Spark & Whisper At The 142 Throckmorton

According to researchers Stephen Bank and Michael Kahn, siblings are the central molding factor involved in the development of one's personality, more so even than that of parental influence. Their view is that "brothers and sisters, whether the relationship has been contentious or calm, satisfying or frustrating, filled with conflict or deeply comforting, can provide the touchstones and templates which mold each other’s lives."

As evidence, I offer my kid sister, with whom I haven't shared a roof since at least 1974, and who now lives on the opposite side of the great North American continent from me, apparently in a house full of children and living a life that really couldn't be more different than mine.  Since the templates that mold our lives work at a subconscious level, I can't say if I impacted her or she I, or if we both molded each other, but sometime around the turn of the Millennium and totally independent of each another, we both became Buddhists at about the same time, even though there were no Buddhist influences in our upbringing.  Could it have been that old copy of Motorcycle Maintenance I left laying around the house, or were we both left wanting the same thing that Eastern wisdom can provide?

As further evidence of our mutual templates, here are some videos of her Marin County friends, the fine folk duo of Spark & Whisper, that she emailed me this week

Witchi Tai To

Here's one of my favorite bands, London's Fanfarlo, covering one of my favorite songs from the late 60s, Jim Peppers' Witchi Tai To.

Basia Bulat, Eddie's Attic, Decatur, Georgia, November 13, 2013

According to a preview in The New Yorker magazine:

The twenty-nine-year-old Canadian singer-songwriter Basia Bulat plays the Autoharp, the piano, the violin, and a variety of other instruments, but she can make remarkable music without any of them. Bulat has a singular voice, with a confident yet vulnerable tone, and she sings with an impassioned yearning that suggests the vast wilderness of her homeland. She’s been nominated for a Juno Award and short-listed for the Polaris Music Prize, and her third album, Tall Tall Shadow, recently released, shows her maturing as a songwriter. Bulat is touring the States, and is at the Bowery Ballroom on Nov. 23, with backing musicians—not that she really needs them.

She also appeared at Eddie's Attic in Decatur, Georgia last night.  But first, Nashville's Foreign Fields opened.

Foreign Fields are the duo of Eric Hillman and Brian Holl, originally from Wisconsin.  They both play electric guitar and both sing and sing well, but the magic in their music is their almost telepathic harmonies and the soothing gentleness of their songs.

Comparisons to Bon Iver are inevitable, but one can also hear influences or at least similarities to bands as diverse as Grizzly Bear, Gem Club, The Album Leaf, and Fleet Foxes.  I had never heard them, or heard of them, before last evening, but they were a most pleasant discovery, and gently eased the audience into a receptive mood for Basia Bulat's set that followed.  They were, quite simply, marvelous. 

We saw Toronto's Basia Bulat earlier this year opening for Pickwick at The Earl, and were charmed by her voice, her musicianship, and her adorable stage presence.  Eddie's Attic is a little off the beaten track for me, and not my favorite place to hear music due to all it's rules and required seating at tables, but not only was this show worth it, it might have been the perfect venue for both of these bands.  I'd rather get a lecture about not talking during the performance before a Basia Bulat set at Eddie's Attic than forego the lecture at The Earl but have to contend with all the chatter and socializing from the noisy patrons at the bar.

But anyway, last night was only her second appearance in Atlanta, and this time Basia was backed by a drummer and bass for much of her set (she performed solo when she opened for Pickwick). 

“Ms. Bulat’s voice is rich and nuanced," says the New York Times, "and her songs are as sophisticated as they are charming."  I would have to agree.  

Basia’s third album, Tall Tall Shadow, was released on October 1 and was co-produced with Tim Kingsbury of Arcade Fire and Mark Lawson, the engineer for The Suburbs. Basia has said, “This time around, I felt braver—I wanted to play with exploring the boundaries of the folk music some people know me for.”  In this regard, she reminds me of Sharon Van Etten, another singer-songwriter who's gaining confidence and bravery with each successive release and expanding her boundaries beyond the niche in which she started. 

Comparisons to early Joni Mitchell are inevitable and not unflattering, but Basia has moved far beyond the folk of Blue and Court & Spark.  You can hear a recapitulaton of her sound in her song Tall Tall Shadow, that starts in Mitchell territory with Basia solo on keyboards, but as the band starts to fill in, Basia's voice acquires that "impassioned yearning" referred to by The New Yorker, before soaring into the song's climax and moving into Van Ettten indie-rock territory.  

During the course of her set last night, she played guitar, 10-string mandolin, autoharp, and keyboards, and played them all well.  For her encore, she played a hammered dulcimer, and the middle segment of her set had her on stage alone, without the band.  Whatever context she found herself in, whatever instrument found its way into her hands, she played with honesty, emotion, and charm, and warmed the hearts of everybody in the Attic last night.    

A Children's Treasury of The Head & The Heart Pictures, Buckhead Theater, Atlanta, 11-12-13

The current Head & The Heart tour with Thao & The Get Down Stay Down reached Atlanta's Buckhead Theater last night.  Quiet Life opened.

Not to imply any disrespect, but I don't have much time to comment on the show in any great detail today. So instead, here are some pictures and I'll just shut my mouth for once.

QUIET LIFE

THAO & THE GET DOWN STAY DOWN

THE HEAD & THE HEART

Best New Artist of 2014

You heard it here first: London's Hilang Child will be your favorite new artist of 2014.  The video for his song Chaturanga has been released, and while it wasn't at all what I had expected, I have to admit it fits the song damn near perfectly.

Here's hoping that 2014 includes a U.S. tour for Hilang Child, hopefully with a stop in Atlanta.

Fruit Bats

Fruit Bats at Bumbershoot 2012

Sad news (not Yellow Dogs sad, but still sad).  From Brooklyn Vegan:

"Hey All. So, after 13 years, 5 albums, bunch of tours, and lots of laughs, Fruit Bats is calling it a day. There is no major or dramatic reason - I'm not gonna launch into one of those "the changing face of the music landscape in the digital age," things. Especially since I don't even understand any of that stuff. It's been a long run and time for a change. I've been fortunate enough to start scoring movies and producing bands and I'm super excited to continue on with that. Plus I'll still write songs and make records and play shows, which will scratch any Fruit Bats itch that you've got. I mean, Fruit Bats has always ostensibly been a "solo" project, so this is just the start of chapter two, really... But anyway, new music from me still! More on that soon, so please don't lose touch. This means that these shows next week will be our last (though I think we might plan some kinda epic last gig in Chicago one of these days, but that is to be determined)... So come on out and blow us a kiss goodbye. I know artists always say this but, seriously, thanks for listening, it has been amazing sharing this stuff with you. More to come (from a different angle) soon." - Eric D. Johnson

Eric D. Johnson was the musician kind enough to give me one of his extra beers at the Marmoset party during MFNW.  Here's wishing him the best in his new solo career. 

Eric D Johnson at Marmoset, MFNW 2013

MFNW Day Five Retrospective

Perhaps my only regret about Saturday, Day 5 of MFNW, was that while dressing in the morning I decided for some reason to wear the "I Smell Hippies" t-shirt that I had bought at a T. Hardy Morris concert at The Earl. The sun had finally come out, the first sunny day since I had left Seattle, warming the day up to the point where one could wear a simple t-shirt all day and still be comfortable, and I thought it would be fun to wear a "I Smell Hippies" t-shirt in Portland.  However, the statement was largely misunderstood by the good Portlanders - I got stares of disapproval from a lot of older, presumably former hippies, curious looks from a lot of young people, and hearty approval from Republican creeps and frat boys I didn't want to have anything to do with.  I wound up having to explain myself a lot that day, and worked out a standard reply to the question I kept getting, "So what do hippies smell like?" that went "Oh, you know, bodies, patchouli, and, um, weed - all the things I like."  That seemed to throw people off the trail enough for me to get on with my day.

Anyway, like the previous several days, Day 5, Saturday, started at The Doug Fir, this time with a noon-time set by New Jersey's Titus Andronicus.  Wearing his own band's t-shirt, frontman Patrick Stickles had perhaps the best line of the day, "I didn't start a punk-rock band because I wanted to have places to be at 11:00 in the morning."  It was perhaps fortunate for him (or maybe for us) that the 10:30 am sessions of the previous days weren't held Saturday morning.

KEXP had several other good sets scheduled for the day (The Dodos, The Thermals, and Sonny & The Sunsets), but I skipped those and went to the Oregon Public Broadcasting (OPB) party at Mississippi Studios in NE Portland instead.  Like the totally awesome Marmoset party of Day 3, free beer and music were provided to the attendees, this time by OPB as their way of saying "thank you" to their supporters.  

When I got there, Portland's The Parson Redheads were playing out on the patio.   We've seen The Parson Parson Redheads before, opening at The Earl for Viva Voce, and as I hadn't heard anything from them since, it was nice to be reminded that they were still around.

The next band up was Portland's soul-punk outfit Magic Mouth, playing inside Mississippi Studios and fronted by singer Chanticleer Tru.  I didn't get any good pictures of the set, but found this one by the magic of Google's image search.  I posted an OPB video of the Magic Mouth set here on this blog last September; a sample song is posted below.

Tru is a pretty interesting dude.  In addition to fronting Magic Mouth, during Portland's Time-Based Art festival he was also co-host of a "post-realness drag ball" called Critical Mascara, part drag ball and competition, part dance party and performance spectacle. "Want to flaunt your highest glamour?" the web site asks, "Turn tragic into magic? Celebrate the evolution of queer consciousness? Are you hungry to prance, vogue, dance and shimmer? Wanna chance at a cash prize? Win spectacular gifts made by local artists? Want to step into the spotlight at an international arts festival and SHINE?"

"Be you boy, girl, queen, princess, nancy, goblin, unicorn, femme, butch, dandy, fae or the hottest slice of tail since the fall of the Roman Empire YOU ARE INVITED!"

Alas, I was already back home when Critical Mascara was held, so that's why you didn't hear about me winning.

Anyway, after Magic Mouth, the band Tiburones featuring Luz Elena Mendoza of Y La Bamba took over the patio.

At the OPB party, I ran into some of the people that I had met at the Marmoset party, including an older couple who had invited me to their home for dinner, wine, and music at Marmoset but seemed very disappointed by my t-shirt at OPB. I also met one half of the environmentally-conscious gay couple from Marmoset, who told me at OPB that his parents were in town meeting his fiancee.  It wasn't until several days later that I realized that doesn't necessarily mean anymore that he wasn't gay.

The main event of the OPB party was the set inside Mississippi Studios by Radiation City.  Ironically, or maybe not ironically, Radiation City was also one of the highlights of the Marmoset party.  

OPB has posted videos of the entire Radiation City set on their website.  Here's a taste (as if you needed any more incentive to go take a listen):

I love this band, even if they do still remind me of the Scooby-Doo gang.  In fact, maybe I love them because they remind me of the Scooby-Doo gang.

The OPB party wrapped up after the Radiation City set, and I went "home" (hotel) to get cleaned up and refreshed for the rest of the day.  However, a funny thing happened to me on my way to Pioneer Courthouse Square (Portland's Living Room).  I told part of this story on Facebook, but held the full story back since some of my Facebook friends wouldn't have understood.  I stopped at the Sizzle Pie next to Powell's bookstore for two slices of pizza, and the cashier looked a little skeptical and told me that the second slice was on the house because I might not like my order number.  He showed me the slip, and it said "666."  

I did the only thing I could think of, and threw my fist up, my fingers in devil horns, and said, "Hail Satan." The cashier laughed and did the same, and everyone else behind the counter thought it was so funny that when my order was ready and I came back up to the counter, everybody shouted, "Hail Satan!"

So basically, the devil got me a free slice of pizza.  Hail Satan!

Meanwhile, back at Pioneer Courthouse Square, someone was sitting in my usual spot way in the back of the square by the food and beer vendors, so instead I moseyed into the small crowd in front of the stage and wound up getting not only a much better view, but much more immersion in the experience of Deep Sea Diver, Jessica Dobson's (The Shins) solo project. 

I was only two rows of people back from the stage, and I could swear that at one point of the show, Jessica saw the "I Smell Hippies" on my t-shirt and broke into a big old grin.

Following Deep Sea Diver, we saw Thao & The Get Down Stay Down for, like, the third time in a week, but each time was just as good as the one before.  I did get to wondering, though, how many shows I'd have to attend before they took out a restraining order against me.

The headliners at Pioneer Courthouse Square that night were Seattle's The Head and The Heart.  We've seen THATH a couple times before, once with Thao at Variety Playhouse in 2011 (they seem to like to tour with Thao, or vice-versa), and again at Athens' 40-Watt Club in 2012.

THATH are touring in support of their new album, Let's Be Still, but the audience was about 10 times more responsive to the older songs from their debut, eponymous album than the new songs.  I've been listening to the new album a lot to familiarize myself with the songs (they're coming to Atlanta next week with Thao), but can't say that I don't still prefer the older songs.

From Pioneer Courthouse Square it was a short walk to The Roseland Theater for a magnificent, mind-blowing, single-song performance by Godspeed You! Black Emperor.  As spectacular as their playing was, however, it may be the black-and-white video show projected behind the band that I'll always remember, or the slow, patient build up to their composition's climactic conclusion.  

It wasn't as easy to get from The Roseland Theater to my next destination, The Bunk Bar, as it was to get to Roseland from Pioneer Courthouse Square, but I did manage to catch a bus that got me to within a half-mile of the bar, and I had to take a late night walk for the remaining distance through a desolate but spooky warehouse district.

When I got there, it was after midnight and the Brooklyn band Love as Laughter were on stage.  The place was packed (note the fans outside watching in through the windows), but I managed to find an empty barstool to watch from for at least a little while.

The problem with the barstool was that no matter how I sat, my knees stuck out into the narrow space between the bar and the crowd, in the way of everybody trying to get to and from the bathrooms. So despite the comfort of taking my weight off my feet for a while, after Love As Laughter, I found a spot to stand near the stage was watched Sonny and the Sunsets tear the place up, playing their strange garage-rock/freak-folk hybrid to the dancing audience well into Sunday morning.

After the show, as I left The Bunk Bar to head home, a young woman dressed for some reason in some sort of Little Bo Beep outfit (don't ask me why - it was well over a month until Halloween) stopped me and asked me who T Hardy Morris was and why it was that I smelled hippies (oh, right, I had almost forgot the t-shirt).  We talked for a while, and I tried to describe Morris, his band Dead Confederate, Cabbagetown, and the Atlanta music scene.  She liked the name "Cabbagetown," and when she came to realize that I wasn't a completely intolerant redneck, she let me go with a kiss on the cheek, got on her bicycle, and rode off into the Oregon night.  

It took me well over a half hour to walk back across the Willamette River and back to my hotel on the far side of town, and it wasn't until about 3 am that I was able to finally get my tired ass between some sheets and my face onto a pillow.

So that was Day 5.  I posted a review of the day the following Sunday when my recollections were still fresher than they are now, and any discrepancies between the two accounts are probably due to the fogs of time and memory.   Also, additional pictures are posted over on the Flickr site.