The Watson Twins opened the show. They’ve been featured on several tracks with Jenny Lewis and appeared last night in matching white cowboy boots to go with their classic country sound. The song “Cry Baby” stands out as a slow ballad that could have been pulled right out of a country radio station in the late 1960s (George Jones and Tammy Wynette were name-dropped in the song’s introduction). As far as opening acts go, they did their job of priming the audience for what was to come.

The crowd was indistinguishable from one that would pay to see Weezer (today, not in 1997). Being the age of 30 would unquestionably put a person on the younger part of the distribution. Conversations during the intermission were more likely to be about children than about the latest features on Snap. “She’s about to turn six … has a strong personality,” I distinctly remember hearing.

Nevertheless, they were there for a good time, as evidenced by the long lines for alcohol and the strong smell of weed smoke that permeated the break. There were good vibes all around. After all, Jenny Lewis was up next.

From the back of a darkened stage, Jenny strolled to the piano in a form-fitting, sequined dress with fur around the wrists and a hairdo that says “Prom 1967.” Tommy Tutone’s “Jenny, Jenny” accompanied her to the stage. The crowd went nuts. Before she ever sang a note, the winner for the coolest-person-in-the-venue contest had been decided.

Jenny’s attitude is her greatest asset. Her subtle movements and vocal inflections are so expressive that a wider vocal range wouldn’t really add much to the mix. Her voice can be husky or powerful, and she knows how to hold a pause just long enough for the right effect.

Behind a piano or up front on a platform, Jenny made use of the entire stage. With a suggestive swing of her hips, she had the entire venue up and swaying on more than one occasion. The band complements her, but Miss Lewis commands all attention.

Much of her lyrics reflect hard-earned wisdom that’s only available to those who’ve lived through it. The chorus of “Little White Dove,” from her new album On the Line, highlights a wise self-assurance reminiscent of Bonnie Raitt. I particularly like the knowing nod to hypocrisy in “Rise Up with Fists!”:

Are you really that pure, sir?
Thought I saw you in Vegas
It was not pretty, but she was

The end of the show began with the ring of a neon-lit landline phone rang near the front of the stage. Jenny answered, allowing the crowd to listen in on both sides of the conversation. “Hey, do you guys want to come up and sing a couple songs with me?” On the other end were our old friends the Watson Twins. They obliged. It was a clever and fun way to bring the opening act back onstage and roll through their collaborative work like the aforementioned “Rise Up with Fists!”

The first time I saw Jenny Lewis was the main stage at 80/35 a couple of years back. I became a fan that night, but I now realize I hadn’t seen her at her best. Her style and talent is tailor-made for the intimate feel of a small theater, a fact that became all too clear Tuesday night at the Englert.

The post Mission Creek: Jenny Lewis @ Englert Theater 4/2/2019 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

The most enthralling part of this experience was his medium. The entire soundtrack was just a guy playing drums really really well. My father had been a part of a heavy metal cover band when I was a child, so I have a pretty good amount of nostalgia attached to a drumkit.

When I walked into the Englert, I noticed that there were a lot of people waiting in line to buy tickets, as though they’d decided to attend last minute. A lot of people were standing around and talking as well, most of them middle-aged or older. The theater itself was comfortably vacant in the sense that it wasn’t crowded, but there were enough people there that it was still busy.

When the event started, Sanchez came onto the stage and was greeted with applause. He began by telling us he wanted to explain his history as a drummer and how he came up with the Birdman soundtrack.

He tells the audience about growing up in Mexico City and that he’d been drumming since he was five years old. He pursued drumming as he moved to the United States and that he became a US citizen two months ago. “The timing on that couldn’t have been better,” he proclaims with the loudest laughter that would take place that night.

He discusses that the director, producer, and writer of Birdman, Alejandro González Iñárritu, was particular about how he wanted the soundtrack to sound.

They would sit in a studio and work through each and every scene to make sure that it was how Iñárritu liked it but was also improvised to Sanchez’s liking. He then told us that he improvised all the time during these live performances and that we would be hearing things no one else had. A performance that was completely unique.

As the movie begins, it’s easy to tell how tied the drums are to the film. The first seconds of the movie reveal a quote, the letters revealed a bit at a time. With every beat Sanchez made, a new set of letters were revealed. There was such a clear amount of precision involved with the soundtrack, that it was easy to forget that it was being performed in front of us.

As the scenes of the movie continued, the percussion created the largest intensity in a way that none of the actors could’ve. Sanchez knew the movie forward and backward and was able to use his drums to elaborate on the film. They drew out movement in the scene, literally as the characters made gestures and slammed doors, and figuratively with their emotion.

The beginning of the credits was very similar to the intro when it came to the letters appearing with the beat of the drums. I thought about how it would be such an honor to know how my name sounded to Antonio Sanchez.

As the credits kept coming, Sanchez kept playing and created the most influential and intense part of the performance. At this point, I think he was improvising since there was nothing going on in terms of plot anymore. He was moving so fast and making such detailed rhythms that would change every two seconds. He was playing like nobody could tell him what to do, like his kit shared some kind of extension cord that connected to his mind. He just knew what he was doing, but gave off the impression that he was just experimenting with sound at the same time.

The only word that I can come up with to describe the performance is “phenomenal.” The movie itself was captivating, naturally, since it won Best Picture at the Oscars in 2015 along with three other awards. I left not understanding it, and I found it enthralling but obscure and fascinating but also really bizarre. The cinematography was beautiful, and probably the most appealing part of viewing it.

However, Sachez put his entire soul into playing his set and made a specific effort to put on a spectacular show. I can tell that he could have sat there after the credits had rolled past and drummed for us forever. Going to the Englert last night wasn’t about watching a movie, it was about listening to the music that was designed with it. I wish it could’ve gone longer.

Listen to the Birdman soundtrack here or on Spotify below.

The post Show Review: BiRDMAN LiVE with Antonio Sanchez @ The Englert Theatre appeared first on KRUI Radio.

About three songs in, Frampton takes lead vocals, and the duo’s harmonizing strengths become evident in this folksy swaying tune. Field Division proclaims their “dreaminess” in their music, arching to convey a fluid journey through both their lyrics and sound. I noticed, however, the way the dreaminess in their recorded instrumentals somewhat slips away in a live atmosphere. But where the dreaminess is lost in live acoustic guitar’s melody, it comes out in the bluesy electric guitar element they’ve added onstage with a third player.

They then promoted their EP, released in October of 2014, with a song I recognize called “Modest Mountains.” The duo describes the tour they went on to embrace the mindset of this song, which they recently made a music video for. They then closed their set with a catchier harmonizing tune, proving once again that they excel in vocal captivation. The opener’s set (and Taylor’s black boho-esque attire) leaves me both pleased and aesthetically envious.

The next opener takes me by surprise, and not exactly the pleasant kind. Next to take the stage is a group from Chicago, who call themselves Good Willsmith. They fill the room with an electronic intro, resembling distorted white noise, in an energetic build-up—or so I thought. This band is capable of one thing and one thing only: a mountainous tumbleweed of noise, in which I am waiting for what feels like an inevitable and satisfactory drop, but it’s that kind of relief I never got.

I would perhaps describe it as a spaceship malfunction. Overheard at a table near where I sit is a man recapping his own interpretation of the music to his neighbor: “…a bunch of sounds kind of… fucking stringed together”. Maybe not so eloquent, but accurate nonetheless, man in the striped crewneck tee. According to their Facebook page, the band classify themselves as “drone/noise/psychedelic/improv”. I can’t say I disagree, but I’m also not sure it’s a genre I would submit myself to again in any scenario. Simply and bluntly put: the Good Willsmith live experience was disengaging monotony.

However, I end this set on a less negative note with a nod to the guitarist. Decked out in a wide brim cap and a corncob printed on his t-shirt, he really did let that prolonged spaceship malfunction they call music course through his stage presence. I respect his ability to connect with your internal musical being, even if I got nothing out of it myself.

It wasn’t until the headlining act that I felt completely engaged in the show. Son Lux brought the energy that was missing, something reciprocated in full by their audience. This has almost everything to do with lead Ryan Lott’s powerfully engaging vocal capacity. Notably a few songs in, his hollowed projecting vocals convey the utmost emotion and vulnerability.

Good Willsmith was obvious amateur foreplay to the way these guys can manipulate a beat. Where their opener lacked in vocals, Son Lux picked up the slack and showed that they are capable of intertwining synthesizing instrumentals in a diverse fashion, while also complimenting them with a strong leading voice. Take-away lyric of the night: “You drink your wine from my heart.”

Son Lux thanked the audience for “a warm welcome” for the group’s first time in Iowa City. The audience is notably affected by the way this trio performs onstage. Climactic builds and drops of songs are especially effective in this live environment, earning sincerely ecstatic applause from their crowd. Feeding into the crowd’s evident enthusiasm is Lott’s theatrically involved singing, an obvious lead in stage presence. This being said, the drummer’s exuberant play and carefully executed drum energy is not be ignored.

As the last song draws to a close, and Lott detaches his mic from the stand above his keyboard to do some back and forth with the rowdy audience members, I come to the conclusion that a live show is most definitely the place to familiarize yourself with Son Lux. The interaction between deeply invested vocals and inevitably toe-tapping instrumentals is, for lack of a more specific or concrete explanation, an experience. And one I would eagerly repeat.

The post Mission Creek: Son Lux @ Gabe’s 4/6/16 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

There were good vibes all around, as I was side-stepping white clouds to get better pictures. I was lucky enough to catch the end of  Bambu’s set.

MaLLy introduced a fair man, with an even fairer beard. It was strange, when he spoke I forgot about the world around me. I understood then why the people were howling,

“ALI! ALI! ALI!.”

With a raised fist to the government,  he swung right into his set. He had the crowd sliding first to the right, then to the left. It felt like attending a church service down South, when I heard Brother and  the audience join in damning injustices that have weighed them all down.

Mourning in America and Dreaming in Color, Ali’s 5th album, was released in 2012, but he played off of everything he has released.

Domestic abuse, race barriers, and political unrest are just a few of the issues that he stresses in his movement. Brother Ali may very well be a legally blind, Caucasian albino who grew up in Minnesota, but he practices Islam and curses the demons that ensnare our generation. By demons, I mean issues that seem hopeless like: welfare, ignorance, and a distorted sense of self-image.

The crowd was shouting amen when he threw up his hands in a justified rage. I was amazed by his unique sound, a funky collision of soul and contemporary hip-hop. He isn’t afraid to drop the f-bomb and still find a way to share his wisdom.

During my time sitting at a booth behind Gabe’s, Brother Ali confessed this tour was for the people and getting back into venues that feel like home.  Iowa City was first on the fall lineup which stretches into mid-November.

If you like what you hear, check him out on FB or Twitter.

Check out some of my favorites below!

The post Show Review: Brother Ali @ Gabe’s 9/13/14 appeared first on KRUI Radio.