Photo by Thomas Stuby

Below is the first of many entries like this. We call it the “Turn the Page” posts and it’s where we flip the idea of 52 Shows around. Instead of a writer reviewing a show, we have the artist on stage tell us what their experience was like. This was the first one we got and I’m sorry it took so long to get up (we were hoping for a dedicated page, but for now, this will do).

Anyway, enjoy. And many thanks to Kate Tucker & The Sons of Sweden being the first.

Kate Tucker & the Sons of Sweden
Record Release Show at Act Theatre
December 7, 2007

It’s our record release show. The theatre is packed. Friends, faithful fans, and a wash of new faces…the lights are down. We’re in the back, going over transitions and the final set list. There’s a moment – three seconds maybe – of heartfelt silence: four syncopated beats and thoughts. It’s been a year since those wintry nights at Bear Creek, recording these songs that only just now feel like our own. Just now, at this moment, before the lights come up.

On stage, the video crew sweeping in, the crowd has risen, pushing, pulling to be in the camera lens. It’s all for the making of our new video, “Everything Went Down” and it’s happening right now, as we play live before everyone. The crew gets one chance, just like us, to pull it off, to take their shots and capture the song.

When I sang on The Hours “Lost your shot at the stage this time” I thought to myself in the midst of it, “On no, not us, not this time.” I’m looking around, at all these dark figures standing just outside the blinding lights. I know what that place is like. But I’m not there tonight.

We form a clear spectacle, a bright box of light for the cameras and for all those eyes. My eyes begin to get lost in the darkness, moving around the room, from one figure to another, the crowd surging momentarily into my light, approaching nearness. I am thinking of words and worlds, the stories we tell and the songs that bear them up, the people who play the soundtracks for those living the stories.

I keep fixing my eyes upon a single figure up in the balcony, directly left of the main camera. It’s not the director, not of one the crew. I’ve already placed them. I feel funny for a moment, reminded of how that person, that mysterious figure standing stubborn in my central vision is watching me watching him or her or whomever…

Everyone is watching. So I dance. I look around. I think of how strange it is to be in this little box of light I call my world tonight. How lucky it is to have stories to sing and people who want to hear them. People in life who celebrate song.

It was a good show. I can’t wait to see the video.

-Kate Tucker

Kate Tucker & The Sons of Sweden - “The Hours”

I can finally scratch off Radiohead from my list of favorite bands (that are still alive/together/not retired) that I have yet to see.  They were the last and most elusive one, as they don’t make many trips to the states.  Radiohead are somewhat of an enigma, being one of the most influential and important bands of the last twenty years.  They’re just one of those bands that you plain have to see, and I finally got my chance.

My buddy and I bought tickets immediately after they confirmed a show in Cleveland, OH at the Blossom Music Center on August 4th.  We waited a few days last time and the D.C. show sold out.  (Yea, we were willing to drive the five hours from Pittsburgh.  After all, it’s Radiohead!)

It was my first trip back to Blossom since my very first concert ever there when I was five years old to see Donnie Iris and the Cruisers.  We got stuck in a bumper-to-bumper line trying to get off of the Turnpike and down the local road to the amphitheatre and then into a parking space.  We sat for a good hour in traffic, hoping that they would delay Radiohead’s start since it was sold out and thousands of people were still parking.

No luck.  During our mile walk from the lot to the amphitheatre we heard the crowd erupt.  They had just lunged into “15 Steps” as we broke into a sprint.  Thankfully, that was all we missed of the set, although we were disappointed to miss them initially take the stage.

The whole experience of a Radiohead concert is just that-it is a whole experience.  Not just a drunk-fest with fan sing-alongs.  From the music-which is intricately and expertly played–to the light show, to Thom Yorke’s frantic on-stage persona, it was something completely new and exciting that I had never witnessed before.  You almost sit there waiting to learn something and be enlightened.  I was totally expecting to be blown away.  Besides, it’s Radiohead!

Particularly, the light show was insane!  Above the stage hung several dozen columns that I expect were made of some sort of fiber optics.  Light and animation were then either projected or beamed from the columns.  It was absolutely mesmerizing and added such a huge visual element to what was happening sonically on stage.  And the crowd was fueled by the changes in the light show that punctuated the music.

Radiohead kept things pretty mellow and mid-tempo, as most of their music is anyway.   They played the entire In Rainbows disc, with “House of Cards”, “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi”, and “Reckoner” being standouts for me.  (Check out my crappy-quality camera phone videos below) -We’re trying to get those up…and we’re failing bigtime. More word on those videos soon…-Eddie

Absent were “Karma Police,” “The Bends,” “Fake Plastic Trees,” “High and Dry,” and of course “Creep,” which Thom utterly hates playing.  This did not surprise me as the set was kept pretty liberal and experimental.  Although, I would have liked to hear them play “My Iron Lung.”

The band left the stage only an hour into their set and thanked the crowd.  This was to be the first of two encores they took that night.  Presumptuous?  Maybe.  But when you witness how well they play, what they do, and how well-written the songs are, it is perfectly within their right.  After all, it’s Radiohead!

During the first encore came the highlight of the night for me and the rest of the crowd.  “Paranoid Android” was absolutely mind-blowing live with its ups and downs and tempo changes.  It also saw the band rock out more than any other selection that night.  Add to it just how awesome a song it is and the explosive light show (see videos) -again, we suck- and you have your quintessential Radiohead moment.

They barrage your senses from all angles with sound, light and emotion that you don’t need any drugs to feel a high.  This was the first big concert that I didn’t drink at.  I really wanted to be able to remember this one.

However, there was more marijuana smoking here than any Tom Petty show I’ve ever been to.  The clouds of smoke from joints and cigarettes were smothering for an outdoor venue.  And unfortunately I was standing by Thom Yorke’s echo for half of the show.  Don’t ever be “that guy” that sings the words to every song and says “Oh Sweet!” when the next one starts.  I came here to hear Thom sing, not some scenester douchebag.  We eventually relocated.

I am not going to dissect their music here.  You either love it or you don’t.  But the one thing I most appreciate is that they reproduce everything live.  All of the swirling effects and feedback are performed live–even the synth beats.  There are no canned samples or recorded tracks.  Radiohead are a band that believes that if you can’t replicate it live, it’s not worth doing, and I am a subscriber to this.  It may not be appreciated as much or even realized by someone who is not a musician, but it is the Holy Grail of live performance for those that play.

Jonny in particular swapped picks for cello bows, guitars for synth pads, and standing for crouching over his effects board, making the strange sounds and atmospheres that make Radiohead what they are.  He also used a lot of E-Bow for sustained notes and feedback.

Thom played a lot of piano and Rhodes and swayed his head back and forth so much while singing, it was hard to understand how he could do it so smoothly.  He of course was spot-on and dominant for such a small guy.  Vocals never faltered and hearing Thom live was even more soulful than on the recordings.

Not enough credit is given to drummer Phil Selway.  He managed to keep the beat throughout all the odd time-signature changes and chord progressions.  If you are familiar with Radiohead’s writing style, you know that is no easy feat.  He was solid as a rock and kept everything simple:  no gaudy flourishes or over-the-top rolls.  Just solid pocket drumming with lots of kick, snare, and ride.

The rest of the musicians (Ed O’Brien-guitar; Colin Greenwood-bass) filled out the sound with layers and textures that were hard to pick out separately but joined together to make one heck of a sonic landscape.  Not many bands can achieve that.

The band ended the night and second encore with “Everything In Its Right Place.”  As they thanked the crowd and left the stage, the title “Everything In Its Right Place” was scrolled across the light columns.  It wasn’t immediately obvious–you had to pay attention to see it.

But, an important note to Radiohead production crew:  they spelled “Its” wrong, using the contraction “It’s” instead.  Call me a grammar nerd for noticing, but the band just got done making a sly political reference to Big Oil during the song, and the title is significant.  You wouldn’t want a simple spelling error to mar your objective.

Besides, it’s Radiohead!

Videos

House of Cards

Paranoid Android

Reckoner

Weird Fishes

Everything in its Right Place

I’ll be honest. After working damn near 12 hours, I was barely in the mood to go out. But the lure of the night was too much for me, as was the prospect of entering a club with the distinct smell of beer and puke.

I had heard of the Duke Spirit, which is to say I read about them somewhere and knew that people were talking about them. What I didn’t realize was that the band was fronted by the Liela Moss, the energetic blond with a penchant for reaching to the sky and picking up mic stands.

There she is during one of her epic rock poses that sent her hair flying. At first i thought she was trying to hard, attempting to emulate rock stars of the past.

Then she started to act like she was seducing the mic and then starting slamming her tambourine in her hand. Before long, I found myself completely into the music, mesmerized by this blond singer with an English accent telling me a story about some accident the band had in the past. I didn’t care. I wanted another song so that the beat could be stuck in my head.

I wish I could tell you all the songs they placed. I can’t. I can tell you they played the song featured on this post, which is off their album “Neptune.” It’s been a while since I’ve seen a woman command a stage this well and with this much playful ferocity.

Random observation: the drummer is the guy with the fro in the picture who looks like Bob Dylan. He always wears vests and I wondered halfway through if he really liked vests or if he felt that every indie band should have “that” guy.

And with Moss’ stage presence, it’s always great to see a performer being as epic as possible, even if the club she’s in is a small one with ratty old pool tables in the back.

But what grabbed me from this show was how well it just took over my mind. Before long, I didn’t realize how much i was enjoying the songs and found myself completely lost in a wonderful aural sea of awesomeness.

Or maybe it’s because I gravitate towards any woman who flings her blond hair around that much.

Either way, like a teenager leaving a Mexican stripclub, I felt surprised and completely fulfilled after the show and wondered how many other good shows I’ve missed because I was “too tired” or “too drunk” to get there (ok, maybe the latter is a valid excuse).

Next time I say that to myself, I’ll think back to those mental pictures I now have of Liela Moss embedded in my brain.

The Duke Spirit - “The Step and the Walk”

Aug 8 2008 8:00P     All Points West Festival New York / New Jersey, New York
Aug 9 2008 8:00P     New American Music Union Festival Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Aug 10 2008 8:00P   3rd and Lindsley Nashville, Tennessee
Aug 12 2008 8:00P   The Basement Columbus, Ohio
Aug 13 2008 8:00P   Magic Stick Detroit, Michigan
Aug 14 2008 8:00P   Empty Bottle Chicago, Illinois
Aug 17 2008 8:00P   Slavia Stadium - Supporting REM -(Multifunctional Centre Eden) Prague
Aug 22 2008 8:00P   Reading Festival Reading
Aug 23 2008 8:00P   Leeds Festival Leeds
Aug 24 2008 8:00P   Solfest - Main Stage Tarns, Silloth, Northwest
Sep 6 2008 4:30P     ‘Bestival’ - BBC Tent Isle of Wight, South
Sep 26 2008 8:00P   Oran Mor Glasgow
Sep 28 2008 8:00P   The Cockpit Leeds, Northeast
Sep 29 2008 8:00P   Club Academy Manchester, Northwest
Sep 30 2008 8:00P   Astoria London, London and South East
Oct 1 2008 8:00P    Komedia Brighton, London and South East

Last night (I know, it’s rare that I write about a show this quickly), I checked out Wakey! Wakey!, a band we were touting last week thanks to their free album download “Wakey! Wakey! Live at the Bowery Ballroom.”

Armed with a sensitive beard and a keyboard, Wakey! Wakey! took the minimal stage at the Asian-themed restaurant/bar/music venue, All Asia, as the opening act for the CNC marathon (not the music factory, though they are kind of like a music factory).

I know, the name is offputting and now you don’t even want to press play to hear his music. You should. He’s like Ben Folds.

“But I’m better looking than Ben Folds,” said Mike Grubs during the show. “You can tell Ben Folds that…now he’s going to kick my ass.”

The comparison is warranted. When a young, hipster white guy sits down at a piano and starts to sing, the first thought in everyone’s mind is “Ben Folds” followed very quickly by “Hey, I want to hear ‘Brick‘ again.”

In fact, after Grubs sang a cover of Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” (it’s not weird when you sing it with the passion of a white pianist with a beard), some dude yelled out “Ben Folds!”

(Right the music. I’m losing track here. I have “Brick” playing in the background and am thinking about abortion.)

Wakey! Wakey! - “LGA”

See? Once you get past the name, it’s engaging, sensitive music.

He’s got a couple of albums out, mostly of live material (he calls it the Bootleg Series and as far as I know, there are three volumes. The second one is called “Silent as a Movie”).

The show was intimate. It was 8:30pm on a Friday night, so the crowd was somewhat thin. But Wakey! didn’t care. He treated us like we were an army of music fans, talking about drinking his first Sam Adams Light (”It’s great. And it’s light so I’m going to drink four of these and sing at the bar later”) and how awkward it is to sing “War Sweater” in front of his sister (who may or may not have been hit on by an older guy at the bar).

But something else happened during the show, and I’m not sure if it’s because there’s been a lack of it in the world or it I just haven’t been paying attention: I’m ready for sensitive piano rock once more.

It was refreshing to hear a song with the lyric “I bet you can’t guess what I would to kiss you in the middle of the room” and fully enjoy it. Maybe it was his easy-going style or the fact that I needed a calm moment from enduring another horrible week at the office (why did I think Journalism was a good career again?).

In many ways, the name of the band is appropriate. Not only does it foreshadow the idea that it’s something you won’t expect, but Grubs music helps you wake up from the familiar sound of the guitar/bass combo. Tis time for the piano.

Before he went on, Grubs mentioned that he’ll be doing something with the violinist from The Arcade Fire. I don’t care what it is because whatever this guy releases, I’m ready to hear it.

Aug. 26 TT the Bear’s, Cambridge
Aug. 28 Rockwood Music Hall w/ Pearl and the Beard, New York City, 9 p.m.
Aug. 28 Public Assembly 0 Warhouse Songs Vol. 2 CD Release Party, Brooklyn, 11:30 p.m. (yes, 2 shows in one night)
Aug. 30 The Red & Black Washington DC
Sept. 24 The Black Cat Washington DC

I guess I’ve been living under a short bus, because I didn’t discover Jay Brannan until Wednesday night when I saw him at the Highline Ballroom with Chris Pureka (who I assumed was male when I saw her name on the ticket). In case you’re wondering what kind of music they play, Pureka gave a better description than I could when she said, “Jay Brannan and I are pretty similar. His songs are sad and depressing wrapped in joy and my songs are sad and depressing wrapped in sad and depressing.”*

It was my first time at the Highline Ballroom, a mostly seated venue, with some standing room by the bar. Pureka compared it to mystery dinner theatre, which again was a fairly accurate description. I always enjoy sitting at concerts, because that way I can actually see, but the $10 minimum should be stated on the tickets, as other venues do. Not that $10 is so much money, but if you’re not planning on drinking and you already ate dinner, it’s a small annoyance. Overall, though, it was the perfect venue for the show, intimate, yet spacious at the same time.

Pureka looked very young and small when she approached the stage, hunched over her guitar, but when she started singing, she commanded the room. She has a very relaxed staged presence, chatting casually to the audience in between numbers.

I didn’t know who Jay Brannan was until my friend told me about this concert a week ago. She told me I’d love him. When he walked out in an I Heart (actual heart, not the word) Guacamole shirt, I knew she was right. During the show, I became a total Jay Brannan fan, although I get the feeling most of the audience in the club already were. Brannan kept talking about how everyone had heard his stories before because he’s played in New York so many times. This wasn’t arrogance on his part. Most of the audience did seem to be repeat offenders, but I didn’t feel alienated. He told enough stories that I didn’t feel cheated. Not only does he have a beautiful falsetto voice and well-crafted songs, but the guy is hilarious, and pretty to look at. His asides were as entertaining as the music itself, but I won’t write those here, as he seems worried about running out of material.

He started the set accompanied by a cellist and violinist (unfortunately I didn’t have pen and paper to write their names down), then played solo, then brought them back out. He even asked for audience participation in the form of clanking glasses during “At First Sight.” Most were happy to participate, some a little too enthusiastic by trying to play throughout the song rather than just the chorus.

Jay Brannan “goddamned”

Weren’t we just talking about live albums and how some fool thinks they are dead?

This one came to us free from Wakey! Wakey!, a piano-playing, fun-loving guy who has a soul of jovial humor.

To be honest, I was put off by the name. Just looking at “Wakey! Wakey!” sends obnoxious chills down my spine and produces images of a strict parental figure.

But, I’m happy to report, the music is closer to Ben Folds than your crazy aunt.

Wakey! Wakey! “Blame You”

If you like that, download the entire live album for free. It was taped on June 25, 2008 at the Bowery Ballroom.

i wasn’t expecting this. I was expecting children’s music or irritating lyrics about the morning time. Instead, Wakey! Wakey! gave me piano-based ballads that warm my indie rock mind. Oh, he also does a cover of Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy,” which seems to be the thing people do.

Enjoy…and let me know if anyone has seen this cat live.

Last week was hell for me. And when I say hell, I mean that it was a getting-kicked-in-the-crotch horrible with a side of smelly shit. Yea, real bad.

(As for why, let’s just say the debilitating state of the newspaper industry hit home, turning me from a vibrant and happy arts reporter to a full-of-piss-and-vinegar-rage cops reporter).

But I pushed on and, in the end, found that the right mixture of ice cream, Chinese food and indie rock is the right recipe to turn a shitty, soul-sucking, debilitating week completely around.

Step one: eat an obscene amount of ice cream at the Jimmy Fund Scooper Bowl, an event that combines the unbridled joy of a buffet with the creamy taste of dairy. For $8, we went nuts, trying flavors like “Cheesecake Brownie,” “Birthday Cake,” “Imagined Whirl Peace” and “Mint Chocolate.”

From there, we headed to Chinatown and, after gorging on fried calamari and fried rice (yea, i beat the shit out of my stomach), it was time for the ladyfriend to return to the apartment, leaving me and the sis to venture out to the show.

(BTW: The most disturbing part of eating in Chinatown? Waiting for the men’s bathroom and seeing an elderly woman emerge from it. Worse than that? She didn’t flush).

Local band You Can Be a Wesley was performing when we got to Great Scott in Allston, inspiring us to head straight to the bar. The band was decent, though at times I felt their lyrics were completely comprised of sounds like “waaaaahhhhhhhhaaaww” and “aaaaaahhhhhhhhrrrrraaa.” It was endearing at first. Then annoying.

After Wesley was done, they said Grand Archives would be up next, which surprised me since I was expecting to see Sera Cahoone, who is on Subpop (like GA) to hit the stage next. We found out later she was sick and couldn’t perform that night.

Instead, we got the impossibly thin Mat Brooke (seriously, his legs look like ski poles) and company taking the stage and launching right into the music that, for the past year or so, have sent music bloggers into hyperventilating hysterics (I’m one of them).

Brooke looked possessed when he sang and tilted his head back during the high notes, which made his eyes look even wider. At times, he looked like a mix of Cat Stevens, Torgo from “Manos: Hands of Fate” and my old college roommate when he was drunk and stuck in the bathtub.

When he sang, his entire body stayed relatively still while his left leg vigorously kept the beat, so much so that it seemed to have a life of its own.

As the music played, every bad and negative thought in my mind melted away and I was left with an overall feeling of carefree wonder, as if the Grand Archives somehow mystically made me feel better about the stupid industry I chose for a profession (yay journalism).

In short, the Grand Archives saved my life that night.

But the best part was sharing that feeling with the band. GA was genuinely surprised at the response they got in Boston, with Brooke saying “This is, by far, the biggest crowd we’ve ever had. Thanks so much. Really.”

And then when the shouts and screams got louder, a small smile crept up on his bearded face, causing him to look up and reveal (for a brief moment) a glimpse of joy in his eyes.

The show was amazing. If you know their music, you know there’s hardly a bad song in their catalog (despite only having an EP and one album). One highlight was “The Crime Window,” a natural sing-a-long song that had the crowd stomping their feet and screaming.

But the big surprise was hearing “Torn Blue Foam Couch.” I never realized how much this song rocked. The quiet opening gave way to Brooke and company pounding on their respective instruments as the crowd howled in excitement.

Grand Archives - Torn Blue Foam Couch

Brooke then announced the band would play a “cheesy cover song” and proceeded to do “Another Saturday Night.”

SIS: “Hey! I know this song!” (she’s notorious for knowing songs and messing up lyrics)
ME: “Me too! I love this song! But wait…it’s not cheesy…is it?”

Grand Archives - Another Saturday Night

At that point I didn’t care anymore. The entire room was singing along and it felt that the good indie-rock feeling everyone created had a chance to make it to the streets.

At this time last year, I was writing my master’s capstone on Scottish rock bands. I was hoping to never write about the Fratellis again, but here I am. At the time, I thought the Fratellis were going to be big, but the initial buzz after that iPod commercial seemed to die quickly and backlash followed (Los Campesinos! won’t even be your friend if you like the Fratellis). Then last week, they came out with what in my opinion is a brilliant sophomore album, Here We Stand, and played a sold out show at Webster Hall.

The Fratellis debut album, Costello Music, featured boozy singalongs about girls with catchy hooks. Here We Stand is a little more of the same, but more toned down. There are a few misses, like “Mistress Mabel,” the poor man’s “Chelsea Dagger,” but for the most part, the variety and maturity on the second album makes it superior.

At Webster Hall on Friday night, the crowd was pretty well mixed in age and gender. The venue had yet to fill up when openers the Airborne Toxic Event from Los Angeles took the stage, yet everyone in the front was already crowding together, trying to get as close to the stage as possible. The bright colored lighting made it hard to see the band.

The five-piece band plays indie rock infused with violin and a little bit of pretension. They sounded pretty good, but they played for far too long, probably close to an hour. I like to see opening acts because you never know when you’ll discover a great band, but I prefer the sets to be short enough to introduce me to the band but not too long that I get impatient for the band I actually came to see. That’s unfair, I know, but it’s just how I feel.

The Fratellis opened with “My Friend John,” one of my favorite songs on the new album, but it sounded off, the playing lazy. Earlier that day, they played an acoustic show at the Virgin Megastore (which many audience members were raving about, but I couldn’t attend, because I, you know, have a job), so maybe they were tired. But the concert got progressively better and towards the end, Jon admitted that he felt “shite” at the beginning and apologized that the first five songs didn’t sound great. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a band apologize for sounding bad, so that was pretty refreshing, even though it would have been better if they sounded awesome the whole time.

By this point, the 1,400-capacity venue was completely packed. The band did a good job of mixing up the set list with new and old, the hits and the more obscure songs (including “Cuntry Boys & City Girls,” which was not included on the American Costello Music). My friend and I were standing towards the front with all the other short girls near a large group of rather obnoxious drunk boys who were aggressively pushing everyone.

I know, it’s a concert, I should relax and have fun. I can understand jumping and dancing, but I really don’t understand inflicting pain on others. If you must push people around, at least confine it to the songs that lend itself to that behavior, such as “Chelsea Dagger.” Don’t do it during every song, even the slow acoustic ones. That’s just silly. At least there was a duo of high school boys who took it upon themselves to try and block the girls so they wouldn’t be knock around. I guess gentlemen like the Fratellis too.

The show closed all too quickly with “Milk and Money,” an out of character piano ballad which progresses into a rock-out session. As the band left the stage, makeshift stars lit up the background, which were as cheesy as the annoyingly blinding lights.

The first encore was just guitarist Jon singing my new favorite, “Baby Doll.” I never thought the singers of “Chelsea Dagger” could make my heart melt, but I guess I’m just a sucker for a guy and his guitar wearing a “Come Together” shirt with a peace sign. It would have been an intimate moment had those same guys not been singing along loudly and dancing around, which was pretty rude to the band.

Then the rest of the band joined him for the crowd pleasers “Flathead” and “Baby Fratelli.” Though the show felt much too short, it ended on a high note–Mince (the drummer) threw his drum sticks into the crowd and I actually caught one, a concert first.

Pittsburgh is notorious for never bringing good bands to town, but last month (May), OURS made their first appearance in years in the Steel City. The band, out of the New York City/Jersey area opened their headlining tour at Diesel on the city’s eclectic South Side in support of their latest release, Mercy… Dancing For The Death Of An Imaginary Enemy

I’ve been meaning to check these guys out since I first heard of them in 2000, but they never got close enough to Pittsburgh. Cleveland was a fair bet, but within days they had booked a show in my hometown, sparing me a road trip to the Mistake by the Lake and gas at $4.00 a gallon.

The band mix tender, falsetto vocals with rather dark themes of love lost and self-worth. Most of the guitar lines are washed with delay, giving the music a spacey sense of depth and atmosphere, even when the lines are simple.

The band opened with “Willing” from their new record, but soon threw the set-list to the wind as the rather thin crowd yelled requests at the band. Instead of being pompous and ignoring them or frustrated with a sparse room, the band took everything in stride and indulged the audience with their requests. The crowd was exceptionally supportive and sounded as if they were twice their size. And the band didn’t let them down, playing every song as if they were rocking a capacity crowd.

Having all of their records, I was familiar with their song style, but wasn’t sure how everything would come across live, especially vocally. Vocalist and chief songwriter Jimmy Gnecco’s voice is everything it is on their records and more live, a feat not often met in these days of bogus rock stars and studio magic. Every note was met with force and passion, and it wasn’t hard to tell that this guy meant it.

Gnecco effortlessly slips from soft, whispered falsetto to full-on, blood-curdling screams. The two guitarists, Locke (occasionally on keys) and Static, build walls of swirling distortion and rhythm while Race holds the bass line down and Pit Orbach moves the songs with the drums (yes, those are their professional names). Gnecco occasionally grabs an acoustic or electric for a few songs, but focuses mainly on his crushing vocals and eerily dominating stage presence.

On the track “Murder” from the latest release, Race grabbed a trumpet that was on stage and replicated the brass lines from the record. A really nice touch, and refreshing to see that they didn’t try to fake it with a recorded track.

Between songs, Gnecco explained that the nearly six-year lapse since their last release, 2002’s Precious, had been met with many battles. The band really wanted to capture what they do live on the record without being over-produced and maintaining their raw edge. It’s been a long, patient wait but Gnecco confessed that this is the record he has been wanting to make his whole life.

With the legendary Rick Rubin at the production helm, Gnecco says they took their time perfecting each track without outside pressure from label reps and time constraints from promotional ventures. They simply sat back and made sure everything was right by them. It definitely has paid off on “Mercy.”

Gnecco also told the crowd that they were still working songs out live since this was the very beginning of the tour. From my perspective, it didn’t seem that anyone was lost or struggling to find his part. Gnecco’s falsetto was flawless and he nailed every scream. Everything came across very tight and polished.

Actually, I would prefer a band take some liberties during their live show and explore a little bit. It’s much more exciting to me than listening to something that has been rehearsed and doesn’t take musical risks. Keep it a little rough and unpredictable. The whole experience is more live and organic that way, and he definitely has the band that can do it.

I was very interested to see if and how the band would perform “Black” from the new record. The song ends in a spoken tirade in which Gnecco calls out an unnamed aggressor for deceitfulness and taking advantage of sincerity. It worked great live and the sound guy did his part to make sure Gnecco’s low spoken growl was audible to everyone in the room.

Unfortunately, the night was rather brief as the band told the audience they had to be out by 9:30, after just an hour set and two brief openers. This seemed to be a shock to the band, but was all too understandable for me. Pittsburgh is just not up on culture and the times.

In a city absolutely dominated by hip-hop clubs, brawling no-necks, and ladies who get their fashion and lifestyle cues from the Hills, the city struggles to find any sort of original identity.

I can’t blame the club, though. They have to do what they can to make money, and live music is struggling in this town. So they book early shows and then clear the place out so the 40something divorced women in mini skirts and hoards of college kids can start filtering in to get their ears blown out by tired remixes.

Hey, at least Diesel is trying by keeping live music on the bill, but it’s a shame to see an extremely talented band get a crappy time slot and do dismal numbers. I’m getting off the subject here. Perhaps a topic for a later blog.

Ours finished up the set with “Live Again”, an explosive rock song that takes turns in and out of serenity and sonic destruction, augmented by an explosive drum pattern that builds and dies through the song.

With such a powerful tune, it was good to see that the performers didn’t do anything over the top. Absent were the cheesy rock stances and choreographed acrobatics that so often plague a live show. It was just five polished music veterans communicating their emotions to the audience through their music. Even Gnecco’s gyrating dancing toward the song’s finale was fluid and proper for such a dynamic ending.

But one of the biggest highlights of the show for me was when the band finished, they began packing up their own gear. Even with moderately popular bands, you rarely see the musicians humbly wrapping cables and carrying out amplifiers—and these guys are by no means up-and-comers. But they sucked it up and did it themselves with a little help. No grandiose stage exit or breaking of guitars. Just a very honest and sincere Thank-You to the crowd and a humble bow. I got the sense that they all were genuine people and not self-absorbed faux-rockers. They even hung around on stage afterwards to chat with fans and take pictures.

I’ve met and played with a lot of national touring bands over the years and it is rare to meet ones without egos bigger than their tour bus. I’m often disappointed by going to see my favorites bands and then finding out that they are a-holes in person. I’m glad that wasn’t the case this time.

The great Bonnaroo music festival is this weekend, meaning that hipsters, stoners and lucky bastards who could afford the tickets will be headed to Tennessee for a weekend of aural (and possibly sexual?) bliss.

But someone (or thing) is also headed toward the festival. It’s a musical beast that, in years past, has battled music fans and taken a giant goddamn shit on the great genre that is metal. I speak, of course, of Metallica.

(BTW: did you hear their latest dick move? They invited bloggers to a listening party of their new album, and then demanded told them to remove the reviews of said album off their blogs. First thought: they have a new album?)

Some are worried that Metallica’s inclusion in the festival will ruin it (others say the festival, despite Metallica’s involvement, is already on the way out in terms of being “cool”).

I came across an article today that listed the five reasons why Metallica would doom Bonnaroo. And while it’s funny, the list does make some good points (It’s also rumored that the band is behind the high gas prices too).

So is Bonnaroo on the outs? And is it Metallica’s fault?

I think Bonnaroo has peaked. it’s about that time that someone comes along to gut it or burn it alive. As for Metallica, I don’t know what’s going on with that band. I lost interest after the Napster war and haven’t looked back since. Oh and when Jason Newsted left, there was no hope of me going back.

Any thoughts on the actions of Metallica?