Jenny Lewis, den mother of millennial hippies and all bespeckled in her sherbert rainbow pantsuit, made a triumphant return to the Georgia Theatre this past Wednesday night. Why triumphant? As Lewis noted in between divinely delivered pop geodes, the last time she played Athens – or tried to – the Theatre was going through some fire troubles. “The marquee was a melty ‘Jenny Lewis’ for weeks,” she joked. But thank goodness GATH was still standing this time around, because man, what a show.
Despite the highly anticipated Voyager-themed stage set, one Lewis described as “bronies on acid,” she played a pretty even mix of new material, old solo songs, and Rilo Kiley classics. Of course she played “Portions For Foxes,” but she also dug up older stuff like “With Arms Outstretched” and “You Are What You Love.” Every song was met with more rapturous applause and girlish (for some, guyish) screaming than the last. The audience, a near sold-out crowd, was in one of two modes: transfixed or Beatlemania-ing. It was like seeing their hero transported them back to the first time one of Lewis’ songs spoke to their souls (probably somewhere around their first breakup, but that’s just a guess), which is exactly what great music is supposed to do: act as a time machine.
But the only person in the room even happier than the crowd was Lewis herself. Even though she tried to play coy by busting out her evident acting background – strutting around stage with her hand in her pocket like a self-important businessman, gingerly handing a fan a single rose, taking every opportunity to climb monitors like a conquering Athena. But eventually neither she nor her band could hide their sheer joy at every singing-along face. They were even good sports when humongous pink and blue balloons were unleashed, and certain audience members thought it apt to keep punching them onstage. When they closed out their pre-encore set with “A Better Son/Daughter,” it felt like a genuine call to arms for anyone going through a sea change (get it? Nautical puns?), and Lewis dedicated “Girl On Girl” to women in bands everywhere – a much appreciated dedication these days. After the band took their post-encore bows, it was implicitly clear that the Theatre’s comeback wasn’t official without a, er, metaphorical Jenny Lewis barnburner.
Bonus fun fact: Lewis’ favorite shoe store is Kum’s, for when she’s in need of mismatched Keds from the 1980’s.
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Ponce de Leon stage at Mac DeMarco. Photo by aLIVE Coverage.
“Incredible.” “Epic.” “Unreal lineup.” “Best festival I’ve ever been to.”
I heard all of these descriptions last weekend at Shaky Knees Festival, and I echoed them in spades. No complaints whatsoever.
For a festival that’s only in its third year, Shaky Knees is already topping my list of favorite fests.
The lineup was absurdly impressive. When it was announced back in January, I just stared at the screen in awe. On Day One, I saw Surfer Blood (Vinyl Video coming soon!), Haerts, Jukebox the Ghost, Tennis, The Kooks, Mac DeMarco, Manchester Orchestra, TV On The Radio, American Football, Brand New, the Pixies, and The Strokes! Seriously. That was just Day One.
Day One was a perfect lineup all day, but we really have to talk about The Strokes. They completely blew me away. We were late (as in on time for them to start, late finding a spot to stand) getting to their set, because High School Emily had to finally fulfill the need to see Brand New live (apparently I’m not too old to mosh yet), so we were pretty far back. Didn’t matter. They were absolutely amazing live. Playing for an hour and half – unheard of at a music festival – they kept it fresh and energetic the entire time. Every time I thought I had gotten my fill and they had covered every song I wanted to hear, they would pull out another classic, and I would start jumping up and down and screaming along with them again. From beginning to end, their show was a perfect setlist, excellent sound quality, and pure energy. I’m already ready to see them again.
Day Two was just as packed. I walked in and immediately got up to the front at Kevin Devine & the Goddamn Band. It was my fifth time seeing him and definitely not my last. His shows are bare, with no bells and whistles. No overblown light show. Simple and loud and without distraction, letting the music speak for itself. His stage banter is off the cuff and often self-deprecating, with no pretense whatsoever. Kevin is the most unassuming rockstar I’ve ever seen, but he’s a true rockstar. His calming sweet singing is quiet, hushing the whole room before the inevitable breakdown that always comes, and he brings out the gravely screams and the violent, spastic guitar solos. Barely noon, and I was already head banging.
Other highlights of the day included Speedy Ortiz (who, admittedly, could have worked on their stage presence a little), Viet Cong (bring the noise!), Palma Violets (one of the best of the entire weekend), Real Estate, The Devil Makes Three, The Black Lips, Built to Spill, Milky Chance, ZZ Ward, and, of course, Neutral Milk Hotel (yes, Avett Brothers headlined – sorry, just not my thing). NMH was a long time coming for me, and I nearly cried as they nostalgically made their way through every Aeroplane song I’ve been dying to hear live for 10 years (I’m a youngin).
By Day Three, I was fully sunburned (with a super weird tan-line – thank you, off-shoulder crop top), and my feet were killing me. Both problems I fully blame myself for, having forgotten sunscreen Day One and packed stupidly flat soled shoes. Fortunately for me, I’m a trooper. Plus, the instant I walked into the park that morning, I ran smack into Bethany from Best Coast who was gracious enough to pretend that she remembered me when I told her that I was one of the thousands of people she met for two minutes at South by Southwest. And then I immediately found $10 and bought some tacos with it. Hard to complain about anything after that morning.
The best of Day Three for me was, of course, my darling Best Coast, as well as Diamond Rugs and Ryan Adams. The Both was awesome and mellow live, though their awkward stage banter made it seem like they had never spent a moment together off-stage.
This year was flawless. I can’t think of a single aspect of the fest that wasn’t perfectly planned out, from the helpful staff/volunteers to the location to the layout of the app.
Let’s talk about the app for a minute actually. Best festival app I’ve ever used. Of course it had the usual – radio, lineup, schedule, etc. But the most helpful/genius parts were the food truck locator and the map – it’s a big park.
The festival producers had every base covered. Even if you didn’t have the app, they had your back when you walked in, handing you a pocket-sized booklet complete with schedule, late night show details, and yes, the map, outlining a masterfully laid out fest (I know this is starting to sound like I’m being paid by Shaky Knees publicists, but I swear I was just that impressed). Every problem they had last year – mainly, we just remember the lack of space – was solved with the location move to Central Park. The stages were perfectly spaced out so that you could get from show to show without feeling like you were trekking through the Dead Marshes on the way to Mount Doom but far enough away that no stage’s music interfered with another. Besides that, there would always be a good place to stand – thank Nature for tree shade.
Another huge – and literally refreshing – thing at this festival was the Free. Freaking. Water. It’s a revelation. Where five dollars is typically a generous bottle rate at fests, this is absolutely groundbreaking. Buy or bring a bottle, and you get unlimited refills throughout the fest. No more extreme dehydration. No more weighing the opportunity cost of a fun beer or smart water. Please let this be the new standard for festivals.
All in all, Shaky Knees completely nailed it. Amazing lineup. Excellent scheduling so hardly any of the bands I wanted to see overlapped. Great app that I actually used instead of making my own schedule. So many drink (and water) stations. One of the best festival experiences I have ever had. The lineup was enough, but the details and thought put into it put it over the top and made it effortless and stress-free for me. Again, please let this be the new standard for festivals.
Our traditional lists:
Top 10 Shows of Shaky Knees:
1. The Strokes
2. Neutral Milk Hotel
3. Diamond Rugs
4. Pixies
5. Palma Violets
6. Best Coast
7. Tame Impala
8. Mac DeMarco
9. Kevin Devine & the Goddamn Band
10. Brand New
Best discovery of the weekend: The Devil Makes Three
Last night, the 40 Watt hosted two newfangled Americana bands, firekid and Delta Spirit. Despite a sparse crowd and little fanfare, firekid – a two-piece Nashville group – delivered an interesting and varied set of reimagined roots music. Initially, they seemed like a group in the vein of Shy Girls, mixing whispered vocals with plucked guitar and hip hop beats. But it soon became clear that they were aiming for something bigger and not heard before. Singer/guitarist/sampling maestro Dillon Hodges and drummer Josh Kleppin combine traditional bluegrass and tex mex guitar picking – very skilled picking at that – with the hip hop beats of today’s top 40. The masterful guitar playing should come as no surprise, as Hodges won the National Guitar Championship at the age of 17, making him the second youngest person to ever do so. He struck as a contemporary of our own Sam Burchfield. Both traffic in blue-eyed soul that has clearly been practiced and perfected, and both are unabashed fans of big, poppy choruses, back porch cred be damned.
Hodges grew up in Muscle Shoals, Alabama, which any music fan worth their salt knows as the birthplace of much of our favorite soul and southern oldies, a creative hotbed in the middle of nowhere. The highlight of the set was a “song about hipsters,” as Hodges introduced it (the heavily hipster Watt crowd was nonplussed), chronicling a metal band who traded in axes for banjos when the winds of changes shifted. “Everybody’s chasin’ the Americana dream,” he deadpanned, slyly knocking groups like Mumford & Sons, whose recent aesthetic change from suspenders to leather jackets proves Hodges’ point. But ironically, despite the Alabaman and Nashvillian ethos firekid so clearly possesses, one could easily lump them in with the very same bro country/brograss movements that irk them.
The song about hipsters even seemed to defend bro country at one point, noting that if Hank Williams is spinning in his grave, it’s not due to what’s happening in Nashville. Any way you slice it, roots music is going through growing pains and identity crises out the wazoo these days, and firekid are a perfect example. The group’s Nashville relocation, and its old and new ways of doing things, were on full display in their songs like “Getaway Car” and “Lay By Me”. The group even covered pop hits like “Bang Bang” and “FourFiveSeconds”, albeit a little less powerfully than the songs’ originally tigresses – if you’re gonna cover Ariana or Rihanna, you’ve gotta COMMIT. Songs where Hodges’ guitar playing was front and center were miles ahead of the sample- and synth-laden ones – it didn’t help that the 40 Watt’s continuing sound problems drowned out his vocals and overpowered the drums. Fortunately, as Hodges revealed in our recent firekid interview, their upcoming record will heavily showcase his flatpicking. But no matter where your chronological preferences lie, this is quite literally a band like no other.
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Crowd during Reptar at Georgia Theatre. Photo by Chelsea Kornse
2015 has put another successful Slingshot Festival in the books. Despite hiccups here and there, this year’s festival drew unique and eclectic acts from around the world. Almost every band thanked the festival, and organizer Kai Riedl, for putting together such a fantastic offering, and I’d have to agree. But since we’re all bound by the physical impossibilities of linear time, my only regret is not seeing every act all at once. Where’s a Time-Turner when you need one, right?! Ba dum tsh. Anyways: it’s safe to say that another physical impossibility was having a bad time at any of these shows.
Thursday
Slingshot being a world-focused festival, it was more than appropriate to start things off with groups like Lassine Kouyate. Adam Klein, artist-about-town, has previously traveled to Mali for Peace Corps assignments and to visit friends he’s made there. A couple years ago he decided to go Graceland and record his own versions of traditional West African Mande roots music. He performed some of them at Hendershot’s as a six-piece, singing us songs about rebuilding after genocidal violence and the true price of blood diamonds.
Zarigani$. Photo by Hannah Pap RockiPeelander-Z. Photo by Ryan Myers
Japan Nite is a reliably supersonic experience, and the bands at Live Wire delivered. Zarigani$ was like a Japanese Death From Above 1979, throwing in random psychotic bass-tastic outbursts followed by ska influences and whistle playing. Somehow the vicious low-end punk still had a girly bounce, and even the dads in the crowd got into it. Peelander-Z were their usual colorful selves, playing duckpins and crowdsurfing with an ecstatic audience.
Andy Hull. Photo by Chelsea Kornse
Rounding out a packed first night was Andy Hull of Manchester Orchestra flying solo at the Theatre. Between him, the single guitar, a trained spotlight, and a small crowd, the show was almost uncomfortably intimate. Like a conversation with close friends, he was deeply touched by the fans who showed up – especially when a few requested the deep cut “Colly Strings.” Hull dug into his solo and Manchester Orchestra discographies in backwards chronological order, with passionate and bone-chilling results.
Nosaj Thing. Photo by Christopher Fodera
Meanwhile, DJs like Nosaj Thing and Clark blew minds at the 40 Watt with hypnotic dubstep beats and laser shows that would be enough to seize out a dog. The Watt’s disco ball has never looked better.
Friday
Dream Boat. Photo by Jordan Hampton
Vinyl Mag likes to party – this should be no surprise. So we hosted a couple showcases, the first being at Caledonia on Friday and featuring Dreamboat, Nightmare Air, and a very special Washed Out DJ set.
Dreamboat were one of many of E6 offshoots to play the festival, with John Fernandes on violin. The band’s cosmic pop, Henry VIII-esque chamber pop guitar licks, and vocal harmonies were enough to bliss out the crowd, but the colorful orb projected onto the group made it official: Dreamboat lives up to their name. Think Smoke Faeries with a little bit of U2 bombast thrown in, and you can get the idea – every song left the audience so entranced, we almost forgot to clap.
Nightmare Air. Photo by Hannah Pap Rocki
Up next were Nightmare Air, Dreamboat’s polar opposite. Proclaimed the ‘loudest band in L.A.’, their literally amp-busting amplitude woke up a lulled and contented crowd. Appropriately employing a smoke machine to create some nightmare air, their angular punk-and-stadium rock tunes stared into the void, like a Shiny Toy Guns played through Dinosaur Jr. volume levels.
Washed Out (DJ set). Photo by Hannah Pap Rocki
Finally, Washed Out’s Ernest Greene brought his earnestly (sorry) chill vibes to the small space. Greene combined house, dub, funk, and hazy psych plinks to keep the crowd bobbing. To make things get weird a bit, he brought an hourlong cinema smash featuring disturbing images of dissections and war propaganda and advertisements for companies like Standard Oil, Mazda, and Jell-O. Essentially it was like Mad Men word association on acid (so maybe just a day in the life of Roger Sterling), or a hyperspeed iSpy book for adults only.
Lord Fascinator. Photo by Mercedes Bleth
Over at the Theatre, Lord Fascinator opened things up with his freaky instrumental techno, requiring audience participation in the form of pulling people onstage and dressing them in body suits with attached face masks.
Reptar. Photo by Chelsea Kornse
Up next were Reptar, playing an album release show for their upcoming Joyful Noise Recordings offering Lurid Glow. Somehow the show wasn’t as packed as theirs usually are, but it was just as fun. They played classics like “Cable” and used a giant slingshot (HAH) to shoot t-shirts into the crowd.
Saturday
Saturday saw the continuation of Slingshot’s film contingent, with several movies screened at the Globe for free to all. William And The Windmill tells the amazing and heartwarming story of William Kamkwamba, a Malawian who, at the age of 19, used scrap metal and an outdated book to build his village a water-pumping windmill. Next up was a short called Brooklyn Farmer about the rooftop gardens of New York’s ~coolest~ neighborhood. (Between these first two films, one might get their faith in humanity’s future genuinely restored, which is kind of Slingshot’s whole deal.) Next up was Palimpsest, a quirky short about a house tuner who’s on call if you think your toaster and shower aren’t in the same key. Finally, the last full feature Buttercup Bill is a tense ‘psychosexual romance’ about love, obsession, jealousy, and what it means to be a soulmate.
Vinyl Mag continued to throw down with its second showcase, featuring more E6 greatness in Mind Brains and Nana Grizol. Mind Brains opened things up with impassioned, Circulatory System-aping psychedelic explorations of the soul. Naturally they too had some freaky videography to go along with the experimental sounds, mostly putting bizarre insect habits on display (even though I am deathly terrified of bugs, I watched for you, reader, I WATCHED FOR YOU).
Closing out the early evening, Nana Grizol put the poppier side of E6 on display, with songs that could fit in anywhere in the discography of the Apples In Stereo. They also gave Live Wire’s sound guy a shoutout, and it was well-deserved – sound quality has been spotty in Athens venues recently, but the new management at Live Wire clearly hired a pro.
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Nightmare Air pre-set. Photo by Matt Lief Anderson.
In our Stopover preview, we highlighted a bunch of locals acts worth making a point to check out. A number of them managed to stand out from the pack, even within the mix of touring acts. Cusses, Crazy Bag Lady, and Boy Harsher all pulled decidedly large crowds and delivered truly epic performances. The Furious Hooves label showcase was a hit as well, with fantastic performances from the likes of Black Water Choir, Heavy Boots, and Blackrune. But discounting those acts we’ve already spoken about, here are our top five picks from the weekend… some more expected than others.
The Prettiots
NYC-based all-girl trio The Prettiots play sweet and innocent-sounding art pop tunes about boys and heartbreak. With a drummer that looks straight-up like a baby doll and lead singer Kay Goldberg crooning away with her ukelele, it couldn’t get much sugary and cute, but they do it so damn well. All the members are under 25, and that may account for why Goldberg has such a fresh memory of all the boys that she dated in high school. They played an early evening set at Hang Fire Bar on Friday to a modest crowd, but no doubt these girls have bigger crowds and bigger stages in the near future.
Penicillin Baby
There will always be something to be said for some good rock music. And people will always appreciate it. Take note of Penicillin Baby, an up and coming group out of Nashville that push the boundaries of rock n roll with their fuzzed out psych pop tunes. Their energetic performance at Ampersand Friday evening was as crowded as I’ve ever seen the place, and speaks to the truth of my earlier statement. Grunge rock, surf rock, cosmic rock… call it what you will. We’ll just call it good.
Generationals
With arguably the most hype leading into Stopover weekend, New Orleans electopop duo Generationals put on a fitting showing late Friday night at Club One. The perfect spot for a dance party, this venue is a gay club every other weekend of the year, and boasts an impressive light rig, massive disco ball, and sizeable dance floor to hold the feet of a bunch of jazzed up festival attendees enjoying the hits like “Gold Silver Diamond”. Generationals put out their fourth LP on Polyvinyl last fall to a wave of success and they’re not ready to slow down just yet.
San Fermin
San Fermin’s performance in Trinity United Methodist Church Saturday evening was both energetic and serene. With a big stage and an even bigger arena to fill, the Brooklyn-based chamber pop group brought out all the horns, strings, and sireny vocals to have folks both glued to their seats in the pews and dancing dancing in front of the altar. The group is helmed by classically trained composer Ellis Ludwig-Leone but the impressive vocals of Allen Tate and Charlene Kay take center stage in beautiful ballads like the glorious cut “Sonsick” off their debut self-titled album. We eagerly await the follow-up.
French Horn Rebellion
French Horn Rebellion’s set at Hang Fire Bar was perfectly placed and timed for a dance party, and that’s just how it turned out. Where the “cool kids” would hang out on a Saturday night anyway, and being one of the last shows of the weekend, out-of-towners and locals alike were able to let loose, down maybe one too many drinks, and soak in the lush and danceable tunes coming from the tiny stage in the corner. The NYC-based duo have been cranking out remixes for the likes of Beyonce, Savoir Adore, and Sleigh Bells while collaborating on original tracks with Haerts, JD Samson, Ghost Beach, and plenty more. According to their Twitter, “We used to play French horn. Now we make hot dance beats.”
This past Thursday night at the 40 Watt saw a packed, diverse evening of what rock has been up to in the past three decades. It was also the debut event for local startup Aria Promotions, and they did a damn good job – the show was almost sold out.
Opener Juna delivered sludgy, math-intwined boomers. Between the Prozac haze guitar chords, quirky time signatures, and buffet table drumming, they definitely qualify as new members of the emo revival. A few of their meandering guitar noodles seemed ripped straight from a Sunny Day Real Estate record. Despite technical issues at the beginning of the set, they were still able to churn out winding high-passion sonic explorations. Lead singer Hunter Whitehead is probably the most impassioned bassist the Classic City has ever seen, and I was halfway convinced drummer Sasha Schilbrack-Cole was gonna permanently maim his kit. They were also really, really loud – once again, thank the heavens for We’re hEAR For You.
Waitress was up next, and at this point it seemed that the night existed on an exponential \m/(>.<)\m/ graph. They sounded like a Black Flag-Descendents intermediary, and even on their slower, more intricate songs, they still sounded like a metal Dismemberment Plan. Lead Brian McGhee was beyond delightful, basically standing in as a stand up between their ultra-tight songs. He waxed poetic about everything from Clickhole to Cliff Bars, and was charitable enough to tell each of his bandmates just how hot they are. In terms of straight technicality, the night went to drummer Ryan Houchens, who gave me Whiplash if you know what I mean.
But then Monsoon took the stage, and holy SHIT. For just three Athens kids, they made a whole lot of really great noise. Singer and guitarist Sienna was a natural showwoman, prowling and climbing the stage like a feral bilingual lunatic. Their pseudo-Americanized J punk / coked up Beach Boys vibe is something I’ve been searching for my whole life and didn’t even know it. If Clocked were a band, it would be Monsoon. There’s nothing more enjoyable than watching three obvious best friends absolutely weird-out and wreck a set of songs that don’t quite sound like anyone else. I feel like an idiot for not having seen them before, and would now like to publicly swear my undying allegiance to this band.
Then Atlanta’s The Howling Tongues came on amidst smoke machines and a light show that would make Kanye West say, “Dudes, you’re doing a lot.” While a great technical band – they had clearly practiced their set and song changes ad infinitum – they were playing a bluesy brand of rock and roll that’s really not supposed to sound this rehearsed. They were pleasant enough, and on the surface they were great; but they felt an odd choice as city-slicker closers juxtaposed to the earnest, scrappy punk of the Athens bands that opened for them. Some garage rock bands who deal in Rolling Stones riffage fall victim to the uncanny valley of soul vs. precision, and it looks like the Howling Tongues are one such band. Their whole schtick felt too familiar – making a big show of chugging Jack Daniels; songs involving “I’ll give it to you” double entendres; women smoking cigarettes in red dresses. Every “Whassup Athens?!” and “How y’all doin’ tonight?!” platitude felt empty and forced. It didn’t help that lead singer Taylor Harlow asked permission to “play some rock and rooollll” from the audience between every.single.song, and his playful joshing of the crowd’s lack of energy became uncomfortable berating by night’s end. And I wasn’t the only one who noted the irony of the Tongues’ “Ain’t Too Proud To Beg” cover. Basically, this is a group who’s proper to their own detriment, and doesn’t appear comfortable in their own skin. Loosening up would do ’em a lot of good.
Whoever decided opposites attract must have been talking about Sylvan Esso’s Amelia Meath and Nick Sanborn combining EDM with indie folk vocals straight from the hills of Appalachia at a sold-out Variety Playhouse on Jan. 15.
The duo, based out of Durham, N.C., started the show off with a high-powered rendition of “Could I Be,” a track that perfectly showcases Sanborn’s ability to mirror and echo Meath’s poetic lyrics about making it big with hypnotic bass.
Meath hijacked the crowd’s attention with her expertly executed verses during “Dress” and ended the track by borrowing: I woke up like this, from Beyoncé’s “Flawless” – very much to the crowd’s delight.
“Coffee,” which is arguably Sylvan Esso’s most popular song, featured more subtle rhythmic bass lines from Sanborn and was beautifully delivered with a raw vocal authority and climax that really ignited the crowd’s excitement.
“Hey Mami” begins low and slow with Sanborn’s skillful looping of Meath’s voice, as the piece quickly morphs into an all-out dub pop free for all, followed in perfect succession by the enormously danceable “H.S.K.T.”
Ironically, “Play It Right,” which touted lyrics like; When the sounds come together so close to my face/ It’s no wonder we wonder, was a track by Meath’s earlier project, Mountain Men, that Sanborn remixed back in 2013, launching their creative endeavors.
In the end, the duo played all ten tracks from their self-titled (and only) album. Meath extended her gratitude to the crowd for embracing their sound and debut.
During the encore, the duo performed a new song for the first time with more of a math rock influence. Sanborn admitted to Vinyl after the show that the song was so new that it “doesn’t even have a title yet.”
Despite both Meath and Sanborn’s successes in their previous projects that highlight their own personal talents, they have managed to combine their contrasting musical perspectives into one cohesive and unexpectedly thrilling musical experience. Sanborn’s powerful beats breathe life into Meath’s eerie indie croons; both are incredibly proficient in their respective sounds, but the way they come together is truly magnetic.
The Masquerade is always an interesting place to see a show. Not necessarily in a good way. Being divided into three venues (Heaven, Hell, Purgatory), there are often conflicting events pulling disparate crowds into the same building. It can be a little awkward. But Friday night was a special one, indeed. Right across the hall from Purgatory, where Mikky Ekko and Haerts were billed to perform, Hell was playing host to a Wizard Ball. I’ll leave the imagery up to your imagination, but suffice it to say upon entering I was wondering if I was the only person not in costume.
Purgatory is the smallest of the three venues, and the room was less than half full before Mikky Ekko (born John Stephen Sudduth) took the stage. I will admit that I came into the show largely unfamiliar with Mikky Ekko’s catalogue, aside from “Stay,” the 2012 Grammy-nominated duet he recorded with Rihanna. Sudduth grabbed mine and the rest of the crowd’s attention pretty quickly, though. By the second song, I was sold. The guitarist definitely stole the show in these early numbers, but it disproved my earlier notion that Mikky Ekko’s music was slow and sleepy.
Moving into the super soulful “Mourning Doves,” Sudduth opened up and unleashed his voice in a huge way. Now I see why he’s fronting this band without playing an instrument; his is built in. For “Time,” the title track off his forthcoming LP, the drummer and synth player left the stage, allowing Sudduth’s voice to take an even more leading role.
“Pull Me Down” is Mikky Ekko’s oldest song, created with Clams Casino at the production helm, and it was a crowd pleaser for sure. The next stretch of songs really saw the band coming together as a whole, creating a huge, cohesive sound that filled the room with energy and emotion. “Pressure Pills” offered hints of hip hop in the beats and “Pretend You Care” carried this feeling as well with deep bass notes and a really interesting drum machine sound. The guitar-driven R&B Mikky Ekko offers is definitely at it’s best when the full potential of all of his band is used, and these three songs were by far the best of the night for me.
Before closing out with an epic performance of “Smile,” Sudduth explains that because Atlanta feels like home (he went to college in Macon), he’s going to play a song he didn’t think he would play again, the aforementioned Rihanna duet “Stay.” No, Rihanna didn’t make an appearance.
A night of incredible singers indeed, Nini Fabi of Haerts wasted no time warming up her vocal chords on “Be the One” and stand-out single “Hemiplegia,” the opening two songs of their set. Side note: hemiplegia is condition that Fabi has struggled with since childhood which causes half of her body to lose feeling and renders her unable to speak. She explains that the song is not about the condition itself, ”It’s a metaphor – you see exactly what you want to do but you can’t. Who hasn’t felt that way?”
Fabi creates her own little rhythm section on the next couple of songs, employing a circular string of bells on “Lights Out” and a tambourine on “No One Needs To Know”. In the early moments of “Call My Name,” she looks over her left and right shoulders, making eye contact with her band, and you can feel the connectivity between them as a group. This is something the band has been pretty open about; their closeness as a creative force is no secret. In fact, Nini and multinstrumentalist Ben Gebert have been making music together since their early teens.
There’s an over exuberant fan in the front row belting out the words to “Call My Name” as loud as she can scream and rather than seeming annoyed, Fabi actually embraces the excitement, and it seems as though she’s almost performing for her specifically. She even calls her out between songs “That’s really great up front; let’s see if you know this one.”
It was “All the Days” …and she knew it. The most interesting part of this song for me was the closing section in which Fabi used her double mic setup to echo herself with complimenting vocal effects. Pretty cool to be able to recreate layered vocal tracks in a live setting.
“The Creek” was a new song, and one that sounded completely different than what we’ve grown to know from the band. Unlike the anthemic build ups of many Haerts songs, this one was very up-and-down with very distinct changes in pace ranging from the hushed opening to something more reminiscent of guitar rock than Haerts’ brand of sweet indie pop. The crowd absolutely loved it.
But not as much as they loved the next song, “Wings,” the first single the band ever released and I assume the inspiration for the tattoo inside Nini’s left wrist. She has a genuine smile on her face as she dedicates this one to the crowd before soaring into a beautiful performance of the epic single.
There’s a pause after this song in which she tells a short story about recording their song “Hope” in a 2-minute record booth at Third Man Records in Nashville. She had teased earlier in the show about having a contest coming up in which they would give away “a lot of money” to which I quietly responded “or a piece of vinyl you just recoded in Nashville?”. Being the responsible journalist that I am (cough, cough), I had seen mention of this on their Facebook when doing a bit of research the day before the show. I guess that was my winning ticket to the contest, because she handed me the one-of-a-kind 6” record and proceeded to perform the song, followed by the closer “Giving Up.”
It sounds way too trite to even write this, but it’s my honest perception that there really is so much heart in this band. From the way they describe their own story (at length) in their bio to their creative connectivity and passionate musicianship to their inspired songwriting, Haerts take their craft seriously and the emotion comes through ever so clearly. Their performance was epic, beautiful, enchanting, spirited, and inspiring, and it let me forget – for about 45 minutes – that there was a mini Dragon Con happening in the next room.
If you were raised in a place anywhere near the South, you’re probably used to being surrounded by some type of folk or country music (even if it’s unwillingly). However, within the decade, national radio is starting to hear a greater variety of music and a brand new genre. That genre, which falls somewhere between alternative country, bluegrass, and folk/Americana, has given us a number of gems- The Avett Brothers, The Devil Makes Three, and Old Crow Medicine Show.
In a day and age full of drinking anthems, the popularity of “Wagon Wheel” ranks somewhere among “Sweet Caroline” and “Free Bird”. The song, co-written by Bob Dylan, has launched Old Crow Medicine Show into stardom. Being within this potluck genre means “Wagon Wheel” is a top pick for a variety of radio stations and listeners alike.
Although I wasn’t sure what to expect when seeing Old Crow Medicine Show at The Classic Center on November 20, I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised.
Upon arriving, I noticed the crowd was very mixed, ranging from young college students to senior citizens. The huge theatre with possible seating of 2,600 filled the complete lower level and a majority of the lower balcony, after the doors opened at 7pm.
The night promptly started at 8, with Dom Flemons, previous member of the popular Carolina Chocolate Drops. Flemons, complete with a tilted hat and suspenders, introduced the audience to an instrument called “the bones”. Similar to playing the spoons, except with animal bones (hence the name), this was only one contribution to Flemon’s unique old-time talent. His distinct voice, skilled banjo pickin’, and alive stage presence was an interesting pre-cursor that got everyone anxious to see the main act.
After about a half hour intermission, the lights among the crowds again dimmed and revealed the headliner, which consisted of seven men, each posted at a different instrument and adorning a different pair of cowboy boots.
Throughout the performance, the members of Old Crow switched between a multitude of instruments; including guitars, vocals, dobro, fiddle, upright bass, drums, banjo and even an organ. But one thing was constant: the energy and vivacity.
Fitting together and reaching a point of perfect sync can be a struggle for all bands, especially big ones, but Old Crow had no problem with this.
Nor did they have a problem connecting with the audience. From the very beginning, the two lead singers, Ketch Secor and Christopher “Critter” Fuqua, were very verbal and weren’t short of Georgian references. Each audience member could relate to something they said, whether it was talks of Commerce, Gainesville, or Madison County, or distinct Georgian landmarks like the Braves and I-85.
Was it rehearsed? I’m not sure and it didn’t matter. The audience connected to what they were saying, right down to their Southern drawwww-ls.
But those weren’t the only stories they told. The band members also explained how they picked up ultra talented pedal steel player Gill Landry, busking on the streets of New Orleans. And apparently, after Bob Dylan heard Darius Rucker’s cover of “Wagon Wheel” on the radio, he sent Old Crow another song, “Sweet Amarillo”, the third track on their latest album Remedy.
The story they didn’t tell? Cory Younts, who performed a trifecta of drumming, organ playing and whistling, has also played mandolin with fellow Nashville star Jack White.
Needless to say, by the end of the concert, the immense talent in the room was obvious- of each musician and of the group as a whole. Although the pit had been standing since the beginning, the rest of the room stood up around “Wagon Wheel” and didn’t take back to their seats.
Old Crow invited Flemons to re-join the stage and from that moment until the very last, the theatrical performance became more than just that: it became a good time. The only thing worse than a boring audience is a boring performer, and this show was the complete opposite. If I walked in with a tinge of doubt, then I left it inside that building.
Old Crow Medicine Show is certainly a show, and a show worth seeing for anyone that enjoys genuine talent-driven artists and one rowdy, hell of a time.
We rely on music to transport us via our imaginations to far away places opposite of current surroundings. Last Saturday at the Drunken Unicorn, as the temperature dropped well below the national average for Atlanta, Toronto-based Alvvays carried the crowd away to a place to where sun and sand are plentiful and summer love is in bloom.
Decked out in their matching white converse, they opened the show with “The Agency Group”, a slow but climactic track that showcases the peaks and depth of Molly Rankin’s vocal range blended well with Alec O’Hanley’s crooning guitar.
With her thick Canadian accent and effortless rapport with the audience, Rankin’s stage presence is absolutely infectious. Perhaps it was just the ambiance of the venue that caused one audience member to say, “I think she’s the closest I’ll ever get to seeing an actual unicorn.”
Slow and deliberate, “Dives” featured Rankin and keyboardist Kerri MacLellan harmonizing fluidly, a testament to the long-term friendship between the two women.
In a refreshing change of pace, Alvvays chose to play their most notable single “Archie, Marry Me”well before the end of the show as the crowd sung along with Rankin. The track recently gained even more attention last week after being covered by Ben Gibbard in Seattle.
“Party Police” was perhaps the truest test of Rankin’s vocal range in a live setting and one she passed with flying colors as she raised her voice one octave towards the end of: Don’t have to leave, you could just stay here with me. This is just one example of the bands quirky and natural style that translates well from outlet to audience.
For the encore the band chose to play a new song called “Haircut”, a more post-punk influenced track that still encompasses the dreamy sound we’re used to. After the show we caught up with drummer, Phil MacIsaac who said that while they enjoy playing new songs, there are no plans to record a new album anytime soon. “We’ve been touring our asses off, there’s just not enough time right now,” He said. Alvvays kicks off their international tour in 2015 and will open for the Decemberists in March.
