www.JAIMEVILLE.com

Show Review: Stevie Nicks at the Chaifetz Arena, Friday, June 13, St. Louis, MO
Sat Jun 14, 2008 at 11:30:08 AM

I’m just going to come right out and say it: Stevie Nicks must have a magical coochie. That’s all I could think about last night while watching her perform at the new Chaifetz Arena. That isn’t to discredit her ample musical talent, but her feminine gravitational pull is apparent, even in a large music venue. She’s got that something. And whatever it is, it’s magnetic and irresistible.

Over the years her lady parts have served her well: the source of most of her song writing material has come from her love affairs. Most of these episodes were well documented, even in the pre-paparazzi days of 1970s celebrity. Successful rock-and-rollers lined up around the block back in the day for a crack at Miss Nicks. She supposedly gave quite a few of them a spin, from Don Henley to Mick Fleetwood to Jimmy Iovine, and her long relationship with uber-sexy band mate Lindsey Buckingham was a main topic in Rumours, the classic Fleetwood Mac album.

Even now, at the age that most people retire, Nicks still knows how to work it. She’s still all high-heeled platform boots, gothic Lolita dresses, long blond mane and sparking shawls. Her static, uncompromising image is shockingly stubborn. Imagine a ’70s punk who still sports a mohawk as an old man on the golf course. Still, Nick’s image doesn’t feel contrived- it’s just as if she found a good thing an stuck with it.

And the fans? They love it. When she opened with “Stand Back” one would have never known that the arena was only about half full, as every older lady in the place got up out of her seat and cheered while mentally reliving her glory days.

What followed was a string of hits (including “Dreams,” “Rhiannon,” “If Anyone Falls in Love,” “Sorcerer,” Gold Dust Woman” and “Landslide”) and a couple of surprising covers (Bob Seger’s “Face the Promise” and a torturous version of Dave Matthews Band’s “Crash”).

To her credit, Nicks basically excused these covers by explaining that she and her band need to do something fun every now and then. By “fun,” I’m guessing she means “sing a song that I haven’t already sang 873,421 times in my life.” It’s cool. She’s forgiven for that. She is still under the gun, however, for one part in her stage show.

There was a huge video screen behind the stage that showed mostly innocuous, appropriate swirling art (a rain shot during “Dreams,” a yellow haze during “Gold Dust Woman,” etc.) but during “Rhiannon” it featured a pair of cheesy white unicorns frolicking in the freaking forest. I shit you not. It was distracting and I laughed for nearly the whole song with sympathetic embarrassment for everyone on that stage. Lest you think I am a cynical party-pooper, those unicorns garnered snickers from quite a few people near me and pretty much ruined the song for us all. Lose the unicorns, Stevie, that’s pushing the “mystical” and “enchanting” thing just a little too far.

This was the first “rock concert” hosted at the Chaifetz, and aside from the poor attendance (due, no doubt, to the high ticket cost), the management can certainly call it a success. The place is much smaller than an average arena, creating a cozy feeling even at a big show. It’s a clean white space accented with SLU blue, but it doesn’t feel cold, just new. There were helpful ushers, food and drink and a kind employee even offered to escort me to my car. Yes, the parking situation is kind of wack, but you’ve dealt with worse. There’s just nowhere to park that feels close. I paid $10 and went for the SLU garage. It was a bit of a hike from the garage to the arena, but it’s nice scenery with small ponds, bridges and sports fields to watch along the way.

• article - link

RFT Music Awards Nominees: St. Louis’ Best and Brightest
Published on May 28, 2008

Please follow this link to read about the nominees listed below.

Best Americana/Folk - Rum Drum Ramblers
Best Untraditional Americana/Folk - Rats & People
Best Funk/Soul/R&B - Kim Massie
Best Hard Rock/Metal - Head On Collision
Best Local Release (self-released) -
Rats & People’s The City of Passersby
Best New Artist - The Livers + Wooden Kites
Best Pop Band - Sex Robots
Best Punk/Hardcore - The Humanoids

• article - link
• Head On Collision - MySpace
• Humanoids - MySpace
• The Livers - MySpace
• Kim Massie - website
• Rats & People - MySpace
• Rum Drum Ramblers - MySpace
• Sex Robots - MySpace
• Wooden Kites - MySpace

Concert Review: The Breeders in St. Louis
Saturday, May 10, 2008 - Pop’s

(Photos by Sarah Paradoski; setlist by RØB Severson, review by Jaime Lees)

It used to take a lot for me to drag my ass to the East Side. But after last weekend, good ol’ Sauget, Illinois, might be one of my favorite places to hang out or see a show. Saturday the Breeders played Pop’s, and the whole experience was just so damn pleasant. One would never know they were mere yards from the terrifying, toothless tranny hookers that congregate just on the other side of Route 3.

Before the show I was disappointed to hear that Pop’s was going to close off half of the venue (something the venue does at certain shows), but when everyone made it inside, it was clear that this was the right decision. Floor space was tight, but not smashed and the balcony was cozy.

Sure, drinks are always more expensive on that side of the Big Muddy, but the staff was helpful and laid back, showing no signs of the aggro tendencies I’ve witnessed there during other shows. The staff seemed to recognize that this was a show for sleepy indie folks and acted accordingly. I asked a bartender if he caught the sound check and he said, “I didn’t. And you know, I don’t know anything about the band. But I’ll tell you what: those sure are some nice people. Great smiles, too.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Watching the band is like catching up with old friends. Older songs (”I Just Wanna Get Along,” “Divine Hammer”) induced much heart-swelling and the newer songs from latest album Mountain Battles (”German Studies,” “It’s The Love”) blended perfectly into these live sets. On stage, Jose Medeles and Mando Lopez, also of pumped-up punkers Fear, kept the rhythm section bumpin’ and thumpin’ while remaining mostly heard and not seen. New kid Cheryl Lindsay hopped in where needed with extra vocals and instrumentation, and mostly stood calm and still on the side of the stage.

Predictably, Kim and Kelley Deal (and their mega-watt smiles) took center-stage. Both seemed at ease, happy and comfortable with the audience, sharing jokes and answering questions. In addition to Breeders jams, the Deals sang quite a few songs by the Amps (including “Empty Glasses,” a rarity), Kim’s other band. Kelley graciously stepped into the wings when she wasn’t needed during Amps songs, but could still be seen through a rip in the stage curtain rocking out and enthusiastically singing along as if she was a mega-fan.

1. Tipp City (Amps song)
2. Huffer
3. Bang On
4. Shocker in Gloomtown (Guided By Voices cover)
5. Divine Hammer
6. Night Of Joy
7. No Aloha
8. Pacer (Amps song)
9. We’re Gonna Rise
10. It’s The Love
11. Walk It Off
12. New Year
13. Cannonball
14. I Just Wanna Get Along
15. Happiness Is A Warm Gun (Beatles cover)
16. Iris
17. Safari
18. German Studies
19. Empty Glasses (Amps song)

ENCORE:
20. Overglazed
21. Fortunately Gone
22. Here No More
23. Saints

• article - link
• The Breeders - website

She’s Crafty: The Breeders’ Kelley Deal talks knitting, nudity and Steve Albini’s bodily functions
By Jaime Lees
Published on May 07, 2008

Kelley Deal co-leads the Breeders with her sister Kim, who’s best known for being a member of the Pixies (and later, the Amps). The Dayton, Ohio, quartet first found fame in the early ’90s with songs such as “Cannonball” and “Divine Hammer” and is in the midst of a most welcome comeback thanks to a new album, Mountain Battles.

Its first release since 2002’s Title TK, Battles displays all of the familiar Breeders qualities — i.e., sugary vocals and inventive songwriting — while highlighting genre experimentation and improved instrumentation. Written and recorded over years with quite a few influences (most notably, engineer Steve Albini), Battles is an album that becomes more accessible with each spin, as its dazzling subtleties grow more prominent.

The sisters’ voices together are as striking as ever, producing Phil Spector-worthy harmonies that sound angelic in any language. (No, really: The Deals sing one song in Spanish and another in German.) Other album highlights include “Here No More,” a simple, prairie-style folk song and “We’re Gonna Rise,” which is a shifting and hopeful ballad. “It’s the Love” sounds the most like a classic Breeders pop tune, and seems to be a crowd favorite.

We caught up with Kelley last week while she was on a tour stop in Las Vegas.

Jaime Lees: Tell me about when you were recording your album. I love Steve Albini and obviously you like him, ’cause this is the third Breeders album you did with him.

Kelley Deal: Well, here’s the thing: We did not do that much of this record with him. But people read his name and just go [with it] because he’s such an interesting character, and he has such an interesting history with the Breeders. The thing is, on the album credits, we don’t go through everything, ’cause we went to a lot of places and worked with several different people.

The guy we worked with most on this record? His name is Manny Nieto. We met him in East Los Angeles. He had a studio there and his people call him “Albiner” ’cause he’s a huge Albini fan. He knows Steve, he talks to Steve. Now, we did go to Albini’s and we recorded. “Here No More” and “Walk it Off” were recorded and mixed by Steve. He recorded “Overglazed” and “It’s the Love” and he mixed “Regalame Esta Noche” and he did some other stuff. But “Overglazed” was mixed by Manny, “Bang On” was recorded and mixed by Manny. “German Studies” was recorded and mixed by Manny. So he actually did most of the work.

And there’s this other woman, her name is Erika Larson, she recorded “We’re Gonna Rise” and “Regalame Esta Noche.” But it’s interesting, I’ve noticed when I talk to people they say, “So you worked with Steve Albini again on the record.” And I explain it, but a lot of times they just say “worked with Steve Albini” and I don’t blame them, ’cause Steve Albini is a freak, basically. He’s a wonderful character to talk about.

Yeah! I always wanna know if he’s as serious as he leads on. I’ll watch him in interviews, and he’s just so serious.

Oh, totally. You know, in the middle of a serious discussion, he’ll lean over a cheek and fart without blinking an eye. And it’s not like he’s doing it to get a reaction, and it’s not like this huge stinky thing. [He'll say] something about, “It’s a natural bodily function.” He’s just gonna give it a poot! If you did the same thing, he wouldn’t blink an eye. He’s just the weirdest guy. He’s so smart, too. He’s so smart it’s weird.

All of the records he makes always sound really good in my car. Does that make any sense?

Absolutely! That’s the mark of a great engineer.

OK, so, tell me about your knitting book. [the forthcoming Bags that Rock: Knitting on the Road with Kelley Deal]

[Laughs] Yes, you know, I like to knit. I did an interview with somebody in San Francisco, and when we got there I saw the interview [in print] and the caption said “Kelley Deal knits up a new record.” And I started blushing. ‘Cause, you know, it’s so uncool. But on the other hand I’m like, fuck that, man. I’m not gonna be embarrassed by it. You know, I’m gonna let my freak flag fly. You know, I like to knit, fuck everybody else. But just the word “craft.” “I craft.” It’s so lame. But anyway, yes, I like to knit. And I have a book coming out in October. Enough said about that.

What else are you doing on tour to just, like, chill?

Let’s see, what else are we doing on tour? What do I like to do? You know, I do a lot of reading. When you’re on a bus with a lot of people, when you get some time, you kind of just want to have “me time,” whatever that is. Also, I’m in Las Vegas, I’d really like to hit up a meeting, as they say. A twelve-step meeting. I’ve been to a meeting before here in Vegas, and there’s nothing cooler than that, go to an AA meeting in Vegas. You can bet it’s raw, you know? [Laughs] Like, “Oh, look at that guy. He sold his car. He gave his baby away.” But I want to go, even though I feel like I’m just an observer. I mean, and I need to go, I think it’s a good idea.

I think it’s great that you talk about stuff like that.

I never… everything is kind of open, it’s all up for grabs. I’m totally, I’m so Midwest, you know? Like, Chatty Cathy. I don’t feel like people hold back or, like [whispers], can’t ask me something because it’s inappropriate.

I’m glad the tour is going well. When I saw you guys in Austin in March you seemed kind of nervous. Oh man, but the audience was freaking out. They were really stoked to see you.

Oh good. Damn! Good! You know when we play the new songs, people love ‘em. They fit right in. It’s not like people are just sitting there looking at us.

So you’re gonna come here to St. Louis. Do you know about the place you’re playing? It’s kind of like that place you’d go to see a Journey cover band.

Ha! The place that we’re playing there? Really? Oh God, I hate when you tell me shit like that, it’s so weird!

No, it’s a fun place, but it’s in East St. Louis, and it’s sort of like, you have to stay on that street or you die.

[Laughs]

So don’t go roamin’ around there.

OK. I mean, will people not come because of the location?

No, you can totally go there, you just have to go straight there and then leave. Its like, in the middle of a couple of strip clubs.

I can take my clothes off, that’s what you’re saying?

Well, uh, next door at least. Or, uh, probably there, too. It’s your show.

I’ll just take ‘em off there, too.

8 p.m. Saturday, May 10. Pop’s, 1403 Mississippi Avenue, Sauget, Illinois. $17 in advance, $18 at the door. 618-274-6720.

• article - link
• interview outtakes - link
• The Breeders - website
• The Breeders - MySpace
• photo credit - Chris Glass

Using Their Illusion: Ferocious — and funny — locals the Livers hope video builds the radio star
By Jaime Lees
Published: April 23, 2008
9 p.m. Friday, April 25. The Bluebird, 2706 Olive Street. $7 21-plus, $10 under 21. No phone.www.myspace.com/bluebirdstl.

BFFs Scot Freeman and Luke Roulston hit a rough patch last year. Mired in typical twentysomething malaise, they found themselves working too hard, drinking too much and continually complaining about their lack of a creative outlet. Both were seasoned musicians who admired each other’s skills and former bands (Freeman’s Chiaroscuro and Roulston’s Poe’s Music for Weirdos), and so as an extension of their bromance, these multi-instrumentalists decided to quit their bitching and put together a new band.

There was just one problem: They only wanted to play with each other.

Freeman and Roulston began trying to find a way to multiply their sound without adding any extra people. They jokingly wished they could form a band with clones of themselves to fill out the empty instrument positions. As the story goes, one day Roulston said, “What if we just did that?” And so after considerable preparation and months of trial and error, they managed to invent something brand new: a four-person rock band with just two band members.

This is accomplished by both Livers playing guitar in front of a prerecorded video of themselves as the rhythm section (with Roulston on bass and Freeman on drums). But the virtual band members don’t just play, they also have names (Karl and Merl), distinctive personalities and sassy attitudes. Through the magic of painstaking video editing and green-screen wizardry, all four band members have the ability to interact with each other. (In fact, the video Livers frequently talk back to the live Livers.)

This elaborate presentation is helped along by Zak Thenhaus, the unofficial third (fifth?) Liver. Similar to the Wizard of Oz, Thenhaus fills the role of the unseen magical man behind the curtain (or video screen) who assists the real-life Livers in their video interactions, largely by handing them props. Between songs every last Liver gets to catch a break as hilarious commercial-like clips — such as a Laverne & Shirley spoof, or one for Evan Williams brand whiskey — appear on the video screen. (These riotous, between-song bits are also known as the “interstitiary videos” in Freeman’s professional-speak.)

The result is both spectacularly effective and logistically bewildering. Roulston dryly explains, “Yeah, it’s kind of our motto: ‘To do everything the hardest way possible.’”

Entering the Livers’ headquarters — a.k.a. Roulston’s spacious Benton Park bedroom — one immediately begins to get an idea of just how detailed the band’s production process must be to pull off this kind of act. The vast space is part living area and part artist workshop, with enough cameras, lights and cables to outfit a television studio. In addition to the clothes, electronics, books and numerous art pieces strewn around, tiny strips of green tape on the wood floors mark frequently used instrument and filming positions. It is here that all of the “rhythm section” and comedic segments are taped.

Though these ingenious videos and fun live additions make the band instantly unique, without competent songwriting and playing prowess, the Livers would be little more than an interesting live art project. But the band’s tunes stand alone and can be enjoyed, even separate from its shtick.

The admitted “control freaks” extended their hands-on attitude to their debut album, Vino in Uriam Mutando, which they self-mixed. Recorded locally at Firebrand Recording studios, Vino sounds strikingly professional (with solid lyrics, wicked riffs and intimidatingly heavy drum hits) and contains recordings of a few songs that are quickly becoming audience favorites. Freeman’s “Autistic Girlfriend” was written as a “rock juggernaut” about a cold lady with insincere feelings and “a hole where her heart should go.” In contrast, Roulston’s “She-Wolf” is a wistful, gently sung pop-punk musing on missed opportunities and misdirected emotions. Other standout tracks include the sweetly seductive “Humble Plight” (a salute to the pleasures of love and makin’ love) and “2 Legs to Dance,” a jolting bass-and-beat-filled swoop into the world of dance rock that implores listeners to get up, get drunk and start dancing.

Between the Livers’ unprecedented musical presentation and strong tunes, it’s rumored that the young band has already been fielding label and distribution interest. When questioned on this development, both guys just smile and coyly decline to discuss this topic on the record, claiming superstition. It wouldn’t be surprising; the band contains the kind of natural charisma and overflowing raw talent that label scouts are always looking to unearth. Plus, Freeman and Roulston seem to have a very brotherly relationship — where both compliments and playful ribbing are common — and both are good-natured, smart and funny as hell.

On meshing their musical styles:
Scot Freeman: Luke’s music is really complicated and the time signatures are all weird and stuff and I can only play, like, uh…
Luke Roulston: 3/4 and 4/4 or a combination thereof. [Laughs]
Freeman: Yeah! Really, just like, Top 40. I just wanna play riffs and sing soaring choruses and that kind of stuff. So when I write a song it’s usually really simple but his stuff is all over the place and I’m like, “I’m gonna go ahead and dumb this shit down.”
Roulston: Well, that’s called “rocking it up.”

On their perfectionism in the videos:
Freeman: I think I’ve worked harder on this than on anything I’ve worked on, ever. There have been times that my actual job has bummed me out, but there have been times with this shit where I wanna cry.
Roulston: It’s toil.
Freeman: There’s been times when we worked on this 50 or 60 hours a week, while still working our regular jobs 40 hours a week. I mean, [we were] working to the point where it’s almost ruined friendships and relationships.
Roulston: But the best thing about it is, the other members of the band? They don’t seem to argue! [Laughs]
Freeman: On the videos, I’m of the opinion that Luke could pretty much fake it, that he could hit some wrong notes. But he refuses. He refuses to hit one wrong note, even though it wouldn’t matter.
Roulston: If there was a bass player [in the audience] that actually had perfect pitch and knew his shit, he would know.
Freeman: And that’s why he obsesses. We’ll get done taping and he’s like “I missed a note,” and I’m like “I played it fucking perfectly! I’m bleeding!” and he’s like “Let’s do it again.” And I’m like “Fuck!” and I fucking duct-tape my hand back together, [and] do it again.

On the band’s sound and influences:
Roulston: Thus far, we’ve been compared to ’90s music. But I love ’90s music. Our big influences are the Jesus Lizard and the Pixies and Nirvana and the Foo Fighters and, you know, just hard-hitting drums. And he [Freeman] plays better than most drummers I’ve ever seen.
Freeman: Yeah, all my favorite bands are fucking gone. Jesus Lizard and fuckin’ Seaweed, Failure, whatever. Bands that nobody remembers.
Roulston: At least the Pixies came back, I guess. You know what I liked? When Frank Black came to the Duck Room. That was a really fucking awesome show. I have nothing but respect for him. Actually, I have nothing but respect for anybody in the Pixies. They’re just… God! What a great fucking band! I would say, like, that’s the band that I would aspire to lick their…
Freeman: Junk!

• article - link
• interview outtakes - link
• The Livers - videos
• The Livers - MySpace
• Lo-Fi St. Louis - video link

• link

By the Numbers

Rarely, if ever, do we get jealous of Chicago — save for its big pizza and its 4 a.m. bars, which means that the city’s still partying while we’re driving through Taco Bell. But there’s one thing St. Louis can’t claim: The 1900s. And now we’re officially stamping our feet and whining, “No fair!”

Each exuberant element of the band’s sound calls to mind different comparisons: the boundless organ favored by the Zombies; John Denver’s tranquil simplicity; the honeyed vocal interplay of Fleetwood Mac or the Mamas & the Papas; and the omnipresent tension of the Velvet Underground. But even with these various influences, the 1900s aren’t close to being a rip-off; it’s like the band took only the best parts from these classic groups and combined them to design and birth a pretty little pop baby. In fact, the band was born so perfect that it signed to the Urbana, Illinois, label Parasol after its very first public show, in May 2006.

Now seven members strong, the 1900s’ first full-length for Parasol, Cold & Kind, is an indie-pop masterpiece. Main songwriter/vocalist Edward Anderson says the band wanted to make a “big, epic record,” and though the process was grueling (all band members still have day jobs) he modestly admits that “[Kind] seemed to come out all right.” Credit this satisfaction to his creative approach to music: Although Anderson writes lyrics the old-fashioned way — “I’ll just sit and smoke a lot of cigarettes and drink, like, a bottle of wine and try to figure it out” — recording music is another story.

“Like, the first run-through will be maybe on my phone while I have an idea,” he says. “And then I’ll do it on GarageBand for a couple weeks or months or whatever it takes, kinda iron it out. Then I’ll do a ProTools demo, then I’ll give a CD to the band. [The songs] usually change quite a bit [when] they all add their parts.”

For being barely two years old, the 1900s have received a ridiculous amount of good press. In fact, it’s nearly impossible to find a negative printed word. When questioned about this phenomenon, Anderson laughs and seems embarrassed. “Kind of miraculously, for the most part [the press] has been pretty good,” he says. “In Chicago a lot of people have the perception that we’re this band that made it and everything, because we do really well [there] and all the papers write about us and stuff. But then we go on tour and no one knows who we are.

“For us the main goal is to try to get a little more known outside of the city. It’s kind of exciting, though. You get people on MySpace or all over the world writing and stuff and someone will be like ‘Oh, there’s some teenagers in Paris listening to the record,’ and it’s like, ‘Oh, that’s strange.’”

— Jaime Lees

9 p.m. Saturday, March 29. The Billiken Club, 20 North Grand Boulevard. Free. 314-977-2020.

• article - link
• interview outtakes - link
• 1900s - website
• 1900s - MySpace
• photo credit: Rebecca Uhle

These snaps were just too hot not to post.

photo by Jaime Lees
PHOTO: Dead Confederate
WHEN: Wednesday, March 12, 11p.m.
WHERE: Stubb’s BBQ, big outside stage
NOTE: This band opened for R.E.M. (Athens represent) and might have been the best surprise of the festival. Read our coverage here.

photo by Jaime Lees
PHOTO: AA Bondy
WHEN: Thursday, March 13, about 9:30p.m.
WHERE: The gorgeous poolside rooftop stage of a heavily sponsored free party.
NOTE: This was one of 12 AA Bondy shows in a 3 day time span in Austin.

photo by Jaime Lees
PHOTO: downtown Austin, TX, view from the AA Bondy rooftop show
WHEN: Thursday, March 13, late night
WHERE: at 3rd Street and Guadalupe looking East
NOTE: There should be more rooftop shows. Always.

photo by Jaime Lees
PHOTO: Autolux’s Eugene Goreshter
WHEN: Friday, March 14, afternoon
WHERE: Red Eyed Fly backyard venue
NOTE: Goreshter’s amazing vocals on Autolux albums? Not studio magic. Dude actually sings like that.

photo by Jaime Lees
PHOTO: J Mascis of Dinosaur Jr, solo show
WHEN: Saturday, March 15, mid-afternoon
WHERE: Garden Party (read: gorgeous yard), the French Legation Museum
NOTE: J Mascis is a God among men (who just happens to use a baby pink Razr as his preferred cellular device.)

photo by Jaime Lees
PHOTO: Thurston Moore and the New Wave Bandits
WHEN: Saturday, March 15, afternoon, slot after J Mascis
WHERE: East Austin, French Legation Museum
NOTE: Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore stole the show with his expansive talent and boyish charm. Read our coverage here.

photo by Jaime Lees
PHOTO: The Breeders
WHEN: Saturday, March 15, about 9p.m.
WHERE: Waterloo Park, north of downtown, 2nd stage
NOTE: Two Deals are always better than one. Read our coverage here.

photo by Jaime Lees
PHOTO: Kid Sister at the Fool’s Gold Showcase
WHEN: Saturday, March 15, 1a.m. (after Flosstradamus, before Chromeo)
WHERE: Volume nightclub, next to the told Emo’s on 6th Street
NOTE: Kid Sister claimed she was crunk but she still held down her raps with a little help from brother Josh “J2K” Young (of super-fly duo Flosstradamus) as back up.Category: Music, Reviews, SXSW, Snapshots

• article link
• also, article in Village Voice blog - link
• AA Bondy - MySpace
• Autolux - website
• Breeders - website
• Dead Confederate - MySpace
• Dinosaur Jr - website
• Flosstradamus - MySpace
• J Mascis - website
• Kid Sister - MySpace
• Thurston Moore - website
• Sonic Youth - website

The Breeders played an unofficial South By Southwest show in Waterloo Park last night and gave the audience a small preview of its upcoming tour. The band dished out a long set of classics from its albums, plus selections from the Amps (Kim Deal’s other, other project). Instead of serving as a nostalgia act, the Breeders seemed fresh, well rehearsed and enthusiastic about the show. Surprisingly, even songs off of the forthcoming Mountain Battles went over well. As usual, Kim and Kelley Deal were gracious, dorky, sweet, smiling and sang in perfect angelic harmony. Kelley, especially, seemed into the performance. On stage wearing her “Dayton, Ohio” t-shirt, she picked up the bass and joked “I wish I knew a Korn song.” Their parents really should have had more kids.

Setlist (from picture):
Overglazed / Bang On / Tipp City / No Aloha / Huffer / Walk It Off / We’re Gonna Rise / Pacer / Shocker in / Gloomtown / Night of Joy / Divine Hammer / Cannonball / Happiness in a Warm Gun / Iris / Saints / Safari / Here No More Encore: Fortunately Gone / German Studies / Regalme

Note: pictured setlist isn’t entirely accurate, “Regalme Esta Noche” wasn’t played and I remember rocking out to quite a few songs that weren’t listed (”Doe,” “Hellbound,” “It’s the Love,” etc.)

• article link
• also, article in the Village Voice blog - link
• The Breeders - website

Whenever my fellow St. Louisans asked if I liked local favs Shame Club, my standard response was “I like them as dudes, but I just can’t hang with their tunes.” I’d last seen the band a couple of years ago and wasn’t impressed. It wasn’t at all bad, I just didn’t *get it*. And you know what’s a damn shame? That I had to come all the way to Austin to find out that my hometown band is bitchin’ after all.

I went to see the band at the Small Stone Records showcase last night and was not at all prepared for the bombastic blast. Each band member is electrifying and the dynamic combination produces everything you could want in a hard rock band: shredding guitar licks, thumping bass grooves, evil drum beats and wailing vocals. Holy shit, I’ve seen the light.

Andrew Elstner, singer and guitarist for fellow St. Louis band Riddle of Steel was along for the trip as roadie/groupie/merch dude, and it was his band that gave me a revelation about a year ago. Let’s call it the Revelation of Steel. I’d also filed his band in the “cool, but not awesome” section in the list of local bands in my head. After not seeing the band for years, I accidentally caught it at a random bar show and they blew me away. Much to my delight, practice does, indeed, make perfect and the Riddle prompted me to go back to bands I’d previously avoided and give them a second listen.

So now the same thing has happened with Shame Club. A band that was previously alright is now super tight. Man, do I feel like a tool. Hey, Shame Club, I’m down with you. And I take back any smack I’ve ever spoken about any local band ever. Don’t disregard your hometown superstars, kids. They might just rock you.

– Jaime Lees

• article link
• also, article on the Village Voice blog - link
• Shame Club - website

AA Bondy reinvents himself as an indie-folk artist
By Jaime Lees
Published: February 6, 2008

Though few outside of the indie circuit recognized Verbena, critics and fans hailed the group as the second coming of Nirvana. The comparison was easy to see — and not just because former Nirvana drummer Dave Grohl produced the band’s 1999 major-label debut, Into the Pink. When Verbena emerged from Bir­­m­ing­ham, Alabama, in the late ’90s, its sound was dark, powerful and based on a foundation of big pop hooks. Lead singer Scott Bondy in particular came across as very Kurt Cobain-esque, with his lazy, marble-mouthed singing style, snarky attitude and bleached-blond hair. These days, Bondy is all grown up and no longer playing the role of snotty rock kid. Performing solo under his birth name of AA Bondy (the initials stand for Auguste Arthur), he composes enchanting, elegantly sparse indie-folk music. The songs often feature just his voice and an expertly strummed guitar, with the occasional hint of mournful harmonica and handclaps used as percussion.

When he tries to explain the difference between the louder Verbena and his current stripped-back project, Bondy confesses via phone, “I don’t really know what I was doing before.”

He’s certainly figured out what to do on his solo debut, American Hearts (which will be re-released on Fat Possum Records in April). Hearts is a bewitchingly beautiful album that’s been embraced as an impressive contribution to the world of nü-folk — largely because the songs don’t sound like the “unplugged” indulgences of a former rock guy. They’re not stripped down; they’re just not decorated with unnecessary wrapping. The songs overflow with unflinching sincerity, and the tiniest details — like the delicate noise of fingers sliding across guitar strings — stand out and seem purposeful.

The way Bondy constructed Hearts reflects this simplistic style: He recorded it in a rickety old barn next to his house in New York. (”It’s a really good-sounding barn,” he says with a chuckle.) Perhaps as a result, Hearts‘ lyrics are also unadorned and straightforward, relying heavily on the polarities of good vs. evil, apathy vs. love and God vs. the devil. Still, Bondy finds plenty of room for shrewd statements (”Love, it don’t die/It just goes from girl to girl”) and optimistic observations (”The barroom is filled with the joy/Of making old friends.”)

Many of Hearts’ songs also carry a twinge of the ’60s protest vibe — meaning that the Bob Dylan comparisons are inevitable. It’s no surprise that Bondy has absorbed a penchant for clever lyrics; he cites Tom Waits, Nina Simone and Tom Petty as classic favorites. But of these influences, he fondly explains, “You can’t really speak to the nature of what makes things special. But whatever does make things special doesn’t really matter. I guess for a listener you just know it is special to you — and that’s all that matters.”During live shows, Bondy is frequently accompanied by his wife, Clare Felice, who plays the organ. She’s from the same family that produced the up-and-coming Americana band the Felice Brothers — a group Bondy lovingly refers to as his brothers and source of inspiration.

Jaime Lees: The stuff you’re recording seems very… like, if someone walked into your house, you could be sitting there playing it.

AA Bondy: Yeah, I could.

It seems very intimate — like you’re not putting on a kind of show.

Yeah, those songs could exist without any other accompaniment. And they were written that way. Which is one of the main differences between this stuff and anything that happened before it. Those other songs weren’t brought to the light of day in that fashion. They were always pieced together. They were… like, a guitar part always came first. They never started with, like, basically a finished song. Which all of these songs did. They were finished songs that things got added to — or didn’t.

Is it scary for you to stand up there alone?

When I first started playing by myself, I’d played tons and tons of shows with a band. I didn’t even understand how freaked out I was. If you’re getting up on stage with a band, it’s like you’re part of a team. But once you get up there by yourself, it’s totally different. ‘Cause you’re responsible for it all. I like it better. It’s more thrilling, at least. I don’t get too freaked out anymore, but I used to. When you’re by yourself, it’s so much easier.

How is your writing different as you’ve gotten older?

I actually write songs now. [Laughs] You know, I don’t just, like, play a guitar part and put some stuff over it. I just know that it feels completely different than it used to. It feels like there’s something contained inside of it, as opposed to being like a shell.

The topics seem pretty grown-up — relationships, war. Do you feel like you’re getting something out? Does it make you feel better?

Maybe it makes me feel better only in the way something gets completed that I’m somehow satisfied with. Not in the way that I’m saying something, you know. Like, it could be a song about a pile of leaves that I lit on fire and I could feel just as good about that as if it was, like, a so-called song that had something to say.

8 p.m. Wednesday, February 13. Off Broadway, 3509 Lemp Avenue. $8 advance, $10 day of show. 314-773-3363.

[FOR EXTENDED INTERVIEW CLICK HERE]

• 02-06-08 Riverfront Times (St. Louis) - article link
• 02-07-08 reprint in the Pitch (Kansas City) - article link
• 03-27-08 reprint in the Dallas Observer (Dallas) - article link
• interview outtakes here
• AA Bondy - MySpace

The Misfits at the Roberts Orpheum, Tuesday, December 4
Wed Dec 05, 2007
By Jaime Lees

Original Misfit Jerry Only has the unenviable task of filling the slot left by former lead singer Danzig, that superstar sausage. While Only’s attempts are appreciated, it’s true that the band just isn’t the same. The word I heard thrown around a bunch last night was “depressing.” Only at least looked like he was having a good time. He frequently flashed a handsome smile and made sure to high-five every single kid that got up on stage to stage dive. His signature devil lock hair style now protrudes from a receding hairline, but he did his best to act the part and keep the crowd amped. He gave typical banter (”St. Louis! Since you’re such a small crowd you’re going have to be THAT. MUCH. LOUDER!” or something like that) and basically let us know he knew where his bread was buttered. Keeping this audience happy required playing few new songs and tons of old Misfits classics (”Halloween,” “Die Die My Darling,” etc.), and the band obliged. As a nod to current guitarist Dez Cadena’s former band, the Misfits also ripped through a few Black Flag treasures (”Six Pack,” “Rise Above”). Sadly, this was my favorite part of the show.

• article link
• Misfits - website

Ian MacKaye takes on new venues.
8:30 p.m. Monday, November 5. White Flag Projects, 4568 Manchester Avenue. $5. 314-531-3442.
By Jaime Lees
Published: October 31, 2007

On an Even(s) Keel
As the frontman of the legendary punk bands Fugazi and Minor Threat and co-founder of Dischord Records, Ian MacKaye has proven himself to be both a prolific songwriter and a keen businessman. He birthed the highly respected independent label nearly three decades ago and it has since grown to be the very nucleus of do-it-yourself punk-rock culture. MacKaye’s unwavering integrity and sincerity in the face of the shady corporate music business reveal his career path to be nothing short of inspirational. Viewed as the moral and dignified godfather of the hardcore and straight-edge scenes, MacKaye seems to start accidental revolutions by simply speaking his mind and doing his work.

With the much-missed Fugazi on indefinite hiatus, MacKaye has plenty of other projects to cultivate. In addition to speaking engagements, running the label and giving interviews, MacKaye is busy scheduling tour dates for his newest band, the Evens, a lo-fi (yet still intense) duo with Amy Farina, formerly of Washington D.C.’s the Warmers. Though the Evens could easily cash in their punk-royalty status in exchange for the best gigs in town, the band schedules the dates by itself and prefers to play small, non-traditional venues including art galleries, libraries and community centers.

Calling from Dischord House, the headquarters of his label, MacKaye is instantly likable. He seems smart, affable and warm. In conversation he’s quick, but not rude. Funny, though not sarcastic. In this and every other forum, it is clear that MacKaye takes what he does very seriously.

“I work really hard,” he says. “[Other] people, they punch out for the day and they go home. I never punch out. I’m never off the clock, in a way. The fact that I haven’t separated my work from myself — it has its pluses and it also has its negatives.” The lure, however, is clear. “I wake up every morning having something to do and wanting to do it.”

Aside from the advantage of keeping costs down for fans, MacKaye reveals another purpose in booking alternative venues: “So we can be liberated from the rock world, which is pretty constricting when you get right down to it. I mean, you think about the kind of venues or the kind of establishments where music can be presented, and ultimately it’s pretty limited and largely dictated by one of two industries, you know — and that’s the rock industry and the alcohol industry. And since we don’t feel beholden to either, then why not break free?”

When MacKaye is questioned about his constant work and touring, he pushes off any concern. “I like places, I like people! I like going somewhere. I like that fact that music is a point of gathering that can effectively work anywhere.” Here he further clarifies: “I guess I don’t feel ever burned out at all. I just feel fortunate to be able to go play music.” — Jaime Lees

[FOR EXTENDED INTERVIEW CLICK HERE]

• 10-31-07 Riverfront Times (St. Louis) - article link
• 11-01-07 reprint in the Pitch (Kansas City) - article link
• 11-08-07 reprint in the Houston Press (Houston) - article link
• 11-15-07 reprint in the Nashville Scene (Nashville) - article link
• interview outtakes here
• The Evens - website

Read It In Books
Rats and People hide in a basement, can’t take a compliment, secretly dig proper literature.
By Jaime Lees
Published: August 22, 2007

Weeks before I sit down with Brien Seyle and Matt Pace of Rats and People, they predict that they will give a bad interview. We make plans to discuss the band’s new album, The City Of Passersby, but they are filled with apprehension. Reluctant to explain City’s songs, the pair doesn’t wish to be quizzed. They’re not trying to be difficult; they’re just not sure what they will have to say.

Seyle and Pace don’t seem to understand that they’re in one of the most interesting and original bands in St. Louis. Born from the ashes of punk-pirate legends the Whole Sick Crew, Rats and People easily blends genres and invents a style of its own: post-punk folklore.

Lead vocalist Seyle maintains his nasally, Dead Milkmen-esque manner of singing, but the Rats leave behind the Irish-beer-soaked swagger of Whole Sick Crew. Genres such as folk, blues, rock and bluegrass are distorted with non-traditional instruments, such as Jeremy Quinn’s glockenspiel and accordion and Pace’s trumpet and piano. The latter — who came from local pop favorites the Baysayboos — also tackles the formidable job of arranging Rats and People’s music.

Recorded by Rats and People bassist Garry Moore (a former professional sound engineer) in what Seyle describes as “the closet of a closet,” there is nothing amateur about the sound of The City of Passersby. Despite lush orchestration, the songs have a considerable delicacy, never once sounding cacophonous or over-produced. With the exception of the gorgeous, Pace-penned “Ohio,” Seyle wrote most of City’s lyrics, which unfold in a story-telling style of prose.

In the early days of the band, Seyle and drummer Rob Laptad and Jason Matthews (of the Monads) toiled night after night in a basement practice space. After a year of heavy frustration attempting to solidify its songs, Rats and People added Pace and the group finally coalesced. Since those first shaky months, there have been a few other lineup changes (including the departure of the busy and beloved Matthews and, more recently, fiddle player Beth Dill), but the core of the band remains strong.

With a little prodding, Seyle and Pace talked for an hour and a half straight, spilling out hilarious stories and heartwarming hopes. Gracious, quick to compliment each other and completely humble (if not self-deprecating), they conclude nearly every answer with a self-conscious roll of the eyes and an apology similar to “God, that sounds so pretentious.” They are also fond of passing praise on to current (and former) band members. While they seem to actually enjoy explaining their creative process, they are still cautious when delving into specifics, citing a mutual love for misunderstood lyrics. But the fact is, once the duo gets going, its love for the band and City won’t allow them to contain themselves.

Jaime Lees: First of all, please explain how Rats and People got started.

Brien Seyle: Robby [Laptad] and I were in the Bureau of Sabotage together, that later grew up to be the Bureau. Then we quit that band to found the Whole Sick Crew, which was a band that I dreamed of starting since I was, like, sixteen — ’cause I wanted to rip off the Pogues and sing songs about pirates. We eventually had to break up to lose the shtick factor.

Well, I liked that band.

Matt Pace: I liked that band, too!

Seyle: A lot of people liked that band, but the Whole Sick Crew were more publicly consumable because of the shtick. But more important than that is the Baysayboos, man.

Pace: [Bashfully] I don’t know if it’s more important…

Seyle: We loved the Baysayboos.

Pace: And we loved the Whole Sick Crew. We loved each other. The Baysayboos played with the Bureau of Sabotage, too. Brien looked like he was imported from somewhere. The rest of the band was, like, grooving, and Brien was doing his little spastic thing.

This seems like a very St. Louis album: There’s a fleur-de-lis in the CD packaging, a song called “Filthy Little River,” lyrics that mention red brick, a map included of what appears to be the city with neighborhoods labeled with song titles…

Seyle: The City Of Passersby is kind of St. Louis in another dimension. It’s totally sci-fi, unfortunately. I’m totally reaching for profound I always stop right short of profound — and then it’s just sci-fi, you know? I try really hard to make lyrics that reflect different things in our lives, but since I’m so story-driven, it always ends up being totally fucking D&D [Dungeons & Dragons]. I really don’t want to be pretentious, but I also wanna try really hard and make something awesome, but that’s a fucking hard line to walk.

The feelings in the lyrics are modern, but the stories seem kind of…

Seyle: Ye oldie timey?

Yeah, are the stories related?

Seyle: I’m vehemently opposed to the idea of this album as a concept album, but together it’s easy to imagine them all happening in the same place. But all of the characters in each of the songs are all so focused on their own dilemmas that they don’t even know that one step to the right there is a completely different, just as grave, dilemma going on.

The more I listened to it, the more the stories kind of fit together, as a collection. I kept thinking of Geoffrey Chaucer’s The Canterbury Tales.

Seyle: It’s a catalogue of stories, yeah, but God! A Canterbury Tales album? [Laughs] Maybe we should have written the whole album in Middle English!

Well, you all seem very talented, individually. Are you all multi-instrumental?

Pace: We all jump in here and there. I play a lot of different things within the band, but if the Devil challenged us to a duel, I’d pick up the guitar.

I understand you do all of the arrangements and orchestration? You take all the pieces and make them work? You’re like the Timbaland of the Rats and People.

Pace: [Laughs] Ha! I am! [Thinks, pauses, gets serious] The cool thing about [the band] is that it’s everyone playing honestly on an instrument. You could write the coolest shit in the world, but it’s not going to sound as cool as six people playing the instrument they play, live. I don’t mean to sound pretentious, but I think that’s one of the charms of our band.

What band do you feel closest to in town? Who are your contemporaries?

Pace and Seyle: [simultaneously] Bad Folk.

Seyle: Actually, we’re going to do a split seven-inch with Bad Folk, their song is “Saw a Circus” and ours is “I Sang to Heather Nethereye.” It’s about a prostitute.

Uh..”Nether… eye”? Like “down there”?

Seyle: Yeah. [Stops, looks freaked out] Holy shit! The word “nethereye” [sic] is from Chaucer! Dude, you had my number! There’s no Chaucer on this album, specifically, but Chaucer definitely plays a part… apparently.

• article link
• interview outtakes link
• Rats and People - MySpace

Rock the Vote
The 2007 RFT Music Awards winners are here!
Published: June 13, 2007

• article link

Stooges: The SXSW Interview
Wed Mar 21, 2007 at 07:29:08 PM
By Jaime Lees

David Fricke (a veteran writer at Rolling Stone) made no effort to hide his delight and took the opportunity to ask many intense, discussion-provoking questions. Though he made every attempt to contain himself, Iggy Pop commanded 90% of the talking time. When he managed to pass questions on to his bandmates, guitarist Ron Asheton released hilarious antidotes. I fully realized how old the Stooges were when drummer Scott Asheton finally spoke. Though his drumming might just be as hard-hitting and solid as the old days, his speaking voice is the measured, scratchy voice of an old man. Betraying his age once again, Pop spewed forth witty observations about topics such as rock & roll legends (the Velvet Underground’s John Cale “looks like the antagonist from Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls”), his own fashion adventures (he purchased his legendary dog collar from “the bowzer boutique”) and the state of new music (”contemporary tuna melt standard”). Pop also casually deconstructed classic Stooges tunes. For example, in the song “No Fun,” the riff was inspired by belly dancing, the construction is lifted from Johnny Cash’s “Walk The Line,” the “no” is from the Rolling Stone’s “Satisfaction” and the “fun” is from the Beach Boys’ “Fun Fun Fun.” Who knew?

• article link

Still More SXSW Coverage, Part Two
Wed Mar 21, 2007
By Jaime Lees

Local H singer Scott Lucas played a brief (and rare) acoustic set at Momo’s, the most relaxed and groovy venue I entered all during SXSW. (Cheap drinks? Free pizza? Breezy rooftop patio? I’ll take it.) Lucas started off with a new tune, “Them’s Fighting Words,” (introduced as “Flight of Icarus,” an Iron Maiden song), and followed up with Local H stand-outs “All The Kids Are Right,” “Fine and Good” and “Hey, Rita.” Though he ended with an achingly gorgeous cover of Concrete Blonde’s “Joey,” for the most part, Lucas seemed a little stiff. This might be owing to his early time slot or his strange habit of seeming more sincere and soul-bearing when playing a cover song. Still, witnessing these songs stripped of his band’s trademark big riffs and thumping beats makes it easier to hear how beautifully simple a pop song can be.

After Momo’s, I headed to the Austin Convention Center (SXSW headquarters) to sit in on a David Fricke interview with the Stooges. My take in another post. But by the end of the Stooges interview, Austin was starting to heat up. After a gloriously refreshing intermission in my hotel bed, I got up and trudged to the Beauty Bar, determined to catch the young Chicago DJ duo who go by the name of Flosstradamus. It’s not that Josh Young (J2K) and Curt Cameruci (DJ Autobot) are technically flawless DJs (two guys, two laptops, four turntables), or even that their sound is inventive and fresh; what makes Flosstradamus an impressive force is their game.

Sporting a fly B-boy fashion sense, wicked smiles and a playful “Can You Rock It Like This?” attitude, they bring the noise. The pair plays a combination of disco rock, old-school hip-hop, booty house and sample-heavy mash-ups that dare the audience to deny the urge to dance. The joint was jumpin’ — no lie. Historic rave essentials from artists such as Daft Punk and Deee-Lite are mixed with samples from the Beatles and LCD Soundsystem. Basically, if you were hosting a house party and you knew Flosstradamus, you’d beg them to rock your basement.

Friday night’s showcase at Mohawk was one of my favorite functions. Hosted by indie record label Ecstatic Peace, it featured a headline performance by label founder Thurston Moore, long-time Sonic Youth guitarist and living mop-topped rock encyclopedia. Forgoing his feedback-heavy, noise-based roots, Moore’s acoustic (!) set was pretty — even delicate. Joined on stage by Sonic Youth drummer Steve Shelley (billed as a “special guest”) Moore debuted new, unreleased songs called “Friend,” “Frozen Guitar,” “The Shape” and “Silver.” By the last song, however, Moore couldn’t resist the urge to jam out, incorporating snippets of favorites such as the Stooges “I Wanna Be Your Dog” into a loud swirling, trippy climax.

Moore’s label-mates, Pagoda, are best known for having actor Michael Pitt as its lead singer. Pitt recently played the lead in Gus Van Sant’s Last Days, a film based on speculation surrounding the last few days in the life of Kurt Cobain, Nirvana’s singer and a God-like cultural icon. I thought the movie was mostly tedious and boring as hell, but Pitt is riveting on-screen and on-stage. Actually, it’s so easy to be distracted by Pitt’s Cobainesque guttural caterwaul that audiences might miss some of the best ingredients in the band’s sound. First of all, they have an amazing cellist who seems to think he’s playing an electric guitar. His hands alternately caress and attack the cello viciously, creating an explosive noise that’s very different than what you would expect from the usually snooze-inducing instrument. Overall, Pagoda sounded a little like the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, a bit like Sonic Youth and fully like the second coming of grunge. But in the good way, I swear.

In short, I rocked. I rolled. I raved. Mission accomplished.

• article link

By Jaime Lees
Posted in SXSW | music on March 20, 2007
SXSW - Melvins, Buzzcocks, & Stooges

“Live, the Stooges are exactly as you would imagine. Pop is out front comanding all the attention, and the other band members are in the back, dutifully mixing up the magic.” [River Front Times]

• BrooklynVegan link

Shake Appeal: The Stooges at SXSW
Mon Mar 19, 2007 at 04:03:23 PM
Jaime Lees

The Stooges, at Stubb’s

It’s hard to find the line between journalistic appreciation and gushing fan girl. There have been quite a few occasions when I’ve had to put aside my love of Converse-wearing guitarists or cowbell-crushing drummers in order to sound more professional or just to get my point across.

So, here’s my confession: Finding objectivity is especially hard when writing this. Not to be too Rob Gordon in High Fidelity, but the Stooges are one of my all-time, top-five favorite bands. In my heart, this is real rock & roll. It’s dirty. It’s raw. It’s loud. It’s got soul. And I think the riff from “T.V. Eye” might still be the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life. See? “Hottest”? Forgive me, I can’t stop myself.

I’d been budgeting my energy all week. Since the Stooges were scheduled to take the stage just after midnight on the last official night of SXSW, I planned to combine all of my cries of, “Let’s sit down” and “I really should get back to the hotel” and cash them in for one big “I CAN DO THIS.” When it was time to stand among the crowd, get smashed in one place for hours, push off burly punk-rock guys and survive the slow torture of completely unremarkable opening bands (Kings of Leon, Spoon), I was ready.

Through the miracle of text messaging, I met up with a friend and we cruised down to the very middle of the crowd, about 30 feet from the stage. We sat down on the gravel and made plans to stick together when times got tough. Just like all girlfriends, we promised to never to let a man get between us; and if he did, we’d elbow him. We had three-and-a-half hours to wait.

After each band ended and their fans left, we’d jump up and claim new ground. During their sets, we’d worm our way even closer. Finally, after we’d been standing for more than two hours pressed against old friends and new comrades, we were about four feet from the stage barrier. Then the lights went down and the crowd went crazy. Instantly, I knew we were dead. There was no way we were going to survive the full show in this pit. We’ve both been through things like this plenty of times before, but this time the feeling was different. It wasn’t just aggro, testosterone-fueled raging; it was full-on insane fandom — which is way more dangerous and unpredictable.

Scott and Ron Asheton came strolling out on stage with honorary Stooge (and fellow rock royalty) Mike Watt (The Minutemen, fIREHOSE) on bass. Iggy Pop waited for the beginning drum hits of “Loose” before he came jumping out, already shaking and gyrating to the thump of the bass. There’s no way of knowing how this lean, muscular 59-year-old gets his endless spastic energy, but I like to think it’s from a deal with the devil. Pop’s senior serpentine is more genuine and sexy than Axl Rose’s ever was.

Live, the Stooges are exactly as you would imagine. Pop is out front comanding all the attention, and the other band members are in the back, dutifully mixing up the magic. After “Loose” came a string of Stooges classics, among them “I Wanna Be Your Dog,” “T.V. Eye” and “1970.” It was about this time that we knew we had to get out of the pit for fear of grievous bodily injury. We moved off to the left where it was still crowded, but no longer a battlefield. From here we watched Pop jump into the audience quite a few times and cause a crowd-crushing wave of bodies whenever he was near. For the majority of the show, he sang with his tight jeans hanging half off, threatening to expose Little Iggy at any moment. His sweaty performance is as fearless and wreckless as it was 35 years ago. And Pop’s full-bodied entertainment made newer Stooges songs much easier for the crowd to get into. They surged and slammed to “Trollin’,” “ATM,” “My Idea Of Fun” and “She Took My Money” just like they were proven classics.

After at least an hour of non-stop… uh… rawk… they took the customary pre-encore break. We prepared ourselves for all hell to break loose. When they came back out on stage, Pop asked for dancers to come to the front and “dance with the asshole Stooges.” We all looked at eachother in confusion. What does he mean? Push forward? Is he asking us to hop the barrier? Should we hop the barrier? Just then he made it more clear by saying: “Come up here!” We needed no more words of encouragement. My friend and I were up and over the speaker stack before security could move to stop us. Suddenly, we were dancing with about 30 other people on stage to “No Fun,” jumping up and down, screaming and shaking a little ass. We got close enough to sing in the microphone and wrap our hungry hands around Iggy himself. All too soon the song was over and we dancers were all standing on stage staring at each other, fully in shock. There was nothing else to do — we licked Iggy’s sweat off of our hands. How’s that for commitment to an article?

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