Refused was a short-lived Swedish band of incredible talent. Their penchant for blending scream-o punk with heavy metal and dashes of electronica and alt rock was progressive and unmatched in the mid to late 90s. Fourteen years after calling it quits in the midst of a nightmarish tour for The Shape of Punk to Come, the band stood onstage in the city where they ended it all. It was prior to their 1998 gig in Atlanta that they decided to disband and declared, “Refused Are Fucking Dead.”
The irony was staggering as they kicked off the brief US leg of their reunion tour and so was the performance. Refused absolutely killed. Music that relies heavily on the combination of emotional intensity and machine-like precision was firing on all cylinders. Refused was loud. Singer, Dennis Lyxzen, – dressed to the nines – screamed and howled like Iggy Pop and strutted like Mick Jagger. Drummer, David Sandstrom, is a god-dammed force of nature and drove the show with a punk-y jazz-metal brilliance. The band was tight although the set was short at one hour and fifteen minutes, but hey – what more do you want from a bunch of communists?
Concert Video from the Refused Show:
Possibly my favorite song, “Hook, Line, and Sinker”:
Aaron’s Amphitheater formerly Hi-Fi Buys, formerly Lakewood hosted some sort of metal festival, but alls I knows is Slayer, Anthrax and Motorhead played.
Anthrax again got a much lower slot on the totem pole than deserved. This is Anthrax with fucking Belladonna! They headlined the smaller Jagermeister stage and summarily kicked ass with the less than generous 40 minute set they were given.
Motorhead is, well, fucking Motorhead and it was cool to see Lemmy scream up into the high perch of his signature mic stand.
SLAYER! Have you ever noticed how no one can just say “Slayer.” It’s always “SLAYER!!” And more often its, “FUCKING SLAYER!!” There is a reason these grandaddy’s of metal evoke such a strong response. They eviscerate. Even without Jeff Hanneman – the ying to Kerry King’s yang – they were fast, precise, and raging stealing the show as they always do. Hanneman, who is recovering from a spider bite that caused a rare flesh eating condition called necrotising fasciitis, which almost resulted in the amputation of his hand, was replaced by Exodus guitarist, Gary Holt. How fucking metal is that? A flesh eating disease that eats the skin, muscle, and fat from the inside and caused by a spider bite! Look for the song, “Spiderbite” on Slayer’s new album, Necrotising Fasciitis this Fall.
Best Coast kicked off their tour in support of their new album, The Only Place, here on the east coast at The Social in Orlando, Florida. Touring as a 4-piece, Bethany Cosentino and crew cranked up the volume adding a pair of swinging balls to their sundrenched 60s inspired AM radio pop. I’m hung up on how many people are actually in the band when an indie buzz band shows up in town because all too often it’s a 2-piece and the second piece is usually a laptop. I’m so tired of that! Well Best Coast rocked it impressively.
One of the the night’s highlights which included impromptu requests from the crowd and a Fleetwood Mac cover was chosen. It was followed by one of the best songs on the new album, “Do You Love Me Like You Used To”
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).
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:
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.