// Category Archive for: Concert Reviews

Warped Tour in Kansas City: I’m Too Old For This Shit

By Danny R. Phillips

Prior to August 4th, it had been eleven years since I had last joined the tattooed masses as an attendee of The Vans’ Warped Tour. I was younger then in both body and mind. Standing on the boiling pavement this year watching the crowd pass me like a pierced, dyed, rainbow bedazzled tsunami, I saw two distinct classes, scratch that, generations, go by.

One was an older, punk-appreciating culture with fading tattoos and greying hair that grew up on Bad Religion, The Descendents, Fugazi, Bad Brains, The Zero Boys, and the Circle Jerks (I, obviously fall into group A) and the other was the day glo “skittle core kids” who worship The Devil Wears Prada and Attack! Attack! like they were the Dead Milkmen or The Ramones.

Dragging myself between five stages and countless bands, it dawned on me (and my trusty photographer) that at 15, the Vans’ Warped Tour was experiencing a midlife crisis of sorts and was, in fact, no longer the festival of years gone by. It is clear that I am a dinosaur stuck in a tar pit named Hot Topic. Like Danny Glover in the Lethal Weapon flicks, “I am too old for this shit!”
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Wave Of Adulation: Black Francis

By J Howell

The Riot Room, Kansas City MO
July 27, 2009

Sometimes the universe works in peculiar ways. Barely a week before Black Francis’ solo show at the Riot Room was announced, my girlfriend and I were having a discussion about the best shows we’d seen, during which I raved about the Pixies live and she related a story to me about sneaking into an amazing sold-out Frank Black gig in San Francisco years ago. We both lamented that the Pixies were playing shows in the UK at the time, but none Stateside. A few days later, I was in joyous disbelief that Black Francis was not only coming to town, but also playing in a tiny venue where we could be literally two feet away. Thanks, universe!
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The Eternal (Sonic) Youth

By J Howell

Uptown Theater, Kansas City MO
July 18, 2009

On some level, it must be hard being one of the most influential bands of the last thirty years. It goes without saying that at this point Sonic Youth is definitely that. Having (almost unbelievably) never seen them prior to their stop at the Uptown for the Eternal tour, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Sure, I’d heard stories about how raucous their sets were, about mind-numbing feedback, and about how in recent years their shows had become more beautiful than pummeling. Somehow, their performance turned out to be simultaneously everything and nothing I’d expected it to be.
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Keeping It Real: Gogol Bordello

By Emily C.

The Ritz, Ybor City (Tampa) FL
July 27, 2009

I trekked out to Ybor City on July 27th to see the Ukrainian “gypsy punk” band Gogol Bordello. Ybor City has a certain reputation among people who live in central Florida. It has always been a hotbed for young hipsters, and it has a fairly high crime rate (seriously, people have been shot at clubs there). As a comparatively elderly person to most of the crowd there, I was quite curious as to how the show would turn out. I hadn’t been down to Ybor City in years, and my interest was piqued.
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Blowfly for Motherfunkin’ President!

By Ann Clarke

Now That’s Class, Cleveland OH
March 14, 2009

Photo © 2009 Julie Finley

Wanna hear something sad? I’ve only been to one concert this year! I love going to concerts, too. I’m usually hired to shoot the live shots for a plethora of them, but every show that has taken a dump through Cleveland has been absolute shit. So shitty, in fact, that I haven’t been motivated to let the shutters go wild. I hate shitty concerts, and that’s all we’ve had in Cleveland since last summer. . . all but the one show I did attend.

That show? Was motherfunkin’ Blowfly! How awesome is that?
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Pink Martini For A Blue Girl

By Chelsea Spear

Opera House, Boston MA
June 13, 2009

“Eclectic” doesn’t begin to describe the music of Pink Martini. For the better part of a decade, this twelve-piece “little big band” has beguiled indie hipsters, polyglots, blue-haired grannies, and NPR junkies alike with their interpretations of standards from America and around the world. Likewise, the original songs that appear on their albums draw inspiration from French poetry, transcendental literature, songs from beloved 1970s movies, and bad dates.
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One Sweaty Show: Yeah Yeah Yeahs with Grand Ole Party

By J Howell

Beaumont Club, Kansas City MO
June 3, 2009

Ah, summer. Some things go hand in hand with the onset of summer: sunny days, lemonade, box-office blockbusters, and rock shows. OK, maybe summer isn’t really all that much more conducive to rock shows than any other particular season, but in any event, summer is conducive to being out and about and enjoying live music.

Grand Ole Party and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs were a bit like a typical summer movie—a thrilling, if not quite profound, way to spend a couple of hours on a gorgeous evening.
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I Heard Your Voice In Cambridge: Elvis Perkins In Dearland

By Chelsea Spear

Brattle Theatre, Cambridge, MA
April 22, 2009

The music of Elvis Perkins has a cathartic quality that borders on the spiritual. His vivid, fever-dream lyrics draw on Biblical themes and imagery (note the title of his first album, Ash Wednesday, and its closing song “Good Friday”), his melodies share the memorable simplicity of hymns, and he and his band perform them with great fervor and no small emotion. Thus, it seemed appropriate that they would grace the stage of the Brattle Theatre in Cambridge, Mass.
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Sparks Spectacular: Exotic Creatures of the Deep (2008)

By Noisy Boy

What can I say that you don’t already know? Nothing really. The album performance was excellent, and for a first attempt, just about flawless. Less multimedia than the previous two, but what was there was really stood out, especially Ron’s reprise of the Notre Dame organ gag in “Photoshop.” Same goes for the use of backing dancers and models as angels during the “Intro,” and as pregnant “men” in “(She Got Me) Pregnant.” All we needed was to quiff them up for “Lighten Up, Morrissey!”

It was obvious that Sparks were rightly revelling in the action and lapping up the feverish worship from all corners of the Empire. (Shepherd’s Bush and beyond!) In fact, they seemed sad to end their spectacular run, Ron symbolically burning all 21 album covers on-screen during the end of “Likeable.”

The second half was equally fabulous: every song that I’d seen them perform before was ten times better than previous performances. I should give special mention to “Looks Looks Looks,” which I thought was pretty poor at the Indiscreet gig, but absolutely on the money tonight: all lean, no wastage, no losing their way. Maybe they learned from last time. On top of that, apart from “The Decline And Fall Of Me,” I got to hear all the songs from my wish list that I missed from the gigs I didn’t see. “Dick Around” was fabulous. “Big Boy” was monstrously heavy, and “Goofing Off,” well, it should’ve been a single. Superb!

By the time it got round to “Get In The Swing,” I was looking at my watch, willing time to slow down, to get in ten, perhaps fifteen more songs. And then, after “Change,” I left, and waited for friends outside, only to realize I’d missed the final encore. Ah well, I’ve seen them do “This Town” thrice before, so I wasn’t too bothered, but it would’ve been nice to share the love that I could hear directed towards the band.

The only question now is, what am I going to do with myself every evening? Bravo to the Mael brothers and their fabulous band for doing the full thing, and allowing us to see all those songs (bringing my total up to 126 songs in this run). Let’s look forward to the same thing happening again with album 22. . . oh well, we can dream, eh?

Sparks Spectacular: Hello Young Lovers (2006)

By Claire Schofield

Hello Young Lovers was part of my introduction to the wonderful world of Sparks and remains my favorite of their albums. Hence it seemed the logical choice for the single gig out of the twenty-one of the Sparks Spectacular shows that I was actually able to attend. (Damn you, university exams, etc.) Did that choice prove to be a good one? Hell yes, it did.

From the opening chorus of “Dick Around,” as the band fade in and out from behind mesh screens, the crowd is held rapt. It’s probably been said before, but the amount of energy Russell still displays as he bounds around the stage is frankly unbelievable, bordering on suspicious. They sail through the album, every track perfectly reproduced with that extra live bite. “Metaphor” is a highlight, Russell asking “who’s up for a metaphor?” and the crowd thundering the response back.

The trend of video animation accompanying songs, started with Lil’ Beethoven, is continued here to great effect. Ron battles a video version of himself throughout “The Very Next Fight;” an army composed entirely of the brothers Mael marches along to “(Baby, Baby) Can I Invade Your Country;” and a chorus of cats joins Russell for “Here Kitty.” It looks incredible, alternating wildly between witty and hypnotic.

Since this is a review, I should probably give a vague nod towards objectivity. So here we go. The nature of Hello Young Lovers, like much of Sparks’ later work, means that the live band is supported with a lot of pre-recorded strings and multi-tracked singing. But it doesn’t matter one bit (unless you’re one of those people overly concerned with authenticity, and in that case probably not a big Sparks fan). This is an album that is built on insane, bombastic arrangements, and the live venue only accentuates this. Particularly “Rock, Rock, Rock,” one of the weaker tracks on the album, finally reaches its potential as Ron acts rock god while guitars clash around him.

In the end, mere words cannot capture my love for this endearingly crazy band. It’s a bizarre but lovely feeling to discover a thirty-year-old back catalogue and to know that the people responsible are firstly, still putting out truly brilliant pop music and secondly, can put on a live show as thrilling as this.

The applause is rapturous and seemingly unending, with Russell and Ron becoming more and more happily embarrassed as it continues. They return for an encore of “Profile,” the last song they’ll play at the Carling Academy, and it soars as everything else has done. I leave on a somewhat ecstatic high, having decided to get hold of a ticket for Exotic Creatures of the Deep as soon as possible. University be damned; it’s clearly worth it.

By Elizabeth McCarthy

“Night Twenty! Can You Believe It?”

“We’ve got this far and it’s incredible. . . and it’s sad, this is the last night in Islington,” says Russell Mael during the performance of Sparks’ 20th album, Hello Young Lovers. And indeed it was kind of sad. Many of us had started to look upon the Carling Academy in Islington as a home away from home, a place where for an hour or so you could be transported to Sparks heaven. But this night we knew the dream was rapidly coming to an end.

Myself and two fellow Sparkophiles had booked ourselves on a plane from our native Dublin to London to see four of the shows Sparks would perform in their 21-night Spectacular. . . A Woofer In Tweeter’s Clothing, Kimono My House, Propaganda, and Indiscreet. Then we saw the light and hurriedly booked ourselves up for another three nights. . . Lil’ Beethoven, Hello Young Lovers, and the premiere performance of Exotic Creatures of the Deep.

The first four nights we attended were utterly fantastic. I’d never seen Sparks perform live and was completely unprepared for the sheer energy and excitement of the shows. As innumerable people who have attended any of the shows have mentioned, these great albums gained even more in a live setting. . . like cleaning an old oil painting and discovering once again the vibrancy and brilliance that lay there all along. As a Sparks fan who enjoys the band’s more recent music at least as much as anything they have done over their astounding 30-year career, I awaited the last three concerts, as the saying goes, with heated anticipation.

I was not disappointed. These last few shows were very special. Not only because sadly, it was all coming to an end, but because they very much catalogue Sparks’ most recent musical reincarnation. . . vital, dramatic, poignant, sardonic, overblown, subtle, cynical, intelligent, angry, and funny. The Lil’ Beethoven show witnessed the audience’s most euphoric response to any one song, when “My Baby’s Taking Me Home” received a deafening ovation that seemed to last forever. Hello Young Lovers marked the second stage of Sparks’ “genre-defying opus.” Like Lil’ Beethoven, this show also marked a striking change in the band’s live show, with dramatic interactive projections and spatial demarcation of the stage.

On a stage that could just about enable you to swing the proverbial kitty, Sparks managed to reproduce Hello Young Lovers in all of its glory: the “intimate” setting only adding to the intensity and drama of the performance. The stage was essentially cut in half; the back was taken up with a large projection screen, either side of which were Sparks’ great musicians, garbed in black, behind a black mesh screen. In the front half of the stage there was a keyboard and the brothers Ron and Russell Mael. There was a poignancy to the stark, almost lonely, figures that the brothers cut out front on that stage. It brought home just who Sparks are and have been and how two people can work together over the decades and create something that touches people so profoundly.

The audience was, as they have been on all the nights I attended, an integral part of what made the Sparks Spectacular such a unique live experience. The concept of performing 21 albums on 21 nights is admittedly nuts and Sparks fans, being Sparks fans, embraced that nuttiness wholeheartedly. There was so much—dare I use the word? Yes, I dare—love projected from that audience it was truly amazing, and something I have never experienced before in all my gig-going days and nights. The Spectacular was, in part, a band statement—”Here’s who we are and how we got here”—and those attending celebrated that statement with unflagging joy and appreciation. But anyone expecting an easy ride through nostalgia-laden memory lanes had another thing coming. Hello Young Lovers proved that irrefutably.

In what has to be one of Sparks’ greatest opening songs of all time, the overblown, quasi-operatic, rocking “Dick Around” blasted out first. Ron bashed his “Ronald” keyboard, while Russell prowled the stage and sung with all the dramatic license the song affords. “Perfume” followed, Russell clicked his fingers like a suave lothario as he reeled out the litany of women’s names and their purchased scents. . . but even though he remembers them all, they are in the past. . . and as the audience unanimously agreed, “Screw the past!” During the dark “The Very Next Fight,” a song all about self-lacerating ego and insecurity, Ron leaves the keyboard to stage a battle with a virtual Ron on the projection screen, landing a series of perfectly-timed punches until he aims the fatal blow that sends his alter ego flying. . . until the next time.

Like the stage show for Lil’ Beethoven, here the projection screen acts as an alternate world where Ron interacts with various projected media in a hyper-formalized style not unlike the silent screen comedians Charles Chaplin or Harold Lloyd—all of which adds a delightful but nonetheless unsettling element to these songs and highlights the intensely dark humor which has always been an integral part of Sparks’ music. A joyous send-up of macho and nationalist presumptions, “(Baby, Baby) Can I Invade Your Country?” is next, accompanied by a projected army of marching Russells.

The next song, “Rock, Rock, Rock,” is, for me, one of the night’s highlights. Ron straps on a guitar, leers menacingly, and throws various pseudo-rock star poses while the music mercilessly cranks out. Counterpointing this, Russell vows (scout’s honor) to “Rock! Rock! Rock!” then pleads “don’t leave me” and cradles himself “like a mother.” The song is all at once a damning indictment of conceding to the tide of soulless “rock” formulas and a genuine rock song that discovers its hardness through this very indictment. Two giant speakers are projected on screen, their brand names are “Russell” and “Ron” and, as the guitar screeches its feedback, the speakers shake and start to self-destruct.

“Metaphor” follows and, once again, Russell adopts the pose of a smooth lothario. “Chicks dig metaphors” you know? “Use them wisely use them well and you will never know the hell of loneliness.” The audience joins in and sings along at the key moments:

Russell asks: Who’s up for a metaphor?
We answer: We’re up for a metaphor!
Russell asks: Are you chicks up for a metaphor?
We (including all the men in the audience) answer: Yes, we’re up for a metaphor!

The wonderful “Waterproof” is next, with its erudite musical variations and witty lyrics, sung by Russell with such vigor that one can only remain in awe at his vocal abilities, which show no signs of flagging during the course of the 21 nights and which have only improved with age (whatever age he’s admitting to that is, as Ron wryly noted during the Exotic Creatures of the Deep show). “Here Kitty” follows, accompanied by projections of figures with the heads of cats and recorded meow loops. . . once again convincing me that this is one of Sparks’ creepiest songs. . . don’t ask my why. . . the answer is clearly too embedded in my unconscious mind for me to want to know the answer.

When “There’s No Such Thing As Aliens” begins I know it’s all nearly over. Perhaps this adds to the melancholy feeling the song has. . . especially when performed live with the projected images of Ron and Russell holding their hands out in front of them and slowly evolving into alien forms; an image that starkly contradicts the song’s lyrics which demand that dreamers stop dreaming and realize such otherworldly creatures do not exist.

The final song, “As I Sit Down To Play The Organ At The Notre Dame Cathedral,” is a fitting end to proceedings. Ron places himself in front of the projection screen and plays a virtual church organ. . . Russell paces back and forth. . . spitting out lyrics which (like Hello Young Lovers‘ predecessor, Lil’ Beethoven) turn mundane terms and trite interactions into operatic expressions, which through constant repetition become increasingly menacing: “bye bye bye my baby now it’s time time time for me to go to work work work so you might want make your way from here. . . “

The song then shifts onto another level as the harsh guitar sound of “Dick Around” insinuates itself into the rhythm. Doleful organ sounds then appear, followed by a madly frenetic organ arrangement not unlike something Lon Chaney might have cranked out as The Phantom of the Opera. Ron mimes this on the projected organ as it shakes and swells. . . and yes, the sexual innuendo does not go unmarked by the lyrics, which lament the confusion of religious faith with the organ player’s desire to impress a woman in the congregation. But his efforts seem futile. . . he knows he will be upstaged by HIM. At this moment Russell points to the sky. . . HIM is God. . . The religious ceremony is in fact a courting ritual, with God as the ultimate romantic rival. But having made his sexual conquest, our organ player has FAITH, a deep abiding faith. And the audience of Carling Academy responds with appropriate joy, “Hallelujah!

The night ends, as all of the previous 20 shows have, with an encore song that in some way merits as an obscurity. Although judging by most of the audience, there’s no such thing as an obscure Sparks song. Many of the encore songs were connected with the album featured that night, but this time around there was no connection. The song was “Profile,” the b-side to “Get In The Swing” from the album Indiscreet. And it was a cracking finish to a fantastic night and a perfect way to bid bon voyage to Carling Academy Islington. The fact that the song careened us all back to Sparks circa 1975 was an apt reminder of the musical innovation as well as longevity of the band.

As always, the night ended with Russell giving a well-deserved mention and thanks to the musicians: Steve McDonald, Steven Nistor, Jim Wilson, Tammy Glover, Marcus Blake, “and the principal songwriter, my brother, Ron Mael.” He also thanked the audience, “Thank you, thank you so much. Thanks for making this month something we are always going to remember.” We’ll always remember it, too. Thank you Sparks.