LIVE! Crystal Stilts

You put a bowl of soup in the microwave and press start. It comes out cold. You put it back in for twice as long; you take the bowl out and it’s still cold! No matter how many times you microwave it, the motherfucker just won’t HEAT. Frustrated, you throw the bowl of soup in for 10 minutes at maximum power and wait. The end result: it’s now scalding hot, and you still can’t eat it. This describes the Crystal Stilts show at the Biltmore Cabaret in Vancouver this past Thursday.

But first I want to talk about the second opening band. I wish I could remember their name (it was either Case Studies or Student Teacher), because God were they awful. Not just bad musically, but they managed to implode with a Spinal Tap-like grandeur.

Things started out well enough. Everyone was in sync with the female band member who was bashing the hell out the tambourine, totally absorbed in the moment. This lasted for about two songs. Then at some point the drummer just said “fuck it” and walked off stage and spent the rest of the night chatting up two chicks at the bar.

Now down to three band members.

Tambourine Girl has to sub in for the drummer, and she is clearly pissed about it. Her limited drumming skills results in the band playing the same instrumental on a loop for 10 minutes. Finally Tambourine Girl says “fuck it” and walks off stage without a word.

Now down to two band members.

The two bewildered guitars players face each other playing the same instrumental over and over again. They stop playing whenever the first guitar player has to pick up a piece of paper to read the lyrics. Or the set list. Or the cords. I not sure what was on that paper, but this Stop and Go lasted (I kid you not) for at least 20 minutes. Sensing a growing hostility from the audience, the exasperated guitarist takes off his guitar, mumbles “the Crystal Stilts are on next”, unscrews a mikey and sulks off stage. End of the opening acts.

Crystal Stilts take the stage. Since the two open acts were trying hard emulate the sound of the Crystal Stilts (lo-fi atmospheric 60s surfer proto-punk?) there was only a few degrees of separation between the poor opening acts and the headliners, and as a result the Crystal Stilts became tainted. Even with the lead singer doing his best Lizard King impersonation, the Stilts seemed unremarkable. And after waiting four hours on cold soup, the Crystal Stilts were boiling hot and you were past caring. -L.M Harrison

Don't Think Twice, It's Alright

At the time of writing, today marks the two month anniversary of the passing of artist Suze Rotolo (the girl clutching Bob Dylan on the cover of The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan and in the outtake photo above) the girlfriend and muse to Dylan in the early sixties. Let’s use this moment as an opportunity to put the spotlight on one of the Greatest Albums Ever Made, which was added the US Library of Congress’ National Recording Registry (recordings that are “culturally, historically, or aesthetically important, and/or inform or reflect life in the United States”) in 2002.

The thing about Dylan is that there are so many facets, phases and layers to his work that countless trees have died with people writing books and articles trying to figure out this man’s psyche. Allen Ginsberg stated that when he heard the sixth track “A Hard Rains a-Gonna Fall” he broke down and wept –because with that song, a new generation was taking up and surpassing the mantle established by Ginsberg and his beatnik peers a decade earlier.

Nothing significant can be said or written about this album that hasn’t already been done before, so I’ll just state that in this “iPod shuffle” generation it’s easy to ignore albums. However it’s worth the investment to listen to the album its entirely. Instead of listening to The Tallest Man on Earth, do yourself a favour and listen to the person Kristian Matsson is trying so hard to impersonate. -L.M Harrison

Bob Dylan vs. TIME Magazine (1965):

REWIND: The Stooges FUNHOUSE (1970)

Nothing can touch its reckless abandon of convention and its orchestrated havoc.*

If pure, wild anarchic chaos was unleashed from the bowels of hell, this is what it would sound like. From the animalistic grunts on the opener Down on the Street to the wailing of TV Eye to swirling oblivion of LA Blues it’s obvious that all conventional sensitivities were thrown out the window when the Detroit-based band The Stooges recorded their 1970 release Funhouse. The Stooges were never ones to colour within the lines and with Funhouse The Stooges decided to push it just a little bit further. Produced by Dan Gallucci of The Kingsmen (Gallucci played the organ riff on the radio hit ‘Louie Louie’) Gallucci wisely hung back and recorded the album live in the studio with few overdubs or fancy studio enhancements. As this minimalist creation comes at you through the speakers you realize just how raw the record sounds. Ron Asheton’s simple but reckless guitar playing, Scott Asheton’s relentless drumming and the steady playing of bassist Dave Alexander somehow transforms this traditional three-piece band into a bull in a china shop. And then there’s James Osterberg (aka Iggy Pop) whose bolstered confidence and frenzied vocals marks a new level of mayhem. Their previous debut album, simply titled The Stooges, sold few copies, and after failing to achieve any notable success with their first album it appears the band played as though they had nothing to lose --and in reality they didn’t. That desperation can be heard throughout the album and in turn The Stooges began mapping uncharted waters in music. Many music historians now point to The Stooges’ career and this recording in particular as a sentimental development in what would later become punk music. Although praised and celebrated by critics and music fans in recent years, Funhouse, like their previous album, sold few copies when it was originally released. The Stooges would break up less than two years later after releasing the iconic David Bowie-produced Raw Power album.

*Authors Note: I dare you to listen to the opening track “Down on the Street” and not feel the urge to strut. I dare you.

Young Caruso: The Milan Recordings 1902-1903

Guess what? Recording technology 99 years ago was primitive. Despite the obvious limitations in sound fidelity, in some ways the unique “feel’ of older recordings can trump today’s slickly-polished Pro Tool records.

Such is the case with The Young Caruso, Songs and Arias: Milan Recordings 1902-1903 from Angel Records, an old vinyl I stumbled upon the other day.

The record is a document of the early recordings of Italian tenor Enrico Caruso. Born in 1873, Caruso was the eighteenth (yes, 18th) child of a poor mechanic. Despite his poor beginnings, Caruso grew to become an international star back in his day. Caruso’s 1907 recording of “Vesti la Giubba” was the first gramophone/phonograph to sell more than 1 million copies. Freddie Mercury of Queen was big fan of Caruso’s operatic singing style.

I was in a shitty/depressed mood when I put the record on, and listening to this distant sounding, century-old recording by a long dead tenor lightened my mood in a perverse, existentialist kind of a way.

Should you run out and get this record? Probably not. However its good background music and an interesting listen, even if just for the historical novelty of it.

UPRISING: Clark Graham

Clark Graham, the singer/songwriter and current resident of Los Angles, is performing songs off his upcoming LP around West Hollywood, along with fellow songwriter and transient Matt Moore (whom Graham met while hitchhiking from Phoenix to Jefferson City). You can hear some of Graham latest songs here: http://www.myspace.com/259133053/music/songs/Concrete-Rhythm-80388199

Live! GOBBLE GOBBLE

Glowing polymers of high molecular mass.
Acrylic exterior redesigns.
Pinball machines.
Electronic tribal spontaneity.
Sweat.

Do you like what is described above? Then you like GOBBLE GOBBLE.

How to describe GOBBLE GOBBLE? Think of the band as being a cross between the The Living Theatre and a mini rave freak-out. The bearded band leader, dressed in a polka-dot smock with angel wings, tortures his soundboard that makes high pitched quelling sounds against the backdrop of heavy electronic beats.
They played The Cobalt, a former punk music venue that has recently been renovated, power-washed and sanitized for the hipster masses. The Cobalt is located in Vancouver’s Chinatown, near a Chinese import clothing store on Main and 15th with a giant sign that reads 10 SHIRTS FOR $5. [Sidenote: After driving past this seductive sign for several weeks, I finally succumbed to the temptation and went in to buy 10 shirts. Turns out it was 10 baby shirts for $5. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! I PAID THREE DOLLARS IN PARKING!DAMNITALLTOHELL]

Back to GOBBLE GOBBLE. While the bandleader stayed onstage, two shirtless band members dressed in tutus danced amongst the small but enthusiastic crowd like crazed shamen. An array of musical and non-musical instruments made an appearance: frying pans, snow shovels, disco balls and tambourines were all used in GOBBLE GOBBLE’s aural assault. At some point I recall a string of Christmas lights being thrown into the crowd.

Verdict: Definitely worth the $10 price of admission. The show itself was relatively short: A little over 30 minutes. Any longer and the band members would’ve collapsed from heat exhaustion.

Photo by Steve Louie