Lloyd’s hair is shorter than this now. Either way, meeeooowwww.
The first time I heard Dennis Lloyd’s single, “Nevermind,” I was intrigued. I started hearing the song a lot on satellite radio, and on the music channel I turn my TV to when I’m in the kitchen. A month or so ago, Lloyd’s name came up on my radar: he was coming through the Bay on tour. I requested to cover the show and quickly forgot about it. I didn’t find out that I had a ticket until the day before the show. The next day, I realized I only knew that one song, so I spent several hours listening to Spotify’s This is Dennis Lloyd playlist. Unfortunately, I wasn’t into it. I’m a girl of my word, though, so I headed to Great American Music Hall on Thursday in hopes that Lloyd live would change my mind.
You know how sometimes all it takes is the first listen to a great new song by an artist you’ve never heard before, and you’re in? That’s how it was for me the first time I heard Dermot Kennedy’s “Power Over Me.” Not long ago, I was in my kitchen cooking dinner, with a music station playing on my TV. Before the lyrics of the song could even register in my brain, Kennedy’s haunting voice had drawn me in. I remember literally stopping what I was doing and turning around to gape at the screen so I could make a note of the artist. And then the lyrics hit me: “you’ve got that power over me… my, my… everything I hold dear resides in those eyes… you’ve got that power over me…” I’ve been obsessed with the song ever since. As soon as I could, I took a deep dive through Kennedy’s music, and accordingly made a note to catch him live as soon as possible. Last night, my chance came as Kennedy graced the stage at Fox Theatre in Oakland for the very first time. To say it was mildly earth-shattering is: an oxymoron, a little hyperbole, and also still somehow true.
The year is 1995. I’m a 15 year-old that was just starting to figure out my musical tastes. I learned that MTV had a two hour-long program at midnight early Monday mornings, that aired “underground” music videos. (Underground is in quotes because, as a grown up, I’m aware that you couldn’t be that far underground to be shown on corporate television). Due to school getting in the way, I would set the VCR to record these videos to watch later. The music from these programs became the primary thing that encoded my tastes for the rest of my life. Two videos that I would rewind and re-watch incessantly, were Liz Phair’s “Never Said” and “Supernova.” 23 years later, I am finally fulfilling that dream of getting to experience this musician, who’s had such an intense effect on my development, perform a full-length concert. Continue reading “Show Review: Liz Phair, Speedy Ortiz at The Fillmore, 9/20/18”
Cross this off my bucket list: I’ve loved Peter Cetera for as long as I can remember.
Like many children of the 80s, I still harbor a strong sentimental attachment to some of the tunes that might make others groan. Before I was old enough to start developing musical tastes of my own, my mom raised me on a steady diet of light rock, less talk. (No, you just sang the KOIT jingle in your head!) I think my personal trifecta from those days is (in no particular order): Billy Joel, Lionel Richie (with The Commodores and solo), and Peter Cetera (with Chicago but especially solo). At least for me, there is something about the music I loved as a kid that can have the power to invoke a true sense of joy that can be hard to find anywhere else.
Last month, my mom won a pair of tickets to see REO Speedwagon and Chicago, and she asked me to go with her. I thought it would be a blast, but I admit I was disappointed at the prospect of seeing Chicago sans Cetera. Between sets, I decided I should look to see if he was touring on his own. Much to my delight, not only was he currently touring, but I found tickets that were a mere two weeks away, in San Jose. Before I could buy them, though, Chicago took the stage, and I put my phone away to enjoy what turned out to be a truly fantastic performance.
The next day, I returned to my ticketing site of choice to buy tickets, and discovered I’d overlooked a second date the night before: this one was a month away, rather than two weeks, and I’d have to schlep out to the Sacramento area in the dead of the summer, but instead of just being Cetera solo, it also boasted Richard Marx on the bill. Though this is an artist my mother enjoys as much as I do, he wasn’t an heirloom: Richard Marx is an artist I learned to love all on my own, from the late 80s on. I bought tickets in a matter of moments and then started counting down the days until I could get myself out to Thunder Valley Casino on Friday the 13th (of July). Continue reading “Show Review: Peter Cetera with Richard Marx at Thunder Valley Casino Amphitheatre, 7/13/18”
Ernie Halter (L) and Tony Lucca (R) at Neck of the Woods
Ernie Halter and Tony Lucca are “brothers from other mothers” who have “toured a shit-ton together over the years.” While Lucca is originally from Pontiac, Michigan, he and Halter (a native of SoCal) both lived in the LA area for years. Now, however, they have both moved to Nashville, where they’re close enough to babysit each other’s kids when the need arises. This, while great for their families, is not so great for me, as it means I get to see much less of them than when they were a mere 6-hour drive and toured California much more frequently. They recently graced the upstairs stage at Neck of the Woods on Thursday, 5/17, and because it had already been over a year since the last time I’d been able to catch Lucca in my actual neck of the woods, I got there with my proverbial bells on. Continue reading “Show Review: Tony Lucca and Ernie Halter at Neck of the Woods, 5/17/18”
Several months ago, I first read that Bruce Springsteen was setting out to do a one-man show on Broadway. My immediate thought was, “I would really like to go to that, but I doubt I’m going to make it to New York anytime soon.” There was a period where you could sign up for the “Ticketmaster Verified Fans” program, which, somehow, determined who was an actual fan and who was a reseller (not entirely sure how this works, and not really sure it does, but that’s for another article). I almost signed up for that, but didn’t. I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Continue reading “Show Review: Springsteen on Broadway at Walter Kerr Theater, 4/12/18”
Gather round, children, it’s story time. (Well, okay, it’s really just more of a long-winded introduction, but bear with me here…) My brother is, by far, one of my favorite people on the planet. He’s a few years older than me, so he was a senior in high school when I was a freshman, and I was fortunate that he was nice to me in front of his peers. This meant that all the older, cooler kids accepted me rather than finding me annoying. This was also the time in our lives when we first started to agree on (and bond over) music. In particular, we loved Aerosmith (because who wasn’t obsessed with Get a Grip in the early/mid 90s?) and Stone Temple Pilots. So fast forward nearly 25 years, and you’d better believe we were both dying to catch the band at San Francisco’s legendary Fillmore. Continue reading “Show Review: Stone Temple Pilots with The Dirty Hooks at the Fillmore, 3/12/18”
This show had all of the essentials needed for a great metal show. Andrew WK, the patron saint of partying, leading his six piece backup band of very loud and technically adept musicians. Two members of his backup band were women, which made the party even better, as did the pizza guitar he played mid-set. AWK is a live wire with big, metal voice, but at the show, he seemed a little dampened. It happens – a lot of us have had the crud, and if he did I hope he feels better. This didn’t lower show’s wattage though, or cause anyone to party any less hard. A great metal show also has a fist pumping crowd in the back, and mosh pit up by the stage. Here, at an AWK show, all of these are accounted for. AWK writes great hooks that keep you moving and joyful, and his touring band brings them to a higher level of musicianship than the original recorded version. Continue reading “Show Review: Andrew W.K. at The Independent, 9.27.17”
There’s never been any debate over the fact that English new-prog, Pink-Floyd-meets-metal band Porcupine Tree is Steven Wilson, in both part and in whole. While comprised of a core set of musicians that have contributed to the writing, recording, and touring of the many records forged over its career, Porcupine Tree started as a project for Wilson alone to craft music; in fact, at its very beginning, it was a made-up legendary rock band with its own fake history and discography that Wilson had penned with a colleague back in the late 1980s. Twenty years later, Wilson has put his primary project on a shelf (Porcupine Tree has been on hiatus since 2010) and shifted the attention to his own “solo work”. Lest the reader shy away from the often-wary prospect of a frontman deciding to carve out his own path, Wilson’s output has been nothing short of spectacular, now spanning the length of four albums which demonstrate a remarkable leap in creativity, songwriting, and production with each successive release. Hot off the heels of his recently-released Hand. Cannot. Erase., Wilson returned to the Bay Area on Sunday night for a live performance with his new touring band, and the result was a gorgeous, stunning display of musicianship and sonic texture that shook the walls of the Warfield for over two hours.
In 2010, Faith No More returned to their hometown of San Francisco to play three ferocious, wildly-anticipatedconcerts that marked their first appearance in the Bay Area since their disbandment in the late 90s. The general reaction, from the most hardcore fans to the relatively casual listeners, was extremely positive, albeit with the lingering curiosity of “…but what’s next?” After a handful of tours, a smattering of festival appearances, and two years of almost total silence — during which the prolific band members worked on some of their other projects, as well — something more official surfaced in the latter half of 2014, in the form of two new songs: the slow-stalking “Motherfucker” and the chugging, anthemic “Superhero”, both of which showed up in their live sets that year. Now, with their seventh album Sol Invictus soon to arrive in record stores, and a mountain of tour dates taking up their schedule this year (paired with everyone from ANTEMASQUE to Refused), it seemed like the perfect time for Faith No More to return to the Warfield — this time with two shows, instead of three — and their transformation in the last five years is not only palpable, but an utter delight to witness.
