Monday, October 31, 2005
Buckethead at State Theatre (Falls Church, Virginia)
Fan pencils by Julien.
Washington Post, Friday, October 28, 2005; Page C07
After waiting nearly two hours past the scheduled start time, the crowd at the State Theatre on Wednesday was treated to five songs before metal-funk guitar hero Buckethead cleared the stage and launched into a martial-arts routine set to techno music. With his trademark white mask and KFC bucket firmly on his head, the tall, gangly, mute ax-slinger swung nunchucks for a while before breaking into the robot dance, gently handing out toys and finally returning to his guitar for two speed-metal romps set to recorded music. Sigh. "Sling Blade"-like drummer Pinchface and bassist Delray Brewer rejoined Buckethead for three more tunes before the group took a painfully long 25-minute break after its choppy 50-minute set. The trio returned to crank out 70 more minutes of all-instrumental metal, but there was hardly any mayhem. The group's sound is too polished for anything to be out of place, including a set list filled with such standard Buckethead concert fare as "Nottingham Lace," "Slaw," "Night of the Slunk," "Meta-Matic," "Jordan" and "Jowls." Before the show, power-trio performances by Cream and Jimi Hendrix were projected on the stage's screen. Big mistake. It's not that freaky Buckethead can't hold his own with Hendrix and Eric Clapton. But Pinchface and Brewer pale in comparison with the flexible rhythm sections in Cream and Hendrix's group. Then again, Buckethead's songs don't give his bandmates much to do beyond following the virtuoso leader, which means hammering home simple drum patterns and obvious bass progressions while he finger-taps his way through scale exercises. Without a vocalist to provide melodic and rhythmic distractions, Buckethead's music sounded like backing tracks for karaoke metal. The band's tame closing medley of Hendrix's "Foxey Lady" and "Machine Gun" was the ultimate proof. --Christopher Porter
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Click here to see Buckethead's very earnest tribute to ODB. I hope all 47 of Ol' Dirty's baby mommas are doing all 'ight. Posted by CP | Link |
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Abdel Wright
"Loose We Now"
Abdel Wright
(Weapons of Mass Entertainment/Interscope, 2005)
Abdel Wright
"Quicksand" (acoustic)
Prealbum sampler CD
(Weapons of Mass Entertainment/Interscope, 2004)
Go to AbdelWright.com to stream the whole CD and watch the video for the album version of "Quicksand." Or just go buy it for less than $10. The above photo was taken at the 2005 Air Jamaica Jazz & Blues Festival; read my review here.
I met Abdel Wright by chance in January 2004 while flying to Kingston to do research and interviews for a story about jazz's influence on ska and reggae. I was standing with pianist Monty Alexander in the Montego Bay airport, and he pointed out a guy across the hallway. "See that young, skinny dread? Bono said he's gonna be the next Marley." Alexander had never met Wright, but he had just overdubbed some melodica on the CD the singer-songwriter was working on.
We couldn't get out of line to say hello, and Abdel kept walking, so we figured that was that. Alexander and I soon boarded the plane and walked toward our seats. Who did we see sitting in the third seat in our row? Abdel Wright. We had a great chat -- two Jamaicans and a bottle of paste between them -- and Abdel ended up spending some time with us in Kingston because he wanted to meet the legendary guitarist Ernest Ranglin, who joined me & Monty on our trip around the city.
Wright was an unknown then -- and is pretty much an unknown now -- but there was a growing buzz about him. Just a few months prior to our meeting, Bono and Dave Stewart (of the Eurythmics and owner of the Weapons of Mass Entertainment imprint) had invited Abdel to play a concert in South Africa benefitting Nelson Mandela's 46664 AIDS charity. Other artists included U2, Queen, Peter Gabriel, etc. All megastars. No Abdel Wrights.
Wright played his lone song, "Loose We Now," at the Mandella concert in bare feet because he wanted to be close to Mother Africa. He clearly breaks down in tears at the end of the tune (which I posted last year). So, why the waterfalls? Wright couldn't believe he was singing to a huge audience at a packed soccer stadium in Africa. When you read his about his life you'll know why he got so emotional.
The story below is from the September 2004 issue of Global Rhythm. It was supposed to coincide with the release of Abdel's debut CD, but the album was delayed until August 2005 -- two full years after it was originally recorded. In the meantime Abdel added the strong antiwar anthem "Babylon Wall" to the CD. (A much shorter version of this story will appear in the December 2005 issue of Harp.)
ABDEL WRIGHT
From Guns to Guitars -- and a Bidding War
Story: Christopher Porter
Abdel Wright is sitting on a bed in a no-frills Quality Inn in suburban Virginia. The room is stuffy because the air conditioning is switched off to protect his voice, and a Jamaican flag T-shirt is thrown over a lamp to diffuse the harsh light. This is the man that U2's Bono dubbed "the most important Jamaican artist since Marley."
Everybody has to start somewhere.
Four months before the September 14th release of his self-titled debut for Interscope, Wright is playing solo gigs up and down the East Coast. While the CD versions of his socially conscious tunes are decorated with Jamaican rhythms, the 27-year-old's music is based primarily on American folk-pop. For instance, the first single, "Quicksand," features harmonica decorations and a strummed acoustic-guitar over a dubby bass and hip-hoppy rhythm with Wright delivering lyrics in a distinct vocal style: his verses are mostly patois and sometimes chanted, while his choruses are largely sung in straight English. Meanwhile, slide guitar pops up on "Human Behavior" and the Bob Dylan-esque "Loose We Now," and delicate finger-picked guitar introduces "Dust Under Carpet" and the raw autobiography "Issues." But while the song structures might come from folk-rock, this Rastafarian's words are born out of the same political sensibility as Marley's, and this is what Bono meant. "He didn't say I was the next Bob Marley," reaffirms Wright, yet he admits that for all the buzz the superstar's quote will help create, "It's kind of pressuring because I know how people think."
But Wright has faced bigger problems than worrying what others think. He's the son of a mentally ill mother and a father he never met. "The police had to take me away from her because she's too sick to take care of baby. I was like 3, 4 months old," he says quietly. "It took about three months because she was so hostile to them. They finally found me in the house ceiling; she hid me there in a little basket. One or two days I'm up there. That's where the homes started, the orphanages."
After bouncing around facilities in Clarendon and Kingston due to his bad behavior, the 14-year-old Wright ended up at SOS Children's Home in Barrett Town near Montego Bay, which is where he met Johnny Cash. "He lived just down the road," Wright says. "He would give us books, visit us, talk to us. Every Christmas he would have a concert and he would invite SOS kids. I watched him play the guitar and the mouth organ, and I said, 'My, God, I wish I could do that.' And a guy beside me said, 'Hey, man, shut up! You ain't doing shit! You'll never do that!' It hit me for months, because it was one of the most degrading things someone can say to me. The only thing I respected much at this time was music."
While he briefly had a guitar at the SOS home in Kingston, "I smashed it in the wall when the chords weren't coming out that great," Wright laughs. "But before I smashed it I learned a couple of Tracy Chapman chords." Luckily, there was also a guitar in Barrett Town, and Wright was able to borrow it and then own it. "One Christmas at the age of 17, everybody got gifts but me. I said, 'Mmm, hmm, I did something bad as usual.' Everybody was laughing at me, until this superintendent from the village, Ian Philips, I love him so much, said, 'Abdel, I noticed you didn't get anything, but I have something to say: The guitar down the office is yours.' I said, 'Back side!' And I run down the office and grab it, and I run up to my room and nobody saw me for three days after that. I hug that guitar like my girlfriend."
Wright should have held onto that guitar a little tighter the following year when as an 18-year-old he left SOS and moved back to Kingston. "I didn't have anywhere to go to. No skills at all," Wright says, shaking his head. "I got involved with a lot of guns, robbing people for a living. I was on the street." After a year of scraping by, Wright was busted. "I was caught with illegal possession of firearm and ammunition. I went to GP [general penitentiary] first, then they transfer me to Gun Court because I'm a talent. They had a rehabilitation program just starting there, and they wanted me to go into the band."
Wright taught other prisoners music and himself Spanish and sign language. He was released after five years, and started playing his own songs at karaoke bars. In 2003 a friend told producer Brian Jobson about Wright, who asked to meet the singer-songwriter in a hotel parking lot. "I took my last $200 [about $4 U.S.] and took a taxi knowing I'd be hungry later," he says. Wright sang two of his CD's best songs -- the playful looking-for-a girl tune "My Decision" and the prison-bunk meditation "Roughest Time" -- and when he finished he saw a smile on Jobson's face. The producer said he would see Wright again and drove off.
A week later Jobson called and said he bought Wright a guitar and he wanted to record an album. That recording made its way to the Eurhythmics' Dave Stewart, who passed it on to Bono, and the two rock stars invited Wright to sing with them at the 46664 charity concert last November in South Africa. A small bidding war started, Interscope won, and here we are.
Despite his life's quick turnaround, Wright isn't worried about losing his head. "My experience helps me to be humble. I lived without a mother and a father, so nothing really flatters I and I. I appreciate where my life is at now, but as you see," he says, opening his arms and looking around the hotel room, "I'm a very simple person."Posted by CP | Link |
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Umbria Jazz 05
Perugia, Italy (July 8-17, 2005)
Click here to read the full review.Posted by CP | Link |
Thursday, October 13, 2005
The Sound of One Hand Slapping -- the Head
Washington Post, Thursday, October 13, 2005; Page C07
If an avant-garde musician falls in a club and there's almost nobody there to hear him, does he still make a sound? Surely, and he likely recorded the tumble and gave it a song title, too.
The four experimental electronic bands that played DC9 on Tuesday didn't have much of an audience -- maybe 20 people total -- but they made one helluva racket anyway. Opening act RDK -- Davis White with a small keyboard, computer and effects -- conjured early '70s Tangerine Dream on his first number and the modern classical melodies of Samuel Barber on his second. He concluded his short set by saying he would be playing at the Montgomery College planetarium next month, "which is probably a better venue for this type of music -- no offense to DC9." None taken, because he's right.
The next band, Projexorcism, would have thrived in a planetarium, though the duo led by Ed Cooper did just fine in the small bar. Cooper used four projectors to broadcast various 16mm films on a big white sheet that intersected the club. Two camcorders captured the images, fed them into an electronic device for some scrambling and rebroadcast them on the screen. All the while ambient squiggles and a language-lesson recording provided the soundtrack, with the words on the screen syncing with the 1950s-sounding teaching tool. Fascinating stuff.
Violet -- aka Jeff Surak -- didn't provide any visuals save for three small candles and a loud patterned shirt, but he did lay on the soundtrack music pretty thick. For about 30 minutes, Surak constructed a wall of noise that relied on harmonics and overtones to provide the majority of the details, along with the occasional electronic chirp, squeal and thump.
The evening's headliner was the most perplexing. LoVid (Tali Hinkis and Kyle Lapidus) sat in a bar booth with an array of homemade or modified electronic controllers piled in front of them and spent 10 minutes remixing TV static and test patterns. That was it. Set over. Thank goodness. --Christopher Porter
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Outtakes
Projexorcism's set really was great; hope the words "Fantastic stuff" didn't come off as sarcastic. The headline of the review -- provided by the Post -- makes it sound like the whole evening was lacking. Not the case; in fact, only LoVid's "performance" was on the crappy side. I really expected a lot more from them: LoVid was the act I pitched to the Post for review. But RDK's Davis White was right: rock clubs are no place for Tuesday night experimental electronica shows in experimental-unfriendly Washington, D.C.Posted by CP | Link |
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Dead Can Dance about a million hair follicles ago, and before the Siamese separation operation.
Dead Can Dance
"Nierika"
Barcelona, Spain, 03.22.2005
(DCDDiscs.com, 2005)
Dead Can Dance, Playing Well Together
Washington Post, Wednesday, October 12, 2005; Page C12
Old goths never die; they just fill out their pirate shirts a bit more. That was true at Strathmore on Monday night when the reformed Dead Can Dance played a 20-song set to a faithful group of aging fans, many of whom wore black lace, red-velvet vests and Seinfeldesque puffy shirts like they never went out of fashion. I even saw a top hat and Dracula cape combo.
While the clothes of Dead Can Dance devotees haven't aged well, the music of the band they love certainly has: a rich blend of goth-rock, ancient church song and ethno-techno thump. Leaders and multi-instrumentalists Brendan Perry and Lisa Gerrard fronted a percussion-heavy band that featured eight people onstage at one point. The set generally alternated between Perry's tribal world-music tunes and Gerrard's dark ambient hymnals, and there's also a stark contrast in their voices: Perry has a strong rock baritone; Gerrard could croon an opera. But Dead Can Dance toured Europe in the spring using the same set list, so the group has perfected its grand performances, easily blending the leaders' differing styles into a coherent concert.
From the opening note of the opening song, "Nierika," people in the stage-side balcony sections stood and did the mystic boogaloo; those in the orchestra area were forced to merely shoulder-shimmy in their seats. But dance they did, and cheer, too, especially for the favorites "How Fortunate the Man With None," "The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove," "American Dreaming," "Sanvean" and "Rakim" and the encores "Black Sun," "Salem's Lot," "Yulunga" and show-ending "Hymn for the Fallen." As the final synth-piano notes were dying, Gerrard told the crowd to stay as they were. Pirate shirts and all. --Christopher PorterPosted by CP | Link |
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Congotronics 2: Buzz 'n' Rumble From the Urb 'n' Jungle
I think this is a Suburbs exclusive right now, so spread the word that more Congolese hottttttttness is on the way.
From Marc Hollander at Crammed Discs:
"The Konono No. 1 album Congotronics 1 is finally coming out officially in the U.S., through our new distribution arrangement with Ryko. Congotronics 2 CD/DVD will be released in America around January 2006 and in Europe on October 31, 2005."
Congotronics 2 features six more bands (seven on the DVD), plus Konono No. 1, doing the electro-Afro-folk burn that's sweeping the nation (or music nerds, anyway).
Here are three clips from the DVD -- there's some very nice ass-shakin' on the Sobanza jam. All in Real Audio/Video format:
=> Basokin
=> Sobanza Mimanisa
=> Masanka Sankayi
Press release follows:
After the explosive Konono No. 1, the Congotronics series presents six other astounding bands from the suburbs of Kinshasa, including Kasai All Stars, Masanka Sankayi, and Basokin.
More heavily-distorted sounds, more DIY amplification but also a whole array of different rhythms, buzzing drums, swirling guitars and hypnotic balafons. A DVD will be included to show it all.
Congotronics 2: Buzz 'n' Rumble from the Urban Jungle
The Konono No. 1 album (Congotronics 1) has started giving worldwide exposure to the strange and spectacular electro-traditional mixtures which are being concocted in the suburbs of Kinshasa, Congo. World music, electronica and avant-rock aficionados have been equally amazed by this otherworldly music, which has driven the international press to come up with extremely surprising comparisons, from Can and Krautrock to Jimi Hendrix, Lee Perry and proto-techno!
Hot on the footsteps of Congotronics 1, here comes a fresh selection of even more amazing sounds, courtesy of no less than seven electro-traditional bands from Kinshasa, which have all been especially recorded and produced by Crammed's Vincent Kenis:
Sobanza Mimanisa
Kasai Allstars
Kisanzi Congo
Masanka Sankayi
Bolia We Ndenge
Basokin
Konono No. 1
Tulu (only on the DVD)
These bands all draw on traditional trance music, to which they've incorporated heavily distorted sounds generated by DIY amplification of their instruments... just like Konono No. 1, except that as the musicians come from various geographical and cultural backgrounds (Kasai, Lake Mai Ndombe, Bacongo province), they use very diverse rhythms, timbres and instrumentation: the trademark electrified thumb pianos and megaphones are joined by an array of buzzing drums, swirling guitars and hypnotic balafons.
The Congotronics 2 album also includes a 41-minute DVD based on material filmed by producer Vincent Kenis while he recorded these bands in Kinshasa, and edited by Elsa Dahmani.
The subtitle of this album hints to the legendary Ali-Foreman boxing fight which took place in Kinshasa in 1974, and was nicknamed "Rumble in the Jungle." James Brown, BB King, Fania All Stars and Miriam Makeba performed there around that event, which had a deep impact on a whole generation of young Congolese musicians and fans.
More about the bands:
Kasai Allstars: A province the size of France situated in the center of Congo, Kasai is well known for its diamond fields and vivid musical traditions. This collective of artists incorporates members from four different Kasaian bands, including Basokin and Masanka Sankayi, who also appear separately on this album, and personalities as diverse as singer Muambuyi (from West Kasai), and singer/dancer/slit drum player Tandjolo (from the Tetela region, which links Kasai to the Equator province).
Masanka Sankayi: These dancers, singers and storytellers Muyamba Nyunyi and Kabongo from East Kasai have been together since the '70s. Muyamba the preacher is also an excellent bass likembe player. Unlike Konono's, his instrument is a 20-inch square box featuring half a likembe on each side and on which he sits in a foetus-like position. Both pieces were recorded at Porte Rouge, in the Matonge district. The song in French is Kabongo's very own rendition of a XVIIe century fable by Jean de la Fontaine.
Sobanza Mimanisa (Orchestra of Light) are the resident band in Nganda Boboto, in the Selembao district where we recorded this piece. There are only five instruments here: a bell, a whistle, a spray can being hit against a plastic beer case, a guitar -- whose 'power chord' style is very unusual in Kinshasa -- and a likembe which manages to play the bass and solo parts at the same time. Sobanza Mimanisa comes from the Bacongo province.
Kisanzi Congo's line-up is similar to Konono's, and they also come from the Bacongo province (specifically the Mbeko region). But whereas Konono's electric likembes use raw power to carry their message, Kisanzi Congo rely more on virtuosity and adopt a freer form. We recorded this piece in a deserted shopping mall in the center of Kinshasa, formerly called Galerie des Trois Z ("Zaire -- our country, our river, our currency").
Basokin: The Basongye from Kinshasa are from the Songye region, at the Eastern fringe of Kasai. Their frontman Mputu Ebondo 'Mi Amor' is a well-known spokesman for the Songye and Kasaian community. On this particular session, recorded at Porte Noire, in the Matonge district, Basokin's line-up was reduced to its essential components: three singers, three percussion players and two guitarists.
Bolia We Ndenge come from the Lake Mai Ndombe. Only a century ago, the whole region was still Domaine de la Couronne, i.e a giant labor camp for the personal benefit of King Leopold II. At one point, to calm discontent, the force publique gave accordions to local chiefs; the idea might have been suggested by Stanley, an accordion aficionado himself. See the movie for an evocation by Bolia We Ndenge of this important moment in the history of world music; the accordion and force publique uniform are genuine vintage items. The accordion became very popular in Congo until it was supplanted by the guitar in the '50s.
Konono No. 1: The band everyone raves about, from electronica and avant-rock aficionados to world music fans.... The sparks that are bound to fly when a Congotronics band plays through a large PA system in front of a totally fired-up European (American/Asian?) audience are clearly perceptible in "Couleur Cafe," a piece recorded live at the eponymous festival in Brussels during Konono 's summer 2005 tour, and on which founder & solo likembe player Mawangu Mingiedi lent his instrument to his son, Mawangu Makuntima. The tradition is in good hands!
More about Congotronics 2
The bands featured here all include musicians who left the bush to settle in the capital and who, in order to continue to fulfill their social role and make themselves heard by the ancestors (and, more concretely, by their fellow citizens) despite the high level of urban noise, had to resort to a makeshift electrification of their instruments, which provoked a radical mutation of their sound. The much-commented similarities between this music and some forms of avant-rock or electronica is purely fortuitous, since these bands draw exclusively on traditional trance music and have been totally unaware of current Western trends so far.
These bands come from various parts of the country: the ancient Kongo kingdom, situated across the Congo river between Kinshasa and the Atlantic; the Kasai province, occupying the center of Congo; and the lake Maindombe area, situated 300 km north-east of the capital. The original styles vary greatly from region to region but, being based in Kinshasa, the musicians tend to recruit each other on a personal rather than tribal basis, which leads to a lot of cross-cultural pollination. In particular, Kasai Allstars is, as far as we know, the first group to initiate a meeting between luba and lulua musical traditions, which previously were supposed to be incompatible.
Some instruments used by these bands already sound 'distorted' when played acoustically, like the buzzing Kasaian drum featured in many songs; most of them are original creations or re-creations, made by the musicians themselves. We already know the electric likembe, or thumb piano, pioneered by Konono No. 1, with its pickups made of copper telephone wire wound around crushed car alternator magnets. Electric likembes come in different shapes and sizes -- you can even sit on some of them, like the one Masanka Sankayi use for bass; others are designed to play the bass and solo parts at the same time, like Sobanza Mimanisa's. We also have electric guitars reassembled from parts with origins as diverse as Bulgaria, China and Mexico, a hi-hat made from hubcaps and film cans on top of a front axle and wheel held upside down, a rattle made of a steel spring and two sardine cans, a jug made of a drain pipe glued onto a calabash with gaffer tape, etc.
End press release
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Trumpet time:
Read what seems to be an exclusive interview that I did way back when with producer Vincent Kenis about Konono No. 1 and Congotronics 1.
Read about and then download the first Konono No. 1 track ever released in the West -- in 1978.
See Konono No. 1 rock America in November:
11/04 Seattle, Wash. - Earshot Jazz Festival
11/06 San Francisco, Calif. - SFJazz Festival
11/10 Minneapolis, Minn. - Cedar Cultural Centre
11/11 Chicago, Ill. - Logan Square Auditorium
11/12 Colombus, Ohio - Wexner Center for the Arts
11/13 Dayton, Ohio - Boll Theater
11/14 Ann Arbor, Mich. - The Ark
11/15 Pittsburgh, Pa. - The Warhol Museum
11/16 New York City - Joe's Pub
11/17 New York City - S.O.B's
11/18 Somerville, Mass. - Somerville Theater
11/20 Philadelphia, Pa. - World Live Cafe
11/22 Washington, D.C. - Kennedy Center [FREE!]
U.S. readers: Buy Konono No. 1's Congotronics 1 at a domestic price.Posted by CP | Link |
Monday, October 10, 2005
Badi Assad
"Valse d'Amelie"
Verde
(Edge, 2005)
Washington Post, Monday, October 10, 2005; Page C04
Badi Assad
Clarice Smith Performing Arts Center
Joseph and Alma Gildenhorn Recital Hall
University of Maryland
College Park, Md., October 7, 2005
When Brazilian singer-guitarist Badi Assad took the stage barefoot, wearing flowing green pants and a peach-pink vest-scarf, one thought crossed my mind: She probably has a cat.
But on Friday at the Clarice Smith Performing Arts Center's intimate Joseph and Alma Gildenhorn Recital Hall, Assad proved she's much more than a flower child. The 39-year-old with a huge shock of curly black hair is also a stunning fingerstyle guitarist and an eccentric singer in the Bobby McFerrin mold.
When she wasn't awkwardly turning U2's "One" into a bossa nova or, more successfully, blending her own "Viola Meu Bem" into a tango-tinged take on Bjork's "Bachelorette" -- all from her new CD, "Verde" -- Assad came across like the Ani DiFranco of Rio de Janeiro on tunes like "Naio Naio" (where she imitated the sounds of monkeys and birds), "In My Little White Top" and "Nao Adianta." Most appealing were the instrumental songs "Waves," "Valse d'Amelie" (the theme song to the film "Amelie") and "Interrogando," because Assad could show off her remarkable facility on acoustic guitar. Her fingers flew across the frets and nylon strings, stretching out to construct improbably expansive chords or play lightning-fast arpeggios.
Assad doesn't excel just at traditional Brazilian guitar. She also played African thumb piano on the delicate "Feminina" and prepared guitar on the gorgeous "The Being Between," jamming a drumstick under the strings to make it sound like a Japanese koto. The latter tune also all but confirmed my suspicions: Near the end of the song, Assad leaned toward her guitar and gurgled to it in that unmistakable baby voice people use to talk to kitties. --Christopher Porter
--
Outtakes
Badi Assad is like Frank Zappa or Yngwie Malmsteen to me: I recognize the immense talent, but I just don't dig the music. For this review, I tried to clear my head and just evaluate the performance. For instance, to give a frame of reference I mentioned Ani DiFranco and Bobby McFerrin but I didn't do so pejoratively -- even though I can't stand to listen to CDs by either one of those gifted, caterwauling people. Still, I was curious to see Assad live because she is a really great guitarist -- instrumentals only would have been ideal -- and concerts at the Clarice Smith Performing Arts Center are always fun because the halls there have fantastic acoustics.
Buy some Badi Assad -- including the all-instrumental album Echoes of Brazil.
Posted by CP | Link |
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Mariza
"Transparente"
Transparente
(Times Square, 2005)
"O Silencio da Guitarra"
Fado Curvo
(Times Square, 2003)
Washington Post, Saturday, October 8, 2005; Page C05
Mariza
Lisner Auditorium, George Washington University
Washington, D.C., October 6, 2005
Fado music is often referred to as Portuguese blues -- filled with sorrowful lyrics, African-slave-derived rhythms and minor-key melodies that touch on flamenco and Arabic music. Thursday at Lisner Auditorium, the striking Portuguese singer Mariza and her powerful contralto voice performed 17 songs, each one a rich mini-drama. You'd have to watch Telemundo to see such overtly demonstrative theater.
Backed primarily by the oud-like Portuguese guitar, classical guitar and acoustic-electric bass, Mariza sang of death, lost loves and longing while also dealing with a mean case of the sniffles. She displayed a keen sense of humor with her stage banter. During the upbeat, popular folk song "Uma Casa Portuguesa," long associated with fado's queen, Amalia Rodrigues, Mariza had the Portuguese nationals jumping out of their seats. During a breakdown in the tune, she heard kissing noises from the percussionist, so she gave him a stern look and a gentle verbal chastising. Then Mariza started to blow loud, extremely noisy kisses to the audience with all the messy fervor of a 2-year-old. It's no wonder she is fast becoming fado's leading ambassador. --Christopher Porter
--
Outtakes
The original version of this review had a riff about how Mariza reminds me of Pinhead from the Hellraiser movies. A REALLY PRETTY version of the horror-flick icon, of course, but still: With her cropped blond hair, long and lean torso, and body-hugging black dress that slowly fanned out like a thin bell as it traveled down her legs and ended just above the floor, I couldn't help but think of Pinny. Mariza also displayed a flair for the dark and dramatic, walking very slowly across the stage and intensely staring at the audience with her deep, penetrating eyes. Thankfully, Mariza's gorgeous head wasn't filled with sewing implements.
Anyway, my wife thought that version of the review was, uh, how should we say, really effin' stupid. But I was in a rush to turn it in because we had an office outing on Friday and I couldn't hang around to change it up. So I sent the review to the paper and wondered what would happen. I'm thankful to report that the editors thought the Pinhead angle was moronic, too, so they switched it up like pros. I mean, there's just no way to compare someone to Pinhead and have it not seem like an insult, even if it isn't meant to be.
But really: Doesn't she look like Pinhead, just a little?
The two songs I posted are pretty representative of Mariza's sound. "Transparente," the title track to her new CD, is one of the more African-influenced songs in Mariza's repertoire, and at Lisner the Mozambique-born singer dedicated the tune to "my black grandmother." The other song, "O Silencio da Guitarra," kicked off the concert, as it does her 2003 album, Fado Curvo.
Buy some Mariza.Posted by CP | Link |
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Damian Marley featuring Notorious BIG
"Welcome to Jamrock" remix
Like Jr. Gong, Housen him haff talent! Fade an' a brim! Bay rum!
Darain Housen has not taken off his hat for the last 20 years. He bathes, he sleeps and does everything possible in it. It is a perfect fit. But unlike other hats, his is not made of cloth but from the very hair on his head...
...Housen said that he was once stopped by a policeman while coming from a dance early one morning who insisted that he removed it. "Him shine di light pon mi an' look. When him see it seh a mi real hair him frighten an' seh mi mus come check him a di station di following morning. When mi go him shake mi han' an' seh mi have talent an' mi fi keep it up."Posted by CP | Link |
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Satyricon
"The Dawn of a New Age"
Nemesis Divina
(Century Media, 1997)
The review of the Oya Festival below was published in the November 2005 issue of Harp. There was no room to rave on about the Satyricon boys in an indie-rock mag, so I just mentioned them in passing. But I spent more time watching them grind away for the devil than I did gawking at Annie grinding away in a hot green dress. What's wrong with me?
I'm eventually gonna do an extended remix of this dinky review, covering a lot more of the festival and featuring photos of more than just Satyricon. But dudes look awesome, no? Satan provides the Pantene Pro-V shiny hair.
Oyafestivalen
Oslo, Norway
August 10-13, 2005
The eco-friendly Oya feels like a Mini-Me version of Bonnaroo: well run, eclectic and ambitious. After a kick-off night of club shows spread throughout Oslo, the all-day outdoor fest opened, its three stages set on an idyllic, islandlike patch of land that was the capitol of Norway a thousand years ago. The ruins of Maria Church still jut through the festival grounds, framed by the Oslo fjord to the South, the Ekeberg Hill to the East and the city skyline to the West.
Nearly 50,000 attendees saw 153 bands over the course of four days, and the styles ran the gamut of Norwegian music--from wispy singer-songwriters (Kings of Convenience) and homoerotic death punk (Turbonegro) to Norsk-language hip-hop (Cast) and garage-rock-influenced free jazz (The Thing)--while also loading up on international acts like Franz Ferdinand, Dinosaur Jr., Sonic Youth, Polyphonic Spree and Babyshambles (whose junkie-singer Pete Doherty managed to barf on stage, disappointing no one).
It was a dizzying and diverse lineup, sure, but one that suits the catholic tastes of Norway's modern-day music fans: It truly wasn't odd to have synth-pop queen Annie play at the same time as black-metal thugs Satyricon--and see people float between the two stages like they were torn between hearing Wilco and Son Volt.
For all the great music coming out of Norway--A-Ha's "Take On Me" isn't the country's only good song, I swear--and the grandly entertaining theatrical sets of Satyricon and Turbonegro, it was an American act that wowed at Oya:
Their deep wounds seemingly buried, Dinosaur Jr.'s reunion brought the noise with gleeful abandon. J. Mascis' Gandalf-like mane and Murph's pillowy midsection notwithstanding (Lou Barlow still looks like a kid), the youthful-sounding trio had a blast running through the almost 20-year-old likes of "The Lung" and "Freak Scene," with the baby-faced crowd singing along throughout the set. --Christopher Porter
Buy some Satyricon.Posted by CP | Link |
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
The Decemberists
"16 Military Wives"
Picaresque
(Kill Rock Stars, 2005)
Washington Post, Tuesday, October 4, 2005; Page C05
Sons & Daughters, Decemberists: Arrr Gang
There was a seafaring theme at the sold-out 9:30 club on Sunday. With opening act Sons and Daughters, you had Scott Paterson singing like a pirate (and not as a joke, either), and the Decemberists, who headlined, seemed to feature a nautical reference in every song -- not to mention the cheap whale prop the band brought out during "The Mariner's Revenge Song."
The Scottish punkabilly quartet Sons and Daughters features two singers, but Adele Bethel left all the shiver-me-timbers stuff to guitarist Paterson, who was likely just affecting a gruff voice but ended up sounding like Captain Ahab after a long night of whiskey and whaling. The highlight of the band's lackluster set, which was decidedly unrocking due to a mix that buried the guitars, was when Bethel's keyboard collapsed just before the band could play its "Johnny Cash" single.
The Decemberists had no such malfunctions, and with six people onstage there was little chance that the sound would be underwhelming. Bandleader Colin Meloy has a voice that recalls the Violent Femmes' Gordon Gano -- all reedy and nasal -- but what he lacks as a singer he more than makes up for with his lyrics and layered arrangements. Like his hero Morrissey, another artist who makes the most of a limited vocal range, Meloy writes some of the smartest, most literate songs around.
A large part of the Decemberists' 17-song set was devoted to their strong new album, Picaresque. That CD's melodically rich and lyrically captivating "16 Military Wives," "The Sporting Life," "Of Angels and Angles" and "On the Bus Mall" were all standouts, but at the conclusion of the main set came the big-finish audience participation number, "The Mariner's Revenge Song." Meloy told the crowd to watch for its cue and "scream like you're being swallowed by a whale." No problem, matey. --Christopher Porter
Buy some Decemberists.Posted by CP | Link |
Monday, October 03, 2005
Brazilian Girls
"Don't Stop"
Brazilian Girls
(Verve Forecast, 2005)
I'm back to writing for the Washington Post after a five-year absence. Here's the first review....
Washington Post, Monday, October 3, 2005; Page C05
Brazilian Girls
You'll have to forgive me for not remembering much about Brazilian Girls' first song at the packed 9:30 club on Saturday. I was too busy trying to figure out if singer Sabina Sciubba was naked save for the expertly placed black censor bars over her private parts (and one over her eyes). It wasn't until later in the set, and after a thorough journalistic investigation, that I determined she was wearing a flesh-colored bodysuit. Still, when the black bar covering Sciubba's chest finally fell off I nearly fainted -- along with the rest of the audience. Such is the seductive power of Brazilian Girls, none of whom are from that country and only one of whom is a woman.
Sciubba grew up in Rome, Nice and Munich, and is comfortable singing in Italian, French and German, as well as English. Throw in her performance-art bent and she's the perfect frontperson for Brazilian Girls' cosmopolitan club music, which touches on everything from samba and reggae to house and lounge. The New York band's sometimes bloodless self-titled debut received a complete transfusion in concert, with Sciubba doing her best to get hearts racing while Didi Gutman (keyboards), Jesse Murphy (bass) and Aaron Johnston (drums) injected tunes like "Die Gedanken Sind Frei (Thoughts Are Free)," "Sirenes de la Fete" and "Me Gustas Cuando Callas" with a lot more thump. Plus, it didn't hurt to see Sciubba shimmying along to the sensuous songs.
One highlight was when former jazz singer Sciubba led the Girls through a fever-pitched club version of the Cole Porter standard "Just One of Those Things." But the pinnacle occurred when the crowd climbed onstage for the great dance single "Don't Stop," with people of all sorts shaking their booties with wild abandon. "Don't touch the musicians," Sciubba said, though stealing kisses on the cheek from the sexy singer appeared to go over just fine. --Christopher Porter
Buy some Brazilian Girls.Posted by CP | Link |
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