B., “Don’t Take My Picture From Your Wall.” I doubt if any woman ever did.

5. Soulard Blues Band: Live in Stuttgardt— This St. Louis institution has been a mainstay in the best sense of that word—a constantly high level of live entertainment on stages, festivals, bars, weddings, and winery gigs for going on 25 years. Led by Art Dwyer, Soulard Blues has taken the RFT poll for “Best Blues Band” more than any other group in town. Easily the best-rehearsed blues unit working today, here’s a quite fine snapshot of our boys knockin’ ’em dead in Germany.

Sloppy ensemble-work and self-indulgent solos are never found on SB’s stage. Precision coupled with a we’re-here-to-party élan wins the audience every time; why else do you think Soulard Blues is the hardest-working (and most-booked) band in the River City?

6. Bennie Smith: Shook Up—Probably the most-revered blues guitarist by fellow fret players around, Mr. Smith’s blues pedigree comes from being of that generation in the early ’50s who worshipped at the altar of Texas guitar master Gatemouth Brown. A contemporary of guitar

stylists such as the late Johnny Guitar Watson and Ike Turner (who, legend states, got playing tips from Smith), Bennie can literally put you back in your seat from the power of his heavyyet-floating, sweet-but-stinging solo work. His band, Urban Blues Express, always delivers the goods (if in a song list that goes unvaried, for the most part), working more weekends at BB’s on Broadway than any other band around. There have been at least two locally produced CDs (no longer available), but the Fedora label’s Shook Up gives the listener a good idea of the controlled havoc Smith can create with a solid-body Fender guitar and one Boogie amplifier. Featuring his long-time bassist Sharon Foehner, tenor-saxist Harry Simon (very capable and dangerous on his horn), and harpist Eric McSpadden, this is his best recorded effort yet.

7. Johnnie Johnson/Jimmie Vaughan/Clayton Love: Rockin’ Eighty-Eights—Unfortunately, this is out of print, which is a pity and shame, ’cause in some ways I consider this the greatest single blues release out of St. Louis in the past 40 years.

If only for the cuts by Johnson (which, in my opinion, are his best sides as a leader), this is a must-have. Filled with an embarrassment of musical talent from our city, Rockin’ EightyEights is definitive. You hear maybe the best work ever by Ike Turner’s singer-pianist, Clayton Love (“The Big Question,” first recorded in ’56

by Turner’s Kings of Rhythm for the Federal label outta Cincinnati, was Love’s best-known record, and the version here absolutely trumps the original), plus the overlooked solid keyboard work of Jimmie Vaughan, once Albert King’s bandleader; Vaughan’s “Big Legged Woman” would be the best cut on about 99 percent of blues compilations out today if included.

But the real jewels of this set are the Johnnie Johnson sides. His instrumental “Francis” is a big-band romp played by an A-Team of St. Louis sidemen; the version of Johnnie Taylor’s “Little Bluebird,” sung by the late Vernon Guy, sparkles knowingly and is probably Guy’s finest recorded moment. The wonderful version of the Avery Parrish standard “Afterhours” is as pure an example of Johnson’s artistry that exists.

Recorded at the legendary Club Imperial, Rockin’ Eighty-Eights is an essential recording of St. Louis music.

8. Ike Turner: Here and Now—Along with Oliver Sain, Ike Turner is the don, to borrow an Italian phrase, of St. Louis R&B after 1950. It is impossible to even imagine what the contours of the history of the city would have been if Turner had not relocated from Mississippi to Missouri.

By the time Ike came to town, he had already

September 2003 irrevocably influenced the stroke of twentieth century American music, a multitalented force of nature: talent scout/instrumentalist/producer/ songwriter and bandleader par excellence. (I once heard one of the original record industry insiders of the Midwest, now retired—a man who, so to speak, knew where all the bodies were buried and who paid for it, a man who was never given to overpraising anything—recall Ike’s Kings of Rhythm in 1958 as simply “the best fuckin’ rock ’n’ roll show I ever saw.”) Ike Turner simply wrote the book on blues/rock/R&B when it comes to our town.

Anyone who objects to praise of Turner due to parts of his personal life they really know nothing of (but did once see a biopic on Tina Turner’s life) should never look upon a Picasso painting; in other words, a great artist is not necessarily a nice person.

Ike’s Grammy-nominated Here and Now was, hands-down, the very best blues release of 2001, wiping the floor of an otherwise respectable effort by Grammy winner Jimmie Vaughan. But at this point, Ike could probably cut a blues duet with Jesus Christ or the Dalai Lama and still be seen as the devil made flesh on our planet. No matter. This is a magnificent contemporary blues album that gives the listener stellar guitar and piano (watch out, Ike’s a bitch on the keys) by Turner, along with his very best vocals to date.

The band is full-blown, with a horn section to die for, and Ike’s choice of material is flawless. It all starts out with him reprising Billy Gayle’s wonderful “Tore Up,” and Ike does what any truly great artist does when using or returning to an earlier starting point or idea: he makes it new.

From there, you hear two wonderful instrumentals: a guitar piece that reprises his own “The Grumble” from the early ’70s, actually a paraphrase of a Freddie King number; the piano vehicle “Baby’s Got It” (which, when Ike played this at the Oliver Sain tribute at the Pageant two years ago, totally stole the show), plus a very threatening “I Gave You What You Wanted”; there’s also “Catfish Blues,” which he transforms into a slow blues stomp. The rest is equally enjoyable, a majestic return to form for the most mistrusted musician ever to be associated with St. Louis— hell, Ike trumps Miles Davis’s whole “black prince” persona without even trying.

9. David Dee: Goin’ Fishing—Along with ZZ Hill’s “Down Home Blues,” I have always thought the title cut of this set was absolutely the best blues song written in the ’80s. A sly double entendre story of a soon-to-be-ex’s excursion down to the fishing hole (“I don’t know what bait she usin’, what kind of pole she gonna use/but she had a pretty red dress, and a brand new pair of shoes”), it is the crown jewel of a quite fine example of a St. Louis area bluesman

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using the resources in town (Oliver Sain’s studio, Johnnie Johnson, and hand-picked sidemen) to create a better blues LP than ever came out of London, NYC, or Los Angeles. Dee is a fine songwriter, a capable guitarist who knows to hand off the fretwork when someone else is better (would that lesson be learned by all you #!?@%$?!# guitar players around heah?)—in this case, Mr. Phil Westmoreland—and a vocalist who can really sweat tears out of the words he sings. I do love this recording. Probably the best songwriter for blues this town has seen since Mr. Sain himself.

10. QT Macon: “Blow Wind”— Not only is this out of print, it’s not an album even—just a single, but a great one. Remember, the blues was originally a “singles” business, meaning the LP format did not become important ’til the ’70s, with the need to cater to the expectations of the rock audience. A medium-slow blues with a real sense of urgency and regret, it’s sung by a guy from East St. Louis who’s no longer alive: QT passed within two years of this being cut, but not before he enjoyed seeing it as the most demanded record with the city’s black blues audience in its day. Long out of print on the Pulsar label, this is a tragically unavailable piece of real St. Louis blues by a man who struck fellow musicians and the public as one of the nicest guys you could ever know. The chances are good, when someone calls me crying about their baby having left them and sez, “Papa Ray, you got a good record for somebody in my state?” that I reach for this to soothe a troubled soul.

11. Billy Peek: Can a White Boy Play the Blues?—In Billy Peek, we get this chapter of the St. Louis music book: the gifted young player who understudies with a great master. Many people remember Mr. Peek as Chuck Berry’s best support guitarist (sorry, Keith) touring at a time when Berry made promoters tremble while delivering the goods coast to coast. Before that, Peek had played throughout St. Louis (he fronted a band in the Gaslight Square era with singer Bonnie Lee, aka Bonnie Bramlett), and by the time Rod Stewart hired him for LP-making and international roadwork, there was no question that Rod the Mod had a real world-class player.

After seven years or so, Peek returned to St. Louis, picked up a steady gigging circuit, and cut this LP. All the pieces are in place for a guitarist who had not only absorbed Berry, but had an intimate understanding of two other, uh, good guitarists who had worked around town some: Ike Turner and Albert King. This set of songs carries a rock-heaviness in the fretwork while maintaining more soulfulness than 99 percent of those who toil in the rock-blues trench. At a time when Ike’s infamy was just beginning to (no pun) peak, Billy’s inclusion of Turner’s “Prancin’” reminded

everyone who might have forgotten how potent Turner’s music burns—and Peek was probably the best guitarist on the planet to do this. The title cut is the knowing, tongue-in-cheek wink ’n’ nod from a white guy who learned all this music at the root and can do it as well as any. This guy can carry the blues swing, no worry about that.

KDHX FM 88.1 Blues Schedule Monday 4-7 p.m.: “Soul Selector” with Papa Ray Tuesday 4-7 p.m.: “Howzit Bayou” with Sonny Boy Wednesday 4-7 p.m.: “Where The Action Is” with Dr. Jeff Thursday 4-7 p.m.: “Bluesday” with John and Denny Friday 4-7 p.m.: “Blues in the Night” with Art Dwyer Sunday 5:30-7 p.m.: “Chicken Shack” with Bruce B. 7-8:30 p.m.: “Nothin’ but the Blues” with Ron Edwards 8:30-10 p.m.: “Down in the Alley” with Jeff C. and Rich Barta 12:30-6 a.m.: “Gabriel” with Gabriel

Papa Ray photo courtesy www.stlblues.net.

PLAYBACK ST. LOUIS

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Scribble Jam 2003

By Kyle Beachy venue and bar that plays host to classic rock acts.

It’s two venues, really, with the huge outdoor stage and picnic area that overlooks the lessthan-scenic Ohio River complementing a darker, smokier, and more personal indoor stage. Since 1997, the other two days at Annie’s have been reserved for Scribble Jam. On a dreary, wet Friday night and a gray but dry Saturday, Scribble Jam 2003 went down on August 8 and 9.

In 1997, Scribble Magazine initiated what would be an annual gathering of graffiti writers (“scribble,” get it?). Realizing that there was potential for something more than literally watching paint dry, Cincinnati’s own Mr. Dibbs, the tattooed, bald, goateed, scar- as-hell guy who deejays Atmosphere shows, took the reigns and transformed the modest event into one of the largest independent hip-hop concert/battle/expo/trade shows in the nation.

As mainstream hip-hop’s presence in popular culture has grown, so, too, has Scribble’s in the underground. Two years ago, the people at Stronghold Scribble began outsourcing sales of tickets to Ticketmaster, that despotic, regretfully ubiquitous force in entertainment, to better serve the masses who flocked to Cincy every year. A local emcee named Priest, at this year’s Scribble to circulate his first demo, said, “It’s getting really commercialized. If you watch TV at all in Cincinnati, you’ll see commercials.”

For many, the main draw this year was the tenth anniversary celebration of Minneapolis’s RhymeSayers EntertainEyedea and Abilities ment, label to such indie behemoths as Eyedea and Abilities, Brother Ali, and of course, the lovable, angst-ridden Atmosphere. By 6:30 Friday night, the Annie’s parking lot was at capacity, filled with RVs and cars from across the country. Because of the rain, many of the vendors had moved their tables inside, lining the side and rear walls of Annie’s, further packing an already full venue. A rough estimate put the ratio of whites to persons of any color at somewhere near 10:1.

The night began with sets from Mars Ill, Roosevelt Franklin, and the Oddjobs, three non-RhymeSayers acts who got the crowd warm. As break dancers circled in the back of Annie’s, Los Nativos followed as the first RS representatives, and then Brother Ali came to the stage. A rotund albino with the most rugged voice on the

I have seen 1,500 raised white fists pump furiously in time to the lilt of a generation’s wistful mouthpiece. I have seen Birkenstocks and platform flip-flops; Misfit shirts and hemp necklaces; pierced lips and low-cut ass-hugging jeans; many basketball jerseys and more trucker hats than one would care to count. I have seen people slamdance and hippie-twirl to hip-hop music. I’ve seen groups of 17-year-old Barbies in matching “God Loves Ugly” girly-tees throw themselves at rappers from Minnesota and at people they mistook for rappers from Minnesota. And I’ve seen hungry talent from across the country ignore these same rappers so they can stand in a circle outside, in the rain, with no music, slinging impromptu insults at one another while onlookers ooh and ahh, and sometimes damn! or oh shit! I have seen all this because I have been to Scribble Jam in Cincinnati.

For 363 days of the year, Annie’s Night Club is a rather unspectacular midwestern concert

label, Ali dominated the stage both physically and musically. (Murs later referred to him as “the killer snowman”). He ripped through songs off of his recent Shadows on the Sun LP, and the audience dutifully nodded and rapped along to “Room With a View,” “Dorian,” and “Forest Whitaker.” Ali gave way to Blueprint and Illogic, who performed tracks off of Blueprint’s The Weightroom and Illogic’s amazing Got Lyrics?

The Micranots followed with a short set before Murs took the stage. Next came Eyedea and Abilities, who gave another predictably hype, technically astounding performance. After an extremely hype surprise appearance by underground legend MF Doom, who wore his trademark chrome “Metal Face” mask while doing classic tracks from Operation Doomsday, it came time for that special moment every female in the house was waiting for.

It’s hard to appreciate the apotheosis of Slug without seeing firsthand how women react to his presence. In a crossover that few would have predicted when Overcast! first emerged in 1997, Slug and producer Ant have attracted an enormous following of white teenagers, thanks mainly to Slug’s Caucasoid, accent-free voice and introspective, emotionally stripped lyrics. While their early music was dope, it was unpolished, rough, and raw. Since then, Atmosphere has refined their package and developed a more widely appealing, somewhat fuzzier sound, so that even the angry moments on God Loves Ugly are endearing and somehow soft.

Slug, for his part, doesn’t exactly avoid the rock star persona. “I’m single now,” he said during a break in his set. “I’m looking for a lady friend tonight.” In his hunchbacked stance, shoulders dropped groundward as if the ceiling were too low (it wasn’t) or the onus of all those longing fans was just too much for him to bear, Slug played the role of reluctant celebrity. Dibbs spun his standard heavy metal set, mixing Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs” with Metallica’s “One” while Slug frantically bounced around the stage. It was, in essence, the show they’ve been doing for the past five years, and the crowd couldn’t get enough.

Saturday’s activities revolved around competition. In addition to the classic graffiti expo that dominated every inch of wall space on and around Annie’s, there were DJ, b-boy, emcee, and beat boxing battles throughout the day. As the rain threatened but never really came, crowds filled the outdoor portion of Annie’s, browsing among the vendors, paying way too much for beer, and taking in the day’s festivities.

It would be impossible to adequately describe

All photos courtesy of artMajor (SJO3), www.designthem.com.

September 2003 each of the battles, but the important information is this: A-Train, a 27-year-old from Kansas City, won the inaugural beat boxing competition; Motion Disorder repeated as winners in the b-boy battle; Scratch Bastard, of the DJ crew 1200 Hobos, won the DJ battle with a routine in which he juggled Justin Timberlake’s latest single; and Rhymefest had the stamina to take home the annual emcee battle crown, narrowly beating Your Mama’s Pimp.

Other highlights of the day included Joey Beats, personal producer for Sage Francis, hawking his instrumental CD through a Fisher Price bullhorn; an utter failure of a stage dive by Deuce Leader during the emcee battle that resulted in a broken leg; and a performance by Denmark’s own DJ Static and Nat Ill, who blew the crowd away with their emcee/DJ interplay, further iterating the fact that hip-hop has become an international phenomenon.

Ill Poetic, who was ousted in the preliminary rounds of the emcee battle, came through with the quote of the day when he summarized how the men in the crowd felt about all the female fans who had come to hear Atmosphere: “This year is turning out particularly fresh, primarily because of the females. And God bless Slug, ’cause he can’t fuck all of them.”

Fans of underground hip-hop (like independent music fans in general) are a fragile bunch. The alienation that accompanies a subculture’s elevation into the pop arena is ultimately what drives fans of that culture underground. What, then, is a fan to do when that underground is itself blown up and gains popularity? Two things: one, an infinite regression further and further away from the original source of that fan’s appreciation, and two, a cynicism not only toward the popular culture that has exploited the original source, but also for the newer, younger, or less true fans, the bandwagoners. Trump cards like “keeping it real” and “sellout” offer momentary solace, but are ultimately meaningless. Revive, a graff painter from Chicago somewhat embittered over graffiti’s fall to the wayside at Scribble (graffiti wasn’t even mentioned until 11:30 the second night), admitted, “People who complain about keeping it real aren’t making money.”

In the words of Qwel, “Scribble Jam exactly encapsulates what underground hip-hop is today.” Like the underground, it continues to grow, taking on new fans and sponsors along the way. On August 8 and 9, in the very heart of America, fans celebrated the independence of underground hip-hop. Some left with a feeling of enlightenment, of being part of something new and exciting. Others, though, left in search of the next next big thing, digging deeper underground to escape the harsh glow of pop’s searchlight.

Because you get the feeling that 2004 might just be the year that Pepsi gets wind of the market, and we all know where that would take things…

7

Midwest Music Summit We went to the Midwest Music Summit for the first time, expecting it to be a letdown after other festivals we’ve attended. Though it was on a significantly smaller scale with a different focus—where SXSW brought in as many hot, up-and-coming bands as possible, MMS prefers instead to focus on unsigned bands, in order to give them a broader audience—we left Indianapolis after the third day very impressed.

Now in its third year, MMS is both showcase and conference, offering industry-themed panel discussions and Q&A to performers and registrants. The real focus, of course, is the music, and MMS had plenty of that: over 250 performers in 22 venues over the course of three nights.

Though unsigned and unfamiliar, a number of these bands were visionary, talented, and fresh.

Top on the list has to be Columbus, Ohio’s Miranda Sound. Their upbeat, fast-tempoed music is a striking contrast to the vocal interplay between Billy Peake and Dan Gerkin. Peake’s vocals reach high, evoking Sunny Day Real Estate in all its glory. When he’s not singing, Peake plays guitar with a manic, jerky energy.

Instrumentally, the band’s music is far-reachingly melodic, rich, and textured; they play with a magic cohesiveness and creative vision. www.mirandasound.com Complex arcs of guitar and stutter-stepped, hard-hitting drums define The Stepford 5, yet another export outta Columbus. They also win for quote of the festival, as singer Keith Jenkins proclaimed, “Sooner or later, we’re going to prove to the rest of the stupid country that the Midwest is where all the good rock bands are.” Their music is a hybrid of shoegazer and harder modern rock,

with strong vocals and harmonies. As TS5 play, the sounds become waves of chords and beats, all crashing on the beach at once. Nice stuff. www.stepfordfive.com Indianapolis itself has a couple of natives deserving of accolades; the first of these, Loretta, is a young quintet that falls somewhere in the realm of Bends-era Radiohead. Intense, almost possessed, vocalist Damon sings with eyes closed, body jerking, neck veins bulging—yes, they are that into what they’re doing. Strong guitars and stronger dual vocals—from Damon as well as guitarist/keyboardist/singer Jason—combine for a powerful indie-rock sound. Watching Damon onstage, you fear for his safety each time he jumps around the cramped space; he’s every bit as jerky/freaky/possessed as Thom Yorke. www.lorettamusic.net The Pieces are an Indy three-piece—lead singer/songwriter/guitarist Vess Ruhtenberg, bassist/vocalist Heidi Gluck, and drummer Devon Ashley. Think of them as the White Stripes of pop; Ruhtenberg even has that mussed-up Jack White look about him. He and Gluck traded vocals, often cleverly written lines, and he played guitar like a true rock star. For her part, Gluck, a gawky Rosanna Arquette–type, added just the right amount of feminine wiles and outright oddness to make the snappy pop songs even more memorable. www.thepieces.net We also caught sets by local boys Just Add Water and Somnia, both of whom put on solid, well-received shows.

We look forward to discovering more of the Midwest’s best in 2004!

—Laura Hamlett

Billy Peake of Miranda Sound

Keith Jenkins and Jason Dziak of The Stepford 5 Jason and Damon of Loretta

Heidi Gluck of The Pieces

Photos: Hamlett/Dunn

DANDY WARHOLS STELLASTARR*

THE DANDY WARHOLS: WELCOME TO THE MONKEY HOUSE (Capitol) STELLASTARR*: STELLASTARR* (RCA) Anyone who doesn’t believe the ’80s are back hasn’t seen what I’ve seen. Last week, I witnessed a scarf being worn as a belt, and it looked fresh and new. Oh yeah, baby; they’re back.

As further proof, I offer two of the latest and most-hyped releases by The Dandy Warhols and stellastarr*. Both are incredibly powerful, danceand groove-filled discs. And both draw very, very heavily from the keyboard- and sunshineinfused ’80s.

Kicking off Welcome to the Monkey House— following the title track, a one-minute understated intro in which lead singer Courtney Taylor-

Taylor commands, “Come on, you monkeys”— is the first single, “We Used to Be Friends.”

Remember all that angst-filled alt-rock that’s saturated the airwaves of late? This ain’t it. The vocals of “Plan A” have a heavy Duran Duran feel to them and with good reason: D2 keyboardist Nick Rhodes produced the disc. The song seems to expand, reaching into the crevices of your brain with its textures and strange but beautiful sounds, as Taylor-Taylor sings in his best falsetto. Toward the end, the song swells as the chorus repeats: “All of us sing about it.”

A steady beat accented by the sounds of heavy breathing thrums into your head to begin “The Dope,” as keyboards groove into the mix.

The soft-voiced Taylor-Taylor near whispers the words, interpreting his feelings of lust (or is it love?). Backing him are Peter Holmström on lead guitar, Brent DeBoer on drums, and Zia McCabe on keyboards.With its “Whoo! Whoo!” background track, “I Am a Scientist” is all ’80s dance club—and believe me, you can really get your groove on to this one. Lyrically, there’s not much to speak of—“Yeah, uh, I am a scientist/We gotta live on science alone”—but it’s a fun ride.

With a sly eye toward the band’s druggy reputation, a voiceover begins “I Am Over It”: “All right, let’s see if we can do this in one toke…take.”

Harplike sounds swirl across the keyboards, cut by a sharp and pointed guitar. This is another understated groove, and it plays beautifully.

Other points of note include the happy-skippy “The Dandy Warhols Love Almost Everyone” with its return of the falsetto; the sound of the tide on “Insincere Because I” has the feel of losing yourself in a lazy summer, despite the lyrical repetition of “It’s over.” On “You Were the Last High,” Taylor-Taylor weakly admits, “I am alone

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but adored/by a hun- stl.com with the subject line “Josh Rouse.” Winner will dred thousand more/ be announced in next month’s issue. but I swore/you were Congratulations to Eric Rovie for winning a copy of Lloyd Cole’s Music in a Foreign Language. The up-andthe last.”

Closing out the coming pop star who guested on Cole’s self-titled solo debut was Matthew Sweet. disc, “You Come in Burned” is a gentle, trippy groove, perfect for a dark room after the sun has set and before you’ve gotten up to turn on a light.

Where The Dandy Warhols are the lighter side of ’80s wave—the New Romantic era, shall we say—stellastarr* is the brooding Mancunian cousin. The first time I listened to stellastarr*’s debut full-length, I was amazed. This album was good; really good! I wanted to pull people over to my speakers, make them listen to the new and wonderful sounds coming from them; in fact, I may have phoned my husband and held the receiver to the speaker, I can’t be sure.

The sounds aren’t entirely new, though; they’re familiar, put together in a new fashion.

The voice is strong and reminiscent of many who have come before—Jarvis Cocker of Pulp, Russell Mael of the Sparks. The music is exquisitely strummed or keyed or drummed or otherwise coaxed.

A precisely picked “In the Walls” kicks off the disc, very Interpol-like in its dark, drum-heavy delivery. Probable first single “Jenny” is a brash, in-your-face song about a girl: “Jenny was sitting in the lounge/she was talking to herself/Maybe things like that turn you on,” singer/guitarist Shawn Christensen taunts to kick off the track.

Vocalist/bassist Amanda Tannen backs his cocksure vocals with dated “oh-ohs,” while Michael Jurin’s guitars and Arthur Kremer’s drums combine for a rolling, fast-beating number.

September 2003

!

ct@playback.” Winner will

g a copy of e. The up-andelf-titled solo

On the gently aching “A Million Reasons,” Christensen admits, “I’m going through hell for the darker side of myself/I only want what I can’t have.” To kick off “My Coco,” he and Tannen share a slowed-down verse, after which they rev things up into full dance mode: “I sat alone and I didn’t care/I sat two years in the same old chair/I saw two roads and I didn’t know/which way to go go go.”

The racing “No Weather” is made by Christensen’s loose vocal style; you can literally feel him losing control as he sings. Midway through the song, Jurin kicks in with a smoldering guitar, and you realize this is not your average mindless dance band. A doglike yelp ends the track. Just as it sounds, “Moongirl” is the perfect song for a moonlit drive; its first half filled with wordless yearning and spiraling guitars, it evokes warm nights and cool breezes.

When the vocals finally kick in, they’re distorted and quiet, almost an afterthought. Finally, Christensen’s voice soars as he proclaims, “One day I will be finished/but today there’s a girl who shows me everything.”

“I’ll run away with you,” proclaims Christensen on “Somewhere Across Forever”; “I’ll be the truth for you.” Scratchy guitars back the lines he and Tannen trade back and forth á la Human League in “Don’t You Want Me.” “Blue

9

eyes, blue hair, not gonna leave without you,” he reiterates—ah, yes. The ’80s. The expansive “Homeland” is another stunning example of musical genius; the instrumentation is just spoton, rich and transporting. “Untitled” is a gentle love song, though when Christensen apologetically says, “I’ve been tamed the past two years/I’ve really changed,” you’re not at all sure if you believe him. You feel justified in your suspicion as he sings later, “So what’s your name?”

By the end of the disc, just when Christensen’s cocksure voice gets a little tiresome, he pulls a fast one, slipping in the aptly titled “Pulp Song”—a song that, damn it, if it doesn’t sound as if it could have been recorded

by Pulp. “We’re lying/we’ve lied to you/we plan to lie our lives away,” Christensen and Tannen harmonize one more time, and you’re so busy bobbing your head and moving your feet, you don’t even care you’re being had. That’s the beauty of stellastarr*.

—Laura Hamlett BRAND NEW: DEJA ENTENDU (Razor & Tie) The latest album from Brand New can be summed up in one word: captivating. The Long Island band’s sophomore effort is totally different from their 2001 release, Your Favorite Weapon. Weapon, which featured the single

“Jude Law and a Semester Abroad,” was loaded with heavy punk sounds and was a good debut.

Instead of sticking with the same formula, BN decided to make a ruthless album, and their ambition shows. Musically and lyrically, Deja Entendu is far superior to Weapon.

From the opening track, “Tautou,” listeners will realize that this album is something special.

While “Tautou” is somber, the very next track “Sic Transit Gloria…Glory Fades” is filled with a boisterous chorus and heavy bass.

The first single, “The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows,” is one of the catchiest rock songs of the year. The energetic track is filled with dueling vocals and amazing guitar slides.

(The video is pretty cool, as well.)

Ironically, déjà entendu is French for “heard it before.” This is one album that is definitely unlike anything heard before, and Brand New should be praised for their guts to take a chance and create something different from the mainstream.

—Jeremy Housewright

continued on next page

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Play by Play BRMC: TAKE THEM ON, ON YOUR OWN (Virgin Records) The hype machine is in full effect. The second album from Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Take Them On, On Your Own, is everywhere. BRMC is festooned on all U.K. press magazines and is now getting maximum exposure on M2. Their agit/angst pop noise sonics have been embraced Stateside by shoegazers, rockers, and indie kids. Why? The answer is simple: they’re cool.

The Bay area threesome produce a mix of medicinal noise, feedback, and rock ’n’ roll. On Take Them On, On Your Own, BRMC snarl like punk rockers, but feed back the distortion of My Bloody Valentine, Loop, or the Jesus and Mary Chain. They are a matured band on the rise, writing grimy songs and wrapping them in dark, black, fuzzy sounds. Their songs are distorted and murky by nature, but always rock-solid and jaggedy.

The first half of this album comes out strong and heavy. “Stop!,” the first single, is catchy as hell. Robert Turner sounds like he’s singing inside a tin box with Sonic Youth behind him.

Nonetheless, its propulsion-sounding drums and rigid introductory bassline make it a crisp, potent single. “Six Barrel Shotgun” is a frantic feast of noise, with powerful guitars and a wall of sound that Turner takes charge of and runs away with. With its well-crafted hooks and Dandy Warhols–sounding guitar bits, “We’re All in Love” may well be a single. It picks up where “Red Eyes and Tears” left off last time around, this time inverting it.

Similarities to the Velvet Underground are not unfounded. “In Like the Rose” and “Ha Ha High Babe” are Lou Reed–tinged songs with power chords and octane. “Generation” and “US Government,” blunt, noisy, and lyrically to the point, are brutal displays of power. Things slow down with “And I’m Aching,” a melancholy three-plus–minute song about heartbreak and loss. Turner’s vocals have become more open, more expansive this go ’round, as evidenced by “Heart and Soul” and “Six Barrel Shotgun.”

Obviously, BRMC have moments during which they channel the Cure, the Velvet Underground, Love and Rockets, the Stones, My Bloody Valentine, and contemporaries The Dandy Warhols. Despite this, they are entirely original at writing great songs. With Take Them On, they sing about relationships, being broke, being angry, and politics. As skilled musical chameleons, BRMC can be psychedelic, they can brood, and they can rock. They are everything that is good about a great band in a small studio, with good songs, easy chords, and sweat. They

from previous page

are the messianic kick in the butt that rock was not getting from Britpop or West Coast glam rock, noisy roustabouts who have managed to take a well-traveled sound and make it entirely new.

They’ve taken a great deal on, on their own terms.

—Rob Levy JUNE CARTER CASH: WILDWOOD FLOWER (Dualtone Records) As a memento mori, June Carter Cash’s Wildwood Flower should break the heart of any true lover of country music.

Even as production was concluding on the 13-track disc—only her third solo release, as well as the successor to 1999’s Grammy-winning Press On, which Dualtone recently reissued—Carter Cash, 73, died in mid-May of complications from cardiac surgery. Wildwood Flower thus forms an accidental but acute valedictory from one of the grandes dames of country music.

Moreover, in its form and content alike and in something like just 45 minutes, her last disc celebrates the tradition of that music in a breathtaking way. As produced by John Carter Cash, her son with Johnny Cash, Wildwood Flower sounds like a previously unknown Carter Family recording. Roughcast, vast in its modesty, by turns surprisingly gay and melancholy almost beyond endurance, it incorporates contributions from a delightful array of descendents of A.P., Sara, and Maybelle Carter, as well as Cash himself, former son-in-law Marty Stuart, and others—it’s quite the family affair. In addition, the majority of the numbers here come from the Carter Family catalog, among them “Keep on the Sunny Side” and the title track, which closes things in a singularly moving manner. Also included are “Temptation,” the sprightly final duet recorded by Carter Cash and her husband, and “Big Yellow Peaches,” with a hilarious spoken introduction on its improbable inspiration— actor Lee Marvin. An altogether lovely production, this disc will move many listeners to tears.

Far too soon did we lose her, June Carter Cash, the lady with the lightning smile who could go toe to toe with the Man in Black, and Wildwood Flower gloriously if grievously underscores the depths of our loss.

—Bryan A. Hollerbach THE CONSTANTINES: SHINE A LIGHT (Sub Pop) Sorting through the never-ending pile of CDs and press kits on my desk, I often find myself hoping for something exceptional to jump out.

On one of these particular days in July, I came

across the Nighttime EP by The Constantines and, with only lukewarm expectations, popped it in. As the sound hit my ears, I became enthralled by the apparent TalkingHeads-meets-AfghanWhigs concoction. Worthy of a further listen. I was even more surprised to find an actual Talking Heads cover (“Thank You for Sending Me an Angel”) on Track 3. As I noticed that this EP was just a teaser of the full-length to be released in August, my excitement became uncontrollable. After much anticipation, the package from Sub Pop finally came and, without delay, went from mailer to CD player.

The sounds captured on Shine a Light are like nothing I have ever heard. In a day where ripping off the past is the key to success, The Constantines have at least copied bands with talent and integrity. Being equal parts Fugazi, Talking Heads, The Clash, Afghan Whigs, The Cult, and Bruce Springsteen, their sound is best described as innovation through impersonation.

Since forming in 1999 while at college in Guelph, Ontario, The Constantines have managed to build up a huge Toronto following as well as a Juno (Canadian Grammy) nomination for their first release. Now on their second full-length, the quartet is looking to take their raucous blend of punk, rock, and soul onto larger landscapes.

An ex-bandmate of mine once told me that our band would be considered successful, not when we had sold millions of records and made tons of money, but when our sound was strong enough where the transition from playing bars to playing arenas or from playing as a five-piece to playing with an orchestra was an easy one. I didn’t quite understand what he meant until I listened to The Constantines. Shine a Light combines soulful breakdowns (“On to You,” “Goodbye Baby,” “Sub-Domestic”) and uptempo rock songs (“Young Lions,” “Insectivora,” “Tiger & Crane”) with adrenaline-infused punk rock numbers (“National Hum,” “Nighttime Anytime (It’s Alright),” “Tank Commander (Hung up in a Warehouse Downtown)”), creating a record that maintains a mutual cohesiveness among its songs’ great diversity. The interplay between the core musicians, the guest vocalists, and the horn section truly personified what my friend was trying to say. It really does say something about your music when you can add out-of-the-norm instrumentation and make it feel natural. That is, by far, the most impressive aspect of The Constantines’ sound: their ability to maintain such a level of intensity and still have room for complexity and musicianship.

The Constantines should definitely shine a light

September 2003

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on your music collection and have you reveling in the joy that is great music.

—Rev. Mike Tomko ERASE ERRATA: AT CRYSTAL PALACE (Troubleman Unlimited) Rock music has seen the future, and it is filled with drum machines, synthesizers/organs, trumpets, and monotone vocals with an icy cold delivery. These “new” instruments help create a vibrant and futuristic soundscape.

Recently, bands have been using one or more of these instruments with varying degrees of success. Erase Errata is one band that has been successful in this endeavor. Their debut album, Other Animals, gained critical acclaim and the attention of many well-known musicians. They have formed a side band with Kim Gordon, captured the attention of Kathleen Hanna (look closely at the back cover of Le Tigre’s second album), and inspired countless women.

It would be easy to dismiss Erase Errata as a pop/punk band (see The Rapture) or even a socalled riot grrrl act (see Sleater-Kinney). The

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truth is, they are both of those things. However, Erase Errata has a certain style and panache that make them unique.

This San Francisco–based quartet has a variety of influences. You can hear English punk rock, garage rock, and new wave on their latest release, At Crystal Palace. The album starts with “Driving Test,” a great start, as its driving beats really capture your attention. Jenny Hoysten’s frosty delivery becomes the focal point of this song. These components fuse together to create a stellar no-wave song.

“Retreat, the Most Familiar” is an anthem about abandoning democracy. It also features a resounding chant of “everyone wants to come over to my house.” I don’t know if this is a revolutionary call to rebel, but I do know that it makes you wanna shake your ass.

Continuing the aural assault is “The White Horse Is Bucking.” This song takes a disco twist and has a light, shimmery sound. Nevertheless, it is still a visceral rock song at heart. “White Horse” sounds like a Peaches and Sleater-Kinney hybrid and is one of the strongest tracks on the album.

“A Thief Detests the Criminal, Elements of the Ruling Class” follows the disco-punk pattern and continues to establish the album’s unique sound. However, some points on the album become more machine-like than man-. While

songs like “Surprise, It’s Easter,” “Flippy Flop,” and “Owls” do not lack any lyrical charm, the music itself becomes a little repetitious and bland. Some songs completely lost my attention and left me looking for livelier CDs. Overall, though, At Crystal Palace is an astoundingly good album. Erase Errata has continued to push boundaries on this album and create new and interesting music. While some tracks have a few frustrating points, all tracks should be considered unique experiments in music. Each time you give the disc a spin, you’ll hear something new. What have you heard today?

—Dawn O’Neall GUIDED BY VOICES: EARTHQUAKE GLUE (Matador) A sad fact widely known: after 20 or so years of recording, many artists release their most hackneyed, least loved, and often best-forgotten albums.

Even the well-established Great Ones follow suit: the Rolling Stones turned in Dirty Work, Pink Floyd had A Momentary Lapse of continued on page 22

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Inside the St. Louis Blues Tradition

By Jeremy Segel-Moss Welcome to Playback St. Louis’s newest addition: “From the Corner.” At some point in putting together a magazine focused on St. Louis music, we had to feature St. Louis’s true tradition: blues.

This issue was set up to bring a glimmer of light to the quiet group of musicians carrying on a slowly disappearing history. Truth is, St. Louis is known worldwide for blues, but St. Louis doesn’t know much about blues.

Of course, St. Louis blues is much more than just one issue of Playback St. Louis, which is one reason for starting this column. “From the Corner” was created to provide a monthly insight into the blues community, music, history, musicians, and whatever seems relevant at the time.

For the record, St. Louis has a dedicated community of fans, a longstanding Blues Society, a fair amount of venues, a committed radio station, a successful blues festival, and a pool of musicians who can honestly be called world-class. All that said, our city’s lack of record labels, touring blues bands, or much current export leaves us to talk about (in true St. Louis fashion) our potential.

Now, I won’t claim to be a history buff, to know the blues the way people like Leroy Pierson and Ron Edwards do. I don’t claim to have lived the blues the way the real bluesmen, like Henry Townsend, have lived it. I don’t have the age and experience to give a whole lot of advice or have an overwhelming amount of musical taste. But it’s amazing what you can learn standing on the corner.

On the corner, you can hear blues spill out onto the most unsuspecting streets, their stories following closely behind. See, being overlooked is not

necessarily a bad thing. It has its advantages. On any given night, you can see, for a measly five or ten bucks, the founders of blues and R&B. You can talk to them, buy their CDs from the stage, and (for those musicians in the audience) if you’re really nice, they’ll show you a few licks.

I’ve met a mish-mosh of musicians of all ages, genders, and colors playing their own variation of the blues…and it is truthfully astounding. Music that is rumored to be breathing its last few breaths is really just around the corner.

With any luck, “From the Corner” will be a place for some of St. Louis’s stories to emerge—old and new. A place where a little piece of the blues can be kept alive.

So, introduction’s over…on to business. For a good shot of blues Labor Day weekend, go down to the Big Muddy Blues Festival on Laclede’s Landing! This year’s lineup is especially tasty. National legends like Hubert Sumlin, Bobby Bland, Robert Jr. Lockwood, and Carey Bell rubbin’ elbows with local legends like Oliver Sain, Bennie Smith, Johnnie Johnson, Arthur Williams, Boo Boo Davis, Silvercloud, even Henry Townsend. Plus, monsters like Keith Doder, the Ground Floor Band (featuring Charles Hunt), Tom Hall, The Fab Foehners, Pennsylvania Slim, Big George & the House Rockers, Renee Smith & Soul Blue, Rich McDonough…the list goes on and on. You can find out all the details at www.bigmuddyblues. com, but you don’t need details: just show up and be blown away! And it’s freakin’ free!

Once again, welcome to the corner, and remember: support local music with every ounce of energy you have.

When and Where to Find the STL Blues SUNDAY

THURSDAY

Mo Bar: Mighty Big Band

See “Cover Story,” pages 18-19

MONDAY

SATURDAY

Broadway Oyster Bar: Soulard Blues Band

Gino’s Lounge: (afternoon shows) Mike & Mins: Rob Garland & the Blue Monks Great Grizzly Bear: Pennsylvania Slim Hammerstones: Marsville Molly’s: Ground Floor Band (featuring Charles Hunt)

TUESDAY Venice Café: Acoustic Blues featuring The Bottoms Up Blues Gang (2nd Tuesday); Brian Curran (3rd Tuesday); and the Fab Foehners (4th Tuesday)

WEDNESDAY Venice Café: Bennie Smith & the Urban Blues Express s night blue , Tuesday Venice Cafe

PLAYBACK ST. LOUIS

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David Gray American Theatre, August 1 Beneath Britney Spears’ exposed G-strings and Jewel’s sudden yearning for the adult film industry lies David Gray. He needs no gimmicks and no shocking styles, just his voice and guitar.

On the warm night of August 1, Gray and his band played the shit out of the cavernous American Theatre. One probably doesn’t associate raw power with a band including an acoustic guitar, lead electric, bass, drums, and piano. But David Gray’s voice is so cutting and dynamic, it saturates every part of the listener and the venue. It even sounded pristine in the black-andwhite-tiled bathrooms.

Energetic from the beginning, the band shot out with “Dead in the Water,” the lead track on Gray’s newest and critically acclaimed album, A New Day at Midnight. The show continued to build momentum with songs from the same album, including “Real Love,” “Caroline,” and “Kangaroo,” to name a few. The band was obviously comfortable onstage, and this commanded the crowds’ attention without hesitation.

One of the oddest things about their live performance is that the drummer, known simply as Clune, faces straight across the stage. This gives the audience a profile view. These facts don’t even take into account that he wears Hawaiian shirts and uses glowing brushes to play the drums—a true character. He can easily steal the show and lift the weight off Gray’s shoulders.

One would think his style would clash with Gray’s (who was wearing an untucked buttondown shirt and jeans). But it’s quite the contrary, as the whole band was gellin’ like felons.

The set quieted down at the midpoint, with

older tunes from Gray’s vastly popular album, White Ladder. Such songs included “My oh My,” “We’re Not Right,” and “Sail Away.” Each one exuded passion and perfection by the band, which worked up a sweat into the end of the set with the radio-friendly and crowd-hopping “Babylon.”

After coming out to a blood-curdling ovation for the encore, Gray lost himself in the beautiful piano ballad “This Year’s Love.” This was a rich transition to the full band returning for the end of the show. Their closing staple is “Please Forgive Me,” a song which makes you feel as if you’re at a rave when the show closes. Its bassbooming drum loops, combined with Gray jumping around the stage, make you want to stay.

This means much, because you’ll always return to see David Gray live.

—Kevin Barry

Game couldn’t compete with the bar raised to Riddle of Steel’s height. Their sound was just too little, too late for them to capture the attention of a crowd hot with anticipation for Planes.

Maybe this was PMFS’s strategy to make themselves look better, who knows, but the show didn’t really seem to start until they took the stage. Let’s just hope that this is not just a one-off return, but rather the start of a constant stream of visits from one of the nation’s hottest underground bands. www.pmfs.net —Rev. Mike Tomko

Liz Phair/Jason Mraz with Sondre Lerche

Planes Mistaken for Stars with End Game, Riddle of Steel, and Lexington Creepy Crawl, August 1 It isn’t often that a relatively underground band, no matter how popular, can abstain from visiting a city for over five years and, upon returning, tear the place apart. This was absolutely the case for the much-belated St. Louis return of Planes Mistaken for Stars.

They showed the Creepy Crawl no mercy as they blistered through their set. Favoring the harderedged numbers, the aggro-emo quartet put every minute of the show to good use, keeping the tuning and talking time to a minimum. Even amid gear failure and other technical difficulties, they never put the show on pause, playing melodically noisy instrumentals as amps were changed out and guitars restrung.

PMFS’s sound, blazoned with reverence and maturity, manages to counterbalance their stellar talent against a giant wall of sweat, grit, and grime. A true testament to the hard-working musician, their show never ceases to amaze; the faces of the crowd exemplified this point even further as jaws dropped and eyes widened at the sonic assault before them. Covering material from all corners of their vast catalogue, Planes were able to fulfill most fans’ wish lists and still overtake the newcomers.

Leading off the night were the young St. Louis hooligans Lexington (formerly The Drive Home), whose set was bearable, at least. Their music, which seems to personify their age, does show some signs of future maturity, although probably only at the cost of years of arduous practice and dedication. Local stalwarts Riddle of Steel came on next, completely reviving the waning crowd.

Their strong performance of neo-grunge compositions helped to gear up the crowd for the onslaught that was to come. Unfortunately, though, PMFS’s fellow Denver residents End

The Pageant, August 5 On the heels of controversy, indie rock legend Liz Phair returned to St. Louis August 5 for the first time in several years: her self-titled fourth album has been generating heated debate among fans due to its blatant attempt at courting a larger audience (via a slick, contemporary pop sound that many listeners—and critics, as well—simply can’t wrap their ears around). The noisy debate— along with Phair’s suggestive poses in magazines and on the album’s cover—ensured that a sizable crowd would show up at the Pageant for her show, but by the time the date had rolled around, the concert was a sellout. Jason Mraz may have also had something to do with that; he has a song getting tons of local airplay on FM 101.1 The River. At any rate, this was a buzzworthy show before even a note was played.

Boyish Norwegian pop melodist Sondre Lerche turned in a brief opening acoustic set; his prompt starting time of 7:30 (far earlier than most were prepared for) meant that a lot of latecomers didn’t get to hear him. Those who did enjoyed a clutch of sweet, gracefully performed numbers from Lerche’s remarkable debut, Faces Down. His combination of amiable exuberance and undeniable, Costello-influenced songcraft sent nearly audible ripples through the crowd, and the mad dash for CDs after his brief set (mostly by swooning young women) certainly showed what a strong performance by a newcomer can accomplish. Lerche closed with a surprising rendition of Cole Porter’s “Night and Day.” He was a charmer, through and through.

After roughly a half-hour delay, Liz Phair strolled onto the stage, surprising the heck out of those of us who thought she was the headliner.

Looking every inch the proud 30-something hottie she is, Liz was wearing a white tank top, camouflage miniskirt, and brown leather boots, clearly happy to be in the limelight (something not always true in the past). She proceeded to serve

September 2003 up about an hour’s worth of tunes both old (“Polyester Bride,” “Help Me Mary,” “Johnny Feelgood,” “Supernova”) and new (“Extraordinary,” “Why Can’t I,” “Rock Me,” and “Favorite”). “I get weary of having to keep my mouth shut sometimes,” Phair told the audience at one point. “I’m just really happy I’m a musician and that I can write songs.”

Well, Liz can do that, all right, but setting the obvious babe factor aside, she sure didn’t do much onstage. She simply stood in one place, guitar strapped on tightly (with her roadie occasionally bringing her a different guitar), singing her no-holds-barred tunes about sex, relationships, sex, divorce, sex, having fun as you get older, etc. And did I mention sex? Liz sure did, especially in the legendary pair of raunch romps from her Exile in Guyville album of the early ’90s, “Fuck and Run” and “Flower.” The former is a pretty cool song, actually, and Liz’s enunciation wasn’t always clear, so you could kind of kick back and just enjoy the tune without having to think about its significance. The closing “Flower,” however, was a different animal.

Without her band playing along, Liz simply delivered the tune’s shocking sentiments (“I’ll — — you till your —— turns blue,” et al.) matterof-factly, almost intimately, and the incongruity of it was startling. A rocker dude near me was hooting and hollering throughout the whole song, while his girlfriend looked at him, seeming not to know exactly how to respond.

This is how Liz Phair has made her mark—the fresh-scrubbed prom queen who claims the right to be naughty and assert her sexuality as proudly as all them macho rockers do. That’s fine, but performance-wise, she was a little bland, truth be told. Her voice is serviceable, but no great shakes, stylistically, despite her increased stage confidence. And though her band rocked along with her just fine, one got the sense that it was the prurient factor and the controversy that were selling tickets at Liz Phair shows more than any actual cutting-edge rock (or Matrix-produced pop, for that matter). Also, her set was on the short side, and I heard murmurs of disappointment around me when she left without doing an encore. Phair is some kind of phenomenon, and her place as a trailblazer in the indie-rock universe is assured, but she clearly has a ways to go before she can truly deliver the goods onstage musically.

As for Jason Mraz, he came out after a lengthy wait, looking barely in his late teens, the predictable backward baseball cap atop his head.

His hit single “The Remedy (I Won’t Worry)” was performed early, sending all the young girls into spasms of screaming ecstasy. Other songs from Waiting for My Rocket to Come followed, including the rocking “Too Much Food,” “No Stopping Us,” and moodier songs like “On Love, in Sadness” and “Absolutely Zero.” Though Mraz can sing and emote with focus, I was a lit-

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tle put off by his self-satisfied crooning and Dave Matthews–style jamming. Songs often seemed to go on forever, although a stretch with Mraz alone at the piano was a bit of stylistic diversity.

It seemed an odd pairing, aging sex symbol Phair and teen idol Mraz, and the disparate energy levels of these two performers contributed to the sense that this was a weirdly fractured show, one that went from seeming too short to too long. And one where the most musically intriguing act of the night, Sondre Lerche, wasn’t even heard by the majority of the concertgoers. That’s showbiz, eh?

—Kevin Renick

Core Project The Pageant, August 9 In the spring of 2001, Core Project was in the unfortunate position of being the first of five bands to take the stage at Washington University’s Sounds of the Swamp contest. At stake was a coveted opening slot for Eve 6 and Crazy Town at the Walk In Lay Down semiannual keg-a-thon in the Quad. As it happens, I was one of the contest’s judges. (To put this all in perspective, so was Beatle Bob.) At the time, Core Project’s notorious little round stickers had yet to plaster themselves onto every news bin and telephone pole in the tristate area, so we judges had never heard of them.

Worse yet, rain had moved the event indoors to a lounge much less conducive to attracting passers-by, negating whatever chance they had to work a crowd to their favor. Ever the critic, I shrugged at their tight-but-unspectacular set and eventually helped award first prize to the B-Side Folk Union.

Fast-forward two and a half years, and things are different. Core Project has opened for Jurassic 5 and Ja Rule and toured with Nelly and the St. Lunatics as part of a Midwest-intensive tour that has spanned the majority of 2003 (it concludes October 25 at the Blue Note in Columbia). Their sound is unmistakably fuller, which is to say they’ve addressed a major weakness from that long-ago spring. Their newly expanded lineup is replete with lovable nicknames: Fingaz on keys, Ton’Def on drums, T-Mills on bass, Heistbone on turntables, C-Rock on guitar, and of course the emcees Stek-Wik and Kammasutra. The B-Side Folk Union, meanwhile, is nowhere to be found.

I begrudge no band their success, especially success born of a grassroots (read: sticker-laden) effort like this, but I’m still shrugging. Core Project may be taking all the right steps in credbuilding in the hip-hop world, but at some point along the way, raw, earth-shattering originality has to enter the picture. While the lineup and repertoire have swelled, the songs are all still homogenous; too many rely on the exact same tempo to establish anything like a diverse catalog.

“Hi Fidelity” is the catchiest thing they’ve got

going so far, but it’s tough to imagine it holding water alongside “Right Thurr” and other staples of St. Louis hip-hop radio. Core Project’s self-proclaimed “acid jazz” component, while faint, may be what keeps them an underground hip-hop phenomenon for longer than they would like.

Their performance at the Pageant had the air of a triumphant homecoming, but the crowd was rather thin by the venue’s standards and, save for the enthusiastic mosh pit of 50 or so up front, seemed more drawn in by each other’s company and the $6 cover than the entertainment in particular. In case any road-weary travelers in attendance forgot what city we were in, not one song was allowed to pass without a big shout-out to St. Louis. They pride themselves on positivity in their message, and that’s a nice thing to have in today’s rap world, but couldn’t at least one of the shout-outs have gone to the Loop, or world peace and understanding, or the 99 cent chicken nuggets at Wendy’s?

Off to the side of all the festivities sat one of the band’s merchandising flunkies. Leaning over a table of compact discs, T-shirts, and, of course, the ubiquitous Core Project stickers, the man was completely slumped over, dead asleep amid all the thumping beats, in-your-face rhymes, and steadily building hype. At the risk of being one of the cynical wags who misses a train bound for glory: my sentiments exactly.

—Taylor Upchurch

Nickel Creek Mississippi Nights, August 10 What a difference a year can make.

Last August, Nickel Creek played to an appreciative crowd at the Pageant in support of their second album, This Side. This year, with a Grammy for best contemporary folk album under their belts, the bluegrass trio from San Diego seemed like a much more confident band. And they should feel confident. The group, who’ve been playing together since they were kids, have shared some of the credit for the bluegrass revival in recent years, and their performance at Mississippi Nights showed that credit is welldeserved.

A funkier version of “Smoothie Song ”opened the more than two-hour set, and the band barely took a breath before launching into “The Fox” off their self-titled debut album. That frenetic, energy-driven pace would be a recurring theme throughout the evening, as the band displayed more edginess and, at the same time, much more comfort and looseness with their playing and with the audience.

The venue may have had something to do with that. Compared with the Pageant, Mississippi Nights offered a more intimate atmosphere for their music, bringing the players and the audience closer together. The standing-roomonly crowd was just as into the show as man-

continued on page 17

PLAYBACK ST. LOUIS

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Three to See 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.

First, a correction: Last month I wrote the Tory Z Starbuck review under the name Orb Zoomer. Becky from the Hi-Pointe encouraged me to check out the show and she said it was “very experimental.” I should have asked her the name of the group, but I’d say their experiment worked really well. Also, the singer in Whoppers Taste Good’s costume was not inspired by Fredbird.

Clatter—I must admit, I have a real bond with this husband and wife team. After all, we both moved to Seattle at one point to play music, decided to get the hell out, and moved back to the great state of Missouri. Amy Humphrey and Joe Hayes make up Clatter, a two-piece bass-and-drum rock band that’s fueled with so much energy and high volume on stage that they are likely to knock all the pictures off a club’s wall. Humphrey’s melodic voice fits perfectly over her heavy bass lines, and she’s able to carry the melody of songs

even when the music becomes an appealing, heavy wall of noise. Their show at Frederick’s provoked the audience to ask for encores, and the band amusingly declined. This is the kind of local talent we have, and it makes me proud to be from the Show-Me State.

Lung Dust—This original and heavy threepiece have far more guitar riffs than they do vocals and they literally tear it up on stage.

Loyal headbangers and aspiring guitar players

who are interested in something fresh and creative should check them out. After hearing them play, it’s easy to get a rush from all the distorted guitar hooks, power chords, and brutal drumbeats. No doubt, their live set can be as addictive as nicotine for a chain smoker and any hunger for electric guitar is easily satisfied.

Dozemarypool—This four-piece rock group has a very appealing mix of guitar and keyboards, and they manage to come up with melodies that make it impossible to doze off at their shows. Their song “Sectioned Pets” has a sound that demands to be played over and over in the car or full blast on a stereo; and it sounds amazing live. Certainly, their musicianship is at a very high level and I’d say they have catchy lyrics— except that it’s impossible to understand any of them. On “Sectioned Pets,” it’s not even worth trying, but the feel and the melody is all there and they’re certainly worth seeing.

—John Kujawski Clatter’s Joe Hayes and Amy Humphrey.

September 2003

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Backstage Pass dolin player Chris Thile, who threw his whole body into his performance and bounced around the stage on spring-loaded feet. Wherever he gets his energy from, there’s a lot of it. (Not to be outdone, the bassist launched into an impromptu Riverdance rendition later). Clearly, these people enjoy what they do.

The band has a devoted following, and songs that have become popular favorites were instantly recognized and had the crowd cheering. Fiddle player Sara Watkins’ vocals on “Reasons Why” and “Sabra Girl” were breathier and stronger at the same time. She and guitarist brother Sean may have a little more reserve than Chris, but their playing is still decidedly physical.

The band also played several new songs, some of which will hopefully show up on the band’s next album, which they’re scheduled to start recording this winter. Especially entertaining were playful and unexpected pieces, like a rendition of “Stay Awake” from Mary Poppins, the Beatles’ “Tax Man,” or the inclusion in “The Lighthouse Tale” of an interlude from Wilco’s “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart.”

The band’s encore, though, was the highlight of the evening. Unplugging and stepping away from the microphones, they urged the audience to gather closer to hear the four-song acoustic set, which included “26 Miles,” a number from Sean’s solo album of the same name, and rounded out with the hymn “Be Thou My Vision, ”with much of the audience singing along.

And maybe that sets a new standard for judging a concert: a good band can make a crowd cheer. A great band like Nickel Creek can make a crowd absolutely silent.

—Jeffrey Ricker

Human League The Pageant, August 11 Maybe I didn’t see enough concerts in the ’80s. Or maybe I’ve forgotten that the sounds of synthesized pop with a drum machine leave you feeling some sense of cool disconnect.

Either way, Human League’s lead singer, Philip

Phil Oakey and Co. onstage at the Pageant.

Photo by Tom Keller.

from page 15

any other BUBG show.

There is a warmth that generates from the stage and makes the listener feel enveloped in the proceedings; participation is not an option. A lot of this comes from Kari Liston. As a front “man,” she is the perfect object of attention and affection. She comes across as that big sister you always wished you had—too cool by far, but so funny that the coolness is not threatening— someone that you want to be around. When she opens her mouth to sing, what pours out is a pure bassy tone that you know is going to mellow into perfect honey with time. Although Liston is in her 20s, she sounds like a singer who has been around for much longer. Her voice on this particular night was a bit hoarse due to the intense schedule of the last week, but that just gave it a little more edge and added a little more emotion to a delivery that reeks of emotion.

Jeremy Segel-Moss is the tireless member of the band, always making sure that every detail is just right and every person in the room is acknowledged by the end of the night. He is this ball of energy (and crazy hair) throughout the evening. However, when he picks, he leans over his guitar and focuses all that energy into those six strings. He creates the solid tracks on which the Gang lives. Rounding out the Gang is the harmonica position filled originally by Adam Andrews, who is now playing with the band only occasionally. Gladly, he was there Saturday night to add the textured highs and sad wallowy lows that his harmonica ably offers. On any given night, you can find any one of a dozen artist filling the third (and sometimes fourth) spot, including John Erblich, Matt Murdick, Eric McSpadden, Sharon Foehner, and many Bottoms Up Blues Gang more.

Pop’s Blue Moon, August 16 The Saturday night show Whenever I go to see this band, I Kari Liston of BUBG. (as well as the previous night) think about fabric—let’s say cotton, just was the celebration of two years as a group, as to get us away from the synthetics. The beauty well as an opportunity to get some live tracks of the blues community, perhaps better than any down for their follow-up to South Broadway other in this town, is its ability to keep that thread vibrant and strong, mostly to the edges. If Blues. The fabric was displayed in vivid detail on you have gotten this far into our special blues Saturday night, with guest performers Bennie issue of Playback St. Louis, you will know what I Smith, Eric McSpadden, and Sharon Foehner representing the strong center and the Bottoms Up am talking about.

Blues Gang filling out the edges, perfectly and The Bottoms Up Blues Gang (also known as with the intention of some day being that midBUBG or the Gang) is a trio made of Jeremy dle. This is the beauty of the blues in St. Louis.

Segel-Moss, Kari Liston, and a third player to be It is an art that demands respect for tradition, but revealed sometimes the night of the show. The urges its participants to go and find their own harmonica spot, previously filled by Adam sound. The Gang personifies what it is to be Andrews, is filled by a rotating list of some the blues musicians in this town, and they do it with best musicians in St. Louis. Though this particuamazing grace and skill. lar Saturday night was a recording night (for their next album), the feel, for the most part, was like —Jim Dunn Oakey, along with backing vocalists Susanne Sulley and Joanne Catherall, spent most of their concert detached from the audience, playing to the venue and not the people. It probably didn’t help that a barrier kept the audience three feet from the stage.

I had great hopes for this show. As I was a child of the ’80s and a junkie for New Wave and synth-pop, Human League helped define the music of my generation. They exploded on the New Wave/pop scene with “Don’t You Want Me” in 1981 and followed with a string of synthpop hits throughout the ’80s and early ’90s.

Why, then, did I leave feeling disappointment and not fascination? Perhaps it was because Oakey’s voice suffered throughout the evening.

Known for deep, strong vocals, he experienced problems hitting longer and higher notes as the concert progressed, sometimes with cringeinducing results. My hope is that Oakey fought through some throat problems or possibly a cold and gave his best to perform for his fans.

Oakey began showing signs of struggle on “Mirror Man,” three songs into the set. The strain continued through most of the songs, including “Open Your Heart” and “Heart Like a Wheel,” before sounding painful on an emotionless version of “Human.”

Sulley provided one of the few standouts of the evening, going solo on a warm rendition of “One Man in My Heart.” Hearing Oakey’s minor solo hit, “Together in Electric Dreams,” for the encore also offered a great surprise.

As icons for me and my ’80s generation, Human League holds great memories of an era past. Unfortunately, this performance won’t be one of them. But at least I can still listen to their albums.

—Tom Keller

PLAYBACK ST. LOUIS

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A Thursday night in early summer. The weather is still tolerable, devoid of the humidity that will come in a few weeks. The night is lively, the Cardinals are in town, and the area around the stadium buzzes with life. The game is going well.

A few blocks south of Busch, on a one-block stretch of Broadway, three different bands at three different bars are unpacking their gear and testing their sound. Patrons are dining, watching the bands idly, asking their servers, “When does the band start?” and then, inevitably, “What kind of music do they play?” followed by, “Are they good?”

They play the blues. And, yes, they are good.

There is something magical going on in the South Broadway blues district on Thursday nights. History, in the firm of blues legends Bennie Smith and Oliver Sain, comes to life. The up-and-coming Brian Curran, joined on harmonica by Eric McSpadden, proves that the blues are still alive and well. At the Broadway Oyster Bar, BB’s Jazz, Blues and Soups, and the Beale on Broadway, these three groups take the stage every week, delighting those who love the blues, those who always thought they hated the blues, and even those who just stumble in after a baseball game.

Bennie Smith and the Urban Blues Express start the night off, beginning at 8 p.m. at the Broadway Oyster Bar. Bennie is a St. Louis treasure, born in our City in October of 1933. His musical resume includes teaching Ike Turner to play some guitar, playing with Chuck Berry, and recording with Little Ann—later known as Tina Turner. He played with the first black band to ever appear on local television. He toured Europe five times with his group, Big Bad Smitty. Now, as he approaches 70, Bennie plays locally with the Urban Blues Express, a group that includes bassist Sharon Foehner, drummer Chuck Wolters, and a revolving group of musicians.

Bennie is, above all else, a guitar player. For a three-dollar cover charge, you’ve bought yourself the chance to see a master at work. Bennie sits in a plastic chair onstage, a cup of coffee filled with sugar or a cold soda near his feet. He wears a tie, PHOTOS BY MOLLY HAYDEN

no matter what the weather is. Sitting near the stage, beneath the strands of party lights, you can watch his fingers move over the strings, knowing that he’s played these songs a thousand times before in a thousand different venues, and yet feeling that there’s nothing mechanical or rote about Bennie Smith’s performance.

He sings crowd favorites like “Stand By Me” in his strong, weathered voice, and you get the chills. When Sharon Foehner takes the mic to belt out “Built for Comfort,” Bennie looks up at her and nods slightly before looking back down at his guitar and continuing to play.

Bennie Smith has been in dozens of bands throughout his career, but the Urban Blues Express is special. John May, chairman of the St. Louis Blues Society and music producer at BB’s,

says the group is so interesting because of how mixed it is. “You have old, young. Black, white.

Men and women. You don’t get any more mixed than that.” More than just their mixed composition, the band is a group of bandleaders, all willing to put their own egos aside to play with one

of the best. And Bennie is still one of the best.

May, who has been a Bennie Smith fan for 20 years, says he’s better now than he was when he was in his 50s. “This is what he does and this is what he loves. And when you see him, he’s got total energy and a real sly with and a smile. He’s having fun. And it sucks people into having fun with Bennie Smith.”

Bennie Smith’s music is versatile, but when he plays the blues, it’s the blues like you imagine them to be, heartfelt and soulful. At the Oyster Bar, the candles on the tables flicker and you swing your feet off a bench that’s too high off the ground. You feel like you’ve been transported to another place and time. The smells of Cajun food are in the air, oyster shells are scattered on the ground around the trees, and Bennie Smith’s voice fills the night.

It would be easy to stay at the Oyster Bar all night, until a band’s final song ends at midnight, but there is more to see up the road. After a few hours, when the baseball game is starting to let out and fans in red start entering the bar, it’s time to move on.

One block north, on the other side of the street, the Beale on Broadway is just heating up.

The powerful sound system ensures that you can hear the music well before you reach the door to the patio and pay your four dollars for admission. Brian Curran and Eric McSpadden go onstage at nine, and as you grab your drink and pass the hanging ferns to a table near the front, you realize this is a totally different style of blues. This is country blues, the blues of the Mississippi delta.

The Beale is a gritty little bar, with tables lining one side of the narrow patio, a small dance area near the front, and a raised stage with the lights of Highway 40 in the background. Brian sits onstage; two other guitars in their stands sit next to him. Eric McSpadden also has a chair, but he’s just as likely to stalk the stage as he plays his harmonica. This is a strange collaboration of musicians. Brian is a white kid in his twenties, about a half-century younger than Bennie Smith and Oliver Sain. He wears his hair long under his black cowboy hat and spends

September 2003

much of his set telling stories, doing shots, and smoking cigarettes. Eric McSpadden is a black man in his fifties, a harmonica player with international experience. He talks rarely between songs and only drinks coffee. Brian’s raspy vocals are soft and melodic, while Eric’s voice cuts to the heart, screams into the night, beckons passers-by to stop and come in. When asked how they ended up on stage together, Eric shrugs and says, “We just decided to do the gig together.” As you listen to them tonight, you’re glad they did.

Brian is one of the best picker and slide players in the area today. He plays most of his gigs around town alone, just him and his guitars. He is endearing as he stops between songs to do a shot of peppermint schnapps and talk about his most recent trip to his parents’ for dinner. When he picks up his guitar again, he stomps out the beat with his foot and sings, cover songs like “Stagger Lee” or original tunes like “Jesus on the Bass.”

With Eric McSpadden’s accompanying harmonica, Curran’s songs are given added texture.

McSpadden has been playing professionally for over 30 years, and he can be found haunting the Broadway blues district almost any night of the week. He is what May calls a “sparse player,” someone who doesn’t feel the need to fill every second of a song with extra notes and superfluous playing. He plays crisp solos that invite the listener in. On this night, as he goes into one of these solos, Brian looks up and smiles. Later, when the two do a rendition of “Mind Your Own Business,” Eric yells into the microphone and Brian actually laughs out loud. You can’t help but laugh out loud, too.

As the hour approaches midnight , there is one stop left on your Thursday tour of South

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Broadway. You drop a few dollars into the band’s tip jar, nod goodbye, and cross the street to BB’s Jazz, Blues and Soups. Oliver Sain is playing and the doorman asks you for five dollars. It’s not much to pay to see a man who’s played with Elmore James, started his own St. Louis–based recording studio, and written and performed in a number of songs that hit Billboard’s R&B charts.

Sain has been on Good Morning America and NPR, and has received numerous lifetime achievement awards. Like Bennie Smith down the block, Sain is one of the St. Louis blues legends.

The music at BB’s goes until 2:30 a.m., and as you grab your drink and find a table near the band, the place is starting to get crowded. It’s a bar where musicians gather after their own gigs; later, you’re certain to see Brian Curran wander over after his show ends at 1:00. Sharon Foehner has been known to stop in after the Oyster Bar closes, and other musicians playing down the road in Soulard will make an appearance.

In addition to the musicians gathered around the bar, there is always an impressive assembly of musicians on the stage. The band is billed as Oliver Sain’s R&B All Stars, and anyone who’s anyone is welcome. Fontella Bass, Ike Turner, and Little Milton stop by whenever they’re passing through town, and these unadvertised, spontaneous sessions become the stuff of legend.

Local stars like Marcia Evan, Jimmy Hines, and Matt Murdick take the stage, ensuring the shows are never the same two weeks in a row. Oliver Sain is known for his eye for talent, and many weeks he introduces new musicians to the stage for the first time.

This is your third style of blues in one night, and you’re starting to appreciate how broad the term “blues” really is. Oliver Sain was playing R&B before it was known as R&B. Born in Mississippi in 1932. Sain started his musical career playing the drums, sitting in with acts like Howlin’ Wolf. It wasn’t long before he switched to the saxophone, and in 1955, he moved to Chicago where he played jazz standards at many of the area’s white clubs. He eventually met Little Milton and Ike Turner, both of whom were playing in the St. Louis area. Little Milton’s gig was at the Club Manhattan in East St. Louis; Oliver is often quoted as saying, “I came in 1959 to play a weekend with Little Milton, and I’ve been stranded here ever since.”

Since being “stranded” over 40 years ago, Oliver Sain has become one of the city’s most famous and beloved musicians. He has been a staple at BB’s in its three separate incarnations, filling the bar on Monday nights in the ’70s and

returning every time the bar has reopened since.

In 1996, BB’s opened in its present form, and Oliver Sain was given Thursday nights for life.

On this night, Oliver Sain sits in front of a keyboard with his keyboard slung over his neck.

He pounds out the opening notes to a song and the crowd howls. BB’s is the most polished bar you’ve been to tonight, with a shiny wooden bar, photos and paintings of blues and jazz masters carefully hung on the walls, and tablecloths on the tables, but the crowd here is just as rowdy as those in the other two. Oliver leans into the microphone and sings, “Put on your red dress,” and several people get up to dance in the small area in front of the stage. In your corner by the bar, you start to dance, too.

The hours with Oliver Sain pass quickly, and before you know it, the house lights have been turned up and last call has come and gone. Out on the street, in the quiet of an early Friday morning, you smile to yourself, thinking of something John May said earlier in the evening.

“We’re very special in St. Louis, because we’re not competitive as musicians. We’re nurturing.”

Brian Curran agreed. “When I started, I sucked.

But all the musicians here are so supportive, willing to give you constructive criticism.”

It’s a good thing to know. Thursday nights with Bennie Smith, Oliver Sain, Brian Curran, and Eric McSpadden won’t go on forever, but the blues in St. Louis aren’t going away any time soon.

WE TALK WITH WRITER/PRODUCER ANGELO PIZZO

By Leah Benson This summer, St. Louis welcomed the filming of feature film The Game of Their Lives, as some natives from the Hill watched a story from their younger soccer years recreated before their eyes.

I had the wonderful opportunity to interview writer and co-producer Angelo Pizzo about his writing, the film, and his experience under the Arch. It was one of those sweltering hot days in late July when I met Angelo downtown. The crew was prepping an interior hotel scene from 1950 as Angelo and I headed for the nearest air conditioner.

This film has been quite the buzz in St. Louis the past couple of months. Have you found that you’ve been getting the cooperation you need in St. Louis?

Yes. It’s been a great experience. We fought very hard to shoot here, David [Anspaugh, director] and I. You know they wanted to shoot in Canada? We felt [St. Louis] was a good location, as much a part of the equation as the actors you hire. The details, the texture of the place, the faces. You can’t replicate that from the pool of people in Toronto every time. [Laughs] The welcoming, the enthusiasm, and the support we’ve had from the people on the Hill has been great.

You seem to have a love and flair for writing “underdog becomes big dog” sports movies, given the success of Hoosiers and Rudy. What sets The Game of Their Lives apart from those two films?

A couple of things. One is, as opposed to Hoosiers or Rudy or any other film I’ve done, it’s a true ensemble piece. It’s not about one person, one person’s point of view, one person’s journey.

I’m telling multiple stories. I’m really telling the story of the team as opposed to a single guy. It feels different from the other stories, also, because it’s concentrated within three weeks.

So, it’s very compacted in terms of time. Also, I knew very little about soccer. I did a lot of research, watched a lot of games. Basketball is the sport I grew up with. And football, of course.

Did you come to St. Louis to do any of the research for your writing?

No, I didn’t. I really did all the research from the book The Game of Their Lives, some other books having to do with the Hill. Normally, I do travel, but I didn’t feel a need to this time. I got a feel for it through the pictures and book. I’ve been to Italian sections in big cities.

Was it hard to give your characters a voice since they really exist, knowing they would be on set for filming?

I had the experience with Rudy writing existing characters. I found it to be somewhat of a shocking experience. I didn’t really want to write Rudy the way Rudy was; I wanted to write my interpretation of Rudy. So I told him to stop talking to me six weeks before I started writing. I didn’t really want to talk to the guys [real-life characters of The Game] because I wanted to be free to create the voices for them. This is not a docudrama; this is a dramatic rendering of a three-week period of these guys’ lives. What I’ve tried to do, to paraphrase a legal expression, is to try to adhere to the spirit of the truth if not to the letter of the truth. I have to have the freedom to invent in order to tell a story with a beginning, middle, and an end in a three-week period of time. The essence of all drama is conflict. So, unless you have obstacles, conflict, and so forth, interpersonal and intra-personal, then you basically don’t have anything... I think the power of this [movie] is that it’s true. But I really wanted the freedom to create a [character] arc, because people’s lives don’t lay out in three natural acts.

What is the most challenging part of being a writer?

I think just getting to my desk every day to start writing, because I find writing a torturous, unpleasant experience. Dorothy Parker’s great line is so apropos: “I hate writing, but I love having written.”

Do you know what type of distribution you’re going to be getting?

No. And we don’t know when it will be released. We will be ready to do our test screenings in January or February.

Have you been out in St. Louis much?

Not too much. We’ve been restricted with time. We’ll go to Café Eau and the Cheshire. On the weekends, we’re exhausted.

How was Gavin Rossdale’s performance, given that this is his first major movie role?

He was terrific. He’s also a very generous, giving guy. He was the opposite of anything you would project onto what you might think of a rock star, you know, attitude. He was just great.

One of the things that comes across is he’s a very intelligent guy, well-educated, cultured, just a very polite human being. Very considerate. He was a great joy. I’m looking forward to seeing him in Rio. PHOTO (TOP): Bert Williams, goalkeeper for Wolverton Wolves (1946-1956) and English National Team keeper.

Williams recorded 24 caps for England including the infamous match 1950 World Cup against the USA in Brazil. The U.S. played the game of their lives, knocking off the English at their own game, 1-0. Credit: Allsport Hulton Deutsch/ALLSPORT

Rider Strong seduces Jordan Ladd before the flesh-eating virus strikes in Cabin Fever. Photo courtesy Lions Gate Films.

CABIN FEVER (Lions Gate Films, Rated R) The humor that inhabits most cult movies is kind of off-putting for mainstream audiences most of the time—it isn’t that they don’t think that it is funny, per se; they just think that it is weird. Then all of the weird kids see their opportunity to claim their weird territory, and thus comes the legacy of being a cult movie. A good recent example of this is Wes Anderson’s Rushmore. Before The Royal Tenenbaums came out and bridged the gap between Anderson’s sense of humor and the mainstream’s, viewers fell into one of two camps: they either (a)

September 2003 thought Rushmore was weird or (b) loved Rushmore, but constantly got into arguments about it with people who thought it was weird.

This year’s first entry into the Halloweentimed scary movie fray is Eli Roth’s Cabin Fever, and it has its weird sense of humor firmly in hand for the battle. Cabin Fever is about five college-age kids (among whom are Rider Strong of TV’s Boy Meets World, Cerina Vincent of Not Another Teen Movie, and Jordan Ladd, Cheryl’s daughter) staying in a run-down shack in the woods for vacation, only to get exposed to a flesh-eating virus. The lack of a “bad guy” might hurt the movie in the eyes of fright-hungry viewers, as the only real enemy at any given time is whoever has the virus. What’s more, before the first principal character gets exposed to the virus and before much in the way of anything major plot-wise happens, there’s a horde of only marginally good-humored racist and homophobic jokes, which will put a lot of people off. This isn’t to imply that the movie’s first third is boring; it isn’t, but the film gains a considerable amount of momentum once the virus starts causing trouble, and it is at this point in the movie that the audience will either take to it or decide that they hate it.

The average, jaded moviegoer won’t find Cabin Fever particularly scary, but that’s okay, as

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hardly any horror movies ever are. What’s more, even slightly above-average horror films have a tendency to make a disproportionately high amount of money, because above-average horror films are rare as hell. Besides, Cabin Fever is gory enough to sate the appetite of the horror movie crowd, as Roth has a steady hand and a complete lack of conscience or distinction between good and bad taste when throwing in scenes of discovering the presence of the virus while engaging in foreplay or dismembered, diseaseridden body parts of principal characters spread over the cabin’s yard. If there is anything more jarring than Roth’s willingness to make off-color jokes, it is his willingness to kill everyone he can in the bloodiest way possible. The fact that Roth used to spend his time working at Troma Studios will surprise almost no one.

It’s hard to say at this point whether or not Cabin Fever will be a financial success in the box office (it is indie distributor Lions Gate’s widest and most expensive release to date), but it doesn’t have to make much money to recoup its low budget, so it seems a safe acquisition on the studio’s part. Besides, if it follows the path of the cult movie for which it seems destined, it will likely make the bulk of its money in its video release, anyway.

—Pete Timmermann

THE HOUSEKEEPER (Palm Pictures, Not Rated)

In The Housekeeper, Emilie Duquenne moves first into Jean-Pierre Bacri’s home, then into his bed. Photo courtesy Palm Pictures.

Perhaps the most endearing thing about Claude Berri’s The Housekeeper is that it makes no pretense about the May-December relationship. Jacques (Jean-Pierre Bacri), a divorced sound engineer, and Laura, the sweet-faced filly he hires to clean up his Paris flat, have literally nothing in common: not fashion, not music, not intellectual inclinations, not food. She’s energetic and looking for love; he’s placed his emotion and virility on indefinite leave.

The plot isn’t much, admittedly. Laura replies to an ad for a housekeeper, enters Jacques’ life and eventually his apartment, and after that his bedroom. They make love, rinse, and repeat. continued on page 36

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Play by Play Reason, and Bob Dylan unleashed his born-again abomination, Saved.

Fortunately, Guided by Voices seems exempt.

While not as big as the Stones, GBV has long since earned its title of “seminal indie rock band,” inspiring legions to invest in four-track recorders.

Prone to changing lineups, frontman and songwriter Bob Pollard has brought together musicians to develop the band’s unique sound: classic rock mixed with punk and mild psychedelia, usually served up in less than two minutes.

Okay, so most of the songs on Earthquake Glue run three or four minutes, but they’re excellent songs. And amnesty is granted to the rough edges. “My Son, My Secretary, My Countryman” opens with a haunting fanfare played by an eighth-grade brass band and hearkens back to GBV’s older, lo-fi albums. Wobbly sound effects throb throughout the crashing “I’ll Replace You With Machines”; the effect is like listening to the song on a deteriorating cassette tape.

But Earthquake Glue suggests that not only can GBV turn out enjoyable rough sketches of songs, but also they’re adept at fully developed, more complex numbers. “Beat Your Wings,” “A Trophy Mule in Particular,” and the micro-epic “Secret Star” shift gears repeatedly without a hitch. Meanwhile, new sounds are explored; the mellow wall of sound opening on “Mix Up the Satellites” wouldn’t be out of place on a Yo La Tengo album. GBV has enjoyed taking its time to evolve from a garage band to a studio band (though I doubt they’re through with the garage), and songs like these prove patience is a virtue. With Earthquake Glue and last year’s excellent Universal Truths and Cycles, it’s evident that Pollard has found a lineup best willing and best able to realize the full potential of his earlier sketches. Here’s hoping they continue.

—Jessica Gluckman OVER THE RHINE: OHIO (Back Porch) Ohio, the latest effort by Cincinnati’s Over the Rhine, is almost as exciting as its name sug-

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gests. Karin Bergquist and Linford Detweiler drag on the tribute to their homeland for 21 songs. Evidently, it took them the span of two discs to realize there are only so many ways a folk/pop duo can salute the Buckeye State.

Since forming at the end of the ’80s, Over the Rhine has made its name as the earnest little band that could. Previous records like the underground hit Good Dog Bad Dog and 2001’s Films for Radio tapped Detweiler’s multi-instrumental talents and Bergquist’s soulful, white-girl crooning to create songs that were serviceable, if not inspired.

On Ohio, however, the band makes a misguided attempt to expand its boundaries. On the hip-hop–inspired “Nobody Number One,” Bergquist lays a lame rhyme over a beat/chord combo that would make even Ashanti and Ja Rule turn up their noses. The band breaks out the Casio on “When You Say Love” to create a New Wave–tinged nightmare. And the psychedelic sonic pallet of “How Long Have You Been Stoned” verges on all-out silliness.

In a telling moment in the song “Long Lost Brother,” Detweiler pleads, “Jesus and Mary can you carry us across this ocean into the arms of forgiveness.” Never mind Jesus and Mary; after this self-indulgent double disc, the band should be asking their listeners for forgiveness.

Since 2003 is Ohio’s bicentennial year, this record could be considered Over the Rhine’s birthday present to the state. If it is a gift, let’s hope the band includes a receipt so Ohio can trade this thing in for store credit.

—Ross Todd JOSH ROUSE: 1972 (Rykodisc) Out September 8 is 1972, Josh Rouse’s fourth album and the follow-up to last year’s Under Cold Blue Stars. With 1972, Rouse set out to

make a retro-sounding record, and in that sense, this can be thought of as somewhat of a period piece.

As Rouse points out in his liner notes, 1972 is the year he was born and is the model year of his Fender Telecaster, on which he writes most of his songs. But primarily it is, musically, part of an era that remains a big inspiration for the singer/songwriter. Rouse could have easily played it safe with this release and mined his signature sound and songwriting style for another album (or ten). But thankfully, he’s not willing to rest on his laurels, and the risk he’s taken with 1972 pays off. Diehard Rouse fans will note the departure, but will also discover that all the things that drew them to his music in the past are still there.

Case in point: the bookends to the album.

The opening title track is so good and so easy to get lost in that it’s hard to leave it long enough to listen to the rest of the album. I personally found myself repeatedly revisiting that track alone for the first ten days I had possession of my advance copy. Likewise, the album’s closer, “Rise,” finds Rouse in his uniquely top form and is a wonderful deterrent for pushing the eject button. “Love Vibration,” the first single off of 1972, is an infectious, feel-good track tailormade for summer and complete with a talk-back chorus that sounds straight from the Welcome Back, Kotter theme. (And it actually works.)

Although musical influences of the early ’70s abound on this record, Rouse should be commended for not merely giving the songs the most obvious sonic nods of the period. The instrumentation of songs such as “James” has a definite soul/R&B vibe. But (whether intentionally or not) something about Rouse’s Midwest roots comes through in the vocals, adding a tinge of

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September 2003

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Quick Hits LEONA NAESS: LEONA NAESS (MCA Records) British singer/songwriter Leona Naess has a sound too overproduced for my tastes, but it is hard to deny her musical talents. The lyrics discuss the usual topics of overcoming lost love and surviving life’s daily struggles. Luckily, Naess’s attractive vocal qualities never become too weighed down in the emotional baggage. The overall result is a fairly safe record that should provide a calming influence. (DH) THE NEW AMSTERDAMS: WORSE FOR THE WEAR (Vagrant) An effective piano beat helps to generate a charming atmosphere that resonates throughout the New Amsterdams’ third album. Although it serves as a side project for Get Up Kids vocalist/guitarist Matthew Pryor, this band stands up very well as its own entity. Presented within a mellow foundation, the lyrics retain the poignancy of the Get Up Kids’ best work. (DH) PATRICK PARK: LONELINESS KNOWS MY NAME (Hollywood) A fiercely romantic record wound in a score of tightly layered instruments (guitar, piano, strings, sitar, brass, cello, woodwinds, mandolin, banjo) and Park’s assured voice, which moves fluidly from lilting falsetto to rooftop exclamations. The record’s got the harmonious push of later Elliott Smith, but it’s Smith with a louder heartbeat. “To say I’ll be alright would be a risky bet,” Park tells one song’s could-be lover, “’Cause I’m about as good as I’m gonna get.”

And it’s quite, quite good. (SS) PUFFY AMIYUMI: NICE (Bar None) Ami Onuki and Yumi Yoshimura have become superstars in Japan with their youthful personas and easily digestible pop tunes. Recognized in their country as Puffy, the girls added their names (for obvious reasons) and seem poised to

attract an array of young American fans. Nice shifts strangely through genres that include power pop, the romantic ballad, and even an upbeat ska track. (DH) ROBINELLA & THE CC STRING BAND: ROBINELLA & THE CC STRING BAND (Sony) Originally playing as the Stringbeans at the University of Tennessee, Robinella and the CC String Band provide an intriguing mix of bluegrass tunes. They nicely incorporate fiddles and mandolins and create a successful regional tone.

Vocalist Robinella Contreras even sings in the manner of Ella Fitzgerald and manages to retain her originality on several impressive tracks. (DH) STATISTICS: STATISTICS EP (Jade Tree) This new project, written and recorded by Denver Dalley (Desaparecidos) is a surprising listen, certainly not something to file away under run-of-the-mill. Synthesized into memory, the EP of five rhythmic tracks was released on Jade Tree in mid-July. From low-key instrumentals to upbeat tracks with unforgettable and unexpected combinations of textured sounds, the record is just great music.

Dalley’s casually hushed and distinctly nonemo sound lets the music take the lead in “Another Day.” The second track, “A Memory,” is a stirring instrumental—rather, an introduction acting as an elaborate prequel to rich, unabashed, lingering sound. Build it up, and let it go into the pliable “Hours Seemed Like Days.”

A second instrumental, “A Flashback,” with its slightly dark and daunting melody, pulls the EP to its end at “Cure Me.” A true finish to an unpredicted mix—industrial beats turned peppered and synthesized as Dalley’s whispers lighted the melody unobtrusively. (MJ) STIGMATO INC.: REALITY CHECK (Utensil) Barcelona’s Stigmato Inc. showcases an array of diverse instruments within the framework of

basic house music. The tunes have tremendous energy and lack the mundane nature that sometimes permeates the genre. “Strive to Be Happy” is a highlight and includes attractive vocals, several melodic solos, and an enjoyable, hip-shaking beat. (DH) THE TRIP DADDYS: DOUBLE WIDE The first thing I noticed when I heard the Trip Daddys for the first time was the guitar work of Craig Straubinger. The Trip Daddys are a threepiece guitar/bass and drums; they put out so much sound that it’s hard to believe they are only a trio. Their music, heavily influenced by rockabilly, is electric, energetic, and full-sound.

The band’s new recording captures all the feeling of the live shows; tracks such as “Stolen Cadillac” and “All Too Well” are impossible to listen to just once. Good guitar riffs and a solid beat can be heard on all 13 songs, many of which tell stories of women, clubs, and record collections, often with a good sense of humor and catchy hooks. (JK) M. WARD: TRANSFIGURATION OF VINCENT (Merge) A premise that’s tough not to be moved by, this record was written for Ward’s late friend, Vincent O’Brien. The tone Ward achieves— something of a sad pep—helps the record throw off resignation and achieve a humble, quiet illumination. Acoustic guitars, tinkly piano, and Ward’s singed voice—emotive and gravelly high—create tuneful teeth-clenchings written to move us through the inarguable facts of life.

Most memorable are the moving trio of “Undertaker,” “Involuntary,” and “Dead Man,” in which Ward sings, “Dead man, dead man believe/believe you’re a free man at last/at last, dead man/you are free.” (SS)

Contributors: Dan Heaton, Mandy Jordan, John Kujawski, Stephen Schenkenberg

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Play by Play the Ozark Mountain Daredevils’ “Jackie Blue” to what otherwise has a very Marvin Gaye feel. “Flight Attendant,” on the other hand, opens with a few notes of guitar before launching into a tangoesque piano. Those guitar notes are then reprised at the song’s tangential ending, which sounds like something from The Last Waltz.

1972 doesn’t exactly take you back in time, but it’s a great CD to have on the trip.

—Wade Paschall

SEE PAGE 8 to WIN A COPY OF 1972, JOSH ROUSE’S LATEST CD!

PERNICE BROTHERS: YOURS, MINE AND OURS (Ashmont Records) Did you spend most of your adolescence hiding in your bedroom, listening to the Smiths on your headphones, dancing slowly and awkwardly, and pouting over love lost? I have a feeling that most of the members of Pernice Brothers did.

Like a favorite sweater, this album is soft, warm, familiar, and easy to slip into. “Weakest Shade of Blue” channels both Marr and Morrissey. It’s difficult not to think of Mozzer the first time you hear “This love I have for you is ruinous and true.” The opening riffs on “I Remember” echo The Cure’s “In-Between Days” or New Order’s “Dreams Never End.” But Pernice Brothers are no ’80s nostalgia act; rather, artists inspired in their youth by repeated listens to Louder Than Bombs and Head on the Door.

Within single songs, the lead guitar goes from alt-country slide and twang to dreamy 4AD choral effects. Joe Pernice’s delicate voice occasionally flutters into a lonely falsetto, but finds itself at home in the excellent harmonies provided by guest vocalists Warren Zanes and April March. In the tear-inducing “How to Live Alone,” the pained desperation of the refrain “I’m holding on/Let me go/I need to love someone” is buoyed by the warmth of other voices, providing the balance necessary to keep a sad song from crushing’s one will to survive.

Yours, Mine and Ours shares its name with a 1968 Lucille Ball comedy about a widow and widower who marry and pool their 18 children.

The similarities end there. Lyrically, this album is overwhelmed by a failing long-term relationship and captures a broad, but familiar, range of emotions; not only the expected sorrow and frustration, but also moments of bittersweet reflection (“I Remember”) and utter confusion. In “Number Two,” Pernice sings, “You were my life-sucking power monger, even still you were mine,” sharing conflicted emotions we’ve experienced in our worst break-ups.

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Perhaps this is why Pernice Brothers are so strongly reminiscent of the Smiths, not simply for their talent at writing wonderfully poppy but sad songs, but also for their ability to eloquently express troubled emotions familiar to all of us. You may want to try listening to this album in your bedroom.

—Jessica Gluckman SINGAPORE SLING: THE CURSE OF SINGAPORE SLING (Stinky) In the late ’80s and early ’90s, Creation Records’ bands, My Bloody Valentine, Felt, Primal Scream, and Jazz Butcher, all combined British pop sensibilities with feedback, layered sound distortion, and Ronnie Spector–ish lyrics. These bands took the small steps of bands like Wire, the Buzzcocks, and the Jesus and Mary Chain and leapt off the cliff. Now Singapore Sling is taking the dissonance a step further and adding a collage of noise awash in swirling guitars and percussion to stark, bleak lyrics. With Creation’s demise, there have been very few sonically fuzzy bands to emerge, the biggest exceptions being The Warlocks and BRMC. Now, though, that sound is back and back big with Singapore Sling.

The members of Singapore Sling are Icelandic messengers of noise. They’re black and dark and smudgy, ministers of the feedback gospel.

Singapore Sling is the antithesis of quiet pop countrymen Sigur Rós, Mum, or Björk. They thrash about, sonically distorting sound and laying waste to everything in their wake.

The Curse of Singapore Sling, their debut, opens with “Overdriver,” a fuzzy three-minute slice of pure shoegazer brilliance. It pounds, pulses, and contorts, using a dirty, filthy bass to support it. The tempered, upbeat “Secret Garden” is mired in psychedelic fuzz pop. Its lyrical quietness is buoyed by swirling accompanying sounds. “Nuthin’ Ain’t Bad” and “Listen”channel the Jesus and Mary Chain.

What makes these sonic outlaws captivating is that they use every trick in the book. They meld great bass and percussion hooks, intertwining them with noisy guitars and velvety vocals. The end result is a stark debut with complete, layered sounds and well-crafted songs.

The Curse of Singapore Sling delivers chaos and noise, while maintaining quietness and beauty.

Singapore Sling is loud, fast, and out of control.

—Rob Levy TRAILER BRIDE: HOPE IS A THING WITH FEATHERS (Bloodshot Records) Audacity, thy name is Trailer Bride.

Toward the end of September, Bloodshot

Records will issue that band’s fifth CD, which the quartet from Chapel Hill, North Carolina, has audaciously titled Hope Is a Thing With Feathers, after a poem by Emily Dickinson, mostly.

Trailer Bride’s audacity stems not so much from cribbing a title from the acclaimed Amherst recluse or even from fudging the article therein, as from setting Dickinson’s three quatrains to music in the second track—and, incongruously, making her “Hope Is the Thing With Feathers” work as alt-country.

Fronting Trailer Bride is singer-songwriter Melissa Swingle, who also plays rhythm guitar and other instruments (including—yes!—the saw on the title track). Supporting her out-of-kilter phrasing and otherwise wondrous woozy vocals are lead guitarist Tim Barnes, drummer John Bowman, and bassist Daryl White. The quartet clicks here on everything from the languorous opener, “Silk Hope Road,” to the lyrically austere but effective “Lightning” to the cheery twang of “Vagabond Motel,” a winsome love song about life on the road.

Arguably the catchiest track on the 12-track Hope Is a Thing With Feathers comes fourth. On the bouncy but scathing “Mach 1,” Swingle vivisects a Mississippi himbo with a muscle car.

“He’s got a Mach 1 ’73 Ford Mustang sittin’ in the yard,” she drawls. “It’s got a racing stripe and everything, but he drives his girl friend’s car.” Auto eroticism has perhaps never sounded more masturbatory.

It almost goes without saying that not all potential listeners would relish musical matrimony with Trailer Bride. Those daring enough to pop the metaphoric question by popping Hope into the CD player, though, should find the union fruitful.

—Bryan A. Hollerbach YEAR OF THE RABBIT: YEAR OF THE RABBIT (Elektra) The story behind L.A.’s Year of the Rabbit is slightly atypical from that of many of their contemporaries. First, they are somewhat of a not-so-super supergroup; each of the four members used to play in at least one fairly established band, such as Shiner, Season to Risk, and the post-grunge project Failure. Second, lead vocalist/rhythm guitarist/songwriter Ken Andrews is better known for some of the bands he has worked with as continued on page 36

September 2003

Contemporary Art Museum St. Louis

By Rudy Zapf On September 20, the Contemporary Art Museum will open its new space with the inaugural exhibit “A Fiction of Authenticity: Contemporary Africa Abroad.” This is the first of a two-part series on changes that are transforming the Contemporary.

Do we expect too much? Do we really buy into the theme that bigger is better and new can do what the old could not? Does a museum have to inspire, communicate, entertain, educate, elucidate? What about just showing art?

As government support for art evaporates and other sources of funding shy away from even well-respected foundations, can the Forum for Contemporary Art nearly quadruple in size and scope with credibility? Not only has the Forum moved to new digs a few blocks west on Washington, but it’s also renamed itself the Contemporary Museum of Art St. Louis.

Designed by shiny young thing Brad Cloepfil of Allied Works Architecture, the new building is even now receiving the finishing touches in anticipation of its opening gala. Not content with simply increasing the exhibition spaces, Cloepfil has created a building that provides performance/lecture space, education center, courtyard, cafe, and bookshop—all of which are aligned to draw in and engage the public. I’ll admit that the building itself is an open invitation in its use of glass exterior walls for the education center and a lobby floorplan that segue the sidewalk to the interior. It creates curiosity, interest, perhaps engagement, in those who might otherwise remain on the outside.

The Contemporary views its role with the community as one of partnership. Specifically, it places a high priority on its role in the Grand Center/neighborhood coalition. One of its most ambitious programs is New Art in the Neighborhood, which gives talented urban teenagers real experience in the field of visual art. The students come to the program gifted with innate abilities—what they receive from the Contemporary are invaluable opportunities to work in new media and with big-name artists. During the 12-week sessions, a group of neighborhood students explores media beyond the art curricula of most city schools: things such as video making, metalworking, and printmaking. Artists that exhibit at the Contemp share their expertise with them, giving perspectives on what it takes to be a working artist in the real world, because once out of high school, they’ll need to produce a lot of perspiration to back up the inspiration. Along with the fun of working closely with some well-known artists, the group learns to write and articulate about their art.

Early research for the program found that most students with artistic interests were not well prepared to approach colleges with portfolios and artist’s statements (well, there’s a surprise). Fortunately, participants learn the tough and not always easy nuts and bolts of commitment and self-motivation, which improves the odds of success no matter which schools they choose to pursue.

Though New Art in the Neighborhood holds the longevity award at nine years, the Contemp has continued to develop other programs that include the wider scope of the populace (read: “those who are often considered too young or too poor to appreciate art”). Among the many community programs on its roster, the Contemporary offers Peer-to-Peer Docent Training, Lift for Life Academy Charter Middle School, and a new initiative in the Summer Arts Camp.

In Peer-to-Peer, the museum will collaborate with Cardinal Ritter Prep students, whose new building just happens to be catty-corner from the museum. Twenty juniors, hand-picked by the school, will train to be

docents to lead other high school groups through the Contemp’s exhibitions. It sounds impressive: 20 kids who volunteer their time to learn art history and public speaking, so they can try to make sense of contemporary art for a bunch of other kids. And a year later, when they’re seniors, they get to help train the next group of juniors to become docents. If this sounds to you like the start of a Horatio Alger story, raise your hand.

St. Louis’s downtown charter school, Lift for Life Academy, was served by the Contemp with visual arts training to students who would otherwise not receive it. Now that art is in the school’s curriculum, the program will expand to other charter schools in the city.

The Summer Art Camp, which will be offered next year, will help children to experience art intellectually, as well as manually and creatively.

Potentially, this could be a program beyond the pale of other art camps for kids. If this program actually does what the PR sheets say, then kids will

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learn to think about art and why they make certain visual choices, rather than simply learn the processes of making art.

These are lofty ideals that art colleges struggle to maintain. If the Contemporary can help kids become savvy art aficionados, just think what can happen for the STL adult population. The new Contemporary Art Museum St. Louis. Expect much.

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By Rob Levy I have had a pretty crap month lately, so be warned and read on with caution.

What cosmic disaster or brainfart caused Guided by Voices to put the retail-challenged Beatle Bob in their new video? This is insane! His stupidness and BEATLE BOB moronity will be taken to a whole new national level.

Plus, the whole mythos around him as an “ambassador” of the city is crap. The sham that is Beatle Bob is embarrassing, but not surprising; after all, we live in a cesspool of artistic blandness and stupidity.

Can we stop having boring college fratrock–sounding bands and bad punk knockoffs, please? I mean, if Miles Davis can quit smack cold turkey, then all the boring STL Dave Matthews/college boy/white bread sensitiveguy-with-guitar bands can do the same and do something great like read a book or go back to school. STL colleges don’t have enough failed musicians in their graphic designs programs.

Then there is the radio; not even college radio here (except KWUR) has balls anymore. On top

of that, commercial radio really sucks ass. Just when you think it couldn’t get any worse, it does. At least we are home to 3WK, KDHX, our stereos, and other viable alternatives for sound.

Call me old and in the way, but I remember when DJs actually got airtime to be talented and informative and intelligent. I remember the days when Jetlag was on and loads of folks listened. It is not an absurd idea to ask for intelligent programming from more than a handful of radio stations. Nowadays, few have enough gumption to come out of a Good Charlotte song and say it is crap being shilled by the man.

I am also tired of seeing every crap ’80s hair band coming to town. But we keep on going and spending money to see mediocrity.

OK, take a deep breath. She Who Dwells in the Secret Place of the Most High Shall Abide Under the Shadow of the Almighty is the amazingly long title of the new Sinead O’Connor album. Due in September, the album features covers of ABBA and the B-52’s. There’s going to be a melange of new and unreleased stuff, some live tracks, and collaborations from Brian Eno and Massive Attack. This is O’Connor’s last gasp before she retires from the music industry.

London-based DJ Arthur Baker has remixed Interpol’s next single, “Obstacle 1.” Baker rose to fame in the ’90s for his mixes of New Order.

Leatherclad pomposity will gain new heights this month when Suede plays a weeklong residency at the London Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA). They will play a different album each night. To coincide with each show, the band will have artwork, painting, and band-related memorabilia on exhibition.

Wilco’s new album is due in early 2004.

The new Big Star retrospective will feature one new track, as well as songs from Chris Bell’s solo catalog.

Not since Paul Hogan or Air Supply has something so frightening and scary come to the U.S. from Australia. I am talking about The Wiggles. This are an Aussie TV show that has slowly reached Barney-esque fanaticism in our THE WIGGLES

country with their weird songs and jollity.

Imagine New Zoo Review with the dancing and costumes but without the drugs. Or imagine Mr. Rogers split into several people, including a costumer and a choreographer. Their two-day

DAVID BYRNE

run at The Fox last month created a tyke fervor with parents going insane for tickets and kids being generally all weird. It is interesting to note that the madness was so insane that country artist Clint Black flew in just to take his kid to see the show.

David Byrne has collaborated with Scotland’s finest for Lead Us Not Into Temptation. The record is the soundtrack for the film Young Adam. Members of The Delgados, Belle & Sebastian, and Mogwai worked with Byrne on this mostly atmospheric soundtrack.

Besides his soundtrack, Byrne has another wacky project. It is a book and DVD packet entitled Envisioning Emotional Epistemological Information. For this, Byrne used PowerPoint software to create innovative, contemporary, and abstract art. He then compiled the art into a book and threw in 20 minutes of animation to boot.

Paul Weller has signed to V2 Records. Look for a new album from him early in 2004.

Blurster Graham Coxon is tweaking his Ex-B new solo album in the U.K. with producer Stephen Street.

Kevin Shields is composing the score for the soundtrack to Lost in Translation.

California’s All Tomorrow’s Parties has been moved. The show has been fighting for survival, while its East Coast counterpart has all but faded away. Although Yo La Tengo is no longer on the bill, curator Matt Groening has amassed a lineup that includes Modest Mouse, Cat Power, Built to Spill, and The Boredoms. The festival has been scaled to two days, November 8 and 9, and is in Long Beach aboard venues at the docked Queen Mary.

Mercifully, Krist Novoselic of Sweet 75 and that other band, Nirvana, has decided to quit the music industry. He is concentrating on a career in political activism.

Pearl Jam has parted ways with Sony, which appears to only want to release 250,000 live recordings of the band’s tours. The band is going to start their own label so as to annoy everyone else on their own, rather than through the auspices of a capitalist music machine.

After a long process, Northern State has signed to Columbia Records. They are touring this fall with Brassy and The Start.

For the first time anywhere, a home for the

continued on page 29

September 2003

I Think I’ve Said Too Much

By Rev. Mike Tomko

Episode 5: “The Lost Art of Concert Courtesy” While watching friends from Portland play their set at The Rocket Bar last month, I couldn’t help but notice the singer’s obvious aggravation with some of the patrons in the club. It wasn’t until she spoke into the microphone—“Excuse me, can you guys please take your drinks off of our vinyl”—that we were aware of the problem; still, it took five or six calm attempts in order to get them to move their beverages. What is there about a giant stack of vinyl and CDs that would make someone think that they are just giant coasters left there for their drinks? The worst part of the whole situation was that the people who were committing this act were friends of the local band on the bill. Don’t misconstrue my message here, for I don’t mean to scold, but being someone who is active in the local music scene, I couldn’t help but be embarrassed to have people giving our city such a bad name. Think about this concept the next time you complain about national acts skipping St. Louis on their tours.

This event also sheds light on the often-overlooked art of concert courtesy. Here are a few rules for life on the road, as well as in your hometown: • Each band you play with gets at least one copy of your CD free of charge and a T-shirt or stickers, if possible. There is no greater compliment than having someone in a traveling band talk about your record or wear your group’s T-

27

shirt while they are on the road, or even putting your sticker on their van or guitar case. While this does not necessarily apply to the more expensive items (i.e., vinyl), any gesture is greatly appreciated. You may want to also consider making up some cheaper CD-Rs to give out for this purpose, so that you can save your other merch for sale.

• Don’t rob the other bands of their set time by going over on yours.

• The sound guy, bartenders, and security personnel are your friends; treat them like it, because they are just doing their job.

• Every fan deserves your attention! While you may be tired and road-weary, think about how it might feel to be ignored by the one person you came to see. If you are busy at a given moment, excuse yourself politely, and try to make yourself available before the end of the night. The positive effects of this one act of kindness can mean the difference between a storm of free word-of-mouth advertising and a lot of online band trashing. Take your pick.

• Favors can be secured in advance. Imagine yourself traveling on a long tour and not having a place to stay on one of your stops. What you would hope is that one of the other bands would be nice enough to let you and your bandmates stay with them while you are in their city.

Consider this when you are in the opposite situation and someone else needs your assistance.

• Show up on time, and don’t make a habit of canceling gigs. If a venue can’t depend on you, it’s definitely not going to book you again.

• Control your fans/friends. It is not a nice thing to have people who represent you causing trouble with the other fans or with the club. In no way can you be expected to have control over everyone who enters the club with your T-shirt

on, but you can definitely set an example of proper behavior for those who look up to you.

Consider complimenting the other bands on the bill while you are onstage. You shouldn’t just rant about them, but try to mention them and thank them for playing. This will help especially when you are playing on a multi-genre bill and your fans may not be too open to the others’ music.

While these are definitely not all of the regu-

lations for proper show etiquette, certainly adhering to most of the bullets on this list will put forth a sense of professionalism that seems to be lost on most bands today. Don’t fear that we have strayed too far off track, for next month we will pick right back up with a stirring lecture on putting together a demo. See you next time!

Tune in next month for Episode 6: “CD Spit Polish: Making Your Demo Shine.”

Mike Tomko is the acting program and music director for KGLX, the Galaxy, the radio station of Webster University, www.kglx.org. louie_zou@yahoo.com

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Matt Murdick: Working the Keys

By Jeremy Segel-Moss There are currently several generations of blues musicians performing and living in St. Louis. However, running down the list of talented musicians, there is something that becomes glaringly obvious: there are very few piano players. Matt Murdick has been pounding keys on the blues scene for over ten years. He has played with the jazz fusion–oriented Bebops, Buffalo Bob and the Bedroom Blues Band, the Soulard Blues Band, Beau Shelby’s Band, the Cryin’ Shame, and Macy Thomas. Currently, he is the featured pianist with the Rich McDonough Band, Good Night Irene, and the St. Louis Social Club.

Can you describe the St. Louis blues sound?

There is a pretty wide variance, but there is definitely a St. Louis style to everything. More than anything else, it comes from the way bass players and drummers play together. There’s almost a kind of St. Louis shuffle; it’s just a different vibe, and the chords are different. Straight Chicago or Memphis style tend not to have beef in their chords, but you’ll hear plenty of color when St. Louis musicians play.

Is there a St. Louis style of blues piano?

There aren’t too many guys playing the St. Louis blues–style piano. The definitive guy would be Bob Lohr right now. It’s almost a combination of boogie-woogie and Otis Spann; it lies somewhere in between.

Are you a St. Louis music history buff?

You know, I learn something new about blues history every day. I was fortunate enough to see James Crutchfield play back ten years ago. I’ve seen Silvercloud play a couple of times, and that’s amazing.

It’s scary for a guy his age to play like he does. I’ve seen

As a musician who plays so many of the same songs each night, how do you keep it interesting?

Because there aren’t that many piano players around, I get to play with different guys all the time, and bands in St. Louis are pretty good about coming up with their own arrangements of a lot of the chestnuts.

Does the ability to play with several bands ever cause problems, or is there common understanding among musicians?

For the most part, for as good as the musicianship is in St. Louis, there really isn’t that feeling of cutthroat. There is a real camaraderie between the guys in St. Louis. I’ll play a gig with Eric [McSpadden] one day and then compete with him across the street the next, but there is no ill will like what I’ve seen in west Memphis.

I think the reason is that there isn’t a lot of industry here. If Capitol Records built a building downtown, you might see a little fiercer competition. You’d get people coming in from other places, and the almighty dollar starts to become more important. But we’re all just trying to make music.

This interview originally appeared as part of a longer piece in the winter 2003 BluesLetter, a publication of the St. Louis Blues Society. Reprinted with permission of the author.

by Bosco (with illustration help from Jessica Gluckman)

www.mentalsewage.com

Elliot Goes

Henry [Townsend] play a few times. I can sit at B.B.’s and have a conversation with Mark O’Shaughnessy and learn something new in a few minutes.

I’ve been really lucky to hang out with some of these guys. Oliver Sain has a new story for me every week. He probably has half a dozen of them, but doesn’t have time to tell them all to me. So my knowledge is acquired bit by bit.

Most guys I know don’t talk about the past; they talk about the present, the state of the music now and the state of where they’d like to see it go.

That could be because you have a community of guys who just want to make the best music they can now. There is a core of guys who have a lot of stories, but they don’t think it is their place to orate it. Maybe they think that you need to go out there and learn things for yourself.

They say a ferret doesn’t have the right to sing the blues.

That ferrets are all about enjoying life and music,—giggling, dancing, and rocking the house.

But nothing—and I mean nothin’!— beats the sadness of a ferret run outta raisins.

September 2003

29

Curmudgeon

www.mentalsewage.com

sad, overrated, overhyped, and unwanted. It is The Curmudgeon List of the Boring and Mediocre. This month, Pete Yorn, OAR, Somnia, Ben & J-Lo, Not-So-Good Charlotte, Bad Boy Bill, Harry Potter, My Balls Are on Fire.

Siouxsie Sioux will be guest vocalist on the new Basement Jaxx record.

Spirit Flags is the new album from A Northern Chorus. It is brooding, big, and atmospheric in all the ways Bardo Pond and Godspeed You! Black Emperor are. They mesh found and ambient sounds to create fantastic sound tapestries.

Yoko is the title of the new Beulah album of well-crafted songs and wonderful melodies.

Paz Lenchantin has left Zwan.

The new Vines album has been pushed back to early 2004.

I would rather endure a thousand East Coast blackouts than have to listen to the new Seal album. I thought he was dead or something.

As if he didn’t do enough damage with Dogstar, Keanu Reeves has done it again. The bastard has a new band called Becky. I have yet to hear them, but I can only assume they are remarkably adept at being inept. Becky features Reeves and an ex-MTV Real World cast member whose name I forget.

from page 26

Anyone with half a brain knows that the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds is absolutely brilliant.

Now there is a book out analyzing the 1966 gem that made music what it is today—well, the good music today, anyway. Wouldn’t It Be Nice is a nice little read that gives a glimpse into just how nuts Brian Wilson went in making this masterpiece. Author Charles Granata does a nice job of explaining what was going on with Wilson, the band, and the times in which they recorded. He also nicely frames the album’s place in pop culture history.

I know the world is a dark, sad place with pestilence, war, and hardship. Having a new Smashmouth album only underscores this. It also reaffirms my belief that culture is ending.

Why won’t they go away? I mean, if Liberia can send their dictator packing, can’t we usher Smashmouth out? Maybe the Coen Brothers have a woodchipper left over from Fargo to stick them all in. Perfectionists beware!

Damon Albarn recorded some rough demos during the recent Blur American tour. The material may be collected into a solo record at some point.

It is good to see the Creepy Crawl and other clubs picking up some slack in the wake of the Galaxy’s closing. But it would be great to have a semi-large rock venue on Washington Avenue.

After a semi-long break, U.S. Maple returns in October with Purple on Time, their first album in almost four years.

The Postal Service has covered the Flaming Lips’ “Suddenly Everything Has Changed” for their new single, “The District Sleeps Alone Tonight.”

The High Llamas are back with Beets, Maize and Corn, their latest studio record, due this fall.

Look for a short tour to follow.

And finally, to prove that what the media call a “a dying movement” may indeed be limping along, the 2003 Electroclash Festival is scheduled for November 7 to 10 in Chelsea, New York.

Sample sample dub dub.

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30

There’s something to be said about immortalizing a person on celluloid: it makes them seem more real, somehow, more relevant. I certainly had that feeling when watching Guided by Voices’ new video, “My Kind of Soldier.” More homage to our town’s Beatle Bob than anything else, the video uses the aid of cue cards to tell Bob’s story, things like, “He owns 12,000 records” and “Since 1978, over 10,000 shows.”

Watch it for yourself at http://www.matadorrecords.com/guided_by_voices/music.html.

Oz Nightclub, St. Louis’s longest-running late-night dance club, reopens next month after undergoing one of the biggest renovations in area nightlife history. With its grand reopening September 19, Oz v2.0 offers three musically diverse rooms: a redesigned main room offering a progressive electronica/top 40 dance mix; “Patio Blue," an upscale outdoor area featuring contemporary furniture and the city’s best hiphop/party mix DJs; and a Moroccan-themed VIP lounge/room with deep house DJs and live acts.

Devin Baker introduced his new band, Gassoff, in August at the Hi-Pointe Café. Baker is the lead singer and guitarist of this three-piece group, and is backed by members of his Misfits tribute band, The Skulls.

The KDHX Celebrity BBQ may be best remembered for the violence. Cricket O’Neill gave a 20-minute DJ set to promote her Etiquette of Violence show on KDHX. The folks at KDHX had her sit in the dunk tank at last year’s event; her set this year showed that her music career is far from sinking.

Three comedians from the University of Notre Dame—JJimmy Brogan, Owen Smith, and John Garrett—will appear as the Laughing Irish

at the Lincoln Theatre in Belleville September 13.

Garrett, a native of Trenton, Illinois, performs regularly at comedy clubs and colleges throughout the Midwest.

Through October, the 33 Wine and Tasting Bar is hosting “Infrared Dead,” an exhibit featuring infrared black and white photos of St. Louis and surrounding areas by local photographer Jane Linders.

Due to the strong showing of Just Add Water in the Budweiser True Music poll, the band was selected to be one of five opening acts for the Labor Day weekend Las Vegas show with The Donnas and Goo Goo Dolls.

St. Louis Solo artist Tom Wehrle was recently chosen as a top-50 finalist from over 1,200 entrants in the Coca Cola/American Music Awards “New Music Award.” As a finalist, Wehrle moves to the next round where Dick Clark and CMJ founder/CEO Robert Haber will choose 10 semi-finalists to perform live at a playoff event on September 12 at the Knitting Factory in Los Angeles. Three finalists will be chosen that evening to compete in the final playoff event during the CMJ Music Marathon in New York City on October 23.

Art Saint Louis and ENVISION Folk Art of Missouri, a St. Louis–based nonprofit organization dedicated to the study and enjoyment of folk art and self-taught artists, will present “Game Boards,” a non-juried art exhibit and auction on view at Art Saint Louis September 8 through October 11.

The Craft Alliance Gallery presents Folk Pottery of North Carolina, curated by Andrew H. Glasgow. With an opening reception from 5 to 8 p.m. on September 12, the exhibit runs through October 19.

Congratulations to happyendings, whose recent showcase for Hollywood Records went so well, the label decided to send them to L.A. to record a three-song demo. As long as Hollywood likes what they hear, the band will likely sign with the label, finish the record in L.A., and head out on tour.

Somnia is currently working on a new disc.

The new album, with about 12 or so new songs, is to be out spring 2004.

St. Louis expat Guy Cobb, an artist in Memphis, is working on a series of paintings for donation to Mayor Slay’s office. The paintings are based on Cobb’s memories of his grandmother’s gardens in South St. Louis.

Randy LaBrott, vocalist/songwriter of Poppies 3, was voted as one of the top 500 songwriters in Billboard’s 11th annual songwriting contest.

Local rock junkies Panic Attack have released their debut self-titled album.

T T T

GASLIGHT SQUARE

The Sheldon Concert Hall and New Line Theatre are putting together a Gaslight Square Reunion Concert to showcase the local instrumentalists and vocalists who played St. Louis’s historic Gaslight Square entertainment district in the 1950s and 60s. New Line is currently searching for all still active performers who appeared in Gaslight Square to be included in the reunion concert. Performers should contact Scott Miller, 314-773-6526 or NewChaz64@aol.com.

In other Scott Miller news, the fourth musical theatre book by the New Line Theatre artistic director has been released by Heinemann Publishing. Let the Sun Shine In: The Genius of HAIR is in bookstores now and also available from www.amazon.com.

Music Folk is proud to host St. Louis’s own bluegrass phenomenon, Bull Harmon, who will conduct a flatpicking guitar workshop on September 5 from 7 to 9 p.m. Register via phone (314-961-2838) or in person at Music Folk.

J

September 2003

The cast of Party: Terry Meddows, Wayne Easter, 31 Richard Strelinger, Jim Michaels, Colin DeVaughan (not pictured: Ken Haller, Anthony Wininger)

The Militant Propaganda Bingo Machine The NonProphet Theater Compsny Thursdays, Hi-Pointe Café Founded by husband-and-wife team Robert A. Mitchell and Kirsten Wylder-Mitchell, the Nonprophets are providing the St. Louis theater scene with a badly needed and remarkably witty, underbelly. The group of a little more than a dozen local actors storms the upstairs stage at the Hi-Pointe every Thursday night to bring their concept of a live sketch comedy show, dubbed “The Militant Propaganda Bingo Machine,” to small but enthusiastic audiences.

Every week, the NonProphets serve up new sketches; the performance that I took in was a “best of” featuring scenes selected by popular demand from previous shows. Far from being passive observers, the audience plays a pivotal role for the Nonprophets. Rather than a set running order of sketches, the show is powered along by audience participation in a sort of delirious, screaming bingo game that determines what scene comes next.

The scenes themselves, thankfully, offer a wide range of taste for the comedy palate. From the irreverent and bawdy (as in a jingle for a peanut butter called “Twatley’s” that makes household pets do unspeakable things) to the smart pop-culture satirical (witness the Star Wars trilogy enacted in 15 minutes by one actor, sound effects, and plastic tubs full of childhood memories), the Nonprophets are doing a good job of avoiding the perpetual downfall of sketch: doing one thing , doing it well, and then doing it to death.

Perhaps what is more important than how the Nonprophets are doing what they do is that they are doing it at all. “The Militant Propaganda Bingo Machine” is rough theater, to be sure, and as such, it is unpolished. But by choosing as their calling to put sketch comedy in a bar, they are also filling a need for theater that’s accessible, different, and pretty damned funny. And we should all drink to that.

“The Militant Propaganda Bingo Machine” is performed every Thursday night upstairs at the Hi-Pointe. Doors are at 8 p.m., show at 9 p.m.

For more info, go to www.nonprophets.com.

—John Shepherd

Party New Line Theatre July 31–August 23, ArtLoft Theatre The most difficult thing about reviewing New Line Theatre’s Party is choosing your words carefully. In a play that ends with a cast of seven men naked onstage, it’s a challenge to say anything that won’t be viewed as a double entendre.

The other problem, apart from the copious nudity, is that the play’s just not very good. The premise of Party, written by David Dillon, is straightforward enough: seven friends gather for a party in a New York City apartment that two of them share. They play a party game similar to “Truth or Dare,” which leads to revelations, physically and emotionally, that make them look at one another with renewed understanding.

In theory, at least. The thing is, none of the characters’ admissions are all that revelatory.

They tend toward either the predictable (the roommates who share the apartment platonically are, in fact, attracted to each other) or the implausible (the travel agent and the stage dancer are attracted to each other) without fleshing out the characters beyond mere types. So instead, what could have offered insights into the nature of friendship and love among men settles for easy jokes and midlevel camp. It doesn’t give director Scott Miller much to work with, and the action proceeds at a plodding pace.

This leaves the actors even less to go on. Thom Crain portrays Ray, the queen of the group, who also happens to be a Catholic priest, with a shrillness that’s frequently jarring. Given how broadly the part is written, the character would have benefited from a more measured performance. Such an approach also might have helped Crain avoid stumbling over some of his lines. He’s not the only one guilty of that in the production, though when he recites a litany of stage, music, and screen divas’ names, he gets it surprisingly spot on.

Jim Michaels could have taken Brian, the stage dancer, in a similar direction, but instead gives a less obvious performance. Likewise, Richard Strelinger, Ken Haller, and Anthony Wininger deliver believable performances of generally likable characters, though the other two parts, played by Colin DeVaughan and Wayne Easter, are less developed, as are the relationships among the characters as a whole.

In addition, the set, designed by Todd Schaefer, isn’t very convincing as a New Yorker’s apartment, especially one owned by gay men. Lighting designer Christopher Clark, however, does employ a nice trick to make it seem like the lights of the city’s skyline are shining through the windows.

They’re among the few things that shine on the stage, though. Given the shortcomings of the play itself, having everyone in the cast shed their clothes by the end winds up being just a gimmick that, while likely to draw curious theatergoers, does nothing to cover up Party’s flaws.

—Jeffrey Ricker

ST. LOUIS’S ACOUSTIC BLUES TRIO FEATURING VOCALIST KARI LISTON WITH SAUCE ON THE SIDE

SEPTEMBER BIG MUDDY BLUES FESTIVAL

Mon. 1 Big Muddy Blues Festival 4-5:15p Lacledes Landing – Planet Hollywood Stage Wed. 3 B.B.’s Jazz, Blues & Soups 7-9:30p

700 S. Broadway / 314.436.5222 Broadway Oyster Bar

Fri. 5

5-7p

736 S. Broadway / 314.621.8811

Satchmo’s

9p-1a

13375 Olive / 314.878.3886

Duck Club Yacht Club

Sat. 6

8p-Mid

St. Charles / 636.250.4333

Broadway Oyster Bar

Sun. 7

8p-Mid

736 S. Broadway / 314.621.8811

Venice Café

Tues. 9

9p-1a

Lemp & Pestalozzi / 314.772.5994 Fri. 12

Pop’s Blue Moon

9p-1a

On the Hill / 314.776.4200 Sat. 13

Excelsior Club

9p-1a

255 Union / 314.367.7707 Fri. 26

The Shanti

9p-1a

9th & Allen / 314.241.4772 Sat. 27

Excelsior Club

9p-1a

255 Union / 314.367.7707 Sun. 28

Jackson’s

6-9p

6655 Manchester / 314.645.4904

MORE ABOUT THE GANG! For more info on shows, special events, South Broadway Blues, Kari’s journal, or NEW pictures:

www.bottomsupblues.com

effect, running on the bite-size narrative asides (“Andy. Still living on overtime in his Warhole”) and the unrewarding hyperness of the stream-ofconsciousness prose, supplying the reader with the deflating hollowness of not having consumed anything of substance. And the book seems fine with this hollowness, choosing never to arrive at the nourishing redemption we probably wouldn’t believe. The result is a cavity of sorts, set permanently in Hylnur’s heart and, only momentarily, in ours.

—Stephen Schenkenberg

JAMES WOOD: THE BOOK AGAINST GOD (Farrar, Straus & Giroux) Those who prefer their literary God-grapplings with the rattling fury of a Dostoevsky world—The Brothers Karamazov, The Idiot—may find literary critic James Wood’s The Book Against God a bit calm for the territory. Its narrative movement is gentle, almost polite. But though the book isn’t big on bold bursts, it’s got its own steady warmth, humor, and modest earnestness.

At the book’s center is narrator Thomas Bunting, whose life is a series of contradictions.

He’s got “lavish habits” (good wine, great pajamas), but zero cash. He’s intellectually ambitious (he’s four notebooks into his “Book Against God,” personal journals that challenge theology), yet dragging out his PhD thesis for a seventh year.

And, most importantly, he’s a self-proclaimed seeker of truth with a self-admitted habit of lying.

Indeed, his lies are the book’s main plot points, from smaller ones told to credit-card companies to whoppers told to his wife (Yes, I will do my part in conceiving a child) and priest-father (Yes, I am, in fact, seeking God).

While Bunting’s dissolving marriage is important to the story, his relationship with his father is really the book’s emotional thrust, the paternal presence providing the mirror that reveals the son’s grown-man childishness (think Quiz Show). His father’s lively and open relationship with religion—a reviewer of books, he detached

the sticker of one that arrived (“This is an advanced copy in lieu of a proof”) and stuck it to his Bible—seems to vex Thomas, whose logical rationalizing leaves no room for faith. And as the book heads into its latter stretches, the question is whether the son will be able to speak with his father about religion with the honesty he writes of it in his journals. This issue lingers even after the father’s death, when Bunting delivers a misguided eulogy, a true squirmer I’ll allow you to experience on your own.

Wood has filled The Book Against God with well-turned phrases (an older man’s white moustache is described as “a frozen waterfall over his lip”) and memorable side characters, but what’s most interesting is the author’s treatment of the title subject. Bunting’s beef with religion is outlined in a series of statements that sound alike in their firmness as well as their coldness: “Why has He made us so very flawed, and then just disappeared?”; “I don’t believe that any God worthy of worship or comprehension made this world.”; “He doesn’t exist for me.”

But he does, as one character points out, for in writing against Him so continuously, he’s always summoning His presence. In a way, Bunting writes against religion the way Susan Sontag wrote against interpretation, though for diametrically opposed reasons. Religion and God exist for Bunting the same way interpretation existed in Sontag’s essay, not as something to ignore, but as something to turn away from.

Bunting’s cold, logical approach to religion is similar to Sontag’s interpretation-dependent foes’ approach to art. Art, Sontag suggested, must thrive on “the sensory experience,” which wilts when empiricism and methodology take over. The reason I bring this up at all is that, in a strange and subtle way, The Book Against God seems to say the same about faith. Its most resonating comments on the subject are not Bunting’s, but those in support of faith—the father’s deep-down serious jokes, a young theologian’s lightly served questions, and, most memorably, his wife’s humble observations about musical notes and harmony—that they could not have been created by mere humans.

Oddly and quietly, this book titled “against” God ends up providing the reader with an unex-

HALLGRÍMUR HELGASON:PHOTO: ARI MAGG

ICELANDIC SUGAR CRASH

HALLGRÍMUR HELGASON: 101 REYKJAVIK (Scribner) About the only good thing you can say about Hylnur Björn, the 33-year-old narrator of 101 Reykjavik, by the Icelandic writer Hallgrímur Helgason, is that he isn’t vain. Day in and day out, he rolls in his own sty of slovenly grandeur.

His diet consists of brews, smokes, tube, E, pot, coke, and smut. His actions are puerile and damaging. And most of his private thoughts and public statements are snide, vulgar, and sexist, sometimes all at once. But vain he’s not. “I comb my hair up, over my receding hairline,” he tells us. “I realize I’m saddled with an outdated kind of new-wave hairdo. It’s like an old Stray Cats song glued to my skull, but it’s the best I can do.” And up bubbles a reason you might bear spending 300 pages with this guy: he’s aware of his own foibles; he can be funny; and his endless pop-culture references remind us that the world he’s responding to is our own.

The question of this novel is when, if ever, Hylnur will grow up. He’s living with his mother and her female lover (whom he doesn’t bed so much as couch), spending his nights at the pub and his days happily jobless (“I walk down Laugevegur like a walking machine, with that unemployed stride”).

The walking machine picks up his pace really only once, to pursue what he sees as his one shot at redemption: Katarina, his Hungarian Web-pal. Hylnur’s thought a third of the way through the book (“I’ll never fall in love.

Katarina.”) provides the proper foreshadowing, so that late in the book, when he halts his suffering and for once goes after something—bolting from a vacation (!) to surprise his girl—we’re actually rooting for the guy. The result is just.

While the book’s tiresome and indulgently bloated in several spots, its humor and clever turns of phrase do well to keep the reader going.

From the pub’s jukebox, Hylnur hears “Prehistoric rock music spurting through the speakers,” peaking in “a twenty-three-year-old guitar solo.” And in one of several examples of the wit that remains in this English translation, he describes the music of Iceland (home to Björk, remember) as “Sugary cubism.”

Ultimately, this book itself has a sugary

September 2003

HALLGRÍMUR HELGASON:PHOTO: ARI MAGG

Mick Foley Barnes & Noble, August 4 There was a time when a big part of my life was spent going to the Seattle Public Library and attending wrestling shows. When I wasn’t reading books, I was ordering pay-per-views with my friends, buying tickets to the shows, and even meeting a few pro wrestlers.

Now the library and professional wrestling have merged, and many wrestlers have written books. This is the case with Mick Foley, a man who has written his third book, Tietam Brown.

Depending on your reading taste, you may or may not think of Mick Foley as a typical author.

Here is a man whose wrestling characters vary from the masked “Mankind” to a hippie named “Dude Love” to his classic “Cactus Jack.” Foley has taken falls off of 16-foot cages, participated in barbed-wire matches, and sustained the loss of half an ear. I watched him myself from a frontrow seat back in ’96, when he was destroyed and laid in a casket, compliments of my favorite wrestler, the Undertaker.

It’s fair to say that his wrestling is what drove people to his book signing. It was the usual scene of people lining up for the event, sharing stories of shows they have seen, and in some cases sporting the ring attire of their favorite characters. There were fathers and sons, as well as aspiring wrestlers waiting to see the wrestling legend. When he showed up at the room with everyone seated on the floor, he received a huge reaction, as if it was a wrestling show.

The presentation that followed was as interactive as I expected it to be, with the audience playing an important part. It wasn’t long before Foley’s novel took a back seat to the discussion of his wrestling career and family life. He made jokes about his fellow wrestling pals Test, Al Snow, and the Mean Street posse, all to a roaring response. He was light-hearted and fun and even joked with certain fans who had trivia questions. “You have a lot of time on your hands,” he told one of them.

When the evening was over, I was inspired enough to want to read Foley’s book—but I don’t have that kind of cash. So it’s back to the public library, where I’ll see just how well the library and the world of wrestling still mix.

—John Kujawski

REVIEWED ONLINE: Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs

by Chuck Klosterman, as well as Exploring the Matrix: Visions of the Cyber Present, edited

by Karen Haber.

ATTENTION LIT SNOBS: BACK-TO-SCHOOL BOOK QUIZ!

The rules are simple: match the passage with the book. Answers are at the end of the quiz.

And remember: Google is not your real friend.

Authors/Books a. Ralph Ellison: Invisible Man b. Kingsley Amis: Lucky Jim c. William Faulkner: Sanctuary d. A.S. Byatt: Possession e. John Kennedy Toole: A Confederacy of Dunces f. Herman Hesse: The Glass Bead Game g. Benjamin Anastas: An Underachiever’s Diary h. James Joyce: Ulysses i. Bret Easton Ellis: The Rules of Attraction j. David Foster Wallace: Infinite Jest 1. “I spent my sophomore year at school in the same drunken stupor, looking, I think for another Natalie, and when I didn’t find her I settled for a chaste communion with my favorite water bong. My ‘drug period’ ended, during the fall of my second sophomore year, with a bad hallucination on a Ferris wheel, followed by a week of flashbacks (clowns, spinning teacups) that kept me confined to my dorm room. When I finally sobered up, lucid for the first time in months, I thought of my conversation in the snow with Faith Crick, and how she believed that I had every right to exist in the same charmed universe as my twin.”

2. “I started feeling completely self-conscious and thought, god I must look pretentious, sitting in the back, chain-smoking, faded copy of The Fountainhead in my lap. I must scream ‘Camden!’ But I was still grateful that no one sat next to me.”

3. “[Dixon] was trying to stop himself from thinking directly about the official title of his subject, which was ‘Medieval Life and Culture.’ ‘I thought I might start with a discussion of the university, for instance, in its social role.’ He comforted himself for having said this by the thought that at least he knew it didn’t mean anything.”

4. “[Blackadder’s] father sent him to Downing College in Cambridge to study under F.R. Leavis.

Leavis did to Blackadder what he did to serious students: he showed him the terrible, the magnificent importance and urgency of English literature and simultaneously deprived him of any confidence in his own capacity to contribute to or change it.”

5. “Your total ignorance of that which you profess to teach merits the death penalty. I doubt whether you would know that St. Cassian of Imola was stabbed to death by his students with

their styli. His death, a martyr’s honorable one, made him a patron saint of teachers.

“Pray to him, you deluded fool, you ‘anyone for tennis?’ golf-playing, cocktail-quaffing pseudo-pedant, for you do indeed need a heavenly patron. Although your days are numbered, you will not die as a martyr—for you further no holy cause—but as the total ass which you really are.”

6. “Students strolled through the shade, down a hill of tender grass toward the brick-red stretch of tennis courts. Far beyond, players in white showed sharp against the red of the courts surrounded by grass, a gay vista washed by the sun.

In the brief interval I heard a cheer arise. My predicament struck me like a stab. I had a sense of losing control of the car and slammed on the brakes in the middle of the road, then apologized and drove on. Here within this quiet greenness I possessed the only identity I had ever known, and I was losing it. In this brief moment of passage I became aware of the connection between these lawns and buildings and my hopes and dreams.”

7. “Sitting at his side Stephen solved out the problem. He proves by algebra that Shakespeare’s ghost is Hamlet’s grandfather. Sargent peered askance through his slanted glasses.

Hockeysticks rattled in the lumberroom: the hollow knock of a ball and calls from the field.”

8. “Orin Incandenza, who like many children of raging alcoholics and OCD-sufferers, had internal addictive-sexuality issues, had already drawn idle little sideways 8’s on the postcoital flanks of a dozen B.U. coeds.”

9. “The Game was at first nothing more than a witty method for developing memory and ingenuity among students and musicians. And as we have said, it was played both in England and Germany before it was ‘invented’ here in the Musical Academy of Cologne, and was given the name it bears to this day, after so many generations…”

10. “Townspeople taking after-supper drives through the college grounds or an oblivious and bemused faculty-member or a candidate for a master’s degree on his way to the library would see Temple, a snatched coat under her arm and her long legs blonde with running, in speeding silhouette against the lighted windows of the Coop, as the women’s dormitory was known, vanishing into the shadow beside the library wall, and perhaps a final squatting swirl of knickers or whatnot as she sprang into the car waiting there with engine running on that particular night.”

—Stephen Schenkenberg

Answers: 1.g; 2.i; 3.b; 4.d; 5.e; 6.a; 7.h; 8.j; 9.f; 10.c.

pected understanding not of the narrator’s certainty and logic, but of the sensory experiences of the faithful who surround him.

—Stephen Schenkenberg

33

34

WHAT’S GOING O 9/20: 5-8 pm: Sopranos Saturday; 9 pm: The Saps w/Bibowats 9/22: Free Monday Movies TBA 9/23: 7-9 pm (no cover): The Ragtime Serenaders; 9 pm: Rich McCulley w/TBA 9/24: 5-7pm: Gale Foehner’s Ragtime Dixie Band (no cover); 9 pm: TBA 9/25: The Meat Purveyors w/Wormwood Scrubs 9/26: Diesel Island w/The Melroys 9/27: 5-8 pm: Sopranos Saturday; 9 pm: Melody Den w/Tom Wood Band 9/29: Free Monday Movies TBA 9/30: 7-9 pm (no cover): The Ragtime Serenaders; 9 pm: TBA

AMERICAN THEATRE 416 N. 9th St. • St. Louis, MO 314-231-7000 9/13: Margaret Cho

BERZERKER STUDIOS 3033 Locust • St. Louis, MO 314-652-7300 • www.berzerkerrecords.com

BLUEBERRY HILL 6504 Delmar • St. Louis, MO 314-727-0880 • www.blueberryhill.com 9/16: Drive-by Truckers w/TBA 9/17: Chuck Berry

CICERO’S

ART THAT IS VISUALLY ARRESTING OPENING RECEPTION FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 7–10 p.m.

Mad Art Gallery will host a group exhibition of local visual artists Rick Ulman, Tim Garrett, and Corey Weiser. A free opening reception will be held Friday, September 19, from 7–10 p.m.

Rick Ulman debuts several large-scale paintings after a ten-year hiatus from showing. A long-time contributor to the area's cultural scene, Ulman has been the founder and contributor of several folk music groups dedicated to education, research, and performance, including Recollectors and Fydlestyx. His artwork, which is heavily influenced by folk art, is in the collection of notable institutions such as the Art Institute of Chicago, University of Dublin, and the Scottish National Museum of Modern Art, where Ulman will be exhibiting in 2004.

Tim Garrett will be displaying original black and white photobooth photography. Garrett's fascination with the medium began at an early age when he stumbled upon an abandoned photo strip of a couple making out. Intrigued by the image and its possibilities, he carried it in his wallet and soon began sketching photobooth scenes. While attending college in the northeast, he frequented the photobooth at the Boston Children's Museum until he was officially banned. "I guess they got tired of me bringing in suitcases full of props," he explains. Garrett's images both exploit and defy the boundaries imposed by the traditional fourimage photobooth strip. The results can be at once humorous and haunting. A reviewer writes, "These images are simultaneously familiar and off-putting, like a relative who shows up at a reunion but has an extra ear." Garrett is currently at work on a photobooth art book.

The soft sculpture of Corey Weiser has a wicked sense of playfulness, with serpentine-like figures oozing between soft pillows in bold colors. A jeweler, milliner, and sculptor, Weiser has taught classes locally at Craft Alliance and has co-curated for previous Venus Envy exhibits.

6691 Delmar • University City, MO 314-862-0009 • www.ciceros-stl.com 9/1: Madahoochi and friends 9/2: Kind Tuesdays w/members of Vitamen A & the Schwag 9/3: Kooks w/Transient Frank 9/4: Bockman’s Euphio w/The Menagerie 9/5: Jake’s Leg 9/6: 56 Hope Road w/Buddha’s Belly 9/7: Afternoon show: Satellite Affair w/TBA; open mic night 9/8: Madahoochi and friends 9/9: Kind Tuesdays w/members of Vitamen A & the Schwag 9/10: John Mancusso Productions presents 9/11: The Station & Groovatron 9/12: Jake’s Leg 9/13: Spookie Daly Pride w/Speakeasy 9/14: Afternoon show: Essence of Logic w/Darkwater & Blacklist; open mic night 9/15: Madahoochi and friends 9/16: Kind Tuesdays w/members of Vitamen A & the Schwag 9/17: Ekoostik Hookah w/Plum Tucker 9/18: Olospo w/TBA 9/19: Jake’s Leg 9/20: Shanti Groove w/Debaser 9/21: Afternoon show: Stookey w/Minutes Too Far & Fed Up; poetry open mic night 9/22: Madahoochi and friends 9/23: Kind Tuesdays w/members of Vitamen A & the Schwag 9/24: Mountain of Venus w/Slipstream 9/25: Swivel Hips South w/Brooklyn Deadwood 9/26: Jake’s Leg 9/27: B-Side Folk Union w/The Station 9/28: Afternoon show: Intangible w/TBA; open mic night 9/29: Madahoochi and friends 9/30: Kind Tuesdays w/members of Vitamen A & the Schwag

CREEPY CRAWL 412 N. Tucker • St. Louis, MO www.creepycrawl.com 9/2: Blind Society, Hyphen-O, The Virus 9/3: Apology Clause, Codie, Limbeck, Lucky Day, The Working Title 9/6: A Moment Gone, Aorta, Mother Nature, The Carlsonics, Tub Ring 9/12: Breather Resist, Five Story Fall, Small Town Tragedy 9/18: Fairweather, Form Follows Failure, Honorary Title, The Movielife 9/19: 12 Summers Old, Edipis, Halfacre Gunroom, The Requiem 9/20: Bilevel, Maralyn High, Parkridge, Plain White T’s 9/24: Swingin’ Utters

ENIGMA LOUNGE 15480 Clayton Road • Ballwin, MO www.enigmalounge.com

FREDERICK’S MUSIC LOUNGE 4454 Chippewa • St. Louis, MO 314-351-5711 • www.fredericksmusiclounge.com 9/1: Free Monday Movies featuring Mr. Show Season 3 9/2: 7-9 pm (no cover): The Ragtime Serenaders; 9 pm: Ten High w/Johnny Fox

GENERATIONS

BABY, HE’S BORED EVAN DANDO at MISSISSIPPI NIGHTS SEPTEMBER 13, 7 p.m., all ages TICKETS: $12.50 adv/$14 dos CALL: 314-534-1111 In a matter of days, some of us will have the chance to witness a resurrection of sorts. After a seven-year hiatus, Evan Dando has returned to the recording industry and will be blessing us with a live appearance. At this point, no one can be certain how his personal demons and his well-publicized battle with drug addiction affected his sultry charisma, but be assured that his new album, Baby I’m Bored (Bar None), carries the same sweet melodies and sour poetry that gave The Lemonheads their flavor.

Dando has regained his stride and is once again encompassing the world with bitter songs of reflection. Of course, many fans will expect Dando to perform the hits that placed him as king on top the bubble-grunge mountain during the ’90s. They may also expect an extra treat in this package. Dando’s longtime friend and cohort, Juliana Hatfield, is reported as being the bass player for the extent of the American leg of the tour. But don’t expect too much from Evan and company; just attend the show September 13 at Mississippi Nights and appreciate his recovery. —J. Church 9/3: 5-7 pm: Gale Foehner’s Ragtime Dixie Band (no cover); 9 pm: TBA 9/4: 7 pm: TBA (no cover); 8 pm: Free Noiseday Hootenanny Open Mic & Jam Session w/host Josh Weise 9/5: Madhappy w/Amsterband 9/6: 5-8 pm: Sopranos Saturday; 9 pm: Burn Disco Burn w/Pendergast 9/8: Free Monday Movies featuring Natural Born Killers 9/9: 7-9 pm (no cover): The Ragtime Serenaders; 9 pm: TBA 9/10: 5-7 pm: Gale Foehner’s Ragtime Dixie Band (no cover); 9 pm: The Sailors w/Prune 9/11: 7 pm: TBA (no cover); 8 pm: Free Noiseday Hootenanny Open Mic & Jam Session w/host Jonathan Baer 9/12: Old No. 8 w/The Highway Matrons 9/13: 5-8 pm: Sopranos Saturday; 9 pm: TBA 9/15: Free Monday Movies w/TBA 9/16: 7-9 pm (no cover): The Ragtime Serenaders; 9 pm: Sofa Kit XL w/Buck Carter 9/17: 5-7 pm: Gale Foehner’s Ragtime Dixie Band (no cover); 9 pm: Noelle Hampton w/Ghetto Prenup 9/18: 7 pm: Adam Brodsky (no cover); 8 pm: Free Noiseday Hootenanny Open Mic & Jam Session w/host Adam Brodsky 9/19: Neil Cleary w/Amy Alison

Lindbergh & Watson Rds. • Sunset Hills, MO 636-256-8522 • www.eliteconcerts.com 9/16: Corey Stevens CD release 9/23: Eric Sardinas 9/28: It’s a Beautiful Day

HARD ROCK CAFÉ 450 St. Louis Union Station • St. Louis, MO 314-621-7625 • www.hardrockcafe.com 9/19: The Cartwrights

HI-POINTE 1001 McCausland Ave. • St. Louis, MO 314-781-4716 • www.hi-pointe.com 9/9: The Epoxies 9/13: Amazing Transparent Man, Appleseed Cast, Mock Orange

JAZZ AT THE BISTRO 3536 Washington Ave. • St. Louis, MO 314-531-1012 • www.jazzatthebistro.com 9/19-20: Erin Bode Group 9/24-27: Yellowjackets

LEMP NEIGHBORHOOD ARTS CENTER 3301 Lemp Ave. • St. Louis, MO 314-771-1096 • www.lemp-arts.org 9/6: Orange Buckets 9/7: Gods Among Men 9/11: Rose for Bodhan, Child Pornography, Minmae 9/12: Lord of the Yum Yum, Skarekrau Radio, Hellrazors 9/18: Stivs, Trip Daddys, Corbeta Corbata, 7 Shot Screamers 9/19: Lady of the Lake, So Many Dynamos 9/23: Black Black Ocean, Knife 9/26: Will Sondeberg 9/27: Rottonpiece 9/28: Lazy Magnet

MAGEE’S 4500 Clayton Ave. • St. Louis, MO 314-535-8061 9/3: The Good Griefs w/guest 9/4: Jake’s Leg 9/10: The Dogtown Allstars 9/11: Jake’s Leg 9/17: Fred’s Variety Group 9/18: Jake’s Leg 9/24: The UnMutuals w/guest 9/25: Jake’s Leg

MISSISSIPPI NIGHTS 914 N. First St. • St. Louis, MO 314-421-3853 • www.mississippinights.com 9/5: Nadine CD release party w/Chris Mills & The City That Works 9/6: New Empire w/Lexington, Losers Luck, Nothing Still, & Tenpointflaw 9/12: Rooney w/The Sounds & Paloalto 9/13: Evan Dando 9/16: Dropkick Murphys w/The Unseen 9/17: Del McCoury & Leftover Salmon 9/20: Just Add Water 9/21: From Autumn to Ashes w/Cave In, Everytime I Die, & Funeral for a Friend 9/24: Donna the Buffalo

9/29: Bla 9/30: Vic

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3509 Lemp Ave. • St. Louis, MO 314-773-3363 • www.offbroadwaystl.com 9/2: Midcoast Mania 9/4: Manek w/Two Cow Garage 9/5: Otis Band w/Johnnie Johnson & Barbara Carr 9/10: Wendy Bugatti & Molly Thomas 9/11: Showcase of the Bands 9/12: Supercrush w/Signal Hill Transmission 9/13: 7:30 pm: Annie Gallup w/Louise Taylor; 10 pm: The Kevin Montgomery Band featuring Al Perkins 9/16: Emily Zuzik, Denise Barbarita, Athena Reich, & Celia’s Big Rock Band 9/17: 7:30 pm: Anne Heaton w/Teddy Goldstein; 10 pm: Open Road Bluegrass 9/18: 7:30 pm: Garnet Rogers w/Heidi Howes; 10 pm: Tim Easton w/Heidi Howes 9/19: Ten High Band, The Elizabeth McQueen Band, & The Jeff Lazaroff Band 9/23: Midcoast Mania Finals 9/24: 7:00 pm: Mark Bilyeu w/Cary Hudson; 10 pm: Ember Swift 9/25: 7:30 pm: Fiamma Fumana; 10 pm: Cave Catt Sammy 9/26: 7:30 pm: Martha’s Trouble; 10 pm: Benefit for Breast Cancer w/Switch III & Side of Fives 9/27: Moviola w/The Court & Spark & Magnolia Summer

THE PAGEANT 6161 Delmar Blvd. • St. Louis, MO 314-726-6161 • www.thepageant.com 9/3: The Robert Cray Band & John Hiatt & the Goners 9/5: Brian McKnight w/Rhian Benson 9/10: An evening with Acoustic Alchemy 9/12: A special evening with Willie Nelson & Family 9/13: Tribute to Stevie Ray Vaughn w/The Steve Pecaro Band, The Tony Campanella Band, Jimmy Lee Kennett 9/15: Football University 9/16: Story of the Year w/Stutterfly & Sophomore 9/17: Chuck Mangione 9/25: Yo La Tengo w/The Aislers Set 9/27: Jay Farrar w/Canyon

POP’S 1403 Mississippi Ave. • Sauget, IL 618-274-6720 • www.popsrocks.com 9/4: Andrew W.K. 9/5: Draw the Line: A Tribute to Aerosmith & Strutter: A Tribute to KISS 9/6: Samael 9/7: Sevendust 9/12: The Pink Wall: A Pink Floyd Tribute 9/13: Clutch 9/19: Lithium: A Tribute to Nirvana 9/26: Battery: A Tribute to Metallica 9/27: Twiztid 9/29: Bowling for Soup

SALLY T’S

me I Die,

9/5: The Temptations review featuring Dennis Edwards

SCHLAFLY BOTTLEWORKS

OFF BROADWAY

2001 Locust St. • St. Louis, MO 314-588-0055 • http://rocketbar.net 9/10: Essex Green

ing Still,

Want to SPONSOR next month’s calendar?

Call 314-630-6404 for details.

9/29: Black Rebel Motorcycle Club w/The Warlocks 9/30: Victor Wooten

ROCKET BAR

om City That

OUR ROUNDUP OF WHAT’S AHEAD FOR THE MONTH OF SEPTEMBER

6 Main St. • St. Peters, MO 636-397-5383 • www.sallyts.com 9/2: Girls acoustic open mic 9/3: MCM tape night w/Public Indecency & Spatik 9/4: Level w/Alive & TBA 9/5: Instant Iguana w/The Pamela Andersons 9/6: Kcorr w/Sigma & Book of Lies 9/9: Deluded w/TBA 9/10: Andy Dyer w/So-Called Something & TBA 9/11: So Many Dynamos w/Horse the Band from California & Knife 9/12: Pitchfork w/Entwistle 9/13: Operator 303 w/Alive & Spector 9/16: Israfel w/Proof of Purchase & Blinded Black 9/17: Trypnotic w/Tears for Tomorrow & TBA 9/18: Pepperland

MUZAK RADIOHEAD CHRISTOPHER O’RILEY at THE SHELDON CONCERT HALL SEPTEMBER 25 TICKETS: $20 & $15 CALL: 314-533-9900 Ever been at a party, one that's slouching toward its last half hour, and into the living room walks a guest from the blue whom you watch silently assume the until-then-unplayed piano and forego any Chopsticks- or Axel F-type ditty and instead lean down into and then pull off a hugely impressive and inspired version of "Fake Plastic Trees"? Listening to classical pianist Christopher O'Riley's new record of Radiohead songs, True Love Waits (Sony Music), has provided me with just such a mental picture. Fifteen of them, actually. Lucky for us, O'Riley will assume the piano at the Sheldon Concert Hall September 25 to perform this service in person. You'll hear his locomotive "Airbag," his fluttering "Black Star," and his take on the album's title track, which while losing a Yorke-sung lyric—"and true love waits/in haunted attics"—gains an image: the piano's notes like light hitting the attic's single window. —Stephen Schenkenberg 9/19: MCM Tape Night w/Panic Attack & Celia’s Cirque du Fantastiqu & Inimical Drive 9/20: Supergod showcase 9/23: Until Tomorrow w/TBA 9/24: Another Kind of Hero w/TBA 9/25: Bridge Road Caravan w/Madahoochi 9/26: Funky Hat Band w/Hotel Faux Pas & Epic 3 9/27: Dignan & Papa Dora & the Talent 9/30: TBA

SAVVIS CENTER 1401 Clark Ave. • St. Louis, MO www.savviscenter.net

THE PARTY ABOUNDS ANDREW W.K. w/High on Fire at POP’S SEPTEMBER 4, 7 p.m., all ages TICKETS: $12/$14; CALL: 618-274-6720 Andrew W.K.’s new album, The Wolf, hits stores on September 9. The off-the-wall rocker’s show is sure to be exciting and hectic, just like his music. The flamboyant W.K. recently finished a summer-long stint on the Warped Tour. Judging from his show at UMB this past June, Pop’s will be one big party when Andrew W.K. rolls into town. —Jeremy Housewright

7260 Southwest • St. Louis, MO 314-241-BEER • www.schlafly.com 9/4: John & Charlie 9/5: Lucky Dan & Naked Mike 9/6: Bob Case 9/11: John & Charlie 9/12: Rockhouse Trio 9/13: Stuart Johnson Trio 9/19: Lucky Dan & Naked Mike 9/20: Bob Case 9/25: John & Charlie 9/26: Monica Casey 9/27: Stuart Johnson Trio

SCHLAFLY TAP ROOM 2100 Locust St. • St. Louis, MO 314-241-BEER • www.schlafly.com 9/5: TBD 9/6: The Courthouse Steps 9/7: John Farrar 9/12: Stuart Johnson Trio 9/13: Baker-McClaren Band 9/14: The Fureys 9/19: TBD 9/20: OTIS 9/21: Dizzy Atmosphere 9/26: Serapis 9/27: The Orbits 9/28: TBD

THE SHELDON CONCERT HALL 3648 Washington Blvd. • St. Louis, MO 314-533-9900 • www.sheldonconcerthall.org 9/25: Christopher O’Riley 9/26: Larry Coryell: Pickers from Another Planet 9/27: Afternoon: 4th Annual Great Midwest Guitar Show; evening: Leo Kottke

STUDIO CAFE 1309 Washington Ave. • St. Louis, MO 314-621-8667 9/5: Maxtone Four w/Missle Silo Suite 9/6: Crayne 9/12: Matt Ahearn w/Mike Dahl & friends 9/13: Rowdie Cum Lowdies 9/19: The Botanists w/Shed Shot 9/20: The Pala Solution 9/26: Moss 9/27: TBA

THREE-1-THREE 313 E. Main St. • Belleville, IL 618-239-6885 • www.three-1-three.com 9/10: Ral Partha Vogelbacher

UMB BANK PAVILION 14145 Riverport Dr. • Maryland Heights, MO 314-298-9944 • www.riverport.com 9/6: Alabama 9/27: Aerosmith/KISS

THE WAY OUT CLUB 2525 S. Jefferson Ave. • St. Louis, MO 314-664-7638 • www.wayoutclub.com 9/4: Bug Blood Letters 9/5: The Woggles, Tomorrow’s Caveman, Thee Lordly Serpents 9/6: Hearts of Darkness 9/10: Addicts Humble 9/11: Natural Laps 9/12: Billy Coma, Book of Lies 9/13: Dead Celebrities, Manda & the Marbles 9/18: The Pamela Andersons 9/19: 7 Shot Screamers 9/22: Canned Utility, The Slats 9/24: Pala Solution 9/26: Leadville, Spoilsport 9/28: The Reverend Brimstone, Lunar Menagerie

KEG PARTY ON A STICK SPOOKIE DALY PRIDE at CICERO’S SEPTEMBER 13, 9 p.m., 18+ TICKETS: $8/$10 under 21 CALL: 314-862-0009 You probably haven't heard of Spookie Daly Pride yet, but it's not your fault. Let's put the blame on the Man: it can only be a mistake made behind closed doors in an executive tower someplace that this group hasn't skyrocketed straight to stardom.

A five-piece ensemble of surname-less freaks from Boston (Spookie on vocals and keys, Pete on guitars, Chris on bass, Tommy on drums, and "Stash" on horns and various other things), Spookie Daly Pride is still touring heavily on the momentum of Marshmallow Pie, nearly two years after its release.

And with the loopy brilliance of songs like "Karma Thunderbolt," "Pleasure Appointment," and "Coffee and Pot," it's not hard to see why. Marshmallow Pie remains their only studio album, but while many fans are probably getting impatient for round two, I'm not sure round one has had enough time to prosper. Even though I can't Google up a single remotely negative review of them, they're still miles away from popularity. How? And can't somebody throw out the title track to the big radio stations one more time to see what happens? A joyous orgy of chocolate hipsters, slackjawed yokels, and whiskey-stealin' monkeys, "Marshmallow Pie" just cries out for another chance to rocket up the charts, drug references be damned. Perhaps a single with a 20-second kazoo break just needs more time to mature.

Spookie Daly Pride manages to take the well-traveled road and redecorate it into their own personal pathway. Their sound is varied yet universal enough for them to have opened for Busta Rhymes, Soul Coughing, Kid Rock, and the Foo Fighters. And though I tend to avoid reeling off the press-release "influences list," this one's too good to pass up: German cabaret, Digital Underground, Dr. John, Count Basie, Van Morrison, and Dixieland. The resulting funk-gumbo is something like a Saturday morning cartoon on shrooms.

The musicianship in SDP is solid enough, but there's no getting around the fact that it's all about frontman Spookie. He handles the keyboard and vocal duties vaudeville-style with a charisma that simply oozes. The music visibly flows through Spook's body onstage; it's not really necessary to be watching anyone else to get a feel for what's going on.

Everything about Spookie Daly Pride is disarmingly fun and easygoing to the point where it's hard to imagine the kind of person that wouldn't enjoy them. The ride comes through town on September 13. Hop on. —Taylor Upchurch

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assistant mixer/producer (Pete Yorn, Jimmy Eat World, A Perfect Circle) than he is for his own music. The connections that Andrews has made in the industry probably helped with the quick formation of Year of the Rabbit through friends and word of mouth (two of the members moved from the Midwest to L.A. to join the band), as well as in the swift signing of a recording contract with Elektra soon after. The group is currently filling small clubs across the country on their first national tour, and their self-titled disc is selling better than Andrews or any of his bandmates probably ever imagined.

The CD starts off with the catchy, edgy, dark power-pop sounds of the first single “Rabbit Hole,” and continues along that path throughout the remaining ten tracks. Most of the songs contain lots of hook-filled melodies that bend and twist their way around fuzzy guitars and heavily syncopated drumlines. “Absent Stars” has a bit of an ’80s feel to it, and “Hold Me Up” is a light and airy ballad, complemented with some beautiful string arrangements. “Strange Eyes” is a very cool standout track that just happens to be the only song co-written by all four band members. “Say Goodbye,” which, as the title implies, is the disc’s last song, is also the longest, just shy of five minutes. This is by far the band’s best song; more songs of this level would have made this already strong and impressive debut effort even stronger.

Year of the Rabbit’s lyrics seem to be stream-of-consciousness thoughts taken directly from Andrews’ diary, often centered on the following topics: sleeping/waking, floating/falling, and fear/panic. Lead guitarist Jeff Garber agrees and in the band’s bio states, “Ken’s a great songwriter. I was a fan of his even before I joined the group.” And judging by Year of the Rabbit’s growing popularity recently, fans are something Andrews and his bandmates are definitely not lacking.

—Michele Ulsohn

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Essentially, once Laura’s foot is wedged in the door, she forces her way into a relationship, until suddenly they’re vacationing together in Brittany and she’s going on about marriage. Jacques’ ex-wife, Constance (a piercingly miserable Catherine Breillat), tries to come back at one point, but he rebuffs her by using Laura as a shield and we never worry about her again.

Boring, maybe, but make no mistake: this is a low-wattage delight through and through. The stakes are low—when Laura finds a boy her age near the end of the movie, it’s neither surprising nor crushing. Played with appropriate wide-eyed eagerness by Emilie Duquenne, Laura has no past baggage to complicate the story—no family to speak of, and a vague but not traumatic breakup that forces her out of her apartment and into Jacques’. Aside from that convenience, this is the most realistic depiction of an unlikely romance you will ever see. It’s the rare love story that tugs more at the head than at the heart.

Although he can’t keep things from dragging at various points, Berri flashes the strokes of a master director again and again. He manages to play the awkwardness between the erudite old man and the naive twentysomething into tension that keeps the audience tuned in. During one point of uncertainty in the future of the relationship (and there are many), he has Bacri wade through a crowd that suddenly consists solely of securely attached couples and their young children, as if to hint at the absurdity of such a future for Jacques and Laura. The excursion to the countryside, while significant, contains encounters with the solitary, chicken-obsessed Ralph (Jacques Frantz) which are only tangentially relevant but too funny to ignore. And the scene in which a still-reluctant Jacques tries in vain to drown out Laura’s relentless Europop by cranking up his classical CD is more than just foreshadowing, it’s the peak of the movie.

But Berri’s finest accomplishment, by far, is the performance he coaxes out of Bacri as Jacques. Bacri successfully navigates through the relationships of employer, paternal figure, and lover with Laura, many times overlapping all three in the same scene. Seeing his annoyance with her melt into affection is more profound than any Hollywood love story by a hundredfold. The strength of The Housekeeper is the truth of its details, and most of those details are in the wrinkly expressions in Bacri’s face.

I’ve seen two other reviews of this movie: One reviewer raved about its subtlety and detail, saying Berri “gets everything right;” the other reviewer trashed it, lamenting the lack of even one substantive intellectual conversation between Jacques and Laura, which “leaves the viewers gnashing their teeth.” Do I even need to point out that the first critic was a middleaged man and the second was a middle-aged woman?

—Taylor Upchurch