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.
One of the highlights of the evening was the title song from Brannan’s debut album, “goddamned,” a song he wrote when he visited the old city of Jerusalem. Honestly, I had chills during the performance. OK, so maybe it was because the place was freezing. A small price to pay for such a satisfying show.
Jay Brannan “goddamned”
*I didn’t take notes, so this may not be a precise quote, but I feel confident that it’s true to what she said.
There are Neutral Milk Hotel fans, like myself, who met the group too late to ever see Jeff Mangum live and must rely on modern conveniences like YouTube to help fill the void. Here’s a clip of Mangum, solo, performing the title track from his 1998 release “In the Aeroplane Over the Sea.”
Many consider the album to be the group’s best. Since then, Mangum has been a sort of spiritual presence in the music world, popping up around the world and on various albums. In 2001 he suffered a nervous breakdown and has been in the background ever since.
Enjoy the video. It’s a footage of a great musician we may never see prominently on stage again.
Tucked away in the back streets of London’s Marylebone area is a little hidden gem that’s home toome of the most interesting new singer-songwriters the city has to offer. The Perseverance Pub is a pretty unsuspecting place. Your standard English pub; grubby carpets and brown wall paper all included in the free entry.
Tonight (late November) the downstairs area is reserved for an old folks Xmas party and they seem to be enjoying all the free sherry & cucumber sandwiches they can. The upstairs’ venue would feel ram-packed with all of about 15 people in it. I’m one of about half that number tonight but it feels homely & inviting. Noise from the old folks downstairs aside, I’m ready for some introverted singer-songwriters to strut!
Cellar Door goes on stage, quite unassumingly; scratching away at guitar leads and whispering to each other which songs they should do first. When she’s asked how she’d best describe her music, by a slightly out of place looking compare, singer Aimee Grinter hushes “we like to let the music do the talking”. Tell it like it is.
It’s difficult to get sucked into acoustic music at times because it’s a hard listen and it requires all of your attention. Cellar Door don’t have that problem at all. Not for me at least. Beautiful vocal melodies and clever witty lyrics.
I’m happy to say this isn’t the usual “oh it hurts so bad” singer-songwriter rhetoric, the lyrics themselves are not what you might expect to hear over the technical guitar playing of Mike Brown. They’re very matter of fact, very English in all the best ways. Scenes about drinking in a car park with your friends when you’re too young to get into the pub are crossed with a sticking “you don’t need me like I need you.”
And it’s this crossing of styles that happens throughout their set that makes this duo work so well. Vocally, I’m reminded a little of Joni Mitchell & maybe also Gillian Welch. The guitar playing goes from ambient to a harsh blues in a stroke so I’m a little lost for comparisons in that sense. Anyway, don’t get stuck on these feeble comparisons. Go and listen to this group for yourself. They deserve your attention immediately.
I can’t help but wonder how outstanding this would sound with a band & some strings behind them. Although if they did that at the Perseverance Pub there wouldn’t be much space left in the pace for the audience!
A little over a year and a half ago, my girlfriend convinced me to go see Belle and Sebastian at the Wiltern. It didn’t take too much convincing. She’d made me a really good Belle and Sebastian mix a few months earlier and she offered to pay for my ticket. I was sold.
Sadly, the concert was sub-par. It wasn’t awful, but the live experience, just wasn’t a catalyst for any of the various emotions I hope to experience at a show. I wasn’t excited, energized, inspired, astounded, educated, or even amused. I didn’t gain a deeper appreciation for the band, wasn’t left wanting more, wasn’t even happy when they played an encore. I wrote Belle and Sebastian off as one of those very talented bands, that just sounds better on my car stereo then live in person.
Naturally, when my girlfriend asked me if I wanted to see them again a month later, I declined. They were playing at the Hollywood Bowl with the Los Angeles Philharmonic, but never having been to the Bowl or seen the Phil, those weren’t really selling points. She went without me and came back RAVING about the show. Apparently, all the verbs that I crave at a live show, the ones that were so readily absent at the Wiltern, were there in spades with the addition of one of the nation’s best orchestras. I kicked myself and vowed to catch the next rock band who teamed with The Phil, regardless of who they were. That band happened to be The Decemberists.
It was my first show at the Bowl and an experience I’ll never forget. I staggered up from the Hollywood and Highland parking structure (the cheapest and easiest place to park if you don’t mind walking a bit), past a sea of camera toting tourists hoping to be “discovered” as they took posed photos on Cuba Gooding Jr.’s urine soaked star on the Walk of Fame. I walked past fleabag hotels and $20 parking lots. Eventually, the tourists and cars and smog subsided, and as I entered the Bowl, I was surrounded by honest-to-god trees. The Bowl was an oasis of solitude in a desert of tourists and materialism. It’s also an amphitheater that seats 40,000 plus, one that lets you bring in picnic dinners and bottles of wine without any hassle.
And so we sat, eating our fancy cheeses and drinking our wine, and happily enjoying an average performance by Band of Horses and a truly inspired one from Andrew Bird. The latter was so good, I was convinced The Decemberists would have a tough time following. I was wrong.
They opened with, “The Crane Wife, Parts 1 and 2,” and when the Phil’s string section all hit one of the opening chords in unison and the big bassy French horn kicked in, I started laughing hysterically. I suddenly found myself experiencing all of the aforementioned verbs, all at once, in unison, coupled with another wonderful emotion: surprise.
It was surprising just how tight the band and orchestra were together, how full and layered a sound they could create. The energy sixty plus musicians could create on stage, coupled with the enthusiasm of the 40,000 or so in attendance, was a unique live musical experience for me. I’ve seen orchestras and been part of massive rock band audiences, but never at the same time. It’s a special combination.
So a few weeks later when Bright Eyes teamed up with the LA Phil, of course I was going to be there. And once again, I was anything but disappointed. That thick, complex, vibrant sound, tickled my ears and left me in hysterics a few more times. Even with lofty expectations and a similar experience recently under my belt, the sound constantly delighted and surprised me.
The discovery of the Hollywood Bowl and the LA Philharmonic (especially when teamed with a kick-ass rock band) was probably my greatest musical discovery of 2007—a year in which I was exposed to dozens of new bands and a handful of new genres. I consider myself a connoisseur of fine live music, one who’s not easily impressed. That being said, I have no trouble laying down a prediction for 2008: any band teamed with the LA Phil at the Hollywood Bowl will certainly evoke all the wonderful verbs that good life music should.
We packed up our piping hot, fresh out of the oven, cheeseburger puffs to eat in the car so we wouldn’t miss Regina Spektor at the Orpheum Theatre in downtown Phoenix. When we arrived we had a few burgers left we gave to a friendly homeless fellow adjacent to our parking spot.
I haven’t been to the Orpheum before. It is quite a place, not the standard beer splattered dark club I am used to.
Regina Spektor is a singer/songwriter/pianist born in Moscow and now resides in NYC. She came on stage and sang the first song A Capella, then went and tucked the piano bench under her dress and began to play.
She has an incredibly wide vocal range which produces many eclectic sounds such as clicks, growls and moans that I didn’t pick up on from listening to her album. She also mixed in some Russian sounding lyrics into a couple the songs she performed, unless I had too much to drink and was just imagining it. She even used a drumstick to tap on an adjacent chair at one point.
Regina had a great energy and mannerism. She sounded extremely courteous with a soft “thank you” after each song. I have only heard her most recent album so I didn’t recognize some of the songs she performed but they were all entertaining. Regina certainly doesn’t need the studio to sound good. She blew us away with her amazing live performance. This was an incredible show, always good to see something a little different.
Jump over to nyctaper for a quality recording of Regina’s entire October 16 stop at the Hammerstein Ballroom in NYC.
On an intimate stage in a small bar close to Boston University, Patrick Park (a native of Colorado) stepped up with his acoustic guitar and looked out to the crowd.
“Hey everybody. I’m Patrick Park. Hehe, yea.”
At first glance, you don’t expect much from this guy with his frat-boy looks and face that resembles baseball player (and former local hero) Johnny Damon. But thanks to a morbid obsession with the now-defunct TV show “The OC,” I knew of Park and his acoustic-guitar sounding ways (which in turn has helped me convince women who are way out of my league that I was “sensitive” and “introspective”).
Why did I watch the OC? The season reason I watch 90210 reruns: it’s ridiculous.
And if not for The OC picking up two of Park’s songs (”Something Pretty” and “Life is a Song”), he would probably still be on that street corner singing to a group of homeless hippies and one sick dog.
Instead he’s here, playing dark lounges that make picture/video taking impossible. Here he is performing “Something Pretty.”
You have to be in the mood for Park. He’s perfect for coffee houses, rainy days and getting laid-back indie-rock chics who wear red glasses in bed (too specific?).
Here’s the strange thing about Park: he attracts the different sects of society, turning his concerts into impromptu UN-esque meetings. There was the father and his teenage son, the couple 20-something couples scattered in the middle, the hipster-punks in the back (not as angry as regular punks, not as wimpy as regular hipsters), older people who look like professors, and former OC fans who hide their dirty, shameful secret from the world (we can smell our own).
They were all fans. The applause was always strong and you got the sense that everyone knew the songs, which is especially appropriate since Park’s newest release is called Everyone’s in Everyone and seems to enjoy the theme that, well, we’re all connected by something (pain, confusion, love for acoustic-guitar-based songs).
Some will say his songs sound the same (he does add a harmonica on some) while others will say it’s a tragedy he isn’t more popular and played on the radio.
The truth, as it usually does, lies in the middle. Park is a great add to your music collection, provided you enjoy the quieter moments in life or cheesy teen dramas on television (word is the guy who made the OC is coming out with Gossip Girl which will be just as bad. Don’t worry. I’m steering clear).
The show is hosted as part of XPN’s Free at Noon weekly series. Reservations for free spots to this one ran out pretty quickly on the web site. There’s no telling how the throngs of Ruf-ies will react to the the first-come, first-served entrance setup for the show. If enough fans are mowed down in the melee perhaps you could sneak in without a reservation. But I doubt it.
Rufus and Neko are playing an outdoor show together at the Mann Center in Philly later on the same day. The steep ticket cost completely killed my interest. But it’s sure to be a decent summer evening show if you like either act.
I’m not a fan of Rufus, or any of the Wainwrights really. But they seem to draw out Neko Case and that’s what counts to me. Neko stopped at the Trocadero in Philly in April 2006 with Martha Wainwright, Rufus’s sister, opening in support of the then-new Fox Confessor Brings the Flood album. Martha was a total yawner, while Neko got the crowd excited and played an energetic set. I’m expecting much the same next Friday.
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I guess I’ve been living under a short bus, because I didn’t discover 
