100 Shows of 2010 - #100: Hoots & Hellmouth @ Iota, 12/23/10

This, my little woolly lambs, was one heck of a bittersweet evening. Oh, sure, I was thrilled to pieces to finally be seeing those feisty Philadelphians Hoots & Hellmouth in the fleshy liveness, but there was a big part of me that felt more than a little bummed out that this big bad mamma jamma of a showstravaganza had (finally) come to a close. However, there appears to be no better cure for the End of Big Ole Feature Blues than those Hoots & Hellmouth gents. They sure do know how to show a gal a good time, and then some.

MINI RECAP: Hoots & Hellmouth = Honkin' & A-tonkin'! Overall Score: B+

I've wanted to see Hoots & Hellmouth for many a moon, yet somehow those pesky stars had never managed to align. Finally, though, I got to see this self-proclaimed "new music for old souls," and I'll tell y'all what, it was a mighty fine time. They were the perfect band to finish off with, infectious from the start and full of goodness gracious good times. I dug the clear, warmly enveloping vocals, the captivatingly kicky stomp, and of course, that hearty dose of sass they brought down from Philly. "You and All of Us," for example, was nigh on rollicking, full of rootsy twangy fierceness, getting the bodies moving with their appealing and unavoidable throwdown.

My toe kept (involuntarily) tapping all night as the band played song after glorious song. My frown quickly vanished, thanks to this seriously solid band with both musical chops and endearing personlities in spades. Bless their hearts, they sure did play with some exuberance, too. "Root of the Industry" kept the kids a-dancin', and kept my foot a-tappin'. "Returning In Pieces," a newish song they're tweaking, was maybe my favorite of the night, with a misty, almost delicate intro and vocals nearing gentleness. The song got bigger and better, and it really was just lovely. I can't wait to hear that on a record. The firecracker that is "Watch Your Mouth" got some hootin' and hollerin' from the crowd, and was full of swagger. Talk about a romper stomper.

Having seem them and enjoyed them, friends, I can say with no small modicum of confidence that for a good time, you need only to call Hoots & Hellmouth.

mp3: Known For Possession (Hoots & Hellmouth from The Holy Open Secret) (Muchas gracias to the mucho awesome The Wheel's Still In Spin for the songage)

100 Shows of 2010 - #99: Vandaveer/Jonathan Vassar & The Speckled Bird @ Iota, 12/19/10

There are nights when one has no idea what to expect. Other nights, you're pretty sure you're on the pulse of what might could very well happen. But on rare instances, my beloveds, you know what you're in for. And the very knowing makes you excited from your head to your toes. I was pretty dang excited the night of this here show, because if there is one thing I know, it's that Vandaveer cannot and will not disappoint (and neither, for that matter, will Jonathan Vassar & The Speckled Bird). I won't beat around the bush here, my friends. This was one of my favorite shows of the whole entire 100 Shows project, and gather round as I tell you why.

MINI RECAP: Jonathan Vassar & The Speckled Bird = Down Home Darlins! Vandaveer = Singing in Heavenly Peace! Overall Score: A

Y'all know how it goes, right? You live in a city and keep hearing about a certain band yet you never manage to get your shit together enough to make the acquaintance of said band. Thus is the sad tale of my stint in Richmond and Jonathan Vassar & The Speckled Bird. Boatloads of my Richmond friends raved about 'em, and I left the city without even listening. Friends, I was a fool. This band has a flat-out gorgeous sound, rich with the timbre of the beautiful Virginia countryside and awash with twists and turns of folksy delights. They've got all the banjo, all the accordian, and all the fantastic folksiness you could possibly needs. Vassar's voice is as pure as a starry country evening sky, and I dare say I now love this band to bits.

Another band I love to bits also happened to be playing, that being the one-two vocal knockout punch of Mark and Rose, better known as Vandaveer (ok, so on many songs they were a one-two-three punch, courtesy of Tom from These United States pulling some guitar duty). Now listen up, y'all. I've heard a lot of singers in a whole lot of bands, but there are naught but a handful who can hold a candle to either Mark or Rose, let alone the two of them together. Rose's sweet, rich breathiness plays a wonderful foil to Mark's warm, quite possibly destined for greatness tones. I didn't let that festive kelly green sweater and red shirt fool me for a second: these two mean serious musical business. They had me good and mesmerized all night, be it the two of them by their lonesomes with an acoustic guitar, or joined by Tom with the electric or the slide. Charming and instantly likeable, the band bantered throughout the night, Mark zinging Tom at one point by proclaiming, "This song is absolutely not about you, Tom, though it is called 'Lost Cause,'" a dig which caused much chuckling amongst the audience.

But above all, it was the songs that made the night. I seriously had chills, y'all. This is one heck of a band, let me just tell you. The inclusion of some Christmas classics ("Silver Bells", "Silent Night", "Blue Christmas" and "Little Drummer Boy") added to the special vibe of the show, which already felt as warm and cozy as if it was in somebody's family room instead of Iota. Suffice it to say, Vandaveer is nigh on the cream of the crop, not just locally, but worlddangwide.

Both of these bands deserve your immediate attention. Go forth and prepare to be wowed, my lovelies.

mp3: Auld Lang Syne (Vandaveer from the FREE Xmas EP)

100 Shows of 2010 - #92: Leon Russell @ The State Theatre, 11/24/10

Thanks to a series of unfortunate events and cruel happenstance, I was convinced I would never ever get to see the legendary Leon Russell in the bearded flesh. Even in the days and weeks leading up to his show at The State, I was convinced some freaky fluke would keep me away from the show. Thankfully, however, the third-ish time (or maybe the fourth) was the charm. And in the Falls Church venue, I found myself a part of a lusty, appreciative, good-time crowd, eating up every note that Russell and his band laid down. The wait, though long, was worth it.

MINI RECAP: Leon Russell = Snow White Hot! Overall Score: B+

A fondness for Leon Russell (among other glorious music of the 60s and 70s) is one thing I can attribute to a former paramour of mine, and for that I'll be forever thankful. Russell's website, modest though it isn't, says it best: "Leon Russell is a legend and perhaps the most accomplished and versatile musician in the history of rock'n'roll." Truth. Oh, and let's not forget that beard. I'd say that's legendary in its own right. The crowd at The State was impatient, hootin' and hollerin' and chanting "Leon, Leon" in attempts to lure their favorite heavily-whiskered gentleman to the stage. It eventually worked, and the good times started as soon as Leon took his spot behind his keyboard.

Along with his four-man backing band, including the rather noteworthy guitarist Chris Simmons (who rocked a mean guitar and an even meaner retro-styled suit of either velour or corduroy), Russell showed his adoring public one heck of a time, starting with a combo pairing of crucial covers, "Jumpin' Jack Flash" and "Papa Was A Rolling Stone". Both were tight and rambunctious, adding Russell's own soulful, twangy Oklahoma spin to the Stones and Motown classics. I was pretty much standing there like an awe-struck bump on a log, so impressed was I by the golden glory that was emanating from the stage. And that voice...that silken, bell-loud, honeyed rumble of a voice that is Leon Russell's alone. The band's take on "Wild Horses", sped up, jaunty, but still bursting at the heartstrings with emotion was nothing short of amazing.

"How y'all doin," Russell asked at one point, taking a breather from getting the crowd all riled up and dancing, and was greeted with the reply from somewhere deep in the audience of "Elton doesn't deserve you!" Truth.

It took a whole lot longer than I ever thought, but seeing Leon Russell was a treat. He's still on tour, so I recommend getting out there to see him wherever you can. He truly is a legend. Go pay homage.

mp3: This Masquerade (Leon Russell from Carney) (song courtesy the most excellent Noise Narcs)

100 Shows of 2010 - #80: The Last Monarchs/Small Mountain Bear @ Busboys and Poets, 10/21/10

Shirlington, o Shirlington. The place I remember as being a small, not-too-crowded weekend movie oasis just off I-395 on the way to DC in the middle of a whole lotta nothing as a kid has grown up into a burgeoning yuppie metropolis. Fancy restaurants, fancy condos, fancy shops...and not much parking to speak of (and parking decks full of resident parking). However, in one of those fancy (yet awesome) restaurants, there was a show. And while not fancy, this here show, it was plenty awesome. It was a night of good company and good music, and damned if that isn't the best kinda night to have.

MINI RECAP: Small Mountain Bear = Strummerific! The Last Monarchs = Strumtastic! Overall Score: B

My friend Heather swears up, down, and sideways by Small Mountain Bear, otherwise known as Will Read. Will is a recent transplant to NYC, gives music away for free on the internets, and has himself a pretty nice little voice. In it you will hear shades of Cat Stevens, along with tones reminiscent of one of my favorite voices, local and otherwise, Mister Justin Jones. The sound at Busboys & Poets was well-suited to Read's one-man setup, though not so much for The Last Monarchs' more expansive sound (see below). The cover of Michael Jackson's "Black or White" was an unexpected treat, Read's voice and acoustic lending a whole new direction to one of Jacko's biggest songs. Thanks to the great parking hunt I missed a fair chunk of the Small Mountain Bear set, but what I heard I liked. Quite a bit.

The Last Monarchs, hailing from Alexandria, made their way onto the small stage and proceeded to play one heck of a little set. As mentioned above, the sound nearly did them a disservice, as I couldn't quite make out what the band said between songs thanks to muddy mics, but apart from that (and the drums being just this shade of too loud on occasion) their full band lushness was treated fairly well. Reminiscent somewhat of an old Richmond favorite, Mermaid Skeletons, but livelier and with more attitude, The Last Monarchs made me wonder just how I'd managed to miss the boat on them thus far. After all, Alexandria is pretty much my backyard. At times a little twang crept in, which while not your typical DC sound, sure did sound good to me. And again, it must be noted that violins and having a shit ton of people in your band both seem to be the new black, but I'm definitely down with both. Especially in the same band. And they covered "Folsom Prison Blues", which sounded great and won me over for dang sure.

Overall, it was a darned fine evening's worth of entertainment. I give both bands the ole thumbs up. Locals, make sure to check out The Last Monarchs. New Yorkers, put Small Mountain Bear on your radar. Everyone else, well, you've been advised to give both a looksie. They're both worth your while.

mp3: The Story of My Life (Small Mountain Bear - go here to listen and support)

100 Shows of 2010 - #68: Blue Giant @ Iota, 9/23/10

It is perhaps one of the music fan's greatest fears. Band members of a band that you really, terribly love going off and getting all sideprojecty, with horrible results. However, not all sideprojects end in sonic catastrophe. Witnesseth one and all the glory of Blue Giant, the brainchild of Kevin & Anita Robinson, the purveyors of seriously splendid Left Coast tuneage in their vessel Viva Voce. But as we Geminis can attest, sometimes you just need a change. And the Robinsons branched out, opting for a bigger sound and a bigger band (hi, three extra members!). They landed at Iota one Thursday evening, sunshinery in tow as they opened for and then played backing band to Bobby Bare, Jr., and the whole thing was a delight from the word go.

MINI RECAP: Blue Giant = Blithely Great! Overall Score: B++

"Hi everybody," began Kevin Robinson, cheerful smile plastered under his beard, "we're Blue Giant from Portland, Oregon," proceeding thither to launch into the band's excellent set with the driving "Go On". Despite a slight imbalance in the sound (hello, slightly too much guitar), the song was mighty fine, in the vein of Viva Voce but with more emphasis on the song structure and the country meets pop of it all. The road-weary, boisterous stomp of "Wesley" was next, melodic and slightly torn and frayed.

"Target Heart" was a standout, lovely and dreamy with Kevin's voice emoting even more lovelorn plaintiveness than on record, and the lap steel adding immeasurable amounts of glorious wistfulness. For "Lonely Girl", Mrs. Robinson took her turn with lead vocals, singing with aplomb some modern day country gal blues. This is one impressive vocal couple, y'all. Quite possibly my favorite moment song-wise came when the band covered the classic Byrds song "I Wasn't Born To Follow". I thought instantly of Easy Rider, and motorcycle rides through a harsh, dusty desert. It got a little crazy up there with the rocking out, let me just say. O, the madcap instrumentalizationality of it!

And when I thought it couldn't get any better, they broke out with the irrepressible pair of "Run Rabbit Run" and "Blue Sunshine", the former jauntily hopping its way along the twangy path and the latter utterly impossible to ignore, what with all that mandolin madness going on. The set came to a close with the unexpectedly Beatles-esque "Clean The Clock", and I couldn't help but feel a little sad about the end of such a great set. Bobby Bare, Jr., was fantastic of course, but hells bells y'all. Blue Giant was nigh on stunning.

Sure, I was expecting nothing less than near-perfection, given how much I like Viva Voce and how good Viva Voce is live AND how good the Blue Giant record is (which, by the way, ought to be in your collection by now). But the band exceeded those lofty expectations of mine, bringing the mellowness of the West and some seriously sensational songs. It would behoove you, lovely loves of mine, to spend a little time warming your soul in front of the glowing embers of Blue Giant.

mp3: Blue Sunshine (Blue Giant from Blue Giant)

Breaking News! All DC, All The Time!

Yes, friends, the rumors they are true.

Yours truly is leaving the Richmond, VA office of LET and moving back to the northern reaches of the fair Commonwealth of Virginia. I won't be covering Richmond after January 31st, when I leave my wonderful (though leaky) apartment on Monument Avenue for the last time. This means that Chris and I will both be focusing on the DC metro area, so please bear that in mind as we move forward in 2010. Your favorite DC/RVA blog will now just be your favorite DC blog (we hope!).

People have asked me why I'm leaving Richmond. While I have found my 2-odd years here full of fun and excitement, I just missed the huge traffic jams and cranky politicos that DC offers in spades. Just kidding. I missed the abundance of music, mostly, and so I had no choice but to return.

In honor of my move back, here's my oh-so-very favorite song about DC, done by the splendid, divine, incomparable Magnetic Fields.

mp3: Washington DC (Buy)

Live Review: Broken Social Scene @ the State Theatre, October 22

Everybody's favorite Canadian indie rawkers (unless you're a joyless Fascist, I suppose) made their Falls Church debut last night to a "sold-out" crowd at the State Theater. At least, Kevin Drew said it was a sold-out house. It looked a little less than that to me. I have to admit, I've been telling people since I learned of this show that I thought it was a pretty weird venue to use, but who am I? All in attendance last night seemed to agree that the two hour-plus show was a damn good time had by all, so there you go.

Now, I typically don't see a lot of shows at State, but it's really more of who they typically book as opposed to anything else. Hell, the place is practically within walking distance of my front door, so one might think I'd patronize it far more often. Typically, though, the place seems to get older acts that have since faded from the glare of the limelight. Case in point, Hanson is their next "big" marquee act. Not to disparage their "MMMBop" goodness in the least, but I think I make my point. I can't tell if I like the joint or not, but I can definitely say I'm not thrilled with their ticketing system. Though their website claims this is about to change, tickets purchased on-line (which I would assume makes up the vast majority of their sales) only can be picked up at the club. As a result, last night at least, there was a line that wrapped around the front of the building. While this is great for BSS, I'm sure it's not so money for the hundred or so people outside freezing their asses off because the ticket takers aren't exactly "speedy." I was a bit more miffed when they couldn't locate my photo pass for the show, but they don't really have a photo policy there anyway, so it was kind of a moot point anyway.

More disturbing still, this caused me to miss all but the last song of opener, Land of Talk. Fortunately, the band showed up throughout BSS' set, so that was good. LoT did sound good for the few minutes I did get to hear, and I have to say, lead singer Liz Powell quite possibly has the most beautiful guitar I've ever seen. Her pipes and playing are none too shabby, either.

Now, if you've never been to a BSS show, well, you're missing out. I don't think there's any disagreement that You Forgot It In People is one of the top ten indie albums of the decade, at least, and they bring that kind of energy to the stage with them. Last night's line-up was down to eight. While there was no Leslie Feist or Amy Milan, Ms. Powell amply made up for their absences. Band stalwarts Kevin Drew, Brendan Canning and the Apostle of Hustle himself, Andrew Whiteman, were, however, there and in fine form. From the preponderance of facial hair, checkered plaid shirts and even a toque, it was easy to quickly discern we were in the presence of Canadian greatness. Being one-quarter Canuck myself (thanks, Grandpa!), I believe I have previously waxed rhapsodic on how Canadians are the greatest people on the planet. Whether or not you buy into that, it's harder still to disagree that for at least the better part of the past decade, our neighbors to the Great White North have been churning out some of the best damn indie rock on the planet. BSS, along with Arcade Fire, I imagine, lead the charge.

Now, the State offers plenty of good sight lines, and I was fortunate enough to get a prime spot right behind the sound board and have an unobstructed view for most of the show. I also got to see the sound guy's copy of the set list, so I can inform you that the show officially began with "Fuzz." This is not the name of a song. The band took the stage to little fanfare and, quite simply, turned on their instruments and let the feedback wash over the crowd. Throughout the course of the night, they hit the most beloved tracks from You Forgot... and the self-titled follow-up, including such songs as "Anthems for a 17-Year-Old Girl," "Fire Eye'd Boy," "Cause = Time," and "7/4 (Shoreline)." For those of you not in the know, BSS is a musical collective in the truest sense, maintaining a somewhat rotating line-up. The band even has a line of side records, "Broken Social Scene Presents," which essentially gives the individual artists a solo album of his/her own. I bring this up because the band is nothing if not magnanimous, as was evidenced by nearly every person on stage being given the opportunity to play at least one of his/her own solo tracks. The highlight of this might well have been The Happiness Project, wherein one of the members decided to record a bunch of his neighbors simply speaking and then deciding to play it back, on an instrument, as music. You probably had to be there to fully fathom this, but, trust me, it was money.

Now, I've got all the BSS CDs, as well as most everything from the Arts & Crafts label, but there were a handful of instrumental and solo jams I could not place. That's the thing about BSS. The stage looks like complete anarchy at any given time, with each performer seemingly facing a different direction, not even appearing to be tuned into their fellow band mates. However, the resulting cacophony is anything but; instead, each player adds a little bit to a beautifully juicy whole.

The show closed with "It's All Gonna Break," and the crowd ate it up. At the end of the set, BSS did a perfect job of reminding the people what it was they might have forgotten in the first place.

[photo by Chris Daly]

Live Review: Mike Doughty @ Birchmere, September 9

Less than 24 hours after returning from my honeymoon, I felt obligated to jump back into the thick of things for you, our adoring public, and attended Mike Doughty's "Question Jar" concert stop over at the Birchmere. For I believe the second time around, Mr. Doughty peppers his show essentially with a Q&A audience participation period between all the songs, wherein attendees are encouraged to submit questions into a, you guessed it, question jar, which he then answers throughout the duration. Accompanied by the phenomenal Andrew "Scrap" Livingston on various string instruments, the two played songs from all of Doughty's solo albums and more than a couple of tracks from his earlier days with the esteemed Soul Coughing. Shorn of locks, Doughty played everything from "Circles" to "Tremendous Brunettes", "Put It Down" to "Sunken Eyed Girl".

Now, I'm an unabashed fan and probably post way too much on his fan site (those of you who frequent said site, you can find me there under the oddbodkins moniker), but I'll have to admit, I've been a little less than blown away the past few times I've seen him live. For me, at least, the allure of a Mike Doughty show rests squarely on his intimacy with the crowd and unparalleled audience banter. The larger his ensemble has grown of late (such as opening for the Barenaked Ladies a couple of years back), the less compelling the performances have become. Thankfully, last night was a throwback to his earlier solo days (remember the stunning brilliance of Smofe + Smag?).

Mike joked easily and often with the crowd, as did Scrap, and it felt more like a performance by a good buddy in his kitchen than it did an "actual" concert. This is where the man's strengths lie, so it was quite the return to the glory days, as far as I was concerned. Mike and Scrap made it through the entire question jar, which ran the gamut from two requests for sex to what should people do if the Large Hadron Collider does inadvertently create a black hole that will destroy the earth. The duo answered all questions with the sense of humor that makes a Doughty show worth seeing. You see, catching MD is a lot like wearing your favorite flannel: while it may or may not be the most stylish apparel, it's comfy as hell and you love wearing it, plain and simple. To put it another way, when the mood is right, it's simply a perfect fit.

Sadly, I may be in the minority in this opinion, as I don't believe I've ever seen the Birchmere so empty. Management went so far as to quadrant off half the parking lot, and it didn't seem to imposition anyone at all. Still, their loss was the audience's gain, as M. Doughty reminded me why I got into his sound in the first place. Forget the "medium rock" sound of the past few albums, last night at the Birchmere was vintage Mike of the "small rock" genius.

Live Review: Buddy Guy @ the Birchmere, March 27

The good news is that Buddy Guy, one of the true geniuses of the blues game, still puts on a blistering show. The bad news is it's almost identical to the same show he's been putting on for years now. I used to work at Buddy Guy's Legends (his club) in Chicago many moons ago, so I've seen the guy literally dozens of times. Hell, I buy tickets to see him these days just because I figure I still owe him for all the booze and food I consumed for free more than a decade ago. Even on an off night, the man is going to blow your socks off, playing smoking guitar solos, quiet interludes and yakking it up with the audience like the best performers out there.

This time around, Buddy displayed more energy than I'd seen him have in a while. Decked in a blue track suit and white kangol hat, even the outfit was a departure from every time I've seen him over the years, foregoing his trademark overalls or polka dots. Now, the problem with the Buddy of late is he arguably takes his job as Ambassador of the Blues a bit too seriously. By this I mean the man literally did not finish one song during his entire hour and one half set. Instead, he played snippets of dozens of songs, most in the style of the original performers. Adding to my personal disappointment, he only played one track of his own, "Damn Right, I Got the Blues." He did run through some covers he's done on albums ("Fever"), but most everything else was by somebody else. He did one-time partner Junior Wells' "Hoodoo Man," John Lee Hooker's "Boom Boom," and Cream's "Strange Brew," amongst others. With each song, he commented on how radio doesn't play the blues anymore, so it was his mission to give a taste of all of it to the crowd. Of course, he did run through his repertoire of guitar tricks, playing behind his back, one-handed and going through the entire crowd with his wireless amp playing to damn near every individual in the room.

While Buddy's only 71, if you've never seen this master of the electric blues guitar, I can't stress enough that you should while you're still able. Too many of the greats have passed on already and there simply aren't too many legends left.