The Week of Live Music

I love Joe's Pub. Anytime I can get there makes me happy. It's a small (quite tiny) room with good sound and not a bad view in the room. Plus I love the "train ambiance".

I finally got back to Joe's Pub to watch Neil Nathan. I was thinking acoustic night of mellow musing...wow was I wrong. I mean there were mellow musings but he brought with him a full stage. Sax player, Lap guitarist, drummer, percussionist, guitar player and back up singer. They rocked that joint. He is probably best know for this cover of ELO in the Californication series. I have to wait for the DVD but I heard the scene was great.

Also met a guy working on this Lemmy Documentary

warning quite a bit of the naughty words.


So then tonight
Bacon Brothers Peak Performance

Then Wednesday night to Brooklyn to catch some Jazz by Mamady Kouyat

Not quite done...will be back.
Bro



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Now playing: Morphine - Cure for Pain
via FoxyTunes

She and Him at T5

So at the last moment I got a few passes to see M Ward and Zooey Deschanel's "side project" called She and Him.

First off as an actress she has a wonderful voice. Mostly when an actor says "I have just recorded a new album" most of us cringe. If only because history has taught us so. The reverse is mostly true too when a singer wants to become a movie star. That might be a post for another day.

I have listened to She and Him's Volume One quite a few times and it does live in top 25 cds of 2008 but live they were Excellent. You could feel that they liked playing music with each other. One of my modern favorites is M Ward and I loved the fact that he mostly just sat back and enjoyed Zooey. It was the "She" part that got the limelight.

Pretty good video of "Why Do You Let Me Stay Here"


The night had that really cool vibe. Imagine if your best friend had a barn out in the country and this was the local band that he got to play his "barn party". They would have blown you away. It had that kinda feel to it.

Of course moonshine and/or a porch and few close friends would be an almost perfect setting for this night of She and Him music.

A small portion of Black Hole


So thank you Merge for the tickets.

On top of the main act there were two opening acts. I had not heard of the Rosebuds but after last night - I am a fan. This track wasn't from last night but it will give you an idea.

I Better Run


Freakwater was just fine. Sorry but they were. Nothing special. Maybe it was a bad night.

Another fine musical night at Terminal 5.
Bro

TMBGs at The Beacon

I remember the late 80's music scene vividly, for a variety of reasons. I was in high school, I had begun to venture outside of the musical mainstream, and perhaps most importantly, I had finally become comfortable with the fact that I was an incredible dork. It had taken a while to find such comfort, but I was now ready to celebrate my quirkiness with volume and style. At about that time, just the right time it seemed, I discovered They Might Be Giants.
My friend Lonny had introduced me to the band, after stumbling across them on the now defunct WDRE’s Shreik of the Week. It was December of 1988, and when Lonny played me “Ana Ng,” I was intrigued. I moved on to “Don’t Let Start,” and then “Purple Toupee.” A few years later they released “Flood,” they had their first hit in “Istanbul was Constantinople,” Lonny and I saw them live at UMASS Dartmouth, and after “Apollo 18,” I sort of forgot about them for a while. Not so for Lonny.
Flash forward to 2008, when I became aware of a concert at one of my favorite venues, The Beacon. My son, going through my old CD’s, had started to love this band from my high school days. And Lonny had remained a devout fan, finding shows at The Stone Pony, or whatever other local club might present TMBG with an opportunity to play for their loyal following. This was an incredible opportunity, a blending of nostalgia, sentimentality, and the bridging of generations. I bought the three tickets and marked the calendar.
The first trick to the show was the notice that this concert was for patrons over 14 years old. I speculated that this was targeted at the consumers of the TMBG children’s albums, and decided we would chance it. I dressed up my nine year old son to look as adolescent as possible, stopping short of any piercings or dangerous looking tattoos. But I was incredibly discouraged when, at our pre-concert meal, the waitress offered my son some crayons and a coloring book. I quickly turned his baseball hat around, taught him a few choice words and the value of attitude, and at the ticket line, we pushed our way through despite a brief protest. Fortunately, this show was worth the effort.
The band had grown since I last saw them. They had added guitarists Dan Miller and Danny Weinkauf, with the drums manned by Marty Beller. John Flansburg displayed his strong guitar and tremendous energy from the very beginning. Balanced against John Linnell’s voice and understatedness, they displayed the recognizable formula from two decades ago. They wasted no time, ripping into the first of two acts by emphasizing newer material. The Else was featured early on, with a particularly strong performance of “The Mesopotamians.” But they didn’t neglect those songs from my high school days, finding room for powerful renditions of “Purple Toupee” and “Ana Ng.” Confetti cannons and a packed house contributed to what seemed like madness, but the band was in control. They closed the first act with their most recognizable song, “Istanbul was Constantinople,” and Miller’s guitar work was amazing, yielding at the end of the song to a preview of the upcoming second act....a horns section.
After a short intermission, the band was now joined by, a horn players Kurt Ram, Stan Harrison, and Dan “The Machine” Levine. With the now eight conservatively dressed musicians on stage, Flood and Apollo 18 favorites were featured with new wrinkles, and added depth. “Particle Man” and “Whispers” sounded better than ever. And in the midst of it all, Flansburgh’s guitar and Linnell’s voice remained at the core. It is hard to decide which serves as the band’s more defining characteristic, although I lean towards Linnell’s frenetic, whimsical, and nasally singing. I looked to my right a few times to catch my son and Lonny singing in earnest along with Linnell. John’s approach, largely because of his humility and self deprecating humor, seems to invite this sort of participation. While my son and Lonny don’t have the same pitch perfect approach to the material, they recognize an invitation to just let go and have fun.
Last week, I downloaded the recent Washington D.C. concert for my son, and he played “New York City” repeatedly. Tonight, Flansburg and Linnell choose this song for its final encore. The band was gone, leaving the two Johns center stage, singing their last selection. I started to think about the band, and I realized how important this band was to me in emphasizing the value of individuality, the acceptability of somewhat idiosyncratic approaches. I saw a man my age with a mohawk-ish haircut, and his friend playing an accordion, and I recognized the value of the things in life that are genuine and lasting. And the company I kept that night as the last notes echoed in the theater......well, it couldn’t have been more perfect.

Marc Cohn in concert

It is hard to believe it had been sixteen years since I first saw Marc Cohn perform. To say the least, there have been changes. My beautiful girlfriend who sat next to me back then, and was again next to me, is now my beautiful wife. There have been three new albums, with tonight’s show featuring his recent “Join the Parade.” And when Marc stepped on stage, I could see that he too had changed. He had added a Grammy, lost a little hair, and this was no longer a one man show. The audience had been warmed by the surprisingly entertaining Amy Correia, and was clearly eager to hear that trademark voice, filled with a soulfulness that serves as Marc’s calling card. Marc sat at the piano and began, starting the night with a charged “Live Out the String.”
Sixteen years ago, I felt as though I had personally discovered Marc Cohn (after he had recorded and released a full album, and had a single playing on the radio, of course). The Living Room in Providence, RI was a small, intimate venue. Marc simply stood in front of the room, no stage, no band……just a keyboard and himself. I had heard “Walking in Memphis” on the radio, bought the album, and grabbed the show tickets as soon as they were released for sale. I joined about 100 other people for a show that remains my favorite small show experience. Marc’s music reveals his intelligence and virtuosity, but his performances permit him to display his wit, warmth, and engaging personality. And as I sat in this new venue, the Highline Ballroom in NYC, I recognized that with all the differences, there were many similarities as well.
Marc’s sentimentality continues to compel audiences to listen intently as he performs haunting and personal songs that tell instantly recognizable stories. “Silver Thunderbird” captures the mysteries of fatherhood, from a small boy’s perspective. “Dance Back from the Grave” is a spirited story of recovery, with a healthy attitude. “Listening to Levon,” his most recent song on the airwaves, is a tremendous song about those small, pivotal moments in a young person’s life. His songs are like photographs, and Marc seems to know just where to point the lens.
While the songwriting for his latest effort is excellent, on a par with his first album, and superior to both “The Rainy Season” and “Burning the Daze,” Marc is also a great performer. In this show, he played piano, guitar, and the drums (not simultaneously) and his voice remains strong. He can sound like Clapton on a song like “If I Were an Angel,” Cocker on “29 Ways,” and Randy Newman on “My Sanctuary.” When the audience can’t help but sing out the familiar lyrics to a favorite song, Marc is kind enough to step aside and accompany us on the piano. He tells us the stories behind the stories, and suddenly Muriel from “Walking in Memphis” becomes an inspiration, as she obviously once was to Marc.
At the end of the night, I was glad to have traveled for an hour into NYC, on a Wednesday night, to see what turned out to be an excellent performance. But this show, for me, was partly about differences and similarities, change and constant. It was good to see Marc Cohn again, and his new album is a reminder of the gifts that initially brought him to our attention. He remains gracious, and the audience left happy. But I guess, like Marc Cohn, I am sentimental, and can’t help missing the closeness and simplicity of that first show sixteen years ago. Its too bad he had to be so successful.

By NEXT listener Mike

Guster Concert

As Ben Kweller takes the stage, I take a few minutes to look around at the fans now standing at Festival Pier in Philadelphia. The venue is basically a parking lot next to the Delaware River, and the sound seems less than ideal. The crowd responds to Kweller, an artist now touring as a solo act, but who has toured in the past with Ben Folds and Ben Lee. He is known to this group, as he has recorded a single with the night’s headline act, Guster.
I wish I can pay more attention to Kweller, who is shifting between his guitar and his piano, and sings in a solid yet subtle voice. But there are dark clouds on the horizon. Literally. And as the breeze kicks up, and the lightning appears in the distance, it is becoming increasingly clear that the Philadelphia meteorologists really do know what they are talking about. Kweller’s set ends, and although the performance area is covered, the stage crew comes out to cover the equipment in tarps. And then there is an announcement to seek shelter, but not without a promise......”We’re going to wait this one out.”
The worst of the lightning comes and goes, but a steady rain has begun to fall. Apparently, though, only lightning strikes will stop this show. Because, as promised, the tarps have been removed and Guster comes out onto the stage.
Guster begins with the song they have opened sets with in the past, the awesome “What You Wish For.” The song displays all of the bands best elements. The contrasting vocals of Ryan Miller and Adam Gardner, the bare-handed, bongo percussion of Brian Rosenworcel, the awesome bridge, and the big payoff that follows. But it is hard at first to fully appreciate the band, having recently seen them at the Beacon in New York City, because the sound system here is inferior. And the rain delay seems to have affected the band’s coordination.
Everybody watching the show is soaked, and just when the crowd should start getting cold, things are heating up. We are now oblivious to the elements as the band, known for its great live performances, is somehow beginning to deliver a classic show. The band engages its audience, displays a self effacing humor, and rips through classics and new tracks from their most recent LP, Ganging Up On the Sun. “Satellite” and “The Beginning of the End” blend with “Amsterdam” and “Fa-Fa.” The crowd can’t help but move to these songs, each finding a way to grab the listener and manipulate their emotions, building an irresistible energy. And Ryan plays to he crowd, changing the lyrics of Diane in an acknowledgment of the “Philadelphia rain” drenching the throng in front of him.
The peak to any Guster live performance is their “Airport Song,” and this is especially true tonight. The opening chord sends a charge through the already excited audience, and they scream with anticipation, quickly singing the opening lines as loudly as Adam. Brian, known to his fans as the Thundergod, pounds his drums, this night with flashes of lightning and sheets of rain helping him to set the mood. There is a simian quality to his frenzied attack, and the guitars feed off of his vigorous play. Brian’s voice flows through a pitch shifter, but it is the audience’s fever pitch that is most remarkable. “Who’s your daddy,” sings Adam, “I’m your daddy now.”
Despite the weather and the slow start, and despite the venue, Guster has once again demonstrated why they continue to be described as one of this generations great live bands. They send the fans out with two encores, including the sentimental favorite “Either Way.” And as they release the crowd, and people start towards the exit, more than a few have the same look on their face. A look that seems to say “When did it start raining like this?”

by Mike

John Mayer and Ben Folds in Concert

From NEXT listener Michael. thanks Mike.


Walking up the stairs to the open lawn at the Tweeter Center in Camden, everything just feels good. The weather, the crowd, and on stage is James Morrison, a master craftsman of feel good music. My family was together for this one, and it is the first concert that my children are able to attend. James Morrison is a very approachable first act, and while admittedly not familiar with most of his recordings, he seems like a warm man who truly enjoys performing. He sings well, plays guitar well, and his songs set the mood. He performs for a crowd that is slowly filling the venue to capacity, and definitely draws his biggest response when he plays the single now getting air play in New York, “Under the Influence.” But his music, after some time, is less interesting than the other performers scheduled for the night. Just when things start sounding repetitive, however, Morrison shows promise with a charged performance of his most energetic song, “Call the Police.” The song is a great finale, and a nice lead in to the man about to take the stage.
When Ben Folds walks out, he strides to his piano like a puma with its prey in sight. He is tensed, leans into the keys, and begins his set with the energy that would fill his entire performance. “Gone” gets much of the crowd on its feet, and he quickly flows from one song to the next. All of them are familiar to the crowd, who join him in singing each of his selections. His words can cut, as sarcasm and condemnations are used in a variety of pointed lyrics. But his point of view is clearly appreciated by this group, many of them choosing to sing louder as the songs take their more aggressive turns.
Ben Folds is an exceptional songwriter, and is certainly not one dimensional, so it is no surprise when he chooses to be sentimental. A switch to this side of his music comes with the song “Landed.” Later, there is the subtlety and sadness found in the song “Jesusland.”
Throughout his set, Ben Folds demonstrates that in addition to song writing, he is a very talented performer. He, and the other members of his trio, are technically sound at all points. Even as his keyboard playing becomes frenetic, and his words flow more rapidly, he is on key and delivers the songs flawlessly. To his credit, he focuses on the playing, choosing to avoid the cliched banter too many musicians insert into their sets when on tour. The only disappointment is that he didn’t play personal favorites such as “Still Fighting It” which is obviously a concern I may not have shared with too many of the fans now screaming as his performance concludes.
While some remained seated for the first two acts, it is clear the night is approaching a peak as John Mayer takes the stage. The crowd is loud, and clearly has been waiting for this, and now all rise as this amazing young performer begins his set. The first two song choices are safe, the radio hits all would know. In fact, these two songs probably sold a significant percentage of the tickets to the night’s show. He works through “Bigger Than My Body” and “No Such Thing” and the audience sings in unison. I look at my son, standing on his chair, delighted to be screaming at the top of his lungs, too. My wife is smiling, my daughter’s eyes are wide open. The party has started, but the greatest aspect of the night is first hinted at in Mayer’s third song “Belief.”
John Mayer chooses to introduce this song with a guitar solo that masks the song that he is about to play. But it also reveals, as his virtuosity is finally exposed. This John Mayer can often hide behind the breathy delivery of his lyrics, and the occasional falsetto. Since the beginning of his career John Mayer’s music has been the sort to make women swoon, but there are reasons he has recorded with B.B. King and John Scofield. Just as there are reasons he began this day sharing a stage in New York City with Eric Clapton. John Mayer can flat out play the guitar.
Like Ben Folds, the emphasis is on the music. The guitar licks are flowing now, and his familiarity with traditional guitar rock is increasingly apparent. He is wise to lean back on the familiar, as the crowd happily joins him in singing “Waiting On the World to Change.” But again, this side of Mayer is familiar, and his craftsmanship as a pop song writer could never be questioned. It is, however, only when you see him live that you begin to recognize he is not just another pop star. John Mayer is more likely the heir to the throne in American Jazz/Blues guitar.
The show continues towards a predictable, cathartic end, and as this great party winds down, I realize I have seen much more than I expected. At its best, live music represents an opportunity for comradery with like minded music fans, and a chance to see aspects of a performer that haven’t been captured in a studio. These elements, played out in a great venue, have lead to tremendous entertainment, and I realize my children may not recognize how fortunate they have been tonight. To mark the occasion, we’re sure to save the ticket stubs, as my wife and I both feel Mayer’s best years are ahead of him. And to think, I thought I felt good walking in to this concert.