Show Review: Ken Andrews, Charlotte Martin, firstwavehello @ Belly Up Tavern

Disclaimer: Fantastic Planet, released in 1996, is one of my top five records of all time. If you haven’t heard it, it comes with the dirtbag’s highest possible seal of approval (which, now that I think of it, should probably be a torn Miller High Life label).

The Never Say Never tour (Andrews, Martin, and SD locals firstwavehello) is a family affair: Andrews (Failure, ON, Year of the Rabbit, and with enough production/mixing credits to pay for the giant bus parked outside) and Martin are married; firstwavehello are Andrews’ prodigies, having been inspired by his work and later invited to perform as his backing band.

The connection between Ken Andrews and firstwavehello started when Andrews was asked to mix firstwavehello’s stellar 2006 album, The Lord and Its Penguin. They do so masterfully, but the real story is the effect that touring and some lineup changes have had on the band. More on that in a few.

I arrived at the Belly Up Tavern with good friend TO in tow. Tim Pyles was kind enough to be my “host,” as it were. It’s always good to talk with Tim; he’s extremely knowledgeable and passionate about music–two facts that make me wonder how he was able to last in radio–and has been a better proponent of San Diego bands than many of the bands themselves.  Arriving a few minutes late, I came through the door just as firstwavehello was finishing up “Lay Down,” which is perhaps my favorite of their older batch of songs. Accessible yet complex, the song makes great use of their ability to weave electronic instrumentation into 90s-esque guitar rockers, all of which serves as a great backdrop for Jacob Turnbloom’s expressive tenor.

The band has been through some lineup changes in the past few months, with the now defunct Hot (like) A Robot’s rhythm section, Chris Kolek (bass) and Adam Barker (drums), having stepped in. Though there was nothing wrong with their old lineup, the new additions seem to have brought a new forcefulness to firstwavehello’s sound. It didn’t hurt that they were playing the Belly Up, which has some of the best sound I’ve ever heard–concert hall, club, stadium–period. Barker’s drums sounded amazing, especially the toms, which rolled and growled with focus and presence.  The whole band sounded great, tour-tight, while playing some new, seemingly instrumental tracks.

Charlotte Martin was next. My girlfriend Sarah is a big fan on Martin, and as such I was broadly familiar with her work before. This being my first time seeing her live, I was struck by two things. First, she can flat out sing. Her vocal style is reminiscent of Tori Amos, and Fiona Apple, but with more dynamic range than the former and more full highs than the latter. Second, she has a captivating stage presence. Her beauty is considerable and striking, but her manner is much less affected than either Amos or Apple. It puzzles me why she’s never broken as big in the mainstream. Timing, I suppose?

Martin’s just released an album of covers, Reproductions, and she marked the occasion by performing Sinead O’Connor’s “I Am Stretched Out On Your Grave” and Tim Buckley’s “Song to the Siren.” Though her set’s reliance on piano, programming and tribal rhythms got a little repetitive toward the end, there’s no doubting that Martin captivated a broad swath of the audience.

After a short changeover, Andrews took the stage with firstwavehello in tow. He began his set with four songs from Secrets of the Lost Satellite, his 2007 solo record. Secrets basically continues along the same tracks laid by Year of the Rabbit, his last full band project, which is to say that it’s essentially radio-friendly alternative rock with a few nods to the darker, more spacey sounds of Failure. I’m not familiar with this record, but the songs seemed to make die hard fans happy.

They just made me want to hear some Failure songs, which, fortunately, were quickly forthcoming. After playing two songs from his electro project ON, Andrews guided the band through songs from Comfort, the band’s 1993 Steve Albini-produced released, and Magnified (though I didn’t hear Let It Drip, which I was looking forward to). Then, Andrews asked the crowd if they were ready to go to a place called Fantastic Planet.

We were. Or rather, I was. Actually, I was surrounded by a lot of fellow compatriots. Though it made a relatively small splash in commercial terms, Fantastic Planet is a monumental record in many circles, the kind of record that can still be heard resonating in many bands working today. Heck, when even schlocky emo bands like Paramore cover your songs (“Stuck on You”), you must be striking a real chord.

Andrews and firstwavehello played “Sergeant Politeness,” “Dirty Blue Balloons,” “Stuck on You,” and finally “The Nurse Who Loved Me.” For the final song, Andrews was joined by Martin, on piano, and her percussionist. Looking lovingly over at his wife, and playing in front of a rapt audience (and his mother, who was seated to the right of the stage), Andrews appeared awfully happy. I was, too.

Show Review: Jim James (My Morning Jacket) @ The Belly Up Tavern

Yours truly arrived early with Rosey from sddialedin.com in tow. To be fair, I was probably the one in tow: Rosey had been resourceful enough to procure tickets for the invitation-only event, though as it turned out 94/9′s promotions people were handing out tickets out front before the show; perhaps their “on the DL” marketing campaign was too smart by half. Outside, I had the good fortune to run into Ryan Renteria, the director of our “Bottom of this Town” video, who I hadn’t seen in a while. Inside, we managed to find great seats along side Seth Combs, Adam Gimbel and Citybeat‘s Troy Johnson.

Tonight’s show was part of a series called “The Craft,” a series of songwriter interviews/performances co-sponsored by Miller (thanks for the free hooch, guys) and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (thanks for sending the unholy spawn of Stuard Smalley and an English Lit professor as the interviewer). I’ll spare you the details of the interview, but suffice it to say that no normal fan, if given the chance and a limited time frame, would ask Jim James if he ever tried singing up a half-step in order to increase his range. Warren Zanes, who represented the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on this occasion, had a penchant for stripping the event of any shred of the spontaneity on which rock music has always been predicated. He did manage some interesting questions, but they were too few and far between to justify the ten minutes or so that were dedicated to them between tunes.

Ah, the tunes. My, my, Jim James is a man with a common name and an uncommon voice. Playing primarily through a Gibson acoustic, James gave the (relatively, this being San Diego) rapt crowd an incredible performance rich with nuance, depth, and heart. In short, his all-to-brief musical interludes justified the reverent tenor of the evening, though their emotional depth made the nuts-and-bolts questions to which he was treated seem all the more prosaic by comparison. We did get to sample some unnamed new songs, which were both much more straightforward than anything I’d heard from My Morning Jacket to his point and reminiscient of the Flaming Lips. It’s an open question as to whether not these are good things, and really not one for me to decide: in this case, I’m a tourist, not a dyed-in-the-wool fan.

The Belly Up was a great venue for this kind of gig. Lovely to look at, acoustically rich, it was the perfect environment. The clientele could stand to have a few lessons in manners and making less noise during an intimate acoustic set, but that’s on 94/9′s listeners, not the bar. Demerits to the smug, bald, penis-in-a-black-t-shirt dickweed who tried to heckle. Assuming you read well enough to understand this, I think you know who you are.

Sorry for the lack of pictures: hopefully Rosey’s attempts at clandestine photography were more successful than mine.

Show Preview: Jim James (My Morning Jacket) @ The Belly Up Tavern 7/9/07

Let’s hope this beardo is nicer to his fans than this one.

When I posted about the other bloggers in town not just being welcoming but being downright helpful in getting me started, this is the kind of stuff I mean: Rosey (sddialedin.com) offered to take me to the private Jim James (he of My Morning Jacket fame) show tonight at the Belly Up. This will represent a couple of firsts for me, so as you can imagine I’m pretty excited:

1. First trip to the Belly Up. That’s right: having lived here for seven years now, I have never actually been to the famed Solana Beach venue. How is that possible? Well, it has something to do with their penchant for charging fairly high ticket prices and booking the kind of bands that wouldn’t sound too out of place as the soundtrack to an average Solana Beach bar experience. That said, the sound is by universal acclaim fabulous, and it’s a local institution. I understand there may be onion rings involved, too?

2. First time seeing Jim James. My Morning Jacket, along with Tool and the Flaming Lips, is one of the only new bands (i.e. debuted in the past twenty years or so) that’s the deserving subject of fan mythology. Of those three, My Morning Jacket is by far the newest. Okonokos, a double live album recorded at the Fillmore in San Francisco, has a lot to do with the devleopment of said mythology. For San Diegans uninitiated into My Morning Jacket, think Transfer but with a little less pronounced classic rock vibe, or think Radiohead working through Skynyrd’s edgier stuff. Either way, they are a wonderful live band. The opportunity to see their frontman in a stripped-down, acoustic setting is a chance I’ll have few times in my life. From what I understand, the format of the show is somewhat like Storytellers, where James will take breaks between songs to discuss their meaning, or the writing process, or that time after a big show at the Forum where he and Gary had been drinking pretty heavily, and he hit a kid. He didn’t do that, but points if you got the reference before clicking here. Look for a recap later tonight/early tomorrow.