I was talking to my friend Josh the other night. Josh was mad because he had just come back from visiting an artists’ retreat in the Marin Headlands, and he felt that the space and opportunity were being wasted on a lot of the artists in residence up there. Apparently artists are selected by some sort of committee and then are given room, board and a giant art space amidst the beautiful redwoods at the foot of Mt. Tamalpias - all for free. The idea is that without having to worry about stocking the fridge or paying the rent, the artists will be able to focus all of their time and energy on their art. The result will be more and better art that everyone can enjoy.
Whether or not the artists taking advantage of this are living up to the full potential of the opportunity is beyond me. But I will say that this is a great idea. Too often in this country the value of art is measured only in monetary terms. People rarely appreciate what abstract things like beauty and curiosity bring to our lives.
Other countries have figured this out though. Canada, France, and many other nations have programs that support artists in ways that are completely free of commerce. These countries put art - and the artists who make it - in the same category as public parks. As such, everybody contributes to their upkeep so that everybody can enjoy the benefits of having them there.
If you really want to stretch this idea, I suppose you could say that’s why we have Portland. The rainy city to the north is still a bastion of cheap rent and poor kids from art school trying to blow the world’s mind. Portland is especially well suited for musicians, since almost everybody there either likes playing, listening to or talking about music. Plus, all those cheap houses have basements that make for great practice spaces. And when it rains 349 days a year, what the fuck else are you going to do?
This is why Cameron Spies moved up there. Tired of the rat race here in San Francisco he left for a city where he could afford to make music and not die of starvation. That was last year and now Spies is back in the city by the bay for a show with not one, not two, but three new bands. His pet project Soap Collectors is at the top of the order and Phantom Kicks will be batting clean-up. In the center of the line up is his most personal project, the semi-ironically named Spesus Christ.
Spesus Christ makes music that is actually closer to art. The three tracks on their second EP are splatter painted with echoing guitars and voices drawn out into church-like reverb. Keyboards, pianos and drum machines make cameo appearances implying hip hop and electronica, but often disappear into the ether just when you get your head around them.
The whole package is experimental and a little unsettling, yet oddly enjoyable. It’s good to see an artist painting in something other than the every day colors. And it’s good to know that Spies only had to move to Portland to do it. Otherwise, I would have had to write this in French.
Spesus Christ plays The Hotel Utah Thursday 4/22/10 with Phantom Kicks and Soap Collectors
There has been many a phrase coined to describe the bare essence of rock n roll, but what I think it ultimately comes down to is taste. You can have the skills, but without the look and the attitude you’ll be stuck playing Steve Vai covers in your bedroom forever. You can have the look and the attitude, but without some kind of musical ability nobody will buy your records. You may feel cool now, but in 20 years you’ll be the old guy with all the tattoos making angry lattes at the coffee shop.
If you have taste, it serves as your guiding light. You know you want to make good music and your senses lead you down the proper path. You may not be born with Jimmy Page’s fingers, but you have the good sense to at least take some guitar lessons. You might not look like a male model, but you know better than to get on stage wearing jean shorts and a fanny pack.
More importantly, if you have taste you most likely have the ability to pull the whole package together. This is important in the modern world of rock n roll because these days it’s not just a band, it’s a brand. You’ve got your music, your album art, your videos, your merch, your website, and your social media. And if you want to make any money from it then the whole thing better be pretty fucking spiffy.
This requires a unified vision, not to mention a pretty serious work ethic. A shining example of this can be found in the LA band Saint Motel. I don’t know where they find the energy and diligence necessary to sustain their prolific output. They only have one album out and they’ve already made at least six music videos. These videos are not cheap, throw-away art projects either. They’re full-blown, MTV style affairs complete with fly-away sets and elaborately staged funerals.
They also play a lot. They are almost always on tour and - I will have to confirm this with their management - I think they play LA something like nine times a week. When I saw them at Spaceland last year they showed up at the club three hours early with an army of art students to decorate the place like an elaborate psychedelic dream. People walked into the club, took one look around and knew they were in for a show.
I tell you all of this because Saint Motel will be playing the Rickshaw Stop this Monday night (4/19). Their infectious brand of indie rock meets 1970s FM fuzz will put your week in perfect alignment. Topping off the bill are UK up-and-comers Band Of Skulls, a pretty kick-ass band in their own right. If you have taste, style, class or even just common sense you can prove it to the world by showing up and getting down.
Two of my favorite bands are playing tonight at Slim’s. If you happen to be in or around SF, I highly recommend you check it out.
The Whigs are a rock band band in the truest sense of the words. They play loud, charging songs that somehow manage to conjure up an entire life’s worth of sunny days, dark nights, heartbreak and lust. As I once told a friend, The Whigs’ music is simultaneously the perfect soundtrack for a fishing trip, a long drive or a late night beer drinking contest. From what I’ve heard so far, their new album doesn’t quite have the magic of the first two. But having seen these guys live before I can still promise one of the best performances you will ever get a chance to see.
After 12 years and 7 albums, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club have officially cornered the market on bad ass rock n roll. Their music is the aural equivalent of a pair of dark shades or a well-worn leather jacket. Just putting it on automatically makes you cooler. Given their predilection for heavy distortion and fuzzy electronic howls, I can’t say that I would pick them as a perfect match for The Whigs’ more organic sound. Still, having two great bands on the same bill like this pretty much guarantees an awesome night out.
I recently got rid of all my CDs. After years of buying, trading and collecting albums, after dragging them across the country, after loading most of them onto my computer and after watching them gather dust for the last two years I finally decided to get rid of them. I sold as many as I could and I gave the rest away to friends. It wasn’t easy parting ways with my collection. And at 1000+ CDs it was an actual collection, one that I had carefully cultivated and was quite proud of.
But by now you know the story about compact discs. They are outdated technology and they don’t even last as long as they’re supposed to. Not only that, but a lot of my CDs were first pressing, which is something good in the world of vinyl, but in the world of CDs it means my CDs are shitty, inferior versions of the fancy new CDs the started making in 1999 or whatever. Long story short, most of my CDs are now living out their golden years in the bargain bin at Amoeba Records.
It’s kind of funny that I feel such an attachment to these CDs. The obvious recipient of my affection and nostalgia should be the albums - i.e. the music, the cover art, the liner notes. And while the music is ultimately the most important thing to me, I still feel a real attachment to the physical CD. I liked seeing all of those CDs stacked up on the shelf. I liked looking at their spines all lined up in a row. I liked the bounty their sheer volume seemed to represent. Somehow looking at a really long playlist is just not the same to me.
What’s funny about this is that owning a physical copy of the music is a relatively recent phenomena - and it’s already dead. For most of human history, music only happened when it was played live. People only started buying vinyl in a real way after WWII. And the LP didn’t see popular use until the late 60s. Before that, you listened to live orchestras on the radio or you just bought sheet music and hoped somebody in your house learned how to play it on piano. Before that you either went to the symphony or you listened to some drunken troubadour playing lute down at ye ol’ inn.
I’m wondering if that made music more special somehow. If music was more of a rarity, something brought out for special occasions only, it stands to reason that it would be treated like a delicacy. I mean, compare that to now, where you can download pretty much any song you want whenever you want, you can see on-demand music videos and concert footage, and the most popular songs and artists end up appearing ad nauseam in commercials, movies, restaurants, bars and birthday parties. These days, silence is more of a rarity than music.
But I’m a junkie so I still crave it. Honestly, I can’t get enough. And I’ve decided that after selling all my CDs and wearing a digital hole in my iPod, I need to go back to the source for some uncut pure shit: live music. In the words of Axl Rose, I used to do a little, but a little wouldn’t do it, so now I do more and more.
That’s right, I’m putting more live music in my life and I’m starting with the Wolfmother show at The Fox next Monday. (Actually, I’m starting with the Conspiracy of Beards show tomorrow night, but that’s as much for the spectacle as it is for the music.) I’m kind of playing it safe here, since I know this will be a straight-ahead brass tacks rock show. Heartless Bastards are also on the bill which ups the ante to level 8 awesomeness. And perhaps most interestingly, thenewno2 are opening up the show.
This band features loud electric guitars, strange synthesizer noises, beautifully syncopated drums and some oddly (purposely?) amateurish drum programming, an offspring of the Beatles, wandering psychedelic flourishes and what I hope will be a whole lot of volume. This is the kind of thing you go to see live music for - a sound, a performance, an experience. Judging from what I’ve seen online (guilty!), thenewno2 definitely bring the thunder. To continue with the food metaphor, Wolfmother may be the bread and butter of this show, but I’m counting on thenewno2 to whip up something special for dessert.
thenewno2 plays The Fox Theater in Oakland on Monday 11/23/09 (with Wolfmother and Heartless Bastards)
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