- Part 29

K442384N

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The Casualties at BackBooth 6.19.2007

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Jun 192007

Furious Jorge

The first drawback to punk shows when you are a grown-up is that they usually start when the sun is still up. The pre-dusk show time lead me to miss ‚ÄúPunk for Life Tour‚Äù-mates L.A‚Äôs Time Again and Boston street punkers A Global Threat. The upside to this is that I don‚Äôt have to watch a procession of angry pre-teens coolly ignoring their moms as they saunter out of minivans.

When I get there, BackBooth is packed and hot. And, if I had any doubt as to what kind of show I stumbled into, the phrase, ‚Äúfuckin‚Äô hardcore motherfuckin‚Äô punk fuckin‚Äô rock‚Äù greeted me at the front door as it rode the magic carpet of PBR through my nostrils.

The Casualties took the stage and tore through their set. These guys are ‚Äústreet punk‚Äù a.k.a – fucking ugly. No primped ‚Äúmall punk‚Äù here, The Casualties are serious. Jorge‚Äôs voice is classic hardcore, screeching and pissed. Megger‚Äôs drumming is solid and powerful and elevated their attack from sheer noise to tenacious.

Some of the standout songs were from 2004‚Äôs¬†On The Front Line. ‚ÄúCasualties Army‚Äù and ‚ÄúThe World Belongs to Us‚Äù created a frenzy through the room. The energy of the crowd is palpable, or maybe it‚Äôs just the B.O. and angst.¬† Navigating the swirling, all encompassing pit was hard with camera in hand‚Ä¶ well, when in Rome. I cleared my path with a forearm to the throat here and elbow to the skull there. Wow, I miss this, but I am too old. I think I may have seriously hurt some 6th graders.

As Jorge‚Äôs trademark brightly colored hair spikes became flaccid so did my interest. Then, just like that, it was over. Time to beat the minivans.

Article originally appeared in REAX Issue #15, May 15 2007

Mayhem at The Casualties show

Souls of Mischief at Firestone 5.3.2007

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May 152007

"07 til Infinity" just doesn't sound right

Attending concerts for years instilled my assumption that hip-hop sucks live. I know, I know some rap shows can be truly inspirational; the Beastie Boys, Jurassic 5, Sage Francis all come to mind. More recently, Del the Funky Homosapien ripped up the Social in Orlando while simultaneously downing a bottle of Patron. That fact helps convince me fellow members of the Hieroglyphics click, Souls of Mischief, may be capable of the same. Chill beats, and jazzy, trip-hop samples mixed with unique flows translate better in the right venues. My hope that this show will be special is enhanced when I find out it is upstairs in The Firestone’s more intimate V.I.P. area.

When I make my way in at 10:30 p.m. the joint is empty. I notice a makeshift Jon-Benet fashion show-type stage crammed in the corner between the men’s crapper and the bar. My first concern is the sound and how it will project into the “L” shaped second floor. No worries though, no live music is going to start for another hour and a half! Currently, I and maybe five others are being entertained by the DJ stylings of Park Ave. CDs own Kitty Bat – maybe the highlight of the evening.

Midnight rolls around and the crowd reaches its apogee ‚maybe 70 people. The first act takes the “stage” and my fears of inept audio ring true. Neither the music or vocals are discernable and small groups of bewildered, disaffected hipsters mill about to the droning thuds of inaudible hip-hop. After the dread-lock guy comes out, another unintelligible dread-lock guy, followed by two guys in matching neon pajamas (not to be funny, but to be cool I think. Very Kid n Play). Usually one attending a rap show can figure out who is on stage because they say their name 400 times, but if they did, I couldn’t hear it. It is about 1:30 a.m. and the din of Thursday night ravers below bleeds through upstairs.

It is now 1:45 a.m. and the Souls of Mischief feel properly warmed up and drunk. They come out and despite the sound difficulties (feedback even Jimi Hendrix would be proud of) tear through their set with the most professionalism of any act so far. By 3:00 a.m. the group’s Patron bottle is empty which is probably what prompts A-Plus to spark up on stage. Finally, with the opening notes of “93 til Infinity” I am instantly taken back to my senior year and partying with my friends. Thanks A-Plus! This was the only remotely recognizable moment for the whole show, further sustaining my former assumption. What do you want for $5?

Article originally appeared in REAX issue #13, May 15 2007

Tegan and Sara at The Social 11.25.2005

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Nov 252005

Couldn't find any nude images of these two going butt-to-butt so this will have to do.

We know what you’re thinking: They’re gay and Canadian … great. Actually, neither of these contribute greatly to Tegan and Sara’s sonic integrity; it’s just that obnoxious music types like us feel the need to attack easy targets (especially the Canadian thing). Between their Lilith-Fair / Ani DiFranco-ish beginnings and their present manicured power-pop delivery, the sister’s Quinn must be doing something right. After being discovered by Neil Young, they were hand-picked to open for the likes of Chrissie Hynde, Ryan Adams, and Rufus Wainwright. Their latest album, So Jealous, is a well-crafted, punky, pop-y, low-fi gem, produced in part by the New Pornographers’ David Carswell, with musical contributions by Matt Sharp (Weezer, the Rentals). Even mainstream garage Goliath’s like the White Stripes covered T&S’s “Walking With a Ghost” and screwed it up.

A T&S show should include folksy but gutsy acoustic duets, charged and catchy garage pop and, of course, their infamous onstage banter. Rumor has it these yummy twins can get a bit blue during their act. Behave, ladies – don’t make us discipline you.

Article originally appeared in the Orlando Weekly, November 24-30 2005

The Rebirth Brass Band at The Social 10.19.2005

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Nov 172005

The Rebirth Brass Band

If this years trip to the Big Easy, for let’s say the Voodoo Fest or Mardi Gras, is cancelled due to fears of inept government infrastructure or possibly being shot in the face because you were mistaken for an aid worker; have no fear a fat slice of N’awlins is visiting O-Town. The vivacious sounds and raucous rhythms of RBB will stomp and march their way through The Social extolling the virtues of brass band tradition with a twist. They blend their traditional feel with contemporary sensibilities. Booming up-tempo tunes, spirituals, rags, and marching numbers are infused heavy funk, pounding rhythms, and pop, rock, and rap nuances. Like fellow New Orleans progressives the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, RBB invokes a cocky and cool redesign of the brass band.

Each tune starts with the tuba, but not your chubby cousin Clarence’s tuba, but thick rhythmic notes that sound more like hip-hop bass lines than a high school marching band. Bright vivid horns soon follow with a booming bass drum and cadence driven snare, creating a sound that is more foot driven than heady. Their music is true and honest, graduating from the streets of New Orleans to play theatres and festivals world wide. So we advise you to come and listen to the music that started it all in America and feel what it was like to be a rocker at the turn of the twentieth century. Think of the beauty of the Mississippi River Delta, get drunk, get beads, (ladies) take off your shirts, and give room service a jangle to fetch you some etouffee.

Article originally appeared in the Orlando Weekly, November 17 -23 2005

Sage Francis at The Social 11.8.2005

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Nov 142005

Vicious vegan

Normally, we would rather stay home and remove our own pubic hair with a roll of masking tape than listen to a white, straight-edge, vegetarian, political rapper from Rhode Island. Every deliciously painful yank of the tape would be a symphony compared to the lame droning of emo hip-hop, except for the overwhelming fact that Sage Francis is for real. He is a battle hardened, road tested MC and spoken word poet. As the first rapper signed to Epitaph records Sage brings wicked beats and scathing, insightful rhymes to his brand of DIY hip-hop. Francis on-stage with an 808 makes Eminem’s arena show seem like the Muppets on Ice. On topics like George W. Bush and globalization Sage’s venomous lyrics will have independent thinkers, libertarians, Green partiers, and cry baby Kerry supporters licking their chops, while the conservative right will cluck disapprovingly (or have absolutely no idea who Sage Francis is).

As part of the KnowMore.org Tour with, among others, our own Sol Illiquists of Sound, you will know more with all the science they be droppin’ Witty verbal sparring, political potshots, and dope beats will prevail making our heads bob regardless of our meat consumption or political affiliation.

Article originally appeared in the Orlando Weekly, November 3 – 9 2005

Gov’t Mule at The House of Blues 11.15.2005

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Nov 102005

Mule in Chief, Warren Haynes

Ah, the Mule. I can’t remember the last time these guys toured, oh wait, it was like four seconds ago. A cursory glance at Government Mule’s website is proof they are a perennial touring machine. The News tab and Tour tab display virtually identical content. There is no news. No drunken car wreck or supermodel marriages. How can there be when you never stop playing? Honestly, I think these guys stand on the roof of their tour bus and play for traffic en route to their next gig. One advantage to nonstop touring is developing cohesion that few bands ever attain. Although they attract twitchy Phish-heads desperate for a noodle fix, the Mule possess a powerful, majestic southern sincerity that leans more toward the grittiness of rock than the kitsch of hippy-dippy.

So wear comfortable shoes, dump a bottle of patchouli on your head and do the hippy freak-out dance until you puke up your psychedelic mushrooms because the versatile Warren Haynes and co. are going to let it rip in the state where the Mule was born.

Article originally appeared in the Orlando Weekly, November 10 ‚ 2005