100 Shows Of 2010: The Round-up

When first I dreamed up this little folly that came to be known as the 100 Shows project, I couldn’t have imagined how very amazing (and challenging) it would be. I brushed off the looks given to me by my nearest and dearest, the ones insinuating I was a little wacky, and got ready to sink my teeth in. It began, after much planning in late January and early February, down in Richmond with my first show on a chilly night in March, and ended just two days before Christmas at the venerable Arlingtonian venue Iota (also on a rather chilly night, as luck would have it).

Now, some of you might go out this much all the time and think nothing of it, but for the rest of us, think of it thus: Over the course of ten months, I went out once every three nights on average. Yeah, it turned out to be a little crazy. But I tell you what, friends, I wouldn’t change a thing. I saw more ridiculously good live music than I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Of the shows I came and saw and reviewed, there wasn’t a bad one in the bunch. Not bad for 100 shows, eh?

So then I thought, well, now that it’s all done and dusted, I really should pick my favorite shows. The ladies and gentlemen will want to know. It was a torment to pick just ten from my hundred, but below are my most favorite shows of the entire project. They’re in no particular order, and stood out not necessarily as the best shows, but just the ones that I loved the most.

#56: A Place To Bury Strangers @ Rittenhouse Square (Philadelphia), 8/25/2010

#65: The Charlatans @ Black Cat, 9/9/2010

#88: The Dandy Warhols & Hopewell @ Ram’s Head Live (Baltimore), 11/9/2010

#13: Black Rebel Motorcycle Club @ 9:30 Club, 4/5/2010

#86: The Black Angels @ Theatre of Living Arts (Philadelphia), 11/6/2010

#32: The Brian Jonestown Massacre/The Young Sinclairs @ Theatre of Living Arts (Philadelphia), 6/8/2010

#71: James & Ed Harcourt @ 9:30 Club, 9/27/2010

#38: Ceremony @ U Street Music Hall, 6/17/2010

#84: The Phantom Band @ 9:30 Club, 11/1/2010

#79: Gary Numan @ Black Cat, 10/20/2010


I met some great people, saw a whole lot of great music, and have one heckadoo of a great time. In closing, I want to send out massive thanks to all the bands, PR folks, label folks, and management that have been so very open and supportive of this gargantuan little undertaking of mine. Y’all are the bestest, and I couldn’t have done it without you. Sloppy kisses to all, and to all a good night.

mp3: Telephone (live) (The Black Angels from Phosphene Dream)

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 - #98: Coasting @ Comet Ping Pong, 12/15/10

You know what happens when you assume, no? You make an ass of you and me. Well, friends, this is doubly true when it comes to going to shows. Don't ever, ever assume that you're right about the timing of a show, because sometimes you might just be wrong. Why the lecture on timeliness, you might wonder? It's because, sadly, yours truly had an unfortunate incident with timing lately. And I can say now with certainty that working late is sometimes not the best way to make timeliness happen for a show. I missed a whole lotta Coasting because of this itty bitty timing debacle, and I'm still bummed about it. However, what I saw was pretty daggum awesome. I suppose that serves as some small modicum of solace.

MINI RECAP: Coasting = Super Swell! Overall Score: B+

So like I said, I kinda missed a hefty portion of the Coasting set. Which is really too bad, because what I was hearing was totally making my night. They rock somethin' fierce, and it only takes two of 'em to make that killer noise of theirs. Fiona and Madison definitely have some skills. I was way digging on their smoky, sexy brand of surf rock meets film noir meets big bastard rock and roll. The vocals can be girl group sweet or bitchingly biting, and the guitars and drums follow suit. This, my little sweethearts, is one badass band. It was a whole lotta glorious noise, and I was black and blue from kicking myself about not witnessing the whole set. I shall clear my schedule for the next time, dangit.

Here's hoping the New Year sees Coasting getting back out there on the road. Once they've dug out from under all that snow, that is.

mp3: What You Want (Coasting - buy Coasting music HERE) (thanks to the radness of Neu Magazine for the songness)

100 Shows of 2010 - #97: S. Carey/White Hinterland @ Rock'n'Roll Hotel, 12/14/10

We've all got countless choices to make, each and every day. Some are pretty dang hard, while others are no-brainers. I made one of the latter decisions not long ago, when faced with the terribly sad news of the postponement of the Steve Mason show. I had two options: stay home and mope, or go out into the Baltic chill and see some pretty daggum good live music. Fear not, friends, common sense prevailed, and I was soon out and about enjoying an evening filled with good tunes by S. Carey and White Hinterland. Sometimes those changes of plan turn out to be a little bit of alright.

MINI RECAP: White Hinterland = Winsomely Haunting! S. Carey = Somberly Cuddly! Overall Score: B

Despite the slap-in-the-face cold of the evening, all was warm and cozy at the Rock'n'Roll Hotel when I arrived. I'd like to think White Hinterland had something to do with this. I must confess, when I first walked in I had to sort of test myself as to what year it was, because coming from the stage seemed to be a nouveau trip-hop sound (a trend repeated in several songs during the set). The beats were slow and hypnotic, trancelike and sultry and a perfect backdrop for the majorly haunting voice of Casey Dienel. Dienel's voice proved breathy, playful, come-hither, and forlorn all at once, sometimes even during the course of one song. An unexpected and awesome cover of Monica's "Don't Take It Personal" was given a smooth, silky treatment, and made for a great choice for the set. The music of White Hinterland is rather atmospheric, perfect for trying to warm up on such a bloody cold December evening.

Given the Bon Iver association, you'd expect Sean Carey (AKA S. Carey) and his band of friends to have a little bit of a rustic, woodsy sadness to them. Well, they definitely did. There was more to the band than that, though, which surprised and cheered me. Full of pretty gentleness, S. Carey could just as quickly build hulking, noisy crescendos with more than a little aggression. For his part, Carey's voice is nothing short of lovely, honey-thick and very magnetic. After a couple songs I felt much better about not seeing Steve Mason, and really began to enjoy their set. "Mothers" showed off the pervasive sweetness in the songs, as well as some glorious harmonizing. Their pitch, my friends, is pretty much perfect. And the sudden rocking out at the end of the song was quite a pleasant surprise. Sentimentality coursed through their songs, with no short supply of nostalgia and wistfulness. Forays into random instrumental meanderings were much appreciated. There was something rather charming about them, very honest.

Though I was (and still am) bummed not to see Mr. Mason, these two bands definitely helped ease the pain. From the almost stark beauty of White Hinterland to the lushness of S. Carey, it was a night well spent.

mp3: In The Dirt (S. Carey from All We Grow)

mp3: In The Stream (S. Carey from All We Grow)

100 Shows of 2010 - #96: Stornoway @ Black Cat, 12/5/10

I must confess it to be true, darlings, that my little heart goes all aflutter for those folksy bands that strum so very tenderly and sing so very sweetly (let's call it my Fanfarlo syndrome). So, naturally, I was deliriously delighted to venture out and see what Stornoway, the latest of such Brit folk exports, could do live and in person. As it happens, this group of Oxfordians and South Africans managed to warm the cockles of my cold, black heart. Well, maybe not totally. But they sure did manage to give it quite a thaw.

MINI RECAP: Stornoway = Splendidly Sweet! Overall Score: B+

The set began with a mournful, chilling intro courtesy one violin, precluding what was to come in a beautiful, yet rather sad way. Stornoway claims to be influenced by the sea, and you can definitely hear it in their music. Their moody, passionate folksiness conjured up images of small, coastal towns stark and lovely under endless drizzling grey skies, dark waves crashing along the craggy coastline for miles with churning relentlessness. "Boats and Trains" was a favorite, aching as it was, and for some reason reminding me of Van Morrison. I got a kick out of the fact that, like Elbow and their great song/album "Asleep In The Back", the jaunty, grand strut of "Beachcomber's Windowsill" wasn't on the debut record, though the record is in fact called Beachcomber's Windowsill. I loved the almost violent instrumentation, though of course the band was never anything but pretty.

"Fuel Up" was full of thos earnest, folktastic vocals that I suspect Stornoway will become known for. It struck me that there's something rather pure and unsullied about this band. And oh my, those harmonies were magic. During "I Saw You Blink" I had the thought that there seems to be something rather traditional about their songs, but given a trendy folk twist. But not in a put-on kinda way or anything. Even the way singer Brian Briggs addressed the crowd was endearing, a sort of hesitant shyness that was adorable and enchanting. After charmingly relaying a yarn about some Yorkshire folks that were stuck in a pub for 8 days and drank the place dry, the band launched into "On The Rocks", "a wintry song for you," quoth Briggs. And indeed, 'twas very wintry indeed, the chill of their seaside-inspired tales comign across all gorgeousness. "November Song" was probably my favorite song of the night, Briggs and his acoustic calling to mind trad folk of days of yore. It was quite a captivating moment in time.

They came, they saw, they folked it up. If you, like me, get the yen for some folktastic brilliance every now and then, friends, you might just want to check out the boys of Stornoway.

mp3: Fuel Up (Stornoway from Beachcomber's Windowsill)

100 Shows of 2010 - #95: The Antlers/The Luyas @ Black Cat, 12/4/10

I'm gonna operate under the assumption that everyone knows what an antler is. But a luya? Let alone multiple luyas? Kudos to you if you knew the answer without looking it up. But I digress, as I so often do. All you really need know about The Luyas is that they, like The Antlers with whom they played this here show, are splendid. Delightful. And downright fabulous. It is a lucky girl indeed who can go to a show and experience one great band. But two? I consider myself unfairly lucky on this one, friends. Yessiree.

MINI RECAP: The Luyas = Lovely Loves! The Antlers = Astounding Astounders! Overall Score: A

The Luyas was already raring to go by the time I got parked and got myself out of the cold. To have been greeted by such a glowing, ethereal noise was a beautiful thing indeed. I found them both captivating and extremely interesting, these Luyas. They managed to call to mind my love of British bands of yore with the jangle of the guitar, while maintaining a lovely innocence and naïveté with pretty, sweetly childlike lady vocals. Their songs were complex in arrangement and beautiful to hear. They charmed with banter, too, relaying a hilarious story about hearing a "lucky couple" through the wall of a hotel while on the road who, when finished, put on some post-coital gangsta rap. After brief interludes like that it was back to the enchantment of their dreamlike, haunting tunes. Throwing in the odd dash of funk and fuzz just made me like them even more. Their set was such a delight, full of music with a twinkle in its eye and a skip in its step. It was like listening to a fairytale. As written, perhaps, by Sophia Coppola, perhaps.

When last I saw The Antlers, it was the end of February and they were opening for Editors over there at the 9:30 Club. It was a mighty fine show, and I was mighty looking forward to seeing them headline at the mighty fine Black Cat. And yes, it was just as mighty fine as I had hoped. I loved their set immediately, with the slightly sinister fringes building into one heck of a swell of lovely noise. They strike me as very theatric, this band, with their gloomy, brooding tendencies (in addition to their collective proclivity for making serious noise). I'm thinking I must have kinda forgotten just how very good they were when I saw them with Editors, because they about knocked me over, so fantastic were they. At times, they chased epicness, and it was glorious. Even the songs that weren't quite as sturm und drang felt solemn, but with a little bit of sunshine peeking through the clouds. But really, the bite of intensity this band gets when breaking into a spasm of extra serious rocking out? Sublime, darlings. Sublime.

In conclusion, I can say but this, friends. Goodness gracious me.

mp3: Tiny Head (The Luyas [newish song] - buy debut Faker Death)

mp3: VCR (The xx Cover) (The Antlers - buy shit here) (thanks to Captain Obvious for a mighty fine covers mixtape!)

100 Shows of 2010 - #94: The Delta Spirit/Darker My Love @ The Ottobar, 11/29/10

I must confess, y'all, I sometimes don't pay Baltimore all that much attention when it comes to shows. Yes, it's only an hour or so away, and yes they have some fine venues up there...but sometimes it just slips my mind. What can I say. Obviously, I'll have to change my evil ways, cuz I almost missed the boat on one heck of a show. If it hadn't been for my partner in crime, the lovely Laura, I would have remained painfully unaware of the amazingness Baltimore had in store at the Ottobar, featuring the one and only Delta Spirit and the one and only (and LET faves!) Darker My Love. To say shame on me just doesn't quite resonate loudly enough. But it all worked out in the end. I came, I saw, I sonically swooned.

MINI RECAP: Darker My Love = Full of Awesome Surprises! The Delta Spirit = Full of Expected Awesome! Overall Score: B++

Darker My Love. What more can I say about this band? For a little while now they've been one of my favorite bands, and some of my favorite band people. Their brand of crazy California psych revival revelry puts me on Cloud 9. So naturally, I was thrilled when they took the stage. And, ladies and gentlemen, they proceeded to rock my world once more. Obviously, while recording new record Alive As You Are, the band locked themselves in the California desert with their collection of Byrds, Flying Burrito Brothers, Gram Parsons, and Crosby, Still, Nash & Young records. I say this because the sounds that came from that stage were quite a departure from records numbers 1 and 2. They strutted their bad sonic selves all over the place, heavy on the hot damn twang and purty harmonies. It was a direction I never would have expected, but then again, isn't it awesome when bands can throw you for a loop? It's one heck of a magical mystery tour, but I'm telling you now that Darker My Love might just be better than ever.

After catching my breath and washing it down with another beer, it was time for The Delta Spirit. When last I saw TDS, they were sassing it up on an opening slot for the beloved Nada Surf a couple years back. I was impressed back then, and was excited to see them do it all over again headlining their own show. And I tell you what. I wasn't disappointed. From the get-go they were saucing it up on that there stage, throwing out beaty, meaty riffs and tight drumming and entirely excellent little ditties galore. The crowd absolutely loved 'em, and I second the mob's opinion. Here's a band that can take you to real lovely, gentle places just as easily as they can get you dancing around without a care in the world. Let it not be said that The Delta Spirit can't get their rocks off, friends. Their jumbly, big sound was ever so delightful. And the way they fed off the crowd was so nice to see, the band seemed blissed out playing for the lively Baltimoreans. "This has been a really fun show for us," they said, and there's no doubt it was the truth. The crowd was attentive to each and every note. "People C'mon" was a crowd favorite, ragged and rough and hot diggity dog fantastic. Their set was so rowdy it was almost exhausting.

All in all, friends, this was one of the best shows I almost forgot about all year long. These two bands are great in their own right, but stick 'em together and you've got quite the golden ticket. But hey now. Don't take my word for it. Go see 'em for yourself, and just try to tell me I'm wrong.

mp3: Dear Author (Darker My Love from Alive As You Are)

mp3: Salt In The Wound (The Delta Spirit from History From Below) (courtesy Untitled Records)

100 Shows of 2010 - #93: The Ferocious Few @ 9:30 Club, 11/27/10

Sometimes I find myself way, way, way more excited about an opening band than a headliner. Either a band I'm totally digging or curious about gets added to a random major act's bill, or a band I'm totally digging or curious about is opening for some other indie band. It's not an everyday occurance, but it does happen quite a bit. And it happened recently, when I went to witness the live fury of those two dear San Franciscans Daniel and Francisco known to one and all as The Ferocious Few. Most of the packed house was quite possibly there specifically for the main event, Miss Cyndi Lauper (who Chris reviewed a few days ago), but yours truly was there for naught but the Few. And my friends, do they ever put on one heck of a rock&roll show.

MINI RECAP: The Ferocious Few = Wolfishly Fierce! Overall Score: B+

Sometimes touring with a major musical force must be a little bit of a challenge. After all, you've got to deal with the hordes of people who are attending this show solely for the purpose of seeing their beloved headliner, and have no interest whatsoever in whatsoever opening band is warming up on whatsoever evening. In such cases, the bands have to work terribly hard to turn heads and open ears. Luckily, I think The Ferocious Few was up to the challenge of winning over all of those 80s nostalgists (and their kids!), and I saw quite a few bobbing heads and attentive eyes directed their way during their (not nearly long enough!) set.

Many of you will know how much I loved (i.e. LOVED) the record Juices, the fine, fine filthy rock outing by these Ferocious Few. That raw, predatory straight-up rock of theirs sends shivers up my spine and then some. And mercy me, it did the same dang thing to me in the flesh. And then some. "Me And The Devil", one of my most favorite tracks off Juices, was rampantly on-edge, showing off the Few's (un)holy trinity of Francisco's impossibly perfect vocals, razor-sharp guitars, and Daniel's skin-lashing drumming. It's simple, but classic. Sometimes it does only take two to make a thing go very, very right. I was also particularly fond of "The San Francisco Song", just Francisco and his guitar, prettily-strummed and provoking of thought ("I got no desire to be a fly-by-night radio sensation").

I got one heck of a kick out of Francisco's introduction to the snarling "Gasoline & Cocaine", as he smirkingly called it a "song about sustainability." Daniel's arms and legs were furiously akimbo during this song in particular, giving him an almost Gumby-ian presence behind his kit as he smashed the drums with animalistic strikes. They closed it down with "Crazy Love", the perfect song for those ragged tinges in Francisco's tremendous yet tender voice, fierce and lonely all at once.

As good as they were, and believe you me little loves they were very good indeed, I can't wait to see these two live in a smaller venue, headlining in their own right. I can't even imagine the levels of awesome that might be reached.

mp3: Porcelain Doll (The Ferocious Few from Juices) (song from the most excellent Bay Bridged)

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 - #91: Spindrift @ Strange Matter, 11/21/10

Sometimes, friends, it is indeed funny how things work out. You might find yourself a little bummed out because your trip out of town to NYC fell through. But then, lo and behold, you discover that a band you've wanted to see for years will be playing not far from you. And all will be right with the universe. Lest you think this is all theoretical rambling, I assure you it's not. It happened not long ago, wouldn't you know. Yours truly was mourning the loss of a trek to New York City, when onto my radar blipped a band I think is nothing short of amazing: Spindrift. And not even a drive to and from Richmond on a work night was going to keep me from this show (also featuring pretty fine sets from Boney Loner, The Young Sinclairs, and The Diamond Center).

MINI RECAP: Spindrift = Sunbaked Bliss! Overall Score: A

I listen to Spindrift quite a bit. The Legend Of God's Gun to me is nouveau (spaghetti) Westernism at its absolute best. Much like what might happen should Ennio Morricone find himself strung out on various peyote-like subtances in the middle of the Joshua Tree National Forest. And so, as Spindrift took the stage, under a backdrop of a bleached blue Western sky and fog machine eminating just a touch of spooky atmosphere, I knew good things were in store. Singer/guitarist KP (Kirpatrick) Thomas looked the part, sporting a hat and an embroidered jacket that made me think of a dark side of the moon Gram Parsons. They began with "Girlz Booze Gunz", a slow rolling song filled with dusty deserts and faded mining towns. "Speak To The Wind", with its almost eerie jangle, had visions of jangling spurs, trails of sweat creeping down weathered faces, and itchy trigger fingers dancing through my head. I began to equate Spindrift as being the musical equivalent of Pioneer Town, in the deserts of California (if you've never been, go). Both more than a little quirky, unexpected, and yet breathtaking in their own ways. This song, and so many others, are spaghetti psych at its finest.

New song "Hellbound" came across like a train going full tilt towards the River Styx, a furious barn burner that made me imagine some down on his luck card shark selling his soul to Lucifer while this very tune was taking a turn on the player piano. It's as though this band has managed to capture the very essence of Western nostalgia and turn it on its ear into something nigh on magical. Some of the newer songs toned down the Western revivalism, but of course I loved them still. "Red Reflection" had a slink to it, but also a crazy sense of time slowed down as tumbleweeds roll by and the clouds float aimlessly, endlessly. This is the music you want playing when your car breaks down on some lonely desert highway, mirages shimmering on the baking blacktop. They ended with my most favorite Spindriftian nugget, the unfathomably awesome "Indian Run". The chanting and insanely frenzied pace of this song translates even better live than on record.

Spindrift, you sasparilla sweet cowboys and cowgirls, is a band that absolutely unquestionably without a doubt shouldn't be missed. They're incredibly talented, they play with something akin to an unholy possession, and the music they make might just blow your mind.

mp3: Speak To The Wind (Spindrift from The Legend Of God's Gun)

100 Shows of 2010 - #90: Liturgy @ Comet Ping Pong, 11/19/10

It is amazing sometimes what a change of scenery can do to the way one thinks about music. During my two and a half relatively awesome years living down in Richmond, capital city of the Commonwealth of Virginia, my musical parameters were expanded more than perhaps any other time in my music-loving life. While my time in Richmond was full of goodness, that one thing seems to take precedence over anything else: The Major Expansion of My Musical Sensibilities (yeah, it warrants all those caps, believe you me). Not only did I develop a deeper love and appreciation for important musical geniuses of the past, but so too did my cold black heart take a liking to a rather unexpected genre: Metal. After all, Richmond is a very metal city. Any given night of any given metal show, throngs of people will emerge to nod their heads and suck down can after can of PBR. The love that city has for that scene pulled me in, and while I'm still not ready to pledge full-on allegiance to the metal gods just yet, this proclivity towards warm fuzzy metal love meant I was way excited to see the much-buzzed about black metal glory of Liturgy as they ventured down from Gotham and played DC. My friends, it was hell on wheels. Which, as you might suspect, is a very, very good thing indeed.

MINI RECAP: Liturgy = Unholy Hellions! Overall Score: A

I knew, from the very first note, that this would be quite possibly one of the loudest sets I'd seen this year. I was equally excited by and horrified by this idea. The Richmond in me immediately loved them to pieces, full as they are of sonic abuses. They quite amusingly sent some kids fleeing from the room, whereas the litany of noise drew in others. "Fuck yeah," someone yelled after harrowingly heavy opening song "High Gold", and really, he got it in one.

I stood there, friends, totally enthralled, letting wave after vicious wave of fury and ferocity wash over me. During second song "Sun of Light" I decided this is a very, very good band. The way they can express acute agony and darkness through the furious slaughter of guitar riffs, or an anguished howl, is second to none. They were nothing short of overpowering. Unlike a lot of metal I've seen, though, there was a certain sense of control in their performance, and a definite sense of beauty somewhere there amongst the crushing blows of their musical assault. I'll liken it to, say, staring at a work of art you don't necessarily get. Jackson Pollock comes to mind. Some folks just don't see the beauty there in those splatters, but some of us do. And believe me when I say to you, friends, there is something very beautiful in the tortuous racket made by Liturgy.

The band seemed consumed by the task at hand at all times, stopping for only the briefest interaction with the crowd before resuming their mission. The songs were brutal, each and every one, but damned if I didn't love 'em all. In a way, I think they've raised the stakes. It's no longer just about how insanely, wake-the-dead loud you can be, or how you toss your long, flowing locks. These songs have purpose, drive and they made a delicate gal like me feel all a-twitter with fury. They killed their set seven ways to Sunday, and converted me in just six songs.

If you're even slightly intrigued by the dark arts of black metal, you owe it to yourself to check out a live Liturgy show. Hell, even if you hate metal, go see 'em. Just because.

mp3: Ecstatic Rite (WFMU Session) (Liturgy from Renihilation)

100 Shows of 2010 - #89: Twin Shadow @ Black Cat, 11/15/10

Of all the days of the week, Monday somehow requires good music most of all. Something with a little kick to it, of course. Something that feels a little like a party. No, make that a partay. And hey hey, my my, Twin Shadow was in town on a Monday. If anyone knows how to make a mundane Monday into a funtacular time, I'm pretty convinced it's them (well, George Lewis, Jr., & some amigos).

MINI RECAP: Twin Shadow = Cure For The Common Monday! Overall Score: B+

It was busy as can be down in the Black Cat backstage, patrons galore gathered to see what the buzz was all about. As soon as Twin Shadow began, the mystery was solved. This little conglomeration of good time kids knows how to show a gal a good time, that's for dang sure. Pleasingly all over the place sonically, the noisemakers pinged back and forth between crazy tropical-esque dance rock, Janet Jackson "Nasty Boys"-era spiciness, straight up infectiousness, and all sorts of synthy seduction. I mean, dancefloor dreamery? Shades of John Hughes flicks? Sass? You might could say I found it all rather enjoyable, to say the least.

The more I heard, the more I liked. And really, isn't that how it's supposed to go? I'd love to hear the Twin Shadow take on Nat King Cole's golden standard "Unforgettable", which I'm pretty sure was mentioned by the band during the set (unless I just made that up, in which case I might be a genius). I'm way smitten by the shimmer and feistiness of the overall affair, and would hazard a guess that the next time Twin Shadow comes back to town, it'll probably be somewhere with a much larger capacity.

I left the club with a smile on my face and sunshine on my mind. Go see Twin Shadow live whenever possible, y'all. Oh, and hey Europe. Twin Shadow is coming for you and your dancing shoes early next year! Be ready to drink and dance and have one humdinger of a time.

mp3: Slow (Twin Shadow from Forget)

100 Shows of 2010 - #88: The Dandy Warhols/Hopewell @ Ram's Head Live, 11/9/10

Over the course of this whole 100 shows undertaking I've tried rather hard not to double up on bands. I wanted to experience and cover as many different bands as humanly possible. But sometimes, well, I just can't resist. And who am I to turn down an invitation to what I already knew would be an amazing show? I'll tell you what, darlings, as good as the show was up there in Philly, this here Baltimore show blew it out of the water. So pardon me while I lather on for days about the excellence of this Dandy Warhols and Hopewell show, because it was fantastic with a capital fantastic.

MINI RECAP: Hopewell = Keeping Hope Alive! Dandy Warhols = Dandy As Candy! Overall Score: A

At first, Ram's Head Live seemed a strange, strange place for this show to take place. It's in this kind of surreal part of Baltimore, down by the Inner Harbor, that feels more like a Disney-fied Vegas than a place for indie bands of all shapes and sizes. But after this show, I don't know if it could have happened at any other venue in any other city. It was nothing short of one of a kind.

Up first, Hopewell. With the added atmosphere of some burning incense, they were immediately epic, just as they were in Philly and just as I would expect. The setlist was a carbon copy of the Electric Factory show, and yet everything sounded just a shade better here, a sentiment I extend not only to the bands but the crowd as well. The primal screaming that is "Over The Mountain" was more intense, the ferocity of "Trumpet For A Lung" more biting. Vocalist Jason Russo's smile, too, that emerges at times during certain notes of certain songs, seemed just a touch wider. In "Trumpet For A Lung", the soft glimpses of delicacy amidst the chaotic storm und drang of the murderous mess sounded quite possibly more glorious than I've ever heard. "We're working for you," sayeth Russo before the band ripped "Calcutta" to beautiful shreds for their final number. Their set was powerful, captivating, and pretty dang breathtaking. This, friends, if you haven't yet picked up on it, is a band you need to experience for yourselves. They'll show you darkness and they'll show you rays of blinding sunlight, and you'll love it all.

And speaking of loving it all, here come those Dandy Warhols. As with Hopewell, they too were infinitely more stupendous in Baltimore. They all also seemed in better humor than a couple of nights previous. Or perhaps, to quoth main Dandys man Courtney Taylor, they were feeling "zesty." I couldn't stop grinning the entire set, every song was a gem. Who doesn't love the breathy, stalker-lite vocals of the creepy "I Love You"? Or the bittersweet "The Last High"? Or the way Taylor can exude an air of total and utter indifference, in my mind second only to the foxy apathy of Blur's Alex James in the Britpop era? "Here's a zesty one for you," Taylor announced, before the band took on their biggun, "Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth". The back-to-back-to-back shimmy shake of "Shakin'" and "Horse Pills" and "Solid" got my motor running something fierce, and made me remember just how good a record Thirteen Tales From Urban Bohemia is. Buy it, y'all, unless of course you already know what's up.

During an impeccable rendition of "Boys Better" it hit me that Pete Holmstrom is an amazing, amazing guitarist. And it wasn't just because he can do the ole Pete Townshend windmill move to perfection. This man can straight up shred. He's got fancy guitars and works every one of them with immeasurable skill. "Good Morning" was flawless, the magic spell of fuzz winding and twisting me into a waking dream. Another treat was hearing the not at all oft-played "Cool As Kim Deal", another old school favorite of mine. While Zia McCabe and Brent "Fathead" DeBoer were gettin their bathroom on, Courtney strummed an acoustic version of "Every Day Should Be A Holiday", featuring a pretty fine singalong by we crowdspeople that put quite a smile on the face of Mr. Taylor-Taylor. Their 21-song salute of a set ended with "Country Leaver", which, if they had to stop playing, was a good way to go out. Sure, I would have loved to hear "Godless", or "Be-In", or "Hard-On For Jesus", but I can't fault what was played. Maybe next time they'll play for three hours instead of two...now there's an idea.

You would think that two brilliant sets by two incomparable bands would have been enough to call it a dandy of a night, but no, it somehow got better. Drinking next door at Mex well after the show ended, another treat was in store. Imagine, friends, an impromptu performance with sassy lass Zia on vocals (and shimmying), Courtney on drums, and Ralphie (host of the evening at Mex) on guitar. It was all rather silly, even before Brent took over guitar duties and a belligerently large man had to be dragged off the tiny stage by several Mex folks. But then, randomly, came Dick Valentine, of Electric Six fame. Don't ask me how, don't ask me why, but the cover of Def Leppard's "Hysteria" that this misfit band cooked up was fantastic. Driving home I asked myself if all that actually happened, and smiled when I could answer myself that yes, indeed it did. It was the only appropriate way to end the night, really.

The Dandy Warhols + Hopewell = guaranteed good goddam time. End of story.

mp3: Calcutta (Hopewell from Birds Of Appetite)

mp3: Genius (The Dandy Warhols from ...Rule OK)

100 Shows of 2010 - #87: The Dandy Warhols/Hopewell @ Electric Factory, 11/7/10

And so, dear friends, we come to part the second of my latest Philadelphia story, in which yours truly gets to take in the sonic reverie put forth by two most excellent bands. I've been a fan of both of these bands for quite a long while, dating especially far back with the headliners (can we say high school, anyone?!). To see both The Dandy Warhols and Hopewell under one roof, well, that's not something that happens everyday (though perhaps it should!), so naturally the mileage to Philadelphia was of little consequence. As was the whole having to be at work the next morning. The two different styles of these two bands worked gloriously together, and anyone who says otherwise is a damned liar. Whoever had the brilliant idea for these two bands to tour together should probably get a medal, at the very least. (And it should be noted that this show somehow got even better on night 2, but that's another story)

MINI RECAP: Hopewell = Heavenly! The Dandy Warhols = Hallelujah! Overall Score: B+

LET darlings Hopewell took to the Electric Factory's big kid stage (no lie, it's about a million feet off the ground, and probably the eliciter of many a sore neck by the end of the show) first, and I prepared for a grand set. Celebrating the release of a new live album (which, obviously, you should buy), Hopewell once more proved how special they are live. They can, and do, veer off in a multitude of directions during the course of a set, from the noisy, wailing washes of sound akin to the heyday of the Spacemen 3 to quirks of Mercury Rev proportions. But the bombast, the intricacy, and of course that voice are all unmistakably Hopewellian. They masterfully blend subtle pop intricacies with huge waves of sonic violence, and very often the result is a thing of beauty. Everything is done with understated flourish, even at their most tempestuous and unhinged this is a complicated band. The inclusion of a pair of older favorites, "Trumpet For A Lung" and "Calcutta" in their (too brief) set made me quite happy, and they steamrolled through bouth with much vim and vigor. I never get tired of seeing this band up close and in person, because it's almost as though they're a different band everytime. These gentlemen make a racket I do so verily enjoy. I'll close with the concise remark of one of the punters during the Hopewell set, because he got it in one: "Shit yeah!".

And then, it was time. Time for...The Dandy Warhols. Perhaps it's just because I've been a fan for such a long time, but I always feel a wee bit giddy seeing them live. Having first seen them live in the height of their new success, those golden days of the late 90s ago, I can't help but feel close to them. After all, this band has played no small part in influencing my musical tastes. The Dandys, too, are touring on the back of a new record, theirs being a retrospective of the Capitol (Records) Years. I couldn't wait to hear what they had up their collective sleeve, and the set did not disappoint, my loves. Pulling from all over the place, they included such delightful nuggets as "The Last High", "Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth", "Genius", "We Used To Be Friends", and "Horse Pills". And that's just the tip of the iceberg. And the inclusion of my all-time favorite Dandys song, "Good Morning", in all its' shimmery, fuzzy, slowburning glory was enough to make me smile for days. While it was a great set, it seemed to fall ever so slightly short of my expectations. But hey, nobody's perfect all the time. It was still a hell of a show, and any chance to see The Dandys is unmissable.

In closing, I must say that it is imperative, essential, and mucho importante that you see both of these bands live. If you get the chance to see them share a stage, well, I suggest you take it. Otherwise, just go see 'em. They'll both shake your damned peaches and your goddam tree, too.

mp3: Trumpet For A Lung (live) (Hopewell from Hopewell Live: Volume 1)

mp3: Minnesoter (The Dandy Warhols from The Dandy Warhols Come Down)

100 Shows of 2010 - #86: The Black Angels @ Theatre of Living Arts, 11/6/10

Those of you that pay even the slightest bit of attention to my concert-going are well aware that I am in no way averse to putting some serious mileage on my car in the name of rock and roll. And when serious rock and roll beckons, such as, say, the undeniable psych rock revivalists The Black Angels, well, I feel totally and utterly powerless against their tractorbeam and subsequently get behind the wheel. So to Philly I went, for a wild and wonderful weekend that was pretty dang awesome, thanks in no small part to the live display of sheer magnificence that was The Black Angels. I was totally in love with this band before this show, and was even more enamored, if that's even possible, afterwards. I was also definitely more deaf than before the show, but that's not really here nor there.

MINI RECAP: The Black Angels = Gravity Defying! Overall Score: A

Beneath a brain-bending backdrop of aural hallucination-inducing red and blue (basically, a giant blowup of their Phosphene Dream cover), the Angels began to play. I had, of course, been tremendously excited to see them again, but I didn't realize until they strolled onto the stage just how very excited I in fact was. Their monumental set began with the sinister strains of "You On The Run", from the most excellent Directions To See A Ghost. It took me about 3 seconds to get goosebumps. Once again unable to find my earplugs, I stood at the very back of the room, against the soundboard. And I still felt the bass go through me, head to toe. It was just raw enough, while still maintaining that epic scale on the record. Hot damn, hot damn, hot damn.

A menacing rendition of another favorite, "The Sniper At The Gates Of Heaven", was another early inclusion in the set. The metallic, slightly unhinged vocals of Alex Maas were in full bloom, adding infinitely to the glorious disquiet. In perhaps a moment of silliness, they followed that with new song "The Sniper", much less growling but still very dark. I must confess, I heard these new songs live in my head a dozen times, but they never managed to sound this good. The fierceness of the guitar, the unbridled aggression of it all. Sensational. I'd have to say, I had one gripe with their set. During "Yellow Elevator #2", the band omitted my favorite part of the song, and launched immediately into "Black Grease". Now, this would be fine, but I do so love that unexpectedly, transcendentally ephemeral floating of the vocals in the midst of what kinda sorta sounds almost like a pop song (or as close, perhaps, as The Black Angels get to a pop song). Actually, I had two gripes. The other being that they stopped playing.

The band did a great job of mixing up the set and including greatness from each and every record. "Bad Vibrations" has rapidly turned into one of my most favorite Black Angels songs, so hearing the overpowering noise yet tightness of that song was a delight. The lull of the beginning gave way to an explosion of sonic savagery, and I hung on every note. The haunting swirl of "Phosphene Dream" filled every corner of the TLA. Maas once more proved himself a one of a kind singer, with that unholy howl of his creeping in among the controlled monotone. Another near-pop song, "Telephone", was next, its eerie dance vibe sending shivers up my spine. And while I hated to see their set end, they shut it down in the best, baddest, loudest way possible: A torturously noisy version of "Young Men Dead". With the sonic cadence akin to a forced march, it's no wonder that video game company picked this song to soundtrack their ad.

Now, it's no secret that my love for this band probably colors my opinion of them. But dangit, if you were at this show and didn't feel the earth move, even just a little, well I have no clue what the heckadoo is wrong with you. Maybe it's the sting of $7 PRB tallboys (really, Philly?!). Bottom line, my friends, is that this band is one of the best live bands around. Period. End of discussion.

mp3: Telephone (The Black Angels from Phosphene Dream)

100 Shows of 2010 - #85: Terribly Good #1 Starring The Loom, SEAS, Boy Without God & Sister Ex @ Velvet Lounge, 11/5/10

November. Oft looked upon as a cheerless, depressing, overwhelmingly blah kinda month, I'd say the poor thirty not-October, not-December days get a bad rap. As far as I'm concerned, there's been a whole lot of awesome happening in November thus far, and it's only gonna get better. One of these moments of superfabulousness happened when yours truly aided and abetted one rather fantastic little rock and roll show over at the Velvet Lounge. There was rock. There was twang. There was folking it up. I'd like to think all and sundry had as daggum a good time as I did, because I was quite pleased with the night. Look for us to get up to more gig mischief in the future. But for now, here's how things went down.

MINI RECAP: Sister Ex = Rocked It! Boy Without God = Smoked It! SEAS = Killed It! The Loom = Burned It! Overall Score: A

Sadly, I didn't get to see much of the Sister Ex set. But the little I did see was rather promising. Taking cues from all things loud and snarling, the band ripped through their songs, anchored by the slightly metallic sneer of vocalist Claudia Neuman. If your ears are a fan of serious rock, well, you might be interested in this here band.

Things started to get seriously wicked awesome next, as Bostonians Boy Without God did their thing. A very, very interesting mix of placid noise, raw nerve lyrics, and the occasional ambling and way expansive instrumental, BWG most certainly showed the crowd a darned good time. I found myself very intrigued indeed by their jangly mess of sound, and heartily recommend them.

Third on the bill were locals (and LET pet) SEAS. Yeah, today I'm using all caps. Every time I see Ben Green and his co-conspirators live, I love them just a teensy bit more. The strummery of SEAS, along with hints of twang and whiffs of somewhere desolate and beautiful, cannot be matched. The best way to test whether I'm right is to get out there and get you some SEAS. Trust.

The nightcap was provided courtesy another pet band, this time hailing from the land of the Brooklyners, The Loom. Their Appalachia-by-way-of-Metropolis sound gets me every time. The band makes a noise that is intimate and comfortable, despite being intricate, much the way a fireside gathering in the dead of a Northeastern winter can be. The first time I saw them was no fluke. This band is the real deal, y'all.

I had an absolute blast working on this show, and just want to quickly thank the bands and everyone who came out to spend their Friday night with us. We'll all have to do this again sometime. And in the meantime, give these bands some love, y'all.

mp3: Valley Of The Fevers (Alternate) (SEAS from Now My Home Is a Beech Tree)

mp3: Song For The Winter Sun (The Loom from the forthcoming Teeth)

100 Shows of 2010 - #84: The Phantom Band @ 9:30 Club, 11/1/10

Of all the shows I've been totally excited about this year, there's one show that stands alone thus far as my most highly-anticipated show of the year. That, friends, would be those deliriously delightful Scots of The Phantom Band, otherwise known as the apples of mine eye. Ever since yours truly first heard the siren song of their record Checkmate Savage, I was in smit with their rugged, weird, glorious noise. So it was only natural for me to want to see the fantasticalness of those songs in the flesh. I probably would have been crushed beyond salvaging if the boys had been anything other than as wonderful as I had hoped. Thankfully, they were amazing.

MINI RECAP: The Phantom Band = Ya Dancer! Overall Score: A

They might have been the first band of the night, ladies and gentlemen, but as good as both Plants & Animals and Frightened Rabbit were, and they were very very good, this show was all about The Phantom Band, at least as far as I'm concerned. Their set was superb from the very beginning, putting forth as they did an astonishing rendition of "Throwing Bones" that sounded inescapably loud and haunting and just plain wonderful. Truth be told, I was there for the Checkmate Savage stuff, but it was rather interesting to get an earful of the offerings from sophomore record The Wants (don't worry, I'm sure I'll foam at the mouth about it soon). The new songs were rather a departure from the older, and took the band out of the glens and into the dancehalls. The darkness of their overall sound with some quite danceable beats made for one hell of a juxtaposition.

One of the stratospheric highs of the set came when the band launched into "Folk Song Oblivion", my second favorite of all Phantom Band songs. The sound, which ambles and rambles anyway, seemed even bigger yet even more stark than on record. Your guess is as good as mine, friends. However possible, it was magic. They have a way, much like British Sea Power to whom I think they are distantly related, sonically-speaking, of incorporating, intentionally or not, the natural landscapes of their motherland into their music. They can be terrifying, enthralling, and beautiful, and oftentimes all at once. My one complaint, albeit a minor one, was the omission of my absolute favorite song "Halfhound" from the set. Next time, please, lads.

I'm just gonna go ahead and state definitively that The Phantom Band is one of the best live bands around. They are louder, they are much more interesting, and they are inherently more charming than about 95% of bands out there. So do yourself a favor and embrace the brogue. You'll be ever so pleased you did.

mp3: Walls (The Phantom Band from The Wants)

mp3: Folk Song Oblivion (The Phantom Band from Checkmate Savage)

100 Shows of 2010 - #83: Local Natives @ 9:30 Club, 10/28/10

I tell you what, y'all. The day of the Local Natives show was pretty craptastic, which made it all the more imperative that my soul be soothed by the most excellent sonic splendor of Local Natives. I realize it's a heavy burden to place such an emotional crutch on a traveling band, but I was fairly sure Local Natives could handle the pressure. After all, this is a band that's made the leap from DC's smaller venues to the legendary 9:30 Club in a matter of months. The sold out crowd was abuzz with anticipation, and we all waited to see just how much the seriously amazing (on record) band could bring it in person. The answer, of course, was a whole heck of a lot. Witness, my friends, live musical awesomeness.

MINI RECAP: Local Natives = Lusciously Noisy! Overall Score: A

Striding out to David Bowie's "Modern Love", the band worked the crowd into a frothy lather of love from the word go. The band was, inconceivably, better live than on record. From the ferocious feistiness, rollicking rollers, and big badness, Local Natives was nigh on brilliant. A cover of the Talking Heads track "Warning Sign" proved a good move, with the prettiness of the Natives adding new dimensions to the oft abrasive Heads. When it came to their own songs, the band at times gave me chills. "Wide Eyes" was particularly stunning, verging on haunting as the notes soared and filled every molecule of the room (well, every molecule that wasn't already crammed with people). It was at this moment that someone standing near me opined, "They're not bad," and I'd venture to say that's one of the biggest understatements of the year.

"Shapeshifter" was another goosebump-inducer, while slightly less china-delicate than on Gorilla Manor it was still glorious, a hazy swirl of loveliness. For some reason, at times I found myself thinking of that Kings of Convenience record, Quiet is the New Loud, and how Local Natives kinda turns that sentiment on its ear, seeing as they can somehow do both simultaneously and quite splendidly.

I'll say this, whatever voodoo those boys do got me feeling all better. My shitty day instantly became a thing of the past, lost in the ether, as those sunny sounds took hold of my brain. Local Natives is definitely proof that some fine live music can heal your soul.

mp3: Wide Eyes (Local Natives from Gorilla Manor)

100 Shows of 2010 - #82: Die Antwoord/Rye Rye @ 9:30 Club, 10/27/10

Some of you quite very possibly remember a little band called the KLF. They came from Britain, and they got the kids movin' and groovin' with their big bastard songs. They reached rather stratospheric heights of popularity, and even went as far as to burn one million pounds, just because, well, they could. Turns out, it was all a big joke. Fast forward to now and we have perhaps another example of the joke band phenomena. When it comes to South African duo Die Antwoord, one must ask "are they or aren't they" when it comes to being legit. Bona fide bandness aside, one thing probably can't be disputed. Seeing Die Antwoord live is a pretty amusing and entertaining way to spend an evening.

MINI RECAP: Rye Rye = For Real! Die Antwoord = Who Cares! Overall Score: B+

Ok, so you can totally question whether Die Antwoord is for real or not. However, this question most certainly cannot be asked of Miss Rye Rye. No sir. No way. No how. This lady is all sorts of for real. I mean, anyone who brings along three strapping, shirtless fly boy dancers cannot possibly be anything other than straight up For Real. From the giant mega beats and seriously funked up grooves to the early 90s nod of the dancers (including Lady Rye Rye herself, let it not be said that chickadee doesn't work hard up on that stage), her set was mostly killer, very little filler. You can see why MIA is a fan of hers, what with the sassy lyrics and intrepid dance moves. I was beyond impressed by this girl, y'all. Hot damn.

Die Antwoord, oh Die Antwoord. Are you faking it? I have to say, I probably am closer to believing in their KLF-ness than their legitness. But that begs a question of its own: Does that even matter? When it comes to being straight up entertained, Die Antwoord, faux or no, get the job done. Their DJ, especially, impressed me. Behind that silly ape mask is a man (or large lady) who knows how to lay down some bitchin beats. The dastardly duo out front, too, know how to work a crowd. The pauses between some songs were too long and gaping, but the banter and the overall stage presence were pretty fine overall. And they worked the rather large crowd into quite a lather. They seem to be obsessed with ninjas, though, but who doesn't like a good ninja every now and then? Perhaps Die Antwoord does have a case of the KLFs, but perhaps sometimes it's good to have a giggle at the sillier side of the music industry. And hey, if they're totally serious, well, that's also pretty funny.

I wasn't expecting too much out of this night, for some reason, but I have to say I had a really good time. On the one hand, Miss Rye Rye threw down some serious good times, and on the other hand, well, there was the tomfoolery of Die Antwoord. And I had a smile on my face all night.

mp3: Enter The Ninja (Die Antwoord from $O$)