Reviews of albums, films, concerts, and more from the Bay Area Music and Movie Nerds
The 34th annual Frameline LGBT Film Festival, which remains the largest of its kind in the world, will take place in San Francisco from June 17-27. Packed into those eleven days will be hundreds of narrative films, documentaries, and shorts covering nearly every conceivable angle of the LGBT experience from just about every corner of the globe. After the jump, Spinning Platters helps you narrow it all down by picking three films from each of four main categories.
Last night, supermodel/singer/rock-n-roll wife Karen Elson kicked off the opening night of her very first tour with a sold-out concert at Café Du Nord. When I learned that the show was sold out, I was intrigued. Why was the interest in Ms. Elson already so piqued? After all, she has but a single album to her name, The Ghost Who Walks (Third Man), which was produced by Elson’s husband, Jack White, and just came out on May 25. The buzz has been modestly positive, if not hyperbolic.
So who were all these fans and looky-loos? Were they committed White Stripes fans whose enthusiasm for the group extends even to its spouses? Or was it a decidedly stranger subculture of model-turned-singer fetishists resentful that Tyra Banks’ “Shake Your Body” and Naomi Campbell’s Baby Woman never took off stateside? Or maybe, like me, they were just your garden variety redheaded-girl-singer fans.
Continue reading “Show Review: Karen Elson at Café Du Nord, 6/8”
Could it be possible that Jakob Dylan actually prefers to exist in the shadows of others? I mean, seriously. First he makes the questionable decision to get into the exact same line of work as his father. And if that line of work was, like, plumbing or something, then fine. But if Bob Dylan is your father and you decide you’re also a folk-rock singer-songwriter? That’s like Janis Joplin’s (rhetorical) daughter choosing to become a boozy bluesy hippie, or Moses and Apple Paltrow-Martin deciding to start insufferable lifestyle blogs and rip off U2 for a living — your parents pretty much pioneered the concept, so why bother?
The 53rd annual San Francisco International Film Festival concluded last night, thus ending this year’s edition of one of our fair cities’ most enduring and enriching cinematic traditions. After the jump, I’ll recap some of the festival’s highlights, ranging from Serge Gainsbourg lookalikes and Tilda Swinton speaking Italian, to James Schamus dismissing Brokeback Mountain enthusiasts and Jason Reitman teaching Terry Zwigoff how to be a douchebag.
Continue reading “SFIFF in Review: Roger Ebert, James Schamus, and Other Highlights”
Last night was yet another opportunity for San Francisco’s considerable population of Ohioan expatriates to cluster around and listen to one of our homeland’s finest musical exports. Dayton and Cincinnati were enthusiastically represented by the barreling, moody Midwestern rock of Heartless Bastards, while Akron was represented in absentia by The Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach, whose influence is largely responsible for the recording careers of both the Bastards and opener Hacienda.
I have always considered myself a big Courtney Love fan. I know that sounds bizarre to many, but I’ve followed her long, strange career like some follow their favorite sports teams (or so I’m told). It just so happens that Courtney is like one of those sports teams that has far more failures than triumphs, and tends to flunk random drug tests. But she usually comes through when it counts, and no matter how much her reputation has suffered over the years, I have never been capable of anything less than total love and adoration of her. Sadly, Nobody’s Daughter is just the latest challenge to that love.
After a seven-year hiatus, bestselling Christian singer/songwriter Jennifer Knapp —who always stood apart from her contemporaries in terms of her musical grit and unadorned emotional ferocity; who created some of the most iconic songs of her genre and generation, such as “Undo Me” and “A Little More,” — came back with two big announcements: (1) she’s returning to music; and (2) she’s a lesbian. Predictably, the latter has eclipsed the former. But Knapp is first and foremost a musician, as she demonstrated last night at Red Devil Lounge (I can only imagine what her horrified conservative fans think about their disgraced idol playing at a San Francisco bar named after Satan, which: bonus!).
Continue reading “Show Review: Jennifer Knapp at Red Devil Lounge, 4/25/10”
Rejoice and Shout, the latest music documentary from director Don McGlynn (The Howlin’ Wolf Story, Somewhere Over The Rainbow: Harold Arlen, and many more) is the most thoroughly researched and exhaustive film about African-American gospel music ever committed to film. In telling the story of gospel in America, it simultaneously mirrors the entire narrative of the African-American experience, beginning with slavery and ending with the election of the nation’s first black president. It is an ambitious undertaking, and for the most part, it is successful.
When I approached the Great American Music Hall box office last night to pick up my tickets for the Shelby Lynne concert, something very startling happened: the box office rep also handed me two backstage passes with the instructions to “come down and say hello” afterward. This has never happened to me before. And while I was giddily excited about the prospect of meeting Shelby, I was also a complete basket-case. My interactions with celebrities have ranged from moderately successful (when I have enough time to plan my words carefully) to sheer blood-curdling disaster (when the opportunity catches me by surprise). So how would tonight go?
Continue reading “Show Review: Shelby Lynne and Findlay Brown at Great American Music Hall, 4/23/10”
Shelby Lynne, one of the most defiantly self-sufficient female recording artists of her generation, has returned with yet another collection of sparse, intimate country/folk/blues/soul. Tears, Lies, and Alibis is written by Lynne, produced by Lynne, and — for the first time — released on Lynne’s own label, Everso Records. The woman has been dicked over by labels too many times by in her 20+ years as a recording artist, so she finally just invested in a label of one’s own. Get it, girl!
Continue reading “Album Review: Shelby Lynne — Tears, Lies, And Alibis”