Electric Shepherd at the Hemlock Tavern

Please don’t send me twenty five options for dinner.  Why don’t we just eat by the Boom Boom Room? Ok, 1300 on Fillmore looks good.  You’ll meet me at work?  Perfect.

Why does it take thirty minutes to find a cab in this town?  Yes, baby, I know that there are hotels and restaurants that way but I usually find a cab over here.  There’s one.  You were right again baby.

1300 on Fillmore looks rad!  Where do they put the bands?  Behind the curtain?  We should definitely check that out sometime.  I wonder what “twenty minutes extra wait” for fried chicken means in a half empty restaurant on a Tuesday.  Manhattan?  Yes.  Good wine too.  Chicken is okay, but your fish is amazing.  You always know what to order!  It is nice to just sit here and shoot the shit.  Excellent and friendly service.

Boom Boom Room is just up the block.  Looks like those guys are rolling a joint in broad daylight and not even trying to hide it.  Cops in this town will probably light it for them since they only have matches and it is windy over here.

Franziskaner is out?  Ok, let me taste the Arrogant Bastard.  Whoa!  As bad as I remember.  What about Stella? Out too?  Is it a problem with the CO2 or something?  How about Negra Modelo?  Thanks.  Yes, I got introduced to this beer by my cousin who likes it because of the name.  Yes, I’ve told you that before.  Good beer.  Not as good as Bohemia though.

I wonder which guy is Justin.  He said that he “might” be wearing sunglasses because his onstage persona demanded it.  I’ll go talk to the band.  Oh yes he’s in DVO.  I’ll go ask those guys.  Thanks.

Thank you for taking the time to meet with me!  It is so cool that you founded livemusicblog.com.  Did you live in New Orleans?  Chicago huh?  Nice!  We want to visit.  You have equipment for a podcast?  Perfect!  We want to get that going again.  We should meet again to talk video and not be rushed, I agree.

What a long sound check.  NVO does sound really good though.  Hate to run, but we have to catch Electric Shepherd at the Hemlock.  They played Brick & Mortar Music Hall earlier this month and had a nice write up in SF Weekly.  Always easy to catch cabs here, another reason to love the Boom Boom Room.

Hemlock Tavern, Interior, Night.  Me:  “Who’s up next?”  Doorguy looks at lineup on wall.  Shouldn’t you just ‘know’?  I mean you have one job here man.  Yes, we’ll take earplugs, this place is crazy loud.  I’ll get beer.   I can’t believe that there is no one here and we get to sit right up front!  Great band!  Awesome set!  Really glad that Electric Shepherd are SF locals.  Want to see them again.

Performance Review: Bouncing Souls at Slim's (or the worst mosh pit I have ever seen)

Image by Sofia Salom. This last Tuesday, one of the big names in Pop Punk played a show at Slim’s in San Francisco. The Bouncing Souls, who have been playing since they formed in New Jersey in 1989, headlined an evening that brought back an almost perfect vision of my youth and going to poppy, “pogo” influenced punk shows throughout the south bay in the 1990s and early 2000s. Intermixed with overpriced booze, an angry, seemingly bald, glasses wearing bartender, the entire night was beaming with nostalgia. 

The opening band Luther, who seemed disappointed that the majority of the audience was there for the headlining band, was reminiscent of the Promise Ring and a little Broken Social Scene, while still trying to be metal.  The Mezingers, a really awesome four piece band fronted by a diminutive but loud and passionate individual, who screamed and bounced his head off on the stage, really stole the show for me. Their songs were catchy, well formed, and evena had a Springsteen and Lawrence Arms feel; singing with a visceral element which the rest of the night lacked. 

When the Bouncing Souls were set to come on stage, in my usual “I am not that old” mentality, I went to the very front of the stage and Mosh pit area. This being a poppy punk band whose music had made be jump around for at least fifteen years, I was excited for a bouncy-sweaty-crazy-fun time. This was my first time at a Bouncing Souls show and I wanted a high kicking anthem fun time. That is not what I found. Ignoring the actual performance for a minute here, I feel the need to highlight the mosh pit. Keeping in mind that I have seen plenty of bands at Slim’s and have had amazing experiences before, you have to realize that what I found was akin to a mosh pit black hole. The large span in the center was devoid of anything, as if a previous mosh pit had collapsed and sucked in everything around it, leaving only a small swirl of activity on the outer rim. When I finally grew tired of being punched in the back by the same jerk, who didn’t really get the point of mosh pits, I threw him down and walked back to my ever growing bar tab. 

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Performance Review: Dita von Teese at The Fillmore

Dita von Teese, her name itself harkens back to some past era of mystique, sexuality and glamor. With her luscious curves and corset trained body, she is a woman who has dedicated her life to the craft of burlesque.  For those unfamiliar with burlesque, it is the art that mixes strip tease with vaudeville - sexy, playful, and always a fabulous show. This last Tuesday marked the last night of the San Francisco leg of “The Queen of Burlesque” and her talented entourage’s tour.  I was lucky enough to score a last minute ticket and check out this fantastically magical show with some good friends. 

The Fillmore was full of patrons decked out in retro outfits and fanciful ware. The drinks were large but pricey and there was already a line of enthusiasts at the table selling all sorts of risque swag. I must say, as a virile young man, that I was ultimately as distracted as a puppy in a yard full of bouncing balls with all the beautiful tattooed women in their vintage dresses and done up hair, until the MC drew the attention of the crowd behind a gigantic blue curtain. The crowd silenced, then exploded like a tsunami with the mere mention of Miss von Teese.

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Music Review: Kyuss

Image by Botellita de CieloIf you’ve been unfortunate enough to have never heard Kyuss then this write up is for you.  Kyuss got their start performing local desert parties throughout the Southern California area in the early 90’s.  It was not until the release of their 1992 album “Blues for the Red Sun” that they were recognized for their unique downtuned guitar signature sound and became the pioneers of stoner rock, influencing many great artist to follow. 

Kyuss followed up their debut with two more perfect from start to finish albums.  “Welcome to Sky Valley” was released in 1993, and then “And the Circus Leaves Town” in 1995, which was the last release before they disbanded.  I never did see the original band live, but in 2010 Kyuss re-formed as Kyuss Lives! which included all the original band members except for guitar player Josh Homme.  If they happen to tour anywhere near your area don’t miss it. 

“and I want to know, did you all enjoy the show”

Gardenia

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The Butcher Shoppe Cast Episode 7: ShoppeCast Comes Alive!

Image by Hunter-Desportes

Episode 7: ShoppeCast Comes Alive! with Suburbanaut, DMZ, and Momus.

We’re big music nerds here at Bay Area Butchers, and this week’s podcast is all about live music.   Listen to us discuss our first concert experiences, favorite shows, bad audiences and good venues.  We manage to jam in some punk pontification and take a couple shots at laptop bands as well; all in less than 22 red-hot minutes.

Additional Reading:

Extra Action Marching Band
Alice Cooper - Official Site
Primus - Official Site
Iggy Pop - Official Site
Dead Kennedys - Official Site
Anticon Records - Facebook
Fugazi - Dischord Records Site
Bad Religion - Official Site
Gilman St.
The Crystal Ballroom
Slims / Great American Music Hall - Official Site

 Subscribe to our podcast

Music Review: Dead Meadow

Image by Goodnight LondonChances are you have never heard of Dead Meadow before. They are under the radar and in my opinion one of the most underrated bands today. Hailing from the D.C area, this band formed in 1998 and released their first full length, self titled album in 2000. I stumbled across Dead Meadow one day while mindlessly browsing on YouTube and have been a fan ever since. Though typically not one to label music into sub-genres, but with their flowing melodies, crunchy riffs, and technical drumming, I would place Dead Meadow in a Stoner/Psychedelic Rock mix genre, however there is no need to be baked to enjoy them. Give Dead Meadow a listen, and if you like them, I highly recommend purchasing The Three Kings Vinyl + DVD combo. This album simply rocks. It is a combination of new songs and live versions of songs that span the life of the band. The DVD features a full live concert with visuals throughout. After I watched the live show, I had to upgrade the sound system on my TV.  It’s that good.

Below is a list related YouTube videos.  There’s a couple of Dead Meadow songs and a few other bands similar to their genre:

Dead Meadow: Greensky Greenlake

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In Defense of Detroit

 

Most of the planet has written off Detroit and it really pisses me off.   I’m tired of only seeing people post about the neglect like some abandoned eastern bloc factory.  They have those in Europe.  Dicks. 

There is so much beauty and fun in Detroit.  Yes, the city is fucked up. In Detroit, 200% more people are below the poverty line than the national average.  Household income is 50% of the national average.  Detroit is also the only major city in the nation that still has some dirt roads.  All of that being said, I love my hometown.  The people, food, arts, and especially the music will always bring me back.

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I Want To See Iggy Bleed

Tonight we see Iggy Pop.

Now this is how I want to spend my birthday.  The anticipation has been building for years.  I have listened to Henry Rollins for over ten years go on about his goal to out-perform Iggy on stage (only Rollins thinks it’s a competition by the way).  The show we are going to tonight is a rebooked one.  The original show was postponed in July due to Iggy breaking his foot at the first show on the tour.  Fucking awesome. 

The Warfield is at 6th and Market streets.  This is my least favorite corner in San Francisco.  The crackheads, meth addics, and newly released from jail schizo-crack/meth-addict-hooker-zombies all vomit downhill from the Tenderloin using Taylor and Mason streets like a winter Olympic slalom.  The slalom flags are swapped out for shiny objects, drugs, and tourists (victims) to harass for money.    There are people passed out in the streets and alleys during daylight hours in summer.  I haven’t seen that since I was last in Detroit.  Luckily for us the show is now on the cusp of winter and only the die hard zombies who can battle the elements are roving about.  Fun.

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Are We Not Men?

I never thought I’d get to see this band.  When I first heard them I thought it was a sketch on SNL or SCTV.  Is this real?  More than I could of imagined; not just the band existing as real people making real music, but their point was succinct: Devolution is happening.  It’s hard to disagree after the last decade.  Over twenty years later, I’m finishing a long festival day at Coachella and willing myself to walk and stand and walk for an hour of Devo; Who knew when or if I would get another chance to see fucking Devo live, so with my wife and DMZ in tow, we head to the Mojave stage, stopping at the back, no energy left to fight closer.  

“What’s with the fence?” asked DMZ, referring to the twenty five by fifteen foot black, see though, chainlink-like screen hovering behind the stage.  The surrounding Palm Trees could be seen through the screen, an atmosphere creating feature of Coachella stages I’ve not seen elsewhere.  

“Hopefully we’ll find out soon, my feet are not happy.” I whine weakly.    

“Suck it up fat boy,” quips the wife in good humor.  She’s excited, having listen to some pre-festival Devo and found they made her happy like few other bands.

With that the black ‘fence’ came to life, sprawled with brilliant colors and fast paced clips of the bands early years interspersed with animated Energy Domes.  Devo took the stage, dark silhouettes in front of the now opaque screen, and launched into a song off their new, at the time unreleased, album Something For Everyone.   It’s quickly clear Devo has been upgraded.  No longer handcuffed by the limited audio technology in the 80’s (which they used to brilliant effect) they sounded better than ever. The new song was catchy, the late-night crowd was moving, we were all slowly compressing as the song and screen drew us in closer and closer.   

“Don’t Shoot” they shout in precise unison, “I’m a M-A-A-A-A-A-A-N” belts Mark Mothersbaugh.  It was Devo in the modern world.  The screen, beautifully sleek and simple, turned the show into an instant party.   

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Postcard from The End of The World: Chapter Two

Click Here for Postcard from The End of The World: Chapter One

The 19-year old kid sitting next to the left of me at the bar was sloshed, and I wasn’t far behind.

And yet by the time the night was over the Duck had won over a crowd of at least six people with his vocal talents (or lack thereof)…

I had expected my last night in Cabo San Lucas to be a relatively ho-hum affair, as I eschewed the raucous Happy Ending Cantina in favor of the live jazz spot that had been as dead as week-old roadkill two nights previously.  Imagine the thought of seeing the Mexican version of L.A.’s Marty & Elayne (of Swingers fame) playing a venue with the groaner-induced name of ‘Two for the Road.’ The above image is an actual picture of the ‘talent,’ who also happen to own the joint.  When I arrived, as before, I had the bar all to myself.

The keyboardist was a pretty talented guy who knew some of the same cats I did from my old jazz club days back in the Big Apple. As far as the singer went… let’s just say that the more I drank, the better she sounded - and judging from the increased joviality of the handful of folks who had trickled in as the night wore on, I wasn’t alone in my assessment…

The aforementioned inebriated lad was the embodiment of the teenager on vacation in a country where he can legally get his drink on, but without the trained liver to get past 3 drinks without pulling out the stupid life-is-great grin and its partner the slurry-hey-there-buddy voice out of his sock drawer. (And don’t go telling me you don’t know what I’m talking about ). His parents weren’t that far behind, leading me to believe the kid wouldn’t be the only one hung over the next day. I didn’t think ‘Enabling’ was a chapter in Dr. Spock’s Childcare Guide, but I don’t have any kids - that I know of, anyway - so who I am to judge?

At the next set break, the rubenesque chanteuse flitted around the venue like a butterfly in her silvery muumuu, drinking her cosmo and getting chatty with all the customers. She knew it was my last night in town, so she made the most time for me. The conversation turned to Annie Ross’ version of Twisted, which we both agreed is the best one. (Sorry, Trouble and all the rest of you deluded folks who think the Joni Mitchell rendition is better).  She asked me if I wanted to duet it with her on the last set of the night, which I politely declined out of the concern for the aural health of my fellow patrons. I have a singing voice which is almost, but not quite as pleasant as a screaming cat being dragged across a chalkboard table.  She seemed to accept my turndown gracefully, and moved to the next lush down the line.

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96 Hour Party People

I have dreams about my first Coachella music festival.  It all started with one sentence in January 2004 uttered by some afternoon DJ on 105.3 KITS in the Bay Area, “Radiohead’s only US date is at Coachella this year.”  What the fuck is a Coachella?  We scored tickets and were woefully unprepared.  We got to the campground a little too early and spent the early afternoon searching for shade.  Finding none, we drove out to the Salton Sea for a bit.  Finally setting up our camp as the sun was setting was beautiful.  We tossed a gallon of Jack Daniels over the security fence to some waiting party members.  Our neighbors were LA vampires who wore all black in the 110+ degree heat!  We also met a group of people who snuck into the campground and the venue both days.  All five were road tripping around the US, met on the road, and were from five different states: Montana, Missouri, Georgia, Florida and Virginia.  They looked like they just started a bluegrass band.  We also met a guy named Squirrel who took too much Ecstasy and need supervision.

Pickle gives me shit for liking the Radiohead performance so much.  Yes, the Pixies reunion show was great and all (does anyone not like “Where is my mind?”) and The Flaming Lips show and astro-ball descending from outer space is listed as one of Rolling Stone magazine’s best shows ever, but rock was made for the night.  Night is where everything is hidden, waiting to be discovered, where possibility lives, and anticipation is frenzied.  By the time Radiohead came on that night I had lost my friends, made some new ones and we all sang along, grooving to the music, completely mesmerized.  Kraftwerk was ‘ok’ too.  Along with The Killers, Elephant, Paul Van Dyke and The Cure.  The night was electric.  It was like New Year’s Eve in April.  I couldn’t wait to do it all over again, albeit with more pre-bought shade.  Much more.

The 2005-2006 Coachella’s had some surprising standouts, but I mainly went for the fun of being at a crazy show and camping with my friends. I remember 20,000 girls dancing to “Erection” by The Faint in 2005 at the Outdoor stage, and there again, in the front row, for “Tear You Apart” by She Wants Revenge in 2006.  2007 was the last decent lineup of that initial run and it definitely delivered.  Manu Chao and the Rage Against the Machine reunion show, with the fire in the monstrous mosh pit, are times that I will never forget.  And I doubt I’ll ever top Gogol Bordello, for my first time, in the intimate Gobi tent thanks to Tiffanie and Momus.  We didn’t go again until 2010, where LCD Soundsystem got it (re)started, Les Claypool took us to Venus, and Atoms For Peace was a funk juggernaught made from meteorites crashing into the Outdoor Stage.  AFP played Thom Yorke’s entire solo album with Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers (whom are henceforth known as “The Flea Show”).  Flea is the Muppet’s Animal on the bass, furiously attacking the stage next to Thom’s beautiful, spastic dance. You are always surprised at Coachella, you will find interesting, new bands, make new friends from around the world, and all at around two dollars per act.

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