My Morning Jacket was voted Best Live Act of 2011 for a reason. They deliver tender folk-tinged rock, dreamy alt pop, and arena bombast with high energy and precision accuracy. MMJ has enough balls to experiment with their delivery by exploring their own music with thunderous improvisational jams and pulling randomly from an ever-growing catalog of powerful songs from night-to-night. Stamp this high octane mixture with the gripping and expansive vocals of an enigmatic yet engaging frontman and you got yourself a rock show. Last night at the Hard Rock Live in Orlando, FL was no exception.
The setlist was excellent despite lacking some of the deep cuts surfacing at other stops on this tour such as “Strangulation,” “The Bear,” “Cobra,” and “Heartbreakin’ Man” to name a few (We did get “Bermuda Highway” though).
The Pixies | Photo by Kelley Jackson http://www.lucy-pearl.com/
Something tells me the folks at Festival Republic have done this before. Every bit of the event was seamless. It was organized and well orchestrated but laid back. The website was killer and the mobile app was a great tool. Everything from the entry process to The Killers Friday VIP show at The Beacham Theater, picking up media credentials, entering the festival, and navigating the property to concessions, music schedule, and set changes were meticulously executed. Bathrooms were abundant and clean (a major feat for a rock festival), concessions and merch were plentiful and logically located, and there were even free water refill stations sponsored by Camel Pak where concertgoers could refill their water for free! Even the concessions seemed to be on a schedule; it felt like every 15-20 minutes a vendor selling Heineken products and water would appear in the crowd when you needed them most. The police presence was strong, but subdued. I thought a world-class festival would not work in Orlando because our large and overzealous police force would take the opportunity to set up driving checkpoints and festival entry anal probes that would scare most fans away.
The grounds were clean, well planned and easy to navigate which made jumping from stage to stage rather easy – never taking more than 5 minutes to get to the next band. A lot of this could be due to the low turnout, but there is no doubt that Festival Republic runs a tight ship and it would be a shame if they didn’t return because Orlando is full of late adopters.
FRIDAY
The Killers VIP show
The inaugural installment of what hopefully becomes a successful tradition in Orlando Calling started with a bang as The Killers played a warm-up VIP concert at The Beacham Theater. I wasn’t sure if this would be a true warm-up or an intimate setting to debut new music. It was neither. It was a festival size show shoehorned into a historic downtown Orlando club.
SATURDAY
Saturday was the alt / indie part of the festival as it seemed to be compartmentalized into Saturday indie, hip-hop (to some degree), and alternative with sprinkles of Top 40 and country and Sunday adult-contemporary, classic rock, and heavier doses of country.
This was the first band I caught and they were excellent. This Detroit-based rock/soul band energized the crowd with a fat sound that seemed to embody as much goth as it did soul with the pin-up look perfectly suited for the horn section and her giant voice.
Deep Dark Woods
I moved from Jessica Fernandez at one stage to another band I haven’t had the chance to hear in Deep Dark Woods. These guys were great and reminded me of a Fleet Foxes meets Band of Horses sound. Immediately I was impressed and reminded of another wonderful attribute of a good festival; being turned on to new music just by wandering around.
Gogol Bordello
I knew these guys could bring it. From large festivals to more intimate settings like NPR’s Tiny Desk series, Gogol Bordello can work a crowd with their eclectic gypsy punk. They were one of the brightest spots on Saturday.
Kid Cudi
I was really excited about this show. I adore Man on the Moon and realized this was Cudi’s first trip to Florida. He brought a live band to amp up his songs and it was great, but the awesome band just made me realize how much I loved Ratatat’s production.
Kid Cudi | Photo by Kelley Jackson - http://www.lucy-pearl.com/
The Avett Brothers
I just don’t get it. It just feels like a watered-down Dave Matthews frat version of a folk rock like Iron and Wine. I had a Slayer shirt on and as I exited the show an Avett fan yelled, “Awww where are you going?!” I could hear his friend reply, “Dude, Slayer.”
I missed two bands I was looking to see in Iron and Wine and Civil Twilight. There are always casualties in a festival that has a lot to offer.
The Pixies
There was no bigger casualty for me than Dr. Dog. I love their late Beatles-esque retro rock. This was one of the bands that got me psyched up to come out, but alas, they played the same time that The Pixies did. I went with The Pixies and was not let down as they played all of Doolittle and closed with “Gigantic.” No “Where is my Mind” though.
The Raconteurs
I decided to see part of The Raconteurs show before moving to see the Roots. Jack White and the dudes from The Greenhorns sounded better than ever, but some of the effect was lost on the vast emptiness of the Citrus Bowl. The Citrus Bowl is massive and the only people that ever sell that out are U2 and the Rolling Stones so trying to put a dent in the Citrus Bowl is a large feat.
The Roots
The Roots delivered the rousing festival performance I sought minus one glaring omission: No ?uestlove! It appears ongoing politics with The Roots and their drummer got in the way of a big performance.
The Killers
The Killers were set to close out day 1 and they did a great job in front of a cool projection screen. It’s just that the band’s current drawing power and the vastness of the Citrus Bowl made the show feel small, a major contrast to their Friday performance. The Killers would have been perfect as the last band before Radiohead or the Foo Fighters, bands that people from other states will travel to see.
SUNDAY
Following Saturday’s small-ish turnout I expected Sunday to be a bust, but there were actually more people turning out for Sunday’s line-up. Never under estimate central Florida’s desire to party hard around classic rock and country. There were moms and dads a-plenty cruising the grounds. They seemed to be spending more as the midway and food areas were far busier than the previous day. Leave it to Orlando hipsters to complain about Orlando’s inability to have something cool then ignore it when it happens only to be outshined by their parents rockin’ out to The Doob.
Los Lonely Boys
I saw Los Lonely boys wrap up their set to a packed tent. I never really got into them before but dug their Stevie Ray Vaughn-like take on music with a killer rhythm section and a flailing screeching guitar hero.
Have Gun Will Travel
Bradenton’s HGWT were also sounding sharp as I caught the tail end of their set. This is definitely a band I wanted to see in their entirety since the last performance I caught at Anti*Pop.
Robert Randolph & the Family Band
Sometimes the jam scene drives me nuts so I opted out of Warren Haynes to hit another jam mainstay in Robert Randolph. This guy can set a stage on fire with his furious slide guitar and today was no exception.
Bloody Jug Band
I took a detour to the Art House tent to catch BJB as their description depicted a macabre version of the 20’s jug bands. They were pretty cool as they played some originals and toyed with classics from Johnny Cash and Merle Haggard. Their mandolin player was a cut above the rest.
Buddy Guy
This dude is 75 years old and he can still shred guitar and work a crowd. Wrapping up the show with a crushing “Voodoo Chile” cover that had him playing the gee-tar with his teeth and his ass. Actually it was the second rousing “Voodoo Chile” on that stage that day with Robert Randolph tearing through one earlier.
The Mudflappers
This was another retro-influenced band at the Art House tent. These guys were great and had a Squirrel Nut Zipper-like attention to detail and a unique sound – one of my favorites from Sunday.
This guy just gets better and better and now he has a band to back up what he writes. In addition to Thomas on guitar and vocals, Olivia Wynn and her angelic and soulful backing vocals, and Chris Bell lighting the “Mississippi Saxophone” on fire, Thomas was joined by Shak Nasti’s shredder, Tim Turner and legendary Orlando musician Anthony Cole now on bass duty.
Chris Issac
I either missed or he didn’t play “Wicked Game” and “Somebody’s Cryin’.” I’m not embarrassed to admit I wear a Slayer shirt and love those songs. His A-list band did bust out some killer covers of Jerry Lee Lewis, Elvis, Sam Cooke, Roy Orbison and more as Isaac worked the crowd with ease and worked his shimmering mirror ball suit as well.
***
I had to call it a night and missed Seger and Dwight Yoakam. I would see them both just because they are who they are and Dwight was god damn Doyle in Slingblade!
I would say everything but the attendance was a success. This was an impeccable festival experience, but lacked something to draw larger numbers. One problem was Bear Creek took away at least 3,000 people that would go to Orlando Calling just for a festival experience. Another issue was there was no monumental draw other than The Pixies to bring people from all over the southeast down to Orlando. Filling the Citrus Bowl is tough too. Glancing at the side stages, it seemed like any other festival, but seeing the Bowl filled to 1/3 capacity for headliners made it obvious that they did not get the numbers they wanted. I think when word gets out about how well this was run and that Orlando has better weather than just about anywhere else in the country in November that this could become the destination festival that it was intended to be. Throw in a shitty techno tent and 10,000 more people will come out. Please don’t give up on us Melvin Benn and Festival Republic!
There’s nothing like a stadium-ready band blowing the doors off a club at a private show to kick off a weekend of music. The inaugural installment of what hopefully becomes a successful tradition in Orlando Calling started with a bang as The Killers played a warm-up VIP concert at The Beacham Theater. I wasn’t sure if this would be a warm-up or an intimate setting to debut new music. It was neither. It was a festival size show shoehorned into a historic downtown Orlando club. Brandon Flowers and company tore through a greatest hits setlist that included every arena pop anthem they ever released. No need to list them because it was all of them including their cover of Joy Division’s “Shadowplay.”
The Tiger Lillies descended on the quaint little Jaeb Theater (apart from a dingy German cabaret – the perfect place for this show) at Tampa’s Straz Center for the Performing Arts Thursday night to deliver a varied and open set of their unique brand of musical mayhem.
The set was so open in fact that it seemed like the set list was evolving as the band played. The ferocious and brilliant Martyn Jacques, looking like a drunk Dickensian Gene Simmons would abandon intros and stomp off stage to grab sheet music in order to play a different song. He would survey his instruments (He moved from his trademark accordion to piano and guitar throughout the performance) in between songs as if to ask, “What do I feel like doing next?” and band member’s Adrian Huge (percussion) and Adrian Stout (bass, theremin, saw) would key in on Martyn, waiting for cues as to what came next. Martyn’s voice was another instrument; tackling his trademark shrill falsetto, his gravely, deep Tom Waites-like low-end and everything in between with ease.
The Adrians’ were astounding. Stout “walked the dog,” slapping at his upright bass like it owed him money, creating a smooth, chugging backbone for most songs. On other tunes he added eerie ambiance with the theremin or saw.
Huge is one of the wittiest and most inventive percussionists I’ve ever witnessed live. His sturdy frame added delicate rhythm and subtle melodic charm for the duration of the evening. He played a rag-tag kit that would make a hair metal drummer gasp and faint at its austerity. A bass drum from a child’s kit adorned with a rubber chicken was accompanied by a piccolo snare and tiny tom-tom. Accents were added with a disheveled rack of varied, tiny splash and china splash cymbals. He also had a tool kit that allowed him to add percussive genius with tambourines, triangles, woodblocks, squeak toys, and even play a song with nothing but a mirrored disco ball and a rhythm egg. The Adrians’ added that twisted cabaret / vaudeville charm with their antics, attire, backing vocals, and humorous banter.
The Tiger Lillies just wrapped up a Vienna residency performing their latest twisted and depraved tale in Georg Buchnor’s Woyzeck, and more recently Sinderella in Brooklyn earlier this month. As Jacques noted in our interview, he was excited to play a more wide-open set list and move away from the theatrical show pieces. The Lillies were all over the map and played songs from various points in their 22-year career. Their darkly humorous brand of macabre songwriting ranges in subject matter from death and vice to lunacy and love. They worked the crowd into frenzy with classics like “Banging in the Nails” (a song about the first-hand joys of crucifying Jesus), “Gin” (from The Gorey End, about a worldly soldier’s terminal addiction to drink), and “Bully Boys” (a bullied child’s violent revenge). They opened the floor to suggestions and among all the calls for a wide variety of songs they played “Piss on Your Grave” (a wildly awful story about killing just about every major figure in the bible then pissing on their grave) and ended the show with Hamsters after an audience member derailed their attempts to close with another song with her constant calls for “Hamsters!” To give you an idea about the song is about, the show ended with Huge comically tugging on Jacques ass as Stout made grinding sounds on his bass. Huge yanked hard to remove a giant hamster from Martyn’s ass. – pretty awesome.
Early shows really get my panties in a bunch! I guess The Beacham really isn’t a premiere concert destination, but Tabu living a double life as a sometimes-live venue. So, arriving at 9pm, I already missed Active Child. Just as the lines at the door tapered around 9:30 M83 took the stage.
Set to an astral backdrop of shimmering stars frontman, Anthony Gonzalez, greeted the near-capacity crowd in some sort of grotesque Fraggle Rock alien outfit and we went apeshit. M83 is loud, real loud. They blended new wave electronica, arena rock volume, shoegaze reverb, and a psychedelic light show for a punchy little 90-minute set that sounded like AIR meets New Order.
The band dipped into their latest release, the ambitious double disc Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming for tracks like “Reunion,” “Steve McQueen,” and the subtle but stirring “Wait.” The crowd soaked in every moment as M83 moved through classics like “Kim & Jessie,” “We Own the Sky,” and closing with the epic instrumental “Couleurs.”
I was actually pleased they didn’t play “Graveyard Girl” because it seems“tweeny.” As the show ended, the audience roared and Gonzalez removed his guitar to sacrifice it to the rock gods. My only contention there is that I’m pretty sure there is a hard rule somewhere in the books of rock ‘n roll that you cannot grind your axe into the monitors, hold it in the air then lean it against your amp as you exit the stage unless you’ve had at least two (minimum) face-melter solos. Other than that, they passed.
Said the Whale hopped in a van in their hometown of Vancouver to play a short series of dates through the U.S to end up in Miami tonight for a show at The Vagabond. For some inexplicable yet awesome reason, they played a free show at Winter Park’s Austin Coffee and Film. These are Juno Award Winner’s (kind of Canada’s version of the Grammy) crushing a coffee house for freakin’ free!
Besides being blown away by the weather (they noted, “It’s nighttime and I’m sweating. I don’t think I’ve ever said that” while I noted that I’ve said “It’s nighttime and I’m NOT sweating” about 3 times in my life in central Florida) – they blew away a small but dedicated audience at this area art house coffee shop.
The shared lead vocal duties of Ben Worcester and Tyler Bancroft, keyboards, and female backing vocals of super yummy Jaycelyn Brown give them a sweet, melodic indie sound while their bruising rhythm section (Nathan Shaw on bass and Spencer Schoening on drums) and duel guitar approach lends some thudding rock to a sound that pulls from folk, pop, and indie rock.
Opening band, We are the City were also from Canada. They were a pleasant surprise reminding me of Mimicking Birds with their ability to swerve from tender and intimate to overwhelming on the heels of an explosive bag-of-bones Bonham-like drummer.
STW’s EP, New Brighton, is due out in November and a yet to be titled LP will be out next year.
Door times for this show were pushed back because of the big Latin festival, Calle Orange, in downtown Orlando. So I go there about an hour early (Doors moved from 7pm to 9:30 pm) and had the great fortune to witness blocked city streets with piles of refuse and several drunken fights, bum fights, AND drunken bum fights. I may have missed AMC’s Walking Dead last night, but I got the chance to actually live it for a moment!
I waited in line, enveloped by the fuming stench of full port-o-lets lining Orange Ave. in front of Firestone. The queue was subjected to a fine chemical mist comprised of an undefined fluid churned up from a thorough street sweeper and the fumes wafting from the septic trucks draining the wretched little plastic boxes. What is this Bonnaroo?!
Firestone’s line was brutally inefficient because each person entering the venue was subject to a pat-down, ransacking of personal items, and anal probe that would make any TSA agent proud. They searched each pocket in purses, rummaging through personal goods including lipstick for … I don’t know … bomb making material? This is Little Dragon we’re seeing here, not Skrewdriver.
My disdain for life was defused by San Francisco’s Tycho aka Scott Hansen. Although I hadn’t heard Tycho, friend’s were excited to see them and for good reason. This 3 piece was able to create powerful, ambient, melodic instrumentals on the spine of good drum work and a melding of synth, loops, and guitar:
I’ve said just about everything there is to say about Little Dragon. They are a force live and although this show lacked some of the power, jams, and run time of their previous BackBooth experiences (being a snob) it was still another killer performance:
Grunge-y noise rocksters (I love that I just make up words), Yuck, stopped by The Social last night to lay down a wall of fuzzy pop distortion. One indicator of a good songwriting is to develop a signature sound while simultaneously creating catchy songs with great hooks that have instantly recognizable melodies on their own. Yuck is a able to construct relevant indie rock songs like this under the retro blanket of early 90′s grunge influence.
A solid rhythm section roots these songs in a strong foundation as the duel, wall-of-guitar approach adds a heavy and sometimes psychedelic aural aesthetic. Mostly rhythm guitarist and lead singer, Daniel Blumberg, hunches over his Gibson SG and crunches out chords looking like a young, malnourished Bob Dylan. Even more impressive than Daniel is mostly lead guitarist, Max Bloom’s, ability to wrangle the squelching fury of all his pedals enough to hear the harmonics and soft touch he lends behind the noise. I think he is a guitarist to watch as the band evolves.
The opener was Porcelain Raft that sounded something between Icelandic trance rock and American indie laptop pop. It’s a dichotomy: Simultaneously amazing that single songwriter performer can manage all the loops and machines and pedals to create an ambient concert experience while equally amazing how much having a real band would be so much better. Does that make sense?
The show was a short, energetic run through of most of Yuck’s material. Since they had the headlining spot this time around I expected more extended jams and deep cuts or covers to stretch out the show and flex some muscle. Other than a few mini jams and the epic “Rubber” it was quick and concise and I was home by 11:30. Man I’m getting old.
I wouldn’t flinch if some governing body deemed My Morning Jacket the best live rock band in music right now – not a bit. The band is tight and rocks the fuck out – capable of cranking out pop rockers, electronica-tinged experimental indie, psychedelic jams, crisp country ballads, and anything in between with ease. They are incapable of doing wrong because their eclectic and masterful sound is tethered by Jim James expansive vocals.
What better place to experience the voice of a bearded Kentucky angel than the majestic splendor of Red Rocks Amphitheatre? A geological anomaly of sandstone projecting from the foothills of the Rockies creates one of the best, most natural acoustic environments on the planet. The acoustics are preserved by massive “Ship Rock” at the back of the venue and “Creation Rock” to the side, all while the bands performance emanates from another, smaller sandstone monolith behind the stage. The scenic beauty and acoustic perfection are accented by sweeping views of the park and greater Denver on the horizon. MMJ’s performance was further supplemented with a sustained, cool mountain gust for 3/4 of the show and a heat lightning storm in the distance.
OK, now that I got all this talk about powerful rock bands and acoustically perfect venues out of the way, there were some serious sound issues for the first half of the show. This would have been a large let-down considering the excitement of seeing a band that sounds like MMJ in a venue like that, but the overwhelming grandeur of the experience prevailed. It seemed, at times, I could hear the band playing through their onstage rigging while the large PA system cut in and out. The discrepancy between the volumes was irritating. The acoustic and quieter songs came off without a hitch, but the larger songs with effects like distortion and reverb were marred. I chalk this up to electrical problems, human error, or the relatively strong breeze during most of the show. Somewhere past the halfway point the PA system took over with crushing volume. The earlier patchy sounds were gone and the amphitheatre was filled with rock (no pun intended) the way I anticipated.
Jim James and company brought a big setlist with new stuff like the rousing “Victory Dance” as an opener as well as “Circuital” and “Out of My System.” They played a good mix of classics including “Golden,” “Magheetah” (the only song in the second half with a sound issue. For about 20 seconds there was this god-awful sound of which I could not determine the origin that was louder than the instruments ), and they even brought out a rarity in “The Bear.” The highlight was a magnificent, 20 minute extendo-jam of “Dondante,” a swirling and chaotic “Run Thru / Strangulation” and a crushing encore that included a huge “Wordless Chorus,” “Holdin’ on to Black Metal,” “Anytime,” and “One Big Holiday”
On albums, MMJ is taking on a more mature singer / songwriter approach to music as opposed to the big alt-rock jam sound of the past. Catching them live brings the best of both worlds.
Following my recent enchantment with Skysaw’s Great Civilizations and subsequent interview with Jimmy Chamberlin and Mike Reina I was itching to hear this band live. It was odd to see Jimmy’s trademark drum kit positioned in the area of the opening band with Minus the Bear’s kit behind it on a riser, but that unique tom tom set up had me giddy nonetheless.
NOTE: Jimmy had his yellow Yamaha kit set up with tape covering the logo presumably because he is now a dw guy.
As they lit in to “No One Can Tell” there came that wondrous thundering lilt that I missed so much on one of my last visits to The Ritz for the Pumpkins club tour. Mike Byrne is fantastic, but I just have an affinity for Chamberlin’s style; a style that I routinely alluded to as pummeling in the interview without focusing on the other side of the coin in the light, brisk, nuanced delicacy that completes his sound.
The crowd was surely there for MTB and I overheard some of the younger whippersnappers trying to figure out who Jimmy Chamberlin was. “You know, I think he was the drummer for the Smashing Pumpkins before.” This nearly made me break into my 3 Stooges Moe Howard impression, “Why I oughtta” and smack all the 3 hipsters in succession with one brisk stroke.
The turnout for this show was not nearly the Chinese fire drill that showed up for MTB at Firestone for Anti*Pop 2009. Skysaw had a smaller audience to work with. They pulled off the equally beautiful and bombastic “Capsized Jackknifed Crisis” smoothly as Jimmy’s drum work piqued some of the listeners’ interest. The band seemed to tighten as the show went on. The crowd appeared divided as some were already fans or had paid enough attention to dig it. Others continued conversation, not ready for the slightly head-y or prog type vibe of the Eno meets early Genesis sound Skysaw sometimes evokes. The sweet and soft “Tightrope Situation” was nearly drowned out by audience chatter.
Some jerks were even screaming, “last song please!” and “no more!” The odd thing is that this all changed by the last few songs. Honestly, even though I enjoyed the thoughtful presentation of music, I was kind of missing the wide open rock frenzy that I’m used to seeing JC orchestrate. Skysaw really lit it up live, but it was more subtle than the Pumpkins’ histrionic flair. Then they ended with the unreleased “Cathedral” and unleashed a can of whoop ass on everyone’s face. The once lackluster crowd filled in the floor of the venue; the talking turned to howling and screaming, and Chamberlin dropped a crushing solo within a psychedelic jam that allowed Anthony Pirog to open up the rock guitar a little bit more with some face melting antics.
Release the Kraken!:
The bruising ending to “Cathedral” snapped the audience in line. The almost silent greeting Jimmy got as the last one to come on stage was contrasted by the raucous cheers of the final ovation as he exited. I swear the same people I heard complaining were the same ones stupefied at the end. “Last song please” turned into, “Whooo, Yeah!” “That’s how it’s done!” “Jimmy!” And “Ho-lee shit!” I think the last one was me.
Door times for this show were pushed back because of the big Latin festival, Calle Orange, in downtown Orlando. So I go there about an hour early (Doors moved from 7pm to 9:30 pm) and had the great fortune to witness blocked city streets with piles of refuse and several drunken fights, bum fights, AND drunken bum fights. I may have missed AMC’s Walking Dead last night, but I got the chance to actually live it for a moment!
Grunge-y noise rocksters (I love that I just make up words), Yuck, stopped by The Social last night to lay down a wall of fuzzy pop distortion. One indicator of a good songwriting is to develop a signature sound while simultaneously creating catchy songs with great hooks that have instantly recognizable melodies on their own. Yuck is a able to construct relevant indie rock songs like this under the retro blanket of early 90′s grunge influence.
I wouldn’t flinch if some governing body deemed My Morning Jacket the best live rock band in music right now – not a bit. The band is tight and rocks the fuck out – capable of cranking out pop rockers, electronica-tinged experimental indie, psychedelic jams, crisp country ballads, and anything in between with ease. They are incapable of doing wrong because their eclectic and masterful sound is tethered by Jim James expansive vocals.
OK, now that I got all this talk about powerful rock bands and acoustically perfect venues out of the way, there were some serious sound issues for the first half of the show. This would have been a large let-down considering the excitement of seeing a band that sounds like 
Following my recent enchantment with Skysaw’s Great Civilizations and subsequent 
The turnout for this show was not nearly the Chinese fire drill that showed up for 
Some jerks were even screaming, “last song please!” and “no more!” The odd thing is that this all changed by the last few songs. Honestly, even though I enjoyed the thoughtful presentation of music, I was kind of missing the wide open rock frenzy that I’m used to seeing JC orchestrate. Skysaw really lit it up live, but it was more subtle than the Pumpkins’ histrionic flair. Then they ended with the unreleased “Cathedral” and unleashed a can of whoop ass on everyone’s face. The once lackluster crowd filled in the floor of the venue; the talking turned to howling and screaming, and Chamberlin dropped a crushing solo within a psychedelic jam that allowed Anthony Pirog to open up the rock guitar a little bit more with some face melting antics.