When Wavves met Woods met incompetent doorpeople

Annoyingly ubiquitous blog-rocker of the moment Wavves (confirmed alcoholic train wreck Nathan Williams, who nevertheless looked sweet and innocent and a little too small for the stage in his skate-rat ballcap), Tuesday at the Bowery Ballroom. I don't know if this San Diego boy is the real thing, but his formula and his hooks, especially on "So Bored" are, and needless to say, I love anyone who obviously has as big a stiffie for Brian Wilson as I do (e.g. Adam Baker of Annuals). Wilson's influence is what music needs, now and always.


Weird Brooklyn openers Woods (singer Jeremy Earl and bassist Kevin Morby pictured above) played louder and more chaotically than their records would suggest, a la Vetiver. They share the same creepy fondness for falsetto as Wavves, and are usually described as some hybrid of "folk," but in my opinion it's only under the most generous definition, in that some sort of acoustic instrument can usually be heard somewhere in the mix of melodic goofiness and experimentation. They make the kind of music that make you want to learn more about the band and where they came from, which is always a good thing. This also might have something to do with the presence of G. Lucas Crane (also of Nonhorse), who, at the Bowery show, knelt on the floor in front of the other members fiddling with the sound board, bobbing his wild blond weave, his head and mouth covered by an apparatus that looked like the most painful orthodontic headgear I've seen.

Let me also note that on Tuesday, not for the first time, the lovely doorperson at the Bowery failed to find my name on the list I received confirmation from the publicist that it should have been on. This problem seems to be one unique to the Bowery Presents empire (Mercury Lounge, Music Hall, Terminal 5, etc.), and unlike most of the truly indie (and I use the word in the conventional sense) venues where usually they can call the band or the manager or whoever to come straighten things out, there seems to be very little one can do about it, unless you have the phone number for your contact readily at hand, which I rarely do. Because of this, I suspect that it's the venue management communication that broke down, rather than the publicist, label, or my editors. This is something that really needs to change if they want anybody reviewing their shows in the future. Not I nor my employer have the funds to shell out $15 at the door every time I write a review a show. This also explains why a real review of this show will probably not appear in its usual spot. I encourage any other poor scribes who've had this experience to speak up.

However, this gave me the opportunity for my first live tweet of the show, which you can revisit by clicking the link on the sidebar. Man, I really stuck it to 'em.


So Bored - Wavves

Rain On - Woods

Beyond Race Winter Issue Hits the Streets

Another rich, creamy issue of Beyond Race Magazine will be served up on January 28, featuring news, interviews, and a couple of reviews written by me, many for bands that I have been/will be writing about here, including A.C Newman, Say Hi, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Titus Andronicus, Vetiver and Phosphorescent.

A Proud Taste for Scarlet and Vetiver

Vetiver: Everyday

When I interviewed Andy Cabic last summer at the Music Hall of Williamsburg before his show with Phosphorescent (sit tight, Matthew Houck, I'm getting to you), he was well-spoken and took himself very, very seriously. He offered me a bottle of Poland Spring from the green room and readily confessed to not having a clue about what was going on in the New York scene, which was more refreshing to me than I like to admit. He also claimed to bear no ill will toward his more well-known cronies, Devendra Barnhardt and Joanna Newsom, with whom he shares of the meaningless-and-hopfully-getting-to-be-irrelevent freak folk label. He lives in San Francisco, for god's sake. He's one of these guys who drives up and down Highway 1 pretending to be Roger McGuinn or one or more members of America, and periodically gets together to jam with people who are so old they can't help but be hip, like Michael "Snocko" Hurley. Eat it, New York suckers.

If only Cabic hadcome up with Tight Knit, out this month and featuring Everday, sooner. It's a shame that some cynics won't pay it any mind because they don't go for that hummy-strummy-hippy-dippy folk. (You know, you got some nerve, mister.) Tight Knit actually owes more to George Harrison than James Taylor.

The reason I was interviewing him was because I'd recently fallen in love, accidentally, with the band's obscure-covers album Thing of the Past, mostly because it contained no Beatles or Dylan and yet still managed to sound great, and Sanders Trippe, who can go, on the same album, from being one of those old-fashioned Bill-Haley style rock-around-the-clockers to kind of trippy distortion the kids go for. He's pretty much become my new Favorite Guitarist of the Hour (he's criminally undrecognized, naturally, but considering he's chosen to play with Cabic the Great Unknown, I suppose that's not too surprising.) In fact, probably the reason Tight Knit is the band's best album of originals so far is that Trippe actually gets a chance to stretch himself.

My full review of Tight Knit is scheduled to appear in the winter edition of Beyond Race Magazine. Unless they bump it for an interview with Tricky.