Saturday, March 26, 2011
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Damien Jurado, live at Sonic Boom in Ballard.
last night kate and i went to see damien play a free show in our home neighborhood of ballard. we tried to see mr. jurado over the weekend at easy street records during kexp's hood-to-hood festivities but were late arriving after the photo-showcase thus causing us to be jammed way to the back of the store. we could hear him, but it was mostly a wash. the upside though, was that we got to buy copies of his new record Saint Bartlett in advance of yesterday's official release. last night's show was spot on. in a near pitch-perfect replication of his previous in-store for the release of Caught In The Trees, damien's son miles managed to humorously distract his father- necessitating the kind of goofy song restart one might imagine taking place at home, on the living room floor. Thursday, May 20, 2010
POLAROID

Monday, May 10, 2010
Jonathan Richman @ The Tractor Tavern


Thursday, March 18, 2010
Rocky Votolato - True Devotion - live @ kexp

True Devotion marks the 6th full-length record (out 2/23 on Barsuk) from Seattle resident and ex-WaxWing frontman Rocky Votolato. In the decade following the demise of his band Rocky has crafted some of the most beautiful and honest music to ever come out of the Emerald City. After what’s felt like a very long time away I’m happy to report that Mr. Votolato is indeed back.

In the years following the release of his last album – The Brag and Cuss (2007) Rocky went through a widely publicized dark time– characterized by the arrival our old friend’s self-doubt, depression and anxiety. Trapped within the four walls of his mind Votolato reportedly stopped writing and touring altogether opting instead to hole up in his apartment for months on end studying existential philosophy, physics and theology.

In much the same way that “Lilly White” opened The Brag and Cuss – True Devotion’s “Lucky Clover Coin” sets the tone for the album to come:
Your eyes are broken glass the shattered light
Shines on everything you see
There’s a world I want to leave behind
Where a sunset in a constant bloody winter
Gives the only light, and with it I hoped I would disappear

In just five lines Votolato paints a vivid picture of where he’s been for the last three years. Even more important than finding his way through the immediacy of these thoughts is the recognition of their lasting presence and a need to remain vigilant:
You’re keeping me alive
‘Till the sunlight shows spring roses in water
And for the rest of my life
I’ll put your broken pieces back together

Much thinner than the majority of his previous release (barring “Whiskey Straight” and“Silver Trees”) Rocky’s latest effort leans heavily on the minimalist instrumentation and vocal strength of his earlier work. Given the timing - this fresh take on Makers, A Brief History and Suicide Medicine makes perfect sense. Beneath somber strings and delicate strumming True Devotion’s redemptive arc becomes apparent:
I want to spend more time with you
Because you make me happy
It’s something I’d been so little of
But you showed me that I can be
Everything is right, Everything is wrong
Letting go is the best way to hold on
So watch the light dance in the dark until it’s gone
Sparklers only burn for so long
Like “All Things Must Pass” before it Votolato reminds us that there can be no good without bad. No flowers without rain. No happy without sad.- the knowledge of which allows us to enjoy the individuality of life’s moments without fear or regret.


Through all of this clarity one gets the sense that Rocky is seeing the special people in his life through new eyes. “ Sun Devil” reintroduces us to the muse of “Before You Were Born” (from The Brag and Cuss). To his love of more than a decade Votolato shows his gratitude:
True Devotion and True Virtue will hold you at the center
As the waves crash over
Some things are forever
And your love is an Anchor

As the closing moments of True Devotion’s final track – “Where We Started” fade into same strings as its first we are once again reminded of the freedom attained from simply letting go.


Gandhi once said that the most important battle to fight was overcoming one’s own demons, fears, and insecurities. True dat Mahatma. I thought about starting this off by telling Rocky Votolato how important his work is. How his last two albums have been instrumental in my own discovery of love. How the tone of his voice has been a source of friendship over the last several years – high-fiving me through the light (Makers) and sitting up with me through the dark (The Brag and Cuss). My first inclination – after finally getting to hear Rocky’s latest masterpiece – is to just say thanks.

So here it is. Thanks Rocky.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Ce n’est pas un examen Califone: live at UW HUB Auditorium 12/3

I’m the kind of person that gets stuck on repeat. I’m the kind of person that get’s stuck on repeat. I’ll discover a song that walls up around me in a way that shuts all other songs out. Sometimes it lasts for days sometimes weeks. I think I listened to a song once for a month straight without the slightest consideration for what else I might be missing. These songs keep me up at night. When I finally fall asleep they inhabit my dreams. Yes, I have problems (but have you ever skated a full-pipe with Morrissey while reading the Sunday Times?).
Along the way these songs, always bouncing around inside our heads, become the soundtrack to life. The things we see and do. Each time we smile, every failure and every success, every look in the mirror, every hi-five given and every hug taken. However bizarre or mundane, each grain of sand has a song beneath it. We make them into mix CDs and give them to loved ones in hopes that they might better understand the complexities of our individual films.

Lately my film has been stuck on “Funeral Singers,” from Califone’s most recent album and feature film of the same name, All My Friend’s Are Funeral Singers (Dead Oceans). As the centerpiece to Califone’s cinematic songwriting Tim Rutili has always used poetic imagery and tone to provoke feelings. Despite its roots in folk, Rutili’s music is never overtly focused on a strict narrative, making shadowy songs like “Funeral Singers” all the more applicable to one’s own life. Waking up last Thursday morning, I wondered how the evening’s live performance and film screening at the University of Washington’s HUB Auditorium might alter my thoughts on the song. Would the application of specific imagery and dialogue fade the track from my mind once and for all?

As per usual we arrived early and had to wait just outside the auditorium’s double doors for a good little while before the show/film was to begin. Having spoken to the band earlier in the day during their (phenomenal) in-studio performance at KEXP, I knew that the second leg of the tour had employed a new sound engineer — the UW show being the first of his dates. As the boys tinkered, my date and I shared a bit-o-honey (despite talking a load of shit I discovered an affinity for this dinosaur) and discussed the comedic merits of backwards jokes and whoopee cushions. It’s what we do.


Soon enough, we filed in and found our seats amongst a rapidly filling theatre of excited guests. How often is one given the opportunity to experience a film score performed live? As Rutili, Becker, Adamik and Massarella walked out on stage I gave a look around and realized just about everyone was smiling. For once it seemed as though not a single person in the audience had been dragged there; no one was tricked, bribed or duped into seeing this film. Lovely. After a brief introduction the players took their places in near total darkness — individually angled backward as to keep all eyes on the film — and began to play the opening sequence.

he film centers around a thirty-something clairvoyant woman named Zel (Angela Bettis of Girl Interrupted, May). While Zel takes in the occasional mortal for Tarot Card readings and the like her main source of companionship is a relatively large and varied cast of ghosts, several of which happen to play folky post-rock (Califone). While Zel considers these apparitions to be her only family, Rutili hints at Zel’s underlying desire to live a normal life, often surrounding herself in moats of salt over which the spirits can not pass. At first the ghosts are a real bunch of Caspers, helping Zel make money contacting dead relatives and picking winners at the track. And your own personal band of funeral singers to boot? Could be worse in this economy, right? Well, things go awry one evening when the ghosts discover a magnetic light in woods surrounding the house. As they attempt move into the light, the ghosts discover they are in fact trapped within the walls of Zel’s home. Ghosts no likey being trapped. Believing it is Zel that has trapped them in this purgatorial halfway house, the ghosts decide to torture their apparent captor. Suddenly, the music becomes a continual barrage of noise. The lucrative perks of knowing ghosts? Also gone. After a creepy customer almost cuts her, Zel realizes that despite her attachment to them any hope for normality (or just some god-damn peace and quiet) hinges on the freeing of her ghostly counterparts.
While all of this plays out under the auspices of a loose narrative structure, the meat and potatoes of Rutili’s film, much like his music, is largely free-form and surreal. Similar to Luis Bunuel’s partygoers in The Exterminating Angel, and even Ingmar Bergman’s Knight and Squire in The Seventh Seal, Zel’s trapped ghosts are a boundless vehicle for the dreamlike discussion of larger philosophical questions. Greed. Freedom. Morality. Death. Desperation and loneliness. Emotional Purgatory. The presence of God. Simple Survival.
Broken up into verse-like chapters, the major movements of the film correspond to various human superstitions (three of which are also tracks from the album) and remind the viewer that questions are being asked. What are your answers?
Throughout the film and brief follow-up set, it was easy to see that the band was truly enjoying themselves up there on stage. Tim Rutili and the rest of Califone should be commended for the success of such an ambitious project. To conceptualize and write a double-LP’s worth of songs and a screenplay is an undertaking in and of itself, but to then fund, direct, act, promote and play live to the film in 20 cities? Holy shit, there’s something to hang your hat on, bub. Oh yeah, and as of Thursday the film was officially accepted to the 2010 Sundance Film Festival — so if you happen to be in Park City please do check it out. Redford and company usually have a good eye for this sort of stuff.
As you may’ve already concluded nothing has changed for me with respect to “Funeral Singers.” I’ve listened to it today more times than I care to admit. It’s still mine for exactly what it means to me — but now it means more. I’ve taken the song and added it to my experience. To that I’ve added the film to get to where I am now. Where I am now is good. Different than where I was before.
And that, my friends, is the beauty of art.












