Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Concert Review: James Hall(acoustic) at The Circle Bar on October 9, 2009

It might be overkill for me to write about James Hall at this point. Still, after I saw him perform an acoustic set at The Circle Bar on October 9th, I got a feeling that re-affirmed my zeal for his music. I felt that he was "the guy," basically, that it begins and ends with him. That's worth noting, considering Hall has been making music professionally for twenty years. People and things change, but a James Hall performance remains a religious/spiritual experience. I think he's getting better, too. With a tambourine at his feet and his voice the main instrument, Hall was less afraid than ever to show his pain. I've been touched by Hall's songs before, but I haven't been as touched as I was on this night. People love Hall because he extends himself to express something we all feel, but this night, he extended himself further.

With no band behind him to compete against, Hall had much more vocal room to match the tone of each song. He drove home a point by lowering his volume, drawing people closer to his every word. He also put a button on his songs by raising the volume, either in anger, as he did for "Assassination Row," or in hope, as he did during "There Is An Answer."

Hall pulled material that was new and old. Some came from his new band, The Futura Bold("For The Riches," "Room to Room"), while others came from Pleasure Club(a killer version of "Revolution in Red") and his solo material("So Precious").

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Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Concert Review: Twangorama at The Circle Bar on October 8, 2009

I could only hang with this group for batches of songs at a time because they left me exhausted, in a very good way. I musta worn my eyes out watching the hands of three of the best guitarists in New Orleans--Jimmy Robinson, Cranston Clements, and Phil DeGruy--move like hummingbird wings across their guitar necks.

The group, which has been together since the late '90's and also features six-string bassist Paul Clement, played enjoyable folk fusion, but I was less concerned with the music than with the extraordinary exercises they were going through to make it. The melodies and guitar harmonies they created were beautiful, but I enjoyed them more for the fact that my eyes couldn't keep up with what my ear was taking in.

This evening was billed as an "acoustic" night, as they certainly weren't as loud without their drummer. Still, the only one playing an acoustic guitar was Robinson. It was a twelve string that managed to shine just as brightly as the sounds of Clements' electric. I enjoyed how the metairie homes for sale of each guitarist had their own sound--Robinson was acoustic, Clements was clean and bright, and DeGruy was darker, dirtier, fuzzier. I noticed a hierarchy, as well. Robinson was the leader, while Clements took the second most solos and DeGruy the third.

They played originals but shone when they took on covers, especially their seemingly endless medley of '60's and '70's rock covers. Each bit lasted for five to ten seconds, and I'm not sure how long it took to connect them properly or learn the order, but I'm pretty sure I'd be sickened if I did know.

The three of them were each monsters in their own right, throwing out chords that I'm not sure I've seen before. Mouth agape, they left me dumb. I really hate to get too hyperbolic, but their technical excellence is an example of what humans can accomplish when we practice, practice, practice.

Friday, October 2, 2009

Concert Review: Monotonix at One Eyed Jacks Sept. 27th, 2009

Monotonix never touched the stage. The rock trio from Tel Aviv began their set at One Eyed Jacks Sunday night by clearing a way for their drummer, and the crowd surrounded them on the floor and started to go batshit as soon as the music began. Monotonix's music sounds like abandon as much as their show embodies it. It's chainsaw fuzz guitars accompanied by pounding drums and a screaming frontman. The kind of stuff it's easy to headbang along with and mosh to and even, as I saw a few times, crowdsurf to.

Monotonix have become known for a freedom of expression. They encourage it among the audience by displaying it, by becoming a part of the audience, moving their drums and focus from floor to bartop to balcony and back down again. I think that people get so crazy at their shows because they know they've been given the OK to, by the band, and also because they think there's a good possibility something fucked up might happen and woo-hoo! to that.

By stepping outside of the traditional boundaries of performing and putting themselves on the line physically, they've created their own lore and set themselves apart. There's certainly a method to this madness, but I haven't quite figured it all out yet, not that I expect to or even really want to. I like believing in Monotonix, and their brothers-in-arms The Giraffes, as much as the next person. I know the band did request all plastic--no glass-- for the show, though. And they seemed to have figured that wearing next to nothing(small running shorts) facilitates the kind of craziness they're into.

I don't remember one person not being into this show. Sure, some stood back and watched, in awe it seemed, but most got into the circle and became it. I love not knowing what's gonna happen next, and Monotonix is awesome for giving that feeling out.

Concert Review: Clint Maedgen and Helen Gillet at The Patrick F. Taylor Library on Sept. 26, 2009

Never to be re-created again, local musicians Clint Maedgen and Helen Gillet played a live score to the movie "Deliverance" at The Ogden Museum's Patrick F. Taylor library Saturday night. The score was commissioned by The Ogden, and it fit wonderfully into the movie.

At some points, the musicians confidently covered dialogue in order to increase anxiety and foreboding. The most prominent musical piece seemed to appear when characters were travelling, whether in car to the river or actually canoeing on a dangerous stretch. The milder version included a cold bed of nervous electronic percussion covered by ominous cello. The FUBAR version included that base augmented with errant theremin noises and overall nervous noise that made the movie more fun to watch. And in the case of the rape scene, more difficult. But, in a great way. The music got me deeper into that moment when Jon Voight is waiting for Burt Reynolds to shoot his arrow.

I appreciate that the incorporation of the music was so well thought out and prepared. There was purpose to each piece, as exhibited when music ended on a perfect beat, maybe right before talking began again. And also, it never sounded like the music was being performed live. It just seemed to be connected to the film. There was definite precision going on.

The movie has been accused of being slow, so I was happy when a song sung by Helen Gillet helped to move along the film when Jon Voight was seeking out one of the killers. Gillet's voice was beautiful, and if I remember correctly, the slightly hopeful(at least sounding) song was a nice juxtaposition to maybe the most hopeless part of the movie. What, this guy, who we've already been shown can't fire a bow--he's gonna climb upwards, leaving himself open to attack at all times, towards the killer waiting above? A longshot.

I enjoyed how Maedgen and Gillet slowed down dialogue to create a disorienting effect and how they used director's commentary in places for educational and humorous purposes.