That’s Enough Already, Dave Grohl
By Jaime Lees
Thu., Feb. 13 2014
Dave Grohl is one of my favorite dudes in the world but he needs to hop off my radar for a minute. I’m a mega Nirvana fan and I’ve always admired Dave for his talent and humor, but lately I can’t seem to get him out of my face. His mug is everywhere.
It all seemed to start almost a decade ago when Grohl became a talking head on VH1-type shows, providing expert commentary on some of his favorite bands. He was loose, informed, entertaining. Everybody loved him. Once his skills were exposed, he quickly became the go-to guy for a good sound bite as a talking head, a special guest or a drop-in drummer. He seems to be able to do everything (and do it well), so he’s useful in many situations. Producers have decided that he’s their No. 1 man — his presence is clearly seen as an improvement to any event. He slowly moved from his long-held role of rock & roll everyman into professional event attendee.
And now, oh now, the man is everywhere. I barely even watch television, and he still manages to make it on any screen near me with the frequency of the rising sun. Grohl is like a freakin’ jack-in-the-box — you know he’s going to pop up, you just don’t know when. One of my favorite games is to try to spot him during major televised events. I don’t know dick about football, so I spent the majority of the last Superbowl game scanning the crowd shots for his floppy hair — like a post-grunge version of Where’s Waldo. I didn’t see him during my Superbowl party, but I saw a photograph of him later after the game and felt validated. He was there. Of course he was there. I knew it.
Award show? Grohl is there. Major festival? Grohl is playing it. High-profile collaboration? Grohl designed it. Supergroup? Grohl is up in it. Featured drummer? Grohl can do that. Receiving honors? Grohl is good at it. Star-studded tributes? Grohl jumps in. Music documentary? Grohl makes them. Rock the vote? Grohl rocks it all night. Photobombs? Grohl kills. Film festival? Grohl can hang. One-off performances? Grohl makes it happen. Television cameo? Grohl picks the X-Files. Country music? Grohl loves it. Foo Fighters videos? Grohl does them perfectly. Charity events? Grohl participates. Led Zeppelin? Grohl digs ’em. Internet memes? Grohl makes a fresh one. Protesting? Grohl does it in costume. iPhone party? Grohl wants in on that action. Lemmy time? Grohl steals the show. Punk legends? Grohl knows them. Video-game conventions? Grohl is the wizard. Late-night talk shows? Grohl does Letterman. Roling Stones concerts? Grohl makes them better. Producing sitcoms? Grohl thinks it’s easy. Birthday celebration? Grohl works those. Saturday Night Live? Grohl is the most frequent musical guest. Video guest star? Grohl wiggles on in. Surprise gigs? Grohl is all over it. South by Southwest? Grohl gives the keynote address.
Forget about Kurt Cobain: Grohl is clearly the voice of our generation — if only because he never lets anyone else speak.
There’s a reason that his number is always called: He’s smart, he’s funny, he speaks well, he’s good-looking and he always seems to be in on the joke. He’s an affable dude, and his laid-back nature and casual cursing makes him seem like cool big brother. Grohl is nearly universally loved. He just gets it. And he seems to genuinely enjoy making fun, collaborative things happen during otherwise boring events. There are very few people who most of us would like to kick it with, and Grohl just seems like the kind of guy who would never have to buy his own shot in any bar on the planet.
Last year, Grohl released his Sound City documentary. It’s pretty excellent, though it did sort of seem like 108 minutes of justifying Grohl’s eventual purchase of the Sound City Neve board. (Apparently the most holy console since the Megasound 8000 in Josie and the Pussycats.) This documentary served as his official entrance into the film world, so expect him to expand his appearance résumé to include events that aren’t musical at all. In this and other mediums, Grohl seems to be the opposite of everything that his generation is usually accused of (unambitious, lazy, directionless). Homeboy is going to get it all done, no matter what.
Lately, Grohl seems to be fixated on sucking at the teat of Paul McCartney. But if you’re going to cling like a baby rhesus monkey to somebody, it might as well be the only living Beatle. (Shut up; nobody counts Ringo.) Still, Grohl seems to have been a barnacle on Sir Paul’s nards ever since they got together to make a Sound City song. They’ve played together many times since then and just a few days ago, Grohl performed “Hey Bulldog” in that Grammys tribute to the Beatles. (Shit, Grohl could even pass for George Harrison at this point.)
Despite his many ass-kissing obligations, Grohl always seems to find a way to give back, too. His counterprotests of Westboro Baptist Church, participation in charity/awareness events and the small ways that he always seems to try to give back to fans do not go entirely unnoticed — but sometimes it’s hard to see these beautiful little gestures through the absolute blizzard of Grohl appearances.
So is Dave Grohl good? Yeah, he’s fucking great. And if he is our new cultural king, then we should welcome him — we could do much worse. But right now he’s like the ex that won’t stop texting you. You feel smothered. You wanna be like, “Dude, if you would just get up out of my business, like, ever, I would like you so much more.” So go away, Dave Grohl. But don’t stay gone forever, just enough to make us miss you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and we’ll be ready to love you again later, but for right now you just need to get up out of my face for a while, OK?
On Pop Music and Violence Against Women
By Jaime Lees
Wed., Feb. 5 2014
***ABUSE / RAPE TRIGGER WARNING***
I can’t stop thinking about Rihanna. Her single, “Stay,” came out a year ago this month and it’s still omnipresent. I’ll hear it on the radio, in the grocery store and played on the jukebox at a bar by some sad bastard with no concept of appropriate public drinking tunes. The song won’t go away, and neither will my conflicted feelings about Rihanna, her life and her music. Just like many others, the thing I most associate with Rihanna is the horrible act of documented domestic abuse she endured at the hands of her then-boyfriend, singer Chris Brown, in 2009.
Whenever I hear “Stay,” I get all twisted up inside. That’s kind of the point of depressing songs, anyway, but there’s an extra layer of icky-feeling that builds up inside of me. I love the song and think it’s pretty amazing, actually, but it also kind-of makes me feel nauseated. I think it’s because of those pictures. Whenever I think about her, I can’t help but think about violence against women and some of my friends who have survived it.
Should I let the personal lives of pop stars influence how I feel about their music? No, that’s silly. They’re just pop stars. Who gives a dick about their personal lives, anyway, right? Well, sometimes I do. I wish I didn’t, but I do.
I’m one of the few women I know who has never been seriously assaulted. I’ve never been raped, I’ve never been a victim of violent crime and a man has never to raised a fist to me in anger. While some might say that’s because I’m aware of my surroundings or I’m tough or I’m too smart to get trapped in a bad situation: They are wrong. I am just lucky. That is it.
I have, for sure, faced sexual harassment and unwanted sexual advances. This happens at least twice a month and it’s usually in public places and is perpetrated by strangers. Inappropriate words spoken to me are usually countered with harsher words from me. And any fools who have dared to touch, grab or pinch my body parts without permission have experienced the swift smack of my hand to their face. Maybe that’s not wise, but it’s my automatic reaction.
And as a younger female music fan, I had plenty of women to look up to– my generation was particularly lucky to have Riot Grrrls as our honorary big sisters. The Riot Grrrl movement was a new wave of feminism that encouraged women to be smart, strong and safe. Their “take-no-shit” message was spread through various formats: art, ‘zines and, especially, music. “Riot Grrrl” eventually became a dated tag applied to any young woman out to express her opinion, especially if she was at all angry or “nervy,” but the scene stands as a small, yet powerful cultural revolution.
I don’t mean to be all “get off my lawn,” but I don’t see anything like this in modern music. Sure, there are strong women, but they aren’t organized together and don’t seem to support each other in the same way. It seems as though most of the current big-name women entertainers are pop stars, not rockers. But sometimes rockers pay attention to pop music, too.
Just last week a I watched a video of Patti Smith covering Rihanna’s “Stay” at Smith’s 67th birthday show. From the stage, Smith described the song as “the 2013 song of the year.” Smith is a hero of mine, and this made my weird obsession with that song feel justified.
After watching Smith sing her heartbreaking live version, I looked up Rihanna’s official video for the song. Despite hearing bits of it approximately 100 times, I’d never seen the video. (I’m a music person, not a TV person.) And guess what? The video made me feel even worse about the whole goddamn thing. It’s Rihanna, vulnerable and naked in a bath tub, and there are lots of close clips of her face as she’s singing. In these tight shots, what I assume to be a scar from the Chris Brown attack shows on her top lip. (It’s in the same place where her lip was broken in the police photographs.) Her pretty face, all scarred up, as she’s singing, “I want you to stayyyyy…”
While we adults might have the ability to separate the artist from the what we perceive as the message (or realize that a song might not be autobiographical — Rihanna didn’t even write “Stay”), younger fans can’t be expected to analyze in the same way. This song, and her defensiveness of Brown in the months following the attack, might best serve as insight into the psychology of an abused woman and the systematic and powerful methods of abusers.
Many people (mostly parents of little girls) were pissed that Rihanna seemed to make excuses for Brown in interviews following the incident. They argued that when you’re an entertainer, you forfeit the right to deal with this kind of public situation in a private manner — you may not defend or in any way stand by your abusive boyfriend. Parents argued that Rihanna was a role model and that sometimes entertainers actually do have a small responsibility to set an example for their younger fans.
I don’t mean to blame the victim, but I, too, was disappointed with how that all played out. But I don’t necessarily think that it’s Rihanna’s job to provide guidance to to young people and I wouldn’t rely on any pop star to relay that message properly, either. So when this particular abuse story became public, I felt the need to talk to my pre-teen little sisters and make sure that they understood the situation. I wanted to make sure that they didn’t think this was acceptable. I tried to explain to them the complicated and convoluted thought process that is common in victims of abuse. And I wanted to make sure they knew that Chris Brown is an asshole.
I can be reactionary, and if I had been a fan of Chris Brown I probably would’ve gotten rid of all of his music upon seeing those horrifying photos. I’d like to think that I couldn’t be a fan of a man who would do that kind of thing to a woman — but it’s simply not true. Many, and I mean many, of my favorite artists are unsavory characters at best. Most of them probably have morals that aren’t in agreement with mine. And if I think about it hard enough, some of them are known woman abusers.
My music collection contains absolute shitloads of jerks, creeps and murderers. In my personal life I have a zero-tolerance policy for men who hurt women, children or animals. I don’t believe in rehabilitation for crimes against these groups, either. I’m of the opinion that men who cross these boundaries once will cross them again. But apparently this hard-line stance doesn’t apply to my musical tastes. And if you think that every musical artist you love shares your same values, however serious or trivial they may be, think again.
I’m from St. Louis, which is probably considered a land of misogynists and apologists to outsiders because of the adoration we openly give to our hometown musicians like Chuck Berry and Ike Turner — both known enemies of women. But still, I have tons of tunes by Berry and tracks from both Ike and Tina, separately and combined. (Tina Turner, another badass woman who was famously a victim of abuse.) Michael Jackson is in there, too. He was accused multiple times of inappropriate relationships with children, but that didn’t stop him from being the biggest pop star in the world and having the majority of humans continue to hold him like the river Jordan. And though some referred to it as a “rape anthem,” I’ve been known to shake it to Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines.” Shit, even Charles Manson made some good tunes.
Phil Spector had a big long history of terrorizing women, until one day he finally went to prison for killing one. But that doesn’t stop me from cranking the dial up to maximum volume any time I hear “Be My Baby.” I think “Be My Baby” is the best song ever written and whatever Phil Spector did or didn’t do in his life seems like it will never dampen my love for that song.
R. Kelly is accused of preying on underage females, which is particularly disgusting. (The Village Voice recently ran an excellent interview with respected music critic Jim DeRogatis on the subject.) But when I hear R. Kelly I don’t usually think about his scandals. In fact, I’ve worn a necklace repping R. Kelly’s “Ignition (Remix)” nearly every day since I got it last year. I love that necklace. And I love that stupid song.
So what the hell is wrong with me? Do I willfully overlook an artist’s abusive past if I like to “bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce” to their song? Does a necklace really matter? Why do some artists trigger a reaction in me while others seem to get a pass? What gives here? Should I be thinking harder about all of this? Should I be thinking less about all of this?
There’s a common criticism of feminists that we’re too serious or can’t take a joke or that every “little thing” doesn’t have to be a fight, but I think some things are worth fighting for and that it’s always appropriate to have a discussion about the safety of women.
Logically, I don’t think that a pop star’s personal life should influence how I feel about their music, but clearly, it’s still an issue in my life. Maybe it shouldn’t be, but there’s something that’s uncomfortable for me here. And when I’m uncomfortable I speak out. Or scream. Many thanks to the Riot Grrrls for teaching me about the power of the female voice — I intend to keep using it.
Sonic Youth 7:30 p.m. Friday, July 17.
Live on the Levee, under the Gateway Arch. Free.
Electric Youth: Sonic Youth and Kim Gordon continue to age gracefully with a new LP, The Eternal
By Jaime Lees
In their 28-year career, indie-rock godfathers Sonic Youth have experienced unprecedented success — and had unparalleled staying power. Credit this longevity to the band’s stability: Guitarist/vocalist Lee Ranaldo, drummer Steve Shelley, bassist/vocalist Kim Gordon and guitarist/vocalist/her husband Thurston Moore have launched numerous side projects, completed countless world tours and released copius rarites and studio albums.
The band’s Matador Records-released latest, The Eternal, marks its return to an independent label. (It had been with Geffen since 1990’s Goo.) But Eternal is the perfect extension of the Sonic Youth catalog, a hybrid of resonant guitar textures and jammy, jazzed-out, free-form experimentation. The album evokes Daydream Nation‘s unpredictable explosiveness and the near-psychedelic, extended harmonies of Washing Machine, but it isn’t a musical progression as much as it is a lateral move. That in particular is Sonic Youth’s trademark: Although each new album the band releases might contain heavier guitars, additional harmonies or more noise, they all maintain that nebulous Sonic Youth quality. There’s something special about the dreamy pop blasts that the band creates together; instead of their dueling talents triggering a compromise, it feels as though collaboration enriches the Sonic Youth sound.
As Sonic Youth’s bassist and one of its songwriters, Kim Gordon has long been an inspiration to younger musicians. As one of the few females in a respected, long-running rock band, Gordon is thought of as the cool, MILF-y matriarch of indie rock. But unlike many women, she’s praised as much for her musical input as she is for her good looks and hushed, lusty voice. Her contributions to the band have rarely been as pronounced as they are on Eternal, on which she sings lead on several tracks, and her imposing bass lines sweep boldly through the din.
A prolific visual artist, Gordon is also accomplished in many other disciplines — including painting, drawing, writing, producing and organizing both art and music events. She’s also fronted two successful fashion lines, X-Girl and the new Mirror/Dash, which is sold at Urban Outfitters. On the eve of Sonic Youth’s current tour, we spoke with Gordon about how she balances her multiple interests with life on the road. She has a reputation as being private — even aloof — in interviews, but we found her to be inviting, engaging and downright giggly.
Jaime Lees: You have so many different projects. How do you decide what you’re going to work on? Is it deadlines?
Kim Gordon: Yeah, deadlines. Exactly. Well, with the art stuff, some things you have to create [on deadline], either projects with someone or sometimes you get asked for a show. I work on ideas and stuff, but when it really comes down to it, it’s all about a deadline.
Do you complete your art first and then look for a show for it, or do you hear about an interesting show and want to create something for it?
It’s kind of a little of both. Right now I’m in this show in Graz in Austria, a group show. I don’t usually like group shows, but this one was interesting. I like the curator [Diedrich Diederichsen]. He’s a writer before he’s a curator. [Along with] my friend, Jutta Koether, who’s an artist, they asked us if we wanted to do a collaboration.
So how can you spend half of your life on the road and still be painting?
Well, this has been a really busy spring, but generally we just tour around a record. We’re not one of those bands that goes on tour for a year or something. We have a daughter, and Lee has kids so, you know, I try and tour around her school schedule. We’ve been gone a lot this spring already, so it’s hard. And I think it’s actually harder for moms to leave their kids. I know some people say, “How come people don’t make a big deal about asking fathers what it’s like to go on the road?” It is hard for them, too, but I think it’s easier if you have one parent at home that’s taking care of it.
Do you bring her [daughter Coco] with you on tour?
Sometimes. But as she’s gotten older she’s been able to stay home with someone. And she prefers to stay home. [Laughs]
When you’re out touring and you get to each new city, do you have something you like to do there? You know, like some people like to find the city’s best restaurant or used bookstore or whatever.
Oh yeah, we’re totally into picking out good restaurants. And actually, Mark [Ibold, of Pavement fame], who is playing bass with us now, he’s really great at looking up food websites, and he always knows about places to try. But when we first started touring, it was always like, “Where’s the good barbecue place?” [Laughs] So when we get to a city, sometimes we’ll get day rooms at a hotel. We usually have a few hours during the day to hang out before we do sound check, and sometimes we have interviews.
So you have sound check and then you go do your dinner thing before the show?
Sometimes. I mean, you have to eat a certain amount of time before the show. Steve, our drummer, won’t eat if it’s less than five hours before our show.
Does he get barfy?
[Laughs] He just plays better. And you do play better if you’re not full. Nothing like a whole lot of barbecue and then having to go onstage! [Laughs]
So do you get any of your other work done on tour? I mean, it’s not like you can paint on the bus…
It’s hard. Some people can do a lot of stuff on tour. I can’t because I have a perpetual state of exhaustion because I don’t sleep on the bus very well. Like, Lee seems to always have little projects he’s working on, but I’m not so good. I’m going to try and seek out, like, yoga classes and things like that to offset the barbecue. [Laughs] It’s a little anxiety provoking, actually, to have to go away for six weeks. In fact, I’m in the middle of packing right now.
I know, like, how many shoes do you bring? Who knows?
Yeah, it’s like, how do I pack all these vitamins? I always over-pack. But you’re basically living out of a suitcase for six weeks. It’s like, you buy all these clothes [at home], but then you kind of have to say goodbye to them. [Laughs] It’s hard to go away during the summer, actually. But it’ll be fun once we get going.
Is it easier for you guys when you’re touring with another band, because then you have more people around to hang out with? Or is that just annoying?
[Laughs] Well, it can be. You’re together all the time, and sometimes you sort of create a distance, because otherwise you would really be irritated all the time. [Laughs] Twelve people on a bus is kind of hard. But anyway, God, it’s nice to be asked other questions than normal, you know? I mean, we get tired of the same questions all the time so it’s going really well so far. You’re doing a good job.
Well, thank you. I’m bored with reading the same questions all the time. So, do you ever have free time? Do you ever have a time where you’re at home, and you don’t have any huge projects staring at you?
Um, pretty much never. But last summer, we only did a little bit of touring, but that was the first time in maybe twenty years where we hadn’t toured in the summer. I mean, it was kind of shocking, actually. But when I’m home I procrastinate about doing things so I can hang out with my friends. Like now, I should be getting my things done, but I’d rather see my friends before I go, so…
So what are you doing when you get back from tour? What’s your next big thing?
Well, Mirror/Dash, the clothing line, is kind of an ongoing thing. But for the next project, I have a book I’m working on, my paintings, and I’m sort of working on another painting series. But we’re going to do a bunch of touring in the fall, so I’m kind of keeping my schedule as open as I can. I don’t want to be too…pressured. But as busy as I am, Thurston has many more projects than I do. I don’t know how he does it, really. But it’s energizing if you get stuff back from it.
7 p.m. Saturday, July 12. Verizon Wireless Ampitheater, 14141 Riverport Drive, Maryland Heights
By Jaime Lees
Published on July 09, 2008
A’ight, here’s the dizzle: The d-o-double gizzle is in the Lou this Saturdizzle. Snoop Dogg is guarantizzled to pull out his sweet summer jams (“Drop It Like It’s Hot,” “Who Am I (What’s My Name?”)) at this show, fo’ shizzle. Though he’s known for smoking lots of marijuizzle, Snoopizzle is far from a stoned slackizzle. He’s even improved his shizzle from the early days of Cali-collaborating with Dr. Dreizzle. Quite the entreprenizzle, Tha Doggfather also knows how to get paid lots of bizzles. From directing pornizzles to pimping out poonizzles, he’s got all kinds of businizzles. C’mon, maybe it’s about tizzle to take a break from grilling outside of your red brick hizzle. Don’t stay home and watch another Cardinizzles game on the televizzle — roll out to the Verizon Wireless Ampivizzle ’cause this show is sure to be off the hizzle.
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 August 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.
>> EXTENDED INTERVIEW HERE <<
If someone said to you, “Hey, you should totally check out the Secret Handshake. They’re, like, ambient electro-emo,” what would you do? You’d want to throw up into your Emily the Strange lunch box, right? Well, the truth is: The band’s not as bad as you’d expect. The tunes are just ambient enough to be pretty, electro enough to be interesting and hardly emo at all if you ignore the (infrequent) lyrics. There’s an indie splash and some pop sprinkles in there, too; at times the better songs sound like a teenage version of the Cars. But if you’re over the age of 21, it’s not going to get you dancin’. Just stay at the bar and leave this one to the kids. Family Force 5 headlines.
The indie-blues duo Two Gallants showcases complex and original folk ballads. The pair’s lyrics are at once confessional and cheeky (“If liquor’s a lover, you know I’m a whore”) and its songs are gritty, somber and (sometimes) uncomfortably sincere. New fans are often lured into its hypnotic live show by dense, emotionally naked songs. Two Gallants also has a witchy ability to enchant: Often when its set is over, the audience collectively wakes up and remembers to snap back to the normal concert-attending reality of getting a drink, taking a piss or talking to their friends. Two Gallants are opening for Les Claypool this time around, but we’d bet the next time they come through town they’ll be headlining.