I’ve written several times over the years about how I was shocked at the number of people who showed up to see Flogging Molly at the Midtown Ballroom in 2007. I knew they were a well-liked band, but had no idea they could pack a cavernous venue in little ol’ Bend, Oregon.
After Saturday night’s Beats Antique show in the same space, I now have a new standard to use when expressing my surprise at a band’s draw.
That’s not to say I didn’t realize the Bay Area-based global/electro/bellydance fusion band is popular. I just don’t think I realized they could fill Bend’s biggest indoor venue to the brim. But they did, with around 1,200 people, according to organizers. And it was a sight to see.
I’ll expand more on this — including some of the factors that contributed to Saturday’s explosive scene — in Friday’s GO! Magazine in The Bulletin. In the meantime, here are four videos of Beats Antique playing for a whole bunch of happy, smiling, dancing souls in Bend.
Anyway, if there’s a silver lining to today’s big dump (besides, you know, the economic gain for local snow-dependent businesses), it’s that Dick Dale — the King of the Surf Guitar — is riding a wave of reverb-drenched sound into town tonight for a show at the Domino Room, and he’s just the man to transport your mind from blizzard-y Central Oregon to some faraway beach where the big barrels roll in like a game of Donkey Kong on the hardest level.
What was I saying again?
Oh right: Tonight, be sure you show up on time (that’s 8 p.m.) for an opening set by local rockers Shade 13, a trio that makes old-soul surf and rockabilly that could be the soundtrack of some grainy Spaghetti Western film. The band has been playing regularly around Central Oregon for a while now, but this is, I think, their highest profile gig yet, so get out and support ‘em.
Still unconvinced? Check out the three videos below, shot by my colleague Adam Sears when Shade 13 played at Grover’s Pub back in December.
Up-and-coming Seattle soul band Pickwick played a solid show for a good-sized crowd at McMenamins Old St. Francis School in Bend Thursday night.
I’ll have more thoughts on it in Friday’s GO! Magazine in The Bulletin, but for now, here are a few videos I shot of the guys in action. The first is one of the few songs Pickwick has released to this point; the second and third are unreleased and likely to appear on the band’s debut album, which is expected later this year. Enjoy!
My review of Monday’s Felice Brothers concert at Silver Moon Brewing is in today’s GO! Magazine in The Bulletin, and here are some bonus photos and videos of the show.
The photos were taken by The Bulletin’s Rob Kerr, and the videos were shot by me. Enjoy!
Watching Danny Barnes play the banjo is a sweet, sublime experience. The alt-country veteran — a former Bad Liver and current Dave Matthews associate — possesses an endearing blend of virtuosic skill and experimental eccentricity that, when combined with his soft-spoken style and goofy, ever-present grin, makes for a very mellow but mind-bending kind of show.
Last Thursday at Maverick’s Country Bar and Grill in Bend, Barnes bounced back and forth between his twangy, low-key tunes and extended banjo jams, which he often introduced by singing “let the banjer play,” as if it was its own entity. And in a way, it was. When Barnes would retreat into a long instrumental stretch, he’d back away from the mic, his eyelids would lower, and that grin would creep across his face, as if he was checking out of reality and letting his fingers cast a spell.
The magic wasn’t all in Barnes’ fingers, though. It also came from a small table covered with electrical cords and effects pedals that the man treated like his own personal grown-up toy box. Barnes made heavy use of reverb and delay effects, as well as spacey, ambient noises, and he used some sort of pedal that lowered the pitch of his strings, allowing him to play bass lines, which he would record and then play back on a loop. And he seemed to delight in ending his songs by pushing a button that sent all the recorded loops into reverse (like this) for no apparent reason other than just for fun. Which is a better reason than any other, I guess.
Barnes did several songs from his outstanding 2009 album “Pizza Box,” including the lolling title track, the bumpy clatter of “Miss Misty Swan” (complete with some of the most tolerable scat singing I’ve ever heard), and the cheeky love song “TSA.” The prettiest and best song of the night was also from “Pizza Box,” called “Overdue.” Even in a venue with pool tables across the way and a bar ringed with people, it was one of those show-stopping moments where it seems like everything outside the stage lights fades away.
Barnes also played a few songs from his upcoming album “Rocket,” which he pulled out of the suitcase at the back of the stage to offer to the crowd. (The suitcase had a sweater draped across it, as if Barnes rolled into town and headed straight to Maverick’s, bringing inside everything he had with him.) He also declared himself a “tape freak” and showed off some cassettes he had available for sale, hand-made at his kitchen table. “I found some sparkly paper at the copy shop,” Barnes said, pointing at the cover.
And therein lies the considerable charm of Danny Barnes: Mega-talent, DIY enthusiast, smart businessman, oddball experimentalist, and above all, creator of beautiful music. And now, provider of the most understated great show of 2011 in Central Oregon.
Here are a few videos of the night that showcase all the twangy, pretty and jammy sides that make Danny Barnes so interesting:
(Thanks to a busy schedule, it’s been a month since MusicfestNW took over Portland and I still haven’t published daily recaps of my experience. My bad. Still, I think seeing 20 of the coolest bands going over three days is worth documenting, even belatedly. So below, you’ll find Day 3. Day 1 is here and Day 2 is here. And if you’d like to read my overview of the festival’s highlights that ran in print, click here.)
One of the great things about events like Portland’s MusicfestNW is the shoulder-to-shoulder variety. You can see a funk legend and then a futuristic electro-pop duo and then a throwback ’90s indie rock band like I did on Day 1 of this year’s festival. Or you can see a local pop-rock band followed by a white-hot hip-hop artist followed by a quiet, heart-wringing female singer-songwriter like I did on Day 2. (And that’s without venturing out to the venues that focused on electronic, metal, jazz and country!)
Or you can do what I did on Saturday night of MusicfestNW 2011 and see seven bands that all fall somewhere on the post/punk/psych/rock/metal/drone spectrum.
The part of me that digs that particular musical spectrum has been growing over the past few years; after a lifetime of pop-rock, twang and hip-hop, I have found myself increasingly attracted to the sludgy, spacey, squealy sounds of good ol’ psychedelic rock bands. So I was excited for Saturday’s lineup.
An oasis of calm in the madness of MusicfestNW.
That excitement was tempered, perhaps, by two things. 1) I was tired. By Saturday afternoon, I’d grown cranky and indecisive; I skipped a bunch of sweet day parties with free music and food in favor of shopping for records and sitting, quietly, in a Big Town Hero with a Diet Coke and an alt-weekly in an effort to chill. I am not proud. And 2) That night’s headliner at the Doug Fir, the fine British pop band The Vaccines, canceled just days before the festival because of health issues. There are a lot of great acts at MusicfestNW, but that cancellation took out one of the bands I was most excited to see.
Anyway, Saturday began at 4 p.m. at Pioneer Courthouse Square, “Portland’s living room,” as it’s known, in the middle of downtown. There, one of my favorite artists ever — Matthew Cooper, aka Eluvium — had the unenviable task of playing ambient music for a mid-afternoon crowd on what might have been the hottest day of the year. I loved every second of it, but I can certainly understand how passers-by (and even many folks who showed up early to get a good spot for the evening’s headliner, Explosions in the Sky) might’ve thought, “What the hell is this noise?” Well, that noise is some of the most mind-bendingly beautiful music being made these days by one of the most inventive musicians of the past decade. Here’s a long sample; please note that all I did for most of the time was hang the camera from my wrist while filming. Whatever you see here was the intent.
(Thanks to a busy schedule, it’s been a month since MusicfestNW took over Portland and I still haven’t published daily recaps of my experience. My bad. Still, I think seeing 20 of the coolest bands going over three days is worth documenting, even belatedly. So below, you’ll find Day 2; find Day 1 here and be sure to look for Day 3 on Monday. And if you’d like to read my overview of the festival’s highlights that ran in print, click here.)
When you attend a large music festival like Portland’s multi-venue, multi-genre MusicfestNW, you have to know going in that such events cost money, and therefore they’ll be pursuing sponsors, and so you’re likely to be bombarded with corporate promotions and logos when all you’re trying to do is go see some rock shows. It’s just the way it is.
Still, it felt a little funny to me to be sitting and waiting for Ted Leo — one of the most staunchly independent punk-rock figures of the past two decades — inside a Dr. Martens store, surrounded by former- and faux-punk fashion staples and eating free barbecue-flavored popchips and drinking free berry-flavored vitaminwater, both grabbed from giant bins full of product meant to get me hooked on popchips and vitaminwater. (Did those two companies lose their shift key and space bar or what?)
When he took the stage in front of a packed house, Leo announced that he was playing the show because Dr. Martens revived its vegan line of boots, which at least made the whole thing make a little more sense. He then launched into a solo set that included pretty much all my favorite Ted Leo tunes: “Me and Mia” and “The Sword In the Stone” and “Under the Hedge” and “Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?” Here’s that last one:
(Find all our coverage of the 2011 Bend Roots Revival, including a preview of the event and recaps of all three days, by clicking here.)
As if it was determined to present a well-rounded microcosm of life in Bend, the Bend Roots Revival’s third day brought about much cooler temperatures and, with them, this town’s impressive collection of fuzzy, puffy, fleecy, downy jackets. I don’t know if it was the weather or some other factor, but the Sunday crowd at Roots seemed much smaller than I expected. Maybe I was seeing things wrong.
There was, however, a good-sized gathering around veteran folk singer Allan Byer on the Casey’s Corner stage when I showed up in the mid-afternoon. For 15 minutes, at least, Byer had one of the few spots on the schedule with no competing sets, which no doubt helped draw people in. But the guy also has been playing anywhere and everywhere in Central Oregon for years, and he has gathered a following, I’m sure. It’s easy to see why; Byer’s sound is soothing and tasteful, the perfect start to any Sunday afternoon full of music. I arrived just in time to capture one of his trademark Bruce Cockburn covers:
(Find all our coverage of the 2011 Bend Roots Revival, including a preview of the event and recaps of all three days, by clicking here.)
Sometimes it seems like my Twitter feed is full of nothing but Bendites who go to every single event in this town, floating from free concert to art walk to seasonal festival to bike race to free concert to art walk to seasonal festival to bike race to … you get the picture.
Yesterday, I felt like one of those folks.
My goal was to arrive at the Bend Roots Revival at 1 p.m. to see Franchot Tone play his disarming reggae-pop, but a last-minute errand put me in the car, driving across town at that time. Community radio to the rescue! I turned my dial to 88.9 FM, where KPOV was broadcasting live from the festival’s BIGS Stage, and listened to at least half of Tone’s set, including several originals, his sharp cover of the Beastie Boys’ “Sabotage” and a frisky funk jam by The Meters.
When I did finally arrive at the Century Center, I ventured first into the courtyard, where a growing crowd and competing noise from two stages made it feel a bit too chaotic. So I retreated to the Good Life Stage for some jazz guitar wizardry from longtime local Rich Hurdle. I’d never seen him before, but his casual style and laid-back sound was an ideal antidote to the hustle and bustle of the courtyard. Here’s his take on “Triste” by bossa nova pioneer Antonio Carlos Jobim:
For some large percentage of the world’s population, this anniversary doesn’t mean much. And for some smaller, more cynical group of people, it means another chance to roll their eyes whenever someone begins to wax poetic about the album and what it meant/means in the context of punk rock/popular music/pop culture/fashion/the Northwest music scene/hero worship/conformity/nonconformity/whatever.
I understand that. Just as one might scoff at the notion that “Nevermind” changed a lot of lives (besides Kurt Cobain’s, Krist Novoselic’s and Dave Grohl’s), I will probably scoff one day when some young whippersnapper claims their life was changed by, say, Kanye West’s “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy” or Arcade Fire’s “The Suburbs.” (No slag intended. Both are fine albums; see #11 and #25 here.)
It’s the circle of life, or at least the circle of thinking your formative music is the most important music ever and subconsciously diminishing that which came before or after. Y’know … that circle.
But I’m here to tell you: “Nevermind” changed lives. It changed mine. I went from listening to Bobby Brown in 6th grade to Def Leppard and INXS in 8th grade to Nirvana in 10th grade to discovering the Pixies and Pavement and Teenage Fanclub and my weird local college radio station and on and on. From there, it was a deep, dark rabbit hole of music super-nerd-dom that I tumbled into, and that I still haven’t climbed out of. Thank goodness.
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