This list simply goes to show you that there is no such thing as a slow week in the bay area for shows…. We have two legendary punk bands playing in SF, plus a slew of other odds and ends that insure that nobody’s musical taste will go unaccounted for. So, do yourself a favor and go to a few shows this week. You’ve worked hard and deserve it!
Shirley MacLaine and Jack Black in Richard Linklater's BERNIE
Ever since leisurely ambling onto the cinematic scene with his generation-defining 1991 classic Slacker, Richard Linklater has remained one of the most influential and innovative figures in American independent film. A restless creative force frequently driven to push himself into personally uncharted territory, Linklater’s filmography is remarkably diverse: ensembles pieces beloved (Dazed and Confused) and overlooked (Fast Food Nation); dialogue-driven character studies romantic (Before Sunset/Before Sunrise) and claustrophobic (Tape); animated films adored (Waking Life) and alienating (A Scanner Darkly); and big-studio comedies iconic (The School of Rock) and ignored (The Bad News Bears). And now, for his 15th feature film, Linklater has returned to his native Texas to explore yet another genre: darkly comedic true crime.
Mario Rubalcaba, Keith Morris, and Steven McDonald of OFF!
When a band comes to a local record shop to do an in-store appearance, it’s a really unique type of event. Songs are generally stripped down to a more acoustic and delicate format, conversations are had between the band and the crowd with greater regularity and openness, and it’s a guaranteed opportunity for a meet-and-greet that often costs nothing more than the price of the group’s new record — which, in all likelihood, you’re there to buy so that they can sign it. However, not all artists can comfortably fit the first item on the agenda — a quiet show, an intimate arrangement of instruments — into their setup, and when their output’s main focus is blisteringly-fast, unflinchingly-loud, viciously-penned hardcore punk music, it’s not even in the same galaxy. Thus, the four-piece supergroup known as OFF! unleashed their set in Berkeley’s own Amoeba Records very much like they had the previous night at Slim’s in San Francisco: amps piled about, drummer Mario Rubalcaba sandwiched in between the gear on the miniscule stage, and every single object capable of emitting sound cranked into the stratosphere for 30 solid minutes.
Don’t you hate it when you’ve totally been looking forward to an event and then when it actually rolls around, something comes up that completely hinders your ability to enjoy it as much as you’d planned to? Sadly, that was my experience Friday night last. The thing I look forward to is, of course, seeing great live music. In this particular case, it was Jay Nash I’d been anticipating seeing again, at the Red Devil Lounge. Jay’s newest EP, Of the Woods, was just released last week, so of course I was also excited to hear the new material.
In 1979, a record that would forever shape the concept of what an “album” was, or could be, was released. Its chief creator, one Roger Waters (of the English rock juggernaut Pink Floyd), brainstormed a show so daunting, so massive, and so strange in scope, that in its heyday it was nigh impossible to tour with. Thus, the original 1980 tour of The Wall made roughly 30 appearances, over only four cities, for in accordance with the themes of isolation and seclusion that dominated this record, its corresponding live rendition involved the construction of a massive wall that separated the band from the audience. Three decades after the original Wall tour, live concert production capabilities have increased dramatically, and arena- and stadium-based shows have taken on an even grander scale than ever before seen. Thus, in 2012, Waters’ original dream finally has come to fruition. The Wall Live is absolutely that: the iconic album of 1979 finally brought to life, in the way and at the scale that it had originally been intended to be witnessed.
Nearly 30 years ago, in the state of Pennsylvania, a troupe of four young upstarts formed a band that was anything but what had been perceived to be the general standard for quality punk rock. With their thick Philadelphian accents, songs about defecating lizards and maintaining a healthy diet, and the general appearance of a collection of angry rednecks that had gotten themselves slightly cleaned up, the quartet added the finishing touch in the form of a fictional backstory for their band, which was called The Dead Milkmen. Nine albums, three decades, many unexpectedly big hits, and several generations’ worth of fans later, the balls-out-fun-and-plenty-of-cleverly-funny-bullshit approach that the Dead Milkmen burst into the Philadelphia punk scene with has carved out a unique but deeply passionate cult following for the four — now with new bassist Dan Stevens, after the passing of Dave “Blood” Schulthise in 2004. On Thursday night, for the first time in nearly 22 years, the Dead Milkmen returned to San Francisco, took over the small SoMA establishment known as Slim’s, and proceeded to let loose with a stunning performance, with a ferocious energy equivalent to a truckload of dynamite erupting off the edge of a canyon wall.
Kristin Chenoweth came to UC Berkeley’s Zellerbach Hall last night for the second date of a 19-city North American tour promoting her newest album, Some Lessons Learned, as well as her campy ABC series GCB. Or at least, that was the plan. Then, late yesterday afternoon, ABC announced their decision to cancel GCB, which is still in its first (and apparently only) season. An uneasy sense of anxiety hung over the sold-out audience me, wondering if and how Chenoweth would address the setback. How devastating of a blow would this be to her? Would she be able to rally by repeatedly shrieking “The show must go on!” and singing scales until shattering a tray of stemware? Or would she barricade herself in her dressing room, listening to “There’s No Business Like Show Business” and sobbing hysterically?
If you were fortunate enough to catch the last two waves of touring put upon by Puscifer, the brainchild of one Maynard James Keenan of Tool fame, you might have caught a glimpse of a sultry and furious siren known as Carina Round, who opened for the art-collective-cum-musical-explosion on every single one of their dates. In addition to kicking off the show and stunning audiences who were unprepared for an opening act that held her own ground and shook the foundations of the theaters she co-occupied, the Wolverhampton, UK-born Carina also lent her rich and sensuous voice to the backup vocal duties of the main act — sometimes taking center stage to lead the musicians around her, while frontman Keenan practiced his customary hiding in the shadows. What you might have missed, however, was the release of Tigermending, her self-produced third record. Nearly half a decade in the making, with guest appearances from musicians as varied as Brian Eno, Billy Corgan, and Dave Stewart, the album is a dense and thunderous exploration of worlds unknown and lingering, decadent thoughts and messages. To express all of the fury and power of this release in a live setting is a daunting task, but tonight at Café du Nord, Carina proved that she was more than up for it.