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").

metairie real estate

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.

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.

Concert Review: Canderella's Ball at One Eyed Jacks on September 12, 2009

This was a fun, long night that ended up raising much money for Candace Lamb. It was a great show of support.

War Amps, the new local boogie stoner metal band, started the night off. It was dark, heavy stuff, and the crux lay in the dual guitar attack of Paul Webb and Tom Beeman. I already knew Webb was good. Now I know he's great. It was nice to see him be able to spread his wings a bit.

I like how the band found room for smart, proggy exercises within the sludge. Seemed like Strawberry, the lead singer, spent half his time offstage, pacing around and headbanging along to the music.

Next up was Narcissy, the local garage rock trio. They got their best reception yet. And they rolled hard with that good energy, turning out impassioned, wonderfully dirty versions of their "FU" and "we don't give a fuck" rock ethos.

Happy Talk followed, bringing along cellist Helen Gillet for texture. One song struck me, a new one. It was more ethereal and ambient than their other material. It reached for this emotional place and got it. I love watching good bands push themselves and get better. Kudos.

I think it might have already been around 1 when Happy Talk finished, so the crowd was beginning to thin a bit, and unfortunately, by the time Clint Maedgen went on with his one man looping station, he was met with love but not quite as much as he's used to.

Big Rock Candy Mountain didn't go on until 2:30, but by that point, the people left over didn't care. Every time I've seen BRCM I thought they were missing something, and I thought it had something to do with the songs. But, they just needed a better drummer. Their new one really propels the songs. The band knew how few people were left, but they were thankful for them. They showed it by going for their throats, holding nothing back. Guitarist Andrew Hartsock looked a little perturbed, but he used transferred that energy into the songs, giving them a punk force. On their MySpace the band describes their music perfectly by just listing their influences: The Dismemberment Plan, The Flaming Lips, Queens of the Stone Age, and Led Zeppelin.

Concert Review: Alexis Marceaux and Sam Craft at The Circle Bar on Sept. 7th, 2009

Alexis Marceaux is a native New Orleanian that recently burst back onto the scene. Her folk/soul had enough unexpected, almost proggy changes to set her apart and keep me on my toes when she recently shared a bill at The Circle Bar with Sam Craft.

Her subject matter was nothing new for a female singer-songwriter--the travails of the heart--but her sweet, tender melodies kept the music from sinking into schlock. It also helped that she was comfortable onstage. I've seen enough mousey performers that are just "happy to be there."

She was most confident with her soaring voice, her greatest weapon. She coated the music as she pleased, laying back, playing it lean and straight or going for it, pushing her voice in an impressive showcase of her improvisatory skill. She had quite the range. When she reached her higher register, she sounded like a bird.

Craft, who had been accompanying Marceaux on violin and synthesizer, took the reigns next. Whether on solo acoustic or synthesizer, he proved that Glasgow songs could hit home without a band. It took me to see Craft to play this set to realize how talented he and his brother Sam are as songwriters. My favorite of the set was "Samurai," a song full of rock opera bombast and smart dynamics. It was a fun up and down ride, really well-crafted.

Songs That Go Together

There are songs on classic rock radio that must be played together. You can't have one without the other. They are Queen's "We Will Rock You" and "We Are The Champions," ZZ Top's "Waitin' for the Bus" and "Jesus Just Left Chicago," and Led Zeppelin's "Heartbreaker" and "Living Loving Maid." All these songs follow one another on their original releases, so there's that. But, why have these songs managed to stay joined at the hip?

With one second left in "Bus," the song seems resolved. But, then there's a quick snare flourish. This would be taken as an eccentricity, except that it syncs up with and seems a perfect lead-in to the beat in "Jesus." Also, there's less than a second between the two songs, which makes me believe ZZ Top wanted them played together. This leads me to a point about the Zep and Queen duos, which isn't entirely my own. I'm not the first person to ask the "what's the deal with..." question, and when I found a thread about this topic, I also found this thoughtful comment from thanotopsis:

"There's zero silence between them on the original recording. A radio station either needs to crossfade into a new song, or talk over the fading song as it leaves the air. You can't do that on either Heartbreaker or We Will Rock You without starting to play Living Loving Maid and We Are The Champions."

Away from the radio, like "Bus" and "Jesus," these songs can be played apart, though it feels weird. Hell, ZZ Top recognized this. It's hard to find live clips of the band where the two songs aren't joined. Also, Queen, most notably at Live Aid, played "Rock You" and "Champions" successively(strangely enough, according to wikipedia, "Champions" was the A side and "Rock You" was the B side to the original UK single, but since rock stations in the US were playing "Rock You" and "Champions" back to back, in that order, Queen's US label released the two songs as a double A-side single). Seems like Zeppelin is less concerned with the adjoinment of "Heartbreaker" and "Maid," as "Heartbreaker" was included in the 1990 "Remasters" and 2007 best-of "Mothership," while "Maid" is not on either record(it's well documented that Page doesn't like "Maid," a reason it was never performed live).

We've dealt with the technical aspects. On to any thematical similarities between the songs. "Heartbreaker" and "Maid" both deal with a prostitute, so I see why they seamlessly flow together. I like to think that Jesus is the main character of "Bus" and that "Jesus" is a kind of prologue to "Bus," but that's just me. As far as Queen goes, there is a connection, at least a perceived one, between the two songs, but I won't let myself break them down. I would sound we todd ted, and I fear I would never recover from the downward spiral of music dorkitude that would follow. Gotta leave that one be.

I welcome your comments. What are some other songs that must go together?

http://www.ask.metafilter.com/41048/Why-will-no-one-break-the-champions

Superdrag "Aspartame"

Concert Review: Caddywhompus and Giant Cloud at The Circle Bar on September 1, 2009

I knew what I was getting myself into, standing in front of the Marshall amp and the drum kit with the oversized kick drum and ride cymbal. Still, Caddywhompus were loud! And vibrant and motivational. There were times where, propelled by a disjointed rhythm, I wanted to throw myself against a wall or the buncha packed crowd behind me, but they didn't look like they wanted a mosh pit. And, also, just when the dancey, noisy, herky jerky parts would build up and catch my interest, they'd morph into something else--a different mood and direction.

The local psych/noise/pop duo pulled a quick change often. But, because of how tight they were, drummer Sean Hart and guitarist/vocalist Chris Rehm always sold it. Not once did I question their decisions. I was probably too disoriented, lost in an ADD haze. Haze is a good word, what with Rehm's trippy, processed vocals and how the band would repeat one part over and over again in an attempt to create a trance.

The vocals helped and hurt. They added a bit of romance to the volume, but they could also be shrill. I enjoyed the band the most when Rehm stepped away from the mic and bounced back and forth in front of his effects pedals to their sometimes hard-edged, metallic rhythm, dancing exactly how I wanted to be dancing.

I have a feeling every show's gonna be different with these guys. Looking forward to it.

Giant Cloud, also from here, were the perfect chaser. They were more gentle and dreamy, but I'd have to say both bands were coming to and from an Abbey Road direction. Giant Cloud even played an awesome(I mean spot on really awesome) version of "Don't Let Me Down." The Park The Van band's music was so delicate and pretty it put me in a daze, sitting at the bar, drifting away somewhere nice. Talk about romance. This music was all sunflower breeze and soothing harmonies. An open field.

The barrelhouse piano added some nice texture, too.

I was happy to see so many people stick around to see Giant Cloud. They knew what was up. Click on the title link for Giant Cloud's myspace page.

Let's sneak into this genre right here and cause some damage

Turns out the guy who served me coffee today, Greg Rodrigue, is also a member of local ska/punk stalwarts Fatter Than Albert. "Stalwarts," in the New Orleans sense, means any ska/punk band that has made more than one album and gone on more than one tour. And survived. That seems kinda rare here.

So, Greg from FTA also co-runs a local ska/punk label called Community Records that has eleven national bands from that genre. He had a funny view on ska/punk, which was that 80% of it sucks. I said it was unusual for someone in a band, especially a owner of a record label, to think a majority of the groups from the genre he/she operates in is horrible. To that, he basically said that operating in a sucky genre was advantageous because when you release something of quality, people are that much more likely to notice. The standards have been lowered, and when you produce something better than average, it comes out looking super, super awesome.

He also said the guys in Black Belt used to be in a ska/punk band called the Supaflies. I did not know that.

*Click on the title link for the Community Records website*

A Funky Return?

I talked to a friend tonight who's a member of The Cripple Creek Theatre Company. He said the company is looking to lease the building that previously housed much-loved jazz venue The Funky Butt. He said the company is interested in using the space for productions and possible concerts. Of course, this is all on the horizon, but even the possibility of it warms my heart. Just to step foot in that building again would be nice, even if the name and purpose of the space was different.

Concert Review: Downtown Brown at The Circle Bar on August 30, 2009

I was sold on Downtown Brown when during their cover of Michael Jackson's "Wanna Be Startin' Something," lead singer/guitarist Neil P. was reciting "Ma Ma Se, Ma Ma Sa, Ma Ma Coo Sa" while fake crying. I'm not sure exactly why it was funny, but I was laughing hard and happy these dudes from Detroit were at The Circle Bar.

The party rock trio were tight and composed of accomplished musicians I could see tackling Rush and Tool covers(drummer had a double bass). They certainly didn't take themselves that seriously, though. While changing mood and tempo(from death metal to reggae), Mr. Bungle style, Neil P. was likely to be singing about mullets, tanning salons, or werewolves. These guys were weird--Frank Zappa style.

Though it's been a while since I've needed a message of noncomformity, it was still fun to hear them rail against frats, Maxim Magazine, girls who go to tanning salons("Orange Bitch"), and the conformity of the noncomformists, The Warped Tour("Sit in the Pit"). That last one was probably the funniest. Neil P. went pre-puberty with his voice and became the character of a teenage boy trying to have a romantic evening with his girlfriend in the pit. A high point was when the band played rank John Mayer-type music while spouting some pretty offensive lyrics. And then how bout the time Neil P. played a dreadful solo, hitting all the wrong notes, just for comedy's sake? Too much good stuff happened.

Neil P. was a constant ball of energy. He made his mark when he got face to face with one audience member and contorted his face to say, "Look at this awesome solo I'm playing! How am I doin' it?! How amazing am I?!" At random points during the set, he got up close and personal with those at the bar he felt weren't paying enough attention.

Downtown Brown started the set by introducing themselves as the country's premier Sublime tribute band. Neil P. said, "This song is called 'Wrong Way.'" And then they went into some death metal.

Click here for an interview I did with a N.O. police officer on September 8, 2005 about Katrina

Concert Review: Alex McMurray at d.b.a. on August 28, 2009

I'm not sure if I've ever seen Alex McMurray so animated. At his CD release party for "How To Be a Cannonball" at d.b.a. Friday night, the less-than-bubbly and hard-to-impress McMurray shook off his low-key demeanor during his band's more raucous songs. He seemed pushed to new heights by drummer/vocalist Carlo Nuccio and keyboardist/accordionist Bob Andrews, who provided a solid foundation lined with sharp edges. I could certainly see their spontaneous flourishes sparking a brain fever in McMurray. I know it happened in me. The danger element was elevated because of so much push and pull in the music, and as a result, the music rocked hard. McMurray was possessed by the spirit, disjointedly jumping to and fro while burning off impressive solos. Like he couldn't get it out fast enough, never play fast enough.

The older crowd left over from Ingrid Lucia's happy hour set tried in vain to dance to some of the mid-tempo numbers, which were just as likely to change direction, tempo, and mood. They were stubborn about dancing, as if they wouldn't know how to enjoy the music any other way. This was annoying to me and I'm sure a couple other people the dancers bumped into on their way to drunk heaven.

A highlight of the first set was the album's title track, a delightful tale about apprenticing at the circus. At the end of the song, Nuccio played a snare roll that recalled the same sound you hear before a human cannonball is launched. When Nuccio stopped the roll by hitting his snare hard, he made a rainbow motion over his head with his right hand. Besides the great music, quirky moments like these were a reason why McMurray's band was so fun to watch. Each member looked like he was having a grand ole time, but Nuccio was the main jokester, sending seat-of-his-pants, "yeah, i just did that" smiles to bassist/vocalist Joe Cabral during songs and cracking jokes on the mic between them. A second highlight was "The Woman I Love," which featured all three vocalists. Even though a new song, the crowd took to it well. It built and built into a fraternal euphoria, a chant of stubborness that the audience took on.

Cabral is an excellent player, but he seemed out of place, less than confident, and less than a presence on this night. He was laying back when he should have pounding. Matt Perrine works better in that spot.

Impulss video for DO IT featuring Prince Po

"Do it!" by Impulss from From PartsUnknown Films on Vimeo.

Kick #1: T. Rex

Click here for my imeem Frank Black playlist

"Wait, did you just say there's a drunk at The Julep Room?!"

My Mom and StepDad just moved to Ocean Springs, MS from Kenner, and while passing through town on my way back from a three day vacation in Gulf Shores, I visited with them and picked up a copy of local newspaper The Gazette. Now, I know David Letterman has already made fun of Ocean Springs for their uneventful and eccentric police blotter, but after seeing it for myself, I felt the need to revisit the topic. The reports are just too funny. I wonder if the people of Ocean Springs know how silly these sound to people who live in cities with crime problems. I guess it's relativity.

--A man reported his conpany cell phone lost.
--A threat was reported on the 3700 block of Cabildo Place
--A knife was found on the 100 block of Hickory Dr.
--A drunk was reported at The Julep Room
--A mental case was reported on the 400 block of Bills Ave.
--There was a report of littering on the 300 block of Trentwood Dr.
--There was a report of joyriding at 3109 Bienville Blvd.
--A paper delivery person reported that a person was lying under the truck in the driveway

Concert Review: I, Octopus at The Circle Bar on August 21, 2009

With new stickers and t-shirts in hand and the band's first full length, "I'd Rather be a Lightning Rod Than a Seismograph," about to arrive on their doorstep, I Octopus rolled into The Circle Bar Friday night for a 65 minute set.

The last concert review I wrote about the local instrumental rock trio was for a Twiropa show back in 2005, when former Rotary Downser and current A Living Soundtracker Matt Aguiliz was on drums. They've improved a great deal since then and even since the last time I saw them proper, maybe about six months ago. I remember them leaving room for improvisation, which led to noise tirades that sometimes didn't flesh out. That's not to say they weren't a great show back then. They were, showing off the same sense of adventure and melody they possess today. But, now, their songs seem to be more streamlined, more purposeful, more direct. When the noise jams hit, they're within a structure, within a pre-set field of dynamics.

The group's songwriting has improved, and as a result, their nuance has deepened. There might be three or four mood changes in one song. They rock out, take the volume down, rock out, then take the volume down for half as long, unexpectedly kicking ass(who's writing this, my long lost trucker twin?). In other words, their diversions are smart and welcomed.

Instrumental music isn't the easiest thing to sell, but with their songcraft at such a level, I'm excited to see what kind of friends I, Octopus can make on their upcoming first tour.

R.I.P. Coach Rodney Louque

It's hard to imagine my life without Coach Louque having been in it. He was my track and field and cross country coach at Jesuit from 1991-1996. Those track meets in eighth grade and those cross country meets--all those Saturday mornings at the Lakefront--those meets we travelled to as a team--the way that I learned to push myself as a runner and a person--the fact that most of the friendships that I still maintain came directly from track and cross country. I'm scared of who I'd be without Coach Louque in my life. Without those friends, without cross country...I don't know...I'd be a worse person, that's for sure.

Coach Louque has affected my life to such a degree that I can't fathom it. I love that man, and I thank him.


Visitation will take place Friday, August 21 from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m.
at the Garden of Memories on Airline Highway. Visitation will also
be on Saturday, August 22 beginning at 9 a.m. in the
Chapel of the North American Martyrs on the campus
of Jesuit High School. A Mass will be celebrated at Noon,
followed by burial in the Garden of Memories.

In accordance with the wishes of the family, donations may be made to the general scholarship fund of either Jesuit High School (4133 Banks St.; N.O. LA 70119) or Catholic High School of New Iberia (1301 Delasalle Dr.; New Iberia, LA 70560-6790). Indicate your donation is in memory of Rodney Louque. If you wish to send flowers,
send them to the Garden of Memories; they will move them here for Saturday’s services.

An article taken from www.jesuitnola.com about Coach Louque:

Rodney Louque, a beloved teacher and coach at Jesuit High School for 23 years who exhibited enthusiasm, compassion, dedication, and spirituality in the classroom as well as on the field, died on Wednesday morning following a courageous four-year battle against cancer.

Mr. Louque was 65-years-old and, since arriving at Jesuit in 1986, had taught biology and physical science while juggling coaching responsibilities for Jesuit’s football, track, and cross country teams.

Coach Louque was married for 40 years to Jeanie Stein Louque, who teaches computer science at Jesuit High School. They have three daughters and six grandchildren. One of their grandsons, Tyler Gonzales, is a Blue Jay and member of the Class of 2013.

“The entire Jesuit community extends its heartfelt condolences and prayers to Coach Louque’s family,” said Michael Giambelluca, principal of Jesuit High School, who added that Coach Louque could have elected to retire any time after his cancer was diagnosed in spring 2005.

“But the most important thing to him was continuing to teach and coach,” said Giambelluca. “Coach Louque wanted to live life to the fullest by serving as an example for high school students and athletes everywhere that we all face challenges in life, and we must face those challenges head on and never give up.”

Coach Louque’s battle against the disease involved aggressive chemotherapy and radiation treatments that frequently left him exhausted and depleted of energy. Yet, even after teaching several classes, he could often be seen wearing a big straw hat and sitting in a chair under the shade of a large oak tree bordering the Will Clark Field behind Jesuit while his team practiced nearby.

“He pushed himself to attend most practices and competitions despite the ill effects from his treatments,” said David Moreau, Jesuit’s athletic director. “We all felt very fortunate whenever he was seen sitting under the oaks calling out instructions and words of encouragement to his team. I know that his students and players also felt extremely grateful for his dedication to teaching and coaching.”

Whether teaching biology or physical science, Coach Louque came to class prepared and knowledgeable about his course material. He always began class with a prayer and enjoyed a great rapport with his students. Although he admitted his organizational skills could be better, Coach Louque wrote that he hoped his students would judge him as a teacher who “really cared and loved them unconditionally.”

Over the years, Coach Louque served as an assistant coach for Jesuit’s football, cross country, and track teams. For a time, he was also head coach of Jesuit’s track team as well as the cross country team. One of the highlights of his head coaching career was when the 2003 Blue Jay cross country team won the state championship. It was the first of four consecutive state titles that the Jesuit cross country team brought home.

Coach Louque received a bachelor of sciences degree in science and physical education in 1969 from the University of Southwestern Louisiana (USL) in Lafayette (now ULL). He immediately started his teaching and coaching career at Hanson Memorial High School in Franklin, LA. During this time, he finished work on his Masters degree in education at USL.

Coach Louque taught and coached at several high schools before signing on at Jesuit High School, including Catholic High School (New Iberia), Vermilion Catholic High School (Abbeville), and St. Charles Catholic High School (LaPlace).

He believed that teachers at Jesuit High School should always be truthful, God-fearing, and embracing of diversity. “Put God above everything else and be truthful to the mission of Jesuit, which will continue to be a diverse community,” he wrote. “To know that my friendship with the teachers who I have taught with through the years was important to them and myself is how I hope my success as a leader will be judged. I would like to be known as a faith community builder.”

Concert Review: The Blue Hit at The Circle Bar on August 19, 2009

The Blue Hit is exactly the type of indie/folk/pop band Paste Magazine would be all over, and I think I mighta scooped them for once. It felt like I was watching something special last night at The Circle Bar. Something I might tell people offhandedly three years from now, about how I saw them before they got semi-big, while sounding like a self-important ass in the process.

The Blue Hit is an Austin trio consisting of vocalist Grace Rowland, cellist David Moss, and acoustic guitarist John McGee.

Though McGee and Moss were obviously accomplished musicians that I could see playing in trad jazz bands on the side, most of my attention went to how well Rowland acted out the lyrics. She was a little too good. It was a bit uncomfortable, in a great way, as she narrated a song about cheating in a relationship while her face and voice displayed the condescension and lack of remorse in the cheater.

When she took on a character, she really took it on. If there was a martial tone to the song, she marched, and if a song displayed exasperation, she threw her right hand up to her hairline. She gave herself to the audience, leaving no comfort zone she could revert to. She was vibrant, 100% there--a method musician.

One highlight was a song of spooky, pastoral lyrics. The music boasted beautifully constructed soundscapes that were theatrical, and with or without the vocals, would have sounded great on any horror movie soundtrack.

One thing I liked about this band is that mood was diverse. Another great song from the set was a heartbreaker that showcased the coupling of Rowland's soaring voice and the bowed cello. The cello is pretty great for making things sound sad.

Click on the title link for their Myspace page.

Concert Review: Eric Lindell at The Circle Bar on August 17, 2009

A few songs into the third set, Eric Lindell and his trio pulled out "Hard to Believe." In front of seven hardcore fans who survived a packed house, Lindell had such an arsenal of songs that he could still shower them with a great one.

Though it was wistful, tender, and heartbroken, the song was sexy and full of efficient, spacious groove.

The same groove that the band found throughout the night. It seemed to appear from playing minimally and well-arranged R&B. Though there were some impressive, sudden, twists and turns in the song structures, what each song went back to again and again was a solid pulse that, for example, Lindell could solo around. His solos were always pleasing and tasteful. A succession of yesses.

Though some of the lyrics were obvious and a bit sappy, Lindell's choice of covers or originals was always ace. The music just works, is undeniable in such an intimate venue.

A beautiful commiseration. Warming the heart by breaking it a touch. Among friends.

Concert Review: The Armed Forces at The Circle Bar on August 16, 2009

The guitarist jumped off the kick drum but didn't hit the ground when the drummer hit his cymbal. Still, A for effort.

This power pop quartet from Nashville is still learning its way around a stage(they look like they're 21 or 22), but their songs leave little to be desired. Catchy melodies--check. Two-part harmonies--check. Attention to dynamics--check.

There's a reason they're called The Armed Forces. They certainly sound like they've listened to that Elvis Costello and The Attractions album over and over again. Add a bit of The Cars, an open ride cymbal, and the bitter wit of Costello and the heart on sleeve lyrics of The Replacements and you'll be pretty close to the presentation of The Armed Forces.

The leader's guitar and vocals got lost in the mix, but that's about the only criticism I have for the band. Just keep kickin' out the subtle nuances. This pop rock songwriting thing isn't easy.

Concert Review: Rotary Downs at Le Bon Temps Roule on August 14, 2009

Going to see a Rotary Downs concert is like catching up with an old friend. Things may change in my life, but there's Rotary Downs, solid.

I love seeing them at Le Bon Temps for two reasons: 1. it's a powder keg of a rock venue, even though that's not what you normally see in there. It's got a basement party, everybody get drunk and crazy vibe. 2. It's three blocks from my apartment, so I can drink a lot.

I was hoping they'd already be going when I got there at 10:50, but they didn't start 'till around 11:30. When they did, the room was full, and some friends showed up to make the night more fun: Patrick, Colby, Marc, Tamara, Mary, and Kathleen.

I got up in the front row and was asked to scoot aside by some dude. Really? At a rock show? I obliged, though, and laughed with Patrick about it before the band started the set with "Lantern," my favorite song off their last album, "Chained to the Chariot."

They came out with that one almost three years ago, and along with the band, I'm a little anxious for the release of the new album they've been working on with The Living Room, The Music Shed, and Mike Napolitano. Their concerts have become more and more new song-centric, and it'd be nice to have a reference point.

When the band was slipping in a few new songs into their set, I didn't care, but then there was a point when they were playing a bunch more new stuff when I hadn't had a chance to get to know the material. I wasn't digging that. But now, I've come back around, cause I've just seen them enough that I know the new stuff pretty well. My friend Mary hadn't seen them since around their last record release, and she said they sounded different. I can imagine.

I like that the band is evolving, taking a chance with more expansive songs, while still sounding like themselves. I'm slow to make too many assumptions about the new material as a whole, but it does seem like they've moved away from the shorter, poppier songs and embraced a more epic, loping, and psychedelic style.

The band was pretty tight last night, and their cramped quarters seemed to encourage that. Bassist Jason Rhein was right on top of drummer Zack Smith. They were eye to eye the whole night, trading smiles and knowing glances. I love watching a band that looks like they're having fun. It makes it that much easier to get with them and have fun, too.

Rotary Downs played a long first set, took a decent break, and came back with a set that I didn't see the end of. I couldn't hang. They musta gone 'till around 3. The best part of the second set was guitarist Chris Columbo's note-for-note solo during The Cars' "Just What I Needed."

P.S. In between song breaks, Colby turns to me and says, "You know they're one of the best bands in the country, right?" And I guess I kinda thought that in the back of my head, but it always sounded crazy because they're from here. It doesn't sound so crazy now that someone else has said it. It sounds right on.

Concert Review: Hairspray Blues at The Circle Bar on August 12, 2009

This punk band from Portland, Oregon was all about speed, volume(in the form of constant thrashing cymbals or pounding toms) and angry release.

Of less concern was the tightness of the music. The duo of drums and guitar/vocals was loose, but their attitude kept me engrossed in their performance.

Drummer Leslie Stabile dramatically threw her arms around the kit and made sexy eyes at her guitarist husband Kyle Stabile. In between screams and out-of-breath tirades, he smiled right back.

The band was a lot of fun, an invigorating mix of hotrod garage and Motorhead.

On The Road with Gal Holiday and The Honky Tonk Revue

After three sets of country in two days, I felt raw. These tales of woe, especially the ballads, were getting to me. I stood on the side of the stage as Gal Holiday and The Honky Tonk Revue played their second set of the Natchitoches Folk Festival on Saturday, July 18th. I was tagging along with the local country cover band for their weekend journey into the hills of Louisiana, and I was starting to fall in love with their songs. When the tempo slowed and the focus went to the voice of Vanessa Niemann(a.k.a. Gal Holiday), she dazzled. Anyone can have a great voice, but that's not the point. Niemann infused hers with real emotion, real hurt, like she was conjuring something universal from wherever they kept the lost souls.

"I select songs based on my passion for them and my life experience and whether they fit my voice," Niemann said during a recent interview. "I'm singing my story through characters. If a song sounds killer with my voice, it's more likely we'll perform it."

The heart-wrenching didn't end with Niemann. During a ballad solo, guitarist Dave James hit me with a beautifully minimal, winsome performance, the kind where every note hurts to hear. A beautiful malady that made my heart heavy, but in a good way. The band was so tight they sounded like a recording, commissioning couples to ballroom dance and fill the floor inside Northwestern State University's Prather Coliseum. The group was like a machine but not quite--almost perfect.

Along with classic country, The Honky Tonk Revue covers rockabilly and western swing. Typical sets include songs from Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline, Tammy Wynette, and Merle Haggard, to name a few. Last month in between sets at The Circle Bar Niemann asked if I wanted to travel with the group to Leesville and then up to Natchitoches. All I could think was, "Rock and roll road trip!" I needed to get out the city, and I figured hanging with the band would be fun and that maybe something interesting would happen. I couldn't have imagined it would entail hip hop line dancing in Leesville.

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After meeting up with Niemann and bassist Dave Brouillette at drummer James Clark's house at noon on Friday in New Orleans, we took off in Brouillette's white prison van, metal grates still covering the side windows(guitarist Dave James and fiddler Clyde Thompson took seperate cars). There's something very appropiate about travelling down the highway in a prison van with a country band. Country music played on the stereo as I sat in the back and talked with Clark about John Cage, the destruction of ego in songwriting, prepared piano, and drummer JoJo Mayer's popular DVD, Secret Weapons for The Modern Drummer. Clark later read his Anne Rice novel while I took in what little scenery there was: pastures and corn fields.

After a five hour drive, we pulled into Leesville, which is 50 miles west of Alexandria and the home of Fort Polk. When the band played at The Sugar Shack later that night, they were actually just south in New Llano, LA, a sleazy, dilapidated stretch of highway that offered Daiquiri "specialists" and a strip club. I cringe at what the girls in that place must look like.

Before hitting the motel, the full band met up inside Big Dog Country KVVP for an interview with Rik Barnickle. Rik is a large, gregarious fellow, the kind of man who was born to play Santa Claus at Christmas. Since he comped the band's dinner and motel cost and drinks, Rik was a very real reason they came to town. Rik saw Gal Holiday a few years back, and ever since he had been trying to get them into Leesville. He played the group's music the week leading up to the show and was also giving away Gal Holiday t-shirts over the air.

The band walked into The Sugar Shack around 7:30 to setup for their 9-1 a.m. gig. The venue's about the size of The Howlin' Wolf, with Nascar hoods and driver portraits on the walls and tiny stock car lights hanging over the pool tables. About one out of every four men there sported cowboy hats, and almost everyone was fairly unattractive. Not super ugly or a scary, disorienting mixture of backwoods funk a la Ponchatoula's Strawberry Fest. No, these people ran together. They just seemed like they were the bottom of the food chain, like anyone who was attractive in Leesville left long ago for greener pastures.

After the band's first song, Vanessa gave a history and told a story about the upcoming song, an ingenious ice-breaker that she'd use throughout the set to keep connecting with the audience. She has experience with that. As a child, Vanessa wanted to be an actress, and she even went so far as to go to a magnet school for acting. It was only after she realized she could incorporate her acting talents into a singing performance that she started to devote more and more of her creative time to music.

"Onstage I'm performing. I'm playing a character," Niemann said.

Niemann is direct, biting, witty, and businesslike. Gal Holiday, on the other hand, is all earnest, welcoming smile, posture and presentation, a vision of country that's reminiscent of Reese Witherspoon's take on June Carter Cash. Speaking of Carter Cash, the crux of every Gal Holiday performance and the song in which she puts her acting skills to best use is her duet with Dave James on "Jackson," originally performed by Johnny Cash and June. Niemann and James become the bickering couple, James singing low and Niemann hamming it up and striking poses.

"Gal Holiday is a fixed persona because I want them to be more than just cover songs," Niemann said. "I want it to be a show, and I don't want the fact that we're a cover band to overshadow the intense musicianship in this band."

The best example of formal musicianship in The Revue is Brouillette, who studied upright bass at Northwestern and was close to getting his music degree before he felt the need to get the hell out of Natchitoches. When it comes to solos, Brouillette impresses more than anyone else in the band. His speed and his flamming on his gut strings made a hardcore, cowboy hat wearin', tobacco-chewin' dude at The Sugar Shack say, "Now that's what I'm talkin' bout!" It's fun to watch Dave James look at Brouillette in appreciation and a bit of wonder, time after time, like he's never seen it before. Dave James is a pretty awesome player himself, a man who could solo all day, a man who makes me scared of his ability. It's like the music flows through him, like he's made himself such a conduit that he doesn't even have to think about what he's gonna do next--it just happens. The band member that plays with the least fat is Clark. He plays only what the song needs, nothing more. Barely any fills. He performs each song the same way gig after gig, laying out a solid map the rest of the players can follow and subsequently get tighter off of. Next time you see the band, check out his huge, ridiculous pocket. It would take a lot to get him off his beat. Last but not least there's Clyde Thompson on fiddle, a wonderful complementer who's such a silent force that when he plays rhythm on songs that weren't recorded with a fiddle, you don't realize it until later.

During the first set Rik sat down next to me and said, "Watch out for The Vietnamese girl in black. She hustles the G.I.'s and she'll take you for it." This was a sizeable, tough, possibly confused crowd that was more used to contemporary country bands. Dancing was minimal. I felt like they sat back and judged the band, not feeling pushed at all to get into the music. As long as they were with friend and drinking and playing pool, well, the music was secondary. The applause was minimal between songs. They livened up real quick, though, and started line dancing on the wooden, newly buffed floor when the DJ played between sets. I stared in amazement when people started performing a pre-approved line dance to a hip hop tune that was popular a few years back. As if they thought, "Oh, it's that song, and this is the way we dance to that song." Pretty much the most surreal and disorienting moment of the trip.

During the second set the Revue performed one of two originals, "Blue Ridge Baby," a song about Niemann's rural roots in the mountains of Western Maryland, where bluegrass and folk music was everywhere. As a child Niemann got into rockabilly and only later progressed into country. Her parents were into old country and the type of music Gal Holiday performs, but at the time she thought of country as the contemporary stuff she heard on the radio. She went to barn dances and folk festivals--exactly the kind they hold in Natchitoches.

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The drive up to Louisiana's oldest town the next day was beautiful. The sloping hills, the thin tall trees. The first set of the day was a test for the band. This was an older, more family-oriented crowd not known for their acceptance of rockabilly in their country. Vanessa's tattoos probably weren't helping, either. The Revue acquiesced a bit by taking "Cocaine Blues" out of their sets, but ultimately they didn't change their approach. Their first song was an up-tempo barn burner full of solos that left one woman with arms folded and a complete look of horror. But, as the set progressed, many took to the dancefloor, and by the end of the set, a sizeable crowd had gathered behind those seated.

People is Natchitoches are pretty serious about their crafts. There was a guy making violins at the craft fair. Making. Violins. Let that sink in. After I read through his illustrated guide to making a violin, I was thoroughly impressed and amazed at how many different things can go wrong during the process. One woman was selling lye soap and giving out her recipe, while others were making baskets and spooling wool to make shirts. The best was the family dyeing eggs with successive patterns before adding minute detail with a tiny, heated utensil tipped with ink.

Between the Revue's first and second sets, I took a moment for myself and sat under a oak tree on the edge of Chaplin Lake. The greenery rustled with the wind, and after I calmed myself, the speed of the river flow seemed to coincide with Radiohead's "Pyramid Song." I drifted and I felt alright.