Austin City Limits Festival Day Three: Tegan and Sara find redemption; Foo Fighters find an ending

Photo: Brian Birzer

There are, apparently, two kinds of closure when it comes to Austin City Limits Festival: There’s the personal kind, as in an emotional closure; and then there is the literal kind, as in you and your band are the closers of this festival. Sign here please.

Tegan and Sara sought the first kind, after a cowboy-shirted Tegan—who’d changed from her earlier black-on-black uniform when guesting with Against Me!—shared with the Austin crowd that the last time they’d been in town was years before, for SXSW. It was a gig that had, in Tegan’s words “really sucked.” Redemption they sought, then, and redemption they found, as a solid portion of ACL’s masses chose to watch them over the rather adored Band of Horses across the way. Spending less than their usual stage time bantering, the sisters instead focused on sharing material from last year’s The Con, as well as their two previous releases. The long time T&S fan might have even recognized an old school song, 1999’s “Superstar,” inserted in The Con’s “Hop a Plane.” The pair also covered Rihanna’s “Umbrella,” and played their own, original version of “Walking with a Ghost,” which, ironically, Jack White could probably hear from the Raconteurs’ proximity the next stage over. One crucial piece of banter did, finally, slip through; when Tegan was struggling with the beginning of “Where Does the Good Go?” Sara spoke about the first few weeks of the twins’ lives, spent in hospital because they “didn’t have a sucking reflex." Deadpan, she added: "Take from that what you will.” Not sucking then, not sucking now. Closure complete!

When it’s your job to finish a festival, you may choose the quick and dirty route (as Beck’s day two closer did the night before) or you may choose to befriend the audience by suggesting that you won’t leave until the cops chase you away. Dave Grohl chose the latter, and the Foo frontman may have meant it—he seemed genuinely surprised and pleased by the caliber of festival he was attending, and said as much. And so, he did the closest thing to an arrest-worthy set that well-established acts can do, and that’s play the shit out of as many songs as possible in the time allotted. Newer singles like “Long Road to Ruin” and “Let it Die” figured prominently, but the Foo Fighter hit machine churned out many more still. Pleasant surprises for those on the audience end included a rich backup band (complete with violin, cello, accordion and even triangle), a Foo-ed up cover of The Who’s “Young Man Blues,” and an epic drum solo from Taylor Hawkins that served as an interlude to “Stacked Actors.” Still, at the scheduled ten o’clock mark, the Foo Fighters left, as they were contractually obliged to do. But then, they came back and played an encore, because they can. And nary a cop was in sight. Case—and show—closed. -- KAITLIN FONTANA

Austin City Limits Festival Day Three: Gillian Welch is a hillbilly, Against Me! are more than just punk, Silversun Pickups are…in a jar?

Photo: Brian Birzer

Day Three in Austin was about heat: who had it, who didn’t and who was suffering as a result of it. Day Three was also a banquet of many flavors, and the discerning concertgoer (or the crazy one, depending on your definition of such words) could trek from earnest country to punk rock to indie in a matter of scorching strides, were said goer so inclined. To wit:

Gillian Welch came calling from just ‘round the bend in Nashville, stopping by with long time band mate David Rawlings to give an unlisted set that Rawlings promised “would be become boring pretty quick,” as soon as they started forgetting songs they wanted to play. This, luckily, did not come to pass, as Welch’s bluegrass/country/beautiful hybrid provided for a pleasing entrypoint for many of Austin’s arriving early afternoon crowd. Welch was charming and affable through her set, relaying the benefits of being a banjo-touting female (“Everyone loves a chick with a banjo. It may be just a fetish, but there you have it,”), and cursing the heat for making Rawling’s guitar “spazz.” She made a clear-as-a-bell go at “My First Lover” and the adopted child’s lament “No One Knows My Name” before noting that her set was being overshadowed by the nearby BMI stage. “How do we sound with a rhythm section?” she asked, and receiving a huge cheer of encouragement, explained that she and Rawlings were there to “uphold the hillbilly quotient.” Smiling at the notion, Gillian Welch took up her banjo and carried on.

Downfield, Against Me!’s set provided the answers to two potential festival questions: Where are all the teenagers at this festival? And who has all of the pot? Ahem: They’re here! And they do! But perhaps another question should be, How does Against Me! do it? By most accounts they appear to be a face value punk band from Florida, the exact act the Kids with Pot would love. And they are that, but Jesus—they’re much more. They’re a stellar live act, with a massive output of energy that’s not to be sneezed at, even while you’re inhaling Zilker Park dust. Most material stemmed from 2007’s New Wave (“Thrash Unreal,” the trippy “The Ocean”) but with that record only clocking in at 30 minutes, they pulled from older material as well. An appearance by Tegan Quin of Tegan and Sara (“Borne on the FM Waves of the Heart”) was a welcome diversion, but the boys in black hardly needed help winning Austinites over. To most, whether Kids with Pot or not, it felt like Against Me! was transmitting at a higher, cooler frequency than most of ACL's other acts.

On the subject of frequency, Silversun Pickups may have a thing or two to say. Like, "How frequently will we play a set that sounds like we’re inside a glass jar?" To this the crowd would like to respond, “Hopefully only the once.” The Pickups show was plagued by a strange technical issue that kept the sound low and the mix muddy; as a consequence many, grumbling, headed for some shade in frustration. It’s too bad, because it looked like Brian Aubert was enjoying himself immensely, and that his band was most likely playing a fantastic set behind the glitch. As Aubert later explained (his vocals were the one thing that didn’t sound like they were coming from inside a fishbowl), this appearance was the last before the band releases new album Swoon, in October. Even through the problems, “Rusted Wheel,” and “Lazy Eye” conjured cheers and raised arms from the crowd; here’s hoping that when Silversun Pickups return with new material, they’ll be returning with a new sound crew, too. -- KAITLIN FONTANA

Austin City Limits Festival, Day Two: Spiritualized takes a side; Conor Oberst takes pride; Beck takes off

Photo: Mary Sledd



Day Two of Austin City Limits Fest was a study in strange behaviors. A thicker crowd meant clouds of dust began to swirl, and with that came the more ornery edge of the audience. And then there were those curious performers.

To wit: A shoving match, apparently over accidental drink spillage, occurred and quickly dispersed, just as Spiritualized found their way onto the Dell stage. Singer Jason Pierce followed the rest of his band—including two white-clad backup singers—and lodged himself firmly behind a microphone at stage right. It was from this position that they recounted nearly ten years of Spiritualized backstory: “Shine a Light,” “I Think I’m in Love” and “Ladies and Gentlemen We are Floating in Space,” among others. All the while Pierce shied behind sunglasses, seemingly disaffected by the space rock shimmy he was inspiring in some. Sometimes though, as with “Soul on Fire,” from this years Songs in A&E, Pierce blossomed, his stance widening and his body threatening to lurch from side stage to proper front man position, up front. Sadly, that vacuum created by his absence front and centre was noticeable. Word on the street has touted recent shows as the band’s creative best, but under the Texas sun, Pierce was a little too subdued and sidelined to be truly striking.

Photo: Brian Birzer

A quick hop across the ever-cloudier field was a chance to see Conor Oberst, sans Bright eyes and plus the Mystic Valley Band. Suited, in a shiny tie and bearing a white flower in his lapel, Oberst put on a rather handsome show even as he stood apart from his considerably more casual bandmates. After greeting us “Dusty Texans,” he slipped into an alt-country mode, peddling shiny wares from August’s Conor Oberst, most notably “Danny Callahan,” “Milk Thistle” and “Eagle on a Pole.” Oberst looked comfortable heading the MVB, and something akin to pride even tickled the corners of his eyes at times. Perhaps to illustrate this, he danced, a slightly more charming version of the white man’s underbite, and chided the crowd for not cheering loud enough when he introduced his Mystic Valley band mates. He meant it, too—you could see it in those suddenly darkened eyes. Still, he had to admit, this was a “Real nice festival,” and one he’d probably come back to. And hey, if he was looking to eat later, an eager fan’s front row sign proclaimed she’d happily buy him dinner.

It’ll be interesting to see how word of Beck’s closing slot on day two carries; Mr. Hansen came to the stage ten minutes late—a forgivable offense, but not when coupled with leaving 20 minutes early. Simple math says that shortens a promised 90 minute show to a mere hour, an argument that’s tough to make to a bunch of fans with schedules in hand. Having seen Beck a month ago at Outside Lands, the test was in how he would shape his set differently, and how he would morph from side stage alternative to mainstage draw. Through that curiously dispassionate face, he delivered, for the most part, simply by upping the intensity a smidge. He’s cultivated a pleasing arc to his shows: bring it hard and fast to start, throw in some mid tempo sways, bring band centre stage for electro freak out, and then ease into the ending with the slower bits. On this framework he can hang his set list, picking and choosing from his catalogue at will. It’s only when he lets the freak flag fly that you remember that this organized musician is a weirdo at heart (for example: a call and answer in which he begged us to “Say Sergio Valente! Say Jordache turn it up!”) It’s freak Beck we love, but we don’t see enough of him. Increasingly, too, his band, particularly mulitasker Jessica Dobson, threatens to upstage him. And then of course, there was the leaving early thing, and the whole huge group of us blobbing towards the street wondering about some harder math—just how 20,000 or so of us would squeeze through that tiny exit. -- KAITLIN FONTANA

Austin City Limits Festival Day One: Gogol Bordello Gestures Lewdly; Jenny Lewis Emits Cuteness

Photo: Mary Sledd

While the sounds of recently departed summer festivals—and, indeed, recently departed summer—ring in most of our ears, the folks at Austin City Limits Festival shrug off such seasonal limitations. For a lucky few thousand Texans, summer reigns, even in the first week of fall. And in 90-degree heat, it’s pretty easy to forget that summer’s gone.

The first day of ACL fest enjoyed such spoils, as bikinied and be-shorted types traversed Austin’s Zilker Park. Some conscientious souls traveled with bags of cans in tow (not a completely selfless act—there was a free t-shirt on offer for every full bag), while those seeking a cool down could stand in a water-spewing fan, lovingly titled the Sister Mister. Get it?

Of the multitude of acts available on day one, the one most in need of a misting may have been Gogol Bordello. Something suggests, however, that gypsy punks are averse to misting. They’re not averse to perspiration, after all, and there was plenty of that to be had in the intense, mid-day direct sunlight Gogol received for the majority of their set. Front man Eugene Hutz quickly dispatched his rainbow shirt in favor of a bare chest. He and his energetic crew, including his sterner counterpart, black-clad violinist Sergey Ryabtsev, then charged through a set packed with Gogol’s usual finesse: screaming, acrobatics, and scantily clad female band members. Hutz paused between a flurry of songs that included “Sally” and Super Taranta’s “Supertheory of Super Everything” only to give the audience a quick scan, chug wine from the bottle, or offer a series of lovably lewd hand gestures. The latter had an unintended effect--it left the festival’s sign language interpreter momentarily without a job. (Swearing: the true international language.) Gogol Bordello then departed, having made swift and sweaty friends in Texas.

Photo: Brian Birzer

Over—or should I say, under, since we’re talking about a tent—at the WaMu stage, a sizeable crowd gathered to see Jenny Lewis, whose new album Acid Tongue had just debuted three days earlier. Whether those assembled were excited to see Jenny unleash new material or whether they were just attempting a heat escape under the tent is up for debate (probably both), all present got the same effervescent treatment. Lewis made for an irresistibly cute hostess to her own party, offering material from 2006’s Rabbit Fur Coat (“Rise Up With Fists,” “You Are What You Love”) and pronouncing how “psyched” she is about new songs (“Acid Tongue,” “Carpetbaggers”). She even managed a non-silly, acoustic cover of “Love Hurts,” while simultaneously courting a new fan in Bill Murray, in Austin to shoot a film and singing along from the side of the stage. That her band introduced their leading lady as “the one you came here to see” may have only been true for some when they arrived at the shady WaMu tent, but by the time Jenny Lewis bounded off stage, it was true for all. -- KAITLIN FONTANA

McCabe's Guitar Shop Celebrates 50 Years, Throws a Big Coffee-n-Cookie Party

“We’ve done things our own way this whole time. We’ve somehow survived the Guitar Centres and all of that,” says Lincoln Myerson, the concert director at McCabe’s Guitar Shop in Santa Monica. “Here we still are, the little shop that could.” Myerson is, incredibly, only the fifth concert director that McCabe’s has had in over 40 years of shows. A quick visit to their website reveals that in its long history, names like Jeff Buckley, Jackson Browne, Tom Waits and many, many others, have all dropped in to play in the back room of what started as just a guitar store. It’s a past that Myerson feels acutely—he first discovered McCabe’s when he followed friend Nels Cline (now of Wilco) to a gig there in 1985. It was a double bill with the Minute Men, and Myerson was hooked. “We don’t have a bar, just coffee and cookies, and so everybody really listens,” he says. McCabe’s has long been praised for providing intimate (read: drunk free) opportunities to see the world’s best.

And now, McCabe's is celebrating fifty years of making folk rock history with a huge show at Royce Hall at UCLA, on October 2nd. Headlining is Jackson Browne, who was the shop's first official performer, back in 1969. The UCLA show will also have “special guests,” that Myerson refuses to reveal. But they will be friends, and that’s all that matters to McCabe’s. “Our mantra is that when a musician walks in the door for a gig, this is now their home,” says Myerson. “We’ll get them whatever they need.” – KAITLIN FONTANA

All Tomorrow’s Parties: Day Three Wrapup

Photo: Jason Bergman

First, a few more details on the festival’s most buzzed-about show. My Bloody Valentine really seem to be as fierce and put-together live as they ever were: Though their dreamy tunelets sometimes got lost in the mix, the guitar sound Sunday night was manicured, ferocious and otherworldly. Bob Mould and Patti Smith came out to see the show; in fact, Smith and Kevin Shields were milling around Kutsher’s Country Club together beforehand.


Photo: Jason Bergman

Sunday featured several other highlights, including two dissimilar-sounding East Coast acts: EPMD, a hip-hop duo that's been active for more than two decades, turned out a solid, boisterous set. Before launching into “Headbanger,” MC Eric Sermon said, “Here’s some childhood memories for all the underground ‘heads,” which could have described most of their show. Later, Yo La Tengo played to a full house, finishing with a ten-minute version of “Tried So Hard.” During the song, Ira Kaplan turned out some intense guitar squall, as if to give fans a taste of the friendly apocalypse of noise set to come later in the evening.


Photo: Jason Bergman

Some parting shots:

*Sunday appeared to be the most well-attended of ATP’s three days. (It was also the day where the male-to-female ratio shrunk a little, from about four-to-one to about three-to-one.) But though the rooms were packed during My Bloody Valentine and a few other shows, ATP always felt relaxed and comfortable: The grounds were never terribly crowded, getting around was easy and there were no sponsors or VIP areas.

*Props to All Tomorrow’s Parties and My Bloody Valentine for putting together a strong lineup. Can you ATP folks get Pavement to reunite and curate next year? Please? -- CHRISTIAN HOARD

All Tomorrow’s Parties, Day Three: My Bloody Valentine Close Out ATP; Ears Are Still Ringing

Photo: Jason Bergman

At 12:38 this morning, My Bloody Valentine walked onstage at Kutsher’s Country Club to play their first American concert in sixteen years. In brief: It was seriously, incredibly, mind-numbingly loud – pulling off my earplugs during the set meant instant pain. Perched in front of several Marshall stacks and a screen flashing psychedelic images, the band turned out 90 minutes of innovative psych-rock, covering a good chunk of Loveless, their beloved 1991 album. They also played sixteen solid minutes of unadulterated white noise just before closing their set. A brief, informal poll taken post-show suggested that, unsurprisingly, the crowd was more than sated.

Check back here later this afternoon for a more in-depth recap of day three at ATP. -- CHRISTIAN HOARD

All Tomorrow's Parties: Our Crack Video Team is on The Case

Between rowboat excursions and rounds of mini-golf, the Rollingstone.com video team has been shooting both live shows and interviews with performers like Thurston Moore, Mogwai and Les Savy Fav. See the videos here. -- CHRISTIAN HOARD

All Tomorrow’s Parties, Day Two: Lightning Bolt Puts Lightning Bolt in a Corner; Shellac Deny the Existence of God

Photo: Jason Bergman

Saturday at ATP was all about smaller-name bands – smaller names than Sunday’s headliners, at least. When noise-punk duo Lightning Bolt went on around 12:3O in the morning, they set up, as is their custom, on the floor near a corner of the main room. Unless you were among the sweaty throng pressed up to the band, it was damn-near impossible to see what was going on. But hearing Lightning Bolt was no problem: Drummer Brian Chippendale drove the bus with the pedal to the floor and sometimes crashed the shit; he also sang eerie, high-pitched tunes while bassist Brian Gibson matched his speedy, twisting assault. It was complex, entrancing stuff, and it seemed to entertain My Bloody Valentine’s Kevin Shields, who looked on intently. Earlier in the evening, several bands drew devoted, if not terribly big, crowds: Shellac, a Chicago trio featuring producer Steve Albini, turned out spiky minimalist rock and took questions from the audience -- sample query: “Does God suck?” Bassist Bob Gibson’s reply: “There is no God” – and Bristol, England duo Fuck Buttons pumped out trancey electro-noise and tossed in some heavily-distorted vocals that sounded like ululating. -- CHRISTIAN HOARD

All Tomorrow’s Parties, Day Two: Les Savy Fav’s Tim Harrington Gets Crazy With the Cheez Whiz (And Also a Ladder)

Photo: Jason Bergman

One of Saturday’s highlights was Les Savy Fav, Brooklyn indie guys who turned out tuneful noise while running through much of their excellent 2007 album, Let’s Stay Friends. But the Les Savy Fav show was really the Tim Harrington Show, as the frontman lived up to his oddball reputation and proved in stark contrast to the artiness (and stationary frontmen) all over ATP. During his set, Harrington…

…climbed up on a ladder that he set up in the middle of the crowd, then had the crowd move the ladder around. He later summed up the experience like this: “That was like Starlight Express plus Cats divided by Van Halen.”

…said that the song “I’m Not Getting Old” was sponsored by the brand of Merlot he was swigging.

…invited forty or so fans onstage to close out his set.

…generally acted like Iggy Pop, if Iggy Pop was balding, a better comedian and happened to front a very good indie-rock band. -- CHRISTIAN HOARD

All Tomorrow's Parties, Day One: Built to Spill Take Us Back to 1997

Photo: Jason Bergman

“It was the first time I was making music that was gonna have a significant audience,” Built to Spill singer-guitarist Doug Martsch told me yesterday. He was talking about recording Perfect From Now On, the 1997 major-label debut from the beloved Idaho indie band. A chunk of that significant audience came out to see Martsch and company perform the album in its entirety last night, and though Martsch also said that BTS “hadn’t even gotten the album down,” the set didn’t seem to suffer much from lack of preparation: Playing loose and loud, Built to Spill were relatively faithful to the record, which is tuneful in a Neil Young-ian way and long on intricate guitar work, jamming out some of the already lengthy cuts. BTS only got through eleven songs in ninety minutes, but that was fine with the packed house: Martsch proved why he was an indie guitar hero throughout the show, turning out a killer solo on “Stab.” Martsch ended a fifteen-minute version of “Car,” one of two encores, with a spooky guitar loop and then gave a typically polite goodbye: “Thanks for comin’,” he said. “Take care.” -- CHRISTIAN HOARD

All Tomorrow's Parties, Day One: Thurston Moore Dusts Off A Mid-Nineties Fan Favorite

Photo: Jason Bergman

“I have Thurston-itis!” screamed one fan during Thurston Moore’s set Friday night at All Tomorrow’s Parties. The cure, apparently: Really loud guitars, which Moore, the longtime Sonic Youth singer-guitarist, delivered while playing all of his 1995 solo album, Psychic Hearts. (Friday featured several artists playing entire records, with Meat Puppets performing Meat Puppets II and Built to Spill doing Perfect From Now On). Moore’s performance was more than solid, even though he apparently only knew the words to two songs – he was reading lyrics off a music stand for much of the show. Though it felt like a niche set, the venue was fairly crowded, and both My Bloody Valentine mastermind Kevin Shields and Moore’s wife (and Sonic Youth bassist) Kim Gordon were looking on. Moore seemed playful as he ran through the album, which features a load of excellent fuzz jams, dissonant guitar spills, and some of his punkiest songs ever: He bantered with the audience before “Cindy (Rotten Tanx)” about how “this next song is not about Cindy McCain – at least I didn’t think it was,” and self-deprecatingly (and inaccurately) described Psychic Hearts as “written in one day, recorded later that day and mixed that evening.” -- CHRISTIAN HOARD

All Tomorrow's Parties: Kinda Cozy, Kinda Loud

Photo: Jason Bergman

Right now, indie rock fans are just tumbling out of bed at Kutsher’s Country Club in Monticello, New York. They’re here for All Tomorrow’s Parties New York, a three-day event with load of arty (and several very good) guitar bands that culminates in a set by My Bloody Valentine, who curated Sunday’s program. (See full lineup here.) Kutsher’s is an old Borscht Belt resort in the Catskills with a pond, tennis courts and décor that screams Nineteen-Sixties. The setting has prompted a number of references to The Shining, but so far, this is one of the coziest festivals I’ve ever seen: Outside of the venues, artists like Kevin Shields are just milling about, and it’s wonderfully un-crowded – organizers are expecting only about 2,700 fans over the weekend.

On Friday, the Rolling Stone crew talked with Thurston Moore and comedian Patton Oswalt and caught sets by Moore and Built to Spill. Expect posts and video chronicling noise and miscellany to follow. -- CHRISTIAN HOARD

Sophie's Choice-ing It Between Vampire Weekend and MGMT in Los Angeles

It's fair to assume that the Venn diagram of Vampire Weekend fans and MGMT fans is more like a lumpy circle than a figure eight. So it truly was a cruel, cruel twist of fate for those two bands to be playing in the same city at the same time on the same night at two different venues. Forced to choose, I instinctively opted to see VW, because, you know, duh!

The New York band's Wednesday night set at LA's Wiltern Theater reminded me how charmingly rough-hewn Vampire Weekend can still be. There were technical difficulties early in the set, but I actually think that's why the rest of the performance had such pluck: A little bit of anxiety onstage isn't such a bad thing when you're playing songs that might otherwise settle into a too-comfortable hippie groove. (Though most of the LA hippies probably opted for MGMT over VW anyway.) They brought out a string section for "M79," which doesn't get the kind of love "Oxford Comma" and "A-Punk" elicit from the crowd, but is still one of the best songs the band's written. Of course, I'm just as much of a sucker for "Oxford Comma" as anyone else, and when drummer Chris Thomson played that opening beat, I was giddy as a schoolgirl.

Moments later, I got a text from a friend who'd gone to MGMT saying the show was great, but everyone had left after the band played "Electric Feel" and "Time To Pretend." And as Vampire Weekend opened their encore to a packed room with a new song that the audience greeted with as much enthusiasm as any of the ones they already knew, I knew I'd chosen the right gig. -- JENNY ELISCU

Fleet Foxes Harmonize and Hush in Vancouver

Photo: Kisby/Getty

It was a nervous beginning, with Fleet Foxes singer Robin Pecknold, his hair a-tangle, beseeching the Richards on Richards crowd for a chair. “I’m not the most comfortable standing performer,” he confessed to us. “I recommend looking at everyone else but me.” Those assembled, rapt, would have none of it, and spent the next hour (a very short one, at that) watching Pecknold grow gradually more comfortable with being on his feet. It probably helped that every song elicited a barrage of hoots and hollers; that is, when the initial quiet reverence finally gave way. At points during “Sun Giant” (from the EP of the same name, released earlier this year) the only sound other than Pecknold’s glimmering vocals was the faint clinking of beer bottles on the bar, and even that was shushed by a devotee. The same thing happened in “Oliver James,” except this time it was a drunken sing along that was quieted.

A benefit of being the northern tip of the Northwest Passage is shows like this—talent from Seattle, Portland, or points between, playing the first or near-first of many tour stops in Vancouver clubs. (A memorable three hour Built to Spill show from a few years ago comes to mind; they had to be kicked out by the bouncers.) This was no exception, for Vancouverites were treated a few times over: Firstly, to Fleet Foxes newest addition, drummer J. Tillman, playing an opening solo slot, and, for that matter, adding his tenor to the band’s complex and beautiful harmonies; secondly, to the lively banter of a group of friends clearly excited to be out touring a new record; and thirdly to the first ever live rendition of the incredible, epic “Quiet Houses,” from their brand new self-titled debut. The song almost slipped away from them on that first bridge, but Pecknold and his bandmates simply turned to each other, smiled, and righted it. And the gathered minions cheered, as we are wont to do, before sending our guests out to bask in their adoration. Or to, y’know, start a massive, multi-month world tour. Whatever. We do that here. – KAITLIN FONTANA

A Perfectly Good Excuse to Watch TV, Starring Elvis Costello, Feist and Stephen Colbert

Photo: Kristopher Long

Summer festival season may be winding down, but do not despair. Those chilly fall and winter months when you're sitting on your rump hiding from the weather, the good ol' television will offer some great musical moments. On November 23rd, an extra special holiday edition of The Colbert Report called A Colbert Christmas: The Greatest Gift Of All will feature appearances by Feist, Elvis Costello, Willie Nelson, Toby Keith and John Legend. According to the Associated Press, the hour long episode will include a duet between Colbert and Nelson on a take-off of "Little Drummer Boy" called "Little Dealer Boy." Could this pair, all sardonically self-righteous and down-home stoned respectively, dethrone David Bowie and Bing Crosby as the best "pa-rum-pa-pum-pum" duo ever? Only time will tell.

Costello, meanwhile, won't only show up on Comedy Central this fall. The singer-songwriter is hosting a show called Spectacle for the Sundance channel starting in December. The series will include performances from, and Costello's interviews with, Smokey Robinson, Elton John, The Police, Herbie Hancock, Nora Jones, Rufus Wainwright, Chris Christopherson, Tony Bennett and Lou Reed. And he rounded up his new musical cohorts -- Jenny Lewis, Jakob Dylan, She & Him, Jonathan Rice -- for an episode where they all jam out on "Peace, Love & Understanding."

"It’s not like a chat show," says Costello. "I'm gonna try to ask 'em the things they haven't been asked before. Some of these people, they don't know I know their stuff. Like, I was talking to Smokey Robinson and I asked him about a record that he made in 1973 that was a hit in England but not here. It was a really passionate song about the way of the world, but he’s not known for that. He’s known for love songs, you know. And the answer he gave was amazing because I guess nobody ever asked him about that song. I’ve never, ever heard him speak like that before." Save room on your Tivo. -- JENNY ELISCU

Devendra Banhart's Cool Runnings

Photo: Getty

I had the privilege of sitting down with singer-songwriter Devendra Banhart backstage at the Outside Lands festival in San Francisco a few weeks ago. Banhart, who has become one of the most artfully weird and weirdly artful singer-songwriters of his generation, recently finished touring in support of his latest album, Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon, and has started planning his next. Before he gets down to brass tax, however, Banhart is hitting the road with his side-project, Megapuss. The tour, opening for Entrance, will also feature the band Little Joy, which includes Strokes drummer Fabrizio Moretti, his girlfriend Binky Shapiro, and Brazilian musician Rodrigo Amarante -- a newly anointed guitarist in Banhart's group.

What are you doing after Outside Lands?
I’m in the very torturous and painful phase of sorting through the lyrical and melodic muck that is the embryonic stages of trying to make a record. So it’s a lot of like ten minute demos of me going like finger behind left fret, and then you squirrel, squirrel, Muppet, Muppet, squirrel, squirrel, Muppet, Muppet, for ten minutes, and then I just want to kill myself. It’s horrible. I think after every record all traces of discipline, knowledge and skill are completely evaporated and vanish completely. Every time it’s like starting over again.

What kind of direction do you think you might want to go on your next record?
Well the first thing is that now Rodrigo is an official member of the band. And he helps me a lot with the Portuguese songs and with the sambas and stuff. We’re huge fans of the fantasy of Brazil based on collecting vinyl, and he actually lives there.

Did you guys meet in LA?
No, we met at Os Mutantes’ first show in London a couple years ago.

Just randomly, you were there and he was there?
Randomly. We totally fell in love, and then he and Fab and Binky started working on a record and he and I worked on stuff together and then everyone started blending in. And we’ve got this side band called Megapuss, which is me, Fab, Rodrigo and my drummer Greg. It's all just a thing, a pretty incestuous little thing.

Does it feel like it’s all one big ball of yarn or are they separate little balls?
They’re separate little balls but they are all connected, you know?

But a lot of times when artists try to integrate, they don't do it as fully as it seems like you guys all are now. Or even guys like M. Ward, and Connor, and Jim James, they all do stuff together. Why do you think that's becoming more common?
Well, you know, punk was the antithesis of the dream: not just American dream, but the dream. The capitalist dream, which is be good looking, have a lot of money, be successful, be polite. Punk was against all those things, right? I’m going to make myself ugly, I’m going to be rude, I’m going to be poor, and that’s awesome and everyone banded together on that. Then the ‘80s was about too much money and too much coke and everybody just being out for themselves. Everybody so was worried about their own musical celebrity that they didn’t want to give any of the spotlight to someone else that they knew was good also. But I think that since the music industry has been kind of crushed in recent years, you can follow what you want to be doing.

What have you been listening to lately?
I've been listening to a shitload of Kate Bush. And this group called Penguin Cafe Orchestra, who've been around for like 50 years and unfortunately the main dude passed away. It’s just the most beautiful instrumental stuff. And I've been getting really into '80s music for some reason.

What kind of ‘80s music?
A lot of Hall & Oates. That's true. And a lot of New Order and Joy Division, of course, and Cabaret Voltaire. I feel like everything is fair game at this point where style is just like this muck. And it’s a nice thing that the communal aesthetic isn’t based on the actual sonic expression or the sonic output, it’s based on an ideal and kind of actually liking each other, you know what I mean?

I'm working on a story about the Laurel Canyon scene and all these bands that intermingle. Do you consider yourself part of that scene?
I don’t know if it’s that terrestrial. We all do live in LA right now, but it feels like that's just the launching pad. It feels like we’re the Jamaican slalom team in “Cool Runnings:” We take off from that base. That last record I did, we did it all in Topanga and to me it really feels like Topanga. But maybe that’s just me. Is it possible to take Laurel Canyon back, like when it used to be just, like, Jackson Brown, James Taylor and fucking Crosby hanging around, driving down the canyon?

Where do you self-identify as being "from"?
I like to pretend that I live in California when it was Mexico, and I am from Venezuela, but I like to pretend that I’m from Venezuela, you know, maybe 35 years ago. I like to say I’m from Brazil during the Tropicalia movement. I’d like to say I’m from China before, you know, Mao. I’d like to say that I’m from Hawaii before the US and Puerto Rico before the US, and I’d like to say I’m from the US before the US. I’d like to be from the West Coast before it was divided in three parts, just like Europe. Wouldn’t that be a trip? -- JENNY ELISCU

Radiohead Inspire Grown Men To Wear Tights

Photo: Getty

If you managed to miss Radiohead at All Points West, Outside Lands and Lollapalooza, and if you somehow failed to make it to any of their recent U.S. gigs, you can zip over to the U.K. for a different sort of Radiohead fix. According to Pitchfork, Radiohead songs including "Creep," "Fitter Happier," "Idioteque" and "The National Anthem" provide the score to a number the Scottish ballet will be performing on its fall tour. Thus, Thom Yorke and the fellas find their names alongside a couple other fairly reputable composers soundtracking the dance troupe's five-date outing. You know, just a couple dudes names Prokofiev, Tchaikovsky and J.S. Bach. No big deal.

In other Radiohead's-genius-knows-no-bounds news, Pitchfork also tells us that guitarist Jonny Greenwood's orchestral composition "Popcorn Superhet Receiver" will be performed by the London Contemporary Orchestra in October, and a Chicago group called Fulcrum Point will perform the piece at Chicago's Harris Theater on November 12. And if all of that sounds insufferable to you, take heart: The band is said to already be at work on a new album, and perhaps will be back on these shores sooner than you think. -- JENNY ELISCU

Cheech & Chong Believe the Children Are Our Future. Teach Them Well and Let Them Weed, I mean, Lead the Way.

Photo: Bucci/Getty

Step aside, Seth Rogen and James Franco: The original stoner duo, Cheech & Chong, squashed their long-running feud to reunite for the “What’s That Smell?” Tour — their first in 25 years. The tour kicked off last Friday in Ottawa and runs through late December, with one more gig in New York at Radio City Music Hall at the end of January. If I had my druthers, I'd go to one of the shows in California, where all those medical marijuana users are sure to make the venues smell deeee-lightful. Rolling Stone's Kevin O'Donnell got the pair on the phone for a conversation that raises, among other questions: Why do they keep talking about how the kids are our future? What does that even mean?

What are the shows like? What kind of stuff are you guys performing?
Chong: We’ve basically revised our live show from thirty years ago, and it seems to work. We just went from Nixon to Bush, and that's about all that's changed. Personally I like the stand-up bits I get to do in between the acts, because I’ve been working on my stand up for a few years. The first bit, The Low Rider, is also probably the best, funniest piece of comedy ever in the history of mankind.

How do you guys do that live?
Chong:We did it live before, but the only thing is we don’t light up the joint now. We just pretend to light up the joint. But the crowd's totally with us.

They go nuts?
Chong: Oh yeah. Every anal guy in the world always wanted to see Cheech & Chong together. Like, they go into a restaurant and the salt and pepper shakers are sitting apart, and you know how they gotta go and put them together? Well, that’s the same as Cheech & Chong. It just bothered everybody that Cheech and Chong weren’t working together, and now that we are just seems like certain people can die happy now. It was always my ultimate dream that we’d get back together while we’re not drooling too much.

Yeah, you guys have kind of had some differences over the past couple of years. How were you guys able to get beyond that to reunite?
Chong: We drove over to the alley and we fought it out. We said 'Fuck it, man. Let’s get it on.' We’re so old, Cheech couldn’t see me and I couldn’t hear him. No, actually, we put our managers in a room and had them duke it out.

Do you guys bring a lot of weed with you on the road?
Chong: No. None. Never. You know, nine months in jail teaches you something. Plus, it’s like bringing coal to Newcastle. We're in Canada now, and even in the States, if you need weed, you can get weed faster than you can get a pizza almost anywhere.

So do you guys just kind of pick some up when you get into a city – do you still smoke or do you not?
Chong: Well, it depends. Are you a DEA agent?

No I’m not.
Chong: I still smoke and so does Cheech.

I noticed that you keep having to add shows. Did you think there would be such a demand to see you guys live?
Chong: They work it so they sell out the first show, and then they get the second show and it looks good. And we do it for the kids, because the kids are our future.
Cheech: That’s a very important thing.

What’s different about your approach to comedy now versus twenty-five years ago?
Chong: Twenty-five years ago we didn’t have to try to remember what the show was. Our approach now is, 'How does that bit go?'
Cheech: And there’s music in the show now. I mean, we’re actually playing in the show a lot more.
Chong: And we look a lot older than we did before.
Cheech: Yeah, we’re like the pedophile age.

Do you guys have new material that you’re performing?
Cheech: Yeah. We’ve never performed “Born in East L.A.” before, or “Mexican Americans.” We have a sing along at the end.
Chong: Yeah, we dance salsa.
Cheech: It's like Bollywood.

Chong: Yeah, my wife opens the show, and then later we dance and we do Sarah Palin and McCain jokes.

What are your Sarah Palin and McCain jokes?
Cheech: Oh, we can’t tell you.
Chong: Yeah it’s for the show. But it’s basically that she's a dominatrix and that's how McCain met her.

You said that there’s a sing along at the end of your show. To what song?
Chong: Up in Smoke.
Cheech: And then we sing "Kumbaya," you know, for world peace. It's for the kids. The kids are our future.

I’m wondering if you have any thoughts about the re-emergence of stoner culture in the mainstream with movies like "Pineapple Express."
Chong: We feel responsible, so we’re demanding 10% from all those movies. Pineapple Express, I thought, was really funny.
Cheech: For white guys, [Rogen and Franco] aren’t half bad.

How do you think your movies hold up?
Cheech: I look at the residual check I get every year. It’s a huge check, every year for thirty years. So, obviously it holds up. It’s an American classic, no doubt.

Do you know any big name celebrities that are going to your shows at all? Or have asked for tickets?
Cheech: I think when we announced the first shows, Justin Timberlake was on the phone twenty minutes later. We just did the Alma Awards and Zac Efron and Ashley Tisdale are big fans, all crowding around. They were real sweet kids! They were kids you know? They came up and said, 'Can we have your autograph?! Can I have a picture with you?!'
Chong: Well, the kids are our future.
Cheech: Of course the kids are our future.

Ed. note: Our good pal, former Rolling Stone contributor Shirley Halperin, and writer Steve Bloom recently released a hilarious and comprehensive book called "Pot Culture: The A-Z Guide to Stoner Language and Life." The tome features an introduction written by Chong, as well as commentary from celebrity stoners including Rob Thomas, Redman and Jonah Hill. You can buy it here. -- JENNY ELISCU

MTV Video Music Awards: Was Pete Wentz Deliberately Trying To Look Like Ruprecht The Monkey Boy?, and Other Musings

Photo: Winter/Getty

Oh, MTV Video Music Awards, why do you torture us so? Every year, we tune in by the millions, hoping you will reclaim some of your faded glory, like when Madonna rolled around in that wedding dress during "Like A Virgin" or when Nirvana flipped the bird to MTV's request that they play "Smells Like Teen Spirit" by opening their performance with "Rape Me" or when Fiona Apple rambled like the eccentric little genius she is about how "this world is bullshit." Just when we think, "You know what? I bet the VMAs are gonna rule this year," you go and prove us wrong. It hasn't hurt your ratings -- last year's awful show was their highest rated yet -- but it's hurt our hearts.

Of course, a lot has changed since the awards began airing in 1983. We need look no further than the fact that the same dude who now hosts one of Viacom's most successfully trashy reality shows -- Mr. "Will You Stay In This House And Continue To Rock My World" himself, Bret Michaels -- used to be one of the artists most likely to cause an awesome rock & roll ruckus at the VMAs. In 1991, Michaels actually got into a fistfight with C.C. DeVille during the ceremony. Clashing egos! Booze-fueled pummelings! Incoherent ad libbing by presenters! Those are the things I hope for when I tune into the VMAs.

Last night was the first time in several years that I've actually attended and covered the VMAs, so you'll forgive me if I seem a little shell-shocked. Perhaps my standards are impossibly high. Thrilled as I was to see Britney take home all three awards for which she was nominated (c'mon, it was heartwarming), the ceremony as a whole left me cold. All that said, there were a few highlights I'd be loathe not to big-up: Russell Brand was brilliant, even though most of the audience either didn't know who he was or couldn't keep up with his rapid-fire wit. Remarkably, I thought the Jonas Brothers were one of the few performers who both created and invited the kind of musical energy the VMAs need. And Kid Rock's rendition of "Sweet Home Alabama" with Lil' Wayne reminded me what rock stars really look like. (Sorry, Pink.) It was one of those unexpected and joyful collaborations I'll remember long after the image of Pete Wentz's horrible outfit has faded. And that's a long time, friend. -- JENNY ELISCU

My Morning Jacket Plan for Heavenly New Year's Eve Gig in New York

Photo: Winter/Getty

No strangers to momentous New Year's Eve gigs, My Morning Jacket are planning for a December 31st gig at Madison Square Garden even more mind-blowing than the one they staged at San Francisco's Fillmore as 2006 became 2007. Inspired by old school video game "Oregon Trail," the band had dressed as settlers and natives and put on a skit where they killed and ate bassist Two-Tone Tommy. "At the end of the concert, he came back resurrected and killed the rest of us, and we went up a stairway to heaven," says James, who promises a costumed routine at MSG that will "pick up where that one left off, with us starting the show up in heaven." He's mum on what will happen next, but with three hours of music from America's best live band, you can bet it will be a religious experience. "I'm a big believer in the spirits and ghosts in a particular room," James notes. "We'll try to pay respect to the room, but beyond that, it's kind of out of our control." -- JENNY ELISCU

Cruefest Post-Mortem: Josh Todd Hearts Tommy Lee

Photo: Buckner/Getty

We knew we had entered Motley Crue's special kind of rock & roll lair as soon as we saw the signs on their dressing room doors: "Sixx's Confessional," "Vince's Beach," "Tommy's Un-Dressing Room." Lee's chamber rules demanded that you had to take off an item of clothing if you wanted to enter, but he didn't have to beg too hard: During the band's set at the Jersey date on their recent Cruefest tour with Buckcherry and Papa Roach, there were bare boobs as far as the eye could see. But the real chemistry was going on between the bands. Papa Roach's Jacoby Shaddix told us how he creamed his jeans when Mick Mars agreed to play guitar on one of their new songs, and Buckcherry singer Josh Todd has a serious bro-mance going with Lee. "Tommy and I have become friends," says Todd. "And now we do stupid gay things on our phones every day, and leave each other voicemails and stuff. It's always fun to have a new friend." -- JENNY ELISCU

Nobody Puts My Bloody Valentine in the Corner!

Photo: Getty

Hoping to spark a bit of indie-rock-style Dirty Dancing action, the All Tomorrow's Parties festival will bring My Bloody Valentine, Thurston Moore and Built To Spill to one of the last remaining Borscht Belt resorts in New York's Catskill Mountains in mid-September. Held at Kutsher's Country Resort from September 19 - 21st, ATP won't be like your Lollapaloozas or Coachellas: There's no VIP-wristband bullshit to deal with, which means J. Mascis could float up next to you in the swimming pool. As for the music, a few thousand concertgoers will get to watch front-to-back performances of Built To Spill's Perfect From Now On and Thurston Moore's Psychic Hearts, among others.

The main attraction, though, will be the first stateside performance in almost sixteen years from My Bloody Valentine, who co-curated the festival. "They're the ultimate shoegaze band," says Moore, who last saw the band the same time I did -- at a totally bonkers New York gig opening for Dinosaur Jr. in 1992. According to folks who've seen MBV's recent gigs in Europe, the band has been finishing a set full of Loveless tunes with the same kind of thirty-minute drone jam they did back then. "It's the most dynamic thing you've ever seen," says ATP co-organizer Barry Hogan. "It's a sonic force that comes at you." And in case you're feeling more Jerry Orbach than Patrick Swayze, Hogan promises free earplugs during MBV's set. --JENNY ELISCU

Bon Iver's Justin Vernon Is Quite A Good Hang. Who Knew?

Photograph by Chris Tuite

When I first heard Bon Iver's debut album, For Emma, Forever Ago, I thought, 'Now that is one sad dude." It's a lovely collection of stark folk songs, recorded in a cabin in north Wisconsin, where singer-songwriter Justin Vernon was snowed in for four months and had plenty of time to ruminate. But when I met Vernon at Outside Lands, he was nothing like the fey little melancholic creature I'd imagined. Thank god. Vernon is affable, gregarious, humble. I imagine he'd be a great sparring partner for a PBR-fueled debate about which Replacements record is awesomest. Here's what Vernon and I talked about backstage at Outside Lands, right after Broken Social Scene finished and right before I found yet another reason to love Bon Iver:

Did you just roll into town today?
Yesterday, but late. We drove three days. I rode in on a golf cart this afternoon and I was blown away. Like, "Where am I? Why am I here?" It's truly something special."

So are you in the middle of touring right now? What are you doing?
Yeah, yes we are. We did five weeks, four weeks or something in the States, we had four days off, then we had to drive three days out here, but those four days were all rehearsal too, with a new member. Just two weeks out here, really lax, couple driving days, this festival and then we go to Europe.

Wasn't England where you got your first bite?
Actually, it was at the end of our first American tour, here in San Francisco. We opened up for Black Mountain at the Independent, and when we played there it was like, 'Oh my God. This is happening.' You know? And then the next few shows were pretty crazy, so when we went over there and started playing in Britain. It was just all the timing. Now we're back in the States, everything's sold all the shit, we played First Avenue in Minneapolis which is like, the all-time venue: sold out, 1,500 people. It's, like, amazing. What am I supposed to do?

(Laughs) You're supposed to keep doing it.
I guess.

San Francisco must hold a special place in your heart given what you've said. Does this festival feel distinctly San Francisco to you?
Yeah. I came here to Golden Gate Park in '99 with my girlfriend and my mom and I have loved San Francisco ever since. It's a weird thing because I'm a Wisconsin thoroughbred. I'll go to New York, I'll go to Paris, and I love it and they're beautiful, but Wisconsin's my thing. Like, that is my thing. But this city fucks me up. I love it a lot. Like very, very much. And so yes, when I come here I feel very good.

What city in Wisconsin are you from?
Eau Claire. It's in the northwest, actually closer to Minneapolis and St. Paul, Minnesota than anywhere else. When I grew up I would go to First Avenue to see fuckin' Mister Bungle play, you know, whatever.

Or what else? What else did you – what other shows did you see there?
What other shows did I see? I actually saw the Indigo Girls at First Ave.

You saw Mister Bungle AND the Indigo Girls?
Yeah.

That explains a lot.
Yeah. Both of them very important bands to me. I don't discriminate. Those two bands changed my life for sure.

You must have been a very unique high schooler…
I guess. I mean, I was the football captain of my high school too, and the fact that I was into music was kind of weird. I just tried to do everything.

Are there any artists that we may not have heard of yet that you’re excited about, coming up on the scene?
There's this band called the Bowerbirds. Their record is amazing. But I will tell you, you need to see this band and you will need to be able to sit down and you need to be able to focus. More than any band in the last four or five years, they just completely redirected my path in life. That's how fucking good they are.

More like Mister Bungle or more like Indigo Girls?
Neither but closer to Indigo Girls.

Who's on your shirt?
EmmyLou Harris

For a second I thought it was Natalie Merchant, and I was gonna say…
That would be weird. -- JENNY ELISCU